#I had a script and everything right in front of me

[orodrethsgeek]

.

[songbirdseung]

𝑩𝑨𝑩𝒀  𝑩𝑶𝒀  /  𝑺𝑰𝑴  𝑱𝑨𝑬𝒀𝑼𝑵

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬

Everyone kind of saw your boyfriend, Jake, as the babygirl in the relationship; the one to be spoiled, taken care of, and loved on constantly. And to be fair, they weren’t exactly wrong. He was your baby. The one you’d drop everything for, the one you’d die for. You’d do anything to make him happy, and he knew it, taking full advantage with those wide, pleading eyes and that cheeky grin that could get him anything he wanted.

But what people didn’t see was the way the roles would sometimes reverse.

Because there were moments, many moments, actually, where Jake completely flipped the script. He wasn’t always the clingy, whiny, spoiled one. No, there were times when he’d turn it all the way around, going above and beyond to baby you instead, never letting you lift a single finger, doting on you as if you were royalty. And when you finally sat him down, hands holding his face as you begged him to just relax and stop doing so much for you?

He never listened.

"Jakey, seriously-"

“Mm-mm.” He’d shake his head, placing a finger against your lips with a playful smirk. "You take care of me all the time, babe. Let me do this for you, okay?"

And you couldn’t even argue because every single time, those puppy eyes would come out, that signature pout curving on his lips, and you folded like a house of cards. The moment you gave in, that innocent pout would shift into a triumphant smirk, and before you knew it, he’d be dragging you along somewhere, his next surprise already planned.

It was the little things, too. The way he could take the most mundane moments and make them feel like a fairytale, the way he never let you sit in boredom for too long, always finding ways to entertain you. Whether that meant teasing you endlessly, poking at your sides just to hear you squeal, or pulling you into his lap and demanding your attention because he was your boyfriend and you were legally obligated to adore him 24/7.

Sure, Jake was your babygirl. But more often than not, he was also the one making sure you had everything you needed, never letting you go without, proving that underneath all his teasing and clinginess was a boyfriend who would literally carry the weight of the world if it meant making your life easier.

Like right now.

“Sim Jaeyun, just come back for the rest,” you called, watching in amusement as he hauled every single grocery bag from the trunk, arms flexing under the weight as he refused to do a second trip.

"Shut up and just open the front door, woman," he shot back, jaw clenched as he balanced a watermelon on his hip like it was a toddler.

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you stepped aside and let him inside. He really was something else. The perfect balance between boyfriend and best friend. The type to poke fun at you at every given opportunity, but also the type to kiss away your pout before you could even think of being mad at him.

And it was little things like that that made your heart swell.

Like when he’d text you while out, giving you barely five seconds to respond before fake-threatening to leave you empty-handed.

"hey dummy, i’m coming home soon, need anything?" "reply now or i’m leaving the store." "fine. ignore your loving boyfriend who just wanted to do something nice for you."

And yet, even when you did ignore his texts, he always came home with something anyway. A snack you’d been craving, a new hoodie he saw and just knew you’d love, or even a single flower, just because he felt like getting you one.

And when he placed it all in front of you, arms crossed, lips forming that exaggerated frown, demanding an apology in the form of babying him back?

Yeah, you’d just roll your eyes and pull him into your arms, rubbing his back like a child as you cooed, "My poor, neglected Jakey. How ever will you survive without my attention?"

And the second you started babying him? That pout disappeared, his smirk returning, his arms wrapping around you as he buried his face into your neck.

Yeah, you spoiled him.

But, God, did he spoil you right back.

[hexlenx]

EVEN IN OTHER UNIVERSES, I LOVE YOU. — aaron taylor-johnson

In which you came home tired from work and only just wanted to lay down on your shared-bed with your husband. Only to see five different version of said husband.

note: hello! So I have come to write another one shot or fic or whatever you call it because I couldn't help myself but write this new idea I thought of. I do hope you enjoy!

warnings!: none because we fluffy today pookie.

__________________

Sighing tiredly you let out a groan as you took a small break in your car, resting your head on the steering wheel as you closed your eyes for a few moments.

You just finished your work from helping your director write the script for the next movie you're starring. You see, you've been an actress in the industry for a long time now and even though it's tiring you continue to work through it as it is your passion. Plus, it's where you met your lovable and handsome husband. A fellow well-known actor in the industry.

The director asked for your help because you had experience in directing as well as a degree for it. So hence why you also came home late while your husband went ahead after a bit of your persuasion. Thinking of your husband, you smiled fondly. How can you be so lucky to have such a man?

While you were taking a small break from your car, said husband was sweating profusely in the kitchen with a spatula in hand while wearing a pink apron.

Looking at the five males in front of him, Aaron cursed underneath his breath.

"Fuck me."

The gate opened automatically after scanning your car's number plate. Before driving in reverse towards the garage door. Humming a soft tune you put the car on park and grabbed everything you need from the car before coming out of it.

Opening the door connected to the kitchen, you took off your shoes and hanged your coat on the hanger before calling out to your husband with a bright smile.

"Honey, I'm home!" Your smile slowly turned into worry as you were greeted by nothing. Usually you were greeted by a beaming charming smile as well as a giant hug lifting you off from your feet while being spun around by your husband.

Where could he be?

"Aaron? You there?" In slight worry you walked around the first floor of the house searching for your husband, but alas there was no sign so you moved upstairs.

There was a thump in one of the rooms when you were in the middle of walking on the stairs making you feel worry and fear when you heard a voice groaning as well as cursing. Your mind was running in a fast pace as you run up from the stairs towards the source of those noises.

No it can't be, please tell me he didn't—

The scene in front of you shocked you. The noises stopped as the figures looked at you in silence.

"Love, I can explain—" Aaron was the first to break the silence with his hands up as if he was trying not to anger you. And let me tell you, you do not want an angry wife at you.

However, instead of an angry wife. You looked like you were about to cry. You see, another thing about you is that you are quite an open and very sensitive person. Your legs gave up as you collapsed on the floor, tears running down your face as your exhaustion mixed with your anxiety was not a good combination right now.

"I—i thought you were with a w-woman—" you stuttered as your husband immediately went over you to put you in his embrace the moment your knees buckled whispering praises as well as reassurance to you. Desperately trying to calm you down. He knew you were very tired since it's about ten in the evening by now and he supposes that the noises he and the others made, made you think of something else.

His heart broke just by thinking he was doing things to another woman other than you, he cannot and will never do such a thing to you. He loves you too much to do so.

The five other male in the room looked at the scene in front of them, disbelief clear in their faces as they looked at your figure. Hearts beating uncontrollably as the younger looking male in the room muttered a name.

Your name.

This made all of you to snap your heads up to the male. Now that you look at it, they all looked just like your husband. No, actually all of them are your husband. No one can impersonate your husband unless it's your husband himself, his face is too unique to be able to copy.

"Why are there five more of you?"

Now that the situation has calmed down, you, your husband and five more of him sat in the living room in silence. Assessing the situation.

"So you're telling me that you, Dave was getting beaten up almost to death before coming here? James, you got here when you were stuck by Voldemort. Alexei, got here when you fell from your horse at full speed, head first. Tangerine, you got here after getting shot on the neck trying to kill the White Death's child and Pietro, you got shot multiple times by saving Clint from dying? Have I summarized it correctly?" You summarized outloud as the others nodded to confirm your statement. You sighed as both you and your husband looked at each other, not knowing what to do since unlike some of their worlds, you guys don't have the power to bring them back to theirs. But they all don't seem like they're hurt from their explanations. Maybe it's cuz they're in a different world.

"What were you doing before I barged in the room?" You asked your husband who looked everywhere but you.

"I was trying to give them some clothes, Dave, Pietro and James was the only one who accepted it but the other two wanted something that fit their styles." Aaron sighed as he took a sip at the coffee he made since it was getting late. He really thinks that you should rest first and let him handle it though.

"Sorry gentlemen, but it's quite late in the evening and I would like to take a nap and rest. We will take care of this tomorrow." You sent them a tired smile as you stood up from your seat and towards your bedroom upstairs, leaving all six of them in the room.

As soon as you were out of hearing range, Aaron's expression turned cold as he looked at Dave. Even if he knew the kid wouldn't hurt his wife because he played his character years ago, he will still not let loose his guard. Dave flinched from the glare and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly while the others stared at him the same way as Aaron, that's weird.

"How do you know my wife?"

This made the men's eyes go wide. Wife? That made them collectively let out a sigh of relief. Wife..

"She's also your wife?" James asked Aaron, it's kind of weird talking to yourself as he looked at the older one in wonder.

"also?" Aaron questioned.

"Yea, I mean. In my universe I married her and had Harry after we got married at twenty-one." James enthusiastically explained as his face brightened up when talking about his lover.

"Uh.. she's my girlfriend in my universe too." Dave lifted up his hand awkwardly. Though you can see that he is also happy to announce that you are his lover.

"I'm also her lover when I have escaped Hydra with my twin sister." Pietro said with a charming smile, his face brightening up whenever he mentioned his wife.

"I'm married to'er in my universe. Doll, was the only one who accepted me other than my brother." Tangerine uttered out as he lit up a cigarette before puffing it out the smoke from his mouth, where he got that from? I don't know and neither does the others.

"...she is my affair, my lover that I intend to protect with all of my soul. The only maiden who saw me for me and not some viscount." Alexei said as his eyes were clouded with the memories of his lover. Ah, how he longed to be in her arms again.

"All of us are her lovers in another universe, huh?" Aaron sighed out, his smile coming out as he thought that even in different versions of himself, he chooses you and is still with you. It makes him sigh in content and happiness as he is assured that no matter what happens, he is still with you in the end.

"Even in every other universes, I love you." All men uttered out, the atmosphere becoming serene as they sat in a few moments of silence.

Warmth filled their chests as the leaned back in their seats as their thoughts only circled in one subject.

You.

[okay-j-hannah]

The Kickstart | Smosh 💛

Smosh : Multishot

Spencer Agnew x Reader

Word Count: 10k

Warnings: slow burn, strangers to friends, friends to lovers, Spencer pining, reader is struggling in LA, not a lot of money, multiple jobs, poor studio apartment, inconsiderate boyfriend, lots of musical theatre talk, reader insert but a few things are already decided (last name is Bennett, favorite drink is Diet Coke, love the colors blue and green, artist, theatre nerd, etc.)

Request: This just came from my own head 😊  

A/N: I haven't written for Smosh in years... but the current cast and crew has me sucked back into the fandom. And I am sorely in need of more Spencer content 😭

I was initially inspired by this incredibly well done fic "Late Night" by @simpingsavant Please give it a read because it's a masterpiece.

Part 1: The Kickstart {You Are Here}

Part 2: Mama Bear

It was nearly three in the morning. The witching hour, you think with a smile. There was a light flickering near the fountain drinks. You lean against the checkout counter, thumbing through an aged script.

You memorize the cue lines that signal when quick changes are supposed to happen between scenes. The current musical you are working on is Hairspray.

Going through the script and your production notes really help pass the time.

The small rinky-dink gas station you manage is your reluctant home most nights. It wasn’t your favorite place, but it helped with the bills. Trying to make a living on production design for musicals isn’t the money maker you hoped it would be in LA.

You barely made anything doing hair and makeup for the community theatre. But it was something you loved.

And wouldn’t you rather be doing something you love than being miserable in a high paying corporate job?

Sure, you think.

It had been nearly eight months since you started working at this gas station. The owner was as rinky-dink as the store itself, speaking in short, to the point sentences and avoiding eye contact. There were only two gas pumps out front that rarely attracted customers.

The biggest commodity are the cheap drinks and snacks inside. Many stop by for something quick on their way to and from work.

Normally working the night shifts from 10pm to 6am, you are quick to notice any regulars. Not many people are awake at this time of night, let alone on their way to the gas station for a drink.

The bell sounds above the door as a familiar face enters. It was Glasses.

That’s what you called him after seeing him for the third time in a week, back when you first started working here.

He usually came in late like this, looking exhausted. He has curly dark hair, gold rimmed glasses, and some scruff. Today he’s dressed in jeans rolled up at the cuffs, brown boots, and a gray sweatshirt.

He gives you an awkward, close-lipped smile as he passes. You watch him go for the drink fridges. Energy drinks are his specialty, maybe the occasional coffee or breakfast sandwich. He always bought them two at a time, taking the slight discount for buying a duo instead of a single.

About every other week he’s there three to four of those days. You’ve always wondered why – especially when he always looked so tired when he came in.

But you’ve never had a conversation that’s lasted longer than the cordial exchanges.

“Hello,” you say.

“Hello,” he replies with his awkward smile.

You scan his drinks, Mountain Dew Kickstarts like always. “Find everything you need?”

“Yep.”

The computer beeps. “That’ll be $8.56.”

“All right.” He taps his card on the machine in front of him.

“Would you like your receipt?”

“No thanks.” He grabs his two cans.

“Have a nice night.”

“You too.”

It had been like that for maybe six of those eight months. After that, your curiosity began to plague you. The next time he came in, you watch him browse for a Kickstart and a breakfast muffin.

Saying hello to him had felt routine. But it was clear that you both recognized each other. So you decide to say something a little more than usual.

“Getting breakfast a little early?” you joke in your quiet voice.

He smiles, pulling out his wallet. “I just haven’t eaten anything all night.”

“Sounds like a rough night. That’s $9.34.”

He scans his card. “It has been.”

With him looking down at the keypad, you take the time to look at the circles under his eyes. “You should try the croissant sandwiches. Much better than stale muffins.”

He nods his head, “Next time. Thanks.”

You watch him walk away, still at a loss as to why he’s always in there this late at night.

A couple days later he’s walking in and giving you a wave. You smile at him as he makes for the drinks again.

He’s dressed in those same jeans and combat boots. Now he wears a t-shirt with a denim jacket. If you had friends to talk to, you’d want to tell them how Glasses loves to wear the same jeans and jackets all the time.

He comes to the counter and clears his throat.

You scan his drinks and a breakfast sandwich. A croissant sandwich.

You chuckle, “You won’t be disappointed.”

“I’m counting on it,” he says, tapping his card against his hand while he waits.

“Haven’t eaten anything all night again?”

He hums, shrugging his shoulders, “Felt peckish.”

“Do you want your receipt?”

“No, that’s fine. Have a good night.”

You throw the balled up receipt into the garbage bin beside you. “You too.”

You’d love to tell a friend that Glasses seems shy. He seems nice.

A few weeks later, you’re drawing sketches for costume designs. You were doing Shrek The Musical at the community theatre. Papers were full of drawings depicting a white rabbit, a wicked witch, a wolf in granny clothes, and fairies with colorful makeup.

You were humming one of the songs when Glasses came in with a yawn. His eyes search for you and he waves, “Good evening.”

“Good night,” you say sarcastically.

He grabs his drinks and comes to the counter with wandering eyes. You try to move your sketches and pencils out of the way.

“Sorry,” you say, “That’ll be $8.56.”

He scans his card, but keeps looking at your art. “You draw those?”

“Yeah,” you say, abashedly. “Little project.”

“They’re really good,” he pops open one of the drinks and takes a sip. “Are they just for fun, or…?”

You shyly pull out a drawing of a person in a dragon scale costume. “They’re for the musical I’m a part of. Down at the local theatre.”

“That’s cool,” his face lights up.

Something warm tickles your stomach. You were actually having a normal conversation with Glasses.

“Are you the costume designer?”

“Assistant,” you bow your head. “I’m head of hair and makeup.”

He nods, clearly interested. “Have you been a part of production teams much?”

“For years,” you smile, “I love theatre. I’ve done almost everything. Acting, costumes, set design, lighting – you name it.”

He pockets the other energy drink in his jacket pocket. “Sounds like fun. Have a nice rest of your night.”

“Thank you, you too.”

If you had friends, maybe you’d tell them that Glasses might become a friend. The only person you have to text is your new boyfriend Aaron. But he wasn’t a fan of nonsense texts – texts that were unnecessary.

A few weeks go by, now seven months into your job at the gas station. Glasses was still making his almost daily visits. You caught him standing outside the window for a minute before coming in.

You have confusion in your face, but a smile on your lips. “You okay there?”

He raises his eyebrows and talks as he walks to the fridges. “What do you mean?”

“Was there something on that window or were you just making sure you weren’t a vampire?” At his knitted brows, you continue, “You know… checking that you still had a reflection.”

Heat floods your face at the poor attempt at a joke, but Glasses laughs, nonetheless. “I might be nocturnal, but no, I’m not a vampire.”

You smile, admiring him walking towards you. His fluffy curls were sticking out from beneath a green hat. In white embroidery it says, Smosh.

“How were auditions?” he asks, getting his card ready.

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Good. I think we’ll have a good cast.” Earlier that week he asked about the latest Hairspray script that was on your counter. “The quick changes will be fun.”

He clears his throat, having paid but still standing at the register.

“I’m sorry, did you want your receipt?” you ask suddenly. “Normally you don’t so I stopped asking.”

“No, no – sorry. I’ve been trying to find some clever segway to introduce myself. But we’ve been seeing each other for months and it feels strange to do it now.” He rubs his forehead, struggling to maintain eye contact with you while he talks. “I mean, it’s not like I have a nametag like you.”

You look down at your chest to see (Y/N) printed on the laminated tag. “That’s true.”

He takes a deep breath and extends his hand. “I’m Spencer.”

You take his hand. It was very warm. “(Y/N).”

He smiles, “Nice to officially meet you.”

Maybe you’ll tell Aaron that Glasses has a new name now. Spencer.

One night at two in the morning, you were asked to do inventory while another employee managed the registers. It was strange to have a coworker with you on night shifts, but when things need to be restocked, it took a team.

You use a box cutter to break through packages, pulling out chip bags and candies. You roll them out on a dolly. Plastic wrappers crinkling as you restock shelves, you don’t notice who Eric at the counter is talking to.

But then a pair of glasses peek around the corner. “Hey!”

You smile wide, “Spencer!”

He smiles back, “I was worried when I didn’t see you at the registers.”

“Yeah, they need two of us here when we do inventory,” you shake a bag of doritos before putting it on the shelf. “How was your day?”

He sighs, opening his drink, “Long. Shooting weeks always are.” He tells you about the online comedy group he’s a part of. It was called Smosh.

“Oh, you’ve worn some merch that has that logo on it,” you say, moving a box out of the way.

Spencer nods, “Gotta promote whenever we can.”

“How large is the group?”

“Well, it’s more of an entertainment company. We have a huge production team and a cast. We film content for four different channels.”

“That’s impressive.”

He suddenly dips down to help hand you boxes of candy. “I guess. I think most of LA are internet personalities in one way or another.”

“I’m not,” you say quietly. “It is impressive.”

You learn about his directorial position on one of the channels. Being a head producer, he has a lot of sway on that content. You commend him on the responsibility, and he seems pleased, if not a little embarrassed.

He excuses himself not long after that.

You head towards the registers to restock the candy on the counters. Eric is there giving you a telling smile.

“What are you looking at?” you ask.

The middle-aged man scoffs, “That guy came in with the biggest smile on his face, but then he realized I was the one standing at the counter and he looked so disappointed.”

“I’m sure he was just in need of an energy drink.”

Eric shakes his head, “It wasn’t me that he wanted to see.”

Now in the present, you stand at the counter while Spencer leans against the other side. You had just revealed the fact that you have a boyfriend.

“H-How long have you been together?” he asks with much more nervousness than before.

You scrunch your nose in thought, “About two months. It’s been great though. He gives me rides to work and everything.”

“You don’t have a car?” Spencer asks, paying for his snacks.

You throw the receipt away, “No. I was taking the bus before I met him.” Noticing the awkwardness enter Spencer’s face, you say, “Rough I know. But I manage.”

“It’s nice of him.”

“Yeah, especially because I don’t really make enough to get a car right now.”

“Isn’t that why you have this job on top of the musical theatre stuff?” he offers you a package of your favorite candy.

It makes you smile, “Sure. But rent isn’t helping with my savings. Living paycheck to paycheck.”

“Does Aaron drive you to theatre too?”

Your gaze falls from Spencer’s, eating a piece of candy to give you some time before answering. “No, he’s not a big fan of musicals.”

Spencer scrunches his brow. Unsure of what was stepping over the line with this new friend of his, he tiptoes. “He won’t drive you because he doesn’t like theatre?”

“It’s kind of inconvenient asking him to come get me late after rehearsals. I shouldn’t ask for so much, he’ll think I’m dating him just to have a cab driver.” You snicker at your joke, but Spencer doesn’t seem to think it’s very funny.

He drinks from his can when another customer enters the store. That always meant he would excuse himself so you could get back to your job.

You start to expect Spencer each week. You wait for when you know a filming week was at Smosh. During that time, Spencer would visit for his necessary caffeine. He always stops to talk to you for a few minutes before leaving.

You always feel bad since he normally came in exhausted from work. He denies himself sleep just to spend a few more minutes with you.

It takes a couple more weeks, but he starts to stay even when more customers come in. He just steps to the side and waits for you to ring the customer up.

Then he comes back to continue your conversation.

“So do you prefer acting or production?”

You share the snacks that he’s purchased. “Production, for sure. I kind of developed stage fright a couple years ago. But I do miss being on stage sometimes.”

He looks at you while you talk. He’s an active listener. He zeros in on your face while you speak, ensuring he doesn’t miss anything.

But when he speaks, he tends to look elsewhere. “Did something happen?”

You shrug, “I just get nervous being in the spotlight now. I don’t like the attention much.”

“I get that. I haven’t always loved being on camera. It’s taken finding the right company to do it.”

You nod, “That sounds nice. To be so comfortable in the workplace. And to have everyone there as friends.”

He agrees, “Though a lot of them like to crack jokes about not seeing each other outside of work.” He chuckles as he remembers something. “It’s great being a part of a company where the goal is comedy content. You get to have fun with your friends every day.”

“And you’ve been there for so long,” you say, “You’ve definitely earned your place.”

“Thank you,” he feels warm around the collar, “It’s been hard at times, but well worth it now.”

You suddenly feel a warmth in your cheeks. “You know, um… my show opens next week. If – If you’re interested in seeing it. I’ll be there every night.”

“Helping Edna quick change into her fancy 60s outfit,” he smiles kindly. His eyes are soft and considerate as he watches your nervous gesture. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

You brighten, “Great!”

A week later you’re in the wings of the stage, sweaty with the heat the spotlights generate. A headset adorns your head, microphone near your mouth. You’re readjusting a costume onto a rack from the last quick change.

The last number of the show was currently playing: You Can’t Stop the Beat. You whisper the lyrics and subtly follow along with the choreography.

It was safe to do so with the curtains hiding you from the audience.

You listen to the applause as the cast bows. You imagine them gesturing to the tech booth, acknowledging the production team behind the scenes. You give a little imaginary bow to the audience.

Waiting in the dressing rooms, you help organize the costumes and clean up the makeup counters. Cast members thank you for your help, carrying massive bouquets and presents from the crowd.

You compliment the flowers and give your praise to their performances. It’s forty minutes later, having put the makeup and hairspray away, preening the wigs, and spraying down the character shoes, that you find your purse and head towards the front doors.

Outside on the sidewalk you’re met with an unexpected surprise.

Spencer.

He stands under the white lights of the theatre logo. He adorns his usual rolled up jeans and band t-shirt, denim jacket over it. His curls look extra defined tonight and in his hand are three colorful carnation flowers.

“Spencer? What are you…? I didn’t know you were coming tonight!” You walk towards him and for the first time since meeting him – you hug him.

Arms around his shoulders, smelling his clean, fresh scent. He seems timid to hug you back.

“Well… I did say I would come see the show.”

You shake your head. “I would have come out sooner if I knew you’d be here. I’m so sorry to keep you so long.”

“It’s no problem,” he offers the flowers. “Worth the wait.”

You give a smile, but your face is still regretful, “You shouldn’t have. I wasn’t even on stage.”

“Of course you were,” he says, “Your costumes and wigs and makeup were there.”

You hold the few flowers, completely endeared by him. “Thank you. This is really kind of you. You didn’t have to.”

He shrugs, shoving his empty hands into his pockets. “It’s kind of weird seeing you out of uniform. I’ve never seen you out of that polo and black pants.”

“Well, stage crew attire isn’t much different,” you laugh, gesturing to the long sleeve black shirt and leggings. “What did you think of the show?”

“It was excellent,” he says, “It’s such a fun show. I bet you loved teasing those wigs and picking out costumes with those crazy patterns.”

“And the quick changes?”

“I counted like 38 seconds,” he laughs, “That’s super impressive.”

You smile warmly, though the night air had a chill to it. “Thank you for coming, Spencer. It means a lot.”

“Of course,” he steps away, “I’ll see you later.”

You start to walk down the sidewalk, opposite the parking lot. Spencer suddenly has a thought. He runs up to you.

“Wait, how are you getting home?”

“Oh, I walk to the bus stop and take that.”

He looks down at your crossed arms trying to keep you warm. “Aaron really won’t come get you?”

“I don’t want to inconvenience him.” You wave away the look of worry in his face. “I do this every night, it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“Yeah, but… you shouldn’t have to.”

“Have a good night, Spence.”

You’ve never used a nickname with him before. He huffs a little before following your retreating figure, “Then let me give you a ride.”

You keep walking, “Really, Spence – I’ll be okay.”

“I know,” he says, “But let me help. I want to give you a ride. It’s cold.”

Your fingers feel like ice against your arms. You look in the direction of the bus stop before looking at the pleading in Spencer’s face.

“Okay,” you say quietly. “Thank you.”

Relief floods his expression, “Great, this way.”

He guides you to his car and even opens the passenger door for you. It’s a kind gesture that you aren’t used to. He turns on the heater and your seat warmer before exiting the parking lot.

You direct him to your poor excuse of a studio apartment. The pair of you speak pleasantries the entire way. The lighting design of the musical, the strategic sets that move quickly, the realistic prop hairspray, and things like that.

He didn’t notice how you cower in the seat. He thinks it’s just because you’re still cold.

“Is the gas station good about changing your schedule so you can be there on show nights?”

“Yes, they’re so kind about it,” you say, playing with your fingers. It was a nervous habit of yours – pinching, rubbing, and picking at them. “I switch with a usual day shifter.”

Spencer nods, “I – I’ve missed seeing you at our usual time.”

“Our usual time?” you laugh, like your gas station hangouts were scheduled playdates.

He smiles, embarrassed, “Yeah, I mean… your customer service is so excellent. How am I supposed to get a Kickstart when you’re not there?”

“You know there are dozens of other gas stations and convenience stores around here.”

“Yeah, but they don’t have you.”

Something beats loudly in your chest. It sends a waterfall of warm, fizzing fireworks into your stomach.

Your apartment building is in a scary part of LA – but it’s what you can afford. Aaron was hinting at moving in together just for the ease of splitting the rent. It did sound appealing when you could actually save a little for a car.

“Thanks again for the ride,” you say, unbuckling your seatbelt.

He looks nervous again, “Anytime. And… maybe we could exchange numbers – in case you need another ride from the theatre?”

You look at him warmly, “I’m not going to ask you to come grab me when you could be in a filming week.”

He shrugs his shoulders, “I would still come.”

With a small smile, you take out your phone and open a new contact. In the name slot you put ‘Glasses.’ Spencer switches your phones and puts his number in.

You smile wider as you put your name in the contact and put a little theatre emoji after it.

“Glasses?” he asks, handing you back your phone.

“Yeah, that’s…” you brush warm fingers with him as you accept your phone. “That’s what I called you when I noticed you as a regular at the gas station. I didn’t know your name, so I gave you one in my head.”

He seems overly please about that. He has to look away from you and smile. “That’s funny, I like it. What would you do if you saw me without glasses? It would be a whole new identify to you.”

“Very Clark Kent of you,” you laugh.

He suddenly removes his gold rimmed glasses and looks at you all serious. “You’re right, during the day I’m fighting crime with the Justice League and at night I refuel at the gas station.”

“Superman refuels with energy drinks?” you laugh, causally reaching over to snatch his glasses. “I don’t know if Krypton would approve.”

“No, no – Kryptonians thrive off extra energy. Sun energy and now caffeine energy.”

His eyes are a dark green-gray color. Maybe that’s just because it’s dark outside. But you can’t decide what color they actually are. They’re definitely not brown.

You raise the glasses to your eyes and look at him. “I didn’t realize Superman was so blind.”

“It’s not that bad,” Spencer laughs, looking at you fondly.

You return the glasses, “Drive safe. Thanks again for the ride. Text me when you get home safely.”

He waves you off, waiting until you’re able to unlock your door before driving away.

Inside your apartment, you look at the chipped walls and cracked ceiling. The musty, uncomfortable couch in front of the small tv atop a table you got free off a lawn. To the right is the tiny kitchen with only one counter and no dining table.

Rummaging through a cabinet, you find a tall plastic cup to put your carnation flowers into.

The bathroom is straight ahead, where you go into to get ready for bed.

The porcelain of the tub and sink have rust stains around the handles. The tile of the floor is broken in places and the dim light above is giving off an ugly yellow glow.

You open the mirror cabinet to grab what you need to brush your teeth. Brand names are all obscure as you did get the supplies from a dollar store down the street.

If you had a little more money, you would buy a face wash and face towels. But the essentials were good enough.

You cross the hall to get to your bed. Being a studio apartment, there isn’t a separate room for your bed. It lies on the floor behind the tv stand and in front of the only window in the whole place.

The queen mattress was the one thing you spent a little more money on. It doesn’t have a headboard or support to keep it off the ground, but it was comfortable and had nice periwinkle blue sheets.

You change into sage green pajamas with little daisies on them, climbing into your bed and fumbling for the phone charger next to the mattress.

As you plug your phone in, a text message comes in from Glasses.

“Just got home. You did amazing tonight! See you later this week.”

You heart his message and give him a thank you in reply.

~~~

The end of the week is approaching and you’re at the theatre again. Headset on, you hang in the tech booth, grabbing a few more safety pins, mic tape, and alcohol wipes.

The oversized fanny pack you love to wear across your chest is open and full of supplies. You stuff the microphone items inside, watching the stage from the view of the booth.

Tracy was beginning the song Welcome to the 60s. You turn on the microphone by your mouth.

“Head to the wings for quick change pretty please.”

A muffled reply comes through the headset, “On the way, (Y/N).”

You leave the tech booth and walk out of the audience room to the side entrance of the wings. Waiting on stage right, you hold Edna’s new dress for the song. Two stage crew members help by holding accessories and waiting to take off Edna’s current costume.

“Go mama, go, go go!”

Edna comes running off to stage right, tossing their purse to the stage crew member. They wiggle out of their simple purple plaid dress and step right into the sparkly pink dress you have waiting open on the floor.

You pull up the fabric as you hear the lyrics continue on stage.

“Don’t let nobody try to steal your fun, ‘cause a little touch of lipstick never hurt no one.

The future’s got a million roads for you to choose, but you’ll walk a little taller in some high-heeled shoes.”

You zip up the dress and readjust the mic pack on the suit strap beneath. Stage crew throws a new necklace on and a sparkle to the lip makeup. The other stage crew snugs a fuller wig onto the actor, starting to pin it down onto the wig cap. You hand a feather boa to the actor and help pin the new wig in.

“Come on out, hear us shout. Mama, that’s your cue!”

Just in time, you think, sending the actor back onto stage. It always felt like a close call, but the audience shouting their surprise and praise always felt like a reward.

You smile at the stage crew members and wave them off to help with set pieces. You then take the old purple plaid costume to the rack to keep it from wrinkling on the floor.

While in the dressing rooms you meet the actress playing Penny Pingleton, “Hey, sis – I noticed your mic tape not sitting so good on your cheek.”

She smiles worriedly, the action making the mic tape unstick from her face and the microphone dangle from her ear. “Just a little.”

You pull out an alcohol wipe and roll of tape from your pack. “There might just be too much makeup in the way.” You wipe the spot where the microphone sits on her cheek, fanning your hand to make the alcohol dry.

Cutting two pieces of tape, you line the microphone and stick it in place. The actress keeps her face straight, letting it adhere.

“Thanks, (Y/N).”

“Anytime.” You leave the dressing room to find the man playing Seaweed. His mic belt kept twisting beneath his costume.

You track him down and use safety pins to secure the mic belt to his undershirt. Now as he dances and changes, the mic pack will stay in place. He shares his gratitude and runs off to the next scene.

The rest of the show goes without a hitch. The audience claps during the bows, and you give your imaginary bow to the curtains.

You begin to clean the dressing rooms when you get a text. From Glasses.

“Hey, I’m at the entrance by the concessions when you’re done in the back.”

A smile creeps onto your face. He saw the show a second time? You text back, “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

You’re quick to clean up and organize the costumes before heading out. The front was still packed with audience members trying to talk and take pictures with the cast members. You push your way towards the concessions table to see Spencer there.

He was wearing a black Creed t-shirt, arms full of silly tattoos on total display. Instead of holding flowers, he’s holding a Diet Coke from the concessions. You grin, falling out of the crowd and into him for a hug.

He catches you and hugs you back. You feel the cold soda against your shirt.

“I can’t believe you came again!” You pull away, eyes shining. You’ve never had someone to meet outside the theatre after a show before.

He extends the drink he got for you. “I told you it was an excellent show. And I wanted to bring a friend to see it too.”

A woman stands beside him, “And he misses seeing you at the gas station every day.”

You miss how Spencer nudges the woman with his elbow. You were too busy recognizing her face.

“Oh my god – oh my fucking god,” you accidentally shake the soda as you wave your hands. “You’re Angela Giarratana!”

Her brown eyes widen ridiculously, “Um… yeah, I am.”

“You were on Nerdy Prudes Must Die!”

A smile replaces the surprise on her face, “Oh, yes! I was in that show last year. You really scared me there for a second.”

Spencer licks his lips, watching the excitement on your face. “I wondered if you’d seen anything from StarKid.”

“Well, I’m a theatre kid, aren’t I?” you say, “I literally have a Hatchetfield Nighthawks letterman jacket. It’s so nice to meet you, Angela. I’m (Y/N).” You lean into a hug and Angela returns it kindly.

“I know, Spencer’s talked about you.” She steps away and compliments the show, “You did a great job with the costume design. Spencer and I were timing the quick changes.”

“I am very proud of those,” you say excitedly. “I’m sorry, I can’t stop smiling. Thank you for coming to our show. How do you know Spencer?”

Angela smacks Spencer’s arm, “We work together. He’s more behind the scenes and I’m more on camera.”

“At Smosh? That’s awesome!”

“Yeah, it’s all right,” she says, looking to Spencer and then laughing. “I gotta be careful or Spencer won’t put me in any of the videos on Games.”

You open your soda, drinking it like you were parched all night. “Are you working on any more theatre projects?”

“Eh, not at the moment,” Angela says, folding her arms. “I’m spending most of my time on Smosh sets.” She eyes you for a second before saying, “Do you have a portfolio by chance?”

“A portfolio?” you ask, wiping your lip of soda. “Of what?”

Angela rubs at her chin, “Sketches of your costume designs or makeup aesthetics. Maybe a performing arts resume. Pictures of your work on stage.”

“Um…” you pull awkwardly on the edge of your shirt. “No, not formally. But I could pull something together.”

“That’d be great. I’d love to see more of your work.”

Spencer looks incredibly pleased with himself, biting on his lips. “Would you let me give you a ride home?”

Your eyes are still shining, flitting your gaze between the two friends. “Um… yeah – that’d be great.”

All of you walk outside the theatre and towards the parking lot. Spencer is quick to open the passenger door for you and you give an awkward thank you.

Angela rolls her eyes and climbs into the back. “He’s such a doofus.” You watch Spencer walk around the hood of the car to get into the drivers side.

“A what?” you laugh.

“Just watch him – you’ll notice sooner or later.”

He climbs in and uses the seatbelt, “Watch who?”

You clear your throat, “Joey Richter. He’s another actor on StarKid Productions. He’s super talented.”

Angela snickers in the back. “What was the first thing you watched on StarKid?”

“A Very Potter Musical,” you laugh, “Way back in the day.”

“Classic,” Angela says, folding her arms and slumping into the seat. “What brought you to LA?”

You play with your fingers. “I wanted to move out of my home state. And I wanted to get more into the arts. But it’s been hard to find stable work.”

“You’re telling me. That’s the life of an actor – just jumping from one gig to another.”

“It would be the dream,” you sigh, “To do this full time. I just wish I had a little more security with it. A stable income. Not to be afraid with how I’ll afford food every month.” You awkwardly laugh as you realize you might’ve said too much. “But I’m doing all right.”

Angela agrees, “It’s hard to do well in the arts.”

“Hard to be recognized,” Spencer says. “(Y/N) already does well in the arts.”

You smile, your cheeks warm. “When is your next filming week?”

“Next week,” Angela sighs, yawning big. “Which reminds me – I gotta pick up that new pair of glasses for the office.”

“Angela is super blind and never wears her glasses during shoots,” Spencer explains. “Especially on the games channel. She’s always squinting super bad at the tv whenever we’re playing a game.”

“And I’ve been doing just fine!” Angela says loudly, “I’ve been training my eyes to see that far.”

Spencer scoffs, “Yeah, and the compilations of you squinting are growing at an exponential rate because of it.”

“Shut up!” Angela yells.

You laugh at their antics. “Are you allowed to yell at your boss like that?”

Spencer looks in the rearview mirror, “Yeah, Angela. As your superior you need to treat me with a high level of respect. I expect a full written apology and a certain amount of groveling before you’re allowed back on the Games set.” His tone was serious, but by the wide comical look in his eye, you know he’s using hyperbole as a joke.

“The heads of Smosh are actually Ian and Anthony, so don’t you even pull that superiority card!”

You keep giggling at this funnier, more outspoken Spencer. Proof that he was very comfortable with this coworker and their workplace.

It sounds nice.

~~~

Angela sits in the passenger seat now, slumped into the door and leaning her forehead against the window.

“She’s really nice.”

“Yeah,” Spencer says quietly, thoughts still lingering on you.

Angela looks over at him and smirks. “You like her so fucking much. I knew you did when you wouldn’t shut up about her at the office, but damn – seeing you with her was nearly painful.”

“What are you talking about? I’m so subtle about it.”

“So you don’t deny it!” she sits up stick straight, so fast that the seatbelt locks into place and stops her from moving anymore.

Spencer flounders, “I – what – no, that’s not what I said!”

“You totally did you little fucker! You like her so much it hurts. You like her so much your cheeks are going to burst into flames. You like her so much you can’t get a full sentence out.”

“Angela, shut the fuck up – you don’t know what you’re talking about!”

She bounces in her seat, “I’m so subtle about it. I can’t believe you. You’ve been talking about this girl for almost a year. Of course you have a crush on her!”

“Angela, I swear to god, don’t ruin this for me.”

“How would I ruin this? I want my little Spencey to have true love. You have to ask her out.”

“Yeah, genius – you’re forgetting about a teensy little detail. She has a fucking boyfriend.”

Angela freezes, sitting back. “Right.” She bites her lip, “Should have made your shot earlier.”

“And risk looking like a creep asking a girl out at a gas station? No thank you.”

“Is you considering her for the production team on Smosh an elaborate way to play the long game with her?”

“No!” Spencer grips the steering wheel, sounding like a bickering sibling. “She has real talent, and I think she deserves the position.”

Angela holds up her hands, “All right, okay.” She side eyes him with raised brows, “… but you wouldn’t be upset if she suddenly became available and you could ask her out?”

He refuses to meet Angela’s eyes. “I’m not giving you the satisfaction by answering that question.”

“You basically just answered it,” she folds her arms, “You know… I can’t promise I can keep this from Amanda. Or Shayne.”

Spencer puts his elbow against the window and holds his temple.

“Or Chanse.”

“I figured.”

Angela gave him a sympathetic smile. “For what it’s worth – I think she has a real shot. We should get her portfolio to Ian and Anthony asap.”

~~~

You’re cleaning the counters at the gas station. It’s nearing the end of your shift, almost 6am. And Spencer hadn’t visited you like he usually did. It was actually making you worried.

You had spent the last few days collecting every piece of art and experience you had to compile a portfolio. It didn’t feel like a very thick folder, but it had every ounce of hard work from the last few years.

It sits within a blue cover under the registers, waiting for Spencer to come.

“Hey!” there he comes through the door. “I’m so sorry, we had an overnight shoot, and I forgot to tell you.”

You look confused, “Spence, you didn’t have any obligation to be here. We didn’t make any plans.”

“I know, but I usually…” he looks flustered and upset. “You know, you’re right. I’m sorry.”

You smile kindly, “It’s okay. I’m not angry.”

He runs a hand through his curly hair, his eyes considering you as you clean. “This early in the morning, we both look exhausted now.”

“Aw, we have matching dark circles under our eyes!” You go under the counter to grab the blue folder. “Here’s that portfolio Angela was asking about. I wasn’t sure how to get it to her, so maybe you could take it to work?”

“Um… yeah, for sure. Thanks.”

The bell above the door rings, signaling the appearance of a new customer. Usually at this point in the mornings, customers would come in for their sustenance before work. You’re focused on Spencer, unaware of the person walking towards you.

“(Y/N), let’s go.”

You turn your eyes around and see Aaron beelining for your counter.

“Oh, hey,” you say quietly, “You’re twenty minutes early.”

“And?”

This man was over six foot, broad shouldered, and unkempt. His eyes are lazy and hard pressed, his jaw tense as you contradict him.

You wring your hands, “I’m not allowed to leave until six.”

“Well, I’m here now. Let’s go.”

“That’s…” you suck in a breath. He smells like stale beer. “Let me clock out and tell my boss.” You round the counter and are quick to enter the back rooms.

Spencer stays where he is, holding the blue portfolio, and looking at Aaron with an air of disdain. It was not the first impression he was expecting when picturing your boyfriend.

“You waiting to buy something?” Aaron asks, frowning at the way Spencer’s looking at him.

“No, I was just…” he swallows. “I was just talking with (Y/N).”

Aaron squints his eyes, hands moving to his hips. “And you know her because?”

“Because we’re friends.”

“(Y/N) doesn’t have any friends.”

“Untrue, because I’m standing right here.”

Aaron flexes his jaw, “She hasn’t mentioned you before.”

“Yes, I have,” you reappear without your nametag and your purse now around your shoulder. “I’ve talked about him a couple times.” You stand beside Spencer and instantly feel the tension.

Aaron extends his hand like he wants to take yours. “If you did talk about him, I would have remembered. We’re leaving.”

You go to hold his hand, but he moves his to grab your arm, pulling you towards the door. You turn your head to mouth, “Sorry,” towards Spencer.

Spencer waves at you, his face placid and upset. He watches out the windows to see Aaron let you go on the sidewalk to get into the car yourself. He slams the car shut, neglecting his seatbelt, and squealing out of the parking lot.

Still upset, Spencer gets into his car and contemplates his next move. His instincts told him that you weren’t completely safe. He wonders if you and Aaron have moved in together yet – he was trying to pull the ‘cheaper rent’ card on that account.

It was blatantly clear that Aaron was gaslighting you. Within three minutes, he was pegged as an asshole.

Spencer pulls out his phone and sends you a text. “Nice seeing you today, hope you get some good sleep.”

He rubs hard at his face before driving off. He plans to show your portfolio to Ian and Anthony tomorrow.

~~~

You’re sitting on the couch, playing on your PlayStation, when someone knocks on the door. Enjoying the day off, you wonder what door-to-door salesman is at your house.

You open the door and a giant smile envelopes your face, “Spencer! You didn’t tell me you were going to visit.”

He take a breath, “Um… yeah, I wanted to ask you something and I couldn’t wait until you were on shift.”

You lean against the doorframe, biting your lip. “Well, I would invite you inside, but I have to warn you… it’s not very nice.”

“I don’t care,” he says matter-of-factly. “I just want to talk.”

“All right,” you say shyly, opening the door wide. You watch his reaction, already feeling embarrassment brewing in your stomach.

Spencer looks around for a second, taking in the minimal furniture and all around lackluster state of the structure. He zeros in on the old tv displaying your video game.

“Are you playing Red Dead Redemption 2?”

“Uh… yeah,” you say quietly, holding yourself and you walk into the living room. “It’s one of my favorites.”

Spencer smiles, finding it amazing to learn something new about you that he loves. “Nice horse.”

You laugh, sitting on the couch and grabbing your controller. Your cowboy character was riding a white horse in the middle of a river. “It’s the White Arabian you have to tame by Lake Isabella.”

“Is that… like the best horse or something?” Spencer comes to sit beside you, sinking into the musty couch.

“It’s the only elite Arabian horse that you can find in the wild.”

Spencer leans against the couch arm, resting his face in one hand. “I didn’t realize you were a gamer.”

“The more you know me, the more of a nerd I become.”

“Nothing wrong with that, you big nerd.”

You giggle, “What did you want to talk about?’

Spencer clears his throat. “I uh… I took your portfolio to work.”

“What did Angela think?”

“She thought it was all great. But um… a few others got a look at it too.” He shifts uncomfortably on the couch. “There’s this job opening on the production team, specifically on the Smosh main channel. But they would help with all the channels.”

You pause the game again and really look at him. “What is the position?”

“An assistant art coordinator. They help the art directors with creating sets, costumes, and character looks.”

“And what are the responsibilities?”

“They’re looking for someone to manage hair and makeup for Smosh skits and any character work on other channels. Most of the cast do it themselves, but we do need someone who specializes in prosthetics makeup. And you seem to have done that a lot in theatre. We also need someone to manage costume work – the upkeep of them.”

You swallow hard, arms slowly moving to hold yourself. “Do you know what the salary is?”

“I think it’s around 50k-60k. You’ll make between $24 - $28 an hour.”

You bite your cheek. “That’s great.” You look at your surroundings. This new job would be paying you over $10 more than you’re getting now. “Are you saying Smosh is interested in interviewing me for assistant art coordinator?”

Spencer nods his head. “That is basically what I’m saying.”

“Did you show your bosses my portfolio on purpose?” You lower your eyes but look at him through your lashes.

He takes a deep breath, stretching out on the couch. “Maybe. Maybe I thought you deserved a chance.” He looks at you seriously, “I think you’ve got some real talent, (Y/N). You should go for an interview.”

“I… I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll do it.”

You look at him, “I’m suddenly super nervous.” A laugh escapes you, “I… I have to talk to Aaron about it.”

“Okay,” Spencer says with an edge. He tries to be respectful. “Have you two…”

“We’ve moved in together,” you say softly. “To make bills a little easier. And… and as a trial run, I guess. I’ll be able to save up for a car now.”

Spencer has a finger on the corner of his mouth. “Do you think you could make an interview this Thursday?”

You think for a second, “I’m sure Aaron would be okay with that. I’ll just talk to him about it tonight.”

He doesn’t seem happy about that statement. But instead of saying something he might regret, he points to the PlayStation. “Have you completed this game before?”

“Oh, yeah – maybe three times,” you pick up the controller again. “This time I’m trying to complete all of the side quests before finishing the main story.”

“You should be wearing a cowboy hat while playing.”

“That would be awesome,” you laugh. You look at him with sincerity, “Thank you for looking out for me, Spence. I appreciate the chance.”

He gives a close-lipped smile. “Always.”

~~~

You step off the bus and begin to walk down the street. Using your phone, you follow the directions that Spencer gave you.

The Smosh office was right around the corner.

You enter the building, pulling on the only pair of dress pants you own. You readjust the simple blouse to show off the single diamond necklace you wear around your neck. You hope it gives you a professional first impression.

The main entrance of the building shows a little receptionist desk and plush chairs to wait in. You advance the desk while noticing behind it are many tables and folding chairs – probably for lunches.

“Hello, how are you?” a nice lady at the desk says.

You wave shakily, “I’m good. I’m here for an interview with Mr. Hecox and Mr. Padilla.”

She seems to find you saying their surnames comical judging by the little smile on her face. But she gestures to the plush armchairs behind you. “Sure, just wait there and I’ll call them.”

You turn around and notice that behind the chairs is a large window showing a large kitchen. The lunch tables and folding chairs makes more sense.

“Thank you,” you say, looking down at the name plate, “Selina.” You sit down and holding your famously large fanny pack in your lap. It gives you something to hold with your fidgeting hands.

Now sitting, you can see the wide windows behind Selina’s desk. There’s a long conference table in there with a television and speakers on a stand. There’s a phone speaker in the middle of the table for any people that are being called in remotely.

Behind the conference table is a little sitting area with a couch and armchair. A couple tables and folding chairs are in the rest of the open space. It’s probably a big room for any meetings with teams or big groups of people.

“(Y/N) Bennett?” someone asks. You jump and stand to see two men coming around the corner.

One is taller with dark, wavy styled hair, a nose ring, and cool tattoos spidering up his neck. He has a great smile and just radiates a natural energy you like.

The other is slightly shorter with brown hair in a classic cut. He has a scruffy beard and black square glasses. He gives very much dad energy with how he’s dressed.

“Yes,” you say rather breathlessly. “I’m (Y/N) Bennett.”

“I’m Anthony,” the taller says, “And this is Ian.”

You shake hands with them, Ian gesturing to the conference room. “We’ll meet in here.”

The three of you walk into the room and take seats around the long table. “It’s nice to meet you,” you say quietly, “Thank you for offering me an interview.”

“For sure,” Anthony says, leaning forward in his chair. Ian sits and immediately starts spinning back and forth. “We saw your portfolio and were really impressed with your work.”

“Thank you,” you say eagerly.

Ian clears his throat, “Could you tell us a little bit about yourself?”

“Well, I’m living here with my boyfriend. I’ve lived here for about two years. Before that I was in Nevada, just outside of Vegas. My family is still there,” you say quietly. “I’ve been a theatre and fine arts student all my life. I’ve been doing community and school productions since second grade. I have experience in both stage acting and in tech behind the scenes.”

“Which do you prefer?” Anthony asks.

You hold onto your fanny pack, “Right now, probably tech. I really enjoy designing costumes and putting characters together. Sometimes I do miss acting though.”

“What do you enjoy about art design?” Ian questions.

You focus on his chair spinning back and forth. “I’m a fan of storytelling. I think one of the greatest talents a person can have is in telling a story, no matter the platform. If I can be a part of that process, I’d enjoy every second. I want to show the story in costumes, hair, and makeup. It’s the most expressive way to describe a person or character.”

“Well said,” Anthony nods. “How would you manage a set when coordinating those things?”

“I would need to see the costume closet to know how to care for it. Organization is key, ensuring you don’t lose any pieces. You’d need a costume rack on set and some essentials, like safety pins, apparel tape, a lint roller, things like that. Makeup vanities will need to be disinfected and cleaned after use, brushes clean and organized. Prosthetics and stage makeup would need to be cared for to make sure we don’t share any germs and possible infections. The same goes for any hair and wig essentials.”

Ian seems a little lost in your explanation, just impressed that you were on top of it. “You have a fine arts degree, is that right?”

You nod, voice still quiet with the nerves. “That’s right. I got a bachelor’s in fine arts at Utah Tech University in St. George, Utah.”

“Is that close to where you’re from in Nevada?” Anthony asks.

You smile, “Yeah, it’s just over an hour away. It has a well known outdoor theatre called the Tuacahn Amphitheatre. I helped with a few tech things during summer shows. And then I acted at the college.”

“What shows did you act in?” Anthony asks further.

You play with your fingers. “We did Footloose, Addams Family, The Drowsy Chaperone, Elf: The Musical, Measure for Measure, and Much Ado About Nothing.”

Anthony whistles, “You did Shakespeare?”

“I love Shakespeare,” you say. “Much Ado About Nothing is my favorite play.”

“You are a major theatre kid,” Ian says, “Why don’t you act anymore?”

You squeeze your fanny pack, “I’ve gotten a little camera shy the last couple years. I prefer helping with quick changes and fixing any mic tape mishaps.”

You take a turn asking some questions about their art department and typical filming schedule. You learn about their expectations for the job and what the salary would be. It was exactly as Spencer had said.

Ian and Anthony share a look with each other before leaning forward. Anthony looks at you kindly, “Would you mind if we conference for a minute? We want to give you an answer today.”

You widen your eyes, “Yeah, of course. Thank you.”

The pair stand and excuse themselves to discuss things outside the room. You’re left in the swivel chair, picking at your fingers and praying that the interview went well. It would be incredible to be given a job that grants you the security and stable income you wanted.

There was a chance to have friends here. Spencer and Angela would be here. You would be storytelling in little comedy sketches. You’d be a part of a team that designed characters. You’d be in charge of ensuring faces weren’t shiny on camera, hair was in place, and clothes looked good.

This could be a home for you.

It takes almost ten minutes for Ian and Anthony to return. They come back with two others that are introduced as Cassie and Erin. They are art director and assistant art director for all productions.

You would be working beneath them should you be offered the position.

More questions are asked by the newcomers, and you find them to be very kind and artistic like yourself. You agree on many fronts, having many things in common. You would be happy to be working in their department.

Ian and Anthony both have smiles on their faces when they say:

“(Y/N), we want to formally offer you the position of assistant art coordinator. Responsible for hair and makeup, and the costumes of the cast. You’ll be our main reference for any special effects makeup and prosthetics. And you’ll help coordinate for all four channels.”

Tears start to form in your eyes. “Really?”

Cassie and Erin had faces full of sympathy. Cassie was covering her face with her hands. Erin was folding their arms and smiling.

Ian was standing their awkwardly, looking at your emotional reaction, but Anthony was quicker to ask. “Is that a yes?”

You laugh tearily, “Yes! Yes, I’d love to take the position. Thank you guys so much. I’m so excited – I don’t know what to say other than thank you.”

They all clap momentarily, Ian announcing, “Then we should call everyone to the lunchroom and make introductions.”

“We’ll have Selina bring up contracts to sign,” Anthony says, gesturing to the door. “You want to follow us?”

You nod enthusiastically, shaking hands with everyone on the way out. There are lots of thank yous and congratulations.

Cassie, Erin, and Ian go to round up cast and crew to the lunch tables you spotted earlier. Anthony goes to speak with Selina at the receptionist desk.

You exit the conference room, wiping tears away and clutching your fanny pack.

Spencer was there, pacing by the plush armchairs you sat in earlier. He has his arms crossed, one hand at his mouth, tracing his lips in a nervous gesture.

At your arrival, his head whips to you, eyes wide at the tears running down your face. He looks so afraid, unsure of how the interview went. But he might’ve misinterpreted your tears.

“(Y/N),” he says softly, “What… what did they say?”

He didn’t even notice the other people gathering at the lunch tables.

You walk towards him, still trying to wipe at your face, “Spence.”

He wants to hug you desperately then. He wants to comfort you. And he wants to hurt whoever decided to make you cry.

You throw your arms around his neck, burying your face there. He holds you back, still at a loss as to what the final verdict was.

“(Y/N)!” you hear Anthony, “Get over here!”

Spencer still holds you as you whisper to him, “I got the job.”

He pulls away and holds your waist, “What?”

“I got the job,” you whisper more excitedly. “They’re about to announce it to everyone.” You flounce away to stand at a counter with a few mini fridges, addressing a group of cast and crew. You notice Angela standing in the crowd.

She gives you two thumbs up and you wave back.

Spencer walks over just as Ian begins to talk.

“Hey, guys! We wanted to introduce our newest member of Smosh. This is (Y/N) Bennett!”

Anthony continues, “She will be working in the art department as an assistant art coordinator. She’ll be our head of character design and management of costumes, hair, and makeup.”

The crowd begins clapping and shouting their congratulations. Spencer joins them, standing next to Angela and a few others.

Unbeknownst to the pair of you, some cast and crew were sharing looks. People you hadn’t met yet were winking at each other. They knew full well how much Spencer wanted you to get this job.

You wave at everyone, “Hello! I’m so excited to meet you all and start working on these projects.”

Everyone breaks apart to introduce themselves.

Angela brings over a number of people, “Hey, (Y/N).” She says, “Here are some of our castmates.”

A tall woman in a beautiful jumpsuit says, “I’m Amanda, welcome to the Smosh family.”

“I’m Shayne,” a fit blonde man shakes your hand, “And this is Courtney.”

“Hi,” a blonde woman then shakes your hand, “It’s nice to meet you.”

Angela sticks her head in, “Those two are married.”

You nod, giggling, “Wonderful.”

“I’m Chanse,” a curly haired man says, giving you a hug, “Welcome to the team.”

A tall man with a great mustache waves, “I’m Tommy!”

“Hi!” you say, “It might take me a while to remember all your names. Thank you for being so welcoming. I’m so excited to start.”

“Spencer’s told us a lot about you,” Amanda says with a cheeky smile.

You look toward Spencer’s rosy face. “All good things, I hope.”

“Oh, definitely,” Shayne laughs, “He has nothing but praise for you.”

Spencer ignores the immediate retort that the single worst thing about you is your boyfriend. “You guys need to calm down.”

“Can we give you a tour?” Amanda asks, taking your arm, “The office has a lot of sets and rooms.”

Courtney appears on your other side, “We can show you the art department and the costumes closet!”

“And the makeup vanities,” Chanse says, already leading the way, “There are a couple by the sets, but there is one in the green room where Angela takes her naps.”

“Hey!” Angela instantly retorts, “Hey, hey, hey… uncalled for!”

Amanda scoffs, “But true.”

Angela snorts, “Yeah, sure.”

You are dragged away by Amanda and Courtney, Chanse and Angela still bickering along the way.

Spencer stays where he is with Shayne. The latter having a very knowing smirk on his face. Spencer ignores him as long as he can.

“Have you ever been told that you shouldn’t make faces because you’ll be stuck that way?”

Shayne chortles, “I’m just curious how you feel about this.”

“Clearly you already have a theory.”

“I do, based purely on the last eleven months of you pining over this girl.”

“I am incapable of pining.”

Shayne wheezes, “Yeah, sure. What do you call bringing up (Y/N) whenever possible, talking through ways to introduce yourself to her, workshopping conversations with me to get to know her…”

“All of those things were in confidence.”

“And all blatant examples of pining over a woman you’ve grown attached to!”

Spencer licks his lips, watching you being dragged by Angela towards the pods of employee desks. “I don’t… I can’t do anything about it now.”

“I’ve never seen you like this, man,” Shayne chortles. “It’s kind of throwing me off right now. You don’t talk about girls much.”

“The dating apps have been seriously lacking the last year.”

“Because you’ve been talking up some chick at the gas station,” Shayne laughs again. “I have to commend you for playing the long game.”

Spencer shakes his head, “I have to be fine with being just friends.”

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t try to be your best friend.

[on-the-clear-blue]

Dead Man's Diner pt 7

Hearing the chime of rhe bell above the door, Danny mentally prepared himself before poking his head around the corner "Heya! I will be with you in one hot sec!"

Rushing around the kitchen, Danny set the chili to simmer and quickly cleaned himself up before coming back to greet his newest customer.

Stepping upt to the bar, Danny put his best customer service smile on and opened his mouth to speak, but the words that came out were not in English.

"Hey there! Welcome to Big C's diner what can i..." Blinking a bit before frowning, Danny looked closer at his customer, his eyes flickering a bright green as he squinted at the man.

Because either this man was the very strong revenant that had claimed Crime alley as his huant, or there some how was a 4th Halfa in the world.

---

Jason found the little diner comfortable, more up to date than the typical dive that was in the Alley, there wasn't even any blood splatter in the back booths!

He kinda didn't like how there was only a single person working there at night, being so close to the Alley and all, but that was easily fixed if he just happened to come around in his Red Hood outfit.

Sending a smirk like smile to the teen that came out from the kitchen, who had the fakest smile that Jason had ever seen outside of a gala.

But his smirk slowly slipped as the kid spoke, his words both sounding clear and distorted at the same time, he could make out words but it was very clearly not words at the same time.

Then, the kid's eyes flashed, and Jason had seen those eyes before, he had seen them in the mirror more times than he was willing to admit.

(Holy shit this kid is about to have a Pit episode in front of me...how the fuck did this kid get in the pits?) Jason thought as he leaned back into his seat, his hand instantly going to where his guns usually were, but only grasped at air.

(Right...forgot those at home...) He thought, settling instead to set his hands on the counter, Jason narrowed his eyes at the teen

But just like that, the green was gone, and the teen cleared his throat, "Sorry about that, um, welcome to Big C's, what can I get ya?"

---

Danny gave a weak smile, he didn't exactly want to throw down with this potential halfa, sure he liked a good ghostly welcome every now and again, but he just cleaned up and he would like his diner to stay that way thank you!

The man across from him glared for amoment longer before shaking his head, "Shit, ugh...gimme a coffee and...what's your special today?"

Reaching for the coffee pot, Danny felt a rumble in the diner cart, and there was suddenly a chalk board on the wall behind him.

Pouring his customer a mug, his brain paused for a moment, translating the ghost script before he spoke "Cadavers chili hotdogs, made with 100% not person meat...I promise neither are made out of people, definitely didnt seen any bodies when I made it my guy."

---

Staring at the blackboard that Jason was very much sure wasn't there a moment ago, he felt his chest tighten and ache as he read the...sigils? Words? They were definitely something and he totally shouldn't know what they mean.

Biting back a snort at the dry comment, Jason focused on him "I will take two...Danny? That your name or just the name on the aprin you got?"

Jason was totally not digging for information, because he totally wasn't a Bat or a Bird, and he totally didn't have an urge to know everything about the person across from him.

Getting a dry chuckle from the guy on the other side of the counter, who could only shake his head, "Sadly, that's my name, I will be back in a sec with your food, no running off tho' ya hear? Already dealt with dine and dashers once this week."

Letting out a chuff, Jason kept his eyes around the room, he knew logically he should be more freaked out by this whole experience, but he couldn't help but feel his body relax and his mind comfortable slow.

Holding the cup of coffee in both hands, he took a long sip and memories hit him harder than a crowbar.

It was his mother's coffee, not the bitch that sold him out but his mama, Catherine, the woman that struggled to keep him happy and fed.

It was the watered down brew, stretched to make it last longer.

It was milky and sweet with sugar packets pilfered form diners such as this and powdered milk he used to steal from the grocery store just for her.

His mama gave up so much for him, why couldn't he just do one little petty theft for her?

His heart aches again, and the intense feel of the pits roar in his ears, but they weren't calling for blood, the pits crooned in nostalgic heart break.

Usually remembering before his death was a trigger, was something that made him rage, but right now? He could only mourn for the mother and son that used to cuddle up together under a ratty blanket, of the mother that whispered stories to him during long quiet nights, of the woman that he had found dead on one such quiet night.

---

Tossing on the last bit of fresh diced onions, Danny had a cheesy grin on his face as he brought the plate to the front, mouth opening to speak before noticing his customers disposition.

He was hunched over on himself, looking small (which was impressive for a man thst looked twice his size and 4 times more muscular)

Tears were streaming down his face as he stared at the now half full mug, for some reason it felt heart breaking to see.

Setting the plate down carefully in front of the man, Danny placed a hand on his shoulder, "It's okay man...your okay bud." Awkwardly Patting his customers shoulder, Danny felt a bit of panic, he wasn't Jazz he didn't know how to like, console people!

It took a few minutes for the man to calm, and Danny handed him a few paper towels to clean himself up, patting him on the back one last time, Danny let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, "Well...um, hope that the coffee is so bad that it made you cry, I-uhh, could comp it if you want?"

The man just shook his head, "Fuckin' hell, ain't bad, just...God damn it..."

---

Rubbing at his eyes Jason huffed, "Sorry for, um....blubbering on ya like that..

don't usually get teary at coffee, that's more of Timmer's shtick, just tastes...tastes like my mom's coffee when I was a kid..." shaking his head, Jason looked at the chili dogs, they still steamed, the cheese now melted on nicely.

Danny just nodded, "Yeah, some reason i have gotten a few comments on that" shrugging his shoulders, he started to figgle with a cloth, wipping down the counter as he spoke "Meh, Gotham is fucked up and I don't want to even begin to try and figure out."

Croaking out a laugh Jason dragged the plate of food closer, "Fucking right about that...though if you keep making it like that you got yourself a regular customer."

Reaching a hand across the counter, Jason gave Danny a weak smile, "Names Jason, nice to meet ya."

Taking the hand, Danny gave a smirk back, "Got it, one sad cup of coffee for you then-" Snapping his head over as he heard a beeping sound, Danny got a panicked look on his face "Oh shit! My cookies!"

---

Storming to the back, Danny ran to the oven, throwing it open, scrambling for the oven mits, he phased a hand through them instead of tugging them on, and quickly pulls the smoaking batch of sweets from the rack.

Plopping them on the counter, he hears the oven snap shut as he sighs, turning to thank the diner, he pauses to see the sight of a man he was hoping that he would never have to see again.

"Oh little Bager, King of the Realms making food for the common folk? How the great have fallen.." Vald said with a viscous grin, his hand reaching up to flip off the oven, "Did you think I wouldn't find you? Thought you could rum off and not tell dear old Uncle? Don't worry Bager, while old Vlad might not come around to vist much..."

There was a flash of black light and where a man once stood was a ghost, his grin pulled back devilishly "I am sure Plasmius will make up for it very...very well."

---

Laughing a bit as he watched Danny scramble inot the back, Jason stared at the food, he was still hungry but...he held an apprehension of sorts, was this going to bring back memories? Would they be good like the coffee or...

His thoughts were cut off as a body was through through the deviding wall from the front of the house to the kitchen.

Bolting up out of his seat, he watched as Danny stepped out of the hole in the wall, shaking out his fist as he did, "I really don't have the fucking time for you Plasmius, don't you see I have a customer?"

Jason stared as the body that was punched through the wall, that looked mangled, twisted and broken start to twitch and crack back into place, limbs bending back from positions they should never be, and then the man sat up, a feral grin on his lips.

(Really fucking bad day for not having my God damn guns.)

[sheeezu]

.Shift by channeling.

Go to your DRs by channeling, again, step to step guide.

This can be used as a separate method, or you could use this when you need a final push.

This isn't the spiritual type of channeling, nor do you need to use AI or something, nor do you get possessed.

Step 1:

Before attempting to shift, choose a person from your DR. It could be your S/O, you can choose to channel multiple people, if you have a friend group or something, but i recommend picking someone whom you have a close connection with in your DR.

Have a voice claim ready, take some times to look at the person's pictures, remember their physical attributes, focus on their personality.

(You can listen to songs which remind you of your relationship with that person)

Step 2:

Lay down, when you're prepared to shift. You're going to start off saying affirmations like it's a normal shifting method.

If you can visualize, i recommend you think of visual affirmations which relate to your DR.

Its a method to affirm, where you go around your DR, whether it's your DR house, room, or a memorable or nostalgic place in your DR, and see your normal shifting affs, carved, written around, for example, your affs formed by clouds, carved into pillars and tables, written on your clothes, finding papers or letter which say your affirmations (so Affirmations ∝ Your DR)

You should try to be hype fixated, so if you are fidgeting, can't stay still, you're too engrossed in what's going on inside your mind to notice your body itching or twitching.

Do this until your symptoms intensifies or reach a peak, everyone feels differently, for some it's more physical (seeing light flashes, tingles, floating) for some it's mental (having a gut feeling, feeling euphoric) so don't get discouraged.

You aren't doing anything wrong.

Step 3:

This is where we come across our special person. While you're seeing your affs, make yourself meet them. Now, if you're confused and going to say this isn't channeling, then just stop. You're creating this reality and undoubtedly every moment you're experiencing, so when you're in a deeply concentrated phase, the only thing that could possibly stop you from having a very real and authentic meeting with your SP is your own self-doubt (anyways, if you're having self doubt then say an aff or two to combat them)

Your SP is standing right in front of you, let yourself loose at this point. No need to force anything scripted, but if you want then you can.

Have a conversation with your SP, whether it's initiated by you or your SP.

Maybe even invite them to drink tea, sit outside, take them to a secret spot.

Now you're having a conversation with them, starting off with your conscious thoughts doing the talking from your part, whatever your SP says is your subconsciousness speaking, or you're directly channeling them (both of which are the same thing, i hate being repetitive, you're creating reality if you believe you're being channeled by your SP, then that's what's happening)

Start off with a normal conversation, like how'd you talk to someone, someone you love and know very well.

Right now, you're going to say a very specific affirmation:

"(your SP's name) is just about to ask me what i was doing in my OR/void reality."

Then let the conversation take a natural turn. That question will eventually be asked, your loved one is just very curious about why you were away from them.

Now, what you will answer back will be the way how to shift.

"Oh, must be a fever dream, i had never had a dream so real, i was touching everything, each and everything felt legit." (best for permashifters, don't be afraid of using this if you intend to come back)

"I guess it was out of responsibility, but don't worry, i'm here now."

"I don't know myself, all i know i didn't like being there."

"I was curious, that's all; you know i like exploring new things, and come on, it was a whole new universe, but now i want to rest at home."

Whatever your SP says in response, whether they're asking you to come join them, or how they're glad you're back, just nod back.

Step 4:

Go to sleep in your DR, if you recall, you're in your home. Go towards your bed, crash down, close your eyes.

From this point onwards, you're going to embody your DR self and fall asleep acting normal, completely abandon the fact that you were shifting, or that you have shifted to your DR, act like a person (your DR self) living in any other world (your DR)

I described this in details in the third phase of my pinned post, you're supposed to do all that.

You'll wake up in your DR.

Why is this method supposed to work?

Connection to your DR environment ✔

Logically explains your involvement with your previous reality, why you were there for so long ✔

Reminds your consciousness that you've successfully shifted ✔

Connection to your loved ones in your DR ✔

Most importantly, connection to your DR self ✔

...

That's the method, you can also shift in between the method as well. There really isn't any reason for you to wake back in your CR, listen to some subliminals to remove intrusive thoughts, then you're good.

You could also make it so your SP had more control over your shift, like they brought you back, you can modify the method according to your wishes.

It's a short and sweet method, believe in your abilities and you'll be out of here faster than lightning.

...

This method is heavily focused on visualizing, if you have aphantasia then your DR SP can just speak to you, when you eventually cross over to your DR self's state of mind (if they can visualize) you'll get the ability to visualize like them, or get flashes of images.

...

Also thanks for everyone who gave me compliments in my inbox I have no clue how to receive them, but I am very grateful (:

[donat-senpai]

I enjoy ur Moamao x reader x jinshi series! I would love a part 3!

Hi, sunshine. Thank you! Appreciate the feedback 💙 (I haven’t replied to requests this fast in a while lmao). Part 3 is ready :3

Yandere!Maomao X Reader X Yandere!Jinshi Please don't read this if you are uncomfortable with the yandere! tw: Jealousy (nothing special anymore) I think this time, more attention was given to Jenshi. I'll try to write about Maomao next time. She's a sunshine and also deserves her happy time with the reader! (ﾉ･ω･)ﾉ

Part one, Part two, Part three

Minute of glory

— You want me to take part in the play? — you ask Jinshi in complete confusion. A thought creeps into your mind: has he lost his mind? As if agreeing with your thoughts, he gives you a confirming nod.

— You know I was assigned to organize the play. This performance is extremely important because the order comes almost directly from the Emperor. Everything has to be perfect. After all, it's a gift from the Emperor to the entire harem. There are only a couple of days left before the performance, but something happened that we weren’t prepared for. A few actors fell ill. Their roles are minor, but still crucial. We can't just remove them from the script, — Jinshi patiently explains the situation while your brain struggles to process it. He looks truly exhausted and tense. Organizing the event must have drained him. You start to feel a bit sorry for him, yet you still can't understand why he came to you with such a request.

— Just replace them with other actors.

— That’s impossible. All the actors are already involved, — Jinshi glanced at Gaoshun, who immediately joined the conversation.

— We also considered casting one of the concubines for the role, but one of the Emperor’s requirements was to keep the play’s storyline a secret until the main performance. We’re not sure whether the chosen concubine would be able to maintain that secrecy.

After Gaoshun’s words, things became a little clearer. You exchanged glances with Maomao. She had been quietly listening the whole time, stirring a mixture with a wooden spoon.

Jinshi took your hand in his and pressed it against his chest. The spoon in Maomao’s hand let out a desperate crack.

— Please, don’t refuse. I don’t know anyone else suited for this role whom I trust as much as you. I promise, everything will go smoothly. I’ll be right there with you. All we need to do is step onto the stage and perform a short dialogue. There’s still time before the performance. We can rehearse, — with each sentence, Jinshi moved closer. You barely noticed, too distracted by your own anxiety.

Performing in such an important play, in front of everyone—it was nerve-wracking. Oh, Emperor! What if you forgot your lines? But Jinshi was so serious, so certain that he would be by your side. Surely, he would help if anything went wrong. Your heart slowly softened. You wanted to help him.

— What’s the role?

— Lovers.

His answer struck like thunder in a clear sky. A loud crack echoed in the room. The poor spoon — it seems to have broken. You cursed internally. You should have suggested Maomao for the role instead. Such a golden opportunity, wasted.

---

You stand on an improvised stage set up in one of the large halls. A couple of eunuchs are busy checking the props. The main cast has gone on a lunch break. Jinshi said that the two of you should practice a few times on your own before joining the final rehearsal with everyone else later today.

Tense, you try to discreetly wipe your sweaty palms on your skirt. You can’t even imagine how you’re supposed to act. You’ve never experienced anything like this before. Unfortunately, no one thought to teach you acting skills between rounds of physical labor. The harem really should reconsider its system.

Right now, you’d gladly trade places with Maomao — not just for the sake of her and Jinshi’s bright future, but for your own peace of mind. You cast a helpless glance at the makeshift audience area. Maomao gives you an encouraging smile, trying to cheer you up. Gaoshun nods approvingly and gives you a thumbs-up. Your attention shifts back to Jinshi, who is patiently waiting. He’s too kind to pressure you, letting you take your time. You promised to help. There’s no turning back now.

Blushing slightly and taking a deep breath, you finally begin to say your lines.

— Ah, my beloved! Is fate not cruel? We come from different worlds! — you sigh dramatically, crossing your arms over your chest.

— Fate? I won’t let destiny decide for us! — With a sly smile, the man takes your hand and leans in, his lips almost brushing against your fingers.

To your surprise, Jinshi slips into his role effortlessly, as if he’s been acting his whole life. Watching his confident performance, you start to relax, feeling a little bolder.

— But what will people say?! What will my father say?! — You pull your hand away, turning your back to him, clenching your fists. Jinshi gently turns you back toward him, reaching for your chin and tilting your face up.

— Let them say what they will… You are all I need.

Maomao, watching the rehearsal, takes a hurried sip of tea, trying to hide the nervous twitch on her face. Was this cursed scene supposed to be this intense?

She knew. She felt it. No actor had actually fallen ill. That wretched eunuch had planned everything from the very start.

— Then… then kiss me, if your feelings are true! — you said, your lips trembling.

Jinshi smiles broadly and slowly leans in closer, enjoying the way Maomao grips her cup tighter. Gaoshun nervously swallows. It seemed like, any moment now, the apothecary might start killing. At the last second, you place your palm on Jinshi's face and suddenly pull back.

— No! I can't! — you cry out dramatically.

Maomao exhales in relief. Jinshi laughs, throwing a brief glance at her. With feigned regret, he delivers the final line.

— What a pity… I really tried so hard.

The eunuchs, who had abandoned their work somewhere during your rehearsal, suddenly clap. They enthusiastically mention that the passion between the lovers was played out so convincingly. Encouraged by their praise, you bow to them gratefully. As you finish, Jinshi places his hand on your shoulder.

— You did wonderfully… So, shall we do it again?

You mentally apologize to Maomao, feeling regret. How did it happen that you stole her shining moment? A crack of glass is heard. The poor cup… It seems to have broken.

[jayybugg]

always been you

Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Reader based on Always Been You by Chris Grey

Summary: Breaking things off should be easy.....right?

Warnings: Smut, Language, maybe a little angsty?? Not really sure. Mattheo is a little mean, but not to you.

Word Count: 3.2K

Music:

Note: I love writing fics based on songs. Probably one of my favorite things to do, I actually wrote this in June, right before my birthday, but my computer crashed, and that file got lost. I prefer this version of it better, though, so I think it was the better. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, enjoy!

Banner by @cafekitsune

You crossed my mind, a few miles ago, turned on your street, thinking I’m headed home

Mattheo chucked the butt of his cigarette to the ground as he walked through the empty corridors of the castle. Unaware of his location, he turned the corner to be met with steep stairs that he knew led to your common house door.

He narrowed his eyes at the dark path in front of him. His feet and heart were begging and urging him to continue. To get to your door, to see you, to touch you, to hear your voice. If Mattheo could smack himself, he would. He was supposed to be going to his dorm to meet some blonde chick he flirted with at a party weeks ago. A distraction, he was supposed to be going to see his distraction.

Yet, here he was, unconsciously going to you like some lost puppy who couldn’t bear to be without his owner. Mattheo continued to glare at the path before scoffing and turning away to make his way to his dorm. Ignoring the pang in his heart, he slipped another cigarette out of the pack and lit it.

How pathetic…. all this over a stupid girl.

It’s late in the night, I hope you’re alone, and nobody is there holding you close, and I tried to love again, now I’m right back at your door

He couldn’t help it. You were plaguing his mind like some disease.

Even as he gripped the hips and thrust into the blonde from behind, his mind still wandered to you. He thought about what you could be doing at this moment. Were you up reading those stupid romance books that you liked so much? Or were you watching some scripted reality show that you always gossiped about with Pansy? Or maybe you were cuddled up with some fucker like some lame-ass couple?

Or worse, instead of being laid up, what if you were in the same position as this blonde? Were you with some other guy? Letting him fuck you? Letting him get a taste of what belonged to Mattheo?

It was the small yelp of pain from the blonde that brought Mattheo back to reality. His grip was brutal on the small girl’s hips, a bruise already forming in its wake. Mattheo loosened his grip, but his pace increased, fast and rough as if he was trying fuck his anger out on the poor girl who had no idea what was going on in his mind.

“M-Matty-” The blonde moaned out. If Mattheo wasn’t thinking about you, then he was definitely thinking about you now at the use of your nickname for him. He muttered, “Don’t call me that.” Another sharp thrust making her moan, caused him to speak again, “And shut the fuck up. Your moans are annoying.”

That’s how Mattheo’s days carried on. Forcing himself not to go to you at all hours of the day and fucking anybody to get you out of his mind.

Was it working?

Not really, but Mattheo was beyond the point of actually giving a fuck. He needed to let you go; he had to let you go. Especially because he was the one who ended the friends-with-benefits arrangement, despite knowing all that, Mattheo didn’t stop watching you. His eyes were on you whenever he had the chance to. Drinking in your figure, your face, your everything.

“Merlin, you look like the biggest creep around. Stop staring at her like you want to eat her alive.” Theo’s voice broke Mattheo’s trance. His dark brown eyes met his friend’s deep blue ones as he took a seat next to him and lit a cigarette.

“I don’t want to eat her alive.” Yes, he does. Anything to have you remotely close to him. “And I don’t look like a creep, and I wasn’t even staring at her.” Mattheo scoffed, folding his arms as he leaned against one of the pillars in the Clocktower Courtyard.

“Yeah, right.” Theo snorted, blowing his smoke, “Why’d you even break it off with her? Thought shit was going well for you both?”

“Too attached,” Mattheo said curtly. Luckily for Mattheo, he didn’t specify which one of them was getting too attached because, truth be told, it wasn’t you that got attached, it was him.

Theo didn’t speak again, giving Mattheo a small noise of acknowledgment. Mattheo’s eyes focused back on you as you laughed with your friends. A small frown tethered on his lips as he watched you. Why the fuck were you so happy? Why aren’t you drowning in misery like he is?

You seemed so unbothered by the fact that Mattheo had broken things off with you. Almost as if you never cared, and it made Mattheo’s blood boil because all he could think about was you.

That’s why he came to your dorm. He needed to know how you forgot about him so quickly. He needed you to teach him. He knocked on your door loud enough that if you were in your dorm, then you heard him.

The door flung open to reveal you to Mattheo. His eyes didn’t hesitate to trail down your body before meeting your eyes. “What the fuck are you doing?” Mattheo asked gruffly.

You raised an eyebrow at him, obviously trying to understand the boy’s audacity. “What are you doing here, Mattheo?”

For the first time in his life, Mattheo didn’t have an answer.

I know in the end, it’s always been you, you, oh, I got everything to lose, you, it’s always been you

Your eyes stayed trained on Mattheo; he felt like his heart would be ripped out of his chest if he stood in front of you any longer. Without any words, Mattheo turned on his heels and walked away from your door. He felt your eyes follow him until he was out of your sight.

He didn’t understand why he couldn’t answer you. When did it become so difficult to get what he wanted? What did he even want?

You.

He wanted you. Deep down, he knew that. His friends knew it, your friends knew it, and the whole school probably knew it. The only person who probably didn’t know it was you because, in your eyes, Mattheo was the emotionless prick who couldn’t settle down to save his life.

Mattheo wasn’t used to having nice things. Everything came at a price for him. He couldn’t, and maybe wouldn’t, wrap his head around the idea that you want him for nothing in exchange for his love. He could never bring himself to care about anyone outside of his friends, but you somehow crawled your pretty ass into his heart and plagued him every moment he wasn’t with you.

You’re just fucking attached, Mattheo, it’s pathetic.

The voice in his head sounded eerily like his father. He hated it; he hated it more than he hated how infectious you were to him. He reached into his pocket once he reached the courtyard, the cold air of night pinching his face as he pulled out a cigarette. He lit it, inhaling, then exhaling in a shaky breath.

What the fuck was wrong with him? He has never been so torn up about a girl like this before. He knew he wanted you, but what about you did he want?

Did he want your corny jokes? The ones you would tell him every morning, the ones that never failed to gain a snort from him.

Or maybe he wanted your pretty smile? That same pretty smile that he envisioned every time he closed his eyes. The same smile that made his heart flutter weirdly whenever he saw it. The same smile that made him jealous whenever he saw it directed at anyone other than him.

Or was it your voice? Merlin, your voice. So soft and sultry. Always said his name so sweetly, even when you were annoyed at him for some reason. Your voice that lets out the prettiest moans for him when he had you on your back with your legs prompted on his shoulders.

Mattheo groaned, rubbing his temples from the pending headache that always came when he thought too hard about you, which was all the time. He threw his cigarette down, crushing the lit cherry of it under his boot. He made his way to the Slytherin dorms, looking for his next distraction.

Staring eye to eye, I can’t look away, spent so much time apart, still nothing’s changed

Mattheo was once again staring into your eyes. He was drowning in them as you plopped into the seat across from him in the Transfiguration classroom. His eyes followed every moment of yours, from your hands that opened your notebook to your plump lips that moved as you spoke.

You were speaking. You were speaking to him.

He blinked as he registered your voice, the sound making his heart jump and his cock twitch. A weird combination, but a combination that made sense for him. You frowned at him, your eyes unamused by the lack of attention that you were receiving from the curly, brown-headed boy. “Are you even listening to me, Riddle?” You crossed your arms, your eyes narrowed accusingly.

Merlin, her eyes were so fucking pretty. “Since when do you call me ‘Riddle’?” Mattheo licked his lips as he finally spoke. You scoffed, slamming your hands down on the table. “Is that all you can respond to? If you can’t focus or won’t focus, I’ll tell McGonagall to switch us for the project.”

“No!” Mattheo rushed out, “I can focus. I promise.”

That was a fucking lie.

Mattheo couldn’t focus at all. Not when he sat in your dorm for the first time since he ended things with you. It was overwhelming, from your scent to the closeness of you two on your bed. The only thing running through Mattheo’s mind was pushing you back on the bed and diving his head between your legs to taste you.

He was trying, Merlin, he was, but he just couldn’t. Not when you were in front of him in spandex shorts that made your ass look so good and a tank top that revealed that you had no bra on. Were you trying to torture him? Some sort of sick punishment for how he went about ending things?

He exhaled loudly, causing your eyes to snap up to him in a slight look of annoyance. “If you don’t want to do this, then you can leave. Nobody is forcing you to be here.” You said.

Is that what you thought he was thinking about right now? Leaving you? As if.

“Nobody is annoyed, doll.” He said, “Trust me.”

He met your eyes, the room suddenly intensifying around them. Your eyes darted across his face as if you were trying to pick out the lie in his features. “Right.” You muttered.

A silence took over the room as you both continued to stare at each other. Mattheo’s heart was beating out of his chest. He just wanted to lean over and kiss you. He wanted to hear you whisper his name in his ear. He wanted you.

Fuck it.

I find nirvana inside of your love, baby girl, nobody was enough, oh, I tried to love again but a part of me was yours

Mattheo’s lips crashed against yours, expecting you to immediately push him away, but much to his surprise, you kissed him back. He moaned at the simple feeling of your lips against his. The murkiness in his mind had cleared, with you being the only thing on his mind.

He pushed you back on the bed, lips still attached as he felt his body and heart become whole again. He had been suffering for months when all he needed to do was kiss you. He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your jaw to your neck as his hands slipped under your tank top to cup your breasts.

“Mattheo.” You whispered. A groan involuntarily fell from Mattheo’s mouth when he heard it as he continued to kiss down your collarbone, his fingers massaging your hardened nipples. “Mattheo.” You whispered again, “We shouldn’t-”

“No.” Mattheo breathed out against your shoulder. His curls hid his dark eyes from you as his fingers pinched your nipples. A small yelp filled the air as Mattheo planted a kiss on your shoulder. “I don’t care if you kick me out right after or punch me for whatever reason. I don’t care. I want this; I need this.” He whispered.

He sat up, his eyes meeting yours once again. There was nothing but lust, honesty, and vulnerability swirling in them. You blinked up at him before nodding slowly. “Okay.”

Mattheo didn’t waste any more time. Mainly because he was so desperate but also because he was scared if he waited a second longer, you would change your mind. He lifted your shirt up, pulling it over your head, and throwing it to some unknown part of your room. His lips latched onto your left nipple, his hands traveling past the waistband of your shorts. He whined, he fucking whined, when he felt that you had no underwear on. “You’re fucking torturing me, doll.” He mumbled, moving to give your right nipple the same amount of attention.

“I didn’t...I didn’t do anything.” You whimpered, a soft gasp following as two of his fingers slid into you with ease. Mattheo came back up, his eyes meeting yours, his lips only inches from yours as his fingers plunged deeper into you with each thrust. Your moans were hitting his lips like a hit of ecstasy. “That’s the fucking problem.” He mumbled.

His fingers curled inside of you, your back arching, and a loud whine from you as a result. “You have been torturing me for these past few months, and you don’t even know.” He mumbled, “It’s fucking ridiculous.”

“M-Mattheo...”

“Stop calling me that.” Mattheo demanded, pulling his fingers out of you and your shorts. He ignored your whine as he yanked your shorts down, throwing them in the same direction as your tank top.

He scooted down, pushing your thighs apart to further reveal your leaking pussy to him. Another moan fell from him as he ran a finger down your folds, gathering some of your wetness up. He lifted his finger to his mouth, sucking it lightly. Your eyes were trained on him as you let out a sound that Mattheo couldn’t quite identify. “Mattheo is your name.” You finally gathered enough brain power to respond.

“Not to you. You know what I want you to call me.” He mumbled. Mattheo leaned in, running his tongue down your folds. You let out a loud moan, your hands flying to his hair. “Y-You said you hated the nickname ‘Matty’.” You whispered, your eyes fluttering close.

“I want to hear it.” Mattheo said, blowing on your clit, causing a shiver to run down your body. He licked down your folds again, this time faster, as he looked up at you. “Open your eyes, doll. Open your eyes and say my name.” He whispered, swirling his tongue around your clit before sucking on it lightly.

Your moans were uncontrollable at this point, and you had no choice but to obey his wish. “Matty.” You breathed out, “Fuck, Matty...”

A smile graced his face as he pulled away, pushing his two fingers back into you. “That’s my good slut. Always did know how to follow directions.” He whispered. His lips reattached to your clit, sucking lightly and swirling his tongue around it.

Your moans filled the room as your fingers tightly gripped his hair. He wasn’t going to stop until he ripped an orgasm from you. He would die if he didn’t get you to cum on his tongue. “I know you’re close, doll. Don’t hold out on me, please. Cum on my tongue, I need it.”

You whined as you held his head closer to your clit, your orgasm leaking onto his tongue. He licked it up eagerly, pleased to clean up the pretty mess that he had made. When he sat up, he yanked his shirt off, following his sweatpants and boxers. He watched as your eyes seemed glued to cock, hard and already desperately leaking with pre-cum. Mattheo climbed back on top of you, holding the shaft of his cock as he ran it up and down your folds.

“You’re soaked.” He whispered against your lips, his forehead pressed against yours, “Did you miss me?”

You took a deep breath. “What does it matter? You...You wouldn’t care regardless.”

You thought he didn’t care? If he wasn’t in the middle of sinking his cock inside of you, he probably would have given you a serious response. Instead, all that tumbled out his mouth was, “Just answer me.”

He pushed his cock into you, a groan escaping his lips. “I missed you.” He whispered, “If that makes any difference in your answer.”

He moved his hips slowly, hitting deep inside of you. The act of it all was sensual, intimate. As if Mattheo was trying to make this moment last as long as possible. Your soft moans brushed against his lips, causing his heartbeat to race. “You should miss me.” You whispered, “You’re the one who ended things.”

He was. Merlin, he was the idiot who ended things. “I know.” He whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Mattheo gave her a deep thrust, getting a moan in return. He kissed her jaw, his hips moving a bit faster but keeping a deep pace. “I’m an idiot. I’m sorry.” He repeated in your ear. “I’ve missed your pretty self, doll. So fucking much.”

Mattheo didn’t know what was taking over him. The feeling of being inside you again, or if the intimacy of it all was making his true feelings spill out.

“Matty.” You whispered. His hips moved with more urgency as if he was trying to fuck his remorse into you. “I mean it, doll.” He whispered, “I’m fucking sorry and I’ve fucking missed you.”

You tightened around him, making his moan in your ear. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I just....fuck, doll.” Mattheo mumbled, his words spilling out quickly. He was so drunk, on you, on your love, on your pussy. His thrusts were getting sloppy, and you were clenching around more and more. “Cum with me, doll. Please. I fucking need it.” Mattheo pleaded.

You met his eyes, nodding. “I am, Matty... I am.” You said.

Your moans mixed with his groans as you both came together. His seed filled you as your juices coated his cock and soaked the sheets underneath. Mattheo pressed his lips to yours, passionately and desperately.

I know in the end, it’s always been you, you, oh, I got everything to lose, you, it always, been you

It all made sense to Mattheo now.

With your head lying on his chest as your light snores filled your room, Mattheo’s mind was clearer than it had been in the past few months. He was attached. That was the only answer.

He wasn’t just attached to you. He was obsessed and in love with you.

Mattheo couldn’t hide it or deny it to himself anymore, and he honestly didn’t want to. There was no point in doing that. The only person he had to convince was you.

It had always been you. Always.

[theroundbartable]

Arthur is stuck in a time loop.

At first, he doesn't really notice it, since every day feels the same anyway. It's Merlin's good morning that irks him, however, because Merlin tends to switch up the routine a lot. When then the topic of the court meeting is the same, Arthur knows what's up.

In loop three, he asks Gaius for help and the man explains that only a powerful sorcerer could do such a thing and that he'd need strong magic to break it.

The next morning, everything is forgotten. And Arthur researches on his own what's happening. He spends days at the library until one day, he's just really tired.

And so, he stays in bed for a couple days, and lets Merlin complain for hours. It's soozing in an odd way. As days go by, Arthur gets bolder. He approaches Merlin in broad sunlight, hands him food or flowers in front of people and receiving odd stares.

Arthur waits for Merlin's reactions and they seem rather hesitant if also positive. Yet, when Arthur finally gathers up the courage to confess, Merlin rejects him.

Arthur spends another few loops in bed, while Merlin no longer carries any memories of the incident. Arthur then asks Gaius dejectedly who the most powerful sorcerer is he knows.

And Gaius says Emrys and tells him the man lives in the woods, a two day march from Camelot. Arthur loses hope. One loop equals a day. He'd never make it. That is IF the man is even there.

On loop xy, Arthur asks Gaius again, during a different time of day, where Emrys lives. And Gaius answers: about half a day ride north, Sire.

Arthur is confused. That doesn't make sense. Why would Gaius say something different than last time? Gaius was clearly part of the loop! Unless he's lying. And each time he lied he just said the first thing that came to mind.

Arthur stops avoiding Merlin at one point and accepts that Merlin won't respond to his feelings. So, he approaches him and tries to discuss magic issues with him. While Merlin warns him of magic like read from a script, Arthur argues positive aspects. Because he's trying to talk himself into turning to magic to maybe manage to save himself if he trained himself in the arts. Even if it takes years of the timeloop.

Unprompted, Merlin hugs him tight and looks at him with so much affection that Arthur is sure Merlin likes him.

Needless to day, Arthur is more than confused. And Arthur notices another thing. Both Merlin and Gaius react differently to him, depending on how he talks. If he's positive about magic, they are eager to help. Merlin looks most carefree then. And almost like he wants to ... Well, what exactly?

One loop, Arthur tests the theorie: Merlin, I'm going to lift the magic ban.

Merlin stops in his tracks and stares at Arthur. Arthur repeats himself, nervous of the response. Almost more nervous than he was when he got rejected.

Arthur: merlin?

Merlin: why

Arthur: because magic isn't as evil as my father had me believe.

Merlin: is this a trick?

Arthur: a trick? No. I just understand now that sometimes magic is needed. And I need magic right now. *Explains situation*

Merlin: ... arthur, i don't know how many timeloops you've been through

Arthur: you believe me? Uhhhh... 200, probably

Merlin: ... I can help you

Arthur: how?

Merlin: because I'm emrys

[pippin-katz]

Why Did Charles Keep Asking About Edwin's Conversation With The Cat King?

I was reading a fic where Edwin agrees to the Cat King's initial offer, but because time passes differently in whatever room that is, he's gone for six weeks even though it was a couple hours for him, and it got me thinking. I worked out why Charles was so pushy about that conversation.

Charles and Edwin have been together for 30 years. The way they act gives me the feeling that they spent very little time apart, and wherever one went, the other went too. In the fic, Edwin's inner monologue refers to it as "shared memories"; they experience everything together.

But now, there's this.

Edwin disappeared for hours on Charles' side of things. He had this conversation with a magical being, a stranger that sets off warning bells in Charles' head. He came back with a magical bracelet that trapped him in Port Townsend, that he couldn't remove, and something about his behavior was off.

Charles is not stupid or oblivious. He reads Edwin like a book, albeit with blurry text. He knows something is not quite right, but doesn't know what. And he knows it's because of whatever happened in the few hours that he wasn't with him.

For what is likely the first time in 30 years, Edwin has experienced/done something significant without him. Charles is in the dark; he wasn't there to see or hear what happened for himself. All he has to go on is what Edwin tells him, and he gets the immediate feeling that he's not saying everything.

When talking about it in front of Crystal, he just asks if he said anything else, but once they're alone in their office, he's direct.

Charles is absolutely (and correctly) sure that Edwin hasn't told him the real/full truth about his meeting with the Cat King, and tells him as much.

The way he asks feels... calm? Crystal's not there, they're alone, they're in their safe space, why wouldn't Edwin tell him? He probably thinks he would, but obviously, he doesn't. He lets a detail slip that confuses and concerns him even more; the Cat King whispering in his ear. That confirms very close proximity between them, something that's potentially dangerous and something he knows Edwin doesn't particularly like, and Charles is just... lost, uncomfortable, and frustrated.

Can you imagine how maddening that must have been? To not know what really happened? To only have vague descriptions of the events from his friend? To see and know that something is wrong with him, but being unable to truly help because he's clueless as to what the actual problem is?

It's highly likely that this is the first time Charles has ever encountered this.

As Edwin says, he's "fixated" on this. It's like there's a page missing in his copy of the script of events. He's never had to worry about it before; he was always there with him. Edwin says it's not a big deal, but Charles can't make that call himself. It's not that he doesn't trust Edwin; it's his protectiveness of him. He wants to see and assess the situation for himself. He wants to be positive there's no danger, that it meets his standards. He needs to know everything about where Edwin is, what he's doing, who he's with, at all times, so he can be ready to protect him.

As Jayden put it, Charles has given himself the mantle of Edwin's guardian. Edwin dedicates all his time and energy into helping others, to the point of neglecting himself. In response, Charles dedicates himself to Edwin. If he won't take care of himself, if no one else is going to help him, Charles will. As he says in Hell when he's rescuing Edwin, "Someone's gotta do it."

(ko-fi)

[hrrtshape]

how was your first shift?? like what method do you use, how it happened, everything ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა !!

so i think i’ve said this before, maybe once, maybe twice, maybe a hundred times in the fever dream of my own self-mythologising, but my first shift was in 2022. or thereabouts......

time is a construct, and mine was largely spent pacing the hallways of my own delusion. anyway.

i’d known about shifting for two years, theoretically, the way one knows about quantum mechanics or the stock market, conceptually intriguing, completely incomprehensible. but i had drs, i had scripts, i had the desperate fervour. i was, to put it plainly, prepared. but not at all because yes i did not know anything. i didn't even know HOW to shift lmadjwoeijfwiuqrhefiuw

this, unfortunately, coincided with the most catastrophic captain america phase of all time. nomad steve rogers, infinity war, bearded and burdened. i had a whole theology about it. i had doctrine. i was in the trenches of tumblr, up to my knees in fanfiction filth, a card-carrying member of the ‘i got a blog solely to read steve rogers smut’ community. it was a dark time. i was a dark person.

so. my first shift. the setting: my bed. the method: lying there like a victorian child awaiting death. the execution: i whispered affirmations into my pillow like it was my war bride leaving for the front lines. and listen. shut up. don’t even look at me. i’m embarrassed just recounting it. but i was so deeply committed to the bit that i kept going, kept whispering, kept acting as if i was already there, like a performer with no audience, just me and the gaping maw of the universe.

then, suddenly. a heartbeat. in the pillow. like, a heartbeat. dum dum dum dum (right??). and i swear,,,,, i swear, someone stroked my hair. a completely unprecedented, metaphysical head pat. it was insane. it was illegal. it was unhinged. but i didn’t open my eyes, because that would’ve ruined the dramaturgy of the moment. so i just laid there, basking in the warmth of my own insanity, until eventually, inevitably, i opened my eyes.

and i was back in my room.

wild.

or wait. do you mean my first actual shift, like, longer than twenty minutes, longer than the average lifespan of a fruit fly, something with narrative weight

[fantasydreamland]

Bound To You

aemond targaryen x fem reader

Summary: You visit King’s Landing with your family and after an unexpected reunion with Aemond everything changes. What happens when your family finally discovers you are bound to their enemy?

Notes: 18+ ONLY!!! Smuttt, LOTS of angst, fluff, enemies to lovers kinda, forbidden love, loss of virginity, p in v, oral (m&f), targcest, violence/abuse, abusive father, pregnancy, pregnant sx, child birth, birth complications, mentions of death, definite show spoilers, some script from the show, the negativity towards team black is purely for the story, happy ending.

Word count: 10.2k (i need therapy)

masterlist

taglist

You arrive with your family in Kings Landing after your journey from Dragonstone. You could tell your stepmother Rhaenerya was annoyed that the queen herself had not come to welcome you all.

You were the daughter of Daemon and Rhea, his first wife. Your father and mother despised eachother and you knew deep down he was somehow responsible for her death. A skilled rider like her does not just have accidents like that. Your father always felt extremely distant from you, he probably loathed the fact that you were even born from that loveless hateful marriage. On top of that, you felt cursed to have gotten his golden hair and not your mother’s brown hair. It made you look even more like your father and also stand out even more next to your dark haired stepbrothers. You had been forced to move around with your father between his marriages with Laena and now Rhaenyra. Although Rhaenyra has been fairly kind to you, you have always felt like the outsider of the family, an unwanted child, an ever lasting reminder of Daemon’s first wife.

Daemon and Rhaenyra part with you to visit the king in his chambers so you follow your stepbrothers to the training grounds where you find Aemond sparring with Ser Criston Cole. You watch as Jace and Luke exchanged worried glances. You may not have been around for most of it but you remember the rivalry that has always been there between your brothers and Aemond. Luke had been the one to take Aemond’s eye, accident or no, that is not something easily forgiven or forgotten. You would never say it in front of your family but you never thought badly of Aemond for hating your stepbrothers, it felt well deserved.

You watch the way Aemond moves, dancing around Ser Criston as he tries to strike him. Aemond pulls a final perfect move that ends with his sword against Cole’s throat.

“Well done, my prince.” Ser Criston says to Aemond. “You will be winning tourneys in no time.”

“I don’t give a shit about tourneys.” Aemond responds. “Nephews, have you come to train?” His intense stare falls to Jace and Luke before landing on you. Your brothers just roll their eyes at him before leaving the grounds, earning a cocky smirk from Aemond. You follow behind them off the training pitch before parting ways and heading to the balcony overlooking the grounds.

You hang around as Aemond continues training, trying not to seem too obvious as you watch him. His movements were smooth and mesmerizing, he looked like a dancer with his golden hair swaying gracefully with each of his strikes. It was hard to take your eyes off him. Once you notice him putting his weapons away you decide to go and find your chambers.

“(Y/n)!” You hear Aemond call your name from down the hallway you were exiting.

You turn as he catches up to you. Once you’re standing in front of him you realize just how tall he has gotten. He smelled so good, how can he smell so good right after all that training and sweating? His natural scent was intoxicating. He smiles down at you so you smile back up at him. Gods, he has gotten so handsome.

“Yes, my prince?” You ask.

“Did you enjoy watching me train?” He smirks.

“I- I was watching everyone train.” Your cheeks turn red.

“Sure.” His smirk grows, making you blush more.

“You train well.” You say to break the brief silence.

“Thank you, princess. May I just say… you have really grown up.” He looks you up and down, taking in your womanly curves and full breasts.

Your heart suddenly races and you feel an unfamiliar feeling in your stomach, but lower.

“Thank you, my prince. As have you.” You say as you try not to stare at his sharp jawline or strong looking arms. Wondering what those arms would feel like around you.

You felt increasingly shy by the minute talking to Aemond, which was very odd for you because you were much like your mother, who was bold and headstrong. But Aemond made your strong head feel like a million butterflies were fluttering around up there as well as inside your stomach.

“I have to go and rejoin my family but I will see you later?” You say as you begin to turn to leave.

“I look forward to it, princess.” Aemond bows to you with a smile.

Truthfully, you had all the free time in the world at the moment. Your father and stepmother busy visiting the king and the gods only know where Jace and Luke wandered off to. But you needed to leave Aemond’s presence right away because the overwhelming sexual tension between you was becoming very dangerous.

Your head is completely in the clouds thinking of Aemond, causing you to nearly crash right into your stepbrother.

“Jace! Sorry, please forgive me.”

“What was that all about?” He asks.

“What are you talking about?” You raise a brow at him.

“I saw you speaking with Aemond.” He says firmly.

“So?” You scowl.

“So? It looked like a pretty friendly conversation, I have never seen Aemond smile at anyone like that.” He rambles in an angry tone. “And I have never seen you look at anyone like that, sister. So, as I said… what was that all about?”

“We were just talking Jace, calm down. You’re blowing this way out of proportion.” Annoyed, you shrug him off and continue down the hallway.

**********

With your family busy with their own things you become increasingly bored in your room. You decide to find a book from the small bookshelf in your chambers and make your way to the gardens. You curl up to the large tree and become deeply invested in your book, so much so that you don’t notice someone walking towards you until you look up to see Aemond towering over you.

“Aemond!” You startle as you make your way to stand.

“Forgive me for interrupting you, princess.” He gestures his eye to your book.

“Not at all.” You smile. “It was either find something to read or die of boredom before supper.”

He chuckles at your joke and you smile shyly in response.

“What are you reading?” He asks.

“Oh, um, nothing really.” You blush.

You tuck the book behind you and he arches his brow in question.

“Ugh, alright... It’s just a silly romance story.” You sigh as you pull the book out from behind your back.

“A romance, hmm?” He smirks. “So you enjoy that sort of thing?”

“Yes, I suppose… like most woman do.” Your blush deepens.

“And have you…” He hesitates. “…had any of your own romance stories?”

Your loud laugh catches him off guard and you quickly change to a serious expression.

“Forgive me, my prince. Um, no. I have not had anything of the sort.” You admit.

“Why not? It seems like something you clearly want. And I am almost certain there must have been plenty of suitors who have thrown themselves at you…” He says as he looks you up and down seductively.

“Of course it is something I want. And I have had a few interested suitors in the past. I just… have not found a man worthy enough of me.” You shrug.

“I see.” He says, his smirk remaining.

Aemond walks you back to your chambers and the conversation between you was surprisingly comfortable the entire walk. You bond over both being the family outcast or the “black sheep”, you both had much harder childhoods than your siblings. The sparks between you were undeniable. You realized your stepbrother was right, you have never looked at anyone like this, or felt like this towards anyone. But Aemond was off limits, not only was he family but you knew your parents, especially your stepmother, greatly disliked Aemond because of the history with him and her own sons. Even just thinking of him that way feels forbidden.

**********

The entire royal family all join together for supper, the tension in the room high. King Viserys joins the room and gives you all a heartfelt speech about your family rivalries.

“It both gladdens my heart and fills me with sorrow to see these faces around the table. The faces most dear to me in all the world. Yet grown so distant from eachother, in the years past.” Viserys begins.

He removes the gold plated mask on his face that had been covering the horrible effects of his illness.

“My own face is no longer a handsome one, if indeed it ever was… But tonight I wish you to see me as I am. Not just a king, but your father, your brother, your husband, and your grandsire, who may not it seems… walk for much longer among you.

Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts. The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. Set aside your grievances. If not for the sake of the crown, then for the sake of this old man who loves you all, so dearly.” He says passionately, choking back tears.

His speech triggers heart warming and emotional toasts from Rhaenyra to Alicent, and Alicent to Rhaenyra, stating she will make a fine queen. The tension between them begins to fade and the mood of the entire room begins to lift as everyone drinks to the toasts.

Until there is some added tension when Aegon gets up and walks over to pour more wine into his glass, muttering something to Baela, Jace’s newly betrothed. Knowing Aegon you assume it was something vulgar. Especially when your stepbrother Jacaerys slams his fist on the table and stands. He composes himself and suddenly Aemond also stands. The room stills for a long moment as they eye eachother down. Jace proceeds to make a polite yet cocky toast to your uncles, Aegon and Aemond.

“Well done, my boy.” King Viserys says to Jace.

Aemond sighs and sits back down, you could feel the anger radiating from him. Your brothers always seem to enjoy getting him riled up. You had to resist the strong urge to place your hand on his. Instead, you offer him a sweet smile and his lips curl up for only a brief moment before his hard exterior was painted on his face again.

Music plays and you all enjoy the beginning of supper, everyone happy and laughing with eachother. You chatted mostly to Aemond who didn’t speak much but seemed content to listen to you. It did not go unnoticed by your brother Jace but he chose to ignore it. The air in the room feels lighter as all of the tension fades away. After a short time, King Viserys is brought back to bed due to his pain flaring up.

The music continues and more food is brought to the table. You watch as a roast pig is placed directly in front of Aemond, your eyes shoot to your brother Luke who is already smirking and chuckling at Aemond. Before you even have a second to think, Aemond’s fist slams onto the table and startles you.

“Final tribute.” Aemond says as he stands holding up his cup, the music stopping and the tension suddenly filing the air again. “To the health of my nephews… Jace… Luke… and Joffrey.”

He looks to your stepbrothers who are glaring at him in return.

“Each of them handsome, wise…” Aemond pauses.

You try to meet his eye with your desperate pleading ones, knowing exactly what he was about to say.

“…Strong.” Aemond states.

“Aemond-“ Alicent tries.

“Come!” Aemond talks over her. “Let us drain our cups to these three strong boys.”

“I dare you to say that again.” Jacaerys challenges.

“Why? Twas only a compliment.” Aemond walks up to Jace. “Do you not think yourself strong?”

It all happens in a flash, Jacaerys throwing his fist at Aemond, Aemond taking the punch to the face with a smirk before shoving Jace to the floor. Aegon starts his own fight with Luke. Now everyone is standing, including yourself, as the guards pull back your brothers.

“Why would you say such a thing before these people?” Alicent demands to Aemond.

“I was merely expressing how proud of my family mother.” He says, yanking his arm out of her grasp. “Mm, though it seems my nephews aren’t quite as proud of theirs.”

Jacaerys tries to charge at Aemond again before Daemon intervenes and Jace steps back.

“Go to your quarters.” Rhaenyra orders the younger people, including yourself. “All of you go, now.”

You are last to leave as you watch your father and Aemond stare eachother down.

**********

With everything going on no one even notices you leave the group as you rush to Aemond’s chambers. Once you reach his door you knock loudly.

“Leave me be!” You hear Aemond call on the other side of the door.

“Aemond, it’s me. (Y/n).” You call through the door.

You hear nothing but silence for a long moment and get a sinking feeling thinking he is just as mad at you as everyone else. Until the door opens and he slowly peers out from behind it.

“What do you want?” He says dryly, causing a strange ache in your chest.

“I wanted to check you were alright.”

“Why?”

“I- uh, because Aemond… my brothers were horrible and I am so sorry for the way they behave sometimes. They can be so bloody… arrogant.”

You see a faint smile cross his face at that and it brings you a heavy sense of relief.

“Do you want to come in? I don’t think we should discuss such things out here.” He says as he opens the door more for you.

“Sure, yes. You are probably right.” You say nervously as you make your way into his bedroom.

The air feels instantly tense when the door shuts behind you both, suddenly completely alone.

“They have ruined the entire visit.” You vent to Aemond. “I know everyone is looking at you for tonight, because of what you said, but I saw Luke too… They have always loved to antagonize you, and then you get blamed when you react!”

Aemond simply stares at you, feeling truly seen for the first time in his entire life. You were unlike anyone he had ever met, the only person he did not feel as if you saw him as a monster or a burden.

“Yes, well. Your brothers are bastards.” Aemond says with a mix of anger and humour.

“I disagree…” You say with a serious face before smirking. “They are not my brothers.”

Aemond smirks in response when he catches onto what you meant. It was so rare to find someone who agreed with him, who truly understood him. He suddenly realized he did not want to lose you.

“Will you have to return to Dragonstone with them?” Aemond asks.

“I expect I will, yes.” You say sadly.

“Do you want to go?”

“No, certainly not.” Your eyes meet his. “But it never matters what I want.” You advert your gaze to the floor.

“What do you want (y/n)?” He asks as he steps closer to you until he is nearly a breath away.

“It does not matter…” You say in a whisper.

“It matters to me…” He says lowly, glancing to your lips. “What is it that you really want (y/n)?”

“You…” The whisper of the word escapes your lips before you can think, your brain panics for a moment when you realize what you said out loud.

The panic is quickly replaced by surprise when Aemond cups your cheeks and brings your lips to his. You hesitate for a moment, thinking of your family, before your restraint snaps and you throw all caution to the wind and kiss him back passionately. You blindly follow along in the dance your tongues begin to do before you pull away briefly.

“I want you, Aemond.” You breathe. “All of you.”

“You know your family would not like this…” He whispers as his lips move down to your neck.

“I do not care.” You moan.

“This would ruin you for any man to come.” He mumbles as he continues kissing and nipping along your neck, his other hand coming up to grasp your breast. The feeling sending sparks throughout your body.

“Good.” You breathe. “I do not want anyone else, Aemond. Only you.”

“Good.” He says, pulling back to gaze into your eyes. “Because I do not wish to ever share you with anyone else. I do not care of our family rivalry… you are mine now.”

You simply nod eagerly and bring your lips back to his. You both make your way towards Aemond’s bed, lips never parting.

“Are you sure this is what you want, (y/n)?” He asks in a breathy voice as his fingers play with the strings on the back your dress.

“I am certain you are what I want, Aemond.” You say to him with heat in your eyes.

A small smirk forms on his lips as you turn around and he finishes pulling the laces of your gown. After a few moments the dress falls to the floor, leaving you in your thin shift. You turn back to face him and begin removing his shirt, eyes staying intensely connected to his as you do. His shirt falls to the floor and your eyes greedily take in his perfectly toned chest.

He helps as you pull your shift over your head, leaving you completely bare before him. Aemond quietly gulps as he takes in your naked form. He had seen naked women before at the brothel his brother had dragged him to, but you were something else entirely. A heavenly sight that the gods guarded from the world, a sight he had been blessed enough to see.

You reach to pull at the laces of his pants and he helps quickly get them off as they join the pile of discarded clothes. You reach to Aemond’s eye patch, he flinches hesitantly, causing you to abruptly stop. He gently grabs your wrist to lift your hand again, encouraging you. You reach up and slowly pull off his eye patch, revealing a beautiful blue sapphire. You lightly brush your thumb along his scar and he lets out a heavy breath. You both stand there for a moment, drinking in the sight of eachother in all your glory. You look down taking in the sight of his length and worry about how that would possibly fit inside you. Aemond moves towards you slowly, this time bringing your lips to his for a gentle, slow kiss. So many feelings spoken in this short kiss.

“Shall we get into bed then?” You say lowly.

He nods with a smirk as you both crawl into bed, Aemond hovering overtop of you as your lips connect once again, his hardness pressing against your stomach and your breasts pressed tightly against his chest. He takes his time kissing you like this before he kisses along your jaw, down your neck, moving lower until his mouth finds your nipple and sucks hard, causing you to gasp.

Aemond would have loved to continue his journey lower and provide you with even more pleasure, but he knew he was pressed for time because any moment your family could come searching for you to leave, they were likely looking for you right now. Besides, his patience began to run thin when you reach down and wrap your soft fingers around his aching member. The groan that escapes him sends a jolt right to your core.

He lines himself up to your entrance and his eye meets yours for permission. You nod quickly and he pushes into you slowly, both your mouths dropping open and panting at the feeling. Aemond stops when he feels the barrier. You try and control your heavy breathing.

“This is going to hurt for a moment.” He whispers and you nod again.

He pushes through your maidenhead and you cry out in pain, your fingers digging hard into his strong biceps. Aemond stills inside you and kisses you hungrily, the feeling of you squeezing tightly around him made his head completely spin. You whimper into his mouth as he slowly slides out of you before pushing back in. The pain slowly begins to fade as he tries to keep you distracted with his lips.

“More, Aemond… please…” You breathe after a few moments, wrapping your legs around him to pull him closer.

Aemond does not hesitate to quicken his speed, causing you to throw your head back as moans poured from your mouth. Neither of you cared if someone heard even knowing you would be in deep trouble. You almost hoped to be caught so you would have to be bound to each other.

Every sweet sound he dragged from you quickly pushes Aemond closer to the edge. He reaches down to rub on your pleasure point, hoping to push you over the edge before he loses control.

“Oh gods! Aemond!” You cry out as you come undone around him.

Intense shocks of pleasure shoot through your entire body and you see stars. Aemond watches the beautiful sight below him as you ride out your orgasm. He thrusts into you hard as his own peak crashes into him, groaning out in pleasure as he comes deep inside of you.

He remains inside you for a minute as you both pant, trying to catch your breath and your thoughts. He smiles and kisses your cheek before rolling off of you. You cuddle up to him and he hugs you tighter. You let out a content sigh before your smile turns into a frown, reality coming back to you.

“I do not wish to leave… to leave you…” You say quietly.

“I do not wish for you to leave either… so don’t.” Aemond says as you turn your head to meet his gaze.

You sigh and lay your head back on his chest, soaking up every minute you have with him.

**********

“What on earth are you talking about?” Daemon demands.

“I just do not understand why I have to leave too. We have only just arrived. I also was not even remotely involved in the fight at dinner, and Rhaenyra will be returning here anyway.” You try to reason with your father.

“What reason could you possibly have to want to remain here alone?” He asks.

“I- I suppose I do not have one…”

You could not tell your father the true reason you wanted to stay, he surely would drag you away if he knew. No other excuses come to mind.

“Good. You will leave tonight with all of us.” He says firmly.

**********

The ship ride back to Dragonstone was absolutely nauseating. You had never been so sea sick, throwing up every morning. The anxiety of leaving Aemond without being able to say goodbye just made you feel even worse. You had no idea how he was feeling, if he was upset, angry, or hardly cared at all. You prayed that some day you would have a chance to return to King’s Landing, to return to Aemond.

**********

So much had happened since your return to Dragonstone. King Viserys had died the same night of your departure and the throne usurped by Aegon. Your morning sea sickness did not go away and the most random smells would make you sick. Certain foods made you throw up just from the scent, while others smelt like heaven, even some of your favourite flowers had you reeling with nausea. The maester eventually confirmed your greatest fear… you were with child. Thank the gods for the maester’s discretion.

It was utterly impossible to tell your family the news with every horrible thing that was happening. The worst of it all… the death of your stepbrother Luke at the hands of none other than Aemond Targaryen, the father of your child. You knew there had to be more to the story, but your family in Dragonstone obviously found the greens completely unforgivable now. You truly did feel heartbroken for Rhaenyra, it also made you feel more protective of your own child growing inside your belly. But your dream to reunite with Aemond seemed to fade farther and farther out of your reach.

You had your dresses fitted looser as your belly began to swell, blaming it on over eating, which you were doing a lot of anyway as you now dealt with an appetite for two. You were not sure how much longer you could hide this, but each time you attempt to tell your father you cannot get the words out. The more chaos that ensued and the more your father cursed the greens and the harder it became to admit.

**********

Your father and stepmother had called for you and you quickly made your way to them. Your heart was racing and palms sweating as you join them.

“You wished to see me, father?” You say once you enter the room.

“Yes, (y/n). I have great news.” Daemon says. “We have found you a worthy husband.”

“W-what?” Your jaw drops, you were not expecting this at all.

“You are to marry Cregan Stark. The Starks have already pledged their fealty but this is the best way to solidify that relationship.” Your father explains.

“Father… I cannot marry Cregan Stark…” You say.

Daemon scoffs at you.

“You can, and you will. It is not up for discussion.” He says firmly.

“There is something I must tell you both…” You say quietly, worried.

You were officially out of time, you had to tell them and you had to do it now. Daemon and Rhaenyra give you their full attention as you refuse to meet their eyes.

“I am with child.” You state quietly, your fists clenched at your sides in nervousness.

“That’s not possible.” Your father scoffs with a chuckle, as if trying to convince himself.

“The maester has already confirmed it…” You continue to speak quietly. “I am quite far along…”

“Who is the father?” Rhaenyra asks.

You meet her gaze but remain silent.

“Dammit young lady! Who on earth did you sleep with?” Daemon yells at you, making you jump.

He stomps towards you and grabs you by the throat briefly before letting go. Although it was only for a second you stumble backward with your hand on your sore throat as your eyes meet his in fear.

“If you are already this angry… I am far too afraid to tell you who the father is.” You say with a shaky voice, holding back tears.

“We are not going to harm him, child.” Rhaenyra reassures you but your father rolls his eyes as if to disagree.

“That is not my greatest concern… My concern is more to do with who it is...”

“Who in seven hells is it?!” Your father snaps and steps towards you again, you step back as he does until your back hits the wall.

“He…” You try to get the words out, your father stops and they both stare at you impatiently. “The father is… Aemond Targaryen.”

You feel as if you are going to puke or possibly faint as you watch the absolute horror spread across their faces.

“I’m sorry…” Your father chuckles in disbelief. “I must have misheard you. Did you say… Aemond fucking Targaryen?”

You look to your feet and nod.

“You’re fucking with me… Please tell me you are fucking with me.” Daemon says, your silence in response answers his question.

Rhaenyra is still standing there speechless in shock.

“This was before…” You look directly to Rhaenyra. “…everything.” Your eyes shift back to your feet.

“Do you have any idea what you have done?” Daemon says angrily, rubbing his temples in frustration. “What in seven hells are we supposed to do now?!”

“I… I do not know…” You say in nearly a whisper. “I am truly sorry father… it just… happened.”

“Have you even asked the maester if your condition is treatable at this stage?” Daemon asks.

“Treatable? What do you mean?”

“Is there no way they can rid you of that thing?”

“Is that really what you are considering be done, father?” You scoff in offence.

“Dear daughter, I am considering throwing you down a flight of stairs or stabbing you in the stomach to rid you of that thing if necessary.” He snarls.

Even Rhaenyra shoots him daggers at that statement, having recently lost their own babe during childbirth.

“Stop calling it that! It is a child, my child, and I will not let you harm me nor my baby.”

“I refuse to let you birth the spawn of that monster. Go to your chambers while I go speak to the maesters about what can be done.”

“Father-“

“I said get out of my sight!” His voice booms, causing the room to go still.

You stare at him as if you were to say something else but then turn to run out of the room crying. As soon as you reach your chambers you slam the door and lock it. You desperately reach for your chamber pot before vomiting into it. After, you try and steady your heavy panting as you think of what to do.

Your mind races as you stand up and throw a travel bag onto your bed before quickly packing your things, whatever you could fit. The hour was already late, you thought, so there was no need to wait until nightfall to escape. Surely you could sneak off to the stables unnoticed and flee on your horse, find a ship somewhere on Dragonstone before you were caught. You take a deep breath and look around your bedroom, the life you would be leaving behind, the family. But screw them! You have never felt a true part of either of your father’s families. You rubbed your stomach tenderly, thinking about the future of a true family, your family. With that in mind you throw open your bedroom door only to stop suddenly as you see your father standing on the other side. He looks to the bag in your hand.

“Going somewhere, daughter?” He asks slyly.

“I- I cannot stay here…” Your voice trembles.

“I forbid you to leave this castle until we have decided what to do with you.” He says sternly. “You will not leave your room, we will have breakfast brought to you in the morning.”

Before you can argue he slams the door in your face and locks you inside. You shake and pound at the door. Beating your fists on it as hard as you can.

“You cannot do this to me! Please father! Please!” You cry and beg from the other side.

You fall to the ground staring at your trembling red hands, aching from banging on the door. Anger boils within you until you are back on your feet throwing things around the room, the sound of screaming and breaking glass echoing into the hallways. Eventually you tire yourself out and collapse onto your bed, crying yourself to sleep.

**********

The next morning you hear a knock at the door.

“Come!” You call.

One of your chamber maids opens the door with a tray of breakfast food.

“Good morrow, princess.” She says politely, concern crossing her face as she notices the state of the room. “Shall I send in someone to clean?”

You shake your head before peering behind her and seeing no one else around.

“I need something else from you.” You say quietly to her.

“Of course, princess. What can I do for you?” She says.

“I need you to deliver a note to my guardsman. You know the one I speak of, he is the only one I can trust.” You say as you move to grab parchment and ink, throwing them down on the small dining table which your breakfast now sat.

“I- Forgive me, princess. I do not think can… Your father-“ She says timidly.

“Please! Please, I am with child and I do not know what he is going to do to me. He is trying to kill my baby, he may even kill me to do so if he must. Please, I am begging you.” You grab her hands as you plead with tears in your eyes.

She peers behind her shoulder to the hallway before looking back to you and nodding, making you sigh in relief. You had no idea if you could fully trust her, for all you know she will take this note straight to your father, but you had no other option right now.

“But quickly, princess.” She whispers, continuing to peak into the hallway for anyone coming this way.

You quickly scribble a letter to your only fully trusted person in this land. The only guardsman that had followed you from Runestone to each place you moved. He was loyal to your mother and you knew he always had distaste for your father. It was still extremely risky but he was your one chance at getting out of here. You hand her the folded up letter which she tucks into her dress and you whisper endless thank yous.

“Princess.” She says with a curtsy before departing.

All you could do now was wait…

**********

There is another knock at your door not long after the maid leaves. You open it eagerly and are surprised to see your stepbrother Jacaerys standing on the other side.

“What do you want?” You ask.

“I wanted to know if it was true…” He says flatly.

“That depends on what my father has told you… That I am a deceitful traitor? That I am a whore? That I am growing a demon spawn inside me?” Your say as your blood begins to boil.

“He said you were with child. With Aemond’s child.” He says, pure anger in his tone. “So same thing really…” He shrugs.

“Fuck you, Jacaerys.” You snap.

You are nearly as shocked as he is at the bold statement, but you had no care left in the world about how your family thought of you now. They have already decided in their minds to hate you for being with the child of their greatest enemy. Nevermind the fact that the act of it happened before all of that. If things had not turned out in the horribly tragic ways they did, and the whole of the royal family had remained civil with eachother, you knew your family would still have been displeased but they would have ultimately accepted your bond to Aemond.

“Wow, (y/n)… I knew there was something between you two when we visited King’s Landing. But I thought after everything he has done, everything the rest of them have done to our family…” His voice raises. “I have no more words for what you have done…” He says in almost a whisper, shaking his head in disappointment.

“Well, if you have no more words then I bid you a good day, brother.” You say sharply before closing the door in his face.

You feel like you could spit fire with how angry and hurt you were. You wish Jace’s words did not phase you but they pierced into you like daggers.

**********

Your lunch and supper had been brought to your chambers. You could not help but worry when you saw it was a different maid than this morning. You prayed to the gods nothing happened to the other one due to your actions.

It was the hour of the owl when someone knocked at your door again. Despite the late hour you were wide awake, unable to sleep at all. You cautiously open the door and nearly cry of relief when you see your guardsman standing outside the door.

“We must hurry, princess.” He whispers to you. “Pack what belongings you need.”

You throw on your cloak before grabbing the travel bag you previously packed and threw it over your shoulder before giving him a nod. He holds his hand out to you and you grab it as he leads you out of your chambers and through the dark hallways. He was careful to avoid other guards, occasionally ducking you both behind another wall as one passed by. He leads you down another hallway you had never seen, leading you right out of the castle through a hidden door.

“This way princess.” The guard says.

You follow him to the shore where there lies a small boat. You give him a questioning look, there was no way you could make it all the way to Kings Landing in that.

“There is a ship waiting for us princess with a handful of men I trust. It had to remain out of sight.” He explains.

You nod and get into the boat before he paddles away into the darkness. The small light of Dragonstone begins to fade into the distance just before the dim lighting of a small ship comes into view. He assists you up the rope ladder and onto the ship. You could see no more than five other men on the ship along with your guardsman. They quickly begin working the sails and get the ship moving.

“I cannot thank you enough, Ser. You have truly saved our lives.” You say to the guard as you rub your stomach.

“I was sworn to protect you and your mother. I may have failed your mother but I will not fail you, princess.” He says.

You give him a sympathetic smile of gratitude before looking out into the dark waters of the sea. Thinking of all that is yet to come.

**********

A few days later, you watch as King’s Landing comes into view. Your heart begins to race and your stomach twists into knots. You were the daughter of their enemies, you had no idea how they would react to your arrival. If they would even listen to what you have to say.

You arrive to the gates with your guardsman, the rest of the crew having begun to sail the ship back.

“Who goes there?” A kingsguard asks.

“Princess (y/n) Targaryen. We are here as allies and bring important news.” Your guard speaks for you.

The kingsguard is silent for a moment, contemplating. Your heart pounds in your chest with worry they will simply refuse you and you will have nowhere else to go.

“Very well.” They open the gate and lead you in.

“The king is available to see you right now.” The kingsguard says.

“Oh. I was actually hoping to speak with Prince Aemond first.” You say timidly.

“The prince is with the king, you may see them both now.” He explains.

You nod and take a deep shakey breath before slightly lifting your dress to walk up the stairs. You are led into throne room, following behind the kingsguard and your guardsman.

Your eyes find Aemond first, standing diligently next to his mother. His eye meet yours instantly quickly flickering to your large stomach and you see his eye widen as the rest of his face remains expressionless. You take another deep breath as you continue walking, focusing hard on putting one foot in front of the other until you reach where Aegon sat on the iron throne.

“Princess (y/n)! To what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit? Has your traitor family finally decided to bend the knee?” Aegon speaks to you arrogantly.

“No, your grace. I am not here on their behalf, I am here on mine. They had no knowledge of my travels here… I would bend the knee to you now if I were able, my king.” You say, rubbing your stomach. “I am with child…”

Your gaze darts to Aemond for a short second who has not taken his eye off you since you entered the room.

“I can see that.” Aegon chuckles. “I am glad to hear you are pledging your fealty to me, but I do not understand what your being with child has to do with me?”

“It… It does not have to do with you, your grace.”

You look to Aemond again, this time Aegon follows your gaze.

“Well then!” Aegon laughs loudly. “It seems my brother had been very busy during your last visit to King’s Landing.”

Yours and Aemond’s silence was answer and confirmation enough. Alicent stands beside Aemond in a silent shock as she stares at your round stomach.

“You must be exhausted. My guards will escort you to your chambers.” Aegon says. “We shall see you at supper. I believe you two have much to discuss.” He grins, looking to Aemond who glares back at him.

“Thank you, your grace.” You give a small curtsy, unable to bend too low.

You and Aemond watch eachother as you are led out of the room and to your new chambers, your own guardsman following until you are left alone in the room. As soon as the door is shut tears quickly fall from your face, Aemond looked so angry. What if this entire thing was a huge mistake? You had not fully considered Aemond may not even want to have anything to do with you or this child. Who knows what they might do with you now, what if it’s worse than what your father would have done?

You don’t have long to dwell on the thoughts swirling in your mind before there is a firm knock at the door. You quickly wipe your tears from your face.

“Come!” You call.

The door opens and your heart stops when you see Aemond enter, closing the door behind him.

“Aemond!” You say in surprise.

“Is it my child?” He asks forwardly.

“I- yes… I am so sorry…” Your voice breaks as you fight back tears and look to the floor.

“Sorry?” He says softly as he steps closer to you and gently lifts your chin to meet his gaze. “You have no reason to be sorry, (y/n).”

“But I thought…” You start to say.

“If anything, I am sorry this happened without my being there afterward, without being there to protect you.”

“You could not have known…” You say in a whisper.

“Well, I know now.” He says as he takes both of your hands in his. “I will care for you both, you have my word.”

You smile up at him and the tears you held back fall down your face, Aemond takes his thumb and wipes some away.

“I am bound to you, all of me.” He says intensely, as he cups your cheek and stares into your eyes.

“But… are you not only bound to me because I happen to be with child?” You frown.

“I have been bound to you the moment our lips first touched, (y/n).” He gives you the warmest smile you have ever seen on him.

With that said, he touches his lips to yours in a soft tender kiss. The kiss ever so slowly builds and builds until you’re a whimpering mess and chasing eachothers tongues. Aemond pulls away to look at you, pure fire behind his eyes.

“Does being with child stop you from wanting… from being able to…” Aemond couldn’t get the words out but you knew what he was referring to.

“No, no, not at all.” You say with a smile. “Quite the opposite actually…”

Aemond gives you a questioning look.

“If anything, I need you even more now.” You explain before pressing your lips back to his.

He begins pulling the strings of your dress as the kiss continues. You reach your hands in between you and remove his shirt before pulling at the ties of his trousers. Once your dress falls to the ground you feel instantly self conscious, your body having changed a considerable amount since he last saw you. But the way Aemond looks at you was like a wild animal about to pounce on its prey. The sight of your naked body, swollen his child, was the most heavenly sight he could ever see.

You get into bed, kissing in between every movement, like your lips could not stand to be apart for longer than a few seconds. Aemond’s lips soon move to your neck before kissing his way down your chest. His warm mouth wraps around your nipple before sucking hard, causing you to gasp, your nipples being even more sensitive from the pregnancy. He kisses all over your stomach lovingly as one hand rubs across it gently. He looks up and smiles at you as you smile back at him, pure happiness on his face.

“I have been dreaming about this…” He says lowly before licking a strip up your core.

You whimper and squirm as his tongue teases you with gentle licks before he wraps his strong arms around your legs to hold you still as he begins to eat you out ravenously. Your hand shoots to your mouth to cover the loud moans pouring from you as your other hand finds its way down to his head and your fingers bury into his silky white hair. You tug his hair lightly as you’re overcome with pleasure and he groans in response, the feeling of it against your core bringing you closer to the edge.

Your entire body feels like it’s on fire as he works you with his tongue, the intensity only increasing as he slips two of his long slender fingers inside you. It’s not long after that until you come undone, clenching around his fingers and bucking against his face as you cry out. Aemond doesn’t relent until your legs are shaking and you’re pulling away from the overstimulation.

He moves back up the bed, wiping his face, and you pull him into a hungry kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue.

“I need you inside me right now.” You beg, the need for him only increased by your release.

He practically growls at your words as he pulls his loose pants fully off and tosses them to the ground. He wastes no time plunging himself into you, causing you both to moan out in tandem. You bask in the full feeling of him inside you again, you felt so empty without him all these months and now you were finally reconnected.

The angle is awkward due to your protruding belly in between you, your eyes meet as unspoken thoughts pass through you. Without a word you reposition so Aemond is laying on the bed and you’re climbing on top of him. After straddling him you shove him back inside you, watching as his jaw drops open at the feeling. With your limited mobility Aemond still takes the lead and begins pounding into you from below. You cling to his shoulders to keep yourself upright as your tits bounce in his face with each thrust and your moans now fall shamelessly from your mouth. You don’t see him observing every facial expression and sound you make while you ride him. The sight and feel of you had him barreling towards release.

“My love, I-“ Aemond chokes out. “Fuck, (y/n), I’m going to…”

“Me too.” You pant as your second orgasm creeps up on you, the sound of your name on Aemond lips only increasing it.

“Gods!” Aemond groans out as the last of his restraint snaps and he spills into you.

His release brings you to your own, the feeling of him pulsing inside you has you seeing stars as you moan loudly, no longer caring if someone heard you.

You fall onto the bed beside him, both panting heavily. After a minute Aemond turns to his side to look down at you, your eyes meet his and you both smile warmly at eachother, nothing but love passing between you.

“I love you, (y/n).” Aemond says as he brushes your cheek with his thumb.

“I love you, Aemond.” You say back, your hand gently covering his still on your cheek.

He leans down and places a firm kiss to your lips before pulling back to admire you again.

“So what now?” You ask.

“Now?” He raises a brow before smiling again. “Now, we marry. Have our child, and live happily ever after.”

“I like the sound of that.” You smile.

**********

The wedding was very small and private, only the main royal family of King’s Landing in attendance. You would have loved to have a large wedding and a grand feast but with your, condition, it had to remain quiet to the people. You still enjoyed every minute of the day, saying your vows with the love of your life and enjoying a lovely dinner with music.

Every minute spent in your wedding chamber was also well enjoyed. You had obviously already consummated the marriage but you could not keep your hands off eachother. The night was passionate and intense.

“I want to taste you husband…” You say lowly.

“Who am I to deny you, little wife.” He smirks.

‘Little wife’, gods, the need for Aemond quickly pooled between your legs at the sound of that.

He leads you over to sit at the edge of the bed and stands in between your thighs. Seeing the way you stare up at him, your face only inches away from where he needed you most, it made his aching member press harder against his trousers.

“Take it out, little wife.” He says.

That name lit a fire inside you. You pull at the laces of his trousers and Aemond hisses when your soft hand wraps around his hardness to pull it out. Your eyes meet his and he watches you with heavy eyes as you begin slow sensual licks around his tip, he shudders when your tongue brushes over the hole. Just as Aemond is about to beg you for more, you shove him as far as you can into your mouth and he groans loudly. You continue to work him with your hands and mouth, testing and finding out what he likes.

“Fuck, I’m-“ Aemond barely chokes out the words before he’s spilling into your mouth with another loud groan.

After that Aemond took his sweet time with you. Kissing, licking, stroking, and worshipping every single inch of your body. You moaned as your hands buried into his hair, his face between your legs eating you like a man starved. One of his hands reaching up, interlocking with yours as he uses his other hand to slide his slender fingers inside you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Come for me, little wife.” Those words had you instantly soaking his face and moaning so loud you knew that the guards in the hallway were likely feeling awkward, but you could not care less.

You lost count of the amount of orgasms he coaxed from you that night. If you were not already with child, you definitely would have been after your eventful wedding night. You both felt like you could never get enough of this intimacy, this love.

The months following were extremely stressful, with the inevitable war being planned out, and Aemond being highly involved. He did his best to give you as much of his time as possible. The smile on Aemond’s face when he first felt the baby kick, was the happiest you have ever seen him. He also made sure you were well taken care of by the maids and maesters throughout the entire pregnancy.

**********

Aemond returns to bed well past the hour of the owl after a long dreadful meeting with the small council. To his surprise you were wide awake reading a book in bed with a candle lit beside you. You smile warmly when you notice him.

“What are you doing awake, little wife?”

“Sleep has been difficult lately.” You say as you rub your round belly. “The babe is going to come any day now.”

The tension releases from Aemond, thinking how grateful and lucky he was to have such a beautiful wife and a child on the way.

“What are you doing up so late, husband?” You ask.

Some of the tension returns to him as he sits down on the bed beside you with a heavy sigh.

“The small council meeting dragged on and on… my brother’s ignorance is going to lose us this war.” He sighed in annoyance.

“You should be king.” You say, a hand coming to rest on top of his.

“What?” He agreed with you of course, but it was a bold statement coming from someone else.

“You should be king, my love.” You look deeply into his eye. “Tis you who studies history and philosophy, it is you who trains with the sword, who rides the largest dragon in the world, it is you who should be king.”

His heart raced at your words, his deepest darkest thoughts he would never say aloud you were saying directly to him. He leans in and places a firm kiss to your lips to show his agreement.

“You are so perfect.” He says to you in a whisper, the words making your heart swell.

He kisses you again, this time with more intent, his tongue dancing against yours. His eye meets yours for permission to continue and you nod, biting your lip. He continues kissing you as you pull up the skirts of your night dress and he undoes his trousers and throws them to the floor. He lays behind you, reaching his arm around to lightly rub your stomach as he kisses down your arm. You both sigh in pleasure as he so very slowly enters you. The sex is slow, intentional, gentle, loving. Savouring every little moment and feeling of one another.

“Stop stop, something is wrong.” You suddenly say as a strange feeling passes through your body.

Aemond immediately stops and pulls away from you and you noticed the bed sheets are soaked.

“I think my water just broke…” You look to him.

Your panicked faces quickly turn excited and he quickly throws his pants back on before calling on the maester and servants. The babe was finally coming!

**********

Aemond paced back and forth outside the birthing chamber for hours, freezing in horror every time he heard a painful scream or cry coming from inside. You had been in there for so long, and none of it sounded good. He knew childbirth was hard and there would be a lot of pain, and he did not know how a normal birth is supposed to sound, or how long it’s supposed to take… but when Alicent came to checkup on him he could see the extreme worry on her face when he told her you were still in there and they both heard another scream of pain from the other side of the door.

More time passes, far too much time, before the chamber door finally opens and the maester came outside, shutting the door behind him.

“Well?” Aemond demands.

“My prince… I am afraid the babe refuses to come.” He explains hesitantly. “We are left now with the difficult choice to attempt saving the child… but at the cost of the mother’s life.” He explains.

Aemond freezes, his heart suddenly racing and palms sweating, his worst fear being brought to life right before him.

“Absolutely not.” He says, his voice shakey. “There must be another way.”

“I’m afraid if she cannot birth the babe naturally… there are no other options, my prince. Otherwise we may very well lose them both”

“Let me see her.” Aemond demands.

“Of course, my prince.” The maester timidly agrees and leads Aemond into the room.

Aemond enters the room to see you on the birthing bed which was drenched in blood, your face covered in sweat and exhaustion. He felt a wave of terror wash over his body at the sight. A grateful smile crosses your tired face when you see your husband.

“My love…” You sigh with a soft smile.

“Everyone out.” Aemond demands the room full of midwives and the maester.

“But my prince…” The maester says, hesitant about leaving you at this stage of the birth.

“I need a moment alone with my wife, I will call you all back in a minute. Wait outside. Now.” Aemond demands, leaving no room for argument.

The maester bows his head and everyone scrambles out of the room. The second the door shuts Aemond is on you, grabbing onto your hand as his other brushes the damp hair from your forehead.

“My love…” He looks at you with pure sadness and worry in his eyes.

“What did the maester tell you?” You mumble, barely having the strength to speak.

“They said if the babe will not come they will have to…” He tries to explain, voice trembling.

“Please... Please, do not let them cut me open. I am not ready to die Aemond…” You pant the words in a panic, tears falling down your face.

“No, you will not die my love. You cannot die…” He says, kissing your forehead and hugging you close as he fights off his own tears. “But in order to live, to remain here with me, to remain here with our child…” Aemond takes your face in his hands. “You have to push.”

“I can’t…” You burst into tears. “I have tried Aemond I really am trying. I can’t… I can’t…”

“Yes you can.” He says reassuringly as he still holds your face. “I am here now, I am not going anywhere. You can do this, (y/n). You must…” His voice breaks at the last words and a tear falls down his face.

You sniffle and nod your head in agreement.

“Alright, come!” Aemond calls to the door.

The maester and midwives quickly file back into the room, finding their positions again. The maester looks to Aemond for an answer to his earlier suggestion.

“We are going to try pushing once more.” Aemond states.

The maester looks concerned and hesitant in the idea, but does not try to argue any further with Aemond. With your husband by your side, your hand in his, you attempt on pushing again. You scream in pain as you push and push and push, the babe refusing to move an inch.

“I can’t do it… I can’t do it…” You sob.

“You must…” Aemond whispers the gentle reminder in your ear. “Please…”

You must do it, you must live... Aemond could not even consider what he would do if you did not.

You begin to push again, putting every ounce of strength you have into it, you scream as your body feels like it’s being torn open, squeezing Aemond’s hand so hard you wouldn’t be surprised if you broke the bones. You take one quick breath before continuing to push and push, fighting through the blinding pain. Finally, you feel a huge wave of relief wash over your body and the sound of crying assures you that it’s all over. Your heavy eyes refuse to open and your body begins to feel even weaker.

“What is happening?” You hear Aemond ask in a panic.

“She has lost far too much blood.” The maester responds.

That is the last thing you hear before you completely lose consciousness. You don’t see or hear them basically shoving Aemond out of the room despite his protests, or the tears in his terrified eye as he stares at your limp body laying still in the bed.

**********

When you come to, you are still laying in bed but the sheets are now clean and your night dress had been changed. You see Aemond standing on the other side of the room, facing the window.

“Aemond?” You call out weakly.

His head quickly shoots to your direction before he walks over, holding a bundle in his arms.

“My love, how are you feeling?”

“Fine.” You give a soft weak smile. “Is this our child?”

“Our son.” Aemond smiles widely, a genuine rare purely happy smile.

“Our son…” You repeat lovingly as he places the babe in your arms.

You look at your beautiful baby boy with his silver gold hair and your heart soars, even more so when you glance back to your husband who’s now sitting beside you on the bed. Your heart felt so full in this moment. Everything you had been through to get to this very moment, was all worth it.

**********

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[thefandomthings]

Okay HEAR ME OUT BUTTTT what about zuko betrayal part 2 with the prompt “you own my heart” 👀

Betrayal

Fluff Prompt #30: "You own my heart."

Pairing: Zuko x F/Gn!reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Terrible writing, happy ending? ¡¡SPOILERS!!, Takes place in Book 3. Ep. 11. It doesn't follow the script in the episode.

Notes: I'm so sorry I haven't been writing, I work in agriculture and summer and fall are my busiest times of the year and I lost motivation in the process 😭. But, hopefully I'm back. Thank you for your patience.

Part 1 Part 2 Prompt Event

Who knew betrayal could hurt so much. Chest heavy, heart heavier. Why did he do it? Does he think everything will be okay once he got back? Maybe Azula manipulated him? No. He did it willingly.

It's been weeks since the incident, a few months actually. You dont know what to do with yourself. Everything has been so emotionally hard. The long term depression grasping you in a chokehold.

The gaang has been there for you. Aang suffering from his own mid childhood crisis, the weight of the world literally on his shoulders. Katara tires to help as much as she could, but she is also dealing with things of her own. Sokka....was just Sokka.

After the invasion, you retreated to the western air temple. It was definitely a sight for sore eyes. The architecture was incredible. The Air Nation really outdid themselves.

"Y/n? Why don't you come eat dinner with us?" Katara leaned against the door frame of the room you are currently residing in. You look over at her gave her a small smile, one that didn't quite reach your eyes.

Katara didn't exactly like Zuko, having felt being betrayed as well. She has a lot of not nice things to say about the young prince, but for the sake of your ears she kept them to herself.

She grabs your arm pulling you up from your bed. You reluctantly follow her, head resting on her shoulder.

Today was a rough day. It Started out with a dream of you and him dancing in the temple. Oh so in love. Hands intertwined with each others. Whispering small nothings, butterflies occupying your chest and tummy. You woke up as if it was a nightmare, your brain toying with you like a yoyo.

Katara holds you gently, her hand laying on your head as if you were a child. At this moment you felt as if you were. Needing someone to comfort your aching heart.

"What are you doing here?!"

"Please just hear me out..." You immediately recognize that voice. It was him.

Zuko.

"Why should we? Huh?!" Sokka crosses his arms defensively. Katara flicks the lid on the water pouch on her hip, bending the water out.

You heart is hammering against your chest. His eyes immediately are drawn towards you. Zuko feels himself choke up. The sight of you made his chest hurt. The dullness you held in your eyes was unbearable to look at.

"Y/n...."

"She doesn't want to talk to you." Katara says, she moved to stand in front of you. Her body is blocking his sight of you. Zuko wants to reach for you, to grovel at your feet, to beg for forgiveness. Even if it hurts his pride, or his reputation. Which wasn't much good anyway. He had to make it right with you.

You are his everything.

"It's okay Katara." You give her a reassuring smile, it wasn't very convincing to anyone who knew you.

"What're you doing here?" You inquire and step next to Katara. Your eyes boring into his, he looked...Sad. Regret swimming in his honey irises.

"I've changed-" You feel yourself moving on its own. You hold your hand up, and he stopped talking.

"That's what you said under Ba Sing Se, then you left. Betraying everyone who cared about you. Especially Uncle Iroh."

That struck a nerve, his face hardens and he looks away slightly, eyebrows furrowed. His tongue darts out and wets his dry and cracked lips, his golden eyes looking back up at you. He steps closer, his hands clenching and unclenching by his side.

Zuko wants to hold you...Needs to feel you against him. To kiss you, to be with you. He needs you like he needs air, without you he's nothing, just a shell of the man he was before he lost you.

"Y/n, please...I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Zukos voice cracks slightly.

You purse your lips together tightly.

It's so very tempting to close the gap between the two of you, forgiving him just felt right. Maybe it was just the your heart talking over logic. Your headspace is messed up severely, the wound is still fresh in your brain and heart.

"Zuko-"

Katara stops you, stepping in front of you.

"Leave. You've done enough, you are not welcome here."

"Y/n...please." It was strange seeing him so weak for once, pleading you. Practically on his knees for forgiveness.

"You own my heart."

It hurt you to watch him get treated so badly. He deserved it, mostly. Everyone has the right to be angry with him. Chasing Aang across the globe, trying to kill you then after everything at Ba sing se. It was almost unforgivable. Almost.

•°•°•°•

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[quins-heart16]

LANDO NORRIS X GF READER

PUBLIC AFFECTION PRANK ON HIM

You weren’t the type to be overly affectionate in public—especially at the paddock. Sure, you loved Lando, but with all the cameras, team members, and fans around, you usually kept your affection subtle. A hug here, a soft smile there. But today? Today, you were flipping the script.

Lando had no idea what was coming.

As soon as you arrived at the paddock, you spotted him talking to a few engineers. Perfect timing. Without hesitation, you ran up and threw your arms around him from behind, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Landooo,” you whined dramatically, ignoring the surprised looks from the team.

Lando stiffened for a second before turning his head slightly. “Uh—hey, love?” He chuckled nervously. “You okay?”

“I just missed you so much.” You sighed dreamily, rubbing your cheek against his.

Now, Lando was definitely confused. He gave a cautious laugh, glancing at his team members, who were now eyeing him with amused smirks. “Babe… we just saw each other before I left the hotel.”

“So? That was forever ago.” You turned to his team with a bright smile. “Don’t you guys think Lando’s just the best boyfriend ever?”

One of the engineers stifled a laugh. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”

Lando squinted at you. “What’s happening right now?”

You ignored him, instead taking his hand and intertwining your fingers tightly. “Where are we going next?”

“I—uh, my meeting with the engineers.” He raised an eyebrow.

“Perfect! Let’s go.” You tugged him toward the briefing room.

He blinked. “Wait—we?”

“Yes, we.” You batted your lashes. “I wanna be with you all day.”

Lando let out a nervous laugh. “Babe, I don’t think that’s allowed bringing your girlfriend to meetings and stuff.”

“Well, today’s different!” You leaned against him, practically clinging to his side as you walked through the paddock. Every step he took, you were right there, holding onto his arm like he was your lifeline.

By now, other drivers and team members were definitely noticing. Charles gave Lando a teasing smirk as he passed. Max raised an eyebrow. Even Oscar looked mildly amused.

Lando, on the other hand, was trying to figure out if he was being punked. “Are you—are you feeling okay? Is this a bet? Did someone dare you to do this?”

You gasped dramatically. “Why can’t I just love my boyfriend in public? Is that so bad?”

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “You never do this.”

“Well, I’m making up for lost time.” You stopped in front of the meeting room and held onto his waist, swaying side to side. “Can I come in?”

Lando blinked. “To my meeting?”

“Yes.”

“… Babe, it’s literally about car setups and telemetry data.”

“That sounds so interesting!” You beamed. “I wanna learn everything about you, Lando.”

At this point, Lando was at a loss for words. He looked between you and the team members waiting inside the room, then back at you. “I don’t know whether to be flattered or deeply concerned.”

You grinned. “Just let me in.”

He exhaled dramatically before shaking his head with a laugh. “Alright, that’s it.” He grabbed your waist and lifted you slightly, turning you around. “Time to go, miss clingy.”

You gasped. “Landooo, noooo!”

He started walking you away from the meeting room. “Nope, you’re done. I don’t know what kind of spell you’re under, but I know you’re up to something.”

You giggled, clutching his arm. “Okay, fine. Maybe it’s a little prank.”

“A little?” He gave you a pointed look. “You had me thinking you hit your head or something.”

You grinned up at him. “Did you like it though?”

Lando huffed a laugh before leaning down slightly. “You know what? Maybe I should start being extra affectionate in public too.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait—”

Too late. Lando wrapped his arms around you dramatically, lifting you off the ground for everyone to see.

“You started this,” he teased.

And just like that, your prank had backfired in the most Lando way possible.

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[alphajocklover]

I was wondering if you could make me a super hot movie star. Like the kind of guy who plays the main male role in a rom com. I’m good either way of it makes me straight as a side effect.

You had never really liked rom coms growing up. You didn’t hate all rom coms, as some were generally good and creative, but a lot of them were just so… formulaic and repetitive. It felt like it was always the same damned story, the same formula over and over again: A stereotypical meet cute between two people who are just attractive enough to be in the movies leads to scripted, unrealistic but fairly cute bickering, which turns into them semi-dating, which is complicated by some dumb misunderstanding that breaks them up, before the two leads dramatically get back together and realize love is the answer to literally every problem in their lives. You knew hating Rom Coms because they were formulaic wasn’t very original either, but you couldn’t help it. They were just so… cheesy! But as you grew up, your opinion of them started to change. You still thought they were repetitive, but you couldn’t help but admire the male leads. They were always so strong, handsome, naturally charming and romantic, everything you, as an awkward young gay man who couldn’t get a date, weren’t. Even the actors had an effortless charm, and you began to fantasize about what it would be to be like them. To be that charming, handsome guy, the kind of guy who could sweep a girl off their feet without even trying, who the camera and audience just loved. Your fantasy evolved from you just being like a rom com male lead, into you actually being one of those actors. Which was why you were so thrilled when you got those free lessons in the new local acting classes. You knew it was probably a little too late to break into the movie scene, but these lessons gave you a chance to live out your leading man fantasies, even just for a moment. 

“Ok, first I need you to take off your shirt.”  “I’m sorry, what?” You asked, confused. You had been more than a little disappointed to find out that, besides the woman actually teaching the class, you were the only person to actually show up. It was a little concerning, but you figured that the class was free, and that less people meant more one-on-one attention from the teacher, a blonde girl named Kennedy who seemed very nice. Until she asked you to take off your shirt, that is.

“Look, I need to know what I’m working with. I know it sounds shallow, but a lot of acting has to do with image, and like it or not, certain physiques get certain roles.” She said, sending you a disarming smile. You weren’t exactly comfortable taking off your shirt in front of someone, as you were a little embarrassed by your average physique, but… it was just the two of you. And it wasn’t like she was a hot guy or anything. While still uncertain, you decided to just get it over with and quickly stripped off your shirt. For a moment you couldn’t meet Kennedy’s eyes, too embarrassed, but a quick look up turned all your embarrassment into utter confusion. It took you a moment to realize that the voluptuous blonde was looking at you with… lust? You felt your cheeks burn as she stepped closer, and a strange feeling built up in your stomach. Seeing the shocked look on your face, Kennedy giggled, a light, almost ditzy giggle that made your head spin. What the hell was happening?

As Kennedy stepped closer and closer to you, your head swam and your skin burned. You felt an unexpected sense of confidence and arousal come over you as she brought her hand up to your beefy chest. Something about that felt… wrong, but… who gave a fuck when this whole thing felt so right? You smirked slightly as you squeezed her ass with your big, manly hand, and pulled her into a deep, dominating kiss. You knew going to a movie intimacy class would be fun, but you had a feeling you and Kennedy were going to have a lot more fun than just pretending to fuck. It wasn’t like you really needed the help anyways. You had kissed and fucked a lot of girls, both on and off the screen. Not a lot of guys can do both professional acting and actual porn, but hey, you were just that good.

[pankowcrumbs]

Chemistry X Luke Thompson

Plot: You are cast as Sophie Beckett but you fall in love with Luke in real life. Word count: Just under 12K 18+ does include smut at the end MasterList Bridgerton and Cast Masterlist

The room was unbearably warm, or maybe that was just my nerves. I sat in the waiting area, my foot tapping against the polished wooden floor as I tried to focus on the lines in my hands. I had rehearsed them a hundred times, but the words blurred together now, my brain buzzing with anxious energy.

This was it. My final audition.

When I first got the call for Bridgerton, I nearly dropped my phone in disbelief. They were casting Sophie Beckett the love interest of Benedict Bridgerton for the upcoming season and somehow, somehow, I had made it to the chemistry read. The moment that could make or break everything.

The nerves twisting in my stomach weren’t just about the role. It was who I’d be reading with.

Luke Thompson.

I had admired him as an actor for years, captivated by the way he brought Benedict to life on screen witty, passionate, and utterly mesmerising. And now, I was about to stand in front of him, reciting words that would determine if I was fit to play his love interest.

"Y/N?" A casting assistant poked her head out of the audition room, giving me a warm smile. "You're up."

I swallowed hard, rising to my feet and smoothing out the fabric of my dress. This was it. Show time.

Stepping inside, I was met with the sight of the showrunner, a few producers, and Luke himself, casually leaning against a chair in the middle of the room. He was flipping through a script, but as soon as I walked in, his head lifted, and his eyes met mine.

And just like that, the air shifted.

Something unspoken crackled between us, an almost magnetic pull I hadn’t expected. His blue eyes studied me for a beat longer than necessary before a slow smile tugged at his lips.

"Hi," he said, standing up and extending his hand. "Luke."

"I know," I replied before I could stop myself, my voice a touch breathless. I took his hand, feeling the warmth of his palm against mine. "Y/N."

"Lovely to meet you, Y/N." His voice was softer now, almost as if he could sense my nerves.

"You too." I forced myself to take a deep breath as I let go of his hand, feeling the weight of the casting directors' gazes on us.

"Right," the showrunner said, glancing between us with interest. "Let's see how you two read together. Start from page seventy-three the scene in the library."

Luke nodded and stepped closer, script in hand. "You ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

And then, just like that, we began.

The library scene was pivotal Sophie and Benedict, caught in a moment of rare privacy, tension thick between them. She was the mysterious woman he couldn’t get out of his head, and he was the man who saw right through her defences. It was a dance of longing, restraint, and undeniable attraction.

But as soon as I delivered my first line, something happened.

Luke wasn’t just acting as Benedict. He was Benedict. His eyes locked onto mine with such intensity that I nearly forgot my next words. His voice dipped into something lower, something more intimate, and I felt it in my chest, my skin prickling in response.

I matched his energy, letting the emotions flow naturally, and suddenly, we weren’t just reciting lines we were feeling them.

The moment he stepped closer, invading my space, I felt my breath hitch.

"You cannot keep looking at me that way," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

"And how exactly do I look at you, Sophie?" Luke countered, tilting his head.

"Like you're searching for something in me that does not exist."

A slow, knowing smile curved his lips, and something in my stomach flipped.

"But what if I see something you do not?"

Silence hung between us, heavy, charged. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears.

Luke’s gaze flickered to my lips for the briefest second before he stepped back, breaking the moment, just as Benedict would have.

And just like that, the scene ended.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realised I was holding, my pulse racing.

For a few seconds, there was nothing but silence. Then, a chair creaked as one of the producers leaned forward.

"Well," the showrunner finally said, sounding almost amused. "That was... something."

Luke turned to them, his expression unreadable, but there was something alight in his eyes.

"She's Sophie," he said simply. "No question about it."

A surprised murmur rippled through the room.

I blinked, certain I had misheard. "What?"

Luke looked at me then, and his lips curved into the softest smile. "I know when something feels right," he said. "And that felt right."

I stared at him, speechless.

The producers exchanged glances, clearly intrigued by his confidence. The showrunner pursed her lips, looking thoughtful. "Luke, we still have more chemistry reads to go..."

"You don’t need them." His voice was calm but certain, unwavering. "I know chemistry when I feel it. And that?" He gestured between us. "That was real."

My mouth went dry. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been this stunned.

Luke turned to me again, his expression softer now. "You felt it too, didn’t you?"

I hesitated, but only for a second. "Yeah," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "I did."

A small, triumphant smile ghosted across his lips before he turned back to the casting team.

"Then there's your answer," he said simply.

For a moment, there was only silence. Then, the showrunner let out a small chuckle, shaking her head. "Well, that certainly makes our job easier."

And just like that, I knew.

I had the role.

I was going to be Sophie Beckett.

I wanted to scream, to cry, to do something, but I was too overwhelmed to move. My heart pounded wildly in my chest as I looked at Luke, who was already watching me with that knowing smile.

"Congratulations, Y/N," the showrunner finally said. "Looks like you’ve just secured yourself a role in Bridgerton."

I let out a shaky breath. "Thank you," I whispered, still trying to process it all.

Luke’s grin widened as he nudged me playfully. "I can't wait to work with you" he murmured.

for the first time since I stepped into that room, I allowed myself to smile.

Stepping into the rehearsal space for the first time in months, I felt a strange mix of nerves and excitement swirl in my stomach. The table reads for Bridgerton had officially begun, and with it came costume fittings, wig and make up trials, and endless rehearsals before filming kicked off.

The last time I had seen Luke was during our chemistry read the moment that had quite literally changed my life. His unwavering confidence in me had secured my role as Sophie Beckett, and now, here I was, walking into a room full of actors who already felt like a family.

And then, as if on cue, I spotted him.

Luke was already seated at the long table, script in hand, engaged in quiet conversation with Jonathan Bailey. His eyes flicked up just as I walked in, and immediately, his face broke into the warmest smile.

"There she is!" he announced, standing up as if greeting an old friend.

I couldn’t help but grin. "Been saving my seat, have you?"

"Naturally." He gestured to the chair beside him, his expression teasing. "Wouldn't want my favourite co-star getting lost, would we?"

I rolled my eyes but took the seat anyway, my heart doing an annoyingly giddy little flip.

Just as I set my bag down, Luke leaned in slightly. "I was going to ask," he said, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret, "what’s your go-to coffee order?"

I blinked, caught off guard. "Um… a vanilla oat latte, usually. Why?"

He just smiled, sitting back in his chair as if that was all the information he needed. "No reason."

I raised an eyebrow, but before I could question him further, the director called for everyone’s attention, and the first read-through began.

Over the next few days, we fell into an easy rhythm.

The morning after the first table read, I walked into the room, still bleary-eyed, only to be greeted by the scent of fresh coffee.

"Morning, Y/N."

I looked up to see Luke standing there, holding out a cup. "Vanilla oat latte, right?"

My mouth fell open slightly. "You remembered?"

He simply shrugged, that boyish grin firmly in place. "Seemed like important information."

I took the coffee, warmth spreading through my fingers and, if I was being honest, my chest. "Thanks, Luke. That’s really sweet."

"It’s nothing," he said easily, though the pleased look in his eyes suggested otherwise.

But it wasn’t nothing.

Because every morning after that, without fail, he showed up at just the right moment always with my coffee in hand, always with that infuriatingly charming smile.

One afternoon, after another long reading session, we were sent off to costume fittings.

I stood in front of a mirror, already partially laced into an intricate gown, watching as a seamstress adjusted the sleeves.

"How does that feel, my lady?" a playful voice sounded behind me.

I turned, my gaze landing on Luke as he leaned casually against the doorway. He was already in partial costume his waistcoat fitted perfectly, the crisp white of his shirt contrasting against the deep navy of his coat.

For a moment, I forgot how words worked.

"Um," I managed, blinking. "It feels… period-appropriate?"

Luke smirked, stepping into the room. "That’s what you’re going with?"

"Well, I can’t exactly say it feels like a comfy pair of pyjamas, can I?" I retorted, smoothing the skirts.

He chuckled. "Fair point."

"Where’s your cravat?" I teased, nodding toward his unbuttoned collar. "A true gentleman of the ton wouldn’t be caught dead like that."

Luke grinned, leaning in conspiratorially. "Don’t tell the costume department, but I’m rebelling against the cravat as long as possible."

"Scandalous," I gasped, playing along.

"You should report me to Lady Whistledown," he whispered.

I laughed, shaking my head. "You’re ridiculous."

He just smiled at me, and for a moment, we simply stood there, his eyes searching mine.

The seamstress coughed politely, breaking whatever spell had settled over us.

Luke stepped back, clearing his throat. "I should, uh, probably let you finish up," he said, scratching the back of his neck.

I nodded, suddenly feeling far too warm in the layers of fabric. "See you at the hair trials?"

"Wouldn’t miss it," he said with a wink before slipping out of the room.

The hair trials were an experience in themselves.

We were seated in a row, each of us trying on different styles, as the hair team fussed over every detail.

Luke, who was sat beside me, had been relatively quiet until they trialed a new hairstyle on him.

I barely had time to register the look of horror on his face before he turned to me, wide-eyed.

"Be honest," he said in a low voice. "Do I look like a man who’s just crawled out of the woods after years of solitude?"

I tried so hard to keep a straight face. I really did.

But the moment he lifted his brows in exaggerated distress, I completely lost it.

Laughter bubbled out of me, and soon, Luke was laughing too, shaking his head as he pulled the wig off.

"we can't do that," he declared to the hair team. "Y/N will never take me seriously."

I wiped at my eyes, still giggling. "I think you should embrace the wilderness aesthetic."

"Not a chance," he muttered, ruffling his hair.

The stylists chuckled as they discussed different options.

Luke turned back to me, a mischievous glint in his eye. "See? This is why I need you around."

I tilted my head. "To stop you from looking like a feral man in a romance series?"

He grinned. "Exactly."

By the end of the week, after countless readings, fittings, and more coffee deliveries than I could count, something had settled between us.

A familiarity. An ease.

Luke was effortlessly charming, endlessly kind, and always seemed to know exactly when I needed a pick-me-up whether it was coffee, a joke, or a simple smile.

On our final day of pre-production, as we walked out of the building together, he nudged me lightly.

"Excited for filming?" he asked.

I exhaled, letting the weight of it all sink in. "A little nervous, if I’m honest."

Luke looked at me, something warm and reassuring in his gaze. "You’ll be brilliant, Y/N. I have no doubt."

I smiled, feeling that familiar flip in my stomach. "Thanks, Luke."

"Anytime." He hesitated for a moment before adding, "And if you ever need anything on set or otherwise you know where to find me."

Something about the sincerity in his voice made my heart skip.

"Same goes for you," I murmured.

A small smile tugged at his lips, and for a moment, I thought he might say something else. But instead, he just reached into his bag and pulled out a takeaway cup.

"One last coffee before we start the madness?" he offered, holding it out.

I stared at him, touched beyond words.

"You’re unbelievable," I said, taking the cup with a shake of my head.

He simply grinned. "I try."

The first day of filming was a whirlwind.

I had been up before the sun, fuelled by a mix of excitement and nerves as I arrived at set. The energy was infectious crew members bustled about, adjusting cameras and lights, while costumers made last-minute tweaks to everyone’s outfits.

And then, of course, there was the cast.

I had met most of them at the table reads, but now, seeing them in full costume, it suddenly felt real.

"Y/N!" A voice called out as I stepped onto the main set, where the Bridgerton family’s grand house stood before me.

I turned to see Nicola Coughlan beaming at me, her Penelope curls pinned to perfection.

"You look amazing," she said, reaching out for a hug.

"So do you!" I grinned, hugging her back.

"You nervous?" she asked knowingly.

"A bit," I admitted.

"Oh, don’t worry, we’re all a mess on the first day," she reassured me. "Just wait till Newts forgets his lines for the first time it’s tradition at this point."

"Oi!" Luke Newton’s voice piped up as he joined us. "That was one time."

Nicola raised an eyebrow. "Was it?"

He sighed dramatically before turning to me. "Welcome to the madness, Y/N. Are you ready for the most chaotic, hilarious, and exhausting few months of your life?"

I laughed. "I think so?"

Before he could respond, Jonathan appeared out of nowhere, throwing an arm around my shoulders.

"Our new Sophie Beckett!" he declared grandly. "Welcome, darling. We’ve been waiting for you!"

I chuckled. "I feel very welcomed already."

"As you should!" He grinned, then turned to Luke T, who had just arrived, already in full Benedict mode. "And you, sir, have some very big shoes to fill."

Luke looked between us, confused. "Do I?"

Jonathan smirked, nudging him. "Oh, you know… romance, longing gazes, yearning… The Bridgerton way."

Luke rolled his eyes. "I think I’ll manage."

"Oh, we know you’ll manage," Luke Newton interjected, wiggling his eyebrows. "Especially with a certain co-star."

I glanced between them, confused, but Jonathan let out a knowing chuckle. "Ah, I see. Thompson’s already smitten."

Luke groaned. "Here we go."

I blinked. "Wait, what?"

"Nothing," Luke said quickly.

"Everything," Jonathan corrected, grinning.

Luke Newton clapped his hands together. "I say we keep an eye on these two. Something tells me there’ll be plenty of off-screen chemistry as well."

Luke shot them both a look. "Can we focus on the actual job, please?"

Nicola leaned closer to me, whispering, "They love to tease, don’t mind them."

I bit back a smile. "Noted."

Once filming officially began, the teasing didn’t stop but neither did the fun.

Our first scene was a grand ballroom sequence, filled with swirling dresses, twinkling chandeliers, and a sea of actors moving in perfect synchrony.

I stood off to the side, watching as the crew set up the shot.

"Not too overwhelming, I hope?" Luke appeared beside me, his voice gentle.

I smiled up at him. "It’s a lot, but in the best way."

He nodded. "I remember my first day. It was a blur of corsets, cravats, and trying not to trip over my own feet."

"Let me guess you tripped anyway?"

He sighed. "Spectacularly."

I laughed, nudging him lightly. "I’ll try to avoid making my grand debut that way."

"You’ll be brilliant, Y/N," he said, and the sincerity in his voice made my heart skip slightly.

"Thanks, Luke."

"Anytime."

Between takes, the entire cast fell into easy camaraderie.

Jonathan and Simone took turns making up ridiculous backstories for the extras in the background, while Nicola and Claudia had a full debate over whether their characters would secretly write Gossip Girl-style letters in the modern era.

Luke Newton, meanwhile, had somehow convinced the costume team to let him have a third helping of cake from the banquet scene, much to the director’s exasperation.

And Luke Thompson?

Well, he kept finding ways to be exactly where I was.

At lunch, when I was searching for an open seat, he wordlessly pulled out the chair next to him.

When I struggled with one of the intricate lace ties on my gown, he appeared behind me, effortlessly fixing it.

And, of course, he still showed up with my coffee every single time.

"You really don’t have to do this," I told him as he handed me yet another vanilla oat latte between takes.

He shrugged, grinning. "I know. But I like to."

I couldn’t fight the warmth spreading through me. "You’re ridiculously sweet, you know that?"

He tilted his head, eyes twinkling. "Don’t tell the others. I have a reputation to uphold."

I laughed, shaking my head. "Your secret’s safe with me."

By the time the sun began to set, marking the end of our first day, I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude.

Yes, the day had been long. Yes, my feet ached from hours of wearing heels.

But I had never felt more welcomed. More at home.

As I gathered my things, Luke appeared beside me once again.

"Survived day one?" he asked.

"Just about," I grinned.

He studied me for a moment before saying, "You belong here, Y/N. You really do."

My heart squeezed. "That means a lot."

"It’s just the truth."

For a moment, we stood there, the chatter of the crew fading into the background.

Then, with an easy smile, Luke gestured toward the exit. "Come on. Let’s get out of these ridiculous costumes before we become permanently laced into them."

I laughed, falling into step beside him.

Filming had been going smoothly for the past few days, each scene feeling more natural as I settled into the world of Bridgerton. The cast had welcomed me with open arms, and between the long shooting hours and endless costume fittings, I had quickly grown comfortable around them.

So, when my phone buzzed with a message from Luke one morning, I was already smiling before I even read it.

Luke: Morning, trouble. We’re all heading down to Bath together for filming today. Fancy squeezing into the chaos wagon with me, Jonny, Nicola, and Claudia?

I huffed out a small laugh, shaking my head.

Me: Chaos wagon, huh? Sounds risky.

Luke: Oh, it absolutely is. But I’ll let you have the front seat.

Me: Tempting offer…

Luke: I’ll even bring you coffee.

I snorted. Of course, he knew my weakness.

Me: Fine. But if I regret it, I’m blaming you entirely.

Luke: Deal. See you soon, love.

I should have known the car ride would be anything but peaceful the moment I stepped outside and spotted Luke behind the wheel.

"Welcome to the chaos wagon," he greeted, smirking as he leaned across the seat to open the passenger door for me.

"God help me," I muttered playfully, sliding into the seat.

Jonathan, Nicola, and Claudia were already crammed into the back, mid-argument over something I couldn’t quite make out.

"Just admit it, Jonny!" Nicola was saying, her voice full of exasperation.

"I refuse," Jonathan declared dramatically.

"It’s a fact," Claudia interjected. "You do take the longest to get ready in the mornings!"

Jonathan gasped in mock offense. "That is slanderous, and I will not stand for it."

Luke chuckled as he pulled out of the car park, giving me a knowing glance. "Still sure you don’t regret this?"

I shook my head, laughing. "I’m getting the full Bridgerton experience, aren’t I?"

"That you are," he agreed.

The drive quickly descended into complete and utter chaos.

Nicola and Claudia put on an early 2000s playlist, belting out every song with dramatic flair. Jonathan, not to be outdone, started making up ridiculous backstories for the passing roads.

"That road leads to a secret society of butlers," he said seriously as we passed a quiet country lane.

Luke shook his head. "I am never letting you sit in the front."

"Jealousy doesn’t suit you, mate," Jonathan quipped.

I was laughing so much my stomach hurt. I had never been on a road trip quite like this before one filled with so much energy, so much ridiculousness, and so much joy.

And then, in the midst of all the noise, something happened that made my breath hitch.

Luke took one hand off the wheel and rested it gently on my thigh.

It was a simple gesture. Casual, even. But something about the warmth of his palm, the way his fingers squeezed lightly, sent a sudden jolt through me.

I turned my head, and for a moment, it was just the two of us in our own little bubble.

His eyes flicked toward me, a soft smile playing at his lips.

"You alright?" he murmured.

I nodded, swallowing hard. "Yeah."

His thumb brushed over the fabric of my leggings, and my stomach did a ridiculous little flip.

And then

"OH MY GOD, DID YOU SEE THAT?!"

Jonathan’s voice shattered the moment.

"Luke Thompson, removing a hand from the wheel for romantic purposes?" Nicola gasped dramatically. "Someone alert the ton! Scandal!"

Luke groaned, his hand instantly retreating. "For God’s sake"

"IT’S HAPPENING!" Claudia declared.

"It’s not happening!" Luke shot back, though his face was definitely a little pink.

I, meanwhile, covered my face with my hands. "You guys are the worst."

Jonathan grinned. "Oh, come on, Y/N. Admit it Thompson’s got a soft spot for you."

I peeked at Luke, only to find him already looking at me. His eyes were unreadable, his lips twitching like he was deciding whether to fight back or lean into it.

Instead, he simply said, "Drive’s going to be a long one if you lot keep this up."

"Long and full of undeniable chemistry," Nicola corrected.

Luke sighed, shaking his head, but I didn’t miss the tiny smirk pulling at his lips.

I turned back toward the window, my cheeks still warm.

By the time we arrived in Bath, my stomach ached from laughing too much.

The car ride had been nothing short of chaotic Claudia and Nicola had somehow convinced Jonathan to create an official ranking of everyone’s most scandalous moments on set, and to no one’s surprise, he had decided that Luke’s hand on thigh moment was at the very top of the list.

"Mate, you have no idea the damage you’ve done," Luke grumbled as he parked the car in front of the hotel.

Jonathan smirked. "Oh, I do. I fully intend to capitalise on it."

I turned to Luke, trying to look serious. "You’ll never live this down, you know?"

He sighed dramatically. "I figured as much."

"Better get used to scandal, Benedict," I teased, stepping out of the car.

The hotel was stunning an elegant Georgian building with grand chandeliers and thick velvet curtains. It was the kind of place that made you want to walk around in a dressing gown, sipping tea like you were in a period drama even off-set.

I grabbed my room key from the front desk, only to glance over and see Luke holding an identical one.

"Room 214," I murmured, reading the number.

Luke lifted his own key. "215."

I huffed a laugh. "You again?"

He grinned. "Reckon the universe is trying to tell you something, love."

"Yeah," I mused. "That I should invest in noise-cancelling headphones."

His chuckle was soft, almost fond, as we headed upstairs.

After dropping my bags off, I flopped onto the bed for all of two minutes before my phone buzzed.

Jonny: "BREAKING NEWS. LUKE ‘THIGH TOUCHER’ THOMPSON AND Y/N ‘VICTIM’ L/N HAVE ADJACENT ROOMS. THE SCANDAL CONTINUES. MORE AT 10."

I groaned. He was never going to let this go.

Filming in Bath was special. The historic architecture, the cobbled streets, the way the city seemed frozen in time it made stepping into the Bridgerton world feel even more real.

And, of course, the cast made everything ten times more ridiculous.

"Right, everyone, places!" the director called, clapping his hands together.

We were filming an outdoor scene today, and the second I arrived on set, Jonathan was already stirring up trouble.

"A scandal must be addressed!" he announced dramatically, gathering the cast and crew like he was making an important political speech.

"Here we go," Luke muttered beside me.

"Last night, I was made aware of alarming news," Jonathan continued. "It has come to my attention that our very own Luke Thompson has been engaging in highly improper behaviour."

Luke sighed. "It was a knee-jerk reaction"

"It was a thigh-jerk reaction, actually," Claudia corrected, grinning.

The entire cast erupted into laughter.

I shook my head, trying (and failing) to suppress a smirk. "I’m never getting in a car with any of you again."

Nicola nudged me. "Oh, please. You love it."

"Debatable."

Jonathan, who clearly had no intention of moving on from this, turned to the director. "Sir, I do believe we should be adjusting today’s script to reflect this newfound scandal."

The director, who had likely seen far too much of our antics by now, simply pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just get into position, please."

Luke shot me a look half exasperated, half amused. "See what you’ve done?"

"I didn’t do anything!"

He arched a brow. "You existed in the front seat, Y/N. That was enough."

I rolled my eyes. "Should I be flattered?"

He leaned in slightly, voice low. "Only if you want to be."

And just like that, my stomach did that stupid, ridiculous, fluttery thing again.

Filming was a mixture of long takes, quick costume changes, and a lot of standing around waiting for the next setup. It was during those in-between moments that I really started to notice something.

Luke was always there.

Not in a weird way, but in the Luke way.

Like how, right after my first big emotional scene, he appeared at my side with a bottle of water and a small nod.

Or how, when I shivered in the cold between takes, he wordlessly draped his coat over my shoulders.

And, of course, how he still turned up with my favourite coffee at exactly the right moments, like some kind of caffeine-delivering wizard.

"You’re very good at this," I murmured as he handed me the cup.

"At what?"

"Knowing exactly when I need caffeine."

He smirked. "It’s a talent."

I took a sip, the warmth spreading through me. "You should put it on your CV."

"‘Professional coffee provider’?"

I nodded solemnly. "Future generations will thank you."

His laugh was soft, but his eyes lingered on mine a beat too long.

By the time we wrapped for the day, I was exhausted. Filming had run late, and all I wanted to do was collapse into bed.

As I was unlocking my hotel room, I heard a familiar voice behind me.

"Long day, huh?"

I turned to see Luke, leaning against his own door, looking just as tired as I felt.

"Yeah," I exhaled. "Fun, though."

He nodded. "You were brilliant today, by the way."

I blinked. "Oh. Um thank you."

"You’re really bringing Sophie to life," he added, his voice softer now. "It’s incredible to watch."

I felt my face warm. "That means a lot, coming from you."

His lips quirked up at the corner. "Should I be flattered?"

I rolled my eyes. "Only if you want to be."

He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head slightly. "Touché."

For a moment, we just stood there in the quiet hallway, neither of us moving to go inside.

Something about the stillness of it all the soft glow of the hallway lights, the way he was looking at me like I was something worth noticing made my chest feel oddly tight.

I cleared my throat. "Well, um… goodnight, Luke."

He hesitated, then gave me a small smile. "Goodnight, Y/N."

As I closed my door behind me, I let out a breath I hadn’t realised I’d been holding.

After a long day on set, there was nothing better than food.

Good food. Good company. And, if Jonathan had anything to do with it, absolute chaos.

So, when Nicola suggested going out for dinner, it took approximately three seconds for the entire group to agree. Within half an hour, we were packed into a restaurant in the heart of Bath, tucked into a booth that definitely wasn’t designed for this many people but somehow accommodated our rowdiness anyway.

The drinks flowed, the food arrived, and the volume at the table was immediately ridiculous.

"I would just like to formally announce that I am still traumatised from today," Luke declared dramatically, waving a fork in Jonathan’s direction.

Jonathan, who had spent the entire day again loudly broadcasting Luke’s scandal to anyone who would listen, merely smirked. "I was performing a public service."

"Public service my ass," Luke grumbled.

I snorted. "To be fair, you did bring it on yourself."

Nicola raised an eyebrow. "Exactly. Don’t rest your hand on a lady’s thigh if you don’t want to be called out, darling."

Luke groaned. "I hate it here."

"Cheers to that," Jonathan said, raising his glass.

Everyone clinked their drinks together, laughter bubbling around the table.

At some point between bites of pasta and stealing a piece of garlic bread from Luke’s plate (he absolutely noticed but didn’t say anything), I felt it again those small, unspoken moments between us.

A glance held a second too long. The brush of his knee against mine under the table. His fingers grazing my wrist as he reached for the salt.

Tiny, insignificant touches. But none of them felt insignificant.

Jonathan, ever the observer, caught more than a few of them.

"Interesting," he murmured into his drink at one point, eyeing us.

Luke shot him a look. "What?"

Jonathan sipped his wine, smiling innocently. "Oh, nothing."

I narrowed my eyes. "That wasn’t nothing."

He shrugged. "Just taking in the dynamics at play."

Luke sighed. "Jonathan."

Jonathan beamed. "Luke."

I looked between them. "Should I be concerned?"

"No," Jonathan said cheerfully. "But he should be."

Luke groaned. "I repeat I hate it here."

Later in the evening, after most of the table had moved on to dessert (and Claudia was passionately debating with Nicola over whether cheesecake counted as cake), Jonathan and Luke found themselves alone at the bar.

Jonathan leaned back against the counter, nursing his drink, eyes sharp as they flickered to where I was laughing with Claudia.

"So," he said casually, turning back to Luke.

Luke raised an eyebrow. "So?"

Jonathan smirked. "You like her."

Luke exhaled through his nose. "Observant, aren’t you?"

"It’s a gift," Jonathan said with mock modesty. "But seriously, mate. The chemistry between you two? It’s insane."

Luke glanced toward the table, his gaze softening as he caught sight of me mid-laugh, eyes bright, hand gesturing animatedly as I spoke.

"Yeah," he murmured. "I know."

Jonathan studied him for a moment. "When did you know?"

Luke didn’t hesitate.

"The second she walked into the chemistry read."

Jonathan tilted his head, surprised. "Really?"

Luke chuckled, shaking his head. "It sounds stupid, I know. But" He exhaled. "I just… knew. She was different."

Jonathan grinned. "You’re in so much trouble."

Luke huffed a laugh. "Yeah," he admitted, taking a sip of his drink. "I know."

Filming schedules rarely made sense.

One day, we’d be shooting an intense argument. The next, a scene that took place before the argument. And today?

Today, we were filming the wedding.

Luke wasn’t nervous.

Okay, that was a lie.

He wasn’t usually nervous, at least not when it came to filming. But as he stood on set, dressed in full Regency wedding attire, his hands clasped in front of him, he felt an unfamiliar kind of anticipation bubbling in his chest.

Then, I walked in.

I wasn’t even near him I was talking to the director across the room, adjusting my gloves as the costume team flitted around me. But it didn’t matter.

The second Luke saw me in the wedding dress, he forgot how to breathe.

"You’re kidding me," Jonathan muttered beside him.

Luke barely heard him.

"You’re actually Oh my God you’re actually gone for her."

Luke blinked, forcing himself to look away. "Shut up, Jonny."

Jonathan grinned. "Mate, I wish I could, but I physically can’t. I mean, did you see your face just now? It was like you’d been hit by a horse and carriage."

Luke exhaled sharply, shaking his head, but his heart was still racing.

How was he meant to act normal when I looked like that?

The set was breathtaking candles flickered softly, white flowers adorned every surface, and the grand church felt almost reverent in its beauty.

I stood at the end of the aisle, my hands clasped around a bouquet, heart hammering in my chest.

Luke was already waiting at the altar, his back straight, eyes fixed on me.

And for a moment, it wasn’t acting.

It wasn’t a character walking toward another character. It was just me and him.

The director called action.

I took slow steps forward, my heart pounding louder with each one.

Luke swallowed hard.

When I reached him, our hands met. His fingers curled around mine warm, steady, but slightly trembling.

The vicar’s words blurred in my ears. I was too aware of him. The intensity of his gaze. The way his chest rose and fell. The slight twitch of his fingers against mine.

And then

"You may now kiss the bride."

For a moment, neither of us moved.

Then, Luke’s hand slid up to my jaw, his thumb grazing my cheek. His touch was featherlight, hesitant, as if savouring the moment.

And then he kissed me.

It should’ve just been a scene. Just another part of the job.

But the second our lips met, the world tilted.

Sparks.

Actual, electric sparks shot down my spine, my skin igniting at the press of his mouth against mine.

His fingers tightened on my waist.

My hands curled into the fabric of his coat.

For a moment, we forgot.

Forgot about the cameras. Forgot about the people watching. Forgot about everything except the way we fit together so perfectly in that instant.

Then, the director called cut.

We pulled away.

Silence.

Luke’s eyes flickered over my face, his breath uneven.

I couldn’t speak.

Neither could he.

Because whatever had just happened between us whatever had shifted we both felt it.

But we didn’t address it.

We couldn’t.

So, we simply stepped back.

And the moment passed and we all reset and we continued to film different angles.

Luke barely made it off set before Jonathan grabbed him by the arm.

"Right," Jonathan said, pulling him into a quiet corner. "Tell me you felt that."

Luke ran a hand through his hair. "Jonny—"

"Luke."

Luke sighed, his mind still spinning.

He couldn’t lie. Not to Jonathan.

So, he exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah," he admitted, voice quiet. "I felt it."

Jonathan grinned. "Knew it."

Luke rolled his eyes. "Don’t."

Jonathan held up his hands. "I’m just saying damn. That was not just acting."

Luke didn’t respond. He couldn’t. Because Jonathan was right.

Meanwhile, in the costume trailer, a similar conversation was happening.

I sat in a chair as Nicola and Claudia flanked me, both staring expectantly.

"So," Claudia said, drawing out the word. "That was some kiss."

I groaned, covering my face. "Don’t."

Nicola grinned. "Oh, we absolutely will."

Claudia leaned forward. "You felt that, didn’t you?"

I hesitated.

Then, quietly, I admitted, "Yeah. I did."

Nicola and Claudia shared a look.

"Oh, this is gonna be fun," Nicola murmured.

I sighed.

It had been a few days since the wedding scene.

A few days since that kiss.

Neither Luke nor I had spoken about it.

We’d carried on as normal laughing, bantering, running lines together. But something had changed. There was a shift. A tension.

And our castmates? They definitely noticed.

Jonathan, Nicola, and Claudia were on a mission.

I should’ve known something was up when I walked into the green room and they were huddled together, whispering furiously.

The second I stepped in, they fell silent.

"Good morning?" I said, eyeing them suspiciously.

Nicola grinned. "Morning."

Jonathan cleared his throat. "You look nice today."

I frowned. "Thanks?"

"Anything new happening in your life?" Claudia asked, her tone far too casual.

I raised an eyebrow. "No?"

Nicola sighed dramatically. "How tragic."

Jonathan shot her a look before turning back to me. "Anyway, you busy later?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Why?"

Jonathan draped an arm over my shoulder. "Because, dear Y/N, we thought it’d be fun if you and Luke rehearsed your next scene alone. In private. Without distractions."

Nicola and Claudia nodded way too enthusiastically.

I crossed my arms. "What are you three up to?"

"Absolutely nothing," Nicola said, feigning innocence.

Claudia beamed. "We just think you and Luke should spend some quality time together."

I groaned. "Oh my God."

Jonathan patted my shoulder. "That’s a yes, then!"

Before I could argue, they were already rushing off to find Luke.

I was so doomed.

Their first attempt came during lunch.

Luke and I were the last ones in the costume department, getting some final adjustments done. When we went to leave

The door wouldn’t open.

Luke frowned, trying the handle again. "It’s locked."

I blinked. "That’s…weird."

From the other side of the door, I heard hushed whispers.

"Did it work?" That was Nicola.

"Shh! They’ll hear us!" Claudia hissed.

Luke and I exchanged a look.

Jonathan’s voice came next. "Okay, okay, we give it five minutes, then we let them out."

I groaned, knocking on the door. "Jonathan!"

"Who, me?" he said, all faux innocence. "I have no idea how this happened."

Luke ran a hand through his hair, trying very hard not to laugh. "Right. So, we’re locked in."

I sighed. "Apparently."

"Well," he said, leaning against the wall. "Might as well make the most of it."

The next attempt happened during scene rehearsals.

The script called for Luke and I to run a particularly intimate scene together. The plan was to practice in pairs before running it with the director.

Somehow, Jonathan, Nicola, and Claudia convinced everyone to swap partners leaving me and Luke alone.

I stared at Jonathan. "Seriously?"

He grinned. "What a coincidence."

Luke smirked. "They’re not subtle, are they?"

"Not even a little," I muttered.

Still, we went through the scene.

But the moment Luke’s hand brushed my waist, a shiver ran down my spine.

His fingers lingered just for a second.

And I knew he felt it too.

Jonathan, watching from the sidelines, wiggled his eyebrows.

I shot him a glare.

By the time we wrapped for the day, I was exhausted.

I was about to head back to the hotel when Jonathan suddenly appeared.

"Oh no," he said dramatically. "We’re out of cars!"

I frowned. "What?"

Nicola nodded solemnly. "So tragic. Guess you’ll just have to share with Luke."

I opened my mouth. Shut it.

Then turned to Luke, who of course had one available seat in his car.

Luke chuckled. "Come on, then."

With no choice, I slid into the passenger seat.

As we drove off, I caught sight of Jonathan, Nicola, and Claudia high-fiving.

I buried my face in my hands. "I hate them."

Luke laughed. "They really want us together, don’t they?"

I sighed. "Apparently."

He glanced at me, a small smirk playing on his lips.

"Can’t say I mind too much."

I turned to him, heart stuttering.

His eyes flickered to my lips.

Then, before I could respond

Jonathan’s text came through the group chat.

JONATHAN: Are you two kissing yet? 👀

I groaned reading it out loud to Luke.

Luke howled with laughter.

The steady rhythm of raindrops tapped against the windshield, soft and rhythmic, casting a hazy glow across the car's interior.

Luke had parked outside the hotel, but neither of us made a move to get out.

We just sat there.

The engine hummed softly, the only other sound between us aside from the rain. Streetlights flickered outside, casting golden streaks across the wet pavement.

I stole a glance at him.

He was gripping the steering wheel loosely, fingers tapping against it, as if working up the nerve to say something. His jaw tensed. Then relaxed.

I swallowed, my heart hammering.

The air between us was different tonight. He felt it. I felt it.

Luke exhaled, finally turning toward me. “So…”

I turned to meet his gaze, my lips parting slightly. "So," I echoed.

He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head as if laughing at himself. Then his voice turned quieter, more careful.

"I haven’t stopped thinking about it."

My breath caught. "The… kiss?"

His lips quirked, but there was nothing teasing about it. Just honesty. "Yeah."

A warmth bloomed in my chest, spreading through me like wildfire.

I took a shaky breath. "Me neither."

Luke's expression softened, and for the first time, I saw something unguarded in his gaze. Something real.

"I..." He hesitated, running a hand through his curls before finally meeting my eyes again. "I knew it was gonna be good, but I wasn’t expecting that."

I let out a breathless laugh, nerves buzzing beneath my skin. "Me neither."

His fingers flexed against his thigh, as if resisting the urge to reach for me.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

I swallowed. “Yeah?”

His gaze dropped to my lips.

And then, achingly slow, he leaned in.

He was so close I could feel the warmth of his breath, the faintest scent of coffee lingering between us.

My heart stuttered, everything else in the world blurring into nothing.

His hand lifted hesitant at first before brushing against my cheek, his fingertips featherlight. I instinctively leaned into his touch, my lashes fluttering closed.

Then, finally...finally his lips met mine.

Soft. Warm.

His lips moved against mine in a way that sent sparks racing through me, a kiss so slow and careful, like he was savoring every second of it.

And I was too.

I tilted my head, deepening the kiss just slightly, my fingers curling into the fabric of his sweater. He exhaled against me, his hand slipping to the side of my neck, his thumb tracing gentle circles against my skin.

It wasn’t rushed.

It wasn’t desperate.

It was everything.

When we finally pulled back, just a breath apart, neither of us moved away.

His forehead rested against mine, and for a moment, all we did was breathe.

His eyes fluttered open, and when he spoke, his voice was barely there.

“…Wow.”

I laughed softly, my lips tingling. “Yeah. Wow.”

His thumb brushed over my cheek. "I should probably say something witty right now."

I smiled. "You really don’t have to."

His eyes searched mine, filled with something that made my stomach flip. "Good," he whispered. "Because I just want to stay right here."

And so we did.

Just us.

Just this.

For as long as we could.

The world outside the car had faded away. It was just me and Luke, our voices low, soft laughter lingering between us as we basked in whatever this was this shift, this new, delicate thing blooming between us.

His fingers traced light patterns on my knee, our foreheads nearly touching as we whispered to one another, smiling like idiots.

And then

BANG BANG BANG!

I screamed, jerking away from Luke as a chorus of cackling erupted outside.

Luke jumped, smacking his head against the headrest as his hands shot up defensively like he'd been caught committing a crime.

Outside the car, Nicola, Claudia, and Jonathan stood by their own parked vehicle, smug as hell.

"Oi, lovebirds! You finally confess your undying love, or are we still dragging this out?" Jonathan yelled, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

Nicola clutched her stomach, laughing. "Oh, their faces! Look at them!"

Claudia pounded on the window again for good measure, making me jump. "Don’t be shy, open up!"

Luke groaned, dragging a hand down his face as I covered mine entirely. “I hate them,” he muttered, voice drenched in amusement.

I bit my lip, barely suppressing my laughter as I reached for the door handle. “If we don’t get out, they will break in.”

Luke sighed dramatically before shoving his door open. "Right, you absolute menaces"

I stepped out too, the cool night air biting against my skin, and was instantly met with the three of them grinning like feral goblins.

Jonathan folded his arms. “So? Did we miss anything?”

I opened my mouth then immediately closed it, warmth rising in my cheeks.

Luke cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck. “Um.”

Nicola’s eyes sparkled with mischief. "Ohhh, this is juicy."

Claudia gasped, smacking Jonathan’s arm. “Wait. WAIT. Did something happen?”

Jonathan narrowed his eyes. "You did tell each other, didn't you?"

Luke and I exchanged a glance before looking anywhere but at them.

"OH MY GOD, YOU DIDN’T!" Nicola shouted, horrified.

Jonathan groaned, throwing his hands up. "How are we still in this slow burn? We need progress, people!"

Luke rolled his eyes, nudging me forward. “Come on, let’s just go to our rooms before they....”

“Oh, no no no, we are not done here!” Jonathan called after us.

Ignoring them, Luke and I started toward the hotel, the car park lights glowing around us. My heart still raced from before, but I didn’t feel nervous anymore.

Because, just as we passed under the lights, Luke reached for my hand.

Without hesitation, he laced our fingers together.

I stole a glance up at him, but he was already looking at me, a small, shy smile tugging at his lips.

I squeezed his hand. He squeezed back.

And just like that, we were us.

When we reached our rooms right next to each other Luke stopped outside my door.

He turned to me, still holding my hand, then gently pressed a kiss to my forehead.

It was soft. Warm.

Then he pulled me into a hug, his arms wrapping securely around me.

I melted into him, my hands gripping his jumper as I closed my eyes, breathing him in.

We stayed like that for a few seconds until our peaceful moment was shattered by the loudest, most chaotic screaming behind us.

"OH MY GOD, GET IN THERE, Y/N!"

"WOOOO, LUCAS!"

"SEX MAGNET STRIKES AGAIN!"

"LOCK THE DOOR, YOU COWARD!"

Luke groaned into my hair, and I buried my face in his chest, dying of laughter.

We turned slowly to see Jonathan, Nicola, and Claudia standing a few feet away, losing their minds.

Jonathan had his hands cupped around his mouth like a sports commentator.

Nicola was doubling over with laughter.

And Claudia? She was full-on crying from how hard she was laughing.

Luke let out a dramatic sigh, dropping his head onto my shoulder. “We are never going to hear the end of this, are we?”

I grinned, squeezing his hand once more before finally pulling away, the warmth of his touch lingering on my skin.

"Nope," I said, smiling up at him. "Never."

And honestly?

I didn’t mind one bit.

Lying in bed, I was still smiling.

The warmth of Luke’s hug lingered, the feel of his lips pressing against my forehead replaying in my mind like a favorite scene from a movie.

My phone vibrated beside me.

Luke: They’re never going to let us live this down, are they?

I giggled, biting my lip as I typed back.

Me: Not a chance. I think Jonathan’s planning a full-on wedding at this point.

His reply came almost immediately.

Luke: I wouldn’t put it past him. Should I be worried about getting fitted for a tux?

Me: You’re assuming I’d say yes.

Luke: Please. You’re obsessed with me.

I rolled my eyes, my cheeks warm as I typed.

Me: Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that, Bridgerton.

There was a pause. Then

Luke: Can I come in?

My heart skipped.

Me: For what?

Luke: A proper goodnight kiss.

I stared at my screen, pulse quickening.

My fingers hovered for a second before I finally typed back.

Me: Door’s open.

Not even ten seconds later, there was a quiet click as my door opened, and Luke slipped inside, his hair slightly tousled, wearing a hoodie and sweats.

"Hi," I murmured, watching him step closer.

"Hi," he said softly, a small smile playing on his lips.

He moved slowly, almost hesitating, before he finally sat on the edge of my bed.

And then, with a warm, gentle hand, he cupped my cheek and leaned in.

The kiss was soft, slow, and sweeter than I could have imagined.

His lips pressed to mine with the kind of tenderness that made my heart ache in the best way.

When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against mine, his breath warm against my skin.

"That was better," he murmured, his thumb stroking my cheek lightly.

I let out a breathy laugh, my heart still racing. "Better than what?"

Luke pulled back just enough to look at me, a teasing glint in his eye. "Better than the first one."

I rolled my eyes. "That was for work."

"Was it?" His voice was softer now, and the way he was looking at me like he was seeing something he never wanted to look away from made my stomach flip.

I swallowed, suddenly very aware of how close he still was. "No," I admitted quietly. "It wasn’t."

His lips quirked up in a small, knowing smile, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he shifted on the bed, lying back against my pillows like he belonged there.

I raised an eyebrow. "You making yourself comfortable?"

He grinned. "You did say the door was open. Thought that was an invitation."

I huffed a laugh, shaking my head before shifting to lie beside him. He lifted his arm, letting me tuck myself against him, his body warm and solid beneath the hoodie.

For a while, we just lay there, the sound of the rain still pattering gently against the window.

"You know," Luke murmured after a while, his voice quieter now, "I really did feel it. That first kiss."

I tilted my head up to look at him. "Me too."

His arm tightened around me slightly, like he was pulling me closer without even realising it.

"Good," he whispered. "Because I really, really like you, Y/N."

My breath hitched.

There was nothing teasing in his voice now. No playful smirks or sarcastic remarks just honesty.

I swallowed hard, my fingers gripping his hoodie slightly. "I really, really like you too, Luke."

His lips parted slightly, his blue eyes searching mine like he was committing this moment to memory.

Then, instead of kissing me again like I half-expected, he just smiled, his eyes soft and filled with something that made my chest ache.

"Come here," he murmured, pulling me even closer until my head rested against his chest.

I let my eyes flutter shut, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

"Stay?" I asked softly, already half-asleep.

His lips brushed the top of my head. "I'm not going anywhere."

A loud knock at the door jolted me awake.

"Y/N! Are you ready?" Claudia's voice rang through the door, far too energetic for this time of the morning.

I blinked, my brain struggling to catch up. Why did my pillow feel so… warm? And why was there an arm draped over me?

Oh.

Oh no.

I turned my head slowly, only to find Luke still fast asleep beside me, his curls messy from sleep, his lips slightly parted.

Panic surged through me.

"Luke!" I hissed, shoving at his chest.

He groaned, stirring slightly. "Hmm?"

"Wake up!" I whispered urgently. "We overslept!"

Another knock.

"Y/N?" Claudia called again. "We need to leave soon!"

Luke's eyes flew open. I could practically see the realisation hit him all at once.

"Shit," he muttered, sitting up quickly, rubbing a hand over his face. "We didn't set an alarm."

"No, we didn’t!" I whispered, frantically untangling myself from the duvet. "You need to go. Now."

He nodded, already getting up. He was still in his hoodie and joggers from last night, which made it easy enough for him to slip out unnoticed. At least, that was the plan.

Luke crept toward the door, shooting me a quick look over his shoulder before carefully pulling it open.

Unfortunately, Claudia was still standing right there.

Her eyes widened in slow motion as Luke stepped out.

Mouth agape, she turned her head as he casually strolled next door and slipped into his own room like nothing happened.

There was a beat of silence.

Then, Claudia burst through my door.

"OH. MY. GOD."

"Shhh!" I waved my hands frantically, trying to shut her up before she woke up the whole hotel.

Claudia ignored me completely, flopping onto my bed dramatically. "You and Luke! LUKE!"

"It’s not what you think," I groaned, rubbing my temples.

Claudia gasped. "Did you?"

"No!" I cut her off before she could even finish the question. "We didn’t do anything!"

She squinted at me, not looking convinced. "So you’re telling me Luke just happened to leave your room, looking very comfortable, and it was all innocent?"

"Yes!" I sighed, sitting down next to her. "We were talking last night, and then he asked if he could come in for a proper goodnight kiss"

Claudia let out a high-pitched squeal, grabbing a pillow and smacking me with it.

"Stop!" I whined, laughing despite myself. "Let me finish!"

She huffed, crossing her arms but still bouncing excitedly. "Continue."

I rolled my eyes. "So he came in, we kissed, and then we just… laid here talking. It was really nice. But we must have fallen asleep, because next thing I know, you're banging on my door."

Claudia groaned dramatically, falling back onto the bed. "This is so much better than I imagined."

I snorted. "What did you imagine?"

"Something much less soft and romantic," she admitted with a grin. "So, what now?"

I hesitated. "I… I don't know."

Claudia sat up again, her expression softening slightly. "Do you want to know?"

I nodded slowly. "Yeah. I really do."

Her grin returned. "Then you will. Because if I know Luke and I do there is no way that man is going to just let this be a one-time thing."

I bit my lip, feeling warmth creep up my neck.

"You're blushing," she teased.

"Shut up," I muttered, unable to stop the smile forming on my lips.

Claudia threw an arm around my shoulders, giving me a playful shake. "Oh, I love this. I love this for you. I love this for me. And you know Nicola and Jonathan are going to lose their minds when they find out."

I groaned. "Oh god. They're going to be so annoying, aren't they?"

Claudia grinned. "Absolutely."

By the time we arrived on set, it was game over.

Claudia had immediately told Nicola and Jonathan everything, and, as expected, they were being insufferable.

The moment Luke and I stepped onto set, Jonathan let out a long, exaggerated gasp.

"Would you look at that," he announced loudly, nudging Nicola beside him. "The lovebirds have arrived."

I shot him a glare. "Jonathan."

"What?" He smirked innocently. "I’m just observing."

Nicola, standing beside him, was beaming. "Oh, this is my favourite day."

Luke, to his credit, handled it well at least at first. He just chuckled, shaking his head, keeping his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

But then Claudia decided to add fuel to the fire.

"You should’ve seen her this morning," she said, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. "Absolutely radiating."

"Was I?" I deadpanned.

"Oh, absolutely."

"Mate," Jonathan said, looking at Luke now. "You stayed the night."

Luke sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "It wasn’t like that."

Jonathan cackled. "That is exactly what people say when it was like that."

Nicola gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. "Oh my god, do we have an on-set romance brewing?!"

Luke and I exchanged a look, both flustered beyond belief.

"Nothing happened," I reiterated, already knowing it was pointless.

Jonathan hummed in thought. "Mmm, see, I want to believe you, but considering I watched you two practically devour each other with your eyes at dinner the other night, I’m inclined to think otherwise."

I groaned, covering my face.

This was going to be a long day.

The teasing never stopped.

Every time Luke and I so much as stood near each other, one of them had something to say.

During rehearsals, we were running lines when Claudia suddenly interrupted.

"Sorry, I just" She turned to the director. "Can we make sure Luke and Y/N are focused? Or are they too busy making heart eyes at each other?"

I gaped at her. "Claudia!"

Luke just laughed, shaking his head, but his ears were definitely pink.

Then, during hair and makeup, Nicola waltzed in, a mischievous look in her eyes.

"So," she said, plopping onto the chair beside me, "do we think Luke is a good cuddler?"

I choked on my coffee.

The makeup artist had to pause to make sure I wasn’t about to spill everything all over myself.

"Nicola," I warned.

Nicola grinned. "I mean, you would know."

I gave her my best unimpressed stare. "I hate you."

"You love me," she corrected.

And then Jonathan joined in.

"You know," he mused, "I did hear Luke humming to himself this morning. Suspiciously happy, if you ask me."

Nicola gasped. "He was humming?"

Jonathan nodded solemnly. "Like a man who has known true happiness."

"STOP," I whined, covering my face again.

Luke, sitting in the chair on the other side of the room, just shook his head with a soft chuckle.

They were never going to let this go.

At lunch, I was sitting with Luke when Jonathan suddenly slid into the seat beside me.

"So," he said, stirring his drink nonchalantly, "how does it feel to be Luke Thompson's chosen one?"

Luke choked on his water.

I sighed. "Jonathan, I swear to..."

"And you" He pointed at Luke. "I can’t believe you haven’t kissed her today. What kind of weak game is this?"

Luke exhaled a laugh. "Mate."

"Mate me all you want," Jonathan continued, grinning. "But you’re slacking."

Nicola, sitting across from us, nodded solemnly. "He does have a point."

Luke gave me a look, his lips twitching into a smirk. "Should I?"

I rolled my eyes. "Don’t give them anything."

Jonathan gasped. "A denial? Oh, this is even better."

I groaned, dropping my head onto the table. "I hate all of you."

Luke just chuckled, nudging my knee under the table.

It had been a few days since the endless teasing, and while Jonathan, Nicola, and Claudia were still making plenty of comments whenever they got the chance, things had slightly calmed down.

Until today.

Because today, Luke and I were scheduled to rehearse one of the most intimate scenes in the show.

And we were absolutely doomed.

The large rehearsal room had been set up with a few props and a couch in the centre. The intimacy coordinator, Sophia, was standing with the director and writer, walking us through the scene.

Luke and I sat beside each other, scripts in hand, nodding along as Sophia explained the choreography.

“This is a deeply emotional moment for both of your characters,” she said, glancing between us. “It’s raw, vulnerable, and full of yearning.”

Luke exhaled softly beside me. I snuck a glance at him and saw his jaw tense slightly, his fingers tightening around the edge of his script.

Yeah. We were definitely in trouble.

“Now,” Sophia continued, “we’re going to start by breaking it down into beats.”

She turned to Luke.

“Your character will enter, see her standing there, and there’s this moment of hesitation before you cross the room. You’re drawn to her like you have to touch her. And then, when you finally do, it’s…” She made a small, sweeping motion. “It’s electric. You both know what’s about to happen.”

I swallowed hard.

It already felt hot in here.

Luke nodded, his fingers tapping against his knee, like he was focusing intensely. “Right.”

Sophia turned to me. “And you your character is just as affected. When he touches you, it’s like the air has been sucked from the room. You can barely breathe.”

I exhaled shakily.

Luke noticed.

His lips twitched in amusement, his voice teasing as he murmured, “You alright?”

I shot him a look. “Shut up.”

He grinned.

The director, completely unaware of our little exchange, clapped his hands. “Alright, let’s try the first beat.”

Luke stepped back, shaking out his shoulders, then turned toward me.

As soon as our eyes met, the shift was instant.

His whole posture changed his gaze darkened slightly, his lips parted, his hands flexed at his sides like he was aching to touch me.

And damn, he was good.

I stood there, my breathing shallow, waiting.

Then he moved.

Crossing the space between us, slowly, like he was being pulled toward me.

By the time he reached me, my heart was pounding.

His hand lifted, fingers hovering just over my arm.

“Do you want me to touch you here?” he asked, his voice low, as per the intimacy guidelines.

I barely managed to nod. “Yeah.”

His fingers brushed my bare skin, and I nearly shivered.

Holy hell.

Sophia clapped her hands. “Great! Let’s pause here.”

I exhaled sharply, stepping back, trying to collect myself.

Luke looked just as flustered, rubbing the back of his neck with a very subtle smirk.

Sophia grinned. “How’s that feel?”

Luke let out a breathless chuckle. “I mean… yeah. Feels good.”

I rolled my eyes. “Such insightful feedback, Luke.”

His smirk widened. “Happy to help.”

Then came the actual kissing part.

Which was an entirely new level of torture.

Sophia walked us through the angles, where to place our hands, how to make it look natural while keeping it choreographed.

But none of that prepared me for the moment Luke’s lips actually touched mine.

It was soft, slow, testing like he was discovering something dangerous and thrilling at the same time.

His fingers brushed my jaw, guiding me into it, and god, it was unfair how good he was at this.

Heat pooled in my stomach, and I could feel his breath against my skin when he moved his lips from mine down seductively down my throat, his breath hot as his lips barely touched my skin, making me swallow hard. He kept going, leading down across my chest to my cleavage, where his hand grasped my boob through my top, and he looked up through his thick lashes like his character was silently asking for permission, and in turn, he was also actually asking me permission, and I nodded very small, hardly noticeable, and he pretended to latch to my nipple. I was clothed but it still made them erect with the warmth of his breath through my T-shirt.

There was a brief silence.

Then the director clapped his hands. “Brilliant! Let’s do it again.”

Luke let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah, sure. Again.”

I swallowed. “Yep. Again.”

We were so screwed.

later that night the hotel room was dimly lit, a soft glow from the bedside lamp casting long shadows along the walls. The air outside was cool and damp from the lingering drizzle, but inside, there was a warmth one that had nothing to do with the temperature and everything to do with the man sitting beside me on the bed.

Luke leaned back against the headboard, one arm draped lazily over the back of the pillows, his fingers idly playing with the edge of the script resting between us. He’d been quiet for the past few minutes, which wasn’t entirely unusual, but I could feel something brewing in the air between us.

Then, finally, he exhaled, tapping the pages of the script against his knee before looking at me.

“I was thinking,” he started, hesitating just slightly, “if you’re comfortable with it… maybe we could run through the scene again? Just the two of us. Without an audience.”

I blinked.

I hadn’t expected that.

“The...” I shifted slightly. “The intimate scene?”

He nodded, sitting up a little. “Yeah. I just thought… rehearsing it alone might help. Make it feel less, I don’t know, performative? Less like we’re being observed and more like… just us, figuring it out.” His voice softened, cautious, like he didn’t want to push too far. “But only if you’re okay with it.”

I chewed the inside of my cheek.

It wasn’t a bad idea. In fact, it actually made a lot of sense. The whole point of these scenes was to feel natural, effortless, full of emotion and that was hard when we had a room full of people analysing every breath and movement.

And it wasn’t like we’d be doing anything we wouldn't be already be doing in the actual scene.

Still… the thought of going through it in this setting alone, in a hotel room, with no one watching but us made my stomach tighten.

Not in a bad way.

Just in a way that made me very aware of how close Luke was sitting.

I swallowed. “Yeah. Okay.”

His eyes searched mine for a second, like he was making sure I meant it, and then he smiled, soft and warm. “Okay.”

Luke sat up properly, setting the script aside. “Alright,” he murmured, rolling his shoulders back slightly, slipping into that same headspace he’d been in earlier during rehearsals.

I mirrored him, shifting so I was sitting across from him, knees nearly brushing.

This scene was a turning point for our characters a moment charged with unspoken emotions, where a touch meant more than words. Where longing turned into action.

Luke exhaled, then slowly so damn slowly he reached for me.

Just like he had in rehearsal.

Fingers hovering first, as if giving me space to pull away, before he finally, finally touched my skin.

It was supposed to be choreographed. Precise. But here, in this moment, with no one watching, it felt different.

More real.

His fingertips brushed along the side of my arm, barely there, and yet it sent a trail of warmth straight down my spine.

I knew I was supposed to react to let my character’s emotions show through me but I wasn’t entirely sure which part of me was acting anymore.

Luke’s jaw tensed slightly, his breathing shifting just enough for me to notice.

He was feeling it too.

We went through the scene touches, pauses, deep breaths lingering in the space between us. And then, finally, the kiss.

Luke hesitated for just a beat, eyes flickering to mine, waiting.

And I leaned in first.

The moment our lips met, everything else fell away.

The scene was supposed to be soft at first, testing, and then deeper more desperate, more needing. And damn, if Luke didn’t follow that rhythm perfectly.

His hand cupped my jaw, tilting my face just enough to deepen the kiss, and I felt my fingers instinctively gripping the fabric of his shirt.

He then moved again down towards my ear and then down my neck, his breath hot again as his lips barely touched my skin.

He kept going, leading down across my chest to my cleavage, where again his hand grasped my boob through my top, and then he did that thing again where he looked up through his lashes at me.

The eye contact he shared was so intimate, and then he pulled my top over my shoulders and head, and the cool air instantly made me shiver.

His hot hand came back up to my breast, and he palmed it through the thin lacy bra I had on. He looked up again, asking permission, and I nodded, and his hands went behind my back, working on undoing the little clips holding it together.

When he finally got it, he slowly took it off and immediately latched to my nipple.

I knew when I auditioned that I would be signing up for real boob stuff, but the rest would all be faked softcore porn where it was choreographed to look real, but we would have modesty garments...except for the breast play that was very real.

And man, was this such a surreal moment. I couldn't help but slip out a moan...a real moan.

He looked up again and smirked as he moved to the next breast, sucking and biting that one, and I had to close my eyes; it felt so good.

He moved to lay me back on the bed and crawled slowly on top of me.

He takes his time kissing down my body, making me relax further from each kiss, and then he gets towards my pussy, and he nudges my legs a bit, looking back up and making eye contact, pulling up my skirt and my knickers to the side. 

"I want you to look at me no matter what," he demands, and I nod, watching as Luke sticks his tongue flat out and licks a stripe up my pussy, making me gasp and close my eyes. 

"Look at me," he says. I force my eyes open again and watch him as he continues to suck and bite the sensation, something I've never experienced quite like this before. 

I was getting closer; he was working his magic on me while we continued our eye contact, making this all the more hotter. I had no idea anything could feel this right. 

I bit my lip, and I knew I was close. He knew too and stopped and started kissing his way back up my body, kissing me, letting me taste myself.

He moved and positioned himself in between my legs and made eye contact again.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" He said so softly and gently, and I nodded quickly, unable to form words as he pushed in his cock slowly. I knew better than to close my eyes even though that's the only thing I wanted to do right now. In this very short time, I realised why he wanted to look into my eyes; it was the best way to read how a person felt, staring straight into their soul, seeing the pleasure and the pain show in their eyes.

One of my hands tangled in his hair, pulling slightly as my other hand dragged my nails down his back.

"Fuck," the word sounding so dirty coming out of his sweet mouth. 

He leaned back in, and we were making out. The butterflies in my stomach were no joke. This just felt so right. Like, this is how it's always meant to feel. 

We continued for a while, finding our rhythm, our bodies working together just like Mother Nature intended. 

"I'm close," I whispered. 

"Me too." He was breathing heavily and began kissing my neck in the moment, not even caring if he left a hickey. 

I came first, but he wasn't long after. We were both breathing heavily in. hot sticky mess, our hair all messed up. We lay next to each other for a second, just catching our breaths and replaying what just happened.

A heavy silence settled between us.

Then, finally, Luke huffed a small, breathless laugh.

“Well,” he murmured, voice slightly hoarse, “I think that was… productive.”

I let out a shaky laugh, nodding. “Yeah. Very… methodical.”

He grinned, thumb brushing absentmindedly against my wrist before he finally sat back, giving us both some much-needed distance.

And yet, as I met his gaze again, I knew we were both thinking the exact same thing.

We were so beyond rehearsing.

The aftermath of filming the intimate scene was… surreal.

The second the director called cut, the air felt thick not just between Luke and me, but throughout the entire set. It was like everyone had collectively forgotten to breathe.

I could still feel him.

The ghost of his touch on my skin, the warmth of his breath against my lips, the way his hands had held me like I was something precious.

And from the way Luke was still looking at me, his chest rising and falling slightly deeper than usual, I knew he felt it too.

For a moment, no one spoke.

Then, the director exhaled a breath that almost sounded like relief before breaking into a wide smile.

“That,” he said, pointing between us, “was stunning.”

The entire crew murmured in agreement, nodding, exchanging glances like they had witnessed something.

“That felt so incredibly real,” the director continued, stepping forward. “It wasn’t just technically perfect it was authentic. It had depth, and connection and...” He laughed, shaking his head. “It was like watching two people who are actually in love.”

Luke and I exchanged a look.

Then, at the same time, we both grinned, biting back laughter.

“Must be our undeniable chemistry,” Luke said smoothly, eyes twinkling.

I hummed in agreement, nudging him slightly with my shoulder. “Truly a natural phenomenon.”

The director chuckled, shaking his head in amusement before clapping his hands together. “Alright, let’s reset for the next scene.”

The crew quickly dispersed, leaving Luke and me standing there, the echoes of what we’d just done still hanging between us.

And that’s when the trouble arrived.

I should have known we wouldn’t get away with it.

Not with them lurking around.

Nicola, Claudia, and Jonathan practically ambushed us the second we stepped off set, their faces radiating mischief.

“Well, well, well,” Jonathan drawled, arms crossed as he rocked back on his heels. “Would you look at who just wrapped the most romantic scene of the season.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, here we go.”

Claudia gasped dramatically. “You think we weren’t going to bring it up?”

Nicola nodded eagerly, leaning in. “I mean, you did just make half the crew believe you were really about to have sex.”

Luke snorted, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Come on...”

“No, no, no, don’t come on us,” Jonathan interrupted, pointing a very accusatory finger at Luke. “Do you know what the crew was saying?!”

I frowned. “What?”

Jonathan grinned wickedly. “One of them told me that it was so soft and intimate that it felt like they were intruding on a private moment between two people genuinely in love.”

Luke and I froze.

Nicola wiggled her eyebrows. “Anything you’d like to share with the class?”

I let out a deep sigh. “We were acting.”

Jonathan gasped. “You’re telling me that level of yearning was just acting?”

“Obviously,” Luke said smoothly, though the smirk tugging at his lips totally betrayed him.

Claudia grinned. “You sure about that, lover boy?”

Luke gave her an unimpressed look. “Yes.”

Jonathan hummed, unconvinced. “Mmm. If you say so.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “You lot are so annoying.”

Nicola shrugged. “And yet, here we are.”

Claudia clapped her hands. “Anyway, we just wanted to congratulate you on giving the best love scene this show has ever had.”

Jonathan waggled his eyebrows at Luke. “And on finally embracing your inner romantic lead.”

Luke sighed dramatically. “God, I hate you all.”

I just laughed, nudging him gently. “Come on, Mr. Authentic Chemistry, let’s get out of here before they start planning our wedding again.”

Jonathan gasped. “Wait. That’s an idea—”

“NOPE.” Luke grabbed my hand and dragged me away before they could say another word.

But even as we walked off, their laughter ringing behind us, I couldn’t shake the smile on my lips.