#had this revelation the other day and it made me so sad

[espers-n-espurrs]

OFFSCREEN POST

Olive Branch

TWs // CWs : Hospitals, Discussions of Child Death, Discussions of Kidnapping / Child Abduction, Panic Attacks, Violence, Injury, Gore, Blood

Connected to Connecting Roots and Uprooted.

No one liked being in the hospital. 

It was mind-numbing and draining, having to stay in one little room for days on end all the while doctors and nurses poked and prodded at you. It wasn’t just the medical staff that had been bothering Esper though. Police and other official looking people came and went, asking her questions that made her uncomfortable and forced her to reevaluate so much about what she knew. She didn’t like it. She didn’t like being told she was “safe now”, she didn’t like being told she was “in good hands”, she didn’t like how they talked about her da and mum, she didn’t like any of it. 

Esper stared up at the ceiling with an unfocused gaze, listening to the ticking of the clock. Her face almost seemed ghostly pale if not for her reddened cheeks and nose from hours of crying accompanied by the deep bags beneath her eyes from lack of sleep. Her hair was out of its braid, white threads spooled around her in messy strands like the roots of a tree, branching off into different paths. She looked like a mess.

Everything was out of her hands. She didn’t get a choice in any of this. Her entire life had changed in a matter of days and she wasn’t sure how she was meant to feel. Her da and mum had lied to her. They had been lying to her for so long. And yet she couldn’t even begin to understand how she felt about it all. Was she angry? Sad? Happy?

A small knock on the door cut through her thoughts.

Esper’s head slowly turned toward the door, her brows furrowing slightly in aggravation. It was probably more pushy cops coming to ask her about her da. Fucking wonderful.

With a roll of her eyes she called out to them, “Come in.”

The door creaked open slightly to reveal an exhausted-looking Victoria. Despite her attempts to appear composed, the stress lines and dark circles beneath her eyes betrayed any semblance of imperturbability. Clearly, the recent revelations had been taking as much of an emotional toll on her as they had on Esper.

Esper gasped as she snapped into a sitting position, “Tor–!” She was swiftly cut off as a sharp pain shot through her chest, causing her to double over in the bed, her arms wrapping tightly around her torso as she let out a hiss of pain. “I… I shouldn’t have done that…”

Victoria instinctively lunged forwards and reached a hand out to her, but slowed herself the moment she realized Esper was not immediately dying in front of her. “Are…” She began to ask something, but trailed off with a pause before saying, “I was going to ask if you were alright, but I suppose that would be a bit redundant of me, now would it?”

The white haired girl slowly sat back up, wincing as she let out a small laugh, “Just– Just a bit, I think.” Esper looked at Victoria with a small smile, “Though I’m not the most happy about people seeing me in such a state… with my hair being down and all.”

“Oh. I can leave if you—”

“I’m joking, Tori.”

To Esper’s surprise, Victoria chuckled with a slight smile. “I thought you were—” She instantly shut her mouth right before the punchline, her face falling into a frown. She looked at her friend with an unsure tilt of her head.

“Esper.” The girl stated without hesitation, “I want to be called Esper. Or, as you have been calling me, Esp.”

“Right.” The young heiress drew in a quiet breath and nodded. “Then… Esp it shall be.”

Esper smiled in turn. She wasn’t ready to be Estelle, she didn’t know if she ever could be. It was strange really, finding out that your name isn’t your name, at least not in the way you thought it was. But she could understand why her da did it, at least from his point of view, it would’ve made everything easier for him if she didn’t have her legal name. 

Though that did make her wonder…

“Why the hells didn’t my da change my brother's first name?” Esper suddenly asked aloud, tilting her head to the ceiling in thought, “Why’d he keep his first name?”

Victoria shifted uncomfortably on her feet, uncertain of how to respond. 

Esper continued, “And it’s not like I can fuckin’ ask him since he fuckin’ vanished after the second Darkest Day…”

“Vanished…?”

Esper blinked in response, turning her attention back to Victoria before glancing away with an awkward chuckle as if it was funny, “Ah– Yeah. I was the last one to see him that day, he found me during the chaos and promised to go get help. He… uh… never did. No one’s found him so we don’t know what happened to him.”

The other girl’s brows furrowed. “Forgive me for asking, but how are you so certain that he never sought help?”

“Oh, I didn’t mean like he didn’t try–” Esper vaguely gestured with her hand, “It’s just that my da and authorities were the ones to find me and Juno. And they hadn’t been told by Flynn that we were there, so they tried to interview anyone they could and no one stepped forward about having been spoken to by Flynn during the disaster. So, he may have tried, though he never actually managed to get help.”

She tilted her head. “Juno?”

“I– I should just give the rundown.” Esper responded, shifting in her bed to get more comfortable before continuing on, “So. Juno was my closest friend in Spikemuth and we spent a lot of time together. On the day of the big championship match, he was over at my old flat. It was just him, me, his Nickit named Polaris, and my da’s Obstagoon named Maverick. We were having a good time until, well, the second Darkest Day started in which Maverick… was one of the Pokemon to dynamax.”

Victoria winced slightly. “In… the house?”

“In the flat building… yeah.” The girl nodded as she began to fidget with her gown, “With both me, Juno, and his Nickit in the flat with him. And so many others in their neighboring flats…” 

She thought back to that day. Roars and calls of Pokemon shook the earth around her, echoing throughout Spikemuth and the surrounding area. The weight of concrete and brick crushed her body so tightly that she could barely fill her lungs with the dust-filled air. Metal debris pricked at her skin, jabbing at her sides and mudding her hair with crimson. She couldn’t move, she could barely cry out as all her energy was dedicated to keeping her alive and awake.

If only Juno could’ve been as lucky. 

He was alive for a while, whispering promises of life and safety to Esper in the darkness of their prison, though his body laid frighteningly still as crimson slowly pooled around him. His mind and body grew weaker by the second. He had been impaled when the building collapsed on top of them— a large, jagged piece of rusted metal had been lodged straight through his shoulder and into the debris below. Polaris was curled up to his side, beaten and battered as much as the two children, chirping and crying to his trainer. 

She remembered the way Juno’s eyes grew duller by the hour. Until they were cloudy and lifeless.

Victoria looked past the girl before her with a thousand-yard stare. The ticking second hand on the clock came to a stop, filling the room with a discomforting silence.

“We were trapped for nearly the whole day– But Flynn found us early on. He promised to go get help and… well… he never came back.” Esper let out a shaky breath, her face feeling hot, “And by the time help did arrive… Juno had been dead for several hours.”

The other girl shut her eyes and turned her head away, reaching a trembling hand to her chest. “Excuse me for a moment, Esper.” She took several deep breaths until her hands stopped shaking and the stress lifted from her face. The clock resumed its ticking, returning the familiar ambiance to the once silent room. 

After a moment, Victoria cleared her throat with a wince and gestured to her head. “Um— Mind-reading.”

Esper blinked before flushing red, waving her hands frantically, “Ah– I’m sorry– I forgot– I’m sorry I’ll just stop now I’m sorry–” The girl promptly tried to fill her mind with other things such as memories of Fauna and Deerling.

“No, no, it is through no fault of your own,” Victoria tried to reason with her. “It simply caught me off-guard is all.”

“Are you sure…?” Esper looked up at her with big eyes.

“Positive. You needn’t apologize, Esp.”

“Okay…” The girl nodded in return, “I was done anyways though. That’s about everything… Well not… everything… but all the really important things.”

“I see,” she said, finally turning to look back at her friend. “If I may be so bold to ask, do you… think Flynn is…?”

“Alive? Dead?” Esper hesitantly shrugged, “I don’t know. I don’t know which I would rather, which would hurt less… If Flynn is dead then… he’s gone. But if he’s alive… then he left me to die.”

Before Victoria had time to respond, there was a knock at the door.

The girl raised an eyebrow, then looked to Esper. “Are you expecting company?”

Esper huffed in response, grimacing at the door, “No. It’s probably another officer or doctor or something. Let me just–” She raised her chin to the door and called out, “Come in!”

The door slowly opened to reveal a lanky man in a black and green jacket, his hood pulled tightly over his head and casting his face in shadow. His attire was worn and dirty and his demeanor seemed akin to a kicked dog with how he hunched in on himself and how his hands trembled at his sides. He hesitantly stepped into the room, closing the door behind him before turning in the direction of the two girls in an awkward fashion. 

Esper and Victoria exchanged glances for a moment, then eyed the man wearily.

The man stood there silently for a minute, staring at Esper specifically for an agonizingly long before clearing his throat, “So– Um–”

At that moment, a flash of recognition and utter hatred crossed Victoria’s face. An invisible force suddenly yanked the man towards the girl while she winded up her fist and connected it directly into the center of his face. The force of her punch snapped his glasses in half and knocked the hood off of his head.

Flynn Wyrmwood was knocked to the ground, clutching his nose in pain.

With a snarl, Victoria looked down at the man and hissed, “Hablando del rey de Roma, por la puerta asoma.” She raised her leg to stomp—

“VICTORIA–” Esper shouted. “DO NOT… stomp… on….” Her voice trailed off as she looked down at the older boy. A boy with darker skin than hers and yet had the same pure white hair and lavender eyes with white pupils shining brightly. Esper repeated, her heart leaping into her throat as she took in the sight of the boy, “Victoria. Stop.”

The young heiress looked back towards her friend, then to the coward at her feet. She narrowed her eyes at him, but gently lowered her foot to the floor and stepped away. “Get up,” she spat at him. A sudden force lifted him off the ground and flipped him onto his feet— not too kindly, however. The momentum from the flip threw him forwards and he bashed his face into the side of the hospital bed. 

Flynn grunted in pain, barely managing to catch his footing before slowly dragging himself into a standing position, blood dripping from his nose. “Yeah– Yeah no– I deserved that–”

“Indeed you do,” Victoria cut him off.

“Victoria. Stop harming him.” Esper scolded before turning her attention to the bloodied boy infront of her, her eyes scanning his face. It was him. It was actually him. He was alive. He… he was alive. 

That hurt.

“Esper…” Flynn stared back at her, seemingly also studying her. A ragged breath left him as he spoke, “You’re alive.”

“You left me.”

“I know. I’m sorry–”

Esper cut him off, her chest tightening, “You left me to die. You left Juno and I to die.”

“I’m sor–”

“Juno is dead!” Esper spat. Tears had begun to well up in her eyes, “And you’re alive.”

Victoria glared silent daggers at Flynn. If looks could kill, he’d have perished where he stood.

He paused, opening his mouth to speak before closing it again and looking down in shame, “I’m sorry…”

The white-haired girl stared at her brother in silence for a while. The ticking of the clock was the only indication that time hadn’t stopped. 

“Why now?”

Her brother looked up at her, blinking.

“You had plenty of chances to come back. And yet you didn’t.” Esper asked, her body aching as emotions welled up inside her.

Flynn glanced away, “I… I was scared. I am scared. Father scared me, I was scared if I came back or told anyone then…”

“You knew.”

“I…” He winced, “I did. Yes.”

“You knew the entire time.” Esper’s gaze was hundreds of miles away, “That’s why he didn’t change your name.”

Flynn only nodded in response.

The white-haired girl gripped her blanket between her hands. Her thoughts became foggy with all the questions she wanted to ask him, but one stayed at the forefront of her mind.

“Why are you here?” She asked. “Da is gone now, you could no longer be a missing person.”

Flynn took a deep breath and looked his sister in the eye, “I… I wanted to give you the choice on if I did or not…”

“What?”

“I hurt you, Esper,” her older brother swallowed, “I hurt you a lot. I didn’t want to suddenly come stomping all over it again. So I wanted to give you that choice.” He wiped the blood from his nose as he knelt down by her bedside, “Do I come back home or do I go back to whatever hole I crawled out of?”

Victoria furrowed her brows and wrinkled her nose at him.

“I…” Esper trailed off, staring down at her brother with teary eyes. Why was she being asked to choose? Why did she have to make that choice? Why was this the only choice she’s been allowed during this whole fiasco? Why this of all things? She hadn’t seen her brother in nearly two years, she had thought he was dead somewhere, possibly eaten by some Pokemon or the like. But… here he was. Asking her to make a life-altering choice for him.

She felt sick.

“I…” The girl blinked, tears running down her face before she sharply turned away from her brother. As she spoke her voice seemed almost devoid of emotion. Almost. “Stop being missing... Come out of hiding… You…” She glared at him from the corner of her eye, “You don’t get to run from this.”

Her brother gave a small smile. Tears began to run down his face, dripping onto his now bloodstained jacket. “I won’t. I promise.”

Scene End.

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

Victoria belongs to @victoria-vd

[jamminvroomvroom]

no more mister shy guy.

OP x fem!reader

in which you can’t work out why he just won’t sleep with you

i am neither normal, nor am i hinged! i hope you guys get the vision, i literally wrote this last night possessed by some feral urge bc i just love oscar sm and i’ve been needing to write for him sooo baaad. enjoy! pls lemme know what you think <3

songs to set the vibes: delicate by taylor swift, good looking by suki waterhouse, my kind of woman by max demarco, feeling myself by wolf alice

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, pwp but also there is some plot? overstimulation, crying in a hot way, choking, unprotected sex (L bozo don’t do that!) the most minor moment of angst, fluff

2.8k words

you watch him make coffee, daydreaming, balancing your heavy head on your hand. you study him while your free hand taps against the kitchen counter, nails drumming a random beat. sunlight streams through a gap in the curtains, framing him golden. you don’t think he knows how pretty he is.

oscar is oblivious to the way your mind is ticking behind him, twisting the cap on the carton of oat-milk. you hear the plastic fall onto the counter and your tongue wets your lower lip as he reaches up into the cupboard, his back flexing beneath his shirt as he finds your favourite mug. you realise then how swollen your lip is, snapped out of the trance he had you in, the one that had you biting your lip so hard, completely mindlessly.

he’s bulked up over the winter break, filled out a lot over the course of his rookie season. he’s no longer the scrawny, anxious guy you’d met at your fathers work event a year ago, he’s broader, thicker in your hands, utterly delicious. as much as you like the way he looks, you like his mind a whole lot more. if only you knew what was going on inside it.

oscar is an enigma, quiet, hilariously dry, the kindest man you’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. you’ve been together since the start of the winter break, november, after awkward run ins and plenty of pining since the start of his first season. you’d travel to races with your dad, a mclaren sponsor, and run into the australian, stare at each other and pretend no one noticed. after months of teasing from lando, oscar finally got the kick up the arse that he needed and you’d said yes to dinner before he’d even finished asking the question.

it’s february now, a week til he needs to be in bahrain. the last three months had been serene, spent with a man made of sunshine, and you’re sad to see him go, as if you won’t be in the emirates a mere four days after him. you fear the way you’ll ache for him, having been inseparable since the dinner that started it all.

but then again, it can’t be worse than the way you ache for him now.

“sweetheart?” oscar is waving his hand in front of your face when you realise he’s been calling your name for a good 15 seconds, and you have, in fact, been staring. hm? you jump, staring at him bewildered. he looks amused. “you okay?” he coos, sliding the coffee across the island towards you.

“yeah, sorry, i, um, i just- why won’t you have sex with me?” you blurt, slapping your hand over your mouth as soon as you realise what you’ve just said.

oscar just blinks, mouth forming a little o, the permanent blush he seems to have increasing tenfold. you instantly feel guilty for ambushing him, but you were at the end of your tether. three months of nothing, nada, zilch. every move you made was refuted, ignored as if he was oblivious. you were ravenous for him, he’s so gorgeous! and you didn’t want to pressure him, but you were starting to feel like there was something wrong with you.

you’d wake up in bed with him wrapped around you, grinding against your ass in his sleep, and you’d revel in it, the rare times that he actually seemed to want you like that. you loved him regardless, of course you did, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t need to be… dealt with. urgently.

“i- um- what?” oscar splutters, and the bottom of his mug blinks against the granite.

“is there something wrong with me? am i not pretty enough?” you whisper, shy. “do you just not… like- do you not want to do that?” you ramble.

panic fills his face, and he’s rushing around the island, by your side in an instant. he takes your hands into his, finding your eyes. they’ve grown watery, a mixture of guilt and desperation swirling in them which makes him feel ill.

“baby, no, god no.” he rushes the words out, desperate to convince you that it wasn’t you. “you’re the most beautiful person in the entire world, prettiest girl i ever saw.” he promises. “i’m just… it’s scary.”

“oh, osc.” your face falls, and you want to throw yourself off of the balcony. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to pressure you. if it makes you feel better, i’m scared too. but i love you so much, i just want to feel even closer to you.”

“you didn’t make me feel pressured, i’m just sorry i made you feel unwanted. trust me, i want you like that. drives me insane. but i’ve never had sex before with someone that i love. not the way i love you, anyway. scared that i won’t be good enough for you.” he murmurs.

you’re hung up on the part where you drive him crazy, the part where he loves you like that, and then you remember how vulnerable he’s being, baring his entire soul to you, and you rip yourself from the fantasy.

your hands smooth over his shoulders, until you’re softly fisting a clump of hair at the nape of his neck.

“i love you. insanely. we’ll go slow.” you state. he moulds further against you, and you quickly realise it’s for leverage, because the next thing you know, you’re in his arms. he has his hands hooked under your thighs and he’s kissing you so, so deeply that you’re dizzy. you don’t realise that you’re halfway to his bedroom until he pulls away.

“i don’t wanna go slow anymore.”

oscar places you on your feet at the end of his bed, the large, plush king-sized mattress that is currently calling both of your names. your blouse gets unbuttoned first, his hands shaking in a way that makes you melt, and his lips trail over every inch of bare skin that he uncovers. when it finally falls to the floor, his pupils are blown wide, his hands palming intricate black lace. your jeans are stripped away mercilessly, his hands shaking less now, and you take it as a sign to crawl backwards onto the bed.

he stands there, watching you, apprehensive again. you can see how hard he is, how desperately strained his cock is through the light grey of his sweatpants, and so you switch tactics. your hand grazes your tummy, skimming up your abdomen until you reach a bra strap. you toy with the elastic, holding the kind of eye contact that makes him twitch, tugging it until it hangs loosely off of your shoulder.

“i need you, osc. i trust you.” you utter, soft and enticing. one finger runs under the cup of your bra, flicking over your nipple. he can just about see the hardened bud through the lace of your bra. it’s not enough, though, and every ounce of self control depletes when you whine, “want you inside of me so badly.”

the elastic band snaps and he’s on top of you, rutting between your legs like a man starved. you drag his shirt up and over his shoulder blades, moaning as you feel each and every muscle under your fingertips.

“just wanna make you feel good.” oscar rasps, rolling his hips even harder into your core.

“take these off.” you beg, pulling at the waistband of his joggers. he somehow musters the strength to pry himself off of you, just long enough to discard the uncomfortable material of his sweats, but as soon as he looks down, his plans change.

painted over the crotch of them is a shiny pool of your slick, and when his eyes flit hungrily to your core, he sees where you’ve soaked through your panties. you’re panting when you see the stain, and you just want to get him inside of you, but his priorities have changed. oscar collapses between your legs, head buried, tongue exploring.

he groans, carnal and needy, into the fabric of your underwear, laving his tongue over the lace. your eyes widen as he dives in, licking over the wet patch until he grows frustrated. you hear the tearing of the fabric, feel his big hands pawing at your thighs to spread them as wide as they’ll go. his tongue slides right inside of you and he whines. he fucking whines. the vibration nearly makes you scream. you can’t believe this is your oscar, the same oscar that had quivered with nerves a mere five minutes ago.

“oh my god.” you chant, rolling your hips against his face. you must be all over him by now, what with the way he’s sucking and slurping, obscene sounds of wetness sounding around the room. you’d be blushing a deep red if you weren’t so turned on, shaking against his bedspread which will probably need changing once he’s done with you.

you thought that maybe he was inexperienced and that was the source of his fear, but if he was, you never would have known. he was a natural in between your legs, nipping at your clit to get you even louder for him.

you cum faster than ever, and he’s mumbling something incoherent into your pussy when you do. you’re riding the high, midway through the bliss, when a thick finger slips its way inside of you. oscar realises that he can easily slide another in, and he does. he doesn’t thrust them in and out, he grinds them against your walls, and your mouth falls open as a silent scream forces it’s way out.

you cum a second time, in record time yet again, and he still doesn’t let up. he’s hitting that spot relentlessly with his fingers, keeping your clit between his swollen lips, and you’re begging him. for what, you’re not sure, but you’re whimpering his name like you’re going to die. and what a good way to go this would be.

his eyes meet yours, and he looks unhinged. that’s when you feel it. that all consuming, belly twisting rush.

“oscar!” you try to warn him, but it’s too late, and he knows it. he makes you squirt, because of course he does. the shy guy who was scared that he wouldn’t be able to please you makes you squirt.

he pulls his mouth off of you but keeps his fingers buried deep, eyes fixed on watching the way your pussy convulses.

“holy shit.” you cry. you’re staring down at him like you’ve gone insane. he’s smiling innocently.

“was that good?” he almost sounds shy and you want to kick him.

“are you… are you serious?” you rasp. oscar just shrugs. “get up here.” you reach for him and complies, slotting himself between your legs once more.

oscar resumes the rolls of his hips, and the friction of the grey fabric against your core makes your eyes roll back.

“please, oscar, fuck me.” you whine, his head falling into the crook of your neck. he bites down, leaving behind the sting of his teeth and a faint purple splotch.

“fucking love you.” he slurs, his accent thickening in a way that makes him sound that extra bit fucked out already.

“i love you.” you murmur, forcing his sweats down his legs. his boxers are wet, just like your panties were, and you can’t help but stare. oh, it’s big.

his boxers are peeled down and you can feel yourself throbbing. his cock hangs heavy, red and dripping, painfully hard. you reach for it, looking at him to make sure it’s okay to touch, and he’s rapidly nodding his head. your small hand struggles but you make it work, and his head tips back, exposing his thick neck that you want to suck purple. your hand works over him a few times, and a visible shiver running through his body makes you stop.

“you ready for me?” he asks through gritted teeth.

“please.” you gasp, locking your legs around his waist. “however you want me, ‘m yours.” you breathe.

oscar’s eyes roll back in his head, your words sending his brain blank, and then he’s pushing home, slow and deep.

“fucking hell.” he groans, guttural. you’re so tight, warm, soaking wet. he feels like the biggest idiot in the world for waiting so long for this.

“oh.” you gasp, your eyebrows knitting together. he’s so deep. “so full.” you pant.

“can you take it, sweetheart?” oscar’s lips bump your jaw. “want you to take it.” you nod profusely, desperate to hear him run his mouth even further. your eyes clench shut when you feel him move, just the tiniest bit, readjusting.

“move.” you plead. he’s staring down at you, watching every single micro movement of your face.

oscar pulls out the smallest bit and thrusts back in, nice and slow. the drag drives you feral, the weight of him on top of you makes you weak. you want to stay like this until the end of days.

“good?” he hisses, trying to keep composed. he’s finally inside of you, claiming you as his in the most intimate way of all. he tries not to think about how many times he could have had you begging under him in the last three months.

“so good, so good.” you repeat, pushing your hips up to try and meet his.

“so pretty like this for me. always so, so pretty.” he rambles. he realises that he never quite made it as far as getting your bra off, and he needs to see all of you. the cups are tugged haphazardly down, and oscar stares at your breasts like he’s never seen tits before. you hear him hum, low and greedy, and then you feel the wet drag of his tongue across your nipple.

the animalistic whine that he rips from you makes him thrust harder, upping his pace a bit. he can hear how much wetter you get when he picks up his pace, and he changes up his rhythm, pushing all the way in and dragging out again at lightning speed. your jaw goes slack and your eyes are damp.

“baby, what’s wrong?” oscar slows to a stop, and you want to scream.

“no, no, no, keep going.” you choke out, your throat constricting with a sob. “it’s so good. feel so good.” you sound drunk, all for him, and he loses his mind completely.

he taps into that athletic stamina, fucking into you with a newfound vigour that you didn’t think was humanly possible, and you feel things that you didn’t even know you could feasibly feel. you see stars behind your eyes, his face, and nothing else but bright white. calloused fingers find your clit, and you wonder fleetingly if he’s trying to kill you when he rubs messy shapes into the much too overstimulated bud. his teeth graze your nipple, and everything seems to come together perfectly.

thick tears run hot down your cheeks, only to be licked away by eager tongue. your belly tightens, aflame for him; he’s wound your body up perfectly and you’ve never in your life teetered so dangerously over the edge.

“can feel you, baby. want you to cum, okay? ‘n then i’m gonna fill you up.” oscar grunts. you clamp down on him even tighter, thanking god for oscar’s filthy fucking mouth and birth control, and then everything snaps.

you think you scream, you know that you’re sobbing, and your throat is raw when the wave hits. oscar keeps going, intensifying your pleasure, and when he finally let’s go, it’s the most beautiful fucking thing you’ve ever seen. it’s surreal, the way his neck flexes, eyes clenched tight, brown locks flopping over his sweat damped forehead. and the sounds he makes, god. he’s muttering into your ear, lewd and shameless, and a fifth orgasm nearly takes you under.

“gonna need you everyday like this, tight fucking pussy, all mine. can’t live without this now. fucking perfect.” he’s rambling, burrowing deep into you one last time. you feel his warmth spilling into you, feel his hot breath fanning your face. he licks into your awaiting mouth.

“fuck.” you giggle, breathless.

“good?” he raises an eyebrow, grinning bashfully.

“more than worth the wait.” you whisper, mustering the strength to lift your head just enough so that you can peck his lips. “you better not hold out on me ever again though.” oscar laughs at that and you feel the rumble in your flushed chest.

“you promise?” there’s the shy guy again.

“osc, honey, that was the best. ever. ever. need you to be mr sex god more often.”

“only if you behave for me.” he smirks down at you.

“there he is.” you sigh happily.

when he snakes his way back between your legs, lapping up the mess he’s made, and then some, you wonder just what you’ve unleashed.

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whoops? lol

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(run outta space on my taglist lol, lemme know if u wanna be added or removed)

[sayuri-of-the-valley]

On how Crowley and Aziraphale felt during the kiss (but mainly Crowley here):

Ok so first, the main idea for this huge meta is that a LOT of us noticed how the music from the kiss scene is similar to the nebula one, right?

Second, a lot of us also correctly noticed the parallels between the kiss and how it was to taste food for the first time for Aziraphale: bc of his reactions, the hand on lips, the similar way MS acted both scenes, the little inhale etc. So how was it for Crowley?

Aziraphale's reaction to the kiss is practically a puzzle to solve on its own, so it's fun to analyse it, but basically, in a few words, Aziraphale kissed Crowley and he discovered he was physically starving for him, longing for him, yearning for him, for his kiss, and he had no idea. Just like with the ox. And now he needs to gorge himself in him but he can't. Great amazing heartbreaking chef's kiss someone give MS an Emmy.

But there's already so much amazing meta out there about Aziraphale x Ox ribs x The Kiss that I want to focus on Crowley here, and on the music.

So back to the music. The song in "Before the Beginning" and the song that plays during The Kiss (I Forgive You + Don't Bother) are so similar. They're not *exactly* the same, but they're totally reminiscent of each other. The viewer is immediately reminded of those chords that played in the opening scene. It's no coincidence that the fandom was talking about this fact only minutes after first watching those final fifteen minutes. This is an obvious intentional choice for storytelling reasons (David Arnold is a genius).

I have no expertise whatsoever when it comes to music, so I asked our friend @otsanda to see if that made sense and not only it does and she explained it, but she also uncovered so much more hidden meaning in all of it (musicians are amazing), so check out her meta about the music that not only serves as evidence to what I'm proposing here but it also has so much more juicy information in it 💖.

Back to the point: WHY thought? Why choose a similar song? Why intentionally COMPOSE a similar song for that moment?

Hear me out. WHAT IF, by reminding the audience of the creation of the nebula, they meant to convey to us that, for Crowley, kissing Aziraphale gave him the same feeling that creating his stars did?

THAT'S what the music is telling us. THAT'S why it makes us remember "Before the Beginning". It may sound cheesy, but Crowley may have literally seen stars when he kissed Aziraphale. He couldn't react accordingly (just like Aziraphale couldn't), bc it was an overwhelming and extremely sad moment (the music is also telling us that) for both of them. They knew it was ending . They were both having a moment of huge revelation that was fated to not come to completion. Crowley was right, it was too late.

It makes sense to show Crowley's feelings through the music, bc he was the one who started the kiss, and also he was wearing sunglasses in that scene, it's different from a character like Aziraphale that has all his million expressions for everyone to see at all times. And they've been doing this ever since s1 with the Queen songs that play in his car or in the background.

So my point is: the same song being used there makes me wonder if kissing Aziraphale finally gave him what he lost. His purpose. What Aziraphale was trying to give back to him by taking him back to heaven. There's no need for Heaven. Just kiss him, Aziraphale, and there he'll find the stars you want to give back to him. There you will one day see that smile on his face you saw Before The Beginning. Neil Gaiman and David Arnold I am in your walls 😭

This is what may lead us to see this happiness in Crowley again (not the action of kissing itself, of course, but what it represents to their relationship, them being together, them being an Us).

As @otsanda said: from the music we can interpret that that moment was a Revelation for them. Almost a religious experience. Crowley found his purpose again. What he'd been missing the whole season (or even his whole life since the Fall, but we've seen him especially depressed this season).

I'm not even getting into the poetry of how one can interpret the parallel to the angel's reaction to the kiss as carnal, and the demon's as religious; that would be another whole essay but let's just agree that it's incredibly beautiful. (Let me be clear that I mean here Aziraphale's reaction is carnal specifically for Crowley, and Crowley's is religious specifically for Aziraphale, not religious as in "worshipping god")

"Do you ever wonder what's the point?" Crowley asked in s2e1. The point, for him, is Aziraphale (if you've seen The Good Place you know what I mean). I hope he figured this out with that kiss, even as heartbreaking as it was. Even if it was a (temporary) separation kiss. (I hope Aziraphale figures this out with time too, that he's more than enough to make Crowley happy, that Crowley doesn't need Heaven, or stars, that Crowley needs him.)

Maybe that's why Crowley didn't leave and kept waiting outside until the very last moment.

Aziraphale and Crowley both bit the apple at the end of s2. There's no turning back from that Knowledge now.

Edit: I just have to add here this brilliant colour analysis of the nebula scene by @halemerry. And it's pointed out that during the nebula formation there's a moment when it looks like two people embracing. And the fact that a similar song is used in the actual Kiss scene I just... I have no words

[iluvzaddies]

drunk confession

pairing: thomas shelby x reader

warnings: alcohol consumption, slight nsfw

summary: thomas shelby walks into your bedroom in the middle of the night and confesses his love for you.

you awoke from your slumber after hearing the door to your room suddenly open in the middle of the night.

you felt your heart pound through your chest, scared that it was one of billy kimber’s men, ordered to harm you as a way to get back at the peaky blinders.

but you needn’t fret for it was only thomas shelby.

thomas was the leader of birmingham’s renowned gang, the peaky blinders, and the second eldest son of the shelby family.

you knew him when he was a young lad. he used to be a troublemaker, always bringing trouble everywhere he went. he laughed a lot too.

you, on the other hand, used to be a loner. you didn’t have a single friend whatsoever. you were always alone, a sad look plastered on your face as you watched other kids getting along and playing with each other. young tommy felt bad for you, therefore, offered to let you play with him and his siblings. from then on, you became close and formed a bond, not only with him, but with his siblings too.

it was sad how much things have changed after the war in france.

the horrors of the war had changed him drastically.

he became a soulless, empty shell.

but there was one thing that didn’t change, and that was his feelings for you.

he always felt a sense of peace whenever you were around. you were a breath of fresh air and a reminder of his childhood days, where he hadn’t gone to the war yet, where he didn’t live a life of crime, where everything was normal.

he didn’t want to admit it, though. he was never good at expressing himself…

…until tonight.

“tommy!” you gasped. “why are you here?”

“because i can.” he said nonchalantly.

“just because you can doesn’t mean you should.” you huffed in frustration.

he shrugged.

“how did you get in my house?”

“key under your doormat.” he drawled, approaching you drunkenly.

you let out a squeak as he collapsed on your bed, nearly crushing your legs.

“okay, congratulations for knowing where i keep my house key, but that doesn’t give you the right to just barge in my house.” you looked at the clock on your wall, checking the time. “especially at three in the morning, you dimwit!”

“‘m sorry… it’s just… i’ve been thinking about you.. a lot– actually, an unhealthy amount. i couldn’t help it. i just wanted to see you again.”

“what?” you blinked.

“you heard me.”

“yes, i did, but…” that was unexpected. “what exactly do you mean by that?”

“by god, woman.” he sat up and you flinched when he started to yell. “how fucking oblivious are you? i’m in love with you, for fuck’s sake!–“

you covered his mouth, shushing him, trying to get him to calm down. you were already dealing with a drunk thomas, who barged into your home uninvited, and the last thing you wanted was to deal with noise complaints from your neighbors.

“please, quiet down, will you?”

he grabbed your wrist, prying your hand off his mouth and guiding your hand to his cheek. he closed his eyes, sighing in bliss, reveling in the warmth of your touch.

“tommy.” you muttered under your breath.

“i mean it, (y/n). i love you. i’ve loved you ever since we were kids.”

was it true?

was it really true?

well, you were aware of the saying: “drunk words are sober thoughts”

and that made your face heat up.

“i–“ you gulped, trying to build up the courage to confess, so he didn’t think it was one-sided. “–i love you too, tommy. i’ve loved you ever since you offered to let me play with you when i had no one to play with.” you moved your thumb up and down his cheekbone. “you may be a dangerous gangster to the world, but you’re just tommy to me. my tommy. you think you’ve changed, but deep inside, that innocent, kind-hearted little boy is still there.”

thomas’ lips curved up, a genuine smile on his face.

you widened your eyes.

it had been so long since he smiled in such a way that you had forgotten just how beautiful it was.

he leaned towards your face and connected your lips together. you were caught off guard, but happily obliged and kissed him back.

he tasted like a mix of cigarettes and whisky. nonetheless, it was amazing.

he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. he entwined your fingers together and with his other hand, he pulled your body against his.

he proceeded to gently place you on your back, with him on top of you, not breaking the kiss for a second.

“fuck, i love you.” he said in between kisses. “i love you so much. i’ve been dreaming about this moment my whole life.“

he roamed his hands around your body whilst you raked yours through his hair.

he pulled away just to get a quick glimpse of your messy appearance before reconnecting your lips.

he slithered a hand under your nightgown and you moaned as his fingers made contact with your clothed clit, rubbing it through your undergarment until a wet patch formed.

he moved your nightgown up to your stomach, fiddling with the elastic band of your undergarment, and yanked it off. he reached down to touch your bare pussy, inserting two fingers inside. with how wet you were, he was able to put them in with ease.

your moans were becoming louder each time he thrusted and curled his fingers against your walls, so you clasped a hand on your mouth to prevent any more noise from spilling out.

he stopped and demanded, “no, let me hear.”

“my neighbors–“

“if they even think about coming here and ruining this, i’ll fucking send them six feet under.”

he scooted backwards, placing his head in between your legs. you could feel his hot breath hitting your core and your core clenched. he darted his tongue out, licking a long stripe up your clit, before attaching his entire mouth onto it. he sucked harshly, eating you out like he was a man starved, making your eyes roll back at the insane amount of pleasure he was giving you.

your vision turned white as the coil inside of you intensified into a powerful ball of energy. and then it bursted, the ecstasy setting all your nerves ablaze.

it felt good, so so good.

he crawled back on top of you, kissing you, letting you taste yourself.

then, he pulled away once more to admire his work.

he loved the way you looked beneath him.

how swollen your lips were.

how breathless you were.

how red your cheeks were.

he loved knowing that your current appearance was caused by him and only him. rightfully so.

“all for me, eh?”

his deep, sultry voice sent shivers down your spine.

“all for you, tom.”

note: help, my unexperienced ass doesn’t fucking know how to write nsfw content. this is so bad.

[queenofwands89]

Revelations

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Fem!Pilot!reader

Summary: Y/N overhears Jake's heartfelt confession about liking someone and dares to hope it's her. But when she sees him with another girl, intrigue and uncertainty swirl. Is she the one he truly desires, or has she misread the signs?

Word count: 3,010

Warnings: Angst, Misunderstanding, reader jumping to conclusions, eavesdropping, other character plotting against Jake and y/n, tears, sad, fluff, confessions.

Notes: This is somewhat of a continuation of this fic, but you don't have to read it because I intended it to be a standalone. Didn't have time to proof read so sorry for any typos. I hope you enjoy byeeee 💜

Your friends had been relentless in their teasing about Jake having a crush on you. At first, you laughed it off, finding it impossible to believe that Jake Seresin, the eternally confident and suave pilot, could be interested in you. But as time passed, you started noticing small gestures and moments that made you question your initial disbelief.

Jake had always been kind to you, but recently his kindness seemed to extend beyond common politeness. He remembered the tiniest details you shared in passing—how you liked your coffee, your favorite authors, even the specific way you styled your hair on a bad day. He was quick to offer help, whether you needed an extra hand with a task or just someone to talk to. The way he looked at you, with an intense and sometimes tender gaze, made your heart flutter against your will.

Despite these signs, you remained conflicted. The thought of Jake possibly liking you brought as much fear as it did excitement. What if your friends were just teasing for fun? What if Jake’s actions were merely those of a considerate friend? The fear of misinterpreting his actions and making a fool of yourself loomed large in your mind. You began to feel like you were walking a tightrope, delicately balanced between hope and skepticism.

One afternoon, you were walking past the common room at the base when you heard familiar voices—Rooster, Javy, and Jake—engaged in what seemed like a serious conversation. Curiosity and a bit of anxiety gripped you as you recognized Jake's voice among them. You slowed your pace, your heart thudding in your chest, and edged closer to the door.

“I just don’t know how to tell her,” Jake admitted, his voice carrying a vulnerability that you had never associated with him before. You could sense the frustration and hesitation in his words, the struggle of a man who was usually so self-assured finding himself in unfamiliar emotional territory.

Your heart raced. “Could they be talking about me?” you wondered, your breath catching in your throat. The possibility sent a thrilling yet terrifying jolt through your system. You pressed yourself against the wall, straining to hear more, each beat of your heart echoing in your ears.

“But you’ve got to tell her, man,” Rooster encouraged, his tone filled with genuine support. “She deserves to know.” The sincerity in Rooster’s voice struck a chord, amplifying the gravity of Jake’s confession.

“But what if she doesn’t feel the same way?” Jake's voice, usually so cocky and assured, wavered with uncertainty. “What if I ruin everything?”

A pause followed, the silence heavy with the weight of Jake’s fears.

“She won’t.” It was Javy who spoke next, his voice calm and reassuring. “You’ve got to trust yourself. And trust her. She’s not just anyone; she’s special.��

You felt your pulse quicken, a mix of hope and anxiety swirling within you. Could it really be true? Was Jake talking about you? The words from Rooster and Javy seemed to point in that direction, but the fear of jumping to conclusions held you back.

“I know she is,” Jake replied softly, almost to himself. “That’s what makes it so damn hard.”

The vulnerability in Jake’s voice replayed in your mind, planting even more seeds of doubt and hope. The need to discern reality from your friends' teasing and your own fears had never felt more urgent.

Before you could eavesdrop any further, Natasha's voice echoed from down the hall, calling your name. Panic surged through you like an electric shock. Instinctively, you quickly moved away from the doorway, your heart pounding and thoughts racing. As you walked towards her, trying to act casual, you couldn't shake the question that now consumed your mind: Who was Jake talking about?

"Hey," Natasha greeted you with a curious look, her eyebrows knitting together slightly. "What were you doing back there?"

You hesitated for a moment, glancing back toward the room where Jake and the others were talking. Finally, you confessed, “I overheard Jake talking with Rooster and Javy. He was talking about liking someone but didn’t say who.”

A knowing smile crept onto Nat’s face as her curiosity morphed into something more mischievous. “Why are you so worried about Jake liking someone?”

Your cheeks flushed crimson. "I-I don't know. I guess... I guess I just wondered if he was talking about me," you stammered, hardly believing the words were coming out of your mouth.

Nat's eyes widened in realization, her smile broadening into a grin that practically split her face. “Oh my god, you like Jake!”

“No, I—” you started, but Nat cut you off, clearly reveling in this revelation.

“Everyone’s been saying he has a crush on you,” she continued enthusiastically. “Jake's always sweet to you. I'm pretty sure he was talking about you. You should tell him how you feel.”

Your mind raced back to countless little moments that suddenly took on new significance: the way Jake’s eyes lingered on you during group meetings, the playful banter that always seemed to hold a deeper meaning, the subtle ways he tried to be there for you without making it obvious.

“I don’t know, Nat,” you replied, faltering. The fear of being wrong and the risk of vulnerability loomed large in your thoughts.

Natasha placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, her grip firm. “Listen to me, Y/N,” she said earnestly. “You deserve to be happy. And what’s the worst that could happen? If he wasn’t talking about you, then it’s his loss. But if he was… think about what you could be missing out on. Just tell him how you feel.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your swirling emotions. The blend of hope and fear still churned in your chest, but Nat's encouragement gave you the courage to consider a possibility you had been afraid to fully acknowledge.

“Thanks, Nat,” you said quietly, giving her a small, grateful smile. She grinned back, her eyes twinkling with excitement. Without missing a beat, she added, “You should tell him tonight at The Hard Deck. The atmosphere is relaxed, and you can catch him in a good mood. Plus, it's a place where everyone feels a bit more confident.”

You nodded, the idea settling comfortably in your mind. The Hard Deck, with its familiar ambiance and sense of camaraderie, seemed like the perfect place. “Yeah, you’re right," you agreed, feeling emboldened by the plan.

Nat’s grin widened. “Great! Then it’s settled. Go get ready, and don’t worry—I’ll make sure he doesn’t disappear before you get there.”

With newfound resolve, you turned back toward the hallway, your heart still pounding but now with a touch of exhilaration. Tonight at The Hard Deck, you would take the leap and tell Jake how you really felt.

.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

Bolstered by Nat’s reassurance, you decided to muster all the courage you had and took a chance. You spent the rest of the afternoon overthinking every scenario, planning out how you would approach Jake and what you would say. The anticipation tied your stomach into tight, nervous knots, but Nat’s words of encouragement echoed in your mind, giving you the strength to push forward.

That evening, you arrived at The Hard Deck, the familiar scents of sea air and salt mingling with the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses. The warm glow of string lights cast a welcoming ambiance over the buzzing crowd of friends and fellow pilots. You scanned the room, your eyes searching for Jake.

There he was, leaning casually against the bar, seemingly in his element. His smile was bright, his laughter infectious as he chatted with a few squad members. Your heart pounded in your chest as you took a deep breath, walking purposefully towards him, each step fueled by the hope of finally expressing your feelings.

But as you closed the distance, your heart nearly stopped at the sight unfolding before you. A blonde girl, stunning and radiant, approached Jake with an ease that spoke of intimacy and familiarity. She smiled up at him, her eyes twinkling with affection. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. Your breath hitched painfully in your throat as you watched her lean in and kiss his cheek, her lips lingering as Jake's arm encircled her waist.

Your world tilted on its axis, the scene playing out like a cruel dream. Every piece of hope you had built up shattered, splintering into a million jagged fragments. The voices around you faded into indistinct murmurs, the vibrant atmosphere of The Hard Deck suddenly feeling cold and isolating.

Swallowing hard, tears threatened to spill as you silently concluded that the conversation you had overheard was about this blonde girl. The connection and affection between them were undeniable, making your earlier hopes feel foolish and naïve.

Crying on the inside, you turned on your heel, each step away from Jake feeling like wading through thick, relentless waves. You slipped out of The Hard Deck, the door closing behind you with an unsettling finality. Your chest ached with unspoken words and unfulfilled dreams, your heart heavy beneath the weight of unreturned feelings.

.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

In the coming weeks, you found yourself avoiding Jake entirely. Whenever his name came up or plans were made that involved him, you made excuses, retreating into a quieter, more isolated version of yourself. Each glimpse of him became a painful reminder of what had been and what could never be, the gap between you widening into an unbridgeable chasm.

Though Nat and other friends noticed, you didn't feel ready to explain. The feelings were still too raw, so you chose to keep them to yourself and carried on as best as you could. You knew deep down that Jake liking someone else doesn’t make him a bad person because he has every right to be with who he wants to be. You had no right to be mad; you were not upset with him, just heartbroken. And that heartache was enough to make you withdraw, even from those closest to you.

The day of Bob’s party arrived, a day you'd been both anticipating and dreading. Just the night before, Rooster had casually mentioned that Jake wouldn't be attending. A mix of relief and disappointment had washed over you—relief for avoiding the emotional turmoil, and disappointment because, as much as you wished otherwise, you still deeply cared for Jake.

As you entered the bustling party, your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. The loud music, laughter, and upbeat conversations seemed distant as you struggled to enjoy yourself. You chatted with a guy near the drinks table in an attempt to distract yourself, but your eyes kept searching the crowd for a familiar face that wasn't supposed to be there.

Then, as if mocking the emotional preparation you'd done, there he was. Jake, with his striking build and effortlessly commanding presence, stood across the room. A pang of shock struck you, and for a moment, you were frozen. How could he be here? Rooster had clearly said he wouldn't be! You quickly decided to play it cool, hoping he hadn't noticed your initial reaction.

You re-engaged in your conversation, attempting to laugh here and there, but your thoughts were distracted. Your gaze involuntarily kept flitting over to Jake's direction, drawn by an invisible thread. When Jake caught sight of you talking with someone else, his expression darkened with displeasure. He started moving towards you with determined steps, each stride amplifying the wave of unease that settled in your stomach. Your heart rate quickened, and you struggled to maintain your composure as he approached.

“Can we talk in private?” he asked, his tone leaving no room for objections.

“No, Jake, not now,” you tried to brush him off, your voice shaking slightly. But Jake was insistent, tugging you gently yet firmly to the other side of the room.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” he demanded, frustration evident in his voice. The intensity of his gaze was almost too much to bear.

You tried to keep your voice steady. “It doesn’t matter, Jake. Let it go.”

But Jake wouldn't back down. Your voices rose, drawing the attention of everyone at the party. You felt tears welling up, the emotional pressure becoming unbearable. Turning on your heel, you fled to the basement, hoping to find a moment's peace. Jake, however, was right behind you.

“Y/N, please,” Jake pleaded as he finally caught up to you. “What’s wrong?”

“Please just stop! Jake, I don’t want to talk about it,” you said, running your fingers through your hair in frustration.

Before Jake could respond, the door to the basement swung shut with a loud click. You both turned, realizing in horror that it had locked from the other side. Jake tried the doorknob several times, each attempt becoming more forceful and desperate, but it wouldn't budge.

"Great," Jake muttered, running a hand through his hair. "We’re stuck."

You sighed, leaning against the wall. "Just perfect," you said sarcastically.

Jake approached you slowly. “Maybe this is a sign,” he said softly. “We need to talk this out, Y/N.”

Communicating in the dim basement light, you braced yourself for whatever was to come next.

Jake's voice finally broke through the silence. "Please, tell me what I did wrong. I've been unraveling without you."

His words shattered your heart into countless fragments. As you truly gazed at him, the toll of your silence became evident—dark circles lingered under his eyes, his complexion wan and weary.

Heart racing as you paused in uncertainty. You bit your lip, fighting the urge to turn and face him. For a moment, the words seemed trapped in your throat, but Jake's worried eyes spurred you on. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you finally turned to him, voice trembling with emotion. "I... I've been avoiding you because I overheard you talking with Rooster and Javy about liking someone, and I thought it was about me. But when I saw you with that blonde girl at the bar, I felt so stupid. It was clear to me then that you were talking about her."

Jake's expression shifted from confusion to shock. “You overheard our conversation? And what girl are you talking about?”

Your frustration spilled over, tears threatening to fall. “I don’t even know! There was a girl at the bar a few weeks ago who hugged you and kissed your cheek. I thought... never mind, it’s irrelevant. You have every right to date whoever you want. It’s none of my business, and I have no right to feel upset or betrayed, and I—”

“Wait, Y/N, hold on,” Jake interrupted, his tone urgent and pained. “That conversation was about you. The girl you saw? She’s my sister. I can’t believe you thought... Y/N, you mean the world to me.”

Confusion mingled with hope. "What do you mean? You were actually talking about me?"

Jake nodded earnestly, stepping closer. "Yes, Y/N, every word was about you. I've wanted to tell you how I feel for so long, but I was terrified because the bond we share is so precious to me. I couldn't bear the thought of losing it. When I was talking to Rooster and Javy, I was trying to find the courage to be honest about my feelings for you. And that girl you saw at the bar? That's my sister. She came to town for a visit, and I wanted her to meet the most important person in my life—you. I can't stand the thought of you feeling hurt because of a misunderstanding. You have no idea how much you mean to me. Seeing you with your beautiful smile, hearing your laughter, it's the highlight of my day. I cherish every moment we spend together. Y/N, you are my best friend, but you're also the one who makes my heart race. My feelings for you have only grown stronger over time, and I can't keep them hidden any longer. You are my everything, and I just want us to build something even more beautiful together."

A mixture of relief and happiness washed over you, your eyes welling up. “Oh, Jake, I’ve felt the same way for so long. I didn’t know how to tell you either. Seeing you with someone else just crushed me... I’m so sorry I acted like that.”

Jake chuckled softly, the sound filled with affection. “It’s alright, Y/N. I get it. But you don’t have to worry about anyone else. It’s always been you.”

Your heart swelled with emotion as you looked into Jake’s eyes. “I should have talked to you instead of hiding away. I’m so embarrassed. I’m really sorry for everything.”

He grinned, wiping a tear from your cheek. “Well, we do make a good drama for the team, don’t we?”

You laughed, the sound breaking the tension. “Yeah, I guess we do.”

Jake gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing away the last of your tears. “How about we stop the drama here and start something real instead?”

With your heart full of joy, you nodded, and he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a tender, heartfelt kiss. The moment was perfect, everything you had dreamed of and more.

As you pulled apart, breathless and smiling, a loud cheer broke through the silence.

Turning, you saw Rooster, Natasha, Javy, Bob, Reuben, and Mickey clapping and cheering enthusiastically.

“Way to go, Jake!” Rooster called out, grinning widely.

“Finally!” Nat added, her arms raised in celebration.

Javy winked at you and said, “Took you two long enough!”

Bob, Reuben, and Mickey clapped and cheered, their smiles wide with happiness.

Rooster gave Jake a playful punch on the arm. “Good thing I thought to lock you two down here in the basement. You needed this talk.”

You and Jake exchanged a look, laughing together for the first time in what felt like ages. With your friends' cheers still ringing in your ears, you knew this was the start of something beautiful and true.

-

Tag: @bella-the-proud-fangirl

[blackbirdsblackberries]

"I hate the new hero" is such a brilliant fic idea! I absolutely devoured it. 

 

Especially if we throw in some angst into it. *evil laugh*

Like, what if the harassment was too much that it affected the reader’s other life?

What was at first a way for her to hide her superhero identity.. had now made her doubt her vigilante work?

 

I know the BatBoys won’t act as low to actually physically harass who they thought was a civilian student, no matter how much they hate it, but they’ll definitely make their life worse. Online harassment, endless accusations, fake rumours that caused the reader to be hated by the entire school. 

 

Until one day you had enough. As much as reader love Gotham, wanting to protect it. But you were only a student now.. a teenage with a future to strive for, a future Gotham Academy could no longer provide you. 

 

��Are these people the ones I risk my life every night for..?’

‘What was the point..’

All kinds of self deprecating dark thoughts swirl inside the mind of the teenage girl. 

 

After some thought, you decided. 

 

“I’m leaving Gotham,” Aranea announces, sharp eyes looking down the streets of the city from the high rooftop. 

 

Red Robin almost lost his cool, a cold shudder went through him at the horrifying revelation. It was so sudden, why are you leaving? Leaving Gotham? Leaving them? Leaving him?

 

His brilliant mind moved at an almost inhuman speed, creating hundreds of possibilities for why you would come to that decision.

 

But he just doesn’t understand. “Why?” He finally let out, his voice so low he was worried you didn’t catch it. 

 

But you did. “I have my reasons.” You sigh, your brows furrowing in distress.

 

Oh, how Tim wished he could kiss your worries away. It kills him to see you so troubled.

 

“Why? Is something wrong?” He urged, his tone sounding desperate. “I swear if Red Hood did something—“

 

“No,” You shook your head, “Nothing’s wrong. At least not with you guys.”

 

“Then what is it?” He eyes you, trying to read you. “Is it your day life? Your life behind the mask?”

 

You didn’t answer, avoiding his gaze. You were too quiet, it was such a strange sight. Your eyes held a certain sadness, your smile gone. It’s killing him.  

 

Your silence gave him all the answers he needed. “Then tell me, tell me who you are. Let us help you.” He begs; he knows he’ll do anything you ask him to, and he knows his family would do the same. 

 

“You know we can’t do that.” You shook your head. 

 

Damn, this is getting too long. Haha.. I’ll stop. But yeah. It’s a brilliant idea. 

 

Imagine how crazy he’ll react if he knew that he was the cause of your worries. He was the one who hurt you. The angst will be delicious. 

STOP YOU'RE ACTUALLY READING MY MIND!!

Not to spoil too much but in future chapters Reader will start to doubt themselves and cracks will show.

Reader may also look elsewhere for places to save. After all, Gotham already has so many heroes, what's one gone?

But they can't let the optimistic sweetheart of a hero go now, can they? You know what they say, you can take the man out of the city but not the city out the man...

Who said that?! 😮‍💨

And for the third paragraph, I absolutely agree! They wouldn't stoop so low as to actually assault Reader. But that doesn't mean they can't misuse the power they have over Gotham (both in their vigilante life and real life).

Though if I were to say one name that I think would get slightly physical (passive aggressively) I would have to say Dick.

Dick is such an emotionally complex character. Damian has learnt from his past and knows better thanks to Bruce, Bruce wouldn't risk anything and would instead just verbally cause harm, Jason doesn't actually resort to violence a lot - he yells, he punches walls, etc but he has never actually hit someone without proper reason/justification, Tim is above violence while a civilian.

The way Dick would do it would be so casual though - a hug too tight, a handshake that "accidentally" breaks a finger, a hard "pat" on the back that makes you spit out whatever you're eating/drinking, small things that don't seem like much.

I also want to state that the Reader is very complex as well with how I write them. Their true personality is cautious, ambitious, kind, sarcastic, kinda cold and loyal but they either display one part too much or too little - kind, loyal and ambitious during hero work is up to 100 while cautious, sarcastic, cold is hidden at 30. Whereas while a civilian they show caution, coldness, sarcasm at 100 with loyalty, kindness and ambition down to 30-40.

I won't say much more though, again Reader is you guys so their "true" personality is up to you - this is just how they're perceived by people.

[farfromharry]

new year, new man 🏎️ ln4

Summary: you meet Lando for the first time after being dragged to a new year’s eve party. safe to say you didn’t hate this new year as much as the rest.

W/c - 1485

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You were far from a fan of celebrating the new year. It wasn’t much of a holiday for you, rather than a period of a couple days that made you sad. You spent too long focusing on how it felt like time was moving too fast and you were getting old and by the time midnight arrived you’d successfully brought down everyone else’s moods.

For that very reason you were planning to stay home and mope in your room to greet 2024. But it seemed your friends had other plans.

“I don’t want to go to a party,” you huffed.

The brunette at the end of your bed rolled her eyes. “And I told you, I don’t care what you want, you’re going.” She tossed a dress at you and stood there expectantly.

From out in the hallway you could hear one of your other friends calling for you. “Come on, Y/N, it’ll be fun.”

You knew there was nothing you could do. They wouldn’t leave unless it was with you following behind them. Part of you was warmed by the fact they wanted you around, but another part of you was irritated that they couldn’t just let you be in your misery. You wished you would have been more stubborn.

An hour or so later and you were stepping into a complete stranger’s home where a party was in full swing.

A drink was quickly passed into your hands and within minutes you were left alone sitting in a quiet corner. Your friends had failed to let you know that this party was being hosted by a friend of theirs, with some of their other mutual friends in attendance. Maybe you would have put up a bigger fight if you’d have known you wouldn’t know anyone here and yet they would know everyone.

It was awkward, you standing there, drink in hand and eyes darting around the place at all the strangers. You must have looked so out of place.

“Do you mind if I join you?” A voice startled you out of your daydream. You were getting ready to turn them away when you locked eyes with one of the most attractive men you swore you’d ever seen. Your heart began to beat a little faster. “All the other seats are taken by couples basically swallowing each other. Figured this is the least awkward place to sit.”

You managed to laugh, like a real laugh. You were surprised that a random guy had managed to make you feel even slightly happy for the first time tonight.

“No, you’re fine. I sat here to get away too.”

It was silent for a brief moment and you cursed yourself for being so antisocial.

“Not enjoying the party?” he asked.

You perked up at the chance to talk to him again. “Uh, not really. Unless it’s your party, then it’s great. I’m having so much fun.”

He chuckled. “It’s not my party. Friend of a friend. I don’t really know anyone here.”

There were butterflies in your stomach. Could this man get any better? “Me either.”

He seemed pleased by that, like he’d needed to know he wasn’t alone in feeling awkward and uncomfortable in order for it to dissipate. “Well now you know me.” He held his hand out for you to shake. “I’m Lando.”

You smiled. “Y/N.”

The pair of you were only talking for a short while when he was approached by a clearly drunk man. “Lando Norris!” Was all he said, rather cheerfully, shaking hands with the man beside you. Lando smiled, nodding to the stranger before he left.

You watched the interaction with a furrowed brow.

“I thought you said you didn’t know anyone here?”

He looked at you with a shy grin. “I don’t. I have no idea who that was.”

The revelation made you laugh, louder than it probably should have, but you would blame the alcohol for that one. He quickly joined in, the 2 of you trading giggles in a secluded corner as everyone partied around you.

When your laughter died down and you wiped a few stray tears, you took a long look at Lando. “I’m actually really glad I came tonight.”

He took that to mean you were happy to have met and spent your time with him. “Me too. Maybe we could do this again sometime, but in an environment we both like. Somewhere quiet, like dinner?”

“I think I’d like that.”

Going into the new year it looked as though you’d be getting a shot at love, or at the very least a nice, new friendship. Maybe new year did bring good things sometimes.

As you noticed the minutes ticking closer to midnight and the party getting rowdier, you ached to convince Lando to move somewhere that wasn’t right in the middle of the busy crowd. You were unsure if he would, given that the atmosphere would change so drastically, but what was the harm in asking.

He looked at you as you stood from your seat, worried that you might be about to present him with an excuse to leave early.

“Come with me,” you instructed, holding your hand out for him to take. He eyed it, feigning hesitance.

He hummed. “I don’t know. My mum’s always telling me about stranger danger.”

You rolled your eyes. “Come on.”

Lando didn’t waste another second, slipping his hand into yours and allowing you to blindly lead him through the maze of people. He didn’t expect you to take him outside into the garden where it was much quieter. There was no one out here but the 2 of you and a couple stray drunk people.

“Much better,” you sighed. “I finally feel like I can hear myself think.”

As the moonlight fell upon you he believed you looked even more beautiful than you had inside. He was slightly in awe. His daze was momentarily broken when he noticed you shiver, the cold chill of the December air being unforgiving to your bare skin. There was only one thing that would be right for him to do as the gentleman his mother raised.

“Here, take my jacket.”

Your mouth opened to protest but the stern look he gave you told you he wasn’t willing to hear any of it. So instead you let him place it over your shoulders, his warmth and scent immediately making your body heat up to a comfortable temperature.

“Thank you.”

He brushed it off. “Not a problem.”

Now that there was no overly loud background chatter from those inside, a lull in conversation meant things got awkward, fast. Or at least on your part. You weren’t sure what you could say now and that led you to a panic about whether he was thinking about how silent you were being.

In reality, he was working up the courage to ask if he could kiss you. In the end it was the lack of time to deliberate that led him to just blurting it out.

He was afraid you’d be mad, considering you hadn’t met that long ago, but actually you were just happy he’d pulled you out of your nervous thoughts— even if his question gave you nerves for a whole different reason.

“Would it be presumptuous of me to ask if I could kiss you at midnight?”

You pretended to think it over, taking a step closer to him so that your fronts were pressed together. His eyes were rapidly looking over your features. Between your eyes and your lips, like he couldn’t make his mind up about where he wanted to focus. In the end he settled for your eyes.

“I might be persuaded.”

And then the countdown began.

As the clock struck midnight Lando made his move and closed the gap between the 2 of you. His large hand on your jaw was more or less guiding you through the sweet kiss, a gesture which made your knees even weaker than they already had been.

The cheers of the party inside were what brought the 2 of you back to the present.

Your face burned as you eyed the crowd, wondering if any of your friends had noticed you sneaking off with the handsome stranger to steal a kiss. You hoped they didn’t, because truly you wouldn’t be able to escape the mountain of questions they’d have for you.

He must have noticed you were slightly distracted, taking the initiative to gently guide your gaze back to him. The corner of his mouth curved upwards when your eyes met.

“Happy new year,” he mumbled, brushing his nose lightly across yours. It was a tender move for a man you’d met only a short hour ago.

You beamed, maybe you’d get the chance to know him a little more this year. “Happy new year.”

It looked like 2024 was already going to be a good year.

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[sp0o0kylights]

Part Two

15 days before Christmas Steve Harrington flinches when the Christmas lights strung along the arcade flicker. 

Eddie only notices because he makes a habit out of keeping an eye on questionable people when he's out and about. 

Watches Harrington recover with a little shake of his head and a roll of his shoulders, as Gareth finishes up his shift, swapping cashier positions with Jeff. 

Dustin and Lucas stick around long enough to greet Jeff as Eddie stares, before scuttling off to Harrington's car, pushing and shoving each other the whole way. 

Eddie frowns, but decides to put the whole thing out of his head. 

He doesn't need his little lamb's adoration of evil high school figures to poison his day. 

                                                            xXx

12 days before Christmas and Eddie is starting to realize Harrington is everywhere. 

There's a little holiday display the town center has put on. A temporary ice rink surrounded by dazzling lights, hot chocolate stands, and plenty of things to see. 

Wayne and Eddie, with their traditional day of Christmas shopping complete, stroll within it, a cup of hot chocolate in hand. They never buy much--can’t, but it’s still something fun for Eddie to do with his Uncle and so and he bounces about with glee as they people watch. 

A familiar shriek hits the air, and Eddie turns in time to see Mike and Dustin collide on the ice, while Lucas and his sister skate literal circles around them, laughing. 

Unable to pass up on the opportunity to tease, Eddie flies to the edge of the rink, waving his hand and demanding one of the kids do a flip. 

"A flip!? Eddie, I can't even skate a circle!" Henderson shouts, at the same time as Wheeler adds; 

“Let’s see you try and skate with these idiots!” 

“Sorry Wheeler, I think getting on the ice with you might be hazardous to my health.” 

“Shut up!” 

Delightful banter officially traded, Eddie turns to find his Uncle in a conversation with Steve Harrington. 

Grin immediately faltering into a frown, he approaches cautiously right in time to see Wayne clap Harrington on the shoulder. 

“It gets better.” Wayne says gruffly, in that tone he uses when he’s trying to give deeply emotional advice without the emotional part.  

The younger boy gave a hard nod, muttering something that might have been “Thanks.”

Eddie jerked to a stop several steps away, but close enough for Wayne to see him, to know he was done and it was time to go. 

Thankfully his Uncle picked up the signal, and made his way over, so the two of them  could finish out their lap around the town center. 

"He’s one of your classmates, right?" Wayne asked, as they turned away from the rink, Harrington back to watching the kids laugh and play around the ring. 

"Not anymore." Eddie scoffs. "That's Steve Harrington."

Wayne hums noncommittally.

"As in, the rich Harrington's.” Eddie prods, because come on everyone knew who the Harrington’s were, just as everyone delighted in rightfully shitting on them. They weren’t good people. “As in, the assholes from Loc Nora?" 

Another hum. 

Then; "People are more than their last name, Eds. You should know that."

Eddie jerks back, stung at the admonishment. 

Wayne’s not mad, never is, but Eddie recognizes his Uncle’s disappointed tone loud and clear. 

"One of the gifts you got from me was seein’ through people's bullshit.." Wayne continues, before sucking in a draw on his cigarette. "I'm surprised you didn't see through his." 

‘I don’t want to see through his!’ Is what Eddie wants to say, but keeps it to himself.

Changed the subject instead, shoulders hiked to his ears, because Harrington having some kind of claim on his new players was one thing, but his Uncle!?

He didn’t care about whatever crap the guy was going through. King Steve has been an ass for as long as Eddie had known him, the kind of bully whose downfall you cheered for. 

Sure it was petty, but guys like Harrington reveled in pettiness. 

So who cared if Eddie didn’t want to look closer at him now? Harrington wasn’t a lost lamb.

He was at best, an injured wolf, and no amount of sad looks was going to make him any safer to be around. 

                                                          xxx

 9 days till Christmas and Wheeler is having a tantrum that's delaying Hellfire's holiday oneshot.

"I don't get why he hates Christmas so much. He didn't even know Will when he disappeared!" Mike snips with his arms crossed. 

Dustin is across from him, a furious scowl on his face, as Lucas stands between, a physical barrier between the two. 

"As usual, you're talking out of your ass, Mike." Henderson spits, furious. "He was in Will's house with Jonathan and Nancy. That's reason enough!"

As if that makes any kind of sense, but then this isn’t the first argument that went into weird territory like this. Eddie’s always prided himself on pulling stories out of people, earning secrets and truths with a well trained ear and a smarter mouth. 

The freshman though, were proving to be a hell of a challenge.

Mike throws his hands in the air. "I'm just saying, we all have way more reasons to hate Christmas, but none of us are acting like the grinch!"

“I know you can only have two good thoughts a day without breaking your brain, but you're being so stupid." Dustin thunders. "Did you ever think Steve might have other reasons to hate Christmas!?”

Eddie almost groans aloud, because of course, of fucking course, this is about Harrington. 

The guy was a goddamn ghost at this point, hellbent on haunting Eddie’s entire life. 

Didn’t even have the courtesy to die first! 

"Guys." Lucas stressed, hands now firmly pressed against Mike and Dustin’s chest. “Come on, we’re wasting time. We can talk about this later.”

“Oh don’t worry about that Sinclair,” Eddie purred, making the three of them jump, as though they had forgotten they had a full ass audience in the form of the rest of the club. “I’m just docking their HP points for every minute they hold up the game.” 

“Shit!” Dustin and Milke yelled as one, scrambling to get to their chairs. 

Gareth and Jeff snicker, Grant making it known he was over their antics with a look that could have burnt gold. 

Eddie clapped his hands once, hard enough for it to echo throughout the room. “If everyone is done bickering,” He announced, slipping into his DM voice, “we can begin our tale…” 

He launches into the story he’d planned, and enjoys pulling everyone into it, all thoughts of Steve Harrington left behind.

                                              xXx

5 Days before Christmas and Eddie is panic shopping.

He’s not the one panicking, nor the one shopping, but he has a car and friends who know where he lives, so he’s woken up at an ungodly hour of the morning (10 am) by Gareth, Grant, and Henderson of all people. 

“Gareth’s sister took the car again.” Grant explains with dramatic, rolling eyes at Eddie’s exasperated face. 

“I’m sorry you planned going shopping five days before Christmas?” 

“Well--no-” Grant continues at the same time Dustin and Gareth yell protests. 

They talk over each other for a moment, loud enough to make Eddie crave coffee and the comfort of his bed. 

He runs one hand through his frizzy, bedhead hair before yanking it out and waving it around to catch his friend's attention. “Alright, I get it! You all decided to do white elephant gift thing last minute, and are now scrambling." 

"Speaking of which, you're invited." Henderson tells him with a cheeky grin. "We're doing it on Christmas Eve." 

Of course they were. 

 "Please man? It'll be fun." Gareth pleads, as Grant shoots him his patented puppy dog eyes. 

Eddie sighs. 

"I'll do it, but!" He sticks a finger in the air as grins broke out, "I'm demanding food and coffee and payment!" 

With that he retreated from the door, stomping back to his room. 

"Good coffee, too!" He hollers as he throws on clothes, happy chatter breaking out among his friends. 

Several arguments and one run to the best to-go coffee shop in town, and Eddie was following his buddies around as they wandered through downtown Hawkins. 

Since the mall had burned, shopping options had been rather limited, shops slow to reopen. 

It made it difficult to buy things last minute, but Eddie found it was actually kind of fun as Henderson explained the rules they'd all agreed on (hopefully, Gareth added, because the rules had been passed along in pieces.) 

"The goal is to get outrageous, funny stuff." Dustin explains as they browsed the local bookstore. "Nothing more than fifteen dollars, and nothing Christmas-y."

Eddie raises an eyebrow. "Nothing Christmas-y?" He echoes curiously. 

Dustin nods, serious. 

"Yeah. Christmas can be kinda a downer for some people. We came up with this as a way to celebrate without all the holiday stuff involved."

"Some people like Harrington?" Eddie guesses, sinking feeling in his stomach. 

There's no way Grant and Gareth would've  agreed to do a gift exchange with Steve Harrington.

Right?

Dustin sighs dramatically, whole body heaving. 

"I know you've got a weird hate-on for him, but this time of year is really hard on Steve." He snaps, exasperated. "It's not my place to talk about it outside the Party, but he doesn't deserve to deal with it on his own."

There's that word again, Party. 

Capital P implied, just as it implies that it's a group that Eddie is firmly excluded from. 

It stings as it lands, an unintentional insult that reminds Eddie that his newest little lambs have secrets they refuse to share.

Nevermind the fact that Steve is clearly included. 

Eddie collects secrets like candy, but his poking and prodding had yet to get him a solid answer on the mysterious "party." 

Rather than press, Eddie raises his hands in surrender. 

"Easy there, tiger. No offense meant." 

Full offense meant actually, but Eddie wasn't in the mood for a full blown Henderson Rant. 

Dustin narrows his eyes, but takes his words at face value. "You know, you guys would really like each other if you both just got over yourselves." 

Eddie snorts, but covers it by playfully shoving Henderson's cap down into his face. 

"When hell freezes over maybe. Now look, they have a new science fiction display!" The last part is sing-songed. 

Thoroughly distracted, Dustin lets the conversation drop, much to Eddie's relief.

(Because really him? Liking Harrington?

Not in a million freaking years.) 

                                                      xxx

 It's Christmas Eve and Eddie is staring furiously at Steve Harrington's house. 

"No one told me he was involved." He hisses angrily, knuckles white on his steering wheel. 

"Oh my god, stop being dramatic." Dustin rolls his eyes as he talks, unbuckling himself. “I told you Steve hates Christmas, so this is how we’re including him!” 

Jeff is looking equally uncomfortable, even as Lucas and Mike fall out of the van.

Gareth's car is behind him, Grant with him.

No doubt they too, are staring at the massive house in front of them in horror. 

Slowly the elder Hellfire members file out, standing in a clump as the younger members rush forward. 

They storm the door like they live in the damn place, fluttering about like moths. 

"What the hell." Jeff mutters quietly to Eddie's left. 

"Yeah guys, what the hell." Eddie repeats, shooting a glare toward Gareth and Grant. "No one mentioned this part!"

"We didn't know." Gareth defends angrily. "This was all the freshman!" 

"Are you idiots coming inside or not!?" Robin Buckley of all people yells, appearing in the now open front door. 

Or rather, one of the front doors, because Harrington is rich enough to have two. 

"Shit." Eddie mutters. 

"It's not weird if we just--leave, right?" Grant mumbles, shuffling from foot to foot. 

"It's very weird if we leave." Jeff responds flatly. 

A flare of anger ignites in Eddie. It comes from Steve Harrington invading this entire holiday, and Eddie finally has a chance to catch him off guard.

He'd be damned if he let it pass by. 

"Brave faces men." He says, tossing his hair back with a jerk of his hand. "We're storming the castle."

Struts forward determinedly, present in hand, fully planning on making Harrington as uncomfortable as he had made Eddie.

Unintentional, or not. 

                                                xXx

It's the day before Crapmas, the one holiday Steve hates, and he's somehow been sweet talked into hosting the kids white elephant exchange.

Which was fine--they were welcome in his home anytime and they knew it--but they'd conveniently forgotten to mention this was a Hellfire Club event.

As in, Eddie "the freak" Munson and his crew of three other dudes whose names Steve doesn't know (but who probably knew his.) 

"I dunno man, I wasn't the best person to a lot of people." He worried at Dustin this morning, when the brat had sprung it on him. "This probably isn't the best idea."

"Please Steve!? It's too late to change the venue and you promised you'd do a holiday thing with each of us!" Dustin whined on the other end.

At least he had the forethought to not actually use the word "Christmas." 

"You did everyone else's, you can't skip out on mine!"

Everyone else's was simple shit like taking them ice skating, or shopping, or making gingerbread houses.

Not hosting a whole ass party with four people who likely hated his guts--and for good reason.

Which Steve repeated to Dustin, staring vacantly at his carefully decorated house.

Once again, his parents had called in designers to come keep appearances, sending along their usual message that they may or may not be home depending upon various work factors.

"We just never know anymore with your father's job honey." His mother slurred on the phone, four years ago. "We'll make it up to you, sweetheart. Promise."

Like more money on his credit card could fix years of ruined holidays. 

(At least them being gone was better than forcing Steve to perform in their horrible holiday parties. Dressing him up like a doll, gathering drunk adults around the piano to make him play horrid Christmas songs. 

Showing him off like a well trained dog, complete with finger snaps to signal him to move on to his next trick. ) 

“Steeeeeeve-!”

As always, Steve crumbled under Dustin's badgering.

"Fine, fine!" He’d said. “You're responsible for letting them know me and Robin are gonna be there though!” 

Robin, who’d been laying on his couch, poked her head up at her name. 

“They’ll know!” Dustin had promised. 

Then abruptly hung up, like the brat he was.

Now four half-terrified, half-murderous looking dudes were staring Steve down as they awkwardly stood in his living room, and he had the wondrous realization that Dustin had probably sprung this on them too. 

‘Little. Asshole.’ Steve thinks, but plasters the best non threatening smile on his face. 

“Hey, uh, guys.” He says with an awkward little wave.

He gets three sets of glares and one impressive looking spooked face back. 

Mike and Lucas were already tackling the snacks he’d put out, cheeks full of chocolates and popcorn. Dustin was re-arranging furniture to his liking, and Robin, in-between her four classmates and Steve, glanced at both sides and rolled her eyes. 

“Steve, go pull the pizza out of the oven. You lot, come sit down, you look like you’re about to bolt.” Robin snaps, making everyone sans the kids jump. 

Happy for the distraction, Steve quickly retreats to his kitchen, overhearing Robin try and get the elder Hellfire members to identify themselves. 

Chatter fills the room, slow at first, but it becomes more fluid with Robin’s ruthless prodding. The pizza ends up needing another five minutes, which suits Steve since he hadn’t had time to pull out drinks. 

He’s bent at the waist, pulling out various cans when Dustin loudly announces his presence by barging into the fridge and smacking Steve’s ass with it. 

With a yelp, cans fly everywhere as Steve drops them, bouncing off the floor and rolling across the kitchen. 

“Henderson!” He gripes, standing up as the kid grins at him. He has all his teeth now but the smile will probably always feel cute to Steve. By-product of knowing the little shit for far too long. 

“Sorry Steve.” He says dismissively, before stepping aside with a dramatic flair. “Now stop being a total housewife for a second and meet Eddie!” 

The sound of cans still rolling ringing in his ears, Steve finds himself staring into Munson’s eyes. 

Who looks all too delighted to have seen Steve fumble. 

“Thought you were a jock, Harrington. What happened to those reflexes?” He smirks, and Steve feels his face flush red. 

“Yeah well,” Steve says, hand reflexively rubbing the back of his neck, “Turns out hanging around kids kinda ruins them.” 

This is clearly not the response Eddie was expecting. 

Nor is he expecting Dustin to loudly announce that; “Steve once played a D&D campaign with us, but he totally ate it as a cleric. You should give him some tips, Eddie!” 

Now it’s Steve’s turn to smirk, because Munson looks completely thrown. 

“Is…that a joke?” Eddie asks carefully, looking between the two of them. 

Dustin shakes his head. “Nope! You can ask Lucas’s sister, she was there.” 

He then glances down at his watch, and gives the biggest fake gasp Steve has ever heard (and Steve once sat through Will and Mike acting in a play for their English class, while Nancy and Jonathan silently suffered second-hand embarrassment next to him.) 

“Oh shit, I forgot something! Be right back!” 

“Language!” Steve calls, as Dustin shoots out of the kitchen. “And be careful not to trip on the cans!” 

Munson, who looks like he’s taken a wrong turn and ended up in the Twilight Zone, stares at him. “Did you seriously play a cleric?” 

“Weave Healington was a brave man who sacrificed himself in a time of need.” Steve tells him seriously, just to see the guy’s reaction. “May he rest in peace.” 

“Weave Healington.” Eddie deadpans. 

Steve, keeping his face blank by the skin of his teeth, nods. 

“Please tell me that wasn’t the pizza you just dropped.” Robin says as she flies into the kitchen, interrupting Eddie’s face rapidly cycling through different emotions with a badly wrapped present in her hands. 

“Stevie boy dropped the pop, Buckley Bird.” Eddie says, recovering quickly. “I would not recommend drinking out of anything currently laying on the floor.” 

“Noted.” Robin says, pausing to stare at the cans scattered about. “Hey Steve, did you wrap your weird eyeball thingie? Or do you want me to do it? I dunno how long the kids are gonna wait.” 

Like a dog hearing a whistle, Munson’s whole head tips sideways. “Weird eyeball thingie?” 

“Oh my god, it’s this--I don’t even know how to describe it. Like an alternative ouija board? It says it’s a “fortune telling game.” Robin makes the quotation marks with her hands. “It has this giant, ugly eyeball in the middle.”

She leans forward conspiratorially to add; “It glows in the dark.” 

 “Oh my god, Steve, your gift is Ka-Bala!?” Dustin says, bouncing up like a damn jack-in-the-box. “I’ve always wanted that game!” 

“Robin!” Steve hisses, because of course she’d announce that right as Dustin would pop back up. 

“Oh shit.” Robin says, shooting him an apologetic glance. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your gift.” 

Steve sighs dramatically, but keeps a small grin on his face so Robin knows he’s not really upset. “Guess I’ll have to go find a new one--which means your punishment is that you and Dustin are now in charge of the pizza. And also picking up all the cans.” 

“Curses.” Robin says flatly, before breaking out into a grin herself, while Dustin whines. 

“It’s probably for the best.” Eddie says, though the guy sounds weirdly like someone desperately off balance and scrambling to fix it. “You know you weren’t supposed to pick cool gifts, right Harrington?” 

Steve raises his eyebrows at him. “Cool? It’s kinda weird. It’s disgustingly neon green. And Robin forgot to mention it’s a board game.”  

He pushes Dustin’s hat down as he walks by, and laughs aloud when Eddie follows up by knocking it right off Henderson’s head. 

“Hey!” Dustin squeaks, hands darting to cover his hat hair.

He’s ignored. 

“Neon green, giant eyeball, fortune telling board game?” Eddie sums up. “Yeah might have to murder Buckley because that sounds rad as hell.” 

Steve snorts as he walks down the hall and up the stairs, somehow unsurprised to find the metalhead is following. 

“You want it, Munson?” He asks as they hit his second floor, Steve aiming for his fathers office. “You’re welcome to it, I never even opened the thing.” 

“What do you want for it?” Eddie asks, following Steve right through the door, before stopping dead. 

A typical reaction to someone walking into his fathers stuffy, stupidly expensive office. Like the rest of Steve’s house, it looks as though it was transported straight out of a magazine. Everything is shiny and worse--unused. 

“Nothing, man.” Steve said, standing in front of said desk now with his arms crossed. “I mean it, it’s still got the plastic on it. You’re gonna have to sneak it by Dustin though.” He turned to smile at Eddie, feeling like they were sharing a joke, “He might physically fight you for it.” 

For some reason this made a hell of a blush streak across Munson’s cheeks, before the guy coughed and swung into the office behind Steve. 

“He can try.” Eddie managed finally, voice a shade higher than normal. 

As he always did to social things he didn’t understand, Steve just ignored the change. 

“Why’d you never play it?” Eddie asks, as Steve scans the shelves of stupidly expensive knick-knacks. 

“Someone trying to impress my parents got it for me one Christmas.” He says with a shrug. “They wouldn’t let me open it then, and I forgot all about it until I was digging for something else.” 

“They don’t care about it now I take it?” 

Steve can’t help the snort that leaves his throat. “They’d have to be around to care.” Then to get the conversation back on track, says; “Okay, I’m thinking the shitty World’s Best Boss trophy.” 

He points to the gaudy thing, all shiny from the ass kissing the person who’d purchased it had done in hopes Steve’s dad would give him a raise. Or not fire him, Steve never knew which it was. 

 "I take it your dad’s not gonna be here to care that it’s gone?” Eddie asks, walking up to stand next to Steve. 

 Another grin appears on Steve’s face, shared conspiratorially with Eddie when he looks over to the metalhead. “That’s my gift to myself man. I’m gonna see how long it takes before he notices it’s gone.” 

Eddie whistled, quiet enough to not hurt Steve’s ears. “Fuck the old man, huh?” 

“Absolutely.” Steve agreed, stepping forward to fish the trophy down. 

“Gotta say man, you’re surprising me. I didn’t expect such a thing from you. Especially since Henderson told me you hate Christmas.” 

Steve shrugged as he turned back around, new white elephant gift in hand. “Yeah it’s a thing I’m trying.” 

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Not hating Christmas?”  

“Not being a dick. Which,” He shook the trophy, “--means sticking it to the biggest dick in my life. I think I’ll always hate Christmas.” 

Eddie snorted a laugh, then looked startled, like he hadn’t expected that reaction out of himself. 

Steve grinned at it. 

“You uh--you know if you ever want to talk about the hating Christmas thing, I think I get it. Or can relate. Sorta.” Eddie says, and it’s so stilted that it takes Steve a moment to figure out what he’s offering. 

He almost asks him if he’s kidding, but thinks better of it. 

“I think I’m less cut up about it then the kids are but, for what it’s worth--thanks.”

Doesn’t think he’ll ever take anyone up on that offer, epically not someone who doesn’t know that an entire hell dimension exists under them but--

It’s nice. To have someone recognize that Steve hates it. That there are reasons he might.

He recalls suddenly that the man at the ice rink who’d also seen through his melancholy was in fact, Eddie’s Uncle, and briefly wonders if this just runs through the family. 

“Come on, I gotta wrap this and then get back downstairs before Robin and Dustin burn the house down.” He says instead, because he doesn’t want to get in his own head about it. Not tonight, when he knows the kids have gone out of their way in an effort to celebrate the holiday without making him feel like he was celebrating it. “Or worse, they start the white-elephant without us.” 

“After you, my liege.” Eddie says with a dramatic bow. 

Steve pauses awkwardly for a moment, before giving the world's most careful curtsey back. 

(Laughs loudly  as Eddie almost falls on his face in surprise, before the older man scrambles to chase after Steve, out of the office.) 

                                               xXx

It’s 12:00 pm, making it officially Christmas day, and Eddie Munson is rapidly re-evaluating his entire life.

Well perhaps not all of it, just the parts with Steve Harrington.

They’re playing the best white-elephant game Eddie has ever participated in, a cutthroat competition that’s filled the house with shrieks and laughter. 

Henderson’s gift, cat-paw shaped mittens with “You’ve gotta be kitten me” scrawled on the back is the current winning prize, with Mike’s salt and pepper shakers made in the shape of two pigs “porking” being a close second.

The worst gift is a tie between the eye searing scarf Gareth’s mother had created (complete with bedazzled gems) and an abomination of a stuffed animal Grant insists is an ET doll.

It looked like a deformed llama sat on its ass, and Lucas already scared Mike with it twice. 

Eddie’s own gift, ( a mug with Tom Selleck posing shirtless) was jokingly fought over by Robin and Steve to the bitter end, while Gareth was defending the blue circular cookie tin (the kind that mothers shoved needles and sewing threads into, but shockingly enough actually held real cookies) with his life. 

Literally at one point, as he laid over it while Jeff tackled him. 

Eddie himself had gone for the gold, wanting the trophy Steve had procured. He too, was defending it aggressively against Dustin, who was currently stuck with Lucas’s gift (one of his sister’s pet rock creations she’d apparently tried to sell to her classmates. 

It was hideous.)

Now stretched out on his bed, legs in the air as he stares at the Ka-Bala game Steve had snuck into his arms with a wink, Eddie finds he’s the guy’s managed to go from haunting his whole life, to trying to haunt his heart. 

Made him want to do the thing he’d angrily been against this entire time--take a look at the guy closer. 

See past his bullshit, at the person hiding underneath. 

Find out what Steve was talking to his Uncle about, and why his house looked like a Christmas themed tomb. 

Why his parents were gone. What the hell made him he pick a cleric in D&D. How he met the kids and why Dustin thought the sun shines out of his ass. 

But most of all?

Why the hell had Steve Harrington put a note on the back of the Ka-Bala game? 

‘Hope you like the game..’  It read, with the dorkiest little smiley face. ‘I wouldn’t mind hanging out again.’

Below it was a number, and Eddie felt himself go red in the face. 

Steve Harrington was a fucking mystery, but one Eddie himself, had been personally invited to solve. 

‘Merry Christmas to me I guess.’ He thought, and tried very, very hard not to kick his legs in the air. 

[mire1li]

Reader as Alastor's Mother part 3

So I took a little while oops Part 1!, Part 2!

𓋼 You brush his hair every morning. He pretends to find it annoying but he secretly loves it.

Whenever you'd brush his hair, you'd sometimes mention how short it was and that you couldn't do any hairstyles with it, which, on one hand, was good for his pride, but on the other hand, made you sad which also made him slightly sad. So he made the very rational decision to grow his hair out for you so that you could style it one day!

"Alastor, is your hair longer than before?"

"Hm? Is it?" he would never admit he did it for you! 𓋼 At one point, you were in the lobby with everyone else and you started wondering about Alastor's ears since he never actually mentioned anything, of course, you remembered Charlie's constant pleading to pet him, to which he always refused with his typical "Ha! No.", which made you more curious, if perhaps you could get away with it as his mother.

So, only naturally, you placed your hand atop his head and pet him, his ears lightly twitching. Charlie squealed. Of course she did.

"Oh my gosh! Can I do that too?!" she asked

"Haha! Absolutely not."

She wasn't very happy. She ended up pouting the entire day, Vaggie having to comfort her. To Charlie, it was like someone telling her not to pet a cute cat! Absolutely heartbreaking 𓋼 On that specific day, you also asked if he had a tail, and considering he had ears, it would make sense for there to be a tail too. Of course, silly Alastor was too embarrassed to answer in front of everyone, so he avoided the question!

"You're very positive today, Mother, did something good happen?"

"Nothing in particular, so about your tail-!"

"That's for me to know and you to… maybe, find out, Mother!"

You asked him about it again when you two weren't around the others, so he decided to show you! it was a nice revelation. 𓋼 You noticed that the shadow Alastor has following you around all the time, sometimes disappears, so you used that opportunity to go meet Lucifer as he invited you for tea countless times, and who are you to decline such a kind invitation?

When Alastor realised he couldn't find you anywhere in the hotel, he panicked and searched every inch of it multiple times, until Vaggie had finally had enough and asked him what happened.

"What are you doing, Alastor?"

"Searching for my Mother! She's gone missing, you see!" of course, he had a menacing look on his face.

"She mentioned she was going out for a while"

"Oh? And did she say… where?"

"Nope, well anyway, good luck!"

Yeah, Vaggie just left him. So he waited for you patiently at the hotel entrance. When you finally returned, he clung to you like his life depended on it, asking you many questions. 𓋼 I feel like whenever the Overlords had important, confidential, meetings, Alastor would immediately return to the hotel and tell you all about them, whether it be out of spite or fun. You definitely enjoyed knowing all the things going on in hell. 𓋼 You and Niffty put makeup on him when he was asleep and pinned his hair back (Alastor was pretending to sleep, just letting you two do your thing). Angel started laughing and giving him silly nicknames when he saw his hair, which inevitably caused him to shake his head very fast, removing the pin from his hair. 𓋼 Your first birthday with everyone. Of course, Alastor threw you a party. It was meant to be a surprise but considering he’s always with you, you found out because he was more secretive than before (you managed to guilt-trip him into telling you what he was hiding) 𓋼 For Christmas (if you celebrate it), you decorate Alastor with Christmas lights! He says he hates it but he definitely doesn’t, although it certainly made him a little bit scarier when he did that spooky thing with his eyes!

"Mother. Please do explain again why you decided to put christmas lights on me."

"You're more colourful this way!" you turned the lights on, so that now they were switching between multiple colours

Angel and Niffty ended up hanging a few baubles on his antlers too, before he noticed. 𓋼 Charlie had asked about your time alive so you began telling her, and everyone else who was listening, about some silly stories! When Alastor came into the lobby and heard you telling an embarrassing story about him, his ears lightly twitched and flattened against his head. He was just a little bit embarrassed.

Of course, he tried to leave again, unnoticed, however, the all-too bubbly charlie saw him and invited him to join.

"Alastor! [Name] was just telling us stories, come join us!"

"No"

"Alastor, darling, Charlie is being very kind! You need to be around these souls more! Come join."

Of course, he can't say no to you, so he ended up sitting by your side as you continued to tell the story about him, you lightly pet him and hugged him from time to time. Although his ears still stayed flat against his head. 𓋼 You wanted to make a flower crown, but since no flowers actually existed in hell, you had to make do with other things (paper). Yes, you made paper flowers and then turned them into a makeshift flower crown, which you then placed on top of Alastor's head.

"Mother?"

"Darling, I made you a paper flower crown!" 𓋼 Alternatively, you may've decided to sneak out again to find Lucifer.

"Luci, can you sneak us into Heaven?"

"Heaven?! Why?"

"I need flowers"

"Why would you need flowers?"

"To make Alastor a flower crown!"

Yeah, he wasn't too excited about that idea but he still agreed, although it did take a bit of… bribery…

"I'll… give you a kiss if you agree!"

"Let's go!" he opened the portal immediately and took you with him.

In the end, you got all the flowers you needed (after being chased out by Lute and Adam), so you were both… somewhere in hell, for sure.

"So… about what you said, before I got us into Heaven…"

"Oh, right!" You never specified where you'd kiss him so you simply kissed his cheek, he was a little disappointed but it's alright, you got Alastor a lovely flower crown! 𓋼 I feel like he would've been very afraid of spiders when he was alive, and then you were left with the task to exterminate any that entered your home (whether or not you were also afraid) 𓋼 You were quite a fan of new technology (though not completely obsessed), it made life far easier for you, though Alastor always 'confiscated' everything when he was around as he wasn't too keen on it.

"Mother, I don't see what you like about this device so much."

"It's simple to use and makes things quite a bit simpler than back when we were alive."

"I think it's pointless."

"Yes, you've always been a fan of radio… I see that obsession has stuck, even after death"

"It is not an obsession, Mother. I prefer 'fascination'!"

[kckt88]

A Heartbeat Between Us IX

Summary:

In the wake of Y.N's departure, Aemond wallows in his heartbreak until a surprising person comes to his aid and as certain revelations come to light Aemond is determined to fight for his relationship and show Y.N how much he loves her.

Warning(s): Angst, Drama, Fluff, Tension, Swearing, Idiocy, Revelations, Memories, Kissing, Smut, Fingering, Oral Sex, P in V.

AEMOND x Y.N

Word Count: 7340

A.N - Most of the story is already written, as I start a new job on Saturday :-)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole @toodlesxcuddles @mamawiggers1980 @minttea07 @nommingonfood

The days that followed Y.N.’s departure blurred into an agonizing haze for Aemond. He spent most of his time on the sofa, whiskey bottle in hand, sinking deeper into despair.

The once pristine penthouse was now littered with empty bottles, discarded clothes, and half-eaten food. He hadn't showered, hadn't gone to work. He was lost in his grief, his regret festering with every passing hour.

He lay face down on the sofa, the leather cold against his skin as the weight of everything bore down on him. His thoughts spiralled as the familiar sting of tears pricked his eye again.

The door creaked open, but he didn’t bother to move. He assumed it was some kind of hallucination, a product of his misery coming to taunt him.

Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder, warm and solid. Startled, he turned his head and blinked up at the figure standing beside him.

It was Aegon.

Without a word, Aegon knelt down beside him and wrapped his arms around Aemond’s trembling body, pulling him into a tight, protective embrace.

Aemond’s resolve crumbled completely. The sobs he had been trying to suppress for days burst out, raw and broken, as he clung to his brother like a lifeline.

Aegon held him firmly, his hand gently running over the back of Aemond’s head, hushing him softly. "It’s okay," he whispered. "Just let it out, Aemond. I’ve got you."

Aemond's words were barely coherent through the tears. "How-how did you know?" he choked out, his voice thick with sorrow.

Aegon sighed softly, still holding him. "Y.N”

Aemond pulled back slightly, his swollen eye searching his brother’s face. "Is she with you?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, desperate for any hint of hope.

Aegon shook his head, his expression soft with sympathy. "No, she’s not. She called and asked me to come check on you”

“D-Do you know where she is?” asked Aemond.

“No. She didn’t tell me where she is. She just-wanted to make sure you were okay."

Aemond’s heart twisted painfully in his chest. She hadn’t abandoned him completely—she still cared enough to send Aegon.

But the uncertainty of where she was, whether she’d ever come back, gnawed at him like a festering wound.

"I’ve lost her, Aegon," he whispered, his voice broken. "I’ve lost everything."

Aegon looked at him with a mix of sadness and frustration. "You haven’t lost everything. You’ve still got a chance to fix this, but not if you keep drowning yourself in booze." He glanced around the messy penthouse and sighed. "You need to pull yourself together, brother."

Aemond shook his head, tears spilling down his face again. "I don’t know if I can. I pushed her away. I let Alys-I let her ruin everything."

Aegon tightened his grip on his shoulder. "You made a mistake. But you don’t get to give up now. Not on her, not on Jack." His voice softened, filled with an unusual tenderness. "She loves you, Aemond. I’ve seen it. And you love her. So, fight for her. Fight for your family."

Aemond swallowed hard, his hands trembling as he tried to wipe the tears from his face. He was a mess, broken beyond recognition.

But Aegon’s words pierced through the fog of despair just enough to remind him of what he still had—a chance, however small, to make things right.

"Where do I even start?" Aemond whispered, more to himself than to Aegon.

Aegon gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Start by cleaning yourself up. Get back on your feet. And when she’s ready to listen, you tell her everything. You show her how much she means to you. But first, you need to be the man she fell in love with—not this."

Aemond nodded weakly, the weight of his guilt and sorrow still heavy on his chest, but for the first time in days, a faint glimmer of hope flickered inside him.

He wasn’t ready to give up on Y.N. Not yet.

After days of wallowing in self-pity, Aemond finally stood up, determined to clean himself up—both literally and figuratively.

The penthouse was a disaster, a reflection of his inner turmoil. Empty bottles, crumpled clothes, and discarded takeout containers were strewn everywhere.

He started with the mess. Collecting the bottles, he threw them into the recycling bin, tidied up the living room, and straightened the cushions on the sofa.

With each action, he felt a sliver of control returning, a faint hope that he could fix not just the penthouse but his life, too. When the living space was back in order, he made his way to the bathroom.

A long shower followed, steam filling the room as he stood beneath the hot water. Afterward, he shaved, carefully watching his own reflection in the mirror.

His face, now clean-shaven, still bore the marks of sleepless nights and too much drinking, but it was a start. He dressed in a crisp suit, as if putting on armour, preparing for the day ahead.

The next morning, Aemond arrived at the office, trying to compose himself. He sat in his chair, hands on the desk, staring blankly at the papers in front of him when the door opened.

Rhaenyra walked in, her presence commanding the room immediately. She shut the door behind her and gave him a stern look, arms crossed.

"Where have you been, Aemond?" she asked, her tone sharp. "You’ve missed the last few days without a word."

Aemond sighed, running a hand through his freshly washed hair. "Y.N. left me," he admitted, his voice quiet but heavy with pain. "She took Jack and I didn’t take it well."

Rhaenyra’s expression softened slightly. "Does this have anything to do with Alys?" she asked, and Aemond’s head snapped up in surprise.

"How do you know about that?"

"I overheard Larys arguing with her. I’m sure you’re not surprised, considering how intertwined our businesses can be."

Aemond frowned, leaning forward. "What was said?"

Rhaenyra sat down across from him. "Larys wasn’t too happy with her vendetta against you. Apparently, he warned her off a while ago. When she wouldn’t back off, he cut ties with her."

Aemond’s expression darkened. "She told me she parted ways with Larys to pursue her own career."

Rhaenyra scoffed. "Not exactly. She was trying to go it alone because Larys ended their partnership. He didn’t want her personal issues interfering with his deals, especially with Targaryen Inc."

Aemond felt a deep pang of humiliation. "I feel like a fool. I even recommended clients to her."

Rhaenyra gave him a pointed look. "It’s a shame then that the clients you recommended had contracts signed with Targaryen Inc, not with Alys’s company."

Aemond blinked. "How?"

"It was a mix-up with one of the assistants. They handed over the wrong contracts for the clients to sign. A total misunderstanding, of course. The assistant has been reprimanded, but the contracts remain valid."

Aemond shook his head. "So, I’ve been recommending clients to her, but they’re still contracted with us."

"Exactly. But you need to cut ties with Alys—completely. She’s not going to be happy when she realizes those clients aren’t really hers."

Aemond nodded, rubbing a hand over his face. "I’m done with her. I should’ve been done with her the moment she reached out. I was trying to right a wrong, but all I did was make things worse."

Rhaenyra regarded him thoughtfully. "Don’t be too hard on yourself, Aemond. Any man who tries to fix his mistakes isn’t a total fool."

Aemond scoffed. "Well, I sure feel like one. It’s cost me Y.N. and Jack."

Rhaenyra smiled faintly. "Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Y.N. is entitled to feel angry and hurt, but it’s because she loves you. I could tell by the way she talked about you."

Aemond furrowed his brow, hope flickering in his chest. "Wait-how do you know?"

Rhaenyra slid a piece of card across the desk toward him. Aemond picked it up, staring at the address written on it.

"What is this?" he asked, his voice wavering.

"It’s where Y.N. and Jack are staying."

Aemond’s heart pounded. "I didn’t know where she was," he said quietly, almost in disbelief.

"That’s why Y.N. came to me," Rhaenyra explained. "She needed some time away to think things through. She just needed space."

Aemond met Rhaenyra’s eyes, his voice softer now. "Why are you helping me? We haven’t always been close."

Rhaenyra’s smile was gentle, almost wistful. "No, we haven’t. But we’re family, Aemond. And perhaps if things had gone differently in the past, we would’ve been closer. Nothing can make up for the loss of your eye, but maybe this is a start."

Aemond watched her rise from her chair, and as she reached the door, he called out, curiosity tugging at him.

“The assistant that mixed up the contracts-who was it?"

Rhaenyra smiled as she turned back to him, amusement in her eyes. "It was Jacaerys." With that, she left the office, leaving Aemond to stare after her, the card still clutched in his hand.

He looked down at the address, hope swelling in his chest once again. Maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to fix everything.

Aemond stepped into the elevator, the metallic doors sliding shut behind him with a soft ping. He glanced up and froze when he saw Jacaerys standing at the far end of the lift.

For a few long seconds, silence stretched between them, thick and awkward.

Aemond cleared his throat, breaking the tension. "Rhaenyra told me what happened with the contracts for Alys."

Jace shifted slightly, crossing his arms. "Yeah, unfortunate mistake," he said casually, though the underlying meaning wasn’t lost on either of them. "Guess I wasn’t paying enough attention."

Aemond's gaze sharpened, and he turned to face Jace fully. "Why did you do it?"

Jacaerys sighed, his eyes fixed on the floor before he met Aemond’s one-eyed stare. "My mother wasn’t the only one to overhear Larys and Alys arguing, I heard what she said about wanting to get back at you-”

Aemond was taken aback. He hadn't expected Jace to get involved in this, not after everything between them. "But-you hate me," Aemond said slowly, narrowing his eyes.

Jace shook his head. "I don’t hate you, Aemond. I just really dislike you." A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, and Aemond huffed a quiet, surprised laugh. "There’s a slight difference."

Aemond looked down, almost disbelieving at this turn of events. He hadn’t expected Jacaerys of all people to interfere in a way that helped him. "Thank you."

Jace shrugged, his tone dismissive. "I didn’t do it for you. I did it for Y.N." He paused, his voice softening slightly. "I thought that she was the love of my life. But I’m not hers. You are"

The elevator doors pinged open at the ground floor, revealing the lobby ahead.

Aemond stood there, stunned, processing Jace’s words. He blinked, still finding it hard to believe.

"Even after everything that’s happened?" Aemond asked, his voice low.

Jace gave a small, encouraging nod. "Yes. Even after everything." He met Aemond’s eye seriously before jerking his head toward the exit. "Now stop wasting time talking to me and go get your girl."

Aemond nodded, gratitude bubbling up inside him as he stepped out of the lift. "Thanks again."

Jace smirked and called out after him, "Let’s not make a habit out of this."

As the elevator doors slid shut behind him, Aemond felt a spark of hope ignite in his chest.

The world seemed a little brighter, and for the first time in days, the path ahead didn’t feel so uncertain.

Jace's words echoed in his mind, propelling him forward. It was time to fix what he had broken, he just needed to figure out how.

Aemond stood in front of the modest block of flats, feeling a lump form in his throat as he stared up at the building. This was the address Rhaenyra had given him.

He clutched a bouquet of pink roses tightly in his hand, trying to steel his nerves.

Before he could gather his thoughts, the blare of his car horn startled him. He whipped around to see Aegon leaning out the window, impatient.

"Come the fuck on, Aemond! Get up there, I’m bored of waiting," Aegon called out.

Aemond snapped, "It’s been five minutes!"

"More like five years with how slow you’re moving. Just get up there, and text me if she agrees or not." Aegon flicked through the car’s radio as if this was just another one of his casual outings.

With a huff, Aemond turned back to the building and walked through the entrance, leaving Aegon to amuse himself.

Inside, the place was quiet, starkly different from his sleek penthouse or even Y.N.’s old apartment. This was simpler, more modest.

He called for the lift, his heart pounding as it carried him to the fifth floor. He stepped out, taking slow strides down the hallway until he reached apartment 143.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door.

After a few moments, the door creaked open, revealing Y.N. standing there, looking as beautiful and calm as ever despite the tension between them.

Aemond cleared his throat. "Can I come in?"

Y.N. stepped aside, silently motioning for him to enter. As he walked in, he handed her the bouquet. "These are for you."

She accepted them with a small smile. "Thank you." As she moved to put the roses in a jug of water, Aemond glanced around the apartment.

It was bare, minimal, but it felt warm and lived in. His gaze fell on Jack, nestled in a small pile of pillows and blankets on the floor, wide awake and squirming.

Aemond’s voice softened. "May I?"

Y.N. nodded. "He just woke up."

Aemond knelt beside his son, feeling a surge of emotion as Jack recognized him, flashing a gummy smile.

His little legs kicked in excitement, and Aemond’s heart melted.

He scooped him up, holding him close and inhaling his baby scent. "Daddy’s missed you so much, little one."

Y.N., meanwhile, busied herself with arranging the roses in a jug. "I don’t have a vase," she explained almost apologetically. "I don’t have much of anything here, really. Just the basics."

Aemond glanced at her. "Are you okay for money? For things for Jack?"

"I’m fine," she assured him, though her voice was soft, almost distant. "I figured you came here to talk."

"I did." Aemond nodded, still cradling Jack in his arms as he paced around the apartment. "What made you turn to Rhaenyra for help?"

"I went to Helaena first," Y.N. said, not meeting his gaze. "But it was her who contacted Rhaenyra. We both knew you’d come around eventually, and I didn’t want to bring trouble to Helaena’s door."

Aemond frowned, a flash of guilt crossing his face. "I would never hurt Helaena."

Y.N. finally looked up at him. "Just like you wouldn’t hurt Aegon? He told me you punched him in the face."

Aemond grimaced. "I thought Aegon didn’t know where you were."

"He didn’t." Y.N. raised an eyebrow. "There is such a thing as text messages, you know."

Aemond sighed, bouncing Jack gently in his arms as he moved around the apartment, trying to find the right words. "Did Rhaenyra tell you about Alys?"

"The mistake with the contracts or her vendetta against you?" Y.N. asked, her voice steady but edged with hurt.

Aemond let out a humourless laugh. "Both."

"Yes, she told me," Y.N. said, her tone shifting to something softer.

Aemond nodded, guilt gnawing at him. "I feel like a fool," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "I just-I thought I was making amends for what happened, trying to right my wrongs. But I see now how wrong I was."

"I know," Y.N. said quietly, watching him as he held their son. There was no malice in her voice, only weariness.

"As angry as I am at you, I’m angry at myself too," she added after a beat. Aemond looked up, surprised.

"Why?" he asked.

"For letting Alys drive a wedge between us," Y.N. explained, her voice trembling slightly. "What you did was stupid, yes. You should have just apologized and sent her on her way. But you didn’t. And it allowed her to come between us."

Aemond’s heart clenched. "I’m sorry. I should’ve seen through her manipulation. I never meant to hurt you."

Y.N. sighed, her eyes meeting his, filled with conflicted emotions. "I know," she whispered.

The room fell silent for a moment, the only sound the soft gurgles of Jack in Aemond's arms as they stood together, caught between love and uncertainty.

Aemond stood there, the weight of uncertainty heavy in the air. His gaze was locked on Y.N., his heart pounding with a desperate question.

“Is there any hope for us?” His voice was almost a whisper, thick with emotion.

Y.N. looked down, her fingers twisting together as she struggled to find the right words. "I-I don't know," she said softly, her voice tinged with the pain of their shared past.

“Please,” Aemond implored, stepping closer, his voice raw and vulnerable. “Just give me a chance to prove how much I love you.”

Y.N. sighed, meeting his eye. “And how are you going to do that, Aemond?”

Without hesitation, Aemond pulled out his phone and quickly sent a text. “I’m going to show you,” he said simply, his voice filled with quiet determination.

Moments later, there was a knock at the door. Aemond opened it, revealing Aegon, who immediately reached for Jack with a grin.

“Look at my little buddy!” Aegon cooed as he scooped Jack into his arms. “I’ve missed you so much” as Jack gurgled happily, clearly thrilled to see his uncle.

Aegon then handed Aemond a carrier bag.

Aemond turned to Y.N. and, with a gentle smile, held the bag out to her. “Go get changed.”

Y.N. blinked, a mix of curiosity and reluctance in her expression. She glanced between Aemond and Aegon before taking the bag and disappearing into the bedroom.

A few minutes later, she re-emerged, wearing a stunning blue chiffon lace midi dress. The delicate fabric flowed around her, and the soft lace highlighted her elegance.

Aemond’s breath caught in his throat as he gazed at her. “You look beautiful,” he said, his voice thick with awe. A faint blush spread across Y.N.'s cheeks as she looked away shyly.

Aegon, ever the distraction, chimed in with a playful grin. “Well, I’m here to babysit Jack, so you two better get going and have a great time.” He paused, glancing around the apartment. “Now, where are the takeout menus?”

Y.N. laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t actually have any, but you could always google some.”

Aegon stared at her in mock disbelief. “What kind of person doesn’t have takeout menus? Honestly.”

Aemond smirked. “One who doesn’t live off takeaways, like you.”

Aegon scoffed, shaking his head. “Pot, kettle, brother. That’s all you’ve been eating lately.”

Aemond winced slightly, catching Y.N.’s curious glance. He rubbed the back of his neck, sheepishly admitting, “I didn’t feel like cooking.”

Aegon let out a loud, exaggerated sigh. “Didn’t feel like showering either. Honestly, he was rank”

Y.N. chuckled softly, shaking her head at the brothers’ banter. She leaned down, pressing a kiss to Jack’s head, her voice soft and maternal. “Food for Jack is in the fridge, and you just need to-”

“—heat it up,” Aegon interrupted, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve got it. We’ll be just fine. Don’t worry about a thing.”

Aemond leaned over to bid Jack farewell, pressing a gentle kiss to his son’s head. Then, he turned to Y.N., extending his hand to her. “Shall we?”

Y.N. hesitated for a split second before placing her hand in his.

The moment their fingers intertwined, Aemond felt his heart skip a beat. It was a simple touch, but it was enough to fill him with hope.

As they walked out the door, Aegon called after them, already settling into the sofa with Jack in his arms. “You better text me if this goes well! I’ve got a bet going with Daeron”

Aemond ignored him, focused entirely on Y.N., as they stepped into the hallway. His heart raced with anticipation.

Whatever happened tonight, he was determined to show her just how much she meant to him.

Aemond led Y.N. through the grand gardens of Targaryen Manor, the evening air cool and soft against their skin.

Y.N. glanced around, admiring the place, but a flicker of curiosity crossed her face as she asked, "Why have you brought me here?"

Aemond smiled gently, his grip tightening on her hand as they continued walking. “You’ll see,” he murmured.

"Is Otto going to be here?" she asked, a hint of concern in her voice.

Aemond shook his head. “No. He’s away visiting Gwayne, and my mother’s having dinner with Helaena tonight.”

“So, it’s just us?” Y.N. asked softly.

“Just us,” he confirmed, but instead of leading her into the manor, he took a turn and guided her toward the sprawling gardens.

Y.N.’s breath hitched as they stepped into a secluded area. Laid out before her was an elegantly prepared picnic, illuminated by soft lanterns hanging from the trees, casting a warm glow over the scene.

A blanket was spread neatly on the grass, adorned with a variety of delicacies, surrounded by delicate flowers in bloom.

“Aemond,” Y.N. gasped, taking in the sight, a smile tugging at her lips. “You did this?”

“I had a little help,” Aemond admitted, his eye glinting with affection.

“Helaena?” Y.N. guessed, knowing his sister's touch was all over this. Aemond nodded, smiling.

As they stood there for a moment, Aemond moved behind her, gently turning her to face the manor.

He rested his hands lightly on her waist, his lips close to her ear. “Second floor,” he whispered, pointing toward the house. “Third from the left.”

Y.N. squinted, trying to figure out the significance. “It’s-a window?” she asked, confused.

Aemond chuckled softly. “Yes. That’s where I was standing the first time I saw you.”

Y.N. gasped, her head snapping toward him. “Really?”

He nodded, his voice low and reminiscent. “I was lying on my bed, and I heard you laughing. So, I got up, went to the window, and watched you. You were with Helaena, completely mesmerized when that butterfly landed on your hand. She wanted to keep it, but you-” he paused, a small smile playing on his lips, “-you let it fly free.”

Y.N. smiled at the memory. She had always loved butterflies, and the way Helaena cherished each one.

Aemond then led her toward a nearby hedge, stopping once they reached it. “And it was here,” he said, tracing his hand over the leaves, “-that you first saw my scar.”

“The wind blew your hood off,” Y.N. remembered, her voice gentle.

Aemond’s eye locked on hers, his voice soft. “Do you remember what you said to me?”

Y.N. nodded, her throat tightening as she whispered, “I told you not to hide. That your scar showed that you were brave.”

Aemond swallowed hard, the emotion in his chest swelling as he guided her back to the picnic blanket.

They both sat down, and after a moment of silence, Aemond opened the basket and pulled out an old, worn notebook.

“This-” he said, handing it to her, “-is where I wrote down all the things I wanted to say but couldn’t.”

Y.N. hesitated before gently taking the notebook from him. As she opened it, the sight of Aemond’s messy scrawl made her heart flutter.

She began reading through the childhood musings, and each entry hit her like a wave of nostalgia.

The early entries were sweet, filled with the innocent thoughts of a boy. Aemond had written about how pretty he thought she was, how special it made him feel when she called him brave.

Then she read about how much he liked her but was too afraid to tell her, fearing rejection.

As she turned the pages, she came across entries about their childhood, how she would read to him during sleepovers to help with his headaches.

Each word tugged at her heartstrings.

Then, the tone changed as they got older. Aemond’s words became more conflicted, expressing frustration.

He wrote about how he picked on her, not because he wanted to, but because he didn’t know how to get close to her.

There was a passage about how much he hated when she smiled at Aegon or laughed at his jokes.

And then there was the entry about the night Aegon kissed her during a game of spin the bottle.

Y.N. paused, looking up at Aemond. “I totally forgot about that,” she said, her tone light and a little embarrassed.

Aemond smiled slightly, encouraging her to continue. “Keep reading.”

The later entries were more sporadic, reflecting their time apart as they grew older. Aemond lamented about feeling like a coward for not telling her how he truly felt.

He wrote about the attention he received from other girls, but how none of it mattered because none of them were her. And then came the entry that talked about her leaving for art college.

His pain was palpable as he wrote about not knowing when—or if—he would ever see her again.

Finally, she reached the last entry. It was short, simple, and yet devastatingly sincere: No matter what happens, my heart will always belong to her.

Y.N. closed the notebook, her hands trembling slightly as she handed it back to him. Tears welled in her eyes and slowly began to fall, the weight of his feelings over the years crashing over her.

Aemond took the notebook from her but didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. The rawness of the moment, the vulnerability he had just laid bare before her, spoke volumes.

After enjoying the spread of food laid out for their picnic, Aemond and Y.N. packed up, the soft glow of lanterns fading behind them as they walked hand-in-hand back to the car.

The air between them was filled with a sense of calm and a quiet closeness that neither wanted to break.

As they got in the car, Y.N. smiled. "Where are we off to now?" she asked playfully, watching him from the passenger seat.

Aemond gave her a knowing smile but said nothing, only shaking his head as he started the engine. The hum of the car and the soft tunes from the radio filled the silence as they drove off into the night.

It wasn’t long before they pulled up in front of a familiar building—The Dragon’s Den, the very place where their story had taken a significant turn all those months ago.

Y.N. furrowed her brows, glancing at Aemond. “I think it’s closed,” she said, a slight chuckle in her voice.

Aemond smirked and pulled out a set of keys from his pocket, jingling them with a grin. “Not for us,” he said.

She raised an eyebrow in surprise as he unlocked the door and gestured for her to step inside. The space was eerily quiet, devoid of the usual bustling crowd and vibrant atmosphere that she remembered from that fateful night.

After locking the door behind them, Aemond led her towards the dance floor.

“How did you get the keys?” she asked, her voice filled with curiosity.

Aemond gave her a sly look. “I know the owner,” he said with a casual shrug, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

He left her standing in the middle of the dance floor for a moment as he made his way toward the sound system. Y.N. watched him, her heart beating a little faster with each passing second.

Then, the melody of the song they had danced to on that unforgettable night filled the club, the music wrapping around them like a warm embrace.

Y.N. giggled softly as Aemond returned, removing his jacket and tossing it to the side. “Care to dance?” he asked, his voice low and inviting.

She slipped her arms around his shoulders, pressing her body against his as they began to sway to the music, just like they had that first night.

As they moved together, Aemond's eye never left hers.

“Do you ever think about that night?” he asked, his voice soft, almost a whisper against the backdrop of the music. “About how much our lives have changed since?”

Y.N. nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “All the time,” she admitted. “I almost didn’t come out that night. Helaena had to convince me.”

Aemond’s hand tightened slightly around her waist, his lips curving into a tender smile. “I’m glad she did,” he murmured, pulling her just a little closer.

They continued to dance, their bodies swaying in time with the rhythm, a comfortable silence settling between them.

Aemond’s hand came up to cup her face, his thumb gently brushing across her cheek as he leaned down, his lips a breath away from hers.

“I love you so much,” he whispered, the raw emotion behind his words evident in his voice.

Y.N. smiled, her heart swelling with affection. “I love you too,” she whispered back before closing the small distance between them, their lips meeting in a passionate, lingering kiss.

As the music played on, they melted into each other, their bodies still moving in sync with the slow, sweet melody. Everything else seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in that quiet, intimate moment.

Aemond took a small step back from Y.N., his chest rising and falling heavily as he gathered his thoughts. His eye, filled with raw emotion, searched hers, and he exhaled deeply.

"I know that I’m a complete idiot," he began, his voice thick with regret. "And I’m so sorry for what happened. Please believe me when I say I will never hurt you again."

Y.N. looked at him, her heart pounding, as she listened closely. Aemond continued, his voice steady but laced with emotion, "You and Jack mean everything to me. I swear I will spend the rest of my life making sure you both know that—every single day."

Without breaking eye contact, Aemond gently took her hand in his. His fingers trembled slightly as he reached into his trouser pocket, pulling out a small, velvet box.

The movement was careful, nervous, but determined. Y.N.’s breath caught in her throat as she realized what was happening.

Aemond, never taking his eye off her, slowly descended onto one knee, his heart racing in sync with hers.

"Y.N.," he said softly, opening the box to reveal a beautiful, glimmering ring nestled inside. "Will you marry me?"

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of their breathing and the gentle hum of the soft music still playing in the background.

Then, Y.N.'s lips parted into a radiant smile, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Yes," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Yes, I will marry you."

A wide, joyous grin broke out across Aemond’s face. With trembling hands, he slid the ring onto her finger, and once it was in place, he stood up, pulling her into his arms.

In one swift motion, he lifted her off her feet, spinning her around in circles as they both laughed, the sound of their joy echoing through the empty club.

When he finally lowered her back to the ground, they were both breathless, their laughter fading into quiet, intimate smiles. Aemond cupped her face, brushing his lips gently against hers in a sweet, lingering kiss.

"Mrs. Targaryen" he whispered softly against her lips, his forehead resting against hers.

Y.N. giggled, her heart bursting with happiness, and she kissed him again, her fingers gently running through his hair.

In that moment, with Aemond’s arms wrapped tightly around her and their love stronger than ever, they had found their way back to each other.

And this time, it was forever.

Aemond and Y.N. arrived back at his penthouse, the atmosphere buzzing with excitement after their evening together.

As they stepped inside, Aemond closed the door behind them, and his eye flicked to Y.N., a smile playing on his lips.

“Well,” Aemond began with a teasing tone, glancing around the familiar surroundings, “since you no longer live at your old apartment, we can’t replicate that night exactly. But this will do.”

His smile grew wider as he shrugged off his coat and moved to the drinks cabinet.

Y.N. chuckled, slipping off her heels as she watched him. Her eyes sparkled with a playful glint, the night’s events still coursing through her, making her feel bold.

She leaned against the wall; arms crossed loosely as Aemond rummaged through the cabinet.

He turned around, bottle in hand, raising a brow. "What would you like to drink?" he asked, though his grin hinted that he already knew what her answer might be.

Y.N. smirked and echoed the words that he’d said to her that fateful night, her voice soft but filled with playful intent.

“We both know I didn’t come here for a drink.”

Aemond’s eye darkened with the same intensity she remembered from that night. He set the bottle down without hesitation, crossing the room to her in long, purposeful strides.

His hands reached for her, fingers gently gripping her waist as he pulled her against him.

“Is that so?” he whispered, his breath warm against her lips, his face mere inches from hers.

Wasting no time, Aemond pressed his lips to hers in a deep, hungry kiss. Y.N. melted into him, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as their kiss deepened, fiery and intense.

In that instant, everything else faded away. The penthouse, the memories, the past—they all vanished, leaving only the present moment.

Aemond kissed her like she was the only thing that mattered.

Then Y.N slipped her fingers under the strap of his eyepatch and pulled it from his head.

She stood silent she stared at the scar the bisected his cheek.

The sapphire glinting in the low light.

“You are still so-beautiful” whispered Y.N as she leaned forward and placed a number of kisses along his scarred cheek and over the sapphire.

Aemond closed his eye in delight at the tender gesture, a contented sigh escaping his lips.

“Hmmm” rasped Aemond as he ran his thumb over Y.N’s bottom lip, his eye going wide as she opened her mouth and nipped at his thumb before sucking it into her mouth.

“Please-“ moaned Y.N

"I’ve waited too long for this, Y.N."

She smiled up at him, her heart racing. "Then don’t make me wait any longer."

Aemond growled as he took her hand and pulled her to the bedroom, he all but kicked the door open.

He turned to face her, and he put his arms around her waist and kissed her passionately, deepening the kiss as she moaned into his mouth. His tongue pushing against hers.

Y.N ran her fingers across his lithe body. His muscles rippling under her fingertips.

She finished unbuttoning the shirt he wore, placing feathery kisses on his sparsely haired chest as the shirt was removed.

Her fingers toying with the silver cross chain he still wore.

Groaning against her creamy smooth skin, he kissed her neck, sucking on the delicate flesh as she leaned into him, enjoying his every touch.

Her dress felt heavy on her. She wanted to be rid of it. She wanted to feel his skin on hers. She reluctantly broke free of his embrace and turned her back to him moving her hair out of the way.

His fingers trembled as he grasped the zip to her dress and pulled it the rest of the way down, the sound echoed through the quiet penthouse, and he pressed his lips to the back of her neck.

Using his long fingers, he freed her from the confinements of her dress, and it fell to join his shirt on the floor.

She wasn’t wearing a bra, which excited him.

Goosebumps appeared where his fingers moved over her. Cupping her ample breasts from behind, Aemond pulled Y.N against his chest.

Burying himself in the crook of her neck, sucking on the skin whilst his fingers massaged the soft mounds and played with her hardened r nipples.

Aemond turned her to face him. Kissing her again, he trailed kisses down her body and took a rosy nipple in his mouth.

Sucking on the bud, he bit down lightly, earning a low moan from deep within her.

He continued his actions on the other breast and kissed past her stomach until he knelt before her.

Her fingers in his hair tightened as he ran the tips of his fingers from her stomach down to her core.

Slowly he grasped the lace of her knickers and ripped them from her, pressing the ruined material to his nose and inhaling her scent before standing up.

Y.N reached forward to undo the buttons on his trousers, then she directed him backwards towards the bed.

Her fingers stroked his body, not missing an inch of flesh, admiring the way his muscles twitched under her touch.

Biting down on her lip, she knelt between his legs, and pulled his trousers and boxers down his shapely legs and threw them to the floor.

Aemond reached forward and pulled her onto the bed.

He manoeuvred her onto her back and covered her body with his as he sucked and licked at the delicate skin of her neck, leaving red marks in his wake.

Y.N moved her head to the side and moaned loudly as she felt Aemond’s teeth nipping at her skin.

Ooo A-Aemond” exclaimed Y.N as he moved down her body, nibbling her at her skin as he went.

“Still such a pretty pussy " breathed Aemond, spitting on her pussy before he ran the flat of his tongue up her soaked slit, from bottom to the top, tasting her.

“Oh, my god” moaned Y.N her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

“That’s it my darling. Let me hear you”. 

“YES! It feels so good. Don’t stop. Aemond. Please” begged Y.N.

"Delicious" purred Aemond as he began lapping at Y.N, running his tongue along every fold.

"More" panted Y.N. "Please. I need more”.

Aemond inserted two fingers, sliding them in and out of her slick wet folds.

“Oh, fuck" whimpered Y.N; her chest heaving.

 Aemond’s fingers were soaking wet as they continued to pump in and out of her tight heat.

“I can’t wait to get my cock inside you. I don’t want to wait any longer, come for me baby,” moaned Aemond, his face pressed between her shaking thighs.

Y.N arched  her back and screamed as her climax washed over her.

Aemond moved his fingers slowly and lapped at her centre as she squirted all over his face.

“P-Please A-Aemond. Need you” begged Y.N.

Aemond rose to his knees, his chin shining with her slick, he smirked as he swiped his fingers over his chin and then placed them in his mouth.

Aemond moved up Y.N’s body pausing to grasp hold of her left breast as he ran his tongue over the rosy nipple, his teeth grazing the stiffened peak.

“Oh-yes“ gasped Y.N, as he moved to the other breast and lavished it with the same attention.

Aemond then grabbed her around the waist and manoeuvred her body on top of his.

“I want you to ride me-wife” exclaimed Aemond as he lined up his cock with her entrance and sheathed himself inside her with one hard thrust.

Y.N moaned as she rolled her hips against Aemonds, his cock moving in and out of her.

Faster and faster. Harder and deeper, his fingers digging into the flesh of her hips.

"Please don't stop," cried out Y.N

"I have no intention of stopping" growled Aemond, his feet planted firmly on the bed to allow him to increase the intensity of his thrusts.

A satisfied smile spread across his face as he quickened and angled his movements, so his cock rubbed on that special place inside her.

Aemond seemed mesmerized by the sight of her breasts bouncing in front of him as he surged forward, his mouth wrapping around one rosy bud.

His teeth and tongue teasing the stiffened peak.

“Gods-yes Aemond” shrieked Y.N as she bounced on his cock, her hands coiled in is long silver hair.

“That’s it baby-take it-take all of me” growled Aemond leaning back as he moved Y.N’s hips in time with his thrusts.

“Oh gods-” wailed Y.N.

“That’s it-FUCK Y.N” groaned Aemond as he took hold of her and quickly manoeuvred her onto her back, his cock never leaving the warm wetness of her as he began to pound into her, the sounds of skin slapping on skin echoing around his bedroom.

“P-Please Aemond. Don’t stop. Don’t stop-“ whimpered Y.N.

“Come for me baby-come for me” growled Aemond as he felt her clenching around him.

“AEMOND” screamed Y.N as she exploded, her nails digging into his back.

Aemond held back for as long as he could, but his release was upon him.

With a final hard thrust, he spilled rope after rope of his seed inside her.

He muffled his groans into her mouth as she hung onto him, kissing him fervently.

She held him close to her body, whispering words of comfort and satisfaction while running her fingers down his back.

Afterward, Y.N. and Aemond lay together, their bodies tangled in the soft sheets, a warm silence settling over them.

Aemond's hand traced lazy patterns on her skin as he leaned back, his silvery hair spilling over the pillow. He turned his head toward her, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You’re still taking the pill, right?” he asked casually, though there was a hint of something more serious in his tone.

Y.N. giggled softly, her fingers brushing over his chest. “Yes, I am.” She noticed the subtle sigh of relief that left his lips, and her grin grew wider.

“As much as I want more children with you,” Aemond murmured, his voice deep and warm, “I’d like us to be married before the next one.” He smiled, his hand resting on her stomach as if imagining the future.

Y.N. raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised. “You want more children?”

Aemond nodded, his gaze softening as he looked at her. “Yes. You’re a fantastic mother, Y.N. I can’t wait to see you all round and swollen with my child again-just not yet.”

Y.N. chuckled, shaking her head gently. “I think I can agree with that.”

Aemond leaned over, reaching for his trousers where they were discarded on the floor.

He fished out his phone, quickly dialling a number. Y.N. listened in curiosity as the phone rang, and moments later, Aegon’s voice was loud enough for her to hear.

“Bring Jack to the penthouse-” said Aemond.

“So, did you ask her?” Aegon asked eagerly.

Aemond grinned. “I did. And she said yes.”

There was a loud cheer on the other end of the line, followed by Aegon’s voice exclaiming, “Ha! Daeron owes me money! Tight git best pay up.”

Aemond chuckled as he ended the call, tossing his phone onto the nightstand. Y.N. raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching in amusement.

“Do I even want to know what that was about?”

“Just my brothers being idiots,” Aemond replied with a grin, though his eye twinkled with amusement.

Y.N. laughed softly, teasing him. “Must be in the genes.”

Aemond feigned offense, rolling on top of her with a playful growl.

“Careful now.” He kissed her deeply, his lips warm against hers, his hand sliding up her side. He pulled back slightly, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “I wonder if we can manage another round before Aegon gets here with Jack”

Y.N. laughed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’m fairly certain I can manage it, but the question is-can you?”

Aemond smirked, his lips brushing against hers as he replied. “I’ll show you exactly what I can manage.”

TBC

[vourequat]

DADDY, I LOVE YOU!

WARNING: Boothill backstory, daughter is alive!, headcanon of Dad!Boothill, fluff/angst, parent!reader.

Inspired by multiple Tiktoks that have plagued my for you page and has left me scarred for days.

Boothill and you had tried to have a baby ever since you first sealed the deal with the rings that now decorated your ring fingers, it may have been very sad for the both of you with the possibility that you'll never have kids but always reminded you that you were enough.

You and him lived a very peaceful life with you and your farm, it had been fun with your never ending honey moon phase.

You told yourself how lucky you were to be able to manage to convince a man like Boothill to marry you and make you his partner, everyday, you enjoyed watching him till the soil as you watched from afar whilst feeding your farm animals.

It was a beautiful life, until...

"Sugarcube, come see this quick!" You heard Boothill yell from the corn field, you ran as quickly as you could in fear that your husband might be injured but when you reached where he was all you saw was his back turned to you while he seemed to hold something in his hands.

"Love, what's wrong?" You began to question.

That's when he turned around, you gasped.

The most beautiful girl was in his hands, draped in a red cloth as she cooed at your husband.

It was so sad to look at knowing that this baby was most likely abandoned but this was a chance given by the aeons— to finally be parents.

You two cared for the little girl as if she was your very own, you two watched as the little grew so fast. She grew to be a daddy's girl, you had to admit that you were jealous at times but you understand that Boothill wanted this parenthood as much as you did.

Life on the farm with your husband and beloved daughter was like a dream, a dream you never ever wanted to wake up from.

"You guys stay here, a'right?" Boothill was stressed and exasperated, he didn't know why but meteors kept raining and sought havoc amongst the planet.

He couldn't think of anything else but to just do everything for you and your daughter to survive whatever this is.

He ran out with his steed to look for more survivors and possibly answers for this phenomenon, along the way, he found food and other necessities that you can live off for a while.

One of the meteors landed nearby which almost knocked him off of his horse but he managed to keep his balance, curious, he approached the meteor and was shocked at this revelation.

His horse was galloping for its life as he wanted to go back to you and your daughter, you two were probably so scared, his eyes watered at the thought as he kept trying to go beyond natural human speed just to get to you.

Once he arrived, he immediately went inside and snatched the two of you to get going and leave the house.

"What's wrong?" You asked as he mounted you onto his horse, your daughter in your arms before he mounted the horse himself.

"They're not meteors... they're fucking time bombs!" He stressed out, immediately guiding the stallion to get going.

As you were trying to leave however, a large debris landed in front of you that almost reached you all and could've killed you.

It made your heart drop.

The once beautiful planet you had both lived in your entire life was now being torn apart for a reason you don't even know why.

"Boothill..." You were crying, holding onto his arms as you tried to escape the inevitable.

He held your hand back to comfort you, he hated seeing you cry, he would hate himself if you didn't survive this catastrophe.

You soon arrive at a desolate land, the houses that once stood were now burning and turned into nothing into ashes.

"Daddy..." A small hand held onto his jacket that stopped him from doing anything.

He looked at you and at your daughter, clad in the same red cloth you both found her in when you first saw her in your corn field all alone, he tried to smile to hide his fear, he needed to be strong for his baby girl.

"I love you..." The girl uttered, trying to reach her father's eyes to give him a kiss on the cheek.

He just broke down immediately, hugging the two of you as he showered you in kisses as he repeated ‘I love yous’ after every kiss.

His eyes opened and saw one of those meteor bombs hurling towards them, you saw it too but it was all too late as it was getting so close. Boothill hugged the two of you once more, his back to the thing that was about to kill you as your bodies protected your little girl for the very last time.

"I love you, Boothill."

Those memories still felt fresh to him as tried to keep himself from crying when he was told that they will be visiting his planet after years, he had lost his body to the explosion but his head somehow managed to survive which gave way to his chance for another life in a robotic body.

But he hated this.

He hated a life without you, a life without your beloved girl.

His planet looked newer now, there were still traces of the tragedy but the people who managed to survive were now getting onto their feet to start anew.

As his others went to gather intel and try to see if there's anything they could help with, his feet unconsciously brought him to what was once your home.

It was weathered and burned down by whatever landed on it, he went inside and looked for something, just anything for aeon's sake.

There, he found a picture that stood mighty amidst the tragedy. A family picture of you and your daughter, you all looked so happy.

He laughed at the memory of that picture, you were all trying to have a decent photoshoot but then your daughter decided to lick your cheek and then went to bite her father's hand. She was a wild child, a wild child he dreamt of seeing to grow up.

"Boothill..." Acheron came in, just handing over some worn cloth to him.

When he received it, she just left.

He was a bit confused but decided to study the cloth, there was a small tag— the same tag on the cloth that he found his little girl in. Inside the cloth was a hairpin, the same hairpin he gifted you on your first wedding anniversary.

He didn't know how, but he felt something inside him shatter.

His two girls. Gone just like that.

He began to break down like before, holding the two pieces that were all left of the two of you close to where his heart once was.

Every night, those bitter sweet memories haunted him in the nights where he sought for peace.

The way he can never seem to forget how you looked at him with such love and... your daughter's very last words to him that echoes throughout his head.

He missed you so dang much, if he could bring back time he'd do so but there was not much he could do other than to respect and spread your memory.

He missed being your husband, he missed being a dad to your beautiful girl.

A/N: Do not ask me how the cloth or the hairpin survived a double homicide (impact by meteor bomb and the explosion of the bomb) because I am not a carcass expert, I just like to add more angst.

(eyes wet and heavy from crying to Tiktoks of Boothil and his daughter. Fuck the IPC)

[xvysarene]

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕋𝕒𝕡𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕪 𝕠𝕗 𝕋𝕚𝕞𝕖

Pairing: Xavier x Fem!Reader Prompt: “No, you can't stay here.” Words: ~1.1k Genre: Angst, No Comfort Notice: Some spoiler of Xavier's Myth, Shooting Stars, although not entirely aligned

[ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST]

He staggered back, clearly surprised by how your muttered words reverberated loudly in the otherwise dimly lit room. Cerulean orbs searched for yours skilfully, eyes bright as they were when tracking Wanderers in the darkest of nights.

“What did you say?” A hint of disbelief was palpable in Xavier's voice.

You stepped away from the shadow, hands trembling as you struggled to steady them. Despite anticipating this moment, when confronted with reality, you found yourself questioning whether you could truly accept your sacrifice without harboring any regrets.

“I said, no, you can't stay here.”

Revelation dawned on him. Despite Xavier’s frequent drowsiness, he remained inherently sharp. It was one of the attributes that had made him a highly respected hunter.

“How long have you known?”

“Enough time to understand the over-complicated truth.”

Irritation briefly flickered in his eyes. He looked at the thinning veil behind him, clearly cursing the other party that stepped through it earlier. “Jeremiah told you.”

“I was the one who convinced Jeremiah to tell me everything. You shouldn’t kick his ass when you see him again.”

Xavier couldn’t help but chuckle bitterly at that. Jeremiah, though physically not imposing, could defeat anyone on mind games. That’s why he brought him along on the mission as he needed a logical partner.

He couldn’t comprehend why Jeremiah had agreed to divulge the secrets they swore to keep between themselves—especially to the one person he had hoped would never uncover the truth.

“Besides, you’re not as secretive as you thought, Xav.” You gave him a small, sad smile. “I guess that's what makes us human, right? Despite not being a normal one, having an aether core-fused heart, or having lived for a hundred years, we still can’t stop ourselves from showing our deepest desires during moments of vulnerability. I used to believe that she was your unforgettable first love or perhaps an ex who taught you a crucial life lesson. However, that’s just me shying away from the undeniable.”

As much as you had steeled yourself for this moment, your vision began to blur, and Xavier was fast to engulf you in his hug. You couldn’t help but wrap your arms around his lithe but muscular figure, feeling his warmth and further breaking your heart.

He buried his face in your hair, taking a deep breath to blanket himself in your scent like he always did.

“That’s not true,” his voice came out shakier than he intended.

“But it is, Xavier. You don’t know how many times you called out to her in your sleep. Or sometimes when you look at me, I can tell that you don't truly see me for who I am in this current existence. You can’t deny this, because in doing so, you’re also hurting her…me.”

You had to force your head up to fully face your light. Xavier wouldn’t let you step away from him.

Gently cupping his cheeks, you urged him to focus on your next words. “Face it, Xav. Your queen and I… our resemblances are solely physical. We’re two entirely different persons, made up of distinct personalities. If she was the reason why you were in this timeline in the first place, you cling to the hope of going back to her one day, don’t you? You wouldn’t abandon her eternity, right?”

His hug tightened. “I’m sorry,” he said after some time, head bowed in shame. “I’m sorry, Y/N. Truly, deeply sorry for making you feel less than your worth.”

Despite his painful acknowledgment, you found yourself relaxing, accepting your fate. Xavier's thumbs gently wiped away the tears that had escaped from your eyes.

“But you’re going to be here all alone,” his voice cracked, almond eyes cloudy. “I can’t go back and live peacefully knowing that.”

“If what Jeremiah told me is the truth, I have left you more than once. It’s your time to experience having someone be there when you’re back. This is the time to redeem myself, even when the timeline has gone haywire.”

Xavier shook his head furiously. “We won’t know if the alternative aether core would work. If I go back and learn that I will lose you again and Philos, I would rather stay here with you in the past.”

“You know it will work, that’s why you were so insistent on sending Jeremiah back alone with it, and selfishly waiting at the other end just to make sure it disappears, an indicator that Philos has accepted the aether-core. You know how much Jeremiah wants to go back there, and for everything he has done for you, you believed it was your turn to help him. I can’t take you away from her; it’s not right. It’s not my time to have you.”

“What difference does it make when I’m also willingly leaving you here? You understand that once I step through that veil, we’ll never meet each other again in this timeline.”

As if aware of its existence, the veil dimmed. You eyed it wearily, realizing that the swirling vortex of electric blue and silver had turned almost transparent.

“Xavier,” you sighed when he cupped your hand, reveling at the contact, “we both know that my time in this realm will end, I can’t be immortal here. I would rather face the certainty of our eternal bond in another dimension than linger in the fleeting confines of this world.”

You placed your fingers against his lips, silencing his upcoming argument. “You do realize that if you abandoned me in the future, I would despise you, don't you?" you made a playful comment to lighten the mood, but he was miserable. Filled with guilt and disappointment that he couldn’t control the situation.

You guided his head down to meet your lips halfway. As both of your lips touched in a bittersweet embrace, a silent farewell woven into each tender touch. The palm pressed against his heart felt its rapid beats.

“Goodbye, my light. Be happy,” you whispered those words to his lips.

Xavier should have known that whenever you were around, his caution melted away. That was his greatest weakness. He registered the force that caught him entirely off guard a second too late.

Xavier reached out his hand, losing momentum. “Y/N! Wait—!” he called out, voice tinged with urgency.

As his body was hurled into the closing veil, it snapped shut, swallowing his unfinished words. Sobs wracked your body, each wave of emotion sent your body crashing to the wooden floor.

Moonlight peeking through the windows cast its glow upon the intricate gold of the gigantic frame before you.

Where the veil had shimmered moments before, there was now only emptiness, revealing a cold cement wall that stood as a cruel reminder of the end of a chapter you could never revisit.

While seemingly nearly empty every night, a profound silence enveloped Philo Flower Store differently. Vibrant blooms began to wilt, their once lively hues fading into desolation, while the lush vines that once cascaded down nearby buildings now curled and browned.

[charliehoennam]

aftermath.

A/N: nobody asked for this, but all I've seen is Will smut (which I totally love, don't get me wrong) but I need some vulnerable Will

Pairing: Will Miller x f!reader

Warnings: grief, mourning, sad!will, mentions of death, mentions of Will's military past and Tom's funeral

One of the things you've always admired about Will is his strength. He was always the one to put on a brave face and push on. The captain in him had the duty of moving forward and completing whatever mission was at hand, whether it was getting his team to the landing zone or grocery shopping day at home.

It was that very same strength he possessed that got him through the darkest times in his life.

Losing his war veteran grandfather, losing his comrades in combat or to the haunting PTSD that they tried to chase away with substance abuse.

Before you came into his life, before he realized that he was lost in the same fog of that purgatory of PTSD, shutting his emotions out is the only thing he knew. After all that time, he came to believe it was easier than having to deal with them.

It just wasn't a priority; a moment of tears he refused to share with anyone anywhere other than sat naked and alone on the shower floor.

Tom wasn't the first friend he'd lost, but it doesn't mean it made losing him any easier.

It was easy for him to plaster a smile and bury his grief deep down until he felt it was time to unbury it and mourn.

Getting to that point of self-awareness was a victory in itself.

It took so much patience and love and pain, not only on his behalf but yours as well, to help him to understand what he was really struggling with.

He hadn't realized it had gotten so uncontrollable until the incident at Publix - the grand revelation of the weapon he could be, once shred of his humanity, provided the cathartic acceptance of the fact that he needed help.

Upon federal investigation, the story they told was that Tom had been shot and killed in a tragic mugging incident on their consultation trip. Just a boys' night out gone bad.

It wasn't too hard to believe, given they were 5 foreigners in a country that wasn't theirs. The heat from the Feds didn't last long. Thanks to Santiago's few but faithful contacts, that investment was quickly brought to an end.

It's barely 6 a.m. and you're stood in the kitchen making coffee, still processing how this all happened.

Your black dress is simple but elegant and modest against your body. Despite the itchy fabric, you can feel the early morning chill soaking through.

The dripping of the coffee maker lures you into a whirlwind of thoughts. You watch the droplets of dew form on the kitchen window against the cloudy sky which threatens to rain.

You start to second guess the toast when it pops up in the toaster. You're not the slightest bit hungry and you're positive Will won't be either, but you have to try.

He hasn't eaten right in the past couple days. You didn't say anything, but you've noticed the few bites he'd given his food and the way he'd pick at it.

He should've been ready and downstairs by now, so you decide to go up and check on him.

Moving forward is hard for most people, but for Will, it's what keep the pain at bay. The problem is when he stops.

Like a tornado, he's left with the screaming silence and the damage it left in it's wake.

Now that he's home, the mission of bringing Tom home is complete, the hard truth that his friend and mentor is gone has begun to sink in.

You gently knock on the door as you reach your shared bedroom.

"Honey, do you want any help?"

"I'm good, sweetheart. I'll be right out."

You can hear him sniffle despite his attempt to sound as normal as possible. Unconvinced, you turn the knob and open the door.

He's sat on the edge of the bed wearing a simple black suit as he looks back over his shoulder at you with a Marine coin in hand, a gift from Tom when Will confessed about his therapy sessions.

You aren't too surprised to see he changed out of the formal military blue suit he had out on earlier.

The ribbons, the medals, the badges... He couldn't put them on without feeling the crushing and staining weight of guilt.

"Lat minute outfit change?"

The corner of your lips curl in an attempt to smile, hoping to cheer him up with a bit of tease.

"I was gonna wear my dress blues, but..." he trails off for a moment to swallow hard. "Just didn't feel right."

Without a word, you quietly walk over and sit beside him. You're not sure what he needs right now, but you don't want him to feel alone.

"Black is more flattering if you ask me," you speak up.

His beard twitches as he attempts to smile. He knows you just want to help him feel better. Yet all he can do is stare down at the gold coin.

"Five times... Five times. Five close calls. And he survived them all. He didn't deserve to go out like that. He just wanted to help his family."

You fight back tears as you listen to him with an arm wrapped his back as you press your cheek to his shoulder.

"I told Santi to get him in. I said I'd go if Tom was in. Tom didn't even want to go in the first place. He didn't-"

There's a crack in his voice which he catches it in his throat to compose himself. He sniffles letting a tear cascade down his cheek only to wipe it away quickly, hoping you hadn't seen it.

"This isn't on you, Will."

He nods although you both know deep inside that he won't stop blaming himself.

"When you told me you were a marine, I knew the risks that came with that, Will. Every knock on the door had my heart racing. But I decided to stay with you because I love you. There wasn't a person on earth or a God in the sky that was gonna tell me otherwise. I knew the risks and I took 'em anyways because not having you would've hurt more... I don't understand how fate works other than we all end up the same. What I do know is that all we can do is love our close ones and cherish the good memories you have of them."

With a tearful and silent nod, he lowers his head and rests it against your chest. His arms lock around your waist as he surrenders to the tears in your embrace.

The tears quietly trickle down your cheeks as you listen to him finally breaking down.

With your lips pressed against his golden hair, you hold him in your arms and stroke the hair on the back of his neck to soothe him for as long as he needs.

All you can do is hold him through it and he couldn't be more thankful to have you in such a vulnerable moment after having faced them on his own for so many years.

Just the feeling of not being alone was overwhelming enough, but to have you holding him and reminding him of the things that are easy to ignore in grief give him hope.

Although he feels he's coming apart, he knows that he'll have the strength he's always had.

It's different now. It's not the strength to bury and forget; it's the strength to heal.

With a sigh of relief after a long, vulnerable moment, he pulls away from you and nods, mentally assuring himself that he's alright.

Upon arriving at the church, you're greeted by Molly so you offer your deepest condolences due to the circumstances. Just as Will, you find that the guys have all opted to wear normal black suits instead of the formal military uniform and you wonder if it's for the same reason.

"Sorry for that," he sniffles wiping his eyes as he tries to regain his composure, swallowing hard with guilt. "We should get going... I don't wanna be late."

You remind him that there is no need to apologize and that he can take the time to splash some water on his face to help him recollect before leaving.

Frankie doesn't say a word other than to Molly and the girls, apologizing for their loss. Throughout the priest's religious ceremony of easing words, Benny's apathetic eyes are glued to Tom's casket set in front of the church between his military portrait and a beautiful arrangement of white flowers. During Will's heartfelt eulogy, Santiago keeps his head lowered as the guilt consumes him.

The grift and sadness during the wake only follow and weigh heavier during the long walk to the gravesite, lingering among the guests of the funeral like a dark cloud. It's only reflected in depths by the light rain pitter-pattering all around.

The military traditions at the funeral leave a bitter tinge of irony in the boys as they watch Tom's casket lowering into the ground.

Tess's happy big doey eyes are now swollen and red as she cries under her mother's arm, hugging the folded flag as if it were her dad, while Molly holds her other and youngest daughter under the other arm.

Looking over at Will, you see that he's trying his hardest to keep his strong facade as well as the boys.

You slide your hand into his and whisper to remind him he's not alone and doesn't have to feel alone.

With a gentle squeeze to your hand, he nods.

"You with me?"

"I'm with you."

You and Will - as well as the guys and Tom's family - are the last to leave, reminding Molly that you're more than willing to help with anything.

Will, however, lingers a moment to speak to her private and tells her about the fund. You can tell from her reaction, she's genuinely surprised and thankful, relieved to know that she'll be able to pay for the funeral.

Having called your boss the previous day to let them know you wouldn't be going to work due to the funeral, you take the rest of the day off to recover from the overwhelming day after the funeral.

The drive home is quiet save for the rain against the car and the windshield, echoing into the vehicle which you insisted on driving to give Will some mental ease. He didn't put up a fight. He was quite relieved you'd offered.

In spite of being eager to understand how he's doing, you refuse to burden him with constant questions and decide to respect his mourning process. So, you keep a hand on his thigh to remind you're in this together.

He doesn't mind it at all. In fact, he is grateful for your respect and your thoughtfulness. His hand rests over yours and doesn't leave until you have to pull your hand back to turn the steering wheel, but it finds it's way back onto his leg, warm fully welcomed by his engulfing hand.

As you're undressing in your room, Will's hand catches yours while you're unzipping your dress.

"Thanks... I don't know about you, but I'd say this weather is perfect cuddling weather," you share letting the dress hang loosely off your shoulders.

Will smiles shyly as if you'd read his mind and locks his arms around your waist.

"I couldn't agree more."

[noforkingclue]

Hey there! I’m back again with another request (only if you want to write it though!)

I was looking at the prompts you reblogged and thought that this one: "i know what having a crush feels like and this is nothing close..." "have you considered that it's because this is more than just a crush?" "stop talking." might be one that could work for either Tommy Shelby or Carmy from The Bear — whichever you feel it fits better with!!

I look forward to seeing who you choose! Thanks so much in advance if you choose to write it! 🥰

Of course I want to write this!!! I went with Carmy for this because the prompt gave me a chance to torture him slightly...

I hope you like the fic :)

Title: Misunderstandings

Prompt list: list

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @byebyebreezywrites, @spngingerbread21, @layazul, @lov3vivian, @simonsbluee

“Thanks Syd,” you said as you shrugged on your coat, “I really appreciate this. I owe you one big time.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Syd said rolling her eyes but you could see the smile on your face, “you do owe me one.”

“Oi,” you paused just as you were about to leave, “where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

You looked over your shoulder and grinned at Richie. He gave you an unimpressed loo and tossed you a cloth.

“You going to fucking help us clear up or not?” he asked

“Can’t tonight.”

“I thought we’re a fucking team now?”

“Syd let me leave early as long as I come in early another day.”

You tossed the cloth back at him and Richie caught it onehanded.

“And also when did you actually help with closing?”

“I’m always here.” Richie said

“Sitting down and criticising our work isn’t ‘helping’. Now I’ve really got to be going.”

A chorus of goodbyes came from the others. You briefly made eye contact with Carmy and gave him a small smile. He quickly looked away and disappeared into the back. You felt a pang of sadness course through you. However, you didn’t have time to dwell on it. You were going to be late if you didn’t leave.

“So,” Richie turned to Syd after you had gone, “why the fuck was she allowed to leave early?”

“She didn’t say. Although it could be a date.”

A crash from the kitchen made everyone look over. Carmy stumbled out, face red when he realised that everyone was staring at him. The smirk of Richie’s face seemed to widen at the revelation of why Carmy had been hiding.

“A date,” Richie said, “well she kept that fucking quiet. Doesn’t she trust us?”

“Maybe it’s because it’s none of our fucking business.” Carmy said

“I thought you’d be interested in this, cousin.”

“Why the fuck would you think that?”

“With your massive fucking crush on her? Thought you’d want to know who your competition is.”

“I don’t have a fucking crush on her.”

Richie let out a snort of disbelief and Syd raised her eyebrows. A ripple of laughter rose from the others at Carmy’s denial.

“Nah,” Richie shook his head, “we can all fucking see it.”

“I know what having a crush feels like,” Carmy snapped, “and this is nothing close.”

“Have you considered that it’s because this is more than just a crush?” said Marcus

Carmy’s attention snapped over to Marcus who shrugged in acknowledgement.

“Shut up.” Carmy said but the words came out slightly choked

Immediately the rest of the staff burst out laughing. Richie tossed the cleaning cloth of Carmy and said,

“Then why the fuck don’t you go after her?”

“You think you’re in place to give him relationship advice?” said Tina

“And why the fuck can’t I?”

“She’s going on a date,” said Marcus, “You can’t do that when she’s about to see someone else.”

“She should’ve taken him here,” said Richie, “then you could see what you’re dealing with, cousin.”

“Why the fuck would she bring a date to work? That would be a shit date.” said Syd, “See, this is why we shouldn’t listen to you when it comes to these things.”

“Shut the fuck up!”

Carmy leant against the wall and ran a hand over his face as his staff dissolved into arguing. Was his feelings for you really that obvious? Clearly he hadn’t been doing as good of a job of hiding them as he originally thought.

“Besides, we don’t even know if she’s going on a date.” Syd’s voice echoed above the noise

“Wait, who’s going on a date and why didn’t anyone let me know about the gossip?”

Silence fell and everyone glanced towards the door. Carmy’s felt the blush slowly creep up his neck as the two of you locked gazes.

“Turns out my sister isn’t feeling well so we had to cancel our plans,” you said, “so I came back to pull my weight! So, who’s going to tell me what’s been going on?”

[soupandsimple]

Just The Three Of Us (with James Potter)

[ you and James consoling your little boy after Harry leaves for Hogwarts ]

* fluff!

** warnings? pregnant reader ; Hogwarts exists but other than that the story is non-magic

This was requested: see the ask here

…………..

“Love. Over here,” you heard James call you from across the hallway.

Harry had headed off to Hogwarts that morning and although not biologically yours, you felt every bit of pain any mother felt at being separated from their first born child. But even with your six month pregnancy hormones it had become obvious after getting home from dropping off Harry at the station, that you were not who was being affected the most by the departure of the 11 year old.

As James closed the door behind him upon arriving at the house, you excitedly asked your six year old son Maximus what he felt like doing for the rest of the day. Equal in tone, James threw in some fun options for Max to pick from but instead of getting a reply from the little boy, his lip quivered and he immediately turned and sped off up the stairs.

“Was it something I said?” James wondered out loud to you.

“Honey,” you said, failing to smile with a shake of your head, “c’mon let’s go talk to him.”

Making your way up, you let James rush up ahead while you took your time going up behind him. Your pregnancy wasn’t at the point of needing help walking up the stairs but it was starting to slow you down some.

“He’s not in his room” James announced once you finally reached the top.

“Check Harry’s room, I’ll check ours” you instructed.

It wasn’t until after you looked under your bed, the closet and your bedroom bathroom that James called you over from across the hall. Instantly, you beelined to the sound of his voice coming from Harry and Max’s shared bathroom. That bathroom connected the boys bedrooms but also had a hallway door which is where you entered from.

When you walked in, James signaled with his head over to the little boy huddled by the hamper. He had his face covered with his little hands and although silent, you could tell he was steadily crying. You wanted to crouch down to his level but of course that wasn’t possible right then with your belly so you made do with softly speaking to him from above.

“Maxie, what’s wrong baby?”

Max didn’t answer.

James then squatted down and affectionately rubbed one of his small knees.

“Buddy, c’mon tell us what’s the matter. I bet we can help.”

“You can’t help,” Max spoke, hands muffling his voice.

“Well we don’t know that for sure unless you tell us what’s wrong first,” James replied.

Max went silent for some seconds then removed the shield he had created from his face. Wiping at his eyes, he then looked down at his damp fingers.

“I didn’t want Harry to go.”

You looked at James and he to you; both with sympathetic expressions. This revelation was a bit of a surprise seeing as how days prior, Max had been all smiles helping Harry pack his things and had been all too pleased stuffing himself full of cupcakes and cookies at Harry’s going away dinner. To think he felt otherwise didn’t cross either of your minds then or now.

“Honey, why didn’t you say something sooner?” you asked him.

Max shrugged his shoulders and wiped at his eyes again.

“Has this been bothering you for a while now?” James asked, trying to remain composed. Remain composed because seeing his children or you hurting was something he had never been able to bear easily.

“No, but when I saw him leave on the train today it made me know he was going to be gone now.”

James and you both felt a huge wave of relief wash over yourselves because although Max was sad right now, knowing he had only just started feeling this sadness today and had not been silently suffering alone with it the past few days was of most alleviation.

“Didn’t hit you he’d really be leaving until then huh?” James gathered from Max’s confession.

Max nodded up at his dad then looked down to the floor.

James didn’t even have to look at your face to know that you wanted to hold your little boy so he stood up, took your hand in his and aided you in sitting yourself down on the floor. You winced at the ache you felt in your back upon lowering yourself to the hard surface, then slowly criss crossed your legs as James squatted down again to his previous position.

“Maxie, I’m sorry you feel this way” you said, taking one of his little hands in yours. He looked up at you and you stretched your other hand out, creating open arms to invite him to come sit on your lap.

Without a hint of hesitancy, he stood up and did just that…ever so cautious of course, just like James had told him to be with you ever since your belly had begun to grow.

You kissed his little head and wiped at his eyes to get some of the drying tears off best you could.

“We’re all going to miss Harry sweet boy, but it’ll be okay. I know it’s going to feel different without him here but we still have each other and it’s not like we’re losing him forever. He’ll be back for Christmas pretty soon and in the meantime, we’re going to write to him so much to keep up with all he’s doing at school and to tell him all about what’s going on here at home.”

“I can write now some too, remember...” Max quietly added.

“Of course we remember,” James spoke, ruffling his son’s hair. “I think it’d be a good idea to go out and let you pick out a stationery set for your own letters to Harry, hm? How does that sound?”

Max’s eyes twinkled with excitement but his smile was still a weak one. Seeing that, you pressed a quick kiss to the side of his head and tenderly squeezed him further into you momentarily.

“But we’ll sit here with you until you feel you’re ready, okay? There’s no rush.”

“She’s right, we’ll sit here until needed,” James repeated, sitting his bum all the way to the ground then criss crossing his legs like you had. “This is actually a pretty cozy spot and hey, if we need to use the toilet at least it’s right here.”

Max laughed as James patted the closed toilet seat and after a few seconds, voiced a concern of his.

“Will my baby sister be here soon? Because I really want someone to play with while Harry is gone.”

“Well she won’t be here for another couple of months..” you frowned, rubbing at your belly. “But we’ll be more than happy to play with you in the meantime,” you kindly assured.

“That’s right. But I mean it is going to take your sister some time to grow and be able to play with you anyhow so I don’t know…maybe we can also look into getting a dog?” James said, eager eyes shifting over to the six year old.

“Yes!”

“James!”

James chuckled at Max and your distinct reactions to his suggestion and raised his hands up in defeat in your direction.

“Okay, okay we’ll think on the dog…” he said to you but with a wink shot over to Max.

Max smiled big, stood up and got behind you and draped himself on your shoulders. “Mum, let’s go buy my stationery now! I need to hurry up and write to Harry about the dog we’re getting!”

“Uh-uh-uh… maybe getting a dog” James corrected Max before you could shoot him a stare of doom.

“Okayyy maybeeee .. but let’s go buy my stationery anyways! I wanna tell him some other stuff too!” Max urged, running out the bathroom presumably straight to the car.

James smiled to himself then stood up and once again stretched out his hand to help get you up from your spot on the floor.

“You just really had to go and bring up a dog did you now? A dog won’t replace Harry y’know,” you teasingly scolded as you walked down to the front door.

James pouted as he walked behind you. “I know, I know but I am going to miss all the noise he and Max made together. It’s going to be so quiet around here these days.”

“James Potter, you’re going to be begging for a quiet house once this little girl of ours shows up” you laughed as you reached the bottom of the stairs.

You were then able to tell this was something James really wanted for Max though, because instead of reacting to your jokey comment, his expression remained contemplative.

“Baby,” you began softly, “look I know you mean well and want to fix the way Max feels right now and believe me, I do too, but let’s give it a little time and spend a while with just him for a bit… this period in life of just us and him is only going to come once. Can we do that, give it some time? Afterwards I promise we’ll talk dog ...yeah?” you asked, reaching up to push back some of his front hair with one hand and caressing one of his cheeks ever so lightly with the other.

James exhaled and relaxed in your touch. “You’re right. You’re always right” he admitted with lovesick eyes and a kiss to your lips. “Don’t know what I’d do without you love.”

“Probably get a dog anytime you or someone you loved was upset…” you taunted.

He chuckled at that and gave you another kiss. “The dog can wait a bit, now let’s go start spending time with just our boy.” <3

[brofightiscancelled]

(taking a really long drag off a cigarette) i know the joke is that osomatsu at 18 is the exact same as osomatsu current but didnt he seem angrier to you. just in general. i cannot imagine how teenage angst would hit you if you were also a sextuplet

like he was probably as carefree and stupid as usual with literally everyone else to be fair. but w his brothers it's like ough. i wonder if the "getting sick of the sextuplet schtick" hit him the hardest in HS. he's the only one who isnt visibly annoyed in the sleeping scene but he's also the one saying "why are there six of us?"

i thibk osomatsu has genuine qualms w being a sextuplet. we see him complain abt it to chibita in episode 2. i dont think they were totally unfounded or made up on the spot, that's stuff he was holding deep in his core

and i think esp in an environment like high school, and w being such an egotistical brat, oso wouldve started resenting not having his own identity just like the others. i imagine he wouldve channeled his clingy brattiness into being a nuisance to all of his peers. it's just that now, in adulthood, he literally doesnt have anyone else in his life, so his brattiness has fallen back onto his brothers.

ironic to how he is now, i think the "why are you asking me? that's your problem" response to totty comes from resenting the sextuplet status quo they'd established as kids of them expecting him to know what to do and expecting to follow his lead and having eldest brother expectations of him forever and ever. why do you assume we're going to be together forever? don't you know i'm going to make it out on my own in the real world?

it's interesting it was between totty and oso cuz it seemed like hs totty wanted things to stay the way they were the most. regressing and acting even more kid like. so to me oso saying that to totty specifically is a like "why are you expecting things to stay the way they were forever?" kind of thing

i feel like (inhaling more smoke) it's kind of like the fight at their grad ceremony kind of unlocked those revelations for them. we've just had the worst fight of our lives but at the end of the day we all have to take the same route home to all sleep in the same futon. we're going to be brothers no matter what. for better or for worse we're shackled sextuplets forever and ever.

Everything just kinda clicks because even though he hates it, they're stuck together. And he doesn't have any idea on what he's gonna do, he knows Totty doesn't know what to do, and it's probably easy for him to guess that the rest of them don't know what to do either. They're stuck together and none of them have a plan for the future besides that. i think oso was coasting by on this idea that "everything would work out somehow" (very oso-like) and this is the wakeup call that no, if left unattended, this is how your problems will fester

i also really often think about 18oso's reaction to finding out they're neets in the future. yes this is funny yes this is deeply sad but i also remember being really taken aback by it when i first saw it

like obviously after you think about it for 1.5 seconds like, yes, obviously oso didn't realize at age 18 that he was going to be a jobless bum well into his 20s. being a jobless bum wasn't what he had envisioned for his life. but juxtaposed with how carefree current osomatsu is with his life it really is funny to realize like oh, yeah, there was a point in time, most of their life really, where they thought they'd be something when they were adults

i think oso had always wanted his own identity like any other teen, but now that the only people left in his life as an adult are his brothers he's just clinging to his identity as niichan. but maybe this is the smoke inhalation talking

i think if oso had any other friends than his twins he would not be this annoying. but he doesn't