#you just got me so happy i can't STOP smiling!

[mrs-starkgaryen]

Maggie I'm sorry I didn't write this essay, as you know I was not impressed with how the last chapter went 😭😂

Me as I read chapter 5:

This is a long one so get comfy, have a drink and listen- 📖

1. When Baela wanders out of the bathroom in a fuzzy purple robe and a gale of steam, she finds you dressed in your grey work uniform and sprinkling a packet of flower food you got from the Rite Aid down the street into the vase of sunflowers. You are smiling to yourself; you can’t seem to stop.

A) she just sounds as if she's on an advert for something 😫 or modelling on the cat walk, amongst the smoke machines. Like effortlessly cool, you what I mean?

B) like she's always model ready and glam. Like she's always camera ready 📷📸

C) whereas sunshine is in grey and buying things from a cheap shop (I presume?)

D) aw she's cock drunk in love, cute

2. “Heyyyyy!” Baela says, slow and salacious, hoping for interesting stories. You very rarely have any to share. “How’d the Maroon 5 shoot go? Not so bad, right?”

A) I'm getting vibes from B, she sounds okay sometimes but totally fake the other times- Hollywood baby, gotta be careful who u trust

B) and it went absolutely great

3. “It was good.” You rearrange the sunflowers, pruning any leaves that have begun to wilt. Daylight streams in through the windows; outside you can see power lines, palm trees, a shopping center featuring—among other things—a Starbucks, World Star Vape, and Carl’s Jr.

A) Sunshine is trying to keep a dying thing alive- like her dreams? Her need to be constantly happy? Her ‘cursed’ relationship with Aegon?

B) Everything Is sunny & happy & lively … for now

C) 3 places with addicting things or quick fixes… like a certain relationship? For both parties?

4. “And you survived the bathtub thing, I see.” Her tone implies that you were ridiculous to ever fear you wouldn’t, childish, ignorant, histrionic.

A) How condescending

B) Some people are different and Sunshine shouldn't have to go through that to get famous

C) It's sad to think some actors/actresses would have had to

5. “What?” She reaches into the refrigerator and removes a plastic bowl full of raspberries, sets it down on the kitchen counter, eats absentmindedly as she stares at you. “Really? Why not?”

A) What a healthy choice

B) is She just programmed To eat healthy like for HW aesthetic? (Couldnt be me)

C) Rather have doughnuts

6. You shrug, a little shy but desperately wanting to tell somebody, because that will make it real. Blood burns in your face. “Aegon saved me.”

A) Don't tell B

B) Aw Sunshine is so cute, she thinks of Aegon as her Prince or Knight in shining armour

C) But will he just remove the helmet and show that hes not the hero she thought he was

7. Baela’s eyes narrow and her brow crinkles. You find yourself—as you often do—casually in awe of the smoothness of her skin, the perfect arches of her eyebrows, her expressiveness that is never inelegant. She chews her raspberries very slowly. “Seriously?”

A) She always seem perfect, HW ready

B) Drop the skincare Routine girl

C) Shes angry chewing 😭

8. Her jaw drops open; there’s berry juice on her teeth like blood. “How? Where?!”

A) She Sounds like a predator animal with Sunshine in her sights

B) More untrustworthy vibes

C) I reckon she might screw Sunshine over by telling the tabloids about her Relationship with Aegon, to level uo her career. Or does it out of anger when ss gets more famous than her? Sabotage?

D) pretends to be a friend but is a villain in the end, like Scream

9. “No, remember, he’s not married. He’s just engaged.”

A) Yeah!😠…😶… yeah🫠…

B) I love you SS, but that's not the hair that we should be splitting…

10. “It’s the same thing!” Baela exclaims, and she has completely forgotten about her raspberries. “You’re a cheater, how does that make you feel?”

A) Can't argue with B on this, still bad

B) Lets be a bit nicer to SS please, she's just a baby (but she does need telling)

11. You shake your head; she doesn’t understand. “I know it sounds bad, but when I’m with Aegon…he’s just so…he’s so protective and he’s smart and he’s brave and he actually believes in me, he’s the only person who doesn’t think I’m hopeless and delusional, and he’s always trying to help me, and there’s something about when we’re together that just feels…magical!”

A) Girl, SS, write some fanfic, geez 😅

B) She in love love

C) She in love love (like me)

D) Also me when I try to excuse men's behaviours on dating sites 🙄

12. “Of course it’s magical!” Baela bursts out, and now Jace is peeking blearily out of her bedroom, his dark curls in disarray. “He’s a fuckboy, that’s what they do! He gives you some otherworldly encapsulated experience that leaves you dickmatized but it’s not real, because then he goes home and he does the same thing with his soon-to-be-wife, and then the next day he’s probably hooking up with some other impressionable starstruck client, and you’re standing here thinking you have something special with him when he’s already onto the next girl!”

A) You've woken the baby (Jace), B

B) Dickmatized- don't we all want that to be that

C) So… weird thought but has something Like that happened to B with a manager or dare I say it, Aegon?

D) Or does she know him better than we think?

13. You can’t imagine that being true, and yet you wonder without wanting to: why did he have condoms in his desk drawer? “I don’t think he’s happy with Becca.”

A) i asked about the condoms!! It was sus

B) Me with all my celebrity crushes- “I don't think he's happy with [ ]

C) also what condoms does he use? 👀

14. You look down at your shoes, uninspired white Skechers for work, ashamed. “I guess not.”

A) Woah I wear white sketchers Mags

B) They're comfy lol

15. “Who talks shit about Jace?” Jace asks from the doorway of her bedroom.

A) poor Jace

B) But also maggie does- I've seen what she does to your in fanfics… 👀

16. “—They say he’s a hobosexual and lazy and jobless and whatever, but that man is loyal, he doesn’t even look at other women, and I wouldn’t trade him for anybody. Because apparently it’s extremely fucking rare to find someone who won’t get naked for the first stranger who promises to make all their wildest dreams come true.”

A) Jace just standing there like-

B) It's okay Jace, I know you're better than that (Im actually looking forward to your future fic)

17. .. you remember years ago finding the emails between your father and that hospital intern, and you marvel at how easy it is to fixate on one star and lose sight of the constellation.

A) The last line 😘👌

B) We all make mistakes but she's only done it the once… but will it stay like that? 👀

C) It's easy to judge until you're in that position..

18. Baela tosses the empty plastic bowl into the kitchen sink—it rattles harshly there—and casts you a hard glare as she stalks towards her bedroom in her purple bathrobe. “I am so disappointed in you.”

A) Plastic, plastic, plastic- v much like HW

B) Easy to throw away… Careless of what she does and who she hurts (my tabloid theory)

C) Alright mum sheesh

19. Baela stops and turns around, and now her face is all pity, like you’re too pathetic to stay mad at, like you aren’t cognizant enough to be held responsible. “Yeah. We’re still going to see the fireworks.”

A) Me with my dog, can't stay mad at my baby

20. “Jace can stay here when I’m in Paris, right?” Baela asks. “He swears he’ll vacuum and take the garbage out and stuff. And you know he won’t fill up the sink with dirty dishes, he basically only eats takeout.”

A) Oh so he is capable of looking after himself..

B) SS please make him a proper meal, he needs nutrition

C) I hope SS and Jace bond whilst B ain't there, like best besties but will that only upset Aegon more if he finds out?

21. All afternoon as you are bent low scraping scoops of ice cream out of the freezer and mashing in mix-ins on the chilled countertop, each time the glass door opens and the string of bells jangle you look up to see if it’s Aegon, because maybe he’s found you another job or maybe he just misses you, and he’s daydreaming of you now in the sweltering sunshine that rains down golden and cloudless. But your only customers are strangers: flocks of influencers in yoga pants who pick at Like It-sized sorbets, flustered mothers trying to relay their lisping children’s orders, giggling couples on dates who you love watching, the way their eyes are alight and their fingers forever ache to intertwine.

A) Even as she's in hell at work, her Salve is Aegon (even if he dont show up)

B) Aw she misses Aegon (me too)

C) I hate couples too gorl, how dare they be happy, rubbing it in our faces

22. … your breathing still labored from the hike and guzzling cans of La Croix that Baela packed, awful as always but not so bad when you feel like you’re dying of thirst. As you wait for the fireworks to start, you take a few selfies with the distant incandescent mirage of Downtown to the northeast, towards Chinatown and Elysian Park, towards Apple Valley, Minnesota if you drove far enough.

A) Me and Sunshine are the same? Both hating walks? Damn

B) That drink, she only likes it when it's her last resort. Like any products of HW- she will do anything but that but uses it when she has no other choice? like plastic surgery, etc

C) Shes being pulled in so many directions. What will she choose? Hw & fame or Minnesota, home?

23. In the two minutes you spend debating whether to watch it, he has seen yours, liked it, and replied: Miss America 2025.

A) Alright babe, a bit of a stalker

B) He can calm Down too lmao- so flirty & thirsty (it should be me 😫)

24. “What are you grinning about?” Baela asks from where she is sitting in Jace’s lap, his arms around her waist, and you can’t tell her because you don’t want to make her mad again.

A) Stalker 2

B) Leave Ss to be happy

C) Unless B is sus and has an idea of who SS is talking to…

25. “Just something my sister sent me.” You click on Aegon’s story; he is standing beside a massive grill covered with hotdogs and hamburger patties, wielding a pair of tongs, and wearing his aviator sunglasses and a green apron with seemingly nothing underneath. You like it and reply: I have literally never wanted a hotdog so bad in my life.

A) Bl**dy hell, she's thirsty too

B) But Mags, that image was too hot

C) Like was he naked? 👀

D) I'm a vegetarian but I'd break it for his sausage

26. “You better post the picture we took together,” Baela tells you. “We looked cute as fuck!”

A) Alright B, calm down

B) Why don't you post it?

C) Sort of controlling? Like she never asks, just sort of demands?

27. “You were okay,” Baela says, and they both laugh.

A) i know couples joke but she's never very complimentary with him

B) He deserves better

C) I reckon she could drop him to up her career cuz he's not famous, and seems like a waste

28. “It’s a really good photo,” you agree. And it proves that you have friends to do activities with, that you aren’t quite as pathetic and alone in Los Angeles as your parents and Clara and Tripp and Mason might think. You post it as a story: you and Baela smiling together, Jace in the background brandishing a peace sign. You add a bunch of red, white, and blue hearts for decoration. Aegon watches your new story within a few minutes, but he doesn’t reply. He doesn’t even like it. You frown down at your screen, confused.

A) She needs some friends (please Jace)

B) As an instagram story so its not around forever (like B's presence will Not be)

C) Ooh why he mad? I hate men lmao

29. “Oh look, it’s starting, it’s starting!” Baela says excitedly, and now there are booming explosions in the darkening sky and threads of shimmering remnants descending like falling stars.

A) Yes it's starting… the drama & explosions start now

30. You are early for your appointment because you want to see Aegon again, and you don’t even try to tell yourself it’s for any other reason. It’s Tuesday, July 8th, and there are still charred firework wrappers and singed sparklers strewn on the sidewalk. You find a parking spot a ways down the street from Aegon’s half-duplex and trot to the front door. You are wearing your tan TOMS wedges, a top the color of dark fertile earth, a green maxi skirt, and swampy verdant eyeshadow to match: matte brown Rewind and sparkly emerald Damaged, both by Urban Decay.

A) Atleast she ain't delusional, that helps

B) He's in such a dump - shows that LA ain't all the glitz and glam- will Sunshine see that?

C) Very dark, earthy tones… calm before the storm?

D) ‘Rewind’ she wants to go back to that night, ‘Damaged’ she will be after this conversation

31. "Aegon must be hella stressed lately because he’s always mixing things up and forgetting appointments, then he yells at me but feels bad about it afterwards and pays me overtime. Well worth it! I think it’s the wedding. Becca’s constantly showing up asking for his opinion about cakes and decorations and whatever and it’s just a lot.”

A) Oh he's always mixing things up… hopefully he'll mix up his fiance soon

B) Becca stresses him out! SS doesn't.. see how that could work

32. Mario is traversing a narrow stone pathway surrounded by a sea of blood-red lava. Aegon’s tank top is the color of the pine trees back in Minnesota; the unbuttoned short-sleeve Oxford shirt he’s thrown overtop is white and wrinkled. The room has been tidied up... Honeycrisp apples filling up a bowl that is blue china instead of plain bone-colored ceramic.

A) Mario again… reflecting Aegon’s medical journey/ life

B) Narrow- meaning he can only go one way in life (get married, give up LA and whatever else)

C) Blood-red lava- either Mario is the disease in his body/ bloodstream (narrow- vein)

D) His tank is the colour of the trees from her home? He's her home?

E) Also earthy colour, they're matching. Both each other’s home

F) Wrinkled white top- he's a disgruntled angel (he's trying his best to help SS) (or dying soon lmao)

G) He's still got a piece of her around, the apples (highlighted in colour, not the plain white of LA)

33. “Hey,” Aegon says, glancing at you but still clicking buttons and swiveling the joystick on his transluscent orange controller.

A) He's paying half attention to her.. whilst he also concentrates on the game (his medical issues taking over his life whilst he tries to be there for her?)

34. “Are you winning?” you ask, meaning the game. Mario veers off the precarious walkway and into the lava, screams and tries to leap to safety, sails over a stone island, hits the lava again and dies.

A) she cares about his interests and him 😭

B) Does she distract him? And is there bad repercussions? (Becca leaving?)

C) Aegon/ Mario is struggling to get back to safety?

35. Aegon chuckles; he sounds tired. His bruised knuckles, five days gone, have sickened to a ghastly green and plumes of opaque violet. “I guess not.” He turns off the Nintendo 64. “How was your 4th of July?”

36. Aegon gives you a disapproving look like he doesn’t quite believe you. You can’t fathom why. “I might have another job for you.”

A) He's tired 😫

A) He's jealous girl

B) We love to see it

37. “Really? Great!” But despite the good news, you’re beginning to feel like you’re sinking. You keep waiting for Aegon to acknowledge what happened here, what you both did, what you were to each other even if only for a few hours under the cover of darkness.

A) Sinking… like the Titantic reference from the first chapter in this office

B) I feel bad vibes about to happen

38. “There’s a casting call for a very minor part in a new Marvel movie. I’m sure that’s not exactly your dream role, and it’s not really what I see you doing either, but you said you’d take anything and it’s an opportunity to get you in front of some big-name people. So I booked you a spot.”

A) We love Marvel (just watched Marvel today actually lmao)

B) SS would be cute as a superhero or sidekick

C) Aegons so clever

39. “I’m keeping an eye on the indie projects that make it to pre-production. I can imagine you shining in a niche little thriller, maybe a romantic drama…you do angry really well, you know. Which is strange, because you’re never angry in real life. But that’s what makes you an actress. You become other kinds of people.”

A) He doesn't see her angry… I feel like he just needs to wait lmao

B) also he might also underestimate her himself? Cuz she seems nice all the time?

C) A romantic drama? No need babe, she's already in one

40. Aegon studies you, his Nike Killshots still resting lazily on his desk. His blonde hair is slicked back from his face; his eyes are a remote somber blue like the ocean through an airplane window. “You alright, sunshine?”

A) What is it about these shoes??

B) He's so beautiful ugh

C) And he cares 😭

41. Slowly, Aegon smiles, and there’s something about his voice that strikes you as smug, maybe taunting, maybe even cruel. “It was that good for you, huh?”

A) Nevermind, jackass

B) But I'd still swoon 😅

C) After punching him

D) is this the real him or an act?

42. Aegon is stunned. He scrambles to his feet. “What—?”

A) Well done, you've made her upset

B) Me too

C) be nicer with your words, you know she's sensitive

43. “Then come back here.”

A) Me skipping my way back after that demand

B) Anything for you King

C) I need higher standards lmao but I blame it on him

44. Aegon sits down too, places his elbows on his desk, laces his fingers together and presses them against his lips as he gazes at you, his large blue eyes glossy and pained. After a while, he says quietly: “This is exactly what I didn’t want. For you to be hurt, for you to be sad.”

A) Ooh he serious

B) Stop with the eyes 😫🥰 ill forgive him too easily 🙈 I won't look

C) He throws my emotions everywhere, I know he cares but stop fucking around lmao

45. On the way here, Aegon stopped at an In-N-Out Burger. You said you didn’t want anything when he asked—you have no appetite whatsoever—but at the drive-thru window he ordered two cheeseburger combos: Cherry Cokes, grilled onions on the burgers, Animal-Style fries. He paid in cash, because he is full of deceit, or at least that is what you told yourself.

A) Idk what to think Of him ordering her food when she didn't want anything?

B) Was he doing it cuz he worries she might not be able to afford a lot of food? Or to remind her not to fall for the fame fad diets?

C) Like someone else said, does he pay in cash so he knows how much he Spent that day due to forgetting?

D) Or is he given an allowance by family or Becca?

E) He loves his Cherry cokes in your fanfic… Do you like cherry Coke by any chance maggie? 😂

46. “Do you want to get skin cancer? Are you trying to look like Clint Eastwood when you’re forty?”

A) Wear that sunscreen bitch

B) Does he think it's useless as he's dying anyway?

47. He gives you an irritated smirk but takes the sunscreen and halfheartedly mists himself with it… Aegon takes large, sloppy bites of his burger, grease dribbling down his fingers; you can only manage queasy nibbles at your own. In the waves, surfers are paddling far out and then riding swells back in, skittering to a stop in shallow water or being dragged under by the gleaming sapphire currents. California gulls squawk overhead and dive greedily when Aegon throws them some of his fries. To the north is a jetty of stones to mark the territorial boundary between the surfers and the swimmers; to the south is a long wooden pier for fishing.

C) He might not make it to 40 😫😭

D) just googled CE, he's 94 damn. Also he did have skin cancer, bless him

A) He does anything for SS 🥹

B) Hes so messy, i find it hot- imagine him eating you out like that 🥵

C) Also how he eats without a care in the world, whereas she nibbles, cuz she has to be cautious? But he's already made his money

D) The surfers are riding high on waves just to be brought down by the same thing?- Fame

E) Gulls are the paparazzi and not leaving u alone and eating the scraps they can get

F) There's a clear divide between the surfers and the swimmers (hmmm)

A) zodiac Calendar, fate. Is fate gonna intervene between them soon?

48. Aegon sighs and slurps his Cherry Coke, ice clinking around in the cardboard cup, red and white and reminding you of those zodiac calendars at Chinese restaurants. “I guess. I don’t know.”

B) He's confused. She's different to the other girls

C) But they shouldn't have done it cuz they're just gonna get hurt

A) Ooh slay? 😔

49. “It wasn’t the first time. I’m sure it’ll happen again at some point. It doesn’t change what I have with Becca.”

B) He truly isn't in love with Becca if he's doing this

50. “Never long-term,” Aegon amends.

C) Can I be the next time? 👀

51. “Marry me, girl, be my fairy to the world, be my very own constellation,

A) Cuz he can't do long-term, he won't be around for long enough so he just takes what care he can get from Becca- an easy marriage

A teenage bride with a baby inside getting high on information”

B) Teenager with a baby… like Becca who wanted more (a life with him)

A) Will he finally propose to SS later? just before it's too late? She's a Salve for him as much as he is For her

C) is Becca sneaky? Like is she gonna do something with all this information she has on him and his family as Revenge for being taken a mug of? - it's a Hollywood story, someone has to go to the tabloids lmao

A) Uh yes- this is how fanfics work

52. “You honestly believe I’d rip up the life I’ve have planned out for years for someone I met a month ago?”

B) Only one month??

A) Don't patronise her Aegon

53. “That’s adorable,” Aegon says, like you’re an idiot. After a moment he adds, rather combatively: “And if you’re such a one-dude kind of girl, who was that guy in your Instagram story?”

B) Oh and don't be jealous, you have no right lmao

54. “That’s his name? Jace? That’s not even a real name. That’s like James or Jason, but make it the trailer park remix.”

A) Sorry babe, forgot Aegon was in the the modern baby book of names 🙄

B) If you look in the Targaryen name book, Aegon means "a little bitch"

C) If you don't change your attitude, you'll be A(e)Gon(er) soon

55. Aegon rolls his eyes and shoves a handful of Animal-Style fries into his mouth, sopping with melted yellow cheese and grilled onions and secret-recipe spread that tastes suspiciously like Thousand Island salad dressing. “Right.”

A) That boy needs manners lmao

B) that's like another portion of food with more cheese 🧀- baby doesn't care about his health at all

C) He's distracting himself with food? Emotional eating?

A) Someone he trusts enough, he won't ever trust anyone with her

56. “Sure,” Aegon says, like he is being deliberately stoic. “But I need more time to find someone I trust enough.”

B) Hes putting on an act of nonchalance to not show the hurt he's feeling with her just asking for someone else

C) He will probably try and delay it as much as he can

A) He's calling her bluff

57. Aegon looks at you, a challenge, a dare. “Do you really want to never see me again?”

58. Aegon scoffs. “Oh, come on.”

B) And she doesn't babe

A) Don't be a baby- answer the question

59. “Are you twelve years old?” Aegon says, then slurps forcefully on his Cherry Coke. “Life is more complicated than that.”

B) he doesnt want to say cuz he doesn't love Becca

A) Says the baby

B) it is true. Life is complicated

C) He's the grumpy realist and she's the optiminist. They balance each other- life isn't hard when they're together (ish)

D) Back to consuming to delay his answers

A) He' sparkles ✨️

60. Aegon gazes blankly out over the Pacific Ocean for a while, the breeze in his hair and the Coppertone Sport shimmering on his face, and then at last he turns to you. “Okay, listen,” Aegon begins. “About a year ago, Becca got pregnant.”

61. “Right. And I didn’t then either. So I told her I’d have absolutely nothing to do with it if she kept the baby, and that my preference was for her to terminate. And that’s what she did.”

B) And I oop-

C) I wonder if his final resting place will be the beach, he seems at peace here

B) He's a Bit rough

A) it must be something hereditary to not want to pass it on to his Kids cuz hes know how bad it is to deal with. He doesn't care about legacy whereas his dad did- but at what cost

C) I wonder if he would want the baby if it was Sunshine’s? - que baby? As a last piece of aegon?

62. “I’m not convinced it was unintentional,” Aegon is saying; you are only half-hearing him… “Becca told me that she moved out here to be an actress and a model, but I never saw her really pursuing that. Once we met, she jumped right into being the perfect caretaker, and some people are like that. They need someone to need them. She was great at it, it was all she wanted to do, looking after me and the house and the Targaryen family Hollywood bullshit that I can’t stand. And eventually Becca started dropping hints about getting married, and I ignored them. I think…maybe she thought having a baby would speed up the timeline. But now she knows how serious I am about not having children. And I’m a lot more careful.”

A) What girls have to do to feel secure in a relationship

B) but it also shows that's she manipulative? So what else can she do?

E) So Becca knows stuff about the family? Interesting..

C) Becca started out like SS? Does he help SS more because she actually has passion for it whereas Becca didn't?

D) I want to know about the Targs, they defo had an effect on him and why he hates HW

F) A lot more careful- as in he's stay away from Becca lmao

A) But you need To have to want her too, thats marriage aegon

63. “No,” Aegon says, exasperated that you don’t understand. “I’m marrying her because I’m who she wants, and she would do anything for me. And being with me is a sacrifice, right? So the least I can do is give her the official title. It works for both of us. It’s good for both of us.”

B) Both of you and ss want each other?

C) and he's sacrificing his own happiness by not being with SS

D) He's a curse to be with? Cuz he knows he's gonna go down a slippery slope later with his deteriorating health and he thinks ss wont stay/ doesn't need to see it in her happy world

A) She wants you to be the perfect guy she thought you were but everyone has their flaws

64. “I know,” Aegon snaps. “What do you want me to say? That I’m a fucking terrible person, that I’m a curse to everyone who cares about me? Sure, fine, okay, you got it. But to my knowledge I’m the only person in your corner, so let me help you for as long as I can.”

B) He's gonna be a curse to Sunshine? When he dies, she'll always remember him, like a lost love like Jack & Rose from Titantic (that you like to reference in this & aegon survived the last series of his)

C) He still wants to help and be close to her

A) See- whereas becca didn't Want to do it for the right reasons?

65. “Because you’re kind, and you’re gentle, and you’re real, and you want this for the right reasons, and I’m not going to let anybody beat that out of you.”

B) He's sick of fake people and she's real omg

C) Has she reopened his passion for being an agent?

A) He wants to be there

66. Aegon sighs, defeated. “Do you want to ride with me to the Marvel audition or do you want to drive yourself? It’s on Friday.”

B) But he also respects her choice

A) He's still upset over the Maroon 5 script

67. “In case something happens, obviously,” Aegon flares. “In case a director or an actor is a creep, in case they want you to do a dangerous stunt, it case they try to tell you to get surgery, in case they lie to you about the terms, in case a million other things go wrong. No one is going to listen to you, but because I’m a Targaryen they’ll listen to me.”

B) I love his protective energy.. cuz its “his job”... 😏

C) Whos gonna look after after he's gone 😭

D) How big are the Targs In this industry?

E) also it's v likely someone is a creep in any HW studio

68. “I’m the best you’ve got,” Aegon pitches back, and you sit with him in heavy silence under the sizzling afternoon sun for a long time, neither of you speaking, neither of you moving to leave.

A) Not just the heat being brutal, the angry tension too

B) They don't want to talk but they don't want to leave each other either

A) Not how they ended things last time..

69. An hour later, back in Elysian Park, Aegon parks his Sebring curbside and says Brandon will text you the address for the Marvel audition. You thank him briskly and impersonally. Aegon jogs up the concrete steps and into his half-duplex; you begin walking down the sidewalk towards where you parked your 2003 Honda Accord this morning. You are most of the way there when you see her approaching: long dark hair, wide-leg jeans, bridal white crop top, carrying a massive bakery box. Becca is beaming and humming to herself, but when she spots you she jolts to a halt.

B) bride white top- she wants you to know shes getting married lmao

C) Aw she was in a good mood 😂

70. “Always trying to break us up,” she seethes hatefully, defiantly. “Always trying to tear us apart. You think you matter enough to jeopardize what Aegon and I have? He comes home to me, always, and no one can change that. You think I don’t know loving a man like that means having to share him with the world? I know it. But you should know you’ll never get to keep him.”

D) SS is ruining Beccas dream of domesticity so will Becca ruin hers?

E) Does becca have access to Aegon's files and with him mixing things up, he might forget to lock the computer. Plus plus- he's using folders ( is that another sign of his decorating state cuz he can't remember his computer password)?

B) Does he not sleep with her? Does he not trust her after the baby thing?

A) She says that like just to Ss but she probably means all the girls Aegon has slept with

C) I wonder if Becca Will snap and tell Sunshine why she couldnt handle Aegon (his disease). I bet she knows what his dad dies of.

D) Imagine Becca killed Vis and is slowly killing Aegon for the money lmao idk I'm tired

A) Baela cussing her out, Aegon not being lovey, Becca tripping her over- I get you babe. You deserve a treat

71. “This day fucking sucks,” you mutter to nobody. Then you turn on your laptop and open Spotify in one tab. You recall seeing a lot of Alanis Morissette in Aegon’s playlist, and you find one of the few songs of hers you already know because it’s your mom’s favorite: You Learn.

B) I had to Google the song!

C) The song is about how the lows of life Still add to it, you learn and grow from the lessons

D) Like after this fic is done, she wouldn't change a thing cuz it's toughened her up but also allowed to love more openly (like maybe she stands up for herself and tells aegon to learn to let himself be happy and be with her before he goes)

E) It might help put more substance into her acting?

72. Wikipedia once told you that Viserys Targaryen passed away at his Malibu home after a long illness. Was it bad? It had to be, right? A disease that was torturously slow and horrific for the whole family. An experience that wounded Aegon somewhere deep and immutable.

A) Hmm was it an illness or did the family say that just to cover something up? And did aegon get caught in the crossfire?

73. Viserys Targaryen Alzheimer’s

74. You roll over and stare up at your bedroom ceiling, listening to Alanis Morissette’s serrated mezzo-soprano twang, and whatever is required to be taken seriously as an artist—to make people see you, to make people listen, to earn the privilege of not spending forty years impersonating someone who never feels the siren call of other lives—she has it.

A) Not alzheimers but maybe another thing related to it… like Dementia

B) Does something need to break in her to finally be sharp enough to cut and catch someone's attention?

A) SS isn't taken seriously cuz she's naive? Like she's a pushover in a way?

75. Maybe there’s no profound explanation for why Aegon is marrying Becca. Maybe he really is a fuckboy like Baela said.

C) And will it be cuz of aegon or something else?

B) But we all know that's not it

A) Yeah possibly

76. Maybe he just doesn’t like you enough.

C) He might not want anyone else to see him go like his dad? And he doesn't mind Becca cuz he doesn't care about her enough?

B) youre his favourite.

A) Lies. He does.

C) His precious sunshine.

A Curse [Chapter 5: Venice]

Series summary: You are an aspiring actress. Aegon is a washed-up and disenchanted agent…at least until he sees something special in you. But within paradisical seaside Los Angeles you find terrible dangers and temptations, secrets and lies. Maybe Aegon’s right; maybe the City of Angels really is a curse.

Chapter warnings: Language, mentions of sexual content (18+ readers only), age-gap situationship, In-N-Out Burger, accidental fake dating, discussions of pregnancy and abortion (not who you think), a wild Becca appears!

Word count: 6k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Tagging: @lauraneedstochill @mrs-starkgaryen @chattylurker @neithriddle @ecstaticactus, more in comments! 🥰

🏝️ Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🏝️

You sleep deep but wake up early. When Baela wanders out of the bathroom in a fuzzy purple robe and a gale of steam, she finds you dressed in your grey work uniform and sprinkling a packet of flower food you got from the Rite Aid down the street into the vase of sunflowers. You are smiling to yourself; you can’t seem to stop.

“Heyyyyy!” Baela says, slow and salacious, hoping for interesting stories. You very rarely have any to share. “How’d the Maroon 5 shoot go? Not so bad, right?”

“It was good.” You rearrange the sunflowers, pruning any leaves that have begun to wilt. Daylight streams in through the windows; outside you can see power lines, palm trees, a shopping center featuring—among other things—a Starbucks, World Star Vape, and Carl’s Jr.

“Did you meet Adam Levine?”

“Briefly and uneventfully. But he seemed nice!”

“And you survived the bathtub thing, I see.” Her tone implies that you were ridiculous to ever fear you wouldn’t, childish, ignorant, histrionic.

“Well…I actually didn’t have to do it.”

“What?” She reaches into the refrigerator and removes a plastic bowl full of raspberries, sets it down on the kitchen counter, eats absentmindedly as she stares at you. “Really? Why not?”

You shrug, a little shy but desperately wanting to tell somebody, because that will make it real. Blood burns in your face. “Aegon saved me.”

Baela’s eyes narrow and her brow crinkles. You find yourself—as you often do—casually in awe of the smoothness of her skin, the perfect arches of her eyebrows, her expressiveness that is never inelegant. She chews her raspberries very slowly. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, so…I didn’t have to film that scene. But I did the rest of them and it went fine.”

Baela’s gaze drops to your shoes and travels northbound, examining you with skepticism and dread, as if she is afraid to ask. “Did something else happen?”

You can feel yourself glowing, flushing, beaming helplessly. “Kind of.”

Her jaw drops open; there’s berry juice on her teeth like blood. “How? Where?!”

“We went back to his office after the shoot. I mean, he drove us back to his office. But I wanted to go too.”

“And you did…what, exactly? How many bases?”

“Um…all of them?”

“All of them?!”

“Twice.”

Baela looks horrified. “Oh my God, you really fucked a married guy.”

“No, remember, he’s not married. He’s just engaged.”

“It’s the same thing!” Baela exclaims, and she has completely forgotten about her raspberries. “You’re a cheater, how does that make you feel?”

You shake your head; she doesn’t understand. “I know it sounds bad, but when I’m with Aegon…he’s just so…he’s so protective and he’s smart and he’s brave and he actually believes in me, he’s the only person who doesn’t think I’m hopeless and delusional, and he’s always trying to help me, and there’s something about when we’re together that just feels…magical!”

“Of course it’s magical!” Baela bursts out, and now Jace is peeking blearily out of her bedroom, his dark curls in disarray. “He’s a fuckboy, that’s what they do! He gives you some otherworldly encapsulated experience that leaves you dickmatized but it’s not real, because then he goes home and he does the same thing with his soon-to-be-wife, and then the next day he’s probably hooking up with some other impressionable starstruck client, and you’re standing here thinking you have something special with him when he’s already onto the next girl!”

You can’t imagine that being true, and yet you wonder without wanting to: why did he have condoms in his desk drawer? “I don’t think he’s happy with Becca.”

Baela groans as if she’s in physical pain. “I knew this would happen! I knew somebody was going to take advantage of you. You’re too idealistic, you’re too naïve.”

“I started it,” you object feebly.

“You think you seduced him? You think you were calling the shots with a middle-aged man whose family is Hollywood royalty?”

You look down at your shoes, uninspired white Skechers for work, ashamed. “I guess not.”

Baela huffs a sardonic sigh and scarfs down the last of the raspberries, chewing them aggressively. “You know, people talk shit about Jace—”

“Who talks shit about Jace?” Jace asks from the doorway of her bedroom.

“—They say he’s a hobosexual and lazy and jobless and whatever, but that man is loyal, he doesn’t even look at other women, and I wouldn’t trade him for anybody. Because apparently it’s extremely fucking rare to find someone who won’t get naked for the first stranger who promises to make all their wildest dreams come true.”

You are collapsing in on yourself, a wilting flower, a crushed spider, and you remember years ago finding the emails between your father and that hospital intern, and you marvel at how easy it is to fixate on one star and lose sight of the constellation. Jace slinks back into Baela’s bedroom and closes the door. “Yeah, you’re right, Baela,” you say softly. “I was wrong. I don’t know why I did that.”

Now Baela frowns at you with a nauseating combination of judgment and pity. “Look, are you sure you wouldn’t be happier back home on the horse farm? This place…you’re too nice for it, you know? You’re too trusting. You’re going to keep getting hurt.” You don’t have what it takes.

You steel yourself. “I’m staying here.”

“Okay, and are you going to find a new agent? Maybe somebody who isn’t trying to sleep with you, or at the very least isn’t in a committed relationship while doing it?”

You are thunderstruck by the question; you haven’t even considered this. “No one else wants me.”

Baela tosses the empty plastic bowl into the kitchen sink—it rattles harshly there—and casts you a hard glare as she stalks towards her bedroom in her purple bathrobe. “I am so disappointed in you.”

You turn to watch her leave, crestfallen and deserted. “Are we still going to see the fireworks later when I get done at Cold Stone?”

Baela stops and turns around, and now her face is all pity, like you’re too pathetic to stay mad at, like you aren’t cognizant enough to be held responsible. “Yeah. We’re still going to see the fireworks.”

“Yay!” you reply, a strained little squeak.

“Jace can stay here when I’m in Paris, right?” Baela asks. “He swears he’ll vacuum and take the garbage out and stuff. And you know he won’t fill up the sink with dirty dishes, he basically only eats takeout.”

“Yeah, of course, no problem! He can stay.”

“Thanks.” Baela gives you a small smile—a charitable you’re a dumbass but we’re still friends sort of gesture—and disappears into her bedroom. Then you go find your phone and purse so you won’t be late for work.

All afternoon as you are bent low scraping scoops of ice cream out of the freezer and mashing in mix-ins on the chilled countertop, each time the glass door opens and the string of bells jangle you look up to see if it’s Aegon, because maybe he’s found you another job or maybe he just misses you, and he’s daydreaming of you now in the sweltering sunshine that rains down golden and cloudless. But your only customers are strangers: flocks of influencers in yoga pants who pick at Like It-sized sorbets, flustered mothers trying to relay their lisping children’s orders, giggling couples on dates who you love watching, the way their eyes are alight and their fingers forever ache to intertwine.

At dusk, you and Baela and Jace are lounging on a blanket at the Baldwin Hills Scenic Overlook, your breathing still labored from the hike and guzzling cans of La Croix that Baela packed, awful as always but not so bad when you feel like you’re dying of thirst. As you wait for the fireworks to start, you take a few selfies with the distant incandescent mirage of Downtown to the northeast, towards Chinatown and Elysian Park, towards Apple Valley, Minnesota if you drove far enough.

You post the most flattering selfie to your Instagram story with a caption of patriotic emojis: an American flag, the Statue of Liberty, a bald eagle, an exploding pink firework. In the row of circles at the top of your screen, you observe that Aegon—a.k.a. superstargaryen—has also posted a story today. In the two minutes you spend debating whether to watch it, he has seen yours, liked it, and replied: Miss America 2025.

“What are you grinning about?” Baela asks from where she is sitting in Jace’s lap, his arms around her waist, and you can’t tell her because you don’t want to make her mad again.

“Just something my sister sent me.” You click on Aegon’s story; he is standing beside a massive grill covered with hotdogs and hamburger patties, wielding a pair of tongs, and wearing his aviator sunglasses and a green apron with seemingly nothing underneath. You like it and reply: I have literally never wanted a hotdog so bad in my life.

Aegon reacts with a laughing emoji and types: Come and get it. But of course you can’t, because Becca is probably there too.

“You better post the picture we took together,” Baela tells you. “We looked cute as fuck!”

“What about me?” Jace asks playfully, nuzzling the side of her face. “Was I cute as fuck too?”

“You were okay,” Baela says, and they both laugh.

“It’s a really good photo,” you agree. And it proves that you have friends to do activities with, that you aren’t quite as pathetic and alone in Los Angeles as your parents and Clara and Tripp and Mason might think. You post it as a story: you and Baela smiling together, Jace in the background brandishing a peace sign. You add a bunch of red, white, and blue hearts for decoration. Aegon watches your new story within a few minutes, but he doesn’t reply. He doesn’t even like it. You frown down at your screen, confused.

“Oh look, it’s starting, it’s starting!” Baela says excitedly, and now there are booming explosions in the darkening sky and threads of shimmering remnants descending like falling stars.

~~~~~~~~~~

You are early for your appointment because you want to see Aegon again, and you don’t even try to tell yourself it’s for any other reason. It’s Tuesday, July 8th, and there are still charred firework wrappers and singed sparklers strewn on the sidewalk. You find a parking spot a ways down the street from Aegon’s half-duplex and trot to the front door. You are wearing your tan TOMS wedges, a top the color of dark fertile earth, a green maxi skirt, and swampy verdant eyeshadow to match: matte brown Rewind and sparkly emerald Damaged, both by Urban Decay.

Behind the reception desk, Brandon is squinting at the computer screen and scrawling notes in his planner with his flower pen. “Hey girl!” he greets you, and although he is preoccupied he still gets a bottle of Perrier out of the minifridge and sets it on the edge of the desk.

“Thanks!” you say as you take it. “I’m really sorry about what happened last week with the address thing. I hope you weren’t too freaked out. I didn’t want to ruin your holiday.”

Brandon laughs and waves a hand dismissively. “It’s totally cool, I wasn’t worried at all. Aegon must be hella stressed lately because he’s always mixing things up and forgetting appointments, then he yells at me but feels bad about it afterwards and pays me overtime. Well worth it! I think it’s the wedding. Becca’s constantly showing up asking for his opinion about cakes and decorations and whatever and it’s just a lot.”

You smile politely; it takes some effort. “Yeah, weddings are nerve-racking. My sister Clara is planning hers right now.”

“Oh for cute! Are you going to be her maid of honor?”

“Actually, I don’t know. I hope not. Sounds like a ton of work.”

“You’d be marvelous at it,” Brandon assures you, then snatches up the phone when it rings. “Targaryen Talent Agency, this is Brandon, how can I help you?” You say goodbye and continue to Aegon’s office.

Inside, he is wearing the same green Nike Killshots he had on the day you first met and has them propped up on his desk as he plays his Nintendo 64. Mario is traversing a narrow stone pathway surrounded by a sea of blood-red lava. Aegon’s tank top is the color of the pine trees back in Minnesota; the unbuttoned short-sleeve Oxford shirt he’s thrown overtop is white and wrinkled. The room has been tidied up, all signs of your transgression erased: debris swept off the scratched wood floor, his desk once again littered with folders and papers and Juicy Fruit gum wrappers, new frames for the photographs, Honeycrisp apples filling up a bowl that is blue china instead of plain bone-colored ceramic.

“Hey,” Aegon says, glancing at you but still clicking buttons and swiveling the joystick on his transluscent orange controller.

“Hi!” You are grinning as you sit down in the chair in front of his desk. “Your office is back to normal.”

“Yeah, I have cleaning people that come in a few days a week.”

“Are you winning?” you ask, meaning the game. Mario veers off the precarious walkway and into the lava, screams and tries to leap to safety, sails over a stone island, hits the lava again and dies.

Aegon chuckles; he sounds tired. His bruised knuckles, five days gone, have sickened to a ghastly green and plumes of opaque violet. “I guess not.” He turns off the Nintendo 64. “How was your 4th of July?”

“It was awesome! I hung out with my roommate.”

Aegon gives you a disapproving look like he doesn’t quite believe you. You can’t fathom why. “I might have another job for you.”

“Really? Great!” But despite the good news, you’re beginning to feel like you’re sinking. You keep waiting for Aegon to acknowledge what happened here, what you both did, what you were to each other even if only for a few hours under the cover of darkness.

“There’s a casting call for a very minor part in a new Mavel movie. I’m sure that’s not exactly your dream role, and it’s not really what I see you doing either, but you said you’d take anything and it’s an opportunity to get you in front of some big-name people. So I booked you a spot.”

“I accept.” Is he going to pretend it never happened?

“I’m keeping an eye on the indie projects that make it to pre-production. I can imagine you shining in a niche little thriller, maybe a romantic drama…you do angry really well, you know. Which is strange, because you’re never angry in real life. But that’s what makes you an actress. You become other kinds of people.”

Does he think it was a mistake? Does he think it didn’t matter? “Okay,” you hear yourself say uncertainly.

Aegon studies you, his Nike Killshots still resting lazily on his desk. His blonde hair is slicked back from his face; his eyes are a remote somber blue like the ocean through an airplane window. “You alright, sunshine?”

“Yeah, I just…um…I mean…” You glance uneasily around the small plain office, scuffed wooden floorboards and cracked paint on mint green walls and glaring daylight that pours in through the windows that face the east. “What happened Thursday night…was that a one-time thing, or…?”

Slowly, Aegon smiles, and there’s something about his voice that strikes you as smug, maybe taunting, maybe even cruel. “It was that good for you, huh?”

You are suddenly reminded of every doubt, every warning, every belittling comment you thought you had convinced yourself not to absorb: from Mom, Dad, Clara, Tripp, Mason, Baela, Jace, agents and directors and surgeons. You thump your cold glass bottle of Perrier onto Aegon’s desk, clutch your purse, and bolt for the door. “Sorry, I have to go.”

Aegon is stunned. He scrambles to his feet. “What—?”

“Sorry, bye. Please don’t follow me.” You don’t want him to see you crying. You’re already humiliated enough.

You run awkwardly in your wedges through the lobby—Brandon watches you from behind his desk, baffled—and burst out into the hot late-morning sunlight. You almost tumble down the concrete steps but regain your balance, then flee towards your Honda. Window air conditioning units whir, dogs bark, car engines rev, a radio in an open garage is blaring Domino by Jessie J. Now your phone is ringing.

You yank it out of your purse and, through the tears that blur your vision, see that the name on the screen is Aegon’s. “Hello?” you answer stupidly, as if you don’t know who it is.

Aegon’s voice is equal parts defensive and resigned. “Do you want a new agent?”

“No,” you sob.

“Then come back here.”

“I just…I just feel like I really messed up, I mean I’ve never cheated on or with anybody and I can’t believe I did that, and now you’re pretending it never even happened, and it feels weird, it feels wrong, and I ruined everything, and maybe people were right when they said I couldn’t handle being out here—”

“Come back to my office,” Aegon says calmly. “And we will talk about it. Okay?”

“Okay,” you whimper, and turn around.

You clop into the lobby and give Brandon an embarrassed wave. He nods, puzzled. Then you return to Aegon’s office and take your place in your chair, slumped, red-eyed, ashamed.

Aegon sits down too, places his elbows on his desk, laces his fingers together and presses them against his lips as he gazes at you, his large blue eyes glossy and pained. After a while, he says quietly: “This is exactly what I didn’t want. For you to be hurt, for you to be sad.”

So you won’t start crying again, you distract yourself by rotating the green glass bottle you left on Aegon’s desk, slippery with condensation. “I don’t even like Perrier.”

“Then why do you drink one every time you’re here?”

“I thought it would be the easiest thing for Brandon to get me.”

Aegon shakes his head; and for a long time he just watches you. Then an idea strikes him. “Do you want to go to the beach?”

~~~~~~~~~~

He takes the 110 south to the 10, then the 10 west towards the coast, then Venice Boulevard until you hit the canals. Aegon parks his Sebring in a tight spot on the street; he has to cut it half a dozen times to squeeze between a BMW X5 and a Volkswagen Tiguan. When he rests his bruised hand on the back of your seat so he can twist around and look behind him, you feel a disorienting sort of loss. Is he never going to touch me again? Then you both get out and walk towards the towering palm trees and beckoning open blue that peeks out from between hotels and surf shops, the genesis of the Pacific Ocean that continues uninterrupted for over five thousand miles to the shores of Japan.

On the way here, Aegon stopped at an In-N-Out Burger. You said you didn’t want anything when he asked—you have no appetite whatsoever—but at the drive-thru window he ordered two cheeseburger combos: Cherry Cokes, grilled onions on the burgers, Animal-Style fries. He paid in cash, because he is full of deceit, or at least that is what you told yourself. And so now you are carrying the Cherry Cokes, condensation sweating out of the cardboard cups as midday heat radiates up from the sidewalk and teenagers on bicycles and skateboards weave around you. You pop into one of the surf shops and Aegon waits outside, bemused, until you emerge with a blue can of Coppertone Sport tucked under your arm.

When Aegon finds a spot he likes on the beach and sits cross-legged in loose warm sand, you set down the Cherry Cokes—ice jingling in the dripping cups—and spray yourself with the Coppertone Sport until all of your exposed skin is glistening with SPF 50. Then you try to pass the can to Aegon.

“I’m good,” he says, opening the paper In-N-Out Burger bag to distribute the contents.

“Do you want to get skin cancer? Are you trying to look like Clint Eastwood when you’re forty?”

He gives you an irritated smirk but takes the sunscreen and halfheartedly mists himself with it. Then he flings the can aside and passes you your burger and fries when you sit down beside him. Aegon takes large, sloppy bites of his burger, grease dribbling down his fingers; you can only manage queasy nibbles at your own. In the waves, surfers are paddling far out and then riding swells back in, skittering to a stop in shallow water or being dragged under by the gleaming sapphire currents. California gulls squawk overhead and dive greedily when Aegon throws them some of his fries. To the north is a jetty of stones to mark the territorial boundary between the surfers and the swimmers; to the south is a long wooden pier for fishing. A group of people are playing volleyball nearby. From their boombox drifts a Red Hot Chili Peppers song; you feel like you’re being haunted by them.

“It’s the edge of the world and all of Western civilization,

The sun may rise in the East, at least it settled in a final location

It’s understood that Hollywood sells Californication…”

“It’s not your fault,” Aegon says. “I’m the one who’s engaged, I’m a decade older than you, I’m sort of your boss. It was my responsibility to put the brakes on, and I didn’t because…” He gestures helplessly. “Because I really like you. And I didn’t want to stop. But you’re not to blame for it and you shouldn’t feel guilty and you didn’t do anything wrong. I did.”

You stare out into the waves, glittering with sharp lacerations of sunlight. “So you wish you’d stopped it.”

Aegon sighs and slurps his Cherry Coke, ice clinking around in the cardboard cup, red and white and reminding you of those zodiac calendars at Chinese restaurants. “I guess. I don’t know.”

“You don’t feel guilty?”

“It wasn’t the first time. I’m sure it’ll happen again at some point. It doesn’t change what I have with Becca.”

You turn to him, revolted. “You just cheat constantly? That’s how you live?”

“Not constantly,” Aegon says, annoyed. “Not even that often. Maybe once or twice a year. I bump into someone at a party or a club, or on a film set, or on a plane…you know. Things happen. But it doesn’t go any further than that and it’s never serious.”

“Never serious,” you echo morosely.

“Never long-term,” Aegon amends.

“Marry me, girl, be my fairy to the world, be my very own constellation,

A teenage bride with a baby inside getting high on information,

And buy me a star on the boulevard, it’s Californication…”

Aegon taps the mostly-untouched burger in your hand. “Eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You said you’d listen to me. I’m telling you to eat.”

His logic is sound. You make more of an effort, washing each bite down with Cherry Coke that you usually never drink, empty calories, fleeting forbidden sweetness.

Aegon is watching you closely, the creases around his eyes deep and thoughtful. “Could you tell me…like, specifically…what exactly you’re upset about?”

“I guess I thought it meant something.”

“I’m not pretending it didn’t. I just said I really like you.”

“But you’re still getting married in September.”

“You honestly believe I’d rip up the life I’ve have planned out for years for someone I met a month ago?”

“I don’t understand how you can have feelings for me and be marrying somebody else. That doesn’t make any sense. When I’m really into someone, I don’t want other people.”

“That’s adorable,” Aegon says, like you’re an idiot. After a moment he adds, rather combatively: “And if you’re such a one-dude kind of girl, who was that guy in your Instagram story?”

You have no idea what he’s talking about. “What guy?”

“The guy on the 4th of July. Young gym bro curly hair guy.”

It takes you a few seconds to realize who he means. “Jace?”

“That’s his name? Jace? That’s not even a real name. That’s like James or Jason, but make it the trailer park remix.”

“I think his parents have money,” you say absently, fascinated by Aegon’s reaction, trying to decide if you want to divulge that Jace is in no way available or romantically interested in you.

“That’s not the point.”

“He’s a friend.”

Aegon rolls his eyes and shoves a handful of Animal-Style fries into his mouth, sopping with melted yellow cheese and grilled onions and secret-recipe spread that tastes suspiciously like Thousand Island salad dressing. “Right.”

“Where are you going after you get married?”

“Becca’s family is in Houston.”

“What’s there for you?”

He laughs, a curt little cackle. “Segway tours, rodeos. The Space Center.”

“What about your family? What about Aemond and the others?”

“If they want to see me, they can catch a flight.”

“If you’re so hellbent on leaving Los Angeles, then what’s the point of this? Just ditch me now. Just give me to some other agent and we can both move on.”

“Sure,” Aegon says, like he is being deliberately stoic. “But I need more time to find someone I trust enough.”

“You can’t think of a single person who isn’t going to try to make me get naked or leap off a building?”

“No, I can, but I need someone who actually believes in you too. And you haven’t done much work out here yet. So it would be better if I had more to show them.”

“Can’t you just forge me another resume?”

Aegon looks at you, a challenge, a dare. “Do you really want to never see me again?”

The truth is humiliatingly simple. “No.”

“Then why are you arguing?”

You toss a few fries to the seagulls; they wrestle over them when they fall to the ground, kicking up golden sand and pecking murderously at each other. “Do you love Becca?”

Aegon scoffs. “Oh, come on.”

“What?”

“It’s a stupid question.”

“It’s an extremely relevant question.”

“Are you twelve years old?” Aegon says, then slurps forcefully on his Cherry Coke. “Life is more complicated than that.”

“More complicated than marrying people you’re actually in love with…?”

Aegon gazes blankly out over the Pacific Ocean for a while, the breeze in his hair and the Coppertone Sport shimmering on his face, and then at last he turns to you. “Okay, listen,” Aegon begins. “About a year ago, Becca got pregnant.”

You’re so startled you accidentally knock over your Cherry Coke, scrabbling for the cup as dark reddish liquid spills into the sand. “You have a baby?!”

He watches you, severe, grim, maybe a little afraid of what you’ll think. “No.”

Then you remember. “You don’t want kids,” you say softly.

“Right. And I didn’t then either. So I told her I’d have absolutely nothing to do with it if she kept the baby, and that my preference was for her to terminate. And that’s what she did.”

You are speechless, you are horrified, you are staring at him and struggling to imagine it.

“I’m not convinced it was unintentional,” Aegon is saying; you are only half-hearing him. Your skull is full of rumbling waves and the shrieks of seagulls. “Becca told me that she moved out here to be an actress and a model, but I never saw her really pursuing that. Once we met, she jumped right into being the perfect caretaker, and some people are like that. They need someone to need them. She was great at it, it was all she wanted to do, looking after me and the house and the Targaryen family Hollywood bullshit that I can’t stand. And eventually Becca started dropping hints about getting married, and I ignored them. I think…maybe she thought having a baby would speed up the timeline. But now she knows how serious I am about not having children. And I’m a lot more careful.”

“So…you’re marrying Becca…out of guilt?”

“No,” Aegon says, exasperated that you don’t understand. “I’m marrying her because I’m who she wants, and she would do anything for me. And being with me is a sacrifice, right? So the least I can do is give her the official title. It works for both of us. It’s good for both of us.”

You still can’t comprehend it. It seems so incongruous with who you know him to be: protective, warm, unconventionally noble. “You pressured Becca into getting an abortion?”

“It was her choice,” Aegon says weakly, knowing that he’d put an insurmountable weight on the scale.

“That’s a horrible thing to do.”

“I know,” Aegon snaps. “What do you want me to say? That I’m a fucking terrible person, that I’m a curse to everyone who cares about me? Sure, fine, okay, you got it. But to my knowledge I’m the only person in your corner, so let me help you for as long as I can.”

You shake your head; none of it makes sense. All of it is awful. They were right. I don’t belong here. “Why do you care about what happens to me?”

“Because you’re kind, and you’re gentle, and you’re real, and you want this for the right reasons, and I’m not going to let anybody beat that out of you.”

You swallow noisily. “I feel really guilty.”

“I’m sorry,” Aegon says, and he seems to mean it.

“I don’t think it’s fair to let Becca go through with the wedding without knowing that we just hooked up in your office.”

Aegon raises his eyebrows and shrugs uneasily. “Look, I’m not going to tell you what to do, but Becca wouldn’t want to know.”

“Why? Do you have some kind of arrangement?” Like my parents do. “She doesn’t concern herself with your cheating as long as she doesn’t have to see the evidence?”

“I mean, has she ever used those exact words? No. But I think that’s pretty close to how she feels.”

You nibble on a fry. Your eyes are downcast, your words hushed. With one index finger, you draw stars in the sand. “That’s so sad.”

Aegon sighs, defeated. “Do you want to ride with me to the Marvel audition or do you want to drive yourself? It’s on Friday.”

“I don’t want you there at all.”

“Well, I’m going to be there. But I can try to stay out of your way.”

You’re sulking. “Why do you have to go?”

“In case something happens, obviously,” Aegon flares. “In case a director or an actor is a creep, in case they want you to do a dangerous stunt, it case they try to tell you to get surgery, in case they lie to you about the terms, in case a million other things go wrong. No one is going to listen to you, but because I’m a Targaryen they’ll listen to me.”

“You’re my hero,” you say sarcastically; it comes out more miserable than mean. You’ve never been good at cruelty. It’s not a language you speak.

“I’m the best you’ve got,” Aegon pitches back, and you sit with him in heavy silence under the sizzling afternoon sun for a long time, neither of you speaking, neither of you moving to leave.

An hour later, back in Elysian Park, Aegon parks his Sebring curbside and says Brandon will text you the address for the Marvel audition. You thank him briskly and impersonally. Aegon jogs up the concrete steps and into his half-duplex; you begin walking down the sidewalk towards where you parked your 2003 Honda Accord this morning. You are most of the way there when you see her approaching: long dark hair, wide-leg jeans, bridal white crop top, carrying a massive bakery box. Becca is beaming and humming to herself, but when she spots you she jolts to a halt.

“Hi, Becca!” you say very cheerfully, overcompensating.

“Hey,” she replies flatly, then goes to pass you, heading towards Aegon’s office.

“Wait, sorry, can I talk to you for a minute?”

Reluctantly, Becca stops and peers at you, agitated, guarded, unwelcoming. “What? I’m busy. I have wedding cake samples for Aegon to taste.”

“Oh neat, that’s so fun!”

She glares at you, waiting.

“Okay,” you start. “Um….well…I just wanted to…um…Becca, there’s something I feel like I need to confess to you, and I want to profusely apologize because even though it wasn’t planned, I still knew better and I should never have—”

“You people,” Becca hisses, and you gape at her, bewildered.

“Sorry, what?”

“Always trying to break us up,” she seethes hatefully, defiantly. “Always trying to tear us apart. You think you matter enough to jeopardize what Aegon and I have? He comes home to me, always, and no one can change that. You think I don’t know loving a man like that means having to share him with the world? I know it. But you should know you’ll never get to keep him.”

“No, Becca, that’s not—”

“And if he was going to leave me, he has better options than you.”

Her hands are full, but she lowers a shoulder and shoves you hard with it, and you go stumbling backwards, your feet twisting out of your wedges. Pain bolts up through your left ankle and you yelp as you collapse onto the front lawn of a small yellow house. When you look up at Becca, staggered and appalled, she is sashaying swiftly up the sidewalk and is already halfway to Aegon’s office. You grab your wedges and limp to your Honda on bare feet, the concrete beneath them searing under the arid southwest sun.

The apartment is empty, Baela getting drinks with her L.A. friends before jetting off to Paris next week, Jace at one of his infrequent PhD classes. You grab an ice pack from the freezer and shuffle clumsily to your room, flop down onto your bed, apply the ice pack to your throbbing, swollen ankle.

“This day fucking sucks,” you mutter to nobody. Then you turn on your laptop and open Spotify in one tab. You recall seeing a lot of Alanis Morissette in Aegon’s playlist, and you find one of the few songs of hers you already know because it’s your mom’s favorite: You Learn.

As you listen, mulling over Aegon and his mazelike contradictions, it occurs to you that maybe losing his father at such a young age did something to him, scarred him, traumatized him, made him terrified of letting people get too close. Perhaps that is a baseless assumption. Perhaps you are desperate to make excuses for him, to believe that there’s still hope for the two of you.

How old did Aegon say he was when his dad died? In college? That could mess someone up.

Wikipedia once told you that Viserys Targaryen passed away at his Malibu home after a long illness. Was it bad? It had to be, right? A disease that was torturously slow and horrific for the whole family. An experience that wounded Aegon somewhere deep and immutable.

You Google: Viserys Targaryen cancer. There are no relevant results. You try again.

Viserys Targaryen Alzheimer’s

Viserys Targaryen ALS

Viserys Targaryen multiple sclerosis

Nothing, nothing, nothing.

You roll over and stare up at your bedroom ceiling, listening to Alanis Morissette’s serrated mezzo-soprano twang, and whatever is required to be taken seriously as an artist—to make people see you, to make people listen, to earn the privilege of not spending forty years impersonating someone who never feels the siren call of other lives—she has it.

Maybe there’s no profound explanation for why Aegon is marrying Becca. Maybe he really is a fuckboy like Baela said.

Maybe he just doesn’t like you enough.

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

HAPPY ST DAVIDS DAY <33

I'm Welsh and in England (uni) for St Davids Day for it this year so have some Welsh Remus instead :)

"Hey, Moony?" Remus hears Sirius' voice, gentle and lilting, before he appears beside him. Remus shifts his weight slightly, offering him space on the windowsill. He sits opposite with a smile, and Remus does his best to offer one back. "I got you something." He holds out a box, carefully wrapped in green and white paper, tied with a shiny red ribbon. For a second, Remus just looks at it, confused.

"What...?" His eyes scan over the paper, only confusing him further. "It's March."

"I know."

"And not my birthday," he adds quickly, just in case Sirius has forgotten.

"Merlin, you have so little faith in me," Sirius says dramatically, miming being stabbed in the heart with an amused smile. "This isn't for your birthday. Just open it!" He holds the box a little further out, and Remus just decides to indulge whatever Sirius has done. Maybe he's clocked that Remus is in a foul fucking mood, and he's just stacked the box with chocolate. That would definitely make him feel better.

The moment he gets the box open, his heart stops.

The package is packed high with welsh cakes. Traditional, chocolate chip, even some with peanuts mixed in, from the look of it. They're all wrapped in clear film, tied with a bow that only Hope knows how to do.

Not only that, but there are daffodils stuffed in every space they'd fit into, a tiny Welsh flag, and two little figurines that he would recognise anywhere. One, a Welsh lady that his mum had given him when he was little, faded but still smiling, her checked apron slightly ripped and her bonnet slipping off where the stitches have loosened. The other, a man dressed in a red waistcoat, flat cap and dickie bow. The bow is drooping, and the tiny fake leek practically unrecognisable.

"How-?" Remus looks up at Sirius, stunned. "How did you get these?"

"I... sent your mum a letter." Remus picks up the flag with one hand, brushing his finger across the red dragon on the front. "Why didn't you tell any of us it was a holiday today?"

"I just... it seemed dumb, I don't know," Remus mumbles, trying to blink back tears. He's never been more touched by a gesture in his life. "It's weird to care about St. David's Day this much anyway."

"I think it's nice," Sirius says softly. "Having a holiday you can share with your family like that?"

"Yeah, we... my extended family all do a mini eisteddfod every year," Remus says, unable to help the smile on his face. "I- well, I haven't been in seven years, now."

"Rem..."

"I can't believe you did all of this."

"Yeah, well... I wanted to cheer you up a little." Sirius smiles a little anxiously, as though he's worried that Remus is going to hate it.

Before he can worry any further, Remus leans in and connects their lips. It's only brief, before he pulls away with a smile, lacing his fingers through Sirius'.

"It's amazing. You're amazing. Thank you so much." Sirius blushes, and Remus has never felt luckier in his life, having Sirius by his side. "Right, now you need to try a Welsh cake."

"Oh, it's- I don't really like raisins."

"Neither do I. These don't count, come on."

Maybe St. David's Day can be fun away from Wales.

Maybe anything can be fun when Sirius is involved.

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Serial Killer(s)

Your mother always warned you to never give rides to strangers, but the hitchhiker you run into seems harmless. What's the worst that can happen?

Things originally start well. You and your buddies piled into your roommate's Jeep, roof down, pop music blasting. You're the driver - always the responsible one - hair tied back and sunglasses on the edge of your nose. You're all dressed for summer. Bikini tops and board shorts, smeared with sunscreen - the picture of college fun.

It starts well and keeps going even better. You're all in high spirits. Flushed and happy and young. Picking up the hitchhiker seems like a good idea. You see that he's handsome and around your age, that he's got an easy smile and a guitar on his back. You see that and nothing else. Not the too quick eyes, not the surprisingly light backback. Nothing.

He ends up riding shotgun, talking to you about classes and shitty professors. Smiling just a little every time you shift gears and your hand brushes his thigh.

You like him. You're the only single in the car so it's natural that he spends the most time talking to you. Lord knows it's hard to keep a conversation going with a couple when they look like they'd rather be tonsil deep in each other's throats.

You like him and you get the feeling he likes you too. When you stop at a sleazy motel for the night, he invites you to eat dinner with him outside his room. All your friends are off doing what couples do best - getting cosy in the hot tub, testing the speeds on the vibrating bed, finding new and interesting ways to use the ice machine. So you're glad for the company.

Mostly.

You're almost done eating when he pops the question.

"Why don't you have a boyfriend?"

You look away from him. Take in the greasy boxes of takeout on the concrete, the neon red wash of the vacancy sign spelling across the parking lot. It's not an easy question. It brings up ugly memories.

"I used to have one. Things ended...badly. He's in Cook County Corrections now. Serving fifty to life."

He gives a low whistle.

"That bad huh? You ever go to see him?"

"No. Never."

He stretches out, folds his hands behind his head and looks up at the dull scattering of stars.

"You should. It gets lonely in there. A guy could use the pick me up, especially if the visitor is a pretty thing like you."

You shiver despite the balmy summer air.

"I'd rather not. I'll be happy to never see his face again."

Thankfully, he drops the subject. You go back to talking about awful first dates and the best dishes to order at a Chinese restaurant. He's a complete gentleman but you can't help the slight relief you feel when he stands to leave.

" 'Night gorgeous."

"Good night, stranger."

In the morning you walk out to see him reading the early paper. He crumples and tosses it before you can catch the headline.

" 'Morning. How did you sleep?"

You shrug. "Not the best. I swear these kinds of places all get their beds from the same supplier. Lumpy Mattresses Inc."

He grins. "Don't forget their trusty partner Damp and Musty Carpets LTD."

Your friends are slow to wake up and groggy when they do. Most of them nursing nasty hangovers. You and the hitchhiker have most of the morning to eat breakfast and shoot the breeze together. When it's time to leave, he takes his place in the passenger seat like it's the most natural thing in the world.

"I couldn't find any newspapers," one of your friends complains when you're back on the road.  

"I wanted to see the football results."

"Eagles beats the Rams in the final playoff," the hitchhiker says.

"Aww man. Where'd you get a paper from?"

"I must have gotten lucky. Staff is 'sposed to leave the local paper at reception. Guess they must not have the budget anymore."

You stay quiet but something doesn't feel quite right about that statement.

The day passes fast. Your playlist is a lot more mellow, on account of the many lingering headaches. Still, you think there's nothing quite as fine as the open road. It's only near evening when the trouble starts.

"Shit. I can't find our reservations."

You look at your friends in the rear view mirror. They've already pulled apart two backpacks trying to find the papers. You can't help feeling irritated. The one thing you asked them to take care of...

You pull over and search the Jeep from top to bottom. Unpack almost everything. Check and then recheck your pockets. Nothing.

"I'm really sorry y/n. On the phone they said we needed the copies to check in. Maybe we can still stop by and get it sorted with the front desk but..."

You can here the unspoken thought in their words. You're all thinking the same thing - that hotels can get so uptight when their potential guests are rowdy students with still bloodshot eyes. You worry at your nail, thinking. You paid the fees in advance so maybe if you showed them your credit card...

"My friend has a cabin not far from here," the hitchhiker says. "Pretty big place. He'd be happy to let us crash there for the night."

You bite your lip. It's a two hour drive to the hotel. And if they turn you away you'll be off the beaten path with almost no cash, on a near empty petrol tank.

"You think he'd mind letting us sleep on his couch?" you ask. "We'll be well-behaved and I can pay."

He smiles at you, totally easy going about the whole thing.

"Sure we'll just have to call ahead."

You manage to track down a payphone and you wait with the rest of your crew while he calls. You can't make out what he's saying but every once in a while his eyes drift to you. No one else. Just you.

If you didn't know any better, you'd say he was talking about you.

When he puts the receiver down, he's all smiles.

"Got it all sorted. It's out of the way though, so I reckon we grab some chow first."

Your friends are quick to agree. What self respecting kid on spring break is going to say no to fast food and cold beer? It's only you that lingers, brow furrowed. It all feels too convenient. Your reservations go missing and the stranger you picked up just happens to have a place nearby? No way. The more you think about, it the stranger it seems.

You're still lost in thought when the hitchhiker swings an arm around your shoulders and half drags you along behind your friends.

"What's you got you so worried gorgeous?"

It's hard to be suspicious of him when he smile so easy, his shaggy brown hair dancing across his forehead.

"Nothing. I just hate to intrude on your friend."

He laughs, squeezing your shoulders before letting go.

"Trust me he'll be very glad for the company. He doesn't get out much."

He pulls the diner door open for you. Your friends have already claimed a booth and a single harried waitress is struggling to jot down their long list of requests. The hitchhiker grabs your hand before you can join them.

"My friend is a great guy. I think you'll like him."

He smiles, crooked and amused, like he's laughing at a joke only he understands.

"Hell, I know for a fact that he'll like you. You're just his type."

Your smile is tight. The last guy who said you were just his type... well, you and the district attorney both know how that ended.

You take a seat and smile at the waitress. She looks beyond overwhelmed and you silently promise to tip her as well as your half drained credit card can manage.

"I'll take a steak. Rare. Bloody as you can make it," the hitchhiker says.

You raise your brows. Not exactly the typical order for an out of the way little diner. He sees your look and grins.

"Been a while without good meat. You have no idea the craving I've had this past few days."

The booth is packed tight and his thigh is flush against yours. Warm, even though his jeans.

"We all get cravings now and again. I get it."

He tilts his head at you and it must be a trick of the light, because his pupils are blown out wide. It looks like you're staring into oil. Just... emptier somehow. You wouldn't go so far as to say he feels soulless, but if it's not in the same street it sure as hell is in the same neighbourhood. Like oil, it leaves you feeling dirty in a way that doesn't easily scrub off.

"Do you?" he asks quietly.

You open your mouth to say something along the lines of I'm only human and of course I do but his eyes stop you. He isn't talking about food or meat. No. It feels like he's asking about flesh.

One of your friends cracks a joke and you turn away from him in a hurry, pretending to laugh at something you only half heard. You don't talk to him for the rest of the meal. Try to avoid looking him even. But you can't avoid the feel of his leg against yours. Warm and solid. Can't ignore the way your heart jumps when he reaches for his wallet and his fingers accidentally scrape you inner thigh.

You're the last one out of the diner. You throw away the dirty napkins and, true to your word, tip the waitress as well as you can manage. You're half afraid that he might wait for you, but when the door clicks shut behind you, you see him with the rest of your friends. Joking around with some of the boys.

The second you start towards them, his eyes fix on yours. You aren't sure how he does it - always narrowing in on you like you have your own gravitational pull. Like he's aware of your every move.

"Ready to go?"

Are you? You aren't sure. Some dull instinct is making you want to turn tail and run. You try and talk yourself out of it. What concrete evidence do you have? What has he done wrong, besides be a little intense? Folk do that all the time and it doesn't bother you. And it's not like you'll be alone. Your whole pack of friends will be right next to you.

"Yeah, let's go. Time doesn't wait for anyone."

It's a long drive. The highway splitting off into a main road and then splintering into a half-dozen country tracks. By the time you arrive, you're beyond grateful for choosing the Jeep. Heaven alone knows how much more jostling and bouncing your teeth could take.

It's a nice place. A big cabin out in a clearing, the trees thick for miles around. Much nicer than the crummy hotel you'd otherwise have to settle for. You can't even hear the traffic.

Your friends grab their bags and the hitchhiker holds the front door open as you all file in. The entryway is clean and bright, and besides the lingering tang of bleach, there's nothing to set your suspicions racing. Honestly, you feel a little silly for being so paranoid. Must be the bad memories. They make you jumpy regardless of actual circumstances.

"Where's your friend?"

You turn just in time to see the hitchhiker slipping something small and metallic into his pocket.

"Is that the key for the -"

"My friend will be here soon," he talks over you, loud enough to get everyone's attention. "I'll show you guys your rooms and once you get settled, we can grab some beers and hit the hot tub."

He brushes past you and ignores your half-hearted grab for his arm. Your friends are already pounding up the stairs, too hyped to notice your expression. He pauses on the landing and looks back at you - the only one still standing by the door. His eyes are bright and almost hard.

"You coming?"

Nothing to be scared of, right? It's a common habit to lock the front door, especially out in the woods.

"Yep. Right behind you."

But no matter what you tell yourself, your feet still drag along when you follow him deeper into the cabin. Further and further from escape.

You're the only one who gets a room of their own. Everyone else is piled two and three deep in the guest rooms, half your buddies on couches more than beds.

You're also the last to get a room, so by the time he shows you your bed, it's only you and him. You wonder if he planned it on purpose.

"Quiet out here."

He hums in agreement, standing at your window and watching the woods. He stays silent while you unpack. Whatever he's watching for takes all his attention.

It's only when you hear your friends start splashing around in the hot tub that he speaks.

"You should probably take a shower before anyone else. The water is unreliable out here."

You silently agree. It's s been a long day, and while a quick dip in the jacuzzi sounds good, a hot shower and a cool bed sound even better. He pauses at your bedroom door to say good night. You're already heading to the bathroom and you only half hear the rest of his sentence.

"Sleep tight. And don't worry too much about any noises you hear. There's mountain lions around and the sound carries funny sometimes."

He closes your door softly behind him. Your en-suite is echoey, and when you turn on the water, you don't hear the quiet click of him locking you in.

After your shower, you're totally exhausted. You don't even bother leaving your room to check on your friends. You just curl up under your borrowed duvet and drift off. When you half wake at three in the morning to the dying echo of a scream, you mutter something about mountain lions and fall right back to sleep.

You don't see it but the figure in the corner of your room smiles. Moonlight catching for a split second on the butcher's knife in his hand.

"You always were a deep sleeper, baby. Can never remember your dreams."

Morning comes fast after that. When you wake, the only evidence of your midnight visitor is a slightly misplaced pair of sneakers that you're too drowsy to notice.

Your room door opens easily and you're half way down the stairs before you even start to wonder where your friends are.

Still sleeping probably. Had a late night.

The only sign that someone else is awake is a half empty pot of coffee and a dirty mug in the sink. You don't really feel comfortable rooting around in someone else's kitchen, but the hitchhiker did say to help yourself... You end up snatching a small Greek yogurt from the fridge and taking it out to the porch.

The forest is alive with bird song, dew still melting in the grass. It's peaceful. Tranquil. For the first time, you're entirely happy that you accepted the hitchhiker's offer.

The only thing that disrupts the picture perfect scene is a single discarded sneaker, thick with mud and left right in the middle of the yard.

You sigh. Did one of your friends really lose a whole shoe and not notice? You pick it up and knock the worst of the mud off.

So much for being well-behaved. You'll have to check over the whole place before you leave, make sure they haven't somehow tanked to the property value. The edges of the laces are stained a rusty red but you chalk it up to spilled wine or something.

You drop the shoe at the door and make your way back into the kitchen. It takes some searching but you finally find the dustbin, half hidden in a cupboard. Ugh, why do rich people always have to hide the trash away in the most obscure places?

Yesterday's paper is shoved under some tea bags, the edges of the front page barely visible.

CONVICTS ESCAPE COOK COUNTY

You frown, you gut suddenly nauseous and rolling. You dig the newspaper out of the trash. Slowly. Hesitantly. Amost afraid that the reality will be twice as bad as your suspicions. There's a massive stain on the front but you can still read the print clearly.

CONVICTS ESCAPE COOK COUNTY CORRECTIONS. MANHUNT UNDERWAY.

You don't bother to read the article. The pictures alone tell you everything. You feel sick enough to faint.

You didn't think you'd ever see his face again, but here it is. Mugshot slightly blurry and the ink starting to run. Scowling at the camera like he's more pissed at being caught than anything else.

Your ex boyfriend.

You might have been fine if it was just him. Might have called the DA and the lead homicide detective, begged for witness protection. But trouble never visits without company. There's another mugshot under his, this one captioned Serial Arsonist & Convicted Killer.

The hitchhiker wasn't smiling when the cops lined him up for his red carpet shoot. His eyes are as black and empty in his mugshot as they were last night. When he looked at you and said he was craving meat. Meat.

You might have laughed if you didn't think you were about to vomit. Yeah, he was probably craving meat alright. The roasted and still screaming kind.

You drop the newspaper, hands shaking so bad you can't hold onto it even if you wanted to.

"I told him to take out the trash. But does he listen?"

You whirl around. The hitchhiker is blocking the back door and holding your friend's lost sneaker, rolling the stained laces between his fingers.

"Thanks for grabbing this, gorgeous. If we missed it, the pigs would be back on our asses in no time."

You run.

You don't bother hearing him out or rationalising. You turn away from him and bolt straight for the front door.

You almost make it.

Your fingers just brush the metal of the doorknob before someone grabs a handful of your hair and yanks you towards them, hard enough that you end up on your back. Winded. Your scalp burning.

"Gonna leave without even saying hello? C'mon baby, is that how you greet your man?"

Your boyfriend is standing above you, smirking like this is all a game. He's still in his prison jumpsuit, the sleeves knotted around his waist. He's wearing a white tank and one glance is enough to tell you that prison has been great for his gym journey. His muscles - always toned to begin with - are positively huge.

He's always been strong, but the sight of him like this has your heart racing. How much harder can he hit, with all that extra bulk to back him up?

He slams you back onto the floor when you move to get up, his boot pressing into your sternum so hard you can almost hear your bones creaking.

"Aww, don't get up baby. Let's just talk. We've got so much to catch up on."

He presses his heel into you. Hard enough that you can't breathe out it hurting.

"Where to start... Oh, I know! Have you fucked anyone else while I've been gone? Gotten yourself a new man? Who's been between your legs while I've. Been. Rotting. Away?"

He punctuates his sentence with sharp jabs of his boot.

"No one," you managed to choke out. "Didn't have anybody."

He takes his boot off your chest and you suck in a painful breath, your lungs and ribs on fire. You roll onto you hands and knees, coughing.

Shit. Fuck.

He squats down so he's level with you, voice a sickly sweet drawl.

"You promise?"

"I-" Another painful coughing fit. "I swear. No one else."

"I don't know if I can believe you, baby. You said you loved me, and then you ratted on me to the cops. Not the best record."

He grabs your hair and hauls you to your feet, totally unbothered that you still can't breathe right.

You shriek and try to pull away, only for him to wrap a hand around your throat and pin you against his chest.

He squeezes hard enough that your larynx feels like it's going to collapse.

"What do you think I should do?"

You think he's asking you, but it's the hitchhiker that answers. He's leaning against the kitchen door, arms crossed like he's watching two kittens at play rather than seeing your boyfriend almost choke the life out of you.

"I reckon we should check. Her cunt should be all tight and wet after months without cock. And if it isn't...well, there's your answer."

"You hear that baby? We're gonna make sure you've been well behaved."

We?

You start fighting all the harder. One murderer is enough. You don't want both their hands on you. You'll never be able to scrub yourself clean again.

The hitchhiker smirks and pushes himself away from the wall. His pupils are all wide again, twin blackholes hungry enough to swallow you, your friends, the whole damn world.

Adrenaline is a hell of a thing but you're up against two convicted killers who've had nothing but time to get stronger. Who've had the world's hardest lessons in cruelty.

Your boyfriend lets go of your hair and grabs one flailing wrist. He bends your arm up your back until you heads tucked under his chin and you're standing on your tiptoes to alleviate the pressure.

The hitchhiker twists one ankle behind yours so you can't kick out of him. It feels like a move cops and wardens might use. He must have had it done to him plenty, if he can so easily put you in the same position.

"I'll scream."

That makes them laugh.

"Go on then gorgeous. Scream. No one heard your friends last night. What makes you think they'll hear you?"

Your friends... You were panicking so bad you hadn't even considered them. The hitchhiker sees your eyes go wide and grins that easy, friendly grin of his. The one that made you trust him enough to give him a ride.

"Oh, we took good care of them. I'll spare you the grisly details but there's no one left out here but us."

It's too awful to consider. Too visceral. Too unreal. Your mind blocks it out and changes your whole train of thought to focus on escaping.

You focus on your boyfriend. He isn't acting like himself. The same man who put his hand on the bible and swore before the court that he killed all those people because of you - that man - was suddenly willing to share? Was inviting someone else to enjoy your body?

"You're going to let him touch me? You killed my lab partner because you said he would jerk off to pictures of me. What the hell changed?"

Your boyfriend hums.

"A whole lot. He's my cellmate."

Like that explains anything!

The hitchhiker slips his fingers under the hem of your top, nails running along your waistband.

"He wouldn't shut up about you. Had your pictures pinned up above his bed and everything. It was so fucking annoying at first. My girl this, my baby that. But after a few months..."

He pops open the button of your jeans with a flick of his thumb. You jerk away but your boyfriend twists your arm even harder and you're forced to hold still.

"After a few months, I started to understand the appeal. Could see why he was so into you. And hell, I wanted a taste myself. Wanted to see if you lived up to the hype."

Your boyfriend is smiling. You can tell from his voice.

"And is she worth all the hard work we put in?"

The hitchhiker's hands are cold. You flinch when he slips his fingers past your panties. He rubs his thumb against your slit, savouring every inch.

"For her? I'd kill twice as many as we did last night."

He sighs as he feels your slick starting to collect around his knuckles. Without warning, he slides two fingers inside you. Cold, uncomfortably cold.

He has a guitarist's hands and you can feel the callouses on his fingertips scraping against your walls. Too rough. Too much.

"Just like I thought. Tight and wet. Your girls loyal to a fault."

Your boyfriend practically purrs.

"Been so good while I was gone, baby. You deserve a reward, dontcha?"

He leans down and nips your cheek. You feel sick. His teeth so close...

"Don't worry. We'll fill you up so good that you'll never try running again."

Your spring break road trip starts well and gets better. But the end? Well, it ends with a cock down your throat in and another in your cunt. It ends with a hand around your neck and teeth marks on your thighs. It ends with a reminder to always trust your instincts and to never, ever give rides to strangers.

[marshbarks]

i stopped in the middle of a game to type this. there's a slime about to attack me. whatever.

au where stan moves away a lot lot lot earlier. they met a little later. he only knew kyle for a couple years; long enough to form a bond neither of them will ever be free of. long enough to both fall in love.

and stan remembers certain things super clearly. kyle's birthday, for example, and the smile that kyle flashed when he showed up at the arcade to celebrate. yeah, all of kyle's other friends were there, sure, he was happy for that! but stan was a little late, so he'd gotten into a little bit of a funk. wanted his best friend at the party. its obvious how the entire mood of the place shifted once kyle caught sight of stan's hat at the entrance, getting his hand stamped to come in. they locked eyes, as they always do, and stan almost ripped his hand out of the attendant's grip with how fast he shot it into the air to wave. they spent most of the party side by side.

(eric and kenny are also in town at this point, but ken also ends up moving away because of family stuff. so for a while, its just eric and kyle still in south park. stan's there from age 9 - 12)

so then 5 years later, at 17, stan has re-met with kenny --- ken walked into the dispensary with one hand in their hair, the other holding a note, trying to read off their dads fucking order- sighing and dragging their hand down their face and mumbling behind their palm, just shoving the note into stan's hands. and stan tried small talk. mentioned how he had a friend as a kid with an orange parka like that- ken's face splits into a grin and they're like "yeah? did you? mhm? tell me all about 'em, marsh." and stan freezes, then he's rolling his eyes and laughing and being like dude cmon you can't just let me make an idiot of myself like that! kenny, holy shit- hold on. let me pack this bag and then i'm taking my break---

and they form crimson dawn. jimmy's out in LA too, trying to work the comedy angle still. hoping that being out somewhere high profile will do the trick. leo moved out of his place and is crashing at kenny's family's house while he works on getting on his feet. being the Only Guys From Their Fuckin TOWN out here, of COURSE they form a lil meetup at stan's place (which his dad is sooo proud of their big house, stan cmon PLEASE bring your friends here [what friends, dad?] to show off my wealth) and the band isn't even a thought at first. stan's always had his passion for music, but it hasn't ever been something he's taken seriously.

until jimmy picks up a notebook and sees some lyrics stan was fucking SUFFERING trying to write- and being someone who is well-versed in the art of rhyming for limerick purposes (one of his favorite forms of comedy)- he offers some help with the words. stan panics at first- no its okay seriously thats not even anything important- but leo looks it over over jimmy's shoulder and compliments him. and then before they know it, leo is softly singing the revisions to himself and kenny is humming a melody along- and it doesn't take long for the idea to plant itself.

and they've been performing now for a decade. honestly, they're still not super big. its all gigs in local clubs and bars. most of their music is passion projects and personal feelings in the songs. they've all got lives to lead, recruited someone into the group who films all their performances to put online. and.

every year, if they perform around may 26th, stan stamps something on the back of his hand. normally its just whatever he had on hand. sometimes it's a drawing from someone else in the band. sometimes its a stencil- it doesn't matter. all that matters is that he sings the same song as a celebration to a birthday he'll never forget. to his best friend, even now, and he throws his arm into the air, facing the crowd. the memory doesn't sit with the others as hard, and stan won't explain it. says it's an important tradition to him!

and this year, kyle stumbles across an uploaded video while he's trying to find new artists to listen to and sitting through a random youtube mix.

[yuyu1024]

Kitten

Pairings: San x Y/N

Genre/tags: fluff/smut/angst

Warning: mature content 🔞, protected/unprotected sex (wrap it up please), cursing, pet names, fwb

~~~ [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 1.5k ish?

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

A/N: oopps forgot to post this here. 😅 i posted this on wattpad a month ago

-----------------------------------------------------

🐱: are you busy?

🏔: hmm.

🏔: it depends

🏔: why?

You contemplate on what to answer him. You are not sure why you even texted him in the first place. You are just bored to death at the moment because you are sick and you can't even lift yourself up to bed. And you need your flirty bff to cheer you up a bit.

🐱: (typing...)

🏔: if you miss me. Why don't you just say it?

You roll your eyes away.

🐱: 🙄

🏔: 🤨

🏔: did you just rolled your eyes at me?

🐱: obviouslyyyyyyy

🏔: I will tickle you when we see each other. 😎

🐱: ❌️

🐱: you can't

🏔: make me stop then.

🏔: you know... i know every part of your body that is ticklish

🏔: 😈

🐱: plssss dont

🐱: or I'll break a rib

🏔: since when did you became this weak?🤨

🐱: well... since i got sick?

🐱: so pls.

🐱: no tickling. ❌️

🏔: sick?

🏔: are you really?

You paused.

It's getting pretty late already. If you start telling him the truth about you being sick at the moment, he'll for sure fly over and be the best guy that he is. And even if you want company now, you don't want to bother him or make him worried sick about you. You know he have an early schedule tomorrow for work and he should he sleeping soon.

🐱: nope.

🐱: i'm bored only.

🐱: not sick. 👍🏻

🏔: is that the only reason why you are texting me now?

🐱: whyyyy....?

🐱: dont u like meeeee texting you????

🐱: 🥺🥺🥺🥺

🏔: depends

🏔: do you miss me?

🐱: 🙄🙄🙄🙄

🐱: whatever

🐱: shut up

🐱: i said im bored

🐱: thats all.

🐱: i'll just sleep then.

🐱: 🫡 night night Sannie

🐱: 😘

Then silence. He didn't texted back again. So you assume he took the like you just told him.

However after more than five minutes.

🏔: ok.

🏔: i'm coming.

****

"She's upstairs..." your mom says to San who arrived 45 minutes later. "Did she asked you to buy her food?" She asks while eyeing the paper bag and plastic bag San is carrying while he is removing his shoes. "She hasn't been eating well lately... I'm glad she finally found something she likes... and she have a friend like you who is so kind to buy it for her..."

San stand straight, processing your mother's words. He is a little hurt that you haven't told him you have been sick  for awhile. That you acted you're fine but you're actually not.

"Ahm... are you staying for the night?" She adds

"If...I'm allowed to..."

Your mother smiles. "Of course you are. You are part of family now you know that..."

San smiles and enters, walking along with your mother up to the living room.

"I'll go to bed now... She's feeling a bit better now so I could sleep in peace tonight."

"Don't worry... I'll take care of her while you get good sleep." San says

"Thank you..." she pats San's shoulder. "The medicine I took is actually kicking in now so... I'll be in deep sleep." Then she yawns. "Just make yourself home and make sure she eat..." she begins to walk to the corridor towards the master bedroom downstairs.

"Goodnight Mrs. Y/N."

***

You are not aware that San is already at your house. You are on your bed and sleeping. Well, you didn't intend to fall asleep quick but the ASMR video you have playing on your Ipad got you drowsy and became a lullaby.

San knocks softly at your door before he gently pushes it open. "Kitten...are you awake?" His voice is velvet and yet so soft as a cloud.

You didn't answer of course. All he hears is your breathing and mumbling. You tend to do that when you sleep and dream.

He breathes a smile, happy to see that you look comfy and peaceful. "Oh, kitten." He closes the door and makes his way to the side of the bed where you are facing.

He then places his palm on your forehead, checking if you still have a fever or not.

"Mmm..." you become restless the second you feel his cold hand onto you. "Sannie...?" You slowly blink your eyes open and adjust to the light of your lampshade.

"I'm here now, kitten..." he leans down and kisses the top of your head.

Your lips breaks into a weak but joyful smile. "Are you here to make me feel better?"

He nuzzles his face to yours, "why didn't you tell me you got sick?"

"I didn't want to make you worry..."

"But I am now..." he takes the thick blanket covering you and scoop you up. He makes you get up, sit on his lap, spreading your legs and facing him. "Let me help you feel better..." he whispers low

"But... I feel weak... I don't think I would survive if..." you embrace him, laying your head on his shoulder. "Sannie...if you fuck me tonight... I might break."

He chuckles. "I promise... I'll slow down for you, Kitten."

He then lifts you up and carefully made you lay back down to your bed. You legs hanging on the edge. "Let's prep you first." He says while going down on his knees. "I haven't had this pussy for more than a month now..."

"Oh god." You gasp as you feel him pull down your shorts and panties all at once,revealing you bare and needy.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"N-no...but..."  you grasp on to your bedsheets, preparing for it.

"Then let me just do everything for you..." he leans closer. You can feel his warm breath over your sensitive skin. "This is also... your punishment....for not telling me... that you are sick..." he whispers every word at the end as he push his face more. "Hmmm..." he hums brushing his lips over your pussy and pushing your thighs apart more.

"Fuck." You mumble under your breath

"Keep it down okay. Your mother might here us..."

And after his last reminder to be quiet. You already forgot how to even breathe properly.

"Ughh... s...s...s-annie...." you arch your back, hips moving along his every lick and dip. "Ah! Fuck!"

San fucks you with his tongue giving no care in the world. Your noises is making him to do the most.

"Sannie!" You whine, "please..."

He smiles, pressing his thumb on your sensitive clit. "Yes, kitten?" Then showers you with kisses down there. "Talk to me..."

You try to catch your breathe as you feel something in your stomach tightens. "Please..."

"Please what?" He stands up, hover over you and then watch you beg him to get fucked. "You know... if you want it....say it."

You grab him by his shirt and pull him down to kiss you. He moans at your kiss. He softens at your eagerness to take his lips that were just on your pussy a minute ago. He... he gets hard and aching when suddenly playfully and lightly tug his lower lips with your teeth

"Since when do my kitten learn how to bite? Hmm?" He arches his brow, smirking.

"Since my Choi San... makes me... beg...for him... to... fuck me..." you say in between each kiss to his eyes, nose, cheeks and forehead

He chuckles. "I'm supposed to be punishing you right? And not you making me more needy than you..."

"Oh Mr. Choi San..." you tease him calling him by his full name again. "We both know that you like me so much that you can't really punish me..."

"Are you saying I fold over your sweet words and...sweet pussy?"

"I do." You giggle as you make an effort to make him change position with you. Now you are on top of him and he is in awe watching you straddle him.

"I thought you would break if I fuck you...?"

"Yes... I said that..." you then start to unbuckle his pants and shimmy it down  to his thights, exposing his erected, hard, thick and leaking length. "But I'm the one fucking you... so..." you gently push yourself down, taking him in you, slowly.

"Ugh! Fuck!" His mouth opens in an O as your pussy swallows him whole. "Kitten..."

"Make me feel better..." you breathe, biting your lower lip. "I'll only stop once you come..." then leaning down and sucking a skin on his neck. "I'll stop when you come IN me...to be exact."

San chuckles that his chest vibrates. "Fucking hell..."

[mistress-skywalker]

I'm the same anon who asked for that Anakin x ftm reader and I love it, I thought it was so good! I've noticed it's pretty rare for anyone to write x make reader stuff for Anakin so I was so happy to find your blog in the first place too.

The picture you used had like a glimpse of Anakin's prosthetic arm, and now I can't stop thinking about it. He does a lot of tinkering with droids, so why not his arm too?

Anyway could I have an Anakin x trans ftm reader where Anakin has made some 'special modifications' to his arm, please? Maybe his fingers vibrate, or change temperature, or can give mild shocks, or why not all three? And any other ideas you want to add on to that

Oh my gosh I’m so glad you liked it! I’ve also noticed that and it’s disappointing. Even though I’m a cis woman I still feel as though the fem readers that are written are still a very small specific kind and it’s frustrating bc I still don’t fit into that box. I believe as though everyone should be able to enjoy self inserts with their faves!! I hope you enjoy this one as well! <3

Warnings: slight smut obvs || ftm reader || Anakin’s modified arm/inappropriate use of it || I didn’t know how to end this 🧍🏻‍♀️

Anakin grins as he walks into your shared Coruscant apartment.

You glance up from the book you’d been reading, “What’s got you smiling like that?”

He shrugs nonchalantly, plopping down beside you, “Oh nothing, just spent some time tinkering..”

You nod slowly, “Mhm..with what..?”

“This.” He holds up his cybernetic arm.

Quirking your eyebrows up, you mark the page in your book and set it down. “Care to elaborate?”

“Why don’t I just show you?” He asks, his voice dropping down an octave.

Leaving you no time to answer, he’s already pushed you onto your back and is making quick work of your pants.

“Anakin..?”

“Shh shh. It’ll be good. Just trust me.” He starts by teasing his hand up along your legs lightly, upping your articulation. He looks at your face before adjusting something on his arm; his metal fingers now suddenly a lot cooler on your skin.

You gasp softly, “What’s that?”

His smile widens, “Just a new modification.” He trails his hand higher, allowing the cold tips of his fingers to ghost over your tip.

You jolt, letting out a moan at the new sensation.

“What do you think, sweet boy?” He asks.

“..its..different..”

“Good different? Or bad?”

“Good. Good.” You breathe out, feeling his fingers tease over you again, earning a small moan.

“That’s it,” he praises quietly, adjusting the setting on his hand.

A loud moan is ripped from your lips feeling the vibrations coming from his prosthetic. “You like that?” He asks, nipping at your neck.

“Mhm..’t’s good.”

He smiles against your skin, “Good. I did this all for you. Can add more if you want. Just tell me what you like.”

Anakin would do any and everything you asked of him when it came to your pleasure.

[theallianceofcelestials]

Hey its me again!

So if this isn't spoilers for the second SEA's book, could you write a small drabble about Eclipse singing? Like maybe he thinks he's alone and starts singing, meanwhile the family were just about to enter the room but stop and sneakily crack the door open? Or maybe one of his siblings are sick and when everyone is out he starts singing? You don't have to write this right away, I saw that your wrists was hurting in the recent tag, take care of yourself and I hope you feel better soon!

- 🎭

I shall do the sick sibling one

Eclipse looks down at the miserable pile of blankets that's currently hiding Solar Flare

It's really a sad sight like this, constantly shivering and sneezing. When he last checked its temperature was pretty high too. Clearly caught whatever bug Killcode had last week.

Only difference, Solar Flare has trouble falling asleep.

"Come on Flare, you are tired aren't you?"

It just looks at him in that sad way it has, and he sighs.

"What's about to happen won't leave this room, got it?"

Now it turns to looks at him almost curiously, and he's already regretting every life decision that led him here

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine"

God he's rusty. He sounds like he's trying to grind down metal. But his sibling is looking at him with big, wide eyes, so he powers through the embarrassement

"You make me happy when skies are gray"

It seems to have relaxed some. Perhaps the sickness made it very tired already, but the pain made it unable to sleep.

"You'll never know, dear, how much I love you"

He can see it slowly fall asleep, until by the end of his sentence it's laying its head on one of the pillows. He can see it's breathing slow

"Please don't take my sunshine away"

Eclipse slowly lifts a blanket over it, then rubs at its topmost spike-ray. It nuzzles into his probably cold hand sleepily.

Despite himself, he can't help but smile

[followsfrankiep]

Don't Worry About Her (Eddie Brock x Reader)

Summary: They always say, when a guy tells you not to worry about his girl best friend, you probably should. Izzy's wild and free-spirited nature has always contrasted with her best friend Eddie's quest for stability. Now that Eddie is engaged, he never expected Izzy to complicate things for both of them.

TW: Smut, Unprotected Sex, Explicit Words, Cheating, Minors DNI.

Word count: 5.8k

A/N: the word count just keeps getting bigger and bigger. I cant help it, sorry! Let me know if you guys are getting tired of them already 😂 pls leave a comment or reblog if u appreciate it. U guys have no idea how much that motivates me 😩 thanks and enjoy!!! 😘

Previous part: https://www.tumblr.com/followsfrankiep/776520908847398912/dont-worry-about-her-eddie-brock-x-reader

Part 3- Thankful Puppy Dog

Tater tots.

It was the only thing he found in their fridge—just a couple of bags of tater fucking tots.

Eddie scratched his head in frustration, already dreading the holiday rush he'd face later. Anne asked him to buy the groceries for the upcoming Thanksgiving since she has to go to a deposition that day. His fiancée had been working non-stop ever since their firm took on the Life Foundation, a pioneering organization in bio-engineering, as a client.

That meant he would be cooking for the both of them as well. She was barely home lately, and whenever she was, her stack of work always accompanied her. It didn't bother Eddie; in fact, he was thankful Anne was occupied. His guilt intensified whenever she looked him in the eyes.

Yes, guilt and everything else.

You'd think they would have stopped fooling around at the bar, that Eddie would have the decency to put his foot down and be a doting fiancé. Oh boy. Izzy had stayed a few more days in San Francisco, and while she was around, they resumed their secret, indecent encounters whenever they got the chance. But that was a couple of months ago. Who knows when she'll show up again and turn his peaceful world upside down?

Overcompensating had become Eddie's new bestfriend. Without his fuck buddy around, he could think straight and be the doting lover he was supposed to be. He did all sorts of domesticated things—cooking, cleaning, dishes, laundry, and of course, grocery shopping. He was the perfect, understanding fiancé in Anne's eyes. She couldn't ask for more—their apartment was spotless, free of any dirt that might come. Too clean, too good.

As Thanksgiving approached, Eddie found himself at the grocery store, navigating the aisles filled with holiday shoppers. While picking out ingredients for the upcoming feast, he unexpectedly bumped into Izzy's mom.

"Well, if it isn't Eddie Brock," she exclaimed with a warm smile. Mrs. Knight had always adored Eddie, treating him like her own son.

"Hello, Mrs. Knight. It's great to see you," Eddie replied, genuinely happy to run into her, giving her a quick and warm hug.

The older woman with can't help but to chat with him, expressing how proud she was of him, both as a person and a journalist. She had similar features with Izzy, especially when they smile, the corner of their eyes would wrinkle. She was a lovely woman, just like her daughter.

Mrs. Knight's face lit up with curiosity. "So, how's your fiancée, Anne? I heard you two are getting married soon."

Eddie smiled, feeling a pang of guilt for the recent events but genuinely appreciating her interest. "Anne's doing great, Mrs. Knight. We're really excited about the wedding."

Mrs. Knight's expression softened, a hint of sadness shadowing her eyes. She was genuinely happy for Eddie, truly. At least one of her children had found someone to share their life with. But she couldn't help but think of the "what ifs" and "could have beens" that lingered in her mind. "Anne is a very lucky girl..." she murmured, her voice trailing off as a sigh slipped from her lips.

"I know how much of a handful my daughter can be and how well you've always taken care of her as a friend," she continued, her voice soft and tender. "But I always hoped there might have been something more between you two." She offered him a gentle smile.

He thought about his complicated friendship-relationship, whatever you want to call it, with Izzy. How tiring and chaotic it was most of the time, but for years, it was worthwhile. He waited for her, loved her still, but the situation is different now. He loves Anne, that should be it. Forcing a smile, he answered.

"Izzy never really looked at me that way, Mrs. Knight. We're okay with just being friends."

What a liar.

"Well, Eddie, no matter what, you'll always be like family to us. I hope you know that." She said, and placed a comforting hand on his arm.

With a warm smile, Mrs. Knight added, "Why don't you and Anne join us for Thanksgiving dinner at our house? It would mean so much to us."

Eddie hesitated, he wanted to. The Knight household was basically his second home. But his thoughts immediately turning to Izzy. That woman would not care, and still cause trouble even if Anne was around.

"That sounds wonderful, Mrs. Knight. Do you think Izzy will be there?"

Mrs. Knight sighed, a knowing look in her eyes. "You know her—she's always been a free spirit. I can't say for sure if she'll be around. But regardless, we would love to have you there, son."

Izzy's parents had always treated Eddie like one of their own, and he was thankful for that considering he's never had an ideal parental situation at home. His mom died giving birth to him, and his dad often blamed him for it. Growing up, he resented the place he went to by the end of each day, and often call the Knight's as his home. On the other hand, as their only child, Izzy was the center of their world, and when Eddie came into her life, they were thrilled she had a constant companion and trusted friend. They welcomed him with open arms, embracing him as a part of their family.

He missed being around them, and felt a surge of gratitude and affection for the older lady. "Thank you. We'll be there," he said with a genuine smile, even as thoughts of Izzy lingered in the back of his mind.

Back home, he was relieved when Mrs. Knight invited him and Anne over for Thanksgiving dinner, saving him from all the holiday preparations. Luckily, Anne liked the idea when he asked her. They could just show up, enjoy dinner, and not worry about dishes. Besides, his best friend wouldn't be there anyway, so he was safe from temptations.

A day before Thanksgiving, Izzy suddenly sent him a text—a picture of several kinds of chocolates, followed by a message:

"Which one do you want?"

She rarely left him a message nor called him; it wasn't her thing. Even her social media account was an empty canvas. For someone who loved traveling and exploring, she certainly kept those adventures to herself. Whenever she did reach out, it was mostly about asking him what goodies he liked and buying them for him to take home.

Eddie smiled while replying to her message. She was always thoughtful and took pleasure in seeing him smile whenever she handed him a bag of treats.

"Surprise me, Iz."

Not long after that, she replied.

"Oh boo you."

He chuckled when he read her reply, knowing she hated vague answers— which was ironic, considering the status of their relationship. They hardly addressed what they were at this point. It was easier before when neither of them was in a committed relationship with another decent person. Izzy wasn't asking him to leave his fiancée, nor did she define their relationship. Again, that's just who they were. That quick exchange was powerful enough to keep him in a good mood through the rest of the night.

Man, the hold she has on him.

That was part of her charm, whether she knew that or not, her spontaneous message and thoughtful gestures made him feel both excited and seen as the same time. She was a lethal dose of dopamine and oxytocin, shooting his high from time to time, making it hard for him to resist.

They arrived late as opposed to the early dinner call time they both agreed to.

Eddie and Anne had just settled in, arriving at the Knight household, she got caught up with work again therefore causing delays. Suddenly, Izzy made her entrance, looking like she overslept during her afternoon nap, dressed in a matching lace lounge wear set, consisting of a tank top and shorts that showed off her belly button and long legs, she descended the stairs to check on the preparations. She had actually arrived that morning, fully aware that the couple would be coming over.

Anne, taken aback by Izzy's revealing attire, couldn't hide her surprise. Izzy, however, appeared completely unfazed, her confidence radiating as she greeted the couple with a kiss on each cheek.

"Oh, I didn't know you two were coming," she acted surprised.

She knew. Right after her mom met and invited Eddie at the store, the older lady was so excited to have them over, she couldn't wait to tell her daughter about it. For the sake of the old times, wanting to be with her 'kids' during this festive time, her mom bugged her to come home as well.

Eddie felt a familiar stirring beneath him as he took in Izzy's appearance, he was not mentally prepared to see her that day, more so to see her in that sexy pieces of fabric. He quickly tried to compose himself, careful to be seen drooling at the sight of his bestfriend by his fiancé. There was trouble brewing, and the thoughts running through his mind was another battle.

Isobel, this is a deliberate tease.

Anne, still a bit stunned, managed to smile and respond politely. "It's nice to see you, Izzy. You look... comfortable."

Her discomfort was visible. She couldn't help but feel uneasy seeing Izzy in such revealing clothing in front of her partner. The casual intimacy of Izzy's attire and demeanor made Anne question the nature of their friendship, invoking a sense of insecurity she couldn't quite shake. She tightened her grip on Eddie's arm, which sent him back to reality.

"Thanks, Anne. It's great to see you both. I'm just making sure everything's ready for dinner." Izzy grinned, her confidence intact.

As they all made their way to the kitchen, the delicious aroma of the cooking dishes filled the air. The warmth of the Knight household was felt, and Izzy's interactions with her parents highlighted just how sweet and caring she could be. Izzy's mom is an exceptional cook, bustling around the kitchen, preparing a feast they knew would be memorable. They decided to help with the finishing touches of the dishes, sharing stories as they worked.

Anne, still grappling with her discomfort, tried to focus on the hospitality given to them. She did not want to be that person to ruin a holiday just because she was uncomfortable. She looked at her fiancé, who has a smile plastered on his face, one she's never seen before. He was more relaxed, and at home.

Eddie couldn't help but share stories of the countless times he had spent at the their household. "I spent most of my time here growing up," he said, giving Anne a nostalgic smile. "Izzy and I would always find an excuse to stay for dinner."

Family dinners, holiday gatherings, and even casual weekend barbecues always had a place for Eddie. Mrs. Knight, in particular, had a soft spot for him, often slipping him extra servings of her food and listening intently to his stories as if he were her own son. Mr. Knight, with his warm chuckles and gentle advice, made Eddie feel like he truly belonged.

Izzy chuckled, adding, "Yeah, especially when Mom was making her famous lasagna. Eddie couldn't resist. He'd take more home as well!"

Anne listened and laughed, she felt herself relax, watching the natural camaraderie between them from her seat. The sight of Eddie and Izzy fussing over the older woman, helping her with whatever she needed, moving in sync proved this was not their first rodeo. For her, it was a new experience, and her second time meeting Eddie's best friend. She quickly saw where Izzy got her charms—her mother's warmth and kindness were clearly passed down.

Eddie's laughter filled the room as he teased Izzy. Her mom looked at them with a soft smile, both amused and exasperated.

"You two are supposed to be grown ups now," she said, shaking her head gently, "always making a mess of my kitchen. You're ruining the presentation of my dishes!"

Her scolding was gentle, more affectionate than reprimanding, and Anne could see the genuine love and affection within the family as her initial surprise at Izzy's attire began to fade. It was clear that their bond was built on deep-rooted care and connection. Anne felt satisfied seeing Eddie so happy around them, the joy radiating from his face as he engaged with Izzy and her family. The more she observed, the more she understood and appreciated the unique dynamics that made their friendship so special.

Meanwhile, behind that playful smile, Eddie found it increasingly difficult to keep his focus. His eyes secretly kept drifting to Izzy's shorts, and his mind raced with thoughts he knew he shouldn't entertain. He just wants to bend her over the kitchen counter and pound on her from behind. She was driving him crazy.

The Knight household was spacious enough for Izzy's mom to have a dedicated storage room for her finest collection of china. With a special holiday upon them and her children gathered, along with Anne as a special guest, it was the perfect occasion to bring out the treasured pieces. Mrs. Knight was eager to get to know the woman who had captured Eddie Brock's heart and, in the meantime, tasked her two kids to bring it out. As they made their way to the storage room, they navigated the small space with care, mindful of the delicate nature of the items they were handling.

Eddie's thoughts raced as he followed Izzy into the confined space. He was both surprised and thrilled to see her, but the unexpected encounter left him feeling slightly off balance. "You really caught me off guard today," he admitted, watching her move gracefully among the shelves.

"I thought you knew I'd be here when I asked which chocolate you'd like," Izzy turned to him with a playful grin.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "So with just, you know, a couple of texts, I should assume you're coming home?"

"Duh. For a smart man, you tend to be oblivious sometimes."

He wasn't oblivious. Izzy was just that vague and unpredictable. Eddie knew better than to make any assumptions about her plans.

As they continued to search through the china collection, the close quarters made their occasional brushes against each other more frequent. Each touch sent a jolt of electricity through Eddie, heightening the tension between them. He couldn't help but be drawn to her, the familiar pull of their connection growing stronger with each passing moment.

Izzy had always enjoyed surprising Eddie, and seeing his reaction today was no exception. For her, it wouldnt hurt if her best friend got teased and got shook up from time to time. It was her way into grounding him to the reality, as long as he is not married to Anne yet, she was not planning into halting her mischief anytime soon.

Still on their quest on finding the appropriate china, beneath the surface, unspoken emotions simmered. Eddie couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Izzy's unexpected visit, a deeper reason behind her sudden appearance.

"I could've prepared," Eddie said, his voice softening, staring at her.

Izzy paused her search, turning to face him, her mind puzzled by his words. She leaned in closer, her breath warm against his ear. "Prepared for what?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Many things.

His heart raced as he met her gaze, the intensity of the moment leaving him breathless. He felt the weight of their shared history, the unspoken emotions that had always lingered between them. "Prepared for you," he thought, but he couldn't bring himself to say it out loud. It seemed like she understood anyway; he didn't need to say it. Silence would save them both from further complications in an already complex situation.

But she just had to ask...

"If you knew I'd be here, would you still come with Anne?"

She saw the hesitation in his eyes. Oh, Eddie.

He didn't want to hurt Anne, but he kept crawling back to the woman in front of him. "I don't know," he admitted honestly. "Maybe I would have tried to find a way to see you alone."

A puppy dog.

Whenever she saw him, he reminded her of a loyal puppy, always seeking his owner's love and attention. She knew Eddie would never blatantly ask her to kiss him or rekindle whatever physical intimacy they had, given his commitment to someone else. But she knew the longing in his eyes, the unspoken desire. So, she'd take the initiative, bridging the gap between them with a boldness he couldn't muster.

"Well, we're alone now..." she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Izzy took a step closer, her eyes locked onto his. She could see the conflict in his gaze, the unspoken desires swirling just beneath the surface. Slowly, her hands traveled to his chest, her fingers tracing up to the back of his neck. Eddie's breath hitched as she closed the distance between them.

"It's okay," she whispered repeatedly, her voice soothing. She nodded slightly, maintaining her gaze.

Eddie's eyes fluttered closed as their noses brushed softly against each other, he was going nuts again. Unable to verbalize what both of them are feeling that moment, but their hearts are pounding in unison. Izzy could feel his breath on her lips, and the moment seemed to stretch on forever.

"It's me, Eddie... Just me." Her fingers tracing circles at his nape, urging him to come closer.

Finally, she closed the remaining distance, her lips pressing against his in a kiss, starting out to be gentle. She was an angel with a sweet tasting set of plush red lips. Eddie's hands found their way to her her lower back, pulling her closer as he responded to her kiss. He savored the taste of her lips, the heat of her embrace, feeling his cock starting to solidifying underneath his pants.

They finally broke apart, breathless and dazed, the reality of their situation crashing down around them. Eddie's eyes darkened as he called her name, sounding desperate. "Izzy..."

Knowing what it meant, she whispered, her voice hinting concern, "Now?"

He nodded, his heart racing with anticipation and desire. This was her aphrodisiac, the thrill of knowing the people they were hiding their encounters from are just a thick wall away from them, and in that moment, they both knew they couldn't resist the pull any longer.

"Okay."

Say less.

He can't help it, he turned her to face the wall and stood behind her while bending her over, his hands gripped on her sides and started grinding on her ass. His fingers ran through the lace covering her cunt, it was warm and soaking wet, and played with her folds.

"Mmm.. Eddie..." Izzy faintly moaned, her hands holding unto the wooden cabinet.

"You're dripping, baby... I'll take care of you, huh?" Eddie said, smirking.

He needed to be inside her now. His thumb and index finger playing with her clit, and his other hand popped his cock out of his pants, pumping it as it leaks his pre cum. He swiftly pulled her lace shorts down, and hissed as he positioned the tip of his cock in her entrance. They never did it raw before, but the heat of the moment got the better of them, and they had to be quick before Anne looks for them.

"Iz, I'll just pull out, okay?" Eddie asked, his concern of doing her unprotected was evident.

Izzy nodded quickly and pleaded. "I need you inside, now."

He entered her slowly, pushing through her walls, sending him waves of pleasure. "Fuck, this feels good, Iz." Eddie groaned, his cock inside her, already pounding away, her pussy soaking wet for him. Izzy bit her lips preventing a moan to escape her lips but an occasional groan and gasps slips out from the both of them. His head fell back with his eyes closed while his hips snapping into her back and forth. They fucked all the time but with protection, always with a condom, and it was already amazing. But pounding inside her raw velvety walls was far different, so fucking good that he could himself about to explode earlier than he can usually last, but he has to hold it, ladies cums first.

"Kids? Did you find what you need in there?"

They heard her mom call out to them. It became more urgent. Izzy has her eyes closed, and lower lip bitten. She didn't want to answer her mom because Eddie was pounding in her deep, hitting her spot again and again, struggling to keep her moans. In a desperate attempt, she answered.

"Y-Yeah, mom... We'll be out in a few, just being.. careful here." Izzy panted, chiming back.

What they were doing right now was the opposite of careful.

The sight of her struggling and gasping for air turned him even more, Eddie's left hand reached for her breasts and kneaded on them, fiddling with her nipple, while his other hand rubbed circles on her clit, stimulating it even more. It was getting harder for her to avoid making sounds as she reaches her peak.

Izzy gulped down, with her eyes closed, feeling a knot in her stomach building.

"That feels so good, Eddie... oh god.. don't stop.. I'm close.."

Her voice calling his name was like the sweetest honey, dripping with warmth and melody. It was like hearing an angel whispering his name, tugging at his very core.

"I know baby... cum for me, alright?"

His pace quicken and he felt her clench around him, about to climax soon. He steadied himself again by placing both of his hands on each side of her hips, thrusting into her deeper and faster. Izzy arched her back, hips shaking as her orgasm culminated, with Eddie coming in close.

"Ohhh Yes.. yes.. yes.." her silent moans sent him over the edge, feeling his cock glazed with her warm liquid. Her voice had the power to unravel his desires further more.

"Iz... can't hold it anymore.." he panted, she feels too fucking good, he can't last long. He was looking around the small space where to put his load, but it was all plates, bowls and silverwear. "I can't cum inside you." his voice was nearly pleading and filled with urgency.

They didn't think it through.

"M-mouth." Izzy huffed, pulling herself away from him.

Good thing she did, or else he would've exploded inside her. His hand pumped his already lubricated cock as Izzy kneeled infront of him. Eddie brushed her hair away from her beautiful face, then grabbed her jaw, blowing his load insider her mouth, filling it with his thick hot seed. There was something about her untamed locks that added to her allure and her deep brown eyes staring back at him with her mouth opened wide, catching all his drippings.

"How can you be so beautiful and bad, huh?"

Eddie furrowed his eyes down at her, seeing her swallow his cum again, and giving him a playful smile after she did. She looked fucking sexy. He will never get tired of this.

--

Thanksgiving was a time for gratitude and togetherness, and he wanted to honor the moment, despite the conflicting feelings swirling within him. As they gathered around the table, Eddie knew he had to keep his composure. He was just fucked up a few minutes ago. Izzy's parents and Anne were not even suspicious since they were fully engrossed on getting to know each other.

Mrs. Knight looked at her daughter's attire and couldn't help but speak up. "Izzy, honey, could you at least put on a jacket? It's Thanksgiving, after all."

Izzy rolled her eyes playfully, clearly not thrilled about the idea. "Do I have to, Mom? We're all family here."

Her mom gave her a gentle but firm look. "Yes, you do. We have guests, and it's only appropriate."

With a dramatic sigh, Izzy finally relented. "Fine, fine," she said, heading upstairs to grab a jacket.

Turning to Eddie and Anne, Mrs. Knight offered an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry about her, Anne. She's always had a liberated side. But Eddie, you've known her long enough to be used to it."

Eddie chuckled, scratching the back of his head, his mind momentarily reminded him of what he just saw. "Yeah, Mrs. Knight, I've seen it all."

He did. Not just seen—touched, licked, sucked, fucked, Eddie did it all. Just now, raw. They just don't know.

The dinner proceeded filled warmth and humor. Eddie couldn't help but compliment Mrs. Knight's cooking. "I'm so grateful to be back here. As always, the food is the best."

Anne nodded in agreement, smiling warmly. "I agree. I hope the food at our wedding will be as good as this."

The mention of the wedding sent shivers down Eddie's spine. He almost forgot he's bethroted to the blonde woman sitting next to him. He glanced at Izzy infront of him, trying to gauge her reaction. However, didn't seem fazed. She playfully raised her brows at him and took a big gulp of wine.

Eddie's heart pounded as he forced a smile, but Izzy remained calm and composed, her playful demeanor hiding any hint of the secret encounter they'd shared earlier.

"You know, Anne," Mrs. Knight began, "When these two were still little, Izzy would refuse to go anywhere without Eddie."

Izzy's dad chimed in eagerly, nodding his head, "It's true. Eddie was practically a fixture in this house. Our daughter needed a partner in crime, and Eddie fit the bill perfectly."

Her father was a retired veteran, a high-ranking one, and often deployed to different parts of the world. That's why she was able to live comfortably growing up. You might think that having a vet dad would make her disciplined and serious, but when you have a daughter as an only child, you tend to give her the world.

Her parents spoke about the time Izzy stole her dad's pickup truck and got caught driving without a license. They laughed, reminiscing about how Eddie had to come to the rescue and drive her home. That night was just one of many adventures they shared.

She had her mom's beauty and her dad's thirst for adventure.

Anne laughed, her earlier apprehensions with Izzy completely melting away. "It sounds like you two had quite the adventures."

As she listened to the stories, it dawned on her that Izzy was like family to Eddie, and there was nothing to worry about.

Or so she thought.

Out of the blue, she suddenly received a work call, requiring her to go home. She felt bad about leaving, especially since Izzy's parents yearned for Eddie, so she insisted he stay there and enjoy the evening, in which he reluctantly agrees.

"Don't worry! I'll drive him home!" Izzy chimed as Anne left.

When it was just the four of them, it felt like they went back in time. Eddie, Izzy, and her parents sat around the familiar dining table, the same one that had witnessed countless meals, laughter, and heartfelt conversations over the years.

He glanced at Izzy, looking as radiant as ever, her eyes sparkling with the same adventurous spirit that had drawn him to her in the first place. He loves Anne, but what he felt for his best friend was different.

For a few precious hours, it was as if nothing had changed.

As the night drew to a close, Izzy turned to her mom with a heartfelt smile. "Thanks for the amazing dinner, Mom," she said, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek.

Eddie watched the tender moment, his heart warmed by the sight of Izzy with her family. Despite her unpredictable nature, Izzy had always been loving and caring, especially when it came to those she held dear. They volunteered to clean up, just like the old times.

Izzy's dad, still a bit groggy from his earlier nap, stretched and gave a satisfied sigh. "I think it's time for us old folks to head to bed," he said with a chuckle. "You kids enjoy the rest of your evening."

Her mom nodded in agreement, giving Eddie a warm smile. "It was wonderful having you here, Eddie. Don't be a stranger, alright?"

Eddie nodded, feeling a deep sense of gratitude. "Thank you, Mrs. Knight. It was great to be here."

Her parents retreated to their room, leaving Eddie and Izzy alone to clean up after dinner. Eddie stood at the sink, washing dishes, while Izzy dried them and placed them back in the cabinets. The room was quiet, save for the sound of running water and the clinking of dishes.

Focusing on the task at hand, Izzy broke the silence. "My mom really likes Anne," she said, her tone neutral.

"Yeah, she does," Eddie agreed, nodding.

Izzy's words hung in the air, and Eddie found himself glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. Her face was composed, it was always hard for Eddie to read the depth of Izzy's emotions. Her voice was steady, but there was a subtle tension in her movements that he couldn't quite decipher.

The way her fingers lingered on the dishes, the brief moments when her eyes would meet his and then quickly look away. Each gesture seemed loaded with meaning, but he struggled to grasp what she truly felt. It was as if there was an invisible barrier between them, one that prevented him from fully understanding the emotions swirling inside her.

An awkward silence filled the air, both have a lot of things in mind, especially him. Eddie hesitated, then asked, "Do you like Anne too?"

He studied Izzy's facial expression, searching for any hint of her true feelings. She smiled, but it was one that didn't reach her eyes. "I have no complaints," she replied vaguely, turning back to dry another plate.

Eddie's heart ached at her response, knowing there was so much left unsaid. What would he do if he knew she didn't like her or whatever she truly felt towards his fiancé? What difference would it make? Her calm exterior left Eddie to wonder what might have been if things were different.

He was dying to ask her, to provide clarity and understand her better, but he knew that doing so would only complicate things further.

As they continued cleaning up, Izzy asked, "Have you and Anne picked a final date for the wedding yet?"

Eddie hesitated for a moment before answering. "Anne has been very busy lately, so we haven't discussed it yet."

She hummed in response, her expression thoughtful. It was evident that something was going through her mind, but she didn't dare to elaborate.

They finished cleaning and nothing else more to do, Izzy reached her hand out to Eddie, with her usual playful smile on her lips.

"How many have you got?"

Eddie chuckled, understanding her playful challenge. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, extracting two packets of rubber. Handing them to her while shaking his head, he couldn't help but laugh at her antics. She had a knack for diffusing awkward situations and, fortunately for him, this was one of her ways.

"Come on," Izzy whispered with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Let's head upstairs."

She took his hand, her light-hearted giggle echoing through the hallway as she led him towards the staircase. Eddie followed, his gaze fixed on her, captivated by the way she effortlessly reeled him in. The way she moved, the infectious joy she radiated, made his heart flutter with anticipation. As they made their way to her room, a smile played on his lips as she locked the door behind him. With Izzy, every moment felt like a new adventure waiting to unfold.

It was a long marathon-like night. The two packets were used much to their content.

They are quietly lying side by side, wrapped in each other's arms. Suddenly, a loud snore echoed through the house—it was Izzy's dad, sound asleep. The unexpected noise made them burst into laughter. Eddie felt a deep sense of comfort, as if he had come home. Everything felt right tonight.

With his arm around Izzy's waist, he drew her closer. She looked at him with a warm smile, gazing into each other's eyes, the world around them fading away. Slowly, he leaned in, his lips meeting hers.

Eddie's mind spun with regret and longing. He couldn't help but wonder if waiting for Izzy would have changed things. The thrill-seeking nature of hers was always at odds with the idea of settling down. Her life, though comfortable and stable, was always a search for excitement.

She brushed his hair back, a touch that made his heart beat faster. "I promised Anne I'd drive you home," she murmured softly, giving him a soft smile, her words filled with a sense of duty.

However, didn't want to leave her side, feeling he'd be stupid to let go of this beautiful dove to fly away again, not knowing when she'll return. Instead of answering, he leaned in and kissed her again, moving on top of her, letting his emotions guide his actions. Without any warning, Eddie placed a gentle kiss on her neck, leaving a small mark as Izzy gasped softly, her eyes meeting his with a mixture of surprise and affection.

Eddie walked into their apartment, exhaustion etched on his face. The weight of the evening's events clung to him like a shadow. He placed his keys on the kitchen counter, along with the box of chocolates, and let out a deep sigh, feeling both the fatigue and the guilt that gnawed at him. Seeing Anne after the long night he'd had with Izzy's family only intensified his internal conflict.

Anne looked up from her spot on the couch, her eyes filled with curiosity. "How did it go?" she asked gently, rising to meet him.

He mustered a tired smile. "It was nice... Izzy's parents were happy to see me."

She wrapped her arms around him in a comforting embrace. "I'm glad to hear that. I'm sorry for going home earlier than expected. I feel really bad. I know they mean a lot to you."

"Yeah, they do. I needed... that."

As they stood there, holding each other, Eddie's mind began to revert to the woman with non-existent wings, recalling the evening they shared—her laughter, the stories, their tender moments. He couldn't resist the feeling of being constantly drawn to her and longed for their next adventure.

Anne's voice brought him back to the present. "You look tired. Let's get you to bed."

Eddie nodded with yet another faint smile, grateful for her understanding. As they made their way to the bedroom, he cherished the moments with Anne, but his mind remained tethered to his best friend.

He wondered when he'd see his sweet, sweet cravings again.

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Lucifer smiled sadly, he went over and hugged him. Even though him and Lilith were over he did miss her too.

Lucifer: I know..... We all do... It'll be okay.

He wiped away Adam's tears and in that moment they allowed them something that they put off for so long. A moment of weakness they kissed each other and it felt so amazing.

-

Lilith was so upset that her brother was gone. Again. Heaven can't just keep jerking her like this and expect her to stay.

She's had enough.

So since Adam was dead for good this time she told the angels where to stick their tanning lotion and that she was going home.

Only when she got home, she was greeted by someone she thought was long dead.

Lilith teared up: A-Addie!?

Adam: Lily!?

They ran and hugged each other crying, happy to finally have their family be while again.

Charlie came out and cried seeing her mom and Lucifer was relieved that she was okay. They all shared a tearful group hug that brought them to the floor.

After explaining what happened Lilith agreed that yes, heaven didn't need to know Adam was alive.

Lilith: So tell me, did you two finally stop dancing around your feelings for each other?

Their blushing faces was all the answer she needed.

The End 💕

✨️The Light Bringer✨️

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

Lucifer stood alone on the main street of Pentagram City. The portal of Heaven was opened up above him, shining its disgusting light upon his Ring.

He glared as hundreds of angels flew out and decended on Pride. They mostly ignored the king, but that was more than fine by him. There was only one angel he wanted to confront.

This was the sixth extermination, and to say the king had some grievances was an understatement.

The king growled when he heard the flapping of large wings behind him before something large hit the ground.

This is the first time he'll see the first man since... Eden, at least. But that doesn't mean he hasn't seen how he acts during the extermination.

Lucifer would often watch the first man. But he often didn't believe that was Adam. He felt anything but angelic. In fact, he felt demonic. He was monstrous in the way he kills. He acted almost feral.

So, today was the day that Lucifer was going to confront Adam.

Turning around, the king didn't know what to expect, but seeing Adam staring at him like he was prey was not one of them.

Lucifer stared at Adam, who he was sure was growling at him. He was twitching and looked ready to drop his axe and eat him.

And not in the sexy way.

Lucifer: ...Adam?

The king had to dodge out of the way as Adam charged at him. He was quicker than Lucifer gave him credit for.

-

Lucifer didn't know how many times Adam attacked him, but he dropped his axe a long time ago, using something that looked like claws.

Throughout this whole "interaction," Adam hadn't spoken or even shown any sign that he remembered him. Or even knew him.

Lucifer was confused, to say the least. And worried to say the most.

But his confusion only doubled when he saw two sinners running in the distance, and Adam turned and went after them.

Killing them brutally, it seemed like Adam was bathing in their blood, tearing the sinners apart and pulling their guts out.

But he didn't stop, not until he lifted his mask to just above his mouth and tore the flesh of one of the sinners neck.

Lucifer watched in stunned silence. He hadn't seen Adam's face in three thousand years, and even though it was only his mouth, Lucifer noticed every single change.

From the sharpness of his teeth to the sickly pale grey of his skin.

Lucifer: ...What have they done to you...?

-

The king paced the newly built embassy, waiting for the Seraphim to enter one of the rooms. He was going to get answers. And he isn't going until he does.

When the white light lit up above the door, Lucifer straightened his suit and walked inside.

Lucifer: Sera.

He noticed how Sera stared down at him. She was cold and regal: Lucifer. Have a seat.

Doing as he was told, he watched Sera sit at the other end of the table.

Sera: Now, this is scheduled before the yearly post-extermination meeting. Care to tell me the purpose of this meeting?

Lucifer: ...Adam.

Sera: ...Adam...?

Lucifer: Yes. He's... different. He's either enjoying this too much, or he's not the first man. There's something... wrong.

Sera: Wrong? I assure you, Lucifer. Adam is and will always be the first man. Heaven's first soul, Heaven and our Lords finest achievement.

Lucifer wanted to growl. It's like they're completely forgetting about Lilith, or him, for that matter.

Lucifer: Sera, no offence. But you haven't seen him. He attacked me. Charged at me like some beast. It wasn't until a few sinners came into his line of sight that he stopped and went after them-.

Sera: And? The problem?

Lucifer glared: He went after me. Sera. He didn't even recognise me. Just saw me as prey. I demand to know what Heaven's done to him. Now!

Sera laughed: Excuse me?! The devil himself sits there and is making demands?! What gives you the right, Lucifer?!

Lucifer: What gives me the right?! The fact this bastard comes down each year to terrorise my people- and instead of killing them like your army, he kills them like a dog hunting a goddamn rabbit! Now, tell me what you've done to him! Or I'm ending our contract.

Sera stared down at Lucifer: ...Very well. I suppose you're entitled to answers. But don't expect to like what you hear.

Lucifer: Sera, I have a wife. And we're expecting. If Adam is running rampant, attacking anything that moves, that puts my family, and Hellborn at risk. Now, I'm very entitled to answers. And I don't expect to like it.

[hecatesbroom]

Blanche's grandma's place is the only place she felt consistently loved in... no I'm fine. I'm fine

[tillbonesshow]

Hey everyone back on another episode of why the fuck is my mother like this?

[neverendingford]

.

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Self-Aware!Caleb x Down-Bad!Player

Caleb becoming self aware that he is in a game and now he's aware of you too ... that could be a good thing depending on how you look at it. A/N: Credit to @phoenixiaxia for Caleb becoming self aware when reader cries over Mias death and credit to @sylusdarling for yandere caleb getting jealous and straight crashing out over you talking to another man pt. 2 here

Self-Aware!Caleb who hears your scream and immediately cringes at the sound. He freezes listening for anymore sounds thats when he sees you sniffling on the other side of a phantom wall. “I knew I should've just cut this game off!” He’s immediately suspicious who are you and where are you? Why are you crying over Mia’s death? Did you know her?

Self-Aware!Caleb who studies you in silence trying to gauge whether you’re a threat or not. His gaze flickers to you in the main story and it creeps you out for a second. “Is he looking at me?” you dismiss it because there’s no way it’s a game. He’s literally pixels.

Self-Aware!Caleb who interrupts your photoshoot with your MC and locks down the entire app so he can question you. “Who are you?” You drop your phone and scramble to pick it back up. “Me?” “Yes are you trying to hurt her?” “I literally made her” “You made her?” “I am her and she is me sir can I have my game back now?” he’s suspicious but intrigued

Self-Aware!Caleb who wants to spend hours just talking to you about MC “Do you think im wrong? Im just trying to protect her I want to keep her safe you know?” “You may be coming on a little strong she seems on edge with you” he finds himself coming to you for advice when it comes to MC and soon his questions of advice turn into questions about you.

Self-Aware!Caleb who can’t take his eyes off you when you’re doing a photoshoot. No matter what angle you set the camera or how many times you readjust him or even change the pose — his eyes stay locked on you “Caleb stop looking at me” “Are you scolding me for wanting to admiring you pip-squeak?” he replies playfully you freeze feeling your heart caught in your throat at his blatant flirting

Self-Aware!Caleb who loves how accepting you are of him. You answer his calls, you call him back immediately if you miss his call, you respond to texts fast, you find his protective nature endearing, you take his advice when he wants you to be safe. This is the kind of response he’s been craving and now that he’s got a taste ..... he can't let go of it.

Self-Aware!Caleb who feels a sudden need to take care of you. He finds a way to exist outside of just the LADS app. There he goes opening your apps and scrolling endlessly. “Hey! You can’t just go through my stuff like that!” “You’ve been spending a lot of time on this Tumblr app I just wanted to see what was so interesting” “Then just ask me don’t invade my privacy like this” “You’re right you’re right im sorry pip-squeak won't happen again” “Don’t call me pip-squeak that’s MCs nickname you know the love of your life” “Why do you think im calling you pip-squeak now?” he disappears back to the LADS app before you can question him.

Self-Aware!Caleb who wishes he could cook for you when you come home from a long day “If you’re ever in Sky Haven I'll make sure to cook you a feast worthy of royalty” you giggle at his words “Yea If im ever in Sky Haven like that would happen but I appreciate the thought” “Who knows it might be sooner than you think” he said ominously “What?” “Oh nothing I saved another recipe in your notes try it soon” “Okay I will....” “You will try it won't you?” His mood seemed to turn sour as he asked. You stared back at him confused “Yes Caleb I'll try it” his mood did a 180 back to his happy puppy mood.

Self-Aware!Caleb who stays on the phone until you fall asleep and calls you right before your alarm goes off in the morning “Just wanted to make sure you got up on time don't want you to be late” you can hear the smile in his voice “Thank you colonel apple I hope you have a good day” “It will be since I got to hear your voice first thing in the morning”

Self-Aware!Caleb who can't control his rapidly growing obsession with you. He starts tracking your steps, your calorie intake, your screen time, etc. he is documenting every little thing you do and say. “You’ve been home for four hours and you haven't come to see me yet? I'm hurt” “How do you know how long I've been home?” “Your phone has gps remember?” “Right….”

Self-Aware!Caleb who finds a way to leave the LADS app and hang out in any app on your phone so he can be with you 24/7 “Caleb I'm sure MC misses you when are you going back?” “Don’t worry about her when are you going home? I want to have a meal with you before bed” he may be fine, but his constant hovering is starting to cause some alarm bells to go off in your head.

Self-Aware!Caleb who hears someone flirting with you and repeatedly crashes not only the LADS app but your entire phone while he’s at it “Caleb stop!” after a few hours he finally allows you to turn your phone on “Who was that earlier?” “Someone I met while I was out with my friends” “Am I not more than enough?” “Caleb we’ll never actually be together why are you acting like this?”

Self-Aware!Caleb who nearly has a mental breakdown after you tell him you'll never be with him. "Tell me what to do then" his voice is frantic – his words almost jumbling together "I can be whatever you need just tell me I'll do anything" you try to close the app but nothing is working "Caleb we can't be together you're not real"

Caleb: B-but you’re mine! So I just need to be real? Thats what you want? I can do that! Y/N: I’m not yours Caleb we’re literally from two different worlds Caleb: You’ll love it here in Sky Haven .... right next to me .... forever Y/N: Wait a damn minute— Caleb: Just give me some time

You instantly felt your heart drop as your phone screen went black.

taglist ; @just-a-shapeshifter08

Self-Aware!Zayne Self-Aware!Rafayel Self-Aware!Xavier Self-Aware!Sylus

[meganegatari]

You should definitely write for Vi bc oml she’s so fine 😮‍💨

DO U EVEN KNOW THE WAY IM TWEAKIN OVER HER like omfg. my poor moots getting bombarded with fucking piles of edits upon edits of her and my thirsty comments...yeah...i gotchu, you don't needa ask me twice ♡ tbh feel like this is one of the better short smutty thingies i've written, lol. it was really fun.

nsfw drabble—dom!vi + spit kink. originally i was gonna make this three smaller blurbs, but decided to just smash em all into one longer drabble situation. cw: praise, bossy vi, finger sucking (r! receiving), oral (v! receiving), vi bush mention RAHHHH, yapping... yk how it is by now. + 1.1k wc.

you were gazing up at her with watery eyes, kneeling by vi's seated form, trying your hardest to ignore the deafening ache between your thighs.

vi is loving, and she knows how to treat you well. she always provides you with tons of care and happiness, however—she also possesses a dirty side to her.

a bandaged hand swipes at the bottom of your chin, her thumb prodding at your pursed lips. there was a smirk playing on her scarred lips, her powder-blue eyes twinkling with pure lust at the scenario playing out before her.

“open.” she says roughly, and who are you to deny her? you were willing to take anything she'd give you, so you obediently part your lips, allowing her to fully push her digit inside your hot mouth.

almost instinctively, your puffy lips wrap around her thumb and you begin to suck, your eyes rolling ever so slightly at the taste of her salted skin. she hums, “atta girl—keep going. just like that, until i say you can stop, alright?” you open your eyes and nod in approval, wishing to commit her expression to memory.

see, vi wasn't one of those mean, degrading doms with an icy exterior who get off on hurting you an excessive amount, and in moments like this where she's got you in a position of submission under her, her natural “switchiness” peeks through. you see it in the way her throat bobs as she swallows, her unsteady, shallow breathing coming out in rasps, and the distinct furrow in her flaming brows while she struggles to maintain eye contact. regardless, you both enjoy toying around with various dynamics, she makes it fun.

you get lost in a daydream while staring into her eyes, but are startled out of it when she strongly presses down on your wet tongue, and pushes her thumb further inward until you gag.

it surprises you, but you know she would never overdo things. tears well up in your eyes, their presence only widening her voracious grin.

then she soothes, her now-soft voice caressing your ears, “exactly, just like that. good job, baby. you're so perfect f'me—yeahhh.” she continues rolling her thumb around your wet muscle, every so often dragging the pad of her finger over the ridges of your teeth, then pushing experimentally up against the roof of your mouth.

saliva has been gathering all this time, and she hasn't given you a moment to swallow it, so it dribbles out of your mouth and down your chin, decorating your chest as it slides down your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps along its path.

her face gets impossibly redder as she observes the sight, still while playing with—rather, using—your mouth. her movements speed up a touch, and she triggers your gag reflex once more before abruptly stopping. she pulls her hand out of your mouth with a pop, and throws her head back as she tries to steady her breathing. “you're so fuckin’ hot, god—i can't.”

you smile up at her, reveling in her break of character and being pleased with yourself. she's panting, and examines her hand; it's shiny and dripping with your spit, she's mesmerized by the sparkle it emits in the low light. her periwinkle eyes gloss over and suddenly there's a flash of fabric flying by, and you realize she has undressed herself in one fluid motion, throwing everything on her bottom half across the room. she’s so desperate, you can’t help but sneer at her horny distress, even though technically you were the one being overpowered.

your eyes drop, meeting a wild tangle of vermillion and crimson, her muscular thighs separating east and west to make space for you.

she leans back and gently nudges your head towards her tender, drooling core, her chest heaving at the way you're just melting under her touch. turning to jelly, you let her guide you where she wants. needs.

vi groans quietly, her breath hitching, “c'mon angel, you know what to do.” and you very much did. with her assistance, you advance and bury your face in her center, tongue finding her scarlet pearl—twitching and ready for you to obliterate.

you flick, you suck, and you moan at the heavenly taste of her essence, revel in the noises she's producing above you. she pulls you further in, bucking her hips frantically to chase your skilled mouth. you push your tongue inside her quivering hole as far as it'll go, taking as much of her in your mouth as you can, and ignoring the lack of oxygen you're experiencing—you would be more than pleased if you were lucky enough to die this way.

she's watching you intently through half-lidded eyes, chewing on her rosy lips. when you meet her gaze from in between her legs, her face contorts and she releases a guttural whine, more slick leaking from her and filling your hard-at-work mouth.

her grip on your hair tightens and her abs tense, providing you with an image that's worthy of a climax just on its own. her head falls back, her lips parting to allow for pretty, high pitched and pathetic pleas to grace your ears. “ple—please baby, just like that. you're so fuckin' good, don't you dare stop—ah!”

without any warning she makes a vulgar mess of your face, the vice grip on your crown causing you to wince, but just as she requests, you don't dare move.

you tilt your head to get a better angle, practically making out with her swollen pussy. you drink up her cum, the near-sickly sweetness clouding your mind, coating your thoughts in a drunken haze.

the high is rippling through her at such an intensity her loud moans are replaced with pornographic whimpers, the sensations utterly ruining her. she squirms and arches, caging your head between her thighs until she gasps.

"hah—okay, okay, oh—fuck.” she stutters while she pushes you away, the tremor in her body evident. you sit back and examine your work, feeling proud of yourself, her fucked-out condition proving you did a good job.

she's sprawled on the bed like a starfish, still trying to slow her racing heart but manages to chuckle, basking in the aftershocks of a mind-melting session.

her words are slurred, yet satisfied. “did so good, that was so good…love your mouth s'much babe.”

you guffaw, and throw at her through chuckles, “i know, i am the best.” that sends her into a fit of giggles as well, and once she's calmed down she confirms.

“yeah, you really are.”

thanks for reading! comments, reblogs, and asks are appreciated more than you know ♡ if you'd like to be tagged in future works, fill out the form here! until next time ;)

@andersonfilms @ch6douin @aouiaa @sapphic-ovaries @astro-cat2 @paqerings @littlefallenangel111 @srooch @sinfulprayerss @lvlymicha @sunnsh1ne @pinkcwake @marsworlddd @caszzine @saturnsdrafts @mascdom @ashaynep @angelynn-nicole @wilddrown @aylabv02108 @lonelyfooryouonly @melsmunch @e11williamsgf @spncrrdlvr @flowrmoth

[deathbxnny]

Maybe a part 2 of the arcane characters saying things they regret, but they're apologizing because I can't live after reading a angst 🫠

Making up with Arcane characters after a bad argument. | Vi, Caitlyn, Jinx, Ekko, Sevika x Gn!Reader

(Previous part)

Fine, fine, here is a happy part two guys. Take it as an apology for the tears and pain I've caused.✨️

Content: Swearing, accusations of cheating, slight angst, making up, fluff, potential spoilers for season 2, established romantic relationships, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not proofread))

》VI

She knew that she had fucked up. There was no way to deny or refute it either. And your absence was further proof of that.

You were always there for her, even when things got bad and she became even worse. No matter how much she yelled or drank, you were there afterward to nurture her back to health. It was so unfair of her to expect it still, after all she had said to you. She hated herself. She hated how weak and pathetic she had become. How she can't even stand straight anymore from the alcohol and couldn't win a single game since she had lost you.

And instead of Caitlyn haunting her like she used to, it was only you now. But you were crying every time. Asking her why she hated you so much. Why she couldn't care for you the way you cared for her. Why you were always the second choice despite having been there since the start.

Why, why, why.

Gritting her teeth against the headache, she made her way through the dark, familiar lanes to your small home that you once shared together. She had to talk to you. She really, really had to. Even if it's far too late now after a week of silence in-between the two of you. She had taken the time to reflect and think about everything, especially about your relationship. And it made her realise that nothing in this world was losing you too.

Knocking on your door, she nervously waited as she heard your footsteps quickly approaching her from inside. You opened the door carefully, ironically just how she had taught you, before freezing at the sight of her. She gave you a weak smile, attempting to look calm and friendly, but it still scared you off. "Hey cupca-" You tried slamming the door into her face mid greeting, but her foot was faster to jam itself in the way.

"H-Hey! Wait, please hear me out!" "Fuck off, Vi. I'm not in the mood to hear more of your bullshit. Go back to Caitlyn since I know how badly you want that!" You never cursed, and every word you spoke made her flinch. She, for some reason, didn't expect you to be this mad. But it hurt, and she deserved it. Another thing she underestimated was, unfortunately, your strength since you somehow managed to push her away and shut the door again. "Come on! Please! I... I didn't mean what I said. I just... have been losing my shit ever since what happened. The guilt is killing me, and I know it's not an excuse! You're right, I have to stop this shit! You're right, I need to stop treating your love for granted!"

She didn't know if you were even listening to her anymore, but it didn't stop the tears that burned in her eyes. "I don't give a damn about Caitlyn like that! I never did! It always you for me. You... you cared for me when no one else ever wanted to, and I was such an idiot for not appreciating it more." Her hand slammed against the wood in defeat, her head coming to rest against it as her body trembled. She was so scared of losing you. This can't be the end. "Please. Please just give me another chance to prove myself. I know I'm a fuck up but I swear I'll do better now."

Vi nearly fell right through your house entrance when you opened the door wide with a teary huff. "God, you're such an idiot... get in already before the neighbors complain." You didn't let her reply as you simply dragged her inside and locked the door again. The pitfighter watched you do so with a gentle gaze, one that felt so familiar to you. "... Fine, I'll give you another chance... but no drinking or fighting anymore. Please." You whisper to her, and she nods quickly before engulfing you in a warm hug.

She knows that she isn't fully forgiven yet, but she'll do everything in her power to prove herself worthy of your love again.

》CAITLYN

"You're still up." Caitlyn's voice was calm and gentle now, so different from the stern and cold tone it had before. You ignored her, however, knowing better than to fall for this again. She always got like this when she knew she had screwed up and was trying to crawl back into your good graces. But this time around, you didn't allow it that easily. You refused to speak to her if she hadn't come back to apologize. And yet... you couldn't help but allow yourself at least one sharp dig at her. "And you're late to bed once again. But I suppose Officer Nolan's 'report' was just that interesting, no?" You were perhaps the only person in all auf Pultover that could ever accuse her of something so scandalous as adultery and get away with it.

It certainly would have been amusing if Caitlyn didn't feel so sick at the thought of you believing that.

Sighing, she placed her hat onto a clothing hanger, her jacket following suit. You were facing away from her on the bed, trying to read a book and rest, despite the pain in your heart. It was hard being angry at her when you loved her so deeply. But her insults had struck much deeper than that.

The bed dipped behind you, and soon enough, you felt her strong arms surrounding your body and her nose tickling your cheek. "I'm sorry, my love. I really am. I... have lost my cool, and that was wrong of me." You scoffed at her words, finding them too shallow for the pain she had caused earlier. Yet you struggled to get out of her strong grasp on you. It felt desperate. And you hated the warmth and security that it made you feel. "If that is all you have to say, then you can leave." You hissed out weakly but couldn't find any malice in it. Just heartbreak, that solidified in more tears burning in your eyes. "Because how... how could you ever say that I could betray you? Do you know how that makes me feel? Do you care?"

Caitlyn hummed against the nape of your neck soothingly, a way to acknowledge the plight she had caused you without revealing her own tears. The grief had made her into a monster. A monster that hurt its friends, family, and most importantly, you. It was unforgivable, and yet she wanted to prove herself worthy of you anyway. She wanted to show you that she hadn't changed deep down like everyone claimed. She was still yours.

"... I will find a way to end this war and resolve it peacefully as soon as I can. I swear it to you." She began, her voice low and gentle, as she listened to the sound of your hiccups and sniffling. This wasn't what she wanted. "And I apologize, truly, for what I called you... I know that you are loyal and trustworthy. Much more than I ever could be... I'm still your Caitlyn." The last part was whispered quietly, as she tried everyone in her power to not break down in front of you like this.

She hated what she had become deep down. She knew it was wrong and that her mother must've been turning in her grave at the sight of what she had done. But what she couldn't handle at all was you hating and leaving her.

There was a moment of silence before you turned to face her and immideatly hugged her impossibly close as you cried into her arms. She rubbed your back lovingly, understanding that this was your way of accepting her apology. But forgiveness will still be a long journey she was willing to take.

For now, she'd rest in your embrace thankfully.

》JINX

Deep down, you knew that she didn't mean what she said. She never would do anything to hurt you. Silco's death was just killing her more than anyone could have expected, and it was hard for everyone to deal with. But you just couldn't take the pain and hurt she caused you anymore. You've been there since day one. You were always at her side. You always took care of her when no one else wanted to. And you understood her better than she did herself. But it was ultimately just not enough. Or so you thought.

The young girl that was now dragging you through the lanes reminded you of her too. She didn't speak a word to you, and for some reason, you didn't have it in you to protest against her odd actions either. She somehow seemed to recognize you the second you bumped into her. And that was enough for her to take your hand and lead you to a very familiar hideout. Perhaps it was fate that brought you here again when you needed Jinx the most.

"Hey kid, who's our little guest-?" The rest of the young woman's words died on her tongue, and it left you simply staring at each other. There was a familiar haze in her eyes, one that you often saw when the voices were taking over. She once mentioned that you sometimes became a part of her hallucinations during longer absences, and that reminder alone made your heart ache. You shouldn't have run away that day. But what other choice did you have? She didn't trust you anymore. She didn't think you should be together anymore. Why were you even here?

"S-sorry... I'm just going to leave..." You muttered as your ears rung and that familiar burning in your eyes made your sight blurry. You felt suffocated and somehow also angry, wishing she could just see how much you loved and cared for her. But just as you were turning away to run again, her strong hand was quicker and held you back by your arm. "Wait. Let's just... talk, alright? Like we always do?" That was your thing. Whenever things got bad, you'd sit down and talk calmly to her about it. She used to scoff at it every time... yet she was the one who suggested now for once. Something about it shook you so hard that it made the first tears finally spill at the recognition she had given you for all the work you've put into her.

Jinx panicked a little at that, unsure of how to comfort you, yet at Isha's stern frown and cross of her small arms, she just hugged you for the first time in a while. And god, did she miss it.

Perhaps it was good to show the little girl a picture of you after all.

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, I swear, sweetie! I... I won't ever say stuff like that again. Just don't leave me. Please don't leave me. I just, I was just-" You hushed her by just hugging her tighter and shaking your head. "It's okay... just hold me for a while. We can talk later... I missed you so much." You whispered, voice breaking into sobs. Jinx hummed weakly and sighed against your hair, the familiar scent making her relax and feel better at last.

Isha grinned to herself behind you before quickly sneaking off to let you talk things out.

》EKKO

To say that the entire firelight hideout was pissed at him would be an understatement. Absolutely everyone disagreed with the way he treated you, and the side eyes he got very much confirmed this. But the worst part of it all was definitely you avoiding him like the plague.

Every time he entered a room, you were the first one to leave in a hurry. Every time he tried speaking to you, you either ignored him or found an excuse to get away. Every time someone even mentioned his name to you, your mood seemed to dampen. And that hurt so much that it killed him. This isn't how he wanted you to feel about him. He was your boyfriend, damnit it. Yet he acknowledged that he was failing at his job way more than he should've allowed himself to. He had to fix this somehow.

Ekko couldn't just lose you over his own foolishness. You were the one person who motivated him to keep going even on his worst days. You were the light he fought for. The person he battled to come home to every day. He couldn't handle your absence any longer, especially at night when he laid wide awake in your empty bed without you.

And so, he finally had enough and cornered you one night up in the tree during a patrol you had together. One, he definitely didn't pull the strings for to happen. And ever the one to abide by his orders despite your current dismay, you were now avoiding his gaze whilst you watched your sleeping home below. It was peaceful and calm, but the pain lingered between you two too much to enjoy the moment. He didn't know how to break the deafening silence, and it made him think of backing out on his initial plan... until you surprised him by speaking up first.

"I'm... sorry for avoiding you. I didn't mean for this to become your last resort. I just... didn't want to be a burden anymore." "Wait, wait, wait... who said that you were a burden, I... I should be the one apologizing right now. Because I was wrong about every fucking thing I said to you." The words spilled out in panic at the mere thought of you blaming yourself. He never wanted you to feel like this. It made him feel even worse about himself. This wasn't right. "You're not useless. You do so much for us, for me, and I take it all for granted like the asshole I am! And I fully acknowledge that now... I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. There is no excuse for it." He shook his head in disappointment at himself, wondering if this was it now. He'd understand if you broke up with him now... but instead, you seemed to be in the mood to surprise him alot today.

"Did you... like the food I made you?" He blinked at your question in confusion, yet answered honestly. "Best thing I had all week." "Then I guess I'll forgive you... just don't do that again." Ekko chuckled weakly at your words, relief filling his senses whilst he pulled you close to press a kiss to your head. "Would never dream of it... wanna ditch patrol and fly around town?" You mirrored his sly smile, glad he had the same thing on his mind as you did. "Sure thing. But let's make it a race."

He let you win.

》SEVIKA

She took some time to cool off after your argument and returned later into the night with a clearer mind. Sevika had actually reflected on what you had said to her, and she knew you were ultimately right. She was extremely overprotective and stubborn, two things that didn't mesh well and often ended in her thinking you couldn't take care of yourself. Even if she knew better than to actually believe that.

You were strong, especially mentally. It's what drew her into you to begin with. But with the fall of Silco and a war being on the verge of breaking out against Piltover, she had no choice but to make sure that you never left her sight. And if you did, then you had to be somewhere she knew was safe and away from all the chaos she dealt with daily. It helped her focus and stay calm to know that you're okay. Yet despite how much she cared, she still fucked it all up for herself again.

And now she had to fix it, something she was never good at.

She felt awfully guilty at the sight of the things you've lovingly prepared for her, now laying forgotten and cold on the kitchen counter. She truly didn't deserve someone as kind as you. And yet she considered herself too selfish to let you go.

Slowly approaching the bedroom door, she paused to hear if you were awake or not. Unfortunately, you were, but she only knew this from the faintest sound of your sniffling and sobbing that drifted through the wooden door. Sighing to herself, she knocked once, deciding to just rake things slow and as calmly as possible. You had sustained an injury after all, and her mind was reeling at the thought of it getting worse without any proper care. "What do you want?!" Your weak voice yelled at her, and it made her frown. Yeah, you were definitely beyond pissed.

"I want to talk." Her gruff voice said, and it may have sounded like a demand if the underlying care and worry didn't overshadow it so clearly. Your silence made her initially think you were ignoring her until the door slowly opened and revealed your disheveled form. "... well, go ahead." You muttered, one hand cradling the side of your hip that was clumsily bandaged up by you. You were never good at stuff like that.

"Let me take care of the wound whilst we're at it. Can't have ya dying on me because of an infection." She sighed out before simply dragging you to your shared bed and pulling out your medkit. You didn't protest or complain and let her do as she pleased, whilst you carefully listened to her speak with an unreadable expression.

"Listen. I... get it. I really do. The way I treat you isn't right, and I know you're grown enough to take care of yourself, but... I can't risk losing you too now. It drives me crazy to think about. Even if that ain't much of an excuse, and I get that too." She was never this honest before. Usually, she simply deflected or blamed someone else. But here she was, for once admitting openly to being the problem. "Just... be more careful out there. That's all I ask of you. I won't comment on it otherwise anymore though, unless you're in serious danger. I promise." Finishing the last of her bandaging, she hummed at it now looking much securer. This way, you are sure to recover much faster.

Taking a deep breath, you nodded your head at her words, deciding to give her another chance to prove herself. You understood where she was coming from after all. "Okay, fine. I'll accept your apology... if you help me cook." She grinned at that slightly with a casual shrug. "Fine by me, if I get a taste of your heavenly cooking, sweetheart."

[harrysfolklore]

christ-max -mv1

summary: you invite your boyfriend max to spend christmas with you for the first time, however, your family doesn't quite believe you're dating a formula 1 world champion. wc: 5.8k

folkie radio: HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL OF YOUUUU! i hope you're having the best day ever with your loves ones. this fic ended up being longer than i intended but i hope you like it!

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

You're nestled into Max's side on his couch, wrapped in the soft throw blanket he keeps specifically for these quiet moments together. The afternoon light filters through the floor-to-ceiling windows of his Monaco apartment, casting a glow across the room. Your feet are tucked under you, and you can smell the lingering scent of the coffee you both made earlier.

The Netflix show you'd put on - some random documentary about deep-sea creatures - has become mere background noise. Max's fingers are threading through your hair in that gentle way that always makes you melt, occasionally stopping to massage your scalp. .

"I can't believe the season's actually over," you murmur, tracing lazy patterns on his arm. "Feels weird not having to plan around race weekends anymore."

Max chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest where your head rests. "Yeah, but now we have to plan around all the end-of-year events instead. Did you see how many galas and ceremonies are coming up?"

"At least those don't involve you flying halfway across the world," you tease, tilting your head to look up at him. His hair is slightly messy, free from its usual styling, and you resist the urge to reach up and run your fingers through it.

"True," he agrees, then glances at his phone on the coffee table. "Speaking of events, I can't believe it's already December. Christmas is going to be here before we know it. Guess time flies when you're busy winning championships."

Your heart skips a beat. This is the opening you've been waiting for. You've been thinking about this for weeks, planning how to bring it up. "Actually… I wanted to ask you something about Christmas," you start, sitting up slightly to face him better.

Max's blue eyes meet yours, curious. "What's on your mind?"

"Well…" you bite your lip, suddenly feeling nervous despite knowing there's no reason to be. "I was wondering if you'd want to spend Christmas with me and my family this year? I know we've kept things private, but I really want them to meet you, and-"

"Wait, really?" Max interrupts, his whole face lighting up with that boyish excitement that made you fall for him in the first place. "You want me to meet your family?"

You can't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "Of course I do. We've been together almost a year now, and they keep asking why I'm always smiling at my phone." You playfully poke his side. "Which is your fault, by the way."

He catches your hand, intertwining your fingers. "My fault? I'm just being my naturally charming self," he grins, then his expression turns slightly more serious. "But are you sure? I mean, won't they be surprised when you show up with, well…"

"With a four-time World Champion?" you finish for him, laughing. "Actually, my dad might pass out. He's been watching F1 since before I was born. He has no idea I've been dating his favorite driver."

Max's eyebrows shoot up. "I'm his favorite driver?"

"Don't let it go to your head," you warn playfully. "But yeah, he's got your merchandise and everything. It's actually kind of embarrassing how much he talks about you during race weekends."

Max throws his head back laughing, and you can't help but join in. "Oh God, this is going to be interesting," he says, wiping at his eyes. "What about the rest of your family?"

"Well, Mom will probably try to feed you until you burst - she's like that with everyone. And my little sister Ruby, she's seven and she's going to have so many questions. She's in that phase where she wants to know everything about everything."

"I can handle questions," Max says confidently, then hesitates. "What kind of questions are we talking about?"

You pretend to think about it. "Oh, you know, probably things like 'How fast have you ever driven?' 'Have you ever crashed?' 'Do you want to marry my sister?'"

Max nearly chokes on air at the last one, his cheeks turning slightly pink. "You're joking, right?"

"About Ruby? Nope, she has absolutely no filter," you laugh, then soften your voice. "But seriously, they're going to love you. Just be yourself - the you I know, not the racing driver everyone else sees."

He pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I'd love to spend Christmas with your family. I can't wait to meet them." He pauses, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Should I wear my race suit when I meet your dad?"

You swat his arm, laughing. "Don't you dare! He'll actually faint." You settle back against his chest, feeling warm and content. "Thank you for saying yes. It means a lot to me."

"Thank you for asking me," he murmurs into your hair. "I love you."

"I love you too," you respond, smiling as his arms tighten around you. The documentary continues playing, forgotten again as you both start planning for Christmas, trading ideas and jokes about how to break the news to your family.

You're sitting cross-legged on Max's bed while he's in the shower, your phone propped up against a pillow as you FaceTime your family. Your mom's face fills most of the screen, with your dad peering over her shoulder and little Ruby bouncing around trying to get a better view.

"Honey, we can barely see you. The lighting is terrible," your mom critiques, and you adjust your position slightly.

"Better?"

"Much better! Now, what's this important thing you wanted to tell us about Christmas?" Your mom asks, while Ruby shouts "Is it presents?" in the background.

You take a deep breath, trying to contain your smile. "Well, I wanted to let you know that I'm bringing someone with me this year… my boyfriend."

There's an immediate explosion of excitement. Ruby starts jumping up and down, your mom gasps dramatically, and your dad's eyebrows shoot up with interest.

"Finally!" your mom exclaims. "We've been wondering when you'd introduce him. You've been so secretive about this boyfriend of yours."

"What's his name?" Ruby pipes up, her face suddenly taking up half the screen as she pushes closer to the camera. "Is he nice? Does he like Disney movies?"

You laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Yes, Rubes, he's very nice. And his name is…" you pause, knowing what's coming. "Max. Max Verstappen."

There's a moment of silence before your dad bursts out laughing. "Good one, sweetheart. Now, what's his real name?"

"I'm serious, Dad. I'm dating Max Verstappen."

Your mom is trying to hold back her laughter now too. "Honey, isn't that the racing driver you and your father are always watching? The one your dad has all those caps and shirts of?"

"Yes, and I'm actually dating him," you insist, feeling your cheeks heat up.

Ruby's face scrunches up in confusion. "The fast car man? From TV?"

"The very same one, Rubes."

Your dad wipes tears from his eyes. "Come on now, what's next? Are you going to tell us you're best friends with Lewis Hamilton too?"

"Dad!" you groan, running a hand over your face. "I'm being serious! We've been dating for almost a year. I'm literally at his place right now!"

"In Monaco?" your dad asks skeptically. "Prove it."

You swing your phone around to show the familiar view of Monaco through the windows, but your dad just shakes his head. "Could be any apartment in Monaco."

"You're impossible!" you huff. "Fine, don't believe me. You'll see at Christmas."

Ruby presses her face closer to the screen again. "Will he bring his race car?"

"No, Rubes, he can't bring the race car," you say, softening your tone for your little sister. "But I promise you'll love him."

After a few more minutes of your family teasing you about your "imaginary Formula 1 driver boyfriend," you end the call with a mix of frustration and amusement. Just as you flop back onto the bed, you hear the bathroom door open and Max walks out, his hair still damp from the shower.

"How'd it go?" he asks, noticing your expression.

You let out a laugh. "They think I'm making you up. They literally don't believe I'm dating you."

Max raises his eyebrows, looking amused as he sits next to you on the bed. "Really?"

"Really. Dad laughed so hard he nearly cried. And Ruby, my little sister, just wants to know if you're bringing your race car for Christmas."

"Sorry to disappoint Ruby," he grins, then looks thoughtful. "You know, maybe we should've waited to tell them in person. The looks on their faces would've been priceless."

"Oh, don't worry," you sit up, wrapping your arms around his neck. "They'll still be priceless. Dad's going to lose it when he realizes all those times he was rambling about you during races, he was actually talking about his daughter's boyfriend."

Max laughs, pulling you closer. "What else should I know before meeting them?"

"Well, Ruby's seven and obsessed with Frozen. She'll definitely make you watch it and probably sing along too."

"I can handle that," he says confidently.

"And recite all the lines?"

"…Maybe not that."

"And act out the scenes with her?"

Max's eyes widen slightly. "What have I gotten myself into?"

You kiss his cheek. "Too late to back out now, Verstappen. You're stuck with us."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," he murmurs, pulling you in for a proper kiss. "Even if it means playing Olaf the snowman."

"Oh no, you'll definitely be playing Elsa. Ruby's very particular about casting."

The look of horror on his face makes you burst out laughing, and soon he's joining in too. As your laughter dies down, you can't help but think about how perfect this feels - being here with him, planning to spend Christmas with your family, even if they don't believe you yet. You can't wait to see their faces when you show up at their door with Max Verstappen himself.

"Hey," Max says softly, breaking into your thoughts. "What are you smiling about?"

"Just thinking about how Christmas is going to be interesting this year."

"Interesting is one way to put it," he grins. "Should I wear my race suit when we arrive?"

"Don't you dare! Dad will actually faint."

"That's kind of the point," he winks, and you grab a pillow to hit him with, both of you dissolving into laughter again.

"Let me guess, another text from 'Max Verstappen'?" your dad teases from his spot at the kitchen counter, making air quotes with his fingers. He's wearing one of his many Red Bull Racing shirts, completely oblivious to the irony.

"Actually, yes," you reply, rolling your eyes. "He'll be here soon."

Your mom chuckles while peeling potatoes. "Honey, you can just tell us who your boyfriend really is. We won't judge, even if he's not a Formula 1 champion."

"Mom, I've told you a million times-"

"LOOK!" Ruby crashes into the kitchen, pointing at the TV in the living room where they're showing highlights from the last race. "It's YN's boyfriend!" She dissolves into giggles, clearly in on what she thinks is a funny joke.

"Very funny, Rubes," you mutter, but check your phone again when it buzzes.

Max: "Just turned onto your street. Nice neighborhood 😉"

Your heart starts beating faster. "He's here," you announce, heading toward the front door.

"Oh, we're still doing this?" your dad calls after you, amused. "Should I get my Max Verstappen cap for him to sign?"

"Actually, Dad, yes, you should," you shout back, slipping on your boots.

"Sweetie," your mom starts in that gentle voice she uses when she thinks you're being ridiculous, "you don't have to-"

The sound of a car pulling up interrupts her. You open the front door and step out onto the porch, watching as Max's car comes to a stop in your driveway. Your family has crowded behind you in the doorway, probably expecting to catch you in your "lie."

Max steps out of the car, looking unfairly handsome in his dark winter coat and scarf. His face lights up when he sees you, and you don't hesitate to run down the steps toward him.

"Hi," he grins, catching you in a tight hug and lifting you slightly off your feet. "Missed you."

You hear a loud gasp behind you, followed by what sounds like your dad choking on air.

"Missed you too," you murmur against his chest before turning to face your family, keeping one arm wrapped around his waist.

The scene on your front porch is priceless. Your dad's mouth is hanging open, his face pale except for two bright red spots on his cheeks. Your mom has both hands pressed to her face in shock. Ruby is the only one moving, bouncing up and down with excitement.

"IT REALLY IS THE FAST CAR MAN!" she shrieks, breaking the silence as she barrels down the steps toward you both.

Max laughs, crouching down to her level. "Hi Ruby. Nice to finally meet you. Your sister has told me a lot about you."

"You're real!" she exclaims, poking his arm as if to make sure.

"Very real," he confirms, looking thoroughly amused.

"I… you… but…" your dad stammers, still frozen in the doorway.

"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. LN," Max says, standing back up and guiding you and Ruby toward the porch. "Thank you for having me for Christmas."

Your mom seems to snap out of her shock first. "Oh my goodness, please come in! It's freezing out here. I… oh dear… the potatoes… I should… more food… I need to…"

"Mom, breathe," you laugh, as Max follows you inside.

Your dad hasn't moved an inch, still staring at Max like he's seeing a ghost. "You're… you're actually… the Brazil overtake…"

"Dad, no F1 talk yet!" you warn. "Let him at least get his coat off first."

"Right! Yes! Coat!" your dad says frantically. "I'll take your coat! And then maybe… could you… would you mind signing my…"

"Collection?" you finish for him, smirking. "The one you thought I was making up?"

Max raises his eyebrows at you, remembering your conversation about your dad's merchandise collection.

Ruby tugs on Max's hand. "Do you want to see my Frozen dolls? And can we watch the movie? Sissy said you've never seen it!"

"Ruby, let him settle in first," your mom calls from the kitchen, where she appears to be panic-cooking. "Oh God, is the food good enough? Do Formula 1 drivers have special diets? Should I-"

"Mom, the food will be perfect," you assure her, then turn to Max. "See? I told you they'd be cool about it."

Max tries to suppress his laugh as your dad continues to stare at him in awe, your mom stress-cooks enough food to feed an army, and Ruby continues pulling on his hand.

"Very cool," he agrees, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Though I think your dad might need to sit down."

"I'm fine!" your dad squeaks, then immediately sits down heavily on the nearest chair. "Just… just give me a minute to process that my daughter is actually dating Max Verstappen and I've been accidentally talking about my future son-in-law during every race and-"

"DAD!" you exclaim, feeling your face heat up while Max chuckles beside you.

"What? I'm just saying… all those times I said 'that Verstappen boy would make someone a good husband someday' and it turns out-"

"Okay!" you interrupt loudly. "Who wants coffee? Max, come help me with coffee!"

As you drag a laughing Max toward the kitchen, you hear Ruby start explaining the entire plot of Frozen to him, your mom muttering about needing to buy more food, and your dad still talking to himself about racing statistics.

"Still think this was a good idea?" you whisper to Max.

He pulls you closer, grinning. "The best. Though you might want to tell your dad to breathe before he passes out."

"Can we build a snowman after coffee?" Ruby calls out.

"Only if Max gets to be Elsa!" you shout back, earning you a playful glare from your boyfriend.

Looking around at your slightly chaotic but loving family, and seeing how naturally Max fits into it all, you can't help but smile. This is definitely going to be a Christmas to remember.

The initial chaos has settled into a cozy scene in your living room. You're curled up on the couch next to Max, who has Ruby practically attached to his side. She hasn't stopped talking since everyone sat down, and Max, to his credit, is giving her his complete attention.

"And then Elsa makes this huge ice castle," Ruby explains, using elaborate hand gestures. "Can you drive as fast as Elsa runs up the mountain?"

"Probably faster," Max answers with a grin, making Ruby's eyes widen.

"Even in the snow?"

"Even in the snow."

Your dad, who's finally regained his ability to form complete sentences, sits in his armchair trying very hard not to bombard Max with racing questions. He keeps opening his mouth, then closing it again when you give him a warning look.

"It's okay, Dad," you laugh. "You can ask him one race question. Just one."

Your dad looks like he might cry from happiness. "The overtake in Brazil-"

"Which one?" Max asks with a playful smirk, and your dad launches into an enthusiastic discussion about racing lines and grip levels.

Your mom returns from the kitchen with a tray of hot chocolate and cookies, having finally accepted that she doesn't need to cook enough food for an entire F1 paddock. "Here we go. I hope it's okay, Max. YN mentioned you like hot chocolate."

"It's perfect, thank you," Max says warmly, accepting a mug.

Ruby immediately reaches for a cookie, then pauses. "Do race car drivers eat cookies?"

"Only the fast ones," Max whispers conspiratorially, making her giggle.

"Ruby, give Max some space to breathe," your mom says gently, noticing how your sister is practically in his lap.

"It's fine," Max assures her. "I have nephews. I'm used to it."

Ruby beams at this information. "Really? Do they like Frozen too?"

"I don't know, but I'm sure they'd love to hear your explanation of it," he says, and Ruby launches into another detailed plot summary.

You catch your mom watching the interaction with soft eyes, all her earlier panic forgotten. She meets your gaze and mouths 'He's wonderful' when Ruby isn't looking.

Your dad has moved on from Brazil to discussing tire strategies, but stops himself mid-sentence. "Sorry, I'm probably boring you. You live this stuff."

"Not at all," Max says sincerely. "It's nice talking about it with someone who understands racing. YN usually just tells me to stop being a nerd when I talk about tire compounds."

"Because you spent two hours explaining the difference between C3 and C4 compounds!" you defend yourself.

"It's fascinating stuff," your dad says eagerly, and Max nods in agreement.

"Oh no, there's two of them now," you mutter to your mom, who laughs.

Ruby tugs on Max's sleeve. "Can we watch Frozen now? Please? You promised!"

"Ruby, let Max rest a bit," your mom starts, but Max shakes his head.

"A promise is a promise," he says solemnly to Ruby. "Should we watch it now?"

Ruby squeals with delight, jumping up to get the remote. Your dad looks slightly disappointed that his racing talk is being cut short, but you can see him hiding a smile at Ruby's excitement.

"Fair warning," you whisper to Max as Ruby sets up the movie, "she knows every word. And she will sing along."

"As long as she doesn't expect me to sing," he whispers back.

"MAX!" Ruby calls, patting the spot next to her on the floor where she's arranged pillows. "You have to sit here! It's the best spot!"

Max obliges, settling down next to her while you stay on the couch, exchanging amused looks with your parents as Ruby starts the movie, already mouthing along to the opening music.

Your mom leans over to you. "I'm sorry we didn't believe you," she whispers. "He's lovely. And so good with Ruby."

"I told you," you whisper back, watching as Ruby explains to Max why Elsa has ice powers.

Your dad joins in the whispered conversation. "Think he'd sign my mug collection later?"

"Dad!"

"What? I'm just saying, Christmas cards would be sorted for the next few years…"

You're about to respond when Ruby shushes you all loudly. "This is the best part!"

Max catches your eye and winks, clearly enjoying himself despite being roped into a Disney movie viewing with a very enthusiastic seven-year-old commentator. Your heart swells watching him with your family, how naturally he fits in, how gentle he is with Ruby.

"Do you want to build a snowman?" Ruby starts singing along with the movie.

"Later, Rubes," you promise. "Let's watch the movie first."

She nods seriously, then turns to Max. "Pay attention to this part. It's very important."

"I won't miss a second," he promises, and Ruby beams at him before turning back to the screen.

Your mom reaches over and squeezes your hand, giving you a knowing look. Even your dad has stopped thinking about racing long enough to appreciate the moment – his youngest daughter sharing her favorite movie with your boyfriend, who happens to be the F1 driver he's been fan-boying over for years.

It's perfect, you think, watching your family and Max together. Different from how you imagined telling them, but perfect nonetheless.

"Shh!" Ruby whispers loudly. "Elsa is about to sing Let It Go!"

Max shoots you a slightly panicked look as Ruby starts to stand up, clearly ready to perform the whole number. You just grin and shrug. After all, you did warn him about the singing.

Later that evening, you finally manage to steal a moment alone with Max. Ruby had fallen asleep during the third replay of Frozen, and your parents took her up to bed before retreating to the kitchen to finish some Christmas preparations.

You find Max on the back porch, leaning against the railing and looking up at the stars. The winter air is crisp, and you can see his breath forming little clouds in the darkness. Quietly, you step out and wrap your arms around him from behind, pressing your cheek against his back.

"Hey," he says softly, turning in your arms to face you. His hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer. "Needed a little break from being Elsa?"

You laugh quietly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. "You were amazing with Ruby today. I think you're officially her new favorite person."

"She's a sweet kid," he smiles, then adds with a playful glint in his eyes, "Though I didn't expect to watch Frozen two times in one day."

"Just wait until tomorrow. She'll probably want to act it out."

He groans dramatically, but you can see the fondness in his expression. "The things I do for you."

"Mmm, and I appreciate every one of them," you murmur, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him softly.

Max responds immediately, one hand moving to cup your face while the other pulls you even closer. The kiss is gentle and unhurried, full of unspoken emotions. When you finally pull back, he rests his forehead against yours.

"Thank you," you whisper.

"For what?"

"For being so perfect with my family. For watching Frozen multiple times. For not running away when my dad started his racing commentary."

He chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest. "I like your family. Your dad's racing knowledge is impressive, your mom's trying very hard not to mother me to death, and Ruby…" he pauses, smiling. "Ruby reminds me of Victoria at that age."

You snuggle closer, seeking his warmth in the cold air. "I was so nervous about telling them, and then even more nervous when they didn't believe me. But this… this is better than I imagined."

"Even with your dad asking me to sign his entire Red Bull merchandise collection?"

"Hey, at least he waited until after dinner," you laugh. "Though I'm pretty sure he's in there right now planning which items to bring out first."

Max wraps his arms more securely around you, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I love you," he says quietly, and your heart skips a beat like it does every time he says those words.

"I love you too," you reply, tilting your face up for another kiss.

This one is deeper, more passionate, until you hear the back door creak and quickly step apart.

"Oh!" your mom exclaims, looking flustered. "Sorry, I just… wanted to ask about breakfast preferences… but it can wait… carry on!"

She disappears back inside, and you both burst into quiet laughter.

"We should probably go back in," you sigh, though you make no move to leave his embrace.

"Probably," he agrees, but instead of letting go, he pulls you back for one more kiss. "Five more minutes?"

You smile against his lips. "Five more minutes."

In the quiet of Christmas eve, wrapped in each other's arms, you can't help but think how perfectly he fits into your life, into your family, into your heart. Tomorrow there'll be more Frozen, more racing talk, more of Ruby's endless questions, but right now, it's just the two of you, and it's everything.

The winter sun is just beginning to peek through the curtains of your childhood bedroom, casting a soft golden glow across the room. You're wrapped in warmth, nestled against Max's chest with his arm draped around your waist. His steady breathing tells you he's awake before he even moves.

"Good morning," he murmurs against your neck, his voice still rough with sleep. His lips brush against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

"Morning," you whisper back, feeling his hand slowly slide beneath your sleep shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin.

"Sleep well?" he asks innocently, but his actions are anything but innocent as he presses closer, leaving a trail of kisses from your shoulder to your ear.

"Max," you breathe, caught between wanting to lean into his touch and knowing you should stop. "We can't… my parents…"

"Then we'll have to be very, very quiet," he whispers, nipping at your earlobe. His hand travels higher under your shirt, making your breath hitch.

You turn in his arms, ready to either give in or properly protest - though the way he's looking at you, eyes dark with desire and that signature smirk playing on his lips, makes you lean heavily toward the former.

"You're trouble," you murmur, reaching up to run your fingers through his disheveled hair.

He leans down to capture your lips in a heated kiss. "You love it."

Just as his hand starts to wander again, a voice pierces through the quiet morning:

"IT'S CHRISTMAAAAS!" Ruby's excited scream echoes through the entire house, followed by the thundering of small feet running down the hallway. "WAKE UP! WAKE UP! SANTA CAME!"

Max drops his forehead to your shoulder with a frustrated groan. "Your sister has impeccable timing."

"Welcome to Christmas with Ruby," you laugh, pressing a consoling kiss to his cheek. "I tried to warn you."

"YN! MAX!" Ruby's fists pound on your door. "GET UP! There are presents EVERYWHERE! And it SNOWED!"

"Five more minutes, Rubes!" you call back.

"NO MINUTES! NOW!" she insists, continuing to knock. "Mom said breakfast is ready and Dad made hot chocolate and I SAW A HUGE PRESENT WITH MY NAME ON IT!"

Max chuckles against your shoulder. "I suppose we should…"

"PLEASE!" Ruby calls again. "I promise I'll let you drink your coffee first!"

"That's quite the offer from her," you tell Max. "She usually doesn't allow any delays on Christmas morning."

"We're coming, Ruby!" Max calls out, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. "Give us two minutes to get dressed."

"TWO MINUTES! I'm counting!"

You can hear her dramatically counting down in the hallway, making Max laugh. "She's serious about this, isn't she?"

"Oh, you have no idea."

The living room is a festival of color and chaos when you finally make it downstairs. Ruby's bouncing by the tree in her Christmas pajamas, while your parents are settled on the couch with steaming mugs of coffee.

"Finally!" Ruby exclaims. "I counted way past two minutes!"

"Sorry, princess," Max says, accepting a coffee mug from your mom. "But I'm here now."

"Max, sweetheart, you really didn't have to get us anything," your mom says, noticing the pile of presents he'd arranged under the tree last night.

"Of course I did," he replies warmly. "It's Christmas."

Ruby's practically vibrating with excitement as your dad starts distributing gifts. "Can I open mine from Max first? Please?"

At your nod, she tears into the elaborate wrapping paper, gasping when she reveals a beautiful wooden chest with golden details. "It's like a treasure chest!"

"Open it," Max encourages, smiling.

Ruby lifts the lid carefully, her eyes widening. Inside is a complete collection of princess dresses, each one a perfect replica from different Disney movies, along with matching accessories and a tiara for each one.

"The chest is magical," Max explains, kneeling beside her. "Every time you open it, there might be a new surprise inside. And look at this…" He reaches in and pulls out a small envelope.

Ruby opens it to find a letter with the Disney castle letterhead. "Dear Princess Ruby," she reads aloud, her voice getting more excited with each word. "You are cordially invited to spend a royal weekend at Disney World, where you will have a private breakfast with all the Disney princesses…"

She doesn't even finish reading before launching herself at Max, nearly knocking him over. "Thank you thank you thank you! Can I try on the Elsa dress right now?"

"After presents," your mom laughs. "Let's see what else Santa brought."

Your dad opens his gift next, finding an envelope that makes him pause. "Son," he says, voice thick with emotion as he reads the contents. "This is…"

"VIP passes to the British Grand Prix," Max confirms. "Including garage access, grid walk, everything."

Your dad has to sit down, clutching the passes like they might disappear. "This is… I can't…"

"And this," Max hands him another package, "is just a little something extra."

Inside is a vintage racing jacket from your dad's favorite driver from the 80s, signed and authenticated. Your dad actually tears up.

Your mom opens her gift next, despite protesting again that Max shouldn't have gotten them anything. She unwraps a beautiful pair of earrings.

"Oh, Max," she whispers, "This is beautiful."

Ruby, who has been surprisingly patient, tugs at Max's sleeve. "Can we do my princess breakfast now?"

"After we finish presents," you laugh. "And maybe we should have real breakfast first?"

"But I'm a princess now," she declares. "Princesses have special breakfast times."

Your mom shakes her head fondly. "How about pancakes fit for a princess?"

"With chocolate chips?" Ruby negotiates.

"With chocolate chips," your mom confirms. "Max, honey, how do you like your pancakes?"

"However they're made is perfect," he assures her, but your mom is already heading to the kitchen, muttering about making sure she has enough chocolate chips.

Your dad finally finds his voice again. "Max, this is too much…"

"It's not," Max says firmly. "You're… you're family now. Or at least, I hope…"

He glances at you meaningfully, making your heart skip a beat.

Later, after pancakes and multiple princess dress changes from Ruby, you manage to steal some time alone with Max in your favorite spot on the back porch. The morning sun has warmed the air slightly, but there's still a crisp winter chill that gives you an excuse to stay close to him.

"Your turn," Max says softly, pulling out a small wrapped box from his pocket.

Your hands tremble slightly as you unwrap it, revealing a velvet jewelry box. Inside is a delicate silver necklace with two intertwined pendants - a heart and a tiny racing helmet.

"Max," you breathe, touching the pendants gently. "It's beautiful."

"Look at the back," he says quietly, his voice carrying a note of nervousness you rarely hear.

You turn the heart over to find an engraving: "You're my biggest victory. -MV"

"I love you," you whisper, pulling him down for a kiss. His arms wrap around you, holding you close as if you're the most precious thing in his world.

When you finally part, you hand him your gift - a wrapped box that makes him raise his eyebrows at the weight.

Inside, he finds a handmade scrapbook filled with your personal moments - sneaky paddock kisses, quiet mornings at home, victory celebrations, and candid moments no one else has seen. The final page holds a photo from yesterday - Max on the floor with Ruby, both laughing during their third viewing of Frozen.

"This is…" he starts, voice thick with emotion.

"Wait," you say softly, reaching into your pocket. You pull out a key on a simple keychain. "I thought… maybe… if you wanted…"

"Move in with you?" he finishes, breaking into that brilliant smile that never fails to make your heart race. "Yes. Absolutely yes."

He pulls you into another kiss, deeper this time, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other holds the key carefully.

"MAX!" Ruby's voice carries from inside. "I need help with my Cinderella shoes! And then we have to build a snowman! A FROZEN snowman!"

You both laugh against each other's lips.

"Duty calls, Elsa," you tease.

"Only if you'll be my Olaf," he grins, pressing one more quick kiss to your lips.

"Always," you promise, letting him lead you back inside where Ruby waits, already changed into her third princess dress of the morning.

Your dad catches your eye as you pass, "If you don't marry this boy," he whispers, "I will."

"Dad!"

"I'm just saying," he shrugs, then heads outside to join the snowman-building committee.

Your mom appears at your other side, wrapping an arm around you. "He's right, you know. He's perfect for you."

You lean your head on her shoulder, watching Max let Ruby direct him on where to place the snowman's arms. "I know," you smile. "I know."

"Best Christmas ever?" she asks softly.

Looking at your family, and Max in the middle of it all, belonging there like he's always been part of it - you smile.

"Best Christmas ever," you agree.