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#reminds me why i loved this series so much as a kid
theealbatross · 13 hours
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marry me (s.s.)
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Plot: The 3 times Sebastian thought about marrying you and the 1 time he asked.
Tags: miscommunication, mentions of murder and poisonings, fluff, implied smut, dangerous idiots in love, fluff, 6k-ish words
A/N: sorry this took so long i went on a vacation! One of the funniest line about Ominis locking the two of them up was written by @/shinzhon in our discord server!
Series Masterlist - the rest of the chapters here
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“Seriously Sebastian, how many times has it been this month?”
“It’s not my fault this time, I swear!”
“So, you slipped and somehow ended up in the Restricted Section? Is there some secret passage I hadn’t known about? Care to share to the class?” Ominis pinned him with a look and despite knowing his friend was blind Sebastian still raised his hands in surrender. Ominis sighed, there was no point really. When he had agreed to be friends with the troublesome boy in their first year he had signed up for this. It’s his fault for not seeing the mischievousness in those innocent brown eyes.
“I’m surprised,” Ominis continued as he started the trek back to their common room, the painful small talks he had with the headmaster in order to prevent anything getting sent to Solomon already fading as he got further away from the office. He could only imagine the absolute hell the old man would’ve sent their way if he had heard of his rendezvous in the Restricted Section. “It just isn’t like you.”
Sebastian scoffed, “To be in the Restricted Section? Where have you been the past year?”
“No, you idiot,” he hissed. “It isn’t like you to be caught.”
The falter in Sebastian’s steps had him raising an eyebrow, neck snapping back in accusation. “I’ve been caught once,” Sebastian reminded him quickly of the time Scribner first put the anti-Alohamora charm in the doors of the Restricted Section.
"I'm not finished," He’s hiding something. “It isn’t like you to be caught twice.”
He stopped on his track at the sound of Sebastian’s wince. “Okay, don’t be mad –”
“Oh no.”
“The new fifth-year needed some help to get in the restricted section because – well, I actually can’t tell you, she made me swear – and it’s bigger than the both of us and it was going so well! But Peeves caught just as we were about to –”
“Honestly, Sebastian, enough!”
He didn’t need to hear any of this.
Sebastian was right. Whatever great big mess that new kid was in the middle of was bigger than the both of them. And he has had more than enough on his plate trying to keep his friend out of trouble without the additional presence of another mysterious adrenaline junkie being thrown in the mix – one who was worryingly a magnet for big trouble. It was no wonder Sebastian was transfixed; he was looking at the damn mirror.
“Whatever fascination you have with that girl ends now,” It doesn’t escape him how much he sounded like a father getting in-between two lovers. He would’ve laughed in incredulity at the current situation he had found himself in if he wasn’t so bloody frustrated. “You get in enough trouble on your own, she doesn’t need to be sucking you up in her own problems.”
Sebastian makes a sound that doesn’t sound like a ‘yes, Ominis’ and the blond’s blood vessels nearly pop. He cannot believe this.
“Come on, it wasn’t like that. Honestly, she was brilliant! You should’ve been there; she took to the Disillusionment spell so quick that if we hadn’t let out guard down, we –”
“Oh, Merlin’s Beard, why don’t you marry the damn girl and the both of you leave me out of your tomfooleries!”
That would be ideal, he thinks. In a perfect world, he’s going to lock the two of them in a room and eat the key. There he would have no daily nuisances, won’t have to worry about sneaky Slytherins and the explosion of troubles they bring with them, and won’t need to suffer through Headmaster Black’s presence to get them out of it. A thankless job that brought nothing but headaches.
It was only when he was out of his blissful reverie that he realized his headache had stopped walking behind him seemingly lost in his own thoughts.
No.
“Sebastian … “
The other boy audibly flinched, his breath now irregular, and Ominis will bet all the galleons in the Gaunt’s vault that if he could see his old friend’s face would be as red as a Gryffindor’s arse right now.
He could almost cry, his palms producing embarrassing cold sweats at the absolute worst-case scenario unfolding in front of his unseeing eyes. “Please – I am begging you – not this one.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Oh no, no, no.
Suddenly, the prospect of Sebastian and this troublemaker getting together was not that idyllic. In quick successions, all possible worst-case scenario popped in Ominis head. Sebastian was bad enough, if he had someone who was equally as reckless and rash as him it would be something out of his worst nightmare.
Ominis is a good person. This can’t be happening to him.
“Sebastian, listen to me –”
With only a breeze as his answer Sebastian skipped right past Ominis and up the grand staircase. Ominis could feel the heat of his face. “No time to talk. Got somewhere to be –”
“Sebastian, no!”
Why must it keep happening to him?
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Sebastian was pretty sure the house in Feldcroft has not heard Anne’s laughter in a long, long time. Yet, here you were, huddled together with his sister, whispering giggle-worthy stories about him no doubt by the way your gaze kept fluttering back to him, and lifting the dreadful ooze that has monopolized the small space since his sister’s illness.
“Nice girl,” He had nearly jumped out of his skin when he realized his uncle had been sitting on the spare bed hidden by a curtain.
“Y-Yeah,” Merlin’s beard you even got his unpleasant uncle’s favor in such a short time – a miracle worker, truly. “She’s … quite something.”
Talking to him has always been awkward.
Even before Anne had gotten sick, he found it difficult to converse with the man who looked too much but was simultaneously nothing like his gentle, kind father. And maybe it was also the childish insistence that if he had let the man into his heart, he would betray his parents – his father – that he just couldn’t let him in. It would feel too much like replacing him so he just opted in letting Solomon linger at the precipice of his life and the man was more than happy to do so.
After all, if Solomon was nothing like his father, Sebastian was everything that reminded Solomon of his dead brother. And those were holes none of them could fill for each other.
“You know, your mother was the same,” Sebastian’s eyebrows raised, never hearing Solomon talk about her till now. “When she was a 7th year I was just starting in Hogwarts and let me tell you, I had little hope for that brother of mine of ever getting her attention.”
His uncle continued to stare at you like he was seeing a ghost – the good kind – not the kind he sees when he looks at him. “She was brilliant, loved by even the firmest professors. And was always willing to hold out a helping hand, even to lost first years whose ass of a brother left to go fend for himself in the confusing moving stairs of Hogwarts.”
Even Sebastian let out a chuckle at that ridiculous image. Sometimes he forgets that even his old uncle had once been a child. The thought is uncomfortable, especially looking at the man he is now. “I always told him he was out of his mind for courting your mother but did my crazy brother listen? Absolutely not.”
Where was he going with this?
Sebastian returned his eyes back to you.
Brilliant, admirable, courageous you.
With your bright smile that feeds his ego by always shining brighter with him. The recklessness that never fails to infuriate and impress on his last nerves. The kindness you innately had in you that makes him want to wrap you up in the finest silk then lock you up in an impenetrable room so nobody else may ever touch it – so nobody else may have you.
That would be best, he thinks.
“It would seem even that insanity he had passed on to you.”
Sebastian’s eyes widened, forcing himself to take slow, deep breaths so all his blood doesn’t go to his face, unable to look at the older man. “It’s not like that,” he cleared his throat, now unable to look at you. “We’re … friends.”
“A good … companionship is built upon friendship,” Sebastian’s head whipped to this uncle as if to say ‘how would you know?’ but his uncle just grunted, shrugging before standing up to busy himself in the kitchen, calling you out to assist and telling Anne to take her medicine.
A good companionship. He knows it’s a bit too early but the thought of it wasn’t as horrifying as he thought it would be. The budding interest he had in his new friend was pushed and shoved into the deepest nook of his brain – he had more pressing things to tend to, one that was more important than discerning why he could recognize the sound of her laughter in the middle of dinner in the Great Hall.
But if he really thinks about it, takes a moment to breathe and considers it … it would be nice. She’s had research interest but with her grades and skill being a renowned curse-breaker or even an auror isn’t out of the question. If he works hard, he knows he’d be able to keep up and support her and Anne – maybe even set up an apartment in the city, they can just visit his sister when they have the chance.
Of course,he will try to encourage her to settle back down in Feldcroft if Anne still lives here but Irondale is quite beautiful too, a good place to practice flying when they have a family, let his children experience a true childhood surrounded by peace and quiet – two kids would be nice. Twins run in the family so maybe he could convince her for another one if their first pair are of the same gender. He would really like a daughter who looks just like --
 “I like her.”
“Bloody hell!” Sebastian jumped when he realized his twin sister was now right in front of him while he was deep in his embarrassing delusions. (When did the members of his family become so sneaky?) She grinned at him as if she knew exactly what had him so distracted. To avoid her piercing stare, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders as he guided her in the little nook of her bedroom where all the vials full of her medicines were stored.
“I knew you would. ‘s why I brought her here.”
“Oh?” Anne nonchalantly drank a disgusting-looking fluid in one gulp. “So, it wasn’t cause you wanted to monopolize her and get ahead of your competition back at Hogwarts?”
Sebastian gawked, his entire body heating up from the accusation. “What – no, it’s not – I thought she would cheer you up!”
He quickly took a quick peek at the corner, relieved that you were too busy charming his uncle off to hear such absurd allegations against him. He wouldn’t want you to get the wrong impression of him at all. After all, for how wondrous those visions are, he puts your friendship on a pedestal above anything else.
He thinks he’ll be more than content to be just your friend. Maybe.
“How gracious of you, brother,” Anne smirked, in this light it was almost like the old Anne.
Sebastian smirked at her, masking indifference, “I try.”
He should’ve known. Anne would be the one who might just see through all of him, even the things he likes to keep from his head. Even his most impossible dreams of cozy cottages and soft days.
“Sebastian!” The twins straightened up at your voice, both felt like they had been caught red-handed as you cheerfully rounded the corner. “Oh, was I interrupting –”
“No, not at all!” Anne pushed Sebastian firmly, making him stumble and catch himself just as he was about to crash into you. The proximity forces him to stare as your eyes crinkled when you smiled. He stops breathing.
You’ll look dazzling in white; he thinks.
“Your uncle told me your neighbor had some mint in their garden, said you could help me find it? It would go well with the juice.”
Sebastian’s eyes fell to your lips as you spoke before physically ripping his eyes out to look at your eyes, nodding, as his brain tried to keep up between his imagination and the reality of your face in front of his.  You grinned, already walking towards the door. He lets out a breath, the faint traces of your perfume that he gave you wafting an enchanting trail that kept his gaze on your retreating back.
“Get on with it,” Anne pushed him again and this time he gave her his deadliest glare as he followed after you. “You can’t hide her in Feldcroft forever.”
“Zip it.”
Solomon stood next to Anne as they stared at the two sweethearts in their own worlds as they made an adventure out of the small trip. Anne couldn’t help but giggle when Sebastian tripped because he was too busy looking at you instead of the road.
“Are men always this stubborn and stupid?”
“No,” Solomon grumbled, heart aching fondly when in a blink he could almost see a different mirage of figures that were both familiar and strangers at the same time. “He’s just his father’s son.”
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“It’s over.”
Sebastian turned his head, straying his eyes away from the night sky framed by the room’s glass ceiling to look at you.  “It’s over.”
The two of you lay down on the floor of the room of requirement, sneaking away from the graduation party to spend the last moments of your life as a student in Hogwarts together. It wasn’t intentional, you had sneaked out for a proper goodbye to the sentient room and thanked it for everything it had provided for you but, like always, Sebastian had gotten ahold of your sneaking form before you could take two steps away from his side.
Sebastian can see that the inevitability of it all is making you emotional, a Hogwarts-shaped hole already forming in the crevices of your heart. The thought of no longer having this haven to escape the world's cruel realities makes him sigh.
“I’m terrified,” your whispered confession surprised him.
His gallant darling? Scared?
“What for?”
You smiled at him sheepishly. “It feels stupid but … I’m scared of things changing. I feel like that little girl again – 15 years old and alone in this great, big world I was thrust into.” Sebastian noticed a shudder crawl over your body. “And this time I won’t have a cheeky Slytherin lad to show me around.”
Sebastian frowned, unsure if he was more disappointed at you for thinking you would lose him that easily or at himself for not nailing that the two of you were tethered forevermore in that bright head of yours.
Instead, he took your shaking hands that you tried to hide and held on to it tight.
You smiled up at him. “Promise to stay in touch?”
He could almost scoff at such an understatement of a request. Do you know I’m never letting you go?
“You’re not getting away from me that easily,” he grinned, hoping to charm the rest of your remnant fears away. “I expect weekly letters while I’m away from training.”
You scrunched your nose, which he thinks is just adorable “What? So you can brag to your fellow trainees you have a lovesick lady waiting for you at home?”
He laughed at that, eyes crinkling and heart racing, “Maybe I should keep a photo of you plastered on my wall then, really commit to the part. A pretty face like you on my walls should make me the envy of my entire group.”
Her laugh came out nervous, her grip on his hands tightened. She’s still scared.
If only he had been sorted in Gryffindor maybe then he would’ve been daring enough to say something. To fall to his knees in this room and let his forehead kiss the ground and beg you to stay with him, run away with him, marry him. To let him spend the rest of his lowly life making sure you will never be lonely again.
But the fates were cruel and for all his pretense of confidence, the gods’ honest truth is he is a coward. A coward with no prospects.
If he wants your hand he needs to prepare, to follow the plan he had mapped out since the night he had realized he would very much like to spend the rest of his life with you or die trying. He might not be worth anything for now but he’ll make himself enough.  He just needs to hold on … just two more years – it’s all he asks.
Just two years for him to establish himself, to become someone, to earn the right to ask you. He knows it will be hard, you’ll be engrossed in your own research and won’t be able to see him as he trains to be an auror. And there was always a risk of you meeting someone else but he’s already made Poppy swear to report everything to him while she accompanies you in your travels, a contingency plan for any hurdle that may put a wrench in his plans.
If all of this fails then so be it, but he won’t lose you from a lack of planning or trying.
“Why are you looking at me like that?
He didn’t realize he was staring at you while his thoughts ran wild. The dark of your eyes reflected the ceilings you had charmed with the sky of the Forbidden Forest. The dim hue of the room made you look ethereal, like a forest fairy sent to lead him to a beautiful doom. He’d follow you anywhere.
Is it too soon to tell you I love you?
Is it too late?
“Have I ever told you that you’re the only one I need?” Sebastian suddenly whispered, vulnerable.
It’s the closest thing he’ll allow himself to say for now, placating the intensity of his need to be close to you by properly laying on his side and pressing a firm hand on your cheeks as you followed his lead, your own loosely dangling on his waist.
“Don’t you think Ominis will be quite offended by that?” you teased, your fingers tracing patterns on his spine.
He couldn’t help but match your grin, “He’ll live.”
“Sebastian,” your words quiet but he moved his hand at the back of your head to pull you in closer, muffling your following words on his chest. “Promise me nothing will change?”
Sebastian’s hold on you tensed, pressing the gentlest kiss at the top of your head to silence his protests.
No, he wants to scream. Everything has to change.
He’ll change everything for you.
“I promise,” he lies.
He’s no Gryffindor, after all.
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[ 5 years later ]
“I almost fucking killed you!”
You rolled your eyes, which was a bad idea considering the curse that malfunctioned in Gringott’s brought upon a gaggle of Inferis along with a mutated one that grew about ten feet tall. Before it could lunge straight at your head, Sebastian – Merlin’s beard, he was still as handsome as the day you had left Hogwarts – pulled you into him before casting a Protego followed by a Confringo, blasting the undead’s arm away.
Still his favorite after all these years.
“What? You become a bigshot Auror and forget my face?!”
With an Incendio, the rest of the Inferis were now weakened enough that Sebastian was able to finish them all in one go (bloody hell!). Giving you time to gather yourself and lash out a heavy burst of ancient magic to take care of the giant Inferi once and for all.
You wobbled from the effort but firm hands and a chest caught you. When you looked up you were greeted by a cantankerous Sebastian covered in dust and dirt.
“As if I could see your face in those ridiculous glasses you’re wearing. Is that a lizard’s eye?”
You pulled on the offending thing, turning and standing on your tiptoes to put it on him, then he could see that it helps with seeing the traps laid out around the vault. “Satisfied your inquiries, Mr. Auror?”
He pushed the glasses to the top of his head, still looking down at you with a suspicious glare. Damn him and damn the entire male race for their inability to stop growing their limbs. “I should have you arrested. Illegally breaking into Gringots? What were you thinking?”
“Please, any curse-breaker you sent this way would’ve been eaten by that curse, I barely got out with my life if not for my ancient magic.”
Sebastian’s eyebrows twitched in the familiar way when he wasn’t particularly fond of you – which usually only happens when you throw yourself in danger … like today. Old habits die hard.
“I –”
“Save it,” he raised a palm. You sucked your lips into a thin line comically – it has been half a decade since you last saw him after all, you’re not entirely quite sure If this Sebastian in front of you would hesitate in throwing his prodigal best friend into the cold stone walls of a ministry ordained prison. “You owe me.”
Before he could, you fired off a blast of ancient magic behind him, crushing the lone Inferi that was bidding its time under a rock. You smirked. “Are we even now?”
“Not even fucking close,” His face was blank, unamused. Sebastian’s patience has never been the longest but this is one of the few times his ire was aimed at you, the novelty of it would make you blush if you weren’t so guilty. “Where have you been?”
This time it was your smile that fell, eyes dropping with it in shame. Straight to it, huh.
“Sebastian … I left a lett –“
“A letter! You call that a letter?!” He guffawed, turning his back on you and started pacing just at the ledge that led to a very, very, long fall to the bottom of Gringotts. Your fingers twitched to reach out for him but you had a feeling he wasn’t particularly interested in getting mothered right now as he spiraled out the words you’re sure he had surely been holding the past years. “My dearest friend, one who fights trolls for practice and is the most wanted woman of all dark wizards in the country disappears without a trace even when I spent an entire year searching for her –”
He looked for you?
“—but oh no! All is well Sebastian, she left you a bloody note!”
You felt like a reprimanded toddler but maybe (just maybe) you deserved it. “It wasn’t my finest moment.”
Something in your words snapped the last of Sebastian’s nerve. The gall of you – to stand here like it was nothing. The days he had spent tracking you, dreading the moment he would be greeted by your corpse.
How dare you leave? How dare you leave him? Of all the people in this world you were the one who was supposed to stay on his side.
‘I’ll be back. I promise. I just need time’
He marched to where you were standing, cupping both of your shoulders so you can look at him. “I will be given an explanation.”
Instead, your eyes fell on his left hand. He followed your line of sight, the gold band around his finger making all your cruelest nightmares come true.
How did it come to this? You scoured your memories of your entire friendship – how had the two of you come from being unable to keep a single secret from each other to strangers that have too many unspoken grievances in between them?
Was this inevitable?
Finally, you gathered your strength. He did deserve the truth from you of all people. And you could truly never keep a secret from Sebastian even now – which is also why you left. The shame, the unjustified anger, the hurt in your chest when you looked at him – you couldn’t handle it.
“I … I heard from Leander.”
His frown deepened. What does Leander have anything to do with this?
“I was going to visit you on the last weekend of your training. Then Leander caught me in town and he said … he said that after you had finished your auror training you were planning to propose, that you were already looking for a ring.”
He is going to kill that orange blabbermouth fuc –
“I couldn’t – surely, you couldn’t be that daft. I … I loved you, Sebastian! And I know I’m your friend and I should’ve been there for you. And I really am – I am happy for you,” you took his hand, your gentle touch shakily running through the gold band around his ring finger as you tried to hold back the tears. It felt like it was mocking you, like it could burn a mark on your skin. “If anyone deserves to build a family it would be you. I just … in that moment I couldn’t be happy for you. I needed to remove myself from the situation and I couldn’t say goodbye – you wouldn’t have let me! I panicked and I was hurt and … I really am sorry. I’m so sorry, Sebastian.”
As humiliating as it was to say all the hurt that you were carrying with you as you traveled the world to escape your love for him it did make you feel lighter. Were you a coward? Maybe so. But you will not shame your past self for what she did out of hurt and fear. It was painful but necessary.
It wasn’t until Sebastian was cupping your face and wiping your cheeks with his thumb that you realized you had been crying.
“Darling, who did you think the ring was for?”
You blinked, “What?”
You could tell he was trying to lengthen his patience with you, clearly as he was the more emotionally stable one at the moment even though it looked like he was at the precipice of choking you. "Have I ever told you that I was courting anyone?”
The conversation was taking a turn you weren't expecting. “N-No, but Leander and Everett used to keep teasing you about the Ministry girls that was always at your tail so I just assumed …”
He raised his eyebrows, holding onto your cheeks tighter so you had to look at him. For the first time in your entire friendship, you couldn’t read him at all. “I assumed you became interested in one of them.”
He sighed, “No, sweetheart. I did not become interested in any of them.”
You frowned, still feeling the cold ring on your cheek. “Then who did you marry?”
“I’m … not married.” This time it was him who seemed to blush, actually breaking eye contact to chuckle. When he looked back at you it was like you were getting a peek of the boyish Sebastian you once knew. “I would have been if the beautiful witch I had been chasing did not disappear on me right when I was about to propose.”
His words sunk into you like molasses, the wrinkle in between your eyebrows disappearing as your eyes widened in realization. Surely, he doesn’t mean –
“I just wore it since I would’ve been wearing it either way if someone had said yes. And it’s a more effective way to ward off any hopefuls. A little white lie to cover up my bruised heart and spare their egos”
“Wait, wait –“you tried to push him away but one of his arms just wrapped around your back, pushing your chest to his. He wasn’t going to let you get away this time, if he has to cast a binding spell on you without your knowledge then so be it.
The past five years had been torture enough.
“I guess it’s what I deserved. Letting the love of my life wait around just because my pride wanted me to earn the right to ask for her hand. The Hero of Hogwarts, the brightest witch of our age – surely, I couldn’t just ask her, could I?”
The abundance of information threatened to drown your head in. Pieces of the grand puzzle that never seemed to fit right clicking and clacking in your head as you slowly pieced together the blanks in the history of your relationship because you didn’t bother to ask and he didn’t bother to say anything.
He means you right? He was going to propose to you? The bloody ring you’ve been having nightmares about was for you?!
But he had never … I mean sure you flirted here and there but it was nothing … official. No words were ever shared, no announcements, nor formality.
It was all very … murky and ambiguous.
“Hey, back to me, darling,” he gently pressed his thumb that was still holding on to your cheek. “I swear even when we’re together it’s like you’re still running away.” As if suddenly lost in thought himself he murmured, “Should I charm a chain on you, after all?”
You blinked and the dark glint in his eyes that you had only seen in his darkest moments in your fifth year disappeared, now replaced with a small cheeky smile.
“Sebastian, the ring was it – surely it wasn’t –”
“For you?” He was so close now that you could count all the freckles in his face, his lips running through your cheeks, even pressing a kiss on your temple. “Then riddle me this, my love – if not for you then who else would it be for? Hmm? Who else would I be begging to be my wife if not my most treasured friend? The one person who stood beside me through it all?”
Another kiss on your cheeks. “The only light in my life?”
The underside of your jaw. “The beautiful witch who had rudely stolen my heart when we were children then had the nerve to run away with it just as I was able to gather all the courage I had to ask for hers in return?”
He moved both of his hands to wrap around your waist, pulling and pulling and pulling as if he wanted to meld the two of you together. “Who else but you? There was and would’ve been nobody else but you.”
A shadow of a kiss at the edge of your lips. “You’re the only woman I have ever loved.”
Your heart threatens to explode.
“And you’re the only one I will ever love,” he whispered, but the quiet of the caves of Gringotts made his voice echo inside your overheating skull.
You had been aware of Sebastian’s charms when you were younger but now that he was using his pretty face and raspy voice at its full extent while professing his love for you in the murky caves of Gringotts and pieces of Inferi corpses scattered on the ground – you could almost feel your brain malfunctioning.
“I had resigned myself to a life of isolation if you had never come back,” he declared. “But you did. Why?”
He was not going to accept anything less than the truth. The intensity behind his eyes, the grip he has around you was so firm you were almost hanging off the ground. The unbearable weight of your guilt for almost driving this man to insanity even if it had not been your intention had you letting go of your defenses.
“Because I missed you,” you admitted, eyes looking straight at him to finally bare your soul. “And I couldn’t find anything the world could offer that could compare to you. Even if we just remained friends I –”
His chuckle cut you off.
“We could never just be friends,” he whispered, you couldn’t agree more. “We were never just friends. Darling, I’m not a religious man but if soulmates are real then yours and mine have always been tied to each other. And if whatever god is up there was cruel enough not to have done that then I would’ve knotted it myself.”
You giggle through your tears – you had played out so many fantasies of Sebastian’s confessions and yet now that you were living your wildest dreams it felt like your heart was trying to escape your chest.
“If you hadn’t come back, it would’ve done nothing short of killing me, you have to know that,” a ragged breath escapes him as if the mere memory of your escape were enough to cause him physical pain. “Because I love you and I have always loved you even back when I didn’t know what love is. Even when love was a mere flutter in my chest every time I looked at you. Even when I was a fool in a path to destruction I … I have always, always loved you.”
You nodded, almost gasping at the intensity of his words. “I love you too, Sebastian. So much. I would’ve always come back. I couldn’t – I would’ve honestly poisoned your wife if you had married another.”
A laugh exploded out of his mouth at your sudden proclamation, echoing through the eerie corners of the caves. “And I had more than enough daydreams of torturing any lovers you might’ve taken in your travels.” The sickly-sweet tone that contrasted such horrid words had you giggling.
“Think we should stick to each other then?” You roped an arm around his neck, letting him carry your dead weight. “Spare some poor suckers from poisons and murders.”
He grinned, leaning in closer and closer, “You always had been the one with bright ideas.”
You smiled just as he finally pressed his lips into yours. Even your wildest dream couldn’t compare to this. Sebastian’s greedy grip on your waist, his familiar scent, his taste – him. It wasn’t perfect – a bit too rough, too needy yet somehow never enough – it was better, a perfect amalgamation of your entire relationship.
“Marry me,” he commanded in between kisses, too desperate to separate from you for more than a second. “Tell me you’ll have me.”
“You’re mine,” You gasp when he suddenly turned you around and pressed you on the jagged wall of the cave. “Always been mine.”
You’ve never not been mine.
Suddenly, Sebastian ended your kisses, a whine slipping out of your throat which he placated with a quick peck before he haphazardly pulled a necklace of some kind around his neck, snapping it to let the pendant fall into his palms.
Only it wasn’t a pendant. It was a ring. The ring.
“Oh my, Sebastian,” your vision blurs with tears as he gently takes your shaking hand, slipping the beautiful jewelry on your ring finger where it shall sit forever. “It’s beautiful. I can’t wait to marry you.”
He groaned, pressing his forehead to your temple as you continued to admire the ring on your finger.
“You keep buttering me up like this and I’ll have to kidnap the first priest I see when we get out of here.”
“I wouldn’t object to that, we’ve never been one for propriety.”
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“I can’t believe we had our first kiss in Gringott’s of all places,” he muttered, the vibration of his voice tickling your chest as he buries his face in it.
“That wasn’t my first kiss.”
That had his head snapping, eyes murderous at your words. "What?”
“It wasn’t yours either.”
“Huh.”
You nodded slowly, not breaking eye contact as he tries to scour through his memories.
“Remember our fight in the Room of Requirement? About the Triwizards game?”
He winced. “I’d rather not remember that.”
You shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
You settled back, knowing him well enough to know his mind was rapidly working through his memories to figure out the cryptic declaration you had confessed.
It had been frustrating when you had remembered such important event days after it happened. All it had taken was a faint whiff of Sebastian’s shampoo in your pillow in the room of requirement before you were shooting up in your bed at the memories trickling in your brain as you tried to figure out if it had been one of your more apparent daydreams only to scream when you had realized it had happened and the two of you completely forgot about it.
You had become wary of Sebastian then, staring and studying his face at any hint that he also had the luck of remembering such bold confessions from you. You aren’t sure if you were more relieved or disappointed when he showed no inkling of gaining the curse of such knowledge like you.
But at your sudden engagement to him, you believe you have suffered enough of such vexations alone. You are to be married after all which means the two of you shall share every burden from now on -- even the most embarrassing and frustrating ones.
Sebastian’s muscles locked, pushing himself up to cage you in bed as his frantic eyes widened.
You grin. He remembers.
“No fucking way.”
“Yes way.”
He slumps back down in your chest, groaning. “Are you sure you're okay with marrying a bloody idiot?”
Your body shakes with laughter. “Lucky for you, idiots are just my type.”
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So one bit of a writing tip (not just smut, like...any and all forms of writing) is to listen to audio commentaries on your favorite films and shows. As a kid I was such a Simpsons fanatic that I would spend HOURS watching my DVDs with the creator commentary on, and I've been listening to the Gravity Falls commentary and it's been really insightful about how the process worked. It's largely why I dived headfirst into that OC because it's been so fun to try and write stuff myself based on their advice and commentary.
One thing that really struck me and is making me wrestle with my OC is that Alex Hirsch and Matt Chapman explain that of the many things they agonized over and thought through, romantic relationships was never one of them. They comment on the rise of a new "zeitgeist in fans" that was popping up in the mid 2010s about audiences who are motivated to watch by the relationships and endgame ships in a series, and that was NEVER on their mind. What they focused on was what was funny, what would be an interesting plot development, and what would be satisfying to see in terms of plot threads coming together. They also rightly point out that in the real world, a person is never just their relationship with someone else and that a character needs other goals and that shouldn't be their main factor in a story.
As someone who writes OCs and always ships them with a canon character, it's easy to make a character who you primarily create to put into the arms of your character crush. But writing that OC got way more interesting and felt more like a real Gravity Falls character when I had to think about everything else about her separate from Ford. So when it comes to an OC that you want to ship, I recommend writing everything ELSE about them first and keep the ship on a backburner. I haven't had this much fun writing something OC related since I spent hours and hours developing the fake country and culture of my One Piece OC's island; seriously, I made a long ass Google Doc solely dedicated to Romora and its culture and inspiration and how it can tie in to the canon history of the world.
I mean reader self-insert smut has always been my bread and nutritionless butter, but I actually really want to give writing fake episodes of the show a try or like...a longform fic shoving my OC in Gravity Falls while trying to make it fit and seem believable. And writing something almost entirely divorced from my usual wheelhouse of creepy porn is a fun exercise. I mean I still love writing the stuff I do on this blog, but trying something new and out of my established zone is a creative exercise. It reminds me of the stuff I used to write before puberty hit (...and it was all downhill from there)
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I'm wayyyyy behind on this series and still catching up, but so far, Dawn of the Clans is the best arc of Warriors since the original six
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alasy · 1 month
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From now on, I declare The Mirror Visitor is a trilogy. There's no fourth book, trust me. Just enjoy the first three and move on <3
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sexysadie23 · 1 month
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ੈ✩‧₊˚Lady Killer ੈ✩‧₊˚
Rafe Cameron
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Tags | Bestfriend!Rafe Cameron x innocent!reader
Synopsis | Despite having moved to Figure 8 on Kildare in your early teens, you never had many friends. Certainly not in the kook academy, the only place you really had the chance to. But upon attending one of your parents’ country club events, the island suddenly doesn’t seem so lonely.
Warnings | Underage drinking and drugs - misogynistic comments (more exciting things to come in the series!)
Note | This is my first time writing a Rafe fic! This will be just a one shot of how these two characters met, but I will be making this a series eventually! I do include certain elements to reader ie. Being an only child and ‘doe eyes’. If you don’t like that - don’t read it! Reader is like so cute and obsessed with Rafe and he’s like wtf okay?
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For a long time, you thought there was something explicitly wrong with you. You’d moved a couple times in your life, so you’d never really had friends which stuck. You were simply just a phase in other kids your ages’ lives, only to be remembered as ‘that girl which was in our grade’.
It was lonely for a while, and you had learnt to find comfort in the little things. Friday nights in watching your favourite movies, reading in the library at lunch, the birdsong on the walk home from school. Yet moving to Kildare seemed to be where your parents finally decided for you set up camp, and you’d sparked an iota of hope that this is where you would find your people.
Your parents were moderately well off, though certainly not as rich as some families seemed to be at your new home. But you had always had the essentials. On top of them however, was a nice home, a vacation at least once a year and never any need for a part time job. After all, being the only child your parents wanted you to focus solely on your studies at the Kildare Academy, otherwise known as ‘Kook Academy’ - why, you didn’t know really.
You’d never had to wear a uniform before. You were so excited though at 14 years old - wearing your mary janes and blazer which was slightly too big. Your pink JanSport backpack which was bulkier than necessary, a Winnie The Pooh keychain dangling off of it.
“Mom, do you think they’ll like me?” The unadulterated hope in your eyes made your mother smile. She worried about you sometimes. With your wide eyes and kind heart, she feared you were too trusting, sheltered for your age.
“Just be your sunny self, sweetie and they will love you.”
But that was not what happened.
You tried, honestly you tried to make friends. Still nothing seemed to stick. People at the academy had been there for years, with it being a relatively small school full of people from Figure 8 with pre-established friend groups and social standing. You’d entered at an age where teenagers were enraptured with what their peers thought of them, and the girls at the school only judged you for your lack of designer handbag or lack of makeup, lack of status - or whatever problem they could seem to find.
You even came back to the gym lockers to change only to find ‘Chanel’ written over the exed out ‘Jansport’ of your bag. Your mother was infuriated, and insisted you use one of her designer bags to fit in.
You denied, however much you wanted to and were somewhat materialistic, you knew they would just call it a fake or find some other way to deface it. You’d simply washed the backpack, and continue to use it until graduation 2 months ago.
Summer vacations were hard for you. When you saw so many others at parties in big mansions or even on the other side of the island, ‘the cut’ as you learned, or people surfing with their friends, it only served as a reminder of your solitude. So much so that you had resigned to reading in your garden, window shopping online or following your parents around.
This included Midsummer’s. It was a sort of soiree to celebrate…well, actually you weren’t sure what. Being rich, it seemed? That’s what it looked like, as you sat there in your pink tulle ankle length dress, flowers woven throughout your hair tied simplistically with a white ribbon. You idly watched, sipping on a bottle of coca cola as your dad talked business with a fellow doctor from the island.
Obviously, there were kids from the academy there. Many of which you had just graduated with, and all of which were ignoring you - or just didn’t realise you were here. You never pondered too much on your friendlessness, looking at the positives in your life rather than the negatives.
The atmosphere at the party was thriving, and you adored the pageantry. One lady in particular, a blonde fussing over a curly haired tween with glasses was wearing an extravagant headpiece which looked like it could poke out your eye. A girl from the academy around your age stood nearby, wearing white with flowers in her hair as well. She looked pretty, but being from the academy you knew to keep your distance.
It was starting to wear you out, the fact that nobody had asked you a question in 45 minutes. Then and there, you’d decided to at least explore the venue, which had waiters and bar staff scuttling in and out every so often.
“Hi- excuse me.” You tap such a boy on the shoulder, and he swings round to meet you with shaggy blonde hair and blue eyes. “Would you happen to know where the ladies’ bathrooms are?”
He looks somewhat startled, as if he doesn’t actually know what you asked him. “What? Um, sure thing. Just uh- this way my lady.” He nods, in a somewhat boyish way, and leads you to the patio where you follow him through to where the ‘Ladies’ sign hangs on the door.
“Thank you so much, um…” you were selectively shy, but still had manners.
He grins. “JJ - Maybank.” He winks, before he sees something behind you, a blue jacket from whose owner rumbles,
“The hell’s the pogue doing here?”
The blonde smiles at you before dashing off, leaving you to the bathroom where you rearrange the ribbon in your hair and add some extra lip gloss.
You’d hid out there for about 10 minutes, not wanting to return to a party you were already invisible at.
The door to the ladies oscillated as you walk out, determined on telling your parents that you weren’t feeling well and wanted to return home. It sounded better than sitting here, suffocating in your own silence as you watched people from your grade slip each other sips of brandy while they laughed and joked with one another.
You walked past a locker room of sorts, and saw the very same blue jacket from your peripheral before. He appeared to be roughed up: shirt crinkled, a bit of blood on his nose which he held up to the ceiling.
It was curious, but sad to you. Maybe he was bullied like you too? Though you had never been physically assaulted. He looked a similar age to you, but even sitting down seemed much taller. Bigger in general, as his shoulders strained against his tux jacket.
You returned to the ladies and got some tissue from the dispenser. Before entering the locker room, you hesitated. Maybe he would be mean like the other rich kids. But your father’s doctor in you couldn’t let him sit and suffer.
“Hi, are you okay?”
Not looking at you, the boy- man, should you say replies, “God, Sarah I’m fine. Don’t fuckin’ tell dad about this shit alright? I don’t need him hounding me again.” His deep voice reverberated. Despite the harsh language, the smooth drawl was distinct. You liked it.
Your eyebrows furrow, confused at whoever he thought you were. “M’ not- I just came to give you this. You look hurt.” At the hand which was pinching his nose, and failing to stop the stream of blood - you shove a bunch of tissues into.
His eyes widen at the sudden handful of tissues and he lowers his head to look at you properly. He looks you up and down, realising that you are very clearly not his annoying sister.
“Oh, right. Sorry, thought you were my sister but uh, I’m a little bit…out of it right now.” He winced as he sniffled and tried to get the words out, happy that the blood seemed to be absorbing and steadily stopping. “Thanks for, you know this.” He said, gesturing with his free hand to his nose.
It was odd. He seemed weirded out that someone offered him help.
Happy that he didn’t tell you to go away like the other people from the Academy, you sat down beside him with a smile. He looked at you as though you were a bit crazy, but you attributed that to the bruise which was forming on his nose.
“You’re welcome!” You gave him your name, excited at the possibility of making a new friend. “What’s your name?”
This man, in the blue tux and white shirt which had splatters of blood on it now, looked increasingly confused at your eager demeanour. His immediate thought was that you wanted to fuck or hit a bump, given his reputation- yet you asking his name dispelled that thought. You really had no idea who he was. He was pleased about that, for some odd reason.
He could tell by your flouncy dress that you were definitely not a Pogue - thank god - but Midsummer’s was an exclusive islander event, so the other idea of being a touron was out. If not a pogue or a vacationer, then who the hell were you?
“I’m Rafe.” He said. The corner of his mouth twitched, finding it comical how he’s leaving his last name out. He needed to figure out if you had an ulterior motive or something. As most girls, even some of his friends- heck even his own father, often did.
You blushed at his eye contact, you’d never seen such a handsome boy.
He sniffled his nose and winced once more, holding his hand out for you to shake. Truth be told, he found this interaction hilarious. It wasn’t often that people didn’t know his name, or who his father was.
“Rafe.” You whispered, testing it out. “I like it.”
“Um, thanks?”
“Do you live on Kildare?” You asked, though you quickly felt stupid because you were pretty sure everyone at this party did.
“Yeah, yeah I do- look are you looking to hit up a bump or something? I don’t got anything on me right now.” He cut straight to the point. As much as he appreciated the tissues, he had to go and fuck up that Pogue.
This boy, he kept leaving you confused. “M’ sorry, I don’t know- a bump?” What was he talking about? You were only trying to help.
“Yeah princess. A bump. Coke?” He asked, looking equally as confused as you are. He couldn’t imagine why someone would wander into the club’s male locker rooms, not wanting anything no less. It wouldn’t matter anyhow, Barry’s been fucking around and sampling a little too much to get any product pushed at all.
You smile, suddenly understanding his generous offer. “Oh no it’s okay! I already got one the bar but I don’t like to have too many because it’s bad for your teeth.” You supplied, ever the daughter of a doctor and a dentist.
Yet Rafe Cameron sat there, rather stunned. He couldn’t figure out if you were stupid or just sheltered. Half the people his age at this party were already high, or certainly on their way there. Either way, he didn’t really have time to sniff that out.
He chuckled at your obliviousness. “O..kay. Yeah uh- look, I don’t really-”
“Ooh, pretty. Can I?” You got distracted easily, by the stacked rings adorning Rafe’s - very manly - hands. Not awaiting his answer, you grabbed his free hand and started spinning a ring round his finger. This particular ring was a class ring, fairly large and engraved with the wheat symbol.
He was very weirded out by how forward you were being. You looked like you were wearing princess peach cosplay : pink flouncy dress, kitten heels which couldn’t be ignored and a melodic voice that was almost soothing. So what the hell did a cute thing like you want from him?
“Most of em’ are heirlooms, you know generational.” He replied. It was like he wasn’t allowed to have his own hand back, seeing as it had become your new fixation. He felt as though he had a phantom limb, it was there but it sort of just had to sit limp until you were done with it.
“Is it real gold?”
“Course it is.” He smirked. He wouldn’t be caught dead with disingenuous jewellery.
“So pretty.” You whisper to yourself again, seemingly mesmerised by such a beautiful design. You blushed at his very masculine (why did you keep fixating on that?) hands, with lots of veins.
“Veiny…” you ran your fingers along one of his many veins. Then you looked at your own and just saw slightly chubby, much smaller than his, hands.
“Why do you have more veins than me?” You wondered aloud.
“Well, I don’t know don’t guys have like - more muscle n’ shit? I play golf sometimes too. Lotta handiwork.” Rafe shrugged. One thing he did not expect at Midsummer’s, a fucking bore fest every year, was to be interrogated about his veins and have his bling closesly inspected.
“Oh! Here? At the country club?” You ask, a glimmer of hope striking your eyes.
“Couple times a week if I can.”
You nodded. Maybe this Rafe could be your friend!! Because, “I just got enrolled at the country club too. My dad says I need to get out more…maybe I’ll play tennis. Or golf! Like you.” You were not one for exercise, but you can’t simply stay at home all day every day.
“I mean- that shit’s more like a guy thing in the club. Most chicks just go to the brunch or the sauna.” He says, being honest. It’s mostly just housewives who like the spa and gym facilities.
That dejected you. “Oh.” You said, looking down and finding his hands again.
Rafe noticed this and felt a twinge of guilt; “But, y’know, maybe you could still try it out. They got teachers n shit to help you.”
He was glad to see the smile return to your face at that. “I dunno. Just need to do something this summer.” Other than reading or dwelling on how your parents couldn’t hang out with you. It was becoming pathetic.
Rafe’s bleeding had finally stopped so he threw the tissue in the trash. “Is my nose all fucked up?” He asked. “My dad’ll kill me if he sees I got in a fight.”
Upon inspection of his face, you realised that he was very handsome. Perfectly symmetrical with a good jawline. “Uh-uh,” you replied. “S’ just a lil’ red. Like a reindeer.”
He smiled at the comparison, looking to the ceiling as he poked and prodded his nose. “Okay, it ain’t broken so that’s good.”
“Rafe?”
“Yeah?”
“Who’d you get in a fight with? Is someone bullying you?” You question with conviction in your voice, full of compassion and sympathy. That made the Cameron smile a genuine smile. Not many people cared or paid mind to his antics. Never had he been seen as the victim before either.
He laughed at the idea of someone bullying him. He was a Cameron - he was untouchable. The scrunch of your eyebrows which indicated your genuine worry for him was rather endearing though.
“Bullied? Nah. S’ just- s’ just these freakin’ Pogues y’know? Can’t trust em’, even on our side of the island.” He shook his head, turning to face you more on the bench. He got viscerally agitated at the mention of these ‘pogues’, whoever they were.
“Pogues?” You question. You’ve lived here for roughly three years and have never heard of this group. Were they a band?
Rafe noted your confusion once more. “Yeah, from the cut. Just a bunch of lowlifes and basket cases. Don’t associate with them, okay?”
You appreciated how he was giving you advice. No one ever really told you the ins and outs of Kildare, so you were grateful for his guidance. “O-okay. How do I know who is a Pogue?” You wondered.
“Well y’know. They’ll prolly try and steal from you. They look roughed up a lot. Not a lot of money on that side of the island.”
“Ohh. Okay. If they’re Pogues then what are we?”
He looked you up and down - yeah you were definitely part of that ‘we’. “I guess they’d call us kooks. Kooks and pogues sort of don’t mix. S’ why they’re on the cut and we’re here on figure 8 y’know. They just forgot tonight to stick to their land.”
Your eyebrows scrunched up, “So the Pogues beat you up? Should I talk to them?”
Rafe Cameron let out a closed mouth laugh as he was becoming increasingly endeared with your naïveté. Moreover, the way you seemed to truly care. Your big wide eyes focused on him as he considered how to answer.
“I mean they tried. You should see the other guy. But uh- nah. Don’t bother talking to them. They’re pretty set in their ways. Don’t bother going to the cut either. Nothing there for a girl like you.” He warned. He could only imagine the ways a guy like JJ Maybank could take advantage of you and your obvious innocence.
“Alright. Thanks for the advice Rafe.” You gave a tentative smile and blush. This Rafe was really handsome. You could tell from beneath his shirt and jacket that he was muscular. The way his thighs strained against his suit. His neck which had veins branching out all over and a prominent adam’s apple.
He nodded while pursing his lips. He went to speak but a figure appeared at the door.
“Rafe man, cmon’ let’s get out of here. Sarah’s ignoring me and the Pogues crashed. We need to go.” A boy wearing a similar suit to Rafe was. He was tall and blonde, but definitely not as cute as Rafe was! Not to you anyways.
“Uh,” Rafe looked at you and then to his friend. He looked like he wanted to say something. “Y-yeah Top m’ coming. Jus’ meet me outside alright? Shit’s in the glove compartment.”
You saddened at the thought of your new friend leaving. You were just getting to know each other!
He turned back to you and assessed you one more time. Doe eyes met his as you waited for him to speak.
“Maybe I’ll see you around huh? At the club or something.”
Your smile gleamed once more as the prospect of seeing Rafe again. He was just so nice and helpful! You were definitely going to have to use that membership now. Your head moved up and down to indicate a shy yes.
He smirked as he stood, looking down as you remained on the bench. From this angle, he looked just so much bigger. Like a predator eyeing its prey as he loomed over you.
“Alright then. Remember what I said, no pogues.” He warned again, sniffing his nose.
You nodded, still not fully understanding but trusting this Rafe guy’s word. He seems smart. “No Pogues.” You echo back, effectively bringing out his boyish grin.
“Okay, good. Good girl. I’m gonna go so just enjoy the rest of the party okay? Be seein’ you.” He said as he exited the room backwards, jutting his chin towards you before taking off entirely.
There was a fuzzy feeling brewing in your stomach. Glee. It was pure, unadulterated glee. What had started out as a boring party had turned into a monumental moment for you. You’d just made your first real friend on Kildare. And he hinted that he would want to see you again! And he was super pretty and muscular and tall! Though you didn’t know what that had to do with it.
You decided that you’d go home and go shopping for some country club outfits. Something to make you look cute, probably pink. You wilted at the thought of actually trying to learn golf, but if it meant you could maybe one day play with Rafe - then you would do it.
You just couldn’t wait.
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Author’s Note : Ahhh! My first fic. I love reader she is just so cute and wholesome like LOL she thinks this guy wants to be her friend. Later in this series she’s really only comfortable w Rafe since he is basically her only friend and is super shy w other people. This was just to set up and show how they met!! I hope you enjoyed :-D
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coryosbaby · 8 months
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1. 𝓑𝓲𝓻𝓽𝓱𝓭𝓪𝔂 𝓢𝓮𝔁
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𝓢𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼: Inviting your incredibly nice and incredibly married family friend to your birthday party was not meant to be a way of seduction— or was it?
𝓢𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼 #2: You clean your neighbor and family friend Anakin’s house, and he comes to your birthday party with a special gift.
𝓒𝔀: bimbo! Reader, infidelity, age gap (reader is twenty, Anakin is in his mid to late thirties)— nsfw . oral (m & f recieving), vaginal fingering, smell kink, daddy kink, sub! Reader, dom! Anakin | | 𝓝𝓲𝓬𝓴𝓷𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓼 𝓾𝓼𝓮𝓭: angel, baby, little girl, sweetheart, dollface, kid, honey
𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮: This is part 1 of the Insatiable series ! (Click link for series masterlist)
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You’ve never really liked Padme.
And honestly, it’s clear that she doesn’t like you that much either. You don’t know why— you’ve always been nothing but fake nice to her.
At least you have a reason to hate her— that reason being her absolute sex symbol of a husband. Or, aka, a man that’s been hanging around your family for as long as you can remember.
Your hate for Padme originally spawned from the fact that she married Anakin. But as the years have went on, your hate for her has reigned even more clearer than before. She lies, steals Anakin’s money, and cheats— a lot. You know about the last part because you’ve seen random men spew in and out of the house when Anakin is working to make money and pay for the things that she wants. And it enrages you— you don’t understand how she could treat someone as perfect, handsome, and kind as Anakin so terribly.
If he was yours, you would never let him go.
You decide to invite Anakin’s to your birthday party.
Of course, he’s always went to them— but reminding him wouldn’t hurt, right? So, on a sunny summer day, you decide to walk across the street to his house. A box of cookies in your hand and in your favorite short skirt due to the scorching hot weather, you knock and wait for him. When he answers, he’s in nothing but a t shirt and boxers. The sight of his muscled thighs and his strong arms makes you a little weak in the knees, but you try to shove your sinful thoughts down. It seems that Padme is gone— thank god. If she knew you were here, she’d have your head.
“Hi, Ani!” You greet sweetly. Although run down and exhausted, Anakin still gives you a smile back. You always lighten the man’s mood.
“Hi, sweetheart.” he replies back.
“Nice day, isn’t it?”
“I guess it is,” his eyes had avert down to the clear box in your hands, the lid pink and adorned with hello kitty stickers. “Are those for me?”
“Mhm! ” you say excitedly. “I just made them! I knew you’d want some.”
Of course you did. You always give your neighbors sweet treats— Anakin the most often, because he’s your favorite. And because you know he loves the things you bake.
Anakin’s steps towards you, a small smile playing on his lips.
“Always know when I need something sweet, don’t you, honey?”
He looks at you with true affection, though you can sense something teasing underneath that pleased lilt. You can feel heat creeping up your neck as he grabs the box from you.
“Thank you.” He says, after a moment. “Have a nice day.”
He goes to shut the door. You shuffle nervously, and then loudly, you blurt out, “Wait! You’re coming to my birthday party this weekend, right?”
Anakin’s brows furrow as he opens the door back up, but he seems amused by your question.
“Do you want me to?”
“I-I mean—“ you stutter, rolling forward on the balls of your feet. “Of course I do.”
“Hmm…” he pretends to think for a moment, a small smile grazing his lips. “And what do I get in return? I’d have to take a day off, if it’s on a Friday…”
Shit. It is on a Friday. You bite your lip, doe eyes looking around as you come up with a plan.
“I’ll.. clean your house?”
It’s a dumb suggestion, one that makes Anakin crane his neck to look back at his slightly cluttered home. He tries to act serious as he looks back at you and crosses his arms.
“What, do you think my house is… dirty, or something?”
You flush, immediately shaking your head.
“No! No, Ani, that’s not what I meant. I- I just… I know you work a lot, so I assume that it’d take a lot of strain off of you. God, I’m sorry-“
“I’m fucking with you,” he interrupts. A smirk glazes his lips. “I know what you meant.” His eyes sweep across your body, and you feel a little dizzy. After a moment, he relaxes and his face splits into a grin.
“Of course I’ll come to your birthday party, kid. Y’know I always do.”
“Okay!” You smile sheepishly, but nervously bite your lip as you speak again. “Uhm.. you don’t have to get me anything. Not at all.”
“I’m gonna get you something.” He states bluntly.
“Okay! That’s— that’s fine.” Your eyes avert from his piercing gaze, something that you should be used to after all these years but aren’t. “I’ll still clean your house, though. I can do it right now, if you want!” You pause, trying to think of how to word the next sentence.
“I… I wanna do something nice for you, Ani.”
There it is again. That look in Anakin’s eyes, hungry, as he steps closer to you once again.
“Well…” he murmurs. ““…Aren’t you just a sweet little girl?”
He brings his fingers up to tank top, toying with the thin material.
You’re slick with wetness, and suddenly feel very shy. Your eyes look down at the wooden porch below you as his fingers brush up on your collarbone. You’re too flustered to really speak again.
Anakin, done with his teasing (for now), steps back and gestures towards the inside of his home.
“Go on,” he says. “Cleaner’s in the cabinet below the sink. You know how I like things to be organized.”
Getting the yellow sponge handed to you wet and sudsy, you begin to work on his kitchen counters first. It’s not like they’re gross, per say— his house is more cluttered than nasty. As you intensely work on getting the countertop nice and clean, you can feel Anakin’s gaze pierce through your skin. He had decided to sit at the bar of the kitchen a few moments ago, after finishing half of the container of fresh chocolate chip cookies. Now clad in a pair of jeans and a white wifebeater, he lights a cigarette in his hand. Finally finishing up the counters, you decide to work on the dishes.
Anakin moves to the other side of the bar. He always keeps a radio in this spot, and with idle hands he turns the knob to up the volume a bit. You smile when you hear a Brittany Spears song blaring through the speakers. It’s not Anakin’s taste, but he keeps it on anyways. He knows Brittany is one of your favorite artists.
“So,” he starts, beginning to strike up a conversation. “Twenty one, huh?”
You nod, as you pick up the dish sponge in front of the sink.
“Yeah. Legal drinking age— thank god.” You chuckle, remembering all the times that Anakin had brought you alcohol when you wanted some but couldn’t buy it.
“You’re growing up so fast,” he inquires. You hear rustling behind you— he must be moving around the kitchen. “Not a little girl anymore… ‘s really starting to freak me out.”
“I guess so,” you laugh.
“Time flies.”
It’s quiet after that, for a moment. But something creeps up your neck, like Anakin’s eyes are burning through the back of your skull.
You can feel his presence moving closer to you.
Closer… closer.
And with wide eyes, you feel his breath on the back of your neck.
When did he get so close?
Anakin can’t help but stare at your behind as he watches you— your body is absolute stunning, your thighs soft and absolutely kissable. He loves watching the gap in between your legs as you shift from foot to foot. Loves watching and imagining what your pussy must look like. Probably so wet, so tight underneath that skimpy little outfit. His cock aches at the thought.
He’s feeling bold, now. He doesn’t know why — maybe because he saw his wife leave in a random car earlier that morning, or maybe because he saw the explicit pictures on her phone sent to another man the night before that had caused him to get extremely wasted. But either way, his fingertips reach up and graze your hip.
You exhale sharply, his touch setting off fireworks on your skin.
“It’s different now, isn’t it?” You say, and the insinuation in the question is obvious.
Anakin’s fingertips continue to brush your hips, and then slowly— he wraps his arms around you. Hugging you from behind, pressing his face into your neck and his obvious hard on against your ass.
“Yeah,” he agrees quietly. White hot heat licks up your spine at his gruff voice. “…very different.”
You know it’s fucked. You know it’s wrong. You know he’s fifteen years your senior, you know that he’s married, and you know that he’s been a family friend for years.
But something is tempting you to turn around.
Call it instinct, but your body adjusts to come face to face with the older man. He was closer than you thought he would be. His lips are almost grazing yours. Anakin’s got a look on his face that can only be described as holding back. His eyes shine with desperation and lust.
“Can I kiss you?”
It’s a sentence that seems to be more of a beg than a question. You can’t help but nod. And slow, like an awaiting storm, his lips are on yours— and that slowness soon gives way to electric sparks and teeth and tongue. His arms wrap around your waist, covering your body with his much wider one. He tastes like cigarettes and booze.
Your body is shoved against the sink. Anakin’s tongue rubs against the roof of your delicious, wet mouth. He can’t get enough. He kisses you and kisses you until lips feel bruised.
You savor this feeling, of him using your mouth as his own personal meal. And you fucking love it. No amount of guilt in your body can outweigh the neediness you have for him. Your arms wrap around his neck, and you part your legs so he can rest his hips against you. His jeans catch on your skirt— the flimsy material lifts up past your thighs. He follows the expanse of your legs and takes sight of your pink lacy underwear. Its cute, Anakin thinks, and his thumbs are about to pull them down and ravage you.
But you’re interrupted. Because as quick as lightening, Anakin’s phone is blaring out it’s loud call ringtone.
Jumping back, you and him are both surprised. He huffs, wiping at his kiss bitten lips as he makes way to pick up his phone.
The caller id reads “Padme”.
And fuck, you want to kill yourself right now. Of course, it has to be her of all people.
You hate her.
Anakin is quick to answer, and you can’t hear anything but a distraught voice on the other line.
“Padme? What is it?” His voice is laced with concern, but he lets out a breath when she yells something else. He sighs, his eyes glancing at your for a quick second as he rubs the bridge of his nose in frustration.
“Fuck. Okay, okay! I’ll come get you, just— stay there, alright?”
He hangs up with a groan, and turns to you.
“It’s just— Padme. Being Padme. She crashed the car… again. She’s fine, though.”
Unfortunately. You want to say. But you bite your tongue.
And just like that, the tension between you and Anakin goes back into hiding once again.
Friday comes quicker than you expect.
Your father and mother wake you up with your favorite breakfast, and you pick out your birthday outfit. It’s a pink dress with puffy sleeves, and you’ve been wanting to wear it for this occasion for months. Your birthday cake is your favorite flavor and decorated— of course— with hello kitty plastered on the frosting.
Your mother gushes at your dress, deciding to take many, many, many pictures of you. But you don’t complain— you’re grateful of all the decorations that she’s put up for you. They suit your taste.
You would’ve invited your friends but you figured this would be a family only type gathering. You may have a second party reserved just for them later.
It’s not long before your relatives arrives. Five o’clock on the dot, your cousins, uncles, aunts, and grandparents have all showed up. You open a few presents, have a good time, have some shots for the first time in front of your family. It’s fun.
But he still hasn’t showed up.
Looking at the clock— half past six now— you can’t help but be disappointed and upset. Anikan promised he would be here!
Your gut starts to churn with different anxieties. What if it was because of that moment back in his kitchen? What if he never wants to speak to you again?
But then, there he is. You hear the familiar roar of his black convertible outside— and your heart instantly soars.
He comes in a bit disheveled, as if he had rushed to get here, with a band tee and black jeans on. The way he still dresses like a young and corrupted boy amuses you— and also turns you on just a little bit.
He smiles when he sees you, and of course you smile right back. You’re so thankful he didn’t make Padma tag along with him— that would completely ruin this entire day.
“Hey, kid,” he says, as he pulls you in for a hug. His fingers trail down past your lower back and graze your ass, though know seems to notice.
“Hey, ani.”
“Happy birthday.” He congratulates you.
You thank him, and his eyes linger on yours for a bit too long as he speaks.
“You look nice.”
The butterflies tingle in your tummy again.
“So do you.”
And after that, it’s not long before everyone else recognizes his arrival and your dad is sweeping by and pulling him into one of his conversations.
As the night goes on, more of your family members slowly begin to leave. You prefer it this way; your judgy aunt Hilda was becoming way too much for you to bear right now. You’re sitting on the living room couch with your mom when she asks you to go and get her bag from the kitchen.
And when you go into the room, Anakin is there. And not only that, but he’s alone. He’s leaned up against your refrigerator drinking a beer.
Your eyes lock with his, and he follows the outline of your curves as you pick up your mom’s bag.
“Everyone leaving?”
His voice rings out through the room, piercing the awkward silence. You shrug, becoming intensely concentrated on the granite countertops all of a sudden.
“It’s late.” You reply. And then, in a smaller voice, “You were late.”
He sighs, and you look back to see him running his hands through his dark locks of hair. He looks frustrated.
“I know, honey. Im sorry. I had work, you know that. And… Padma’s been giving me a rough time.”
“When isn’t she?”
It isn’t meant to come off as snarky as it does, but your comment has Anakin huffing out a breath of air.
“Don’t give me attitude, okay? Im here, aren’t I?” He moves beside you, a look of guilt flashing across his face. You don’t say anything— you simply look at him with those eyes. Those pretty, doe like eyes that Anakin can’t bring himself to stop looking into. His eyes trail down to your lips.
“We should talk,” He says. “About..last weekend.”
You really don’t want to. That’s all you can gather right now. You half heartedly take your mom’s bag into your grasp and gesture towards it.
“I have to go give this to my mom,” you mutter. “See you around, Anakin.”
The night is over, but Anakin still hasn’t left. You wouldn’t expect him too, though. He stays over late once or twice a week sometimes to chat with your father. You’ve showered, gotten rid of the pesky hairdo that had taken you hours to do and was so frustrating the whole night but still was worth it anyway, and painted your toes a fresh, hot pink. You’re extremely happy to have your nightgown on, now. That dress was very tight.
Your bedroom door is open, but you don’t mind it. You can hear the sound of a football game from downstairs as you read one of your favorite magazines. Too busy wondering which breaking bad character you are through a printed out quiz in the booklet, you don’t even realize Anakin is at your door until he knocks.
It makes you jump, and when you whirl around to see who it is your bones almost jump out of your skin.
“You scared the shit out of me!” You exclaim. You slam the magazine down onto your vanity, and Anakin chuckles.
“Sorry.”
His footsteps approach you, but not before they’re moving so he can close your door shut. You become drastically nervous now that he’s alone with you. He must’ve made up some excuse about having to go to the bathroom so he could sneak up here.
“What are you doing in here, Ani?” You question feebly. He shrugs, taking a seat on your silky pink bed.
“What? Do I have to have an excuse to see the birthday girl?”
You shyly turn back to face your Vanity mirror. You begin to concentrate on brushing your hair. In the reflection you can see that Anakin is watching you.
“We both know that’s not why.” You reply quietly.
“I guess you’re right,” Anakin agrees. “Maybe it’s because I want us to continue where we left off. ”
Face flushing, you baffle yourself by throwing out an unintentionally disgusting line.
“So you wanna do me in my bedroom while my dad is downstairs? Is that it?”
Anakin smirks, amused, leaning back and seeming cocky. He doesn’t say anything, but you know that the answer is yes.
You turn around, watching this older man manspreading on your bed. Against your better judgement you decide to get out of the chair and sit beside him.
He smiles fondly at the closeness. His fist closes around something in his pocket.
“I got you something.” He says. “Your present. Open your hand.”
It’s a scary request, because Anikan has played tricks on you before by telling you this. Sticking a whole snake in your hand one time and making you cry for hours on end after is proof of how much of an asshole he can be sometimes. But he seems to be genuine, and this is your birthday present, so you hold out your hand for him to take.
He pulls out a box. Anyone could recognize it as one that has jewelry inside the packaging. And you were right. Because when you open it, you’re blessed to see a beautiful set of diamond earrings encrusted with your initials.
You gasp, picking them up and admiring them with excitement.
“Thank you so much, Ani!”
Your gushing over the present makes Anakin’s chest swell, and he’s surprised when you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for a hug.
It’s been a while since Anakin has been hugged like this. Padme hasn’t touched him in months, or shown him any type of affection. Surprised but pleased, he’s quick to return it, his big arms wrapping around your waist and burying his face in your neck. The smell of your natural scent and strawberry perfume fills his nostrils. He pulls away after a moment. You see the wedding band on his finger, and it brings reality back to you.
“Where’s Padme?” You ask slowly, questionably, but still genuinely curious.
He doesn’t seemed angry by the question, but Anakin’s mouth forms into a thin line.
“Out.” he states. “Probably fucking some random guy she met on tinder.”
“She doesn’t deserve you,” You say, and frown, hand reaching out to touch his bicep. “You’re so nice, and she’s so mean to you. I hate her.”
“Don’t say that. You’re too nice to hate anybody.”
“But it’s true!” You exclaim. “I hate her.” And then, quietly. “She has you and I don’t… ‘S not fair.”
Anakin doesn’t like when you get sad, and he especially doesn’t like when you remind him of that fact.
“I’m not hers, y/n.” He replies, and it’s the truth. His feet move closer to your angry form. “I never have been.”
“Then why are you still with her? Why aren’t you with me?”
“How do you expect me to be with you, y/n? What do you think everyone would say?”
It’s actually a good point, but you dont want to think about that right now.
His arms wrap around your waist, and his face finds the crook of his neck as he breathes you in. You sigh, looking up to the ceiling, your pink curtains, anything but him.
“I want you,” he whispers to you. You try so hard not to look at him. “I want you so bad, angel.”
“You don’t know what you want, Anakin.”
“Fifteen years older than you and I don’t know what I want?” He scoffs, his lips forming into a thin line. “I know what I want.”
His voice takes a much darker turn then, something twinged with arousal and feral possession. “I want to bend you over your vanity and pound my cock into you until I can’t see straight. I want to kiss you, hold you… I’ve wanted it since you were nineteen years old. Cmon, sweets. Why don’t you let me in?”
Let me in. You shiver, and your clothes become unbearably uncomfortable on your body.
“I don’t know, Ani..”
“It’s okay, baby.” He coos, comforting. “Why don’t you let uncle Ani give you the second part of your birthday present, huh? Cmon, let me make you feel good.”
Its once again, truly fucked.
But with the way he’s holding you now, with the words spilling from his lips in that tone.. god, your knees are buckling. You sigh, and mindlessly you begin to run your hands down his body.
“I don’t want you to ever mention Padme to me” you reason with him, as your hands circle his waist. “Ever. Only ever talk about me.”
“I won’t mention her. She’s dead to me.”
You contemplate more deals to make, and then pout. “And I want to be paid for all that cleaning I did last week!”
“Done.”
It’s insane how quickly he agrees to what you want. But alas, he does.
And when his lips press against yours for a second time, you can’t resist falling into him and finally giving in.
To Anakin, you taste like your chapstick— he doesn’t know what flavor it is, but he wants to figure it out soon so he can buy it for himself and always have that familiar sweetness on his mouth. His arms wrap around your waist and he’s desperate, practically consuming you with a neediness he has never felt for anyone else. His teeth scrape against your bottom lip and you feel his tongue enter the warm canal of your mouth. Mewling and pulling yourself away, you press your half naked body against him and begin to trail kisses down his neck.
“Wanna suck you…” you whine. “but—your house— not here..”
Your hands grope his thighs, then one of them moves up and takes hold of his awaiting bulge. He’s big, and you can tell by how fat he feels in your palm already. He lets out a moan, pressing himself further into you and breathing against your cheek, “Yes, here.”
And so be it. You know once Anakin decides something, it’s going to get done. If he wants it, you’ll give it to him. You drop to your knees in an instant, previous request forgotten, pawing at the confines of his jeans and unbuckling his belt. He watches you through hooded eyelids, watches the way your mouth practically drools as you pop the button on his fly and unzip him. His briefs are almost cute. They have little looney toons characters on them. Scoffing and letting out a giggle at the sight of these on a thirty six year old man, who probably knew he was gonna get laid, you look up at him.
“Nice underwear.”
“Shut up,” he groans, gripping your hair with his big hands. “Just suck my cock, baby. C’mon, please?”
Slick forms and leaks down your thighs at his words. Jokes forgotten, you pull the silly material down and his aching cock springs free. Slapping against his stomach, all big and thick with a patch of brown hair at the base, you can see a drop of precum beading on the tip. Your thumb brushes over the spot and smears the creamy liquid around the head of his cock. He exhales sharply, his grip on your hair tightening.
“Shit,” he hisses, eyes shutting closed at the feeling of your hands.
“Ani,” you breathe. Your tongue licks a stripe up his cock, licking up the dribbles of fluid you had just smeared. You lick your lips with need. “You taste so good.”
“Yeah?” He bucks his hips against your face, watching how you greedily slurp his cock into your mouth. “Look at you, baby. Such a needy girl.”
You hum around him, making sure to breathe so the man doesn’t strangle you with his fat cock. The smell of his arousal invades your senses, and your head gets fuzzy. You down him all the way to his base— pressing your nose against the hair there, you almost pass out from how good it all is. He smiles, watching how easily you submit to him. He begins to thrust shallowly into your mouth.
“So fuckin’ good, angel. ” He grunts. “Take it this isn’t the first cock you’ve sucked? Shit— too good at it to not have been dicked down or throat fucked at least twice.”
You moan around him, knowing it’s true. But all the men you’ve hooked up with, they’ve always been older, brunette, with tattoos and an interest in ratty band t shirts— all of them have looked like Anakin. They’ve always looked like Anakin.
Looking down at you, Anakin’s gaze is hypnotized by your glossed lips moving up and down on his cock. His balls slap against your chin at a rapid pace, his cock aching for a warm release. He thinks about what you look like underneath that dress, thinks about how you’re such a fucking bitch for making him give into his raw and primal sensations like this.
“Don’t think you need to call me Anakin anymore, baby,” he inquires, with a growl grazing his plump lips. “Fuck… think you need a daddy, instead. One that’ll actually discipline you—“ he yanks on your head when you try to lift up and get some air, forcing you back down on him. “— and not let you act like a fuckin’ brat. Do you like tempting married men all the time like this, huh? Do you like tempting all of your dad’s friends? Don’t lift your fucking head up, baby, ‘m not done…”
Whining against his cock, your hand moves down against your clit. His degradations are making you desperate to reach your peak— and as fucked up as it is, yes, you do want to call him daddy, want him to take care of you and always keep your throat as his own personal fleshlight for his aching prick. His grip on your hair is causing blinding pain but it doesn’t matter.
As long as you please him.
He finally pulls you off of him, after a moment. Your chin is caked with drool, your eyes watery and tears streaming down your cheeks. You’re gasping, finally gulping in air after being smothered for so long.
“Breathe, honey,” Anakin murmurs, sweet despite his initial angry throat fucking. His thumb grazes your bottom lip. “Breathe for me.. there you go. Good girl.”
Relaxing against his thighs, you’re unbearably hot.
“Daddy..” you cry against him, wrapping your arms around his thick thigh. He frowns.
“Too much?” He asks, concerned. “Do you wanna stop? Or we could take a break..”
His caring demeanor makes your heart clench, and you can feel the tears actually stream down your cheeks now. No one has ever cared for you like this.
But as overwhelmed as you’re feeling, your pussy aches like no other and if you stop for even a millisecond you think you’ll die. You shake your head.
“No, daddy.“
He looks down at you, brows furrowed, and he nods.
“Okay, pretty. Cmon, stand up.” He gestures for you to get onto your feet, and when you ask why, he leans in close to your ear and gestures to your large vanity.
“I wanna fuck you.” He coos gently. “Wanna bend you over, right there. Can I?”
You nod as you pick yourself up on wobbly legs. You fall into him, allowing him to guide you over to the large table. He bends your pretty body over it, your ass in the air.
Anakin’s fingers play with the hem of your night. He loves it on you, thinks the color is so sweet and hypnotizing, but it has to come off or he thinks he’ll go crazy. He lifts up the fabric, yanking the material off to reveal yourself to him. Your cunt is exposed, all puffy, creamy, and slick. Anakin takes note that you aren’t wearing underwear and that your ass is almost too perfect. His hand comes down to lightly smack one of your cheeks. You whine, backing yourself up against him.
“Like a fuckin’ porn star,” he groans. “Body like a fuckin’ porn star, dollface. It’s perfect. And no panties? Sweetheart, you’re a dream.”
His finger ghosts over your swollen clit, and your hips buck against him desperately.
“Thank you, daddy. Wanted to be ready for you. Knew I wouldn’t be able to stay way if you started touching me..”
He smiles, his fingers spreading your slick across your button and down to your slit. He slips a finger inside, and you gasp a little bit. He rubs against your walls with his long digits, and he hits a certain spot that has your thighs crushing his hand. A smile forms on his face.
“Already?” He chuckles as he watches your desperation, rubbing against that spongy spot inside you. Your legs quiver. “Have you ever even been fingered before?”
“N-N-“ you pause, as he slips in another finger beside his first one. He begins to thrust rapidly, a burn forming in your core but nonetheless it feels fucking amazing. “No, no guy’s ever wanted to.”
“How the fuck could they not want to?” Anakin scoffs, baffled. Your wetness coats his fingers in creamy strings as he pulls them in and out of you. “Jesus, you’ve really been needing me. Huh, baby?”
“Always need you,” you whine. You’re close already; it’s insane how much Anakin’s touch affects you. Your wetness makes a loud gushing sound as he continuously finger fucks you. After a moment there’s rustling behind you, and Anakin’s fingers leave you. You whimper, but it’s not long before you’re moaning again when Anakin drops to his knees.
You’ve always dreamed of his tongue; watched how it looked poking his bottom lip, when he rubbed the inside of his cheek and made a noticeable bulge. And now, spreading your pussy lips with his strong hands, Anakin doesn’t hesitate to dive into your drenched cunt.
You gasp, his tongue beginning to draw harsh circles on your clit and then go back down to your tight hole. He pushes the muscle in as far as it can go, feeling against your walls. He practically whines as he does it— never in his life, not even with the woman he had decided to marry ten years ago, has he ever tasted a pussy this good. His cock is still out and rubbing against your calf, all wet and red and hard.
And after he makes you cum, he intends to split you in half with it.
He begins gliding his tongue over your clit again, and shoves his fingers back inside of you. Working you over and over, you can feel that you’re about to reach your peak. You can’t even say anything— his tongue is too perfect, too wet and warm against your aching bundle of nerves. The only thing that can leave your lips is his name as you cream all over his handsome face. You ride your high out with your hand behind you, burying itself in his black hair.
Breathing heavily, Anakin moves back up to grab your neck and turn your face towards his. He kisses you, passionate and with something else you can’t quite place. He grinds his cock against your lower back.
“Gonna fuck you now,” he grunts, as he lifts one of your legs up onto the vanity’s surface. It gives him easier access, and he bumps his tip up against your entrance. “You okay with that?”
You nod instantly.
At your confirmation, Anakin breaches your hole and pushes in slow.
It hurts at first. You’ve taken cock but never any as big as his. He holds your leg with one hand and your hip with the other. You can feel every ridge, every vein as he breaks you apart on him. Your head is down and the vanity digs into your skin, but it doesn’t matter because the way that Anakin holds you makes you feel safe, protected. As if your entire family isn’t downstairs, as if he isn’t taking you like a cheap whore in your childhood bedroom, while his wife is taking a ride in the car that he bought for her.
But you don’t think about that. You just close your eyes, bite your lip, and gratefully accept the birthday present beginning to pound your guts.
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classyrbf3 · 23 days
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STILL IN LOVE! #1 — TOJI FUSHIGURO
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SYNOPSIS...after still messing around with your ex husband, you began to wonder if you’re still in love with him after finding out about his new girlfriend…
INFO...ex husband!toji x fem!reader, reader & toji have two kids, megumi is readers bio son, jealousy, smut, angst, arguments, alcohol, drinking problem, family problems, arguing in front of kids, toxic behaviors, crying, mentions of divorce
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
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ex husband! who stops by your house to drop your kids off after their weekend with him. He’s walking your daughter, Naya, and Megumi to the front door, smiles adorning their chubby little faces. “Hi, mommy!” Naya giggles, running to hug you. Toji is walking slowly behind Megumi, ruffling the little boys hair.
“Hi, baby.” You smile, kissing her cheek. “You two have fun with daddy?” You hug Megumi as well, kissing the top of his head.
“Yeah, we met dad’s new girlfriend,” the little boy casually says as he walks past you and into the house to place his stuff down. Your raise your eyebrows in surprise, eyes following your sons figure before he disappears into the house.
“She’s in the car! Her name is Yoko!” Your daughter giggled before following her brother. You awkwardly clear your throat as it was only you and toji standing outside.
“Girlfriend, huh?” You force a smile, rubbing your palms on your jeans as you stare at him.
“Yeah, those two beat me to it before I could say anything,” he chuckled. “How was your weekend, though, mama?” He tilts his head slightly. The familiar nickname now a normal thing between you two ever since you gave birth to your two kids. From the looks of it, it seems like Toji won’t break out of the habit of saying it.
"Wow, well...congrats." You smile. There was a burning sensation in your chest, a ringing in your ears as you stared at the man in front of you. It was wrong of you to feel this way about the situation, to feel jealous. Toji was your ex husband, you two cut ties over a year ago.
"Yeah, thanks." He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. The thing about you and Toji is that there was still something there that neither of you wanted to confront. The sex that you both still had with each other wasn't just casual sex, him whispering in your ear how much he missed you. How he'd hold you after and gently kiss your lips reminded you of the times you were still together. The nights he slept over and stayed for breakfast, bonding like one big family. How he still brought you gifts for your birthday and valentines day despite not being together. You weren't sure what to make of it, but knowing Toji, you knew not to take him seriously.
He was a player before you met him and you wouldn't be surprised if he ended becoming a player again. And that was the case exactly. As much as you told yourself not to fall for all his little tricks, you still found yourself doing it anyway. He was your husband for over five years, he was the father of your children. How could you not? It's why you feel so jealous now. It only seems that he was using you and playing you before he found himself another girl to entertain him. Of course, what more could you expect?
"Okay, I'll see you next weekend, mama." He turned around so effortlessly, walking off of your doorstep with a small wave.
"See you," you nonchalantly replied. Your eyes followed his figure as he got into his car, watching him kiss the new girl he had eyes for. Would it be wrong for you to say you were still in love with your ex husband?
series masterlist
tag list (comment to be added):
@sweetpo1son @lovebittenbyevans @ryumurin @he4ts444mi @cherrypieyourface @lemonintrovert01 @ladysi0 @avanly @chilichopsticks @tananaxx @akusrider @irlbungee @my-anime-garden
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seiwas · 3 months
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₊˚⊹。 don't let go, okay? | gojo satoru
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wc: 2.1k
summary: it has to be some sort of fate that you happen to be stuck with gojo on valentine's day.
contains: f!reader, slowburn, fluff, reader and gojo are 21, reader and gojo are ‘guardians’ to megumi and tsumiki but they are not romantically together, japanese valentine’s chocolate tradition, reader’s cursed technique (vaguely), kind of pining
a/n: in the 'conversations on love' universe but takes place before the main series (would be nice to read but not necessary to understand this). theme song for this is what love is by zimmer90.
part of 'do you know what love is like?', a mini-series of almost's within 'conversations on love'. also included in how to be your lover boy (a valentine's collab by augustinewrites & seiwas)
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The night is crisp when you step into it, the clean cut of a cool breeze tickling your cheek; it sweeps past you in the edge of winter and spring. 
You walk along the street. 
A sort of faded, vintage hue paints Shimokitazawa, wooden boards with worn down signages holding names of antique shops in every corner. The night feels older here, retro lights tinging bars and pubs more maturely than those nearby in Shibuya. At the street across, the sign of a cafe is flipped the other way to formally open the speakeasy it transforms into. 
You’ve only been here twice before: once with Nanami and Utahime years ago, while searching for old vinyl records the three of you had gotten into, and another with Tsumiki, some time last month because she’d mentioned wanting to check the thrift shops. 
Who would have thought you’d be back so soon? With—
“Satoru,” you call out, half-giggling, “why are you sniffing?” 
Gojo trails just a few inches behind you, body bent over closely to catch a whiff but not near enough to touch. Each inhale he takes is punctuated with the sound of whizzing air, condensing to fit through his nostrils. 
“You smell like chocolate.”
Out of all the plans you’d anticipated on Valentine’s Day, being roped into a mission with Gojo at the last minute was definitely not one of them. 
You shake your head knowingly, the corners of your lips curling; Gojo can smell sweets miles away, you could honestly mistake it for his cursed technique. 
He pulls back, falling into step with you. 
“Tsumiki asked me to help make some earlier.” 
Heavy jazz floats through the air as you pass by a bar entrance, the music muffling as the doors fall shut a few seconds later. Your boots clack against the pavement. 
“Oh?” Gojo perks up, voice turning an all-too-familiar hint of nosy as he teases, “What kind?” 
You snort as you dig your hands further into your pockets. For someone who claims to be all-seeing and all-knowing, Gojo is a lot more inquisitive than he seems; his nonchalance is but an added security much like his infinity is, dissipating only in company he’s comfortable sharing that side of him with. 
It’s been a while since Gojo’s been ‘home’ in the past week, so you don’t blame him for wondering. 
“Tomo mostly,” your gaze shifts to the side, waiting for his reaction, “though I did notice her sneaking a few honmei ones when I wasn’t looking.” 
There’s a slight stagger to his step as his shoulders tense up, his sunglasses shifting higher as his ears push back. You bite down your laugh. 
For as clueless as both you and Gojo are when it comes to being guardians to Megumi and Tsumiki, you think Gojo’s grown an odd mix of semi-brotherly-kind of-fatherly-mostly-guardianly protectiveness over the both of them—to Tsumiki especially. You can tell because his reminders to Megumi are always sealed with some form of ensuring Tsumiki makes it home safely. 
‘Home’, which is where the kids stay, but it’s neither yours nor his—just a place nearby that keeps them protected and comfortable. You’re with them most days, Gojo staying when he can, but with the higher-ups assigning him on missions left and right, there’s hardly any time for him to drop by. Hell, you haven’t seen much of him either, besides the rare instances of bumping into him along the halls of Jujutsu Tech, a whine almost always drawn from his throat. 
You see his curiosity as an effort to check in.
He only hums, hollower than his usual responses. The sound of his footsteps fill the gaps of what would typically be a seamless back-and-forth with you; you try not to comment on it. 
Indinstinct chatter brings the street to life, smooth beats cascading warmth against the chilly breeze. Despite the noise, Gojo’s silence feels unsettling—as if there are words forming at the tip of his tongue, withheld for reasons you can’t quite get a read on just yet. 
So, you wait, learning more and more that he usually comes around when—
“Did you?” 
The question is half-murmured, part of it lost to the night. 
Did you what? Notice Tsumiki?
“Hm?” you tilt your head towards him, tucking strands of hair behind your ear in an attempt to hear him better. 
He doesn’t answer. 
You stop walking. 
“Did I what?” you adjust your coat before turning towards him, catching the slightest of his gaze before he looks away quickly.
(“Did you make honmei chocolate?” he means.) 
Still, no answer. 
The tips of Gojo’s ears dust pink, and you try not to comment on that too.
His bottom lip is pulled between his teeth, slipping free before his Adam’s apple bobs, swallowing. 
“Wanna see something cool?” he changes the subject, removing his sunglasses and turning back to you as if none of it happened. As if he didn’t ask you anything, as if you didn’t ask what he meant—as if you didn’t just catch him at the tail end of a wistful stare. 
The shift in his tone happens so suddenly, it feels disjointed. Unnatural. But you’ve gotten used to moments like this from knowing him for so long; Gojo always says less of what he truly means. 
You focus on his face, yellow and red retro lights dancing on clear blue. He looks almost freakish this way, otherworldly—a crazed look you’ve gotten familiar with. His hands are stuffed inside his pockets when he stops, gangly long legs outstretched by the shadow beneath him. 
There’s really no time to be doing this right now, the both of you just 10 minutes away from the mission’s location—an abandoned building housing a special grade curse that lures people in with fabricated memories. Around you, the neighbourhood’s nightlife has dwindled, your walk thus far having brought you farther from the heart of the place and closer to somewhere more quieter, more secluded. 
Gojo looks too excited, eyes beaming wonder and mischief along with something else you can’t quite figure out yet. You purse your lips in thought. 
“C’mon, it’ll be quick.” he smirks, the dimple on his cheek deepening as he shrugs, “I’ve finally perfected it.”
A beat—skipped before your heart races. 
You wonder if he knows, if he’s using this to his advantage, because—
—when have you ever denied him when he looks at you this way? 
The higher-ups should have known better than to pair you together for a mission. Your instructions were merely ‘to assist’, but you hardly believe it considering Gojo almost always handles these things on his own. It’s more babysitting, you know, to keep the damages of his technique to a minimum. 
They shouldn’t have called on you, of all people—you’re on Gojo’s side. Always. 
A smile threatens to escape your lips, warmth spreading within your cheeks; you roll your eyes jokingly, stifling a giggle before relenting.
“Fine.” 
He guides you forward, chest bumping against your shoulder blade as he picks up pace. It’s a clear road ahead of you, the streets emptying out to more greenery; your senses are filled with the smell of the earth mixed in with the faint cotton of Gojo’s cologne. 
This is bad for your feelings. 
(Being this close to you feels like the ticklish drag of fingernails just right before it creates indents in his chest.) 
There’s something brewing between you and Gojo, neither of you have just addressed it yet. He pulls away when the moment is too close but still looks for you first after missions, an almost automatic question to either Shoko or Ijichi about your whereabouts.
You’ve been catching his stares too, almost always at the split-second before he turns away—a reaction on impulse. The silence between you feels fuller lately, as if there are words he wants to say but is choosing to withhold. 
When the space is vacant enough, he steps a few inches to your right, left hand stuffed inside his pocket as he shakes his arm hesitantly, almost awkwardly. 
“You have to hold on to me,” he instructs you. 
Your eyes widen, equally surprised and shy as you slowly take your hand out of your coat and slip it into the empty space, resting it on the crook of his elbow. Gojo freezes very slightly. 
He shakes it off just as quickly, “You might be sensitive to my domain because of your technique, so stay close just to be safe.” 
Then, his head tilts towards you, a little closer than you’re both used to. This near, his eyes hold a perfect morning sky, eyelashes hanging like wispy clouds on a clear day. 
Your gazes meet and you blink twice, goosebumps littering your skin. 
“Don’t let go, okay?”
Another beat—followed by another, and another, the sound of it growing louder. 
You almost miss the way he says it gentler than normal, how sincere it feels with his breath tickling your cheek. 
“Okay,” your fingers curl around his arm tighter. 
He lifts his other hand up, crossing his fingers as he recites the mantra to his domain. In an instant, the greenery around you disappears, stark white taking its place. 
“What do you think?” Gojo asks almost immediately, crossing his arms over his chest. Your fingers stay curled onto the crook of his elbow, sandwiched between his forearm and bicep; his other hand rests a few centimeters away from yours, nearly touching. 
You scan the space, examining its vastness. Minimalist. A blank sheet—
“It’s…” you try to find the right words, “... empty?” 
He gasps exaggeratedly, “Hey!” then pouts in fake offense, “I made it porcelain white at least. This isn’t pure white you know.” 
You eye him from the side.
He chuckles, breaking his act, “You should be honored.”
A pause—his tone shifting to something softer, more vulnerable. 
“You’re the first person I’m bringing in here.” 
His admission is unexpected, but it feels relevant, makes you feel like it, too. 
You’re touched, knowing how secretive he’s been on perfecting his domain since Toji and Geto; he only ever tells you and Ijichi about it. No one ever pressured him into achieving his perfect domain, but he feels like his existence necessitates it. 
“It’s clean,” you finally say, playing along, “I like it.” 
He eyes you this time, dimples deepening the more he attempts to poorly push down his smile. 
“Shame I can’t really do much with it, would have wanted to spice up the interiors a bit.” 
You snort, knowing full well that Gojo’s very much the type to pick one piece of furniture and anchor the entire place’s aesthetic off of that. 
“Someday.” you catch his eyes again. 
(It echoes in his ears, the quickening thump of his heartbeat—pink noise that can’t possibly be a product of your technique. 
In the silence of his domain, all he hears is that sound and you.) 
He hums before looking back to the empty space, “Acoustics would be good by then, we can try your technique in here.” 
You nod, the corners of your lips curling; his pinky presses against yours so faintly you wonder if you just imagined it—if he had meant it or not. 
The special grade is dealt with within a quarter of the time it took you to travel to here, but Gojo seems to bear the consequences with another one of his migraines—a mixture of fatigue from activating his domain earlier along with sensitivity from the increased bustle in Shimokitazawa’s night life as you exit the neighborhood. 
You make a mental note to get him something that covers his eyes a little bit more than those circle frames he uses—an imbued blindfold maybe? You’ll have to think about it some more. 
(When you both get ‘home’, you set up the couch, offering him the spare bedroom so he can sleep off the headache. It’s a quick trip to the kitchen for a glass of water when he catches a glimpse of it—a fully decorated box of honmei chocolate partially hidden at the corner of the counter. 
The card has half of his name written in your handwriting.
You don’t end up giving it, but he does receive some chocolates from you, still. It’s a belated gift the next day, along with the ones you gift to Shoko, Yaga, and Ijichi—a tradition you’ve kept up since you were 16. 
But, his box has an extra piece, and you even tailored each one to all his favorite flavors: sakura, strawberry, zunda, and anko; his card is the same one you left half-written, just now fully spelling ‘Satoru’. 
So, he thinks his might be a bit more special, and he’s realizing that he likes it that way—he might prefer it much more, actually.)
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a/n: haven't written col in a while but this is the official launch of 'do you know what love is like?', a mini-series of almost's within the 'conversations of love' universe! there are lots of details that connect to some of the col works but this happens before all of the ones released so far (so you don't need to read the main series to understand this, but it would add to the full experience if you do!).
thank you notes: @augustinewrites love u my valentine, this fic wouldn't exist without you 🥹 + @stellamancer col couple is here!! with chocolates!! thank you for going over this for the first read 🥹 ily niku + @mididoodles @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat my cheerleaders!! thank you for the support always 🥹
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comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡
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norrisleclercf1 · 11 months
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Hi love ❤ could you maybe write something for the Mini lando Series,maybe where reader does Grocerie Shopping with Aiden and Lando stays at home with Caleb. And while they are shopping some man flirts with reader and Aiden is like THATS my mom and she only loves my daddy. And then he tells lando what happend when they are home. And lando is jelous but thinks its funny how People still trie to hit on reader even with Baby and ring on her finger.
A/N: pffffft love this, Aiden totally has his dads sass. Aiden is about 5 and Caleb is 2. This happens before you become pregnant with your 3rd child Daniel William Norris.
Warnings: Fluff and Angst, yep that's right it's not always going to be sunshine and roses, slight crude language and joke
Mini Lando Series Masterlist
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"Just, call if you need anything okay?" You ask Lando, about to run to the grocery store he waves you off. "What? Think I can't take care of my own son?" It's a teasing comment but with a tiny bite.
Taking a deep breath you have to remind your self to remain calm to his comment. "Lando, you're a capable father, I'm just saying-" You stop pursing your lips. "Whatever, forget it. Aiden! Baby, come on we're leaving!" Aiden runs down the hall smiling.
He loved going to the store with you, Caleb was about 2 and now able to talk and run around so Aiden didn't get much peace. And at 5, he was already an old man with Lando's mouth to boot.
"I'm ready! Bye daddy." Lando crouches, kissing Aiden on the cheek. "Be good for you Mom or I won't be taking you karting. Understand?" Aiden has gotten into karting, nothing serious yet. But he was a natural talent and it started to worry you.
That's why there was so much tension between you and Lando recently. "Yes, sir. I'll be good for Mom." Running to the garage, leaving you and Lando alone. "We'll talk later." Is all Lando says, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek and off to check on Caleb.
""Sure." You mumble, wanting to shake off the fog in your brain. You wanted a good day with your son and fighting with your husband wasn't going to damper that. "Mama! Come on!" Aiden yells, hurrying you to the car.
Opening the door, you help him in, strapping him into the booster seat. "Is Daddy mad?" Fingers fumble slightly with the last buckle at his question you look up. "No, baby. We're just having an adult conversation. He's not mad at you, I promise." Aiden nods, his question quickly forgotten by him but not by you.
The drive is relatively nice as you park, going over the rules again with Aiden who just nods saying "yes mom". Running into the store he grabs one of the mini buggies, making sure to copy you. The two of you giggle and talk about his karting.
Not even noticing as a man approaches you until he grabs something off the top shelf for you. "Here you go gorgeous." The guy smiles, you give a tight lip one taking the box of pasta from him. "Thanks." Aiden staring at the guy, wondering what he was doing.
"You're welcome. Can't turn down a stunning woman like you now can I? What kind of person would I be?" He chuckles moving closer, but not enough to make you uncomfortable. "One who isn't my daddy." Aiden's voice has the guy looking down, you hiding a smile as you turn.
"Excuse me little guy?" The man shocked at the little kids quip. "It's not little guy, my name is Aiden. You're not my daddy, and the only one to call Mommy pretty is Daddy." Aiden standing firm, staring the guy down. "Oh, well I don't see your daddy." Winking at you, now you're stepping in but Aiden doesn't stop.
"Daddy is busy at home with my little brother. He also drives super fast cars, the orange one. Unless you drive one like Daddy and Uncle Carlos or Uncle Pear you can't call Mommy pretty." The guy steps back, rolling his eyes. "Whatever." And walks off leaving you in shock.
"Aiden Carlos." Your voice calm, Aiden looks down. He knew he shouldn't have done that. His mommy could handle herself but...daddy always told him to protect mommy when he wasn't there. "Are you going to tell Daddy?" He knew he did wrong, talking back to a stranger unaware of what he could do.
"No, you will." Sighing you head to check out. "Mommy?" Aiden's voice soft as you two drive back. "Yes?" Aiden sniffles kicking his little feet. "I was just doing what Daddy does for you." He whispers, eyes looking in the rearview mirror you catch Aiden's head down.
"What do you mean baby?" Confused by that. "Daddy always protects Mommy, and Uncle Carlos said since I'm the oldest I have to protect you and Caleb when Daddy isn't here. I'm sorry." Sniffling again, reaching back you squeeze his little leg.
"My little boy. You don't need to do that. When you're bigger and older, sure. But you're still my little baby, it's my job to protect you." Aiden smiles, nodding as you pull into the garage.
The garage door opens, showing Caleb being held by Lando who laughs as Lando blows raspberries on his stomach. "Mama!" Caleb giggles, Aiden jumping out and running inside.
"Something happen?" Lando asks, you nod. Lando just nods sucking in his cheeks placing Caleb down. "I'll go talk to him." Caleb carrying light bags of groceries inside happy to help.
Lando walks to his eldest son's room, poking his head in not seeing Aiden he goes to second best spot. "Bubs?" Lando calls pushing open his office door, Aiden staring at all the trophies, helmets, and pictures.
"I thought I told you to be good?" Lando sighs, crouching to be eye level with the boy sitting in the desk chair. "I was, but a stranger was calling Mommy names and I protected her just like you and Uncle Carlos always say to do." Aiden whines, for such a little boy he sure did have mature emotions.
Anger fuels Lando hearing this, he has to take a couple deep breaths before asking his next question. "What kind of names, bubs? It's okay you can tell me." Lando comforts him, Aiden's curls bouncing back to place from Lando's fingers.
"They kept calling Mommy pretty, and doing what you do." Lando blinks, the anger shaping into jealousy. A guy was hitting on you? With his ring on your finger and in front of his child? Okay, this could be worse.
Lando having to talk himself down. "Aiden, you have to let Mommy handle that until your bigger, understand?" Aiden nods, staring at a picture of you, Aiden, and him holding a trophy. "Can we still kart?" Lando smirks, ruffling his hair. "Yeah, go get dressed." Aiden running off.
Lando stands, taking in the pictures. First date, Wedding, His first WDC, your entire life together was here. Yet he was still feeling jealous? He hated it. Walking back, he sees Caleb watching bluey holding his stuffed koala given to him by Oscar.
"Y/n?" You poke your head around the corner, Lando walks into the kitchen kicking the standout the door swinging closed. "A guy hit on you?" Voice calm, but even you could hear the lace of anger.
"Yes, but it was handled, by our 5-year-old. Apparently, you and Carlos have put in his head he's allowed to do that." You hiss, angry at the fact that your son could've been put in harm's way. "Y/n, that's not the point here, a guy hit on you." His temper fizzles out quickly as he laughs.
"What is so damn funny? This isn't funny!" You snap, pushing his shoulder as Lando just laughs. "This fucker hit on you, while you wear my ring. My child was next to you, and I'm here acting like a jealous teenager." He laughs harder shaking his head at his own actions.
"I felt threatened when I'm the one who married you, the one who is the father of two gorgeous boys. And," He steps closer, wrapping an arm around your waist pulling you into his chest. "The one who gets to fill you every night." You slap a hand over his mouth, feeling the smirk on your palm.
"Are you crazy! The kids could hear." Anger slipping too as you roll your eyes. "M swommy." Words muffled you drop your hand. "What?" "I'm sorry. About our fight recently and now, this. Just, ever since we had Aiden; I've been worried about your safety and the kids. Now I understand what Fernando and the others felt over their kids and partners." Lando wraps you in a hug.
"Lando, I love you. But, if you ever tell our child to do that again. I'm slicing your balls." Lando snorts shaking his head. "You love my balls to much." You shove him away as he laughs loudly.
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cheesiedomino · 4 months
Text
Second Chances ꙳ ੭ * ‧
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synopsis: your old situationship from many years ago just moved back in town and of course, he has to text you. but it’s not just any normal text — he’s asking you out on a proper date this time. will you give a second chance to Cupid? or will you be left here feeling stupid?
genre: lee minho x fem!reader | exes (??) to lovers wc: 4.6k tags/warnings: fluff, some light angst, slightly suggestive but nothing srs, mild cursing, kissing, small mentions of crying T-T
now playing 🎧: from the start by laufey
[this is part of my valentine’s series where i write a short story for each member surrounding themes of love, newfound romance, relationship hardships & more.]
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“Why don’t you give Tinder a try already? I’m sick of hearing you nagging all day about being lonely!” Areum abruptly suggests mid-convo , resting her palm on the side of her face.
As you both casually wait for the food to arrive, you end up on the dreadful topic of dating again. You got into a real heated discussion with her, sitting in a booth at this new restaurant one of your coworker’s recommended. It wasn’t super well known but they wouldn’t stop raving about how delicious their breadsticks were. The place wasn’t too jam packed but definitely had a decent amount of people. What you weren’t anticipating on was seeing dozens of couples here, it kind of threw your whole vibe off since it only reminded you of your current sad relationship status. Maybe you were putting far too much thought into it but everything seemed so highly unfair. Glaring in envy while they all happily rub in your face that they’ve found their forever companion.
Life really can be cruel at times.
“You can’t be for real right now..” you instantly side eye your friend from across the table. Feeling personally triggered whenever she mentions online dating. You refuse to try it, never wanting to partake in such a vain concept where you swipe left and right based solely on looks. “That’s not the same as real romance. I want to meet someone naturally, wanna tell my kids when they grow up how I met their dreamy, hunk of a father in aisle 39 at Whole Foods.”
One could say it’s almost pathetic in a way— this burning desire you harbor within, longing for a pure, quaint, and beautiful love. Constantly catching yourself daydreaming about finding your life partner, the person you’re going to marry and possibly create an eternal family with. That day has yet to come unfortunately, but you still hold onto the thought of you someday meeting the one.
You thought you found them before, but thou shalt not speak thy names out into existence.
“Well, good luck finding ‘real romance’ in the big age of 2024-” Areum snorts in amusement, taking a pause to sip on her mango strawberry lemonade. “I need whatever drugs you’re on that’s making you this delulu so I can fantasize about my knight and shining armor that’s never coming!”
God you hate that word. Delulu. Why are you suddenly “delusional” for wanting a picture perfect romance? It doesn’t need to be perfect per se, but you want to feel adored, swept off your feet and embraced like the true queen you are. Was that too much to ask? Considering the current state of dating in this day and age, it might just be.
“I mean, let’s face it girl. You literally don’t know the first thing about love ___, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows like in the K-dramas y’know! Haven’t you only had like one boyfriend in high school? You barely even dated that guy for a month-”
“That’s because he dumped me to go move to LA and become a dumb YouTuber!” You snapped back, cutting her off to get all the facts straight.
It was hard not to grimace while thinking of such old memories. Dating a Minecraft streamer definitely had to be one of the most embarrassingly cringe choices you’ve ever made.
“Whatever that’s beside the point. What I’m trying to get at here is you don’t have the best track record when it comes to men. Remember that other guy you were seeing before we graduated? I thought y’all would’ve dated for sure but he turned out to be a dickhole just like the rest of ‘em…” Areum shakes her head in disbelief, recalling all those times you’d call in a frenzied panic about things not working out.
“What was his name again? Min… Minwoo? No, that’s not it.. it was definitely Min something.” She attempts on remembering but keeps drawing a blank.
“Minho.” You answer almost instantaneously. His name still rolled off the tongue smooth as velvet.
It felt weird though. Saying it out loud after so many years of blocking it from your immediate vocabulary. A name you thought would never escape your lips again.
“Damn, you really still think about him don’t you?” She dares to ask, knowing how difficult it is for you to even talk about this anymore.
You only respond by nodding slowly, unable to bring yourself to look at her. It was far too intense; bearing the emotions of hurt and guilt from a past fling that meant more to you but nothing to the other. That’s how most of your tragic stories end— always too overly into them while they barely reciprocate any of that energy towards you. The thing is, you thought Minho actually liked you, even so far as wanting to date in the near future. Considering he brought you over his parent’s house (to hook up of course), and though you didn’t meet them you still think that meant something. Most men don’t just bring any woman they’re seeing to their parent’s place without somewhat thinking a potential relationship could happen down the line.
“So that’s why you should download Tinder and start swipin’ on some other cuties! It’ll at least distract you for a bit and get your mind off that asswipe,” Areum pitches her idea once more, “there’s plenty other fish in the sea ___. Not everyone online is some crazy serial killer, plus you clearly don’t seem to be having much luck out in the real world.”
You wanted to jump up from the table and erase that smirk from her face but instead you roll your eyes at that last remark. “I don’t need those shitty dating apps. I’m very capable of finding someone in real life for your information!” You quickly retort as a means to defend yourself. Even though she did have a point, her delivery could’ve been a little bit nicer.
It’s not easy being a hopeless romantic, you can’t help but yearn for that special someone to enter your life and change it for the better. You won’t feel wholly satisfied nor complete until you do. The sad reality of the matter was that you are still painfully single. No one’s interesting enough to cease your attention, let alone go on any actual dates. Areum’s had enough of your bitching and whining though, there’s only so many rants and tirades she can keep listening to about your vicious hatred for men before she loses it completely. Your nonexistent love life has become more of a nuisance as that time of year approaches— Valentine’s Day. A god forsaken holiday you’ve always loathed with a passion. Wanting nothing more than to be one of those girls on the receiving end getting flowers and chocolates. A day full of the utmost joy and pleasant surprises from your loving significant other.
Must be nice..
Speaking of surprises.. The buzzing in your ear echoes from your phone pinging loudly, indefinitely startling you. Grabbing it to check the sudden notification, your eyes go absurdly wide at the contact name displayed on your screen. Blinking numerous times from shock, you stare at your phone in incredulity; making sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you.
Lee Minho. The Lee Minho?
What kind of sorcery is being conjured where the instant you bring him up, he somehow texts you after all these years of not speaking? This coincidence was more than unsettling to you. A part of your inner thoughts still believes this is all some elaborate joke being played on you, waiting for a cameraman to pop out of some curtain to announce you’ve just been pranked. But nothing happens, life proceeds as normal. Now you’re left with the most puzzling notification you might’ve ever received.
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It was your last year of college and the pressure of your academics along with appeasing your family was getting to you immensely. You needed an escape from all of it, desperately. Which you found through none other than Lee Minho, the boy who worked as a barista at Cozmo’s; this coffee shop you used to frequent a lot. It was a cute, small family-owned establishment and they made the best matcha lattes— in your humble opinion. You’d pick one up almost every day along with a slice of freshly baked cinnamon bread. It started off as only playful banter with him in the beginning, then it lead to more as time went on. One day, as you reached out to pay he blocked your hand from moving any closer, letting you freely walk away without spending a dime. This soon became a regular occurrence, as you’d start seeing Minho outside of work, getting to know more and more about him. You remember so desperately wanting to date back then, pitying your past self for thinking there was even a chance.
‘Maybe he’s just texted the wrong person’ you psyche yourself into thinking, but when you unlock your phone to finally read the message — an uncomfortable lump forms in the pit of your throat.
Minho 🐈:
Hey is this still ___’s number?
You honestly don’t know why you still have his number saved, let alone allowing a whole emoji to be next to it. Though it never was like you to delete anything, no matter how painful it may have been. More lingering questions makes you want to seek out the possible solutions. Why would he text you of all people ? None of this adds up in your mind realistically. Furrowing your brows in concentration, you think of what to say as you draft out a response.
Yes… who’s this?
After a tedious struggle of typing out multiple paragraphs and immediately deleting them, you went over your words a few more times before sending a final reply. It would’ve been strange had you knew exactly who he was off the bat, that’ll just be dead giveaway you still had his contact info saved this whole time. But with that logic, doesn’t that make Minho just as odd for still keeping your number after all this time has passed?
Your phone dings again.
Minho 🐈:
Srsly -_-
Did you really delete my number??
Bet he didn’t see that one coming. He probably thought the moment he texts you, you were gonna kiss up to him like you’ve always done in the past. Mentally giggling to yourself at the image of him getting flustered by you not knowing who he was at first. Feels good to know you knocked his confidence down a peg.
Lol, chillax.. I know it’s you Minho :P
Not even a minute later, a flood of incoming messages appear. Biting your lip out of nervousness, your heart couldn’t stop beating so fast— anxiously checking your phone as the atmosphere around you suddenly gets stuffier.
Minho 🐈:
Better be lucky I didn’t block you after that ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ
Guess who’s back in the city btw. Did ya miss me? ;)
No need to answer that, I already know you did. You should stop by at Cozmo’s again sometime!
Also what’re you up to this week? I need you to clear out all your plans because I’m taking you out on a date.
You always knew Minho was the bold type but this was on another level. The sheer audacity he has to even ask something like this after not reaching out for almost 3 years was more than ballsy on his part. It felt like a surge of butterflies erupting in your stomach, getting lightheaded as you think about seeing him again. He really had an effect on you like no other.
Glancing up from your screen to finally pay attention to Areum again, you assure her everything’s going to be just fine. “Looks like I won’t be needing to download Tinder after all.”
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Later on that day you ended up going to Cozmo’s and meeting up with Minho. It never really took much convincing from him to get you to budge, though it was a hell of a lot worse back then. You used to blindly follow along with anything he said just to seek his approval, hoping that eventually he’ll see you as the girl he wants to settle down with. Alas, nothing ever blossomed into something more, and you knew deep down that this was headed nowhere— but that still didn’t stop you from fantasizing about a future with him. Getting lost into deep thought, head heavy in the clouds as you imagine the idea of Minho confessing his undying love for you. You’ll be so caught off guard as he gets down on one knee, looking at you with the entire solar system in eyes while he proposes in the most charming way. It really is pitiful how much you still daydream about a guy who wasn’t your boyfriend but would constantly act like he was, then up and leaves without mentioning a single word about it.
You convinced yourself he ran off with someone else to have a better life with, even hearing through town gossip that he’s moved to South Korea to pursue becoming an idol. Whatever the case may be it still weighed heavily on your mind that he never bothered to tell you anything, even a simple ‘goodbye’ would’ve sufficed the empty hole in your heart. The main reason you agreed on meeting up with Minho was to finally ask, why? Why did he pretend to like you? Why did he act like your boyfriend when he never had intentions on seriously dating? Why was he so good at making you fall so hard for him..?
“You look great.” You subconsciously blurt out, affixed in a daze as you stare in awe at the man in front of you.
It’s been a while since you came here— never able to fully bring yourself to try and go back. Though you knew this place first, and they really did have the best Mactha lattes in the universe. It reminded you too much of him and you sadly had to let it go.
You weren’t proud of it but you did go home quickly to change clothes and redo your makeup. Usually you wouldn’t care but this was the only guy you’ve been consistently crushing on for years, you had to feel good inside and out. Minho was just as gorgeous as you remembered, if not he looked even more ethereal — which seemed impossible in itself already. He’s grown up so beautifully, his facial features became more sharp, especially his jawline which looks so defined and sculpted by the Gods.
Minho lightly chuckles at your timidness, some things just never change. “You look way better.” His lips drew into a faint smirk as he admires your presence.
He meant every word of what he said, you looked really good, and it was making him even more frustrated that so much time has passed. Regretting the way he handled things so many years ago, wishing he could take it all back and do everything differently. Seeing you again made it easier for Minho to suppress the guilt he’s borne for so long. This moment feels like a second chance to make amends for his past mistakes.
You couldn’t help but blush when you hear his compliment, feeling your ears grow hot as you look at the ground. There was a silent pause between you that lasted for what seemed like ages. Weirdly enough the conversation flowed well after he finally broke the awkwardness, the chemistry was overall still there and were able to pick up right where it left off.
“I’m so glad you came ___, I’ve been dying to see you since I got here. I’m surprised you even still responded to my lame ass.”
Minho’s light confession puzzles you. If he really was dying to see you, why’d he wait so long to get in contact with you? To be fair, you don’t know the exact time he came back.
“Oh, is that so? When’d you come back? Also show me pics of Korea, I’ve always wanted to know what it’s like there.” You fondly inquire, leaning against the side of the wall as he’s still behind the counter. He mentioned to you he’s only working part time because his parents would rather mooch off their son for free labor than to hire and pay a new employee.
“Yesterday,” he quickly states before taking out his phone to scroll through his gallery, “guess my sister must’ve told you I went there huh?”
You shook your head, “Nah, I haven’t talked to Elle in a while. She’s tried hitting me up a few times though.. but I found out through Areum ‘cause she was seeing Hoseok back then.”
They were definitely “seeing” each other alright, but mostly in the bedroom. Areum didn’t want anything exclusive with Hoseok and neither did he, it was the perfect friends with benefits situation. Minho and Hoseok were good friends who’ve known each other for a while, so naturally he’d tell Areum everything and overshare at some point.
“Agh, there’s a customer gotta take this. One sec, sorry!” He briefly apologizes before bringing his attention to the new person heading inside. You nod, signaling he’s good to go. “I’ll be waiting over there,” you point to a small wooden table with 2 chairs in a corner.
Once Minho comes back you notice he’s no longer wearing his purple work apron; back in his regular attire now and sporting an oversized dark grey hoodie that was three times too big. He was holding a large cup with green liquid and a paper bag in his hand, that’s when it clicks for you— he still remembers your favorite meal.
He’s grinning the whole time he’s handing you the matcha latte and cinnamon pastry, smiling from ear to ear like a kid on Christmas Day. This was the most you’ve seen him be so enthusiastic about something, even back when you were “with” him you can’t recall him beaming with such energy like this.
“Awh, thank you. I haven’t had either one of these in years!” You wanted to give him the biggest hug but you refrained from doing so, feeling as though it may be too early for that.
“Of course dear, anything for you.”
Why does everything he says have to make you melt from the inside out? It’s not fair! >:(
Glancing down at your yummy beverage, you see a message written on the side of the glass with bold permanent sharpie. Tilting your head to read it, the words are bit jumbled together but you get the gist. You’re almost left speechless after it reads: ‘___, Will you be my valentine?’
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Your most dreaded and least favorite holiday is here, yippee! But, there’s a twist on this year’s turn of events; you actually have someone to celebrate this wretched tradition with. You should be excited but all you’re feeling is the sudden urge to vomit as you were nervous out of your mind. This was kind of weird to you, going on a date with your ex boyfriend who was never even your real boyfriend. Looking back on it now you shouldn’t have tolerated a relationship dynamic like that, Minho was clearly taking advantage of your passiveness by not explicitly saying what he wanted. On the contrary, you had no one to blame but yourself, you never spoke up or criticized anything even if it didn’t coincide with your personal morals.
The fact he never took you on an actual date until now speaks volumes, you obviously didn’t have enough self worth back to demand better treatment. It took you years of figuring out what a real, healthy relationship is supposed to be like through trials of therapy and that was an emotional rollercoaster in itself. All your uncertainties soon faded away once you became more secure and knew exactly what you wanted for yourself. It took every ounce of patience and acceptance to unlearn all your bad coping mechanisms and other toxic behaviors that were only stunting your inner growth. You’re happy to be in a position now where you’re able to express wholeheartedly what you deserve, it’s the best feeling ever to feel like you’re in control of your own life.
You spent almost 3 hours getting ready and your bedroom now looked like a war zone. The outfit you chose was super girly, a frilly white dress with pink platform heels— Minho’s going to drool in amazement when he sees you. When you sent Areum photos of you before heading out, she responds right way with a series of hearts and other sweet comments— hyping you up to no end like the best friend she is. She’s also able to help pull you out of your doubtful headspace, when you felt unsure if you could really go through with this she quickly psyched you out of it. Reminding you exactly who you are and why you are the prize, not him. ‘He should be the one who’s nervous, not the other way around’ you assure yourself over and over as a mini ego boost.
His jaw dropped when he spotted you walking up to his car, infatuated by how pretty and perfect you looked in every way possible. It angers him so much to know he took all this for granted, he didn’t appreciate all of you the way he should’ve but now he gets another chance to redo everything and right his wrongs. It’s a lot of pressure but he bravely accepts it, he could never mess up another opportunity like this again. The car ride was fairly silent in the beginning, you were vibing in peace as the only thing you could hear was Minho’s soft indie playlist as background music.
You ultimately chose to be the one to speak first, breaking the ice with a simple inquiry about the date. “So where are we going?” Looking out at the scenery from the window, all you is trees and more trees. If it’s something to do with nature you surely don’t want any parts of it, you’ve never been too fond of the wilderness.
“It’s a surprise, I can’t tell you.” He keeps a tight seal on today’s destination without dropping a single hint, forcing you to go completely blind into this. As he goes back to focus on the road, you sigh anxiously after hearing him refuse to disclose anything.
Did he seriously forget what kind of person you are? Anyone who’s close to you at all knows you’ve never been into those types of things. Ever.
“You know I hate surprises Minho,” you remind him, attempting to pry for more information. Even shooting him a doe eyed look along with poking out your bottom lip, but he doesn’t falter.
He simply nods, “I know but you’ll like this one, just have a little bit of faith me.” Flashing an innocent smile at you, he seems to be overly confident in whatever his plan consists of.
After almost half an hour passes the car finally comes to a stop, you scan the area and instantly notice a sense of familiarity among the place. Across from you was an ice cream parlor you thought didn’t exist anymore. But there it is, still standing with dozens of customers waiting in line. The small shop was famously known for its fish-shaped ice cream cones, you’ve always wanted to visit the place and try it when you were a little from seeing it on TV all the time. When you told Minho about it, you said how your parents would say it was too far but it actually closed down and they didn’t know how to tell you. From time to time you’d still think about that place, but you would’ve never thought they relocated. Being here with Minho brings an indescribable amount of happiness to your spirit.
“I mentioned this place like one time in passing, how’d you even remember?” You wonder in amazement, after all these years he still remembers something as minuscule as this.
“It may not have seemed like it but I paid attention to every little detail you told me ___, all it. Of course I know you don’t like surprises but how else would I have been able to take you here?” He sweetly expresses to you, not wanting to hold back anymore.
You wanted to cry right here, right now. All your emotions came crashing down at once and it’s hard to keep them concealed. A lot has changed within these years, things feel so different with him now, especially with how much he’s matured. You notice how he doesn’t act like the typical fuckboy in his early 20’s anymore, he’s much more interested in getting to know only person — that being you.
“I’ve rehearsed this in my head like a million times and I don’t think I’ll ever say it the right way I want but it’s time I start being as transparent as possible with you…” Minho takes a deep breath before continuing, “I’ve always liked you ___, from the start actually,” he keeps going, “I was just scared, of what I don’t know.. Commitment maybe?”
Slightly looking in another direction, your vision faintly blurs from tears welling up, “I- I honestly don’t know what to say..”
“Then don’t say anything at all, I don’t need you to. I may not know the first thing about how to love someone, but I want to learn all of it with you.” He feels all the remorse of leaving you alone for all these years, unable to process the pain you must’ve endured at him not getting into contact with you. “I’m so sorry ___. For everything, I’m going to make it all better I promise.”
Your eyes subconsciously flutter shut when he comes in contact with you. Connecting in perfect symmetry with your lips to sync together in motion. His gentle hands cupped your face delicately; his touch was so warm and inviting. Your fingers were deeply tangled in his brunette locks, relishing every minute as he tilts his head to capture more of you. He genuinely couldn’t believe he went this long without kissing these luscious lips again. His tongue grazed the bottom of your lip to subtly ask for entry and you comply. Dopamine floods both your senses like a series of fireworks going off, feeling intoxicated by each other’s taste. It was probably that vanilla bean chapstick you always wore— an old favorite of his and is still your go-to flavor of choice. He wanted to savor you in this moment for as long as he could, cherish the fact he has you in his hold again.
“Want to know something funny?” He asks out of nowhere, still smirking from that heated kiss that just happened seconds ago.
“Hm?”
“You’re the reason I ended up coming back here.” Minho states bluntly, no hesitation detected in his voice whatsoever.
You struggle to comprehend anything, overwhelmed by all his sudden confessions. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I never want to leave your side ever again ___. I’m staying here with you, I already made the biggest mistake of losing you once I can’t let the same thing happen twice.” He spoke tenderly from the bottom of his heart, it felt so genuine you couldn’t not believe him.
Going back to rewind time isn’t possible, but “do-over’s” are, and sometimes we’re able to get those second chances to make things right when we get them wrong the first time.
[End <3].
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pucksandpower · 10 months
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Oooh the grid kids series is pure joy! I think it's really cool idea, especially because the drivers spend so much time around one another. Can i request one where maybe back in the day, rbr!seb and y/n were the grid kids of like mark and michael and jenson and back to present times, seb's grid kids are weirded out to see jenson and mark treat seb and y/n as their grid kids please. If that makes sense
Grid Kids: Gentlemen, a Short View Back to the Past
Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers
Summary: once upon a time, the grid parents were grid kids themselves
Series Masterlist
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When We Were Young
“Oi lovebirds! Stop canoodling in the garage, will ya?” Mark Webber chuckles, teasingly nudging Sebastian as you blush, having been caught stealing a quick kiss with your boyfriend in the middle of the chaotic paddock.
Michael, ever the protective figure, chimes in, “Leave them alone, Mark. It’s sweet. Remember when we were young and in love?” He winks at Sebastian, who grins, clearly relishing in having backup.
Jenson, leaning against a tire stack, chuckles, “Speak for yourself. Some of us still have it.” He sends you a playful wink and you laugh.
Sebastian wraps an arm around you, “Honestly, with the three of you as mentors, I’m surprised I’ve learned anything about racing.”
You smirk, “Maybe they're preparing you for the important race — the race of life?”
Mark snorts, “Deep, Y/N. Very deep.”
Michael smiles, a nostalgic look in his eyes, “You know, Y/N, you remind me a lot of my wife back in the day. Always grounding us racers, making sure our heads don’t get too big.”
Jenson nods in agreement, “True that. You have a way of making sure Seb here doesn’t drift into the clouds.”
Sebastian rolls his eyes, “Oh come on! You guys are just trying to get on Y/N’s good side because she’s the only one who brings proper coffee to the track.”
You giggle, “Guilty as charged. Can’t have my grid parents falling asleep at the wheel now, can I?”
Rain, Rain, Go Away
Sebastian and you stand with Jenson and Mark, sheltering under an awning as rain pours down, delaying the race. Michael ambles over, shaking off his umbrella.
Sebastian grins, “Typical Spa weather, huh?”
Jenson chuckles, “Isn’t it just? Every year I hope for sun by some miracle and every year...” He gestures at the rain dramatically.
You sigh, “I packed for a summer trip. Look at this!” You motion to your very damp sundress.
Mark smirks, “Rookie mistake. Always pack a wetsuit for Spa.”
Michael nods sagely, “And flippers.”
Oh Simple Thing
The smell of grilled meat wafts through the air as Jenson mans the BBQ at his home. You and Sebastian arrive, bringing along a homemade salad and plenty of sides.
“Ah, the dynamic duo!” Mark greets, pulling you into a friendly hug.
Michael points to the salad, “Trust Y/N to ensure we get our greens. Good on you!”
You wink, “Can’t have you all living on steaks and grilled chicken alone.”
As the evening progresses, stories from their early racing days are exchanged, often leading to fits of laughter. At one point, Mark shares an embarrassing story about Sebastian’s rookie mistake during a test session.
Sebastian groans, burying his face in his hands, “Do we have to bring that up again?”
You pat his back sympathetically, “It’s alright, Seb. Everyone has their moments.”
Jenson, taking a sip of his drink, adds, “That’s true. Just remember, no matter how many times they tease you, you’ve got Y/N in your corner. And that’s worth more than anything.”
Prank or Be Pranked
“Seb! Did you move my helmet?” Jenson calls out, rummaging through his locker as the five of you prepare to go karting, his face a picture of confusion.
Sebastian, feigning innocence, replies, “Why would I do that?”
You, smirking, lean in and whisper to Mark, “Five bucks says he put it on the highest shelf.”
Mark grins, “You’re on.”
As Jenson continues his search, he eventually finds his helmet perched high up, just out of reach. Michael, catching on to the prank, laughs, “Looks like our young prodigy here has learned a few tricks.”
Sebastian shrugs, “Consider it ... training. For reflexes and stuff.”
Jenson, using the handle of a dusty broom to retrieve his helmet, retorts, “Wait till you find out what I’ve done with your boots.”
Sebastian’s eyes widen in horror, “You didn’t!”
“This is going to be a long season.” You lean back against the brick wall as the overgrown children in front of you continue to bicker, fighting a smile.
Thanks for the Memories
Jenson, lounging comfortably in the hospitality area, raises an eyebrow as he watches you try to subtly wipe some oil off Sebastian's face. “You sure you’ve got him all cleaned up for the camera?”
You laugh, looking at a sheepish Sebastian who had been poking around his car earlier. “It’s like looking after a kid sometimes. He’s always getting into something.”
Michael chuckles from across the room, “Ah, young love. Sebastian, she’s got your number. But honestly, Y/N, good on you. We older ones have been trying to teach him some discipline.”
Mark smirks. “To be fair, Michael, I recall a certain someone ending up in a pool with his clothes on in Monaco just last year.”
Michael grins mischievously, “That was different. And anyway, Seb, Y/N, don’t get any ideas.”
You playfully roll your eyes, “Trust me, if he ends up in the water, I won’t be the one pushing him.”
Sebastian wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “But you’d jump in to save me, right?”
You pretend to ponder, “Hmm, depends on how cold the water is.”
Jenson laughs, “Sebastian, you’ve found your match. But seriously, both of you, cherish these moments. The grid, the races, it’s all fleeting. But the relationships, the memories, they last.”
Michael nods in agreement, “Jenson’s right. One day you’ll be the veterans, guiding the young ones. Remember these days, learn from them.”
Mark clinks his water bottle to yours, “To memories and the journey ahead.”
Flintstones, Meet the Flintstones
Michael leans back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips, “You know, when I started in F1 we didn’t have all this fancy tech and simulations. We relied on instinct.”
Jenson, faking shock, retorts, “Wait, you mean they didn’t have cars back then?”
Sebastian chuckles, glancing at you, “I bet he drove a dinosaur to the track.”
You laugh, “A very fast dinosaur, mind you.”
Mark, trying to keep a straight face, adds, “Michael, be honest. Was your racing suit made of ... loincloth?"
Michael plays along, “Yes and our helmets were carved out of stone.”
You chime in, “I heard they used saber-toothed tigers as pit crews.”
Jenson nods, “Oh, absolutely. And the pit stops? Ten minutes. Had to give the tigers a break.”
Michael rolls his eyes, laughing, “Alright, alright, mock the legend if you must. But remember, young ones, we paved the way.”
Mark grins, “And we’re grateful, old man. But don’t forget, it’s their turn now.”
Sebastian, ever competitive, challenges, “Race you to the track?”
Michael raises an eyebrow, “You sure about that?”
You laugh, “Careful, Seb. He might just bring out his dinosaur.”
Passing the Torch
Michael stands, his presence commanding the room’s attention even without a word spoken. Holding a helmet delicately in his hands, he clears his throat. “In every racer’s life, there comes a time when the tracks call to you a little less, the roar becomes a distant echo, and you realize there’s a world waiting for you outside the paddock.”
He glances over at Sebastian, then to you, emotion shimmering in his eyes. “But before I step into that world, I wanted to leave behind something, a token of gratitude and hope.”
Sebastian’s brow furrows slightly, curiosity evident. “Michael, you’ve already given so much to all of us …”
Michael interrupts with a soft chuckle, “Seb, always impatient! Let me finish.”
He then looks at you, his gaze warm and fatherly, “Y/N, you may not race on the track, but you’ve raced in all our hearts, guiding, supporting, laughing, and cheering louder than everyone else.”
“Sebastian, Y/N,” Michael continues, his voice imbued with emotion, “This helmet, from my last race, isn’t just a piece of equipment. It’s a symbol. A legacy.”
Gently placing the helmet on the table, he pushes it towards the two of you. “It’s about the weight of responsibility, the dreams it carries, the hopes it’s seen, and the love it’s felt.”
The room is silent, the magnitude of the gesture palpable.
Sebastian, clearly moved, speaks up, voice choked with emotion, “Michael, this ... this is ... I’m not sure if we can ever fill the space you leave behind.”
Michael smiles, placing a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder, then moving to hug you tightly. “That’s the thing about spaces. They evolve. They change. You two won’t fill my space. You’ll create your own.”
Pulling away, he raises his glass, “To new beginnings, to timeless legacies, and to family. Always to family.”
Back to the Future
As Max saunters into the room, he stops short, eyebrows raised in surprise. Jenson is teasing Sebastian, ruffling his hair like he’s a teenager, while Mark playfully nudges Y/N’s arm, offering her a drink.
Max blinks a few times, trying to process the scene. “Is ... is Jenson giving Seb a noogie?”
George peers over from his conversation with Lando, both their eyes widening. “It looks like it ... and Y/N’s being drawn into some sort of mock arm wrestling with Mark. What alternate reality did we walk into?”
Charles, mouth agape, chuckles, “It’s like watching a nature documentary: Here we observe the older generation asserting their playful dominance over the younger one.”
Lando giggles, nudging George. “Mate, should we jump in? Even the odds a bit?”
Before George can answer, Mick, who’s been observing silently, leans in. “Guys, it’s kind of sweet. You remember the stories they've told about the old days? This is just ... history repeating itself.”
Max, still trying to wrap his head around the scene, shakes his head with a laugh. “Never thought I’d see the day when Seb gets his hair messed up and doesn’t immediately fix it.”
Lance calls out, “Maybe we should start taking notes. This might be us in a few years.”
Grid Kids and Grand-Grid Kids
Charles saunters over to Mark and Jenson, holding up a race boot he’d just had signed by both of them. “Thanks for this, mates. It will be a special addition to my collection.”
Mark pats Charles on the back, “Anything for our grand-grid kid.”
Charles stops mid-stride, turning to look at Mark with a puzzled expression. “Your what now?”
Jenson chuckles, handing Lando a signed cap. “Didn’t Seb and Y/N mention? Since they’re your grid parents and they’re our grid kids ... well, that makes you our grand-grid kids.”
Lando bursts into laughter, while George, overhearing the exchange, raises an eyebrow. “Wait, so we’re like ... the second generation of grid offspring? This is getting complicated.”
Mick leans in with a smirk, “Hold on. So if I’m following this logic properly, that would mean double the birthday gifts, right?”
Jenson grins, “Well, perhaps but it also means double the expectations on the track.”
Lance playfully rolls his eyes, “Great, double the pressure. Just what we needed.”
Max joins the banter, “Are there grand-grid kid initiation rites we should know about? Because I’ve seen old photos of Seb and Y/N with you guys and let’s just say that fashion has come a long way.”
Mark feigns shock, “You’re dissing our style from back in the day? Careful, young one.”
Charles, cocking an eyebrow, shoots back at Max, “Especially considering the only thing in your closet is Red Bull merch.”
The group bursts into laughter, Max chuckling and nodding in acknowledgment. “Touche, Leclerc. Touche.”
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wlntrsldler · 3 months
Text
poisoned mercury | damned if i do ya (damned if i don't)
a/n: oooohhhh i love them bad. the slow burn is slow burning a little bit. btw the song is daylight by 5sos!
series masterlist | previous | next
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v. damned if i do ya (damned if i don't) by all time low
all the progress luke thought he was making with you was thrown out the window after the concert. at first, he was glad to have some distance between you guys. he was dealing with sorting out what he felt for you. it was stupid, really, how he realized that you reminded him a lot of his childhood nickelodeon crush, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that it was more than that. 
sure, you were a fucking headache sometimes, but he liked it. he liked you. he liked how you always tore him a new one, made him feel normal, like he wasn’t luke castellan – lead singer of poisoned mercury, he was just luke when he was with you. you asked him about his music, his life, but knew when to stop right before the conversation got too heavy because you understood him. you knew how he felt even when he didn’t say it. 
maybe he’d just been around his bandmates too much, teenage boys with emotional iqs of a thumbtack, but you took one look at him and he knew that you understood what he was feeling. as great of a writer he was when it came to music, he was never good with expressing how he felt. 
but now, it’s been weeks since you last talked to him, like really talked to him. whenever he’d see you in your smoke spot, he’d try to start a conversation, but you’d stuff your vape in your pocket and walk away before he could even say hi. you stopped going to the gym in the morning, often coming into the cabin after your workout during random times of the day, no longer following a set schedule. you rarely hung out with the boys, opting to retire into your room earlier than usual. you still joined clarisse during her counselor duties, but she stopped letting the boys tag along when luke was available as much as she used to. she’d offer an apologetic smile to luke and slip out an excuse why he couldn’t join for music lessons. 
luke was tired of it. he didn’t know what went wrong, what he did wrong, to make you act so cold towards him. even when you didn’t know him yet, you were never like this. you always had a snide remark ready for him, but now, he was met with silence. 
on the bright side, he at least had inspiration to write new songs. 
he wandered into the cabin, thinking that it would be empty. clarisse was being held hostage at arts and crafts again. (she complained the whole morning about it until chris offered to join her so she wouldn’t be the only one covered in glitter this time.) the stolls were in the studio recording the instrumentals for the song luke showed them a few days ago. they’d asked him who the song was about, though he had a feeling they already knew. he wasn’t really trying to be secretive with the words. and you, luke could only wonder where you were. 
he stopped in his tracks at the sound of mr. d’s voice in your room. your bedroom door was wide open and luke feared that you’d see him so he hid around the corner, back pressed against the wall. 
“this is serious, kid,” mr. d yelled. “your teammate is pressing charges so i need the full story! i don’t care if you don’t want to talk about it. this can go on your record permanently.” 
“so let it!” you screamed back. luke heard you pacing around your room, heavy steps against the cabin floors. “i don’t care.” 
“i care! i’ve been pretty goddamn lenient when it comes to you, y/n, but this?” mr. d countered, veins on his neck bulging out as he raised his voice. luke had never seen him like this, “this is fucking serious. you need to tell me exactly what happened.” 
“she was talking about you, okay?” you sobbed. you sat on your bed, hands buried in your open palms. “she said something about your addiction. i don’t fucking know how she found out, but she said something and i just lost it, dad. she was talking out her ass and i just needed her to shut up because she didn’t know what the fuck she was talking about.” 
mr. d’s tongue poked the inside of his cheek. he gulped, not saying a word. your dad looked at the decorated wall of your bedroom, polaroids of you and your friends, your framed high school field hockey jersey, and the concert ticket from the first show he ever took you to. he looked down at the pink rug on your floor, unable to say anything. 
you looked up at him, eyes brimmed with tears, “there, i told you. happy now?” 
it wasn’t long before mr. d stormed out of the cabin. luke flinched as the door slammed shut behind him. he heard you sobbing in your bedroom and he contemplated approaching you. you were already mad at him, for a reason that he still didn’t know, so what the hell? 
with a deep breath, luke emerged from the corner and walked towards your door. his knuckles softly knocked on the open door. you looked up at the noise, rubbing your eyes with your forearm. you chewed on your bottom lip, “not in the mood to argue, castellan.” 
“not here to argue,” he stood under your door frame, leaning against the side. “i’m here to see if you’re okay.” 
you had this habit of running away from things when you knew it had the power to hurt you. it wasn’t the healthiest coping mechanism, but your fight or flight response was triggered every time you started catching feelings for someone. it didn’t happen often, you developing actual feelings for people. you developed crushes, sure, but not feelings. 
you didn’t get googly-eyed and love-dumb with guys. you knew better– growing up with a dad who could quite literally transform people’s lives with a snap of his finger made you hyperaware of people’s intentions with you. but sometimes, you get blinded by the guy who sweeps you off your feet and you forget about it all. 
after the concert, you couldn’t stop thinking about luke. you already knew what kind of person he actually was, kind, caring, talented, all of the above, but there was still a nagging voice in your head telling you: “what if this is all an act?” “what if this is his move? pretending to be a different guy from the tabloids just to get you to fall for him then break your heart like everyone else did?” so you fled. you ran away from luke. 
clarisse caught onto you avoiding luke fairly quickly. she no longer saw you two walking into the cabin together in the early mornings when she was getting ready for the day. you started declining invitations to hang out at the activities center, stopped having time to help her with music lessons when the band was tagging along, and started hanging out with her in your room instead of the common space. 
she asked you about it after a week of the same thing. you told her you just weren’t in the mood, lacked energy. you said a million excuses but she could see right through you. you and the lead singer weren’t really subtle with your longing glances. 
you crossed your legs under you, pulling the blanket up to cover your legs. you moved over on your bed, tilting your head to let him inside. luke took his shoes off and closed the door behind him, sock-clad feet tapping against the wooden floors. he sat on the edge of your bed, playing with the stray thread on your blanket. 
“you ever feel like your parents wish they had a different kid?” you whispered, “maybe a kid that wasn’t so difficult?” 
“all the time,” luke replied, “every time my name is in the tabloids, i swear it takes years off my mom’s life.” 
you laughed, sniffling, “you need to take it easy on your mom. she’s too good for this world.” 
“that she is,” he leaned back on his elbows, resting his head on his shoulder. he tapped your leg under the blanket, “you know your dad loves you, right?”
“yeah,” you sighed, looking at luke. your makeup was smudged under your eyes and it took all his power not to lean over to wipe it away. you hunched your shoulders over when you spoke again, “just feels like sometimes i’m too much for him and i don’t know how to stop doing that.” 
“i don’t think you should.” 
it was the truth. you dealt in extremes. you were intense but it was only because you were passionate about things. he’d seen you practicing for hours, staying up late to help the younger kids with their projects even if it wasn’t your job, bossing people around to make sure that the camp activities were perfect. when you put your mind to something, luke knew there was no stopping you. 
“so i’m guessing you heard that whole thing with my dad?” 
“yeah,” luke rubbed the back of his neck. he looked at you, feeling caught that he’d been listening in on your private conversation. “i didn’t know anyone was in here when i walked in.” 
“it’s fine,” you shrugged, “pretty sure the whole camp heard my dad yelling anyways.” 
he laughed, “probably. i’d never seen him like that before. he’s usually so chill. it kinda caught me off guard.” 
“me too.” 
“it’s not as bad as when my mom yells at me though,” luke offered, trying to lighten the mood. he grinned when he saw your eyes brighten. you never did pass up the opportunity to have luke embarrass himself. if he could stop you from crying, he would lay out all his embarrassing stories in front of you for your listening pleasure. “the time she found out that me and trav got banned from wichita, like the whole city, she got so mad that the hotel we were staying at kicked us out because there were so many noise complaints. had to sleep on the bus. my back was killing me the entire time we were playing a show the next day.” 
“what the fuck did you guys do that warranted a ban from the whole city?” 
luke’s cheeks turned pink, “we mooned a cop car.” 
you bursted into uncontrollable laughter, falling back on your pillows. luke watched you, laughing along at your reaction. you were crying again, but it was a good cry this time. luke thought you looked pretty like this; cheeks red, eyes shut as you tried to regain your composure, and smiling, all teeth and lips. he hadn’t seen it in a while and he wanted to take a picture of you right now just so he could always remember how you looked at this moment. he wasn’t sure if he could survive another few weeks without seeing it again.
luke nudged you as your laughter died down, “if shit goes down with your teammate, there will be three of us with a permanent record in this cabin.”
you smiled at him, sadly, voice returning to the hushed tone you used earlier, “you think my dad could forgive me for this?” 
“don’t think anyone could hold a grudge against you even if they tried, five star,” luke placed a hand on your thigh covered by the blanket. he relished in the feeling of the hand you placed over his own. it felt intimate. “what does your mom think about all of this?” 
“i dunno,” you played with the rings on his hand, twisting the silver metals on his fingers, “i haven’t talked to her about it yet. been avoiding her calls.” 
“well, happy to know that i wasn’t the only one getting the silent treatment,” he teased, no bite to his voice. “shit, five star, even with your punishments, you still manage to not make me feel special.” 
you squeezed his hand, a giggle escaping your lips, “shut up.” 
luke looked at you, “you should probably talk to her soon.” 
“i will,” you nodded, meeting his gaze, “soon.” 
the two of you stayed there in silence, you playing with his rings and the bracelets on his arm. you were so enamored by the silver jewelry on his hand, twirling his rings to read each engraving, looking at each design, humming in appreciation. you looked at the camp half blood bracelet on his wrist, recognizing the beads on the string. 
“i can’t believe you got a camp bracelet before i did this summer,” you huffed, admiring the beads. “i’ve been here longer than you and nobody made me one yet.” 
“a little girl made it for me,” luke said, smiling at the memory. “i helped her with her with the production of the song for her summer project and she made it for me.” 
“i didn’t know you also produced music.” luke castellan continued to surprise you. 
“not well,” he replied. “just the basics, but i like to think i helped her out. annabeth— you know her? the kid with perfect pitch. fucking brilliant. smarter than i was at her age.”
“i love beth. i’m pretty sure she’s the smartest 12-year-old to ever exist,” your eyes twinkled, moving your index finger to his own, “what’s the story with this one?”
luke looked down at the ring you were touching. it was the silver ring he bought for himself using his first paycheck from their album sales. it cost him a pretty penny, but it was worth it. the font was tiny, but he memorized the words. 
“aγάπη χωρίς πείσματα δεν έχει νοστιμάδα,” luke said, no doubt butchering the pronunciation. “it’s greek. my mom used to read greek proverbs to me as a child. i think she hoped i’d become the next great philosopher, but instead i became a musician. this phrase stuck with me.”
“what does it mean?”
“love without a bit of stubbornness isn’t tasteful,” he whispered, “it’s a little reminder to myself that even though i can be difficult as shit sometimes, i’m worth it.”
luke cleared his throat, “had a tough time when we first got big. i’m sure you’ve heard of some stories. there was a time when me and my mom didn’t talk much. i thought i knew what was best and i pushed her away. i was so stubborn, five star.” 
“my dad left when i was a kid and for second, i thought i would lose my mom too,” he shook his head, the bitter taste of regret in his mouth as he recalled those memories. “im glad i didn’t. this ring reminds me that no matter how stubborn i am, i still deserve love, y’know? maybe it’s stupid, but sometimes i doubt it. mom always told me that love isn’t supposed to be easy, but it’s supposed to always be worth it– worth all the trouble, the stubbornness, the hurt, so this little phrase keeps me grounded in a weird way.”
“worth it to an extent,” you said. there was something hidden in your words like you were somehow asking him if you fell within the extent of it being worth it. it was in the look in your eye, doubt and worry that maybe you pushed it too far this time and you were no longer worth the fight. 
“extent is subjective. i know my mom thinks i’m worth it. i know that no matter how much me and the stolls get into fights, our friendship is worth it. i know that even though me and chris grew up to be different people, our bond is worth it,” luke leaned in closer as if he was going to tell you a secret, something that stays between you and him, only allowed to be spoken within the walls of your room. “and you, five star–” 
he couldn’t finish his sentence. his words got caught in his throat. he was afraid that if he kept talking, he wouldn’t be able to stop. he didn’t know if there was a universe out there where fighting for you wouldn’t be worth it. had you been thinking about him all this time you’d been apart? have your thoughts been plagued by the idea of him? all he could think of was you. all his songs were about you. it seemed like everything had been about you since he met you. 
is it too much too soon to even say things like that? luke didn’t know where you stood, if you even felt the same way about him as he did about you. how evil must the world be to have you exist in his orbit but not allow him to fight for you? 
the corner of your lips lifted a tiny bit and luke knew he didn’t need to say anything else. you understood. 
luke wanted to stop you when you removed your hand from his, but he didn’t want to test his luck. you dug through the drawer by your bed, pulling out the familiar vape, “i could really go for a smoke right now but this stupid thing died.” 
an idea popped into luke’s mind. he got up, motioning for you to do the same. you stayed seated on your bed, eyebrow raised in concern. 
“come on,” luke sighed, playfully rolling his eyes when you still refused to get up. he held out his hand, looking down at you. “you trust me?” 
you glanced at him then at his hand, deciding. it felt like a loaded question, like he was asking about something more than if you’d go with him to whatever adventure he had planned for the both of you. his heart hammered in his chest as he waited for your answer. you didn’t say anything to his question, unsure if you could rationalize your decision, but when you laced your fingers with his, luke didn’t let go of your hand until you were both out of the campgrounds.
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kiri-thighs · 10 months
Text
Express | J.Fisher
FEM! READER
summary: you and jeremiah are best friends and you two get into a terrible argument on the beach after showing mixed signals of each other's company. you express your feelings for him at the end of it and he realizes with you two obviously ignoring each other that he has those same feelings for you.
warnings: angst, mentions of underage drinking, cursing + TAKES PLACE IN AMAZON PRIME VIDEO SERIES SEASON 2. If you don't want minor spoilers please don't read OR you can watch season 2 first!! this one shot does not completely go with the plot of the show!
thank you and enjoy lovely readers 🤍
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"I can't fucking believe you, Y/N." Jeremiah said, half intoxicated due to them leaving a party at Susannah's house. Susannah was gone and all of you had decided to throw a party.
Rewinding to at least an hour before he had said those words to you, what led up to this moment was surprising. As you and Jeremiah were partying, about to kiss a fight broke out between Milo and Steven.
Another event happened where Skye ended up sharing the news about their mom, Julia making a deal with the kids that lived, well used to live at the Cousins beach house.
You and the others were allowed one week each summer, since the family that Julia had sold it to wasn't going to use it too much. Jeremiah, you and Belly hearing the news, all three of you were happy.
Though there was one person that couldn't accept the deal and that was when Jeremiah and Conrad ended up fighting. You were in the middle of it.
"Jere don't say that-" You said, holding his arm as Jeremiah pushed you away, which caused you to be taken aback. As Belly was leaving, Skye went after her. You stayed as you watched Jeremiah throw hurtful words towards Conrad.
"Jere stop-" You said but Jeremiah looked at you, after everything that he said to Conrad.
"So what you're defending him now too?" Jeremiah asked as you looked at Conrad, before looking down and shaking your head.
"I'm, I'm not sure." You whispered.
"Yeah. There it is again. The I'm not sure from Y/N. One happy thing, such a small thing that everyone could be happy about and you go and ruin it Conrad." Jeremiah said as he walked away.
As everyone seemed to go their separate ways, you stayed in front of Conrad as you felt your chest was hurting.
Conrad was silent, his eyes teary due to the words that Jeremiah said towards him. Conrad looked up as you were lost in thought, your mind vacant before you hear Conrad calling out your name. You looked up at him when he asked, "You okay?" his voice was shaky, hoarse and like it was caught in his throat.
"Yeah...yeah it's just," You started before sighing. "Last summer was messy." You stood there as your voice was shaky too, wondering why in this moment you felt like breaking down.
There was one specific person that you loved so much. That person was Jeremiah Fisher. Yet with how things were going last summer due to the whole love triangle, Susannah and other messy stuff, it was like that again.
You were caught in the middle of it and it was not until this summer that your feelings for Jeremiah were growing uncontrollably larger.
"As soon as school got out, hearing about the house being sold I've been trying hard too. To get the house back. To talk some sense into your dad. To talk to your aunt and I never once told anyone how much things have effected me." You said as your eyes teared up remembering the way Jeremiah and Conrad looked at each other with so much remorse.
"I love Jere. So much, Conrad" You whispered. "Last summer I realized I liked Jeremiah even if he's been my best friend my entire life. Seeing Jere and Bells kiss with Steven, I couldn't take that happiness away." You smiled as you wiped your tears, you weren't a drinker so these were your raw emotions, not intensified too much because there was no alcohol intake.
Conrad seemed to go more silent hearing that Jeremiah and Belly kissed, as if not knowing that already. It was a reminder that Belly couldn't choose. You looked at him as if apologizing for bringing it up.
"Conrad," You called out, "I wanna keep fighting for this house but I don't know how much more all of us can take if it's causing this much damage," You said truthfully as your tears were falling harder. Conrad was crying as well, his head held low before pulling you into a hug.
You two were somewhat the same. Bottling things up, though Conrad got the bigger blow. You hugged Conrad tightly as you sniffled, continuing what you were saying.
"I just had to be there for you both," You mumbled. "You are here," Conrad mumbled. "You are, you really are." Conrad said in a shaky tone, not knowing how else to comfort you. Not knowing if what he was doing for you was helping you feel better.
You didn't want Belly to be alone but the one person that needed someone, knowing that Conrad would go after Belly, you knew no one would be there for Jeremiah.
Conrad pulled away as you wiped your tears. Conrad wiped his away as he patted your head. "Go after Belly," You told Conrad. You pointed to his chest.
"I already know you will." You smiled at him as Conrad nodded. Everyone rarely saw you cry. You knew that you had just let it all go to Conrad, but knew that he had something to take care.
Conrad nodded as he slowly walked away from you, leaving you there to wipe your tears away in hopes that they would be gone. You took a deep breath before walking back into the beach house, the strobing lights still seen through the house's windows since the curtains seemed to not be covering any part of the windows.
You looked through the crowd, trying to find Jeremiah amongst the people dancing and drinking. The smell of alcohol and cigarettes always made you cringe, you and Cam always got along pretty well when it came to parties because you two didn't drink.
You didn't drink specifically because your mom died due to a drunk driver. You didn't want to be that way, and there would come a time when you would finally drink.
You saw spray painting on the wall, people breaking windows and tables as you shook your head, moving past people who were shoving you left and right.
Finally though you found Jeremiah standing against a wall with a red cup already in his hands. You were in front of him as he looked down at you with the same angry expression he showed Conrad.
He was ready to leave, pulling his weight off of the wall as he turned away from you. You grabbed his wrist quickly, making him accidentally drop the red cup in his hand, spilling the drink on the ground.
Jeremiah tried his hardest to hold back his anger, you being his best friend he couldn't be mad. Not at you completely. You looked up at him as he turned around, his eyes still averted away from yours.
"Can we talk?" You asked him, loud enough to go past the loud music that was playing.
"I don't see a reason," Jeremiah said as you bit the inside of your lip and held his wrist harder.
"Then you don't need a reason but I have one." You said as Jeremiah finally looking at you. The reason he didn't want to look at you was because he saw you crying on Conrad.
He knew the reason why you were crying and it was because of him. He knew that too well that he was the one that made you cry, yet he couldn't comfort you and say that it was okay.
Jeremiah pulled his wrist away from your strong grip before walking outside with you, to the beach, a different part of it since Belly and Conrad were talking as well.
You followed after him, as you stared at the back of his head before he finally stopped when you both reached your favorite log on the beach. He turned around as he stared at you with a look of anger still.
"If this is about what I said to Conrad, I'm not taking it back." Jeremiah said.
"Jere you didn't have to say all of that-" "He asked for my blessing, Y/N" Jeremiah started getting riled up, already feeling that anger was bottled up inside of him.
"Yes he did, but he needed someone, he needed his brother and this summer you guys have been butting heads indirectly but things were getting better," You said as had your hands out, you trying not to get teary eyed. Yes you were defending Conrad because he was in the right, but you wanted Jeremiah to know that too.
"Since when were we getting better?" Jeremiah asked as he scoffed, laughing a bit because it was unbelievable to him. "He took Belly away from me. I had to watch him and Belly together. I thought of all people you would know how lonely I was because I was there for my mom when no one wasn't." Jeremiah said, his voice partially raising.
You felt your heart ache as your tears were starting to become visible but you wiped your face while Jeremiah was looking away. You didn't know. How else to tell him. How else could you possibly comfort him?
"Jere," You called out, "I'm here," Was all that could slip out.
"Where were you then? When were you here?" Jeremiah asked as his eyes were tearing up, his eyes seeming to get rid of the anger slowly but it was evidently still there.
"You always comforted everyone else before you came and checked up on me. You ran after Belly when her and Conrad fought at my mom's funeral. MY MOM'S funeral. You told me that you would always be there for me first, you liar." Jeremiah pointed to his chest, as he was hitting his chest with his fingers as he was saying that.
You hated it. Seeing him in so much pain but you were in pain as well. "Jere, I tried to take care of everyone and I'm sorry. I swear I came to check up on you first you're twisting the story," You said, trying to stay calm, while Jeremiah was raising his voice at you.
"You know what, whose side are you on?" Jeremiah asked as he put his hands on his hips, turning his body as he was now rejecting looking at you.
"I saw Conrad hugging you," "Jere are you seriously doing this right now-" "Doing what? Watching you be comforted because you're what the girl version of me and Conrad combined? Bottling shit up and then acting like it's okay? Yet you don't even go and run after me?"
"You aren't making any sense Jere why are you blaming me for that thing specifically?" You asked as you put your hand on Jeremiah's but he pushed you away once again, like he did back there during his argument with Conrad.
"Don't fucking touch me." Jeremiah said with a rough voice. "Whose side are you on." Jeremiah asked as you bit your lip.
You clenched your fists, "What do you even mean Jere?!" You finally yelled which took him aback. You looked away as your chest was heaving.
"When was I here? I've been here the entire time! Being in the middle of you and Conrad. The middle of you and Belly. The middle of you three!" You yelled as you stepped towards him, you pointing your finger on his chest as you were pushing him with it.
"I was there even if I was in pain too. With my mother's death at the beginning of last summer, then Susannah was next. You don't see it do you?" You asked as your tears were falling uncontrollably.
"You needed someone and when you say no one was there for you I watched you miserably. I watched you and felt invisible. You focused on Belly so much when you guys had a thing and I had to act like I was okay with that." You laughed but it mixed with crying too.
"I tried so hard to continuously fix things. Every time Belly had a conflict with Conrad or you I would be there for her. Every time you felt so alone I was there. I was there for each and every one of you and yet you're asking me where I was?!" You yelled.
"Y/N-" Jeremiah said as he took your finger off of his chest and held your hand but you pulled your hand off of him. "I get how much Belly effected you. How much you love her," You said as you knew the next words that you were about to say were fucked up. You knew that you shouldn't put yourself before others.
"I love you Jere," You said, in hopes that he would return the feelings. Yet you knew. You knew that you two made a promise to one another that you would never fall for each other.
There was complete silence, the silence killing you but Jeremiah was taking time to process. The processing ended up stopping, but the next words that Jeremiah said towards you were words that you wished he would never say to you, but he did.
"I can't fucking believe you, Y/N" Jeremiah said as he had a face of disgust. An expression he never had towards you but to others. You saw the way he looked at you, the way that you wished he hadn't.
"So that's it," You said as your breath hitched before your next words came. "You and I were about to kiss, obviously getting even closer during this whole week and you say that to me," You said as Jeremiah looked away.
"That was a mistake," Jeremiah said as your lips quivered, tears falling harder. "I didn't mean to do that. I just wanted to kiss someone." Jeremiah lied, but you didn't know that. Jeremiah knew that he didn't want to hurt you if he was still in love with Belly.
"You wanted to kiss someone?" You asked as Jeremiah nodded. "I love Belly." Jeremiah said straightforwardly. "We promised each other that we wouldn't."
"Fuck- promises are meant to be broken!" You yelled. "Can't you make an exception just this once? That you can love me somehow? The way I love you?" You asked, begging for Jeremiah to somehow look at you the way he always has.
The one time that you finally break, after being so worn out with being the therapy friend, the friend that everyone could depend on but at your lowest moments you could only depend on Susannah and Laurel.
Susannah was gone and that impacted you too but you knew that if you compared it to the pain that Jeremiah and Conrad felt, it would be selfish. That the mother figure that replaced your mom when she passed, was now gone and the last mother figure you had was Laurel.
"I can't fucking look at you." Jeremiah said, his breath shaky. "I can't believe you." Jeremiah said as he started walking past you. You didn't watch him leave, as you stood there, still in front of your favorite log that you two would always have heartfelt conversations on.
Before he could walk away completely, you turned to him. "You can't just leave it at that!" You yelled before Jeremiah stopped. You sobbed as you begged for him one more time, wanting his answer to change.
"Yes I can." Jeremiah said as he turned around, his eyebrows knitted. "I can say that I can't." Jeremiah said, his voice shaky because he was afraid. Afraid that he was losing you now too and it was because of the words that were coming out of his mouth.
You walked up to him and tried your hardest but still he pushed you off of him. He would never treat a girl like this, ever. Yet it seemed like you were a different case. He wanted to get away from you.
"Just- Just get away from me alright?!" Jeremiah yelled which made you stop. You froze and as you did, Jeremiah ran his fingers through his hair before his tears fell as his breath was hitching too.
You watched as he sobbed, his emotions seeming to stir in the pot but with each new ingredient in there, it was the wrong ones every time. You reached out to Jeremiah, but your efforts were short as he finally decided to leave.
This time you didn't go after him. As much as you tried to comfort him, he still walked away without turning back even if your cries were heard. You had tried to hug him, knowing that was always the solution but this time, that solution was last place.
You fell to your knees as you sobbed out, wishing that the conversation ended on a high note but it didn't. Your heart ached before you felt everything suddenly get blurry and shaky. Due to the many emotions you were feeling everything had gone black.
NEXT MORNING
The sun was shining over Cousins beach. The next morning came and everyone at the party was gone. The guests were gone at least except the mess that was left behind.
You felt your breath catch in your lungs before waking up when you felt the glare of the sun hitting your body. You woke up, getting up from the sand on the beach.
"Did I really sleep here?" You asked before your eyes softened realizing no one noticed you were gone. You were hoping Jeremiah would at least bring you inside or be concerned for you seeing that you didn't come inside later that night.
You had your hands on the sand before standing up, your legs feeling numb because of the emotions that were still hitting you right as you wake up.
You walked off of the beach and into the beach house, seeing that the door was wide open, before realizing Laurel's car was there in the driveway.
You blinked before you realized. You ran inside but was met with Belly walking out of the house. Belly was holding her cheek. "Bells?" You called out as held her arm, trying to stop her. She hugged you tightly, her tears falling onto your shoulder.
You were shocked seeing the amount of tears coming out of Belly's eyes. You held the back of her head as you hugged her tightly before she pulled away and walked out to the beach.
You watched as she left, your breathing on double time before walking inside knowing that she needed space. You saw Laurel there, with Steven, Conrad and Jeremiah.
Steven told Laurel that Belly and the rest of the kids were at least here for Susannah's boys while Laurel was absent. After hearing Laurel already knew about the house being up for sale. Everyone walked away from Laurel and apparently you now. Jeremiah didn't bat an eye at you, covered in sand.
Laurel looked over to you before you looked away. "I'll start cleaning up," You whispered. "Belly needs her mom right now." You whispered before grabbing a trash bag, feeling somewhat small as you started to clean the place.
It was an hour or two later that Laurel announced that she would fight for the house and talk to Julia about it. Everyone was thankful for Laurel, glad that Belly reached out to her mom.
You kept your distance from everyone as you felt invisible and sad again. You looked at Jeremiah a few times but he never looked at you. He really did mean that he wouldn't look at you at all.
Julia finally arrived and as the kids were cleaning up, Laurel pulled Julia aside talking at Susannah and her's favorite spot.
You continued to clean up as Belly came over to you with Taylor. "You okay?" Belly asked, her hand on your back. You didn't know that Jeremiah and the others were also listening in as well.
"Yeah, just a little tired." You told Belly. "Jere and I had a big argument last night." You smiled sadly. As Belly pulled you aside along with Taylor and Skye who seemed to tag along, Steven looked over at Jeremiah.
"What happened?" Steven asked Jeremiah who was scrubbing the wall, trying to get the spray paint off of it. Jeremiah shook his head. He knew if he thought about it then he would've said the wrong things somehow.
"Nothing," "Well it doesn't seem like nothing Jere. Taylor and I watched the whole thing. I wanted to punch you so badly seeing the way you made her cry." Steven said as Conrad awkwardly listened, still on the silent treatment with Jeremiah.
Steven put down his trash bag as he made Jeremiah stop too. "I get it. We've all been through a lot of shit man but I know damn well that you love Y/N. More than Belly." Steven said as Jeremiah looked away.
"I don't." "You really are an airhead like they all say." Steven chuckled before making Jeremiah face him.
"You may think that taking the easier option is better but the better option will always be there for you and if I'm going to be honest it's Y/N. You said it so yourself. Belly will always have something for Conrad. There's someone though waiting for you." Steven said since Conrad left the room. Jeremiah looked up at Steven as Steven was awkwardly smiling.
"I.." Jeremiah said before his shoulders fell, "I fucked up so badly," Jeremiah said as Steven agreed.
"Well yeah. Can't say that I don't agree with you cause I do." Steven laughed as Jeremiah nodded.
"I..I don't know. I just don't know." "Well you gotta know somehow. All the things you said weren't her true intentions and even you know that when you start to regret what you said. She's always been there for you. Through everything. Of course she would love you dude. It isn't hard to love someone like you. Especially her. She always finds a reason." Steven reassured as Jeremiah's eyes teared up.
"Do you think she'd forgive me? For the things I said? I've never in my life spoke to her like that. I've never said such harsh things to her and yet in that moment it felt that that was the only thing that I could do." Jeremiah explained, his obvious regret showing.
"Give it a day or two. You'll probably realize it more." Steven patted Jeremiah's shoulder. "What you said was fucked. Even I would be hurt if someone said that to me." Steven said, not trying to blame Jeremiah but he knew that the two would push through.
Jeremiah paused for a bit before nodding. He knew that he had to do something somehow. He knew if he wasn't there for you the way you were there for him, then no one would be. Hearing that you slept on the beach, eavesdropping and everything no one came to come get you.
Jeremiah knew that as a best friend he should've been there for you. To carry you inside despite being so mad at you. He knew that he put his emotions first. Who knows what could've happened. He wasn't there for you the way you were there for him.
Those thoughts of what he said to you last night started to course through his mind. He winced at the thought of everything as Steven went to go clean more.
He would give it a day or two, in hopes that he would realize it all.
That he needed you, and loved you the way you did.
Taylor was currently giving you a hug as you tried your best not to cry. You stayed so strong up until now but again, you were a carbon copy of Conrad and Jeremiah combined. Belly and Skye were rubbing your back as you cried.
You hated the words that Jeremiah said towards you. Taylor had heard it all with Steven and explained everything to Belly and Skye for you so that you didn't have to.
You closed your eyes, hoping that all of this was a bad dream. Hoping that what Jeremiah said wasn't meant. Your chest kept on going up and down quickly. You were hiccuping as your walls crashed down.
You hoped that the house would be in the possession of the boys. You knew though that you didn't want to be a part of it anymore. You told yourself as you were being comforted, that this would be your last summer at the Cousin's house.
THE NEXT DAY
As you all were wrapping things up, Conrad and Jeremiah had a heartfelt conversations the night before. It seemed that everything was able to be fixed yesterday except things with you and Jeremiah.
You of course included yourself in helping Conrad study for his test in Brown to get into Stanford. Everyone was all for it, especially Belly. Yesterday evening was the last time you saw Julia and Skye for now.
After being able to convince Jeremiah and Conrad's dad about selling the house they had in Boston, things started to get good from there.
The morning came around and things needed to finish up. With the house not being on the market, everyone needed to go home and would be able to come back whenever they'd like and whenever everyone had free time.
You smiled as you were saying goodbye to Laurel. While the others were saying goodbye to one another, you wanted to talk to Laurel first.
"Thank you so much Laurel for everything that you've done up to this point." You said as you were holding her hands. Laurel smiled as she looked at you. You looked back at her, and the obvious eye bags were under your eyes.
"I heard what happened between you and Jeremiah," Laurel said as she gave you a hug. "Thank you so much for being here for everyone. We'd love to see you here again next summer or this summer if anything." You softened up in Laurel's hold before holding onto her and smiling.
"I'll think about it," You said as Laurel nodded. Laurel slowly pulled away as everyone started getting into their cars. You ended up actually driving here, so you didn't have a problem taking your time getting home. You took a good look at the Cousins house.
You weren't ready to leave yet, as everyone was talking about when they would next be all together. Everyone was saying the fourth. You looked at everyone in the group before smiling and humming.
"Yeah, I'll be available whenever." You chuckled as you started waving goodbye to everyone. "I'm gonna stay here for a bit longer. Conrad tell me how the test goes. Tell us everything," You smiled as Conrad nodded, with a content smile.
"See you whenever, Y/N" You nodded as everyone seemed to be driving out of the driveway. You didn't notice that Jeremiah actually stayed behind, instead of driving off in his brother's car. Conrad ended up leaving without Jeremiah.
You had your back turned, oblivious to Jeremiah staying behind as you walked into the Cousin's house, going to the pool as you dipped your feet in the cold water.
You heard the door open and looked back seeing Jeremiah was there, his hands in his pockets as he looked over at you, sitting on the ledge of the swimming pool.
You slowly looked away, still kicking your feet gently. Jeremiah slowly sat next to you, dipping his feet in the water with yours. It was silent for a good minute as the awkward silence was sitting there with you two as well.
Jeremiah was the first to break the silence, as he looked at you slowly, seeing that you were watching your feet kick in the water that you were now used to since they have been in there for at least a minute.
"Let's talk?" He asked as you tensed up a little before shaking your head. "I don't see a reason to." You snapped back, repeating his words from last night. To your surprise though, Jeremiah said the exact same thing that you had said to him too. You both switched placed though.
"Then you don't need a reason but I have one." Jeremiah whispered which made you stop kicking your feet. You slowly looked over at Jeremiah, your eyes already teary eyed. Jeremiah stared at your hurt filled eyes as he winced seeing how drained you looked.
Jeremiah reached up as he cupped your cheek gently, but you pulled away a bit. Jeremiah still tried though, holding both of your cheeks as he took a good look at you.
"No," Jeremiah whispered. "Don't pull away," You shook your head more as you held onto Jeremiah's wrists, wanting to shove his hands off of you but you knew that if you didn't want to do that truly.
"But you did," You told Jeremiah as you continued to look at his ocean eyes. "You pushed me away," Jeremiah nodded.
"I know I did, and I'm sorry Y/N." Jeremiah said as he wiped away the tears that were streaming down your cheeks as they were coming down.
"You didn't eat today or yesterday. You haven't slept either. I saw you were still awake even when everyone else was sleeping." Jeremiah said as he put his thumb gently under one of your eyes, seeing the obvious eye bags that already grew.
"It's hard to when you're mad at me." You admitted. "I didn't think you would have noticed me at all since you said that you couldn't look at me," You looked away as Jeremiah's eyes softened.
"Everything with Conrad, I resolved all of it. We told each other that we would talk things out as they come and not let them linger." Jeremiah admitted towards you.
"Things with Belly..I already knew that I don't love her that way. That there will always be a better option for me and..Y/N that's you." Jeremiah said, trying to convince you that the words he said to you a night ago was wrong.
You continued to look away as Jeremiah was the one speaking this time. "I do love you too. In the way that a best friend does but the way that a lover does too." Jeremiah said as he slowly let go of your cheeks, grabbing hold of your hands that he noticed were shaking, seeing your body tremble as well.
He could still see the silent cries you were giving and he knew that instead of being jealous of others that he'd rather be there for you than watch you crying in someone else's arms.
You stayed silent as you listened to Jeremiah, still trying to register everything. "I know..it's hard to forget what I said. But I'd rather say this and take back all of the words." Jeremiah held your hands still, trying to stop them from shaking as he kissed your hands gently.
He closed his eyes, "I'm so sorry for the way I talked to you. I'm sorry for making you cry. I'm sorry for blaming you and lying to you that it was a mistake." You started to sob but Jeremiah didn't stop.
"I'm sorry for pushing you away and thinking you're invisible..you aren't. I needed someone and Belly couldn't be there for me because she was always with Conrad the most. I'm sorry for forgetting about you." Jeremiah's voice started to become shaky, starting to get emotional as he continued.
"I'm sorry for never realizing how much I loved you, Y/N." Jeremiah stopped when you took your hands off of Jeremiah's hands. With this, Jeremiah thought that you were going to get up and leave but you had your hands on his chest, pushing him gently.
Jeremiah looked up at you as you looked at him, hiccuping as your voice finally came out. "Stop," You whispered as you punched him gently, "Just kiss me already," You begged as Jeremiah's eyes widened.
Jeremiah put his forehead on yours as he watched you start to calm down, feeling how close he was to you. Jeremiah gently, hesitantly grabbed your cheek.
"I want to kiss you, I really do." Jeremiah said as your noses touched, booping one another's. "Out of all the people, it was always you." Jeremiah said before his lips hit yours.
Your body stopped trembling, as you melted into the kiss that Jeremiah had given you. Your first kiss was with your best friend. This was Jeremiah's millionth kiss probably but to you, this was the kiss you wanted it to be with.
You kissed Jeremiah, wrapping your arms around Jeremiah's neck as you pulled him closer.
He pulled you closer by the waist as he held you tightly, not wanting to let you go. You pulled away for a second before reconnecting your lips together with his.
Jeremiah tucked some strands of your hair behind your ear, feeling his chest was about to explode because of how much his heart was beating double time.
No one else could make both of you feel this way, both of you knew that for sure as you felt sparks. As Jeremiah slowly pulled away, Jeremiah stared into your eyes as he smiled softly, seeing how out of breath you were.
"The tears are gone." Jeremiah pointed out as he hugged you tightly, burying his face in your neck. You pressed your lips against his curly hair, closing your eyes slowly.
Jeremiah looked up at you again, pulling away a bit from the hug. He connected his lips with yours again, kissing you was so easy to him it seemed.
You kissed him back instantly, smiling in the kiss because you felt better. You felt that things really were going to be okay with Jeremiah. Jeremiah pulled away this time, staring at your lips before pecking it gently with a smile.
Jeremiah rubbed your back gently before getting up and helping you up as well. Jeremiah held your hands before sitting down on one of the beach chairs with you. He put you on his lap gently, having you face him.
You had your hands on his shoulders, having some support as you stared into his eyes.
As you two were silently looking at one another, the silence was broken when both of you said at the same time,
"I love you," You and him stared at each other before laughing softly together.
"Let's stay here for a bit, then I'll come over and sleep over." Jeremiah said as you nodded.
"I'd love that, a lot." You said as you pushed all of your weight on Jeremiah's as he laid on the beach chair with you on top of him.
Jeremiah kissed your forehead gently, having his arms up as a arm pillow.
Jeremiah closed his eyes as he smiled softly. "Me too,"
1K notes · View notes
neptuneiris · 1 year
Text
cardigan (02/03)
tried to change the ending, Peter losing Wendy.
pairing: modern!aemond × best friend reader!
summary: being in love with your best friend since high school becomes a strong and unavoidable feeling. until it starts to become more difficult when you get to college and the two of you, especially him, meet new people.
word count: 8.4k
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As you're looking down at yourself, making sure there's nothing out of place, you just hear the loud sound of Sara inhaling deeply which makes you startle and you watch her quickly in panic.
hello! i just want to say that i can't believe how much you guys loved the first part. the story just exploded hehe. I'm so grateful for that, for your support and your opinions, I didn't think it would happen so soon, thank you very much.
i wanted to give you part two after such a quick acknowledgement and support, truly thank you so much and also let me know what you think of this second part please, i love reading and responding to you. enjoy!
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"You like this one?"
"What?"
"No fucking way, Y/N! You look amazing!"
And at that moment you can feel the color come back to your face and you calm down.
"Come here!" she asks you excitedly, "I want to take a closer look."
You stand in front of her and turn on your own axis to get a better look at yourself in the large full-length mirror, instantly liking what you see.
Last year your dress for the Targaryen ball was red. And you don't usually repeat colors. So now you've chosen a deep ocean blue dress.
Which is Aemond's favorite color.
"This is the one, definitely."
"Really?" you put your hair behind your shoulders, watching you carefully, "Is this one better than the last one?"
"In my opinion the style is better."
You've tried on dresses of the same color in different styles before and honestly… you liked this one better than the others.
It's a long dress open at an angle exposing your left leg. It has no neckline, is strapless and shimmers in a metallic shade beautifully.
This is it.
You think definitely more convinced than ever as you look in the mirror after a few more inspections. You'll shine brighter with your hair and makeup done, you know it and you know you'll look beautiful. That's why you can't wait for the day to come.
You can't wait for Aemond to see you.
"And why did you choose this color?"
"Because it's Aemond's favorite color and it will match his sapphire."
"Oh yes," says Sara in a reminiscent tone, "I had forgotten that detail about your best friend."
"His sapphire eye?"
"Yes."
"But if that's precisely why everyone at the university knows him."
"They also know him for his hair and for apparently having come from the very palace of the Greek gods, don't forget," she says, also amused.
You let out a small laugh.
"Yeah, it's true."
After a little silence between the two of them where they inspect the dress, Sara stirs a little and seems to fight against herself to say what she wants to say. Until she grimaces and nerves invade her as she speaks.
"Listen Y/N…" she says cautiously, "It's not that I want to be nosy or anything, in fact I don't like to know people's things about things like…" she bites the inside of her cheek "That seem very delicate" she says finally "And it's that I'm very curious, I—
"You're a gossip, Sara," you remind him in an amused tone, interrupting her.
"Well… yeah, it's true, who am I kidding," she nods in acknowledgment, shrugging her shoulders and you laugh.
"You want to know what happened to Aemond's eye?"
"Yes," she murmurs, almost embarrassed, "But it's just out of curiosity and if it's something very personal then I understand."
You take a long breath and look away from the mirror to observe her.
"Yes, it's very personal," you tell her, "I can only tell you that it was a horrible accident that happened to him as a kid. He still finds it a little difficult to talk about it, even with his mother and sister."
"Yes, of course," Sara nods sympathetically, "In fact something like that I had imagined."
You nod too, sympathetically, thinking about it.
"At first, when I met Aemond in high school and we started our friendship, he didn't want to tell me," you confess, "It's not as if I insisted on the matter, of course not... but he knew I was curious about it. And it wasn't until after he was sure that I wasn't a fake friend, as I was with him, that we both confided a lot of things to each other until he told me about his accident."
"How old was he?" she ask attentively and curiously.
"Barely ten."
Sara raises her eyebrows in surprise with a face of pity.
"Ten?" she repeats in a murmur, "Wow. I can't even imagine. It must have been pretty awful, huh?"
"It was," you assure her.
You know Aemond has only told about what happened to you and a guy who was his best friend in high school, who now that guy got into another college in another state.
And what happened was that Aemond defended his little nephew, Luke, from some boys who were picking on him and wanting to almost beat him up at school.
But the blows went to Aemond who had to defend himself as best he could against four boys even a little bigger than he was at the time.
Then one of the boys did not measure his strength, hit him and pushed him too, and because of the push Aemond fell on top of a net of wires that made up a small garden in the huge backyard of the school.
They didn't even let him get up, so Aemond also hurt some parts of his body.
And out of desperation, before he could try to do anything, another one of the boys hit him in the face and that's when a piece of wire ripped his eye as he turned his head towards the wires from the blow.
When Aemond was telling you everything, you didn't even know what to say.
And the best punishment the bully boys could have received was to have been expelled. But it wasn't enough for Aemond and his family. They had taken his eye and that was 'justice'.
Luckily his whole family supported him and was there for him through the whole difficult process of doctors appointments, therapies, medications and so on.
His uncle Daemon especially made sure he received the best possible treatment with the best doctors and nurses while his older sister, Rhaenyra, searched for solutions to his lost eye along with his mother.
"And why does he have that sapphire? Didn't he think about a prosthesis or something like that?"
"As a kid, all he wanted was to recover and cope with the physical and emotional pain, and also to get used to his only right sight," you explain, "And then he told me he was thinking about it, but it's been a long time. Maybe he has already got used to the sapphire."
"And it doesn't hurt him?" asks Sara curiously, thoughtfully.
"No, he always has his appointments with the ophthalmologist," you let her know, "I guess the sapphire is to maintain an appearance. Kind of like what rich people do."
"Oh, of course," Sara nods with more understanding, "It makes perfect sense vonsidering how exaggeratedly rich he and his family are."
You let out a small laugh, turning to look at yourself in the mirror at the beautiful dress.
"Yes, they are," you murmur, "Are you sure your aunt will let me pay her weekly?" you ask, looking at her again a little worried.
"I already told you yes, Y/N. Stop worrying," she says amused.
"But she already knows?" you ask distrustful.
"Yes, she knows," she assures you for the eighth time, "She just said that by the time you decide to stop paying for it for one reason or another, there is no refund and you have to return the dress. And if you tear it, stain it or something, you pay extra."
"Oh, I'm not worried about that," you make a nonchalant gesture, "I'm definitely going to finish paying for it."
You think about how the dress is so beautiful that it doesn't deserve to be worn for just one occasion. You can wear it to another event, not necessarily just the ball.
And after you've picked out the last dress, you both leave the dressing room, secure everything for payment, and Sara takes you home and you both say goodbye saying you will see each other tomorrow in class.
When you arrive at the apartment, only Vhagar greets you, to which you assume that Aemond must still be in class or with his girlfriend.
So you decide to take Vhagar with you to your room to do some homework and wait for Aemond to arrive to have dinner together.
And by the time you finally hear his arrival at the apartment, you take Vhagar in your arms and leave your room to ask him how his day was and what he wants for dinner tonight to see if it matches what you want.
But the words get stuck in your throat the moment you see him and your eyes meet his, watching him in shock, definitely not expecting this.
And at your reaction of saying nothing and continuing to stare at him in disbelief, he lets out a small laugh as he runs a hand through his neck and hair.
"What do you think?"
And that's when you seem to remember how to talk.
"No way," you mutter, "Are you fucking kidding?"
"As I understand it, your head can't grow, Y/N. At least not at this age," he tells you amused.
"Shit," you say still in disbelief, "It looks fucking amazing, Aemond!" you finally react with a huge smile.
He has cut his hair.
His fucking long hair is now short and he looks so ridiculously good, like it's not an everyday thing, as well as he looks even better than before and even... sexy.
And in an instant you're all over him, running your fingers through now his short, silky, still straight hair with some waves at the ends that now point slightly upwards.
Even his face, his figure, his sapphire, everything about him looks better than before just because of a haircut.
"Why didn't you tell me?" you ask, still surprised and puzzled, with a small smile.
"I wanted it to be a surprise," he says with a smile, "What do you say, do you really like it?"
"I love it," you confess, "Even you, everything about you—
You stop, not wanting to look nervous, not wanting to insinuate your true feelings for him through his new appearance.
That's why you think very well what you will say before you speak, controlling yourself not to say anything too much.
"Well... it looks better," you finally say.
"Thank you, pretty one."
He smiles at you and you melt at the sight of his expression, simply because of the gesture accompanied by his new cut, so you couldn't be more ridiculous, but you can't help it either.
You find it so attractive and so striking the way you watch his dimples form and look, even they so damn good, again, because of his new haircut.
"I hope Alys likes it too."
You bite your lips, not wanting to focus on his comment at the mention of his girlfriend.
"And why did you decide to cut it?" you ask not to talk about her, acting nonchalant but still feeling surprised.
"I thought it would be a good idea to cut it for the ball," he confesses, "It's this weekend and I thought I'd do it now because I knew I wouldn't do it later."
You both laugh, as that is very Aemond Targaryen and you both know it.
"Well, I'm glad to hear that," you say with a small smile, "I've got everything ready for the ball too."
"Oh really?" he raises his eyebrows, interested, "Now what color dress did you choose?"
"Nope. No details."
You turn away from him in an instant and head to the fridge to finally make dinner, because you know if he keeps looking at you and talking like that, you'll end up showing him everything.
"Oh come on, Y/N."
"I'm so sorry but you'll have to wait for the day."
"Are you serious?" he asks you.
"Even your new haircut isn't going to convince me."
"Hmm."
He certainly says with a disappointed tone and you let out a laugh.
"Be patient, Aemond. Now..." You look at him, "What do you want for dinner?"
You and Aemond talk about what his mother has told him she has planned this time for the ball with his sister Rhaenyra while you prepare dinner and listen to him at the same time. And when everything is ready, you both watch a movie in the living room.
And the next morning, Aemond Targaryen with his new haircut is all you hear about even among all the girls in your apartment. Even something as simple as a haircut drives them all crazy. Even you.
But that it's already a real topic of conversation is amazing.
And the next few days are really stressful for you, also for Aemond, as you have to push your respective careers forward with homework and projects.
In fact the week is so busy that you barely have time for breakfast in the morning as you have to rush to the university. Aemond also told you that he was very busy with the same thing.
But it's worth it.
You tell yourself even in every break that you actually make use of to continue doing more homework.
And for you there is no better motivation than knowing that by the time the week is over, you will finally be free and the ball will be a great way to finally relax and have fun with your best friend.
And you honestly can't wait.
However, you were not prepared to hear what Aemond says to you the day before the ball when you arrive at the apartment and he is already there, apparently waiting for your arrival.
And you knew it wouldn't be good what he would say to you the moment you see the sadness, worry and sorrow in his eyes as he watches you.
"My family wants to meet Alys."
He tells you and then says nothing for a few more seconds, looking away from you, running a hand through his hair, frustrated, to which you already know what he will probably tell you.
"And I couldn't think of any better occasion than to take her with me to the ball so everyone can meet her."
And her words stab like a dagger into your heart, shattering it into little pieces.
And he speaks to you so softly, so carefully and so sorrowfully at the same time while you want to believe it's a damn joke and he's really not doing this to you.
"I'm so sorry, my pretty one," he looks at you with all the anguish in his eyes for your reaction, worried, "Could you do me this favor, just this once, please?"
Do him the favor?
You repeat in your mind, just watching him without really having any expression in your look, because you don't want to make him see that he has broken you with this news and this suddenly change of plans.
And his next words only make you feel worse for your lack of response, with him wanting to make the situation better, as if it were possible.
"You could still come, you know. I'll be with Alys, but Helaena or Aegon can keep you company and eventually I'll try to be around you as well."
"I'm not taking Alys."
He had said.
"This ball belongs to both of us, it always has. And I'm not going to break the tradition."
He had promised you.
And you say to yourself: he is asking you this as a favor. It's just a ball and it's only fair that his escort should be his girlfriend. Don't bother, you shouldn't bother.
"I know you had everything ready and I know I shouldn't be telling you this a day early."
He continues saying to you with sorrow, and then he goes to you in a desperate action and takes your hands in his.
"But I promise you that I will make it up to you, I will—
Unable to stand it any longer, you take your hands from his, which makes him stop and look at you instantly, a little surprised and worried by your reaction.
And you again... you act unconcerned and like it's no big deal.
Mostly because you no longer want to keep listening to his promises that are worthless in the end, you also don't want to be around him right now and also because you want to end the matter once and for all.
"Okay, I understand."
You tell him with the best look you can put at that moment, really trying to pretend that everything is fine, almost convincing him, almost.
"Don't worry."
And without waiting for anything else, because you really want to get away from him, feeling that if he tells you something else you're really going to burst into tears right then and there, you walk past him and head to your room.
But he doesn't let you go so easily.
"Y/N..." He holds you by the shoulders, looking at you worriedly, "Talk to me, please."
You let out a small laugh, the fakest laugh you've ever let out, trying with all your might to make it okay.
"What do you want me to say? I told you it's okay."
Again you try to pass by him but he again stops you. And you let him.
You let him because you don't want him to see you bad, broken. You let him because if you get upset, if you let him see that he has broken you, you fear he will realize your true feelings.
And you don't want that now that he has a girlfriend and looks happy with her. So happy that she even managed to change his mind about taking her to the ball even though he told you he wouldn't because that ball belonged to the two of you.
And you don't want to ruin that for him if that's what he wants, you also don't want to make a big deal about the change of plans. You want to make him see that you're okay with it.
Again...you don't want to look sad and broken in front of him.
"I know you, Y/N," he says to you in a sad, apologetic soft voice, "I know you're not okay with me wanting to take her now because I told you I wouldn't, that this ball belongs to both of us," he lets out a long breath, "But I—
"I'm perfectly fine with it, Aemond," you interrupt him with the most nonchalant and fake look possible, "I mean... she's your girlfriend and it's only fair that you take her, right?"
And your words don't know why they make her feel worse when that's just what she needed from you: understanding.
But somehow it feels a hell of a lot worse that you're understanding him after he knows he promised you he wouldn't take her and you'd both go together.
"But you—
"Look... actually this is good," you lie, "Now I have a lot of homework to finish and also a big project due on monday. The weekend will help me to get everything done and delivered on time."
That's what you assure him even though this whole week you had worn yourself out getting everything ahead of schedule for next week so you could go to the ball and have fun without any more worries.
"Are you..." He looks at you suspiciously, "Are you sure?"
"Very," you say, putting on a small fake smile, "Now I just want to rest before I do everything."
He watches you for a few seconds with the softest and gentlest expression possible, still a little worried, while you watch him firmly back to show him that it's okay.
Even though it hurts like hell all this is happening.
"Well," he murmurs, looking away from you, nodding slightly, "Would you like me to make some dinner for the two of us? I can...
"No thanks," you cut him off, "I want to sleep, that's all."
And finally, carrying all your dignity with you, you head to your room, pretending that everything is fine and that you are fine.
But as you close the door to your room behind you, that's when all the appearance finally goes away and you allow yourself to really feel the way you feel.
And it makes it worse to see the beautiful dress on your bed, looking so spectacular, so ready to be worn, when you will no longer need it for the main occasion you decided to buy it and wanted to wear it for so badly.
Looking at it with longing and sadness, the first tears fall down your cheeks and you avoid letting out a sob as you bite your lips.
You would have preferred that Aemond told you about taking his girlfriend that day when you went to get the dress and then he came home with his new haircut. It would have been more preferable to telling you the day before the ball.
Either way, though, you know it would have destroyed you, just the same way you feel destroyed now.
That's why the next morning, you don't even leave your room. You don't want to and can't see Aemond knowing that today is the day it was supposed to be the two of you.
So you only leave your room when you make sure Aemond is in his room to grab something from the fridge and get back to your cave as quickly as possible.
Until the time of the ball gets closer and closer and you make sure your desk is full of sheets of your previous projects, pretending to be busy as you had told Aemond you would be.
Even his sister, Helaena, sends you an excited message asking if you will come tonight and with all the pain in your heart, you reply that you will not be able to come as you are too busy with homework and projects.
When Aemond knocks on your bedroom door and calls you from the other side. You quickly go to your desk, pretend to be busy with the sheets, tell him to come in and he does.
"I'm leaving now, pretty one."
"Okay, have fun," you say in the best possible tone, without looking at him.
You really don't want to look at him.
"I will probably come here to sleep, I don't think I'll stay anywhere else, just to let you know," he says in a soft and cautious tone, still a little worried about yesterday.
"Yeah, that's fine."
A few seconds of silence and then you hear him let out a sigh.
"Are you sure you don't want to come? You know Helaena and my brothers will be there. I can wait for you to leave."
You bite the inside of your cheek, annoyed that he's suggesting this again, when you shouldn't be.
You know he means well, but it bothers you, it hurts you. How does he think you'll want to go to the ball after changing your plans?
"I have a lot to do," you answer briefly.
And again you hear another one of his sighs.
"Okay," he murmurs.
But he doesn't leave immediately, you hear how he is still at your door and you feel his penetrating gaze, as if he is asking you for forgiveness, but you don't even look at him.
You can't and you don't want to.
You think that if he tries to talk about it again, you'll tell him how busy you are so he won't do it.
But fortunately you only hear him let out a long breath and finally close the door to your room. And the next thing you hear are his footsteps and then the apartment door opening and closing.
The next few days after what happened between you and Aemond at the ball are again like you didn't want them to be.
But it seems that the ball was an important point that broke between you and Aemond and again he and you don't spend time together anymore. It's only in the mornings when you both see each other for breakfast, but there isn't even a conversation for the time being.
There are no more movie weekends, no more going to a restaurant for breakfast on some weekends, and no more going to the grocery store together.
However, the agreement remains that he takes care of everything financially and you take care of the food, laundry and cleaning.
Still, it's as if you live alone.
Suddenly Aemond stopped coming to the apartment less and less, as well as he has stopped sleeping here constantly anymore.
Sometimes there are not even any more of his clothes to wash, mostly because they are still clean or because he takes them away or has left them somewhere else, with Alys obviously.
All the food is finished by you since he barely eats breakfast or dinner here. And the few times you've gotten to talk, there's been no mention of the ball at all.
And you can tell, as he also shows, that he seems to be very busy with his classes and also with his girlfriend.
He still pay for the electricity, water and everything you need, you know he does, but he's not even here. Now it's like you totally take care of Vhagar, which you don't complain about, but she's supposed to be his dog because you gave her to him.
And even though things are tense between you, you still can't help but feel sad and lonely every time you realize that he didn't even get to sleep and on weekends you're all alone.
Whenever you text him asking where he is or why he didn't get to sleep, he always replies the same thing: Alys. He apologizes for not telling you but still never tells you.
Now you sleep in the apartment all alone, with only Vhagar's company every day. And even though it hurt you a lot about the ball, you still miss your best friend very much.
You missed him the most especially when a nasty storm hit King's Landing at night and lasted all morning until six o'clock.
You hate storms and Aemond also knows that you are afraid of them.
That night you couldn't sleep at all, you were curled up hiding under your sheets, hugging Vhagar as your only comfort, hoping that everything would pass soon.
The next morning you couldn't go to class due to lack of sleep and Aemond didn't even show up at the apartment.
Until one night, saturday at one o'clock in the morning, you heard the sound of the door and his footsteps in the living room and kitchen.
And ready to talk to him about how you've been feeling these past few days, as well as the fact that you practically live here alone, you head out of your room.
But you stop just as you open a crack in your door when you hear and realize that he is not alone.
"We should have arrived at my house, Aemond."
"We talked about this, Alys."
"But she's always here. I don't understand why she never goes out with friends or anything."
"I told you she's not that type."
You could have closed the door and gone to sleep with the idea of talking about what you had in mind with him another day, but you stay still when you hear that they are talking about you.
And what Alys says next only makes you stand stiller and listen more attentively.
"Oh my love... Are you still worried about her?"
You sharpen your ear more, attentive and confused.
Worried about me?
You repeat in your mind not understanding, willing to listen more, even though you shouldn't but still you do.
"I'm not worried. I'm just thinking about her."
"You are worried, Aemond," Alys repeats in affirmation and in a serious tone, "What I don't understand is why if the ball was two weeks ago."
"I know," you hear him mutter, "But still, you should have seen her face... she already had everything ready and I told her a day before that I wouldn't take her with me."
"But she told you it was okay, didn't she?"
"Yeah, but..." sigh, "In a way it felt much worse that she understood."
Alys lets out a snort.
"Of course she must have understood, my love," she says obviously, "I'm your girlfriend, not her."
You press your lips together, thinking that it didn't even cross your mind that he was still thinking about the ball when he doesn't even see you and isn't even here.
You don't fully understand but you do have an idea that after the ball, maybe he needed to distance himself from you and that's why you haven't seen each other anymore and he doesn't come to the apartment.
Maybe he felt really bad about himself for killing your illusion of going to the ball together, like every year.
But if he feels so bad, then why did he do it?
You ask yourself with some bitterness.
Apparently Alys was more convincing to him and it's okay, she's his girlfriend, but he's just feeling bad after it's all over.
"You care a lot about her and it's ridiculous, Aemond. As ridiculous as it is that she lives here and doesn't give you a single penny."
And then again her words catch your attention more than ever and you continue listening attentively, with your face falling because of her words.
"Alys..." he calls out to her in a tired tone, "I already explained that to you."
"But even so," she insists with an absurd tone, "Won't she be ashamed? She's your best friend and she doesn't even think about helping you a little?"
"She does help me and you know it."
"I mean financially."
"Her parents send her what money they can for college. She buys food and also buys what she needs for her classes and other necessities."
"Oh, so not only she doesn't help you with money, but also her parents?"
"Alys–
"Hasn't she even thought about getting a job?"
"Yes, but I told her that it wasn't necessary, that she could help me with the domestic and I could help her with the money without charging her anything."
"Are you serious?"
"She's my best friend, Alys. I'm the one who convinced her to live with me because I wanted her to."
"No, Aemond. It wasn't because you wanted to. It was because you pity her."
Your heart skips a beat and you open your lips and listen in surprise, beginning to feel that sharp pain in your chest as it hurts to hear those words.
"No," he says firmly, "It's never been like that."
"Oh please, don't fool yourself," she insists, "Y/N is not like you and me...her family has no money and from what you've told me, she's always been on scholarship in everything."
"Not everyone can have what we have, Alys," he says incredulously, "Besides, why would I care if she has money or not? Other people like us are really distasteful and don't have even a shred of humility, sincerity and trustworthiness like she has."
"I don't see it that way. I think she's so different and you feel so sorry for her that you've made it easy for her by putting her in an apartment like this because you know she and her family don't have the resources."
"That's what you think. But she and I both know that's not true."
He says with a confident tone and yes, it is true.
Alys at this moment made you doubt, a lot, because of the venom he was spitting out every word and for speaking so confidently about how he really feels about you.
But you never felt that Aemond treated you, since their friendship began, with pity.
Never.
"She has always been there for me and never with the intention of taking advantage of me for what I have. Not for nothing is she my best friend and you know how selective I am with my friends."
You hear the long sigh she lets out, to which you must think she has an irritated face.
"Well, if you say so," she says bitterly, "Still, isn't it annoying that she's always here? She doesn't go out to parties, she has no friends but you, and whenever we come here we can't even have the privacy we'd like because she's locked in her room."
"This is her house too."
"She's not a child anymore, Aemond. You should tell her to get a job and an apartment of her own or live in the dorm now. Tell her you want your own space now."
"It's not even a year since we've been living together, Alys."
"So, if I tell you in one more year that we want us to live together, will she live with both of us too?
"Of course not."
He answers instantly in an absurd low tone and again you feel your heart break at his words because of how quickly he answered and in what tone.
And you can't blame him, those are plans with his girlfriend, you have nothing to do there. But you can't help it and it really hurts because you will never be her.
"Look... I admit that I do wish I could have more privacy and also that she would go out to have fun and meet new people... I even want to get here with you and she's not here."
You feel the tears start to form in your eyes, but you bite your lips and control yourself.
"But I can't just tell her that I want to live alone now and give her to understand that I want her to leave. And I really don't want her to leave, not like this," he say honestly, "Not when things are still tense between us," he sighs, "She's my best friend and I love her. I don't want to hurt her anymore. I really want to make things right with her."
And as if everything Aemond had just said wasn't relevant to Alys, she says the following with every intention of it actually happening someday soon.
"What if the two of us go live together somewhere else?"
And the few seconds of silence afterwards on Aemond's part you know is from his confusion.
"Hm?"
"If you don't want to hurt her, fine, let her keep living here so you can feel good about yourself by continuing to help her."
You frown, really hating and feeling annoyed with his girlfriend's words.
"Then we can look for another apartment to live together," she proposes and you feel your heart shrink, "It doesn't have to be now, but later, but really do it, what do you think?"
You don't hear anything again for a few seconds, wanting to hear Aemond's answer while your heart beats hard against your chest.
"Alys–
"Please, baby. I want to live with you. I want to do many things with you."
And in that moment you know it's enough as you hear them start kissing and you finally, carefully, close the door and lie back down on your bed, holding back the tears.
Not wanting to hear anything promising out there, you put on your headphones and try to sleep with this ugly pain in your chest.
You shouldn't have listened to that conversation between the two of them, but you couldn't help it. But after listening to them, staring for a few moments at the ceiling of your room, broken, you make the decision you had thought about before but were not sure about.
And that is that you will fulfill Alys' wish... you are going to look for a job and you are going to ask for a doorm in the residence.
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The following days after hearing Aemond's conversation with his girlfriend, continue the same.
Aemond still doesn't show up much at the apartment, the two of you don't talk much, he is always with Alys and you start looking for jobs near the university without success.
When you don't find anything, the days of searching get longer because the ones that are available are far away from your area and others don't apply for you because they ask for experience.
And at the same time you try not to let everything you heard that night affect you by keeping busy with college.
You also try not to let it affect you that Aemond said he wanted to make things right between you but he still doesn't see you and doesn't show up because he's with Alys.
You really don't understand.
That's why you continue to look for a job as it hurts you that you are practically living alone in a big apartment like this when before it wasn't like this and you enjoyed Aemond's company.
Now it's just you and Vhagar.
Then one afternoon when you come home from school and finish feeding Vhagar and start preparing food for yourself, suddenly the door opens and Aemond enters with a soft look, instantly observing you.
"Hello, pretty one."
You try not to look surprised and confused by his arrival, so you just don't let his nickname affect you and smile a little, just a little, in his direction.
"Hi."
He smiles a little more at you as his gaze turns to Vhagar who runs excitedly to greet him.
"Hello to you too my little one," he says tenderly and you see how he takes her in his arms, "I missed you."
You look away from him to continue cooking, not wanting to talk and preferring to ignore him in the same way he seems to ignore you by not showing up or sleeping here anymore, leaving you and Vhagar alone.
You want to know why he has suddenly appeared, but you control yourself from asking. Just as you tell yourself that you don't plan to say anything to him about moving into the dorm until you secure a job.
"What are you cooking?"
You hear him ask you as he approaches you.
"Fillet," you reply briefly.
"Do you mind if I ask you to cook one for me?" He asks with some care.
"No," you answer simply.
You really don't want to be rude to him, after all, this is your agreement, so you cook a fillet for him, waiting to serve everything.
"Do you have something to do today?"
He asks you suddenly and you continue cooking, without looking at him.
"Homework," you answer, "Why?"
"Ah... some classmates are coming to prepare an presentation we have tomorrow," he lets you know and you finally turn to look at him, "I hope you don't mind."
"No, it's fine," you assure him, turning your back on him again, "I'll be in my room, you know."
"Of course."
Quiet.
You continue cooking and he seems to be waiting for his food, so you don't say anything, mostly because you don't have anything to say.
You feel his gaze on you at almost all times, which you deliberately ignore, trying not to make a big deal of it.
When you start serving and finally turn your face to him to place the plates and also the glasses, feeling more firmly his gaze on you.
"Y/N...
And as soon as he says your name you knew he wasn't watching you silently for nothing, but because he was fighting himself to talk to you about something that had him in doubt.
"I know I haven't been around much..." he starts to say and you avoid letting out a sigh of irritation, "And I also know that I've left you alone with Vhagar—
"Yes, I know," you interrupt him in a nonchalant tone, "And that's okay, you have things to do and honestly so do I, believe it or not," you say quickly and then open the refrigerator, "Do you want soda or juice?"
Your clear disinterest for not wanting to talk about it makes Aemond stop talking and watch you in silence, feeling a little guilty for your attitude.
But you continue to watch him expectantly for an answer and he gives it to you after a few seconds of silence.
"Soda."
You nod and start filling the glasses. And at that, Aemond doesn't insist on the matter and simply remains silent, waiting for you to start eating together.
But he can't be like this anymore. He really wants to make things right and that's why he mentions the next:
"Don't think I forgot your birthday."
He says in an attempt to finally calm the tension between the two of you as you turn and hand him the glass and then take a seat in front of him.
"You don't?" you say almost sarcastically, almost.
"Of course not," she assures you, "It's this Friday. Aren't you excited?"
"Not really," you say honestly, "I have a project due that friday that has been causing me a lot of stress. I don't want to get a grade that isn't worth all the effort."
"Oh come on, you always get the best grades," he says with a small smile, "Don't worry, you'll see, everything will be fine."
And the next thing he does is to place his hand on top of yours to give it a gentle squeeze as he always used to do before in situations like these, just like you do with him.
At this, you try not to fall for him and his gestures, so you just nod thanking him with your eyes for his support and start eating, just like him.
"And what are your plans? Tell me," he asks you interested.
"Mmm..." You grimace, "In the morning I don't have much planned, just to talk to my parents," you confess, "After class my friends said they wanted to take me to a restaurant and at night to go out partying but... I'm still not sure about that."
"About what?"
"The party."
He takes a sip of his soda and looks at you confidently.
"Let's go."
"Where to?"
"The party."
"You want to go?" you frown.
"Of course I do," he says with a smile, "I want to celebrate and have fun with you on your birthday."
You raise your eyebrows expectantly at him.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, come on, I'll take you," he says more confidently than before, "In fact, since you won't be doing much in the morning, I could buy a cake for both of us, give you your present and I don't know, go out or watch a movie," he proposes, "Just me and you. Then I'll see you in the night and we'll go out and party."
So, for all that confidence in talking, even with that determination and that excitement in talking about making plans together on your birthday... you shouldn't but again you feel that hope come back to you.
That same spark and hope when he told you about the ball and in the end he did the complete opposite of what he promised you.
But this time... they are both talking about your birthday. You know and you know that he knows you're not just talking about anything.
That's why you stop feeling that little bitterness and forget about the conversation you overheard, you also stop considering going to live in the dorm because he just gives you hope.
"What do you say? Do you like the plan?" he observes you with a little excited smile.
And without being able to help it, you also smile softly in his direction, feeling how that emptiness in your chest fills up, leaving you feeling alone and ignored.
So you nod your head, avoiding showing too much of your happiness and illusion.
"Perfect."
And after you both finish eating, before his classmates arrive, you both make yourselves comfortable on the couches and talk about almost everything while Vhagar keeps you company.
And because of this, you feel more of that hope, that companionship that you had needed so much from him and finally everything is okay.
Everything feels okay.
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All the following days, both Aemond and you go back to the old routine where you don't see each other as much and don't talk much.
But at least there is that feeling that between you everything is already fine and there are plans in place for the weekend that you couldn't be more excited and anxious about.
You've already planned everything with your friends as well, so it's sure to be a perfect day.
Until finally friday arrives and you expect to wake up to Aemond making a big fuss with that happy birthday children's song.
However, it doesn't.
You wake up to a chill in your room and also in the whole apartment when you realize that Aemond is not here. You check to see if he has left you a note or a text but nothing.
Instantly you think to yourself that he must be getting that cake he promised you, so you take a shower and get ready for the day.
Then you get congratulations from your friends and other family members. You even talk to your parents who are in your little town, Stone Hedge, in the Riverlands, working hard to support your studies.
And then when you finish getting ready, Aemond still doesn't show up, so you call him but he doesn't answer, you also send him messages but nothing.
[You]: I'll be waiting for you until 12PM. I have my class at 1PM.
And you send the message, wishing and hoping he'll be here soon.
Until the hours go by, he still doesn't answer, doesn't even return your calls, doesn't tell you anything and there definitely comes a time when you can't wait for him anymore.
And you control yourself. You don't want to think anything bad. You tell yourself that maybe something important came up at school.
So you stay positive, tell yourself that he will explain when you see him tonight, and leave the apartment to go to the university.
The moment you walk into your classroom, your friends greet you with big hugs, flowers and helium balloons wishing you happy birthday, which definitely lifts your mood.
And even more so when you turn in the most stressful project you've done so far in your entire career and with all the happiness and excitement in the world you see how you get graded with an A+.
And your friends are quick to say that it's all the more reason to celebrate tonight.
When the class is over, along with Aileen, Sara, Ryan and Ryan's friend James, you head to the restaurant they told you they wanted to take you to.
There they all order a bottle of wine and toast to your birthday and also to their good grades in this final project they handed in. Even the restaurant's employees bring you a small cake and together they sing happy birthday to you, feeling very nice.
Although unconsciously, you keep thinking about Aemond.
From time to time you check your phone to see if there are any answers from him yet, but nothing. So you really try not to think about him too much and fortunately, with the help of your friends, you succeed.
Until it starts to get dark and everyone says they should get ready to go to one of the many fraternity parties.
Ryan takes you with James to your house and expecting to see Aemond at the apartment, you arrive and no one is there except Vhagar.
You let out a long breath and call him one more time but nothing, so not to be late you get ready for the party.
You're hopeful that Aemond will eventually arrive, but even when you finish getting ready, nothing. And you know he won't show up or he would have already.
But there is still a little hope.
You think, confident and positive, because it is your birthday.
You ask Sara to pick you up and soon you are both arriving at the party where you meet your other friends who have also brought friends.
"What about your best friend, is he coming?"
Aileen asks you over the music and you, still wanting to feel confident, nod.
"Yeah, he might be a little late."
She nods and takes you to the kitchen to play with the other party games before everything here becomes a mess with so many people and louder music.
And you get distracted for a moment as you start to play and have some fun with the games.
You realize that you're actually having a great time despite Aemond's absence, but you still want to see him since it's your birthday.
That's why after a few hours have passed, the party is getting more crowded and everyone is starting to drink more, you check your phone and there's still nothing from him.
You turn away from everyone for a moment to call him but he doesn't answer. You look at the time and realize that it will be eleven o'clock at night and feeling a little worried now, you send him more messages.
[You]: where are you?
[You]: i have been trying to talk to you all day.
[You]: will you at least come to the party?
Nothing.
You let out a long, disappointed breath, yet you tell yourself that he couldn't have forgotten about your birthday, he just didn't.
He made the plans, he promised you a fun day, he said you two would be together.
But then... where is he?
As you walk back to the house, across the entire backyard, you finally feel your phone vibrate several times and you stop to turn the screen back on again, hopeful.
However... you wish you had not.
[aem❣]: sorry for not responding, I was busy all day with alys and we just finished having dinner with her parents.
[aem❣]: party?
And that's all he tells you.
So surprised and incredulous, somehow already expecting it since he didn't show up in the morning you think it can't be.
You can't really believe it and you wish you were so wrong but... it's the truth.
He forgot your birthday.
Your best friend really has forgotten your fucking birthday.
He doesn't tell you anymore, he doesn't say happy birthday, he doesn't apologize for his absence on your birthday, he just doesn't tell you anything.
He just asks you that, with that question being reason enough to give you to understand that he has forgotten the whole plan and your birthday.
And you don't cry.
You really don't want to cry. He doesn't deserve it.
So you avoid breaking down at that moment and just put your phone on silent to put it in your little bag, holding back the tears and enduring this huge sharp pain in your chest.
When that's when you decide you've had enough.
It's still eleven o'clock, you have one more hour to enjoy your birthday, then you'll have fun for the rest of the party and tomorrow you'll have time to feel bad about what your so-called best friend has done to you.
But this is not going to ruin what's left of your birthday.
So you suppress everything, mentally prepare yourself and go back to the party more confident and determined than ever to have fun with your friends who are here.
And that's what you do.
But after this, enough will definitely be enough.
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taglist:
@hey-lucille @queenofshinigamis @winxschester @xcinnamonmalfoyx @ladymarg0t @yazzzmints @namoreno @wintrr13 @fan-goddess
1K notes · View notes
chiiyuuvv · 6 months
Note
can you do bestfriends!riize who has a crush on you reacting to you calling them babe or baby? thank you and anyway i love your works!! it's so well written :]]
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• PAIRING — bestie!riize x fem!reader
• GENRE — their a little slow.. fluff, my attempt at humor, honestly shit
• WORD COUNT — 462
• AUTHOR'S NOTE — sorry for not posting a bunch ive been working on some other stuff
• TAGLIST — @moonlightdarlings , @cake1box , @babigriin , @soul-is-a-strange-kid
MASTERLIST! – JOIN THE TAGLIST!
SHOTARO ☆
You had called him babe in of the members
Shotaros face red and his jaw dropped, along with the members looking around like, "their dating and their keeping it a secret?? 🤨"
Hes stuttering so much, someone help him.
Theres this stupid smile on his face and laughs bubbling out of him and hes staring at you with hearts in his eyes, hes so in love damn 😞
Definitely pulls you to the side, saying smth like "what are we??? :DD" praying on the inside you say "your girlfriend" ♡
EUNSEOK ☆
yes, you called him babe. Wait what????
"What?" Blinking at you repeatedly. give him a second hes malfunctioning
Lets out this smile that gives you the shivers, trying to calm down his racing heart
"No, youre just joking. Funny, actually."
Almost kisses you when you say you arent ♡
SUNGCHAN ☆
Goes along with it
"Yes im her babe whatcha gonna do huh?? 😡"
Drops down to his knees to kiss the back of your hand
What a damn minute..
YOU CALLED HIM BABE YOU CALLED HIM BABE YOU CALLED HIM BABE ♡
WONBIN ☆
Tries to laugh it off
Youre obviouslyyyyyyyyyy joking. He doesnt like the joke but he'll just accept it anyways
Theres noooooooooo way you like him too
So what if youre stroking his red cheek with this pretty, soft smile on your face and hes smiling back, feeling like he could fall in love all over again?????
Shoot- hes leaning it. Wait, what.. you are too???? ♡
SEUNGHAN ☆
Hes so gigglyyyyyy gosh
Wants you to say it again so he can let out a series of giggles, his face burning red as he hides it in your neck
Doesnt find your joke funny even though hes laughing his heart out :<
Looks up at you with hearts in his eyes. he wants to kiss you
He wants to make you his, call him baby forever. Will you let him? ♡
SOHEE ☆
Feel like he wouldnt notice at first, until someone like shotaro would have to slap some sense into him
"What, she just called me baby beca- OH MY GODDDDDDDDD"
feel like he would sing "love is an open door" idk why
Your words were like an energy drink, a gallon of sugar.. sugar rush rush sugar rush rush ahh????
But gets so shy when he sees you the next day ♡
ANTON ☆
Hes gone. Hes dead. Hes jumping of a bridge
Reminds me of that kermit the frog meme, the one where it falls of a building with its arms out all happily and such
Will not take his eyes off of you because what. Did. You. Just. Say????
Hes screaming, crawling up the walls on the inside (source: trust me)
Will dream about this the next 25 business days plus weekends thank you very much ♡
490 notes · View notes
cxptain-capsicle · 4 months
Text
Beyond the Sea | Luke Castellan | II
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Pairing: Luke Castellan x Unclaimed Poseidon Daughter!Reader
Warnings: angst, fluff, slow burn flashbacks, established relationship present day, Gods being terrible parents
A/N: If you are new around here I love taking suggestions and incorporating your guy's ideas and headcannons in my series so feel free to leave thoughts in my inbox!
Series Masterlist Taglist
“So all of the major 12 gods have their own cabin where their children live. Children from one cabin can’t go into another god's cabin.” Luke explained as he walked you down the aisle of houses. “This one is ours.”
“Ours?” You raised your eyebrow questionably.
“All the new arrivals stay here, in the Hermes cabin.” Luke gestured towards a cabin that was much larger than all of the others. It wasn’t nearly as elegant as the ones around it but it felt warm and welcoming. It looked like a simple log cabin with a large front porch held by tall log columns. On the front of the house was a large green banner with a Greek symbol in the center. Over the door a semi-circle stained glass window that reminded you of the ones in the Big House. The cabin looked a little run down but that wasn’t shocking considering the amount of kids running around inside. Walking inside felt like entering a circus tent. There was yelling, laughing, singing, kids running around, hanging upside down from bunk beds. Even with the chaos it still felt cozy. The inside was dimly lantern lit, the walls were paneled with dark wood, in the center was a large fire pit that made the whole room feel like a warm hug. You followed Luke further into the cabin as several heads turned to look at the new arrival.  
“Here,” Luke said as he led you to a bed and dropped the few things that you had on the bed. “This one was mine, now it’s yours.” 
“You’re giving me your bed?” 
“Yeah, why not?” He shrugged. “I’ll move to the top bunk, it’ll be nice to have a change.” He was humble. He was willing to give you one of the only things that was his and he didn’t want any praise for it.
“Thank you.” You meant it, and you didn’t know what else to say.
“Everyone!” Chiron announced as he trotted into the cabin doors. “Your attention, please. This is Percy Jackson. I trust you will see to whatever he needs.” Everyone stared at the sandy-haired boy awkwardly. Everyone in the Hermes cabin was used to this by now. New kid comes in, new kid gets claimed, new kid leaves, and the cycle continues. Within seconds everyone went back to their conversations although many of those conversations now included the word: Minotaur.
You and Luke glanced at each other unsure if you should say anything to the boy. 
“He shouldn’t be alone.” You whispered to him. “Grover said the Minotaur killed his mom.” 
You followed Luke as he made his way to the boy, who sat up quickly when we approached.
“Look, if you want to give me a hard time, just do it tomorrow.” He said before either Luke or you could get a word out. “I can't do any more today.” 
“Heard what happened to you on the hill.” Luke said slowly, arms crossed over his chest. “And I just... wanted to say I'm really sorry.” 
“I know what you're going through.” You chimed in. “Believe me, I really do.”
“I'm Luke.” He reached out to shake the boy's hand.
“Percy.” He hesitantly grabbed Luke’s hand.
“Y/n.” You couldn’t help but smile at him. He reminded you so much of yourself when you first came to camp so many years ago.
“Rise and shine!” Luke’s voice boomed above you. You groaned and turned away from him in an attempt at protest.
“Five more minutes.” Luke chuckled at your words but he didn’t take it for an answer.
“C’mon.” He ripped the blanket off of the bed. “First day at camp, gotta make it count.”
“Luke!” You shouted, the cold air shocking your body. “Do you make it a habit to torture the new campers?” You groaned as you rolled out of bed and began to put your shoes on. Luke was already geared up and ready to go, twitching with excitement.
“Only the ones who make it easy.” He smirked. 
“Screw you.” You reached to grab your pillow and threw it at his face. It caught him by surprise causing him to stumble back, making both of you laugh.
“Maybe you’re an Ares kid?” He faked injury dramatically. “We’ll find out today.”
“What?” That piqued your interest. Ever since you arrived at camp yesterday you couldn’t stop thinking about getting claimed.
“We’re gonna figure out what you’re good at. Maybe that’ll help us figure out who your parent is.” Luke explained.
“Where do we start?” You stood up with excitement.
“Breakfast.” 
The two of you made your way to the mess hall, it was much more crowded this morning than it was the previous day. Each of the tables were nearly full with kids chatting over breakfast. 
“So what’s your story?” You asked Luke as you sat down with your breakfast.
“What do you mean?” He chuckled slightly.
“Your story.” You repeated. “How’d you get here?”
“Well,” He sighed. “I’ve been here for 3 summers.” He pulled at the necklace around his neck with three colored beads strung on the brown cord. “I came here with Annabeth, an Athena kid.”
He gestured over to a girl a few years younger than you sitting at the Athena table. “And Thalia, she uh- she didn’t make it.”
“Oh,” Your voice trailed off. “I’m sorry Luke.” 
“Thalia died getting us to camp safely.” He continued. “She died a hero.” An uncomfortable silence fell over the table. “Then I got here, got claimed by Hermes.” Even mentioning his father seemed to send chills down his back.
“What happens if I don’t get claimed?” The thought had crossed your mind more than a few times.
“Well,” Luke shifted in his seat. “It doesn’t happen too often but, you’d stay in the Hermes cabin. That’s where all the unclaimed kids stay.”
“Well if that’s the case, I’ll need to move beds because you snored above me all night.” You teased.
“Oh no way I’ll just follow you wherever you go.” He said as he took a big bite of his breakfast. “So who are we looking for, a mom or a dad?”
“I’m not sure.” You said through a bit of toast. “I was left at a firehouse as a baby so I have no idea who my mortal parent is either.”
“So where did you live?” Luke leaned onto his elbow on the table in interest.
“Foster families, group homes, things like that.” You explained. “Until monsters would trash them and I’d get blamed for it and get moved.”
“Well, we can’t rule out any god but we’ll start out with the olympians. We’ve got a lot of work to do,”
After breakfast Luke led you all around camp. He took you to Arts and Crafts and sat you down at an empty sheet of canvas and easel with a bowl of miscellaneous fruit in front of it. Luke went around to the front of  the easel and knocked the bowl onto the floor.
“I have a better subject for your painting.” He stood in front of you, placed his hands on his hips and looked to the side triumphantly. The pose of a hero. You laughed at him and did your best to capture him on the canvas. You tried to take your time but Luke quickly started complaining that his arms were hurting and urged you to hurry. The top half of the painting was pretty good, you could tell it was Luke, you even captured his smug smirk which made you smile. As you went down the painting got more rushed and sloppy but you blamed Luke for that.
“Tada.” You said enthusiastically as you took the canvas off the easel and turned it around to show him. He came up quickly to grab it.
“You didn’t fully capture my good looks, but other than that it’s pretty good.” He shrugged and you laughed and smacked his shoulder with a paintbrush. “So maybe an Apollo kid.” He took the canvas from you and rolled it up, saving it for later in his bag.
Luke continued to lead you around camp trying everything he could think of. He took you to the forge and quickly decided you were likely not a Hephaestus kid after you struggled to even make a dent in the hot metal. He took you to the archery range and despite never holding a bow before, you weren’t too bad. Artemis could be a maybe. He took you to a little training obstacle course by the arena designed to test speed and agility. You did your best but got hit by multiple bags of sand that were built to resemble flying harpies. So Hermes is a no. “Well, we’re definitely not siblings.” Luke laughed as you got hit by a sandbag that toppled you over. For whatever reason that felt very relieving to you. He took you to the strawberry fields where you propagated a few berries. Possibly Demeter. Finally Luke wanted to test your swordsmanship. You were excited for this. Only being here a day and a half you had already heard of Luke’s skills with a sword. Having been on the run from monsters basically your whole life you had gotten pretty good at fighting,
“We’ll get some swords and go to the woods to practice.” Luke told you on the way to the armory.
“Why are we going to the woods?” You questioned.
“So I don’t embarrass you in front of everyone when I beat you.” He smiled widely.
“I hate you-” You laughed but were cut off by someone yelling from up the hill.
“New girl!” Another girl shouted. As you kept walking closer she became easier to see. She was dressed in full greek armor and wore a helmet with a bright red crest. When she took off the helmet her dark curly hair slipped out and gave you a better look at her face.
“Her name is Y/n,” You swore Luke was scowling. “Play nice.”
“Am I not allowed to meet the girl we almost died trying to find?” She faked offense. 
“You were in the cave.” You remembered. “You thought I was dead.” 
“You looked dead.” She shrugged. “So what are you two doing out here?”“Y/n’s gonna try her hand at some combat.” Luke explained.
“Perfect.” Clarisse said menacingly. She grabbed a chestplate off the rack and held it out to you. “I’ll take the first round.”
“Clarisse, I don’t think-” Luke started but you cut him off.
“Let’s do it.” You eagerly took the chestplate and a sword off of the wall. Something about Clarisse invigorated you. Luke looked at you wearily but figured he was quick enough to stop Clarisse before she killed you. You and Clarisse were stationed about 6 feet away from each other, you armed with a sword and her with a spear. Before you even realized you’d begun she stormed forward, her spear pointed towards you. You took a step to the side to avoid being impaled and she quickly redirected the tip of her spear to follow you but you went under the head of the spear with your sword blade, sending the tip of her spear towards the sky. You took a swipe at her with your sword but she quickly deflected. While you were recovering from your failed attack she slashed the head of her spear down. You stepped back to avoid the spear hitting your face but the tip of the spearhead tore into your shoulder causing you to whine in pain.
“Y/n!” Luke cried out and he began to run to your side but you held out your hand telling him to stop. Your face flushed hot with anger. You weren’t mad at Clarisse, it was a fight and people get hurt. You had always been easy to set off especially in competition. 
“It’s just a cut,” You stared Clarisse down. “Let’s keep going.”
“I like this girl.” She laughed before rushing forward again with a giddy smile before taking a stab at you. You took one hand off of your sword and grabbed the shaft of the spear as tightly as you could. She pulled and pulled but couldn’t get the spear free from your grasp. You picked your foot up and landed a hard kick in her stomach sending both of you flying backwards. Despite your best efforts you lost grip on your sword but went down with the spear. You both stumbled to your feet and when you did were both met with a blade under your chins. You with her spear and her with your sword. A draw. She laughed and lowered the sword and you did the same.
“Good to know we didn’t risk our lives for someone completely useless.” You thought that was a compliment coming from Clarisse.
“Let me see your arm.” Luke panicked as he rushed over to you. He grabbed your arm and began examining the cut on your shoulder. The cloth of your Camp Half-Blood was torn and the gash was bleeding much more than you had realized. “Let’s get you to the big house.”
The entire walk to the big house Luke muttered under his breath how it was so stupid to fight Clarisse and it wasn’t until after a few of the Apollo kids treated your wound he admitted that he was impressed. Saying that of course you still couldn’t compare to his sword skills.
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