#his voice on this track also . the passion the love the pain !!!!!!!!!!!!

[youwerelikeanangel]

thanks andrew i’ll never get over this song!

[imthebadguyyy]

Every Thing Has Changed

pairing : carlos sainz x reader

fandom : f1

synopsis : healing from a relationship in which you never felt loved is made easier when your a certain ferrari drive feels like home and changes your perception on love.

warnings : just some making out, mentions of a past abusive relationship, crying, angst, nightmare

a/n : just a short blurb inspired by photograph by Ed Sheeran and everything has changed by Taylor Swift💕

relationships, once resembling the sweet symphony of love can turn to play a dissonant melody, much like a wilting rose, its vibrant petals fading to a melancholic shade of gray. the once-gentle winds of understanding transformed into bitter gales of miscommunication, tearing at the fragile bonds once woven. love, once a warm and comforting embrace, can feel like a jagged, icy terrain, each step a painful reminder of the shards of trust shattered.

thats what your relationship with love had been, stuck a in a relationship with a man who did not appreciate you and found himself raising his hand at you in frustration or tear into your soul with ice cold words that threatened to shatter your soul.

it had left you vulnerable and untrusting, unwilling to open up to a relationship ever again.

until a certain ferrari driver came along.

carlos sainz.

maybe it was the way he had looked at you across the ramp at the Milan fashion show ferrari had made him attend, surrounded by other celebrities he was uncomfortable around.

your label had made you attend to show your fans you were fine post the 'termination' of your old relationship.

your eyes had met his dark brown ones, a gentle sparkle in them, and he found his lingering on yours, taking in the sight of you in all your gorgeousness across the room.

he had come up to you after, shook your hand and introduced himself.

the thick accent had you blushing, and the sight of this greek god like man dressed in a black tuxedo with the most perfectly mussed up hair had your heart doing a little tango in your chest.

he was charming and sweet, offering you champagne at the after party and telling you about his career and passion for formula 1. he had also admitted to being a fan of your music, to which you had giggled, and he had smiled.

as the party wore on, you stuck to him, finding him to be the only sincere person in the ballroom full of fake smiles, the only person who brought genuine smiles and laughter to you.

within a few hours it felt like chatting to an old friend.

you ended the night with his phone number logged in your phone, and yours in his, and a mutual follow on both your ends on Instagram.

two days later, he sent you a video of himself at the track, with charles singing Adele in the background,with the caption 'wish i could have your voice serenading me before I step into the car instead of his'

you found yourself smiling, shaking your head at his antics, but also blushing at his lopsided smile.

but something in your brain made you stop, hesitate to reply.

the scars from the past were still fresh, and the memory of heartache loomed large. the prospect of opening your heart once more, or even flirting, felt like stepping onto shaky ground.

you found yourself replying with a simple smile emoji and a promise to send him whatever new song you'd be working on soon.

days sped by, with little texts shared and likes dropped on each other's posts.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

your friends asked you persistently about the nature of your relationship with the spaniard, to which you said "he's just a friend I made recently"

when you came to barcelona to record your album, you dropped him a text, to which he asked you to a simple dinner at his favourite restaurant.

even though your heart hammered against your chest and your brain screamed no, you accepted, trying to ignore the slight alarm in your body.

and the dinner was perfect.

carlos was nothing short of a gentleman, pulling your chair out for you, complimenting the way you looked, and your music and taking genuine interest in what you had to say.

carlos found himself utterly infatuated with your beauty, inside and out, and he swore every time you giggled his heart fluttered like a butterfly.

he loved the nervous way you pushed your hair back behind your ears when you got shy, or the intense concentration as you picked your pasta, which was a butternut squash ravioli, which you told him, was your favourite.

he loved how you got so intense when telling a story, and how your hands moved animatedly as you told him a funny story about your night at the Grammy's.

he couldn't help but laugh as you told your story, and he couldn't help the slight flush to his cheeks when you said, "you look handsome tonight" with a sweet smile.

"thank you bella" he said, the nickname dripping off his lips like the sweetest honey, sending a homely warmth through your body.

you'd be lying if you said you weren't arrested to the handsome spaniard in front of you.

he had worn a turquoise blue shirt, the first few buttons undone, and pristine white pants that looked absolutely phenomenal on his gorgeously tanned skin, the Spanish sun clearly doing wonders for him.

he looked like an angel descended from the heavens, his hair falling imperfectly perfectly across his forehead, and his lips looked so delectably plump and pink that you couldn't help your eyes fluttering down to them multiple times throughout dinner.

you loved the way his accent laid heavy, as he talked to you about the atmosphere at monza. you loved the passion in his eyes and his voice as he spoke about how much he adored his job, and how deeply he cared about ferrari.

you loved the way his eyes furrowed in concentration, as he listened intently to the story you were telling him, and the sincerity in his dark eyes, the rich and velvety brown eyes radiating warmth.

you couldn't help the way your heart beat quickened, when he pressed a kiss to the back of your hand, when you walked into the restaurant.

neither of you could deny the unspoken electric connection that you shared, zinging through the both of you like a bolt of lightning.

when you got out from the restaurant, he offered to drive you back to your hotel, the red ferrari purred through the streets as you both listened to the soft enrique iglesias songs playing on loop on the radio.

you continued sharing stories, as you made your way though the streets of barcelona, and by the time you reached your hotel, you found yourself unwilling to say goodbye to the handsome man beside you.

"so...this is me" you smiled, and he chuckled.

"I'm aware" he smiled back, and you giggled, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek.

"thank you for tonight carlos. i really enjoyed myself" you told him sincerely, leaning over to squeeze his hands softly.

"you're welcome carino, I enjoyed myself too" he said, running a thumb over your knuckles.

for a moment, the urge to just grab him by his stupidly handsome face and kiss him zapped through your body, but fear stopped you.

you weren't ready for that.

you couldn't do that.

not all over again.

and yes while he had proved to be different, how could you know for sure that things wouldn't turn sour?

"i think I'll get going" you whispered, voice not strong enough to maintain its regular volume, and carlos nodded, a crease in his brow forming at the sudden tremble in your voice.

"sure, let me know if you'd like to hang out sometime later" he said, getting out to open the door for you.

you lingered in the dimly lit hallway for a second, not quite warning him to leave but not strong enough to tell him you liked him.

you fluttered between fear and intuition, before deciding on a middle ground : leaning up on tip toe to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

carlos found himself blushing, responding with yet another gentle. kiss to your hand, and then your forehead

"good night carino" he whispered.

"goodnight carlos" you smiled.

you watched him walk away, heart strumming against your chest.

oh, you were in for a hard time.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

carlos sighed as he looked at the list of media duties in front of him. he zoned out, sylvia's voice lulling him into a doze.

the soft ping of a text notification snapped him out of it, and he looked at is discreetly under the table.

y/n, carlos

you : thought of you when i saw this 🫶🏼

*one attachment*

looking at the message, carlos grinned.

carlos : haha. looks like I follow you wherever I go ;)

you : haha very funny carlos. how's imola going for you?

carlos : you've memorized my race schedule now? 😄

you : noo i just saw a post on Instagram

carlos : it's just media today which i hate so I'm just ready to go home already

you : i get that!! i don't like doing press either :(

carlos : yeah I'm in a meeting right now and I wish i was in my bed fast asleep

you : ....wait are you in a meeting RIGHT NOW?!?

carlos : yes

you : carlos 😭 why are you texting me then??

carlos : because I prefer it ;)

you : oh my gosh okay we'll talk later okay?

carlos : okay carino, have a good day

you : you too 💕

"carlos, can you please put your phone away?" sylvia's impatient voice broke the trance he was.

"yeah yeah" he mumbled a little grumpily, earning a short from charles and a nudge from his press officer.

but he didn't care. he'd prefer spending time with you over the press anyday.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

sighing, you scrolled through your camera roll, erasing any trace of your past relationship. it was gone. it wasn't a part of you anymore.

every deleted picture felt like a weight being lifted off your mind and your chest and tears filled your eyes.

the sheer relief that came with the alleviated pain had a gasp rising in your throat, coming out in a strangled choke.

before you knew it, you were sobbing, knees pulled up to your chest, tears running down your face, choked sobs leaving your throat, each one seemingly ripping your throat open.

you cried till your throat was raw and your body on the brink of exhaustion.

the sound of your phone ringing cut through, making you jump.

you watched as carlos' name flashed across the screen, and after taking a deep breath, you answered.

"hello?"

"buenos dias carino. como estas?" how are you he asked, his voice light and melodious, and you inhaled deeply, feeling the anxiety slowly leaving your body.

"I'm good carlos, what about you?" you replied, trying to keep your voice as steady as possible.

"all good carino. just missing you" he flirted, but you didn't miss the sincerity in his voice.

you felt your heartbeat increase in pace, a flush painting your cheeks.

"i miss you too.." you mumbled, embarrassment flooding you as you realized you really did miss him.

"then why don't I fly you out to Monza? its ferrari's home race and I'd love to see you in ferrari red" he said and you giggled.

"I'd love to carlos" you said, and you heard him laugh.

"okay then carino, I'll have the jet pick you up okay? does Thursday work for you? ill pick you up after media duties?" he said, and you awwed at his concern.

"i can just go to your hotel? you don't have to pick me up" you assured him, and after much convincing, he reluctantly agreed to have caco pick you up instead.

"just ask him if his name is carlos too" he had joked, smiling to himself when you let out a hearty laugh.

with promises to see each other soon, you hung up.

you took a deep breath, wiping away the salty tears, contrasting to the sweet smile on your face.

maybe, just maybe, you could watch love begin again.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Thursday rolled around, and you flew to Monza in carlos' jet, to be received by a man with a kind face and a bouquet of flowers waiting for you.

"you must be carlos?" you asked shyly, shaking his hand.

"yes, I'm carlos' cousin, but please call me caco" he had smiled, offering to take your backpack from you.

the two of you chatted on your way to the hotel, making jokes about all the carlos' in the Sainz family.

"how do you manage to keep them all distinct?' you had asked, and he had just laughed and said, "trust me, we don't"

you found yourself enjoying the company of the older man, who was as friendly as someone could be.

as you reached the hotel, you felt nerves spring in your belly, and you bit your lip anxiously.

caco noticed, and sent you a soft smile.

"you know, carlos doesn't usually invite people over. you must be special to him if he's called you to a race" and you tried your hardest to not warm up at his words, but the bright smile on your face said it all.

"come, let me show you to your room, it's next to carlos', and then we can wait in his room for him to come back he should be here soon" caco said, doing the needful with the reception staff.

with a sigh you sunk down into the plush cushions of the sofa in carlos' room after depositing all your baggage in your own room.

you and caco continued to talk for a bit, sharing stories and laughs till the door opened, and a pair of white sneakers made their way over to you.

"hola carino" carlos' voice rang through the room, and you turned on your heel, heart fluttering in your chest as you took in the sight of him, in his red and black ferrari shirt and apparently signature white pants.

neither of you noticed caco gently slip away, not wanting to intrude in the private moment.

"hello" you smiled, waving at him nervously.

in quick strides he made his way across the room, engulfing you in a big hug.

you inhaled the musky scent he wore, reminding you of dior sauvage, and focused on the feeling of his large, coarse palms gently rubbing your back.

"i missed you, y'know?" he mumbled, drawing away and gently caressing your cheek.

"i missed you too, so much' you replied, voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm happy you're here" he murmured, gently pushing a stray strand of hair behind your ears.

"I'm happy to be here, thank you so much for having me" you smiled at him.

"anytime, corazon" heart he flirted, and you flushed again.

the two of you spent some time chatting, before jet lag overtook you, and you ended up falling asleep with your head on his shoulder.

carlos gently pulled your legs up and out a pillow under your neck to prevent you from getting a crick as he laid you on the sofa, penning a small note when he realized that he had to run to meet fans in the hotel.

with an odd feeling of sadness, he tucked you in, leaving you, to head down.

he remained a little distracted, not quite able to focus when he truly just wanted to spend time with you.

he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so deeply infatuated with someone, the last time someone had flooded his mind 24\7

you were so utterly perfect in so many ways, sweet and kindhearted, headstrong and independent, warm and funny, friendly and open.

but still, he felt a reluctance to be vulnerable, the walls you had put up that you refused to let him penetrate. he was also aware that you even coming to had been a huge step, and he could slowly work towards findings out what exactly was upsetting you.

with new found determination, he made his way back to the room.

upstairs, you were still fast asleep, and as he walked in he noticed the agitation on your face, the beads of sweat dripping down your forehead and the whimpers leaving your lips.

he rushed over to you, fingers gently shaking your tense shoulders, heart breaking at the whimpers escaping your lips, little murmurs of “please don’t hurt me..” leaving your lips, making his heart shatter.

still in a haze, you frowned, watching as the dark shaped got closer and close to you, you tried to run, but you were frozen in place, a scream rising to your throat only to stick, mouth open without making a single sound. the dark figure got closer and closer, ominous giggles leaving their mouth as they approached you, faceless, but for an evil smirk on their lips.

the figure reached out and touched your face, cold and clammy, and you felt a chill run down your spine.

"im going to hurt you," the figure whispered. you tried to speak, but no words would come out. you were trapped, helpless.

the figure leaned in closer, and you could feel its hot breath on your neck. It reached out and touched your throat.

you closed your eyes and waiting for the impact.

but then, you heard a familiar voice, sounding almost dreamlike and distant, like a guardian angel descending from the heavens to refuse you.

"wake up, carino! it’s just a dream. I’m here, estas a salvo” you're safe Carlos’ voice broke through and you awoke with a gasp.

carlos took in the sight of the tears dripping down your cheek, and the pants leaving your mouth, and he swore he felt his heart shatter.

"stay away" you whispered, bringing your knees to your chest to shield yourself.

"wh-what?" he mumbled, surprised.

"i said stay away!! don't touch me" you shouted, voice quivering with fear.

the storm of emotion in carlos' eyes sent self pity surging through your heart.

"oh, cariño mío, nunca, nunca, nunca te haría daño, te lo prometo." oh my darling, i would never ever ever hurt you,i promise he whispered, but still, he took a step back. he did not want to cross any boundaries.

"don't lie to me" you whimpered, shoulders shaking and chest rising and falling rapidly. you were still dazed, not quite processing that it was carlos in front of you, not your ex, and that he was the last person to raise a hand on you.

"im not lying, mi duce" he said sincerely, gently reaching his hand out to you.

"no! thats what he said too" you sobbed out, knees giving out as you fell to your knees on the ground, face buried in your hands as you sobbed.

carlos decided that space wasn't the answer. with steps as light as a feather, he was beside you in an instant, gingerly reaching out to stroke your hair.

surprisingly, you didn't push him away, but you did flinch, and the sight made Carlos's heart break further.

"oh, oh, cariño mío... siento mucho, mucho que eso te haya sucedido..."oh, oh my darling, I'm so so sorry that ever happened to you, he whispered, gently rubbing your arm, the warmth of his hands helping the shivers taking over your body.

"I'm sorry" you sobbed, embarrassment, guilt and shame coursing through your veins.

"no, why are you sorry? you haven't done anything wrong" he stated firmly, gently letting you lean into him, sniffling into his shirt.

he didn't care about the mess on his shirt. he didn't care about the fact that he was late for a press meeting. all he cared about was making sure that your were okay.

"i shouldn't have been so stupid, so stupid that someone had to hit me to make me see sense" you continued, mind so drowsy and scared you didn't even know what you were saying.

"you're not stupid, amor, i promise youre not. i am so sorry that happened to you but please, mi dulce, don't ever demean yourself. eres más valiosa para mí que el sol, la luna y las estrellas, y juro que hay millones de personas que piensan lo mismo. no puedo deshacer lo que tu ex ha hecho, pero haré todo lo posible para tratarte mejor y hacerte sentir amada de nuevo, si me das una oportunidad, mi cariño. significas el mundo para mí y pasaré cada día de mi vida demostrándotelo si es necesario." he said,You are worth more to me than the sun moon and stars and i swear there are millions of people who think so too. I cannot undo what your ex has done, but I can try my damn hardest to treat you better and make you feel loved again, if you will give me a chance, my darling. You mean the world to me and I'll spend every day of my life proving that to you if i have to", gently lifting your chin so he could look into your red eyes.

"I'm not worth it carlos.. you deserve someone who isn't a mess, who isn't wrecked, who isn't a useless, used thing, like me.." you started but you were cut off by carlos pulling you into a tight hug.

inhaling deeply, you let yourself sink into his embrace, clutching the material of his shirt as if you were scared he would disappear into thin air.

"you are everything to me" he murmured, and you looked up at him, gaze flicking from his sincere eyes, the worry lines on his forehead to his perfectly plump lips.

and in that moment you made a decision.

"kiss me" you whispered, hand reaching out to stroke his stubble.

"there's nothing I want more, carino, but..are you sure? no quiero que te arrepientas de esto más tarde." i don't want you to regret this later he said, and you smiled.

"nunca he estado más seguro de nada más."I've never been more sure of anything else you replied, gently pulling him down to meet your lips.

you closed the space between the two of you, pressing your body against his as your hands found home on his face and waist, his in your cheek and hips

carlos sighed softly, against your mouth hands moving to wrap around you, resting on your back as he kisses you back, with unfiltered passion.

you never thought that actually someone could actually leave you winded with just a kiss, but here was a man, something out of a story book, taking your breath away with a kiss.

"I've wanted to do that for so long" carlos mumbled against your lips, as you slowly pulled away, trying to ignore the butterflies fluttering in your belly.

"i have too, but i was scared.." you started off, but carlos cut you off with a feather soft kiss to your forehead.

"you don't owe me any explanation, mi amor. thank you for trusting me" he whispered, and you smiled.

"just... promise me you won't hurt me?" you asked, vulnerability evident in every syllable.

carlos responded with a soft kiss to your knuckles, to your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, and then finally your lips.

"never."

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

that summer, carlos took you to mallorca to meet his family.

he had brought you along, introducing you to his father, his mother, his sisters and a few cousins who had come to spend the summer.

carlos sainz sr had welcomed you with open arms, despite your initial nervousness. reyes had enveloped you in a warm hug, expressing her excitement at finally meeting the woman her son couldn't stop raving about, making the both of you blush.

his sisters, blanca and ana, had both gushed over you, making very little effort to hide how much they loved your music and how excited they were that their brother was dating you.

you were grateful at how welcoming and sweet his family was, how they treated you like one of their own, taking you sightseeing and taking you to their favourite spots, treating you to lovely lunches with the family, with reyes making you your first ever homemade gazpacho that you fell in love with.

out of everyone, you found yourself gravitating to her the most, and spent as much time with her as you could, laughing at stories she told you about carlos.

one evening she took you and her daughters out for a spa day. carlos couldn't hide the happy smile that refused to leave his lips the whole day, heart full at how well you meshed with his family.

"you look lovely dear" reyes warm tone greeted you as you made your way to the car so you could go to lunch and then a spa. she was so kind to you, even though she only met you a few days ago, she welcomed you into her family with open arms. "are you enjoying yourself, mi hija?" the nickname made you flush, as you nodded, a shy smile on your lips "don’t be shy!" she said, gently squeezing your shoulder, eyes twinkling

"mallorca is really beautiful! i really like it here" you said, a genuine smile on your lips, and reyes nodded. "thats good because I get the feeling we'll have you over much more often now", blanca added from the back seat.

she winked at you which made the four of you laugh.

"well, i hope i can visit much more often" you said, smiling at the three sainz women in front of you.

"you will, i know for a fact my brother is head over heels for you with how he looks at you like you hung the stars sun sky and the entire cosmos up" ana said sagely, making blanca snort.

"don't expose him like that, he'll kill you if he hears you told her that" her older sister chided

"I'm not wrong! he doesn't bring anyone home unless he's serious about them!" ana said indignantly, and you felt your heart flutter

"my carlito is very shy, hija, and that's why we were so happy when he told us you were dating, and even more when he said he was bringing you home" reyes said to you, a nostalgic smile on her lips as she thought back to when all her children were babies.

"you're a lovely person, y/n. i knew it the moment you walked in the door, and I know you make carlos so happy. welcome to the family unofficially, mi hija" she said softly, to voices of agreement from ana and Blanca and you felt tears rise to your eyes.

overwhelmed with emotion, all you could do was squeeze their hands and say a soft "thank you"

later that night, as you and carlos for ready for bed, he came up to you, wrapping his arms around you, pressing soft kisses to your neck and shoulders, massaging your shoulders with lotion.

"what did you talk to my mother and sisters about mi dulce?" he asked, pressing a gentle kiss to your collarbone.

"thats a secret, amor" you smirked and he whined, burying his face in your neck.

"ana has been winking at me all evening and poking me in the side. what did you dooo" he whined like a child and you giggled.

"i can't tell you,but they were all so lovely" you said, climbing into bed, as carlos snuggled up to you.

"see? i told you they'd all love you. my dad told me today as well, he thinks you're a perfect match for me and he'd like to take you for a round of golf sometime" he said, running his fingers through your hair.

"I'd love that" you smiled, kissing his nose.

of course, it didn't stop there.

before you knew it, carlos' lips were on yours. you pushed him away with a giggle, knowing it wouldn't stop at one.

"please amor, just one more, I've barely seen you today" he pouted and you rolled your eyes at his antics.

“fine. just one. one more kiss and that’s—”

carlos' mouth pressed against yours in a desperate kiss, mumbling a quick ,"yes, hmm, yes," as he nudges the tip of his tongue against yours to open up, trying to get you a more passionate kiss.

you pull back with a gasp, hands against his chest, “no no no no no. you need to behave and i only said one and your entire family is here and this is more than one —" he cut you off mid way again, pressing a flurry of pecks your lips.

desperately trying to keep your thoughts straight, you begins to cave in as his teeth gently nibble at your bottom lip, pulling it away and his eyes watching as it snaps back in its place, his tongue meets yours again.

you whine, body relaxing slowly into his, hands resting on his chest and face, monetarily forgetting the fact that you were making out with him in his family home.

"ay dios mio!" caco's voice exclaims and you jump, pulling away from carlos.

"por favor, cierra la puerta si vas a involucrarte en estas actividades, hermano." he said backing out of the room.

"qué quieres, caco?" carlos yelled after him, grinning at the sight of you burying your face in the blanket, shouting out an apology to caco.

"just wanted to say good night, which I now know you'll have!" he shouted back and you gasped, pulling the sheets over your face.

you were sure ana in the next room must have heard it.

"carlos" you whine as he laughs, anas voice floating in from next door "please don't traumatise me!"

all of a sudden, he pins you down, fingers ticking your sides, relishing the sound of your laughter.

“im so in love with you, angel, te amo." he whispered.

"te amo carlos" you mumbled, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his lips.

everything had changed, thankfully for the better.

and you could not be happier.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n : might make it multi part or just leave it like this, please let me know which one you'd prefer!!

as always likes, reblogs comments, opinions etc are appreciated!! much love always 😘

TAGS

f1 : @theonly1outof-a-billion @rileynicol3 @ivegotparticulartaste @moon-enthusiast @superlegend216

everything: @roslastyles420 @hopefulinlove @bluesongbird

TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST SEND ME AN ASK OR A DM SPECIFYING WHICH FANDOM ♥️

[randxmthxughts]

Chosen by Eywa - New Beginnings - Chapter 5

← chapter 4 | chapter 6 →

contains: arranged marriage, mentions of war and grief, angst, one-sided enemies to lovers, slow burn

wc: 5.8k

chosen by eywa masterlist | general avatar masterlist

a/n: see? i promised two chapters within a week and i'm delivering!!! also the next chapter is going to be the finale and i'm so bummed out about it. i feel very connected to this story and planning it from the beginning had brought me lots of peace

For a while, Y/N remained frozen, watching from a distance as the Na’vi surrounded the motionless body of her former love. Neteyam, who felt sick to his stomach just from the mere sight of Kaye, anxiously observed Y/N, waiting for something to happen, though he wasn’t sure what exactly to expect. Any kind of reaction instilled a sense of dread within him; would she ever be able to move on from that? 

Jake had no time to recount the entire situation over the wired comms device. As the Olo’eyktan, he had to explain everything in a hurry to Neteyam, while also soaring through the territory in case anyone else defied the curfew and needed to be protected. But Jake’s voice gave it away - the worry, the guilt he had carried as the chief for such a pointless death. Kaye, who had lost his tracking device earlier, during the surveillance, and had been instructed to just abandon it, opted for sneaking after the curfew and searching for it. Joined by a friend, they landed within the area and continued their search on foot, when a single bullet suddenly found its mark beneath Kaye’s ribcage, tearing right through his left lung. The devilish human, a vile being who had no business lurking the land this late, and who had possessed neither the size nor the strength to bring down a Na’vi, somehow managed a victory. One that he’d boast about to his comrades later. By the time Kaye was hoisted onto the back of his friend's ikran and flown back to camp, it was already too late.

The surrounding Na'vi watched in horror as he drew his final breath, and then he was gone. It shattered Y/N. Her frozen composure suddenly moved, then a loud cry, as if she was in physical pain. A cry that had been suppressed for countless years, ingrained deep within her throat since the tragic day her parents were taken from her. Like an overwhelmingly big wave, desperation, remorse and guilt threatened her with loneliness she could no longer bear. 

The Na'vi pressed closer to Kaye, shielding him from her view, but she surged forward to close that distance. It was as if she believed she could somehow resurrect him, breathe life back into his still form. It was strange and peculiar — how could a woman, bound to another man, suddenly mourn so passionately for a stranger? 

Sobbing, she drew nearer, but hands, one after another, pushed her away from Kaye. Encountered with resistance and hushed pleas to calm down, Y/N only grew more desperate to reach him. Neteyam trailed closely behind her, but refrained from restraining her. Y/N was giving a piece of herself that she had kept closed off for years, as she crumbled before the entire clan. But he could only wait for her to reach for him when she was ready.

Yäyä’s cry was what pierced through the atmosphere then, bringing the crowd to a stillness. Having performed the sacred bond with Kaye and falling for him, his death felt like a nightmare. A nightmare she’d likely have after Kaye’s small but reckless rebellions, fueled by the desire to resist his parents' authority sometimes. As people stepped away, some not quick enough and pushed aside by her determined shoves, Yäyä pressed forward to make her way to her mate.

Through the haze, Y/N watched the unraveling scene and then it suddenly hit her like a thunderbolt. It should have been her, not Yäyä. To be bearing the weight of the loss, to forge a connection with Kaye, then ultimately release him back into the embrace of the Great Mother. Tears blurred Y/N's vision as she watched the poor girl kneel beside her beloved's lifeless body, hunching over him as if she was shielding him from the prying gazes of others.

Neteyam gulped down nervously, his hand reaching out to gently grasp Y/N's upper arm. His touch was delicate, so light that she barely registered it. Y/N turned her gaze towards him, her brows furrowing in a pitiful expression, and in that moment he thought he could hear his heart drop at the sight.

“Neteyam,” she whispered weakly, unsure of what exactly she was asking of him, but he understood anyway.

His arms opened instinctively, inviting her into an embrace, and the force with which her body collided with his threatened to knock him off balance. Her face pressed tightly against his chest, arms wrapped around his back, pressing on all of the wounds she was treating just a few moments ago, hurting him but he paid it no mind. She sobbed against him, and with every breath she took, he cradled her head gently, drawing her closer. Y/N’s words came in a blur, and he couldn’t understand what she was trying to tell him, but before he could even ask, Kiri appeared next to them, her hands resting on Y/N's back.

“Y/N, let’s get away from here, yeah?”

Kiri and Neteyam shared a knowing look, and he nodded in agreement. Slowly, he began to step back, gently guiding Y/N with him, never releasing his hold on her. Almost instinctively, Y/N's feet followed the movements of his body, as if they were entrained to his every step. 

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The remainder of the night passed by in a blur. Y/N had barely come to terms with the fact that the man she had once loved was now gone. No matter how much she regretted being with him, being his, no matter how much she hated him, nothing could have outweighed the immense pain she felt at his loss. Even though he had never truly been hers to begin with. The haunting image of Yäyä, broken and fragile, crumbling under the weight of grief, sent shivers down her spine.

Neteyam, who had brought Y/N back home with Kiri, now found himself alone with her. Kiri had promised to check on them later, as her assistance was required with the preparations for the upcoming funeral. Sitting on the ground, Y/N’s back leaned into his chest, the position that would have been awkward in any other circumstance, but now provided a sense of comfort. Y/N was no longer crying, and though Neteyam couldn’t see her face, he could guess that she had calmed down.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, turning her face to meet his gaze. He furrowed his brows in response, his eyes tracing the trails of dried tears on her cheeks.

"Why are you apologizing?"

"I must have caused a scene…" Y/N's voice hitched, her gaze shifting downward as she fidgeted in her seat, "I didn't mean to... to... I'm not his mate... I mean, I just... and right next to Yäyä... I had no right to..."

"The right to grieve?" Neteyam completed her thought, his frown deepening. "Y/N, you have every right to feel pain. You were in love with him."

"I know," she sniffled, "But I wasn't -" another sniffle interrupted her words, "I'm sorry if it causes you any trouble."

"Y/N, I don't care about any of that," he assured her, his voice gentle, soothing like cool water against weary muscles.

Y/N shook her head, still refusing to meet his gaze. Now that the situation had settled in and she reflected on her actions, she had realized that she took away from the secrecy of their relationship with Kaye. And along with it, she made a cut in Neteyam’s carefully crafted image. Made space for the clan to speculate.

"Look at me," he insisted, gently lifting her chin with a finger, "You have every right to grieve for someone you loved. Nothing else matters."

She nodded weakly, her hand wrapping around his wrist in silent gratitude. Neteyam's eyes roamed across her face, searching for something he couldn't quite articulate. He gulped.

“We are a team, remember? Whether we like it or not, you can rely on me.”

And so, Neteyam stayed by her side throughout the night. He dozed off from time to time, only to awaken and check if she was still peaceful in his embrace. Neteyam wondered if she was truly comfortable in that position. He tried shifting his weight every now and then, attempting to create more space for her, but she’d only grumble in dissatisfaction and cling tighter to his chest.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The loss of Kaye, this time both literal and physical, was more dull rather than acute. Days seemed to stretch on endlessly, each one feeling like a month, and it was only at nights when Y/N felt just a little like herself. Neteyam became her guardian, shielding her fragile bubble from any disruptions, not tolerating even his grandmother, who sought to push Y/N back into her duties. He understood that she needed her time, and he was ready to give her as much as she required, becoming the only consonant in her routine. His heart swelled with a clinging torturous protectiveness towards her that he embraced without hesitation.

Eventually, though it still seemed too soon, Y/N returned back to her duties. The lessons she had missed were especially hard, but she only encouraged the challenge because it helped her take her mind off things. But what distracted her even more, an undeniable part of her recovery, was the man she was promised to. As if Neteyam had effortlessly woven himself into her thoughts, his scent lingered in her home, his gaze on her was so warm, it surpassed the brilliance of a thousand suns. Slowly, but surely, somethin started to bloom inside of her that felt beyond gratitude and loyalty towards him. 

Now more often than out of obligation, their paths continued to intersect, with Neteyam seeking her out in between his breaks under the reasoning of checking on her. Small activities they shared nestled the dearest place in her heart, easing the scars left behind by Kaye's tragic passing. Like a balm for her wounds, Neteyam became everything that she craved.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

All that time, Neteyam feared that Kaye’s death would affect the fragile relationship he had with Y/N, thinking that she would drift further away under the weight of grief. But when she leaned on Neteyam instead, seeking comfort and finding strength in his support, he realized that maybe the roots of their bond had taken deeper than they ever saw coming. And if they survived this, then maybe they could face anything together.

But the newfound confidence quickly wavered with a single announcement. The fear of tying their lives together was mutual, seeped into both of their thoughts. They couldn’t deny the pull they felt for another but the weight of the ceremony, looming over them as an unknown abyss, was too heavy to sustain. 

“You two look like ghosts, what did grandmother say?” Kiri was eager to tease her brother and Y/N, once they walked out of Mo’at’s tent.

Y/N felt a knot form in her stomach at the question, glancing up at Neteyam next to her, who seemed equally anxious, chewing on his bottom lip. Was their bond strong enough to survive such timing? Kiri, tired of waiting, raised her eyebrows to urge them to speak.

“Tsahik has set the day for the ceremony,” Neteyam took a deep sigh before passing the news to his sister, "It will take place in ten days' time, during the next full moon."

“So soon?” Kiri questioned, glancing between her brother and Y/N.

“The bond between two mates is supposed to be sacred, and Eywa has deemed it the right time for our union,” Y/N repeated Mo’at’s words.

Neither of them protested. 

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“I can’t today,” Y/N forced an apologetic smile, “There's so much to prepare for the ceremony. I’m sure you’d -”

“I understand,” Neteyam nodded eagerly to convince her he really did, “I have preparations to make as well.”

Y/N let out a sigh of relief, the interaction had been repeated a few times already over the course of the past few days, ever since Mo’at had declared the date for the blessing of their union as mates. Neteyam backed out of the healing tent with a sheepish smile, but his mind was a mess. He couldn’t understand why she suddenly made him so nervous? The weight of the approaching ceremony fueled his unease every time he saw her now.

To make the matters worse, the vision from his Dream Hunt relentlessly invaded his dreams every night. There she was, the graceful and strong woman standing beside him, holding his hand, haunting his subconscious that was already stirred with the events in his life. The unusually long necklace, adorned with blue feathers and layered twice, hung from her neck, cascading down to her hips. But as his eyes tried tracing her face, it felt like the image of her slipped through his grasp like sand. No matter how hard he tried, her face remained a mystery. He would wake up in the middle of the night, the vision of this woman lingering in his mind, and he would desperately try to recapture the moments, hiding his face in between his knees and squeezing his eyes shut to go back. But his thoughts would invariably drift to his soon-to-be mate.

What was Y/N feeling? There was a whirlwind of emotions, bundled up from the loss, from the gain, from the upcoming unknown. But she wasn’t quite ready to face their depths. So she occupied herself with preparations for the ceremony earnestly, not out of her wish to become Neteyam’s, rather out of desperation to avoid him as much as she could. Seeing him made it all too real, too rushed, so instead she had declared herself to be busy for walks, for talks, for any kind of interaction that’d be long enough to give away her anxiousness. 

To choose and make the ceremonial special mixes, to weave her garments, to prepare a gift for her future mate - everything seemed to be more important, than spending time with Neteyam. But deep down, she was just scared. Of facing the guilt she carried for letting go of Kaye and having her heart beat for Neteyam now. 

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The night was draped in a blanket of darkness when Neteyam found himself standing outside Y/N’s home, the faint flicker of light from the inside drawing him closer. He hesitated for a moment before nearing the entrance. He wanted to respect this distance between them that she eagerly seeked out but it’s been too difficult. 

The sight of Y/N immediately took his breath away. Under the soft glow of the handmade fluorescent lamps, Y/N was hunching over a piece of unfinished jewelry, her fingers working swiftly, with far more ease than when she worked on mats. The piece resembled a traditional Omatikaya necklace but its intricacy suggested a higher rank than any of their clan members would typically wear. It was as if she had envisioned him wearing it one day, in his rightful place as the Olo'eyktan. Neteyam gulped nervously at the thought.

Y/N, sensing his presence, suddenly looked up from her work, eyes widening in surprise to find him standing there. It had been a while since they had been truly alone together, ever since the announcement of the ceremony.

“Neteyam?” her voice was quiet, “What are you doing here?”

Neteyam cleared his throat, his gaze lingering on the unfinished necklace for a moment.

"I... I couldn't stay away," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I saw the light and... I wanted to see what you were doing."

Y/N clutched the half-finished necklace, hiding it from his view with a hurry. A small pout settled on her face from his sudden curiosity. 

“It’s not done, stop looking,” she ordered protectively.

“Is it for me?” Neteyam couldn’t resist the prying.

He stepped further, sitting down in front of her and craning his neck to catch a glimpse of the piece she was masterfully hiding from him. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head in amusement at the childish behavior.

“Seriously, aren’t you going to show it to me?”

“No, it has to be a surprise,” she was a little irritated with his sternness. 

“Really?” he quirked an eyebrow with irony.

“Well, can I see your gift?” Y/N challenged him back.

“No, but -”

“Then I’m not showing you this. It’s not finished yet.”

He smirked, finding the whole banter just amusing and relaxing for the first time in days, but decided not to push it. Deciding to give her a little more space, he leaned back on his palms and watched with a glint in his eyes, as Y/N quickly gathered her supplies away, hiding the necklace as promptly as she could under her working table. 

“Why are you even awake at this hour?”

Her question caused him to falter. It really has slipped his mind to come up with an excuse to invade her space this late at night. 

“I guess… I wanted to check on you. We haven’t spoken in a while.”

“We spoke this morning.”

“No, not like that,” Neteyam shook his head, “I mean a real conversation.”

“Yeah, well… we have been busy, it’s not like…” Y/N trailed off guiltily. 

“Not like you were avoiding me?” 

“What? No!” she quickly withdrew from the accusation, though it was a truthful one.

“Come on, Y/N. I can see that you’re dreading to spend time with me. I know this timing for the ceremony is not ideal, but if we just push through this together, instead of doing it alone -” his words tumbled out of his mouth in a rush, but Y/N interrupted him, pressing a finger to his lips. His eyes widened, waiting for an explanation.

"I'm just nervous," she confessed softly, her hand falling back into her lap.

“You are?”

“Of course, aren’t you?”

“Are you kidding me? I haven’t slept in a week!” Neteyam chuckled with relief.

A soft smile stretched Y/N’s lips, and under the soft light, it almost seemed like Neteyam was glowing too, a bright orange warmth radiated from within his chest and spread out all the way to his cheeks. 

“I didn’t know that you had the ability to get nervous,” Y/N couldn't help but tease.

He gave her a lopsided smirk, almost as if he was annoyed but at the same time excited that the feeling of being wrapped up in her comfort had finally returned. 

"Even I can have flaws sometimes," he playfully retorted, earning a playful smack on his chest in response.

He caught her palm in his hand, gently placing it against his chest just above his ribcage, and both of their heartbeats picked up. Y/N looked up at him with tenderness, surprised by the intimate gesture, but it felt more profound than any moment she had ever shared with Kaye. The intensity in Neteyam's eyes mirrored her own emotions, as if he was pleading for something, anything from her. When his eyes fell to her lips, a blush warmed her cheeks, and Y/N cleared her throat. Quickly, Neteyam withdrew his hand, rising to his feet. The air in the room suddenly filled with a hint of awkwardness

"Well, I better go. I have to wake up early tomorrow," he hurriedly explained, "It's... um, a really important mission."

Y/N nodded with slight disappointment, not sure if it was aimed more at him or at herself.

“Good luck, Neteyam.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Neteyam!” Y/N shouted, her eyes fluttering open.

With a ragged breath and cheeks wet from tears, she jumped off of her mat immediately, having just woken up from a vivid nightmare. Her heart pounded at the images of Neteyam going off the mission and never returning. This rotten feeling of something bad happening gripped her stomach, urging her to rush out of her home as soon as her feet could carry her.

It was already an early morning, sun just barely rising from behind the horizon, and Y/N feared she might have been too late. Her steps were fueled by desperation, as she finally made it to Sully's home, ignoring the cold morning air sending shivers down her skin. Before she could proceed further into the pod, Jake, who went unnoticed by the young woman, caught her attention.

“Are you okay, kid?” he raised his eyebrows in response to her flinch, clearly not expecting to be seeing him.

The Olo’eyktan was sitting on the ground, his back leaning against the wall, the strange sky people's weapons were laid out in front of him, as he was in the middle of checking every single one before the day ahead. Y/N only nodded, the reality of her actions just settling in, turning her cheeks dark blue from all the embarrassment crashing in. 

“Oel ngati kameie,” she quickly signed to him, bowing her head slightly, “Is Neteyam still home?”

Jake hummed with a slight confusion, still unsure of what the girl had been doing so early in the morning there, clearly distraught. But before he could voice out his response, Neteyam already walked out of the pod, with his mother right behind him. Y/N’s eyes quickly traced the similar weapons adorning both Na’vi, their war paint already on. She caught them just a moment before they were ready to leave, and drew in a small breath of relief.

“Oel ngati kameie,” she gestured quickly to Neytiri, her eyes darting between the woman and her son.

Both were surprised to see her there but the anxiousness plastered over Y/N’s face worried Neteyam. He greeted her back, silently asking for an explanation with his gaze. Just like Jake, Neytiri observed the exchange with a small frown.

“Y/N, is something wrong?” Neteyam urged her gently, his own voice haltering at the sudden fear of rejection.

He went home last night content with their mutual confessions, thinking that they had reached an understanding. But right then, as she stood before him like that, doubts started reappearing in his mind. What if she was there to tell him she wasn’t ready? That she regretted agreeing to the union?

“I have to speak with you right now,” Y/N requested with a stern voice.

“We don’t have time for that, kid,” Jake intervened, as he stood up from his seat, “Once Lo’ak is ready, we’re leaving for the mission.”

Y/N’s eyes darted pleadingly between the three Sully’s. Her hand reached out for Neteyam’s, clinging to him, as she glanced back at Jake, her voice breaking.

“It is very important, please.”

“Jake,” Neytiri finally chimed in, her tone empathetic, “Let them speak.”

The chief shook his head with slight irritation but complied with his mate’s wish anyway. His gaze softened once it landed on their intertwined hands.

“Alright, but only for a minute. I’m serious, Neteyam.” 

“Yes, sir.”

Quickly, Y/N nodded in gratitude to the Olo’eyktan, as she led Neteyam slightly away from them, enough to feel safe in her confession. Her eyes were already tearing up, and she wasn’t really sure why, but Neteyam tensed up immediately, preparing himself to take whatever she was going to throw at him.

"Neteyam, you can't go on this mission. I had a dream, and... you never came back from it. You can't go now," she began to babble, her words rushed and jumbled together.

“Y/N, what are you talking about?” he frowned, barely managing to get anything out of what she said.

"I saw you in my dream! You got shot and fell from your ikran during the mission. I lost you," she choked, her eyes welling up with tears once again. "Please, you have to listen to me."

“Y/N, I can’t miss out on this mission. It is too important,” Neteyam stepped closer, his voice reassuring her with his gentle tone, “You just had a nightmare. It wasn’t real.”

“I can’t lose you too,” a tear streamed down her cheek.

As the first rays of sunrise painted the sky, Neteyam's heart swelled with a love as vast as the forests of Pandora. The sight of her, standing there with tear-filled eyes, pleading for him to stay, stirred something deep within him. He could feel the roots of their connection grow stronger, intertwining with his every fiber. With a tender touch, he wiped her cheek with his palm, then tucked the hair behind her ear. 

“I will be safe, I promise.”

“I can’t let you go.”

“My child,” Neytiri's voice broke the moment, drawing their attention.

Y/N hastily wiped away her eyes, aware that Neytiri had likely overheard their conversation. In the past days, most of Y/N’s time was spent on the preparations, occupying herself with endless options for things that were not as important as just her being ready mentally. But the pressure of perfection weighed even heavier on Y/N under Neytiri's watchful presence. As a Na'vi deeply rooted in tradition and loyalty to their home, Neytiri's opinion held great significance. Y/N couldn't help but feel a nervousness, fearing that her choices would be met with disapproval. Though she didn’t know that Neytiri’s attentiveness was only fueled by the intention of seeking out signs that Y/N and her eldest son were finally growing closer. Now seeing the way Y/N teared up at the mere thought of Neteyam getting hurt had finally satisfied that curiosity. 

“Do not worry about Neteyam, he is a skilled warrior, and he will be safe,” she stepped closer to Y/N, hand reaching out to softly pat her back.

“But the dream -”

“It is only a bad dream,” Neytiri interrupted the small protest, “Kiri has told me about how busy and restless you have been recently. Perhaps even nervous about the nearing of the ceremony? That must have affected your mood.”

Y/N nodded hesitantly at the inquiry. Neytiri offered her an understanding smile.

“You worry too much,” she concluded, “Stay with the girls today. They’ll help you with distractions.”

“Especially Tuk,” Neteyam chimed in with a reassuring smile, “She has been dying to spend time with you anyway.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“I made you a necklace!” Tuk's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as she jumped up from the ground, eager to present her masterpiece she had been crafting for the past days under the guidance of her mother. 

“Oh, Tuk, you didn’t have to!” Y/N leaned back, a gentle smile gracing her lips, as she observed the young girl.

"She's been eager to welcome you into the family, so," Kiri replied with a smirk, taking a seat next to Y/N, "She even convinced Lo'ak to find these blue feathers for her."

“Hey, don’t spoil it!”

Y/N chuckled at the distraction, but as she waited for Tuk to retreat the necklace, her thoughts drifted back to Neteyam. The Sully’s tent was already filled with darkness, it was way past the sunset and the war party still hasn’t returned from their mission. Y/N sat up straight, her posture tensing up at the thoughts, trying to steady her nervous breaths. The chaos that unfolded from Tuk’s search for the gift somehow brought that panic back into her. Kiri observed her friend with curiosity.

To Kiri, Y/N changed drastically in the past months. The way she carried herself, how she slowly grew more accustomed to the idea of being in an arranged union with Neteyam, her active involvement in the preparations. She seemed like a changed person, better, stronger. And though at first Kiri had written it off as being an aftermath of distracting herself from Kaye’s death, now seeing how anxious Y/N was turning with every minute as she glanced towards the door, it was evident that it was rather the effect of her older brother.

“They’ll be back soon, don’t worry.”

“Hm?” Y/N turned to face her, “It is so late though…”

“But the mission was kind of big and dangerous and they had to be extra careful?” Kiri quirked her eyebrow, a slight irony registering in her voice, “Trust me, they have done this a thousand times. Dad and mom won’t let anything bad happen.”

“Of course, I do not question your parents’ bravery and skill, it is just,” Y/N took a deep sigh, “This dream really messed me up.”

“You refused to believe Tsahik’s vision from Eywa about you and Neteyam but you think a silly nightmare you had is a warning?”

“No,” Y/N blushed deeply at the mention of the vision, then casted her gaze downwards, “I do believe Tsahik now.”

The very idea that Y/N had strongly opposed was now tinged with an unexpected delight. The thought of the Great Mother orchestrating the entire situation to bring her and Neteyam closer together sent such a pleasant shiver down her spine. Thankfully, before Kiri could tease her about the open admittance, Tuk interrupted, kneeling in front of them and placing a string of beads and blue feathers in Y/N's lap.

“Here! Lo’ak said it will be too long but you’re tall, right?” Tuk’s eyes twinkled with excitement.

Y/N couldn't suppress a snort of amusement, grateful for the momentary distraction. She let Tuk place the necklace around her neck in two layers, even though it was still overly long and disproportionate for an adult Na'vi. As Y/N stood up, the feathery necklace cascaded down to her hip bone. But it was surprisingly complimenting her tall frame.

"Well, Tuk, what do you think?" Y/N attempted a half-hearted twirl, earning a genuine laughter from the little girl.

“That looks nice!” a male voice chimed in, and all eyes turned towards the entrance.

It was Jake, walking in with a knowing smile, already recognizing the handiwork of his youngest. Y/N's own smile faded instantly, her heart pounding in her chest as she anxiously scanned the room for a familiar face. One after the other, Neytiri and Lo'ak entered, carrying items, retreated from the mission, but the commotion of Tuk running to her parents and their concerned inquiries to Kiri began to fade into the background. Y/N's eyes locked onto the man she had been worrying about the entire day, and her knees were ready to give out at the mere sight of him.

Neteyam, visibly exhausted and weary, entered the room carrying the remaining weapons they had retrieved. When his eyes met Y/N's, they lit up with a sudden glow. Without hesitation, she leaped towards him, and though his arms were still occupied with unfamiliar items, she wrapped her own around his neck with a sigh of relief.

“Thank Eywa, you’re okay!” Y/N tightened her grasp, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

Neteyam, taken aback by the sudden affection, took a brief moment to set aside the items he was carrying and hugged her back. A toothy joyful grin quickly made its way to his face.

"I'm more than okay," he chuckled, his heart melting from the warmth. He almost didn’t even notice the way his family watched the whole interaction with teasing smiles. 

He rolled his eyes at his father, who gave him an approving nod, but couldn’t ignore the way his heart raced in sync with Y/N’s. The lines of worry and exhaustion that had been etched onto his face throughout the heavy mission began to fade away within the comfort of her arms.

“So grandmother was right,” Lo’ak mumbled with sarcasm, though the nature of Y/N’s and Neteyam’s relationship had been predicted by the whole family since a few weeks ago.

“They like each other, right, mom?” Tuk's voice echoed loudly through the room, pulling Neteyam and Y/N back to the present moment. Neytiri, her eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and affection, nodded in response to her daughter's question.

Y/N quickly unwrapped herself from Neteyam, an awkwardness finding a way into the air. She gave him a sheepish apologetic smile but his gentle smile in return sent a pleasant warmth to her cheeks. Hastily, she averted her eyes, settling them on the family. 

“Come on, let’s give them some privacy guys,” Jake pretended to be serious about it, but not even he could hide the excitement in his own tone, “We’ll go to Tsahik for a check-up and will be back soon.”

Like toddlers, one after the other, Neytiri rushed her kids out. But all of them still kept those teasing, mischievous expressions on their faces. Even Lo’ak, who had barely shown any interest in the arrangement since its beginning, dealing with his own difficulties with his parents, couldn’t help but snicker at his brother, knowing exactly what he was going to joke about later, when they were alone. On his way out, Jake gave them a final nod.

“Y/N, you’re staying with us tonight, right?”

Awkwardly, she could only nod back.

Once the tent was empty, Y/N took a moment before finally turning around to face Neteyam. He still had that soft look on his face that made it dawn upon her how much she missed him. And that maybe she loved him? 

Simultaneously, Neteyam’s eyes traced her face, then the blue caught his attention and as he took in the obnoxiously long necklace around her neck adorned with big blue feathers, his breath got stuck in his throat. 

“Is that yours?” he asked suddenly.

“Oh, yeah, Tuk gave it to me,” she answered a little confused.

The vision from his Dream Hunt suddenly felt complete - the tall beautiful woman standing next to him, a long necklace hanging low from her neck. It was supposed to be Y/N! The woman he had been obsessed with the idea of, that Eywa herself had chosen for him, wasn't just a mere concept of a destined mate; it was Y/N, standing right beside him.

a/n: pls ignore if this is poorly written, i didn't spend enough time on proofreading this, so?? anyway, prepare for more fluff for the finale :)

finale

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[babygorewhore]

I’m with you

This is a reupload of my bipolar comfort fic. I originally took it down because at the time it was too vulnerable for me. But now, I want to share it. I want you to feel less alone. And I also need to let this out.

Warnings. Angst. Heavy angst at that. Bipolar disorder depicted but not a specific type. I have type one so this is my experience. Depression and mania shown. Self inflicted bruises. Suicidal thoughts. It’s a heavy one guys. But it ends on a comforting note. Eddie would love you and accept you. And you deserve your own Eddie. I can’t wait to share more fics as the new year passes.

It started slowly.

Eddie noticed you were more tired. You started sleeping more. You didn’t want to go out as much. Your friend’s phone calls and texts went unanswered. It was getting harder for you to get dressed. You didn’t have energy to put on makeup. Anything you loved doing. You just couldn’t do it. You stopped feeling desire.

Eddie knew this was depression. Deep, dark depression. He knew of it. But in a much different way. Some weeks you couldn’t stop crying. Inconsolable and all he could do was hold you until you passed out. You had your doctor appointments online. You couldn’t leave the house. Eddie was beside himself with worry.

“I don’t want to be here.” You hugged your knees while laying on the floor. Eddie tried not to cry. He really did. But your hair was matted. Days old pajamas and your hands trembled with hysteria. A black pit in your chest. “I can’t fucking live in my head! Just make this feeling stop.”

He was terrified of leaving you. Even for a second. You laid your head on his lap, screaming about how much you wanted to die. It was heartbreaking. In his mind, you were so lively. Passionate. Loving. Kind. Funny. You had so many good qualities. He loved you so hard, he couldn’t even imagine life without his special girl.

But you didn’t see it.

You didn’t eat. He had to practically force you to drink something. Eddie was trembling with terror every time you were alone with a closed door.

But then, he came home from work, prepared to give you something to try and cheer you up. You had cleaned the entire apartment. Changed clothes. Showered and you had detangled your hair. Music was playing.

Eddie was…surprised to say the least. He had lost track of time of the deep darkness. But he would take this over the constant unbearable misery.

You were energetic. Bubbling with excitement and you didn’t even look like the same person. Eddie was so happy you seemed better. And for about a week, he thought everything had finally started getting better.

And then it somehow got even worse.

Eddie thought thankfully you were finally sleeping, at least for a few minutes. This new episode didn’t allow you to rest at all. He didn’t understand how you were still standing. You hadn’t slept. Dark circles under your eyes. It was almost a painful opposite of before. Eddie saw you do so many things at once. It was like your mind couldn’t be contained. It wouldn’t shut off. He couldn’t even keep up with you.

After he left for less than two minutes to grab something out of the car, when he came back in, all he heard was your footsteps. Stomping. He quickly came into the bedroom. You were sitting on the floor. You were wearing one of his shirts and shorts. Your hair was out of your face, exposing your clenched jaw and your eyes were glazed with something he was afraid of.

“I thought you were gonna try and sleep, babe.” He was slow to approach you. This was growing unpredictable. It wasn’t a rollercoaster. It was an inescapable storm.

“I can’t fucking sleep.” Your voice was low but biting. “I haven’t been able to sleep. I-“ You exhaled slowly, removing your hands from your lap. Eddie’s eyes widened. Massive bruises on your thighs. Fist sized.

“Baby, why did you that? You don’t deserve that,” He started and you shrugged harshly.

“Well, apparently I do. I must have done something wrong to have this fucking disorder.” You stood and Eddie went to approach you, knowing you were in pain but you shook off his attempt.

“Eddie, this is insane. I have no idea what the next day is. I don’t know if I’m going to be at the bottom of the pit or I’m going to be at the top of the clouds. There is no medium. I’m on all these pills. I go to therapy. I do everything right! But it still doesn’t matter.” You were crying without tears. The bracelet he gave you dangling from your wrist.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I can see it in your eyes. I see it now with the bruises on your legs but you aren’t-“

“God, I can’t do this anymore.” Your hands went on either side of your head. “I can’t fucking do this. I don’t want to live if it’s going to be like this. What kind of life is this? I-i feel like I’m constantly losing my mind. I never get it back. And I don’t know which is worse. I am so tired of fighting a battle no one can see.”

Now, your eyes welled. “Eddie. You don’t deserve this. All I do is probably bring you down with all these problems. You shouldn’t have to suffer because of me.”

He rushed to you, letting go of whatever held him back these past months and wrapped you in a crushing hug. His hair was tied in a bun so he could feel your skin against his face. Eddie hugged you so hard he couldn’t breathe and you stumbled.

He pulled back slightly, cupping your face and wiping away the tears with his thumbs.

“I am never going to let you go or let you deal with this alone. Ever. Baby. I’m not suffering. I have no idea what it’s like to be you. But You know what I feel?” You shook your head. Barely. “All I feel is so much love.”

“You shouldn’t-“

“Yes I should. I know you can’t see it now. And that’s okay. You don’t need to. But I see all of you. I see every thing about you. I want to be with you. No matter how dark it is.” You tried to hide that you were crying but he held you still.

“Baby. You’re not going to deal with this alone. I’ll fight for you. If you can’t right now, then I will. Im going try my fucking best to help you get through this. If that means I sit with you while you’re crying or I help you with a project you come up with. I love all versions of you.”

You finally wrapped your arms around his shoulders and hugged him again. “I love you, and I’m so glad you’re with me.” Your words were choked but Eddie was so relieved to hear them.

As worn out and upset as you were, he knew that that was exactly what you needed. And he was going to always be here with you. To help you get up again.

Tagging @xxhellfirebunnyxx @reidsbtch @lesservillain @take-everything-you-can @emsgoodthinkin @imyourdaninow @slvt4jamesmarch @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @melodymunson @onegirlmanytales

If you’re not tagged I forgot. I’m very tired and I’m going through a depressive state myself. But I hope this comforted you.

[yetanothersparrowofthedawn]

Secrets From a Girl

Masterlist

Word Count: 7.6k

Pairing: Jake x Reader

Genre: Angst, slight hurt, ex!Jake

Context: Y/N, a very successful singer-songwrite has been close friends with the members of Greta Van Fleet for several years. She once had a tumultuous yet terribly passionate relationship with Jake that ended painfully (you’ll see…). They eventually figured out how to remain on good terms for everybody’s sake. Only, seeing each other move on isn’t the easiest thing.

Disclaimer: English isn’t my native language, so I apologize in advance for mistakes and awkward wordings to come. Also, I guess this fic could be triggering for some because it’s kind of sad and angsty.

Previous Track: California

Chapter soundtrack: Secrets From A Girl – Lorde

Baby girl, no one's gonna feel the pain for you. You're gonna love again, so just try staying open, And when the time comes, you'll fall. Yeah, when the time comes, you'll fall. … Your dreams and inner visions, all your mystical ambitions. They won't let you down. Do your best to trust all the rays of light. Everybody wants the best for you, But you gotta want it for yourself, My love.

(By the way, for every ‘Chapter Soundtrack’, basically the idea is that it’s a song that YN eventually wrote with that chapter of her life in mind)

Alright, let’s get into this.

________

Breathe me in, breathe me out I don't know if I could ever go without…

The dim glow of the living room greeted Jake as he stumbled in, still half-asleep. The boys huddled around Danny's iPad, their animated discussion creating a low hum in the room. An air of disagreement hung over them, their faces etched with differing opinions.

“I’m telling you there’s no way-” Josh's voice cut through the murmurs, his conviction triggering another round of mumbles from the others. Jake, now fully awake, couldn't resist the urge to join the fray.

“What are you all looking at?” he inquired, his curiosity piqued. The collective gaze shifted toward him, finally acknowledging his presence.

 “It’s this thing,” Danny turned around to face him, eyes still glued to the tablet in his hand. “There’s a music video that came out yesterday, and the press online is freaking out, saying Y/N’s in it-”

“I mean, it could be her,” Sam interjected, grabbing the iPad. “It’s not like it shows that much-”

“I've been telling you there is no way that’s her,” Josh rolled his eyes, exasperation evident in his tone.

“I mean,” Danny added, a hint of skepticism in his voice, “we see what? A waist? A neck? That could be anyone.”

“Thank you,” Josh said, his response laced with vindictiveness.

Jake grabbed the tablet from Sam, his eyes squinting as they adjusted to the bright screen. The video unfolded before him; each frame scrutinized in his quest for confirmation. Emotions stirred within him, a blend of curiosity and a hint of something he couldn't quite put into words.

The woman in the video did seem to move with an uncanny familiarity, a subtle recognition tugging at Jake's senses. A quick exchange of glances with Josh only added to the intrigue. “What’s the name of the song?” Jake asked, nonchalant.

“Uh, it’s—” Sam replied, “something- fruit salad whatever—”

“Title’s here, see?” Danny pointed out, “Watermelon Sugar.”

The words unexpectedly struck Jake like a chord. He cleared his throat, a feigned nonchalance concealing the memories creeping the back of his mind. "I don’t know,” he mumbled, “could be her." He returned the iPad and casually making his way out the door.

"Where you going?" Sam asked.

"Gotta piss," Jake replied, his footsteps echoing through the corridor.

The bathroom door clicked shut behind him, enclosing him in a small space. Resting his hands against the sides of the sink, he let out a deep breath before meeting his own gaze in the mirror.

************

The living room had been bathed in the warm glow of sunlight filtering through the curtains, that day. The faint crackling of the record player added a gentle melody to the lazy ambiance.

They were entwined on the couch, the vinyl spinning tales of bygone eras as if time had slowed down just for them. He felt the subtle weight of her against him, a comforting presence in the hushed tranquility.

Her soft hums danced in the air, a serenade that painted the room with a touch of nostalgia. It wasn't often that their hectic schedules allowed for such tranquil moments, making each second all-the-more precious.

As the last notes of the song played, the spell was momentarily broken. She stirred, a reluctant movement signaling an impending departure.

"Alright,” she announced, a practical reminder of the outside world, “I’m gonna be late." He caught her wrist, a silent plea for just a few more moments in this pocket of calm and pulled her back onto his lap. She let out a playful giggle, the sound a melody in itself.

"Five more minutes," he pleaded, a pout playing on his lips.

"Patty will be mad," she teased, rolling her eyes.

"Patty’s always mad," he retorted, nuzzling into the soft curve of her neck, losing himself in the intoxicating fragrance that was uniquely hers.

He lowered his head, and their lips met in a lingering kiss. The warmth shared between them seemed to suspend time. There was a quiet intimacy to the way their mouths moved together, a silent language only they could understand. After a moment, she gently pulled away, and he playfully protested with a melodramatic whine.

He looked up as she was grabbing her shoes. "Your lips always taste so nice," he mumbled, "How do they always taste so nice?" The question was posed with genuine curiosity, as if he were unraveling a mystery that had been haunting him.

Blushing at the compliment, she chuckled softly. "I don't know," she admitted, feigning innocence, "probably just my lip balm." Retrieving a pink stick from her pocket, she tossed it to him.

With a smooth catch, he examined the innocent-looking tube. Opening the cap, he took a moment to savor the scent.

He raised an eyebrow at the name on the label, "Watermelon sugar?" he said, "Doesn't smell like watermelon” he remarked, “or sugar, for that matter."

“Yeah?” she asked with a grin, “What does it smell like, then?”

He considered for a moment, tempted to confess what the scent truly evoked for him—her presence, her essence, everything that made her uniquely YN. However, with a sly grin, he opted for a less sentimental response.

"Strawberry," he replied, keeping his more poetic thoughts to himself. "It's nice."

Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she laced up her shoes. "Well, keep it," she suggested, a playful glint in her eyes. "I have, like, two hundred sticks hidden everywhere."

"I don't use lip balm," he stated.

“Not rock 'n roll enough for you?" she teased, slipping into her jacket. "Still,” she added, a playful glint in her eyes, “that way you can remember me when I’m gone.”

A quizzical arch of his eyebrow prompted him to play along. “Are you planning on leaving me, Y/L/N?” he inquired with a mock-serious tone, leaning into the charming act.

“Depends,” she retorted, her eyes dancing with mischief, “are you in any hurry to be rid of me, Kiszka?”

A soft chuckle escaped him. "Well, I wouldn’t say I’m in a hurry, per se, but—"

“Oh shush, you.” With a swift motion, she tossed it at him. “I’ll call you when I get out of the studio,” she declared, leaning in for a quick peck on his lips.

With a final lingering glance, she headed out, leaving him staring at her disappearing figure with a stupid smile, the sweet taste of her kiss still lingering on his lips.

If only he’d known merely two years later, they'd find themselves almost estranged, maybe, just maybe, he would’ve forced her to stay, maybe he would've held onto her a minute more.

******************

Kneeling on the cool bathroom floor, Jake opened the cabinet under the sink, his hands sifting through an assortment of Josh's hair products. His fingers finally closed around it—a small, inconspicuous pink stick.

A momentary hope flickered that perhaps his memory had failed him, but as he held it in his hands, the label staring back at him, reality set in. The words on the label mirrored those etched in his memory. Unease settled in his chest as he was reminded of the fact that, once, he’d been the one not wondering if he could ever go without Watermelon Sugar.

_____________

Jake returned to the dining room, the echoes fading away as he rejoined the ongoing conversation among the boys.

"Well, I mean, I guess we’ll find out soon enough, right?" Sam's casual tone filled the room.

"Oh yeah, when is she landing?" Danny's curiosity sparked.

"It was supposed to be at 3, but her flight’s been delayed, so she’ll have to come here straight from the airport," Josh informed, his voice carrying a mix of excitement and anticipation, "and you’d better be ready by then because we’re leaving for the venue right after."

"Sure,” Sam deadpanned, rolling his eyes at his older brother, “we’re going to take lessons in punctuality from you."

The American Music Awards were taking place in Nashville that year, providing a perfect opportunity for YN to reunite with the band. As Jake listened to the details, he couldn't help but feel a sense of strange apprehension. No matter how much time went by, how many girlfriends he went through, the prospect of YN's return always stirred up memories he had buried deep within.

The anticipation in the room grew, mirroring the excitement buzzing through the city. As they prepared for YN's arrival.

_________

A few hours later, a caravan of cars eventually rumbled down their street, an entourage of professionals descending upon the Greta headquarters. Security personnel, stylists, makeup artists, and hairstylists orchestrated a controlled chaos, transforming the residence into a bustling hive of activity.

Amidst the organized frenzy, Josh stood ready to greet YN's manager, a familiar face accustomed to the whirlwind that accompanied the life of a pop star. "Patty! It’s been too long,” Josh hugged the imposing woman. “Where’s YN?" he inquired, slightly concerned at YN’s apparent absence.

Dramatic as ever, YN's manager responded, "Pop stars, my darling, you know the drill. The airport was flooded with people."

"Is she still coming?" Josh pressed for reassurance.

"Of course she is. The show must go on!" she exclaimed with theatrical flair, "We just had to resort to... unusual methods," she added with a mysterious grin.

"Jesus,” Josh quipped, a hint of exasperation in his voice, “is she in a car trunk again?"

"A magician never reveals their tricks, sugar," she replied. "Anyway, in the meantime we can zhuzh y’all up,” she seized the boy’s face in her manicured hands before adding with a wink, “YN insisted."

The ambiance in the house shifted, embracing the essence of a backstage prelude before a grand performance. The rooms echoed with laughter, snippets of conversations, and the occasional hum of hair dryers. The scent of hairspray wafted through the air, blending with the underlying excitement that filled every corner of the space. The members of Greta Van Fleet, caught between the surreal and the routine, allowed themselves to be swept into the whirlwind.

The boys navigated the hustle and bustle of preparation with an air of practiced nonchalance. Their planned outfits, carefully curated for the grandeur of the Billboard Music Awards, exuded a sense of rock-and-roll sophistication. The expertise of YN’s staff worked wonders, transforming the brothers' already charismatic looks into something ready for the dazzling lights of the red carpet.

Suddenly, the house erupted in noise and stir as YN's arrival was announced. The atmosphere crackled with anticipation as she was ushered inside, immediately surrounded by a flock of stylists and makeup artists. Their mission: to seamlessly transition her from airport-casual to red-carpet-glamour in 40 minutes time.

 Amidst the organized chaos, the brothers found themselves fighting to get close to their old friend, a playful struggle that Sam punctuated with a groan. "Hey, folks, this is still our house, you know?" he protested with a grin.

YN's eyes lit up as she looked up, her gaze finally meeting theirs. Her face broke into the brightest smile. "Hi!" she exclaimed, her voice carrying genuine warmth and excitement. The air crackled with a blend of familiarity and anticipation while they shared a collective greeting. Josh pulled YN into a tight hug.

Jake, with his trademark laid-back charm, extended a casual yet heartfelt greeting. "Hey there," he said, a lopsided grin playing on his lips.

Sam patted YN's head, "What's up, popstar?" he teased, a cheeky grin accompanying his words. As the hellos and laughter echoed in the room, it became evident that despite the divergent paths they had taken in the music industry, their connection remained unshakable.

"So sorry for the commotion, guys," YN said, an apologetic smile tugging at her lips, “I was stuck in JFK for hours.” Her eyes flickered with gratitude for their understanding, acknowledging the huge mess that had taken over the place.

"No worries," Danny chimed in with an easygoing shrug, brushing off any concern.

"Yeah," Sam nodded in agreement, “besides, it’s no more chaotic than any random Sunday morning at Josh's place.”

Josh, smiled tightly, “And guess who is not invited to my next brunch?”

YN laughed, appreciating the lighthearted banter. "I’ve missed you guys." She was suddenly called into another room for hair and makeup and disappeared into the whirlwind of her glam team.

___________

Josh made his way to what had once been his bedroom, now turned into a makeshift beauty salon. He settled into the chair beside YN, the room buzzing with the orchestrated chaos of hairstyling. She was sat, draped in nothing but a towel, her hair in the careful hands of a stylist. Amid the whirlwind of beauty products, Josh initiated their exchange.

"So…" he began, leaning closer to be heard above the loud blow-dryer, "anything new with you?"

With a radiant smile, YN responded, her voice rising to match the decibels of the styling tools. "Well, I'm excited for tonight," she shared, the anticipation of the upcoming event evident in her expressive eyes. Her words touched on the delicate balance of managing expectations in the spotlight, a window into the intricacies of fame that often lay beneath the surface. "What about you, love?" she asked, inviting him to share his own slice of life.

"Nothing much," he replied casually, though the inquisitiveness in his eyes betrayed a deeper curiosity. “Anything else?” he insisted, his probing question hanging in the air—It was a subtle dance, an attempt to delve into the unspoken realms between them.

YN eyed him with suspicion, a momentary pause of understanding passing between them before he met her gaze in return. She finally spoke, “You saw the articles, didn’t you?”

Josh grinned at her, his reply laced with a hint of playful sarcasm. "Well, I'm pretty sure a blind man could've seen the articles, babe," he quipped, drawing a light chuckle from the hairdresser immersed in her task.

 "Damnit," YN sighed, a touch of disappointment in her voice. The weight of public scrutiny and speculation was always an unwanted companion for her.

"So…?" Josh inquired, a mix of curiosity and disbelief in his voice as he awaited her confirmation or denial. YN remained silent, but a delicate smile betrayed her thoughts, a revelation that left Josh stunned. "Shit, it's true?" he uttered, the realization settling in.

“Our Y/N settling down,” Sam chimed in, entering the room, “I guess now we’ve really seen it all!” YN rolled her eyes playfully, the smile on her face still lingering.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Josh asked, his tone a blend of confusion and mild reproach, “We were on the phone literally a week ago.”

“I don’t know,” she shook her head, her eyes reflecting a mix of emotions under the bright lights of the makeup room. The soft hum of conversation around her, the subtle fragrance of cosmetics in the air. "It all went really fast. We met at a party in LA a few months ago and,” she paused, “I don’t know, we just hit it off, I guess?”

“Hit it off?” Sam remarked, glancing at his own reflection in the mirror, “I’d say it’s more than that.”

“Well,” A soft sigh escaped her lips, and she ran her fingers through her partially styled hair. “We weren’t planning on going public anytime soon,” YN explained, her gaze meeting Josh's, a sense of vulnerability lingering beneath the makeup and glamour, “but with the whole- music video thing, I guess it’s already happening.”

_________

Outside the room, the atmosphere was charged with a mix of excitement and tension. The hallway buzzed with the hurried footsteps of stylists and assistants. Jake, however, stood still, his eyes momentarily lost in thought after overhearing the conversation. The ambient light cast shadows on his face, revealing the subtle furrow of his brow.

As Danny approached, he could sense the undercurrent of unease in his bandmate's demeanor. "You, okay?" Danny asked, concern etched across his face.

"Mmh? Yeah, sure," Jake mumbled, but his voice carried a weight that contradicted his words. “I gotta go get dressed” he added, walking away.

__________

Back inside the room, the air carried a mix of emotions—joy, surprise, and a hint of playful banter. YN's eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and nervousness. "So, everyone knows?" she asked, nervously glancing at Josh, who nodded affirmatively.

"I still can’t believe it," Sam laughed, injecting a playful tease into the atmosphere. "Going from rockstars to boybands?” he teased, “I gotta tell you, YN, that’s- that's quite a downgrade."

Rolling her eyes, YN couldn't resist the opportunity for a retort, "Oh, shut up." With a smirk, she grabbed a hairbrush and tossed it in Sam's direction, "I'll have you know he’s doing very well with his solo career."

"Not wrong,” Danny joined the conversation, “and if I remember correctly, you were the one insisting on playing 'Sweet Creature' in the car last year, Sam."

"We've all got our flaws," the youngest retorted dramatically, drawing a collective chuckle from the room.

"Come on, now, I’m serious.” YN said, her tone lighthearted yet somewhat defensive, “Be nice."

Josh was surprised by the protective edge to YN's tone, prompting him to consider the depth of her new relationship. "We're just joking around, don’t worry," he reassured her, "I'm sure he's great."

Sam, never one to back down, continued, "now, whether he's actually cool enough for you is a different matter."

With a nonchalant air, YN replied, "Well, you'll get to find out soon enough." Her words hung in the room, creating a brief lull in the conversation. Curiosity and a touch of concern crept into Josh's expression.

"How… soon, exactly?" he eventually asked.

“Well,” she giggled nervously, “now that you mention it. How would you feel about- um," she paused, "I don’t know,” she toyed with the hem of her towel before mumbling, “tonight?”

“Tonight!?” the three boys exclaimed simultaneously, their expression registering shock.

“Well, he is nominated-” she began to explain.

“Tonight, as in, two-hours-from-now-tonight?” Sam asked, trying to process the unexpected revelation.

“Well, what’s wrong with tonight?” she asked, her voice slightly trembling as she tried to stay calm, “it’s a night—a good night, I- I would even say it’s a- a great night, right?” she looked to Josh for backup, “Right?”

“Holy shit,” Danny muttered, uncharacteristic reaction for the usually composed musician.

"Alright," YN’s manager burst into the room, punctuating her entrance with grand gestures. "Everyone who isn’t working towards turning our girl into a couture creature, out!" she declared with theatrical flair. "We are out of here in twenty minutes!"

The room quickly cleared, with only YN and her stylists remaining in their spot. YN grabbed Josh’s wrist abruptly as he got up to leave. “Can you, uh-” she hesitated, avoiding eye contact, “can you give him a heads up for me?”

Josh nodded, gently. No clarifications were needed. “Of course,” he replied, before exiting the room.

___________

Josh had the finishing touches added to his hair before approaching his twin brother, who was engrossed in the meticulous process of tying his dress shoes. He hesitated before breaking the silence, "So, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but, uh-"

“I heard,” Jake cut him off, his eyes still focused on the task at hand, hands moving with a precision that seemed almost automatic.

“And,” Josh paused, choosing his words carefully, “you alright?”

“Sure,” Jake responded with a nonchalant shrug, his gaze shifting momentarily to the mirror as he fine-tuned the arrangement of his jewelry. Josh couldn’t help but feel a sense of surprise at the lack of reaction from his brother. It left him questioning his instincts. Maybe they truly had both moved on. After all, it’s true that Jake had been the first to get into other relationships.

___________

After twenty minutes, YN finally stepped out, a vision of elegance in a custom gown that could rival the most iconic looks from the fashion archives. The dress seemed to embrace her figure like a second skin, and Jake couldn't help but feel a sense of awe as he took in the sight.

 The room fell into a momentary hush as everyone's eyes were drawn to her, and even Josh found himself momentarily silenced by the sheer presence she exuded. YN's confident strides and poised demeanor demanded attention, making it clear that she was more than just a musician – she was a force to be reckoned with.

"Gucci, huh?” Sam smirked teasingly, “Someone's living the high life now."

“Well, Samuel,” YN shot back with a sly smile, "someone had to bring a touch of class to this crew."

"So, this is what happens when one sells their soul and upgrades to mainstream, huh?” Sam retorted playfully.

YN, always ready with a quick response, turned to Josh, "I’m sorry, is the person dressed like the Messiah talking to me?" she asked, gesturing toward Sam’s attire. Her comment elicited laughter from the room.

"Shots fired," Danny declared.

In the midst of the banter, YN stole a glance at Jake. His black suit complemented his rugged charm, an open shirt revealing a glimpse of his chest adorned with dangling necklaces. He looked good.

As YN hurriedly climbed into the awaiting car, a sleek black vehicle poised to transport her to the event, a flurry of stylists and assistants encircled her. In a synchronized dance, they meticulously attended to the final details of her immaculate ensemble.

 Several assistants, keen on maintaining the gown's pristine appearance, worked in harmony to ensure it cascaded flawlessly around her. Every fold and movement were handled with the precision reserved for a precious work of art. The atmosphere hummed with an undercurrent of excitement as YN gave a wave and a spirited shout, "I'll see you there!"

Meanwhile, the members of the band swiftly jumped into the back of their own designated car, the car door closing with a soft thud. The convoy of vehicles, an orchestrated ballet of anticipation, set in motion, leaving the house behind and heading towards the event that awaited them.

______________

The sleek line of black cars glided to a stop, marking the arrival of the band at the glamorous event. As the car doors opened, each member emerged into the dazzling spectacle of camera flashes and the cacophony of enthusiastic screams from fans and journalists alike. Stepping onto the red carpet, they were immediately swept up in the chaotic energy of the moment.

The band, accustomed to the electrifying rush of performing on stage, felt a subtle discomfort in the spotlight of the red carpet. The controlled chaos of a live performance was far more natural to them than the orchestrated poses and smiles demanded by the array of flashing cameras. Despite this, they maintained a polished facade, exchanging smiles, waves, and nods with the eager crowd.

Navigating the sea of journalists, each band member expertly fielded questions and posed for photos, their years of experience having honed their ability to navigate the less comfortable aspects of fame.

The sudden surge of screams reached a crescendo, capturing the band's attention as they turned to witness the arrival of YN. Her presence, ethereal and captivating, stole the spotlight. The custom gown she adorned seemed to possess a life of its own, catching the glow of the venue's lights.

 Her assistant fussed over the gown's train, making sure it trailed behind her effortlessly, as she stepped onto the red carpet, met with the undivided attention of everyone present.

YN was a natural at all this. Of course, anyone who truly knew her could see the slight tremor in her hands and the discreet heaving of her chest behind her composed appearance, but she played the part with finesse, engaging effortlessly with the cameras, flashing smiles, and striking poses.

With a radiant smile, YN gracefully walked towards the band. Deciding to seize the moment, she posed for a couple of photos with the band, creating a visual feast for the delighted fans whose cheers resonated in the background.

The intimacy was palpable as they exchanged smiles. After a brief interlude, they parted ways, the band venturing a little further to engage with journalists, while YN lingered, extending her time to pose for additional photos.

The band continued answering questions from journalists, the atmosphere buzzing with excitement. Suddenly, a surge of deafening screams erupted from the crowd. Heads turned, and there he was – Harry Styles. Screams and gasps spread through the onlookers, all wondering if they were about to witness the confirmation to what they had all been speculating about.

Anticipation reached its peak as Harry walked over to YN. He gently grabbed her by the waist, and together, they posed for the cameras, effectively hard launching their relationship to the public as the flashes illuminated their smiling faces.

The band members exchanged discreet glances, a mix of surprise and curiosity evident in their expressions. As they continued answering questions, their attention intermittently diverted to the unfolding scene. Fans were ecstatic, their screams echoing in the air, and journalists feverishly snapped photos of the unexpected couple.

Jake stood with a thoughtful expression on his face. The turn of events seemed to have unexpectedly caught him off guard. As he continued with the interview, his responses held a subtle undercurrent of distraction. The unfamiliarity of seeing YN in the arms of another man had stirred quiet contemplation within him.

______________

The prestigious event started with grandeur. Seated at separate tables, the band and YN navigated the star-studded gathering, each absorbed in their own conversations. The vibrant energy of the venue resonated with the collective excitement of attendees, a mix of industry luminaries, celebrities, and devoted fans. The stage, adorned with dazzling lights set the scene for a night of celebration.

As the ceremony kicked off, artists from various genres took to the stage. The evening unfolded and the band couldn't help but exchange amused glances and subtle eye rolls. Clear instances of lip-syncing from certain artists drew their collective skepticism, a sentiment seemingly shared by few others in the room.

The audience responded to each performance with cheers, applause, and sometimes even tears. Greta Van Fleet eventually took the stage with an electrifying energy that reverberated through the venue. The unmistakable sound of roaring guitars and thunderous drums filled the air as the band launched into one of their signature hits.

As Jake's fingers danced across the frets of his guitar, delivering powerful riffs that cut through the air with precision. There was a noticeable intensity in his playing, as though he’d been compensating for something unseen.

As the members of Greta Van Fleet walked through the backstage area, the exhilaration of their performance still coursing through their veins, they stumbled upon YN. Her eyes sparkled with genuine excitement and pride congratulating them enthusiastically. "You guys killed it up there, as usual," YN exclaimed, as she pulled them into a tight hug, always their number one fan. “I’m next, I have to change, but I wanted to see you all first.”

They were suddenly distracted by the sight of YN’s assistant carrying a ridiculously massive bouquet of roses into her dressing room.

 Sam to playfully inquired, "Loverboy?"

A shy smile tugged at YN's lips as she nodded, "He's- a little extra," she admitted.

Jake couldn't help but recall that YN had always preferred daisies to roses but chased the thought away immediately.

With a gentle nudge from Josh, YN snapped back to the present. "Alright, we’ll leave you to it then,” he said, “Give 'em hell," he added, maintaining a long-running tradition.

 "Sure will," YN replied as she headed off to prepare for her own performance.

As YN's name echoed through the venue, the crowd erupted into a symphony of screams, their excitement palpable. YN gracefully ascended the stage, adorned in a simple silk slip. A genuine smile played on her lips as the frenzy of the crowd intensified.

 The atmosphere was charged with anticipation as she settled behind the piano, her fingers poised above the keys. Once the audience calmed down, she started playing.

The audience fell into a collective hushed reverence, hanging onto every note and every nuance. Throughout the performance, glances exchanged among the crowd spoke volumes.

Amidst the sea of enraptured faces, Jake found himself descreetly drawn into the universe crafted by YN. From his vantage point, the stage lights framed her in a soft glow, casting an enchanting aura around her figure.

His eyes followed her every movement and the crowded venue seemed to fade away, leaving only YN and the echoes of her melody. The vulnerability in her performances always tugged at something within the guitarst, a reminder of the shared history that lingered between them.

As the final notes hung in the air, the applause thundered through the venue. Brought back to the present, Jake joined the enthusiastic ovation.

___________

The glitz and glamour continued to sweep through the venue. The stage saw a procession of artists and creators, each claiming their well-deserved accolades. Awards were handed out, speeches were delivered, and the audience reveled in the collective spirit of recognition. In this whirlwind of excitement, the moment for the most coveted award approached, adding a layer of suspense to an already dazzling night.

The atmosphere in the venue crackled with tension as Kelly Clarkson announced the nominees for the highly anticipated "Artist of the Year" award. YN's heart raced, and she fidgeted in her seat, her nerves palpable in the moments leading up to the reveal.

 As the presenter uttered YN’s name among the nominees, a surge of nervous energy gripped YN. Seeking solace, she glanced over at Josh, finding reassurance in his playful encouragement from two tables away—two thumbs up and an exaggerated, silly expression that managed to coax a smile from her. The room held its breath as Kelly Clarkson opened the envelope, unveiling the winner.

The cheers from the crowd enveloped YN as her name echoed through the venue, and she sat there, momentarily frozen, the magnitude of the recognition sinking in.

YN eventually rose from her seat, a mixture of shock and joy playing on her face. She took the first steps toward the stage. The anticipation of the crowd created a surreal ambiance, the cheers and applause merging into a harmonious melody of celebration.

However, as she reached the bottom of the stairs, a momentary panic seized her. The elegant expanse of her gown posed an unexpected challenge, leaving her unsure of how to navigate the ascent gracefully. In that heartbeat of uncertainty, a comforting touch enveloped her arm, and she turned to find someone had rushed to her side. Jake.

His presence, as reliable as ever, was a silent reassurance. Without uttering a word, he linked his arm with hers, a subtle gesture that conveyed both support and familiarity. Together, they embarked on the climb, the cheers of the crowd still in the background.

“Congrats,” he breathed with a prideful grin once they reached the stage.

She mouthed a “thank you” in response, her own smile mirroring his.

As Jake settled back into his seat, his gaze unwaveringly fixed on YN, who now stood poised at the stand, a mix of nerves and excitement dancing in her eyes. The room hushed in anticipation, the spotlight now solely on her.

As YN began her thank-you speech, all words seemed to momentarily vacate her brain, leaving a genuine vulnerability that resonated with the audience. The microphone in front of her captured the tremor in her voice as she expressed gratitude and humility.

"I-I uh, want to first extend my heartfelt appreciation to my incredible fans," she began, her eyes scanning the sea of faces before her. "I'm endlessly grateful for your unwavering support, God knows I’ve needed it lately," a chuckle erupted in the crowd.

The room hung on her every word, and Jake, from his seat, felt a surge of pride for the woman who had once shared her dreams and fears with him.

As she navigated the speech, a captivating blend of sincerity and humility. “Oh, gosh, so many people to thank, I already know I’m going to forget a bunch” she rambled nervously, and slight laughter erupted in the room.

“I’d like to thank my manager, my crew, of course, my friends, my, uh,” her gaze instinctively found the members of the band, seated proudly at their table, “my family,” she winked at them with a chuckle. The boys shared a collective moment, blowing a kiss her way, their eyes gleaming with shared triumph.

She continued expressing gratitude to key figures in her life and career, the room buzzed with a contagious energy. With a confident smile, she concluded her speech, leaving the audience with a poetic resonance that lingered in the air.

__________

The grand finale of the event unfolded like the crescendo of a spectacular symphony. YN gracefully danced through the maze of flashing cameras to reach her awaiting car, a modern-day muse amidst the paparazzi chaos.

The band, too, exuding the effortless cool of rockstars, threaded through the sea of lights in a rhythmic procession.

The engines hummed in harmony, syncing with the pulsating energy of the night as they embarked on a journey through the neon-lit streets, where every flicker tells a story of fame, music, and the allure of the after-hours. The fleet of sleek, tinted cars converged, creating a glamorous caravan destined for the city's heartbeat—the long-anticipated after-party.

____________

The club's entrance radiated a neon glow as the members of Greta Van Fleet strode through the entrance, greeted by the pulse of bass and the vibrant hum of the crowd inside.

The venue, a chic downtown club, pulsated with an electrifying energy.  

The band navigated through the throng of A-listers, the air punctuated by laughter, clinking glasses, and the occasional flash of cameras capturing candid moments.

As the animated chatter and laughter enveloped the venue, Jake engaged in a riveting conversation with none other than Jimmy Page.

They were exchanging anecdotes when suddenly, the entrance erupted with cheers, prompting Jake to glance across the lively crowd. There, making a striking entrance, was YN, adorned in a sleek black dress, accompanied by her new beau. The cheers amplified as the couple embraced the spotlight, and Jake watched from afar.

Retreating from the buzzing atmosphere of the party, Jake immersed himself back into his captivating conversation with the guitarist. The exchange of musical tales continued to flow, momentarily sweeping away any unease lingering in his mind. However, after a while, he sensed the need for a change of scenery.

Making his way to the bar, he sought solace in the company of Sam and Danny. Ordering himself a whiskey, Jake leaned against the bar, the amber liquid a familiar comfort.

In the lively chatter of the party, he appreciated the anchor provided by his bandmates. Despite the external facade of confidence, Jake had never been much of a socialite, leaving that to his twin brother.

Events like these had a tendency to leave him longing for something stronger than whiskey, an itch he'd been trying to steer clear from for over two years now. Ever-mindful of the shadows that lingered within, he found relief in the presence of Sam and Danny.

Suddenly, Josh’s voice cut through the ambient noise. “There they are!” He led YN and Harry towards his bandmates, a grin on his face. As the trio made their way through the crowd, the anticipation among the band members heightened. Jake shifted slightly, his attention now fully on the approaching trio.

"Hey!” YN announced with an infectious enthusiasm as they reached the bar, “So, this is Harry," she squeezed her boyfriend’s arm, nervously, “And, Harry, this is the band.”

The boys exchanged pleasantries, Sam and Danny offering friendly smiles while Jake, not one to be overly expressive, extended a nod of acknowledgment.

Harry, ever the charmer, reciprocated the introductions with genuine warmth. "Pleasure to meet you all. YN's told me so much about you. Big fan.".

The exchange was cordial, and as it flowed, YN ensured everyone felt included. Harry, charismatic and engaging, effortlessly integrated into the circle, which seemed to make YN ecstatic.

As the conversation meandered through various topics, Harry turned to Jake and decided to share a common experience. "Love the long hair,” he remarked with a friendly grin, trying to strike a chord of camaraderie, “I used to rock it too, miss it sometimes."

Jake, initially caught off guard, responded with a hint of indifference, "Do you, now?" His tone, unintentionally brusque, drew a subtle side-eye from Josh, who discreetly stepped on his brother's foot, a non-verbal prompt to play nice. Caught in the act, Jake quickly corrected himself. "Well, short suits you, man,” he said softening his tone, “I've just always been too lazy to bother with haircuts, I guess."

            “If only Josh was the same,” Sam joked nudging Josh playfully, “I swear that one spends more time at the salon than the studio.” The tension diffused, and the conversation continued, albeit with a newfound awareness from Jake to navigate the social waters more gracefully.

The night continued its crescendo, the pulse of the party echoing through the lively venue. As Jake continued to sip on his drink at the bar, his gaze inadvertently gravitated toward YN and Harry. The duo, wrapped in the warmth of each other's company, seemed to float through the crowd.

The sight tugged at a spectrum of emotions within Jake’s inebriated mind. Harry's hand rested casually on her waist, a gesture that spoke volumes. Laughter flowed effortlessly between the two of them, creating an aura of intimacy that eclipsed the surrounding revelry.

The party unfolded in layers, each moment a brushstroke in the canvas of the night. Yet, beneath the surface of celebration, Jake couldn't shake the complex emotions that swirled within him. The alcohol served as a temporary buffer, but the currents of his contemplation ran deep, hidden beneath the veneer of the lively gathering.

Jake felt a sense of relief wash over him as he stepped into the cool night air, the bustling sounds of the lively club gradually fading behind him. Pulling out his phone, he swiftly ordered a cab to take him back to his sanctuary of solitude. Just as he confirmed the ride, YN's voice cut through the night.

"You're leaving, already?" she asked. Surprised, he turned around to meet her figure. Her eyes reflected a mix of curiosity and disappointment.

"Yeah,” he admitted, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “I'm exhausted."

Her gaze lingered on him, a subtle worry lingering in her expression. "You're not driving, are you?" she inquired after a moment, her concern tethered to memories of a past filled with reckless habits.

The weight of the implication made him sigh. "I ordered a cab," he reassured her, hoping to ease the concern etched on her face. Despite her attempts to appear nonchalant, the genuine worry in her eyes didn't escape him.

"Good," she nodded, a soft exhale escaping her lips. A brief pause filled the space between them before she added, "It's a shame you can't stay longer."

As the night air embraced them in a cocoon of quiet, Jake sensed the nervous energy radiating from YN. No words were needed to decipher the unspoken thoughts swirling in her mind. With a knowing smile, he addressed the unspoken concern.

"Tell Harry bye for me,” he said, his tone light and reassuring “he's a cool guy."

YN's face immediately lit up, gratitude and relief washing over her. "I will," she responded.

In the ensuing quiet, a gentle moment lingered between them. "Alright," Jake said, breaking the silence, "you should go back inside; you'll freeze to death out here."

"I'm okay," she insisted, a subtle shiver instantly betraying her words. Without hesitation, Jake peeled off his jacket, but just as he handed it to her, Harry's voice echoed from within the club, disrupting the tranquility.

"YN, love, are you coming back in?" Harry's call prompted a sudden pause in the exchange.

Realizing the implications of his gesture, Jake hesitated before gently urging her, "You should go." She looked at him hesitantly. "I'll be fine," he insisted, his eyes holding a quiet reassurance.

As she pondered, a gust of chilly night air swept through. The glow from the club's entrance cast a soft halo around her silhouette. The distant sounds of laughter and music from the after-party lingered, creating an ethereal backdrop to their conversation.

"Alright, but-” she hesitated, looking down, “that means I won’t see you before flying back,” she confessed, her voice holding a note of longing, the unspoken yearning for more time evident in her eyes.

“You’re not staying at the house?” Jake probed gently.

Her response wavered, caught in the delicate balance of unspoken truths. “No, I- uh,” she stumbled over the words. Realization dawned on him – Of course she would be staying in a hotel with Harry. “I-”

“Gotcha,” he interjected, sparing her the need to articulate the unspoken details. The ambient sounds of the night heightened the tension, the brief pause heavy with unspoken sentiments. A distant laugh, the muted beat of music, and the cool breeze carried a collective weight.

“YN?” Harry's voice echoed once more, a reminder of the reality waiting inside.

“I’m coming!” she shouted back. She turned her attention back to Jake, “So…” she said, “I’ll see you soon?” He nodded in response and she retraced her steps toward the illuminated entrance.

She stopped in the doorframe. “Jakey?” she called once more, her hesitancy palpable as he turned to face her again, “Take care, okay?”

He smiled. “You too,” he replied as she disappeared through the door, leaving him in the embrace of the quiet night, his thoughts as contemplative as the stars overhead.

Next Track: Style

Masterlist

Hope you liked it! Once again, I am begging you all to interact and leave comments it makes me so happy to get feedback and reactions xxx

Also, this is only the beginning lol. I have a billion drafts for other chapters so stay tuned, peaceful army.

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[mikaelsonstanaccount]

Klonnie Week Day 4: Enemies With Benefits 

    Bonnie stared at the man leaned against her door frame and a burning hatred erupted in her chest again. She swore the last time was the very last time she would see him but here he is. She even went as far to throw his number away but she gave in to the craving and called him again. She knew he was a piece of shit but he knew his way around her body better than any other man has. “Are you just going to stand there or are you going to let me in again? It would be easier if you just stopped using your witchy interference beloved.” Klaus smirked before he walked in. She simply rolled her eyes before crossing her arms.

    “I invited you over only to talk. I just want to know why you are running around with the ripper and what you two are doing together.” Bonnie said before sitting across from him. “Jealous love? It’s okay he could never take your place. Just my temporary plaything to spite my little sister.” Klaus smirked as he poured himself a glass of wine. “Wine? Or is this a very serious talk?” Klaus smirked as he passed her a glass of wine. She set the glass down and crossed her arms again. “Talk, or you’ll eat glass.” She spoke with annoyance laced in her voice. “What would you like me to say, my love? That I am on my best behavior and I am just going out with a friend? That we are actually on our best behavior and helping old ladies cross the street?” He smirked before taking a sip of his drink.

“I don’t know why I fucking called you! You are no fucking help! You know what?! Get out! I am trying to figure out why dead witches keep showing up in the streets and you are being a jackass!” Bonnie shouted, losing her temper. “Okay okay, I do apologize, my love. I can assure you that my friend and I are not misbehaving that far. We just get our fill and leave. I’m not sure why your friends are coming dead but we are not involved with that…well fully. I may have killed one or two but I promise no more than that.” Klaus spoke as he tried to grab her hand, Bonnie quickly snatched her hand away before turning her back to him.

She knew what was coming next. He would pull her body close, kiss her in all the right spots, and she would be suckred into his trap again. “Don’t be that way love. I promise you that we are not killing your friends. Also we have no way of tracking your friends down and killing them. Look at me.” Klaus spoke before grabbing her hand and pulling her close again. “Klaus I swear if you are lying to me-” Bonnie started before he shook his head. “Don’t you trust me love? When have I lied to you…outside of the other times I lied.” Klaus smirked before pulling her waist into his. “Niklaus” Bonnie warned before he let out a laugh. “I’m kidding, I assure you that I am telling you the truth.” He smiled before Bonnie felt herself slowly giving in.

She knew she was in too deep. He was too talented at what he did and she couldn’t help it. “See, I knew why you called.” Klaus smirked before slowly raking his fangs across the front of her neck. She shivered against his body before he left a hickey on the front of her neck. She bit her lip before moving her head so that he had more access. He started to move his attack around her neck, making sure everyone knew that she was his, “Bedroom” She mumbled before he picked her up with ease and carried her to her room.

After a night of passionate love making Bonnie couldn't help but to feel a tinge of pain in her heart. She knew that his trust issues would keep them from being together. He was too paranoid and she wasn't ready to deal with what came with it. They were opposites, she is the hero and he is the villain. She just turned her back to him and stared at the wall, trying to calm her heart. 

[myfaveficrecs]

Lavender Haze

Pairing: Jake x Reader

AN: Taylor Swift read that Lavender Haze was a term used in the 50′s when describing love, so I went with that. Thank you @cherrycola27​ for letting me be a part of your celebration!

Word Count: 1,238

Warnings: None, just a fluffy little one shot

You never realize how fast time passes you by until something happens to make you stop in your tracks. You’d never really celebrated much since your family died when you were so young. The only family you ever remember having is your current one. It has gotten smaller and smaller over the years, but it’s still your family.

Jake and his squadron have been in your life for ten years now, give or take a year. You love them all unconditionally and would do anything for them, and you have on more than one occasion. You just loved them differently. Phoenix was the one you went to for advice, Bob was your little brother in every sense of the word. Rooster was the one to tease you constantly, all in affection, of course. Coyote was the surprising one, the one you should not get along with, but you do. Your relationship was built around deep conversations, common interests, and a protectiveness that ran deeply. Your relationship with Jake, on the other hand, was built around passion, shared dreams, and a love that only grows more every day.

Jake loved you; you knew that. You also knew that it wasn’t something he could say often, fearing that the words would be followed by something tragic. You had learned to accept this little fact years ago, and it didn’t bother you like it would most women. Jake showed you through his actions just how much he loved you. Sharing the last of his meal, knowing your moods better than even you did, making sure your favorite snacks were always well stocked in the kitchen and your locker at work…hell, he even let you drive his truck.

Waking up this morning you knew something was off because you woke up alone. You could count on one hand the number of times Jake had left the bed before you were awake, wanting to hold you as long as he possibly could before the real world came crashing down around the both of you. Reaching over you felt the cold sheets and knew he had been up for a while, which only confused you more. You quickly got out of bed, throwing on Jake’s sweater to ward off the chill, and making your way down the halls in search of your missing husband.

Searching in all of the usual places, you still had yet to find him. You didn’t know whether you should be worried or pissed off at this point. What if he was in pain again? It wouldn’t be the first time he hadn’t woken you to tell you about it. Walking back down the hall you passed Coyote in the guest room just as he opened up his door.

“Mornin’ Y/N”

“Good morning, Javy. Have you seen Jake at all this morning? I can’t find him anywhere.”

“Uh, yeah. He ran to the market about an hour ago, should be back soon.”

“The market? This early?” You furrowed your brow in confusion, your voice laced with disbelief. Jake never made runs that early in the morning without you tagging along.

“Yeah. He’ll be back soon, don’t worry.” Giving you the patented smirk, they all seemed to carry, and patting your shoulder, he quickly escaped your questioning gaze, making his way to the kitchen where breakfast sounded wonderful. Shaking your head, you decided to go through with your morning routine, and you would just question Jake when you saw him. First, you needed a bath before you could really start your day.

The bath unfortunately wasn’t as peaceful as you are used to experiencing. No matter what you did you couldn’t stop wondering what Jake was doing and why was he being so sneaky about it. By the time you were finished you didn’t realize how irritated you were becoming until it slammed into you like a freight train while brushing your teeth. Hearing the door creak and slam, you rinsed out your mouth and practically jogged to meet Jake, determined to find out why he was being secretive.

“Woah, hello my love. Where’s the fire?” Jake asked while putting some bags onto the kitchen counter and taking off his jacket.

“Where were you?” He froze at the tone of your voice, analyzing your posture and trying to figure out what exactly had set you off so early. Then it suddenly hit him, you didn’t know what day it was which made him let out a little laugh and quickly embrace you into his strong arms.

“What are you laughing at, Jake?” You fisted your hands into his tshirt, loving the feel of him against you. It was a feeling you didn’t think you would ever grow tired of. His body was firm and soft at the same time, broad and slender, just the perfect enigma.

“I’m laughing at you, my love. Do you know what today is?” The cocky smirk on his face only furthered your frustration and confusion as you mentally ticked through the days, trying to see if you had missed an important appointment or birthday. Taking pity on you, Jake squeezed you tighter against him with one arm and used his other hand to lift your chin, placing a chaste kiss to your pouted lips. “Happy 10 years, my love.”

“10 years?”

“Yes…it’s been 10 years to the day since I grew some balls and made you mine…I know we don’t really celebrate anything but I figure 10 years is a celebratory milestone, so I went out to get some stuff to make you breakfast myself. Eggs, bread, apples, and I got that stupid honey you like to put on your bread.”

You could see the slight unsureness in his eyes, that maybe this had been a bad idea, but it most certainly was not. The idea that Jacob Seresin of all people remembered something as silly as an anniversary with the lives you lead, made you tear up in the best way possible.

“That’s perfect, Jake…thank you.” You quickly pulled his lips down to your own, giving him a passionate kiss and only pulling away when the lack of oxygen became apparent. The glazed look in his eyes were enough to make you let out an uncharacteristic giggle which only made him smile in return at your happiness.

“Well if that’s the thanks I get for breakfast I’m gonna start cooking more often.”

“There’s plenty more where that came from, husband.” You cocked an eyebrow to emphasize your innuendo, loving the way his face lit up at the prospect of getting you in bed sooner rather than later.

“I am counting on it, wife. But first, breakfast!” A quick kiss to your forehead and he was off to the kitchen, eagerly using the ingredients. You couldn’t help but smile as you looked at the love of your life cooking for you while humming along to Lavender Haze.

“Jake?” Looking over his shoulder he gave you a quick smile.

“Yes, my love?”

“I love you too.”

With a quick wink and smile, he turned back to the task at hand and your smile widened. You didn’t know what you had done in life to get so lucky but you were thanking your lucky stars for 10 wonderful years. Walking up behind him and wrapping your arms around his waist, you whispered out a wish that you had no doubt would come true, “Here’s to 10 more.”

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[iisasarcasticlittleshite]

Can you please write Solomon from obey me with prompt number 38? Like basically Solomon was comforting reader from a fight with the brothers and he says ‘I got you, I always got you.’ But then you say ‘who’s got you?’ And he just stays silent afterward. You realize he needs comfort probably as much as you do and really soft and gentle sex pursues 😭 I also REALLY love your work! <<3

Solomon knew something was very wrong the second he got within a hundred yards of the House of Lamentation, because he could hear the yelling.

Voices muddled, overpowering each other, pourred from the house, and Solomon picked up the pace as he remembered you are still in there.

He rounds the corner just in time to see you slam the front door behind you, so hard the hinges rattled in your wake as you hurled yourself down the stairs and past the iron gates, unseeing as you ran straight into Solomon's chest.

A beat of silence in the House was shattered by more yelling, this time, Solomon can just about make out Mammon's voice, and Lucifer's, but he's not concerned with those brothers right now.

Your eyes are glassy, but you've refused to let the tears roll down your reddened cheeks as your eyes widened in surprise.

Solomon smiled, but sadly, and quickly pulled you the hell away from the chaos being raised behind you as the fallen angels struggled to find their footing.

All you'd done was help them, and with each passing day, Solomon feels more and more put off as those demons don't seem to have the foggiest idea what lengths you're willing to go to for them.

So he takes you home, and the moment you're behind closed doors, those tears started falling, soaked up by Solomon's clothes as he pulled you close, crushing you to his chest until you could barely fill your lungs.

You held him just as tightly without a word of complaint, breathing his scent in deep as you struggled to get control of yourself.

Solomon felt your shoulders shake between breaths, he knows you're trying desperately to claw yourself back together from whatever it is you've been put through now. He tries so hard not to hold anything against the brothers, tries so hard not to be bitter, for your sake, because you love them so damn much, but this...every time you have to put the pieces back together, it kills him.

"I've got you." He murmured into the crown of your head, a silent tear rolling down his cheek, sinking into your hair. "I've always got you."

Your grip on him tightened, but you raised your chin, looked up at him openly with those crystalline eyes, eyes that won the hearts of so many, eyes that commanded his very breath.

Solomon swore you could see into his soul with those eyes, lay him bare to your kindness, your mischief.

This, this is why he cannot hate the brothers, because he knows just how powerless you make him, and in this time, they aren't ready to give you that control.

"But, who's got you?"

Four words and you had him on his knees, had his every emotion pinned down in his eyes, helpless as he dug the pads of his fingers into you and clung on for dear life, as if you'd slip away, or be stolen by some oblivious demon with no idea how much you loved them.

You had him, how could you not know that?

You had him when you were at your brightest, all jokes and laughs without a care to be seen.

You had him at your strongest, sadistic and smirking with the world at your feet.

And you had him now, with tear tracks drying on your cheeks and your lips glistening from the moisture, bruised from you biting at them.

But Solomon can't say that, so he kissed you instead, so fiercely he nearly sent you tumbling as he leaned into you, walking you backward until his hand found the wall, but his passion soon simmered down to painful affection as he lost himself to the swell of his heart.

Your hands were achingly gentle as you cupped his cheek, drawing him in, as if he would ever leave.

It was you who found the clarity to drag him to your bedroom, where he slept most nights since he's already turned his room into a laboratory/library.

The Witty Sorcerer let you lay him out atop your sheets as he stole the taste of you from your lips, your neck, and with every breathless gasp he stole from you, you gave back.

A snap of his fingers, and the clothes would have been gone, but he didn't, he let your hands wander, let you explore every inch of exposed skin as if it were your first time, savouring every second you spent learning the shape of him all over again.

He traced the dips and curves of you as you leisurely exposed each other, no magic, no demons, no time travel, just you.

By the time he sank into you, Solomon forgot which way was up, which world or reality he called his own. He decided, then and there, that he doesn't care what time he's in, so long as you're in it.

Spread beneath him, legs wrapped around him, meeting every languid thrust as you clung to him, a thousand years of life fade clear out of Solomon's head.

All he knows is you, the sweet sighs you breathe against his lips, the crescents of your nails digging into his shoulders, the tightness and warmth of you as you sing his name and drag him over the edge with you.

You, are every kind of paradise he could ever imagine.

[buckyshusband0]

ᴅᴀɴɢᴇʀᴏᴜꜱ ᴅᴇꜱɪʀᴇꜱ

Requested: Yes or No | Original Request

Summary: Ari Levinson, the land's most feared biker, has fallen in love. He was smitten by you. The biker has a bad boy image to keep, but what happens when Ari can no longer control his dangerous desires for you? At a bar, the lead singer.

Pairing: Biker!Ari Levinson x Singer!Male Reader (Biker AU) 

Word count: 4.2k // all mistakes I own

Warnings: +18, Smut, Fluff, Slight Angst, mentions of abuse, unprotected sex, Ari being a big softie around reader, possessive Ari, passionate/rough smut, abusive father, body worshiping (both receiving), biting, daddy kink, praising, size kink, pet names (sweetheart & pretty baby), attempted SA, dirty talking, mature themes. 

A/N: First Ari fic. Honestly love the Biker AU so I might have to do it again some other time. Also, I reached 800 followers so I would like to thank you all for the support and love!! Enjoy my loves! Reblogs and comments are appreciated💙!!

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

YOUR hands grasped the microphone stand as you swallowed the — now growing — lump in your throat. You were currently practicing for a new song you had written. Hoping for a miracle to be played.

Making music has always been one of your talents. Your mother was the one who first brought you music's wonderful gift. She had always been there to support you when you reached your goals. When a terrible—awful accident—occurred, everything changed.

Your light had dimmed into darkness. 

You had brought her a beautiful black silk dress that she wore the night of the accident. Her friends had gotten drunk—except for her—and one of them crashed into someone else’s car. Very tragic. 

Your damaged mind is still haunted by the events of that dreadful night. Waiting for her to return, as you had expected. To greet her and offer her the warmest hug you've ever experienced. However, you can no longer do so. Because she's gone and will never return.

Your (e/c) eyes welled up with tears as the thought of her not being here to assure you that everything would be fine entered your brain. 'Stop it (y/n).  She wouldn't want you to cry for her.' As your eyes closed, your lips pressed into a thin line — Thinking the pain away. 

The terrible — maybe even corrupted — thoughts scattered away like mice running from their predator as your phone started to ring. Your brows furrowed as the unknown caller brightened your screen. 

Without another thought, you answered the call and brought it to your ear. “Hello?” The sound of light music could be heard from the other side of the call. “Hi, is this (y/n) (y/l/n)?” The deep voice spoke up. Confused as ever, you answered. “Yes, this is he.” 

“Well, I actually wanted to know if you would sing at my bar ‘Neon Lounge?’ I’ve heard your voice online, and I would love for you to sing here tonight.” You had a surge of excitement coursing through your veins. The idea of others seeing your talent made your lips part. 

Neon Lounge was one of the most well-known bars in town, even if you were relatively new to the ― reclusive — town. It was a privilege to be able to perform in a bar in the heart of downtown. Your lips parted in a delighted sigh at the thought of singing your song there.

Mom would be so proud. 

As you thought about her, the silence in the small room deepened. Your dreadful thoughts had been pulled back to reality by the deep voice. “Yes! I'll do it.  See you at 9:30?" You questioned your new boss for the day — or so you had thought. You threw your phone into the silky gray sheets of your bed as soon as he agreed. There’s that hope.

You darted around your room as you got dressed. The outfit pleasing you. You left the room and ran downstairs — the unpleasant scent of alcohol alluring the air. You froze in your tracks when you heard your horrible drunk abusive father yell out to you. Fucking hell. 

Your father had gotten incredibly drunk after hearing the news of your mother—his wife—passing away. He really loved her, which is the sad part. The punches, the hard grounding kicks, you had taken it all. “Stop crying like a fucking pussy, my son, men don’t cry.” Those words traumatized you and rung into your delicate mind ever since. 

You always hid in your darkroom. Too afraid to face the man who was so-called claimed as your “father.” You let out a nervous sigh as you turned to the not-so sober man sitting down on the chair. 

“I’m going out to get food, dad.” Dad. Could you even call the man who held sinful thoughts that name? Dads are supposed to protect and care, not abuse and starve their children to death. He glared his brown eyes at you before opening his mouth to speak. 

“Don’t be late, or I’ll kill your ass. Understand son?” He grumbled under his breath — still loud enough for you to hear. “Yes, father.” You grasped the golden knob in your shaky palm as your feet begin to walk on the rough concrete ground. ‘Don’t cry (y/n). Men don’t cry.’ 

Tears threaten to leave your (e/c) eyes. You attempted to see the bright side. You'll finally be living the life you've always wanted. If your mother had been here, she would have encouraged you. Rooting for you. 'I'm doing this for both you and me, mom' Your smile grew.

✰ -- --- --- -- ✰

The roaring sound of bikes filled the air.

The motorized bikes' engines blasted smoke out of them. The bright headlights from the jet-black motorcycles that carried the motorcyclists lightened the dark—somewhat lit—wet, mucky road.

Ari Levinson, the town's most well-known biker, parked his motorcycle outside of the brightly lit bar. Because of his broad, towering stance, he was constantly dreaded by the townspeople. His menacing stare would make a child cry as if he had stolen his lollipop.

Ari's biker gang, whose broad bodies were clothed in black leather jackets with a symbol on them — signifying how serious the gang was — followed suit as his feet made contact with the wet surface. The manly aroma Ari drew from his body had made the bar quieter.

The — almost silent — wood plank floor creaked under his heavy feet. He gave a sharp nod to the bartender whose forehead was gleaming with nothing but sweat. He’d hurried to get a beer for Ari. 

Ari and his biker gang — especially the gang — were completely wasted after a few drinks. As jokes were thrown around and more beers were handed out, the bar erupted in manly laughter. Everyone's attention was drawn to a deep voice that rang through their ears.

Everyone's eyes narrowed when they saw Vincent, the bar's all-knowing manager. He cleared his throat before speaking to the focused crowd. “Good evening, everyone. Tonight, we have a special guest singing for us. Please welcome, (y/n) (y/l/n)!” 

The sound of hands clapping together as you came out onto the stage made a big smile appear on your face. A man with dark blue eyes and brown long hair felt butterflies reach inside his gut without your notice. Ari Levinson, the bad boy, had gotten butterflies.

He had never gotten butterflies...

You were the most beautiful boy he had ever seen in his whole life. He wanted — scratch that — Needed to have you as his. The way your lips parted as you began to sing those beautiful lyrics. 

Ari had felt not only butterflies, but his cock had hardened as your whole presence went from the nervous shy boy to this confident and flirty man who wasn’t afraid of anyone’s opinions. His lips were slightly parted from seeing you sway your hips to the song. 

Your eyes opened as you scanned the whole bar’s audience. As the flirty lyrics escaped from your wet lips, your (e/c) eyes made contact with the stormy blue eyes that held something questionable — Something dangerous. Although every man was basically gawking at you, the man who screamed danger had gotten your attention. 

He was so in love. 

You gave a shy smile to the crowd whose cheers were louder than your average soccer mom cheering for her children as soon as the last line left your lips. "Thank you, everyone!" You walked off the stage and straight to Ari's demise — he couldn't find you.

As he searched the entire bar for you, a sense of despair ran through his frigid veins. He was desperate to speak with the boy who could have been his entire future. That is until his sight was drawn to Vincent, who was currently flirting with a blushing woman.

Vincent then soon felt a hard tap on his broad shoulder. As he was about to curse whoever dared to touch him — his whole body shuddered, and his eyes screamed fear. Fear from Ari Levinson.

“Is he coming back?” Was all Ari had to say for Vincent to know who was speaking about. He wanted to refuse, but who could find the courage to refuse such a dangerous man who was feared by all? Vincent nodded quickly, attempting to escape his grasp.

Ari had the same butterflies he had when he first saw your frame go onto the stage. As he considered meeting you, a smile spread across his flawlessly chiseled face. He was certain of one thing, and one thing only — He was going to make you his and only his.

✰ -- --- --- -- ✰

Darkness took over the clear night sky. 

Your arms hugged your body from the shivering weather tonight. Your black guitar case was also held close to your body as you walked against the hard concrete. You had just sung a song. 

Somehow, Mr. Vincent let you sing again at his well-known bar which had taken you by surprise. You would be forever grateful for him giving you another chance to sing another song. You were startled by the sound of muttering coming from the alleyway's corner.

The sight of six towering, black figures emerging from the corner made you furrow your brows. As you watched them creep closer to you, you swallowed a lump that had formed in your throat. “Hi, there baby~,” One of the creepy guys dressed in all black said to you.

Fuck... ‘Someone save me.’ 

Your back had hit the hard, rough brick wall that was covered in graffiti as the gang of men approached you. "Please, don't touch me!" As one of the men gripped your arm forcefully, you yelled out. The agony caused a little yelp to escape from your dry parted lips.

Tears stained your cheeks as the men held you against the wall and began to pull your pants down. You hoped — Just really hoped — that someone would save your poor helpless soul from the danger. 

You heard a voice, but it wasn't just any voice; it was a manly, raspy, deep voice that came from behind the men. When one of the men who was holding you looked back, you could see a glimmer of panic — fear even — in their eyes. "Mr. Levinson... We were just-" The god-like figure, who stood taller than them all, cut the stuttering man off.

“I don’t care what the fuck you were doing. All I know is you all better back the fuck away from him before I get violent.” The man you knew as Mr. Levinson seethed through his teeth. You gulped from nervousness as the man whose eyes were a dangerous blue stalked closer to you and the men. To your surprise, they all backed away. 

The men who were about to do horrible — traumatizing actions ran away like pussies when Ari stared deep into their souls. You wiped the tears that escaped your eyes as Ari makes his way over to you. 

“Hey, you okay?” Ari asked with a hint of worry in his tone. Even though the man had saved you — you weren’t sure if you could trust him. Ari could see what you were basically thinking and needed to confront your thoughts. “I won’t hurt you, I promise. The name’s Ari.” 

As he saw you relax into his strong arms, he offered you a big, happy smile. "(y/n) is my name." He already knew that — let's just say Ari was conducting some research on you. He needed to know what you liked and disliked before he could introduce himself.

He loves you that much.

Ari wanted to protect you from all dangers, just like he had done moments before, and keep you for himself. When you stepped back from his embrace, his body felt cold—the warm feeling gone. He already missed you. When he came up with an idea, his mind lit up.

“Sweetheart, it’s pretty late at night. How’re you getting home?” Goosebumps raised onto your (s/c) skin from the pet name. Fuck he was so sweet. “I was going to walk-” Ari cut you off.

“I’ll take you home. I’ll drive my motorcycle.” Before you could protest, the man had put his veiny strong hand on your lower back as he guided you to his jet-black motorcycle. Your arms wrapped around Ari’s waist and that fuzzy, chilling, warm feeling had come back. 

You gently climbed off the bike as soon as you arrived outside your house. You flashed Ari a small shy smile as you considered what to say to him. "Thank you for the ride, Ari." You heard the deep manly voice calling out for you as you approached the front door.

“Can I maybe get your number?” Ari asked, his voice strained. You didn't think twice about grasping his phone and putting your number. "Bye, Ari." Ari grinned and gazed at you with admiration. "Goodnight, sweetheart." Sweetheart. You reached the wooden front door after hearing his motorcycle engine roar as you walked into your home.

✰ -- --- --- -- ✰

One week has gone by. 

One long week since Ari Levinson saved you and one long week since you gave the man your number. Every night after your long shift, Ari would always be waiting for you outside the night. 

Every time he would pick you up, you would feel the same butterflies that roamed around your stomach when just seeing him in your sight. You had always told him about your day, and he would always listen — That’s what you loved about the tall, strong man. 

He listens. 

This returns you to the present moment. Ari stood outside the bar waiting for you. He was finally going to ask the big — well not that big — question. Your guitar hugged close to your body as you see the man who would corrupt your — not so innocent — thoughts. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” Ari hovered over your smaller frame and gently stroked his fingertip against your cheek. The warm gesture caused your face to warm with heat. "Hi, Ari. " You questioned the man, who had a gleam in his eyes that you couldn't quite place.

Ari swallowed the thick lump growing in his throat thinking about the question. Ari Levinson was nervous? That’s a first. “I actually wanted to ask you a question,” You raised your eyebrow at him — signaling him to continue. “Would you like to go on a date with me?” 

As that question escaped from your lips, you couldn’t be even happier that the man who has been on your mind 24/7 asked you out. Although Ari has had a bad reputation for being the bad boy of the town, you had noticed the man was nothing, but kind to you. Who wouldn’t accept his gesture? “I would love to, Ari.” You smiled at him. 

Ari felt his dark heart spring out of his chest, only to be consumed by light — that light being you. The words you spoke allowed him to experience an emotion he had never experienced before. Love. Ari Levinson had had an overwhelming feeling of love consume him.

✦ 1 hour time skip ✦

As you returned from your date with Ari, you stepped out of the — cozy and small — diner. He stayed by your side as you both walked back to his motorcycle, which you had taken a liking to. You felt Ari's firm hands hold your hips as he assisted you aboard the bike.

When Ari drove off onto the — rough, patchy, and concrete — road, you begin to wonder where the man was taking you. It was sure not home because it wasn’t the normal route you would usually go on. “Where are we going, Ari?” You puzzled the man in front of you. 

“You’ll see sweetheart.” 

Your (e/c) eyes soon met the amazing view of a red blanket laid down on the prickly green grass. There was a fine bottle of wine with two glasses and a small red velvet cake. You looked back to Ari — who was already looking at you with full compassion. 

“Ari... this is amazing!” You jumped upon Ari and around his waist with your legs. His eyes were wide with surprise, but he quickly covered it up with a smile. You both lay down on the blanket after jumping off the man, calmly admiring the gleaming stars above you.

The view was breathtaking, but it was Ari who stole the show in your eyes. The way he had treated you with kindness — even love — made you feel wanted. The sight of Ari placing his palm on top of yours made your stomach flutter with unwanted butterflies.

As you looked away, Ari smirked at the idea that had made its way to his mind. “Why don’t we leave and go to my house?” Your head snapped towards Ari and a frown grew onto your face. 

Ari was terrified, hoping he hadn't said anything wrong to you. Ari had no desire to harm a helpless little angel like you. “I-I can’t.” You responded to the man. You quickly added to what you said before he could question, which you knew by the look of confusion on his face. "My father." Your eyes prickled with tears as your body grew hot.

Just the thought of him made you cry. 

“What about your father, may I ask?” Ari questioned you calmy — not wanting to make it look like he was forcing you to answer him. You sniffled before answering. “He’s abusive. If I don’t go home, he’ll hurt me, or worse.” Your bottom lip trembled from the wicked thought. 

Ari felt anger grow through his — now steaming hot — veins as he heard those words slip from your lips. The thought of someone hurting his angel made him feel an emotion he had never once felt with someone else. But Ari remembered he needed to stay calm. 

He brought your head into his firm chest as you cried into it. He whispered nothing but soothing things trying to calm you down. “I’ll take care of him, sweetheart. Okay? You can stay at my house for as long as you need.” Ari laid a gentle kiss on top of your head. 

You'd learned to trust the man who was now calming you, to the point where you'd trusted him with your life. That says a lot. Ari didn't hesitate to pick you up bridal style and bring you back to his bike when you nodded. You drove off the terrain, eager to get to his house.

✰ -- --- --- -- ✰

Ari unlocked his wooden front door. 

You were greeted by the — rather amazingly — smell of Ari’s scent when you entered his apartment. His apartment was decorated with a light grey wallpaper with some paintings planted on them.

Turning around, you faced Ari who was looking down at you with a dangerous gaze — a lustful gaze. “Ari? Are you-” You were cut off when you felt a pair of pink plump lips connect with yours. Your eyes widened, but you soon returned the kiss that was filled with lust. 

Ari’s strong arms had wrapped themselves around your hips and picked you up — making your legs wrap around his waist. The feeling of butterflies roamed around both of your stomachs from the delicate touch that was caused by the man who was carrying you. 

As they entwined together in motion, your tongues practically danced. Ari carefully placed you on the bed and slowly removed your shirt and pants. His lustful blue eyes inspected every single mark and scar on your body as if he had just discovered a hidden treasure. "So beautiful..." You sensed the same butterflies reappear again.

Oh, my fucking God... 

He used his palm to grasp your knee and picked it up slowly. Eye contact never breaking — you could feel his tight bulge hit your plump ass as he moved around. You let out a soft moan, which made the dangerous man who was eye-fucking you let out a deep grunt. 

“Can you feel what you’re doing to me, pretty baby?” You nodded slowly at the man’s words, but then felt another poke. “I need you to use your words, (y/n)~” You took your bottom lip between your teeth — most likely drawing blood from said action. “Yes, Ari...” 

The things this man was doing to you on the inside were so indescribable. The way Ari’s soft fingertips moved around your whole body made you feel warm inside. Not only did you feel these dangerous feelings, but Ari also felt them. The sound of your moans...

Like angels were singing a beautiful song. 

He twisted you around, so your ass was facing him without warning, and your body shivered beneath Ari's touch as he rubbed his gentle fingertips against your hole. "Open your legs for me, pretty baby." You did as he said, your eyes widen when you feel his tongue enter you.

“Fuck, daddy~” Ari’s deep grunt made vibrations enter your body as he heard the name, which he never thought you would say — and he fucking loved it. His tongue attacked your wet walls and your toes curled from the euphoric feeling he had been causing. 

“Please don’t stop...” You pleaded to Ari who was giving you the best feeling you hadn’t felt in months — years maybe. But to your despise, he parted his tongue from your soaked hole which made a soft whine escape your lips. You didn’t know what his game was

— But it was working. 

“Be patient, pretty baby... Daddy’s going to take care of you, okay?” You nodded but remembered he didn’t like your silence. “Yes, daddy.” Ari licked his plump bottom lip as he took his throbbing cock from his tight pants and gave it a few teasing strokes. He was so big. 

“Ari, I don’t think it’ll fit.” Your voice held fear from the thought of dying from the dangerous man’s cock. A chuckle escaped his lips from your trembling words. “I’ll make it fit~” Ari slowly entered himself into you. A loud moan escaped your lips from the feeling. 

Your back arched as Ari’s nails dug deep into your hips as he thrusts from a slow to fast pace. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head from the tender actions. Your knees trembled as you felt a rough smack on your left side ass cheek — which Ari had caused. 

Ari held your body in his broad arms as bent over more. He took your right ear in between his lips, and he gently nibbled on it. The room was filled with the sounds of skin smacking against skin, as Ari slammed more and more into your body. You felt the rush of your desired orgasm coming in as the blue-eyed man hit your prostate.

“You’re mine, pretty baby... All mines~” You held your moan back from the possessiveness that filled Ari’s tone when he had said what he said. “Ari... I want to cum!” Your whine made Ari’s desires come true. “You’re going to cum with me, okay pretty baby?” You nodded. 

You could feel the man’s cock twitch in your hole as his chest heaved up and down from the feeling of his orgasm reaching a finish. His hands grasped your hair tightly to add more friction as he finally felt himself about to explode deep inside of your trembling form. 

“Cum, pretty baby. Cum with daddy~”

Without waiting for another second, you felt your cock leak cum — which made a loud moan escape your lips. Ari’s deep moans filled your ears as the marks he left on your ass turned him on even more. He finally let his cock explode deep into your prostate. 

Heavy breaths could be heard from the both of you as he gently and slowly took himself out of you. Sweat covered both of your bodies as you laid down on his soft bed that had a black blanket.

“Thank you, Ari. For everything I mean.” You said as you laid your head on the man’s hairy soft chest. He gave you a small smile and gave you a small kiss on the top of your head. “You’re welcome, (y/n). I’m always here for you, okay?” You smiled gently and nodded at Ari. 

‘I love him so much...”

Your thoughts were cut off by a deep chuckle that came from the man you were laying on. “Did I hear that correctly, sweetheart?” Your eyebrows furrowed from his words, but then you realized. “What are you— Shit. Did I say that out loud?” Your face heated from embarrassment, but the words that you heard next left you in shock. 

“I love you too, sweetheart. Until the day that I die, I won’t leave your side.” The softness from Ari’s voice made the same butterflies come back to your stomach. Who would have known you would fall in love with the man who was feared by all, the knowing biker, Ari Levinson. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──���

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[bobbyseyesmile]

Pride and Passion | 10

Chapter 10

⤝ Previous chapter | Next chapter ⤞ ➻ Pride and Passion masterlist

“You know he’s using you, right?” the deep voice rumbled through your head and kept you awake for the second night in a row.

“Shut up. You’re not real.” You whispered back, eyes closed and silently hoping the voice would just disappear.

“I’m as real as you want me to be, girl. Tell me-“ the voice stopped and suddenly appeared in the other corner of the room. “…what is it with you and toxic men?”

You didn’t want to but a small snort escaped you. How ironic, how true… “Funny thing coming from you.”

“Heh, what can I say? Little bit proud of my work here.”

“What work?” you answered, scolding yourself. Stop it- he wasn’t real.

“Ya know, creating a tough little bitch.”

You opened your eyes and scanned the room. Of course, there was no one there but still, you didn’t feel alone. How could you- the demons of your past where with you all the time. “You didn’t create me. I did all that myself, it was my choice to kill you.”

Shane’s raspy laugh appeared behind you. “That you did.” You closed your eyes, waiting for something to happen, a touch, a light breeze, anything. “And I enjoyed every second of it, baby.”

“Stop it.” A small laugh escaped your lips. “I didn’t.”

“Because ya loved me. Because ya still do.”

“I don’t.”

“Why? Because there’s another big bad man?”

“Because you tried to kill my dad…” painful memories filled your head and you rubbed your eyes, hoping they would disappear. “And because-“

A sudden knock silenced you mid-sentence. You hesitated at first but after a few moments got up and opened the wooden door. “Yes?”

“You alright?”

You didn’t know what to answer. No, you were not okay but there was no energy to explain that so you just said: “Why?”

Negan raised an eyebrow and scanned your room with a quick glance. “Hmm… maybe because you were talking to yourself, obviously?”

“I was not-“ you started but then stopped. What could you possibly say- I am not talking to myself but my dead boyfriend who haunts me? Nah, better not. „Yeah, I‘m okay.“

Negan knew it was a lie, your face was all flustered, even scared. Like you’ve just seen a ghost. “And you’re absolutely and unchangeably sure about that, doll?”

“Y-yes.” you whispered but didn’t dare to look at his face. You were too scared to lose it, too scared to explain what was really going on but there was just no way you could ever talk about Shane…

Negan watched carefully while you turned around, scanning your room. There was no one there. “Did you eat?”

His questions made you uneasy, your head was already confused enough. “N-no.”

“Then let’s go.” he grabbed your hand, joyfully whistling some melody that was unfamiliar to your ears and strolled towards the canteen.

“I am not hungry, Negan.”

“I know that feeling. You should still eat something- you already lost a few pounds since you moved here.”

“How long has it been?” you asked and suddenly stopped in your tracks. Negan stopped as well but was still holding your hand. He simply didn’t want to let go of you, fuck, all he wanted was to hold you in his arms.

“Four months.” he answered and your expression changed. It seemed like you were about to cry.

“I bet she can’t remember me anymore…” you whispered and hid your face in your hands; tears forming in the corner of your eyes.

“’Scuse me?” he asked.

“Judith…” you answered, unable to form another sentence.

“The baby?” Negan stroked his beard. “Cute thing, held her a few weeks back.”

Your head snapped upwards, looking into his dark eyes. “You h-held her?” He nodded. “How is she?! Is she healthy? Is there enough food?”

“Calm down, sweetheart.” He let out a low chuckle. “The baby is fine. Everyone in Alexandria is just fine.”

You really wanted to believe it, you needed to believe it. For all you knew they could be dead and Negan would lie straight to your face.

“And I have to say-“he started, reaching for your hand and softly caressing the skin with his thumb “They also look better than you. Christ, honey, you have to eat.”

You shook your head and wiped the tears away that still kept flowing like a goddamn waterfall. “I don’t want to…”

“Y/N-“ his voice was serious. You didn’t care. You simply couldn’t care. There you were: Away from your people, seeing and hearing your dead boyfriend. It was too much. But Negan didn’t know all this and slowly started to lose his patience, he wanted to keep you alive and well.

You sank down on the dirty floor, uncontrollably crying and sobbing now. He just stood there and had to watch. “If you eat…” he started but stopped mid-sentence. Should he really? Oh, fuck it, how bad could it be. “…I’ll let you come to Alexandria for the run this afternoon.”

You carefully looked up into his eyes and tried to understand the words that just left his mouth. “What?”

“You heard me, darling. Eat and you can come.” His plan and motives didn’t matter right now, important was to get you fed and cleaned up. Nothing else had a higher priority.

“You’re just saying that, like you always say things but never mean them!” A few tears dripped down your chin and he tried very hard not to kneel and wipe them away.

“I promise, Y/N.” Normally you wouldn’t give two shits about Negan’s “promises” but something in his voice made you believe him. Could he really mean it? You still sat on the floor when he held his hand out for you to take it. You hesitated at first but decided to take his hand and in one smooth motion, he had you back up on your feet.

“You eat, I’ll explain the rules, ya hear me?” he asked and you nodded. The following hour you fought with the massive amount of food that Negan picked out for you. When you managed to eat half of it, he finally let you go to clean up before you would see your family again.

Usually when Negan brought his wives along, they had to look pretty because he just loved to show them off. Of course, he fidgeted with the thought of you in a tight dress, high heels- showing you off in front of your whiney Daddy. It made him chuckle thinking about Ricks possible reactions. But something held him back. He didn’t want to show you off; sure, he wanted everybody to know that you were his but the dress and heels weren’t really your type. And as unbelievably sexy as you looked, the jeans and shirt you always wore made him just as hard as a tight ass dress.

“Fuck…” he groaned and tried to push the sinful thoughts away. Negan wasn’t stupid. He knew there was a possibility that you hate him forever, that you’d never give him permission to touch you- but something in your eyes reminded him that maybe it wasn’t hate that made you constantly run from him.

A shy knock made his stomach all jumpy. Ah shit, he had it bad for you… “Come in.”

“Hi.” You managed to say and gave him a small smile. Negan bit his tongue when he saw the shorts and the tight top you decided to wear. Your eyes followed him and quickly explained: “My usual pants weren’t dry yet… I had to borrow this from the laundry room…”

“It’s fucking fine.” He chuckled and stood up. “Ready to go?”

You were more than ready and tried to calm your excessively beating heart down- it felt like it would jump straight outta your chest. But something held you back instead of jumping up and down. Negan saw your hesitation and carefully lifted your chin so you would look at him. “Not ready?”

“I-“ you started and tried to swallow the lump in your throat. “I’m just afraid that if I see them again, I don’t want to leave… I wanna stay there.”

“Well…” he sighed deeply and let go of your face. “That is a very likely possibility. You still have to come back with me though, princess.”

You just nodded. Of course, you knew. He would have never allowed you to stay in Alexandria. “Can I-“ you stopped when he turned around, his intense eyes lingering on you “Maybe in the future I could stay there a bit longer than just for a few hours? Like, for a night or so?”

“Y/N…” he warned and you quickly added “Just think about it, okay? No need to decide now.”

“You know I would stay there too for the night, right? Cause I can’t let you out of my sight. You know that?” Your head nodded slowly, unsure what he meant. “So, we would have to share a room, a bed even. You really want that?” Negan’s eyes were serious but you heard the mischievous tone in his voice. When you wouldn’t reply immediately, he started to laugh.

“Oh shit! You’re really thinking about it, aren’t you? You would share a bed with me just so you could stay there a bit longer!” Your cheeks started burning and you looked down. Well, it wasn’t the best option. It was not the worst one as well…

“If that’s what it takes…” you whispered and stared at his lips.

“Hmm…” His smile widened before he said: “Let’s go.” His hand on the small of your back when he guided you out of his room saying: “Let’s talk about it later…”

Taglist: @toxic-ink @jaywinchestersalvatore @crosshajr @neganswoman @tone-stark @missmiauz @ellablossom @abbiesxox @fullwattpadmusictree @lover1307

(if you want to be added, pls let me know)

[theweasleytwinsownmyjuicyass]

Kalon | Pt. 4

Beauty that is more than skin-deep.

Jimin x staff!reader

Summary : you have been working at hybe for/with BTS for a few years and have become great friends with them. Suddenly Jimin starts acting different with you and you can‘t help but get upset because you secretly have a crush on him:(

Genre/Tropes : angst, jealousy, friends to lovers (more like idiots to lovers tho), painful blindness of the two…

Word count : ~1.7K

A/N : I love when it snows with big fluffy snowflakes, it makes me think of snowflower<3 Do you like snow?

Series masterlist<3

<

The next day you enter BTS practice room unwillingly, your body clad in oversize joggers and a matching long sweatshirt that hid your body from any praying eyes, as you were commanded to collect Jimin for his outfit check, while the other staff got other boys. You considered asking one of the other staff to switch with you, but that would have started a rumor about you and Jimin being enemies or what not… although it did feel as if you were his enemy as of lately judging by the treatment you’d received not even 12 hours ago.

This morning Jimin managed to look even worse than he did last night, and he felt even worse than he looked if that was even possible.

“When did you come in last night? I don’t think I heard you” Namjoon was fulfilling his leaderly duty, questioning Jimin on his whereabouts.

‘I don’t remember because I lost track of time crying in the studio because I’m a total fuck up’ Jimin wanted to say as he looked into his friends caring eyes, but settled on a simpler explanation.

“I slept at the studio.”

“Jimin you can’t sleep in the studio when we’re practicing every day, you need some proper rest if you wanna do well” Jin waved his hands in the air. Jin wasn’t blind he’d seen the way his friend had been acting lately with you and with the band. Something was very wrong and if Jimin continued to ignore those around him it would become a huge problem that they did not need a few months before their tour.

Jin’s voice instantly aggravated Jimin. If this conversation had taken place weeks prior, Jimin would be apologizing to his elders and doing just as they told him. However the present Jimin hated his hyung with a passion, because he, without actually doing anything, proved Jimin that he was third-rate compared to Jin.

You come closer to the three boys lounging on the floor keeping your moves as quiet as possible to not irritate Jimin. Your heart is beating like crazy and your whole body is stiff as a rock when you finally approach them.

“Jimin could you please come with me for the outfit check?” you barely meet his eyes, scared to see the same expression from yesterday glaring at you making you feel no bigger than a pebble and no smaller than a whale at the same time…

Jin and Namjoon share a confused look.

Jimin doesn’t say a word, his eyes never leaving your face, which is sadly hidden behind your hair. He exhales deeply and gets up heading for the door.

Guilt is swarming him, all he wishes to do is apologize to you for what happened yesterday, to set things straight again. He could no longer fool himself that ignoring your existence or raining down on everyone around him was in any way comforting.

You also turn toward the door now that his eyes are no longer burning your face and take a step when a warm hand catches your arm.

Your eyes shift to a concerned expression on your best friends face.

“Are you alright?” Jin voice is smooth and soothing, like cool gel on burnt skin.

“I’m fine” you reassure him, not wanting to bring your friend into your mess.

You can see that Jin doesn’t really trust your words or your ‘reassuring’ smile and hesitantly lets go of your hand when you put your hand on his signaling him to let you go.

Jimin is standing at the door watching the scene, once again an outsider. Hurt and anger reach a boiling point in him again. Jin’s hand on yours and the way your eyes never left his face, it was all so angering to Jimin. His anger towards you two becomes sadness and his eyes gloss over with new unshed tears.

That is all he had ever wanted, that kind of warmth from you, being able to share glances and comforting touches with you… But he was not the kind of guy that you liked.

You liked a man like Jin, an older man, one that was tall, had a soft voice and a strong body and of course was undeniably handsome.

To Jimin, he was nothing like the man described and on top of all, a total wreck that couldn’t even treat his friend well.

The two of you walk wordlessly to the dressing room and you lead him to a room with his name plastered on the door. He enters after you, closing the door behind himself.

You quickly shuffle through racks of clothes searching for a particular one that you had to go over today, while Jimin awkwardly stands by the door trying to get a grip on his emotions.

You finally find the hanger that you were looking for and unzip it, checking out the outfit within.

Usually these outfit checks were a fun thing between you and Jimin. You’d joke around without any tension, even though he had to take his shirt of multiple times in front of you, but you always kept your composure, as did he.

Now you didn’t know how to approach him while holding the shirt in your hands. It was full of buttons on the front and back, ones that he’d not reach to fasten himself.

You let out a shaky exhale and Jimin takes notice of your anxious state and decides that he must somehow diffuse this tension or he’ll suffocate.

“Need me to put that one on?” he cringes when it comes out harsher than he intended due to his gravelly voice.

“Yes… please” you nod handing him the shirt, still not lifting your head.

He takes it from you, your hands gently brushing against one another and you retract your hand as if he’d burned you. A big sign leaves his lips and he turns from you to put the shirt on. It feels foreign to turn away from you, as if he was hiding something, when before he’d take his shirt off the moment you entered the dressing room only to see the scarlet shade emerge on your cheeks.

At the back of his mind he knew that he’ll never be able to make you blush, because now you had someone to who your heart belonged and your heart recognizes only that someone.

Jimin slips out of his t-shirt and stares at the buttoned shirt his mind going blank. He tries to unfasten the buttons, slide his head in but still finds no way to put his body inside the shirt.

The shirt is bunched into a frustrated ball in his hands as he approaches you. You finally lift your head to look at the shirt only to be met with Jimin’s naked chest.

Your jaw goes slack and your eyes widen jumping from his chest to his eyes. Jimin breaks into a grin seeing your shocked expression.

“Mind helping me a bit? I can’t seem to figure out how this works… it’s so weird…” he chuckles out of embarrassment and your heart finally stills, anxiety dissociating with every word he says to you.

“Yes, sure” the corners of your lips pull up slightly which makes Jimin’s heart come alive. You take the shirt from his hands and methodically unbutton the garment in seconds which makes him chuckle.

“That’s why you’re the best” he mumbles under his breath but you don’t catch a word too focused on putting the shirt on him.

“Just put your hands through here and turn around, I’ll button you up”

He obeys your commands without a second thought, turning his back to you once he’d put his hands in.

A gasp leaves your lips when his back comes into view. It’s fully littered with bruises of different sizes and colours, indicating that some were new ones and some dating back a few weeks.

“Jimin… your back... what happened to-o your back?” the words barely roll out of your mouth. The image already imprinted in your brain leaves distaste on your tongue.

“It’s nothing” he’s quick to disregard your care, feeling an absolute idiot for showing himself to you. He should have remembered the way his back looked after the extensive dance training he’d been doing.

“Jimin this is not nothing, it looks horrible” you try to get an answer from him but seem to steer him into the wrong direction.

“Well nobody asked you what it looks like. Don’t like it, don’t look.” He snarled at you, but you were not backing down this time.

“It’s not about how it looks visually, gosh Jimin what is up with you lately? You’re totally out of it and now your back? You have to tell me what’s wrong; I could help you, the boys care about you too. We’re all friends here so don’t push us away” you try knocking into his heart but Jimin only sees red at the mention of his band mates, because believe it or not his mind can only conjure an image of his hyung and you together being ‘friends’.

“You’re a staff Y/n. So just do your job and leave me alone.” he snaps at you, venom leaking from his words. You didn’t even notice when the bubbly atmosphere became a hellish cold with his words settling into your heart.

You step back from him creating distance, returning to your previous lone-sphere. Jimin lets out a frustrated sign and rips the shirt off of his body flinging it to the side before stomping out of the dressing room with his own t-shirt in hand.

You stumble back into a chair; your eyes adhered to the ruined shirt sitting on the floor of the now quiet room.

“What the hell…”

>

[jaysflix]

Blind

Pairing: Papa Emeritus III / Reader (gn) Genre: angst, fluff Warnings: mentions of death. Also, I don't speak Latin, so forgive me for the rough translations.

Oh, so many ideas for drabbles. I'm getting back on track this time I promise. Chapter 4 of my series is in the works but in the meantime, my account needs a little reviving, take this Terzo drabble I've had in my mind for a bit.

“He represents this frustrated old guy who hates everyone, especially himself. But despite his wounds and his darkness, he has a sense of humor and is endearing, like most of my heroes. The late actor Christopher Lee was an inspiration to me. In many ways, he is Papa.” (Metallian 7/2015) (x)

1.7k words

Through the lens of the world, many would see the utter disgust ripping from the seams. Thread, tinged red with passion and a wave of fuming anger, began to tear, unable to safely retain his truth. It could only hold back so much, he was close to tipping toward the breaking point. After all these years, you'd think he'd at least open the gates, sharing his frustration with a tussle. No, he was trained better than that. Living in constant need of praise from his deadbeat father while trying to uphold the terrifying role of the papacy molded the mind to take whatever criticism was handed to him. He would no longer argue, for it proved to be useless in the past.

So, there he sat, his ears actively shunning every grim word spewing from his father's mouth, the presence of his brothers not helping his case. They said nothing, faces solemn and gazing to the floor. They've all learned their lesson when it came to barking back. It's hard not to when Nihil clearly doesn't know what he raised if he raised them at all. Nihil was an open book; air-headed as they come, narrow-minded, and worst of all, regardless of his power, he's just a submissive toy to his lover, whom he remained unfaithful to and still expects something in return for his hard work. What a sad, old fart.

Well, like it was any of Terzo's business anyway. He'd much rather see his own father suffer in the hands of Sister Imperator, who was much more present in his earlier years than he ever was. She was the one to encourage Terzo to pursue the "Papa-Path" (as he referred it to) like he had a choice. Nevertheless, he would've declined upfront if he had one.

The room had gotten silent as Nihil finished his unnecessary rant, and all Terzo could do was sit there and take it. He felt a strand of thread stretch thinner, bound to break. Slowly he breathed in, easing the enhanced discomfort of his mind. There was a slight ringing in his ear, substituting Nihil’s booming voice. Terzo peered up through his brows, fingers placed on his temple to further show his disinterest. His brothers awaited a response, though they were more invested than he ever was. Instead, he dropped his hand, hoisting himself up from the wingback.

Nihil and Terzo were closer in height as the old man's back curled toward the grave. Give a few years and he'd be with the rest of the family underground, lost in the dark halls of sacred catacombs. His mind cursed him, a sense of relief at the thought.

He glanced over to his eldest brother, who always wore a somber expression for as long as he could remember. Primo, being the first, had to experience the burden of becoming Papa as soon as he could think. At first, the idea of holding so much power to influence others felt, ironically, like a blessing. Until he'd gotten older, he realized and regretted being delivered to the blackened hands of his father. Then, he was burdened, not once, but twice more as Secondo and Terzo arrived around the same time. Primo raised his brothers involuntarily. He wanted them to be better than Nihil, and the rest of the clergy.

Terzo loved him dearly for the tender memories, and it pained him to know that Primo wanted more than to be Papa.

As for the middle child, who knows what he really wanted? Secondo kept to himself most days. He was a studious man before his reign, fishing for attention from anyone of a higher status. Then, during his time, he only lasted a few years after dedicating most of his life to fully understanding the responsibility of being Papa. Not only that, but he wished to share his love with the world.

That left Terzo, who was quite troubled for some time before becoming a puppet. There was nothing left for him now. His time is coming to an end. No fights. Just acceptance.

His brothers glanced back over at him, along with his father. Terzo said nothing, robes draping delicately over his legs, getting caught in the wind with every step forward and out of the conference room.

The thread continued to stretch thinner as he made way through the familiar corridors. He'd taken a longer route back to his room, traveling through the silent garden Primo would spend the rest of his days in. He always appreciated beautiful things. Terzo copied him, deciding he too would cherish the grace of well-kept flowers. Even as the days grew colder, the petals managed to bloom brightly.

Centered in the whimsical garden, down the short flight of stairs, an osier surrounded itself with a ring of stone, beckoning Terzo to sit underneath its bowing arms. He found the right space to rest on, thoughts quickly rushing to his head in the silence of the night. He shuddered thinking of the opportunities that could've been out there for him if his blood wasn't damned.

The early autumn breeze slipped through the hedges, earning a ripple of bustling leaves which calmed the tightened nerves. It was a drastic change in setting; from rising tensions to a quiet life of nature. However, he was too into his stirring thoughts to notice another troubled neighbor wandering behind where he sat. Until he heard the dragging of feet against the graveled floor, his head whipped over his shoulder. There was a sign of embarrassment through his words,

"I didn't realize this place was occupied. I will go then." You wanted to laugh at his proper behavior. It was very unseen when you were with him. He hadn't registered that the presence was familiar because the moon had been shielding itself. He turned again, jumping ever so slightly upon realization.

He breathed out heavily, "Oh, gratias Satanas." Terzo pinched his nose, frustrated, yet relieved. That's when you laughed.

"Is all well, Papa?" He scoffed.

"I wish I could say it was." You walked over, sitting closely at his side, bringing a hand to rub softly across his shoulder blades.

"Do tell. It's beneficial to let these bottled feelings loose." Terzo looked at you, straightening his posture to seem more collected, though you could tell he was not. He looked into your soft eyes, so full of passion, so alive, and so very kind. There was never a moment where he doubted his love for you, and he wanted so badly to live in your arms forever, forgetting all his responsibilities and the rest of the world who expected too much from him.

You felt his eyes look up and down rapidly at your lips. Taking his hand with a small, reassuring squeeze, you kissed him. It was a short one, light in the way he hated. Terzo desired to kiss you heavily, letting you feel his frustration with the burning heat of his body merged against yours. But you were persistent, wanting to hear his words in order to help him truly overcome his worries. Terzo, when upset, could never formulate the right sentences.

"Papa, I know it's hard." You pecked him again, this time holding on a little longer. He sighed into it, hands darting to your cheeks so you wouldn't break away. He pressed hard, trying so desperately to let the moment last. He kissed you again and again in the same spot, the thread losing control only to snap. Terzo's tears didn't make it past his lashes as he blinked them away. It hurt to feel him so shut off, each kiss laced with a sadness you've never felt before. He was so tired of everything. His lips finally pulled from yours, leaning against your forehead as his hands rested where they were.

You caressed his wrists,

"Please. What is wrong?"

"I'm afraid." He confessed.

"Of what?" Everything, he wanted to answer. There was a lot to be afraid of, but what struck his heart was the fear of leaving this world with no legacy left behind for people to remember him by.

Being forgotten.

"My work. It all means nothing. I am nothing." His hands missed the warmth of you when they returned to his lap.

The confession dropped like a bomb. Questions filled the silence in the air. For how long did he feel like this? How did this happen? Why does he think this way? I am nothing. His words repeated in your mind, shattering your soul.

You protested,

"Oh Papa, that's not possible."

"I don't believe that."

"But it's true!" He stifled a sarcastic laugh. You spaced out in thought, thinking of a way to make him see. You grabbed for his hands,

"Then, we'll switch eyes."

"What?"

"Have you got a spoon?"

"A spoon?" You knew it was a silly thing to suggest, and of course, it was all jokes, but you wanted to say something that will at least bring his mood up from the pits of his stomach.

Nodding, you told him your plan.

“Yes, a spoon to scoop our eyes from the sockets. We can trade them." He laughed. It was working.

"Then what?" You smiled,

"You'll wear mine, so you can see that you are worth more than anything in this world. You mean so much to everyone who ever crossed your path."

“And what about mine?”

The wind ruffled the leaves again. September's wind could not be mistaken for October's. It was much gentler, a soothing introduction for the wilting that was to come. Colors die as the months move on before new life is reborn in April when rain is gifted across the land.

Terzo felt the ticking strike in his eyes. Sand drained to the bottom of the bulb hanging over his head. Time was nearing to an end.

“I’ll get rid of them.” The answer got caught in your throat. He’d warned you about his last moments so long ago. At first, it was too far in the future to even consider. Now, you felt the reaper crawl closer.

“But then you won’t be able to see.”

“You see yourself as nothing. I’d rather succumb to the void than wear your eyes, because at least I’ll know you’ll be here, as something.”

As silly as this conversation had ended, Terzo felt lucky. Even in his grave, the fear was replaced with peace. You'd remember him always, not by his role, but by the sputters of white in the sky and the cold wind in the garden, where you offered every part of your warmth that would stay in his still heart forever.

[unluckyhoneybee]

Could you write something where you are fake dating Lando but have feelings for him? And during the crash you get super scared so when he comes back to the garage you ran to him and give him a big hug and some kisses. But he thinks you did it for your stunt and is a bit hurt because he has feelings for you too? Fluffy ending please

Lando's car touched Pierre's and he lost control of it. You hold your breath. It happened in slow motion, everyone in the garage praying for him to not hit the wall or another car. It would make it worst.

When he finally got back to the garage you were shaking on your knees. Your relationship was fake but after months of travelling with him, going on dates, and basically spending more time with Lando than with anyone else, you had fallen for him. Watching his car crash like that made you rethink everything. You loved him and you didn't want to lose him.

Acting by impulse, you walked to him as soon as you saw him taking his helmet off. He wasn't expecting you to do that, so he looked at you in surprise. But when you hugged him and hid on his neck, his heart beat faster. He was still shaken but hugged you hard against his body.

"I was super scared, Lando" You whispered on his neck while you ran your hand over his back. You wanted to feel him. He was with you, he was okay.

"I'm okay. It didn't even hurt" He said looking at you.

His green eyes were brilliant. You took his face in your hands. He was red and sweaty. You kissed his cheek and then, without thinking much about it, you pressed your lips against his in a sweet kiss. It wasn't your first kiss, you had kissed a hundred times only for the cameras. But it felt different for the both of you. It was more passionate and needy, more loving. It was an actual kiss, not only a bit of pressure on the lips. Your mouths moved together in perfect synchrony until Lando broke apart.

You only had time for kissing his cheek again before he completely pulled away. You were a bit taken aback, but maybe it was because of the crash. He probably needed to rest.

You looked around, there were some people looking and smiling, but also the cameras and that Netflix crew.

A few hours later, you were leaving the paddock hand in hand with Lando. It was almost a habit now. Every time you were in public you would hold hands.

He had been really quiet since the race. He was disappointed, the whole thing had been a mess. Strategy, the circuit, going from points to P15, then crashing... He was probably tired too.

Jon and Lando's manager were walking ahead of you, but apart from that, you were alone. The other people were meters away. Even though, Lando spoke in a lower voice.

"What you did before, was it for the stunt? Was it fake?"

You looked at him. You were a bit confused. You had done a lot of things for the stunt today, playing the proud and loving girlfriend in front of everyone.

"The kiss" He said looking at you. "Was it real when you kissed me after the race or was it just for Netflix?"

You gasped. He had caught you.

"If it wasn't real I want this stupid fake relationship thing to end because it's getting more painful with every minute I spend with you."

You stopped in your tracks, pulling his hand so he would stop in front of you. He was saying that he wanted it to be real, right?

"Lando..."

He looked at you with eyes full of emotion.

"It felt different, but I don't know if you were just playing your part or if you really felt it too" He said with a sour voice.

"I... I felt it, Lando" You whispered looking into his eyes. "I may have fallen in love with you" Your heart was beating fast. He shared your feelings.

Lando opened his mouth to speak, but words didn't come out of it. He decided to act better than speak, so he cupped your face with his big hand and leaned for a kiss. You met him halfway and trapped his plump lips softly. It felt even better than before. You snaked your arms around his neck and he let his free hand on your waist. YOu felt like flying.

When you broke apart, he looked you in the eyes.

"I may have fallen in love with you too, YN"

You smiled and hugged him tightly.

"It's not fake anymore, right?" You felt him whisper in your ear.

YOu said no with your head and smiled. Pulling back to look at him in the eyes, you spoke. "I love you" He laughed a bit and kissed your lips once more. "I love you too"

"Guys, you are really cute and all of that but..." You heard Jon and when you both looked at him he was signalling the paparazzi a few meters away.

"Oh, let's go."

You hold hands with Lando again and started walking in Jon's direction.

"So..." The trainer seemed curious.

"We are not so fake dating anymore" Lando said with a huge smile.

The next day you woke up to a couple of headlines: Lando Norris and YN YSN shared a passionate and sweet moment after Miami GP.

[thoughtsineedtoletout]

The Tortured Poets Department

Track 3 – My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys

This track sets the scene with the narrator telling us she has experienced this before; the voices in her lover's head suggest it's a cyclical rumination of anxious and pessimstic overthinking. She analogises her lover to the sickest army doll. I think this lyric is showing a duality of meaning, 'sickest' is often used as a colloquialism for trendiness and stylishness, paralleled to actually being 'sick', inferring his mental unwellness.

Taylor has previously referenced soldiers, battles, and armies in songs, such as in The Great War and You're Losing Me. Soldiers are often attributed to traits of honour, integrity, truth, and resilience. Her use of these metaphors have previously switched between using it for her lover or herself; depending on the narrative of the piece.

What this tells me is that she's been in the wax and wane of this recurring battle for some time, consistently fighting to keep this relationship alive, always on the defence in one way or another, and it is breaking her. This is portrayed in the opening lines of verse one, oh, here we go again // the voices in his head // called the rain to end our days of wild.

Then she goes into how this makes her cry, rivulets descend my plastic smile. I did have to finally break out my dictionary to look this one up; rivulets is a small stream of water/liquid. Here, she is telling us that she's been masking her pain for a long time behind false smiles, until she can't hold them back anymore and the tears are finally flowing from her.

At this point, it feels like the narrator has accepted that this is how it'll always be and understands that the relationship is coming to an end, which is why she's crying.

She then goes on to say but you should've seen him when he first got me, reminiscing on the beginning of their relationship when it was brand new and shiny. This period of time was when he was showing her love, attention, appreciation, respect, and pride of being with her, like when a kid finally gets their hands on that toy they've been coveting for a while and they're just so excited about it.

Eventually, they play with their favourite toy too much; they become familiar and comfortable, it becomes less shiny, and it is taken for granted. The intial excitement fades so they put less care into making sure it doesn't break, so eventually it does from carelessness of how they treat it and it becomes neglected.

The narrator goes on to say I'm queen of sand castles he destroys. She has used kings and queens as metaphors before and I feel like she is tying that into this to tell us where the story is at now. In King of My Heart and London Boy she refers to herself as a queen and her lover as a king, and in Call It What You Want she likens her career to a castle in the lyric, my castle crumbled overnight. Now, her king is the one destroying the sand castles she's been building.

She then says 'cause it fit too right, puzzle pieces in the dead of night // I should've known it was a matter of time, suggesting they were too similar as people and this was their downfall. Anecdotally speaking, I have found that having too many similar traits can mean you end up clashing a lot. For instance, if you are a very passionate person and so is your partner, but the topic you're passionate about is different, this can cause some friction.

The second verse progresses the story into there being a litany of reasons they could have stopped playing house and actually follow through with the real commitment, we could've played for keeps this time. The use of the word litany suggests that it is repetitive and monotonous and they've been in this position a multitude of times.

Put me back on my shelf // But first, pull the string // And I'll tell you that he runs // Because he loves me

The narrator feels like she has been used up and then discarded after her lover broke her. She's also in denial here because she's stating that he is running only because he loves her. This is also depicted in the chorus, he saw forever, so he smashed it up.

He is afraid of commiting to doing life with her and so he runs and he breaks her in the process. However, she attributes this as a fault of her own and says, once I fix me // he's gonna miss me. Reinforcing her denial.

Back to list of analyses.

[emilythezeldafan]

GIVE US OSWALD COBBLEPOT HEADCANONS. PLEASE 🙏 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

WOAH HEY THERE

Actually gonna be my first time posting Gotham headcanons on Tumblr and I'm a little nervous but sure, why not

General Headcanons:

sorry for these being short I just woke up

While the in love with Ed arc did still happen, sorry but Nygmobblepot isn't canon in my 'verse since Eddie is shipped with my OC :'), then again I'm not opposed to writing or reading polyamory it's just not something I do with my usual friend group.

his limp is a lot worse than it looks, he's in a lot of pain from it and he disguises it because he's just that stubborn.

His mother taught him how to dance, he's actually very good at it. Also got a decent singing voice on him.

Actually finds his middle name a little bit embarrassing - I mean, there most be a reason he never says it in the show.

X Reader Headcanons:

Since I know people like this stuff thought I'd have a go.

Keeping it gender neutral so everyone can picture themselves or an OC. First of all, he will treat his S/O like a precious gemstone or like they're made of gold or something. Not in the smother-y way or like they're a possession (although he does get a bit possessive sometimes), but rather that they're held in the highest regard to him and none of the rest of Gotham's thugs dare touch them or else.

Depending on whether they were there for his mothers' death or not he probably won't want to see them for a while (not that he doesn't actually want to see them, he just doesn't want to be seen like that)

Eventually Edward found him half dead on his doorstep muttering about them so he did the sensible thing and tracked them down

"Y/N, come get your Sad Wet Penguin, it's making me uncomfortable."

So that ends with them, Edward and Oswald all staying in his apartment together. Which makes for some hijinks let me tell you.

Evelyn Hart (one of my OCs) visiting regularly and asking when the two of them (if not already) are going to start dating

Siding with him against Edward and Evelyn when things start to go to shit

Edward trying to kill them as revenge for killing Kringle clone (I hate that storyline with a passion. Although they weren't romantic here as Evelyn is his ship but he was fascinated/obsessed with her for her looks would could be taken the wrong way so I still get angst)

However when Strange takes them Oswald actually goes to Edward for help. Evelyn had to convince him but it worked.

Planning to leave Gotham with Edward, Evelyn and Oswald during Season 4 but staying to help the rebellion

Either becoming a supervillain themselves or leaving Gotham in the ten years

Oswald and Edward having a particular grudge against bats for keeping them away from their loves for so long

[lgvalenzuela]

Part one…

It had been a week since they found him. No sign of Solas, just the Inquisitor missing a body part, the arm that used to hold the Anchor. Could've been the pain or maybe the shock, but he hadn't awakened since the accident.

So there was no information, just a good excuse to keep postponing the Exalted Council, at least they knew he trusted lady Montiliet to handle such matters, or at least Aeryn and Dorian were quite sure of it.

Cassandra wasn't that sure, Aeryn looked for any excuse to sing praises for her lover. And Dorian saw the Inquisitor screaming in pain while his arm…what would be a good word for it? Disintegrated? He hadn't been the same since then, he barricaded himself in a room with the Inquisitor, only coming out under extreme need, or to send messengers to his homeland, that his arrival would be postponed once more.

So clearly their tevinter companions were quite blinded by love, which was terribly romantic, and horribly misplaced given the circumstances.

Cassandra made her rounds around the palace, walking near the Inquisitor's quarters often enough that she would be the first to have news. Well except for Dorian, obviously.

Who was engaged on a well too known scene once more:

"The Imperium will have me for the rest of my life! They can wait a couple of months until I've made sure the Inquisitor is okay! So you can tell them to shove every other messenger down Corypheus dead arse!" he shouted to a messenger

But this time he wasn't alone, the dwarf put a hand on his arm reassuringly:

"Come on Sparkler" said Varric with a softer tone of voice

Dorian sighed, exhausted, rubbing his eyes:

"That…was uncalled for and I apologize… It's not your fault, but please tell them to stop sending people" he explained apologetically

The messenger bowed and left the scene in a hurry, while Varric rubbed Dorian's arms:

"I did tell you not to get involved with a protagonist" he said, Dorian exhaled a faint laugh

"That you did…"

"He'll be happy to see you there when he wakes up"

"I…don't know if happy would be the word…"

"Yes…the arm, his hand…"

"He'll be glad to see the Anchor gone" said the Seeker, invading the conversation "He seemed… quite uncomfortable since he got it, followed by sporadic bouts of pain in particularly stressful situations…and now…"

Varric rubbed his neck, looking desperately at Dorian, but the mage was just starting furiously at what was once his companion. Varric coughed awkwardly:

"Yes it was…killing him…"

"But Cassandra-" started Dorian, quite visibly trying to calm his nerves "You do notice finding himself one-armed now…will also kill him, right? Maybe not literally but-"

"Will he really be that upset that he won't be able to go close rifts anymore?"

"Oh Seeker…" Varric shook his head disappointedly

"That's all you ever did see, huh?"

Dorian tried to leave, who knows what stopped him in his tracks, maybe he'd been mulling over this feeling for way too long now:

"Do you really think Vaelaan is going to keep the Inquisition running? After everything?"

"Everything?" she asked, she covered her mouth slightly

Remembering the Battle with Corypheus, the shock in his face when he hell his horn in his hand, his face covered in blood:

"Sparkler don't take it there" Varric tried to mediate

"I try to…because it's not my place, it shouldn't be me saying it but…Seeker do you really think we were discussing the ability to close rifts when we talked about the loss of his arm? After all this time…did you understand nothing? It's been two years and you still don't know Vaelaan at all?"

"What-? Of course I-"

"Yes? Did you just remember why Varric calls him Mandolin!?" he looked at her, intently, with his hand still holding tightly on the doorknob "Or did you just care about how he was useful for the Inquisition?"

Varric looked down, heartbroken. While Cassandra stood there in silence. She frowned slightly, couldn't tell if she was disappointed in herself or just angry at the sudden burst of passion:

"Why do you care what happens to him or the Inquisition Pavus? Aren't you going to abandon them both?"

She covered her mouth immediately, but the damage was already done. Couldn't tell if Dorian looked more angry or sad, but he held the doorknob so tightly the palm of his hand was turning red.

Whatever friendship they had gained over the years, gone just like that, in a few seconds.

Could probably say the same for Varric, shaking his head, disappointed…and hurt:

"Playing dirty I see…" said Dorian with a shaky voice "I'll refrain myself because…It still isn't me who needs to have this discussion with you…and the rest…" he explained repressing a quiet sob "Consider yourself lucky I've decided to keep to myself some choice words…"

Whatever else they could've said was interrupted by the sound of a loud crash inside the Inquisitor's chambers. Dorian bursted through the door with Varric and Cassandra following close.

This is precisely the reason Dorian wanted to keep an eye on him, to make sure he would be there when he woke up…

Images flashed through his eyes when he saw the man he loved, tired and defeated. Images of a future he long thought they had avoided, when he met that very same man, this very same moment. And he was different, but so similar…

So young, and still looking so old, so miserable…He wanted to protect him from so many things, but…some things are inevitable…

"Amatus…"

Vaelaan smiled weakly:

"Hey…sorry I worried you Beloved…"

He tried to laugh but…he just stared down, motionless, dead…

With the remains of a broken down mandolin on his hand.