#that heart is actually just an engraving yeah okay

[whytheylosttheirminds]

happy birthday, baby (part one: birthday girl)

(boyfriend!rafe x girlfriend!reader two-shot)

summary it's your first birthday as rafe's girlfriend, and he's desperate to show you just how special you are to him...

content fluff! smut! 18+ minors do not interact!

-----------------ꪆৎ‎---------------------

“It’s too much, Rafe!”

The pile of presents in front of you is outrageous. Bows and bags and big, meticulously wrapped packages.

“Never too much for my girl,” he stands back, beaming as he watches you take in the display with your mouth agape.

“I don’t even know which one to open first,” you muse.

“Any of ‘em. Just not,” he steps forward and plucks one bag from the pile, “this one. This one’s for last.”

You eye him suspiciously as he sets the bag on the kitchen counter, out of reach. 

“What surprises do you have planned, Cameron?”

“If I told you,” he smiles, stepping behind you and wrapping his arms around your torso, “then they wouldn’t be surprises. Now pick a present or we’re gonna be here all day.”

“Excuse me, I will not be rushed on my birthday,” you say defiantly.

“Not rushing you,” he drops a kiss on your shoulder, “just got a lot of shit planned for ya, I don’t want to waste any time,” he clarifies.

“There’s more?” You turn in his grasp, eyes wide.

He’d already woken you up with breakfast in bed, and an adorably off-key, groggy voiced rendition of ‘Happy Birthday.’ His bedroom was full of flowers and balloons, including two big pink ones displaying your new age. After you ate the fluffiest pancakes you’d ever had in your life, he slipped a heavy diamond necklace around your neck, kissing your shoulders as he clasped it. Giving him a million thank you kisses, you told him you loved your present, and he chuckled, leading you to the kitchen to the mountain of additional presents you’re now ogling.

“So much more. I’ve got a whole day planned for you, so let’s get to it,” he said with a quick tap on your ass, making you giggle.

“Okay, okay! I want…that one,” you point to the largest package in the back of the pile, “‘cause it’s big.”

“Huh, where have I heard that before?” He pretends to think, a smug smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

You roll your eyes, shoving him back by his shoulder and scoffing, “you’re on another one today, I swear.”

“Just excited to celebrate you,” he grins, placing a quick kiss on your cheek before pulling the biggest present out of the pile.

You sit in one of his dining chairs, opening present after present, each one delighting you more than the last. Flashy and expensive; a new bag, two pairs of shoes that have been on your wishlist forever, jewelry until you’re dripping in diamonds and precious gems. Sweet and sentimental; a printed album of all your instagram posts since the two of you got together almost a year ago, a gold ring engraved with a handwritten message, a crystal picture frame with a shot of the two of you on his boat at sunset. 

You wonder if it’s possible for your heart to actually burst from affection.

When only one present remains, you eye the counter quizzically, waiting for him to bring you the little bag he had set aside. Rafe just makes himself busy picking up the discarded ribbons and wrapping paper, a little blush on his face as he focuses on the chore.

“Rafe…” you try to get his attention.

“Yeah?” He leans down to pick up a bow that had fallen under the table, when he stands, you step in front of him, grabbing the trash from his hands and setting it to the side. 

“I want my last present please,” you smile, hands cupped in front of you expectantly.

He scratches the top of his buzzed head, taking a deep breath, “why don’t we wait? I booked you a spa appointment so you should probably get ready…”

“Rafe,” you cross your arms over your chest, “why are you being all squirmy?”

“I don’t know, I just don’t know if you’ll like it, I don’t want you to think…anything.”

You had no idea what he meant by ‘think anything,’ but this whole you not liking something he took the time to pick out for you business was just nonsense. 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you stood up on your tiptoes to place a soft, steady kiss on his lips. 

“Well I do know. I’m gonna love it, because you got it for me, and I love you,” you ease his worry.

You had told each other you loved each other for the first time a little over a month ago, but it still feels like fireworks everytime one of you says it. Nothing in life is sweeter than the sound of his quick, reassuring “love ya” before hanging up the phone, or his whispered, emotional “I love you so much,” when he’s buried inside you late at night.

“I love you too,” he grins.

“Good,” you place one more kiss on his lips, “then I would like my last present now, please.”

“Yes ma’am,” he smirks, walking you toward the kitchen, kissing you all the way as he backs you up step by step.

By the time you reach the kitchen island, you’ve almost forgotten about the striped gift bag waiting for you there, distracted by his lips and the cute little smooches they’re making against your mouth with each step.

He reaches back for the bag without pulling away, holding it behind his back as he ducks down for one last peck before swinging it forward and presenting it to you.

“We can take it back if you don’t li-��� you silence him with a finger to his lips.

“Shhh, it’s my last present of the day, let me enjoy this,” you request.

He nods solemnly, waiting until you were looking away, too distracted by the tissue paper in the bag to see the smirk growing on his lips as he thought about his actual last present for you. A rush of nerves shoot through him as he pictures the little black velvet pouch sitting in his nightstand drawer. 

Obeying your request, he bites his tongue as you pull out the rest of the tissue paper. When you finally see what’s sitting in the bag, a slow, delighted smile spreads across your face. You don’t pull the gift out, just bite your lip as you blink up at him through your lashes. His cheeks are adorably pink. 

He’s never bought you lingerie before. He’s seen you in plenty of it, though. Hell, he cleared a whole drawer for you like a month after you started dating, telling you to take as much space as you needed as long as he was the only one who got to see you in it. But the thought of him actually going into the store and asking the sales lady for exactly what he wanted to see you in, surely pulling out his black card and telling her the price tag was not an issue, made your belly tighten with lust.

“Ah I see,” you smirk, “it’s a present for me and for you.”

He nods with a lick of his lips, “you gonna try it on for me?”

You lead him to the chair you were sitting in to open presents, guiding him to sit and placing one more kiss on his cheek before excitedly padding to the bedroom to get changed. He watches you go with his tongue pressed into his cheek, readying himself, wondering how the fuck someone like him got lucky enough to be with someone like you.

Rafe had picked out the cutest little set for you. Matching floral bra and panties, sheer and constructed with hardly any fabric at all, a matching garter belt and thigh high sheer stockings. You gasp when you see the price tag, understanding now why the fabric feels so nice and the stitching is so intricate. 

You take your time pulling it on, both to be gentle with the expensive pieces and to tease the man waiting for you in the other room. The thought of him squirming in that chair wondering what the hell was taking so long makes you giggle.

“The fuck are you laughing about in there?” He calls out impatiently from the other room. “You’re killin’ me!” 

You laugh hard at that, head falling back in delight as you clip the last strap of the garter into place. You add a pair of kitten heels to tie it all together and run your fingers through your hair, one quick look in the mirror to appreciate yourself before stepping slowly from the room.

“Sorry to make you wait, baby,” you tilt your head apologetically and step towards him tauntingly. 

Rafe just smiles and looks to the ceiling, shaking his head slowly in disbelief.

“What?” You ask as you approach, hands finding his and bringing them to rest on either side of your waist.

His thumbs trace circles into your skin, “just don’t know how I got so fuckin’ lucky. Must’ve done something right in a past life.”

Your skin goes hot at his words, and the way his eyes are skimming over your body like you’re the eighth wonder of the world.

“Nah, I think you just did a lot of things right in this life,” you pull his arms so he’ll rise to his feet.

Rafe lifts his arm with his hand still holding yours, spinning you with his pointer finger like a ballerina, memorizing every inch of you as you twirl for him.

“No man could possibly be good enough to deserve you, baby,” he responds, his large, rough hands running over your bare hips, guiding you to hop up and wrap your legs around his waist. “I’m just the luckiest guy in the world.”

You kiss him, too overwhelmed by the way he’s looking at you and holding you up to say anything in response. No one has ever made you feel so special, so wanted. He’d kneel down and kiss your feet if you asked him to. But that’s not what you want right now.

“Need you, Rafe,” you mumble against his lips, legs squeezing him tighter, hands splayed on the back of his head like you’re trying to permanently seal his mouth to yours, “please.”

“You don’t gotta beg, angel,” he coos, “I’ll give you anything you want.”

“Cause it’s my birthday?” You tease.

“No. I’ll give you anything you want every day of your fucking life,” he swears, “you deserve the world.”

But you don’t want the world, you just want him.

“Fuck, Rafe,” you sigh, lowering your core over his growing hardness, playfulness gone and replaced by frenzied need.

In response, he shifts to hold you up with one arm, using the other to sweep aggressively at the counter and knock all its contents to the floor chaotically. You love him wild like this, complete disregard for the dishes and various items he’s just sent flying across the kitchen, too drunk on you to even attempt making it to the bedroom. 

He drops you onto the counter, not too hard to hurt, but just hard enough to make your tits bounce and a little “hmph!” to rise from your chest. You’re pulling him to you in seconds, nails clawing at his shoulders and the back of his head as his lips devour yours. He slots his hips between your knees, forcing your legs to fall open for him.

“Gonna make you feel so good, birthday girl,” he promises, chest hovering over you powerfully, lowering you slowly until you’re laying down on the counter, your legs dangling off the edge. 

He kisses down the column of your throat, nipping and nibbling all the way as he hooks his fingers to slip under the straps of the garter belt, pulling until the clasps break away from the top of your stockings with a snap!

You gasp, “you’re gonna break my present!”

“I’ll buy you a new one,” he shakes his head, bent in half to lower his mouth down your body, sucking purple splotches into the sensitive skin of your stomach, claiming you with every mark.

When he’s satisfied with his artwork, he lifts himself up, piercing blue eyes consuming you with an adoration you’ve never experienced before. You writhe a little under his hungry gaze, and his eyes wander to the panties he gifted you, corners of his mouth perking in a grin. His hand snakes up your thigh and he sweeps his thumb over your covered slit without warning, making you gasp and arch off the cold counter.

“Looks like you already made a mess of your present anyway,” his eyes twinkle with mischief as he spreads your wetness through the fabric.

“Can’t help it,” you whine under the pressure, “you always make me so fucking wet.”

He’s desperate to taste you, lowering to his knees and dragging your panties down with him. Gripping your hips, he pulls you to the edge of the counter, closer to his mouth. He nips at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, the sting outweighed by the pleasure. 

You arch toward him, desperate to feel his mouth on you, but his fingers find you first. He spreads you, groaning a strained ‘fuckkkk’ at the sight. He gathers your slick onto his fingers so slowly, so deliberately, it’s driving you insane. 

Finally, finally, he lowers his mouth and licks, ever so gently, up your center. You’re on fire, the cold marble counter below you doing little to cool your spiked body temperature. 

Between deliberate licks he whispers praises, his tongue and voice taking turns worshiping you.

“Do you know I belong to you?” He confesses, his other hand gripping the edge of the counter so hard it almost cracks. “Do you understand that you fucking own me?”

“You talk so pretty, baby,” you moan, losing your grasp on language as he sends lightning bolts of pleasure shooting through your body, “love that mouth.”

“It’s yours,” he promises, finally lapping at your clit with a pointed tongue, “it’s all yours, everything I’ve got.”

“Just want you!” you cry out when he pulls the sensitive bud into his mouth and sucks hard.

“You have me, ‘m not going anywhere,” he says after releasing your clit with a pop. His middle finger, already soaked from you, dips into your entrance slowly. “You’re my everything, forever.”

Rafe continues to wrap you in soliloquies of praise as his other hand kneads the skin of your stomach reverently, like a potter molding his clay.

It’s these promises that make your head spin, drowning in the tapestry he weaves with his words until all you can think, all you know, is that you love him. When a second finger enters you and his mouth finds the spot he knows so well, everything in the world fades. The only thing that means anything is this man and the way he makes you feel.

His fingers twist and twirl inside you while his mouth works your clit. You’re beside yourself, feeling your release creep closer and closer with each flick of his tongue. You grab the edge of the counter top for purchase, but it’s not enough. Your hands paw at his head, wishing there was something more to ground you. 

You love his buzzcut, you had an appointment in your shared calendar each month for him to dutifully sit on a stool in the bathroom while you redid it with the electric clippers, but in this moment you wish for the first time that he’d grow it out. You tuck the thought away for later.

He loves the way you’re clawing at his scalp, and clenching around his fingers, knowing you’re close like he knows everything about you. He grabs one of your hands, offering his to you so you can squeeze as hard as you need to, loving the pain as he pushes you to the edge.

You cry out his name when you come, nearly breaking the bones in his fingers. He doesn’t stop until the very last wave of ecstasy rolls through you, his body hovering over yours as he soothes you through the cool down.

“You have no idea what you mean to me,” he whispers into your collarbone, following the vulnerable words with a shaky kiss.

“I think I have some idea,” your palm glides over his scalp, where you were just leaving scratches, inspecting to make sure you hadn’t done too much damage. “Because of how much you mean to me.”

He just shakes his head, his buzzed hair tickling your chin.

You both rise from the counter, Rafe straightening your lingerie set and taking in his gift to you one more time. He stands between your legs, fists on the counter as he leans forward on flexed arms.

“How am I supposed to top this?” You wonder aloud, hands smoothing over his shoulders and your head tilting in that adorable way he’s obsessed with.

“What do you mean?” He puzzles.

“When your birthday comes around,” you explain, “you’ve set the bar so high.”

Rafe smiles, but it doesn’t meet his eyes. His gaze wanders from you as he pulls back slightly.

“You don’t have to do anything,” he shakes his head.

“Are you joking? And miss the chance to celebrate you?” 

“We- I don’t really do birthdays,” he says, and before you can pry any further he adds, “plus yours isn’t even close to over yet.”

Rafe lifts you effortlessly from the counter, making you yelp in surprise. You rest your head on his shoulder as he carries you to the bedroom, thinking obsessively about the way he accidentally said ‘we.’

Your heart breaks picturing younger Rafe, no birthday candles to blow out on his big day, no crowd of friends and family singing to him, no one to make him understand how special and worth celebrating he is. 

No, that just wouldn’t do. You start planning the second he falls asleep that night, determined to make his next birthday the best he’s ever had.

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part 2: birthday boy coming soon!

for more boyfriend!rafe see my masterlist ♡

remember! writers live off replies and reblogs, don’t forget to feed your faves 😘

[solomams]

23. Thirteen

pov: you're on the other end of her scythe

thirteen nation i did my best </3 prompt list by @obeymetournaments !!

[sowhat-whynot]

Boyfriend tag!

request: “maybe do our own version of doing his makeup like mandy did w martin?”

a/n: this request had a few ideas in one btw also this is my first lil story on here so go easy on me, queens.

bf!hamzah x fem reader

──★ ˙ ̟🐇 ꩜ .ᐟ

Being a youtuber was fun cuz you got to come up with your own ideas and no one could stop you so naturally, you wanted to piss Hamzah off a bit. You had asked him to come film a ‘boyfriend tag’ video with you but there was something he didn’t know…that you’d also be doing his makeup while answering questions.

filming…

“Hi loves! Welcome back to my channel today I have someone special with me, my boyfriend” you say excitedly.

“Hi everyone! I’m so pumped to be on here” Hamzah says, pumping his fist a little.

“Why dont you tell em what we’re doing today” you say with a smirk.

“She’s gonna give me that hawk tuah on cam!!” Hamzah giggles.

“Hamzah what the hell is wrong with you” you look at him in disgust.

“I’m sorry…so, we’re doing a boyfriend tag and this is basically for y/n’s viewers to kinda get to know me since I might pop into frame from time to time and then you guys are gonna comment ‘who is that fine sexy man in the background’ and you’ll know it’s me!” Hamzah explains.

“You explained that perfectly but I have a surprise for you” Hamzah look a bit confused.

“I’m gonna make you look beautiful and do your makeup, like I’ve always wanted to!!!”

“Are you serious” He stares at the camera.

“Yes, because one day Hamzah was watching me do my makeup and asked ‘how do ya know how to do that’ and today’s your lucky day, babe. You’re gonna find out” you explain.

“You know what whatever” Hamzah gave in.

-

You face towards your boyfriend to apply foundation with a brush while asking a few questions you came up with.

“Hamzah tell the viewers you name and birthday”

“Is this a joke?” He laughed, not believing that this was the whole point of the video.

“Just answer bruh. The viewers wanna know!” You say as you blend the foundation into his skin.

“Hi i’m Hamzah and i was born on March 5th, 2002”

“Ok, next question is ‘describe your high school self in 5 words’”

“Hot, cool, goofy, got bitches” He proudly answered.

“You know what..hell yeah! Except for the last one i know you got no girls and they probably all ran away from you boi”

“Next question, y/n”

You continued on with the question and you were the happiest girl alive giving your boyfriend the makeover of his life. You smiled while applying some of your pretty pink blush on his cheeks. You two got so distracted from goofing around it made it hard to take the youtube video seriously.

“No way it takes this long to apply all of this. You girls do this everyday??” He asked, appreciating your hard work.

“Yeah but honestly it’s not about how long it takes, it’s about how gorgeous you’re gonna look at the end. Like a pretty princess”

“Oh my god” Hamzah turns his head away from you.

“Look at me Hamzah i still have more questions” your hand reaches to his chin making him look at you.

“Next question is ‘do you remember our first date’” you ask while applying press powder on his face.

“Of course I do! It was a fun picnic date and I gave you a kitty plushy as a gift and we ate yummy food and I couldn’t take my eyes off you, i still can’t, you’re just so beautiful. Even the dress you wore. It’s forever engraved in my mind” His words are so genuine it makes your heart melt.

“Aww babe that’s actually so sweet i love you” you practically look at him with heart eyes.

“Okay is the makeup almost done i wanna see”

“You ruined the moment..yeah i just gonna curl your lashes and put on a lippie”

“I don’t know what you just said but please do it fast” he impatiently said.

“Hamzah don’t move your eye im gonna curl it”

“What da hell is that tool!” He yelled.

“Bro bear with me and do as i say” you gently clamped his lashes and apply mascara on him.

You added some finishing touches: eye glitter, eyeliner, and a glossy lip. You turn to the camera and giggle a bit.

“Is it bad? Can i see y/n! Stop laughing” Hamzah said.

“Guys i think i did a beautiful job. Look at it!!! The eyes are so cute” You grabbed the camera and did a close up shot.

You prop the camera back on the tripod and grabbed a mirror to reveal the final look to him.

“Okkk now look” You handed the mirror to Hamzah.

“Holy shit y/n…i look different” he gasps as he touches the eye makeup.

“You’re giving Hamzah Charles” you laughed.

“Honestly guys she did a good job and i think i’m into boys now” he said to the camera.

“Okay i’m ending this video” you quickly say.

You did your usual outro and Hamzah just smiled while you did so. You turned your camera off and giggled at Hamzah. He gave a confused laugh, not really sure what was so funny.

“Now we’re gonna do a photo shoot” you jump in excitement.

“Are you serious!”

──★ ˙ ̟🐇 ꩜ .ᐟ

Hope yall enjoyed hehehiehehe & keep requesting ideas 💕

[itsonlybaby]

𐙚ᣟ݂﹒𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 - 𝐛. 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐞﹒

◜♡﹒﹒𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭﹒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭﹒𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

putting out so many bellamy fics, here's the playlist I listen to while writing fics

Bellamy Blake - Arkadia

꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ ⸝⸝ You had a dream about your best friend Bellamy, and you try to suppress the feelings by avoiding him. Bellamy doesn't let this slide. ﹒ 　 ⊹ 　⤷ cw: smut, piv, praise, nsfw, gentle Bellamy

His hand glided along my thigh, sending shivers down my spine. My breathing became erratic the closer and closer he got to my cunt, the place I craved his touch the most. Bellamy leaned down, giving sweet kisses to my stomach area before I finally felt his fingers on my pussy, sliding up and down coating his fingers with my slick.

I just about came when he pushed two fingers inside me, thrusting them up and hitting my sweet spot.

"Hey!" Octavia, my roommate, yelled.

I shot up instantly looking around taking in my surroundings, a wave of disappointment washing over me, suddenly missing the dream I had just awoken from. Why had I been dreaming of Bellamy of all people? He was my best friend!

My disappointment was replaced by my guilt.

"You've been asleep an hour past breakfast, wake up." She spoke, putting on her black boots and lacing them.

An hour? What happened to my alarm clock?

Octavia noticed my confused look towards my clock, "You didn't set it last night,"

Shit.

I climbed out of bed and almost tripped on my blanket. I walked to my dresser and pulled out a fairly cute outfit. Shorts, a tank top, and Bellamy's guard jacket I still needed to return. But I knew he'd have to steal it back to get it.

"Where are you off to today?" I asked Octavia, putting on my socks and then my brown boots. I saw her stand and grab her sword, placing it in the holster on her back.

"Gonna spend the day with Lincoln, makes things less boring around here." She opened the door to our room and left.

Leaving me to only my thoughts memories of the dream came flooding back to me. It was like I could actually feel his touch on my thigh. His big, calloused hands, his soft kisses to my stomach, touching me as if I were a porcelain doll.

Shaking my head I snapped out of my thoughts, I had things to do today.

Walking to my little clay shop beside the Armory I sat down on my stool. Reaching under the desk I brought out a lump of clay I left to dry.

I had a clay shop, though it wasn't really a shop. Bring me the dirt and I'll make you whatever you want. It made the days less boring and brought smiles to everyone's faces, people would commission things for their partners, moms, siblings, and friends. Knowing my little sculptures could bring such joy to the people of Arkadia was a nice feeling.

Slapping the lump down on the desk I rolled up the sleeves of Bellamy's jacket and began kneading it, this is where most of my strength came from. Once I was sure it was soft enough to work with I sat back down, dunked my hands in the water, and began sculpting. Taking mini lumps from the big piece of clay.

I had finished two before my thoughts caught up with me.

Kneading the clay again, I thought about Bellamy's hands, mouth, hair, and body. How good he'd feel against me.

"Clays not gonna knead itself," Bellamy spoke in an amusing tone.

I hadn't even noticed I stopped kneading.

The sight of Bellamy made my heart drop, without his usual jacket you could see his muscular arms, a sight I needed engraved in my brain.

Looking at his face my eyes were wide, I had hoped he didn't notice my unusual staring. I needed to get my head out of the gutter.

"Yeah, just got distracted," I replied, an awkward laugh coming after.

Bellamy raised an eyebrow, bringing his hands to his hips. He definitely noticed.

"You okay, princess?"

That name again. I practically melted every time he called me it, though I'm sure he meant it in a friendly manner it just sounded so good coming from him.

I let out a series of stutters before taking a breath, "Yes," It came out as more of a question than an answer, and I knew he didn't believe me.

Then finally, my saving grace came.

"Oh, look, customer," I say, the look on Bellamy's face still evident.

A customer from two weeks ago approached my shop, Bellamy looked between us and took his leave.

A part of me felt bad knowing I had pushed him away slightly. But id never get any work done if he was standing there looking so damn good-

"Hi, I'm here for the fox statue. For my boyfriend." She greeted me with a bright smile, clearly full of excitement to see the final result.

I returned her smile and nodded, "I remember! Let me get it,"

A few hours had passed since then and the sun was setting, many happy customers, and I somehow seemed to get a lot of work done.

Closing down shop I washed my hands in the bucket of water and walked towards the mess hall, feeling my stomach rumble.

Entering the room I looked to see what was on the menu for tonight's dinner.

Fish and tomatoes were an odd pairing but given our resources it was fairly good.

Grabbing a plate from Sinclair I searched for some familiar faces, to which I only found Bellamy.

Thinking the previous feelings for him faded I walked up and sat in front of him, a smile greeted me at my presence.

"Where is everyone?" I asked, getting comfortable and taking a bite of the fish. Not very flavorful.

"They headed to bed early,"

"Why didn't you?"

"Wanted to ask what was up with you earlier,"

Thank god I had finished my food, the intensity of his stare would've made my appetite vanish.

"I've just been distracted," I stated, hoping he would just take that for an answer. But I knew he'd keep budging.

"With?"

"I'm getting pretty tired, I'm gonna head to bed," I stood abruptly, not wishing to continue the conversation further. How else am I supposed to tell me best friend I had a wet dream about him and everytime I see him it comes back to me?

"Bye, bell," I flashed a nervous smile and quickly walked off before he could say anything else.

I knew I'd have to confront him sometime, but I'd hold off as long as I could until then.

Making it to my shared room I quickly opened the door and entered, Octavia probably spending the night in Lincoln's room. I was grateful for that, tonight I just needed to be alone.

Getting undressed I put on a pair of pajama shorts and just used Bellamy's jacket as a top.

Climbing into bed I slid under the covers, making sure to set my alarm this time.

Staring up at the ceiling for a good hour my mind clouded over with thoughts of Bellamy, it was expected at that point. I hadn't even noticed my hand going towards my cunt, rubbing myself through the fabric. Letting out soft, quiet moans at the feeling. As good as it felt I needed more.

My hand slid underneath the shorts and I teased my entrance, just as Bellamy did in my dream. Pushing into myself with two fingers the feeling was amazing, but imagining It was Bellamy again wasn't enough. I craved him, and in my lusty haze, I shot up and headed for the door.

I couldn't believe I was going to do this, I couldn't believe how badly I needed him.

I made a B-line for Bellamy's room, knocking on it. I was practically banging on it. A few seconds passed until I was met with the sight of Bellamy towering over me, his messy hair going in all directions, his shirt that hugged his arms so well, and his sweatpants that barely hid anything.

"Is your roommate in there?" I ask breathily.

With a shake of his head, I connect our lips in a messy needy kiss. The feeling of our lips touching for the first time makes me shiver, Bellamy makes no motion to push me off, instead, he pulls me inside, shutting the door with his hand. He picks me up and carries me to the bed, needing this just as much as I do.

He only pulls away when he sets me down on the bed, unzipping the jacket to find nothing under making him slyly smirk, my face flushed with an unimaginable redness. My mind now catching up with my heart.

This was really happening.

His hands gently fondle my breasts, soon snaking their way down my sides, to my hips, and then to my shorts, with every touch of his fingers, my body shivered, bathing in the attention from his hands and eyes.

He easily took off my shorts, the cool air hitting my now vulnerable warm cunt.

Bellamy was at a loss for words, never seeing something so beautiful before. The bulge in his pants now makes the material stick out in a more than noticeable way.

The feeling of embarrassment caught up with me, I moved my arms to cover myself but was stopped by Bellamy's tight grip.

"Don't," He demanded, letting go of my arms once I nodded shyly.

With a flushed face, Bellamy lowered his pants, revealing his cock. He took ahold of my legs and placed them on his shoulders, "Okay?" He asked, making sure this was really happening.

"Yeah, that's... that's good," I replied, reassuring him.

He guided his tip along my slit, coating it with my wetness as a type of lube. The feeling of him being so close to me made the hairs on my neck stand up.

I had wondered for a moment what people would think of us, but too in the moment to care.

Readying himself, Bellamy looked down at me again, taking in the sight of me with his jacket on.

"Please, I needed this," I muttered, "Needed you,"

"Feelings mutual, princess,"

And before I could reply he pushed in slowly, giving me time to adjust to his size. I let out a moan as he bottomed out in me. My hands reaching out for his, he met me halfway and grabbed ahold of them. His big hands intertwined with mine. He placed our hands above my head and gave them a squeeze.

I squeezed back, hard.

"Can I move?" He asked, he so badly wanted to move. But he wanted our first time together to be gentle, sweet, and full of genuine love.

I nodded hesitantly, preparing myself for the pain and pleasure.

Bellamy pulled out and pushed back in at a slow pace, agonizing to him, it took everything in him not to just slam back into you at a rough pace.

The moans I let out sounded like heaven to him, he couldn't help but join in with his own grunts of pleasure, the way I would tighten around him started to become too much, and he couldn't keep his own sounds in.

"You're doing so good," Bellamy assured between groans, his voice had become gruff.

I bit my lip to try and stay quiet, fearful the room next to him might hear.

Bellamy didn't like that at all, "Let them out, princess,"

And when I shook my head 'no', he slammed into me hard, forcing my moans out as I squeezed his hand more.

"Bellamy!" I moaned out.

This only egged him on, loving the way his name sounded on my tongue.

As much as it hurt, it felt amazing how well he filled me, and how easily he could hit my sweet spot.

"Faster, please," I begged, staring into his eyes.

"Alright, princess,"

Bellamy leaned in closer making my legs bend more, letting him go deeper inside me. His pace began to speed up, making my moans grow louder in volume.

Every thrust was a new place deeper inside me, I felt my legs begin to shake, the familiar feeling of ecstasy creeping up my stomach.

He must've caught on, "It's okay, cum on my dick, princess, go ahead,"

His reassuring words put me over the edge, "Bellamy, Bellamy!"

My back arched as I reached my high with Bellamy fucking me through it.

My climax brought him even closer, the way my pussy clenched around his cock was overwhelming for him. His thrusts became sloppy and unhinged. He tried to keep it in, to make this moment last longer.

His brows furrowed while he stared into my eyes, saving this memory forever, "You're so beautiful," he breathed out, "So pretty with my jacket on,"

With a few more erratic thrusts he quickly pulled out, finishing on my stomach, bringing a newfound warmth all over.

Full of hesitance he let go of my hands, taking off his shirt and cleaning his cock and my stomach off while catching his breath. He threw the shirt into a bin in the corner of his room. Now taking a place next to me, wrapping his arms around my exhausted body.

"Been dreaming of that since we met," He whispered in my ear, placing kisses all over my neck.

I smiled.

If only he knew.

◜♡﹒﹒𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭﹒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭﹒𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[mochiwrites]

Jellie tends to be a very curious cat, sometimes. She likes poking her nose into places it doesn’t belong, or snatching things from Scar and Grian when they catch her interest.

Maybe Scar should’ve known better, then.

He sits in his and Grian’s bedroom (it’s been theirs pretty much after the second month Scar moved in), a ring in his hands. The metal is cool against his palm, a soft rose gold. The band isn’t anything special, a simple engraving in it. Scar knew Grian would throw a fit if he found out Scar spent so many diamonds on the ring. So he tried to get something reasonable.

He can spoil Grian with the actual ring.

If he says yes, that is. Just the thought makes a shiver run of Scar’s spine. Is he really doing this? He and Grian have only been together for a year and a half, but Scar just knows that he’s the one. There isn’t any doubt in his mind about it. But does Grian feel the same?

Jellie jumps up on the bed next to Scar, meowing at him. She brushes her head against his arm as she settles beside him, and Scar smiles. “Well hello there beautiful lady. Are we requesting pets?” he teases as he brushes a hand through her fur. She curls up close to him, leaning into his touch. Scar sighs softly, scratching behind her ear. “I don’t know Jellie… do you think he’ll say yes?” he asks quietly. She stares blankly up at him. “Yeah okay, fair enough.”

Past their bedroom, the front door opens and shuts. “Scar, I’m home!”

Scar jumps up, disturbing a content Jellie. He shoots her an apologetic look, giving her one last pet. But the most crucial piece?

He makes the mistake of leaving the engagement ring on the bed.

As Scar walks out the room to greet his boyfriend, Jellie takes to making their bed her own. Yet as she moves, the shiny ring catches her attention. She tilts her head, curious about the shiny object. Sticking a paw out, she swats it. Again. And again. And again. Until the ring tips over the side of the bed, dropping to the floor with a ‘plop.’

Her pupils widen in that playful way they tend to do, wiggling before she pounces.

Oblivious to what his cat is doing, Scar is sweeping his boyfriend into a hug. “How was work?” he questions, looking down at Grian with a curious yet soft gaze.

“Tiring,” Grian huffs, content to melt into Scar’s grasp. He lifts his arms, returning the embrace as he does so. “I had to remake the blueprint at least five times until the guy was happy with it.”

Scar winces, “Eesh. Now I’m kind of glad he only wanted you to meet with him.”

Grian glowers at him in return, though the look is entirely playful. “Yeah, yeah.” He leans up, brushing their lips together in a soft kiss. “Consider yourself lucky.”

“I think I will, thank you.” Scar grins, stealing a kiss. “How does a movie and dinner sound?” He bumps their noses together as he smiles.

“Let me think about it,” Grian hums, booping his nose against Scar’s as he does so. “As long as there’s ice cream after.”

Scar lets out an affronted gasp, pulling away. “I’m offended you think there wouldn’t be ice cream after all!” he says as he walks toward the kitchen. “Go sit! I’ll grab the takeout leftovers.”

Laughing, Grian takes his shoes off and heads over into their living room. He finds Jellie there, playing with something caught between her paws. He fondly shakes his head at her, “What do you have now, miss?”

Jellie looks up at him with a meow as she swats at whatever it is she’s deemed her new toy, chasing at it. However, said mystery object knocks into Grian’s foot, and he gets it first.

Leaning down, Grian picks up what appears to be a rose gold ring. He inspects it in his hand, eyebrows knit together as he does. “Where did this come from?” He blinks at it, looking down at Jellie. “Did you rob someone?”

Jellie sits in front of him, slowly blinking. The perfect picture of innocence.

Shaking his head with a faint laugh, Grian looks at the ring again. His heart skips a beat as he really takes in the detail of it. He certainly didn’t buy it. Did Scar? And if he did then….

Heart a little louder, he turns to his boyfriend. “Hey, Scar?”

“Yes, love of my life?”

“Any clue what this is?”

Scar walks into the living room, the soft crackles of a furnace behind him. He pauses when he notices what Grian is holding in his hand. His eyes go wide, looking a little pale. To the side of Grian, he spots the movement of Jellie’s tail, and looks directly at her. “Traitor,” he mutters.

“Scar?” Grian questions, confused and… maybe a bit nervous.

“Haha uh… any chance we can forget this all happened and revisit it like. Next month?” Scar weakly chuckles, the epitome of nerves as he looks at Grian.

“What’s going on?” Grian’s brows furrow in confusion, a bit of concern leaking into his expression.

Scar knows trying to lie about it is practically pointless. Grian is too curious and too stubborn to let it go. And now that he’s seen the ring… Scar takes in a shaky breath. “Void, alright. Guess we’re doing this.”

He walks over to Grian, “May I?” He gestures for the ring, and Grian slowly nods. He hands the ring over to Scar, who accepts it with shaking hands. “Okay.” Scar sucks in a breath, unbelieving that he’s really doing this right now.

Slowly, Scar drops down on one knee in front of Grian, watching the way the other’s eyes go wide. But something about the position doesn’t feel quite right. Brows furrowing, Scar sets his other knee on the carpet below. “G? Mind kneeling with me here?” he asks, to which Grian nods. He joins Scar on the carpet, kneeling with him as well. “Much better,” he hums, pleased.

“Scar what?” Grian questions, lost and confused, and goodness his heart is beating so fast.

“I uh, I had a whole thing planned out, but Jellie seems to have thrown a wrench into all that,” Scar chuckles. “But it’s fine! I can improvise, who needs a plan?” He does. He needs a plan. Shaking his head, Scar reaches for one of Grian’s hands, grasping it in his own. He takes a measured breath, and begins to speak.

“I love you. More than words will ever be able to describe, G. You’ve done so much for me, more than I think I’ll ever be able to thank you for. You found me on the street, and despite being scammed by me, you still offered me a roof to live under, and a home to heal in.” Grian’s eyes are focused on him, listening with rapt attention. His gaze only worsens Scar’s nerves, heart beating a mile a minute. “You’re stubborn and witty, and sometimes you steal the blanket from me.”

Grian laughs.

Scar loves the sound.

“You don’t let me wallow in self pity, or memories of the harder times. You’re endlessly kind to both myself and Jellie, and everyone around you, even if your patience runs a little thin and you get snippy. We may get into a minor disagreement here and there, but you always come back around to me.” Scar smiles softly at him, so painfully fond and loving. “Back on that world… I never thought I would get to live life again. Or even enjoy the night sky without being afraid. It felt like a part of me was always missing, but I found that part with you.”

“Scar…” Grian trails off, face going red.

“G, you’re my home, my light. I want to spend every day waking up next to you and messing up pancake batter with you,” Scar laughs, the sound wet and shaky. Grian laughs with him, sounding just as affected. “I want to hold you on your bad days, and on your good ones. I want to be there through everything, for the rest of our lives. You’ve reminded me what it’s like to live and love, what it’s like to be me. There’s no one else for me, my heart and souls are yours.”

Scar swallows, holding the ring out to him. “So… will you entangle your life with mine forever? And marry me?” His expression turns bashful as he asks, and Grian is red in the face.

“You…” he trails off, amazed and in disbelief all at once. He looks between Scar and the ring, and he shakes his head. “I’ve been trying for days to find the perfect way of proposing to you, and you go and pull the rug right out from under me,” he laughs. “Curse how perfect you are sometimes.”

“C’mon G, you’re really leaving me hanging here!” Scar whines at him, making Grian laugh all over again.

Grian wraps his arms around Scar’s shoulders, pressing their lips together. “Yes, you spoon. I don’t want anyone else. Just you.”

If their neighbors hear how loudly Scar yells, well… it’s a warm congratulations to the newly engaged couple.

Jellie watches her humans cry in each others arms, tail flicking lazily at her side. She better get extra treats for this.

(It’s only later, when they’re sitting on the couch, curled into each other, that Scar realizes what Grian said. He turns to him, “Wait, you were planning to propose too?”

Grian snorts with laughter, “Hadn’t even picked out a ring, but yes Scar, I was.”)

[troublesomesnitch]

Phonesex with Aemond

Modern!Aemond x Reader

Modern AU - Aemond calls you after the dinner fight, and you cheer him up in the best way you can.

Contents: some quick smut. New relationship, mentions of oral sex, p in v sex and brief anal exploration (f receiving).

Warnings: brief mention of terminal illness.

Words: 3300

Thank you @arcielee for test-reading, tidying and generally helping out with this little experimental fic!

It has been six days since Aemond kissed you goodbye and shoved his skis and his snow gear and his aluminium suitcase into the back of a taxi. Six days, and you haven't heard from him since, not a single message, and no indication that he's read yours either. Six days, and the farewell kiss was just a sterile peck on the side of your mouth, because the driver was watching, and Aemond was in a foul mood already.

You suppose the thought of two weeks with one's extended family can do that to a person. And especially when one's family is as messy as Aemond's.

They're in the tabloids sometimes, Aegon with a model on his arm, Rhaenyra spotted topless in Ibiza, Viserys leaving the hospital looking more dead than alive. Old money, and every bit the stereotype too, with their luncheons and country estates and public feuds over inheritance. And the incident, of course. But Aemond never talks about that.

The family trip is solely his father's idea. Or, his father's command, really. His final wish; that they should all spend one last Christmas together at the chalet, eating venison and going cross-country skiing and whatever else rich people do on their alpine retreats. It is all very Town & Country, so far removed from anything you know. They have a coat of arms, for fucks sake, and Aemond wears it engraved on the back of his watch; on the cufflinks that sit in a velvet box atop his dresser. For special occasions, and you'd be lying if you said the thought had never crossed your mind: Aemond in coat and tie and cufflinks, yourself decked out in white and his mother's antique veil. Champagne fountain and monogrammed napkins and an article in Vogue Weddings. Double spread.

But you're getting way ahead of yourself. You have only been seeing each other for about three months, and it is still very new and foreign. Terrifying as well, and your heart leaps to your throat when your phone starts ringing and Aemond's name lights up on the screen.

Six days, and it's a quarter to midnight now, so that almost makes it seven.

"Hey," he says softly. "Did I wake you?"

"No!“ you exclaim, a little too excitedly despite your efforts to sound casual. “I was just watching something. How's St. Moritz?"

"Fine," he says, but it doesn't sound at all convincing, and there's a faint sound in the background. Like a scraping noise, and you imagine that he's picking at his cuticles; at the little chips in his nails.

"Aemond," you call, somewhat alarmed by the silence. "Is everything okay?"

The scraping gets louder before it finally stops and Aemond says sort of.

There was a fight at supper, apparently. An actual fight, with punching and shoving and everything. Straight out of Real Housewives, only even more insane, and Aemond started it, because of course he did. And all because of a stupid joke his nephew made.

"Isn't he like, fourteen?" you ask, and Aemond sighs on the other end of the line.

"Yeah," he mutters. "Something like that".

Jesus.

You are tempted to ask him why he would do such a thing, but you kind of already know. Because of his father, because of his sister, because of the incident. Because Viserys would rather dote on his grandsons than his own children, and because Aemond has chronic pains, and the prosthetic gets itchy, and he dented his car when he couldn't see how close that concrete pillar actually was.

And probably also because he doesn't hold his liquor very well.

"Aemond, you're a grown man," you begin, and your voice is kind and gentle, but you can almost hear how he's pinching the bridge of his nose. "I mean, I understand why you'd be upse - angry, but like. He's a child."

"I know," he sighs, shuffling around with something. "I shouldn't have done it.”  

There's the click of a lighter and then a deep exhale as he blows out smoke, and it reminds you of when you first met. You used to watch Aemond all the time before you worked up the courage to talk to him. He would lean so leisurely against the wall, cigarette in hand and that haughty smirk on his lips; leather jacket, black jeans, hair artfully tousled and tied back. Tall and handsome and just so fucking cool.

"Thought you quit," you tease, and it sounds a little chiding, but it isn't meant like that.

"I did," Aemond says. "I got this one from my uncle - it would have been rude to decline.”

He is quiet then, but it's a sort of contemplative silence. Like somehow you can feel there is more.

"It pisses me off," he finally says. "This whole charade - it's exhausting.”

Yes, you think. It must be. All of his family trapped under the same roof, forced to confront so many painful memories, yet act as though none of it ever happened. Smile and laugh and play house, and all so Viserys Targaryen can pretend he was a better man. Go to his grave with the comfortable illusion that he did not create the rift that tore his family apart.

If Aemond was with you right now, you would wrap your arms around him and kiss his face and his lovely hands, but all you can do at this moment is give a weak yeah, I understand.

"It has been the most miserable week," he moans. "Although - Aegon did fall off a lift today. He's fine, it was just a T-bar. But that was fun."

You giggle. "Oh, poor Aegon.”

"It was his own fault," Aemond snorts. "He had Jägerbombs for lunch. Anyway - " he clears his throat, back to the brooding mood and somber voice. "I'm sorry I called you so late. And for not being in touch. And for... everything else.”

"It's fine," you shrug. "I don't mind. But, Aemond - " you pause, thinking of how best to word the next part, "I think you should at least consider apologising to -"

"No." he cuts in. "Absolutely not.”

There's an awkward silence then, and you worry you might have overstepped your boundaries. He is so difficult to read sometimes, so elusive. You never quite know what he needs from you, sympathy, or flattery, or reassurance, or nothing at all.

You can, however, think of a way to distract him from his brooding. And maybe sex isn't the healthiest way to cope with one's issues, but still. It is miles better than beating up family members.

You twirl a lock of hair around your finger, even though he can’t see it. "What are you doing right now? Are you alone?"

“Yes,“ he says, curious. “Why?”

"What are you wearing?"

"Same thing I always wear," he responds, but then his voice turns coy and teasing, and he asks "what are you wearing?"

You look down at your fuzzy socks, your faded shorts, the worn-out knickers underneath.

"Honestly? Not anything nice."

Aemond laughs, a real laugh this time, and then he tells you just make something up.

The first thing that comes to your mind is that dress you saw the other day. Aemond would like it. He is not into extravagant lingerie and things like that, always likes it best when you are just you. Dry patches on your lips, bruises on your legs and all. Natural. 

But he is still a man though. So, not too natural.

"I'm wearing - I'm wearing a little slip. Silk, and it's the prettiest colour. It is soft to the touch," - you run a finger up your thigh, imagining it - "and it is very short. My legs are out and everything. And my tits look so good in it.”

"They always do," Aemond says, and he sounds a little husky when he asks what is underneath?

"Those panties you liked last time. With the little bows on them?"

"Yeah," he breathes. "I remember.”

"Good. Just the panties, and nothing else. And the dress is so thin - it feels like nothing when you touch it."

You lay back on top of your bed, your hand working its way down the waistband of your sleeping shorts, phone pressed to your ear. 

"I want to touch you," Aemond sighs, voice all soft and gentle. "I want to feel your body against mine.”

You blush. He is quite the romantic sometimes. Jesus, Aemond is so out of your league. You can hardly believe he'd even look in your direction, let alone kiss you and hold you and let you sleep with your head on his chest.

"Aemond" you whisper, slowly stroking your between your legs. "I'm getting all wet. All wet for you".

His breath hitches, and there's a faint oh, followed by the rustling of fabric as he palms himself over his pants. Lowering his voice and breathing touch yourself.

"I already am" you purr. "I wish it was you, though. Wish you could feel how much I want you."

Aemond says fuck, he wishes that too. You're getting him so hard. So hard just thinking about your pretty cunt.

"I'd like to suck your cock" you sigh longingly, and he immediately responds with a sharp breath that makes warmth spread in your stomach.

"Wait -" he mutters. "Hang on".

You hear the metallic clink of his belt, the sound of his zipper, and you bite your lip thinking about what he's doing. Taking his stiff cock in hand, brushing slender fingers along the shaft, running a thumb over the tip to collect the little drops that have already leaked from it. He has the prettiest cock, long and thick and veiny. Uncut, and blushing red at the tip when you slide his foreskin back. 

How you wish you could feel it in your mouth.

"Tell me how you'd do it" Aemond pleads, and there's a slight strain in his voice that suits it so well. 

"I'll start out slow," you whisper, "with just my tongue and my hand. Get your cock big and hard before I take you in my mouth. And then I'll wrap my lips around the head, and I'll press my tongue against the little slit there. And - and I’ll lick the tip of your cock until you’re begging me for more.”

He sighs, and you can hear how his hand settles into a steady rhythm, up and down over his hard cock. Filthy. 

You close your eyes and continue.

"I'd take you so deep, all the way to the back of my throat. And I would tease you - I'd be real fucking mean. I want you leaking in my mouth, all needy and desperate for me. Like, so you can barely hold it back anymore. You'd be ready to explode.”

"Don't stop - " he pants, still keeping up the stroking, pausing just briefly to spit into his hand.

"I'll edge you before I let you come. So many times, you'll be desperate for release. I want your balls so tight and heavy - all tender from how much you need to come - ”

Aemond moans, and he's stroking himself faster, tugging and tugging and filling his bedroom with damp, lewd noises. You know how he likes it; firm grip when he moves up, slack going back down, slight twist at the tip.

"And then?"

"I'd let you come in my mouth."

"No," he breathes. "I want to come inside of you.”

You give a little giggle; he always wants that. Occasionally he’ll finish all over your breasts, or in your mouth, but mostly he likes it the old fashioned way. Your bodies molded together and his cock pulsing deep inside of you. Pressing his forehead to yours or moaning into the back of neck. 

You like that too - but there are other things you might like to try as well. 

"You should come on my panties," you say coyly. "Like, inside them. And then I'd wear them all day, and just walk around with your cum between my legs.”

Aemond groans again, loudly, hoarse and strained and so fucking hot.

"You'd like that?" you tease. "I would feel it there all day. All wet and warm in my little panties. Right against my cunt."

"Fuck," he moans. "Fuck - I'd like that so much."

The sounds of his tugging get louder and faster, and you picture him laid out on his bed, cock throbbing in his hand, hips thrusting up and up into his own grip. Lone eye closed and mouth falling open. 

He lets out a soft moan, and a whine - and then the stroking abruptly stops. Close call, that one. Aemond curses, and you can hear him taking deep breaths, calming his body, halting the mounting need to ejaculate. Too soon.

“Can't wait to have you,” he mutters, and you give a quiet hum in response. 

“Please tell me how.”

He takes a slow, steadying breath.

"I want to be on top of you" he whispers, low, so no one will hear.  "Don't care if you're on your back or what, as long as you're underneath me".

"I'd be on my stomach. You can fuck me from behind".

“Yes,” he sighs. “I want to put my cock so deep inside you. I want you to feel how hard you make me. And I'll pin you down - I'll hold you in place when I take you" - his voice goes all ragged as he starts to slowly stroke his cock again - "fuck you're so beautiful when you're under me."

You mewl, and Aemond’s breath hitches.

“Yeah, and I'll fuck you slow, but hard. I want you squirming on my cock…”  he trails off, and for a moment there is only the sound of heavy breathing, his and yours. 

You had paused your own ministrations before, too focused on finding the right words, but now you begin your gentle stroking again. Underneath your knickers, fingers massaging right over your clit, so good that you let out a little whimper. 

“I love feeling you inside of me” you breathe, “I love it when you lie on top of me - ”

“Yeah?” He gasps, and you bite your lip. 

“Yeah. And I love it when you touch my - ass. Oh It feels so good when you touch me like that…”

Just saying it makes you a little flustered. You would not consider yourself very prudish, but there are some things that make you feel bashful, and this is one of them, the things he does to your backside when you’re together. And Aemond knows, and maybe that makes it even more arousing for him, the filthiness of it, the taboo. 

“How” he moans, his tone urgent and so incredibly intimate. “How do you want me to touch you -”

You have to take a very deep breath before you continue - you feel so sheepish, talking about that, but you are a woman in love, so for Aemond you’ll do your best. 

“I want you to slide your hand down my back and in between my cheeks,” you whisper, blushing all over. “It makes me so wet… feels so good when you caress me there - when you brush your fingers right over my tight little hole while you’re fucking me - maybe next time I’ll let you slip one inside…“

Aemond gives a strangled groan at that, quickening his strokes and hissing oh fuck. He is so close now, you can hear it. 

“Say my name” he begs, breathing so fast and tugging frantically on his cock. All hard and swollen now, his hips thrusting up, his balls pulling tight; oh you can imagine it so easily. 

“Aemond” you whisper. “Aemond, my love” - he moans louder, strokes harder - Aemond, I want you to fuck me, I want to feel your big, hard cock - 

Aemond chokes out a sob, and you say his name one last time as he reaches his peak. 

He holds back when he comes, muffling the helpless groans and grunts that you always love so much. But you can hear his strained sighs, his ragged breaths, and the sound is only slightly distorted through the speaker. If you close your eyes it's like he's there with you, gasping right in your ear. 

Oh you can’t wait to see him again, to get to touch him, cuddle up to him at night and run your finger down the perfect angle of his nose.

"You didn't come," Aemond says, accusingly, and you hold back a chuckle because he doesn't like it when you laugh at him. But it is as amusing as it is sweet, this need of his to do everything to perfection. Like if every time he is intimate with you isn't the BEST sex of your life, then he has failed as a lover; as a man.

“I did it on purpose” you reassure. “I'm saving it for you. All for you. Only for you.”

Aemond gives a somewhat dissatisfied hum, but he is occupied with something else now, moving around and fiddling with things. Cleaning himself up, you suppose. If only you were there to do it for him, you'd lick his cum right off his skin.

There is a loud noise in the background all of a sudden, someone knocking on Aemond’s door, and he scrambles to make himself presentable and tells you to hang on. The sounds are muffled - you assume he is covering the microphone - but you can hear another man's voice, and Aemond saying yes, I'll be right down, and then just fuck off, will you when the intruder won't take a hint.

"Sorry about that," he says awkwardly. "Aegon wants to go out. I should go with him".

You giggle at the thought - it is difficult to imagine Aemond at one of those tacky aprés-ski bars, glow stick and vodka-cranberry in hand. “Sounds fun!”

"Yeah, well, my mother would want me to,” he says sullenly. "You know, make sure he doesn't do anything stupid.”

"What's the age of consent in Switzerland?" you jest, but Aemond just gives an exasperated sigh and mutters too bloody low.

You pause, unsure of what to say next, and again there's that loaded silence until he clears his throat.

"I will tell them about you. My family - I'll tell them soon. I promise.”

You can feel heat rising in your cheeks. 

Aemond purposely keeps you far away from his family, and he’ll go to great lengths to avoid running into them when you’re together. In fact he prefers not to go out at all, and you have never questioned it or complained. He’s got you hook, line and sinker - could tell you right to your face that he was embarrassed to be seen with you, and you would still be at his beck and call. 

You shrug. “It's fine. Don't worry about it. You don't have to tell them. It's fine.”

“No it isn't,” he says gravely. “You're important to me. So I should treat you as such.”

He says something else after that too, but you aren't listening, still stuck on the words you just heard. You're important to me. You're important.

It makes your heart leap with joy, and you are only pulled back to reality when Aemond calls out your name, and then sweetheart?

He doesn't call you that very often. It is always so nice when he does.

“Sorry” you blush. “I zoned out. But - I've missed you. I miss you. It's nice to hear your voice again.”

There's no way to tell, but somehow you feel like Aemond is smiling.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “Yours too.”

You tell him to have fun with Aegon and whatever horrid establishment they end up at, and Aemond tells you goodnight and says he'll call you as soon as he's back home. He doesn't say he misses you too, but that's okay. You know he does.

Because you're important.

[saerins]

─── 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

+ sae x f!reader | wc 3.2k | content: angst, insecurities, death

notes: i’m sorry idk how this came about but i was in a mood :’) i promise i love him okay <3 feedback & reblogs appreciated !!

summary: he’s back home, and you recall the times you’d spoken to him. all the calls you made, then all the calls he made, and then all the times it went to voicemail.

you remember every conversation you’ve had with your boyfriend. the good and the bad, the beautiful and the ugly. it’s hard to quantify into numbers since you’d been together for the last five years.

but there’s a few of them that are prominent, that are burned into your mind, engraved onto your brain. the sound of his laugh, for one, that’s always been precious to you, if only for the fact that he doesn’t laugh often.

sae always said you were the only one who could get that out of him, and you’ve kept it close to your heart since.

to the world, he may have seemed rude and off-putting at times, and despite the countless false reports of sae being an asshole to all his girlfriends in private (because the media can never decide who he’s actually with), he’s always been the same itoshi sae to you—the kind of guy who only ever bothers what you think about him because the other people not involved in your relationship don’t matter.

you remember everything he’s ever done for you.

“you know that one day you’ll be mrs. itoshi, right?”

yeah, you definitely remember.

MARCH 2020; [ sae’s fifth day in spain ]

“you miss me, itoshi sae?”

you can feel him rolling his eyes from the other end. “i should just hang up right now.”

“you could, but then you’d miss me even more.”

sae suppresses a grin, even if there’s no one around to see it. you’re right, but he doesn’t say anything.

it was rare for sae to call you at all. but then again, it is the first time you two had been apart since you got together. maybe it isn’t so weird after all.

“how’d practice go today?”

“it’s fine, nothing i couldn’t handle.” of course he’s fine, he’s the youngest on the team and yet it was as though he’d played the longest.

“of course it was fine, mr genius,” you tease, and he smiles because he knows you’re smiling too.

you can’t really remember how the rest of the conversation went. but you only remember this moment because it was the first time you realised that amidst all the times you’d pester him to go on a date with you, amidst all the times you asked him for a kiss, sae could miss you too.

SEPTEMBER 2020; [ sae comes back to japan soon ]

“hey so i was thinking, i’ll meet you at the airport?”

sae hums, “wanna see me that bad, huh?”

“shut up,” you snap at him, hating his quick tongue that so easily gets you flustered. “so i miss my handsome, successful boyfriend, big deal.”

he missed you too.

“am i just arm candy for you, y/n?”

“what? no—”

“too late. i’m offended. bye.”

then he actually hangs up on you.

it takes you half a second to pull up your message thread with him.

itoshi sae, you wanna die or something?

it takes him the same amount of time to respond to you.

y/n l/n, okay, then maybe i’d get some relief from you.

before you can even be actually offended, your phone vibrates again.

miss you too, stupid. see you tomorrow.

you can’t seem to rub the smile off your face.

FEBRUARY 2021; [ first valentines’ apart ]

it takes him three rings to pick up.

“happy valentines’, lover,” you giggle over the phone.

it’s been a few months since your about-to-go-pro soccer player boyfriend had gone back to spain, doing pro soccer player things. you miss him, especially since it’s the first time you guys are spending the romantic occasion apart.

it sucks that you couldn’t even spend new years with him. it’s okay though, you managed to video call him while you spent time with his family.

“think you got the wrong number.”

“itoshi—”

“open the door, smarty pants.”

“w-wait, what? did you send me something?”

you hurry over to your front door, not knowing what to expect. but you definitely didn’t expect sae to be there, in the flesh, sighing when you finally open your door, a pretty bouquet of flowers in his hand.

“what are you doing here?” you’re still shocked from his mere presence.

sae smirks, and you realise just how much you miss him. “think i got the wrong apartment, i was supposed to deliver these to my other girl—”

but you kiss him to shut him up. he’s full of nonsense, and so, so witty, and he’s here.

sae’s always claimed that it was not soccer stealing him from you, it was more the other way around. and he had been joking at the time he said that, but right now he thinks maybe there’s some truth to it.

if there’s anyone capable of having and getting him to willingly relinquish his attention from soccer, it’s you.

JUNE 2021; [ night of sae’s first PR event ]

“someone looks handsome,” you comment as you watch your boyfriend getting ready over the phone.

he has an entire entourage of people over at his hotel—they must be the makeup crew and stylists. his entire team is getting vip treatment for being champions of the league thanks to last week’s game. now, even more brands are trying to sponsor them and you really shouldn’t be surprised over the amount of girls going crazy over your boyfriend.

“and someone should really sleep,” sae pauses for a moment when the man beside him (presumably his stylist, because he’s double checking sae’s suit) asks a quick that your girlfriend?, to which sae says “yes.”

the man winks at you through the video. “lucky girl,” he comments, eyes back on the fabric he’s touching, “the only time i caught him smiling was while he was texting ya.”

you snicker through the phone as you watch sae’s face go beet red before frowning at you.

“he did not.”

his stylist is laughing at his reaction too. “totally did. i thought he was possessed.”

sae grabs the phone and relegates himself to the bathroom, glaring at you through the screen. he’s not mad at you, he’s just embarrassed and you know that. you’ve known him long enough now to tell his cues.

“i hope you know i hate you.”

he’s always all bark and no bite and you’re still laughing at him.

“aw, i hate you too, mr itoshi.”

“stop with the smart mouth before i find another contender for a mrs itoshi.”

you and sae had been staring at each other through the screen up until that point, when sae realised what he just said and has to look away.

“you… think i could be?”

neither you nor sae have ever broached another about the future, and sae has always been generally avoidant about it, which is why it makes you even more surprised that he’s the one who slipped up about it.

after a moment of silence, he sighs, trying to suppress a smile. it tugs at the edges of his lips, not really there but you can feel it.

“you know that one day you’ll be mrs itoshi, right?”

you don’t know that, he doesn’t know that, not until the day has come. but yeah, you really, really want to be.

OCTOBER 2022; [ sae’s birthday ]

“happy birthday, mr. itoshi,” you greet when he picks up the phone.

things had been rocky lately, admittedly. only because you and sae lived worlds apart.

sae is famous now, in both japan and europe, and it’s no surprise because he’s one of the best midfielders anyone has ever seen. his life is now full of the glitz and glam that you’re not even close to familiar with.

and you; you’re just a simple girl living in tokyo, with a normal life and normal friends and normal everything. except for the fact that sometimes people stalk you online because based on theories, you’re his girlfriend.

he was advised against confirming your identity with the press. for a myriad of reasons, apparently. and you’re fine with it, because yeah, you’re aware there are games to be played when you have his status. and it was fine with you, except for times when it’s not.

like how at his previous PR event he had to appear like he was dating some other celebrity. which was fine, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t suck having to see your boyfriend appear intimate with someone else. even worse when you hear said someone else mention in multiple interviews that she’s always had a huge crush on him.

“thanks, though it kinda sucks today.”

but it’s fine; you’ve been with him long enough to know that sae isn’t the type to hurt you like that. so even if it’s rocky, it doesn’t stop you from loving him.

“why? i thought the guys were bringing you out drinking tonight.”

sae sighs. “that’s exactly why.”

you smile, thinking how sae is still the same sae you’ve always known. “you’ve been playing with them for more than a year now, i think one night out wouldn’t kill you, babe.”

“but they’re freaks.” and sae says that because they’re rowdy, noisy guys and he doesn’t even want to imagine them drunk.

“we both know they’re going to bother you to no end if you don’t go,” you point out, and sae relents. “and if you need an escape when you’re too tired, you could just use my name.”

you break into a grin because you know for a fact that sae uses you as an excuse to his publicist sometimes to not attend events.

“yeah, maybe i’ll tell ‘em the missus is angry,” he jokes, and you find yourself wishing you could hug him right now.

“have fun tonight, okay?” a little hesitance comes to you before you ultimately open your mouth, “i love you.”

sae chuckles, and he can’t even describe the relief that comes to him each time he hears you say those words.

“i love you too.”

DECEMBER 2022; [ the day you break ]

you don’t pick up his call.

when you saw the picture earlier, it’s like you’ve gone numb. and now everyone in the world will see the picture too. but you don’t really care. the images the paparazzi capture will die down after a while. the rumours will take longer.

right now you’re not even sure if your relationship is dead.

but you love him. you still do. and he’s still calling for what seems like the ninetieth time tonight.

this time you pick up.

“what?”

sae flinches on the other line because he’s not used to this coldness. “can i at least explain?”

you sniffle, gritting your teeth to stop your crying. “sure, why don’t you explain why i had to find out from the fucking news that you kissed someone else on your birthday?”

it’s that girl. the same celebrity you’ve seen ogling him and gushing over him and the one who has PR relations with him.

“i promise, she means nothing,” and you can hear the panic in sae’s voice. he sounds apologetic and manic and scared. “look, i-i was drunk, and she kissed me, and i pushed her off right after—”

“then why didn’t you tell me?” you yell back. because you’re sure that’s what happened. you believe him. but it wasn’t the fact that some other girl was so desperate for him that she’d do that, it was the fact that sae kept it from you.

sae can’t answer. he knows it, but he’s struggling to find the words. “i-i didn’t want you to misunderstand,” is all he can manage.

you pause for a while because you’re crying again, and sae can sense it even if you’re silent. he loves you and he’s killing himself for his stupid decisions.

“sae,” you call him, softly. “is that how much you know me?” because after all this time, you’d think he’d know better. you trusted him. a hundred percent. now? you’re not sure.

“please, y/n, i’m sorry, please just- forgive me?” and sae’s not sure how to do this. sae’s never had anyone he cared about this much other than you. you’re the only one and you forever will be. and he’s stupid and clueless outside of soccer but he’s always had you to hold his hand through this, yet now you feel further away from him than ever.

you’re quiet and he’s not sure what to expect. you’re just sniffling on the other side, not saying anything, and for the first time in his life, sae is afraid.

“babe, i—”

“don’t say it, sae,” you sigh, because you don’t want to think that he’s saying it just to appease you.

sae obeys, because he’s scared that just a little nudge would push you right off the edge. “i’m gonna fix this, okay? i’ll tell everyone that—”

“it’s fine,” you interject, your mind in shambles. you’re tired, and you really don’t know what to do about this when it’s so fresh in your heart. “i need to think things through anyway.”

“no- y/n, please, i—”

and for the first time ever, you’re the one who hangs up abruptly. then you turn off your phone because you know sae’s not going to stop but you really just don’t want to to feel bad about not picking up.

you still love him, but you’re just heartbroken right now.

sae stares at his phone after you hang up. he can hear his heart beating out of his chest and his breathing gets shallow. he tries to call you again but it’s not even ringing.

there’s only one thing he knows: he fucked up.

a stupid, stupid mistake which was grave enough to make you doubt everything and you’re right. this was on him for not opening his stupid mouth and just trusting that you’d understand.

for the first time ever, he heard what you sounded like when you’re hurt and he can’t forgive himself. not if he doesn’t do anything about it.

he gives up on trying to call you and pulls up his club’s coach’s contact instead. “sub someone else in for me tomorrow, i won’t be there.”

“what? what are you talking about? we can’t play without our star midfielder! it’s a big match against our home rivals—”

but everything he’s lecturing sae about falls on deaf ears because sae’s already packing his duffel bag and searching for his passport. he doesn’t even bother acknowledging anything before he hangs up, dialing his assistant’s number instead.

“i need to fly back to tokyo. immediately.”

his assistant’s distraught voice is apparent. “wha- um, you have a game tomorrow—”

“i don’t care. i need to fly now. get me a flight or you’re fired.”

“uh, but- um, the private jet’s not available—”

“then get me tickets on a commercial flight. i don’t fucking care about what kind of plane it is.”

yeah, because he only cares about fixing things with you. no one and nothing else, just you.

his assistant sighs because he knows he’s going to get in trouble for aiding sae. “fine, i’ll send you the details soon.”

JANUARY 2023; [ the present ]

it goes straight to voicemail. you still talk.

“you know, i hate you so much for not having a voicemail recording.”

you pause, the tears streaming down your face. you’re staring at your phone, at his instagram, at his last post. something he posted before his flight.

a picture of the both of you in private, in your room. he’s sitting behind you on the bed, his arms around your neck as he kisses your head and you take the picture.

it’s funny because he was forbidden from sharing any sort of those pictures yet he still did it anyway. you stare at the caption.

i love only you

“itoshi sae, how am i going to hear your voice now, huh?”

you’re already full-on crying now, as you have been for the last month.

“itoshi sae! talk to me, answer me!” you’re screaming but no one will ever hear you.

how can sae hear you? you’re unreasonable for expecting that.

“tell me how to reach you,” you wail into the receiver.

you’re painfully aware of what you’re getting now.

“i love you, mr. itoshi.”

there’s no one on the other line who’ll chuckle now. you can’t hear the same fondness in his voice when he says he loves you too. you can’t ever hear him joking with you again.

no more sighs, no more video calls, no more love. no more you know one day you’ll be mrs. itoshi, right?

you hang up and look at the note in your hand; something sae’s assistant passed to you on the day of his funeral.

a few weeks ago, sae asked me to get this for him. i know he wanted you to have this. before he left for tokyo, he told me to get this done for you at all costs. it was only ready a day after he left. i thought you might still like to have this. i’m sorry you have to go through this.

the gold velvet box sits heavy in your hand. it’s all of sae’s commitment to you, feelings for you—it’s all of his resolution in one tiny package and it’s heavy.

you open it, same as the countless times before.

it’s still beautiful. it’s shiny and four carats and princess cut because you were always his princess. inside the band, he has mrs itoshi engraved.

you know one day you’ll be mrs. itoshi, right?

you bring up his messages and play the last audio he sent to you.

“look, i know i fucked up and it was stupid of me to keep it from you. i’m sorry, okay? and i know you don’t want to speak to me right now but i can’t just sit around and do nothing. i love you, so i’m coming back home, and we’ll talk, and then… i promise you, nothing like this will happen again.”

you remember your last words to him and can’t help but to hate yourself. you should’ve told him one last time before you lost your chance.

if you’d just stayed on the line, he wouldn’t have come back. if he didn’t come back, he wouldn’t have gotten into that cab. if he didn’t get into that cab, he wouldn’t have been in that fatal accident in shibuya.

staring at the ring, calling his number, getting no response, visiting his plot and running into rin. and repeat. that’s all life is now.

sometimes you wear the ring to pretend he’s still here. to pretend he’s already proposed and you’re waiting for him to come back from spain.

you’re probably at voicemail #314 now.

mrs itoshi stares at you until you’re crying all over again.

you’ll never hear his voice again. never hear his laugh. never get to hug him, or pick fights with him. you’ll never get to feel his broad shoulders or his strong arms around your body. you won’t get to go home ever again.

you’ll never be mrs itoshi now.

[hyuuukais]

-`♡´ - APARTMENT 143

pairing -> lee minho x fem reader

synopsis -> after a bad breakup, y/n needs to find a new place to live. although she's grateful for her best friend, up-and-coming model hwang hyunjin, for letting her stay at his, she can't keep living with him and his model roommates. so when an opening for somewhere nearby with cheap rent opens up, she jumps on it, despite knowing next to nothing about the 3 other tenants, only that one owns 3 cats. the three quickly learn of her breakup, determined to help get her back on her feet. but what happens when one of them begins to develop feelings?

warnings -> general, feelings of anxiety, punches r thrown

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CHAPTER FIVE -> BAD BITCH ENERGY (partially written! wc:722)

"Actually, I can't do this!" You exclaim, anxiety gnawing at your lungs as you get closer to your home.

"Yes, you can." Minho drives on, not sparing a glance in your direction.

Sooner than you hoped, you're there, staring at the pale yellow door through the passenger side window of Minho's car. The house looks no different than when you left, only you can see your flowers drooping slightly in the window. Although you'd only been gone less than a week, it felt like a million years. This place was no longer your home; you didn't know if you had one anymore.

"Just- can we stay parked here for a second?" You try to squash the tight feeling in your throat, constricting your words to a whisper. "I'm not ready."

"No offence, but I don't really wanna waste my gas sitting here all day-"

"Yeah, and that thing I left for you was actually kind of important-" Beomgyu chips in.

"I basically stood someone up for you, so you better not chicken out-" Han gives you a pointed look.

They all stare at you and you have to look away, hide the tears welling in your eyes. You're going to disappoint them if you don't go, just like you disappointed Seonghwa, just like you always do. You never should have asked them, never should have burdened them with this-

"Hey." Minho shifts his body to face you better and you glance over, eyes falling to your hands. "How about we come with you? Would that make it better? Easier?"

You look up at his question, tears now threatening to spill over. "Yes, please."

"Shit, she's gonna cry again!" Beomgyu laughed uncomfortably. "Y/n, c'mon, it'll be okay, don't worry! You've got us. Now, wipe your eyes and let's go. Can't have your ex seeing you this distraught over him, can we?"

"Bad bitch energy," you say in a broken voice, words NingNing has tried to engrave into your very brain over the years.

"Bad bi-" Han waves a hand in the air. "Yeah, sure, whatever you say."

You wipe your eyes, trying to muster every bit of strength you have to see him, placing a hand on the door handle. A wave of fear washes over you again when you start to push it open, the boys following suit.

But then you slam it shut.

Han groans loudly and sits back down, Beomgyu and Minho doing the same.

"What happened?" Han asks, exasperated. "Where's the bad bitch energy or whatever?"

"I'm sorry!" You can't look at them. "I'm sorry. I can't-"

"Enough with the 'I cant's' because yes, you can." Minho turns his whole body to you again, grabbing your chin with two fingers, and making you look at him. "He broke your heart. He hurt you. So, yes, you can go in there, reclaim your things, and never have to see him again. There's no reason for you to even think about him after this." He can tell you're not fully convinced. "How did it feel to see him with the other woman?"

"It felt like my heart shattered into a million pieces," you say. Minho opens his mouth, but you continue on. "Then he took those pieces, ground them up into a fine powder, and scattered them to the edges of the Earth where I'll never find them again. It felt like the ultimate betrayal because I knew I gave him everything and trusted him, but he clearly didn't do the same. Or even close."

You sit up straighter, squaring your shoulders.

"Yes, there, that's it." Minho smirks, eyes widening ever so slightly.

"And the way he thought I'd be the one cheating?" You're anger flares, skin heating up. "As if I didn't tell him how much I loved him daily? As if I wouldn't be too busy working on something that I was proud of that he didn't even let me talk about because, 'oh, honey, we both know your career isn't going any further'."

Anger leads you out of the car and to the front door before you can register your feet moving, pounding a fist on the door when the spare key is nowhere to be found, mumbling every wrongdoing he's committed.

You are furious.

And your hand moves on its own when Seonghwa opens the door.

notes -> do NAWT mess w miss y/nnie. she WILL beat ur ass.

notes pt 2 -> didn't mean to post this! so accidental extra chapter today lmaoo

taglist -> @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @puppyminnnie @tfshouldidohere @kangaracha @chlodavids @whitney190 @thisisnotjacinta @borahae-reads @brooklynie @gini143 @kayleigh-28 @skz-streamer @babyphotos0325 @scallywag1299 @venusmoonxnight @naomisosoup @fertiliezedtoesw @s00buwu @realrintaro @anothershorthuman @skzstaykatsy @ilovejeongin007 @btswestan @taeriffic @ihrtlix @raehawthorne @euphoric-univers @hyperpixie @evermourning @satsuri3su @jazziwritesthings @minhwa @wyzminho @fic-for-readers @dreamerwasfound @imsiriuslyreal @lailac13

L^^^ orange means i can't tag you

[sydnieminty]

Ares, the god of war 🩸

Also including an Aphrodite ref sheet that I've had 90% finished for like the last 8 months but hadn't bothered to finish until just recently lol

Anyways buckle up because I'm about to start YAPPIN

I wasn't sure how this was gonna go at first because I don't have a lot of experience with designing male characters and it's not something I typically enjoy but I really like how he turned out and I really enjoyed the process. I was like wait this is fun actually, it's different than what I usually draw.

I've been wanting to do something with Ares for a long time because I think he's really slept on in the Greek mythology community. I think Ares and Aphrodite probably have the healthiest relationship in Greek mythology and I've always found it interesting that the ancient Greeks paired Love with War

I've seen people talk shit about Aphrodite like "oh she cheats on her husband, that's so shitty" like,, you mean the husband she was forced to marry? Ok... But on that note I think Aphrodite and Hephaestus's marriage is interesting and it is something I plan on doing something with. Hephaestus is another one of the few seemingly upstanding men in Greek mythology so I feel like he treats Aphrodite with respect and they find love between each other after some time, in their own way.

Something I always think about is Ares is such a good dad?? He's often depicted in statues with Eros and in war is almost always accompanied by Deimos and Phobos. like yes, spend quality time with your children, so cute <3 Also he supports his Amazon daughters. He unalives a man who assaulted his daughter and it pisses off Poseidon so bad that they INVENT court to put him on trial just for Ares to go "Yeah I did it, and I'd fuckin do it again" and gets acquitted

Back to my Ares design. I thought it would be interesting if his scars were transient, as in not really permanent scars but more like very slowly healing wounds filling with ichor. The only way he can scar permanently is if the injury is inflicted on him by another immortal...

Stole the glowy hair from Disney's Hercules because that shit is peak character design

I was not going to draw any helmets at first because... I didn't want to lol but I read that he like almost always had his helmet. Like he's showing up to fancy dinners carrying his helmet. So I was like okay fine have your emotional support helmet lol

His spear is a gift from Aphrodite, it has a little heart design engraved into it <3 I find Warlike Aphrodite VERY interesting and I like to imagine her having a surprisingly strong affinity for conflict

Personality wise, Ares tries to put up a tough guy "whatever. I don't care act" but he is actually very much a people pleaser and has a distinct desire to be accepted. He is keenly aware that he is not well liked among the gods nor the mortals. He is not the beloved, wise, tactical Athena. He is Bloodlust and Carnage, he is the ugliest sides of war. To most mortals he is a god to appease, not worship.

He loves his mother, and he is her favorite child. He has spent his life defending her, even as a child and even against his father. He is not well liked by his father, but this is typical of Zeus, who is paranoid that one of his sons will eventually continue the family's proclivity for patricide.

Anyways thank you for reading my essay. I will be making more Aphrodite/Ares content very soon. I hope you enjoy

[kikohao]

ᅠᅠᅠᅠ ⠀⠀⠀⋆˙. let me protect you instead

★ ㅤㅤpairing ; bf!jihoon x reader (student!jihoon x student!reader) ★ ㅤㅤsummary ; in which jihoon comes to save you when you're at your lowest ★ ㅤㅤthemes ; established relationship, fluff, comfort fic ★ ㅤㅤwarnings ; mentions of trauma, traumatic relationship with parents, reader cries, cursing ★ ㅤㅤword count ; 1.05k ★ ㅤㅤtaglist ; @nonononranghaee ★ ㅤㅤa/n ; i hate how there's literaly no jihoon fluff fics :( so decided to take matters in my own hands 🗣🗣 likes and reblogs are appreciated! &lt;3

We most certainly didn’t plan a movie night to be going about on such a horrible, pouring day. “Such luck,” you scoffed to yourself, positioning the pillows on the couch, placing the snacks on the small table Jihoon had bought for you when you first started living alone. It was a simple, yet elegant circular table that had such attractive engravings on it.

You didn’t particularly hate rainy days, just the thunder that came with it; that was the dreadful part.

Ding.

“I might be late today, got extra work at the studio. I’ll try to be there by ’15. Love you.”

I loud sigh escaped your mouth. You didn’t really care that he was going to be late; just the fact that he’s working overtime again – fourth time this week. But then again, it’s Jihoon, its not anything new to him. Moments like this take you back to your high school memories – when you first met Jihoon as a transfer student at your school.

You were walking home from school, after yet another long, exhausting day at cram school. Oh how you wanted to head home, grab a big cup of hot chocolate, and just sleep.

Deciding to grab some hot chocolate powder, you set foot in the convenience store by your house. Greeting the part-time worker who seemed to be about a year or two older than you, you make your way towards the appropriate section, getting a hold of a packet of the powder. “Wouldn’t hurt to get some marsh mellows I suppose..” You grinned.

You rush to get a spot at the queue to pay, leaving the store at that. Walking back, you spot a familiar student surrounded by a group of senior at your school. The first thought that came up in your head was just to ignore. Ignore them. Don’t get involved.

“Hey!” You yelled, most likely impulsively – earning confused stares from the the same seniors that were trying to bully the student. Oh, for fuck’s sake, here we go again.

You walk towards the boy, grabbing his wrist; you stand in front of him. In attempt to leave the place, you take a step ahead, just for the way to be blocked my one of the seniors. He wore a cap the wrong way around, trying to look “cool”. What a generation, you sighed.

“What do you think you’re doing? We were talking with him?” He started.

7:58 pm. Nah, I’ve got no time for this.

I ignored their comment and lead the student some place away from them, receiving absurd scoffs from them.

I turn to him, “Are you okay?” I ask him, ignoring my racing heart. Obviously, you didn’t think you’d get away with such a thing. You expected a fight or something like that; you planned on taking a run for it. His stare bore through you. “Don’t worry, they’re gone now.” You whispered to him, which was met with small sigh. “Was it relief?” you thought to yourself.

You walked with him for a while.

Silence.

Not one of us dared to utter a word.

Yeah, I’m not having this, you thought to yourself. “I’m Y/N,” you started in attempt to loosen the mood, hoping to start a conversation. “What’s your name?”

“Jihoon.” A small mumble. His voice was cute. This is when you actually looked up to him. The street lights helped along the way; you looked at him. He was charming. Charming in the cute sort of way. The way his round face appropriately fit with the rest of his features.

Did your heart just skip a beat?

“If those seniors ever bully you again, tell me. I’ll protect you!” You stood in front of him, hand on your chest as a sort of pledge, earning a small smile, later fading.

Guess you didn’t realize that he went from a stranger to someone who you couldn’t stop thinking about.

The rain started to beat down further, accompanied by the rumbling roars of the thunder. You were alarmed. You hated thunder storms. You hated them so fucking much.

It reminded you of terrifying memories. It reminded you of your parents. You thought it would stop re-appearing after you walked out of their lives. Guess it didn’t. Guess you’ll never forget how they made you feel.

You sat down, knees against your chest, your hands placed on your ears in attempt to block out the sounds. Tears welled up in my eyes. You hated how your anger turned into tears.

It felt like hell.

“Congratulations! You survived the war! Now, live with the trauma.” That. That’s it. It lingers, forever.

Another spur of tears raced forward, just to be stopped by someone.

Jihoon.

That was the end. You didn’t like being like this – especially in front of him. You were supposed to be the one protecting him. You didn’t want him to see you feel weak. You didn’t want him to see you at your worst.

It wasn’t sobs now, but tears. “It’s okay, It’s okay,” He soothed, rubbing circles onto my back, engulfing me into a hug. “Everything’s okay,”

But it wasn’t. Everything was ruined.

“Let me protect you instead, Y/N.”

That was when you knew – when you knew he was the one.

I was surrounded by a few students, maybe older than I?

“Hey! Aren’t you the new transfer student?” One spoke. I nodded.

“Do you want to join the new basketball team? We’re looking for more players from Class 11.” Another spoke. “Basketball?” I spoke out, receiving a nod from the seniors.

“Well,” I started, only to be cut off by a girl, rushing towards us.

“Hey!” Everyone from this school is actually insane, I thought. What I nearly didn’t expect at all was her to grab my wrist. She was talking for me. She was standing up for me.

Cute.

Never did I believe in fate. But there it was. A meeting of fate. I suppose I fell for her without even realizing I did.

And suddenly, all the love songs were about you.

[anonsturniolo]

never forget you — matt sturniolo

paring — matt sturniolo x zombie!femalereader

genre — sadish? sorry it was kinda rushed :/

word count — 3.2k

Matt shut his car door and decided to take a walk to clear his mind. The city's night air was cool and refreshing, carrying the faint scent of rain on the horizon. He wandered aimlessly, letting the sounds of the city envelop him—honking cars, distant laughter, and the occasional siren.

As he strolled down a quiet street, something unusual caught his attention. A figure moved gracefully under the dim glow of the streetlights. Curious, Matt approached cautiously. When he got closer, he couldn't believe his eyes. There she was, an actual zombie. He had never seen one since the outbreak started a few months ago, but he was pleasantly surprised. Her pale skin seemed to shimmer in the night, and her eyes, though lifeless, held an inexplicable allure.

"Hey," Matt called out softly, unsure if she could even understand him. "Are you... okay?"

The zombie turned to face him, her movements slow and deliberate. To his surprise, she nodded slightly.

"What's your name?" he asked, taking a tentative step closer.

She opened her mouth as if to speak, but no sound came out. Instead, she pointed to a locket around her neck. Matt leaned in to see the name engraved on it: "Y/N."

"Y/N," he repeated, smiling gently. "I'm Matt."

For a brief second, their eyes met, and he felt a strange connection, as if the world had paused just for them. He couldn't explain it, but in that moment, amidst the chaos of the city and the horror of her existence, they shared something uniquely beautiful.

Zombies had been around for the last 6 months, and they usually didn’t eat humans to Matt’s knowledge. So that explains why he just put Y/N in his front seat, deciding to take her back to the house he shared with his brothers.

“Are you cold?” Matt asked, instantly cursing himself for even asking. Of course she’s cold, her heart doesn’t even beat anymore. Matt switched on the heat anyways.

Y/N slowly moved her head to look at him, wishing she could speak so badly. She wanted to thank him for taking her wherever he was going. Being a zombie meant she wasn’t able to go anywhere or do anything.

The ride was spent in a comfortable silence, and with how quiet Y/N was, he nearly forgot she was there. He pulled his car into his driveway, killing the engine and sliding his keys into his pocket.

Matt shut the car door softly, glancing over at Y/N, the prettiest zombie he had seen. Her pale skin glowed under the moonlight, and her eyes, though vacant, held a mysterious allure. He took a deep breath, knowing his brothers, Nick and Chris, would be waiting inside.

As they walked up the driveway, Matt could feel Y/N’s cold hand in his. He squeezed it gently, offering a reassuring smile. "It's going to be okay," he whispered.

The front door creaked open, and Nick’s voice boomed from the living room. "Matt, is that you?"

Matt stepped inside, pulling Y/N gently behind him. "Yeah, it's me. And, uh, I brought someone."

Nick and Chris turned to look as the pair slowly made their way up the stairs. Chris, the younger of the two, immediately dropped the game controller he was holding. "Whoa, Matt, what the hell?"

Nick’s eyes narrowed, his protective instincts kicking in. "Who is she?" he demanded, stepping forward.

Matt raised a hand, trying to calm them. "Her name is Y/N. I found her... well, she found me, really."

Chris approached cautiously, his eyes wide with curiosity. "Is she... a zombie?"

She stood silently, her eyes darting between the brothers. Matt nodded. "Yeah, but she's different. She's not like the others. She's... she's special."

Matt and his brothers had only run into zombies one other time, and it was pretty horrifying. It was two men, in the final stages of their lives as zombies. They were very desperate to not die, and it left the three boys traumatized. 

Nick crossed his arms, skepticism etched on his face. "Special how, Matt? She's still a zombie."

Matt sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know how to explain it. I just know she needs our help. And she's not dangerous."

Chris moved closer to Y/N, his curiosity overcoming his fear. "She doesn't look dangerous," he said softly. "She looks... lost."

Y/N’s eyes met Chris's, and for a moment, there was a flicker of recognition. She took a step forward, reaching out a trembling hand. Chris hesitated but then took her hand gently. "Hi, Y/N," he said with a small smile.

Nick watched the interaction, his expression softening slightly. "Alright, Matt," he said finally. "But if she shows any signs of being a threat, she's out. Got it?"

Matt nodded gratefully. "Got it. Thanks, Nick."

As they settled into the living room, Matt couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. His brothers were wary, but they trusted him. And as he looked at Y/N, he knew he had made the right choice. There was something special about her, something worth protecting.

Y/N sat quietly on the couch, her eyes scanning the room. Matt sat beside her, his hand still holding hers for comfort. Nick and Chris watched her cautiously, unsure of what to expect.

Y/N took a deep breath, her voice trembling as she tried to form the words. "I... kn-know... you," she stammered, her words barely audible. It took everything in her to speak so she knew she needed to get it done as quickly as possible.

Nick leaned forward, his brow furrowed. "What do you mean, you know us?"

Y/N’s eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and determination. "Bef... before... I was... like this," she struggled, her voice cracking. "I... knew... you all. We... were... friends."

Chris's eyes widened in shock. "Friends? How is that possible?"

Y/N looked at Matt, her gaze pleading for him to understand. "Matt, you... you used to... come to the... park. You...brought your... brothers. I... was there... too." Soft grunts between her words as her throat constricted were leaving the boys hanging onto every word.

Matt's heart raced as he tried to piece together her words. "The park? You mean... the old playground?"

Y/N nodded slowly, her effort to speak evident. "Yes. We... played... together. You... were always... kind to me."

Nick shook his head in disbelief. "This is crazy. How can you remember that? How did you even get all the way to LA?” 

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears, her voice barely above a whisper. "I... don't know. But... I remember... you all. And... I remember... the day... everything... changed."

Chris's voice was gentle as he asked, "What happened, Y/N?"

She took a deep breath, her voice strained. "There was... an accident. I... got hurt. And then... everything... went dark. When I... woke up, I was... like this."

Matt squeezed her hand, his heart aching for her. "Y/N, I'm so sorry. We didn't know."

Y/N looked at each of them, her eyes filled with a mix of hope and fear. "I just... want you to... know... I'm still... me. I'm... still the same... girl you... knew. Please... don't be... afraid of me."

Nick's expression softened, his skepticism melting away. "We're not afraid, Y/N. We're just... trying to understand."

Chris reached out and took her other hand, his eyes filled with compassion. "We'll figure this out together. You're not alone."

As Matt listened to her, a memory flashed in his mind. A little girl with bright eyes and a shy smile. His elementary school crush. "Y/N... were you the girl who used to sit under the big oak tree?"

Y/N's eyes widened slightly, a faint smile forming on her lips. "Yes... that was... me."

Matt's heart skipped a beat. "I remember you. You were my first crush."

Y/N’s smile grew, despite her struggle to speak. "And you... were mine."

Matt felt a wave of emotions crash over him. The girl he had once adored was now sitting beside him, transformed but still the same at heart. "We'll get through this, Y/N. I promise."

Y/N nodded, her eyes shimmering with hope. "Thank you... Matt."

The following months Y/N and Matt created a bond that was hard to explain. They knew each other as kids, but when getting to know each other as adults, was something way more. They spent countless nights getting to know each other, with Matt doing most of the talking. 

Which led them to now, cuddled up in Matt’s bed with the heat set to high. Y/N’s cold skin pressed up against Matt, keeping him cool despite the heat surrounding them. Y/N was always cold so this was the best way for them to both get what they want. 

“Did you like the movie?” Matt whispered into her ear, making her eyes flicker from the screen to his face. They had just finished Warm Bodies, one of the few zombie movies Matt could actually watch. 

Y/N had never felt so seen with this movie, as R’s experience was pretty similar to hers. She realized she was falling in love with Matt, if zombies were even capable of that at least. Y/N shuffled in bed, lifting a hand to tap the back of Matt’s hand twice. A little movement they had come up with for her to answer a question with yes. 

“Good.” He placed a kiss on the top of her head before he flicked the Tv off and shuffled so he was laying flat on his back. Y/N was on her side now, facing him. Admiring his beauty with the little light that peeked through the crack of his bedroom door. Matt could feel her eyes on him, and frowned as the blush crept across his cheeks. 

He’d never get to see Y/N blushing because of him. 

“..M-Matt…?” Y/N softly spoke, making him shuffle in the bed to face her. 

“Hm?” He hummed, lifting a hand to tuck her hair behind her hair. 

Y/N paused, unsure of herself now. She didn’t know if he would get scared off if she confessed how she felt, but she knew her time left on earth was just a matter of time. 

“I…” She exhaled sharply, feeling nervous for the first time in forever, “...Love….you.” She watched Matt’s reaction closely, the way his eyebrows rose then fell, his eyes quickly moving to different parts of her face. 

A smile finally broke out on his lips, his hands reaching to tug her closer, “I love you.” He whispered, the hot air fanning across Y/N’s lips. Matt leaned in closer, slotting his lips over hers. Y/N kissed him back weakly, her body not reacting like it used too throwing her off guard. 

She imagined her body would’ve flooded with warmth, her stomach bustling with butterflies. But now? Now all she got was the warm feeling of his lips against hers. Matt slowly pulled away with a goofy smile on his face. 

“Goodnight baby. I love you.” He grinned, placing another quick kiss to Y/N’s lips before he let his eyes flutter closed. Y/N laid there for hours, watching him sleep as countless tears fell down her cheeks.

This wasn’t fair. She never asked for this, so why did it happen? Why her? Y/N slowly struggled to get out of the bed, trying her best to not wake up Matt. She takes big steps in order to limit the amount of heavy footsteps against his floor, and carefully shuts the door behind her as she left the room. 

Y/N knew there was no cure for zombies, as it was such a new experience for everyone. A zombie's typical lifespan hadn’t even been decided yet, and she was already a couple months in. What used to be her beating heart felt heavy in her chest, unsure on if she should stay or go.

She didn’t want to be the reason she broke these boys, specifically Matt, if she ended up dying here.

Walking into the kitchen, she sees the whiteboard on the fridge clear of anything important, and picks up the marker laying on the counter just next to it. 

I’m sorry. For your own good.

She wrote the best she could, but she didn’t have the best control over her hands anymore. It was like her joints were freezing up, nearly locking them in place. She takes one last glance across the kitchen and living room, trying to memorize it the best she can. 

Y/N slowly made her way down the stairs to the front door, trying to stay as quiet as possible to not alert anyone she was leaving. She knew they wouldn’t let her. She walked into the night, feeling as empty and hollow as ever. 

“Matt?” A voice called to him, causing him to stir in his sleep. His arm lazily moved in search of Y/N, and his eyes were flying open when she wasn’t there. 

“Where's Y/n?” He asked, sitting up in bed and rubbing his eyes. Once his vision was restored, he saw a rather worried looking Nick, standing in his doorway. 

Nick’s frown deepens, “She left, Matt.” He speaks softly, knowing this was going to crush his brother. Matt shoots out of bed and begins to search the house, coming into the kitchen and freezing at the messy handwriting on the board. 

“Oh shit, I didn’t even see that…” He heard Chris mutter from behind him. 

Matt sank to his knees, the weight of his emotions crashing down on him. He buried his face in his hands, tears streaming down his cheeks. The world around him seemed to blur, the sounds of the city fading into the background.

"Y/N..." he whispered, his voice breaking. He felt crushed, like a part of him had been ripped away. The thought of her facing the unknown alone was too much to bear.

Every moment they had shared played in his mind, each memory a painful reminder of what he had lost. He couldn't shake the image of her face when she said I love you, the loving look in her eyes as she smiled at him. It was like a nightmare he couldn't wake up from.

Matt clenched his fists, the anger and frustration bubbling up inside him. He hated himself for not noticing she was going to leave. But deep down, he knew it was what she needed. He just wished it didn't hurt so much.

As the night grew darker, Matt remained there, feeling utterly alone. The city continued to move around him, but his world had come to a standstill. And in that moment, he realized just how much he needed her, how empty his life would be without her. 

“I’m going to go look for her.” Matt suddenly announced, standing up from his chair in the kitchen. Nick and Chris were sitting in the living room, and they both shared a look before standing up as well. 

“We’ll come too.” Chris spoke for himself and his brother, all three of them wordlessly getting in the car. Matt drives straight to where him and Y/N met all those months ago. He slows his car down as he drives up and down the streets, his eyes darting around to try and spot any sign of Y/N being there. 

“Oh my god…” Nick gasps from the backseat, a soft smack echoing around the silent car due to him slapping his own hand over his mouth. 

“What Nick?” Matt spits out harshly, checking for a car behind him before slamming on the breaks. 

Chris lets out a half scream, “Jesus, Matt! That fucking hurt you douche bag.” He glares over at his brother, rubbing his now throbbing collarbone. 

Nick shakes his head, “Pull over.” He tells Matt who surprisingly listens. Nick wants to tease him about it but decides now’s not the time for it. Once the car is in park, Nick steps out immediately, Matt and Chris following suit. 

“If you don’t start talking, things are about to get violent.” Matt warned Nick, as Nick led the way towards the corner of the street they were on. Matt’s eyes darted around just in time to see a limp body resting on the streetlight. 

“Y/N?!” He yells, his heart pounding in his chest as he darts towards the streetlight. Once he’s close enough, it was like his heart stopped completely. It was Y/N. 

“Matt..” Chris trailed off softly behind him, as Matt roughly fell to his knees. Y/N’s eyes were open, but not blinking. With her not having a heartbeat, it could only mean one thing. 

Y/N was dead. 

Her skin had started to peel off, exposing her bones to the harsh weather around her. Her fingertips were a deep purple, her lips a hue of blue. 

“Y/N…” He whispered, his voice breaking as tears streamed down his face. He gently grabbed her hand, her coldness feeling the same as he remembered despite her current condition. 

The reality of her being gone hit him like a truck, sob after sob raking through his body. A deep growing ache was consuming him, gnawing away at his sanity. 

Nick and Chris watched on as Matt clutched onto Y/N’s lifeless body, worry displayed on their faces. 

“Matt, we should go.” Nick murmured, his voice thick with emotion. 

“No! We can’t leave her!” Matt cried pathetically, his grip tightening around Y/N’s hand. He could feel the bones breath underneath his grip, causing his sobs to become even harsher. 

Chris knelt beside him, “Matt, please. We need to get you out of here.” He softly encouraged, his eyes filled with sorrow. 

Reluctantly, Matt allowed them to tear him away from Y/N’s body. His legs barely supporting his own weight as his vision grew blurry. He glanced back at Y/N one last time, her lifeless body seared into his mind. As they moved further away, a hollow emptiness settled into his chest, leaving part of his heart on that street corner. 

He decided from that day on, he would never be who he once was. 

authors note — sorry I kinda rushed this to post on the 1st, life has been kinda crazy for me. hope yall enjoyed! <3

[pikahlua]

Fourteen Days of MHA: Day 1

Home

WARNING: Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood spoilers (seasons 1 and 2)

You: Huh!?!?!?!?

Oh yeah, it's time for a little mini-meta.

Okay, well, we're not going to get into the ENDING yet, but there's actually a lot going on in MHA that looks eerily familiar if you're an FMA fan. MHA itself is in many ways a referential work, and I don't think all of these parallels are coincidences (though surely some are).

Let's talk about the symbolism of the home.

My Hero Academia has three major examples of "home" that it highlights as symbols: those of the villains Tomura Shigaraki, Himiko Toga, and Touya Todoroki. The villains view their homes as symbols of oppression and pain. We know the home is seen as the image of all that oppression based on how various characters treat the houses themselves.

When Touya returned home after his miraculous survival, he found the home hadn't changed as a result of his death. The "scene" there always looks the same.

And when Endeavor tries to atone, Endeavor acknowledges that the "house" he raised his children in is full of bad memories to the extent that he decides to build his family a new home where they can live without him.

Touya's opportunity to demonstrate his feelings about his home arises with Himiko Toga. She returns to her abandoned childhood home out of curiosity and finds it full of hatred and derision, symbolizing her experiences there.

Touya does her a "kindness" by destroying the house.

Then he reveals that doing so, to him, is a way to get back at Endeavor--at the man who created Touya's own broken childhood home.

This scene in particular evokes the famous imagery of Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood of the Elric Brothers burning down their own childhood home.

The act of destroying their own home is so important to them that Edward chooses to commemorate the date by engraving it inside his pocketwatch, "Don't Forget 3.Oct.11." To the brothers, this act is a symbol of their resolve--of their chosen path to atone for their sins and restore their bodies. There can be no going back home if there is no home to return to.

In other words, the purposeful destruction of one's home represents a threshold, a point of no return. By destroying their homes, the villains of MHA demonstrate their conviction for the paths they've chosen.

The problem is, there's another reason one might destroy their own home.

To run away. To hide. To forget.

Why does Himiko call Touya's act of destruction a kindness, even if Touya denies it? Because he has destroyed the largest reminder of the pain of her childhood.

The League of Villains seek to destroy the world because they were rejected by the world and wish to reject it back. Those homes were the world to them at one point, when they were children. To them, the world is just an extension of the suffering they experienced.

Tomura wants to destroy the world to justify his existence as a destroyer, but in reality he doesn't want to face the fact that he killed his family by accident.

The tragedy of his childhood was so traumatic he repressed the memory and only found his concrete motivation to destroy the world once he remembered his past in Deika City. As soon as he remembers that house, he wishes to destroy it again. It's already been destroyed, but the memory of it continues to hurt him long after. By destroying the world, maybe he can forget it again. Maybe the pain will make sense and he won't have to think about it anymore. Maybe he'll stop being a crying child deep down.

The villains seek to destroy their own origins, which is by nature a self-destructive cause. Paradoxically, they will end up destroyed in the end no matter if they succeed or fail in their goals. Either the world will be destroyed and they along with it, or they will die trying.

To save Tenko's heart, Izuku has to bring that memory of the house to the surface. He has to recontextualize it to validate Tenko as he is.

And the recontexualization is All For One.

By contextualizing Tenko's life as a product of All For One's machinations, it gives Tomura a new reason to destroy that memory and that house: to destroy All For One.

And with that comes a new justification for Tomura's existence.

The destruction of All For One.

[rafyki]

Goth! Nico/ Surfer! Percy AU Part 8!

Hi, sorry for the wait!! I was a little in doubt about if making this chapter in Percy's or Nico's POV, tbh, but in the end I decided that we're back to Percy! I always enjoy writing him being all smitten and in love <33

Enjoy~

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

You can also read it on AO3!!

~~~~

Percy had been looking at his phone for what felt like hours, staring at the empty message box and the name written on top, trying to find something, anything, to write that wouldn't sound extremely lame.

He knew his friends were looking at him, probably thinking he was the most ridiculous lovesick fool they had ever seen - which was fair, honestly, because Percy did feel like he was one second away from screaming into the void and starting to roll around on the cafe’s floor. 

So, yes, he was a lovesick fool - but a lovesick fool with his crush's number now safely saved into his phone.

Crush.

It had been two days since his meeting with Nico at the beach, and for the whole time Percy had felt like the word wasn't right, wasn't nearly heavy enough to embrace the way he felt. When he had told Annabeth, she had looked at him and smiled.

“I can see that, Percy, but you do realize you barely know him, don't you?”

It was true, of course it was - yet it didn't matter.

Percy could still feel the warmth of Nico's hand in his like it was engraved on his skin. The need to hold it again was almost overwhelming, Percy could feel himself going crazy for it.

They had held hands, and it had felt like Nico hadn't wanted to let go either, that he had wanted to make the contact last as long as possible just like Percy had.

Percy wanted to text him. But what do you even write to the guy who's been haunting your mind for the past few months and who you aren't exactly friends with but at the same time it feels like you're so much more?

“Hi, it's Percy, how are you?” 

Yeah, no, that was lame. 

“Hey, would you like to go on a date with me?”

Too forward, definitely not.

Percy groaned, frustrated.

“I swear to god, Jackson, if you don't stop staring at that phone right now, I'm gonna kick you out of this place”.

Thalia's voice pulled him violently out of his thoughts.

“This is a public space, Thalia, you can't kick me out”, he replied without even looking at her.

“Oh yeah, watch me”.

Percy only looked up at her when a kick did actually hit his legs under the table.

“Ehi!”

Thalia smirked down at him. “Told ya”, she said. “I can't believe I only come here like two times a year - and when I do, you're too busy to look at your phone to actually talk to me? That's low, Jackson”.

Percy rolled his eyes, but the pull in his guts let him know that he did feel guilty. He sighed and finally put his phone down, straightening himself and going back to sip his coffee. Not that he would apologize to Thalia, but he could admit to himself that she was right; and after all, if he put aside for a moment his current concern, he really was happy to see her. It had been months since the last time they had the chance to hang out together like this.

“Don't mind him, Thalia”, Annabeth jumped in. “He just got his dream boy's number! And now he's trying to figure out what to write to him”.

She said it like it was ridiculous, but Percy remembered how happy she had been for him when he had told her about the events of two days ago, so he didn't take it to heart.

“His what!?”, Thalia almost screamed, accompanying every word with a painful slap on Percy's shoulder. “Why don't I know anything about this! How could you guys not tell me, come on!”

He swatted her hand away. “Ouch, ow, ow, okay, alright!”

“I can't believe this! I can't even remember the last time you had a crush”.

“Yeah, well”, Percy said, and lowered his eyes. “Doesn't really feel like a crush, anymore”. 

“Oh woah, then it must be serious”, she said. “Come on, tell me everything”.

And so he told her - told her about the first time he saw the pretty goth boy working at the beach kiosk, about how long he had spent just looking at him. Trying to leave out the most embarrassing parts was no use because of course Annabeth had to jump in to point out how ridiculous he had been the whole time and how much he had panicked to just go and talk to him to buy something, and obviously she couldn't leave out his plan to impress Nico with his fantastic surfing moves.

“Annabeth, stop making me look like a loser!”

“I'm not making you look like a loser, Seaweed brain, I’m just telling the truth!”.

Percy kept talking, and he kept thinking about Nico, and he knew that he had the most enamored smile painted on his lips as he spoke. He talked and he couldn't stop because, god, he did love to talk about him.

They had only seen each other the previous day and Percy missed him already. He definitely needed to find the courage to text him - perhaps he didn't need to think too much about it, maybe a simple hey how are you would do, after all.

He wondered if Nico was doing the same, looking at his phone and trying to find something to write to him, or maybe waiting and hoping for a text to arrive.

He was so focused on recounting everything that he didn't notice the way Thalia's expression went from curious to surprised, then to confused, and finally to pensive.

“Wait, what did you say this guy's name is?”

Percy stopped in his rambling. “Nico, his name’s Nico”, he said, and finally noticed how Thalia seemed to be deep in thought. “What’s that face?”

It took a moment for her to reply. “Nico as in… Nico Di Angelo?”

Percy stopped and looked at her like she had grown a second head. “What?”

Next to him, he heard Annabeth’s voice echoing the same sentiment.

“What are you talking about?”

“Goth boy, shortie, long hair and lots of piercings, doesn’t seem like he own anything but black clothes, looks like he doesn’t know how to smile-”

“Hey, I’ll let you know that he has the prettiest smile you could ever imagine!”

Thalia waved him off at the same time that Annabeth said “Yes that does sound exactly like him”.

“And he works at the beach kiosk with a blond guy?”

A long moment of silence passed during which Percy kept staring at Thalia as her words kept swarming around in his head, blinking at her trying to process what she had just said. 

It couldn’t be, could it?

“You know him!?”

Percy could feel his heart run around in his chest, pumping blood loudly in his ears.

That felt so much like fate. 

“Huh, kind of?”, Thalia said. “I saw him a couple of times when I went to visit my brother”.

“Your brother?”, Annabeth asked.

Thalia nodded, smiling. “The blond guy working at the kiosk. That’s my brother, Jason”.

Another moment of silence passed before Percy finally came to his senses. “What the hell, why didn’t you tell us!”

This time, it was his turn to swat Thalia’s arm over and over. She hit back with just as much strength.

“Ow, why would I tell you! I didn’t even know you guys went to that beach - see, your fault you don’t tell me anything!”

Percy could feel Annabeth rolling her eyes at their antics.

But he had more pressing things to think about. He couldn’t believe it- really? 

It was so stupid, feeling giddy for something like this, but Percy couldn’t help the smile that rose to his lips. They were connected.

You’re so ridiculous, Percy Jackson, so ridiculous, he told himself, as his heart danced in his chest.

“Nico Di Angelo”, he murmured to himself. 

He knew his friends were looking at him ready to laugh at him. He looked at Annabeth. “See? I told you he must be an angel!”

They did laugh at him at that, and Percy felt so light he joined them. 

“You really are so ridiculous, Seaweed Brain”.

“Hey, can’t a man be a little in love?”

They stopped in their laughter to stare at him, and it took Percy a moment to realize what he had said. He felt himself blush - he hadn’t even admitted it to himself yet, yet the words had felt way too natural on his tongue, leaving his lips without him even thinking about it.

“Percy….”

“I know”, he cut her off, looking away. For some reason, his hand felt warm. “I know, I don’t know him all that well and it’s too soon. But… that’s why I said a little”.

“So you like him for real, huh?”. Thalia asked. The look in her eyes was earnest in a way that Percy wasn’t very used to. He and Thalia had been friends for a long time now, but it wasn’t often that they ended up talking seriously to each other.

Percy nodded. He really didn’t think he had ever liked anyone like he liked Nico before.

“Now, I don’t know him too well”, Thalia said. “But Jason told me once that it took him a pretty long time to get close to him ‘cause Nico isn’t an easy person - so, from what I know and from what you told me, I can say that you are an exception to this rule”.

Percy’s heart was running miles.

He thought about Nico so easily talking to him, smiling at him, thought of him asking about him out of worry, of him taking his hand and getting in the ocean with him despite his fear of it.

“I can ask Jason about him, if you want. But”, Thalia continued, pointing a finger at him. “You better text him - today”.

~~

When he went home that evening, the phone felt heavy in his head.

He would see Nico tomorrow anyway, he didn’t have to text him, he could easily wait until he could talk to him face to face. Or he could simply wait until tomorro’s evening and see if Nico would be at the beach after his shift again. He could.

It didn’t feel like the right thing to do. It felt like the coward way out, the one that wouldn’t lead to anything more.

And so, before he could think too much about it, he pressed send.

Me: Ehi, Nico! You have the afternoon shift tomorrow, right? Let’s hang out at the beach again after it?

[04mxfutbol]

Reality (Christen Press x Reader)

A/N: Pretty sure you can hear my heart break at some point in the fic (:

You and Christen became friends through soccer in middle school. A time when you start beginning to explore the world a little more, you get curious about many things.

You remember those days perfectly, completely engraved in your memory, and if you were to close your eyes you could practically see those memories and replay them, which you do to this day.

Closing your eyes to remember it all.

Seventh grade, that’s when you both met.

“Are you Y/N?” Christen asks you on the first day of practice. You’re startled as you put your cleats on, you look up and see a girl with green eyes and curly hair.

“Yeah.” You say nodding your head, confused on how she knew you.

“Cool nice to finally meet you. I think we have History together?” Christen says with a smile. “You sit behind me.”

“Yeah. We do.” You say shyly. “And yes I sit right behind you.”

“You’re really shy.” Christen says and you look down. “Come on, me and you, let’s go warm up together.”

Christen ran towards the field, leaving her group of friends behind, turning back and looking at you, waiting for you.

“You coming or not?” Christen says and you run towards her. “You’re slow.”

You stay silent and look at her. She intimidated you. Her eyes beautiful but sometimes you felt like they could see right through you.

“I’ll nickname you turtle, for being slow.” Christen says and you let out a laugh. “And she laughs.”

Neither of you didn’t know why but you both just clicked, like if you two were the last two missing pieces of a puzzle. It felt like you both knew each other forever.

A beautiful friendship that grew over many months. A bond that grew, tying you both to each other.

A year into the friendship you started to feel things you didn’t completely understand. Walking to Christen you looked at how she was talking to her friends, hands in your pockets as you approached her.

“Can we talk?” You whisper to Christen and she nods.

“What’s up?”

“I think.. I like you.” You whisper.

“You like me?” Christen asks and you nod your head. “Y/N..”

“I know it’s weird and maybe I don’t really understand what I’m feeling but you’re different.”

“Y/N I don’t feel the same way.” Christen says, you’re actually not hurt but you’re confused.

What the hell were you feeling then?

“I don’t want this to ruin our friendship.” You say and Christen grabs your arm.

“It won’t I promise. It’s me and you forever. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Like nothing happened, you moved on. Like if you didn’t just maybe confess your love to her. Your mind was racing and you were definitely just a big confused.

Fortunately Christen was right, nothing changed in your friendship. It was still you two doing everything together. Absolutely everything.

“Wait up for me.” You shout as you run towards Christen and her neighbor. “Mind if I walk with you?”

“You live on the other side Y/N. You’ll be getting home late.” Christen says and you shrug it off.

“I wanna walk you home, you know make sure you get home safe.” You say and Christen sighs, looking at you worryingly. “Come on you know I always try to walk you home when I can of course.”

“Okay but let me carry your books, I want to look smart too you know.” Christen says snatching your Algebra books from you. “You’re not the only smart one here, I’m smart.”

“She’s not that smart.” Christen’s neighbor says and you laugh.

“Rude.” Christen says as you all begin to walk towards Christen’s street. “Come on turtle we both know you’re slow.”

“Turtle?” Christen’s neighbor asks.

“It’s my nickname for Y/N. Gave it to her when we met.” Christen says as you continue to walk. Christen turns to look at you while you’re looking around seeing the houses on the street. Her neighbor watching you both from the side, a small smirk on their face as she watched what was being unfolded.

“Huh. Okay.”

Nothing changed. It never did.

You held her hand when you were anxious, she made sure to give it three squeezes. It made you feel safe, secure. It was almost like she was home when being away from home.

“You’re okay. It’s me and you forever.” Christen says and you nod.

“Me and you forever.”

Years passed, high school came along, you both still being the best of friends. Closer than ever.

“Hey, you and me, carnival for the Fourth of July?” Christen asks as she sits next to you during lunch. “This weekend.”

You had no idea how Christen, being so popular became friends with you in seventh grade. It hit you sometimes that Christen was very popular in school, she always had been, you on the other hand well weren’t as much.

With so many friends Christen always made sure you were the most important to her. Or at least tried. She tried, but sometimes she failed but you wouldn’t tell her that because you knew that there was always someone else that would come before you even if Christen said otherwise.

“Sure yeah I just gotta ask but yeah I’ll go.” You say as you take a bite of what seemed to be some type of chicken.

“It’s tradition! We always go to the carnival on the Fourth of July together. It can’t be different this year.” Christen says and you laugh.

“I’m sure my parents will let me go just like they have been for the past couple of years.”

“Great! So how have classes been?” Christen asks.

“Pre calc has been kicking my ass. Like literally, I got hit in the ass the other day by a book because someone decided to get angry at the book where we learn our material from and I was walking by. The book went flying straight to my ass.”

“Oof. Rough. Is it that bad? Let me check.”

“Yes because I’m going to let you check my ass. No. So what about you, how are classes going?” You ask Christen as you play with your food.

“Foreign language, that’s the class that has been kicking my ass. I can barely get a C on any quizzes.”

“You need to study Chris, you’re trying to get into Stanford.” You say looking at Christen.

“So are you.”

“Yeah but it’s kind of your dream go get into Stanford.”

“Then help me study. Here are my notecards for this weeks quiz.” Christen says and your eyes widen as you set your fork down.

“Oh you mean now? Okay.”

“What up lovebirds.” You look up to see a friend of both of yours.

“For the last time we are not dating. I don’t understand why this keeps happening.” Christen says with a sigh. “We’re best friends, nothing more.”

“I’m not looking for trouble I’m just here to see if you guys are going to the carnival. Most important if my beloved Y/N would go with me.”

“We are are going, together.” Christen says. “As always. Me and Y/N.”

“And you ask why it keeps happening.”

It was true, people constantly thought you two were dating. But you were well aware Christen was straight you learned that years ago. Yet nothing changed. You two were still the best of friends.

The day came when you were both opening acceptance letters. Christen got into Stanford and while you did too, you decided to head to University of California, Berkeley. You wanted a little change.

But also wanting to get rid of the feelings that had resurfaced senior year. Meaning being away from Christen for some time.

College was different and absolutely terrifying for the first couple of weeks. Trying to find your classes and also waking up for practice. A huge adjustment. All of that without Christen, who usually helped you out was something you weren’t prepared for.

There you met Alex. You and Alex also began a beautiful friendship.

Christen found out about you and Alex, not that you two were dating because you weren’t, but just that Alex seemed to have been very important to you. And although she wasn’t going to tell you, she wasn’t very fond of whatever was happening.

Christen always had a problem with people being very touchy with you or getting close to you. It made you wonder why she would act the way she did. You just never understood her behavior sometimes.

Your friendship went from smooth to very rocky in a blink of an eye and you didn’t know what was going on but you held onto Alex, she helped you through it all.

One weekend you decided to go to a basketball game with Alex. What you didn’t know was everything was about to change.

You walked into the gymnasium where the players were warming up. You and Alex walked inside to find some of your other friends. Alex holding your hand as she learned that you were quick to get anxious. You finally found your friends sitting on the home team side of the gym.

“Ah you made it! Good to see you guys here.”

“Well we weren’t going to miss it.” Alex says.

You looked at the players running, resting your head on Alex’s shoulder. You hear a laugh and turn your head. There she was, Christen. With her boyfriend. Sitting behind you and Alex. Of all places, of all seats, sitting behind you.

“Hey don’t pay any attention to her. It’s me and you right here. Just us.” Alex says turning her head and looking at you, placing her hand on top of yours. “Me and you.”

“Me and you.” You whisper nodding your head.

“I will say she does not look happy to see me.” Alex whispers as she discreetly looks back. “Does she always look at people like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like she wants me dead.” Alex says and you laugh.

“No.”

“Then she does not look happy to see that I’m with you.”

“I’ll talk to her later.”

“I wouldn’t.”

You should’ve listened to Alex. You talked to Christen later that night and Christen didn’t like it one bit. To this day you still don’t understand why she was so upset, so upset she decided being friends wasn’t the best idea.

So while you remember the memories you had with Christen when closing your eyes, you had to open them.

You opened your eyes to reality.

- - - -

“Hey you okay?” Alex asks and you nod, stretching your arms and legs.

“Yeah. Better.” You say with a smile.

“Well come on it’s our second national team camp and it starts as soon as we get off this plane and to the hotel.” Alex say nudging you.

“You have too much energy.”

“I’m surprised you don’t, you just took a long nap. But seriously come on they’re probably waiting for us already. Come on we’re not rookies anymore we’re vets.”

“I can’t believe we even graduated college. Also I wouldn’t even consider us close to being vets, give it like four more years if we even make it.”

“I mean I can believe you did, I’m just still surprised to this day that I did.” Alex says making you laugh. “We’re getting new people this camp so I’d say we’re not new rookies.”

“Sure. It’s camp time!” You shout.

National team camp, meant seeing a face you haven’t really seeing much other than games. It meant seeing Christen. Christen got called up for the first time. You were happy for her, truly but also it was just your luck.

Walking into the hotel you were met with the rest of the team.

“I’m scared.” You whisper to Alex.

“It’s okay, I’m right here. It’s me and you Y/N. Me and you.” Alex whispers as you both walk in hand in hand.

You knew you couldn’t have her, you never could. It was something you had to accept. You just couldn’t though, it was too hard, it has just been too hard.

So you closed your eyes and breathed in then breathed out. You were safe with Alex. Safe with Alex. Home with Alex.

“Hey.”

You open your eyes again, only to see green eyes looking at you. In a blink of an eye all of the memories flashed right before your eyes. You froze.

You opened your eyes to reality.

You were looking straight at Christen for the first time in so long. You knew you couldn’t have Christen you knew you would never be able to have her love you like you loved her. You always knew that.

You closed your eyes trying to remember all the beautiful memories you had both shared together. But knowing she was right in front of you, you forced your eyes open and there it was right in front of you. Here it was now. The one thing you always wanted to ignore and never have to face, what you always wanted to avoid.

You were facing reality.

[lilyrizzy]

sorry to post so much everyone, promise i will resume to writing fic only like, once every three months after this lol

“That is a very nice watch, Max.”

It’s Victoria who is the first to notice it, the two of them sat out on his and Daniel’s balcony, the August evening warm. Between them are two empty bottles of wine and a quarter full bottle of gin. Inside, her babies are sleeping on the pull out beds, and Daniel has taken Tom into their ‘hobby room’, where Max’s sim lives also, to show him the newest addition to his camera collection. Apparently the one Tom had been using to document their children as they grow died a smoky death last week, losing all the photos of baby Lio in the process.

“Daniel got it for me,” is all he says, glancing down at his wrist.

It’s Tag Heuer of course, because Max has to wear those kind with the sponsorship rules, but this one is much nicer than the big flashy ones he usually gets for free. More you, Maxy, Daniel had explained nervously when Max opened the box to see it for the first time. A classic, smooth black leather strap instead of the usual shiny silver metal, the face a little smaller, round. In the middle, where the two hands of the clock meet, a tiny little diamond that you can only see if you look close enough, like a secret. The real secret is, of course, the inscription on the back, the engraved cursive words, for my world champion.

It’s so lovely. Max hates it a little bit.

Victoria lets out a laugh that bounces loudly through the too-still night air.

“Oh no,” she says, voice teasing. “You do not like it?” When he looks up from where he’s been staring at it, her eyebrows are raised.

Max has had maybe a little too much to drink, if he’s letting his complicated feeling about the watch show on his face, but it is the summer break of course, so it’s okay, and this is his sister. Maybe he can tell her what he is sometimes too afraid to think about on his own.

“I like it,” he insists, “but-“

“Max it is okay,” she says with another laugh, her cheeks bright pink from the wine she has drunk. She says it like she is trying to help him by telling him how he feels. “Sometimes they do not always get these things right, yes? The nice thing is that they try.”

But that isn’t it. This isn’t like the time Tom brought Victoria a pair of shoes for her birthday and she had telephoned Max to ask unhappily, “do I look like the type of person who would wear Michael Kors,” like Max was supposed to know who that was. Daniel is good at presents. He is very good at making Max happy.

“I do like it,” he tries again, a little defensive now on Daniel’s behalf. His words slur together a little, and without realising it, he’s switched back to Dutch. “It is lovely, I- It even has something written just for me on the other side, so of course it is special, I just- I thought-“

He thinks back to that night, two weeks ago now, the first of summer break that they got to be alone together. The first of their break, five nights to spend in some outrageously flashy Ibiza villa that Daniel booked, 120 hours stretching out in front of them, almost too sweet like toffee.

By the pool, laughing together, as they twirled pasta around their forks. Daniel had made it for Max, one of his ‘sabbatical projects’, to get better at cooking. That way you can hire me as your chef Maxy, if I don’t get a seat, yeah? It was so nice because the rich tomato sauce almost tasted the same as Max’s favourite kind of soup, and when Max had told Daniel that his face had gone all soft the way Max loved to see it, like he’d said all the right words in the right order.

“I’ve got something for you actually,” Daniel had said then, and he’d leaned in to press a kiss to the corner of Max’s mouth before getting from his chair to go and get his present.

When he’d come back with a black box and a shy, nervous smile on his face, Max’s heart had fluttered like there was a bird inside his chest, beating it’s wings against his ribcage. Daniel wanted to-

But then it had been a watch.

Looking at Victoria now, he can feel the wonky line his attempt of a smile makes of his mouth.

“For a moment, when he gave it to me,” he explains, thumbing over the smooth glass of the watch face, “I thought it was- I thought, maybe, a different kind of jewelry.”

It takes a few seconds for realisation to spread across his sisters features, but when it does it doesn’t make him feel any better the way he’d hoped it would to share this.

“Oh Max,” she says, reaching for his hand across the table, and he wants to recoil at her pity, “I did not- I did not even know that was something you wanted.”

Which to Max, seems like a silly thing to say, because of course it’s what he wants. He and Daniel have been together for so many years now, why would he not? It’s what you do when you love each other and want to be together always. He’d thought, maybe, now Daniel was happy again and not racing, but-

“Maybe it is not what Daniel wants,” he says with a shrug, but just saying the words out loud make his eyes sting and his throat ache. He is probably just too drunk for this conversation.

Victoria hums, like she is thinking. Over the balcony, Max can see the shimmer of the moon bouncing off the sea. His face feels so hot suddenly, like he is melting, and he imagines diving into the cool water.

“Have you two ever spoken about this?” Victoria asks, and Max just shakes his head, not looking at her. “Then how can- How can you know he does not want to? Why- You could always ask him too, you know.”

She’s right, of course. It’s just- Max doesn’t know how to explain it. That he wants it to be simple, for Daniel to want Max so much that he can’t stand to not ask him. That Max is afraid if he is the one to ask, Daniel will say yes just because he wants to give Max what he wants, and not because he wants Max.

Behind him, he hears laughter, the sound of footsteps, and Victoria’s face looks up, worried, to the sliding glass door behind him. It opens. Max wipes his eyes quickly, feeling even more foolish than before as Daniel runs a hand through his hair, presses his cheek into the top of his head, just as drunk as the rest of them and asks, “what are you two gossiping about then?”

[leviscxmkitten]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ SANDBOX LOVE [CHAPTER 2] ⋆⭒˚.⋆

Summary:

“I’ll come back for you.” Levi had promised, with a pinky wrapped around her own, and then his lips pressed against hers in a hasty kiss. It wasn’t their first but it was different, this time felt real.

His uncle pulled him away, and he was gone. The air was thick and heavy without him but his last words left her with a sliver of comfort, the feeling of his lips lingered like a second skin. The seemingly unfriendly little boy she had met and grown with, the first boy she loved - she watched him peddle away with misty eyes. That was her first heartbreak, the one she never saw coming.

He didn’t keep his promise.

It’s been 11 years since childhood best friends Levi and Azalea last saw each other. Now college students, what were the odds of them reuniting? Will old feelings bring them closer than before, or will it create a greater distance between them?

Cover art by Sumiensp on Twitter! 🤍

Azalea's not quite sure how much time has passed after her friends leave when she hears a knock; being too preoccupied with unpacking, and occasional coffee breaks. She rushes toward her door, standing on her toes as she peeks through the peephole when she recognizes Ilyana, and swings the door open.

"Oh, hey!" 

"Hey girl," Ilyana says, and Azalea catches sight of a bottle of wine being cradled in her arms. "I thought I'd bring by a welcome gift, and offer some help unpacking as a thank you for last night." 

Azalea smiles gratefully. "Thank you, yeah, that would actually be really great, come on in." She says, and steps aside to let Ilyana stride inside. 

"Looks cute in here already," She says as she walks in and sets the bottle onto the counter. "What can I help with?"

"Well you're just in time to help hang up some lights," Azalea says playfully as she pulls out an unkept mess of Christmas lights. "Or at least be here to dial 911 if I bust my ass doing it."

"Two short girls hanging up lights? Sounds totally doable," Ilyana laughs, helping to untangle the wires. "So, what're you coming to Paradis for?" 

"Oh, I'm majoring in psychology. I figured why not get extra credits for graduation here at one of the best universities in the country." 

"No fuckin' way." 

Azalea peaks over at Ilyana, her jaw dropped with an astonished look on her face. "Uhh -"

"I'm a psychology major too!" 

"You're lying." 

"I'm so serious!" She laughs and they both work on hanging up the lights around the balcony door. "That's perfect though, now I'll have back up when giving my friends unsolicited advice about all their behavioral problems." 

"Oh, I've absolutely got your back. That is one of my favorite activities, Isabel and Furlan always hated when I'd go brutally honest therapist mode on them." Azalea laughs, kneeling down to open up another box.

"Oh my god, same! Just wait until you meet the squad, they're absolutely crazy. There's Jean and he's a complete ...." Ilyana's voice fades out and Azalea's heart nearly drops into her stomach as she pries open this box. Sitting right on top is an old kids shoe box covered in stickers and sharpie drawings. 

She didn't remember packing this up, thinking back it must have been one of her friends who did. In a way she's thankful — but it also reminds her of the little piece missing in her heart. As she opened it, that little yarn bracelet and pendant engraved with the letter "L" was right where she left it.

"Hey, everything okay?" She hears Ilyana say, her friend now sitting across from her.

"Oh yeah, sorry. I just —" She pauses for a moment before holding up the bracelet. "I didn't realize this was packed up."

Ilyana takes it in her hand, carefully studying the pendant. "L... is this from an ex friend? An old lover?!"

Azalea looks back in the box, seeing old candy wrappers and dried flowers, all tucked on top of his old sweatshirt; little things she had saved that reminded her of him. 

"It's just a bracelet from an old friend, his name is Levi. We were really close when we were kids but he moved away. I haven't seen him since I was... twelve I think?" She says with a shrug.

"But... you kept all this stuff for this long." Ilyana says, a hint of curiosity and implication in her tone. "He must've been special."

Azalea looks at her with a soft smile. "He was." She sighs. "You know, first kiss and all that."

"Oh my god, I'm so invested now." Ilyana says excitedly, handing back the bracelet. "So what happened? You never found a way to contact him again after he moved?" 

"Pretty much. We were so young we didn't have cell phones or any way to keep in touch, I don't think he even really knew where he was moving to, and well now we're adults so it is what it is. He'll always be special to me though." She smiles back at the pendant, tucking it back into the box. 

"Whoa. Your life could literally be a Taylor swift song, all you need is to find him again and boom, her next top chart song." Ilyana says lightheartedly.

Azalea laughs, "We'd better get some of the royalties then if that ever happened."

The apartment was a mess of half-opened boxes and scattered belongings, but Azalea learns a lot about Ilyana as they work. Talking about anything and everything, as if they had known each other for years; touching on their favorite movies and books, shows and music. They joked about their friendship being fated, that being neighbors and meeting last night was meant to be. 

Hours slipped by unnoticed; the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the room. Suddenly, Ilyana's phone buzzed incessantly, interrupting their flow. She sighed, rolling her eyes as she swiped through a barrage of messages.

"Jean is blowing up my phone," she says, exasperated. "He's at the bar down the road with Connie and Sasha, they're apparently having a wing eating contest and he's bored of them. Would you want to go meet them and get some food?"

Suddenly aware of just how hungry she is, Azalea nods. "God, yes. Let me just change and fix myself up."

"I'll apologize in advanced for the heavy flirting Jean will do with you, if you're not interested just let me know and I'll tell him you're off limits." Ilyana pauses, "or if you're looking for an easy hook up, more power to you." 

"I'm not really looking for anything honestly, but also not opposed to anything either?" She feels her face warm up, realizing how unsure of herself she sounds. 

"Well I got your back either way, I'll be your wing woman or bodyguard, just say the word." Ilyana winks.

They're ready and headed out before long; Azalea feels her anxiousness about being introduced to an already close-knit friend group, though she doesn't admit it. She only hopes she clicks with the rest of them as easily as she had with Ilyana.

The bar is only a ten minute walk from their apartments, the streets lit up, bustling with college students reuniting after the summer break. It's all so different from her hometown, she tries to hide her awe as she takes it all in.

The bar is packed from the first step in the door. Azalea's nerves intensified, but Ilyana grabs her hand, guiding her through the groups of people until they reach a booth in the back. There, Azalea sees a brunette girl with a ponytail at the edge of the booth, her mouth covered in sauce as she devoured wings like her life depended on it. Next to her is a man with short gray hair and a pierced eyebrow, struggling to keep up with her pace. They must be Sasha and Connie. At the inside of the booth is another man with a brown mullet and light facial hair, scrolling through his phone, evidently not paying any mind to the two next to him. So that's Jean; Ilyana was right about him being attractive, that's for sure.

As they approach the table, Jean looks up and quickly nudges Connie's arm muttering, "Be cool." He glances up, hastily wiping wing sauce from his mouth.

"Hey guys, this is Azalea." Ilyana says. "Azalea this is Sasha, Connie and —"

Jean quickly stands up, bumping the table in the process as he extends his hand out. Azalea shakes his hand, before she can pull away his lips are pressed to the top of it with a small smirk. "I'm Jean. Ilyana didn't mention she was going to bring a beautiful woman such as yourself." 

Azalea giggles nervously, feeling herself blush under his hazel gaze. Ten seconds in and she's already questioning her ability to handle this level of flirting, especially with how attractive he actually is.

"Jesus calm down beanstalk, she just got here." Connie mutters, jabbing Jean in the side.

"Shut up Caillou." Jean retorts, punching him in arm as he sits back down.

Connie's eyes widen, "That joke is ten years old, get some new ones dickwad." He mumbles before his attention turns to Ilyana, smiling at her. "Hey Ilyana."

"Hey Connie," Ilyana says quietly as she slides into the booth next to Azalea. 

"Done!" Sasha shouts suddenly, slamming her fists onto the table then sticking a sauce covered finger in Connie's face. "Suck it, loser!" 

"Yeah, yeah. Were you even paying attention?" Connie shoves her hand away. "Ilyana and Azalea are here." 

"Oh." Sasha looks up and waves. "Hey, I'm Sasha!" 

"It's nice to meet you." Azalea smiles and waves back.

"Well that was an amazing introduction, I told you they were crazy." Ilyana says, wrapping an arm around Azaleas' shoulder. "But now you'll be part of the craziness too, you can thank me later." 

Jean orders drinks and food for the table; and while everyone talks amongst each other Azalea catches his gaze rarely shifting off of her. It's been a while since she's had attention like this, she does her best to smile softly at him each time their eyes meet. 

"So how did you two meet?" 

"Oh we're neighbors, I moved into the apartment last night and bumped into Ilyana, we just hit it off." 

"Nice, well hopefully we'll have some classes together so we can see more of each other." Jean smiles cheekily. "You'll be coming to our house show on Friday, right?"

"House show?" Azalea raises an eyebrow. 

"After the game we have a house party and we preform; our band." Connie chimes in. 

"He's the drummer, and the singer is yours truly." Jean winks. "Then there's Eren and Ymir too, I'm sure you'll meet them sometime. So you'll come Friday, right?"

"Yeah, I'd love to." Azalea smiles. "What game plays?"

"The college soccer team." Ilyana says. "They're a big deal here, and the first game of the year is against the rival school so it's going to be huge."

"I heard Zeke is coming back this season. Has Eren confirmed?" Sasha asks.

"Yeah he is, he's going to be coming in hot for the captain after last years game." Connie grins. "I still can't believe such a short guy has so much power, how he managed to twist Zekes leg on the field was awesome." 

"I've never heard of soccer being the college sport, isn't it usually football or something?" 

"You'll just have to wait and see the game. I'll get your ticket, we can go together." Jean smiles, hopeful but confident. Azalea's heart beats a little faster. 

"We're all going to the game Mr. Lover boy." Connie states, making Ilyana giggle softly.

"Dude shut the fuck up." 

"I'd like that." Azalea laughs, smiling at how flustered Jean is. "It'll be fun."

It's nearly midnight by the time they leave the bar, getting too caught up in conversation to notice how much time passed. In the time they were there, everyone coordinated class schedules and planned to meet up during free period at the cafe for lunch, Jean took a picture of her and Ilyana to be virtually introduced to Eren, Mikasa, Ymir and Historia in their group chat; and Sasha, in her wing induced coma, was practically carried out by Jean and Connie. 

Finally in bed, Azalea settles down. Her mind at ease about starting classes, at least she knows she isn't going into her first day alone. She sends the picture Jean took to Furlan and Isabel, just to let them know she's doing okay. 

Suddenly her phone vibrates — expecting it to be their reply, she's surprised to see it's Jean. 

Goodnight gorgeous, it was nice meeting you tonight. I hope I'm lucky enough to see you in my dreams.

Azalea can't help but laugh at the text, her chest getting tight and face warm. This fresh start is looking better already.