#you guys know I'm not usually this salty...

[helloalycia]

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 [𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄] — 𝐒𝐊𝐘𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘

one / two / masterlist / wattpad

summary: when someone asks you out, things get tense between you and Skye and you aren’t sure how to deal with it.

warning/s: the usual warnings that have come with this fic lol.

author's note: and here's the last part! this was a fun one to write, and it's always fun to write for naomi since there aren't many characters of hers i can write for!! (still salty terra nova was cancelled 😭). So yeah, hope you guys like it 🥰

Skye was recording some bits at a studio in the city and we were supposed to hang out after, but I didn't have much else to do and ended up arriving early. As she finished up, I hung around to let her finish, snooping around the building and chatting with some of the staff there.

As I was, I ended up getting caught in some conversation with one of the production assistants, Anna. It was always nice to get to know new people, but I didn't realise it was more than that until she started to flirt with me. Maybe she always was and I was too dumb to notice, but I was awkwardly flattered.

Still, she was interesting and we seemed to get on, getting lost in conversation for about ten minutes. Only when Skye finally finished in the studio and left to find me did the conversation end.

"There you are," she said with a smile when she saw me, before noticing Anna. "Oh, hello."

"You're Skye Riley," Anna noticed with an amazed smile, before glancing at me. "You know, I thought you were playing me when you said she was your friend."

I exhaled with amusement, shaking my head. "Not playing."

She gave me a surprised look before looking to Skye politely. "Sorry, how rude of me. I'm Anna. I work here. Big fan of your music."

"Nice to meet you, Anna," Skye greeted with an easygoing smile.

"You done?" I asked Skye, referring to her work.

"Done," she confirmed.

I nodded, before offering a friendly nod to Anna. "It was great meeting you, Anna. I should go. Skye and I have plans."

Anna nodded. "Of course, yeah, you mentioned..." She paused, hesitating as she glanced shyly at Skye before meeting my gaze. "Did you wanna, maybe, hang out some time?"

I raised an eyebrow, hoping my surprise wasn't too obvious. Skye swallowed awkwardly when she realised what was happening.

"Sorry, I'll give you guys a moment," she mumbled before leaving to wait down the hall.

I didn't know what to think as I looked back to Anna, seeing her waiting hopefully. "I– sure."

Anna breathed out, relieved, as she pulled out her phone. "Great. You wanna put your number in here and I'll text you so you have mine?"

I nodded, body working on autopilot as we exchanged numbers. It wasn't that she wasn't lovely – she really was – but I wasn't used to someone actually outright flirting with me like she had been. Plus, I was always awkward when it came to pretty girls.

"Got it," I said when my phone dinged with a text from her.

"Awesome," she said with a bright smile. "I'm expecting a message," she added jokingly.

"Sure," I said with a nervous smile.

She chuckled before straightening up. "Right, I'll let you go. See you soon, Y/N. Hopefully."

"See you," I said as I watched her leave, still surprised at how someone as pretty as her actually wanted a date with me. And so confidently too.

Shaking my head, I rejoined Skye who was lurking at the end of the hallway, watching the whole encounter as much as she tried to pretend she wasn't.

"Hey," she said when I stopped by her side. "Ready?"

I hummed as I fell onto step with her, the two of us going to the lift.

"So, who was that?" she asked whilst we waited inside. "You got a date?"

I shrugged, still replaying the encounter in my mind. "We just got to talking and I wasn't expecting her to be interested in me, but... yeah. She gave me her number."

Skye nodded, eyebrows raised slightly. "Cool... so are you interested?"

I glanced at her, unsure. "I don't know. I just wasn't expecting it. You know I get talking to people when I'm bored."

She smiled slightly. "Yeah, I do. It's so annoying how social you are sometimes."

I rolled my eyes playfully and continued, "I'm not sure if I'll text her."

She hummed, looking to the lift doors as they opened, and stepped out. Her lack of advice was disorienting me.

"Do you think I should?" I asked, falling back into step with her.

"What?" she asked, glancing over at me with an unreadable expression.

I quirked a brow, wondering if she was even listening. "Text her back?"

She nodded slowly. "Well, do you want to?"

I felt my cheeks grow warm as I looked away, smiling nervously. "I don't know."

"It can't hurt, can it? It might be nice."

I chewed on my lip, pondering her words. I wasn't even sure why I was overthinking it. It was just a date.

"Just take it easy though," she said nonchalantly as we walked out the building and down the street. "You don't wanna lead her on or anything."

"True," I agreed. "Might be worth a shot though. We did get on. The spark was there."

"Just don't get attached," she warned, glancing sideways at me. "You tend to do that."

It took a moment for her words to digest, and when they did, I grew offended. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"What? You do," she said lightheartedly, but it did nothing to put me at ease. Probably noticing my expression, she tried to amend her words. "Sorry, what I meant was– you go all in, y'know? I just don't want to see you get hurt."

I blinked, looking ahead. "Wow. Thanks."

"No, I didn't mean it as an insult," she said quickly, hand wrapping around my arm as if to get my attention. "I'm just looking out for you, Y/N."

I didn't know why her words stung, but they did. Was that seriously how she viewed me? As someone who got overly attached?

It made sense, in some way, especially after everything that happened with us. But it still hurt coming from her, probably because deep down I knew she was right. Except, the only person I'd ever gotten attached to was her. My mistake, I was well aware.

Suddenly, she stopped in front of me, facing me with a guilty frown on her lips. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. It wasn't nice of me to say."

I looked down. "Doesn't matter."

"It does," she said firmly, squeezing my arm. "Really. I'm so sorry."

A little embarrassed, the familiarity of the situation creeping in, I shook my head. "It's fine. Let's just go find somewhere to eat."

To my relief, she gave in and we both continued walking to find somewhere. Admittedly, the tension was still present on my side, my feelings stewing with each step. It was disheartening, knowing she thought of me like that, joke or not.

We ate in an awkward silence, and Skye made attempts at conversation but I couldn't force myself to entertain them.

"How's your burger?" she asked, nodding to my plate. "Food here's nice, isn't it?"

I hummed halfheartedly, picking at my fries.

She sighed softly, losing her smile. "Y/N, I didn't mean what I said before."

"It's fine," I told her once more.

Her eyes flickered between mine knowingly. "You're upset."

I merely shrugged, looking down to my plate, only making her sigh again.

"You should go out with her," she said, as if that was what I wanted to hear and would make up for what she'd said. It only made me feel worse.

I ignored her, instead responding, "Let's just talk about something else. How's your tour prep going?"

She frowned slightly, clearing her throat. "Erm, fine, I suppose... Not long left now. I'm just finalising outfits and..."

As she talked a little about it, my previous anger and hurt had long faded into disheartenment. It was frustrating to admit to myself, but Skye's reaction wasn't one I'd hoped for. I wanted her to tell me not to go out with Anna, that she didn't like the idea. And that's when I knew I was delusional.

And definitely not over my best friend.

After paying for our food, Skye and I left the restaurant, awkwardly lingering outside.

"I should go," I spoke before she could. "I've got some work to do."

She nodded, sensing my mood and not saying anything else. I hesitated, noticing the discomfort in her expression, before pulling her in for a hug. It wasnt her fault I was so conflicted – she couldn't have known anything about where my head was at and taking it out on her wasn't fair.

She returned my hug, relieved. "Talk later?"

I nodded as I pulled back, offering her a small smile, hopefully letting her know that I wasn't upset. At least, not at her.

She returned it, grateful, before squeezing my arm gently and letting me go. Meanwhile, I knew I needed to fix whatever was wrong with me before it got worse.

—

I did end up texting Anna back and we'd arranged a date a week later. Part of me thought it could be good to put myself back out there with someone lovely like Anna, but the other part of me also used it as a fast track to get over whatever feelings I had for Skye.

Despite our brief argument, Skye was supportive when I told her, being a typical best friend who wanted to know all the details when she could. I believed that if I played the part hard enough, it would feel real and I'd get over her. But no matter how much I tried, I just couldn't.

The date was great. Not a thing I could fault and yet I still returned home feeling deflated and hollow. Anna was the perfect date and we had a lovely time bowling, but all I could think about was Skye and how much I wanted it to be her. It was awful, from that perspective, and definitely made my scrambled head worse.

As I took a moment to collect myself on the couch as soon as I entered my apartment, my phone rang. Speaking of the devil...

"Hey, Skye," I answered tiredly.

"Is your date done? I wanna know everything!" she said excitedly.

I sighed, massaging my head. "Yes, but–"

"Awesome! I just finished some boring photo shoot and am on my way back, but I thought I may as well stop by yours, that cool?"

I scrunched my face up in disagreement, her face being the last I needed to see right now. "I'm actually kind of tired, Skye."

She laughed, sending shivers down my spine. "Oh, grow up, baby. See you soon!"

Before I could protest, she'd hung up, leaving me to drag out a long groan as I leaned back in irritation. So much for self-deprecating for the rest of the evening. 

By the time I'd gotten into my pyjamas and freshened up, there was a knock at my door. Reluctantly, I went to answer it, seeing Skye on the other side.

Her smile faded when she noticed my expression. "Oh, no, how did it go?"

I turned around, flopping down on the couch, face-first. "Average."

The door closed and she approached the couch. "No wow factor?"

I shook my head as she took a seat beside my head, resting her hand in my hair and stroking it gently which did nothing to help with my racing heart.

"It's okay," she said softly. "At least you tried."

I exhaled into the couch cushion before sitting up, facing her as I leaned against the back.

"What wasn't great?" she asked sympathetically, leaning her elbow on the back cushion and watching me carefully.

I shook my head, unable to hold her gaze and instead focusing on the loose thread from the cushion. "It was fine. Anna was lovely. But I just... yeah."

She hummed in understanding. "Sorry."

All I could do was shrug.

After a moment, she lifted her arm out, extending it. "Come here."

I hesitated, unsure if this was the best next move. But I felt like crap and Skye was my best friend first and foremost. So, I crawled over to her and let her pull me in for a hug against her chest. She stroked my hair again, kissing the top of my head and making me sigh with comfort.

"You wanna talk about it?" she asked, voice mumbled as her lips were still pressed to the top of my head.

I shook my head gently.

"Alright." She continued to stroke my hair soothingly. "Wanna get your mind off it? We could watch a movie."

I swallowed thickly, not in the mood for anything right now.

"Or I can leave and give you some space," she continued, seeming to notice my mood.

As much as I hadn't wanted her here, I now didn't want her to leave. Shaking my head, I sat upright. "No, you can stay. We'll watch something."

She searched my eyes with a hint of concern. "You sure?"

I nodded, rubbing my face with my hands. "Yeah. I just need to pee. Pick a film, I'll be back."

She nodded and I got up to go to the bathroom, using it as a chance to splash some cold water on my face too. I sighed deeply, pushing away my conflicted thoughts for the time being and returning to the couch.

As I took a seat, I noticed some snacks on the table, but the weirdest assortment of them. There were cookies, some carrot sticks, hummus and a bowl of nuts.

"Er... what is this?" I asked Skye with confusion, glancing over at her as she returned from the kitchen with two glasses of juice.

"It's all I could find," she answered, before shooting me a disapproving look. "You really need to go shopping."

I cracked a small smile as she set the glasses on the table and took a seat beside me.

"Hey, there's that smile!" she exclaimed with a satisfactory gun.

I rolled my eyes lightheartedly, stifling my smile, and instead distracted myself with eating some carrot sticks. She grabbed a handful of nuts and got comfortable, pulling her legs up on the couch.

"Thanks," I said softly, gratefully.

"You don't need to thank me," she retorted, glancing at me, but I couldn't look at her without feeling strange.

I leaned back and got comfortable, and Skye started up a film on the TV. It was easy enough to settle in and the film was a well-needed distraction from everything. But naturally, I was falling asleep halfway through it. It didn't help that it was late, I was already pretty tired and Skye was extremely comfortable.

By the time the film ended, I was half out of it, in that weird in between state of awake but asleep. My eyes were closed and I was barely paying attention until Skye sighed from beside me.

"That wasn't that bad, y'know," she decided. "I thought it would be worse given the ratings."

I hummed quietly, acknowledging her words but not really listening.

"You didn't even watch it, did you?"

"I did," I mumbled as convincingly as I could.

She chuckled, her shoulders moving and waking me up in the process. "Liar."

A yawn escaped my lips as I forced myself to sit upright, off her shoulder. She was watching me with amusement.

"Comfy?" she teased.

Too sleepy to care, I answered, "I'd apologise, but it's kind of expected if you let me lay on you."

She laughed wholeheartedly, brightening up the whole night for a moment. "You're lucky I find you comfy too."

I sighed tiredly, sitting on my side and leaning on my elbow, propped up against the back of the couch.

"You feel any better?" she asked, and I looked up at her through my eyelashes.

"A bit," I mumbled. "Thanks."

"Stop thanking me," she said with a soft smile, making me scrunch my face slightly.

"Sorry."

She rolled her eyes playfully, stifling a laugh, and I yawned again as I watched her. It could have been my fatigue-induced state, or the fact that I was hopelessly in love with my best friend, but I couldn't stop admiring how beautiful she looked before me. No makeup, messy hair, sparkling brown eyes, cute smile.

It was wrong of me to stare, wrong of my eyes to trace the arch of her brows, the slope of her nose, the curve of her lips... I'd imagined kissing her many times before, but I'd never wanted to actually do it as much as I did now.

She smiled, oblivious to my daydreams, and mimicked my pose, leaning on her elbow on the back of the couch, way too close to my expression. "Whatcha thinking, huh?" she asked playfully.

My breath hitched as my eyes lowered to her lips, only inches from mine. Time stood still. All it would take is a second, but could I?

No, I couldn't. I couldn't ruin everything because of a silly desire.

Swallowing thickly, I moved back and looked away, acting as nonchalant as I could. "Just tired."

She fell quiet as she sat up straight, and I wondered if she knew what I'd wanted to do. Maybe I'd messed it up anyway. It certainly hadn't helped with my conflicted thoughts.

"I should go," she realised. "You should sleep."

I nodded, unsure what to say, and then I saw her making a move to clear up the snacks on the coffee table.

"it's fine, I'll sort it," I said awkwardly, standing up.

She glanced at me. "You sure?"

I couldn't meet her eyes, too hot with shame. "Yeah."

"Okay," she said softly, before going to the door to pull on her shoes.

I lingered awkwardly until she opened the door, glancing at me briefly.

"Goodnight," she said.

"Night," I muttered.

She left and I closed the door behind her, releasing a deep breath. How had I messed things up so easily? All I could hope was I hadn't made her uncomfortable, but it was impossible. Even staring had overstepped, and it was just like she'd said to me a year ago – it was written all over my face. How utterly embarrassing.

—

That evening haunted me long after, it replaying in my mind over and over like a bad dream. So much that I couldn't bring it in myself to face Skye, not whilst my thoughts were a jumbled mess.

Two weeks passed and I kept our contact to the bare minimum whilst I tried to figure my feelings out. I wasn't sure if I could be her friend anymore, as much as I wanted to be. But it wasn't fair on her if I still had feelings for her.

She messaged me, but I kept my responses vague. My only relief was that she was leaving for her tour in a week, so maybe it would be easier not seeing her as much. Maybe it would've been easier to stop being her friend if I distanced myself long enough.

But it was stupid to think that, not when we'd just reconciled and I thought she wouldn't notice my absence.

I was at my apartment one afternoon when I got an unexpected visit from her. As soon as I opened the door, I raised my brows with surprise.

"Skye? What are you doing here?"

Her eyes met mine sternly. "You're avoiding me."

"What?"

She pushed past me gently to let herself in, leaving me no choice but to close the door after her and spin around.

"At first, I thought you were still upset because of your date with Anna," she started, making me wince, "but then you kept being distance and I just– I don't know what I've done!"

I sighed, feeling stupid for thinking I could get away with it. "You haven't–"

"Don't bullshit me," she snapped, fixing me with a glare. "I'm not stupid."

Her hurt expression forced me to look away, the guilt sinking in.

She took a deep breath before asking in a gentler tone, "What is it? Talk to me."

I tensed my jaw uncomfortably. "Nothing."

"Stop lying," she ordered, before taking my chin and turning my face towards her. Worried eyes found mine. "What is it?"

I pulled back in a knee-jerk reaction, feeling a lump form in my throat. "Don't."

She frowned, confused. "What? Did I do something wrong?"

I sighed deeply, avoiding her gaze. "I can't do this... I'm sorry."

"Do what?"

I swallowed thickly, struggling to find the courage but knowing it needed to be done. "I can't be friends with you anymore."

She paused, taken aback, and her voice broke my heart when she finally spoke. "What? What are you talking about?"

I shook my head, looking down at the floor.

"What?" she repeated, growing impatient, and it only made the whole situation worse.

"I can't..."

"Look at me."

I forced myself to look up, the guilt pressing on my chest when I saw her wounded expression.

"What the hell are you saying?" she asked carefully, searching my gaze. "Is this because of what happened the night of your date? The last time I was here?"

I grimaced at her bluntness, making her tense her jaw. So she'd noticed then.

"It is," she realised.

"You were fucking right, okay?" I spoke abruptly. "A year ago, when we argued and you– you said what you did."

"I was fucking high all the time," she interrupted angrily. "I didn't mean any of it."

"But you did," I retorted, frowning, forcing myself to hold her stare otherwise this was all for nothing. "Deep down, a part of you did and, fuck, it hurt so much because you were right, okay? I– I was fucking in love with you. And I know it was foolish of me, but it was true."

Her eyes widened slightly, stunned, but I couldn't seem to stop now that I'd started.

"It was horrible and it ruined everything and that's why I can't be friends with you. Because I thought I was over it but I'm fucking not, okay? And– and the other night, I didn't mean to make things weird. But my head is a mess and I don't know what to do because all I wanted to do was fucking kiss you, and I know that's wrong, it is. And I'm sorry, but I can't keep being friends with you and put you in this position again. Especially not now."

I was shaking by the time I'd finished, heart racing too fast for me to keep track of. After almost a decade, I'd finally told her the truth. And it didn't feel any more liberating than it should have.

She swallowed hard, looking down with furrowed brows as if trying to digest my admission. I'd been so focused on getting it out of me that I hadn't even had time to anticipate how she could react.

"You were in love with me?" she finally spoke, looking to me with questioning eyes. "You're in love with me?"

I almost scoffed, eyes watering. "Like you didn't know? You said it yourself, Skye..."

She frowned regretfully. "What I said to you that day was awful. It wasn't fair of me. And yes, maybe I did know, but it– I wasn't uncomfortable... I..." She hesitated, before admitting, "I was in love with you too. I just– you deserved better than me. You still do."

I blinked back my tears as I studied her closely, with confusion. There was no way that was true. How could she have thought such a thing?

She stepped forward, slowly lifting her hand to touch my face, gauging my reaction. When I didn't push her away or step back, she cupped my cheek, thumb stroking my cheekbone, and my whole body felt like it was on fire.

"I wanted you to kiss me," she said softly, eyes flickering between mine. "Last time, I– I thought you were going to."

I blinked, taken aback. "What?"

She frowned, looking down momentarily as she said, "I didn't want you to go on that fucking date. But I wasn't going to be selfish and stop you. I just– I care about you a lot, Y/N. You mean the world to me. You always have."

Rendered speechless, I didn't know what to think or say. She'd reacted in a way that I'd never anticipated – never dreamed of – nor thought was possible.

Her dark eyes found mine once more, too close to be anything but a blur of golden flecks.

"I don't want to be friends either," she murmured, before pressing her lips to mine.

My eyes widened with surprise and then she tugged me closer and I instinctively relaxed into her, eyes fluttering close. Her lips were warm and tasted like berries, moving against mine in a perfect rhythm. My hands fell to her hips, goosebumps dancing all over my skin, and I couldn't seem to remember a single thing prior to this.

When we pulled apart for air, every part of my body felt aflame. My lips were tingling and she was still so close, too close for me to find words.

"Maybe things would've been different if I'd been honest in the first place," she spoke softly, breath tickling my lips, only reminding me of the feeling of hers against them.

I didn't know what to say, too stunned by the truth of her feelings.

"I missed you," she admitted, hand lowering from my cheek and to my chest. "It was only two weeks, but I thought I'd ruined everything."

"I'm sorry," I managed to get out, not intending to hurt her.

She shook her head. "Don't be," she assured me, before hugging me tightly.

I let out a quiet breath and wrapped my arms around her, sinking into her embrace. It was still a lot to accept – that she'd loved me too. That she did, even now.

"You haven't said much," she noticed, pulling back with a stifled concern.

"It's just a surprise," I shared, not wanting her to second guess anything. "I really thought... I thought you only ever saw me as a friend. Still trying to process it."

She smiled a little, understanding. "Yeah... I wanted to tell you sooner. Years ago. I almost did. Many times. But everything got bad and it just..." She sighed regretfully. "I didn't want to pull you down with me. That version of me wasn't good enough for you."

I frowned, looking between her eyes. "That's not true."

"It is," she said knowingly. "But it's okay. I want to be better than that girl."

"You are," I said sincerely, taking her hand in mine and squeezing it gently.

Her eyes twinkled as she smiled hopefully. "I hope so. For your sake."

I couldn't help but smile too, touched by how much she cared.

"My tour kicks off at the end of the week, but I'd really like to take you out on a proper date before then," she said, taking my other hand in hers.

"It can wait," I reassured her, "I know it's full on for the next few days–"

"No, no, just one," she cut me off eagerly, squeezing my hands. "Before I have to go and won't see you for ages."

I stifled the urge to laugh. "Okay, but if it's too much, Skye, I can wait until–"

Before I could finish, she leaned forward and kissed me, surprising me for the second time. I was too taken aback to react, and then she pulled away and I felt my cheeks heating up with embarrassment.

"That's got to be my new favourite way of shutting you up," she said with a satisfied grin.

I groaned quietly, flustered, and she laughed at my dismay. I suppose there could have been worse ways.

[clairvoyantcubes]

"Yeah, no. I'm sitting this one out." Mortals do not get to be complacent about the state of their worlds and then throw a collective fit about it once their divine overlords say (and/or do) something that they do not like.

[fazcinatingblog]

New guy: so how long has senior accountant been here?

Me: oh about 4 years

New guy: okay and you've been here since the beginning?

EXCUSE ME?????

[sophie-looks-at-stuff]

A Wolf in the Dragon's Den

Pairing: Aemond x Stark reader

Summary: The Greens have won The Dance of Dragons, and your family has offered your hand to Prince Aemond as a means of forgiveness for your part in the war. But what shall happen when a wolf meets a dragon in its den?

Warnings: SMUT, mdni 18+, p in v, kind of mean Aemond? but he gets better lol, Aegon being Aegon, use of pet names like Little Wolf or My Dragon, fingering, soft to rough sex, uhhh language for sure haha if I missed anything let me know y'all!! It's also not proof read so forgive any mistakes haha

AN: Well ... sorry this took me so long y'all! I guess my summer classes caught up to me a bit but that's ok cause after long last here it is!! A good old-fashioned Aemond x Stark reader fic. I hope you guys enjoy haha, I'm working on a request next, but let me know if there's anything else y'all wanna see! :)

King’s Landing was a hot, humid, fish-smelling shit hole. The warm temperatures were much too hot for your usual furs, heavy cloaks, and skirts. Even your horses were succumbing to the heat, panting more than usual, the poor things. You could have rode in the carriage, along with your mother and younger siblings. But you preferred horseback, the wind in your hair, and the breeze on your skin. Although, the air here was salty and thick. 

Your father and brother, Cregan, rode beside you. “Hells, could it be any hotter,” your father murmured under his breath, sweat beading on his brow.

“Those vapid Targaryen’s couldn’t bear it any other way, something about the ‘dragon’s blood–” 

“Careful brother, they could have your head for that–” You chuckled a bit, but you all knew there was truth to the statement. The Dance of Dragons had proved as much, the Greens' force and display of violence was wide and plentiful. “Rash and brash” as your father had put it once. Especially that of your betrothed, Prince Aemond One-eye Targaryen. Or “the one-eyed cunt” as many northerners took to calling him. The betrothal, much to your dismay, had been arranged by your father, in a weak attempt to repair your house's relationship with the monarch. 

“Hmph, well if I had my way we wouldn’t even be here at all. Those ‘dragons’ wouldn’t survive a damn minute in the North. Their blood would freeze, and then maybe we’d all be rid of their problems.” Cregan said the word “dragons” with a mocking tone, a scoff in his voice. 

“That’s enough, your sister is right boy, they would have your head for that. Or perhaps feed you to one of their dragon’s” And with that, your father put an end to that potentially treasonous conversation. Cregan however, had muttered something under his breath about “told you to stop calling me boy”. 

Having had enough of the bickering, you tapped the sides of your horse, trotting ahead by several paces. Your dire wolf, Snowcap, had evidently decided to part temporarily from the group, to hunt or to shade herself you didn’t know. But you couldn’t blame her either way, the journey from the Winterfell to King’s Landing was a long one, and not a particularly comfortable one.

The gates to the Red Keep came into site ahead of you, the streets leading up to it peppered with Gold Cloaks and guards. The people of King’s Landing pay little mind to your small party, too busy with their buying and selling. You had chosen to travel light, there were no copious amounts of banners flying, or any regalia at all really. You would be surrounded by plenty of that kind of thing soon enough. 

To say that your greeting was lackluster, would be an understatement. Ser Criston Cole stood beside the Dowager Queen Alicent atop the Red Keep’s stairs. Besides another dozen or so Gold Cloaks, that was what there was. Cregan scoffs in annoyance from beside you, he must have caught up to you somewhere along the way. 

“He cannot even come to meet his bride-to-be, what a disrespect, pathetic,” You made a bit of a noise beside him, urging him to keep his mouth shut. You were in the dragon’s den now, who knows who could be listening in? Another glance around the unfamiliar faces does confirm your brother’s statement. Your betrothed was nowhere to be found. Even the training yard remained empty, and from what you’d heard, Prince Aemond could often be found there. 

As you dismount your horse, Queen Alicent begins to make her way down the steps, towards you and the rest of your family. Your father and eldest brother move to stand to your left and right. Your mother and younger siblings finally join you, to your left. Your mother gives you a warm smile and a pat on the shoulder as she moves to stand beside your father. You curtsey as the Queen approaches, she takes your hand in hers. Her palms are soft and warm, gentleness radiates from her person. 

“My Lady Stark, how nice it is to finally see you arrive. I hope the journey south wasn’t too unpleasant” She gives you a small smile, not as lovely as your mother’s, but kind nonetheless. 

“It was alright, long, very long, but alright,” You say, matching her smile. Queen Alicent releases your hand and carries on to greet the rest of your family, Ser Criston following closely behind her. Still no sign of your betrothed, nor his elder brother, the King. Although you supposed he must be occupied with his duties on the Small Council. You know you will hear an earful from your brother later on the matter. Had Creagn been born a Lady, he would indeed circulate most of the gossip around Court.  

— — — — — 

The Red Keep was massive in comparison to your expectations of its size. The halls appear more like an intricate intertwining of mazes rather than passageways. Your footsteps echo and reverberate off of the stones. Tapestries depicting great moments in Targaryen history line the walls. Lit torches line the halls, the windows, and the arches looking out onto bustling the city below. Servants, guards, and other nobles wondered about, gossiping, rushing to and fro. Ladies, lords, and servants alike whispered to one another as you and your family walked by, being led by Ser Cristin and the Queen. 

It was no secret that your brother had sent Northeners and Graybeards to fight in Rhaenyra’s name. “Fight like Northerners they will,” your brother had said once. And they did indeed, the bitter cold and long winters having hardened them into mighty soldiers and fighters. Barbarians, some called them. Your father had handed over the duties of Winterfell to Cregan as he grew older. Your father had hardly left the North in all his years of life, but he had become confused and temperamental in his older age. It had ultimately been Cregan’s choice to join the Blacks, a decision he is now trying to repair. Or it would be more accurate to say you were trying to repair. Since you were a wolf being offered up to the dragons for slaughter. Perhaps the only reason that the Greens hadn’t burned down Winterfell, and your family around with it, is because they know the importance of your family to Westeros. And if the North falls, we all fall, and no one knew the North better than the Starks. 

As you continue on your walk through the winding halls of the Red Keep, you finally come to stand before a set of doors. Modest in comparison to some of the others you’ve passed by. Metal filigree winds its way up from the handles like vines, the rest of the door was rather lackluster. Ser Cristin steps forward, dutifully opening the doors for your party.

There in the middle of the small council room, stood your betrothed. After long last you finally laid eyes on your betrothed. Aemond stood proud and tall, his long silver hair pulled back into one thick braid, tied together at the bottom with a strip of black leather. His back was turned towards you, hands clasped behind him. He was dressed in what appeared to be his riding gear, perhaps he had just come back from a flight with Vhagar.

“Aemond, there you are. You missed the arrival of your betrothed,” Alicent chided her son, who could not be less interested in the conversation at hand. 

“Mhm,” He hummed, “I was–” He paused thinking, “ –busy”. From beside you, you can hear Cregan scoff a bit. Your mother puts a warning hand against his back, he was never one for formalities. But then again, most Northerners weren’t. The Prince finally turned towards your party. The famous leather eye patch covering the sapphire in his socket. The faint pink lines of his scar peeked out on either end of the patch. He’s beautiful, you think, in a macabre sort of way, but beautiful nonetheless. He looked ethereal standing there, backlight from the evening sun shining through the windows. 

His lavender eye rakes itself over your form, as your mother pushes you forward a bit, to better meet his gaze. He lets out another hum, of approval, or disapproval, you cannot tell. A cord of annoyance strikes through you, not having the wherewithal to be subjected to such petty scrutiny. 

Alicent places a guiding hand on your waist, walking you forward, closer to the One-eyed Prince. You curtsey once you reach him, the lessons your mother taught you as a girl kicking in and taking over.

“I did not know you Northerners were capable of such manners,” Aemond scoffed as he said this as if he was telling a bad joke. Your teeth grind together, hands clenching into fists in your skirts. Behind you you can hear the scuffle of footsteps, and then a halt. Presumably, your brother acting out again, or perhaps your father this time. Typically, your family wouldn’t care much about appearances, but you were all treading on thin ice, and you knew it. 

Rising back up to your full height, which annoyingly still made you have to look up at him, you say: “We are rather steeped in our traditions in the North my Prince. We value honor decency, and the truth of one's word,” You glare at him through your lashes as you say this last bit. If it were not for the threat upon your entire house and bannermen then you would not be here, wolves were not creatures made to bow, even in the face of a dragon. 

Surprisingly, Aemond lets out a hardy laugh. You chance a glance over at his mother, she looks to be just as stunned as the rest of you. Silence befalls the room. 

“Smart mouth you have, huh, my Lady Stark?” He chuckles some more, then leans closer, intending his next words to only be for you. “Watch your tongue in my court, or I shall have it served to you on a platter at our wedding feast,” and with that, he straightens, and walks away. Yelling something over his shoulder about the training yard, and Ser Cole come with. 

“I–” Alicent begins to say, but you cut her off, rather impolitely, “ It’s quite alright Your Grace,” You offer her a smile. You liked Alicent, the poor woman had been through enough as it is, and the arrogance of her son wasn’t any help. “I am just pleased to finally have arrived here at court, and to settle in at my new home,” It was most certainly a half-truth, but there was no need to make tensions rise any higher. 

— — — — —

The following next few days were spent quite the same. Your little party with the guidance of Alicent took tours of the Red Keep as well as its many gardens and docks. One afternoon Alicent and Queen Helaena accompanied your mother and yourself down to one of the traveling markets of King’s Landing. It was rather grand, merchants coming from all across Westeros to sell their wares. Helaena had shown you a favorite merchant of hers, a man who made intricate gold and silver jewelry in the shapes of little bugs and small creatures. You had purchased a ring depicting the head of a dire wolf.

Aemond had remained illusive, he only graced everyone with his presence at meals. Choosing to sit far away from you, his brother, the King, talking about who knows what was next to him, but all the while his lavender eye remained fixed on you. It made you squirm a bit, being under his heavy gaze. Overthinking how you raised your fork to your lips, or where you held your cup of wine, on the stem or the rim as you’d always done. 

With your wedding on the morrow, your nerves became more frayed than usual. Your mind is plagued with silly thoughts like: Will he think I’m pretty? Will he learn to love me? But as soon as those thoughts enter they are replaced with others such as: Why should I care? He’s been nothing but unpleasant and rude. But the younger, little girl in you still hopes to have a fruitful marriage, one filled with respect and love. Much like that of your mother and father’s. Although you know now that that is an anomaly in this world. 

Your night is filled with restless sleep. Your body follows a pattern of waking for an hour and then sleeping for another. The heat of King’s Landing did not aid in this, the covers bunched down by your feet as you tossed and turned. Shortly after the sun had risen, maids had burst into your room, wedding gown in hand. You spent the next couple of hours being dotted upon like the princess you were about to become. 

It wasn’t a large service by any means, not that you minded. Something smaller and more intimate was more to your liking. Your father walked you up the long aisle to meet your soon-to-be husband. Aemond stood at the altar in the sept, his house cloak in his hands to drape around your shoulders. The closer you got to him the more you could see his eye attempt to devour your appearance. Surprisingly, he gently held your small hands in his. His fingers and palms were calloused from many hours of training with a sword, and flights upon Vhagar. He was a handsome man you thought, too bad his arrogance made him ugly. Perhaps a bit naively you thought, I can change that. But maybe it was just wishful thinking. Your mind already trying to fix something potentially broken. 

Aemond’s lips touched yours, forever sealing your vows to one another. Unlike his hands, they were smooth and soft, and uncharacteristically gentle. He was a good kisser you think, but then again the only other boy you’d kissed was a farm hand back at Winterfell when you were much younger. 

Aemond thought you were beautiful, the moment he laid eyes upon his Little Wolf he thought perhaps this union will not be one of suffering and strife. At least she will be pretty to fuck. As his lips touched yours in the sept in front of the Gods, he tasted honey and black tea. You smell like vanilla, spices, and what Aemond assumed fire to smell like. His hand came to fist in your hair, possessively anchoring you to him.

When you part you suck in a breath of air, cheeks red. Such a sultry kiss in front of your family and the Gods caused a rush of embarrassment to course through you. Aemond however, gave you a wicked smirk in response to the color in your cheeks. Still clutching your hand tightly in his, he guides his new bride down and out of the sept, to return to the Red Keep for the evening's festivities. 

— — — — —

The great hall was filled with the aroma of cooked meats, potatoes, wine, and the heavy laughter of your party guests. Your mother and father sat with you and your new family at the head table, looking down slightly upon the rest of the partygoers. Where the ceremony may have been smaller, the feast after it was not. Several more houses and bannermen of your brother’s came to celebrate the historic union. Boltons, Lannisters, Freys, Greyjoys, Hightowers, and the like filled the hall. You chose to remain seated beside your new husband, the ever-dutiful wife. You knew and had seen many times how rowdy Northmen could become at such a venue. You preferred to keep your distance, although it was not unusual to find you dancing with your younger siblings back home at Winterfell. 

By the looks of it, your brother had loosened up a bit, a tanker of ale clutched in one hand.

The king had joined him and the others closer in age for what looked to be some kind of drinking game. Meanwhile, Aemond’s hand absent-mindedly made its home on your thigh, stroking up and down. The gesture was a stark contrast to his previous words and actions. 

“You have barely eaten wife,” He noted as he glanced at you, “You must be well full and ready for what I have planned for you.” The same small smirk crosses his lips once again. Leaving you with a funny feeling in your stomach. But you can’t help the small wave of heat that strikes your core. Your mother once told you that men can become rather possessive of their women, and it can be quite cumbersome most of the time. Restricting one's freedom, constantly wanting you in their presence, she had said to expect this with someone like Aemond. But she mentioned that sometimes, in the confines of your marital chambers, it can be very — riveting to lay with such a man. It wasn’t until now that you began to understand what she had meant.

“I am afraid I have no appetite, my lord husband. My nerves do not allow me to eat it seems,” Aemond’s gaze darkened at the use of the word “husband”. Prince Aemond was not a man who did anything halfway, if he were to do anything, it was to be done fully without exception. A wave of dark possession seeps into his gut. He had already claimed a dragon but now he wishes to claim a wolf too. 

From across the hall, his thoughts are abruptly interrupted by his brother's drunken yelling. 

“ – the bedding ceremony! Come now little brother it is time for the bedding ceremony,” Aemond’s fists clenched, the hand on your skirts bunching in the fabric. “Will you fuck her like a hound brother? Woof Woof hahaha,” The hall had fallen eerily silent. Aemond’s chair clatters to the ground from the force of his standing. From beside Aegon, you see your brother place his cup of ale on the table, hand reaching for his sword. Your father is already a step ahead of him, hand on the hilt of his dagger. Your mother goes to stand in front of your younger siblings, shielding them. If you had no appetite before you certainly don’t have one now, your hands had gone cold and clammy, your head feeling light at the insults thrown your way. From beside you, Alicent stands, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. 

“That is enough Aegon,” She begins to say.

“Oh come now Mother it was only a jest. Can I not be proud of my little brother?” Alicent opens her mouth to respond but Aemond beats her to it.

“You can take your ‘jests’ down to your whores on the Steer of Silk but you will not speak in such a way in front of my wife, let alone her family.” His voice is dangerously calm, ready to snap, and bubble over into pure rage at any given moment. 

“Always so uptight little brother, as if someone has shoved a stick up your ass–” It is your turn to stand now, the feet of your chair scrapping the stone floor beneath you. 

“I am quite tired, husband will you escort me back to our chambers?” You look at Aemond, a stern, silent plea evident on your features. 

“Certainly wife,” He responds with the same tantalizing calmness. Offering you his hand, which you take, grasping on tighter than perhaps necessary, you both make your way out of the great hall. Leaving the mess that is Aegon behind for someone else to clean up. It was your wedding day after all and you needn’t worry yourself with such matters. 

The walk to your marital chambers is quiet and tense. Your hand still firmly grasping Aemond’s, although he now squeezes yours back. The heels of your shoes echo off of the palace walls in an attempt to keep up with Aemond’s long strides. After an eternity of uncertainty at what was to come next, you reach Aemond’s, and now your, chambers. The room is large and furnished quite cozily. A large four-poster bed makes its home in the center back wall of the room. A table of what looks like chess pieces and a map sits by the open windows.

Aemond however reaches for the pitcher of wine on another small side table, pouring a cup for himself and downing it in one go. He pours a second, and a third for you. He offers it to you, you shake your head, afraid you cannot stomach the drink after what had just happened. 

“I am sorry–” You break the silence. Aemond raises a hand to silence you. 

“It is I who should apologize. My brother is a foul and evil creature who feeds off of the discomfort of others. But never had he dared to do so so boldly before,” He pauses, taking a sip of wine. “I have been absent since you arrived at the Keep and I believe I owe you an explanation,” 

You cross your arms over your chest, the air coming in from the harbor seeming chilly now. “Yes I do believe you do,” you say.

Aemond quirks an eyebrow at your sass, a small smile spreading across his lips. “They told me women of the North have sharp tongues and poor manners,” You scoff, his smile widens, “but I must say I’m rather enjoying that thus far.”  He moves toward you, one hand still holding his cup of wine, the other reaching up to cup your chin, turning your face to meet his eye. 

“I must admit that when I learned that your treacherous brother’s offered your hand to me I was quite – unnerved. I had no desire to marry, let alone marry a traitor,” A cord of anger courses through you, and Aemond notices this. He sets his cup down on the table next to you, the one with the chess pieces. Your eyes follow the movement, better taking in the contents of the table, a war game perhaps, you think. 

“I didn’t want to be chained to a dull, meek little pup for the rest of my life,” His now free hand comes to rest on your hip, and his thumb and forefinger move from your chin, to trace the shape of your lips, then your jaw, and down the column of your neck. “But I must say, that you have certainly exceeded my expectations. I shall enjoy breeding you,” His alkaline nose moves to smell your hair, and you inhale a sharp gasp at the vulgarity of his words. You feel him smile into your neck as he continues his ministrations, placing the whisper of a kiss here and there.  

“I do not understand you. You show me kindness, even apologizing for the acts of your brother, but then you insult me and my heritage. What is it that you want from me, Prince Aemond Targaryen?” You question him, hoping your voice comes out as steady as you command it. Aemond pulls back laughing, both hands now finding purchase on your hips, he begins to guide you backward towards the bed. The backs of your knees hit the wooden frame. 

“Perhaps I wish to see how far I can push you Little Wolf. I enjoy your banter and wish to hear more of it. It pleases me that I’ve been matched to a woman who is not afraid to speak to me in such a way. People so quickly cower and whisper when I am near, it is refreshing to be met head-on.” His blunt statement surprises you, you had not expected such a confession from the Prince.

“Perhaps–” You pause, choosing your next words carefully, “ – perhaps then we can learn to love one another in this marriage.” You almost whisper the last bit, uncertainty in your voice. 

“Yes, I think perhaps we can,” Aemond whispers back to you, his lips brushing yours as he speaks. The tension in the air is palpable, maybe he was waiting for you to make the first move. To see how far he could push you as he had said a moment ago. Deciding to test this hypothesis you stand on your tiptoes, slotting your lips against his, just as you did in the sept. A hungry growl leaves Aemond’s throat using his grip on your waist to pull you flush against his chest. He kisses you back with ferocity. 

A hand grapes your throat, guiding you down towards the bed, your back hitting the feather mattress. You gasp against Aemond’s lips, swallowing the sound, he continues his assault. His hand against your throat tightened, although not unpleasantly, heat rushing to your core. His lips begin to retrace their path down your jaw and the column of your neck, biting and sucking red marks in their wake. 

“Aemond– someone will see–” He parts from you only for a second, looking into your eyes. 

“Let them, after all, isn’t that what my imputant brother wanted proof of our coupling? Perhaps it will give him something to pleasure himself to–” The thought makes Aemond’s cock harden impossibly more in his trousers. The fact that he could pleasure his wife to a level that his brother could only imagine, was nearly enough to drive him over the edge. 

“Husband that is not reason enough to leave –” You're interrupted by a particularly sharp bite to the collarbone. A moan of pain and pleasure escapes past your lips, spurring your new husband onwards. With a sharp tug, Aemond pulls the bodice of your dress down, exposing your chest to him. He murmurs a simple “beautiful” under his breath before latching onto one of your nipples, sucking and nibbling at the flesh. Your back arches slightly in response, desperate to bring yourself closer to his touch. 

As he continues his ministrations he begins to unlace the remainders of your gown, shimmying them down your body, to pool at his feet. You feel his calloused hands roam up and down your body. Sketching your shape into his memory. His fingers knead the flesh of your breasts, your thighs, your ass. Finally, he swipes his fingers between your folds, you emit a soft whine at the contact. 

He raises an eyebrow, “I’ve barely even touched you yet Little Wolf, and you're already soaking my fingers. I can’t wait to feel you around my cock–” He trails off, mesmerized as he begins to pump two fingers in and out of your core. Your cheeks flush a deep scarlet at his words. Your hands find purchase in the sheets of your new bed. 

“Oh– oh Aemond –” You whisper in between breaths. 

“Say it again, say my name again,” It’s almost a plea, begging to hear it again.

“Husband– Aemond– My Dragon –” Aemond harshly withdraws his fingers from you. You nearly scream at the loss of the delicious contact. Discarding the remainder of his clothes, tossing them haphazardly to the side, Aemond grabs you by the ankles pulling you down towards the end of the bed where he stands. You catch site of his cock as he gives it a few tugs in preparation. The tip angry and red, glazed in his arousal for you. Your eyes widen a bit, your mother never prepared you for what might happen should your lord husband be too – big. 

Aemond sees your moment of concern, he positions himself over you, cock aligned at your entrance. His hand carresses your cheek, as he says “I shall be gentle, if you ask me to.Give you time to adjust –” 

“No,” Your answer surprises the both of you. “I want you, I am not some small flower, I can take what you give me. I want whatever you shall give me Husband.” You lean up to kiss the tip of his nose, as if to reassure him that what you say is true.

“Seven fucking Hells, you are something did you know that?” He rests his forehead agaisnt yours, as he ever so slowly begins to sheath himself inside of you. 

You let out a small giggle, whispering back “I know–” 

Aemond bottoms out inside of you, his cock fully enclosed by the walls of your cunt. He could die like this, he thinks. Cock sheathed in the cunt of his gorgeous Little Wolf. Your walls squeeze him perfectly, he needs to take a moment to catch his breath. He had fucked women before, whores in the Street of Silk. His brother having dragged him there once, and to seek some kind of perverted comfort there during The Dance. But none of them compared to this moment, none of them –

“Husband, Gods move please,” Aemond is brought out of his thoughts by your pleas, you voice hoarse with want and need. 

“With pleasure Little Wolf.” He begins to thrust, moving his hips at a slow and steady pace. It’s for his own sake as much as it is yours. He’s afraid that should he move to fast he won’t be able to carry on for very long. Beneath him your hands clutch the sheets of his bed, your cheeks are flushed the most lovely red, your hair played out in a halo around you on the pillow. If he could burn the image into his mind forever, then he certainly would. 

Aemond’s cock stretches you out perfectly, boardering on pain and pleasure, but only for the first moments. His thrusts are steady and calculated, but never the less delicious. The movement causes friction on your clit, sending a wave of pleasure to your core. It’s lovely, you think, but you want more. Moving from their place in the sheets, your hands settle on his hips, urging him to move faster.

“Aemond– more,” His lilac eye flits up to your face, asking for silent reassurance that that is indeed what you want. “For Gods sake Husband, move faster please I–” Not needing to be told twice, Aemond picks up speed. Where his thrusts were slow and sensual, now they are fast and hard. He fucks you like a man starved, as if he was told this is the last woman he will ever lay with. Which in his case, was true, since you were married after all. 

Your tits bounce at the force of his movement, your hands that were previously on his hips, begin to rake down his back. Your legs come up to circle his waist, drawing him impossibly closer. 

“You like this then, huh, Little Wolf. Treated like my own personal whore, to fuck how I please?” The sounds that fill the room are egregious, skin against skin, moans, whimpers, and screams. 

“Louder Little Wolf, howl for me, let the whole Keep hear how I pleasure you so,” Perhaps that same small part of him wanted his brother to hear. As if Aemond had something to prove to him, that he made a better husband, a better lover than Aegon ever will. 

“Aemond, Aemond, oh Aemond–” You chant his name like a mantra. His cock hits that sweet spot inside of you, you gasp eyes widening at the feeling. 

“Seems I’ve found where you feel pleasure best. Is that right Little Wolf?” 

“Yes, Gods Aemond, if you don’t stop, I’m gonna –” Hearing that was all the motivation he needed to pick up his pace even more. To fuck you even harder than before. He grips your hips pulling you closer to him at the end of the bed, from this angle he has full control over your body, and can fuck you as you so desire him to.

The force of his thrusts, and the friction against your clit cause you to see stars behind your eyes. With one last scream of his name, you cum around his cock. Your walls pulling him in, attempting to root him to you. Aemond however, does not let up, chasing afer his own release. 

“Just a moment more, my sweet, perfect Little Wolf. I’m going to breed you, and watch you swell with my pups. Wouldn’t you love that huh?” Aemond continues to piston in and out of you, the feeling almost too much, but still just as lovely as before. Nonsensical moans leave your lips, and Aemond laughs at you babbling, although not rudely. 

His hips begin to stutter as he nears his end, his heavy balls slapping against your cunt. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” He mutters under his breath as you feel his seed coat your walls. The feeling warm, and full and lovely. Aemond remains seated inside of you as he rests his forehead once more to yours. You kiss his nose again, a new favorite spor perhaps. He offers you a small smile in return.

You both groan as he pulls out. Your cunt perfectly overstimulated and happy. Wordlessly Aemond leaves the bed, and begins to rummage around some drawers in one of the many pieces of furniture in the room. You worry for a brief moment that he will leave, and that he meant none of what he said. But as he brings a damp cloth between your thighs to clean you, your worries wash away. He tosses the rag aside, to be dealt with on the morrow. For now, all he wanted was to lay with his wife in his arms as he drifts off to sleep. 

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you as you move to covers to lie beneath them. Aemond pulls you to him, tucking the top of your head under his chin, he kisses your hair. You both think that perhaps this marriage will be fruitful, that over time you will learn to love one another. It seems as if you both are on a lovely start for that though as is. 

“Good night ñuha jorrāeliarzy (my beloved),” Aemond mutters into your hair. 

“Sleep well, My Dragon,” you say in response. You both drift off into a peaceful sleep, held comfortably in each other's arms. No one knew what the morrow would bring, let alone a fortnight from now. But you both knew you would see it through together as equals, husband and wife, dragon and wolf.

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@helaenaluvr @anukulee @darylandbethfanforever9 @stuckinaf4nfiction

[its-avalon-08]

say something, say anything (ln4)

summary -> lando and y/n got into a massive agrguement and he yelled at her. she leaves to get some space and he is left to pick up the pieces.

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, tears, comfort

The air crackled with tension in Lando's sleek apartment. Dinner plates remained untouched, the remnants of a playful afternoon at the Monaco harbor replaced by a suffocating silence. Y/N, her back ramrod straight, finally broke it.

"I can't believe you said that to Daniel," she said, voice tight.

Lando scoffed, pushing back from the table. "Come on, Y/N, it was just a joke."

"A pretty cutting one, aimed at someone who's actually struggling this season," she countered. "And in front of everyone, no less."

"He should be able to take a jab," Lando mumbled, his playful demeanor replaced by a defensive scowl.

"That's not the point! It's not funny to poke fun at someone's performance, especially a teammate."

"Oh, come on," Lando's voice rose a notch. "Don't pretend you haven't laughed at some of Ricciardo's antics yourself."

"That's different! It's all light-hearted banter, not publicly belittling someone on a bad day."

Lando slammed his fist on the table, the sudden noise making Y/N flinch. "Look, will you just fucking drop it? It's not a big of a goddamn deal."

The anger in his voice caught Y/N off guard. Tears welled up in her eyes. "That's not how you talk to me, Lando."

His expression softened a fraction. "Y/N, I—"

"No," she cut him off, wiping at her eyes. "This is fucking childish. I'm going for a walk."

She grabbed her purse and stormed out, leaving Lando staring after her, a knot of guilt tightening in his stomach. He waited for a beat, then pulled out his phone, his heart hammering in his chest as he dialed your number.

One ring. Two rings. Voicemail.

Frustration bubbled up. He tried again, the same result. He slammed his phone down on the table, his anger returning.

He fumed for a while, then finally dialed again. This time, you picked up.

"Y/N," he started, relief flooding his voice.

"What, Lando?" Your voice was cool, devoid of its usual warmth.

"Look, I'm sorry about earlier," he said, forcing a lightness he didn't feel. "It was a stupid joke, and I shouldn't have said it."

"An apology would've been nice back at the apartment, before I had to practically walk out," you countered.

"Yeah, well, you could've just talked to me instead of storming off like a—"

He stopped himself, realizing where that was going. There was a heavy silence.

"Don't call me immature, Lando," you said, your voice barely a whisper.

"It's kind of immature to walk out on a conversation just because you're upset," he retorted, defensiveness creeping back in.

"Oh, so now it's my fault for being upset by your lack of empathy?"

"I have empathy, Y/N! But I also know how to laugh things off sometimes. You need to lighten up geez."

The line went dead. Lando stared at the phone, his frustration morphing into something close to despair. He'd messed up, royally. He knew you weren't the type to throw a tantrum, but walking out after he yelled? That was bad. Really bad.

He sank onto the couch, burying his face in his hands. He needed to fix this, but how? Maybe some flowers, your favorite chocolates… but that felt like a band-aid on a gaping wound. He needed to do better. He just hoped you'd give him the chance.

a little later

Y/N wandered the park, tears drying on her cheeks, leaving a trail of saltiness. Her phone buzzed incessantly with Lando's calls, but she kept it silenced. She just needed some space to process the anger and hurt. As she rounded a corner, she bumped into a familiar figure.

"Oh, Y/N! Hey!" boomed Daniel's voice, his usual infectious energy dimmed. Heidi, his girlfriend, greeted her with a warm smile.

Y/N felt a fresh wave of guilt. "Hey, guys," she managed, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. The puffiness around her eyes must've been a dead giveaway.

"Everything alright?" Daniel asked, his brow furrowing with concern. "You look like you've been crying."

Y/N quickly blinked away any threatening tears. "Oh, no, it's just allergies. Hay fever's a nightmare this time of year." It was a lame excuse, and they both knew it.

Heidi, perceptive soul she was, placed a comforting hand on Y/N's shoulder. "Are you sure? You can tell us if something's wrong."

Y/N hesitated for a moment, the urge to confide in them strong. But Lando's immaturity and the sting of his words still felt raw. "Honestly, it's nothing a good night's sleep won't fix. Thanks for your concern, though. It means a lot."

Before they could press further, Y/N shifted uncomfortably. "Actually, there's something I wanted to say." She turned to Daniel, her voice sincere. "I'm so sorry about Lando's comment earlier. It was completely out of line, and I know you're working incredibly hard."

Daniel gave her a sad smile. "No worries, Y/N. I appreciate you sticking up for me." He patted her hand lightly. "Just tell Lando to ease up on the… team spirit, shall we say?"

Y/N gave a weak laugh, unable to meet his eyes fully. "I'll try."

With a forced farewell, she turned and walked away, leaving Daniel and Heidi to exchange a worried glance.

Daniel, phone pressed to his ear, marched purposefully towards his car. "Lando? Speak to me."

There was a nervous pause on the other end. "Hey, mate," Lando said, his voice strained.

"Don't 'hey, mate' me," Daniel cut him off, his voice low and firm. "What happened with Y/N?"

Lando flinched at the sharpness in Daniel's tone. He mumbled a vague explanation, trying to downplay the situation. Daniel, however, wasn't having it.

"Listen, Lando," Daniel interrupted, his voice heavy with disappointment. "I know things haven't been going great for me this season. But that doesn't give you the right to take a jab at my performance, especially in front of everyone. You know better than that."

He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "And from the way Y/N sounded, it seems things escalated beyond a 'joke'. You know she cares about you, right?"

Lando mumbled incoherently, a knot of shame tightening in his stomach. Daniel didn't need to hear his answer.

"Just… sort it out," Daniel said with a sigh. "And for goodness sake, apologize properly. She deserves it."

The line went dead, leaving Lando staring at his phone, the weight of his actions hitting him hard. He'd hurt Y/N, embarrassed Daniel, and created unnecessary tension within the team. Now, he had to fix it, but where to even begin?

Panic gnawed at Lando's insides. He'd called Y/N a dozen times, each unanswered ring echoing his growing fear. He couldn't believe he'd let things escalate so far. To make matters worse, her phone's location service was disabled, adding another layer of frustration.

He knew her usual haunts, the park being a top contender. Throwing on a cap and sunglasses, he jumped into his car, speeding through the city streets. Every corner looked the same, his heart pounding with a frantic rhythm. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spotted a familiar figure on a park bench, a discarded coffee cup beside her.

He parked haphazardly and sprinted across the grass, his chest heaving. Y/N, her back turned, didn't even turn her head when she heard his approach.

"Y/N," he said, voice ragged. "Hey, please listen to—"

She remained stubbornly silent, staring intently at a group of pigeons strutting across the grass. Lando felt defeated, his shoulders slumping. "Look, I know I messed up. Big time."

Still no response. He felt like a fool, rambling on to a brick wall.

"What I said to Daniel, it was stupid and insensitive. And then yelling at you… that was just… I don't even know what I was thinking. You didn't deserve that."

He took a deep breath, finally registering the hurt on her face, even from behind. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. Can you please forgive me?"

The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating. Just as Lando felt all hope drain away, Y/N finally spoke. "You know what, Lando? You hurt me. A lot."

Her voice, though quiet, held an unexpected edge of strength. It was a wake-up call, and Lando felt a surge of gratitude that she hadn't shut him out completely.

"I know," he confessed, his voice thick with remorse. "I feel terrible about it. Please, just talk to me."

A long, agonizing silence followed. Finally, Y/N sighed, a flicker of something softer returning to her eyes. "Alright," she said, finally facing him. "But you better be sincere, Lando Norris."

Relief washed over him like a tidal wave. He knelt before her, taking her hand in his. "More sincere than you can imagine. I value you, Y/N. You're… everything to me."

His voice cracked slightly, and he saw a flicker of empathy cross her face. "Just… don't take that for granted, okay?"

He squeezed her hand, his heart overflowing. "Never. Never again. Can you forgive me?"

She looked at him for a long moment, her gaze searching his. Slowly, a hint of a smile played on her lips. "Fine," she conceded, a playful glint returning to her eyes. "But on one condition."

Lando grinned, hope blooming in his chest. "Anything."

"No more insensitive jokes about teammates, especially when you know they're struggling. And no more yelling when we fight."

He chuckled, relief turning into pure joy. "Deal. In fact, I'll bake Daniel a giant apology cake. How does that sound?"

Y/N laughed, a beautiful sound that chased away the last remnants of tension. "Sounds like a plan."

He stood up, pulling her into a tight embrace. The scent of her perfume filled his senses, a comforting balm to his soul. As they held each other, the anger and hurt melted away, replaced by a deep sense of love and understanding.

He leaned in, his lips brushing softly against hers. The kiss was hesitant at first, filled with unspoken apologies and renewed devotion. As they deepened the kiss, a sense of peace settled over them.

When they finally pulled away, breathless and smiling, Y/N snuggled closer, resting her head on his shoulder. With his arm wrapped around her, they sat in comfortable silence, the warmth of the afternoon sun basking them in its glow. They had a long way to go, but for now, they were together, and that was all that mattered.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl.

Synopsis - The Universe shows you your soulmate when it feels like you need them most. When you least expect it, you're given yours - Bucky Barnes. Your Dad's best friend. You can try to refuse it all you like; but the Universe wants what it wants. There's no denying fate.

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 5.1k

Warnings - cursing. sexual content towards the end. mild alcohol consumption. age gap. smut in next chapter(s).

Author's Note - part one is finally here!! thank you so much to everyone who asked to be tagged, and who liked and reblogged the masterlist. i am SO excited to share this with you. i've built this world in my head and trust me it is gorgeous - salty ocean breezes, sunsoaked sailboats and billowing white linen shirts. i hope you can lose yourself in my little seaside town with bucky for the time it takes you to read this, just as i did while writing it. i can't wait to write more of this series for you x

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Requests. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

next chapter (two).

Tethering /tɛð(ə)rɪŋ/

An event in which two soulmates are bound together forever. Only occurs when the Universe decides it is time. No sooner, no later.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The gentle ocean breeze gives you a moment of respite from the scorching sun that's beating down. You're half asleep, laying on the cool tile of your balcony when your phone rings.

"Babe! Babe! Babe!"

"Lacie? Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"I am freaking out right now, oh my god. I didn't know who to call. You'll never guess what just happened to me!"

You can guess. In fact, you already have.

Lacie's Tethering. It's finally happened.

You're taught, growing up, that your Tethering is the biggest moment of your life. It shapes who you are forever. Sets you on your eternal path. You're presented with your soulmate in a big display of love and affection and metaphorical fireworks. It's supposed to be magical.

You wish people would shut up about it.

The World seems to be split into two categories - the people that have been Tethered, and the people that haven't.

You fall into the latter.

You're repeatedly told it'll happen one day. It'll happen when the time is right. It'll happen when you least expect it.

You're not sure you ever want it to happen.

The idea that the Universe determines the person you're with forever has never sat right with you. What happened to free will? What happened to personal preference? You believe you should at least have a choice in the matter. It's your future, after all.

Not everyone shares the same sentiment.

"Babe, you still there?"

Lacie's excitement filled voice pulls you back to reality.

"Yeah, I'm here."

"Are you busy? Can you meet me for coffee, like, now?"

You take a deep breath and plaster a fake smile on your face.

"Sure. I'll see you in ten."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Oh my god babe, it was just incredible! You won't even believe it. There's nothing like it, truly."

You remind yourself quickly that Lacie is your best friend, and that you owe it to her to be happy for her. Personal feelings about soulmates aside.

"Tell me all about it, Lace!" you encourage, grabbing a hold of her hand excitedly.

The blonde girl squeals before shuffling closer to you, pressing her knees against yours.

"Okay, so. Picture this. I'm at my gym, doing my usual routine. I'm wearing my super cute pink Lulu Lemon set, you know the one with the flowers?"

She waits for you to nod in affirmation before she continues.

"So, I accidentally drop a weight on the ground, and it makes the biggest noise. I'm super embarrassed, and I'm trying to pick it up, but it's so heavy. And then, the hottest guy I have ever seen appears. Like, seriously gorgeous."

As much as you despise the whole soulmate thing, you can't deny how happy Lacie seems. She's almost vibrating with it, bouncing up and down in her seat.

"He comes over and picks it up for me, sets in back on the rack. And then he introduces himself, and shakes my hand, and it happened."

"What was it like?" you smile, eager for her to carry on.

"Like fucking magic."

You've heard that before. A million times. From literally everyone. Surely it can't be that magical if billions of people have experienced it.

"Magic?" you prompt.

"It is indescribable, babe. It's like... it's like everything just falls into place. Like everything finally makes sense!"

She jumps out of her chair, hugging you tightly. She's practically sat on your lap in the coffee shop, but neither of you really care.

"So, what's his name? What's he like?"

"His name is Cameron. He's new in town, he just moved here for work. He's a personal trainer, so he's like, super fit. And gorgeous. Did I mention gorgeous?"

"Maybe once or twice," you laugh.

"I'm so happy," Lacie whispers, emotion choking her voice. "I can't believe it finally happened. This is the day I've been waiting for since I was a little girl."

You hug her tighter, and ignore the look you get from the barista.

"I love you," she declares, suddenly serious. "You know that me being Tethered now doesn't change that, right?"

"I know," you confirm. "I love you too, Lace. I'm really happy for you."

You genuinely mean it. Lacie has talked about meeting her soulmate every day since you met her in the 3rd grade. You may have never quite shared her enthusiasm, but you admire her passion. And you adore her, more than anyone.

"So, what now? Are you gonna get married tomorrow and run off into the sunset?"

"I'm choosing to ignore your sarcasm because I know you're using it as a coping mechanism," she tells you pointedly. "And I know that there's a tiny part of you that wishes you'd been Tethered already, so you don't have to deal with everyone talking to you about it."

Jackpot. She's read you like a book.

"No, we're not getting married tomorrow," she rolls her eyes before continuing, "but we are going on a real date tonight. We're gonna get dinner and get to know each other. Isn't this crazy? I'm going on a date with the guy I'm gonna be spending the rest of my life with!"

"That is kinda crazy, actually," you laugh. "What are you gonna wear?"

"It doesn't matter - we're going to be together forever anyway!"

You make Lacie promise to send you a picture of her outfit as you're leaving the coffee shop, which she agrees to with glee. On your way home, you pick up some of your Mom's favourite wine, and prepare yourself for another soulmate based conversation that will inevitably happen when you tell your parents the events of the day at dinner tonight.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Hi, sweetheart!" your Dad beams as you step through the front door of your childhood home.

"Hey, Dad," you greet, allowing him to pull you in for a hug. "Where's Mom? I brought wine."

"Kitchen," he gestures with a nod of his head. "She's making that mango dessert you like."

Walking into your Mother's kitchen is like dipping your feet into a pool on a scorching hot day. The windows are propped open, curtains billowing softly in the wind. The ocean breeze drifts through the room, ruffling your Mom's dress and floating the hair away from her face. The evening sun beams in, illuminating the space with a golden glow. It smells like fresh fruit, mint, and salt water. It's a haven.

"Hi, Mama."

"Oh, my love! Just in time. I was about to call you to see if you were alright."

She makes her way over to you and kisses you on the head swiftly, before walking to the cabinet to grab wine glasses.

"Sorry I'm a little later than I said. I changed my outfit three times - it's warmer than I thought it was going to be."

"I know! Summer, finally. We've been waiting long enough."

She takes the bottle of wine from your hand and pours it into the glasses.

"You've poured four, Mama."

"Didn't your Dad tell you? Bucky's joining us for dinner."

"Oh. No, he didn't mention anything."

"He's back from his vacation. He promised he'd show us all of the pictures he took!"

She grabs the glasses and floats out of the room, leaving you alone in the kitchen, thoughts of Bucky Barnes swirling around like dust in the sunlight.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky.

Your Dad's best friend.

They met a few years ago, when Bucky moved to town. He said he was looking for something quieter, sick of city living. He wanted to slow down a bit, finally take a breath.

He was out for a run around town, getting his bearings, when he stopped your Dad on the driveway to ask about his car. They bonded over their love for motorcycles and vintage vehicles, and the rest is history.

Bucky's been a regular fixture in your life for so long, you can't remember a time before. All you know, is that it was probably a little more peaceful. His boyish charm is infectious, bringing out the youth in your Dad. They're like teenagers, when they're together. Long lost frat brothers, your Mom jokes.

She's got a soft spot for him. Most people do. It might have something to do with the fact he's devastatingly handsome.

It's no secret that Bucky Barnes is a ladies man. He is without even trying. He's charming, gorgeous, funny in all the right ways. He's mysterious, but not disarming. Tough, but not scary. Rebellious, but not a liability. He's a catch.

A catch, with a taste for beautiful women.

Your Dad always jokes that he's the towns most eligible bachelor. You can't count on two hands the amount of women you know that have dated him - but nothing seems to stick. He isn't Tethered, after all.

Some people choose not to date, if they haven't met their soulmate. They wait and wait, and when the time comes, they're complete. Others take pleasure in dating before it happens. Might as well make the most of the freedom, Bucky said once. You can't help but agree.

Might as well make the most of the freedom.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Hey, buddy!" you hear from the hallway. You make your way out of the kitchen to be met with the sight of Bucky, sun-kissed and practically glowing. His hair has a few light streaks from the sun, and the faint freckles on his cheeks are more prominent now. His steel blue eyes meet yours, mischief rife in them.

"Hi, honey," he greets, draping an arm around your shoulders. He kisses you on the cheek, light stubble scratching your skin. You throw an arm around his back and look up at him.

"There's no way this tan is natural," you tease, nudging him slightly.

"It makes me even more gorgeous, doesn't it?" he jokes, winking at you. He squeezes your shoulder before letting go, grabbing a bottle of wine from his bag.

"I brought your favourite, Lori."

"So did I," you echo, laughing.

"Great minds, honey. Great minds!"

"You can never have too much wine," your Mom yells out from the kitchen doorway. "Bring it in here, Buck. I'll put it in the refrigerator."

"Yes ma'am," he obliges, making his way to her with a smile on his face.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Guess what happened today," you begin, in between bites of your strawberry salad.

The three of them look at you intently, urging you to continue.

"Lacie got Tethered."

"How exciting!" your Mom squeals.

"That's a long time coming," Bucky chimes in. You look at him and smirk.

"Tell me about it."

"Here we go," your Dad smiles. "Our two anti soulmate protestors."

"Don't make it sound so political," Bucky laughs. "She's the only one that gets it."

"I've said it a thousand times, and I'll say it again. Just. You. Wait," your Mom lectures. "The two of you don't get it."

"Magic, fireworks, eternal love, blah blah blah. Trust me, I get it."

"She gets it," Bucky echoes. "And so do I. The Universe decides our fate, and we get no choice whatsoever. I don't believe in it, is all. I have no faith in the system. I should get to choose."

"But you feel like you are choosing," your Dad defends. "It didn't feel like it was being determined for me. It's hard to explain."

"It's just so... backwards," you justify. "I can't believe we live in a Universe where we have all the choices in the world, but don't get to choose the person we spend the rest of our lives with."

"It's worked out pretty well for us," your Mom smiles.

And it has. The first thing anyone notices when they meet your parents is that they are undeniably in love. You've never met two people more perfect for each other - which should solidify your belief in the Universe, really. But it doesn't. You can't explain where your lack of faith in it came from. It just appeared one day, and you haven't been able to shake it since. You're grateful every day to have two Tethered, happy, smitten parents. You've seen how hard it is for people with Untethered Mothers and Fathers. The judgment, the uncertainty, the hushed whispers. It sounds unbearable.

"Yes it did," your Dad confirms, shaking you from your thoughts. He reaches for your Mom's hand and kisses the back of it tenderly, eyes never once leaving hers. You look to Bucky next to you, who smiles at you gently. Feelings about soulmates aside, the both of you love these two people sat across the table with all your heart.

"Trust me, sweetheart," your Mom begins. "I know you're against the idea now - God knows I was the same at your age. But when it happens, you'll forget about all of your rebellion. You'll just be happy."

You nod in agreement, praying for the conversation to be over. As if he can read your mind, Bucky pipes up.

"Let me show you some pictures from Italy. I did promise I would."

You shoot him a grateful look before picking up your empty wine glass and making your way to the kitchen for a refill.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The dining room is now lit solely by candlelight, wax dripping onto the white lace tablecloth like condensation on a cold glass. The sun fell asleep hours ago, the four of you enjoying each others company with no regard for time.

"Oh, shit. It's late," your Dad says suddenly.

"You got big late night plans?" you tease.

"We have Clara and Mike's wedding at the weekend, so we're flying out tomorrow. We should probably get some sleep, so we're not exhausted."

Your Mom rises from her chair and kisses you on the head, before grabbing the dessert bowls from the table. Your Dad helps, smiling every time his hand brushes hers accidentally.

"Thanks for coming, kiddo. Your place next week?"

"Of course. I think I'll try that salmon recipe you sent me."

"Can't wait," your Dad assures you, giving you a one sided hug. He squeezes you once before letting you go to grab your shoes.

You can hear your parents saying their goodbyes to Bucky as you tie your laces, smoothing out the skirt of your dress as you stand. They all join you in the hallway, Bucky leaning over to grab his jacket from behind you. Fuck, he smells good.

"Have a great time at the wedding, you guys. Send me pictures, please!" you say as you hug your Mom goodbye.

"We will! Drive home safe, the both of you!"

They shut the door softly, leaving you and Bucky stood on the porch. The evening air chills your bare legs, salt in the breeze sticking to your lips.

"Where's your car?" he asks, looking around.

"Oh, I walked. It was a nice day, and I'm trying to be a little greener. Save the planet, and all," you chuckle.

"You want a ride, then?" he offers, leaning against the side of his truck.

"Uh - maybe," you hesitate, shifting your weight from foot to foot. You feel antsy, for some reason. There's a buzz flowing through your veins, making you a little restless.

"Maybe?" he smirks.

"I just, I'm not sure if I wanna go home yet. It might be that I've had three glasses of wine, but I'm kinda... jittery? Think I need to burn off some energy. Maybe I'll walk home."

"Like hell you will," he grumbles.

You quirk a brow in confusion.

"It's dark, and all those college kids are in town on their break. I don't trust 'em."

You fight to keep the grin off your face. You weirdly like it when Bucky gets protective. He's always so calm, so relaxed - it takes a lot to rile him up. He looks hot with a clenched jaw.

"Why don't we go somewhere?"

"Where?" you ask tentatively.

"I don't know," he thinks for a second. "How about the beach?"

You smile, gazing at him with a twinkle in your eyes.

"I fucking love the beach."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The ocean waves break the shore steadily, the repetitive pattern calming you both. You're sat on the sand, grains slipping through your hands where you're pouring it out through your fingers. The light of the moon reflects off the surface of the sea, illuminating the abandoned cove. It's just you, Bucky, and the night sky.

The alcohol in your system has evened you out, warm buzz keeping you sheltered from the chill. Bucky's stretched out next to you, strong arms folded underneath his head. His shirt rides up slightly, exposing a slither of sun kissed skin. You pretend not to notice his Adonis belt, or the little trail of hair that leads down into his waistband.

The silence is easy, comfortable. You don't get to hang out like this often, just the two of you. It's nice.

A notification on your phone breaks through the tranquility. You both flinch.

"Sorry," you mutter, checking the screen. "It's Lacie, telling me about her perfect date."

He chuckles lowly at your tone, sitting up to look at you.

"This is hard for you, isn't it?" he asks. "You hate the whole soulmate thing, but you like seeing her happy."

Bingo. It's like he's read your mind.

"I don't know why I hate it so much" you confess quietly. "It's a part of life. I can't avoid it. I just think - what if... what if I'm like, the exception, or something? What if I never meet my soulmate - or - what if I meet them when I'm like, seventy? That happens, you know! And then I'll be fucking cursed to spend my entire life feeling like this."

"And what is this?"

"Hopeless. That's what this is. I just feel pretty fucking hopeless."

You're not sure why you're baring your soul to Bucky tonight. You could blame the wine, but you know that's not what it is. Maybe it's because he seems to be the only one that understands.

"Me too," he whispers.

You whip your head around to stare at him in shock. He laughs at the look on your face, and continues.

"You're young - you have time. I'm forty in a couple of years. Every single one of my friends is married to their soulmate - except for me."

You bite at your lip nervously, but refuse to tear your eyes away from his steel blue ones. His face is lit by the glow from the moon, and it takes your breath away for a second. He looks almost ethereal.

"You always act so... unbothered. I didn't realise... I guess I just, I didn't -" you try to gather your thoughts before continuing. "This fucking sucks, huh?"

He laughs with his whole chest, and you're convinced the sound is so special, so rare, that you should bottle it. Sell it as medicine. It'd cure anything, you're sure of it.

"Yeah, it does," he agrees with a chuckle. "It's the waiting around that's the worst part. The unknown. It could be minutes, it could be decades. I just don't know."

"At least for now, we have each other," you joke.

"Every cloud has a silver lining, huh?" he teases, nudging you with his shoulder.

You allow your weight to press into his side a little, leaning in. He's warm, and he's familiar, and in this moment, he understands you better than anyone else in the world.

"We'll be okay, honey," he murmurs. "It'll all work out the way it's supposed to."

You close your eyes, and allow his words and the breaking waves to calm your nerves. Bucky wraps an arm around you, and all the tension melts from your muscles.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You're not sure if it's the honest conversation, or the brisk ocean breeze, but you've sobered up in record time. Your body registers this, and sends a shiver down your spine.

"You cold?" Bucky asks you. "You wanna go home?"

"Not yet," you whisper. "Not yet."

He shrugs off his worn brown leather jacket and slips it over your shoulders. It smells so strongly of him that it makes you dizzy. Bucky settles back down in his original place, returning his arm to where it was draped over you. His rough fingertips rub patterns into the material that now covers your arms, and you wish, for a fleeting moment, that it was your bare skin instead.

"You been working on anything new recently?" he enquires in a hushed tone, careful not to ruin the atmosphere.

"I made a damn good batch of macarons yesterday," you reply, beaming smile etched across your face. "Raspberry and lemon. I'll bring you some, next time I pass the Garage. You're gonna love them."

"You know, I think the only reason I ever get Mechanic of the Month is because you bring by all of your sweet treats."

You laugh melodiously, and the sound makes Bucky's heart stutter in his chest without warning.

"Happy to be of service," you tease. "I take requests, too, if you ever want something specific. Just let me know."

"You're the best, sugar."

You sink into Bucky's hold a little, daring to rest your head on his shoulder. When he doesn't stop you, you exhale, and relax even more.

"Are you working tomorrow?" he asks.

"Nope. You?"

"Nah. I'm going sailing, finally. It's been way too fuckin' long," he grumbles. "Your Dad's usually my right hand man, but he'll be in Ohio. You wanna come?"

The idea of laying on the deck of a boat in the blazing sunshine with a shirtless Bucky Barnes sounds like heaven. Who could say no to an offer like that?

"Yeah, of course. I'll bring a picnic, if you like. It's the least I can do."

"Sounds perfect," he replies, squeezing your shoulder.

Suddenly, he rises to his feet, extending a hand out to you. You grab it, and he pulls you up, the both of you shaking sand off yourselves.

"It's late, and dark, and a little cold. You ready to go?"

You nod your head, and make your way over to his truck, ignoring the heat that blooms over your chest when he opens the passenger door for you before his own.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Thank you, for tonight," you say as he pulls up in front of your apartment building.

"Thank you," he replies, killing the engine. "It's nice to have you back, you know. Wondered if you were gonna finish college and stay out there in California. Thought we might not see you again."

He almost sounds... relieved. The idea that he might have missed you if you didn't return effects you more than it should.

"I liked it there, but... I don't know. My family's here. I'm only twenty three. I've got time to move around the country. I missed this place too much when I was away."

"Never thought I'd hear you say that," he chuckles.

"I know, trust me. They do say absence makes the heart grow fonder."

"Yeah, they say a lot of fuckin' things," he jokes.

Bucky swings his door open, hopping down from the drivers seat. He makes his way over to your side, holding out a hand so you can jump out.

"Careful," he warns. "It's higher than it looks."

You grab his hand, and step onto the metal sill. Your foot slips slightly, sending you tumbling down and forward, out of the truck. Luckily, Bucky catches you, one hand in yours, other on your hip.

"Woah, easy. You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good," you breathe.

He places his hands on your cheeks and cradles your face, searching for any signs of distress. You place your palms over his, silently reassuring him.

And then, it happens.

Warm, golden, molten electricity surges through your veins, lighting up each and every one of your nerve endings. Your surroundings explode into glorious technicolour, everything suddenly brighter and more vibrant. It feels like your heart is being ripped out of your chest, only to be replaced by one that beats in a slightly different rhythm. There's flowers blooming in your ribcage, new life happening inside of you. You catch eyes with Bucky, expecting to see his stormy blue ones looking back at you. Instead, all you see is your future.

Vivid, flashing images of Bucky Barnes fill your mind, each one of them tinted with a warm, rosy hue. You feel like you're being reinvented. Your skin is alive, hyperaware of the way Bucky's palms are still gently cupping your cheeks. Your fingertips tingle with anticipation where they rest on his, itching to touch every inch of him. You feel as if the oxygen has been stolen from your lungs, and replaced with love.

Your knees are the first to buckle, the weight of the moment taking you down. You hit the ground, and so does Bucky, his palms not once leaving your face. You're both kneeling on the warm concrete, ocean waves providing a distant soundtrack. Blood is rushing in your ears, and you wonder for a second if you're about to pass out. You squeeze Bucky's hands so hard, it's a miracle you don't break his fingers. He squeezes back, eyes locked on one another.

After what feels like an eternity, you both break out of your reverie. You lean forward, resting your forehead against Bucky's, both of you panting.

You're trying to catch your breath unsuccessfully. You move one of your hands to rest on Bucky's chest, right on his heart. You swear the steady beat of it spells out your name.

He mirrors you, and moves his own hand to rest above your frantic heart, the other still glued to your cheek. You both breathe, in and out, trying to match each other. When you finally do, it's as if time stops. It's just you and Bucky. One heartbeat. One soul.

You break away from him to look into his eyes again. They look different, you think. He looks different.

He gazes back at you, cheeks flushed and chest heaving. The moonlight dances off your faces, illuminating the moment both your lives changed forever.

"It's you," he breathes in disbelief.

A laugh escapes your chest, surprising you both. He chuckles with you, and before you know it, the both of you are in hysterics, sitting on the sidewalk at three in the morning.

"Of course it's me," you giggle. "The two people that hate soulmates, Tethered together. You couldn't write it."

Bucky grins at you, clutching at his stomach.

You both take a breath, and realise your surroundings. Bucky gets up first, heaving you up by your arms. He towers over you, suddenly close. Not close enough, you decide. Never close enough.

You lunge forward and crash your lips to his. Bucky instinctively wraps one arm around your back, moving his other hand to hold you by the back of your neck. He tastes like salt and spearmint and every kiss for the rest of your life.

Bucky presses himself into you, attempting to tangle your bodies together. He wants to feel every inch of you against his skin, willing you to come closer. He aches to climb into you, sew himself into your ribcage. He'd be content to live there, beating your heart, forever.

You whine, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, exploring eagerly. You tilt your head back, and fist your hands into his shirt, plastering yourself to his front. He shoves his thigh in between your legs, the rough denim a welcome contrast to your soft skin. You buck your hips forward, and the friction is so delicious it makes you dizzy. You've never been kissed like this. It's almost feral. You're both surrendering to your fates, giving in to the animalistic urges coursing through you.

A seagull caws on a nearby street lamp, and the sound makes you both jump. You suddenly realise your scenario. Your Dad's best friend, who also happens to be your soulmate, has you pressed against his truck in the street, kissing you like he's running out of air and you're his only oxygen source. If it goes any further, you'll both get arrested for public indecency.

"Fuck, sugar," he murmurs against your mouth. "My pretty girl. My honey."

"My soulmate," you whisper.

The reality of it comes crashing down like a tsunami, drenching the both of you.

Bucky kisses you again, gentler this time. The tenderness makes you want to cry.

"What do we do now?" you mumble, fear coating your voice.

He senses your trepidation instantly. He feels it, actually, right in the front of his chest. It's like you suddenly share one body. There's no guessing, anymore. He knows exactly how you feel.

He takes a deep breath, trying to settle his building anxiety. He knows that if he stays calm, you'll stay calm. That's how Tethering works, right? He has to keep it together for the both of you, despite the panic that's rising in him, vibrating in his bones.

"How about... how about we both go to bed, get some sleep - and then we go sailing, later on today, just like we planned? And no matter what, we take everything one step at a time."

"One step at a time," you repeat, attempting to pacify you both.

"We'll figure it out," he reassures. "I know we will."

You find the will to step apart, which proves harder than you thought. It's like Bucky's an anchor - fastening you to peace, to happiness, to serenity. The more distance you put between your bodies, the more unsettled you feel. When you're not touching him, it's as if everything becomes unsteady, more difficult. You feel like you're on a rogue sailboat, battling the waves, threatened to be thrown overboard. Bucky is your lifevest, your lighthouse in the dark night. You're not sure how you're supposed to live your life any more than two feet away from him at all times.

You breathe, and smooth down your dress, running your fingers through your hair. You reach out and adjust Bucky's shirt where it's been wrinkled due to your tight grip.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," he murmurs, fingers tangling around your own.

"Goodnight, Buck," you echo.

He leans in to press a chaste kiss to your lips, savouring the taste of your cherry lip balm. He wraps his arms around you, unable to resist. Bucky breathes you in deeply, smiling uncontrollably. Nudging your nose with his, he murmurs gently against your mouth.

"My honey girl."

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[delilahsturniolo]

i love you, i’m sorry

— m.s

in which . . . matt accidentally confesses something he shouldn’t have in the heat of an argument.

genre/trope . . . enemies to lovers, angst. (resolved)

warnings . . . arguing, kissing & more.

written by . . . @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or re use my works. do not take inspiration without asking permission first. happy reading! :)

“lay on the horn to prove that it haunts me.”

“i love you i’m sorry.”

you and matt have known each other your entire lives, which was unfortunate for the both of you. you may be asking yourself, if you’ve known each other for so long shouldn’t you be best friends?

well, it was quite the opposite actually. you and matt have hated each other for whatever reason, it was a rivalry between you two. you guys couldn’t even be in the same room without bickering, when your family and matt’s family hung out it was absolute hell for you.

all you wanted was to avoid matt at all costs, no matter the circumstances. however, you always got along with matt’s brothers.

you and matt never had a reason to hate each other, in fact you tried being nice to him sometimes. you both just never got along, bickering and complaining about each other 24/7. if you got a dollar for how much you both piss each other off everyday, you’d be filthy rich.

but, matt wasn’t a complete jerk. he didn’t completely despise you, sometimes he held the door open for you. other times, he would slam it shut in your face. matt absolutely adored teasing you, and doing small gestures just to make you annoyed at him. that was something he never failed at.

you had sort of a mixed and unsure feeling about matt. you were confused, you didn’t know how he felt about you. did he hate you, or not? even better question, did you truly hate him?

yes, of course you did. you were supposed to, you can’t love him. but…you felt something different over the past few weeks. as much as you hated to admit it, nowadays you didn’t mind his presence. just a few months ago, you’d rather get hit by a bus than be near him. but other days, he pissed you off more than anything. you hated him…but you didn’t at the same time.

you didn’t know what this feeling was, it made you sick. falling for your childhood enemy? it was impossible, it couldn’t happen. you hated it, you couldn’t make it stop. all you could do was push down your true feelings, and keep pretending.

so now here you were, in the present. it was pretty late in the night. you were at the triplets house, in the kitchen. nick was out for a space camp photoshoot, while chris was sleeping in his room.

you leaned against the counter, scrolling mindlessly on your phone as you popped a potato chip in your mouth, feeling the salty sensation sink on your tongue. quietly humming to yourself, you took in the peaceful silence. that is, until you heard the front door open.

matt walked in the house, going right into the kitchen. he huffed as he saw you, rolling his eyes. you bit your lip, not even acknowledging him.

matt walked over to the counter, shoving you over with his body so he could get by. you grunted, your phone clattering to the floor.

“dude, can you not?” you scoffed, pissed off as you picked your phone up from the floor. matt turned on the sink, beginning to wash the dishes.

“can you not with the attitude?” matt mocked you, not even batting you an eye. usually you would just flip him off and leave, but you didn’t this time. you wanted to confront him, show him that you weren’t a pussy.

to the both of you, arguing was a competition. you would just keep going on and on until one of you backed down, and usually it would be you. however, not this time.

“i don’t have a fucking attitude.” you crossed your arms, the back of his head facing you as he aggressively scrubbed a plate. you were testing his limits, and you found pleasure in that.

“whatever floats your boat.” matt shrugged, laughing to himself. “do you always have to be so annoying?” he continued, which only provoked you more.

you rolled your eyes and sealed the bag of chips shut. “do you always have to be so mean to me all the time?” you shot back at him. matt turned off the sink water, wiping his hands before turning around to face you. “i’m not mean, sweetheart. come on, is that all you got?” matt teased you, knowing it would make you annoyed.

“shut up!” you raised your voice at him slightly, making him scoff in disbelief.

“what the fuck is your problem?” matt raised his voice back at you, you weren’t in the mood for this right now. your frustration was building up by every passing second.

“you, matt! you’re my problem!” you shouted back at him.

“my fucking goodness, y/n. you’re always starting shit, aren’t you?” matt complained, throwing his hands up in the frustration. you simply said nothing.

“what? cat got your tongue?” matt darkly chuckled. you rolled your eyes, starting to walk away. matt only followed after you.

you stomped outside into the driveway, it was the dead of night. you suddenly felt matt grab your arm, turning you around to face him.

“let me go, matt.” you spoke fiercely, trying to yank away from him. his grip only grew tighter, he completely ignored your protests.

“y/n, stop it. listen to me.” matt told you, you only shook your head.

“get away from me, matt. i hate you.” you remarked, matt shook his head. “no you don’t.” he pulled you closer.

the cold wind blew in your hair, matt’s eyes pierced into yours. “what are you talking about?” you questioned him.

“you don’t hate me.” matt shrugged, you weren’t even trying to pull away from him anymore. something was drawing you to him, and you didn’t mind it for once.

“yes i do! you don’t care about me!” you argued back, matt completely snapped at you.

“of course i care, y/n! how could i not care? i care more than anything in the world.” he shouted.

“since when did you start caring about me!?” you scoffed in disbelief.

“since fucking forever, you idiot!”

and those exact words, the moment they came out of his mouth silenced you. which by the way, was a rare occurrence. your lips parted slightly. “what?” you murmured.

matt let go of your arm, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “i love you, okay? i love you so fucking much, goddamnit! i’m sorry i fell in love, i can’t do shit about it and…i didn’t want it to happen, y/n.” matt blurted out. what? this was the absolute last thing you were expecting.

“you…what?” you spoke softly. your mind was racing with a million thoughts at once. matt was in love with you? your heart began to beat faster as you looked into his eyes.

“you think i wanted this to happen? trust me, i’m just as confused as you.” matt’s voice broke. you both stood across from each other, goosebumps raising onto your arms.

“i love you too, matt.” you whispered. matt’s gaze immediately softened.

“but…the thing is i can’t. i can’t love you. it won’t work out. we can’t be together and you know that.” you muttered, looking away from him as you said that.

“you don’t get it. it’s not that easy to lose feelings for you, if i could i would. i can’t lose feelings for someone i’ve loved for so fucking long.” matt’s voice came out shaky as he expressed all of his emotions.

you sighed, stepping closer to him. he looked down at you, his eyes growing glossy. your hand traveled up his chest and to the side of his neck, matt’s breath hitched at this action.

before he even knew what was going on, you leaned in, pulling him in for a kiss.

both of your lips connected, your heart felt full, as if you had been needing this your entire life. matt groaned against your lips as the kiss grew more and more passionate, more hungry.

you both wanted this badly, you craved each other more than anything. this felt so wrong in your brain, but yet so fucking right in your heart.

matt’s hands gripped your waist tightly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, your lips continued to dance with his, you felt his soft and supple lips crash against yours once more.

matt pulled away from the kiss, not letting go of you though. you looked up at him, a smirk creeping up on your face.

“mmm..you’re not so bad after all.” matt hummed, his finger lifing your chin up with dominance.

“i’m gonna murder you, sturniolo.” you teased, matt only chuckled, his hand moving to your cheek, caressing the skin gently.

“you wouldn’t.” matt smiled down at you, before leaning into your face once more, his lips colliding with yours again.

maybe loving him wasn’t so bad after all.

© delilahsturniolo

join the taglist here! ✉️

[avocado-writing]

Idk if you know Mortal Kombat, especially mileena (she's my favorite) but may I please get a Wolverine and/or Deadpool with a gf who has a mutation like Mileena.

She thinks she's ugly when she uses it but the boys think otherwise 🎀

(I'M LITERALLY IN HEAT EVERYTIME I THINK ABOUT THEM)

This is (my wife) Mileena

When Wade fights with you at his side, your carnage is always prefaced with a quiet request. 

“Please don’t look.”

And, because he is fundamentally a good dude, he doesn’t.

Fuck. He really wants to, though.

The noises that you make when he turns his back to focus on a different opponent are… interesting. It sounds like a bunch of really wet celery being snapped in half to a symphony of screams. When he’s done slicing people into teeny tiny chunks he turns around and sees you standing there in a pool of blood, trying to get the stain of it off your jacket.

He’s never been so curious about something in his entire life.

You’re so lovely. Loveliest thing he’s ever met. How the fuck he managed to convince you to give him a chance he’ll never know. God, the stars, and luck must have all been on his side that day, when after you’d finished taking down a cartel he’d asked you to grab a coffee and you’d said yes. Ever since then it’s been great. He loves spending days on window-shopping dates with you, fingers intertwined as he leaves you breathless with laughter; lazing on his sofa with some stupid rom-com playing with a bucket of popcorn between you both; snuggled in his usual corner booth at his favourite pizza place playing footsie beneath the table.

Perfect. You are perfect in every way.

So if all it takes is looking away when you ask him to then it’s a pretty easy compromise.

Unfortunately what you don’t take into account is that he is an idiot.

Wade catches the sight of you in the reflection of his katana the next time you’re out on a job. He’s just liberated some dude’s head from the rest of his body and is cleaning his blade when he spots you. 

And he cannot turn away.

Your mouth is open so wide it could rival a snake’s. Rows of jagged teeth which help you dismember the man who has been caught in the vine of your tongue, struggling to get away as he screams for help. When your jaws snap shut the man is silenced. You spit out the remains of his face onto the ground beside you like discarded gum.

“Holy shit!” says Wade. You squeak when you realise he’s caught the reflection of you, covering your mouth with both hands as it returns to its normal soft, kissable line.

“Oh no!” you whisper. Wade dispatches the last guy who’s running for him with a well-aimed bullet before coming to gather you in his arms.

“Baby, hey, it’s okay!” he says quickly when it’s obvious that you’re about to cry. You look up at him with glistening eyes.

“But Wade, I look so ugly,” you manage, “I thought… if you saw… you might not want to…”

Be with me any more, are the words which hang unspoken in the air. Wade guffaws.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Babe, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen!”

Your eyebrows crease together in confusion. He wants to use his thumb to smooth it out, but instead chooses to wipe a tear off your face.

“Yeah?”

“Of course! Shit, you’ve got that fuckin’ Venom thing going on? Like Mileena from Mortal Kombat but sexier? Come on, I’d be a fool if I wasn't rocking a semi right now!”

This makes you laugh properly, from your stomach, and all your worry is forgotten.

“I shouldn’t have worried…” you sigh when you get your wits back.

“Nah, of course not. You’ll always be my boo, okay?”

You grin up at him, before an idea very clearly crosses your mind.

“Oh! That means now I can show you what my tongue can do.”

He isn’t proud of it, but that promise almost makes him cum in the suit.

taglist: @falsewordz @malfoys-demigod @belilwen @mildly-salted @tvwebs @childeslegstrap @getmeoutofhell @s1eep-o @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @yrthr @momopad @sugarplumz100 @captainjinkx @madspads @acrosstheunivcrse @yeethaw13 @na-is-salty @florduarte @hunterispunk @starfleetteddybear

[neptuneiris]

Cruel Summer (04/10)

Under the Moon

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader

summary: dreams and frustrations are shared, leading to a strange and unexpected but enjoyable connection with Aemond and more moments together at the pier.

words: 11k

previous part • next part • series masterlist

hi everyone and I'm sorry for the wait! 🥺 I couldn't write this chapter, it took me a long time because it was difficult for me to develop certain scenes until finally I could finish it and I really hope you like it! 🙏🏻

remember that every comment and reblog is more than appreciated, thank you so much for reading beautiful people and enjoy the chapter!

warnings: none in this chapter.

The night is still young.

The sunlight has disappeared just a few minutes ago, letting the night sky in with the stars and the beautiful moon adorning the deep ocean with it's shimmering lights.

The smell of the salty air invades your lungs with every breath and the breeze gently hits your face, while the sound of the waves crashing against the shore is the only thing you can hear between you and Aemond.

Normally you don't usually come at such an early hour to the pier but... you couldn't help it. And meeting him here too at this hour was something you didn't think would happen.

Yet here you both are.

You feel the tension emanating from his body. You notice how he is completely rigid and takes several drags on his cigarette without giving them much time in between.

You don't know what has happened to him and that's why you asked him if he was sure he wanted you to stay. And even though he told you that you can stay, it doesn't mean that you should ask him what's going on with him... right?

You don't want to intrude and you don't want to make him feel more upset than he probably is. You're curious, in fact, you've been curious since the first time the two of you were here together.

Because you keep asking yourself; what kind of problems could he have? A Crown's guy?

Even though he has already told you that everything doesn't seem as perfect as it looks, you still find it hard to believe that. And you don't understand it because of all the people living at Crown's and specifically him they have no problems with money and never lack anything.

So you wonder what it could be and what it is that has him so stressed and upset.

That's not the only thing that invades your mind though. There's also the fact that the two of you exchanged glances at the party last night and he saw you mixing with the people on his side of town.

You have no idea what he's going to say to you about that. You don't even know if you're going to talk about it in the first place or if he wants to talk about anything in general.

So for the moment the only sound between the two of you is the sound of the waves.

Neither he nor you attempt to speak. You consider talking first as you watch him out of the corner of your eye but decide against it when you see him so serious and so lost in thought, staring off into the horizon.

And if that's what he wants now, peace and quiet just like you, you're not going to ruin it.

So you take a seat at the end of the pier as you kick off your sandals and slip your feet into the water, relaxing at the contact and more so with the view before you; starry sky and the moon reflecting in the deep ocean.

"So Stark is your friend."

He speaks suddenly, mixing the sound of his voice with the sound of the ocean and the atmosphere you both find yourselves in.

And him saying that gets your attention completely and you turn your body slightly to watch him while you're still sitting.

"Yes."

You reply, though nerves betray you, since after all... it seems that the two of you will indeed talk about that topic.

And as you watch him, again he has that look... indescribable.

You hate not knowing what he must be thinking, but he seems to be evaluating your answer. And you don't know if what he's going to say next will be an accusation or simple curiosity, so you decide to clarify that topic.

"My friend Chase works for his family," you begin to explain in a soft voice, "They both met and became friends, so one night Chase took him to a small reunion that my other friends and I were having at the beach on our side of town."

You say, remembering those moments.

"At first we all thought it would be temporary, after all... he's a rich guy from Crown's and his family is just as well known as yours, so we didn't think he would start hanging out with us."

You let out a slight sigh, looking out to where the ocean has no end.

"But it turns out he's simpler than he looks and... well... he likes to relax, hang out and be with a group of friends where nothing is demanded of him," you say, remembering his words, "With us he doesn't have to pretend or maintain the facade that most people at Crown's have to maintain."

You clear your throat, lowering your gaze for a moment.

"Or that's what he said."

You finish explaining and he doesn't say anything and honestly that starts to bother you.

You can tell he's a person who analyzes and evaluates people as well as words before he speaks, taking all the time necessary. But that's not a bad thing, what makes you desperate is that you don't know what he's probably thinking.

He has a way of doing things so... subtly and nonchalantly.

Then he turns his body towards you and leans his back against one of the wooden posts supporting the roof of the pier, having you completely on his radar of vision with the cigarette between his long, pale fingers.

He watches you with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat and again, inevitably, you feel nervous.

"That explains it, then," he says softly, "Why you can so easily walk into Crown's and move among us."

You have to stifle a bitter laugh, since of course he thinks you're trying to pretend to be as one of them and that sounds totally ridiculous, even to you.

"It's not like I'm trying to pretend to be like one of you."

You say with a sincere tone, watching him seriously.

"Neither my cousin nor my friends or I do that. We're not from Crown's."

He tilts his head.

"Oh no?" he says in a soft but slightly expectant tone, "Then what were you all doing at the party last night if Cregan doesn't like being with his own kind?"

"The guys and I ask Cregan to get us in because sometimes they're the only way out of the everyday," you explain, "Those parties make us forget for a while who we really are and enjoy things we don't have access to, like... an escape. But it's not our life," you shake your head, "We don't belong there and we don't pretend we do, we just... want to have fun."

He listens to you and evaluates you silently, again, looking for some sign that disproves what you claim. But there is nothing, nor is there anything else to say, because it's the truth.

"But last night..." he begins to say, "I saw you and you seemed fine... and fitting right in. Even better than others."

This catches your attention and you tilt your head to the side, genuinely surprised and interested.

"You also seemed fine where you were and... with her... y-your girlfriend."

Your last words come out with difficulty, stumbling between your lips before you could stop them.

'Okay, now why did you decide to say that?'

You ask, or rather reproach yourself. But it's not like you can turn back time, he's already heard you and you... you don't know what to say to save or excuse your words.

But then you notice a change in him.

A subtle change passes over his face, almost imperceptible. He stirs for a second where he stands and throws the little that is left of his cigarette.

You notice again the tension in his body and for a moment, his gaze fixed on the horizon, hard and expressionless, shows a shadow of doubt that he does not want to show. However, the silence between you two fills with a slight awkwardness and a tension that you don't understand.

He tries not to let down that impenetrable wall around him, but it seems your words have made a crack and you bring that annoyance back to him.

'Maybe you shouldn't have mentioned his girlfriend?'

You're about to apologize but he speaks first.

"You know her?" he asks in a low, almost distant tone, still not watching you.

"The mean girl?" you ask without thinking but instantly regret it and panic invades your entire system, "Oh no, no, no, I mean... sorry. I-I didn't—

"It's okay," he interrupts you, with a disinterested calm that bewilders you.

This also gets your attention and confuses you but you already feel embarrassed enough because clearly you shouldn't refer to the girlfriend that way in front of her boyfriend, so... you try to think before you speak.

"I mean..." you clear your throat, "Floris Baratheon? Sure. Well, her whole family."

You try to lighten the mood.

"Although my cousin and I ran into her and her friends yesterday morning on the pier," you start to say, "Your sister was with them too, but... she wasn't present when she started making fun of us for not having money, being poor and all," you list with boredom, already being very common.

That especially gets his attention and for the first time in all the time the two of you have been here together, he glares at you with furrowed brows.

"She made fun of you?"

He asks you with a seriousness that instantly makes you feel nervous and intimidated. And of course, he's not going to believe you, she's his girlfriend.

"Well... n-no, I mean... surely she acts differently with you," you start to say nervously and without finding the right words to express yourself, "Surely she must be very kind and nice... but... with you and her people, you know what I mean?"

He looks at you confused, not understanding, narrowing his eye at you and you can't find a way not to make his girlfriend look bad.

"It's just that..." you get frustrated, shaking your head, "Look... huh... she's your girlfriend and I don't want you to think that what I'm telling you are lies, so—

"I don't think that," he interrupts you, this time with an honesty that takes you by surprise. "I believe you."

You look at him uncertain.

"Really?"

He doesn't respond, just nods his head as he turns around and rests both arms on the wooden railing. He runs a hand over his face and in the process, messes up his silver hair, letting a few strands fall messily over his forehead.

"I've heard stories," he says then, without looking at you, "Apparently... she finds it funny to make fun of those who aren't of her own status... like other people I know."

He says with some bitterness.

"But when she's with me or my family... she acts completely different. And it's a little hard to believe when my mother or father hears those rumors but....

He shakes his head in disdain.

"Cregan is right, it's all appearance. It always is."

You remain silent, letting his words echo in the air.

The revelation about Floris stuns you, not because you wouldn't have guessed it, but because he, being her boyfriend and close to her, acknowledges it with such bitterness.

And there is something in his words and in his posture, which makes you realize that he is no stranger to such falsehood and you wonder... maybe he thinks just like Cregan and is caught up in appearances and perfection, just like him?

Still, you remain genuinely confused, with a question you can't help but ask him.

"But... don't you love her?"

The little laugh he lets out catches your attention and you see him shake his head, as if the idea is something absurd and impossible to be, which leaves you more confused.

"It's not what it seems. Our relationship... it's not genuine."

You frown and look at him blankly, feeling foolish for not doing so but... you really don't understand.

"What do you mean?"

He doesn't say anything to you, just lets out a low sigh and bites the inside of his cheek, knowing perfectly well that he can't talk to you about it because it might be a bad idea.

He doesn't know you, you don't know him and these are... delicate, important issues that should be kept in the family.

It doesn't matter if are issues that consume him and suffocate him, he has to bear it and deal with it because that's the way things are in his family, and period, there's nothing he can do or say about it.

And you notice that. The hesitation and the distrust, because both you and he understand that he shouldn't trust you, a poor girl from Black Waves, with anything.

But you know when a person is drowning.

You see it in the look and the way they move. You saw it in Cregan when he first joined the group, all your friends saw it and Aemond... you can see that the surface is about to overtake him.

And yet he has to put up with that, for whatever he owes his family and you understand that. You are no one to force or try to convince him to talk to you.

"I understand that you don't want to talk about it with me."

You begin to tell him in a soft tone.

"And I also know that I'm no one to make you share your ideas or concerns with me because I wouldn't understand. Even right now I have a hard time understanding that someone like you, who has everything, would have problems, you know?"

You tell him with a small incredulous smile and a wry look.

"But that's just my ignorance because I really don't know anything," you say in acceptance, "And... I really hope you find that person you can talk to and get it off your chest," you tell him in the most honest way possible.

Then, again, it's as if something inside him changes but this time... it breaks.

You notice that subtle change, in how his shoulders that always seem tense, as if carrying the weight of the whole world, drop a little and his breathing becomes heavier and slower.

And you don't know it but something in him is falling apart, the moment you told him that you find it hard to understand that he, who has everything, has problems.

But that is the image that his family has always reflected. That is the image that his father has put on him and all his children for all people to see. A perfect family, him being the perfect, flawless son.

And it's so much weight, the reality and your words, that he finally reacts.

"My whole life is an obligation."

He speaks with a hardness in his voice, not watching you and you watch him intently at the moment he begins to speak.

"For as long as I can remember, my whole life has been planned, with no say or decision for me. Because my decisions were never mine, they are my father's and my mother's who is always supporting him, trying to find the good side in everything," he says bitterly, "The two of them deciding between my hobbies, my friendship's, my relationship's, my studies and my future, no matter what I want or what I feel."

You are surprised by the harshness and ease with which he speaks, not yet looking at you, but finally expressing himself and venting, letting out all that he has been enduring and must endure.

"And Floris is that... a decision I didn't make or I want to make," he says seriously, "It... it was never... never a matter of love, the two of us..." he sighs, "The two of us are nothing more than a convenience. A piece on my father's board."

You part your lips and watch him confused but with realization, trying to see if what you're hearing is what you think it is.

"He, my grandfather and his entire team are always looking for alliances and partnerships for the company. Ways to strengthen our connections with other families that are advantageous and Floris... is that."

He motions with his hand and still with the bitterness is all over his face.

"Is that link between his father and mine through me, as if I... have no judgment of my own and even if I do, that doesn't matter to him because I must do what he asks me to do with family in mind, because that's the only justification."

And then... he starts talking without stopping, expressing himself fully while you just stand there, silent, watching and just listening.

"Just as I must study a fucking degree I don't want and don't like," he onfesses, "But I must do it to keep the company someday because Aegon will never do it, my father is already angry enough at him, Helaena won't do it either, Daeron is still young and someone must do it, then that someone must be me."

H points to himself harshly and bitterly, anger in his voice.

"But I do it so the fucking fights in my house don't happen anymore and so my father doesn't end up hating us completely."

He takes a breath and puts on a bitter smile, looking up at the sky for a second, shaking his head.

"But it's not even worth it, you know?" he tells you in a lower, calmer tone, "That's the worst of it, my dad... he's not worth it," he shakes his head, "I don't owe him shit."

He runs a hand through his hair again, as he stares out at the ocean and bites his lower lip with anger coursing through his veins.

"He didn't even notice me since I was a kid until I told him I was going to study business to take over the company. And yet, I have to put up with it for my mother and my siblings... because I don't want my family to explode."

Silence falls between you again, but this time it's not awkward or tense.

His confession leaves you stunned, because you definitely didn't expect to hear any of this. Not even about his father and his family. And he's... still tense, with his jaw clenched and his gaze furrowed in anger.

It's like he's blowing smoke out of his body, from all that resentment and all that anger not only at his father, but also at himself, at the crushing expectations that have haunted him his whole life.

But, in some strange way, he finds himself with one less weight on his shoulders for finally venting.

And you can't believe it.

Maybe you've been so ignorant and you've seen so many movies and read so many love stories that you think... if you're with someone in a relationship, especially people your age, it's because you must both love each other.

And that's what you thought of him and Floris, two rich parents' children who have a bright future together. But now, everything you had assumed about them falls apart.

And how come you didn't see it coming?

You mean, all of them, all these men are rich and they reinforce that power with richer people with their alliances, whether it's of any kind, but the point is to relate to people who are equally or more wealthy and to keep them.

And now that Aemond has entrusted you with this, it makes sense.

And you can't be blamed for not having thought about it before, summer has barely begun, you're enjoying it, you're also working and certainly these ideas don't cross your mind when you're poor and have nothing to do with this world.

So you finish processing everything he has said in silence, realizing that he has shared more with you than he has probably shared with anyone in a long time.

You realize how important this moment is, even if you don't know exactly what to say.

Then Aemond reacts again and finally looks at you, letting out a long sigh as he closes his eye and runs a hand over his face again.

"I spoke too much," he says in a low tone.

And then you react too.

"No, no," you quickly say, "I-I..." you lick your lips, having no idea if what you'll say is good or bad, because you really don't know what to say, "I'm relieved you got it off your chest with me."

He shakes his head as he places a hand on his chin, looking off into the horizon.

"That's not even half of what's going on."

You press your lips together, getting an idea of what it might be about now that he's told you about it. And you let out a long sigh, still processing it and keeping in mind that he should let it all out.

"So it's all about your father and his business," you say softly.

And he nods, turning his head slightly to look at you over his shoulder. And you notice the mixture of weariness and disdain he finally shows on his face now that he's told you about the situation he's trapped in.

"My father has worked for years to secure his empire and his legacy," he says with a certain heavy tone, "And by partnering with Borros Baratheon, he strengthens and elevates his entire business."

He explains briefly.

"For him, this is an opportunity he cannot pass up and my relationship with Floris will make that partnership happen."

'Of course.'

You think with obviousness and bitterness reflecting on your face, as you briefly shake your head.

You're not even Floris but you just can't help but put yourself in her shoes, even though you don't like her and consider her a horrible person.

But if you were her.... you really wouldn't want to be in a relationship like that. Much less a relationship where all the time you are showing off in front of people when the harsh reality is otherwise.

"And does she know?" you ask quietly and cautiously, "Floris?"

To your surprise, he nods. And you don't know if that makes it all worse.

"She must have an idea about it," he replies in a more distant tone, "Maybe she doesn't quite admit it, but... no one can be so blind as not to notice."

You feel a knot form in your chest and can't help but watch him with a mixture of pity and understanding.

And he looks back at you for a second, so you try to keep a neutral face instantly, and then he continues talking with a frustrated look on his face, venting.

"And somehow, she thinks that can change. That she can try to make us both have something real, but..." he shakes his head, his tone turning sour, "From the beginning I didn't want to do any of this. It wasn't my decision because she doesn't interest me in that way."

He confesses and you listen to him with full attention.

"And it feels bad... it feels bad to see her trying to change that knowing the reality of things. And then I feel guilty..." he points to himself, "For not being able to reciprocate her feelings when I see her trying to do something that's not going to work."

And once again, you can't help but feel bad for Floris as the silence falls again between the two of you.

You remain silent, because you absorb his words. As these same words hang in the air, but at the same time, you feel that something important has been shared.

He sighs, as if the breeze could carry some of his burden away and the sound of the ocean enveloping him could protect him. He has let his guard down.

He has shown a part of himself that he probably won't show anyone else.

And while you don't fully understand what he's going through, you understand his words and how everything is defined by duty and by the expectations others have of him.

And in some ways, that hurts you for him. And those expectations and the weight of duty are too strong to go away so easily.

"And you haven't tried to...like .... really give her a chance?"

He shakes his head again.

"It's hard when the people around you let you know the real person she is," he says in a distant tone.

You let out a long breath, looking away from him for a moment, and then with smooth, nonchalant movements, you pull your feet out of the water, shake them off and stand up from where you are sitting.

You're not sure what you're doing, but you decide to approach him, even if it's just a little to make him feel that he's not alone.

Even so, you do it calmly and without very aggressive movements, since you don't want to scare him or make him feel that you are invading his space. And you place yourself next to him, also leaning on the wooden railing just like him.

You glance sideways at him for a moment before turning your gaze back to the horizon.

"And what do you really want?" you ask softly and with genuine curiosity.

He turns his head slightly towards you and notices your closeness, which, fortunately and surprisingly, doesn't scare him, since strangely, your presence... doesn't seem uncomfortable nor does it bother him.

Maybe it is the way you are listening to him, really listening to him and offering him a space where he can express himself without being judged, without expectations and without objections, that makes him not back down, stay and open up, even a little, for the first time in a long time.

But your question, makes that doubt appear on his face again for a moment, turning his gaze forward, feeling a little insecure behind his firm and controlled facade.

It's been a long time since he's been asked that question. In fact... he's never been asked it. And he doesn't know how to answer it.

"It's not about what I really want, Y/N. It's about what's expected of me."

You shake your head.

"But that's not fair, Aemond."

"In my life rarely anything is."

"But then what do you really want?" you ask again, your tone insistent and firmer, "Forget about your father and your whole family for a second," you say, "What I'm asking you right now, here, with no one around, just you and me... what do you really want in your life, Aemond?"

Your words float in the air and the silence that follows is deep, almost palpable.

You watch as he closes his eye for a moment, as if searching deep within himself for an answer he has buried beneath layers of other people's expectations. And when he wants to say something, he opens his mouth, but then stops, hesitant, unsure.

Yet he has the answer.

Until he lets out a sigh and for the first time looks directly at you, his expression softer, almost vulnerable, but not completely, just... a sincere expression.

And as if he's preparing to say something he hadn't allowed himself to say out loud before.

"I want to go to medical school in Oldtown," he finally says quietly but with a firmness he hadn't had before, "That's what I really want."

And you can't help but place a small but soft smile in his direction, relieved that he's finally talking it out.

"I've always been interested in it. I've always wanted... to do something meaningful, something that really matters. Not just for me, but for other people."

He admits, his tone vulnerable but determined.

"But...I've never told anyone, much less my dad. Because I know he'll never care and probably just laugh about it."

He pauses for a moment, as his mind seems to wander between memories and frustrations built up over the years.

"I don't want to do anything he tells me," he continues, his jaw tense. "I don't want to be with Floris. She... I don't know, she deserves someone else," he says with a shrug, "And I just... I want peace and freedom to be myself."

He confesses.

"I want to be able to choose my own path and live without feeling like I'm letting everyone around me down, that..." he sighs, "That's all I want."

You feel the strength and longing in his words. You're so engrossed in listening to him and watching him that you barely notice that the two of you are getting closer and closer.

And you don't really know him, clearly for obvious reasons, but you know that this Aemond Targaryen right now is different. He is not the man who always seems to be in control of everything.

No, the Aemond in front of you is someone who just wants to be free.

He looks back at you and you see that silent wish that he wants so badly to come true. And he may not tell you directly, but in that moment he realizes that this is what he has been looking for, unconsciously, someone who will listen to him, understand him, and stand by his side without judgment.

"And I know it sounds stupid," he mutters, averting his gaze, "It's impossible. But... yeah, that's what I want."

You press your lips together.

"Don't say that. It's not stupid," you assure him in a soft tone, "It's your dreams. Your true aspirations. And no one has any right to take that away from you. Not even your father."

The silence that follows your words is soft but heavy at the same time. You both stand still, absorbing the weight of the words you have just spoken.

You because you understand that no one should make less of your feelings or thoughts and Aemond because no one had really said those words to him before.

But also, he feels the tension in his shoulders return and he suddenly feels so vulnerable and exposed, something he's not at all used to and all because he trusted you with something intimate about him and his family.

He shifts slightly where he stands, uncomfortable, and you notice this, how his expression gradually closes, slowly turning back to his usual hard, impenetrable mask.

Then you understand that perhaps he is worried that you have seen his weakness, something no one else has seen. But what he's shared with you doesn't make you feel a kind of power over him now, at all.

So you decide to do something genuine too: share with him.

You take a deep breath, not because you're hesitating, but because talking about your past always brings a slight pressure to your chest, but you really want to do it.

"You know..." you begin in a soft tone, "I understand what it's like to have a dream... something you love deeply and want to achieve, even if circumstances aren't always on your side."

Aemond turns to you, his blue-gray eye catching your gaze.

"I've always wanted to study Literature," you confess with a small smile, "Writing, reading... I've always been passionate about it. And while I know it may seem impractical to many, my mom always supported me. She believed in me and believed that one day I could work in a big publishing house and maybe, even publish something of my own."

A small nostalgic smile forms on your lips as you look out over the ocean and remember those conversations you had with her, those days talking about books, characters and imaginary worlds.

Then you turn your gaze back to him and realize that he is actually listening to you, watching you intently, which gives you courage to continue.

"My dad couldn't make it to that stage of my life," you add later and bite your lips for a few moments, "He died when I was little from cancer."

You are surprised at yourself, as you have never been able to say those words before. And if you did, you would burst into tears, but in this moment... surprisingly you don't break down.

"He was everything to us and when he left... well, everything changed and things got a little difficult," you continue, "My mom did everything she could until we moved here because she could no longer maintain us in Nevada and my aunt and uncle took us in."

You pause for breath, feeling the emotion building up in your throat, but you manage to remain calm. And Aemond continues to listen to you attentively, without interrupting and with his posture again relaxed.

"Until a year ago, my mom also became ill with lung disease," you continue finally, watching the horizon, "We all did everything we could but she also passed away."

You are silent for a moment, feeling the weight of your words in the air.

You think about how you hadn't talked about this with many people, and you certainly didn't think you would with someone like Aemond. But now, here, with him listening to you in the same way you listened to him, you feel that maybe it was something you needed to share.

He doesn't say anything at first, but you see the slight gleam of compassion in his eye.

"I'm so sorry," he murmurs sincerely.

You take a deep breath and nod, though you try not to let the sadness wash over you completely. You don't want the moment to become too dark.

"I'm fine," you reply softly, "Despite everything that's happened, I haven't stopped wanting to study Literature or work hard to achieve that someday."

You look up at him, finding his attention fixed on you.

"And you can do the same, Aemond," you add softly. "I know it's not easy. I know your situation is... complicated and that your father is... a dick," you joke a little, though it's the truth, "But there's always a way out. You may not see it now, but it exists. You just have to find it and you have to fight for it."

Aemond watches you silently for a moment, processing what you just said. His eyes soften slightly and you look at him with a warm, reassuring gaze, assuring him of your words.

Then, you feel as if something changes between you two.

Both have shared something important, something that has allowed them to understand each other better and to unburden themselves in their own way. And you both stand there, thoughtful, looking at the horizon with the sea wind blowing softly.

You feel a little less weight on your shoulders. And maybe, just maybe, Aemond feels the same way too.

"Thank you for listening to me," he says, in a soft murmur, watching you, "I really appreciate it."

A small smile settles on your lips and you watch him with all the sincerity in your eyes.

"I know we don't know each other but you don't have to face all this alone," you say then nod in his direction, "So I'll be here if you need me."

And you both stand there, sharing a moment of peace that neither of you had anticipated, just like the first time you both met on this pier.

A rich guy from Crown's and a poor girl from Black Waves, neither you nor he would have imagined it, but here you are... it's a reality and a relief at the same time.

And the feeling of regret doesn't come at any time.

You assume you've both already let out what you wanted, so after you both stay in that comforting silence for a few more moments, and then you watch the time on your screen and let out a long breath.

"I don't want to get emotional..." you start to say, breaking the silence, "But you do know that we both have to go back to our respective worlds and pretend we don't know each other, right?"

He can't help but smile a little, understanding exactly what you mean and can't help but feel a slight twinge of disappointment, as do you.

"Yeah, I'm aware," he tells you softly, watching you.

You observe him with a resigned look, without erasing the small smile on your lips.

"Here," you point to his pocket with your gaze, "I'll give you my number."

That gets his attention and he turns to stand before you, reaching into his pocket.

"Are you sure?"

"Are you?" you joke, smiling, "Come on, it's no big deal."

He takes it, unlocks it in a quick gesture and holds it out to you, to which you take it and... you don't know what to do for a moment.

Sure enough, it's an IPhone, the kind of phone that only rich people like him can afford because of it's high price. While you look at it and feel sorry for your old phone of a different model and that the touch is barely functional due to the time you've had it.

"Whatever you need, within my possibilities..." you say as you add yourself to his contacts, "Or if you need to talk, about anything, just text or call me."

You extend it back to him and watch him, as he's already watching you and picks up his phone, putting it back in his pocket, having no idea what to say for a moment.

"Okay," he murmurs, his voice low but clear.

You nod again, saying nothing more, with reality starting to get to you. So you clear your throat softly and let out a sigh.

"Well, I... I should be going now," you say, "I have to work early tomorrow."

Aemond's expression changes for an instant, not expecting you to leave so soon. And he straightens up completely, pulling his arms away from the railing.

"I can drive you home," he offers suddenly, not even him thinking before he speaks, but wanting to.

And that takes you by surprise for a moment, but then you shake your head.

"No, no, that's okay," you reply, "Thanks but I don't want to bother you."

He frowns.

"It's no bother," he insists more gently, "I can drive you, really."

You look out over the horizon for a moment, feeling the cool ocean air caress your face. And you really appreciate the offer but he needs to stay here.

After all he shared with you, he needs to still feel this peace and quiet of the place.

“No, thank you, you…” you try not to look rude, ”You need to stay here. You need it,” you tell him, "It will do you good, trust me," you assure him, ‘I'll see you another time."

You wave goodbye as you turn away, with a slight smile.

"Take care."

He watches you as you walk away, your soft but firm footsteps echoing lightly against the wood. The feeling of this summer night envelops you both, but both of you also feel this sense of something incomplete but meaningful between the two of you.

You think that for the first time, you realize that Aemond Targaryen, even where he comes from, all that he has and all that he will have in the future, he is not so different from you.

And he doesn't tell you that, in fact he hadn't thought or felt it before but now, as you slowly disappear from his sight, he realizes he is glad that you appeared on the pier almost at the same time as he did.

“Remind me why we have to do this.”

Alysanne's annoyed and upset voice makes you watch her and you smile in amusement as you watch her struggle with the buttons on her work shirt.

“Because we need the money to help your parents,” you say, brushing back your hair, “We also need to be able to buy our own things and also because we need to save up to go to college.”

These are valid enough reasons for both of you, but you both can't help but complain.

“I hate Mr. Frey, I hate him so much,” she mumbles.

“Think about the money, Aly.”

“That doesn't make me hate him any less. I haven't even been able to enjoy the summer like I'd really like to.”

Well, that's true, this summer has started out different and not how you both planned, but there's nothing you can do about it.

“And speaking of that…” she again says, “There's a party tonight. At Sunsets Pier. I think the Stark's and the Arryn's set it all up or something like that Cregan said but the point is, everyone can go.”

“Ugh, no,” you quickly say, making a face, “I've been to enough parties in such a short time.”

“What are you talking about!” she exclaims to you incredulously, ”There will be free food and drinks, live music and lamp shows or something.”

“They do the lamp show almost all the time,” you remind her without emotion.

“But everything else is free!”

You let out a long breath.

“I'm not in the mood to go. Especially not when I have to endure Mr. Frey most of the day and we only get one day off from him and his exploitative job.”

“Ugh, you're so boring,” she scowls at you as she watches you through the mirror and finishes fixing her shirt.

You make sure your keys, wallet and phone are in your small bag, then stare at the screen.

“Okay, time to go or we'll be late,” you let her know.

She lets out a whimper.

“I don't want to work anymore,” she whines like a little girl.

A few minutes later, you both arrive at the restaurant on time and immediately get to work, with Mr. Frey's eyes watching your every move like a killer gargoyle ready to jump at the slightest mistake.

And both you and Alysanne do the same as always.

Take the order, bring the food, clear tables as soon as they are empty, reorganize, clean up again, bring the customers anything they ask for in case they are missing, be available to them at all times and in some cases charge them.

And while you do everything automatically, totally used to it after a while, in the middle of it all you can't help but get lost in your thoughts and think about him.

It makes sense when it hasn't even been twenty-four hours, but… you really can't help it and you can't get him out of your mind. The way he talked to you about his frustrations, shared with you his dreams, his longings and the way he paid attention to you too… his look, his eyes… it all invades your mind.

And foolishly, you can't help but wonder if he's thinking about it too… about you. Although you just wish you weren't the only one feeling this way.

You also wonder when you'll see him again, but the thought of imagining it, thrills you, makes your heart race and makes you realize you want that to happen soon, which you never imagined such a feeling you could feel for Aemond Targaryen himself, of all people.

But then the restaurant gets more crowded as the evening goes on and you have to be more attentive and active.

You and Alysanne move back and forth, keeping busy with everything you have to do, even with Mr. Frey making sure neither of you slows down for a second, being so annoying.

And then, as you're finishing clearing a table, the sound of the doors of the place opening makes you watch the new customers almost automatically and your question of when you'll see Aemond again is answered in that instant.

Your heart stops for a second and you see him, entering the restaurant, joined by his family, the Targaryens.

You immediately recognize Alicent Hightower from all the magazine covers where she has appeared with her husband, always so elegant and majestic.

And where Mr. Frey, upon seeing her, attends to her himself with all the kindness and cordiality possible, allowing her to enter his restaurant as if she were the most important person in the whole world.

Next to her, you identify Helaena, which is not impossible because of her delicate and beautiful appearance, besides her silver hair, of course. With them also comes the youngest of the siblings, Daeron.

And at the end is him.

With his firm posture and the same serious, impenetrable look as always, he scans the whole place without much importance, when his gaze meets yours.

You again feel your heart skip a beat and trying to look busy, you instantly avert your gaze, pretending to be busy with something at the cash register.

You try to focus, but now that he has also seen you and now knows where exactly you work, it causes a wave of nerves to wash over you and your hands begin to tremble slightly, especially since you feel his gaze on you.

Luckily, they choose a table on the terrace, with a view of the sea, so the only thing that separates you are the large windows and the glass doors, although he can easily see you through them and you can easily see him too.

And it's a strange feeling to have him there, so close, in the same space, but behaving as if you don't know him.

Fortunately, it's Mr. Frey himself who takes their order and then it's Alysanne's turn to bring them the food, so you breathe a sigh of relief and stop feeling a little tense.

Time goes by and you can't help it, while you do your job, you watch his family and him out of the corner of your eye.

Mrs. Alicent has such a natural and perfect elegance and demeanor, looking even kind. Helaena seems more oblivious to everything, but you also notice that she is very close to her mother. While Daeron is more carefree and Aemond… he doesn't talk much but he looks more relaxed.

Even watching him here in the restaurant, he also maintains that hard-to-read expression.

What he shared with you last night is still fresh in your mind and you can't help but wonder how he is able to maintain that facade under constant family pressure.

You finish delivering the food to one of the tables that is, not close to his but not too far away either and then, out of inertia, you go back to watching him and he is already watching you.

Nervous, but with a blank stare, you look away again.

You both act as if you don't know each other, as if last night on the pier never happened. And though it hurts a little, you know it's the right thing to do.

Here, in the crowd and in front of everyone's eyes, especially those of his family, there's no room for that connection the two of you had last night.

Then minutes pass, then an hour and they're gone.

It makes no difference though, as you continue to work, keeping busy and distracted. Alysanne in a few small breaks tries to convince you to go to the party at the pier but you continue to refuse, as apparently the customers are also talking about that.

But you don't have the courage or the energy to be among a lot of people.

Finally, after the long hours have passed, both of you finish your shift and it's time to go home.

Clearly neither of you are allowed to use your phones during your shift, so when you hold it in your hands and turn on the screen, the first thing you see is a message from an unknown number.

But you instantly recognize who it is and a silly little smile appears on your lips as you read the message: Tonight?

You see the time and realize that he sent it to you at the time when he was at the restaurant, so you quickly reply without thinking: I'll be there.

You knew that if you told Alysanne that you were going to the pier now not so forbidden, she would kill you.

First she would start complaining and demanding you to know why you want to go to the pier and not to the party with her.

And you don't want to tell her yet about everything that's been happening with Aemond because even you don't know.

So you preferred to save yourself the nagging and all the questions, you also wait for her to leave and once she does, you also leave the house.

So now once again you have successfully managed to jump over the wall and you head towards the pier, where in the distance you can see the figure of Aemond at the end, with the smoke of his typical cigarette floating around him, looking towards the horizon.

Once again you can't help but start to feel excited and a little nervous, having no idea what the two of you will be talking about tonight, but you assume he just wants some company and honestly you want that too.

So feeling more confident, you start to walk onto the pier, with all the anticipation and excitement coursing through your body, unable to help the small smile on your lips.

"Hey, stranger."

You speak when he's a few feet away from you and he turns, incorporating his whole body to watch you and when he does, a confused little smile appears on his lips.

"Stranger?"

"Yeah, you know, because we have to pretend in front of everyone that we don't know each other," you say with an amused smile, positioning yourself next to him, "I brought marshmallows," you raise the bag in your hands.

He throws his cigarette away, frowning.

"Marshmallows?"

"Yeah, I... I don't know, I thought if you want, we can go to the beach and have a bonfire and eat these," you suggest, "But only if you want," you hasten to add.

Aemond stays quiet, watching your face and then the bag of marshmallows in your hands, watching as you have a slight hope that he'll say yes.

And it makes him feel a little weird since he's never done that before. Not even with Helaena.

But... that you planned this when he was the one who asked you to come without having any plans in mind other than the two of you sitting here and watch the ocean, it surprises him because as simple as the idea is, it's something out of the ordinary for him.

And because of that, it's why he doesn't reject the plan and nods in your direction.

"Let's do it."

You both walk back to the beach, where you don't stray far from the pier actually, and he leads you to a section where his family has firewood, so you both start carrying it to the shore to make the bonfire.

And actually, for a few moments, neither of you talk about anything. It's just both of you being in each other's company, not at all awkward and not at all weird.

Then you look further out, specifically in the direction of Sunset's Pier. It's not like this upscale section of Crown's is too far from the downtown pier, as you can see the decorative lights and people moving around from here.

"You know about the party going on right now at Sunset's Pier?" you decide to ask Aemond, as the two of you finish stacking all the firewood at the specific spot.

He shakes his hands and squats down as you take a seat on a trunk, then look out at the pier and all those people in the distance.

"Yeah," he replies in a soft tone, "My brother was trying to convince me all day to go with him and his friends," he says and then pulls out his lighter.

"My cousin too," you say, watching as he begins to light a section on fire, then watching him slightly confused, "Why didn't you want to go with him?"

He seems to think about it for a moment as the fire begins to spread all over the kindling, then looks at you with a soft gaze.

"I wanted to come here."

You watch him back for a few seconds without saying anything, and then he turns his gaze back to the fire, while you have the bag of marshmallows ready to open it in your lap.

“And you, why didn't you want to go with your cousin?” he decides to ask you too.

“Hum…” you shake your head as you take the sticks to roast the marshmallows and start preparing them, “I didn't feel like it. Besides… working at the restaurant already sucks enough energy out of me.”

Oh no.

You didn't want to talk about what happened at the restaurant and yet you brought up the subject. Mostly because you feel embarrassed and you don't even know why.

And he lets out a slight sound, a small nod of understanding as he watches the fire, his gaze getting lost in the flames.

“That was weird, huh?”

You watch him without saying anything for a few seconds, frowning slightly at him and thinking about it, since you don't know exactly what he's referring to, but he speaks again.

“Pretending not to know you,” he explains and your gaze softens, ”It was weird after last night.”

You look away from him for a moment as the wind gently blows your hair and the breeze hits your whole face.

“Yeah,” you admit, ‘It was a little weird,’ you say as you hold out his stick with the marshmallow, ”I didn't think you'd show up there, to be honest.”

He takes the stick and gets up to take a seat next to you on the trunk once the bonfire is finally fully lit.

“I didn't think you'd work there either,” he says and along with you, places the marshmallow on the fire, "I even wanted to say hi to you but…" he shrugs as you listen carefully, ”I don't know, maybe it would have been weird or something.”

You nod, as you both wait for the marshmallow to be ready.

“Yeah, I get it.”

The bonfire crackles, with the sound of the ocean enveloping you, and you both stand for a moment in silence, enjoying the marshmallows and the simple company of each other.

You enjoy his company and he enjoys yours, especially since with you he doesn't have to talk about anything specific. And everything is just quieter and simpler… just the way he prefers it.

So you both stay there, in this quiet corner by the seashore, it couldn't be more perfect and necessary, with the distant and barely audible echo of the music and the party on the pier.

When he breaks the silence again, watching you curiously.

“What's it like working at the restaurant?”

“Oh,” you think about it for a moment, not expecting that question but having no problem answering, "Well, do you want the short version or the long version?" you joke.

He shrugs, a small smile on his lips.

“Either is fine.”

“It's just that let's just say that if it weren't for the need to save and buy my own things, I would have quit a long time ago.”

You explain, making yourself comfortable and he listens attentively beside you.

“My boss, Mr. Frey is… hum…” you also think about it for a moment, “Well, there's no other way to put it but he's a dick. I have to put up with his poor treatment without complaining and watch as he always makes sure everyone knows he's in control.”

“He seems like a nice guy,” he says wryly and you smile.

“Yes, he is, believe me,” you reply sarcastically, “But you know… sometimes there's no choice but to bear it out of necessity.”

You know…

Aemond blinks and your words are left bouncing around in his mind.

No. The truth is, he doesn't. He's never had the need to work.Because while you face the demands of a despot boss, he lives in a world of privilege and comfort, used to people doing everything for him.

But somehow he understands what you mean. The two may have different lifestyles but you both understand each other.

You both watch the flames in silence, in a comfortable silence, broken only by the crackle of the fire and the sound of the waves, just as the mingled smell of burnt marshmallows reaches your nostrils along with the salty air.

And then, suddenly, you have an idea.

You put on a small smile and that spark of spontaneity appears in your whole being, as well as that impulse, so you stand up and Aemond next to you looks at you curiously.

“Shall we go for a swim?” you ask casually, as if it were the most normal thing in the world in the middle of the night.

“What?” he looks at you clearly bewildered.

“Come on,” you insist, giving him a playful smile, “Let's go swimming.”

He shakes his head, looking out at the ocean a few feet away from the two of you to look back at you.

“You want to go swimming right now in the ocean at night?”

“Yeah,” you shrug, ”I've done it before.”

“Don't you know how dangerous that is?”

“Oh come on, it's not a big deal and we won't go far,” you try to convince him.

“These are the only clothes I have,” he points to himself.

“Me too,” you say with a laugh as you start to take off your tennis shoes, determined, “Just leave them here, come on, it'll be fun.”

He looks at you as if you've just lost your mind, doubtful, but there's something about your enthusiasm that's contagious, something that invites him to leave his inhibitions behind.

And when he least expects it, you're already heading for the shore, stripping off your clothes. Then he finally sighs and stands up, taking off his shirt.

You laugh excitedly as he joins in and you leave your clothes on the sand, stepping into the ocean. The water is cold at first contact, but not too much. So you jump in in one motion, only to turn around and look at Aemond.

“Come on!” you encourage him.

“This is a bad idea!” he tells you from where he stands, stepping in with slow, cautious movements.

You laugh and encourage him again, moving your arms and hands, letting the salty water envelop you completely.

Then, as he sees you, slowly that wariness inside him fades and with more liberal movements, he moves to your side and you begin to splash him, laughing, causing him to let go and stop thinking for a moment.

He starts splashing you too and then you realize that it is such an out of place moment and so unlike anything you had imagined you could do with him, but at the same time it feels so natural and almost liberating.

And Aemond, he lets himself be carried by the waves, because even though the darkness of the ocean can be intimidating, he feels a kind of peace that he didn't expect to find here.

“See?” you observe him with a small smile, ”It's liberating.”

He floats on the water, gazing for a moment out beyond the ocean and then the Sunset's pier in the distance with a soft, thoughtful look.

“Yeah,” he says as if in a whisper, acknowledging that.

You hang suspended in the water, watching him for a moment, unable to help yourself.

The moonlight bathes his face, highlighting his features and his slightly damp silver hair. You also see how the muscles in his shoulders relax with each breath and the sensation of the water, also looking at his bare chest and his skin glowing from the light and the water, giving him a crystalline and totally captivating effect.

The silver chain he wears around his bare neck also catches your attention, shimmering slightly with every movement.

His eyes, his lips, his nose, his look…. in all of him there is something primal and irresistible that makes you can't stop looking at him and your thoughts begin to dissipate uncontrollably.

Then he looks back at you and you try to look unaffected, as if you don't have a lump in your throat and this feeling in your stomach, smiling softly in his direction and then looking around, trying to control your thoughts.

'He has a girlfriend, remember?'

Your mind tells you too.

'It's not a real relationship, though.'

Okay, maybe it was a bad idea to convince him to swim when the man looks like this.

He tells you to swim some more and you both let the salty water envelop your bodies, with the full, bright moon above, illuminating the surface and creating a silvery path stretching to the horizon.

You also watch the stars, twinkling above you both, creating a celestial spectacle.

The water begins to feel warm, like a gentle caress on your skin. And as you swim together, you can feel her skin brush against yours, both of you not straying far from each other.

Until again you both hover and your gaze meets his, both the moonlight bathing your face and his, creating shadows and contours that accentuate features.

“This is nice,” he tells you, in a low murmur.

“Yeah, I know.”

His eyes are still on you, beyond simple observation.

There's something else, an intensity you can't help but feel. Aemond is not the kind of person to leave his thoughts out in the open for all to see because he is reserved, cautious.

But now, he seems to be letting a part of himself be seen, as if for once he's lowering his defenses… being with you.

A comfortable silence settles between the two of you, interrupted only by the soft splashing you both make in the water and the murmur of the waves.

You allow yourself to lose yourself in the depth of his eyes, in that intense blue-gray. And you can't help but let your mind wander to the slight closeness of his body to yours.

The softness of his voice and the way he looks at you… it hypnotizes you and makes you think something might be.

When then, you jump unexpectedly and startled where you find yourself floating, looking down at the surface of the dark water as if you can see through it, breaking the magical moment.

“Oh no, no, wait, something touched my foot!” you exclaim in panic.

“What?” he quickly says to you, his face showing a mixture of concern and confusion.

“Ew! I don't know but it felt… gross,” you babble, shaking your legs in the water as if you can push away whatever it was that touched you.

“Hey, hey,” he says, moving closer to you, his voice low but comforting, ”Easy.”

“I think we should go back,” you look at the shore and then at him worriedly.

But Aemond doesn't look frightened or perturbed, just serene. And he moves even closer, his hand reaching for yours underwater.

“Easy, easy,” he murmurs, his voice soft but sure as his arm goes around your waist, pulling you to him, ”I've got you.”

The strength and security with which he holds you seems to anchor you to reality, and without hesitation, you instinctively place your feet around his torso and your arms around his neck as you cling to him, feeling his firm body hold you completely.

Aemond looks at you, his eyes serious but with a soft glow, as if the distance between you had never existed.

”I've got you,” he repeats, this time in a lower whisper, his breath caressing your cheek as his hands hold you firmly, but at the same time gently.

You watch him with parted lips, as the water continues to gently sway around you, but it's as if everything has stopped, except for the racing beat of your heart and the warmth of the touch of his skin against yours.

And just like that, whatever it was that scared you no longer matters to you anymore the moment the foreheads of the two of you brush and slowly draw closer together.

Now you're both breathing hard, but it's not from the effort of swimming, it's the closeness. And it shows in the gentle press of each other's foreheads, in the way the breaths mix in the night, in the way their lips are dangerously close.

Neither of the two of you knows exactly what it is that you're doing and why, but it's inevitable. Something in the air, the magic of the night, the intimacy of the moment… it all leads you to this point.

You watch his lips, desiring it, and Aemond watches yours too, and then you both look into each other's eyes again, so close.

And then it happens.

Slowly, almost as if both of you are afraid to break the charm of the moment, your lips connect with his. At first it is a soft touch, barely a touch, as if tasting the flavor of each other, but soon the softness transforms into something deeper, more urgent.

His arms around your waist pull you even closer to him, as you cling to his neck.

The kiss intensifies, your mouths meeting in a slow but passionate dance, as if you've both been waiting for this moment for a long time, without even knowing it.

The feel of his hands on your skin, the heat emanating from his body, makes everything else disappear. The moon is still shining above you, the stars are still twinkling in the sky, but now there is only this instant.

His lips move over yours with a tenderness you didn't expect, but also with a passion that takes your breath away.

The softness of his mouth against yours and the warmth of his hands firmly holding you, makes you place a hand on his cheek and tilt your head to kiss him more deeply.

But suddenly, a rumble echoes through the sky.

You jump slightly, the sound interrupting the moment abruptly, and both of you stop the kiss as you turn at the same time towards the sky, confused by the noise.

When then, a burst of multicolored lights floods the night sky, followed by another explosive sound. And you watch in wonder at the fireworks, illuminating the horizon with flashes of red, green, gold and all colors.

The sparkles reflect off the ocean, painting the water with brilliant traces of color, as the party on the Sunset's pier is in full bloom.

And you guess that Alysanne didn't mean a lamp show, but fireworks.

Aemond also watches the show in the sky, then watches you again, both of you closer than ever and surprised by what just happened, both the kiss and the fireworks.

You watch him back, too, still surprised, your lips still warm from the recent contact, your heart still pounding in your chest.

And for a few seconds, you both stay like that, just watching each other under the fireworks, your bodies still entwined in the water, while the colors continue to dance in the sky.

But then, without much thought, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, you lean into him again, your lips finding his once more, unable to help yourself.

And he reciprocates with the same need and gentleness, the kiss being more determined and firmer.

His arms wrap tighter around you, and you feel him pull you to him, closing any space between you. The water sways gently around you, but neither of you notice. Only the kiss matters, the warmth and the connection that has been reignited.

The salty taste of the sea on your lips and the sensation of his breath mixing with yours make it all feel intensely real and at the same time, almost like a dream.

His lips move with yours in a slow, deep dance, as the fireworks continue to explode in the sky, their distant sound almost becoming a melody.

But it's as if all that show is just a backdrop for what's happening between the two of you, the two of you kissing… under the moon.

series taglist:

@zenka69 @strangersunghoon @deliaseastar @thefireblaze @kythefangirl25 @p45510n4f4shi0n @saturnssrings @bellaisasleep @primroseluna @tinykryptonitewerewolf @barnes70stark @tssf-imagines

[gguk-n]

Pivotal choice (Carlos Sainz x Race Engineer!Vowels!Reader)

Summary- Just as the summer break 2024 started Carlos Sainz Jr announced that he would be joining Williams Racing from 2025 onwards. Everyone thought it was because James Vowels was persistent little did they know, Carlos's decision rested in Vowel's daughter's hand who was currently working as a race engineer at Williams.

There had been a shift in Williams from the start of 2024 season, it wasn't visible to the world but anyone in Formula One could see it. James Vowels, it seems was making the right decisions, but in actuality it was his daughter, Y/N who had just joined as a race engineer who was calling the shots during race strategies and giving her opinion to her dad which helped him make decisions. She was the reason Logan got his first point last year and the reason Alex was able to compete for points. That's how her and Logan had grown closer together since they were closer in age and had the same sense of humour.

Vowels spent a lot of his time courting Carlos Sainz Junior, especially after he had lost his seat to Lewis Hamilton in the start of the season much to his daughter's dismay. She couldn't believe her father was being so irrational and persistent which translated into her growing annoyance and hatred for the Ferrari driver. Y/N had caught Carlos's eyes the first time her dad had dragged her along to dinner with Carlos after the race. She had made sure to let her father and the potential Williams driver know of her annoyance at being dragged here and the fact that they were possibly making Logan seatless for next year.

She remembers it like yesterday when her dad after much deliberation and push had resigned Logan. She had even offered to be his race engineer to help him; her dad didn't think she could do much but agreed. She was currently not only Logan's race engineer but his therapist. So, you can imagine how much she was hating being here. Vowels got up to use the restroom leaving the two together; Y/N ate her food quietly not even looking up. "I heard you're Logan's race engineer" Carlos began. She nodded. "I know it must be difficult to sit and have dinner with the guy who might take your drivers seat. I'm sorry but the world of motorsports is cut throat and" she cut Carlos off with "I know, I'm just salty dad's being like this since Logan has potential if given the right chances, not looking for a replacement." she said looking into his eyes. Carlos's breath hitched in his throat, those were beautiful eyes he thought. "Again I'm sorry but I need to weigh all my options" he continued. "I know" she hung her head down while continuing to cut into her food. Her father was back soon, trying to cozy up and butter Carlos up. There was a perpetual grimace on her face apart from her usual frown.

The dinner couldn't end any sooner because Y/N bolted out with a quick good bye. Carlos was intrigued. He wanted to know more about this girl who looked at him with more disdain than Logan himself. Carlos found himself looking at her whenever she was around or searching for her during race weekends. He had found out from Alex that she was James Vowel's only daughter; extremely smart since she graduated from mechanical engineering and masters in automobile. She had used her connections to land good internships so that her being hired by Williams wouldn't be weird. She was a nepo baby who knew what she wanted and how to get it. To add insult to injury, she was friends with Logan which explained the disdain. Carlos found her interesting; she was funny from what he had gathered and found himself laughing at her jokes when he would over hear her conversations, she was pretty which he had decided the first time he saw her walk in with her dad, she was close with not only Logan Sargeant but Oscar Piastri who she didn't glare at like she would glare at him from time to time. It was starting to hurt Carlos's feelings.

The next time they met, Y/N looked even more annoyed with his presence then she could've been the last time they met, he thought. She was being dragged along by her dad again even though she threatened to run away. "Dad, I'm not having dinner with him. For goodness sake, let me mourn in peace." she snapped. "I don't get what you're mourning. Having Carlos on Williams is what we need. Also, I would like you to be his race engineer. Both of you are smart and will make a great team, I can already see it" Vowels reasoned trying to get his daughter to see the bigger picture. "Well I don't. I'll be Alex's engineer if Logan's no longer on the team" she stated. "You do not get a say in today's dinner, we'll discuss your plans for next year later. Now get dressed before I fire you" he commanded. "Ugh, that's why I didn't want to work for you. Even Sauber would've been fine at this point" she whined. "Well, we have points and they don't" he snapped. "Would've had more, had you not fucked Logan over" she snapped back and went to get dressed. "Language missy" James shouted back at her.

Carlos was bearing the brunt of much of Y/N's annoyance who got jabbed in her rib by her dad about 4 times since they sat down and the food wasn't even out yet. "I really want you and Y/N to get along since I feel like if you join Williams, Y/N would be a good fit as your race engineer even though she's a rookie. I'm not just saying this because she's my daughter." Vowels told Carlos. "Well, I'm not a good fit for him" she muttered. "If you'll excuse us Carlos" Vowels said sternly dragging her out, "I swear, if you do not behave I will drop Logan right now, God knows how much I want to" he seethed. "dad" she whispered with tears in her eyes. "Now, you'll walk in and be on your best behaviour." he commanded. She nodded and quickly wiped away her tears and walked in with her dad. Carlos noticed the sudden shift, her demeanour sadder and hurt, not the usual snappy and sarcastic self. Dinner ended without anymore hiccups, Y/N only nodded her head along to whatever her dad had to say.

Carlos wasn't sure what Vowels told his daughter which made her look like a puppy that had been kicked. But he did ask the restaurant they were eating at to pack him an assortment of their best dessert; he had heard from the others that she loved desserts, maybe this would cheer her up, he thought. He grabbed the bag before exiting the restaurant and handed it to her, her dad was waiting for the valet to bring his car who was now watching the pair interact. "What's this?" she asked. "Something to cheer you up" Carlos said. "I don't want it and you don't need to cheer me up" she said trying to hand him the bag back. "I know but I want to" he clarified. "You're already in my dad's good books, you don't have to try this hard" she said. "I don't want to, I want to be in your good books" Carlos smiled. Y/N's heart skipped a beat watching him smile, this was weird. "I don't think you can be" she corrected. "Well then, just enjoy the food. Don't think about it too much" he leaned into whisper in her ear, winking at her before climbing into his car which was ready for him. Y/N was staring at the bag in her hand and the driver that just handed it to her before leaving. She felt guilty now for treating him like shit when he was just trying to stay in the sport like anyone would.

She was in her home, slowly unboxing the package from Carlos which had a collection of macaroons, donuts, cheesecakes, red velvet cakes. This was so much food for anyone, she could have this for a couple days. The next time she meets Carlos, she should thank him, she thought as she took a bite of the coffee flavoured macaroon which tasted too good to even be real.

She got to meet Carlos in the next race, instead of running away or frowning like she had been doing the past couple months, she smiled at him and walked up to him; Carlos thought he was dreaming. The Y/N Vowels was walking up to him, it felt unreal, he almost pinched himself. "Thanks for the sweet treats, I loved them." she said. "That's a relief, I wasn't sure what you liked so I got you a few of everything" he replied. "Well, next time you wanna get me something, there is this patisserie in Paris." she began. "Tell me the address and I'll bring that to you next time" he interrupted. "I was just kidding. I enjoyed them. Thanks but that doesn't mean I'm okay with whatever is happening" she corrected. "If it means you'll stop looking at me like I killed a man than that's a win in my books" he laughed. She waved him off and walked away to the Williams garage.

"Were you talking to Y/N?" Lando asked. "yeah" Carlos said. "Why? Fancy her?" Lando laughed. "Maybe" Carlos thought out loud. "Mate, I think she likes Logan or something" Lando said immediately. "Really?" Carlos asked, a little hurt. "Yeah, I think that's what Oscar was talking about to Lily or something, I just over heard them anyways" Lando shrugged.

Carlos didn't think he liked Y/N, not until Lando asked him. That's when he realised that he did. There was a reason he tried so hard to make her like him and wished she would talk to him in all those dinners. He felt like he understood why she was being so annoyed with him since he would possibly replace the guy she liked. Carlos was a little hurt, he wished that was a piece of information Lando hadn't passed onto him.

Y/N on the other hand, found herself thinking about Carlos a lot, since he tried to cheer her up. She realised that she was being too harsh on Carlos when it was not his fault and if there was anyone she should be angry at was her dad and not Carlos. She found herself looking through his race stats and his strategies. She couldn't help but admire him for his craft. Maybe, she was being a little too unwelcoming. Obviously, she would fight tooth and nail for Logan; her dad wasn't having his way this easily.

The next dinner, Y/N felt like Carlos wasn't talking to her like the previous dinners. He would try to get her input on anything and listen intently even if she was bad mouthing him but right now, he was talking only business with her dad. She had decided to be civil today and didn't even make a snide remarks. A part of her was hurt, maybe she deserved it after the shitty way she had been treating Carlos. Dinner took forever to end, for other reasons than the previous ones. She tried to strike up a conversation with Carlos but nothing came of it.

A few weeks later, her father had stopped pestering her to tag along to dinners with Carlos. She was happy this way, until at family dinner. "I think I'm close to signing Carlos" James told his wife. "That sounds wonderful, darling" she remarked. "What do you mean?" Y/N almost shouted. "Not having you around seemed very fruitful to me, considering you're always frowning at the poor guy" your father corrected. "You can't kick Logan out without giving him a fair chance." she pointed out. "I gave him a chance and he blew it, it's not my fault" your father reprimanded. "No you did not. I can't believe you're behaving like this" she pushed the food away. "If you are going to be this rude, leave. I'll see what you can do without my name" your father replied. She had tears pricking her eyes. "dad" she began. "Just because you're my only daughter, doesn't mean I will let you behave like a rude brat and get away with it. Go on, I want to see what you can do with out me or my help" he said. He wasn't like this, she thought. Her mother tried to calm her father down but Y/N left.

Their fight wasn't over. It had seeped into their work where they would only talk when necessary. Everyone in Williams could fell the tense environment. Logan and Alex tried to diffuse the environment but Y/N just brushed it off, until she couldn't anymore. There were rumours floating around that Logan would be replaced next year or worse mid season because of the shit her dad was blabbering about in interviews. She was sick and tired of that man, that's why she was now storming into his office. The secretary left quickly, sensing the atmosphere.

"Dad, what is wrong with you? You need media training, not your drivers" she snapped. "What is this behaviour? Is this how you talk to your father?" he raised his voice. "Mr Vowels, please behave like an adult. Please don't talk crap about your drivers while they are driving for you at least" she reprimanded. " Miss Vowels, I'll talk however I like" he snapped back. The Miss Vowels hurt, "dad" she huffed. "I'm not your dad in this office. I'm the team principal of a team that is failing and I want to bring to the top" he replied sternly. "You can do all that without disposing people off like collateral damage" she pointed. "I'll do what I think is right" he said. "If you want Carlos to sign, stop talking about him in every interview like a love sick teenager. Tell him our stats and make promises you can keep and then if he signs give your driver who had been with you since his junior career a respectful send off" she said turning around. "You don't mind Carlos joining" he asked hopeful. "It's your team. I'm just an employee" she replied dejected.

Y/N had tears streaming down her face when Logan met her. "I'm sorry, I'm such a shitty friend. I told you I'll do anything for you but I can't" she cried. "It's okay. I know you are trying your best" Logan said wrapping her in his arms. "It's hard fighting your dad" she sobbed. "I know" he patted her back. "I don't blame you for it" he smiled bitterly rubbing her back. "Maybe I shouldn't have joined Williams" she sobbed. "Hey! You helped me score points and are giving valuable input, don't say that. I'm so proud of you and how far you've come" he said looking at her and wiping her tears. His hands were cupping her cheeks, "You did what you could, now it's my turn" he smiled at her. "I'll do whatever it takes. I'll continue racing even if it's not in formula one, I won't stop racing" he declared. He wiped away her tears, "Now smile, I hate it when my best friend cries" he teased.

Maybe talking to Carlos was like fraternising with the enemy, maybe that's why she felt awkward approaching him. She should have no reason to approach him anyways. There are already weird rumours floating around because of her father, she didn't want to add fuel to the fire.

Y/N ran into Carlos when she was rushing to her garage at the Spanish GP, where there were rumours floating around that he would announce the team he was joining. "Sorry" she apologised looking at the man she had run into. "It's okay" Carlos replied. "Did you sign a contract yet?" she asked abruptly. "No" Carlos replied scratching his neck. "Weigh in all you options. Whatever choice you make, let it be the best it is for you" she advised. "I thought you didn't want me at Williams" he commented. "I was being too emotional about losing my best friend. I've matured now" she smiled at him. "Logan's your best friend?" he asked, Carlos really needs to focus on more important things instead of the fact that his crush isn't crushing on another man, but he was a man of simple needs. "yeah. I mean you'll probably understand since....if something like this happened to Lando" she said shuffling her feet. "yeah" Carlos nodded. "Good luck with the decision" Y/N wished him. "You know, maybe we could go out for food" Carlos suggested. "Isn't it unethical since I'm William's team principal's daughter?" she smirked. "I haven't signed yet, so no" Carlos smiled. "Don't you want to spend time with your family" she asked. "Maybe you could join me" he winked. "What?" she asked, blushing. "I was kidding, but if you want to, I don't mind" now he was smirking. "Ah, no. Let's go out after the triple header's done" she told him. "No take backs" Carlos insisted, his tone firm as he scanned her eyes. "Ferrari's hottest driver just asked me out, I'd be a fool to say no" she teased. Carlos was now blushing, "I'll see you in Silverstone" he said, "for our date" he added tentatively. "yeah" she said biting her lower lip trying not to smile.

Y/N was counting down the days to Silverstone. The weeks didn't seem to pass. She didn't want anyone knowing either, not now anyways, what if she jinxed it?

The British GP was a big deal since it was Williams home race. Y/N was very busy with preparing everything related to work on the car. She had been working with Logan closely to get him the upgrades, which was taking longer than she hoped. Logan finishing just below points and Alex in points was great news. Everyone was ecstatic in the team and Vowels called for a team dinner which Y/N was thinking of ways to avoid. Her relation with her father was repairing it self slowly with the helpful intervention from her mother; "I will not be caught in a cross fire. This is a house not a war zone. Get along or I'm throwing you out James" her mum told her dad. That's why they had started being civil which in turn led to the atmosphere at Williams improving as well.

Y/N had lied saying that she was catching up with old friends and escaped the dinner after a lot of whining and cribbing on Alex and Logan's part for leaving them.

She got back, showered and got dressed. A white midi body con dress was calling her name. Carlos picked her up from her home, like a gentleman and held the door. "You look gorgeous" Carlos smiled checking her out. "Thank you Carlos, you look quite breath taking yourself" she breathed out.

They drove to the restaurant, talking about the most random things but racing was off the table. "If I knew how pretty you looked laughing I would've stolen you away ages ago" Carlos commented making Y/N blush. "I'm not that easy to entertain" she chided. "I know, I've been on the receiving end of some very angry stares" he laughed. "In my defence, my dad was being an ass" she spoke. "It's okay. I forgive you" he smiled.

The dinner ended rather quickly, much to the pair's dismay. "Do you want to do this again sometime?" Carlos asked hesitantly. "I would love to. Next week is off" she suggested. "Would you like to come to Monaco?" Carlos asked. "Yeah, see you then" she said kissing his cheek. "What will it take for you to kiss my lips?" he teased. "hmm..I'm a simple woman, a couple more dates maybe" she teased back. "I don't mind seeing you as often as I can but are you really going to keep me waiting?" he leaned in. "Maybe. But I could change my mind if you behave" Y/N bopped his nose and opened the door to her house biding him good night.

She was in Monaco next week, Carlos had come to pick her up from the airport and drove her around. She hadn't been in Monaco in a while. The place was warmer and the sun was shining down on them as they drove around. At night, they had dinner at a really nice Italian place. When they were walking around on the beach, "Spend the summer break with me?" Carlos asked. "I don't spend my holidays with random men" she teased. "Am I a random man?" Carlos cocked his eyebrow. "You aren't my boyfriend either" she retorted. "Well, maybe I'll ask you to be my girlfriend over the break, you'll have to find out thought" he joked. "Hmm..you drive a hard bargain Mr Sainz" she acted like she was thinking. She turned to him, "If this kiss is worth it, I might just spend the break with you" she provoked. "You're spending that break with me" he stated before he crashed his lips against her. Y/N's lips were warm and cushiony as Carlos's soft ones moved against hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and his hands found home on her waist. His nose bumping her cheek as they deepened the kiss. She pulled away, out of breath, "I guess I'm spending my break with you" she smiled at him. Carlos began to pepper his face with kisses.

The two of them had to wait for 2 more races. They were itching to be together; she couldn't go up to him and kiss his perfect face whenever she wanted. Carlos couldn't spend all his free time in the paddock with her; it was torture for the two of them.

Carlos had made up his mind, he would be signing with Williams. He saw a future and a very alluring exit clause just the way he wanted. He did mention something to Y/N about it but they didn't talk about racing during their dates.

It was the first day of the summer break, Carlos was laying in bed with Y/N in his arms; "I have an announcement to make" Carlos whispered. "At 9 in the morning" Y/N grumbled. "I'll be announcing which team I'm joining today" he spoke. "Really?" she asked, now wide awake. "yeah. I signed with Williams" he spoke slowly. It took a moment to register for Y/N and then tears prickled her eyes. She wasn't sure they were tears of joy or sorrow. "Congratulations" she croaked, kissing his lips. "I'm sorry about Logan" Carlos apologised squeezing her hips. "It's okay" she smiled weakly. "I'll make a few calls and be right back" he said getting out of bed. The video had been recorded and would be uploaded soon. Y/N was pacing around the house sending a few texts to Logan to check up on him and looking up what the fans had to say. As soon as the news went live, Y/N got a message from her dad; 'Carlos Sainz Jr is your new driver from next year' it read. She had a bitter sweet feeling reading the message.

Carlos came back, done with the initial announcement. "I'll be your engineer next year" Y/N said cupping his cheeks. "Yeah, that was one of my clauses for signing" he said cupping her cheeks too. "Will you be my girlfriend?" he asked looking into her eyes. "I don't know about mixing business and pleasure" she hesitated. "Just say yes" Carlos begged. "Promise me you won't get hurt" she asked. "I'll try my best" he replied. "Than, Yes" she said leaning in to kiss him, pushing up on her toes to close the distance. "I can't wait to kiss you in public" Carlos stated breaking the kiss. "Let's wait. After the way my dad has been courting you" she laughed. "Well I was trying to court his daughter" he retorted. "And you succeeded" she kissed him again. "Let's enjoy these 3 weeks of peace before we have to return" he said sweeping her off her feet and carrying her bridal style back to the room as she pressed open mouth kisses on his neck.

I've been working on this since the announcement. I had fun writing it. Hope you enjoy too.

[tsu-kitty]

𝓸𝓅𝓉𝒾𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒾𝒸

♡ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 › 2.0k

♡ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 › atsumu x reader, gn!reader, atsumu gets in an off-page fight over the reader, fluff.

♡ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 › after getting stood-up on a date, atsumu sees his chance to swoop in and steal your heart.

♡ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 › i only recently jumped on the atsumu train, so he may be a bit ooc, but i'm in love with what i wrote so hopefully you will be too and you can forgive me. also, not proofread, sorry, i was so excited to post this.

The tears streaming down your cheeks were cold and salty and stung when the winter wind hit your face. You hated that you were crying. It wasn’t like you were heartbroken. You didn’t even like the guy, you barely knew him. It was more that you were a hopeless romantic who accepted an offer for a coffee date despite knowing little more than the guy's name. Love was unpredictable, a mysterious being that worked in round-about ways. Maybe she had chosen this unknown blue-eyed boy from the class below yours to be your soul mate.

Alas, after stopping you on your way home to ask if you'd like to go on a date and exchanging numbers, he hadn't even possessed the human decency to reply to your messages asking where he was, if he was running late. The only response you received was the minuscule text under your message bubble reading “read”.

So, no, you weren't heartbroken. You weren't entirely sure what you were. Disappointed? Embarrassed? Both seemed to fit. Regardless, you tried to find the bright side. Maybe you’d just dodged a bullet. If his actions today spoke anything of his character, then he would have been a lousy boyfriend. 

Still, here you were, dressed up in a cute but warm baby blue and pink outfit, ready for at least a morning of cosy winter date activities. It would really be a waste of a cute outfit if you were to go home immediately. Who said you couldn’t take yourself on a nice date? 

Wiping the tears off your face, you spun on your heel, determined to not let the day be unhappy. First, you needed a snack and a warm beverage. There was an adorable cafe in the other direction that was miles better than the one your not-date had suggested.

“Oh, Y/N!”

“Atsumu?”

The tall blonde boy grinned, wiping the light sheen of sweat on his forehead away. Judging by his shoes and athletic attire, he was out on a run. “Hey, Y/N. How are you? What are you doing here?”

Miya Atsumu wasn’t someone you would consider yourself to be particularly close to, but the two of you had miraculously managed to be in the same class all throughout highschool. So, you knew him more than an acquaintance would, but less than a friend. However, you were on a given-name basis, mostly due to him having a twin brother. Atsumu had been seated behind you this first semester, though, so there was always potential for the relationship to bloom into friendship. Still, you weren’t there yet, so confessing to being stood up just moments ago was out of the question.

“Oh, um, you know, just the usual—”

“You’re crying.”

Suddenly, he was right in front of you, his nose barely ten centimetres from yours, cupping your face in his big, rough hands. His chocolate eyes were wide and concerned, pulling his thick brows together. 

“N-No, I’m not,” you stuttered, taken aback by Atsumu’s unexpected closeness. Your heart was pounding against your chest, anxiety pushing its speed faster and faster. If he got any closer, you’re sure you would pass out.

“Your eyes are red and watery,” he said with a seriousness you didn’t know he possessed. 

“I have allergies,” you lied. 

“Y/N, I’m not a complete idiot.”

“Listen, I’m fine,” you said, trying your best to avoid his eyes as you peeled his hands off your face. They were too close, too intense. “I promise. I’m already over it.”

“Okay, then what were you crying about?” he asked, bending his head to try to follow your gaze.

“It’s nothing really. I just got stood up.” You forced a smile. “But it’s okay, I’m over it really. I barely even knew the guy.”

Something in Atsumu’s expression shifted darkly before landing on a bright smile. “Oh, really? I’m sorry that happened to you. Who were you supposed to meet?”

Suspicion tickled at the back of your mind, but you told him anyway. “Furutani Hide.”

“Furutani, huh?” Atsumu pondered. “Nah, can’t say I know the guy.”

“I don’t really either,” you confessed. “He asked me out randomly at school.”

“Why’d you say yes if you don’t know him?” asked Atsumu, brows pulling together again. 

It occurred to you at that moment that his eyebrows were a lot darker than the rest of his hair. Was he a fake blonde? How had you never noticed before? His hair was kind of an unusual colour now that you really considered it.

“Well, uh… I don’t know…” you said sheepishly, twisting a ring around your finger. “My friends say I’m a hopeless romantic . I think I’m just… optimistic.”

You raised your eyes to Atsumu’s and found him staring at you eyes wide and mouth agape. Then he cleared his throat and regained his composure. Why he lost it in the first place, you weren’t sure. Maybe he… No. Had you not learnt your lesson? This was the kind of thinking that had led to you crying your eyes out not five minutes ago. 

“Either way,” Atsumu said, scratching the back of his head, “it’s his loss. I mean, can’t say I know you super well, but just from being your classmate for three years, I can tell you’re a pretty cool person.”

His words caught you off guard. 

“Really?”

Atsumu shrugged. “Yeah.”

A gentle heat rose in your cheeks. “Wow. Thanks, Atsumu.”

“Eh, no problem. Look, I gotta go, but I’ll see you at school on Monday. Try to cheer up in the meantime, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered, returning his wave as he started up his jog again. 

By the time Monday rolled around, you were completely over being stood-up and your brain was on its way to forgetting about the whole incident. That was until you happened to be passing by the teacher’s lounge when the door slid open and out trudged Furutani Hide, slouched and dazed, looking extremely worse for wear. His hair was sticking up in odd places, his tie was screwed drastically to the left against his white shirt which was oddly dirty. Worst of all, one of his nostrils was plugged with a tissue and the other was freely leaking crimson blood. 

At the sight of you, Furutani’s back straightened before he snapped at the waist, blurting, “Y/F/N, I’m terribly sorry for asking you on a date then standing you up. I am a spineless coward and will never do such a thing to anyone ever again. I will stay out of your way and never bother you again.” 

You watched slack-jawed as he bowed twice more then sprinted out of sight, down the hallway, nearly knocking over three other students. 

“Well, I’m glad we got that cleared up.”

Turning back to the teacher’s lounge, you watched  Miya Atsumu waltz towards you, hands tucked into his trouser pockets, as casual and confident as ever. He was sporting an all-too-pleased-with-himself smirk and bandaid on his cheekbone. His hair and tie were also askew, but in a slightly purposeful way. His shirt was relatively spotless but his trouser knees were stained with dust.

“Atsumu…” you said slowly, piecing together a scenario that you hoped both did and did not happen. “What did you do…?”

“Bold of you to assume I did anything,” he replied coyly, stepping almost as close as he had when you last spoke to him. “The pig probably just had a change of heart.”

“Atsumu,” you repeated, harsher than before.

Sighing, he rolled his head around his shoulders then met your questioning gaze. Were you really going to make him say it?

You didn’t falter, making a show of crossing your arms and shifting your weight onto one leg, popping your hip out.

Atsumu sighed again. “Fine. I didn’t like the fact that he stood you up on your date. Soooo… I may or may not have…” He avoided your gaze. “... told him he needed to apologise to you when I saw him at lunch.”

You waited.

“And punched him in the face.”

“Atsumu!” you gasped. Yes, you had assumed some sort of fight had occurred, but you hadn’t expected Atsumu to be the instigator. “What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t really.”

At least he could admit it.

“I was just really pissed off,” he said, shrugging.

Whilst you were flattered that a boy would get into a fight on your behalf, you really couldn’t condone that sort of behaviour. “There was no need for you to be pissed off,” you scolded him.

“He was literally flirting with some other girl,” Atsumu exclaimed, hands flying out of his pockets to emphasise the drama of his statement.

“That doesn’t matter, Atsumu,” you continued. “I’m over it. Way over it. Even if I wasn’t, it hardly concerns you, so why would you—”

“Uh, yeah, it kinda does concern me, ‘specially when it’s hurting the person that I like.”

You froze. “Oh.”

Atsumu rolled his eyes. Now, it was his turn to cross his arms judgmentally. “Yeah, ‘oh’.”

At his unexpected confession, all the words in your vocabulary had left you along with the air in your lungs.

Atsumu continued with his confession, full steam ahead stepping closer to until your own retaliation steps had you almost pressed against the wall. “You know, for someone who’s friends would call them a hopeless romantic but would prefer to describe themselves as ‘optimistic’, you really are blind to romance.” He placed his hands on the windowsill on either side of your body, caging you between his arms. “I’ve been flirting with you since the start of the year when I got seated behind you.”

Your heart was beating like you’d just run a marathon, pounding against your ribcage. You regained just enough words and air to mumble, “I thought you were just being friendly.”

“Oh my God, Y/N,” Atsumu groaned, physically deflating. “You’re so dense.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. 

“Don’t apologise,” Atsumu replied, lifting one arm to tuck a stray hair behind your ear. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I should have just been straight forward with my feelings.” His fingers trailed down and around to your jaw to pull your gaze up to his. “I like you, Y/N. Have for a while now.”

Butterflies burst in your stomach, the heat from their frantic fluttering flowing into your cheeks. 

“And, I dunno if you’re, like, traumatised by your last date, but I’m still gonna ask. Do you want to go out with me after school today? I can guarantee you there is no chance of me ditching. Plus, I sit right behind you, so you can keep an eye on me the whole time.”

He waited patiently while you processed his words. His sunny brown eyes flecked with gold and bronze watched you intensely, anticipation steadily building. It was clear to you that he was being sincere when he said he liked you. The way he was looking at you was something you had fantasised about over and over: a look of fondness and hope and unwavering affection. It was an optimist’s dream come true. 

You were right in your thoughts on love. Not about her choosing Furutani Hide as your soulmate, but about her being an unpredictable, mysterious being that worked in round-about ways. Who could have predicted that the final push for you and Atsumu would be him beating up the guy that stood you up? Not even the most hopeless of romantics.

“Yes,” you finally replied, causing Atsumu to flinch, his face lighting up. “I do want to go out with you.”

Much to your amusement, Atsumu jumped for joy, fist pumping the air in excitement. “Oh my God, that’s great. I’m so hyped, you don’t even know.”

You giggled. Yeah, this seemed more like your soulmate.

[storydays]

Brozone Random Headcannons

So I've seen the Trolls Band Together 3 times and counting and it was so good! So to get back in the groove, and after having some kind words come my way from multiple people, I really appreciate you guys! I'm gonna try a new writing style. Now remember, these are simply my opinions :)

SPOILERS AHEAD!

John Dory:

*Okay, so it is canon that Branch is 24 in the Trolls 3, which makes John Dory about 44.

*Nickname(s): JD, John

Fav color: Aquamarine and Green

Pronouns: He/Him (He supports, but is comfortable as himself)

He also gives me aromantic vibes, because like throughout the movie, he was really nonchalant when the romance bits came up, however subtle they are, he didn't give a damn lol.

JD is giving big Aries vibe with how confident he can be, pretty cheerful, and gets frustrated by tiny details, and unnecessary interruptions.

Bruce:

Bruce is the second oldest at 40

BIG Scorpio vibes!! He's strong (Y'all, have y'all seen how easily he lifted Branch when they first met) and hella independent. He was the first to question John Dory before their show, he was even hesitant to leave Vaycay Island before he sang with his brothers.

Nickname(s): Brucie, I feel like Brandy calls him that to mess with him or when she wants something. His brothers' (mostly John Dory and Clay), call him that to make fun of him as well.

Fav Color: White

DO NOT TOUCH THIS MAN'S HAIR!!!!! He will sic his kids on you and show no mercy.

Pronouns: He/Him (He's a huge ally, but he's also proud of himself.)

He loves experimenting and competing in the kitchen with Brandi, forces his brothers to try their food, and chooses whose food is going on the specials board.

Clay:

Clay is giving major middle-sibling vibes: at 35 years old.

Pronouns: He/They

Clay is non-binary and wears androgynous clothing but prefers their sweater romper and wristbands.

Nickname(s): Claybo (Viva calls him this to playfully annoy him), Clayton (Bruce and JD called him that as a kid, usually copying their mothers and grandma when they would scold him; but now call him that when he's overworked himself and they have to physically drag him to bed to rest.

Fav color: Green it was pretty obvious in the movie bc originally it was yellow when we first met him as a teen, but then we meet him later and it's green, and their whole outfit is green.

Def a Gemini! They're such a playful Troll, despite how serious he may act. But as he stated before, put some respect on his name bc they're a licensed CPA, fool!

Clay's favorite snack combo is:

Fries and a vanilla milkshake! He loves dipping the salty fries in the sweet vanilla.

They talk in their sleep, mostly about tax evasion and hot chocolate?

Hates doing their hair, Viva has to wait until he's sleeping for her to brush his tangles out.

Floyd:

Floyd is the second youngest at 32

He's such a Pisces! He's so empathetic, compassionate, and oh, so sensitive.

Pronouns: He/Him

He and Clay definitely go all out for Pride (Bc Trolls are literally all spectrums of the rainbow! We learned that in Trolls 2! It'd be impossible NOT to have a big party for Pride), and drag their brothers and are literally so hype at the whole event and crashes MEGA hard the next morning and sleeps for a good 12 hours.

Floyd remained friends with Veneer because, c'mon they were vibing. He could see Veneer wanted someone to see him, so he convinced the Mount Rageous police to let the twins out for Pride.

Had a long talk with Velvet and helped her to see the error of her ways, and she began to be nicer to Veneer and listen to him.

Fav color is Black. He knows he slays the Rock Troll look.

I'm gonna settle this once and for all: Floyd is gay. The one earring in his right ear is a shout-out to his voice actor who is an openly gay singer.

Nickname(s): Flo (I feel like Branch couldn't pronounce Floyd's name yet when he was just learning to talk, so he called him Flo and it stuck.) Floydie (when his brothers tease him about his crush that he refuses to name.)

The hair in his face is like a comfort thing for him. He knows his hair is soft, and when he's bored, he plays with it, and twirls it around his fingers.

Floyd definitely has a collection of journals, from his songwriting to venting his feelings, and even (poorly drawn) doodles of his family.

Branch:

He is the youngest at 24 as stated earlier.

Pronouns: He/Him

Fav color: Midnight blue like his hair

This dude is hella smart; like has a super high IQ, but is super chill about it.

He and Poppy are that meme: Tired X Energetic on a level 10!

Nickname: Branchifer (Poppy calls him that when she's calling him out on his attitude or when she's about to start teasing him.)

Def an Aquarius: highly intellectual, creative, and likes to join in on social interactions when it's on his time. Poppy learned the hard way why she shouldn't force him to join in.

Similar to Floyd, he was a bunch of notebooks filled with songs he'd written.

Branch is shy when it comes to family PDA, like if his brothers were to group hug him, or if they tried to mother him, and gets especially prickly when they baby-talk him in front of others.

This dude is the prince of sarcasm, clearly picking that trait up from all his brothers. Like bro, why are you so sarcastic?!

Is undeniably the most sarcastic of the brothers. (His nieces and nephews start to pick up on that, much to Bruce's horror. Brandi thinks it's hilarious.)

Doesn't really like kids, but absolutely adores his nephew Bruce Jr ( I mean he loves them all, but has a soft spot for that boy.) Bruce Jr is autistic and nonverbal and struggles to communicate. I believe he uses TSL (Troll Sign Language), and when Branch learns this, he starts signing fluently with his nephew, surprising everyone, especially Bruce Jr, because not many people can sign so fluently, but then Branch explains, that he learned when he was younger because you could go deaf at any moment and it's such a useful skill.

Bruce Jr shows Branch his blueprints that he's made and honestly, if they wanted to, they could take over the world.

That's all for now! Let me know what you guys think!

A big shout out to @vacayisland appreciate you! This one’s for you 🥰

[tarnished-butsogrand]

To Liam,

It's so strange that I just couldn't bring myself to create anything to honour the role you've played in my life. It's like I cannot allow myself to say goodbye to you, trying to push back the inevitability of it. This permanent goodbye that I don't want to speak into existence.

"Let's leave it unsaid, just one more second

If you don't say it, then it ain't true yet"

When I first 'met' you, I was newly thirteen and I saw your music video 'One Thing' on TV. I had excitedly texted my best friend at the time, gushing about five cute guys on TV that were singing, "Get out, get out, get out of my bed" which amused my friend to no extent. It was the start of a character defining moment in my life, and I didn't even know it then.

It was hard to keep up with you guys, our access to the internet was limited. Watching YouTube videos back then was a task. I would go to all lengths to do so anyway, because it felt like I had five friends who I could joke around with. That's the strangest thing. I so desperately wanted to be friends with you guys. Not date. Just friendship. Looking back at that time, I almost feel sorry for how lonely I was to depend on five guys who didn't know of my existence for friendship, but then I don't. I don't know what kind of person I would have become if I had been oblivious of your existence. Now, I have had so many friends that I have met/ talked to through you. I am not in touch with all of them, but I felt like a part of a community.

You'll never feel like you're alone

I'll make this feel like home.

You taught me to dream. For the longest time, I was adamant I would form a band myself, and be famous and meet you guys. I was so sure of it! I could never afford to buy albums, or the movies, the books even though I desperately wished to. Then, for my eighteenth birthday, I finally got my hands on your book and the This Is Us movie

It was my dream, to meet you guys one day, all of you, and have you sign this book. I would tell you how much you inspired me, helped this little girl in a little town dream of going places. Gave her hope she could make it out of there one day.

I am so grateful for that.

It's hard to think you were together as a band for only five years because it sure felt like ages back then. There was always so much... Drama! I still remember the day Zayn left the band. The best friend who had first heard my atrocious interpretation of your lyrics, she was the one who broke the news to me. My chapattis and okra curry seemed extra salty that day. My family was surprised. What is she crying for? I would tell them and they would try to keep from laughing. It felt like the world had ended, but everything carried on as usual.

Life went on, I begrudgingly decided against pursuing a career in music. It's so funny, isn't it? You guys were living the dream and consequently taught me how to dream. And now, you've left us because of it and I'm still here because I didn't pursue it (not saying I would have become as famous as you, or famous at all). I got into medical school. By that time, you were already three years deep into your 'hiatus'. I would hear about you, now and then. Maybe listen to a single or two. Loved Strip That Down. Loved your interviews. Loved For You. Was waiting for an album.

I kind of lost touch with the 1D fandom and you. In the blink of an eye, 2020 was here. I got back to the fandom right in time for the 1D 10 years anniversary. I was sure it wouldn't have any effect on me. I was grown up now. Then I bawled my eyes out to Fireproof and I realised I was still a sucker, and I would always be.

Nobody knows you, baby, the way I do

It's been so long, it's been so long

We must be fireproof

Then I realised. It wasn't the same anymore. When I left, people were excited about everyone's solo careers. Five times the fun, right? Everything had... Shifted. There were camps and groups and, it just wasn't actually the same. I was horrified. Blogs dedicated to hate certain members, the word 'flopped' being used incessantly when it came to them. And bearing the brunt of the most of it was, you.

I don't want to go back and rehash it all, it's too painful, but you know what? I would have that time back in an instant if it meant you were still out there. Alive. When the possibility of this happening was so damn preposterous, not even the craziest fanfiction could have a plot line like this.

I don't want to say I felt sorry for you, because that makes you seem small. You had talked about your struggles, but you had also gotten better. I heard Heart Meet Break and I heard Weekend. They sound so ominous right now.

Heart meet break, lips meet drink

Rock meets bottom, to the bottom I sink.

Fuck.

I come alive on the weekend

I might die on the weekend

Another line for my demons.

All the while, facing vitriol that was frankly alarming. There was nothing you could say or do that wasn't criticised or scrutinized. I felt helpless but I was determined, once again that the tide would turn. That people would see you for the kind soul that you really are.

Let me tell you, LP1 was damn good! I hope you're proud of that album, wherever you are, because you smashed it! And your First Time EP? Still mad that Slow wasn't on your main album, like who made that decision? I am sorry people didn't pay more attention to your music, because it is amazing! Your voice, of course. That note in Bedroom Floor-you aren't real, you know?

And your videos during the lockdown? And your LP shows? You kept us entertained and happy. We loved watching you do the thing you love the most.

Oh, Liam. Then I gradually drifted apart again. I wasn't there when you came out saying you had been sober. I wasn't aware it had gotten worse. I don't know why, but this October, I listened to your music for the first time in a long while. It's so strange. Just a few days later-

I still can't believe it, Liam. I still can't believe you have left us. I can't believe that this is the end, this is how you had to go. With the world still against you. You didn't get your chance at redemption, you didn't get your chance to prove to everyone how amazing you were! You had so much love left to give. Everyone talked about how you checked up on them frequently. I am sorry there was no one to do that for you. I am sorry for the way you were treated. I am sorry you didn't get the help you needed, I am sorry that we can't enjoy more of your songs, your voice, your paintings and most of all, that laugh where your eyes all crinkle up, and your body physically rocks with it, and for a moment you become the embodiment of sunshine.

You were just a boy, who had one working kidney and the other that miraculously started working. You were just a boy that had a fear of spoons and loved dinosaurs. You were just a boy who apparently couldn't read but wrote so many songs for One Direction that we hold close to our heart. You were just a boy who warned people against snake habitats, and dropped tubs of pasta on your floor. You were just a boy who is loved by so many, whose loss will weigh heavy on our hearts for the rest of our lives.

I'll never forget you. And I promise, I will make all my dreams come true. Maybe not the singing part, but the rest. Hope you're happy, Leeyum. I hope they're treating you better than we did.

How can I forget someone

Who gave me so much to remember?

With love, always

Rini

[heeliopheelia]

"you know i'm always there for you, right?" (jay x reader)

genre: comfort fic word count: 0.6k requested by @i-am-confused-about-life ♡

a/n: i'm so down bad for him it's not even funny anymore... also, i hope you guys don't mind another comfort fic bcs i still have one more in the storage!!

masterlist

At the verge of tears, you shut the door behind you and toe off your shoes. The moment that your gaze lands on your boyfriend who's way too absorbed in some tv show to notice you coming back from work, you let out a relieved sigh. That's enough to break his focus and he turs his head towards your silhouette entering the living room.

"Oh, hey, honey," he greets you, his attention now entirely directed at your pitiful pout. "I haven't heard you come in."

Instead of replying, you drop down on his lap, body instantly curling into his familiar frame, seeking for comfort. Without any questions needed, Jay wraps his arms around you and envelops you with his body warmth. The tears that have been constantly pushing at the back of your eyes for the most of the day finally make their way out, immediately making you feel lighter even with the salty streams running down your cheeks. You close your eyes with a sigh and nuzzle your face into his neck.

The broken sound of your sobs unintentionally breaks Jay's heart in two and he tightens his hold on you. With his hand on the back of your head, he presses your face into his chest until your almost unable to breathe, and yet the gesture brings you all the comfort that you need.

"Do you need anything, princess?" Jay asks quietly when your breathing eventually evens out, rubbing his hands on your back gently.

You shake your head. "No, just you."

Jay hums, leaving a kiss on the side of your head.

"You know I'm always there for you, right? You don't have to talk about it, I just want you to know that."

You nod your head, sniffling as you tighten your arms around his neck. For the entire day you couldn't wait to see him, knowing he's going to understand you like no one else. He's never pushy with asking for any explanations or reasons for your occasional mood drops and yet knows the best way to bring comfort to your heart. Within couple minutes he can shush out all of the anxiety or sadness you've been stuck with for hours, which is just why you love coming back home to his warm arms so much.

You pull away slightly, not too far away, only to look at him with a wobbly smile. Jay's heart squeezes tightly as he notices how your usually so bright eyes now twinkle with sadness, so he lowers his head and brushes his nose against yours gently, using his thumb to wipe the tears away from your cheeks. You close your eyes almost instantly, leaning into his warm hand and letting him caress your skin before he leans in and closes the gap between your lips.

"I love you," you whisper in between the kisses, slightly lightheaded yet never wanting to part with him.

Jay draws out a long kiss on your lips, letting it be slow and deep and just enough to try his best at pouring all of his affection and care on you. And he succeeds at it as you clench your eyes tighter, allowing all of his raw love for you soak you to the bones. You bask in it, all of your walls crumbling down as a pair of his plush lips meets the tip of your nose with a butterfly touch.

"I love you too, angel. So much it's pathetic, really." You let out a small giggle at his words, watching softly as Jay's eyes instantly light up at the sound. With his hands caressing your sides, he presses another kiss to your jawline and grins happily as a smile finally makes its way on your lips. "There's my pretty girl."

permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @satoruskitchenrag @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @yoongspi

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 88 (Bringing Home a Ghost)

After Ghost Night ended at the Salty Paw, Heather, Conrad, and their new friend Felix Psyded left Fisherman's Wharf and returned to their home on Sable Square. Heather entered first, finding Hazel on the sofa watching TV. "Hey, how were the kids tonight?"

"They were great! Ashy said you guys usually read him two bedtime stories but he fell asleep after the first one, and Lava hasn't woken up since I put her to bed. I got to watch Moonlight Massacre after all! How was your night?"

"It was nice! We went looking for a man we didn't find, but we met someone else while we were there..."

Conrad walked inside the front door as Felix floated in behind him. Heather stood, and Hazel looked up from her phone in quiet awe. "Felix Psyded, Esquire. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, miss."

"Hazel Moody-Nesbitt," she replied. "Heather's cooler younger sister. You're, like, really a ghost!"

"Since 1915." He warmly tipped his bowler hat. "May I say, you're stunning like your sister."

"You may say! But I'm married."

"Of course the lovely Nesbitt women would all be spoken for. Though I hope your husband is friendlier than Sargent Gordon."

Hazel laughed. "My wife is sweet, but Conrad's great! Are you the one guy in the world he doesn't get along with?"

Heather sighed, sliding over to make room for Conrad on the sofa. "They got off on the wrong foot."

"Well, why'd you bring him home? I know you love strays, but I didn't think that meant sims who've been dead for over a century!"

"They've promised me a plate of ambrosia in exchange for my services."

Hazel gaped. "When you guys said you were doing this challenge I just thought it was, like, a team building exercise. I didn't think you were really going to resurrect anybody!"

Heather shrugged. "Well, why shouldn't we? We went through all that to learn how to do it, so we might as well help someone with unfinished business while we're at it."

"So is that it, then? No one dies, they just get to live again with ambrosia?"

"Not everyone's unfinished business is to live again. Some die so old, with bodies so used and broken, living again isn't worth it. Even some of the younger ones. Everyone is different and fascinating in their own way, which is why I took to studying ghosts and their stories in the first place."

"He's going to help us figure out if Conrad met a ghost out on Deadgrass Isle."

Hazel grinned as Conrad stood to shoo one of their chickens back outside. "You're fighting crime by day and paranormal activity by night? Holly was right, Conrad. You're basically a superhero."

He blushed, and Felix turned a dour look in his direction. Ending the tense conversation in the living room, Hazel left to return home.

Heather and Conrad left Felix on the sofa and headed to bed. But before they'd changed into pajamas, she blurted her question with concern. "What's going on with you? I've never seen you snappier with anyone than you were tonight with Felix. Like I brought home two ghosts tonight instead of one."

"He was kind of acting like a dick."

Heather nodded. "And you met him there. That's not like you. Is it George Brindleton again?"

"No, George has been quiet. He and his wife spend a lot of the winter in Sulani every year." He could see Heather found this insufficient and kept talking. "I'm just dealing with a lot. I know I wasn't really myself tonight. There's this one case I can't crack and it's making me a little crazy."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I do, but I can't say much about it."

"I know. Confidential. But I want to give you whatever you need to be able to keep your work life at work, and not take the stress home. Not even for me and the kids, because you're so good to us. That's not the issue. I'm worried about you, and I want you to talk to me. The night we got engaged, you promised you would always tell me how you're feeling."

Joining her on the bed, he held her hand against his chest. "When I've finally solved the case, I'll tell you everything. I promise."

She grinned. "Not every gory detail, I hope."

"Do I ever? I don't want to think about the case tonight. I don't want to think about the ghost in our living room. All I want to focus on the rest of the night is you."

They made love before Heather fell asleep in Conrad's arms, (at least temporarily) satisfied by their conversation. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: I debated whether or not to bring Felix Psyded and his lore into this generation because there's a university generation much, much later in this challenge, but Felix was the first ghost that showed up to Ghost Night, sat right next to them and was immediately enamoured with Heather. So my mind spun with a bunch of possibilities for him and I went for it, even though he's mentioned in urban legends for UBrite students and those obviously won't be canon to my timeline anymore.

The In Bloom challenge doesn't have anything related to Felix in the challenge rules, even in the university generation, and Reaper Rewards didn't even require use of the ambrosia Heather made. But I wasn't going to do all that and not fully finish what they started. They're not really the type to lure sims into a cowplant just to test whether ambrosia works, no one in my save needed to die and be brought back, and I have a plan now for Felix! @pixeldistractions mentioned a possible prequel flashback and I'll never say never, but setting up an early-20th Century photo save will take a while if I do it, so no promises. I am invested in him getting a happy ending to his second life, however!

[nifflermini]

It's kind of hard not to look (Hajime Iwaizumi x Reader)

In which you wonder why Oikawa gets fangirls, and his hot best friend doesn't.

Also, I've been wanting to write for this guy, so my Iwa readers and writers, lemme know how I did, because this was very fun :)

Dividers by @anitalenia

Warning: Slight mention of blood, and A little rushed.

"Your lip is bleeding." My eyes shot up to my friend, who smirked at me as my focus soon drifted back over to the boy who I'd been harboring a secret crush on since our second year of middle school. My tongue flicked across my lip tasting the salty iron of blood, and pretending to focus on my notes. She sighed. “when are you finally gonna tell him? This is getting ridiculous, y’know. It’s been four years.” She said, turning back to her notes, and focusing way better than I ever could.

“it is fully logical, thank you very much!” I defended, eyes rolling, before cursing quietly as I realized I was just highlighting all over my notes, not actually paying attention to said notes.

“yeah, it’s perfectly logical to not talk to the guy you like.”

“wellI haven’t seen you try to make a move on Oikawa, what’s your excuse?”

“please.” She snorted. “Everyone wants a piece of that. His eyes, his hair, that intense look he gets in his eyes when he’s about to serve.” A soft sigh fell from her lips. But I saw the twitchy smile in her lips. “What I wouldn’t give…” she murmured, putting a dramatic hand to her forehead.

“Ew” I said, my nose scrunched as I nudged her.

“My point is, he has countless fangirls.” She said, looking down at her notes, and copying some from mine. "You know there's no room in that mess for a real relationship." She pointed out, sighing softly. Her face was turned away from mine, and I took the chance to steal a glance at Iwaizumi again. How can anyone look so cute when they're annoyed? My eyes darted to his best friend next, looking him over. He was cute I guess, but I didn't see the appeal in someone just being physically attractive. I saw Oikawa's eyes move over here and I froze. Crap. Did he see? I stayed looking over at him, before realizing it wasn't me, he was looking at. I felt a small smirk tug at my lips. I looked between Oikawa and the mess of a girl sitting next to me. I knew she had a crush on him, but now, something was telling me that it wasn't so one-sided anymore. What changed though? That's my question... She turned back to face me, cheeks a little pinker than usual.

"Your face is-"

“i know. We're not talking about it. Another point I'm trying to make is that I know is that your man is free. And has been single all of high school! Come on, just go talk to him!” She whisper-hissed just as the bell rung. My eyes shadowed his tall, unsurprisingly buff figure to his seat, a dopey smile on my face, before I felt a familiar sting against my arm. I glared at the snickering girl, turning back to face the teacher as he started the lesson.

Maybe one day I will go talk to him. For now, I’m just left to wonder why everyone goes for Oikawa when Iwaizumi is right there. With his quiet discipline, and attentiveness to almost every detail, wether it be in that trash panda Oikawa or in any one of Seijoh's matches. Plus, he has those olive eyes I would willingly wrap myself up in, that spiky hair that I would give anything to run my hand through just once. And those lips I would- He turned around to look at me and I looked back, surprised, and I think my heart actually skipped a beat, Who knew that was physically possible? He smiled at me and it's a good thing I'm standing because my legs would've turned to jelly.

I sat there smiling like an idiot until I felt the familiar thwack! against my arm, as well as noticing his subtle hints to pay attention to the teacher. My eyes trailed around the classroom. It's not just Iwaizumi who's looking at me, which means- I smiled sheepishly at the teacher, who was currently staring at me in that special disapproving way that told me if I didn’t answer soon, I was in trouble. I noticed movement in my peripherals, and my eyes fixated on that. Iwaizumi’s hand showing me numbers under his table. He repeated the same numbers again, and I glanced at the board before my eyes lit up, spotting the equation. Bleh. Math... wait. One... Four... oh wait! My eyes widened and I sat up straight. “Oh, uh, 14! X=14!” I said hopefully, and the teacher smirked, knowing full well that I wasn't paying attention, even subtly glancing between me and the object of my terrible crush.

"Nice save." The teacher commended, eyes subtly darting to Iwaizumi, before he turned back to the green chalkboard... Green... Iwa...My eyes drifted to the back of his head, occasionally writing down a stray phrase or two. However, after taking a small break ot take some actual notes, I spotted him looking back at me. Why is he looking at me? My stomach lurched with butterflies. Please don't be looking at me... I glanced back over. Instantly knew I was a goner. He wasn’t looking at me, thankfully, instead looking at the teacher (Lucky bastard.) like the good student he was....

but the way the sun streamed through the window? Yes, while it was blinding, also made him look that much more attractive. It brought out the green in his eyes, made his jawline look more pronounced. IS he smiling? My cheeks flushed warm when his eyes met mine, and my stomach flipped again, eyes darting back to my notebook. I felt another sting of pain looking to my friend with a slight murmur of annoyance.

“Told you shouldn’t ogle.” My friend whispered, poking me with a #2 pencil and grating on my nerves with a familiar 'Called it' smirk.

“i know… it’s just…" My eyes trailed back to his, heart skipping yet another beat when mine met his. "Its hard not to look…” I breathed.

Maybe that someday was a little closer than I thought. Sure he was hot, and yeah, it was a little intimidating. He was a little intimidating.

But a little intimidation, or even potential awkwardness...

It's worth it to get a good look, right?