#waiting to exhale soundtrack

[tha-wrecka-stow]

[landoftheocsmegablogformyocs]

Zaria Puts On "Waiting To Exhale" Soundtrack On Blast When She Is Going Through Her Breakup With Ian

Seriously, she would be watching "Waiting To Exhale" while putting on the soundtrack. Added bonus if she was tempted to do the same scene that Bernadine did with her husband's clothing and burn it all. All the love she put in Ian was squandered the minute he decided to have a fling behind her back and squash all the trust she had in him. Also given she's a fan of retro stuff she would so be a fan of artists like Aretha, Mary Blige, and Whitney Houston.

[lightscamerabitchsmileee]

Vote for your fave, reblog & share your thoughts and other faves (even if it's not on this list) in the tags I would love to hear it ☺️☺️

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[softnessisaweapon]

only song i’m playin today

[texasbama]

I was going to ask you your 5 favorite songs Babyface has worked on or song himself, but it might be impossible to choose.

Between Boyz II Men, Toni Braxton, TLC, Whitney, Johnny Gill, Mariah, Brandy, and Az Yet (I Know they aren’t as famous as some of the others, but their debut album was one of my favorites) his footprint is all over that generation of R&B. I’d be hard pressed to come up with anyone who did it better.

Oh maaaan!! You took me BACK with Az Yet! Last Night is still my song! Lol

And you’re so right. You cannot talk about r&b - shit just music in general- without talking about Kenneth “Babyface” Edmonds. He has worked with LEGENDS. I mean he even produced a hit for Fall Out Boy ffs.

His pen game is insane. His ear for music is out of this world. Picking just 5 would be impossible😩😩😩

[lana-burner]

"Waiting to Exhale" has been slapping especially hard lately lol

[boricuacherry-blog]

Written and Produced by Babyface

[tha-wrecka-stow]

[hysteria-things]

VEGAS

based off of this

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!chris x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: while on a trip with chris in vegas, you get a little too excited when you see his new instagram post. you just can’t help yourself.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, teasing, masturbation (female), spanking, p in v, slight choking, hair gripping, semi-public, making out

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,029

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: chat i have mixed feelings about this one😔

❝i’m losing my patience, this ain’t staying in vegas!❞

⋆⁺₊⋆ ❦ ⋆⁺₊⋆

this kid. he has to be doing this shit on purpose now, and nothing pisses you off more. he thinks he’s so fucking clever.

for context, matt and chris came to vegas for justin’s big poker game. you decided to tag along, but currently, the three of them are downstairs in the hotel common area to hang out. wanting to give the boys their own time, you stayed in the suite.

you’re sitting on one of the chairs on the balcony enjoying the city sounds and the night sky until your boyfriend decides to do this.

ah, the rule. it’s simple, yet impossible at the same time. chris set it a while ago when you were acting like a brat, and it stuck from that day on. if you break it, you’ll get punished.

RULE ONE: never touch yourself when he’s not there.

let’s face it. you had your hand down your pants the moment you saw that photo.

not caring if people around can hear or see you, your fingers slide in and out of your dripping hole with ease. you make sure to capture it all, the squelching noise and your moans getting louder the faster your movements go. “chris.” you whine, wishing they were his hands instead of yours.

the shake in your legs gets tenser the closer your high gets. “going to cum for you.” you moan into the phone, biting your lip to silence the scream you want to set free. it doesn’t take long for you to make a mess of your digits, exhaling from relief. you don’t hesitate to send the video to him.

heart beating in anticipation, you hear the front door shut not even minutes after the last message. all you do is stare into space and patiently wait for the person you need most to come outside.

his footsteps get closer before the sliding door opens and closes, your innocent-looking eyes finally meeting his as he walks in front of you. he crosses his arms without saying a word, and you spread your legs to show what he does to you. he licks his teeth, admiring the mess sitting between your thighs.

a trail of cum connects from your pussy to a small puddle beneath you on the chair. from the slickness, it’s practically begging for chris’s cock to abuse your insides.

in the blink of an eye, he grabs your calves to pull you to him. you gasp, him cupping your ass to lift you over his shoulder. he gives you one��� two spanks before setting you down against the railing.

pressing hard against your clit with his thumb, he moves it in fast circles. “no teasing, please.” you protest, lolling your head back with a moan.

“you’re the one to tell me to not tease?” he scoffs, now moving his thumb slower up and down. “you’re lucky i’m going easy on you tonight.”

looking down ashamed, his hand wraps around your neck, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss. your tongues intertwine, the noise wet. chris swallows your sounds of pleasure.

lips travel down to your neck, licking and biting at your skin. not hard enough to leave a mark, but enough to drive you crazy. the erection in his pants nudges at your clit, not helping with the sensation you already have there. his breath is hot on your ear, teeth nibbling at the lobe. “turn around.”

when you do, he grips your hair to bend you over the cold steel, lifting his shirt that you’re wearing. you look down at the pedestrians below, who are completely oblivious to the actions happening above them. cars drive by, some horns honking in the distance.

chris’s pants bunch up on the floor when they meet it, aligning himself at where you are desperate. you gasp when you feel his dick stretch your walls, wrapping tightly around him.

before he’s about to thrust into you, you decide to take matters into your own hands. your hips move up and down, fucking yourself on his cock as you grip tightly on the surface in front of you.

groaning contently, he rests his free hand on the small of your back, giving you a spank here and there. licking his lips, he doesn’t take his eyes off the way you bounce back against his pelvis. the way your ass recoils is mesmerizing.

your moans are soft, lids fluttering closed when your legs start to tremble. because of that, you can barely move yourself anymore. then, you feel a hand wrap around the front of your throat once again, lifting your head to rest on a shoulder. “what were you thinking about, hm?” chris asks, thumb grazing your cheek. “what made you cum that hard?”

eyes opening, you shake your head. his hips thrust slowly, hitting that spot nice and deep. “you’re just so handsome.” you whisper, tears glazing your orbs.

his thrusts get more brutal when he kisses you, silent screams leaving your mouth. clicking his tongue, he leaves a smack on your ass. the stinging makes you accidentally cry out before stopping yourself.

he chuckles. “don’t be shy. let everybody know whose cock you’re screaming on.”

your moans get louder the more he hits your g-spot. you take a look down — where you could’ve sworn you made eye contact with a passerby.

the grip on your hair tightens, his dick throbbing against your clenching walls. you’re about to cum, and he’s not far behind you. the speed of his hips has you on your tippy toes, whimpering loud into the las vegas air. “i’m cumming. fuck, i’m cumming!” you squeal, making a mess down his base.

pulling out, your fluids drip down your legs, chris painting your back white. he lets go of your entire body, immediately almost falling to the ground if the railing wasn’t holding you up. you lean your head over it, trying to catch your breath. he smirks at the view.

after all, he’s been with you long enough to know what your cycle is like. perhaps he did make that instagram post on purpose; just for you. knowing that you’d cave. oh, well.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @moncherriis @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hearrtsturns @stars4matt @freshsturns @sturnlcvr @tpvmz @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @slut4mattsturn @thesturniolos @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings

[mononijikayu]

nonsense christmas — nanami kento.

“Tell you what, Kento.” you said, voice low and teasing. “If you don’t kiss me under a mistletoe by the end of the night, I’ll stop. No more flirting, no more teasing. I’ll leave you alone.” Kento tilted his head slightly, as if considering your words. “And if I do?” Your breath hitched at the question, but you managed a grin. “Then I’ll finally have my Christmas wish.” His lips parted softly, as though he were about to respond, but instead, he exhaled slowly, his warm gaze dipping to your lips for the briefest moment before meeting your bright teasing eyes again.  “You’re impossible.”

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Canon Convergence;

WARNING/s: AFAB! Reader, Safe For Work (SFW), Romance, Crushes, Getting Together, Classmates, Friends to Lovers, Persuasion, Teasing, Teenagers, Feelings, Friendship, Fluff, First Love, Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Flirting, Humor, Domesticity, Slice of Life, Mild Angst, Idiots In Love, Light-Hearted, Confessions, Pining, Kissing, Mistletoe Kiss, Christmas;

WORD COUNT: 5k words.

NOTE: nanami kento come to the front because??? you made your lover wait for this long??? but its okay guys, he'll love you forever so that he'll make up for his making you wait. anyway, i hope that you enjoy christmas!!! ill come back with more stuff!!! i love you all <3

box it up, christmas hun! (santa kayu 2024)

main masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

IT WAS THAT TIME OF THE YEAR. The ballroom felt alive, sparkling with the magic of the season. Music drifted through the air, a soft, lilting melody that seemed to heighten the intimacy of the moment. You couldn't help but notice how the warm golden light cast a soft glow on Nanami Kento's sharp features, making him look even more handsome than usual. His presence in the crowd was magnetic, his quiet strength standing out against the festive chaos of the room.

You couldn’t help but admit it: you liked this man too much. Nanami Kento was just that man. More than anyone else in this room. Maybe even more than anyone in the entire world. It was a thought that lingered in your mind far too often, but you couldn’t shake it, not when every moment with him felt like the only thing that mattered.

You decided that he was the one the moment you both were at Jujutsu High. The very first time you saw him, sitting there in the classroom, casually dressed in his uniform, a book in his hands. The image was burned into your memory, as clear as if it had happened yesterday. The way he looked—so effortlessly cool, so calm, so utterly engrossed in his reading. It could’ve been plucked straight from the pages of a shoujo manga.

And yet, as much as it was cliché, it was perfect. Every detail about that moment was perfect. His sandy blond hair, the way it fell in messy waves over his brow, the soft crease of his shirt, the relaxed way he rested his chin in his hand as he flipped the page. You could almost hear the soundtrack of a gentle string instrument playing in your mind as you watched him, caught in a moment that felt as if it had been orchestrated just for you.

You could still remember the flutter in your chest, that instant of realization. It wasn’t just admiration. It was more. It was the kind of feeling that felt destined, as if the universe had conspired to place you in that moment, in that room, with him. And just like that, you were hooked.

You didn’t even need to know him then to know that you wanted him. His presence was magnetic, his energy effortless, and you found yourself thinking of nothing but how perfect it would be to spend the rest of your life with him.

Looking back now, you could trace the beginnings of your feelings to that very moment—so simple, yet so profound. A single snapshot in time that made you realize that sometimes, the best things in life happen when you least expect them. That moment with him, so ordinary and yet so extraordinary, felt like fate pulling you toward something you didn’t even know you wanted.

And now, here you were, so far from that classroom, so far from the days when the idea of him seemed like an impossible dream, and yet… it was real. He was here, and he was yours. You smiled softly to yourself, your heart full as you looked at him, knowing that it all started with one perfect moment—and you would always fall for him, every time, in every way, for the rest of your life.

The memory of that moment still lingered in your mind, vivid despite the years that had passed. You had spent weeks psyching yourself up, rehearsing your words in front of Haibara, who always smiled and encouraged you.

“He’s too serious, but you’ll break through!” Haibara had said with his usual sunny grin. “You’re good for him, you know? Like sunshine cutting through all those storm clouds he carries around.”

Those words had fueled your determination, and when the day finally came, you’d found him sitting under the big tree near the practice field, reading. His tie had been loosened, his sleeves rolled up, and he looked so effortlessly put-together that it made your chest tighten.

“Kento, hey.” you’d called softly, your voice shaky.

He’d looked up, his expression calm as always, though his brow furrowed slightly when he saw the nervous way you fidgeted with your hands. You shouldn’t be nervous like this in front of him, but you were. It was hard, when you felt overwhelmed by someone. 

“Can I talk to you?” you’d asked, and he’d nodded, setting his book aside.

The confession spilled out in a rush, your words tumbling over each other as you tried to make sense of your feelings. You’d told him how much you admired his dedication, how his quiet strength made you feel safe, how you couldn’t stop thinking about him. By the end, your cheeks burned, and your hands trembled.

“I like you, Kento.” you had finished, your voice barely above a whisper.

Nanami Kento had listened without interrupting, his expression steady but unreadable. When you finished, he let out a quiet sigh, his caramel gaze dropping to the ground for a moment before meeting yours.

“I don’t think I can give you the answer you’re looking for.” he had said, his voice even but kind. “At least, not right now.”

The words had stung, but they hadn’t been a rejection. You nodded, forcing a smile. “That’s okay, Kento. Don’t worry.” you’d said, and you meant it. You didn’t want to pressure him or push him into something he wasn’t ready for.

Haibara had found you afterward, your head resting on your knees as you tried to process everything. “How’d it go?” he’d asked, sitting beside you.

“He didn’t say no, Haibara.” you’d replied quietly, your lips twitching into a small smile. “That’s something, right?”

Haibara had nudged your shoulder gently. “It’s more than something. He’s just the kind of guy who overthinks everything. You’ve planted the seed, though. Give him time.”

But time had passed, and Nanami Kento left Jujutsu High not long after. You never got another chance to talk to him like that again. You told yourself you were content loving him from afar, finding solace in the way your heart still fluttered at the thought of him.

But when he returned, something in you had stirred—a flicker of hope, fragile yet insistent. Maybe, just maybe, things could be different now. Time has changed both of you. The boy who had quietly declined your feelings at Jujutsu High had grown into a man, more self-assured but still carrying that same steady, composed demeanor that had drawn you to him in the first place.

You were adults now, and that alone made you believe there was a chance. Life has taught you patience, resilience, and the courage to keep trying, even when the odds seemed slim. That was why you hadn’t given up on him.

And so, you pursued him.

Every opportunity to be near him, to share a moment, you seized with the quiet determination that had defined your feelings for years. You sought him out for coffee when you knew he preferred a quiet café to the bustling city. You’d “accidentally” bump into him at the farmers’ market, pretending it was a coincidence even though you’d memorized his routine.

“Kento!” you’d say with a teasing grin when he raised a suspicious brow at you. “What a coincidence running into you here. Do you always buy the same sourdough every Saturday morning?”

He’d sigh, but there was a faint twitch at the corner of his lips, a ghost of a smile he didn’t quite let show. “You’re persistent.”

“Someone’s got to make sure you don’t spend your weekends brooding, you know?” you’d reply, nudging his shoulder. “Come on, loosen up!”

It became a habit, this delicate dance of seeking his company without being too obvious about your intentions. You’d ask him to spar under the guise of “staying sharp” though the truth was, you just liked the way he’d carefully correct your stance or the brief flicker of admiration in his eyes when you managed to land a hit.

“You’ve improved, a lot.” he’d say, his voice calm but laced with sincerity, and it would make your heart race.

“Good teacher, as always!” you’d reply, hoping he couldn’t see how much his approval meant to you.

Every moment with Kento, no matter how mundane, felt like a gift. Whether it was sharing a quiet cup of coffee on a rainy morning, or simply sitting in comfortable silence while reading, there was something in the way he looked at you, spoke to you, and allowed you to be near him that made everything feel extraordinary.

And though he didn’t openly reciprocate your pursuit, even after all these years. Never rushing into declarations of affection or sweeping gestures—he didn’t push you away, either. It was a slow process, but he let you in, bit by bit, his walls coming down in small, subtle ways.

You could see it in the way he’d glance at you when he thought you weren’t looking, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. You noticed it in the way he trusted you enough to share a casual comment or a fleeting thought during the moments when he felt most comfortable.

One evening, you found yourselves sitting on the couch in his modestly minimal apartment. The sound of the rain pattering against the window and the occasional crackle of the radiator filled the air as the two of you shared a bowl of popcorn. 

Nanami Kento looked so effortlessly at ease, his long legs stretched out and his sweater sleeves pushed up to his forearms as he focused on a historical documentary you’d both stumbled upon online.You leaned your head on his shoulder, your voice soft as you broke the comfortable quiet.

“You know, you’re not as cold as you pretend to be, Kento.” you said, stealing another handful of popcorn.

He glanced at you briefly, his lips parting slightly in surprise before he let out a small, amused chuckle. “Not cold?”

“You’re warm, always.” you said with a grin. “You let me in. You don’t push me away, even when you could.”

There was a moment of silence as Kento stared at the television, his hand resting on the couch beside you. His expression wasn’t guarded, but it wasn’t entirely open either—just enough for you to read the smallest hint of vulnerability.

“I guess I never really had a reason to push you away.” he finally said, his voice low but steady. “Never.”

His words lingered in the air for a moment, and you could tell he’d chosen them carefully. His voice had a softness to it that was rare for him, but just enough for you to feel the weight of his trust.

You looked up at him, meeting his gaze, catching the faint glow of the television reflecting off his glasses. “Why’s that?” you asked, your curiosity getting the better of you.

He hesitated for a moment, his shoulders shifting as he adjusted his position, and then he looked at you fully. “Because you make things easier,you make life feel kinder, in some ways.” he admitted, his words simple but honest. “You don’t ask for much, you listen, and you’re just there.”

You held your breath for a moment, your heart tightening at his words. His walls had come down, even if only by a fraction, and you could feel it. His tender tone, his presence, his warmth—it all felt so sincere. Too sincere for you to handle.

“I care about you, Kento.” you said softly, unsure if he truly understood the depth of your feelings.

His caramel gaze lingered on you for a moment, his hand reaching for the bowl of popcorn absentmindedly. His lips pressed together, his expression unreadable, before he looked back at the screen, the conversation shifting back to the documentary.

But the weight of his words, and his willingness to let you in, lingered with you, wrapping you in a warmth that felt both fragile and strong. You knew there was still much more to uncover with Kento, but for now, this….his presence, his openness, his choice to let you stay—it felt like it was more than enough.

And sometimes, enough was everything.

But sometimes, you know that doesn’t fill the hole.

You still wanted more than what enough was.

And that was human of you, truthfully enough.

You weren’t naive enough to think it would be easy. Nothing about life, especially when it came to love, had ever been simple. You knew this, just as you knew there was a layer of reluctance in Kento—a hesitation, a kind of guarded distance he fought to keep even when you could feel the pull between you both.

Kento was, and still is, someone who struggles with the idea of letting go completely. His walls were strong, built from years of experience, loss, and quiet battles that no one but him could fully understand. It was clear to you that he struggled with the need to distance himself.

As if pulling back were his only defense against the weight of inevitable heartache. His fear of loss, perhaps, weighed heaviest on his mind, an unspoken ache that lingered just beneath the surface. And he’s never gotten over it.

He never told you, not in words, though you could feel it. Sometimes, late at night, you could see it in his tired caramel eyes or hear it in the hesitancy of his voice. He still dreams of Yu Haibara sometimes, in the most grievous ways.

And it was there in his moments of quiet, the small ways he hesitated to open up, even when you wanted him to. His reluctance was both a shield and a barrier, but it didn’t mean he didn’t care. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to feel things he does for you.

Because even through that fear, even through his uncertainty, you knew he still wanted you close. He still wanted you around him. His need wasn’t entirely spoken, but you could sense it in the way his hand would linger near yours, in the way his shoulders would relax just a bit when you sat beside him, in the way his smiles felt so much warmer when they were aimed at you.

He wanted your companionship. Your warmth. Your smiles. Even if just for a little while.

And you found yourself wondering if you could ever bridge that gap, if you could ease away the weight of his fears, of his walls, just enough to allow him to breathe. But you knew it wouldn’t come easily. It wasn’t about convincing him or rushing him. It was about staying close without suffocating, about being the kind of presence that felt like home without overwhelming his heart.

So you stayed. Patient. Gentle. Hopeful.

Because sometimes, love wasn’t about having all the answers. Sometimes, it was just about simply the ability to be there. But of course, that didn’t mean you didn’t like being playful with him sometimes. 

Sometimes you ended up teasing, flirting absentmindedly when the mood suited you. It kept things light, kept the tension from building too heavily between you both. And you knew Kento liked it, even if he would never openly admit it.

Now, you watched him, standing by one of the tall windows with his usual composed grace. The snow was falling outside, the icy tendrils of white dancing against the backdrop of the gray sky, and it cast a dreamy, ethereal glow over his figure. 

His sharp handsome features looked even more striking in the pale light, his stoicism seemingly as solid as ever, but something about his posture seemed a bit softer, more contemplative, more… approachable.

He had a half-full glass of champagne in his hand, the bubbles dancing at the surface as if mirroring the cold, soft beauty of the snow. His gaze was fixed outside, distant, a world away from the warm interior you occupied.

You felt that familiar pull—the urge to go to him, to close the distance, to connect. It wasn’t a conscious thing, really. It just happened. And as you took a step toward him, you couldn’t stop the grin that tugged at your lips.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you took his hand gently, drawing his attention as you swayed toward him. His stoicism faltered, ever so slightly, his usual confidence wavering under the warmth of your smile.

“Care for a dance?” you asked, your voice light, playful.

His eyes flickered down at you, the quiet surprise in them both unexpected and endearing. He hesitated for only a heartbeat before nodding, his lips parting into the faintest, almost-smile. “I suppose one dance couldn’t hurt.”

You held his hand as you moved into a slow, natural rhythm, the sound of the music faint in the background as you swayed together. His movements were smooth, calculated, but you could feel the tension in his shoulders ease as he allowed himself to follow your lead. His fingers were strong, steady, warm as they pressed into your hand, grounding you.

For a moment, everything felt still. The soft sound of the snow outside, the faint music, the warmth of his touch—everything blended into this gentle, fleeting moment that felt like it belonged to just the two of you.

You met his gaze, playful and soft, as you twirled, and he followed you easily, his composure blending seamlessly into the rhythm you created together. You could feel his walls, his hesitation, but this time they felt far less imposing. His defenses, ever so slightly, had come down.

It was in these moments, in these small dances and quiet gestures, that you felt yourself reaching him bit by bit. Not with force or words, but with your presence, your laughter, your warmth. You grinned again as he looked at you, a genuine, rare smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, and you knew this was enough.

“Come on.” you teased gently, tugging him toward the floor. “It’s Christmas, Kento. Loosen up a little.”

His grip on your hand tightened briefly, a subtle indication that your forwardness had caught him off guard. Still, he followed, the faintest hint of pink brushing against his ears. As the two of you swayed to the music, you let your fingers glide lightly over his shoulder, relishing the solid warmth beneath your touch. 

“You know, Kento.” you began, your tone playful, “I wasn’t lying earlier. You’re on my wish list this year. Like last year and the year before that.”

Kento raised an eyebrow, but the slight flush deepened across his cheeks. “That so?”

“Mm-hmm.” you replied, tilting your head to meet his gaze. “You’ve got that whole ‘Santa-but-make-it-dashing’ thing going on. Makes a girl want to write a love letter to the North Pole.”

He cleared his throat, his warm caramel eyes darting away briefly before returning to yours. “I doubt Santa would entertain... that kind of correspondence.”

You leaned in, your voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. “Good thing I’m not sending it to him, then. I’d deliver it straight to you. No middleman required.”

For the first time that night, Kento faltered. His confident posture shifted, and his eyes widened just a fraction. “You’re relentless, you know that?” he murmured, a hand coming up to adjust his tie, though it wasn’t even out of place. “Always have been.”

You laughed softly, the sound warm and teasing. “Oh, Kento, don’t tell me I’ve made you nervous. It’s just a little harmless flirting…….but well,  unless you want it to be more.”

His lips parted, but no immediate response came. That small victory sent a thrill through you, and you leaned closer, just enough that your words were for him alone. “Tell me, does this kind of thing make you uncomfortable? Or are you just not used to someone being so... direct?”

Kento’s hand tightened slightly on your waist, his composed exterior visibly cracking. “It’s not discomfort, not at all.” he admitted, his voice low but steady. “Just unexpected.”

“Unexpectedly charming?” you pressed, your eyes twinkling with amusement.

He exhaled sharply, a sound that might have been a stifled laugh. “Something like that.”

Encouraged, you let your fingertips trace the seam of his suit jacket. “You know, Kento.” you continued, a playful lilt in your voice, “if you’re ever feeling generous this season, you could always fulfill my Christmas wish.”

“And what would that be?” he asked, the words coming out more strained than he probably intended.

You leaned in, your lips barely brushing the shell of his ear. “You. Under the mistletoe.”

When you pulled back to gauge his reaction, you were rewarded with the rarest sight: Nanami Kento, speechless. His hand flexed slightly on your waist, and his gaze flicked away as he struggled to compose himself. He looks at you for a moment. 

“You’re incorrigible, really.” he finally muttered, but his voice betrayed him—soft, amused, and maybe even a little flustered. “You haven’t  changed.”

“Only with you, Kento.” you said sweetly, squeezing his shoulder before stepping back. “But don’t worry, I’ll wait for my gift. After all, good things come to those who are patient.”

As you walked away, a satisfied grin on your lips, you couldn’t help but glance back to find Nanami Kento standing exactly where you’d left him, his calloused fingers brushing absently over his tie, his expression a mixture of bewilderment and something you dared to hope was intrigue.

The night carried on, the hum of conversation and the swell of holiday music forming a cozy backdrop, but you couldn’t keep your attention off Nanami. He had retreated to the edge of the room, standing by one of the tall, arched windows. The faint reflection of twinkling lights played across his face as he stared out at the snowfall, the earlier flush still faintly visible on his well defined cheeks. You decided you weren’t quite done with him yet.

Grabbing a glass of champagne from a passing server, you wove your way back through the crowd, your dress swishing lightly with each step. When you approached him, you tilted your head playfully, holding out the glass. 

“For the most stoic man at the ball, our dear Santa.” you teased.

He glanced at you, his lips quivering in what might have been a reluctant smile, and accepted the drink. “I didn’t realize I had a title.”

“Oh, you’ve earned it, Kento.” you said with a wink, leaning against the window frame beside him. “But don’t worry—I like a challenge.”

Nanami Kento took a measured sip of the champagne, but you caught the way his jaw tensed, as though he were bracing himself for whatever you might say next. It only spurred you on to tease him even more.

“So, Kento.” you said, turning slightly to face him. “Are you enjoying the ball, or are you just here to fulfill some jujutsu society obligation?”

He hesitated, clearly weighing his words. “I suppose I’m here out of tradition. And obligations. These events aren’t really my style.”

“I could’ve guessed that, you know.” you said, grinning. “You’re not exactly the life-of-the-party type. But you know, Christmas is about more than tradition. It’s about joy. And sharing it with someone.”

Kento gave you a sidelong look. “You’re quite persistent.”

“And you’re quite stubborn.” you shot back, smiling. “But I think there’s a soft side to you, Kento. One you don’t show often enough.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Oh? And what makes you think that?”

“Well, for one, you haven’t walked away yet. I’m sure that you could end up doing that, knowing how much I tease you.” you said with a smirk. “And two... you keep looking at me like you don’t know whether to scold me or kiss me.”

His composure faltered again, a faint cough escaping as he set his glass down on the windowsill. “You certainly have an active imagination.”

“Oh, come on,Kento.” you said, your tone playful but insistent. “Admit it—you’re at least a little tempted. And if you’re not, then prove me wrong.”

Kento looked at you then, really looked at you, his sharp gaze softening just slightly. For a moment, you thought you might have pushed too far, but then he straightened, adjusting his tie with a deliberate slowness. 

“I don’t think I need to prove anything.”

“Ah, I see.” you said, stepping closer, emboldened by the flicker of challenge in his tone. “So, you are tempted.”

He said nothing, but his silence spoke volumes. The tension between you was palpable, the space narrowing until you could feel the faint warmth radiating from him. You bit your lip, deciding to go all in.

“Tell you what, Kento.” you said, voice low and teasing. “If you don’t kiss me under a mistletoe by the end of the night, I’ll stop. No more flirting, no more teasing. I’ll leave you alone.”

Kento tilted his head slightly, as if considering your words. “And if I do?”

Your breath hitched at the question, but you managed a grin. “Then I’ll finally have my Christmas wish.”

His lips parted softly, as though he were about to respond, but instead, he exhaled slowly, his warm gaze dipping to your lips for the briefest moment before meeting your bright teasing eyes again. 

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re stalling for a while now.” you countered, a laugh bubbling up. “But that’s okay. I can wait. I always will.”

You stepped back, letting the tension linger as you gave him a playful wave and walked away. You didn’t have to look back this time—you knew he was watching. He was trying to memorize this moment, to observe it for what it was. And somehow, you had the distinct feeling that before the night was over, Nanami Kento would be fulfilling your wish.

As you moved away to get another glass of champagne, your heart fluttering with equal parts exhilaration and nervousness, you wondered if perhaps you’d gone too far. But before you could fully retreat into the crowd, you felt a hand on your wrist. It was a gentle, but firm pull enough to stop you in your tracks.

You turned around, with a surprised look on your face as you found Nanami Kento still standing there, his expression unreadable. His warm fingers lingered just a moment before he released you, his caramel gaze steady but softer than you’d ever seen it. The air between you seemed to hum with unspoken words.

“I—” He hesitated, his usual composure slipping just enough to make him seem almost vulnerable. He exhaled sharply, his shoulders relaxing as if surrendering to something he’d been holding back. “I need to say something. I should have, a long time ago.”

Your pulse quickened, and you nodded, stepping closer. “I’m listening.”

Kento glanced away briefly, as though gathering his thoughts, before looking back at you. His voice, when he spoke, was quiet but steady. “I’ve been aware of your... feelings. For a long time. I always knew about it. You were frank about it.”

Your cheeks flushed at the admission, but you didn’t interrupt. His words felt heavy, deliberate, as if each one had been carefully chosen. You could see the warmth in his eyes and the guilt and the desperation swirling through into one, your reflection echoing softly.

“I didn’t know how to respond, I never have.” he continued. “I thought it was... better to stay distant. With how things are….To keep things professional, I thought it was the best course of action. But… I made you wait. And that wasn’t fair.” He paused, his brow furrowing slightly, and when he looked at you again, there was something raw in his eyes. 

“What are you saying?”

“I’ve realized I’ve been lying to myself.”

Your breath caught, and you stared at him, hardly daring to believe what you were hearing. “Kento... you don’t have to—”

He ran a hand through his hair, his usual calm veneer cracking further. “I like you, I think I’ve always have.” he admitted, the words escaping like a confession he could no longer contain. “I’ve liked you for longer than I care to admit. More than I can express in words. Maybe…Maybe if I had loved you less, I’d be more able to talk about it.”

You gasped at his words, your mouth opening as wide as your eyes in surprise. “But I didn’t know how to handle it. You... you’re bold, and relentless, and you make it impossible for me to think clearly. You make it impossible for me to know what to do. Because I’m overwhelmed by you. And I…I surrender to it.”

“Kento, I just….” A surprised laugh bubbled out of you. “This is just….”

Kento gave you a small, self-deprecating smile. “You challenge me in ways I’m not used to. And while I’ve tried to ignore it, I’ve found that I don’t want to anymore. I don’t want to keep playing games, especially tonight.”

Your chest felt like it might burst, a mix of disbelief and elation washing over you. “So... does this mean I get my Christmas wish?”

Kento let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And yet, darling.” you said, stepping closer, your voice playful but trembling with emotion. “You like me anyway.”

He sighed, his lips twitching into the faintest of smiles. “I suppose I do. More than I could ever understand.”

“You made me wait a long time.”

His eyes looked warmly at you. “I know. And I have….I want to spend the rest of my life making it up to you, for making you wait for so long.” 

Before you could overthink it, you closed the remaining distance between you, your hand resting lightly on his chest.  You smiled at him. “Good. I’ll take that as your apology.”

“Does….does this mean—”

“Kento.” you murmured, your voice soft but sure, looking at his eyes more closely. You smiled at him. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

His warm caramel gaze dropped to yours, and for the first time, you saw no hesitation in his eyes. Not one bit. He smiled back at you, his warm palm resting against the tresses at the edge of your hair, tracing it as though to memorize every bit of you.

“I think I do.” he said, his voice low and steady, and then, as if finally giving in to everything he’d been holding back, he leaned down and kissed you.

The world seemed to fade around you, the music and chatter of the ball becoming nothing more than a distant hum. His lips were warm, firm, and deliberate, and the way he held you. His one hand steady at your waist, the other lightly brushing your cheek. It made you feel like the only two people in the room.

Your heart soared, the years of unspoken feelings and quiet longing finally culminating in this perfect moment. His kiss wasn’t rushed or hesitant. Everything about it was purposeful, full of emotions he’d kept bottled up for far too long. Everything about it made you swore into the clouds, ever so happily.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting lightly against yours, you couldn’t help the soft, giddy smile that spread across your lips. His face was red as the scarlet sunrise, but he smiled even warmer than that as your gazes lock in an embrace.

“Merry Christmas, Kento.” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly with emotion.

He huffed a soft laugh, his breath warm against your skin. “Merry Christmas.” Then, with a smirk that was both rare and devastatingly charming, he added, “I suppose you got your wish after all. After all this time.”

You laughed, the sound bright and uninhibited, before teasing back, “Well, you are my Santa, you always have been.”

“Am I really?” He responded back, heartily.

“You do have a big sack too, so……” You trailed off, leaning closer with a mischievous grin. “Let me unpack it tonight, Santa?”

His face turned into an even more impressive shade of red, his composure slipping for a moment as he stared at you in disbelief. You laughed as he looked away for a moment, trying to gather himself. Your arm wrapped against his own. 

“You—” He cleared his throat, his grip on your waist tightening slightly as if to steady himself. “That’s... incredibly bold.”

You tilted your head playfully, your grin widening. “My boldness worked on you, didn’t it?”

He exhaled sharply, his lips twitching as though trying to suppress a smile. “I’m starting to see that, darling.” he muttered, his voice laced with reluctant amusement.

The nickname had made you feel even more giddy inside. “Hm, I suppose so, my love.”

“I’m sure that you’ll be more creative about it.”

“Well, you are right.” you said, looping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. “Stick with me forever, Kento. I have plenty more where that came from.”

Shaking his head, but unable to hide the warmth in his warm mahogany gaze, he leaned in again, ever closer this time. You could feel his voice in a low murmur against your ear. He gives you a small smile as his fingers trace the back of your neck. 

“Something tells me I’m in for quite the adventure.”

“Absolutely, my love.” you said, beaming as his lips found yours once more, sealing not just a moment but the beginning of something you’d both waited far too long for. “Buckle up.”

He snickers. “I look forward to each and every nonsense Christmas then.”

You laughed. “Expect it for all your days too.”

“Hm, that’s what I signed up for.”

[f14fun]

big mouth, big brain (!youtuber x op81) ~ part 3

synopsis: in which case y/n, a video essayist pops up on oscar's youtube feed, and he falls in love with the way she speaks and tells stories

smau + prose (2.7K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ profile | masterlist | prev ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

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I was going to be on a bloody yacht.

He led me down a winding path that skirted the beach, the sound of the waves growing louder in the stillness of the night. As we walked, the anticipation built between us. I could feel the warmth of his hand, the steadiness of his grip, and it was incredibly reassuring.

"Are you serious?" I asked, a mix of disbelief and excitement in my voice. "You have a yacht?"

"Well, it's not exactly mine," he admitted with a grin. "But a friend of mine owns it, and he owes me a favor."

I laughed, shaking my head in amazement. "This night keeps getting better and better."

He chuckled softly, the sound blending with the rhythmic crash of the waves. The moonlight danced on the water's surface, casting a surreal glow around us. As we continued along the path, a soft breeze played with my hair, carrying the salty scent of the sea. Each step seemed to deepen the connection between us, making the night feel like a secret we shared.

The path curved gently, revealing a secluded cove where a sleek yacht bobbed gently in the water. Its polished hull gleamed under the moonlight, and the sight took my breath away. "Wow," I breathed, unable to tear my eyes away from the elegant vessel. It was like something out of a dream, a luxurious escape from the ordinary world.

He grinned at my reaction, clearly pleased with the effect. "Impressive, isn't it?" he said, his voice tinged with satisfaction. "Just wait until you see the view from onboard."

Together, we descended the wooden steps leading to the dock. The yacht swayed slightly as we stepped aboard, the deck cool beneath my bare feet. Soft music played from hidden speakers, creating a soundtrack to the night's unfolding magic.

He led me to the bow, where a plush seating area awaited us. It felt like stepping into another realm, far removed from the worries of everyday life.

We stood together at the dock, looking away from the marina and towards the water that was calming rippling underneath the gaze of the shining moonlight.

My white dress swayed in the wind, my lips glossy under the moonlight, and his hand tightly wrapped around mine. Every once in a while we would sneak glances at each other, while we thought the other one wasn't looking.

Biting my lip slightly when he would look at me, I felt nervous and hot underneath his gaze. Squirming, he grabbed my chin.

"Y/N, don't do that do your lips," he trailed off, speaking softly to me as his thumb gently rubbed my chin. Looking up at him through my lashes, everything around us suddenly seemed to fade away.

"Okay-," I dwindled off, as his gaze sudden detracted from my eyes, and trailed down to my plump lips.

In that moment, he seemed to get closer. Putting my hand on his chest, I could hear his faint heartbeat get louder and pump faster. He was nervous. I, made him nervous.

He was softly exhaling, as was I. I could only hear our breaths, slowly getting faster in that moment. Oscar's head titled, and in that moment, I knew what was about to come.

Grabbing my jaw, he made direct eye contact with me. "May I kiss you, Y/N?" My heartbeat fluttered, and I swear I could feel something else beating as well.

"Of course," I softly replied. The moment I gave consent, he dove right in. Lips connecting, time seemed to stop.

One of his arms tightly gripped my waist, the other gripping my jaw as he was softly kissing me. He was so gentle, yet so passionate and loving. Groaning into my mouth as I wrapped my arms around his neck, I felt his neck muscles flex. Playing with his soft brown hair, my freshly manicured champagne-colored chrome nails gently scratched his scalp.

We kissed passionately for what seemed like hours. Though it must have been a few minutes of bliss in reality. I was the first to part, and noticed that my lip gloss and lipstick was smothered all around his lip area.

Chuckling I wiped it off and showed him the red Dior lipstick stain on my thumb that had resided on his cheek.

"Looks like I've been marked," he said, a playful glint in his eyes as he leaned closer. "Should I be worried about leaving a trail of evidence?"

I laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "Depends on whether you want to be found," I teased, unable to resist the flirtatious banter that seemed to come so effortlessly between us.

He grinned, his gaze lingering on mine. "Maybe I don't mind being caught," he replied, his voice low and filled with suggestion.

I chuckled, enjoying the playful dance of words between us. "Oh, so you're admitting to being a wanted man?" I shot back, raising an eyebrow in mock suspicion.

His grin widened, and he leaned in closer, his breath warm against my cheek. "Only if you're the one doing the chasing," he whispered, his voice sending a delicious shiver down my spine.

I leaned back slightly, feigning contemplation. "Hmm, I do have a knack for tracking down elusive characters," I mused, my tone teasing yet tinged with genuine interest.

He chuckled softly, the sound like music in the stillness of the early morning. "Then I suppose I'm in trouble," he replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

I pretended to study him with exaggerated seriousness. "Well, you did lead me down this path," I pointed out, gesturing around us at the yacht and the tranquil sea beyond. "Seems like you've left quite a trail."

He nodded, his expression turning more earnest. "It's a path I'm glad you decided to follow," he said softly, his fingers lightly tracing circles on the back of my hand.

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me at his words. "Me too," I admitted, my gaze meeting his and holding steady. "I guess we'll just have to see where it leads."

He leaned even closer, his lips brushing against my earlobe as he whispered, "I'm hoping it leads to more moments like this."

My heart skipped a beat at his confession, the intimacy of the moment both exhilarating and comforting. "I think we're off to a pretty good start," I replied, my voice filled with a mix of playfulness and sincerity.

Feeling even more bold, I chuckled softly, feeling a rush of playful energy between us. "I must admit, you wear it well," I said, holding up my thumb to show him the faint smudge of lipstick. "But you might want to be more careful next time."

He grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement. "Noted," he replied, his tone light yet tinged with a hint of flirtation. "Though I have to say, it's a small price to pay for such delightful company."

I felt a blush creep into my cheeks at his compliment, the warmth spreading through me like the first rays of morning sunlight. "Flattery will get you everywhere," I teased, unable to suppress the smile that tugged at my lips.

His gaze softened, the playful glint giving way to a more sincere expression. "I mean it," he said softly, his thumb brushing lightly against mine. "I haven't had this much fun in a long time."

The sincerity in his voice touched me, making my heart flutter in a way I hadn't expected. "I'm glad," I replied honestly, meeting his gaze with an openness that surprised even myself. "Tonight has been... unexpected, in the best possible way."

He nodded, his fingers intertwining with mine. "Sometimes the best moments are the ones we don't plan," he mused, his tone thoughtful. "Like finding a lipstick stain on your cheek."

I laughed softly, the sound mingling with the gentle lapping of the waves against the yacht's hull. "Who would have thought a little makeup mishap could lead to such a moment?" I said, shaking my head in amused disbelief.

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against my cheek. "Maybe it's a sign," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "That we're meant to leave a mark on each other's lives."

His words sent a thrill through me, the romantic notion echoing in the quiet space between us. "I like the sound of that," I admitted, feeling a sense of anticipation building between us like a rising tide.

He smiled, a softness in his eyes that made my pulse quicken. "Me too," he replied, his thumb tracing gentle circles on the back of my hand. "So, what do you say we continue this adventure? See where it takes us next."

I nodded, a surge of excitement and curiosity coursing through me. "I'd like that," I said earnestly, feeling a surge of gratitude for the serendipitous turn of events that brought us together on this yacht, under this moonlit sky.

As the moon held its vigil in the night sky, casting a silvery sheen over the yacht's deck, we settled into a cozy corner under a blanket. The soft glow of candles created an intimate atmosphere, illuminating the desserts before us—a plate of tiramisu and crème brûlée, their decadent aromas mingling with the salty sea air.

He poured us each a glass of champagne, the effervescent bubbles adding a touch of celebratory cheer to the serene scene. "To unexpected adventures," he toasted, his eyes sparkling with warmth as he handed me a flute.

I smiled, clinking my glass against his. "To seizing the moment," I replied, savoring the crisp taste of the champagne as it tickled my palate.

We shared the desserts, trading playful banter and lingering glances that spoke volumes in the quietude of the night. Each bite of tiramisu melted on my tongue, rich and creamy, while the crème brûlée offered a delightful contrast of smooth custard beneath a perfectly caramelized crust.

Between bites, we talked about our dreams and aspirations, our favorite travel destinations, and even our shared love for late-night escapades. The conversation flowed effortlessly, punctuated by moments of laughter and the occasional shared sigh of contentment.

"I guess we've hit the apex of the evening," he quipped, his tone teasing yet filled with affection, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

I chuckled softly, enjoying the playful reference. "Well, if this is the apex, I can't wait to see what the straightaway looks like," I replied, matching his playful banter with a hint of flirtation.

He grinned, his fingers tracing idle patterns on the back of my hand. "Trust me, the view from the podium is even better with you by my side," he murmured, his voice low and intimate.

The warmth of his words sent a shiver down my spine, mingling with the gentle breeze that caressed our faces. The night around us seemed to fade into insignificance, leaving only the two of us in our private world aboard the yacht.

Leaning closer, our gazes locked in a silent agreement of shared desire, we savored each bite of dessert as if it were a testament to the sweetness of this moment. The occasional brush of fingertips, the soft exchange of smiles—it all spoke of a connection that went beyond mere words.

As the yacht rocked gently on the tranquil waters, I found myself drawn to him more than ever, my heart racing with a mix of excitement and anticipation. This night, filled with laughter and stolen glances, had woven a tapestry of intimacy that I never wanted to unravel.

"I'm glad you invited me," I confessed softly, breaking the silence that had settled between us like a comforting embrace.

His gaze softened, a tender smile playing on his lips. "I couldn't imagine sharing this with anyone else," he admitted, his fingers entwining with mine in a gesture that spoke volumes.

"And hey, if things go really well, I hear they offer Australian citizenship with every marriage," he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leaned closer.

I couldn't help but laugh at his playful suggestion, feeling a surge of affection for his sense of humor. "Are you trying to bribe me with dual citizenship now?" I quipped back, a playful twinkle in my eye.

He chuckled, his fingers gently squeezing mine. "Hey, it's just a perk," he replied with mock seriousness, his smile widening into a grin that lit up his face.

I leaned closer, teasingly narrowing my eyes at him. "Well, I'll have you know, my love can't be bought with citizenship perks," I teased, my tone light but tinged with warmth.

His grin softened into a look of genuine fondness. "Good to know," he murmured, his gaze lingering on mine as if trying to capture every detail of this moment.

The night air around us seemed to hum with possibility, as if the universe itself was conspiring to weave our destinies together. I found myself drawn to him in ways I couldn't fully articulate, my heart singing with a melody that resonated with his presence.

"But if you keep feeding me dessert like this," I added with a playful wink, "you might just convince me otherwise."

He laughed softly, the sound like music to my ears. "Consider it a delicious bribe, then," he replied, his eyes sparkling with affection.

We watched as the moonlight danced on the surface of the sea, casting a spell of tranquility over us. Time slowed to a leisurely pace, allowing us to savor each moment, each stolen glance, and each shared smile.

As the clock struck midnight, marking the transition into a new day, we remained on the deck, wrapped in each other's warmth and the promise of what lay ahead.

And as we eventually bid farewell to the night, reluctant to let go of the magic we had found, I knew that this evening had woven our hearts together in a tapestry of hope and possibility.

Hand in hand, we returned to the shore, our laughter echoing against the quiet backdrop of the ocean. The night had been a gift—a testament to the beauty of chance encounters and the transformative power of shared experiences.

And as we looked towards the future, I couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement, knowing that our journey together had only just begun.

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yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 233,152 others

yourusername: ignore the elephant in the room (twitter)

view comments

user1: alrrr, aesthetic queen

user2: not them using their own drunk paparazzi pics in their post, it's giving iconic shit

user3: I AM NEVER FORGETTING THOSE TWEETS THEY WERE FUCKING HILARIOUS GIRLLL

user4: nahhh nawt the "pls pls pls gimme ur babies"

user4: IN TEARS. 😭😭

user5: she must've been HELLA DRUNK to post those

user6: oscar too LMFAOO

user7: i know she just woke up feeling like shit, checked her phone, then wanted to kys

landonorris: those tweets...

landonorris: pr wants to talk to both of you...😭

yourusername: oh god oh god i'm in trouble

yourusername: little old me, a content creator online did the single handedly worse possible thing not to do: drunk post

oscarpiastri: LMFAO GET WRECKED🫵🏻🫵🏻

landonorris: what are you laughing about ur probably in trouble too 🫵🏼

user8: LMAOOO lando got their ass

user9: he said "check urself" before u check her

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 212,655 others

oscarpiastri: she's too cute, so i asked to be her boyfriend

view comments

yourusername: "can I be your boyfriend" >> "can you be my girlfriend" 🧡🧡🤤🙌🏼😇😍🥰🥰🥰😘

user1: "can I be your boyfriend" >> "can you be my girlfriend"

user2: "can I be your boyfriend" >> "can you be my girlfriend"

user3: "can I be your boyfriend" >> "can you be my girlfriend"

user4: "can I be your boyfriend" >> "can you be my girlfriend"

user5: wow mate, you really think you're winning in life

oscarpiastri: i really am. she was doing donuts on my dick last night

yourusername: OSCAR DELETE THAT BEFORE ADMIN SEES SKSKKSKS

oscarpiastri: well... you didn't deny it

landonorris: oscar jack piastri. you are going to give admin another fucking heart attack.

mclaren: 👁️👁️🕵🏼

user6: LMAOOOO GN

this comment thread has been deleted

user7: DID YOU SEE THE DELETED COMMENT THREAD LMAO

user8: i hope someone screenshotted ts and put it on twitter lol

user9: ughhh i love them so much

landonorris: congrats guys!! mawmaw yi pawpaw 🧡🫵🏼

liked by oscarpiastri and yourusername

yourusername: can i be your girlfriend, oscar? 🧡

oscarpiastri: can i be your boyfriend, y/n? 🧡

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author's note: ty guys for reading this fic! 😍🫶🏾

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Toni Braxton - You're Makin' Me High 1996

Toni Michele Braxton is an American R&B singer, songwriter, actress and television personality. She has sold over 70 million records worldwide and is one of the best-selling female artists in history. Braxton has won seven Grammy Awards, nine Billboard Music Awards, seven American Music Awards, and numerous other accolades. In 2011, Braxton was inducted into the Georgia Music Hall of Fame. In 2017 she was honored with the Legend Award at the Soul Train Music Awards.

"You're Makin' Me High" is the lead single from her second studio album, Secrets (1996). The mid-tempo song represents a joint collaboration between the Grammy Award-winning producer Babyface and Bryce Wilson. The beat of the song was originally for singer-songwriter Brandy, with Dallas Austin pegged to write a lyric to override; however, Braxton had Babyface write lyrics for the song. It was ultimately issued in the US as a double A-side with "Let It Flow", the airplay hit from the 1995 film Waiting to Exhale.

"You're Makin' Me High" became Braxton's first number-one single on both the US Billboard Hot 100 and Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Songs charts; it remained on top for one week on the former and for two weeks on the latter, eventually going Platinum. A remix by David Morales with re-recorded vocals allowed the single to also top the Dance Club Songs chart for two weeks in August 1996.

The song earned Braxton her third Grammy Award for Best Female R&B Vocal Performance in 1997. The success of "You're Makin' Me High" would later be continued with the release of the smash hit "Un-Break My Heart", which peaked at number one on the Billboard Hot 100 for 11 consecutive weeks, while topping the charts in several other countries.

"You're Makin' Me High" was sampled for Method Man & Redman's 2001 song "Part II", from the How High soundtrack. In 2014, Anglo-American producer/DJ Secondcity sampled a part of the song's bridge for the main hook of his UK number-one single "I Wanna Feel".

The accompanying music video for "You're Makin' Me High", directed by Bille Woodruff, features Braxton and a group of friends consisting of actresses Erika Alexander, Vivica A. Fox, and Tisha Campbell-Martin.

"You're Makin' Me High" received a total of 60,2% yes votes!

[justhereforxreaders]

The Prince and the Dragon Rider - Part Four: The Test

Jacaerys Velaryon x dragon rider!reader

Summary: you set forth to prove your worth as a dragon rider but must work to overcome your own insecurities while doing so.

Warnings: anxiety attacks, acrophobia (fear of heights)

soundtrack

part one: the oath

part two: tempest

part three: the dawn

part five: precipice

part six: pieces and players

part seven: the rift

As your new title echoes throughout the throne room, there is a quiet moment of reverence before Daemon steps forward from the shadows, already clad in riding armor. Glancing at Jace out of the corner of your eye, you stand to your feet before the future King Consort.

“Muster your dragon,” he nearly snarls, “and fly to the northern shore. You shall receive your instructions there.”

He disappears into the crowd as they begin to disperse and Rhaenyra steps up beside you, quickly followed by Jacaerys and Lucerys.

“Go to the dragonmont,” she utters softly, “we will wait for you and Tempest on the beach.”

You look up at her and give a stern nod, though your feet suddenly feel as though they are rooted to the floor. Noticing your hesitation, Rhaenyra turns to her sons and they stand at attention.

“Show them the way to the dragonmont then meet me at the north shore.” She commands her sons then looks back to you, “Best of luck.”

All three of you bow to the Princess and she smiles fondly before retreating back towards the throne.

“Shall we, Dragon Rider?” Jace jests playfully at your new title.

“After you, my Prince.” You tease in return.

Jace turns his face with a bashful smile as that subtle blush begins to creep across his cheeks. Lucerys steps forward proudly, oblivious to his brother’s embarrassment, and tugs on your arm to follow after him.

“This way!” Luke calls to you while marching towards the grand doorway.

You shoot Jace an apologetic smile as you chase after his brother and he returns the gesture with a gentle shake of his head.

The servant girl kindly holding your clothes rushes forward to hand them back to you before you pass through the doors. She offers you a curtsy and hurries away before you can voice your thanks.

“What’d she give you?” Jace inquires.

“My old clothes,” you reply with a thoughtful smile and turn them over in your hands, “I wanted to be comfortable for Daemon’s test.”

“Do you fly better with certain garments?” Lucerys asks, eyes alight with curiosity.

“Hah, I don’t know truthfully, but I thought it was better to be prepared.”

“I can’t wait until Arrax has grown big enough to ride! I want to learn how to fire a crossbow while flying!” He skips ahead giddily, spouting off more ambitious plans for dragon riding and you and Jace chuckle quietly.

As Luke rambles on you notice your ability to track your path through the castle is slightly improved as the dark halls are filled with the late morning sun. But you are still glad to have the princes’ company. Luke’s musings are a welcome distraction as your nervousness begins to build with every step towards the dragonmont. It finally comes to the surface when you reach a familiar entryway and Jace comes to a stop. Your hands tremble and your chest becomes tight. Jacaerys takes notice and gently nudges you with his uninjured arm.

“This path will lead you straight to the dragonmont.” He sighs and you let out a sharp exhale as you take a step forward. “Wait,” he calls, “take this with you.”

He reaches under his cloak and reveals a length of thick leather cord from beneath his sling.

“I wish could offer you a saddle but this will have to do until it can be finished.”

You take the cord and tilt your head at your friend.

“Lash them to Tempest’s horns,” he explains, “so you have something to hold on to.”

“Thank you, Jace.” You smile warmly and place a hand on his shoulder. Taking notice of Luke’s eyes on the two of you, you reach for his shoulder with your other hand. “And thank you, Luke, for leading the way. I’ll see you both on the beach?”

They both nod and make their way in the opposite direction.

You receive the same cold greeting from the robbed figures that guard the entrance of the dragonmont, but try to walk with more confidence as you pass through. Once you are out of sight, you hastily tuck yourself away into a small chamber and change out of your formal attire, taking a moment to stow them away for after the trial.

Finding your way through the dragonmont is much more straightforward and you quickly make your way to the large cavern where you left Tempest the night before. It is daunting to stand on the precipice of the stone platform, calling her name into the darkness. Daemon’s words from your first meeting, repeating in your mind.

In your years flying together, she had picked up on verbal cues from you that she seemingly obeyed, such as directional commands and when to lift off and land. But with the seeds of doubt Daemon had planted, it dawns on you that you never truly knew if she was listening to you. After all, she would act against your instructions on occasion if she sensed something that you could not perceive. Will Tempest follow your commands if she feels threatened? How will you complete Daemon’s task if she doesn’t?

Your hands begin trembling at the thought until you hear the comforting beat of Tempest’s wings approaching from within the mountain. The subtle iridescence of her black scales shimmer in the beams of sunlight streaming through the cave’s entrance. She trills happily and lands before you, gently nudging you with her massive head. You rest your head atop her nose and breathe deeply.

“You trust me, right?” You sigh and she lowers her head to allow you to climb just behind her horns. You huff a laugh, “I suppose this is one way to find out, hmm?”

She rises to spread her wings and you quickly secure either end of the leather cord to the pair of horns closest to you, creating improvised reins. Tempest then takes wing towards the morning sky, and as she does, you begin to feel some of that weight lift from your chest.

Although it takes a moment for you to orient yourself from this new vantage point of the island, you quickly make out a small gathering of people dotted along the sand. Tempest screeches in alarm when she spots them, unfamiliar with flying freely in broad daylight. Sensing her discomfort, you reach your hand to the top of her head.

“We’re alright,” you say calmly, “we’re safe.”

She chitters quietly and turns her head slightly to spy you out of the corner of her eye. You nod decisively and take hold of the reins before she dives down to the sand. Most of the onlookers scatter when Tempest alights among the shallow tide. All except the Princess and her sons. Once the sand has settled, a quivering man steps forward with a small scroll of parchment and begins to read aloud.

“A red banner has been placed amongst the ruins of the Whispers along the shore of Crackclaw Point. Retrieve it and return to Dragonstone before sundown.”

The man rolls up the parchment and turns to retreat.

“Wait!” You shout hurriedly, “Is that all it says?”

Rhaenyra extends her hand towards the caller and examines the scroll. She nods her head before handing it back to the caller.

“Daemon and Caraxes were seen flying north,” she calls, “I imagine they are waiting to oppose your efforts to complete this task.” She adds and watches your reaction closely.

A new dread begins to take hold and you look to Jacaerys who wears a grave expression upon his face and he moves closer to be sure you can hear him.

“Caraxes is fearsome and experienced but you two are cunning enough to catch him by surprise. And if that fails, you have him outmatched in swiftness.” He advises, a determined look in his eye.

Tempest roars, sensing your anxiety, and Jace calmly backs away with his hands raised in compliance.

“Easy, easy,” you utter, trying to calm both her and yourself.

You gaze out to the north, spying the cliffs of the mainland in the distance. Settling yourself with a breath, you turn back towards Jace and Rhaenyra.

“How far is the ruin?” You ask the both of them.

Rhaenyra looks towards the horizon then up to the sky.

“If you follow the coast, you should arrive before midday.”

You follow her eyes, noting the sun’s position in the sky and grab tight to the reins. Tempest sways side to side, like a large cat readying itself to pounce.

“Fly, Tempest.” You mutter and she lifts from the ground, the force of her wings causing the onlookers to brace themselves.

You spare one more glance towards Jacaerys before turning your attention towards the distant cliffs. Tempest follows your sight and, to your relief, she changes her direction to fly towards them without a word. A proud smile grows across your face and you once again place a hand upon her head, quietly thanking her.

Your first instinct is to urge Tempest to fly as high as possible to approach the castle from above but as you survey your surroundings you are reminded of her choice to fly just above the water when you first arrived on Dragonstone. As she quickly closes in on the mainland, you gently pull the reins to the right.

“This way,” you murmur, “stay low.”

She heeds your words without protest, rushing forward eagerly, keeping the coastline off to your left. As she effortlessly glides over the water, you keep your head on a swivel for any sign of Caraxes. After some time however, you find yourself captivated by the beauty of the environment.

The cliffs of Westeros are more jagged and the sea more treacherous than the coasts you had come to call home throughout Essos. But in watching the waves churn the dark water below your dragon’s wings, you feel a strange sense of belonging. You glance down at the powerful creature to whom you have entrusted your life time and time again and a deep sense of purpose begins to surge throughout your being.

The sun continues to climb higher while you soar along the coast and as it approaches its peak you encourage Tempest to creep closer to the cliffs. You scan the tops, searching for the ruins but the tree cover becomes too dense for you to distinguish castle from rock. With a defeated sigh you tug on the reins to instruct Tempest to fly up but before the command leaves your lips, a haunting trill reverberates through the air. You whip your head around just in time to catch the flash of a red tail disappearing over the top of the cliff.

“Dive, Tempest!” You cry in a panic and take a deep breath as she swiftly plunges into the water.

The cold water sends a shock through your body that you thankfully only have to endure for a moment before she breaks the surface. You gasp for air and quickly turn your attention back to the sky. Another shrill cry rings out from above but the way it echoes around you prevents you from discerning which direction it came from. As calmly as you can manage, you urge Tempest to swim towards the cliff face, keeping your eyes fixed on the place you saw the tail vanish.

Despite the knowledge that Daemon is lurking so closely, you find relief in knowing that the castle must be hidden nearby as well. You narrow your eyes at the cliffs once you reach its base. Though it becomes steeper as you look up at it, it is significantly shorter than the sheer rock faces of Dragonstone. Tempest carefully clamors up a formation of rocks and you wait with bated breath for another screech from your pursuers.

When you are met with only the sound of crashing waves and your heart racing in your ears, you wrap the reins around your forearms and cling tightly to Tempest with your legs.

“Tempest, climb.”

You press your forehead into Tempest’s scales and brace yourself as she starts to crawl up the jagged wall. The sound of seabirds fleeing their nests at her approach becomes louder than the waves as she continues the ascent. Your arms begin to fatigue and threaten to fail just as Tempest comes to a sudden stop. She chitters in distress and you follow her gaze to see the bone chilling visage of the Blood Wyrm peering over the ledge off to the right of your position, looking out to the sea. Tempest snarls and Caraxes cocks his head to the side, trying to locate the source of the noise.

You hold your breath as he scans the rocks, willing your hands to keep holding on. He suddenly leaps over the edge, swooping down past you and Tempest and begins searching the waves below.

“Go!” You say in an urgent whisper and Tempest pushes off the wall, soaring swiftly over the top of the ledge and landing with a crash among the trees.

You fall forward upon her back and begin unwrapping the reins from your forearms, wincing as you pull them away from the deep red lines they leave behind in your skin. Sliding off her neck, you run back to the ledge to locate Caraxes only to be blown back from the force of his wings as he crests the cliff top right in front of you. You are sent to the ground behind you and Tempest roars at the sky and to your horror, launches up to pursue Caraxes. They chase each other above you then dive back over the cliff towards the sea. Moving back to the ledge, you watch them weave around each other, neither of them seeming to gain any ground over the other.

Your attention is then drawn to your left as you spy three crumbling stone towers poking through the trees. Fearful tears begin to escape out of the corners of your eyes as you look back and forth from the chase and the ruin, trying to decide what to do now. After one more painful moment of watching Tempest dodge Caraxes, you tear yourself away from the edge, sprinting into the forest toward the ruins.

“She will find me.” You utter to yourself, tears flowing freely as you run. “Just retrieve the banner and get back to her.”

The roars off in the distance compel you to run faster until you stumble into the overgrown courtyard of the ruined castle, a red banner sticking out of the ground across the open space. You choke back more tears and rush to the banner. Eagerly plucking it from the ground with your shaking hands and taking a moment to breathe then turn towards the sound of dragons clashing.

Rather than running back to where Tempest landed, you instead run directly towards the ledge, hoping to catch Tempest’s eyes. As you skid to a stop just before the drop off, you notice the roars have fallen silent. You peer over the edge but find no sign of either dragon on the horizon.

“TEMPEST!” You scream over the edge, causing another flock of seabirds to take flight from their nests below.

The cry of the birds and the waves below are once again the only noise your ears detect, so you draw in another deep breathe to shout again but are cut off by the crash of trees directly behind you. A snarl sounds and you whip around to see the wicked grins of both Caraxes and Daemon perched upon his back.

“The beast has fled,” Daemon smugly shouts at you. “As I expected.”

Caraxes lunges at you and you jump backwards, teetering on the cliff’s edge. Daemon laughs bitterly and begins to berate you but it all falls on deaf ears as your skin prickles at the sound of Tempest’s call from below. Without a second thought you turn your back on the two of them and leap from the ledge while clinging to the banner. An involuntary scream escapes your lips as you fall towards the water until Tempest swoops beneath you, catching you in the air.

You adjust to grab hold of the reins before glancing behind you to see Caraxes take to the sky with a shrill roar. He follows furiously behind, gnashing at the empty air between you. This time, however, Tempest charges forward with ease. No longer feigning an even match for the sake of the chase. Although Caraxes still pursues you relentlessly, it quickly becomes apparent that he cannot hope to catch up. You beam with pride and embrace the back of Tempest’s neck.

“Let’s go home,” you sigh and she roars in agreement, rushing forward with even more speed.

- - - - -

Jacaerys sits alone on the beach where you left him, drawing shapes in the sand with the end of a stick, occasionally glancing up towards the spot where you disappeared on the horizon.

“You know you have lessons to attend,” his mother’s voice calls from behind.

He throws the stick into the tide and crosses his arms over his chest.

“I didn’t see the use in going if my attention would only be focused here.” He mumbles quietly.

Rhaenyra sighs and moves to place her hand on his head, tousling his dark hair.

“You’re very attached to, y/n,” she says warmly.

Jace shuffles to his feet, avoiding his mother’s face.

“They are one of the few people who don’t make me feel like a pawn in someone else’s game.” He mutters, still staring at the sand. “And now I’ve invited them into the same life that they provided me refuge from. If any harm should come to them I don’t know that I could forgive myself.”

Rhaenyra watches her son with a sorrowful smile. She reaches an arm around him but he suddenly darts forward out of her grasp. A distant roar over the water draws her attention as well.

Jacaerys and Rhaenyra watch as the black shape of Tempest comes into focus as she approaches, Caraxes coming into view further behind. Jace smiles up at his mother before turning back to the horizon.

Tempest lands in the water before the Prince and Princess and Jace watches with pride as you dismount with a red banner in your hand. He runs forward to meet you in the water. Rhaenyra watches from the shore as the two of you converse happily but looks back up to the sky to see Caraxes nearing the beach. As he moves in to land, Tempest snarls but you place a hand on her neck.

Daemon stays mounted upon his dragon as Rhaenyra moves towards them. You and Jacaerys follow suit, emerging from the shallow water to converge on the beach.

“Satisfied?” She asks, raising an eyebrow.

Daemon smirks and looks to you as you walk with the banner in hand. Before you and Jace have closed the distance, Daemon calls out across the sand.

“That was reckless!”

You freeze mid stride, bracing yourself for some scathing reprimand.

“Well done.” He continues with a subtle nod.

He looks back to Rhaenyra and bows before departing from the beach in a flurry of wings and sand. You step forward and offer the banner to the Princess. She graciously takes it and drives the pole into the sand between you before reaching out to take your hand.

“The maesters will meet you in your new chambers.” She murmurs while examining the red lines carved into your forearms.

You and Jace exchange a glance and you look up at Rhaenyra.

“New chambers, Princess?” You ask.

“Yes,” she says casually, releasing your hands, “you shall be moved into a larger room befitting your station. I’ll send for you after you’ve rested.”

Jacaerys beams at you and Rhaenyra discretely does the same to him. She begins to depart and Jace backs away after her.

“I can’t wait to hear everything.” He says with a smile and bids you farewell. Turning away with a calming warmth in his chest.

[hazzashouse]

The Space Between Us (Harry Styles series)

Hi! Welcome to my new series The Space Between Us! This is a Harry Styles x OC fanfiction, where Harry plays himself—a global superstar—and the story explores his reunion with Sophie Pearson, his childhood best friend (and maybe more…). Expect moments filled with angst, tension, and heartwarming memories as they navigate the challenges of reconnection.

CHAPTER TWO: HERE

Triggers: None - this chapter is light :)

Pairing: Harry Styles x Sophie Pearson

Word Count: 3,112 Words

Enjoy the first chapter, and let me know what you think!

Chapter One: A Familiar Face

“Sophie! Where’s the seating chart?”

Her brother’s voice boomed from the dining room, sending a ripple of urgency through the already chaotic house. Sophie Pearson was halfway up the stairs, one hand clutching a clipboard and the other holding a pen precariously between her teeth.

“It’s on the table, next to the candles!” she yelled back, spinning around to double-check her mental checklist.

The house was a hive of activity. Family members, caterers, and a few overenthusiastic friends buzzed around, each consumed by their own tasks. The faint hum of a vacuum cleaner fought against the soundtrack of wedding prep chaos: doors slamming, hurried footsteps, and someone playing music too loudly in the kitchen.

Sophie reached the landing and poked her head into the guest room, where the bride’s dress hung like a masterpiece in a gallery. Everything seemed fine here. She exhaled a small breath of relief and moved on.

Downstairs, her brother Anthony appeared in the foyer, adjusting his tie.

“You’re too calm for someone getting married in three hours,” Sophie teased, her tone sharp but fond.

“Someone in this family has to be,” Anthony shot back, grinning. “Besides, I have you to keep everything on track.”

“That’s right,” she muttered, flipping through her clipboard.

————————

A Stroll Down Memory Lane

As Sophie rushed from room to room, the house seemed to breathe with memories. Every corner held whispers of the past—of childhood laughter, whispered secrets, and endless summers spent with the boy who used to be her best friend.

Harry Styles.

Her chest tightened at the thought of him. Their lives had once been so intertwined it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. Their mothers had been inseparable, which meant Sophie and Harry had been inseparable too. Sleepovers turned into late-night talks, and holidays together became their little tradition.

But that was a lifetime ago. Before The X Factor. Before the world knew his name.

Sophie tried to shove the thought aside, but it lingered like a shadow. She could still remember the last time she had seen him.

It had been an unusually cold night. They stood at the edge of their favorite park, the one where they’d shared so many childhood adventures.

“You don’t have time for me anymore,” she had said, her voice breaking as she hugged herself against the chill.

“That’s not true,” Harry had insisted, his eyes wide with something like guilt.

“Then prove it,” she’d snapped, hating herself for how desperate she sounded. “Because I’m not just some fan waiting for your attention, Harry. I’m supposed to be your friend.”

“I’ll always come back for you,” he’d said, his voice soft but resolute. But even then, they both knew the promise was an impossible one.

————————

“Sophie!”

Her cousin Lizzie’s voice snapped her back to the present. “The florist needs to know where to put the centerpieces!”

Sophie blinked and nodded, forcing a smile. “Tell them to arrange them on the dining table for now. I’ll figure it out.”

The clock was ticking. The bride would be arriving in less than an hour, and Sophie was determined to make sure everything was perfect for her brother’s big day. She adjusted her clipboard, smoothing down her blouse as she made her way back downstairs.

Outside, the January air was crisp and cold. Guests began arriving, filling the house with a mix of excitement and chatter. Sophie was so focused on coordinating the details that she didn’t notice the sleek black car pulling into the driveway.

She was checking on the catering setup when the front door creaked open. Out of the corner of her eye, Sophie caught a glimpse of movement.

“Finally, the photographer,” she muttered, brushing a stray lock of hair out of her face.

She turned to greet them, her lips already forming a polite smile. But the words died on her tongue.

It wasn’t the photographer.

It was Harry.

He stood in the doorway, framed by the soft winter sunlight. He looked older but still impossibly familiar—like a piece of her past brought to life. His suit was impeccably tailored, and his green eyes sparkled with a mix of nervousness and amusement.

“Hi, Sophie,” he said, his voice warm and tinged with something she couldn’t quite place.

Her clipboard slipped from her hands, clattering to the floor.

For a moment, the chaos of the wedding melted away. All she could see was him—the boy she had grown up with, the man who had become a stranger.

Her vision swam.

“Sophie?”

Harry’s voice was the last thing she heard before the world went black.

As Sophie sank into unconsciousness, her mind conjured an old memory—their last conversation before he left for good.

“You’re leaving again?” she had asked, her voice trembling with frustration.

“I have to,” Harry had said, running a hand through his curls. “This is my dream, Soph. You of all people should understand that.”

“I do,” she’d whispered. “But it feels like you’re choosing your dream over me.”

He’d reached for her then, his hand brushing against hers, but she’d stepped back.

“Good luck, Harry,” she had said, forcing a smile through her tears. “I hope it’s everything you want.”

And then she had turned and walked away.

————————

CHAPTER TWO: HERE

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