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ijustmissyouraccenths · 5 hours

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Love Story

Colette is an up and coming actor, Harry is an international popstar who fell in love with cinema. When the pair work on a rendition of Romeo and Juliet, their worlds collide as feelings develop.

CW: Brief mention of dying, Smut.

Word Count: 11,860

Colette stepped into her dressing room, a lavishly appointed space designed to echo the opulence of the Verona in which her film "Romeo and Juliet" was set. The walls were draped in deep burgundy velvet curtains, softening the room with a rich, warm texture that whispered of hidden secrets and dramatic declarations. Golden accents framed mirrors and furniture, reflecting the flickering light from several ornately carved silver candelabras positioned thoughtfully around the room.

As she entered, her eyes were drawn to the vanity, an exquisite piece of craftsmanship with an expansive mirror bordered by tiny bulbs that bathed the area in a gentle, flattering light. Upon the surface lay an array of cosmetics and brushes, each laid out with precision, their handles catching glints of light like miniature scepters waiting to bestow their magic upon her.

The air was filled with a subtle scent of roses and myrrh, creating an atmosphere that was both calming and invigorating, as if the very essence of romance and tragedy had been captured and dispersed through the room. A large window draped with heavy curtains looked out upon a secluded garden that boasted marble statues peeking through lush greenery—Juliet's own secret sanctuary.

Colette’s costume hung on a dress form; it was a stunning creation of silk and lace, the fabric dyed in shades of moonlight and adorned with delicate embroidery that mimicked the intricate patterns of an Italian tapestry. The bodice was fitted, designed to accentuate her figure while allowing for the dramatic movements required in her scenes.

Next to the dress stood a pair of custom-made shoes, their leather soft and supple, seeming almost alive, like they were molded from a piece of night itself. They were embellished with small pearls and crystals, which twinkled like stars against the shadowy backdrop.

On a small table beside her plush, velvet-covered chaise lounge lay her script, its pages worn from use yet handled with reverence. It was flanked by a quill and an inkpot—an affectation provided by the director to inspire connection to the era they were emulating—as well as a delicate teacup painted with scenes from Shakespeare’s works.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself amidst this feast for senses—a real-life canvas painted with details fit for royalty—Colette prepared mentally to step once again into Juliet's world: one where love defied reason and every corner held both beauty and sorrow. She sat at her vanity, poised to transform under the artful hands of her makeup artist, ready to breathe life into Shakespeare's timeless lover once more.

The door to her dressing room opened with a soft creak, heralding the arrival of Madame Laurette, the makeup artist whose skills transformed actresses into visions from another time. Clad in a smock splattered with the remnants of foundation and rouge from previous masterpieces, Madame Laurette carried an ancient-looking leather case, which she set down with a practiced grace next to Colette.

"Ah, my dear," Madame Laurette began, her voice a soothing melody, "today we paint the tragedy and triumph of young love upon your canvas." Her hands were deft as they opened the case, revealing rows upon rows of pots and brushes, pencils and palettes; tools of the trade laid out like a surgeon's instruments, each with a purpose to bring forth beauty from bareness.

With delicate fingers, Madame Laureette applied a light moisturizer to Colette's face, preparing the skin like a primed canvas. She then used a sponge to dab on foundation that matched Colette's complexion so perfectly it seemed as if it were but a whisper on her skin. As she worked, she spoke softly about the character of Juliet—her passion, her grace, her strength in the face of despair.

Next came the eyes—windows to Juliet's soul. Madame Laurette chose shades that reflected the hues of twilight; dusky purples and soft blues blended seamlessly to suggest a depth of emotion. The eyeliner was applied in a fine line, accentuating the shape of Colette's eyes, making them appear larger, more expressive. Lashes were curled and coated with mascara that made them flutter like the wings of a night moth.

Cheeks were next attended with a brush dusted in rose-pink blush that brought a gentle bloom to her porcelain skin, reminiscent of English roses in bloom. It was as if Juliet herself had paused in a garden, momentarily caught up in thoughts of her Romeo.

Lips were not forgotten—painted in a soft red that was bold yet not overwhelming—a color that whispered of promises and kissed by starlight. As Madame Laurette worked her magic, the transformation from actress to character was nearly complete.

Finally, Madame Laurette set everything with a light dusting of powder which seemed to pull forth an ethereal glow from within Colette herself. Standing back to admire her work, she nodded slightly as if granting approval to proceed with the act.

As Madame Laurette packed away her tools and bid her farewell with wishes of good luck, Colette took one last look at herself in the mirror. Now staring back was Juliet Capulet: tragic yet triumphant in her love—a young woman framed not only by curls dark as raven wings but also by an aura of timeless romance that would soon spill over onto the stage under countless watching stars.

Her movements were infused with an anticipatory grace that seemed woven from the very threads of the narratives she was set to embody. The costume assistant approached, a vision of focus and professionalism, carrying the garment that would complete the transformation: a dress that seemed spun from moonlight and gossamer dreams.

The dress itself was a masterpiece of historical accuracy blended with theatrical flair. Its fabric was a whisper-soft silk that flowed like water over Colette's form, pooling slightly at her feet in a shimmering cascade of sky-blue. Intricate embroidery adorned the bodice, featuring delicate vines and flowers meticulously stitched with silver thread, catching the light with every subtle movement and suggesting a lattice of morning dew. Sleeves of sheer chiffon draped elegantly from her shoulders, airy and almost translucent, giving her arms the appearance of being wrapped in wisps of cloud.

As she stepped into the dress, the assistant deftly laced up the back, pulling the strings tight enough to sculpt her waist without hindering breath—a crucial balance for any performer. The final touch was a delicate ribbon tied in a bow just below her collarbone, a nod to youthful innocence and burgeoning romance.

Once dressed, Colette floated towards the full-length mirror, her steps tentative yet poised as though she were both discovering and remembering Juliet’s haunted grace. Her reflection seemed to transcend time; here was Juliet not as mere fiction, but resurrected in flesh and blood and silk, her eyes alight with both excitement and a hint of sorrow for the tale she was to live anew.

Taking a deep breath that lifted her chest slightly against the soft confines of her dress, Colette turned away from her reflection—away from Juliet's temporary shelter—and made her way out of the dressing room. The corridor outside was lined with flickering candles encased in glass lanterns hanging from ornate metal stands, casting shadows that danced like shy phantoms on the walls.

As she walked, her dress whispered secrets only she could hear, each step a murmur of silk. Exiting the building, she stepped out into an expanse that felt less like part of a film set and more like stepping through a wrinkle in time into Verona itself. The set designers had outdone themselves; cobblestone streets wound beneath balconies overflowing with ivy and blooms. Lamps glowed softly along pathways and a distant fountain murmured in melodious tones.

Here under the vast expanse of an artificial twilight sky beginning to pin itself with stars, Colette paused at the center of an old square waiting for Harry's arrival. In this moment suspended between reality and fiction—where night air kissed her cheeks as sweetly as any lover might—she was neither Colette nor Juliet but something timeless; a whisper of love’s eternal reverie waiting to be awakened by Romeo’s pledge beneath soft-footed shadows.

Colette felt eborn into another age and another life—her heart beating rapidly with anticipation and empathy for her character’s imminent joys and sorrows. She moved towards the set where artificial stars awaited their nightly audience and real emotions would stir under painted skies.

Just as the anticipation in the air reached its peak, Harry emerged from the shadows, a figure pulled from the very pages of Shakespeare. His costume was a masterpiece of Elizabethan artistry—velvet doublet embroidered with intricate silver threads that caught the light with every subtle movement, making him shimmer like a star newly born into the night sky. His breeches were of a similar rich fabric, hugging his legs with a precision that spoke of many hours spent in the tailor’s care. Upon his feet were boots made of soft leather that whispered against the cobblestones as he moved.

His hair, usually untamed and wild, had been tamed into soft waves that framed his face, echoing the romantic heroes of old. Around his neck, a heavy chain with a cross pendant rested against his chest, gleaming softly in the lamplight. His eyes, when they met Colette's, sparkled with a mixture of excitement and nervous energy—the perfect echo of Romeo’s own youthful vibrance and passionate soul.

As Harry walked closer to where Colette stood, waiting in her character's eternal reverie, his presence seemed to draw the very essence of the night towards him. The distant murmur of the fountain seemed to harmonize with his every step, creating a melody that resonated with the quiet rustling of Colette’s gown. Each element of the scene—the glowing lamps along the pathways, the soft rustle of ivy against stone—seemed to lean towards him, as if nature itself was eager to hear the tale these two star-crossed lovers would enact.

The square they occupied breathed with an air of ancient romance; it was as though they had truly stepped back in time and were no longer actors on a set but living embodiments of their characters. The buildings surrounding them wore age like proud badges, their windows darkened save for the occasional flicker of candlelight that suggested life continuing unaware inside. Above them, the crescent moon cradled stars that had witnessed countless tales of love and tragedy.

Harry reached the center of the square, his boots clicking on the cobblestones with a rhythmic certainty. He stopped before Colette, who remained motionless, her gaze fixed upon him with an intensity that belied the serene expression on her face. Her costume—a flowing dress of midnight blue, embroidered with tiny silver threads—whispered tales of bygone elegance as it caught the breeze, fluttering lightly around her ankles.

Clearing his throat softly, Harry began to recite Romeo's lines with a tender fervor that seemed to pull at the very air around him. "But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun." His voice rose and fell in perfect cadence, each word a brushstroke painting emotions across the canvas of the night.

As he spoke, an unexpected gust of wind stirred the leaves around them into a gentle dance, mirroring the turmoil brewing in Romeo's heart as he gazed upon his forbidden love. The scent of rose and old stone mingled together, casting a spell over the scene that was palpable. The director, hidden in the shadows beyond the set's makeshift lights, allowed himself a small smile at the authenticity of this moment—cinema magic in its purest form.

Colette responded in kind, her voice carrying back to Harry with equal parts longing and restraint. "O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?" She stepped forward slightly, her hands clasped before her as if to steady her racing heart. Her eyes never left Harry's, and in them flickered the fire of Juliet's love—a burning, all-consuming flame that acknowledged neither reason nor consequence.

The crew around them had ceased all movement; even those seasoned in film felt themselves caught in the spellbinding performance unfolding before them. The prop master forgot his duties for a moment, lost in the authenticity of Colette's accent and the palpable connection between her and Harry.

Above them, clouds began to drift across the moon's face slowly veiling and unveiling the celestial glow. This natural play of light added a dramatic flair to the scene below—an unwitting collaboration between man and nature that highlighted this poignant moment of shared solitude between two lovers cursed by fate.

Every detail was perfect, the way the lamplight flickered as though trembling with anticipation; how a distant owl hooted right at Juliet’s tender confession; the subtle shift of fabric as Harry moved closer to Colette—contributed to an atmosphere thick with drama and history. Even those behind cameras or holding booms felt as if they were no longer just creating but witnessing something transcendent; a story retold yet forever new in its telling.

As Harry delivered Romeo’s pledge of undying love beneath Juliet's window conceived anew beneath towering oaks and ageless stone buildings, it was clear this was not merely a recitation but an act of truth.

The director, normally a stoic figure shadowed by the breadth of his responsibilities, allowed a rare smile to creep across his face as the final words lingered in the air, trembling like the leaves around them. His approach was silent, reverent almost, as if stepping into a sacred space that the actors had conjured with their spellbinding talent.

"Cut!" he called out, but the word was soft, filled more with awe than command. The silence that followed was profound, filled with the collective held breath of the crew before they erupted into spontaneous applause. The clapping rolled through the set like thunderous waves, each member expressing their unbridled admiration for what they had witnessed.

The director raised his hands, beckoning for quiet, his eyes gleaming with both pride and something akin to gratitude. "That," he said, his voice steady but imbued with emotion, "was nothing short of magnificent. Harry, Colette—I've seen many a scene in my years behind the camera, but what you both have delivered today transcends performance. It reaches into the core of what it means to be human; to love, to despair, to hope."

He walked over to the actors, who were still nestled in their characters' final embrace, slowly returning to themselves as they listened to his praises. "Colette," he continued, turning to her with a respectful nod. "Your Juliet is both vulnerable and fiery; you’ve given her a depth that breathes new life into Shakespeare’s lines. And Harry," he turned with equal admiration to the young actor whose eyes still held a glimmer of Romeo's passion. "You’ve played Romeo not just as a lover but as a warrior fighting against the inevitable tragedy of his fate. Exceptional work."

The surrounding buildings and trees seemed to absorb his words, casting longer shadows as if in agreement. The director then turned towards the crew members who had captured every nuanced moment on film. "And let’s not forget the incredible work of our crew—lighting, sound, props—this magic can’t happen without each piece falling perfectly into place."

He clapped his hands together once more, this time signaling an end rather than silence. "Alright folks, let’s pack up here—remember this feeling of accomplishment. We’ve got early scenes tomorrow and we need to bring this same energy."

As they disbanded gradually, whispers of praise continued amongst them like quiet ripples on a pond at dusk; everyone shared part of the triumph. Juliet’s balcony scene would be remembered not just for its beauty and tragedy but for its vivid realness that evening under the shrouded moonlight—an echo of love carried softly by the wind through the leaves of those ancient trees.

As the crew began to disperse, the air filled with the clatter of equipment being packed and the soft murmur of satisfied conversations. Harry and Colette slowly walked side by side toward the dressing rooms, their costumes slightly less pristine than they had been at the start of the day but still radiant under the fading sunlight. The path was lined with ancient oaks, their branches gnarled and stretched toward the sky like silent watchers of countless tales unfolding under their gaze.

Harry glanced at Colette, noting how the evening breeze gently lifted strands of her hair. She looked ethereal, a stark contrast to the raw intensity she had displayed on stage just moments before. "You were truly magnificent today," he said, his voice carrying a warmth that lingered in the cool air. "It’s amazing how you transform so completely."

Colette smiled, a blush tinting her cheeks. "Thank you, Harry. You were incredible as well. There’s a certain ferocity you bring to Romeo that’s both thrilling and heart-wrenching."

They reached the dressing rooms, tucked behind a curtain of ivy that draped over the stone walls of the old stage building. Its doors stood like portals back to reality from the whimsical world they had just left behind on set.

Pausing by her door, Harry shuffled slightly, a mix of eagerness and hesitation playing across his features. "Colette, I was wondering, would you... perhaps care for some dinner? There’s this little place I know nearby, quite secluded, perfect for winding down."

The offer hung between them like a delicate promise; a chance to extend the enchantment of their shared performance into the evening. Colette’s eyes lit up with genuine interest. "That sounds lovely, Harry. A quiet dinner would be perfect." Her smile was inviting, bridging the gap between their on-set romance and off-set camaraderie.

As they walked towards Harry's car parked under a canopy of whispering leaves, they talked about everything from their interpretations of their characters to trivial anecdotes from their daily lives. The restaurant was nestled in an alley illuminated by strings of faint golden lights that created halos in the misty night air.

Inside, they chose a corner table surrounded by bookshelves filled with worn volumes and odd trinkets—a cozy retreat from the outside world. As they ordered, they continued to unravel layers of conversation, each topic a stepping stone deeper into each other’s thoughts and dreams.

The meal was delicious—simple fare but made with care—a reflection of the restaurant itself. They laughed over shared appetizers and lingered over wine that painted their thoughts in broader strokes. The candlelight flickered across their faces, casting soft shadows that danced to an unplayed rhythm.

By dessert, Harry found himself watching Colette with renewed appreciation as she articulated her ambitions for future roles and her vision for modern theatrical interpretation. She listened equally intently as he described his journey through being a musician and his aspirations beyond.

As Harry and Colette lingered over the last sips of their drinks, the cozy warmth of the restaurant began to feel like a protective cocoon against the crisp night air outside. They shared a quiet moment, smiling at the serendipity of their meeting and the depth of conversation it had spurred. But as they rose to leave, pushing their chairs back gently against the worn wooden floor, the surreal bubble they had enjoyed burst with abrupt clarity.

Stepping out onto the alley, they were met not by the quiet of the night but by a sudden burst of flashing lights and clamorous voices. Paparazzi, having caught wind of their dinner together, swarmed around them like moths to a flame. Cameras clicked and flashed relentlessly, capturing every gesture and expression, as reporters shouted questions trying to pierce through the veil of their private evening.

"Harry! Colette! Are you two more than just co-stars?" one voice rang out, sharper than the rest.

"Is this dinner a sign of a new Hollywood power couple?" another chimed in.

Shields up against this intrusive barrage, Harry instinctively placed a protective arm around Colette’s shoulders. He guided her gracefully yet swiftly towards his car, parked under the now ominous canopy of leaves that whispered secrets in a tone much darker than before. Each flash from the cameras cast stark shadows on the ground and painted their path in fast paced steps.

Colette kept her head down slightly, her smile replaced by a composed mask of cordial indifference; it was clear she was no stranger to these encounters but nonetheless hoped they might evade them tonight. Harry muttered a polite "have a good night" as he helped her into the passenger seat of his car.

Inside the relative safety of the vehicle, they exchanged a look—a mix of amusement and exasperation—and Harry let out a sigh as he started the engine. The lights outside continued to flash through the tinted windows as he maneuvered out of their parking spot.

The drive back was quiet at first, as if they were both processing the sudden shift from intimate conversation to public spectacle. Yet soon enough, Harry turned down the volume on an ambient tune that had started playing automatically when they entered.

"That was intense," he said, glancing over at Colette with an apologetic half-smile.

"It always is," Colette replied, turning to face him with a resigned smile. "But hey, part of our charming careers, right?"

Harry laughed softly. "Yeah, charm is one word for it."

As the car glided through the dimly lit streets, the silence between them grew heavy with unspoken thoughts. Colette broke the tension first, her voice soft but tinged with a hint of frustration.

"I sometimes wonder if this is what we signed up for, you know? The constant scrutiny, the invasion of privacy... Is it worth it in the end?" she mused, her gaze fixed on the passing city lights.

Harry nodded thoughtfully, his grip on the steering wheel tightening imperceptibly. "I ask myself that question too, especially on nights like this. It's like we're always under a microscope, every move dissected and analyzed by strangers."

A sense of comfort blossomed between them, a shared understanding born out of their parallel experiences in the spotlight. Colette turned to Harry, a spark of defiance igniting in her eyes.

"But despite all of that," she continued, her voice gaining strength, "we can't let them define us or dictate our every move. We're more than just their headlines and gossip fodder."

Harry smiled at her resolve, a flicker of admiration shimmering in his eyes. "You're right, Colette. We're artists first and foremost, creators of worlds and emotions."

Their shared conviction filled the car with a renewed sense of purpose, a quiet determination to reclaim their narrative from the prying eyes of the paparazzi. As they neared Colette's apartment building, Harry parked the car with a sense of finality.

"Thank you for tonight," Colette said sincerely, turning to face him with a genuine smile. "Even the chaos at the end, I truly enjoyed our conversation and dinner, it was really good."

Harry returned her smile warmly. "Likewise, Colette. We are more than just co-stars caught in a media frenzy."

As Colette opened the door to her apartment, the image of Harry in his Romeo costume flashed vividly across her mind. His appearance had been a perfect blend of vulnerability and valiance, his attire accentuating the expressive lines of his body as he moved with an almost ethereal grace on stage. The sheer, soft fabric of his shirt clung to him as if it were part of his own skin, and the way the stage lights had caught the highlights in his hair made him look like a figure from an old-world painting—romantic and heroic.

Inside her quiet apartment, everything seemed too still, too empty compared to the warmth of Harry's presence. She tossed her keys on the table absent-mindedly and moved towards her bedroom, her mind replaying their conversation in the car. His words echoed in her ears, blending with flashes of his smile and the intensity in his eyes when he spoke about their artistry. It was as if he'd stripped away all the glitz and scandal that so often cloaked their lives, revealing a raw, sincere connection between them.

Colette tried to settle into bed, pulling her covers close, but restlessness took over. Turning onto her back, she stared at the ceiling, her thoughts spiraling around Harry’s comforting arm around her shoulders earlier that night. She remembered how secure it felt, a protective circle that shut out the incessant flash of cameras and curious stares. The smell of his cologne, a subtle mix of bergamot and sandalwood—seemed to linger on her skin, transporting her back to their fleeting moments of privacy amidst the chaos.

The more she thought about him, the more details came flooding in. How his lips curved into a smile just before he laughed, how his eyes lit up when discussing a particularly passionate scene. Even the way he held himself during their performance—confident yet tender—seemed etched into her memory with surprising clarity.

A sigh escaped her lips as she turned again in bed, fluffing her pillow in vain search for comfort. The digital clock on her bedside table glowed 2:17 AM; time was slipping by slowly tonight. Every tick seemed to resonate within the quiet room, each one reminding her of Harry’s gentle demeanor and unspoken assurances.

Why was it so difficult to push these thoughts aside? Why did every tiny detail of him seem magnified tonight? Colette knew that sleep would be elusive as long as these memories danced through her head, a sweet torment but a torment nonetheless.

Realizing that fighting it was futile, she sat up and reached for a book from her nightstand. Perhaps diving into someone else’s fictional world could ease her back from hers filled with all too real emotions spurred by Harry. Yet as she flipped through page after page, Colette found herself reading without absorbing any words. Her mind was back with Harry, reliving each moment spent together that day.

Finally surrendering to the inexorable pull of those memories, Colette set the book aside and allowed herself to reminisce about every glance exchanged and every laugh shared with Harry until tiredness eventually claimed victory over turmoil—a bittersweet end to an evening that neither camera flashes nor gossip columns could ever truly capture.

As the first rays of morning light began to filter through her gauzy curtains, Colette felt a tentative peace settle over her. The unavoidable sunrise not only heralded a new day but also the unavoidable return to set where today's scenes awaited her—scenes that would force her to bridge the gap between reality and fiction, between Colette and Juliet, Harry and Romeo.

The day unfurled slowly, each moment stretching languidly as if aware of the weight it carried. Colette arrived on set, her heart thrumming a nervous rhythm against the cage of her ribs. The set was a meticulous recreation of Verona, the air perfumed with artificial blooms that lined the faux stone balconies. It was here, beneath a painstakingly crafted balcony, that she found Harry already immersed in his role, his eyes distant yet filled with an intense purpose.

As makeup artists fluttered around them like attentive sprites, dusting their faces with powder and painting their lips, the boundary between Harry and Romeo, Colette and Juliet blurred seamlessly. The director—a wiry man with a penchant for perfection—guided them through their positions with an authoritarian yet oddly paternal touch.

"Remember," he said, his voice low and urgent as if conveying a secret, "this kiss isn’t just about passion. It’s about discovery, wonderment. You’re unveiling layers of your soul to one another."

Taking their places, Harry extended his hand with a gallantry that could either be attributed to him or to Romeo—it was hard to tell at this juncture. As Colette placed her hand in his, their fingers tentatively entwining, she wondered if he felt the same electric surge that ran up her arm.

The cameras rolled silently, capturing every nuanced expression. Around them, the crew faded into obscurity; it was just Harry and Colette, Romeo and Juliet. As Harry spoke his lines—the words Shakespeare penned centuries ago—his voice wove around her heart like a tender vine. His gaze held hers captive and in that moment, under the watchful eyes of countless unseen spectators both present and future, fiction turned into a palpable reality.

With the gentlest of motions indicative of both apprehension and certainty, Harry drew closer. His breath mingled with hers—a sweet prelude to the imminent ballet of their lips. When their lips finally met in an embrace as old as time yet fresh like dew on morning leaves, there was a hush on set so profound that even the rustle of fabric seemed sacrilege.

The kiss deepened not out of direction but from an intrinsic need to explore the burgeoning emotion that had started off as an onscreen farce but had bloomed into something indefinably real. They existed in the breath between lines; in the silence between words—their world distilled into the small space between their intertwined fingers and mingling breaths.

As they parted—an infinity encapsulated in seconds—their gazes lingered longingly; not solely because the script demanded it but because their souls hesitated to disentangle.

"Cut!" The director's voice sliced through the thick curtain of emotion, abrupt yet not unkind.

Applause broke out among the crew, bringing Harry and Colette back from Verona to the soundstage. Yet something lingered in their shared glance, a spark that neither the stark lights of the studio nor the return to their own separate lives could dim. As they stepped away from each other, there was an awkward moment of hesitation, a mutual recognition of something undefined and new swirling between them.

The rest of the day passed in a daze of repeated scenes and whispered lines. Colette found herself more aware of Harry's presence, every look and every touch magnified under the scrutinizing lens of her newfound feelings. Off-camera, they joked and laughed, but there was an unspoken agreement in their smiles, a secret tucked away behind their lighthearted banter.

When filming wrapped for the day, Colette felt the exhaustion from emotional strain more than from physical demand. The carousel of her thoughts kept spinning as she drove home, the ghost of Harry’s touch lingering like a promise on her skin.

Back at her apartment, she knew she ought to eat something or perhaps review scripts for tomorrow's shoot. Instead, she found herself at her window, gazing out into the twilight cityscape, her mind replaying every encounter with Harry. It wasn't just their characters who had discovered new emotional landscapes; Colette feared she was standing on the precipice of a revelation herself.

Her phone rang, slicing through her silence. She hesitated before answering, half-hoping it was Harry. It was her agent instead.

"Colette! Todays news came in; you were absolutely sublime! Everyone’s buzzing about the chemistry between you and Harry," her agent enthused over the line. Though meant as praise, each word weighed heavy on her soul like stones filling her pockets.

"Thanks," Colette managed to say, her voice a mere whisper against the storm inside her. "That means a lot."

"Listen," her agent continued, oblivious to Colette's turmoil, "There’s talk already about future projects for you two—maybe even some endorsements together. This could be huge for your career."

Her career. Right. That’s what mattered. Yet as Colette ended the call and sat back against the soft cushions of her couch, she couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps this time, something else mattered more.

She finally allowed herself to consider the possibility that what was scripted for Romeo and Juliet might have woven itself into the fabric of reality for Harry and herself. Could life imitate art to such a degree? Or was it merely caught up in the whirlwind of creating something beautiful together?

The night deepened around Colette as she sat alone with her thoughts. She knew decisions lay ahead, decisions about how far she should let this potential off-screen relationship develop amidst their on-screen romance. Tonight though, she would allow herself one certainty: that in all her roles, both lived and acted, nothing had ever felt quite as dangerous or as genuine as whatever was unfolding with Harry.

The room dimmed further as the last strains of sunlight vanished, leaving only the flickering shadows cast by the streetlamps outside. Colette's mind, a whirlpool of longing and rationality, began to conjure vivid scenes of Harry reciting lines from their recent scenes. Each word, artfully delivered with his rich, emotive voice, seemed to echo through her now quiet apartment, filling the spaces between her scattered thoughts.

He had stood there on stage, beneath the opulent glow of the set lights, his eyes finding hers in the scripted moments that felt all too real. "But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks?" Harry's voice had quivered slightly with a passion that transcended performance. Colette remembered how her heart had leapt at those words, how the scripted distance between them seemed to collapse in a singularity of shared emotion.

As Romeo, he had been impetuous yet earnest, his every motion weaving a spell of youthful ardor and desperate love. And now, alone, she let her mind replay those scenes—his beseeching gaze, his hands reaching not just for Juliet but for Colette herself. Could it be that each line he delivered was an arrow aimed directly at her heart? The balcony scene unfolded again in her thoughts: Harry's silhouette framed by the mock Verona backdrop they had on set. "With love's light wings did I o'erperch these walls; For stony limits cannot hold love out," he had declared fervently.

Could stony limits hold her emotions at bay? Her career had always been a fortress of sorts—a necessity to keep vulnerability at bay. But Harry’s portrayal of Romeo dismantled her defenses brick by brick, not through sheer force but through the tender strength of shared vulnerability.

In her mind's eye, Colette wandered back to a moment during rehearsals when Harry had improvised—off-script yet profoundly resonant—speaking directly to her soul beyond the bounds of their characters. "And yet I wish but for the thing I have: My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep; the more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite." How his eyes had held hers, unwavering!

The thought brought an unexpected tear to Colette's eye—a tear for the uncertain future, for the potential hardships they might face together or apart, but also a tear for the beauty of a connection that might just transcend the ephemeral world of acting.

Colette rose from the couch and moved towards her window. Gazing out into the starlit cityscape, she pondered over these newly tapped depths within her heart. Perhaps tomorrow she would make decisions with consequences she couldn't yet foresee. But tonight belonged to dreams and whispered lines—a night where Harry's recitations from Romeo and Juliet swirled around her heart like a sweet yet potent incantation. Tonight was not about contracts or cameras. It was about understanding that what they might share could be as profound and real as any love story ever penned—an ode not written by Shakespeare but lived by two hearts daring enough to explore it.

As the hours ticked by, the city outside her window slowly transformed. The glaring neon signs dimmed to a soft glow, and the relentless honking of cars turned into a distant murmur, as if even New York herself had decided to catch her breath. In that serene quietude, amidst the gentle rustle of leaves and the occasional chirping of a late-night bird, Colette's mind kept returning to Harry—to his eyes, his voice, his surprisingly delicate touch on stage.

She tried reading a book, but the words blurred into meaningless shapes as her thoughts danced back to those moments onstage when the air between them seemed charged with an electric intensity. It was in those moments when Harry's voice would deepen just so, casting out lines like spells that wrapped around her heart, binding it inexplicably to him.

Restlessness finally got the better of Colette. With a sigh, she set aside her book and picked up her phone. Her thumb hovered over Harry's contact—for a moment she hesitated—but then, driven by an impulse she neither questioned nor understood fully, she pressed call.

The phone rang briefly before Harry's familiar voice filled the line. "Colette? Is everything alright?"

"I couldn't sleep," she confessed softly, the words feeling both foolish and necessary.

There was a pause—a thoughtful silence—and then Harry’s voice came again, quietly intense. "Come over, then. I’ve been trying to distract myself with scripts and lyrics, but it seems tonight is bent on being restless."

A small smile touched her lips; relief washed through her in gentle waves. "Give me twenty minutes?"

"Take your time," he replied with such warmth that it felt like a hug through the phone.

When Colette arrived at Harry’s apartment—a modest yet cozy space filled with stacks of books and paintings that spilled from every corner—she found him sitting on the balcony overlooking the twinkling skyline. He had two cups of tea steaming gently on a small table between them.

As she stepped out onto the balcony, he rose to greet her with an ease that belied his earlier restlessness. They didn’t speak much initially; words seemed superfluous as they sipped their tea and let the city’s nocturnal symphony envelop them.

It was only after both cups were emptied that Harry spoke again, his voice soft but clear against the backdrop of whispering winds. "You know," he began hesitantly, "tonight reminds me of our final act last week—the way Juliet looks at Romeo with such... such unguarded hope.”

"Yes," Colette whispered back, feeling that familiar pull in her chest—the inexplicable connection that seemed to thrive in shared silences and stolen glances rather than grand declarations.

"Sometimes," Harry continued, turning to face her more fully now, "I wonder whether we’re more than just actors playing parts—whether some scenes bleed into reality without us even noticing."

Colette reached out then, touching his hand lightly. "Maybe they do," she said simply. And for a long while after that, they sat there together—two figures etched against a sprawling cityscape—finding solace in each other's presence and in the quiet conviction that tonight was not merely about roles or rehearsals; it was about discovering truths hidden within lines delivered.

As the night deepened and the city's sounds ebbed into a lulling quiet, the conversation between Harry and Colette drifted from their characters' tragic romance to their own realities—careers that were as dazzling as they were demanding, personal lives constantly scrutinized by the public eye, and futures uncertain but full of potential.

"Sometimes I think about stepping away," Harry admitted, his gaze locked on the distant lights. "From the music, from the films—just to see who I am when the lights go off."

Colette nodded. The vulnerability in his voice resonated with her own unspoken fears. "It's as though we're constantly wearing masks, isn't it? Onstage or off, it's hard to tell where the character ends and where we begin."

"Yeah," he sighed. "Tonight though, being here with you—it feels real. No scripts, no audience." His eyes met hers with an intensity that sent a shiver through her.

She smiled, feeling a sense of kinship forge deeper between them. "No masks," she whispered.

They sat for a moment in silence, each lost in contemplation of the rare simplicity this evening had brought them—a stark contrast to their everyday chaos. Harry eventually stood up, stretching his arms towards the starry sky before offering his hand to her. "Come on, let’s take a walk. The night’s too beautiful to spend it all sitting down."

Reluctantly leaving their secluded spot, they wandered down quiet streets lined with barely lit cafes and closed bookstores, their steps synchronized in comfortable silence. Every so often, Harry would point out an old theater or a quaint little art gallery he’d visited during his tours. Colette listened intently, her heart swelling with an affection that was new and yet profoundly familiar.

As they turned back towards Harry's apartment, he stopped suddenly under a streetlamp’s soft glow. "I haven't felt this... peaceful in months," he confessed, looking at her with an earnestness that made her heart skip.

She reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. "Neither have I," she said. "It’s easy to forget what quiet feels like when your life is full of noise."

Harry nodded, his gaze lingering on her face as if memorizing every detail. "Do you think it's possible? To find peace amidst all the turmoil?"

"I think," she started, pausing to gather her thoughts under his attentive gaze, "it's about finding the right person to share in those quiet moments—the ones who hear the music in your silences."

A warm smile spread across Harry's face as he drew her closer. Underneath that streetlamp, amid the sleeping city and beneath an audience of stars, they found a momentary escape—not as Romeo and Juliet caught in Shakespearean tragedy nor as celebrities shadowed by fames relentless spotlight—but simply as Harry and Colette discovering solace within each other's company.

As they slowly headed back to his apartment, hands entwined with silent promises of more shared nights like this one, both understood that while their careers might pull them in different directions come morning, tonight was theirs—a night marked not by dialogues written by playwrights long gone but by honest words exchanged between two souls navigating through life’s vast stage together.

She felt the warmth of his hand in hers, the roughness of his skin against her own soft palm, sending shivers down her spine. She looked up at him, taking in the way he moved, so confident and yet so gentle at the same time. Colette couldn't help but feel safe in his presence. The sound of their footsteps echoed on the empty sidewalk, mixing with the distant hum of traffic and occasional howl of a lonesome siren. As they turned into an alleyway, she breathed in the scent of freshly baked bread from a nearby bakery, mingling with the stale smoke from a cigarette butt left behind by some passerby. The stars above twinkled like diamonds scattered across a midnight sky, their light guiding them home.

They walked hand in hand beneath the glow of the streetlamp, casting shadows on the brick wall behind them as they stepped forward. The rhythm of their stride became synced, almost like they were dancing to an unknown melody. Every now and then, Harry would point out constellations he recognized or make up stories about the ones he didn't, his voice deep and soothing like velvet caressing her ears. His laughter rang out when she teased him about his astronomical knowledge—or lack thereof—and she loved how genuine it sounded despite everything that surrounded them.

Colette paused for a moment to look at a painting on an old doorstep; it was beautifully executed yet marred by graffiti tags that told stories of love lost and hearts broken. Harry stood beside her, looking over her shoulder as if seeing it for the first time too. She noticed how his presence made even this decrepit alleyway seem somehow beautiful.

They continued walking, their steps echoing softly against the pavement as they neared Harry's apartment building. As they reached the front door, he stopped and with a flourish produced a set of keys from his jeans pocket. The metal jangled softly against each other as he unlocked it, and then they stepped inside out of the cool night air into the warmth of his cozy living room. Setting down her purse, Colette looked around at the familiar surroundings - the worn sofa, the bookshelf filled with favorite novels and framed photographs from past adventures, and the unlit fireplace waiting for winter evenings. The musty smell of old books mingled with freshly brewed coffee drifting from the kitchenette.

"Well," Harry began as he shut the door behind them, "I guess this is where our little adventure ends."

Colette's heart sank at his words but she forced a smile anyway. "Yeah... it was fun while it lasted."

"It always is," he agreed quietly, moving towards her and giving her one last hug before gently pushing her towards the door. "You should get some sleep though, early morning meeting tomorrow."

With one final wave goodnight, Colette slipped through the door and into the hallway, hearing it click shut behind her. Outside on the sidewalk, she took a deep breath of the cool night air and felt a slight shiver run down her spine as reality came crashing back in - work in the morning with its emails and deadlines and office politics. But for now, she allowed herself to linger on the memory of their night together: The taste of wine on her tongue still lingering; the soft buzz from alcohol fading; Harry's touch still lingering on her skin like tiny electric shocks.

As Colette closed the door behind her, she could hear the familiar clicking sound filling her with a sense of finality. The night air was crisp against her skin, carrying with it a chill that sent shivers down her spine as she took in deep breaths of the city outside. Her mind was still reeling from the events of the evening; it had been an unforgettable journey into a world she never imagined existed. But alas, all good things must come to an end, and now she found herself standing on the sidewalk once more, back in reality. The neon lights from nearby stores cast an artificial glow upon the pavement as she stepped away from Harry's cozy apartment and began to walk towards home. The sound of footsteps echoed on concrete as cars honked their horns in the distance, creating a symphony of urban noise that surrounded her.

She could still feel Harry's embrace pressing against her back as if he were wrapping his arms around hers again, sending tingles up and down her spine with each step she took away from him. She could still taste the sweetness of red wine dancing on her tongue - its tartness mixing with the lingering taste of their passionate kisses as if it were a bitter-sweet symphony only they shared. She let out a soft sigh and looked up at the starry sky above; the sight always managed to calm her nerves but tonight it only served as a reminder that their time together was over.

The streets were empty save for a few late-night stragglers making their way home from parties or bars, their laughter and music fading into nothingness as Colette walked further down the block. A soft breeze rustled through trees lining the sidewalk, leaves whispering secrets only they knew while carrying with them.

Once Colette made it home she brushed her teeth and went into her cozy bed wrapped around in her favorite cotton pajamas, snuggling deep into the softness of her sheets. She reached over to her phone on the bedside table and saw Harry's name still glowing on the screen. A smile tugged at her lips as she remembered their last goodbye

As she drifted off, Colette imagines walking through Central Park once more. The crisp air rustled through trees, carrying with it the scent of autumn - earthy and musky. She could hear the sound of leaves crunching underfoot and see birds flitting from branch to branch overhead. They sat together on a bench, leaning against one another as they watched nature's greatest show for free. He held her hand closely, lacing fingers between hers as if they were always meant to be entwined like that. And then she felt a drop of rain on her nose, followed by another one on her cheek. They both laughed as they ran hand in hand towards his apartment; their shoes splashing through puddles left behind by an unexpected shower that cloud-covered sky promised earlier in the day.

Colette woke up with that same coolness brushing against her face but found herself alone in bed instead of curled up with Harry. The memory lingered like a fond dream but faded away with each blink until all that was left was reality.

Colette got ready and made her way over to the studio, today was the last day of scenes, and the scene where Romeo and Juliet meet their demise.

As she entered the bustling set, the weight of the final day pressed on her shoulders like a heavy curtain about to fall for the last time. The air was thick with a mix of excitement and melancholy, as everyone from the crew to the cast moved with a purposeful urgency, aware that this chapter was closing. Colette brushed past the props and costume racks, her mind still tangled in thoughts of Harry and the night that they had spent wrapped in each other’s company.

She found herself in front of her dressing room mirror, staring at her own reflection as she slipped into Juliet's intricate gown. Each layer of fabric seemed to wrap her tighter, not just in character but also in the realization that soon she would have to strip away this identity that had become a second skin over months of filming.

"Knock knock," came a familiar voice from the door. It was Harry, leaning against the frame with that charming smile that always seemed to disarm her.

"Hey," Colette replied, her heart skipping a beat. "Ready for the grand finale?"

"As I'll ever be," Harry said, stepping inside and helping adjust a loose strand of her hair. "It’s surreal, isn’t it? Feels like just yesterday we were stumbling through our first lines together and today we die together."

Colette nodded, feeling the corners of her eyes moisten. "I'm going to miss us—this."

Harry took her hand gently, squeezing it reassuringly. "The end of one story, Colette. Not the end of everything."

Together, they walked onto the set where the final scene awaited them—a beautifully tragic conclusion to Shakespeare’s timeless tale. The set was a somber array of shadows and light, perfectly crafting an ambiance befitting their last moment as Romeo and Juliet.

As they stepped into their marks, silence enveloped the set. The director called for quiet on set and slowly, every surrounding noise dulled into obscurity until there was nothing but the fictional world they were anchored in.

"Action!" came the resolute call.

The scene unfolded with an intensity that mirrored the raw emotions both Harry and Colette felt. They delivered their lines with a palpable passion, their voices laced with the poignant realization of both the characters' and their own impending separation. As Romeo, Harry took a vial of poison, his hands trembling slightly—a detail that added a layer of desperate realism to his performance. Colette, as Juliet, lay motionless on the stone-cold crypt, her chest rising and falling subtly, awaiting her final cue.

When it came time for Juliet to awaken, Colette's eyes fluttered open to meet Harry's gaze one last time. The sorrow in his eyes was reflected in hers; no longer just acting, they were living their characters' tragedy. As she spoke her last lines, a tear escaped down her cheek, blurring the boundary between performance and reality.

The potent mix of fiction and their personal goodbye charged through their final kiss, drawing a silent gasp from the crew around them. As Juliet drove Romeo's dagger into her chest, Colette collapsed beside Harry with a grace that spoke volumes of the artistry she had poured into her role.

For a few heartbeats after the director called "Cut!" nobody moved. The echo of their lines lingered in the air, heavy with the weight of finality. It was only when the applause broke out that Harry and Colette were pulled back from Verona to the stark reality of the studio set.

Still lying beside each other on the cold ground of the set crypt, they turned to look at each other one last time. The clapping around them faded into a distant murmur as Harry reached out to brush away another tear from Colette’s cheek.

“That was...” Harry started but seemed unable to find the right words.

“Beautiful,” Colette finished for him, her voice barely above a whisper. “And absolutely fucking heartbreaking.”

They helped each other up and took a bow to the crew whose cheers had now filled up space like light flooding into dark corners. It was over — their journey as star-crossed lovers had come to an end on screen.

Just then, the director, a tall figure with a rumpled look that spoke of endless days and sleepless nights, stepped into the circle of light. He adjusted his glasses, looking from Harry to Colette with an expression torn between admiration and the perpetual dissatisfaction of a perfectionist.

"Truly magnificent," he pronounced, though his voice carried a but that hung in the air unspoken. The crew quieted, sensing there was more to come. "However," he continued, casting a quick glance at the cameraman who nodded sheepishly, "we had a slight glitch with the lighting. One of our key lights flickered out right at the crucial moment."

A collective sigh rippled through the team, mixed with a few suppressed groans. Yet no one protested— they all knew the importance of getting it just right.

"We need to go for another take," the director declared firmly. The disappointment was palpable, but so was the resolve to perfect the art they were all crafting together.

Harry and Colette exchanged a look of weary determination. Without a word, they moved back to their starting positions beside the stone altar that served as Juliet's final resting place.

As the crew reset their equipment, Harry glanced around at the towering set pieces that recreated Verona's gothic splendor. Artificial moonlight streamed through stained glass windows crafted from gel and plastic but beautiful nonetheless. Shadows danced along walls textured to look like ancient stone, casting eerie patterns that whispered of old secrets and timeless tragedies.

Colette smoothed her velvet gown—a rich crimson that pooled around her like spilled wine—and repositioned her hairpiece, tucking a stray lock behind her ear before she lay down once more on the cold faux-marble slab.

The props master darted forward to adjust the placement of the dagger—a replica so finely crafted it seemed as sharp as truth itself—before scurrying away as silently as he had arrived.

"Places everyone!" called the assistant director, a sprightly woman whose energy seemed inexhaustible. Her voice cut through the murmured conversations and last-minute adjustments, snapping everyone back to attention.

As silence reclaimed the set, encapsulating it in a tense bubble of anticipation, the director looked over his tableau one last time. Satisfied, he lifted his hand high then brought it down sharply.

"And... action!"

In a haunting moment, Colette delved deeper into her character, her eyes brimming with an unfathomable anguish originating not in physical torment but in the profound intertwining of loss and love. As she enacted plunging the steel through heart and bone with tragic precision, Harry’s response mirrored her intensity—his visage a masterful portrayal of despair and utter helplessness.

Silently, the cameras rolled, capturing each subtle nuance: the taut muscles beneath Juliet's delicate makeup; Romeo's trembling fingertips reaching across unseen barriers; Colette's quivering shoulders as she drew breaths heavy with sorrow. When she crumpled beside Harry once more, her descent seemed like a graceful surrender—a fragile leaf succumbing to its inevitable fall.

The seconds stretched endlessly until once again the director called out "Cut!" His voice broke through Colette’s final shuddering breaths and this time when he spoke there was no hiding his satisfaction. "Perfect," he said simply, nodding with fervor.

The applause that erupted was spontaneous and heartfelt, echoing around the cavernous studio like waves crashing against a shore. Crew members wiped away tears, caught in the emotional riptide of the scene they had just witnessed.

Harry and Colette, still entangled on the ground, finally allowed themselves a small smile—exhausted, relieved, and a little incredulous at the magic they had managed to recreate. As they stood up, their faces glistening with sweat and theatrical tears, they were enveloped in a series of eager hugs and congratulations from everyone around them.

The makeup artists hurried over with their kits ready to do touch-ups, but for a moment nobody touched Harry or Colette; it was as if their looks were sacred, perfectly capturing the essence of the poignant tragedy they had just embodied. The director approached them, clapping Harry on the back and kissing Colette on both cheeks.

"I couldn't have asked for more," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "You both brought Juliet and Romeo to life in a way I never could have envisioned when we first started this project."

Harry, catching his breath, nodded appreciatively. "It felt right," he admitted, looking down at his costume, stained with artificial blood that somehow felt all too real at that moment.

Colette brushed a tear from her cheek and laughed lightly. "I think I'm going to miss her," she confessed, referring to Juliet. "It's strange how a character can become a part of you."

As they made their way off the set, passing through the constructed archways and past the fabricated stone tombs, there was a collective sense of completion but also of loss; the world they had created was temporary, its dissolution inevitable now that the film was wrapped.

The wrap party later that evening was a lively affair held at a local venue adorned with replicas of props and costumes from the film. The mood was buoyant yet bittersweet as cast and crew mingled, sharing memories from months of hard work.

Colette found herself standing by a balcony overlooking the city lights, a glass of champagne in hand. Harry joined her soon after.

"It's going to be odd not seeing everyone tomorrow," he said, leaning against the railing beside her.

"Yeah," Colette agreed softly. "It's like saying goodbye to family."

They sipped their drinks in companionable silence for a moment before Harry spoke up again.

"What’s next for you?" he asked curiously.

Colette shrugged slightly. "A few scripts to read; maybe some time off. And you?"

"Same," Harry replied. "Though it'll be hard to top this experience."

They smiled at each other, sharing an unspoken acknowledgement of the journey they had shared. The night grew deeper around them as words gave way to shared glances and laughter from inside reached their ears—a soundtrack to endings and new beginnings alike.

“Why don’t we get out of here, go to my place for a while.” Harry said while looking over at Colette.

Colette glanced up at the stars twinkling above, considering his invitation. A gentle breeze ruffled her hair, bringing with it the distant sounds of celebration from inside. It felt like the perfect end to an intense and transformative day.

"Sounds like a plan," she replied with a smile that matched the lightness in her heart.

They excused themselves from the party, slipping away unnoticed among the throngs of well-wishers and fellow revelers. The city's streets were quiet as they walked side by side, their footsteps syncing in a comfortable rhythm.

Arriving at Harry's place, he unlocked the door and let them into his warmly lit apartment. Colette really examined the place. The space was tastefully decorated with various mementos from his travels and projects, each piece telling a story of its own. Colette wandered over to a shelf displaying several old cameras and script binders.

"This place has character," she commented, picking up a vintage camera and examining it closely.

"Thanks," Harry said as he went to fix them some drinks in the kitchen. "It's my little sanctuary away from all the chaos."

Returning with two glasses of wine, he joined her by a large window overlooking the cityscape. They talked for hours about everything—from their fears and dreams to trivial stories from set—each conversation thread drawing them closer, weaving a new layer into their friendship.

As dawn hinted at its arrival with a soft glow on the horizon, Harry poured them each another glass of wine. "To new beginnings?" he proposed, raising his glass slightly.

"To new beginnings," Colette echoed, clinking her glass against his. They sipped their wine in serene silence, watching as the city slowly came to life.

Harry's heart raced as he leaned in closer to Colette, his breath hot against her ear. "I have to do this," he whispered urgently, desperation lacing his words. Colette's eyes widened in surprise, but she nodded, giving him permission to continue. And with that, Harry pressed his lips hungrily against hers, pouring all of his pent-up desire and longing into the passionate kiss. Electricity crackled between them as their bodies molded together, fueling the intensity of their connection. In that moment, nothing else mattered but the taste of each other on their lips and the overwhelming need driving them both.

“I’ve been thinking about this since we filmed that scene.”

Colette's breath hitched at Harry’s admission. "That scene?" she inquired, her voice trembling with a heady cocktail of nerves and anticipation. He traced his thumb across the contour of her lips, nodding before reclaiming them with a renewed intensity that left no room for doubt.

"That damn scene," he murmured against the luscious curve of her mouth, his hot whispers making her shiver in response. His hands found their way to her waist, pulling her closer so she could feel every hard inch of him against the softness of her body.

Colette's heart pounded in her chest as Harry's thumb traced the contours of her lips, her eyes fluttering closed at the feeling. His hot whispers sent shivers down her spine, and she couldn't help but arch into him, seeking more contact.

"That scene," he murmured against her skin, his voice thick with desire, "made me want you even more." With that, he claimed her lips once again, his tongue diving deep into her mouth as his hands found their way up underneath her shirt. She moaned into the kiss, feeling his calloused fingertips brush against the underside of her breasts.

His touch sent electric shockwaves through her body, making every nerve ending tingle with anticipation. She whimpered softly against his mouth, clutching at his shoulders as he teased her nipples through her bra. "Harry," she gasped out between ragged breaths, her voice barely a whisper.

He pulled back slightly to look down at her flushed face. "Tell me you want this," he growled lowly, eyes dark and intense as they bore into hers. Colette swallowed hard before nodding frantically. "I do," she whispered back in a voice that shook with need.

Without further hesitation, Harry scooped Colette up into his strong arms and carried her over to the nearby bed. He set her down gently before kneeling down between her spread legs and gazing up at her with a hungry glint in his eyes. "You are so so fucking beautiful," he murmured approvingly as he ran his roughened hands up along the insides of her thighs until they reached their final destination: the lace-covered mound of between them.

Groaning lowly, Harry pressed his fingers against the damp material covering Colette's core and pushed them through the fabric to slide along her wet folds. She cried out softly as sensations she hadn't felt since that fateful day on set washed over her once again—sensations that only seemed to intensify now that they were alone together like this .

Harry's fingers slid deeper into Colette's wet folds, finding her swollen clit and circling it gently. She moaned loudly, arching her back as the sensations overwhelmed her. "You like that, don't you?" he growled, his voice thick with desire.

"Oh god yes," she whimpered, her eyes fluttering closed. "Please, Harry. I need you."

He pulled his fingers away from her core and stood up, pulling her with him. She stumbled to her feet, feeling unsteady from the intense pleasure he'd just given her. He backed her up against the wall, their bodies flush from chest to thighs. His hard cock pressed against her stomach, making her even wetter.

"You are so pretty, love.," he murmured again, his lips brushing against hers in a featherlight kiss. His hands roamed over her body, squeezing her ass cheeks and pulling them apart to reveal her tight little hole. "I want you to feel every inch of me inside you."

Colette shuddered at his words, imagining how good it would feel to be filled up by him. She reached down between them and took hold of his cock through his pants, stroking it slowly as she looked up at him with pleading eyes. "Please," she whispered again.

Harry groaned deeply and grabbed hold of her wrists, lifting them above her head and pinning them against the wall next to her head. His other hand slid down between their bodies once more, pushing aside the fabric of their clothes until he could position his cockhead at her entrance. He looked into her eyes for permission before thrusting forward powerfully into her tight heat.

She cried out in shock and pleasure as he filled her completely in one swift motion. He began to move inside her slowly at first, watching as she adjusted to his size. But soon enough he picked up speed, slamming into her over and over again with a roughness that made Colette's legs shake uncontrollably beneath him."Fuck yes!" she screamed breathlessly as he took control of their coupling completely."

She could feel every inch of him, stretching and filling her while also leaving her wanting more. His grip on her waist tightened as he picked up speed, slamming into her so hard that the bed shook beneath them.

"You like that?" he growled, his voice hoarse with lust.

"God yes!" she moaned back, arching her back to meet each of his thrusts. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she clung to him, unable to resist the overwhelming pleasure coursing through her body. He reached down between them and rubbed circles around her clit with his fingers, sending shudders of delight through her entire being.

"You're so fucking tight," he grunted, leaning down to capture one of her nipples in his mouth and sucking hard. The sensation sent electric shocks straight to her groin, making her even wetter for him. She cried out his name as he hit a particularly sensitive spot inside her, causing an explosive wave of pleasure that left her breathless.

Colette found herself begging for release as he continued to thrust into her unmercifully. "Please... I need you to cum with me!" She could feel herself getting closer and closer to the brink but didn't want it without him by her side. In response, he picked up the pace even more, driving deeper than ever before as they both neared their climaxes together.

Their bodies moved in a frantic rhythm, the sound of their heavy breathing and the soft thuds of flesh meeting flesh filling the room. Colette felt the coil of tension winding tighter and tighter within her, her entire being focused on the overwhelming sensations Harry was eliciting from her.

Just as she thought she could take no more, Harry’s movements became even more purposeful, his strokes deepening, each pushing her further towards that edge. His mouth left her nipple with a wet pop, traveling up her neck, leaving a trail of kisses until he reached her ear. His hot breath against her ear sent another shiver down her spine as he whispered, "Let go for me, love. I’ve got you."

And with those words, Colette felt the dam break. A powerful orgasm washed over her, waves of pleasure pulsating through her as she cried out his name, her body trembling uncontrollably. Harry followed soon after, his own climax overtaking him with a groan as he buried his face in her neck, his body shuddering against hers.

As they both regained their breath, Harry slowly pulled back to look at Colette, his eyes soft now with a tender glow. Gently, he pressed a kiss to her forehead before easing out of her and helping her lay down on the bed. He lay beside her, pulling her into his arms and wrapping her up in his warmth.

They lay there in silence for a moment, neither needing words to express what had just transpired between them. Finally, Colette turned to look at him, a shy smile playing on her lips. “That was…” she started but seemed lost for words.

“Everything,” Harry finished for her, smiling back. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear gently. “You were everything, my Juliet.”

Colette snuggled closer into his embrace, feeling an unfamiliar sense of peace wash over her. What had started as an undeniable attraction had blossomed into something far deeper in these moments alone together. They both knew that what was happening between them wasn’t just fleeting passion; it was something that might just redefine their understanding of connection and desire.

As the night deepened, outside the confines of their intimate world, the city's sounds blended into a distant hum, almost like a lullaby meant to soothe them in their post-climactic serenity. Harry lay there, feeling the gentle rise and fall of Colette's breathing against him, his thoughts meandering through the events that had led to this moment.

After what felt like an eternity bathed in silence and warmth, Colette stirred slightly, breaking the magical spell that had enveloped them. She lifted her head to meet his gaze, her eyes reflecting a mix of wonder and a hint of vulnerability. "Harry," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the quietude. "What does this mean for us? For tomorrow?"

Harry’s heart tightened at her words. Tomorrow. With their lives so deeply entrenched in public scrutiny and their careers always on the line, the weight of reality began to dawn on him. Yet looking into Colette's hopeful eyes, all he wanted was to delay those worries, to live in this bubble for as long as they could.

He brushed his lips against her forehead softly, choosing his words with care. "Let's not think about tomorrow yet," he murmured softly. "Tonight, it’s just you and me. No labels, no expectations. Just... us."

Colette nodded slowly, nestling back into his chest. "Just us," she echoed, allowing herself to be enveloped by the warmth of his promise.

They stayed like that for a while longer until sleep began to claim them, their bodies entwined in a quiet promise of the now with thoughts of tomorrow held at bay.

20 notes · View notes

keerysfreckles · 18 days

Text

angel eyes — OP81 (smau)

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader

summary: oscar falls in love on a trip to greece

warnings: like one sexual innuendo if you squint

a/n: this is just fueling my mamma mia obsession

masterlist !

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

yourusername just posted !

liked by bffusername, oscarpiastri and 190,026 others

yourusername i never want to leave 🤍🇬🇷 tagged: oscarpiastri

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user1 just casually meets oscar on vacay????

user2 i smell a great friendship forming

bffusername y/n who's that..

yourusername oscar 😅😅

bffusername and oscar is.......?

yourusername my new best friend

bffusername WHAT?!?!

oscarpiastri sorry not sorry

user3 THE MAMMA MIA VIBES YES!!!

oscarpiastri sadly we have to leave tomorrow

yourusername osc don't remind me 😞

imessage between y/n and bffname !

oscarpiastri just posted !

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oscarpiastri she made greece even better:) tagged: yourusername

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user1 oh to go to greece with oscar 😖

user2 THEYRE SO CUTE 🥹🥹

landonorris IS THIS THE GIRL YOU WERE TALKING ABOUT?????

user3 PLS NOT LANDO EXPOSING OSCAR 😭😭

oscarpiastri thanks for bringing that up idiot

user4 oscar you need to watch mamma mia IM BEGGING

user5 greece vlog when

yourusername can we adopt that cat pls 🥺

oscarpiastri how would you get it on the plane

yourusername uhhh with my charm?

alex_albon so the trip was only fun when y/n was around?? i see how it is piastri

oscarpiastri 🤷‍♂️

imessage between y/n and oscar !

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oscarpiastri movie marathon before the craziness begins tagged: yourusername, landonorris, alex_albon, georgerussell63

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user1 Y/N WITH THE 2019 ROOKIES PLS

user2 i need all the boys opinions on little women omg

oscarpiastri amy was the only right choice for laurie

alex_albon i miss beth :(

georgerussell63 i fell asleep halfway through

landonorris JOLAURIE ALL THE WAY

user3 Y/N GOT YOU TO WATCH MAMMA MIA OMGOMG

yourusername i still can't believe osc was the only one that like mamma mia

landonorris you know i hate musicals

oscarpiastri you won't be saying that when we watch hsm movies next weekend

yourusername just posted !

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren and 309,822 others

yourusername can proudly say i've been converted into a mclaren fan after this weekend 🧡🏎 tagged: oscarpiastri, mclaren

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user1 YES SHES A MCLAREN GIRL 🤞🤞

bffusername can't believe i wasn't invited 🙄

yourusername sorry osc just likes me better

mclaren ready to be back next race weekend?

yourusername only if oscar gets on the podium again

user2 oscar looks so done in the third pic 😭

yourusername to be fair he was only awake for 5 minutes before the challenge video started

user3 oscar in his passenger princess era

user4 SHE LOOKED STUNNING IN THE PADDOCK SHE WAS SERVING

oscarpiastri i didn't give you permission to post the second pic

yourusername oh well!!!

yourusername added to their story !

[another weekend, another time following osc around oscarpiastri]

oscarpiastri just posted !

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 781,244 others

oscarpiastri thankful to say i got this podium because my good luck charm was here 🧡

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user1 oscar podium looks so good

user2 THANK GOD I WOKE UP IN TIME

user3 HIS GOOD LUCK CHARM????????????

landonorris aw i'm your good luck charm 🤗

oscarpiastri no you're not lando

user4 good luck charm as in.. y/n??

yourusername THAT'S MY OSC!!!!!!!!!!!

yourusername your podium glow is crazy

oscarpiastri crazy how you said something similar last night

yourusername OSCAR.

user5 welcome back LECPIAHAM

mclaren just posted !

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 955,630 others

mclaren our podium winner from the eyes of his good luck charm tagged: oscarpiastri, yourusername

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user1 NOT THE MCLAREN ACC HARD LAUNCHING Y/NOSC ?????

user2 so we were right abt who his lucky charm is

user3 Y/NOSCARS REAL???? WE AREN'T DREAMING????????

oscarpiastri petition for my good luck charm to come to every race

mclaren we're working on it 🫡

user4 i would pay good money to see more pics like these

user5 pookie is pookie-ing

yourusername i love your podium winner 😁

mclaren our podium winner loves you

oscarpiastri it's true 😁

#shelbi writes #keerysfreckles #oscar piastri #oscar piastri smau #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x fem!reader #oscar piastri x female reader #oscar piastri x fem reader #oscar piastri x female!reader #smau #f1 #f1 fic #f1 smau #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri f1

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vampiresbloodx · 23 days

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Older!librarian!Wanda finally takes you out on a date after being too nervous and having that doubt that you don't actually even like her the way she thought you did, you two talk all the time whenever Wanda has a break on her shift, it's her favourite part of the day, just seeing you, smiling and laughing.

She was right about you being in college. It seems you're in your last year and still have no clue on what to do with your future. Wanda can see how much stress you're in with the finals coming up, it pains her to see you like this. She'd give you the whole universe if she could.

She doesn't know why she's so interested in you, these feelings are definitely not like anything she's already experienced. She was slightly confused herself, what she actually feels towards you, but what she does know is that it's love.

Wanda wants to hold you close to her, kiss you, make you happy, make you laugh, cry, and smile. She wants to see all of it. All of you. Every inch of you.

Maybe she's been reading too many romance books and sapphic fiction.

She just wants to wake up next to you, go to sleep with you every night.

And of course, there are other sinful things she wants to do that she finds herself thinking of when she's at work, in the shower, at home, it doesn't matter where, god, the sound of your voice, the way you look at her, ignites a flame inside her that she didn't know was even there.

Wanda grew up in a pretty Christian neighbourhood. It sucked. She was so used to tradition, how everything should be, not how she feels it should be.

Then you changed her mind on it all.

With one smile.

Wanda hasn't been on a date since.... Forever. Hell she doesn't even know who it was with. It probably was pretty bad then. She has been getting used to her phone so she can text you more and call you, just to hear you speak, when she asks you out, she was expecting a humiliating rejection, but when you smiled up at her, adorably so, you accepted.

"pick me up at 8?"

You said to her.

She nodded.

"see you then."

She watches you walk away, releasing a breath she didn't even know she was holding in.

Her hands were shaking, her heart hammering in her chest.

She felt like she was in highschool again.

Wanda had rushed home after her shift ended and she closed up the library for the night, she was panicking, unsure of what to wear and if she should bring wine or flowers, Wanda decided on both, and chocolate, but what if you were allergic? Dark chocolate. Or just roses.

She wore her best dress that made her feel young again, did her make up, and she felt good.

It was time to pick you up, she drove to your address that you had given her, it was a nice little apartment building she parked outside of and went to the door, pressing on the number of the button you told her to do.

"hello?"

There came your voice.

"hi, it's Wanda."

"oh hey! I'll be right down."

When she saw you, her mouth gaped open, her eyes widened, she felt so lucky, you looked gorgeous, you shy away from her gaze as she eyes you up and down, she steps closer, grabbing your hands as she kisses your knuckles.

A shiver went down your spine when you felt her lips, wanting to kiss her immediately.

"you look stunning."

Your cheeks burned.

"uh... Um, you look really beautiful too. Like really beautiful."

It was her turn to blush.

You chuckled, leaning in as you pressed a kiss to her cheek, her face practically turning red.

God you don't know what you're doing to her.

She took you out to a fancy restaurant, she saw your reaction and how surprised you looked, she chuckled, enjoying the way your eyes wondered all over the place.

"ms. Maximoff?" A guy at the counter greeted her, she nodded, smiling at him.

"your table is ready" he guided the two of you to a nice private era, with a candle lit.

Once he left you spoke up.

"damn, I was not expecting this. No one has ever taken me out to a restaurant!" You gushed.

She grinned, "how come? Anyone would feel lucky enough to show you off."

You bit down on your lip.

"keep flirting with me like that we won't even last till dinner."

She laughed, shaking her head.

The dinner went perfectly, and for a surprise, she took you back to the library, where you two first met, in that same spot.

"are we allowed to be here?" You asked in a whisper.

"hon, I practically run it."

"I know but what if we get caught!" You said, standing close to her.

"we won't" she says, unlocking the door.

You both entered as she locked the door from behind so no one else could get in, you two laughing as she brought you to the same spot she first saw you, you got quiet as you remembered it exactly, she smiled, caressing your cheek with her hand as she pressing her body against yours, your back hitting the book shelves.

"you look so pretty" she cooed, "god, I want to ruin you."

You whimpered, her eyes darkening at the sound as she leans in, kissing you on the lips, your hands coming up to wrap around her neck.

#wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x reader #older!wanda #more librarian!wanda hehe #stuff i wrote

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blluespirit · 2 months

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Overall NATLA Thoughts

Okay, now that I've watched the series, I can give my thoughts.

Overall, I thought it was good!!! I had fun watching it! I'd rate it a solid 6.5/10. It's nowhere as good as the original, but it was definitely enjoyable and made some nice changes here and there that I liked. There were also some things I was also Not a fan of too.

I said in another post that it's best to treat this like an AU of the original. There will things that are great and things that are bad. That's the nature of adapting something.

Having said that, I need to get my initial thoughts off my chest... here we go.

Things I thought were good:

Sokka's characterisation - I really enjoyed him! I thought Ian did a good job! He played the funny moments well and retained the underlying seriousness/cautiousness. It wasn't perfect, but I enjoyed the changes a lot and think it was overall a solid performance.

Zuko's characterisation - Like Sokka, I do think I was most satisfied with their performances. A lot of Zuko's moments from the cartoon are sometimes... well, cartoonish and definitely wouldn't translate to live action, but I think Dallas did a nice job at balancing Zuko's desperate anger and that occasional sassiness well.

Zuko and Iroh moments were great. Had me on the floor crying. As it should have.

The bending looks a trillion times better than the movie - I understand it would not have been easy for the actors but, overall, I was very happy about it.

The scenery was stunning. It just looked so beautiful. I loved it so much.

Absolutely ADORE that they made Zuko a good calligrapher and artist. I read a fic about a million years ago where Zuko is a fantastic calligrapher and I thought it was perfect and made so much sense, and now I can say it's canon. This is perfect for me.

S U K I

The Freedom Fighters were ✨ perfect

They were so real for making Oma and Shu lesbians

Koh, Wan Shi Tong and Hei Bai looked fantastic, but I have more to say about all of them below, unfortunately.

I actually like the change they made that Katara is Aang's sole waterbending teacher.

Aang is not perfect, and needed more goofy scenes HOWEVER, I did like how they've had Aang's guilt more prominent in the story. The original didn't do a very good job with that, imo.

Zuko entering is breaking and entering era by breaking into an impenetrable Earth Kingdom prison is just perfect.

In Masks, I like how Aang and Zuko got a longer conversation - that was pretty cute.

I liked how they changed Yue a bit and got her out of the arranged marriage... how Yue saw Sokka in the Spirit World before meeting him in the real world.

Things I didn't like:

Far too much info-dumping/exposition. So much spelling things out. It was not as egregious as the movie, and I get there's a lot of information that needs to be conveyed well and quickly... but sometimes it really took me out of the show.

Why are Mai and Ty Lee here.... I was hoping the live action would give them a bit more depth (and they might as it goes forward!), but why put them in season 1 at all if they're just going to stand around???

Some odd changes - putting this as one point, but there are some bizarre changes that didn't make sense to me, as they did not benefit the story or deepen the characters. I have two main examples: a) making it so Aang didn't run away from home, and b) making it so Zuko actually fights Ozai in the Agni Kai.

Characterisation of Katara was Not Great. I don't think I got many hints of the reckless, compassionate, badass Katara until the end when she fights Pakku and rallies all the women together to fight (which happens off-screen). She was sweet and kind, but she just lacked the fire that OG Katara has.

Azula's characterisation - Azula is desperate to impress Ozai and so her character is just…. brewing with anger, frustration, desperation. I was SO excited to see the Azula we are introduced too… perpetually and irritatingly calm, calculating and ruthless. She's perfect, she's terrifying! She's literally the character of all time. But this Azula had more Zuko vibes? I don't think there's anything wrong with giving Azula more concrete motivation by wanting to impress Ozai and establishing that Ozai is abusive to both his kids, but I do think trying to do that right off the bat is a mistake.

WHY is Wan Shi Tong here. I love Wan Shi Tong, but like I said: Why Is He Here? Why could we not have his iconic, ominous as fuck introduction from The Library, and instead he's introduced in a random season 1 episode giving Aang Information(tm) about the Spirit World.

When Aang gave Koh the statue, and then he just takes it and immediately lets all the villages go, and neither of them even say anything, I actually laughed out loud. Like, I am so sorry, but what in the jesus fuck was that.

Speaking of Koh - I think Koh is better the less we know about him. Roku saying ~all Koh wants is a family like the rest of us~ just pissed me off?? I like my Koh the Face Stealer Terrifying and Unknowable, thank you.

NOTHING EVER REALLY HAPPENS WITH HEI BAI!!?? where's my precious spirit bear?? Like Aang never really does anything with him and the replacement Koh story is boring and it sucks.

Bumi.... sorry I just didn't vibe with him at all.

Things I can't decide on:

Fancy spirit knife to kill the moon spirit annoyed me a bit, but I guess they wanted to Kuruk something to work with and a little bit more interaction with Aang which I get but idk. I really flip/flop on this one.

I've been very on the fence about having Azula (and Ozai) being in the show in season 1 in general. I'm not sure if it benefited either of their characters.

Azula & Ozai's dynamic - Okay, so, I think they're trying to give Azula more depth, right? They're trying to establish what it was like for Azula to live with Ozai and that she's also (like Zuko) trying to desperately prove herself to him, but Ozai using Zuko's... achievements to do that just felt so weird. I get he's doing it to manipulate her, but that just felt so wrong when in canon it's very obvious that Ozai just didn't give a single fuck about Zuko. Ozai pits Azula against Zuko by saying he's a failure, he's a bad bender etc. Azula is born lucky, Zuko is lucky to be born - like, Ozai says that to Zuko's face. I don't know if I am communicating this point very well, but it just didn't seem right to me??

Zuko vs Zhao in the Siege of the North... I genuinely do not know how to feel about it! I didn't love it, I didn't hate it. I don't know how to feel about Zhao telling Zuko that his mission is a sham and that Azula is the prized one... It feels like it's saying the quiet part out loud? In the OG we all know that Ozai sending Zuko on that mission was an excuse to get rid of him, but we can work that out, no one actually says it. And then Iroh just fucking killing him/mortally wounding him instead of the Iconic scene where Zuko reaches out to save him despite everything Zhao has done to him, but Zhao's own pride gets in the way from letting him accept help from Zuko.

Zuko’s crew being the 41st is not necessarily a bad thing at all!!! But I do just want to say that in the original, the attack goes ahead, and presumably, those soldiers die. It’s horrible. Zuko’s sacrifice is in vain, and it was always going to be in vain because the Fire Nation as it stands would not allow Zuko's compassion to win. Ozai would not allow it. While not necessarily a bad choice (all the soldiers bowing to Zuko on the boat was so sweet I loved it!) but I think it does take away some of the horror of Zuko’s story (same as it does with making Zuko fight back in my opinion) because the whole point is that Zuko did the right thing - and he was punished for it, and those soldiers died anyway.

anyway...

Okay!! got that off my chest. I know I just had a big whine here, but I still had a lot of fun watching this show. I think some of the backlash is a bit over the top and unwarranted. It was never going to stand up to the original - and that's okay.

Enjoy it for what it is!

#zuko #sokka #katara #aang #yue #iroh #zhao #azula #ozai #jet #koh the face stealer #wan shi tong #hei bai #natla #avatar the last airbender #atla netflix #avatar netflix #jack talks #live action series

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g1rld1ary · 2 months

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5 people james didn't mean to kiss (and one he did) ; james potter x fem!reader

➻ first james fic!! i love reviving old fanfic trends <33

➻ word count: 4494

➻ synopsis: says it on the tin baby!

➻ warnings: swearing, allusions to sex/dirty jokes, era typical homophobia (basically nonexistent)

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

James Potter was a very affectionate person, everyone knew that. His love language was absolutely physical touch — everyone knew that too. It was also assumed, therefore, that James Potter had an extensive list of kisses. That assumption wasn’t necessarily wrong, but a good chunk of them weren’t exactly what you imagined when thinking of the great James Potter kissing someone. They were often impulsive when he didn’t know how else to express his feelings. His very first kiss, for example, wasn’t exactly the cheesy, romantic soap opera that he often advertised providing for girls.

Sirius Black

The Marauders sat in their dorm room, early on in second year. While first year was packed with ridiculous adventures and the forming of their friendship group, second year brought a new awareness of girls, romance and especially kissing. That was the topic of discussion as the boys all packed into one bed, hypothesising about what it might be like. James and Sirius led the discussion with much bravado and false confidence whilst Peter looked decidedly scared. Remus, to his credit, just looked rather amused at it all.

“But where do you touch her?” James asked, eyes still wide and innocent and twelve years old, “I can’t just stand there with my hands at my sides like a twat!”

“Don’t be stupid, you hold her like this.” Sirius bent his arms in a direction that looked borderline painful. Remus huffed and climbed off the bed, pulling both the boys with him.

“If you’re gonna kiss a girl,” Remus instructed, “You have to hold her gently. Don’t push her around like she’s dead weight. James, put your arms around Sirius’ waist like that, now Sirius, you put your arms around his neck.”

“Pete’s gonna think we’re bent,” Sirius grumbled, a red hue on his cheeks.

“You are bent, you poof,” Peter quipped from his spot on the bed. He was right, of course, but that wouldn’t come to light until fourth year. James thought this was hilarious though, and began miming exaggerated — rather sloppy — kisses. And since James never failed to cure Sirius of his moods, he did the same. Remus rolled his eyes as the two boys acted out a passionate scene, loose tongues and all, until they were no longer acting.

All four boys in the dorm were frozen as James and Sirius’ mouths had accidentally connected in their stupidity, none of them sure what to do. Seconds passed as the two stood, lips locked against each other, no one daring to move. At least, until Remus let out a long, uncharacteristic wheeze, which dissolved into a fit of giggles that he would usually be mortified by, but there was no way he was outdoing the kiss anytime soon. Peter followed along momentarily, laughing so hard barely any sound actually came out, silent heaves punctuated by gasping breaths.

Released from their stupor both boys leapt apart, wiping their mouths with their forearms. Both had comical expressions of disgust, still slightly too stunned to verbalise any of it.

“We,” James heaved, “Can never speak of this again. Ever.” Sirius agreed in a heartbeat, still unable to completely wipe the blush from his pale complexion. He probably would have dwelled on those feelings if James wasn’t James, beginning to see the humour in it soon enough. By the end of the night it was an inside joke that would proceed to be referenced countless times within the walls of Hogwarts.

So although James would tell the story of his first kiss quite differently — he alleged it was with a Ravenclaw named Keeley a few weeks later, his proper first kiss will always have been with one Sirius Black in the Gryffindor dormitories on an otherwise unassuming Tuesday evening. And that secret was held onto dearly by all four marauders until, of course, Sirius’ best man speech at James’ wedding, where the anecdote received uproarious applause, loudest of all by James himself.

2. Remus Lupin

The Marauders had all known about Remus’ ‘furry little problem’ since their second year — first for the most perceptive of the bunch. Nevertheless, the group were insistent in helping Remus in any way they could, though it was a difficult task when his alter ego had no resistance to killing them. Until Sirius had come to them with the idea of becoming animagi. It was difficult no doubt, advanced magic far beyond the teaching at Hogwarts, but the four of them were exceptional wizards each in their own way, and the project seemed somewhat manageable with four brains chipping away at it over the course of two years.

When they finally did get it, hardly any of them could believe it, least of all Remus. He had never imagined that the human side of him was worthy of this much love and devotion, let alone the monster within him. However, despite how they tried to play it off, the achievement didn’t come easily to any of them. Sirius was the first to get it, big black dog accompanying the group around the castle and becoming an unexpected staple of the Gryffindor common room. You in particular liked to cuddle up with him on the couch and spoil him with head scratches when you were stressed from school — at least until the secret was revealed and you hit him upside his human head for deceiving you.

James was second to get it, though much less gracefully than Sirius. The whole group of Gryffindors had been hanging out together down by the Black Lake, enjoying the slowly warming weather after class one day. James had the misfortune of being sat between you and Lily, which made things very confusing for his hormonal body and brain. His eyes were trained on his hands, too afraid to actually talk to either of you and embarrass himself which was what usually happened. You and Lily, however, were hell bent on making that occur. While James had had a well known crush on Lily for the last few years, ever since you’d come back to school that year post-puberty you could both tell that James was both emotionally and physically confused. You both delighted in this and used it to your advantage, Lily finding him the most annoying man on earth and you delighting in his flustered expressions (secretly finding him actually pretty cute).

After thirty minutes of torture, James couldn’t take it. You’d made one too many dirty jokes directed at him and he was a blushing mess, fidgeting awkwardly between you and Lily laughing gleefully. He excused himself quickly and uncharacteristically quietly, hurrying off to be out of sight of his friends. You all laughed as you watched him go, and Remus reluctantly stood, muttering something about making sure James didn’t drive himself crazy.

Remus headed straight to the Forbidden Forest, knowing the privacy would be what James desired in the moment. Sure enough there he was, taking a moment to breathe against a tree.

“Easy there, Potter, don’t cum in your pants,” He joked, obviously amused by the whole ordeal. James turned quickly, devastated at Remus seeing him so sexually frustrated.

“Sod off, Lupin. It’s not my fault! They both just sit there looking so fucking good, talking about all these unholy things and you expect me to just be fine with it? It’s so—” Instead of the exasperated groan Remus expected, he was met with a stag standing tall in front of him. He couldn’t help his mouth dropping open, the animal far more magnificent than he could have expected out of the fourteen year old boy.

In a weird shift of figure the deer was back to boy, and James only had a moment of shocked stillness before he was whooping and yelling in the grass. Remus joined him, the two of them yelling and dancing around like idiots in their joy. James pulled him in for a hug, appropriately masculine until he pressed a kiss onto Remus’ lips, still grinning ecstatically as they pulled away. Remus scowled in a way he hoped was convincing.

“I hate it when you do that, Potter,” He grumbled as the two of them returned to their friends.

“Yeah, right,” James laughed, pushing his glasses up his nose. “It’s a blessing to be kissed by my sexy arse.”

3. Peter Pettigrew

While all four of the Marauders were undoubtedly exceptional wizards, that didn’t always translate into their grades. For example, being so ahead in the curriculum made James Potter get lazy, often submitting subpar essays simply because he figured it was already common knowledge and he was more interested in higher level magic. He always ended up with top grades from outstanding extra credit projects, but the point still stood.

Peter was similarly a great wizard. Perhaps not so much a prodigy like James or Sirius, and didn’t dominate the class ranks like Remus, but he did well for himself and was pretty exceptional in Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures. However, he was failing History of Magic. All four of them had chosen the subject for their OWLs, assuming it would be an easy O because of the ghost professor. They couldn’t be more wrong. Binns was a useless teacher and Peter especially found it difficult to teach himself the material just from the textbook, and was falling dreadfully behind, each essay earning a worse grade than the last.

James had offered to help tutor him before their exams, and the two buckled down in the library almost every day in the weeks leading up to exam season. Peter made pretty good progress, eager to catch up with his friends and prove he was on their level. Still, everyone was nervous for the test and its outcome.

When results were released, you and the Gryffindors were all together. Whilst you and the girls all got the reveal over and done with, the boys all waited with bated breaths. Most of the grades weren’t shocking — three of them knew they could easily get top grades from the little effort they put in, but they were all waiting on Peter’s History of Magic grade. The blond boy opened his paper with shaky hands, eyes scanning frantically over the information contained. Slowly he raised his head, nervous smile apparent.

“I got an A,” He said, and within an instant the boys were on top of him, congratulating him with strong hugs or by clapping him on the back. James grabbed both of his cheeks, pressing them together and pushing a kiss onto Peter’s lips.

“Prongs!” Peter moaned, pushing his face away half-heartedly.

“I’m just proud of you, Wormtail,” He cooed, appearing much like his mother whom you all adored.

“Oi, Potter,” You interrupted, waving your sheet of results around. “I got an O in Potions — where’s my kiss?” James immediately broke your eye contact, and you pretended you weren’t charmed by his embarrassed little smile. He mumbled a response that had his friends ripping him to shreds, egging him on whilst simultaneously teasing him and his alleged manhood. He pressed a gentle peck to your forehead and you raised an eyebrow.

“Not what I meant, but ok.”

4. Regulus Black

Regulus Black had a difficult relationship with the Marauders, to say the very least. By his fifth year — the rest of the boys’ sixth — Sirius had been at the Potter’s for months and Regulus was still reeling from the impact. He was noticeably quieter and more sombre than in years previous, and a dangerous resentment for his brother and his friends bubbled under his skin.

James Potter connected these dots quickly. However, he didn’t really know what to do about it. He wasn’t sorry that Sirius was living with him, but he didn’t like that Regulus was left all alone with their wicked parents, regardless of their personal differences. That brought James to you.

You sat together on the couch, his head resting next to your thighs, curls just brushing against your skin in a way that you couldn’t stop thinking about. He was lamenting about his mental struggles as you worked on your crochet, thinking quietly as he rambled on.

“Why don’t you just talk to him?” You asked suddenly, and James tilted his head to look up at you, holding back his laughter at your upside down appearance.

“What?” He asked, “I can’t talk to him, he hates me!”

“When has that ever stopped you before? Lily hates you and yet you bother her all the time,” You said, smile playing on your lips.

“That’s not true!” James protested, “I don’t bother her that much anymore!” You rolled your eyes playfully and turned back to your craft as James continued to ponder the situation.

As usual, he decided you were right. And so he sent a short letter to Regulus, asking for a meeting on the Astronomy tower at midnight. Surprisingly he’d agreed, and the two boys were standing awkwardly across each other on the tower. Regulus refused to start the conversation and so stood in silence, staring down James in an effort to scare him off. James wouldn’t be deterred.

“I just wanted to talk about what happened last year,” He said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose nervously.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“C’mon. I know we’re not friends, but I also figured none of your friends are the talking type either. So, I thought you could talk to me — full confidentiality. I don’t know, blame me, yell at me, I just don’t want you to do this all by yourself.”

“How sweet, Potter,” He sneered, “But I don’t need to talk about any of my feelings.”

James Potter was nothing if not persistent.

“Ok, well if you don’t want to talk, how about you listen?” To his surprise, Regulus stayed. One perfect eyebrow raised, he slowly sat next to James, legs dangling over the edge of the tower. After a gesture for him to go on, James started. He began to talk about the process of having Sirius live with him, the feelings they both had about it, and the guilt they both felt about leaving Regulus alone. At that Regulus looked up, eyes pooling with hope.

Then without any warning, Regulus was talking more than James had ever heard before, spilling what he supposed must have been the younger boy’s darkest secrets and vulnerabilities. James was unprepared, not actually expecting him to engage. At one point James had put a comforting arm around Regulus’ shoulder, words failing to express any of the feelings he had inside. Regulus didn’t pull away as James expected, instead only starting to cry. James just watched in disbelief as Regulus cried into his chest. Awkwardly, James arranged himself to press a gentle kiss to Regulus’ forehead right as Regulus moved to look up and speak, resulting in a ridiculous kiss between the two of them.

They jumped apart in less than a second, both with horrified looks on their faces.

“Oh my God—”

“That was an accident I swear—”

“I’m really sorry—”

“I was just trying to comfort you—”

Both boys stumbled over their words as they clambered up to their feet, putting a strictly heterosexual amount of space between them.

“Um, I’m just gonna go,” Regulus settled on, backing up towards the door.

“I’m seriously sorry, Black. It’s just something I do — doesn’t usually backfire like that.” Regulus just nodded, leaving quickly.

“Potter?” He stopped halfway through the door and James looked up. “Thanks.” James didn’t get any time to reply as Regulus was long gone, leaving him to cringe on his own. Neither of them would be telling anybody about the incident. Ever.

5. Lily Evans

You and James had been doing your will-they-won’t-they thing for a long time. Not quite since you met, but once you’d both started to notice the opposite sex you’d been participating in a battle of who could resist the longest. Teasing and cajoling were staples of your relationship. Whilst it had started as a way to pass the time; James had been in love with Lily since second year and you just liked to tease, at some point the feelings crossed over into a real and dangerous territory. However, neither of you wanted to do anything in case the feelings weren’t reciprocated, and truthfully hadn’t realised the true depth of them.

You and James were the only ones not to see the obvious: the feelings were absolutely reciprocated. It was tearing your friends apart, trying to get one of you to finally confess before you finished school forever. There were bets in place, pep talks and everything else the Gryffindors could think of to finally cause the event they’d been hoping for. Eventually, Lily had had enough.

One day you were all hanging out in your dormitory, most of you doing your homework and Marlene fiddling with a record player, trying to get it to come back to life.

“So, what would you guys think if I gave James a chance?” Lily asked, too coy to be genuine, but you were caught off-guard enough that you didn’t notice. “I mean, I know I’ve said some terrible things over the years, but now that he’s backed off he’s actually a really nice guy.”

“But… James?” You asked incredulously, essay immediately forgotten.

“Yeah, why not? He’s the hottest guy in our year, and if all goes to shit it’s only a few months until we graduate and I’ll never have to see him again.”

“But it’s James!” The rest of the girls had caught on to what Lily was scheming and delighted in joining in.

“Why shouldn’t she? It’s not like you like him, right?” Mary asked, studying your expressions. You hesitated for a moment, trying to find the right words. And just when they thought Lily had finally succeeded in getting the ball rolling you answered: “No, of course not. You go ahead, Lils.”

What started as a ploy to get you to admit your feelings only snowballed from there when Lily realised she couldn’t just back out now. And so she hatched a plan. Everything was going perfectly; Sirius and Remus had made sure the common room was devoid of younger students so no unhelpful rumours could be spread, and Marlene had been hanging out with you all evening to make sure you stuck to the schedule she’d devised.

With perfect precision, you and Marlene entered through the portrait just as Lily came down from the dorms.

“Hey, Potter,” She called, and James looked up curiously from his game of wizard’s chess. The redhead marched over to him, cupping both of his cheeks and kissing him strongly. Your jaw dropped open. You couldn’t believe Lily was just going for it like that, but even more you couldn’t believe the sick feeling creeping up from your stomach. You looked at Marlene, who only looked marginally less shocked. A glance around the room proved similar. Although they all knew Lily’s plan, it was two entirely different things to hear about her scheme to get the two of you together and seeing Lily Evans kissing James Potter.

“I’ve, uh, gotta go,” You mumbled, somehow finding your footing to run from the room, desperate to get anywhere where you didn’t have to see that, and the subsequent (or so you believed) union of a happy couple.

Lily pulled away from the kiss, eyes immediately trying to find you and she was puzzled when she couldn’t. A look at Marlene told her all she needed to know and her heart sank; she’d failed. James was looking a little more dazed than the head girl, and suddenly looked terribly awkward in his seat.

“Look, Lils. Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t feel that way about you anymore. There’s— there’s someone else, and I, I have to go.” With that James headed up to his dormitory, and the rest of your friends stood in a thick silence for several moments.

“I think I just made everything worse,” Lily said, and then the chaos started.

“What the fuck did you think was going to happen?” Sirius asked loudly, running a stressed hand through his hair.

“I don’t know! I just figured maybe they’d have an epiphany and both realise they’d rather be kissing each other!” Lily cried, throwing herself into an armchair.

You

Lily was right, she’d unintentionally made everything worse. You were upset at what you’d seen and the story you’d attributed to it, and even more so at your terribly timed realisation of your feelings. Because of this you’d started avoiding James in an effort to get over him, which only made you more miserable that you couldn’t talk to your favourite person. James, in turn, hadn’t seen you enter the common room on the night of the kiss and so believed —and dearly hoped — that you were blissfully ignorant, and so was equally perplexed and distraught at the space between you. He’d tried to approach you about it but you evaded him or turned him away every time.

“Hey, love, can we please—”

“It’s fine, James,” You interrupted him, “It was all just a bit of fun, right? All the flirting, the being touchy. But now you’re with Lily and I’ll back off, I get it, don’t worry. I wish you two every happiness.” You tried to sound as genuine as you could while sadness bit at your heart, and left James standing astounded in the corridor. Now he knew that you’d seen the kiss the issue was obvious, but the solution remained a mystery to him.

You’d taken to Marlene to get your feelings out, and she listened patiently as you rattled off a monologue about your childish jealousy and broken heart. Luckily, she’d discussed how to handle this with Lily — who knew you wouldn’t go to her because of her alleged involvement with James, and set off (hopefully) your friend’s last attempt to get you two together. She finally shook you out of it, frustrated with the lack of action.

“They’re not together,” She said, stopping you in your tracks.

“What?”

“They’re not together,” She repeated, making intense eye contact with you. “It was all this dumb plan Lily had to get the two of you together. She thought if you saw James getting with someone else you’d finally realise your feelings for him. And you did, but you were supposed to stick around to hear Potter reject her and say that he liked someone else, you.” You were shocked into silence, what could you say to that?

“So,” You started carefully, “What do I do now?”

James was in a similar situation with the boys.

“She saw Lily kiss me and now she thinks I like Lily when I like her! Plus, she won’t even be in my presence long enough for me to explain that it’s all just this huge misunderstanding and it’s her I want to be snogging!” James lay dramatically across his bed as the boys sighed.

“Prongs, isn’t it obvious?” Sirius asked and James cocked his head to the side, looking remarkably like a confused puppy. “Do something she can’t ignore. Make a grand gesture to prove your feelings for her.” James thought about it, it made sense. If you wouldn’t hear his explanation, he’d just have to make you.

“How?”

You and James went into the following Saturday with the same goal. It was Gryffindor’s quidditch semi-final, so there was a party being held whatever the outcome. It would be the first time you’d see each other since you’d realised your mistake since training was taking up all of James’ time.

Gryffindor had won, thankfully, which had both of you in higher spirits. The party was already in full swing by the time you got there, opting for a smoke first to calm your nerves. You’d spotted James almost as soon as you entered, always the heart and soul of a party. You marched towards him with a purpose, but as soon as he set eyes on you he jumped up to stand on a table. Someone had lowered the volume of the music — not silent, but low enough so you could hear him yelling over it. He said your full name, clearly and intentionally in a way that had surrounding people look at you curiously.

“I love you,” He said suddenly. “I am in love with you, not anyone else, and whatever made you think that’s not true was just a huge misunderstanding. Because I love you so much, and all I want to do is snog you until I’m the only name you remember, baby.” You let out a short laugh at his vulgarity and the cocky smirk that accompanied it, but a cheek-splitting smile won out when you thought about the preceding words and the sincerity he’d instilled in them. Before you even knew what you were doing you were racing towards him, gratefully taking Peter’s hand to join James on the table.

You honestly couldn’t tell who had initiated the kiss, but you were suddenly so intimately joined together it was like all the air had been sucked out of your lungs, compressing your body in an effort to fuse to his. His strong arms around you couldn’t shield you from the confetti being thrown around (for the match, of course, not just your kiss), nor the catcalls of your friends. You only pulled away when you felt James’ tongue start exploring a little too far, mindful that half the people you knew were watching. You wore matching grins as you parted, foreheads still pressed together and breathing heavy.

While it might have taken four years, innumerable (accidental) kisses and one failed set-up plan to get there, you were sure in your heart that James Potter was the only boy you ever wanted to kiss. And so you did, over and over for the years to come, and you cheered and applauded enthusiastically as the seemingly never ending list of friends and family told stories of receiving a coveted James Potter kiss throughout the years, knowing you were the only one who got to be his bride.

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lilirari · 5 months

Text

　　　　　　　　　𐙚 ⋆୨୧˚ THE SUN TO MY MOON ⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡

𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. after a messy break-up, y/n goes mia for three months and her fans start to worry about her. but then one day, she makes her comeback, happier than she ever was, as she releases a new romantic song dedicated to her new mysterious lover, 'the sun' which sends her fans into frenzy as they try to figure out who her muse is.

💌 lewis hamilton x fem! singer! reader (social media au)

# author's note : this has nothing to do with the latest news on njr btw as it's been in the works long before the official news about his split with his ex. but with that being said, i do not condone any of his actions. anyways, i loved making this & i hope you'll have fun reading it !

twitter 🫖

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yourinstagram

liked by lalalalisa_m, hoooooyeony, arianagrande and 111,320,129 others

yourinstagram in my healing era 💌

ps new music coming out soon !

view all 5,678,901 comments

lalalalisa_m 🩷

sooyaaa_ 🤍

roses_are_rosie love u xx

dualipa so pretty <3

conangray the queen is back !!

oliviarodrigo omg y/n new music !! 🥹

dior gorgeous !!

chanelofficial stunning !!

wkorea 🫶🫶🫶

adidasoriginals our favourite girl ☺️

troyesivan 😚

annehathaway 😘

calvinklein our ambassador everyone !!

user04 AAAHHH Y/N IS HOME THIS IS NOT A DRILL I REPEAT Y/N IS HOME !!!!

user10 omg girl we missed you so much 😭

user90 it girl vibes 🤍🎀

user45 MARRY ME Y/N

user57 WE LOVE YOU Y/N

user89 MOTHER IS BACK

user32 i love ur fit y/n !!

user81 y/n i know i can treat you better 😞

user38 Y/N NEW MUSIC SOON LFG !!!

user12 I HOPE THE NEW SONG IS A DISS TRACK JUST LIKE 'SOLO'

-> user54 solo isn't a diss track though ?? 😭😭

-> user12 i mean ok it's not like a rap diss track but she's still making fun of her prev ex and their break-up in it yk so it is kinda a diss track

-> user66 SO TRUE OP I NEED A SEQUEL TO SOLO

user11 where did you get that dress ??

user55 😍

user40 OUR PRINCESS !!! 🥹🥹

user29 Y/N NEW MUSIC OMG IT'S GOING TO BE HER REPUTATION ERA

user39 are we getting a sequel to USED TO BE YOUR GIRL NOW I'M USED TO BEING THE GOAT

-> user49 YOU'RE SITTING ON UR FEELINGS I'M SITTING ON MY THRONE

user77 y/n come back both in ig & the music industry ? best day of my life !!!

user22 we're going to get all the tea from this new song lmao

user19 Y/N THANK YOU FOR COMING BACK TODAY BEST BIRTHDAY GIFT EVER !!!

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blackpinkofficial

liked by yourinstagram, lewishamilton, sooyaaa_ and 50,444,980 others

blackpinkofficial y/n's 'you & me' is out now !

#Y/N #BLACKPINK #YOUANDME #OUTNOW #YG

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lalalalisa_m go y/n !!!!!

sooyaaa_ 🥰🥰🥰

roses_are_rosie we're always so proud of u 🩷

sabrinacarpenter 🌙🎀

mileycyrus ❤️

barbie our moon princess barbie !!

nail_unistella 🫶🫶

adidasoriginals i love you & me dancing in the moonlight 🤭

prada wow !! 🤍

nasa red moon only for y/n ❤️🌙

spotify been on repeat all. day. long 🗣️

carmenmmundt i love this song so much 😘

-> yourinstagram aww thank you carmen 🤍🎀

-> user11 ariana what are you doing here 🤨

-> user30 HOLD UPPP Y/N AND CARMEN KNOW EACH OTHER ???

-> user46 what in the multiverse of madness...

mercesdesamgf1 ☺️❤️

liked by yourinstagram

user25 AHHH I LOVE THIS SONG Y/N IT'S SO CATCHY

user34 SOTY SOTY SOTY

user69 if y/n has millions of fans, i am one of them. if y/n has ten fans, i am one of them. if y/n has only one fan, i am that fan. if y/n has no fans, that means i am no longer on earth. if the world against y/n, i am against the world.

user77 am i the only one confused with the song & its lyrics lol

-> user81 no you're not alone bestie 😭

-> user90 the way we all thought it was going to be y/n's reputation era.. 🤡

-> user77 we're all just part of a circus

user16 Y/N ATE AND LEFT NO CRUMBS

user48 gosh y/n you look so good in that red dress 😍

user52 THE DANCE PERFORMANCE WAS SO BEAUTIFUL I NEARLY CRIED

user33 what's carmen & the mercedes account doing in the comments and why did lewis like this post.. something is very sus and i intend to find out what it is 🧐🕵️‍♀️

-> user26 op sherlock holmes mode activated

-> user33 i am already digging through gossip accounts and articles

-> user24 maybe we're getting merc x y/n collab ? like a sponsor or something ?

-> user33 perhaps.. but something feels slightly off 🤔

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lewishamilton

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lewishamilton talking to the moon

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plus44world 🌙

mission44 🤩

roscoelovescoco roscoe's love's the's moon's !

user63 WHAT THE HECK LEWIS

user99 LEWIS SOFT LAUNCH ??? HELLO ???

user43 SIR LEWIS CARL DAVIDSON HAMILTON MBE HonFREng WHAT IS THIS

-> user45 HELP NOT THE GOVERNMENT NAME 💀

-> user01 THE NAME IS TAKING ME OUTTTTT

user65 the drawings in the second slide is so cute though 🥹

user11 DROP HER @ MAN C'MON WE WANNA KNOW WHO SHE IS

user23 did my eyes glitch or did i just see " liked by yourinstagram " for a hot second

-> user49 YOU'RE NOT ALONE @/user23 I THOUGHT I SAW HER NAME BUT WHEN I REFRESHED THE PAGE, THE LIKE WAS GONE

-> user29 I SWORE I SAW HER @ TOO BUT I THOUGHT I WAS BEING TOO DELULU

-> user26 y/n really thought we wouldn't catch her 😭

user34 NOOOO LEWIS IS TAKEN 😭

user75 icb this man is soft launching on us...

user33 this is extremely suspicious considering the interactions we've gotten in the past days .. and the fact that it's related to the moon and y/n released a song about dancing in the moonlight just a few days ago.. 🧐

-> user28 MY THOUGHTS EXACTLY !!!

-> user42 chill guys i don't think they're together.. they live in completely different worlds y'know

-> user06 mhm yeah that's true 😞 although it would've been so nice to see a singer and a driver together.. imagine the power they'd hold !

user44 i've connected the dots

-> user63 you didn't connect shit

-> user44 I'VE CONNECTED THEM

comments on this post have been limited

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f1gossip

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tagged lewishamilton

f1gossip lewis was caught leaving the paddock with a girl after the qualis today ! one of our followers who attended the qualis today provided these pictures. they could not get a clear view of the girl's face but they suspect that she's his girlfriend as they were holding hands and were also hugging each other. who do you think this mysterious girl is and could she be the one he posted on his account a few days back ?

view all 567 comments

user04 i did not expect tea on lewis today but i love it

user06 it's been a while since we've had a lewis dating rumour.. i hope she's his gf 🥹

user08 why does she look kinda familiar...

user10 she must be that girl he posted on his account

user28 ugh must be another girl just using him and his popularity for clout

user36 who cares ? she's probably just some girl who wants to mooch money & fame off of him

user40 why is it that every time a driver is seen with a girl or gets a new girlfriend, people automatically assume that the girl just wants fame and is just using the drivers for clout 💀

-> user56 fr like they've forgotten that a little thing called love exists..

user12 is it just me or does she look like that girl who was with lewis & george today

-> user14 yes she does

-> user16 who ?

-> user18 @/user16 they mean y/n y/l/n, a member of blackpink ! she was invited to the mercedes garage today !

-> user14 oh the pretty girl wearing that white top ?

-> user16 haha yeah that one

-> user14 honestly, if she & lewis aren't together then i'll gladly take her

-> user16 ure so real for this

user20 that's defo y/n

user22 must be y/n.. the height & hair matches and the fit looks pretty similar to what she wore today

user26 probably y/n.. lewis and her were talking like as if they've known each other for a long time and she already seems pretty close with the mercedes team, george and carmen too

user24 i hope it's y/n her & lewis would be such a hot couple

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mercedesamgf1

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tagged lewishamilton yourinstagram, georgerussell63

mercedesamgf1 it's race day out here in são paulo ! here's our drivers and our new mercedes ambassador, y/n, arriving to the paddock in style !

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yourinstagram looking forward to making great memories with you all ! 🤍

user47 OMGMGMGM Y/N MERCEDES AMBASSADOR !!!

user49 WE GOT OUR Y/N X MERCEDES COLLAB LFG

user99 YESSSS Y/N MERC AMBASSADOR CONFIRMED I LOVE THIS

user97 my favourite celeb & my favourite f1 team 🥰

user95 before any hate comments come in — y/n genuinely loves f1 and is not using it for clout !!!

user93 istg if anyone hates on y/n i will turn into ur biggest nightmare

user51 y/n serving face as always 🫶

user53 icb mercedes got the prettiest woman in the world to be their ambassador.. they really won in life

user55 y/n's paddock fits are always so good !!

user57 LEWIS WITH THE BRAZILIAN FLAG !! oh he loves brazil so much ☹️

user59 MANIFESTING LEWIS & GEORGE PODIUM TODAY

user61 lewis looks so happy 🥹🥹 he's home <3

user63 george = gorgeous

user65 george looks so good in those shades 😩

user67 our favourite mercedes trio !!!!

user69 i'm still trying to figure out who lewis was with last night lol

-> user71 LMAO SAMEEEE

-> user73 placing my bets on y/n tbh

-> user75 y/n seems like the most plausible option 🤔

-> user77 hope it's y/n her chemistry with lh is amazing

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yourinstagram 1 minute ago

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yourinstagram

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tagged lewishamilton

yourinstagram winner of the race & my heart 🖤

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lewishamilton i love you

-> yourinstagram i love you too baby

lewishamilton my pretty girl 🖤

liked by yourinstagram

lewishamilton when did you take that second picture ?

-> yourinstagram when you & george left for the briefing session yesterday ;)

-> lewishamilton you really can't go a minute without kissing me, can you ?

-> yourinstagram shh you don't have to expose me like this in public

-> lewishamilton oh i think it's definitely necessary for me to expose you like this in public bc your reactions are always so adorable

-> yourinstagram you're so mean you're lucky i love you 😕

-> lewishamilton yeah, i am pretty lucky, aren't i ? i won the heart of the girl of my dreams & won at my favourite track as an added bonus

-> yourinstagram the girl of your dreams, mhm ? 🫣🫣🫣

-> lewishamilton only you baby

-> yourinstagram i feel so special 🥰🥰🥰

-> landonorris and i feel sick after reading all these get a room !!! 🙄🙄

-> yourinstagram go back to your nap, lan

-> oscarpiastri well, i personally think that you & lewis are the best couple on the paddock, y/n

-> yourinstagram this is why oscar is my favourite child

-> landonorris hey that's not fair ! favouritism shouldn't be a thing amongst your children !!

-> lewishamilton lando, don't argue with my girlfriend

-> landonorris ok sorry dad 😞

georgerussell63 why are you wearing a mclaren cap ? 🤨

-> yourinstagram that's not a mclaren cap it's a normal orange cap 😭

-> georgerussell63 i can literally see 'mclaren' written on the side, y/n

-> yourinstagram ok fine i stole it from lando's bag since the sun was bothering me i'm still loyal to merc i promise

-> landonorris you did WHAT

-> yourinstagram oops i've said too much..

-> landonorris y/n get back here !!

-> yourinstagram 🏃‍♀️

carmenmmundt my gorgeous girlfriend 🤍

liked by yourinstagram

lalalalisa_m please treat our sister well, @/lewishamilton !

-> roses_are_rosie or else we're going to partner up with red bull or ferrari and make your team cry

-> lewishamilton haha, don't worry girls i'll treat her properly like the queen she is

-> sooyaaa_ good ☺️

alexandrasaintmleux y/n vous êtes si belle 🩷

charles_leclerc don't forget about my signed album 🤭

-> yourinstagram it's on the way ! 🫡

oscarpiastri my parents, everyone !

-> yourinstagram my son 🥹

-> lewishamilton we love you son

-> landonorris wow i feel so loved 🧍

roscoelovescoco i's love's you's mum's

-> yourinstagram aww i love you too my baby coco 🥹

mercedesamgf1 y'all wish you had y/n, huh ? 😏

-> scuderiaferrari yeah

-> redbullracing yeah

-> mclaren yeah

-> astonmartinf1 yeah

maxverstappen1 congratulations to lewis for the win & to both of you for officially making your relationship public!

-> yourinstagram aww thanks maxieeee :( <3

user01 HELP NOT THE OTHER F1 TEAMS BEING JEALOUS OF LEWIS & MERCEDES

user87 SO IT WAS YOU !!!

user85 LEWIS IS THE SUN TO HER MOON YOU GUYS 😭

user83 so y/n wrote you & me for lewis.. couple goals fr

user81 i don't know if i want to be y/n or lewis here

user79 YESSSS THE IT COUPLE !!! FINALLY !!!

user77 that third picture of lewis is so cute his smile 🥹🥹🥹

user75 I LOVE YOU AND ME DANCING IN THE MOONLIGHT

user73 I KNEW ITTTTTTTT

user11 YOOOOO OMG Y/N & LEWIS ??? WHATTTTTT

user21 THEY LOOK SO GOOD TOGETHER IT'S INSANEEEE

user23 her exes never really got a romantic song or even a post dedicated to them.. lewis really is her special person

user25 NOOOO Y/N IS NOT SINGLE ANYMOREEEEE my parasocial relationship with her is gone now 😭😭 (in all seriousness though, congrats lewis you bagged the woman of the century)

user27 i hope they'll last forever 🤞

user29 the best thing to happen this year

user28 THE WAY Y/N AND LEWIS ADOPTED THE MCLAREN TWINS OMG 😭😭

user26 y/n & lewis being referred to as mum & dad and oscar & lando being their children.. i love this silly formula 1 family so much

user24 they're my roman empire !!

user44 @/user63 SEE I TOLD YOU I CONNECTED THE DOTS

-> user63 ... i hate to admit this but i was wrong 👩🏻‍🦯

user20 THAT OUTFIT IS SO FIRE

user18 MOTHER IS MOTHERING !!!!

user22 no bc y/n looks so genuinely happy with him.. as someone who's followed her since her trainee & rookie days, i'm so proud and happy for her :( she deserves only the best <3

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lewishamilton

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lewishamilton forever grateful to the moon 🖤🌙

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869 notes · View notes

hotvintagepoll · 21 days

Text

Propaganda

Cyd Charisse (The Bandwagon, Brigadoon, Singin’ in the Rain)—LEGS LEGS LEGS I would sell my soul for the legs of Cyd Charisse - she oozed style and glamour and sex appeal!! And she could DANCE! She was dancing next to the greats - Gene Kelly, Fred Astaire but they are never who you're looking at because why would you when you can look at her. I will only sit through too long ballet breaks for her. If there was any woman who you could call sex on legs it was her. These dances are everything to meeee (she comes in at the minute mark) and this dance too of course is iconic. In the words of Fred Astaire 'When you've danced with Cyd Charisse you stay danced with'

Rosaura Revueltas (Salt of the Earth)—She was a Mexican actress who is best known for starring in salt of the earth, an amazing pro-labor movie made by blacklisted filmmakers. She also starred in the Mexican remake of madchen in uniform, one of the first representations of lesbian romance onscreen. She was really dedicated to making progressive films and was also such an incredible actress and artist I truly believe more people should know about her and her work.

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Cyd Charisse:

Arguably the Best female dancer of her time, she supposedly insured her legs for $5 million dollars. Stole the show whenever she had a dance number, even if she went uncredited. Musicals started to go out of fashion so unfortunately she didn't have as many big roles as she should have, but those she did are unforgettable. The Broadway Melody number in Singin' in the Rain - the green dress!

Incredibly, Cyd Charisse only started learning to dance as a rehab exercise to strengthen her body after a childhood bout of polio. She was in high demand as a dance partner, Fred Astaire called her beautiful dynamite and said "When you've danced with her, you stayed danced with". She was one of a few leading ladies to dance with both Astaire and Kelly, declaring them both delicious. Kelly apparently was stronger, while Astaire was more coordinated. She also said her husband would always know who she had been dancing with because Kelly left her bruised, while Astaire didn't leave a mark. She's better known for her dance numbers today, but she was a leading lady in her time! Her Scottish accent in Brigadoon leaves a lot to be desired, but compared to the other actors in the movie, it's almost good. She appeared in The Harvey Girls alongside Judy Garland and Angela Lansbury in her first speaking role, but she really burst onto the scene with Singin' in the Rain and her infamous Broadway Melody Ballet number with Gene Kelly (no one could handle a length of fabric like Cyd Charisse). She was brought in because Debbie Reynolds wasn't really a dancer and Kelly was notoriously a stickler about his Vision. After that she starred opposite Astaire in The Band Wagon, which was a bit of a flop but created some enduringly incredible dance numbers. She went on to star in a number of MGM movies, and was one of the last of the Studio era stars to remain on contract. Since we've got up to 1970, I'm including her opening routine in The Silencers (1966) to show just how long she was making a splash - she's into her 40s here and still a siren:

youtube

and of course, the iconic Broadway Melody Ballet -

youtube

Photos do not do Cyd Charisse justice, unfortunately, because she is at her hottest while dancing, which she was exquisitely good at. Just go watch her first number in Singin' in the Rain, in that green dress; nothing I could say here will be more convincing that that.

She had amazing legs, and she knew how to use them! You probably know her best from the dream sequence in Singin' In The Rain. She was such a stunning dancer, and all her dance scenes are hard to look away from.

Dancing in the Dark clip:

youtube

She's an amazing dancer and my favorite from the period. Here's her and Fred Astaire in the Band Wagon:

youtube

I just like a woman who's there to be really incredibly good at dancing.

One of the most talented female dancers in Hollywood history, but what sets her apart from other competitors for that title is that she...umm...well let's be blunt, she was the dancer who put sex into it. The one who said "Hey, you know that A+ leg tone that naturally develops from doing this for a living? Why don't I let people see that? Like at every opportunity?" She reportedly insured her legs for five million dollars after hitting it big, which just goes to show that fame makes you crazy. It should have been ten million.

She could pirouette in pointes or tear it up in taps. Fred Astaire called her "beautiful dynamite" and wrote, "That Cyd! When you've danced with her you stay danced with." Gene Kelly partnered with her three times. Her legs were (reportedly) insured for $5 million in 1952 ($57.8 million in 2024 dollars)! Everyone in this poll will be iconic, but for raw physical grace, Cyd is up there with the best.

Legs for days, beautiful dancer in the most iconic scenes of Singin in the Rain. She's glorious. As some guys sung to her in It's Always fair weather, 'baby you knock me out!'

No additional propaganda was submitted for Rosaura Revueltas. Please send me some.

#Rosaura Revueltas #cyd charisse #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 3

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finelinevogue · 1 year

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he’s just harry

summary - a couple of fan interactions with harry on the streets of london

word count: +1.1k

pairing: boyfriend!harry x reader

Even though the media make it out that Harry hates being out in public on his days off, you know it is actually one of his favourite things to do.

Especially with you.

Harry is known for being a private man, but he can’t help what fans secretly record and post on the internet. He would do the same for Stevie Nicks and you would do the same for Taylor Swift, so neither of you are opposed to reporting anyone for secretly filming.

A favourite pastime of yours and Harry’s is to actually watch back story-time videos of fans, from when they have met you and Harry. Which is what you were both currently doing, after having your dinner.

Harry is laying on the bed in your shared hotel room. You lay against his back and are held tight to him by his arm wrapped around your waist.

He leans down to look at you every few minutes and leaves a kiss on your forehead, just because he can. His fingers around your waist snake under your Pleasing sweatshirt - the one that is actually his - and stroke tiny circles on the skin of your tummy.

With some light jazz music playing in the background, you and Harry can’t feel anything but peace.

He has your phone in his hand whilst he scrolls through the latest videos on TikTok with the tag # harrystyles.

The next video he scrolls to after and edit of himself on stage is from a meeting of a fan in London.

“I just met Harry Styles.” The girl screams from the inside of her car. The video pans around and her boyfriend is sat there with a grin, no doubt because his girlfriend is so happy.

“I get to say that every day.” You comment, making Harry pinch the skin at your waist. You laugh and carry on.

“Can I just say, first of all, I have been waiting for this moment for years. Always in my mysterious girl era, just in case. And the one day I am wearing slouchy clothes I stumble upon him on a random back road in London. Life clearly hates me.” She begins her story.

“She looked great, I thought.” You said and Harry made no comment. Most likely because he never paid attention to looking at anyone with interest anymore - not since he had found you.

“And Y/N. Oh my God! She’s fucking stunning. Like, I understand why Harry snatched her up.”

“I did find a pretty good egg.” Harry agreed.

“I am not an egg.”

“Whatever you say, baby.”

“But they were both so lovely. Harry was really kind and thanked me for supporting him. I asked for a photo but they politely declined, which is a little frustrating, but maybe it was for the best since I looked so bad today!” The girl continues her story.

“Fuck sake.” Harry mumbles out and you pause the video, already knowing what thoughts were relaying through his mind.

You turned your head so you could see his whole face before speaking to him.

“You’re not a bad person for not taking a photo with them. You shouldn’t make yourself feel bad either. You’re a person, just as they are. People are allowed to close off their privacy for the day if they want. Okay?”

“Thank you.” Is all Harry responds with. Well, that and a minutes worth of kisses.

You move onto another video, so not to upset Harry any more with the previous one. You couldn’t know whether she might say something else bad and you weren’t prepared to make Harry sad, so the next video it was.

This came from a girl in London airport.

“Oh fuck.” Harry instantly says when he sees the girl on the screen.

“What?” You asked, confused. You hadn’t even been aware this interaction had taken place and you were with him in the airport. Now you were just curious as to what had gone down.

“This is going to be so embarrassing for me.” He wines and tries to bury his face in your neck. You kiss the tip of his nose and push him away.

The video starts by the girl looking really nervous, before Harry pans into view on the other side of the screen. It was only their chins in the view, but it was still a very lovely view of your boyfriend.

“Hi.” The girl fumbles over her words.

“Hello.” He says, removing his sunglasses from his face since he had been found.

“I just saw you from over there and had to come and say hello. I know this is probably really annoying for you and I’m going to leave so as to not be a burden to you, but I really love your music and you are an amazing human being.” The girl rambles, but that might be the nicest of things you have heard a fan say to Harry.

Before the girl can leave, Harry asks that all important question.

“Thank you so much. Would you maybe like a photo?” He asks.

“Aw Harry.” You pout and he pinches your waist again. “Quit that, will you?” You hit elbow him in his ribs gently.

“Yes please. Wow, thank you.” The video then tilts so Harry and this girl come onto the screen. Harry smiles a small smile and holds up his fingers in a peace sign. He looks very cute.

“Have a safe flight.” Harry says and goes to hold his hand out for the fan to shake, but instead knocks her phone out of her hand and it drops to the floor.

“Harry!” You gasp and sit up a little more attentively.

“I know.” He cringes.

Luckily the phone was alright, but Harry had to prolong the conversation with the fan and even offered her a new one. She turned that down and thankfully he didn’t have to owe anything to anyone. You can tell at the end of the video he is embarrassed though.

“You dickhead.” You laugh at him.

He puts the phone down and joins his other hand under your sweatshirt so they are both enjoying tracing over your skin. You hum in delight and breathe in the air that is scented by him.

“I’m tired.” He says, knocking his head against yours to rest. It had been a long day of rehearsals and meetings for him today, but he didn’t mind because he knew that it would be worth it to spend an evening of peace with you.

“I know, baby.” You say, reaching a hand up behind your head to stroke over his curls. “We can go to bed now, if you want?”

“Okay.”

You and Harry end up spending the next twenty minutes getting ready for bed and cuddle before you are both fast asleep, awaiting the first, last, ‘Love On Tour’ show tomorrow.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles boyfriend #love on tour #love on tour fic #finelinevogue fic

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lecsainz · 6 months

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FOOTBALL GAME

parings: daniel ricciardo x kelce!reader

author note: it's official, I'm entering my NFL era... taylor swift, what have you done?!?! 😭

summary: the one where you're the younger sister of the kelces and you go to a travis game and end up meeting daniel ricciardo.

✩. . . masterlist !

Y/N is the Kelce siblings' little sister, the protected one, adored by her entire family. Her three older brothers loved to tease her whenever they could. Nonetheless, Y/N loved being the youngest, except for the overly protective nature of her brothers. Shawn, Jason, and Travis delighted in intimidating any guy who came near their sister, and this had been the story of her life. The fact that Jason and Travis were professional football players didn't help either. Despite it all, she knew her brothers just wanted her to stay safe and find the right person. And that happened in the most unlikely way.

Y/N was at the Chiefs game, just like any other game, or so she thought. She had chosen to stay in the stands; Y/N wasn't in the mood to be in the player's family area today, especially after the appearances of her supposed new sister-in-law, Taylor. The fans had become obsessed with recording and looking for the singer-songwriter there. Today, Y/N wanted a peaceful afternoon. She had never been fond of being in the spotlight and was grateful that her brothers were the stars, not her.

As Y/N settled into her seat, she couldn't help but relish the anonymity she usually enjoyed in the stands. She liked to be just another face in the crowd, free from the constant attention that came with being a Kelce. But little did she know that this particular game was about to take an unexpected turn.

The energy in the stadium was electrifying, and as the game progressed, Y/N found herself getting more and more engrossed in the action. The Chiefs were playing exceptionally well, and the crowd's excitement was contagious. Amidst the cheers and chants, she almost forgot about her desire for a quiet day.

That's when it happened. Y/N was caught up in the moment, jumping to her feet as the Chiefs scored a touchdown. As she celebrated, an unfortunate collision occurred. Out of nowhere, a cup of beer was knocked from someone's hand, drenching her from head to toe. She gasped in surprise and shock, realizing her white Chiefs jersey was now soaked.

Furious and stunned, she turned to see who was responsible for this mess, and her eyes met a face she couldn't believe – it was none other than the famous Formula 1 driver Daniel Ricciardo, who was attending the game because of his Formula 1 race in Texas.

Y/N's frustration boiled over, and she shouted, "Are you kidding me? You just ruined my jersey!" Her irritation was palpable, and the entire section fell silent as all eyes turned to her and the unsuspecting Daniel Ricciardo.

As crowd silence hung in the air, Y/N could feel her face heating up with embarrassment and anger. She had no idea who this man was, only that he was the one who had turned her game day experience into a mess. But what she didn't know was that Daniel Ricciardo was not only a Formula 1 superstar but also known for his charm and charisma.

Daniel, caught off guard by her fiery reaction, was momentarily stunned. He glanced at the drenched jersey and then back at Y/N, a sheepish grin forming on his face. "Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry," he stammered. "I was just so caught up in the game, and I... I didn't mean to do that."

Y/N couldn't help but notice that, despite the situation, Daniel had an irresistible smile. It was clear that he was genuinely apologetic, and she couldn't stay mad at him for long. Still, she didn't know who he was, and her irritation was evident in her response. "Well, an apology won't dry my jersey, will it?"

At that moment, Max Verstappen, who was seated next to Daniel, couldn't contain his laughter any longer. He burst into fits of giggles, watching the entire interaction. "Mate, you've really done it this time!" Max said between laughs.

Y/N, despite herself, found Max's laughter contagious and couldn't help but chuckle along. "I can't believe you've got your friend here laughing at your blunder," she teased Daniel, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Daniel, red-faced and still grinning, extended his hand toward her. "I'm Daniel, by the way, and I promise I'll make it up to you somehow."

Y/N accepted the hand with a half-smile. "Y/N, nice to meet you. Just don't spill anything else on me."

Max chimed in, still amused. "Well, I think you've made quite the impression, Daniel.”

Max's playful comment only added to the amusement of the moment. As Y/N and Daniel continued to converse, they discovered an unexpected chemistry between them. His initial mistake had broken the ice, and they found themselves discussing everything from their favorite sports to their shared love for adventure.

As the game progressed, Y/N's initial irritation had turned into a delightful afternoon spent in the company of a charming stranger. She had completely forgotten about her drenched jersey and the chaotic start to their interaction.

As the final whistle blew, the Chiefs emerged victorious, and the crowd erupted in cheers. Daniel leaned closer to Y/N, and with a grin, he said, "You know, I've had an eventful day, and it's all thanks to you. Can I get your number? Maybe I can make it up to you with dinner or something?"

Y/N was taken aback for a moment, not expecting such a bold move. But his sincerity and the connection they had formed throughout the game were hard to ignore. She couldn't help but smile and replied, "Sure, why not? I think I'd like to see what other trouble you can get me into."

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specialagentlokitty · 1 year

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Zuko x reader - one more time

Hey can I get a Zuko x reader where the it’s Legend of Korra era but what it is is that Korra or Bolin just anyone in the main group ask about his past s/o who was the reader and he talks about them in a sad old man way taking about his deceased lover 😭 thank you - Anon 💜

Korra had been trying to figure everything out, and she realised the only connection she had to Aang, the one that knew him when he was going through the same thing was Zuko.

So she visited him, and spent as much time as she could asking questions, asking for advice and help.

“I’m sorry Korra, but this is not something I’m so good at, (Y/N) was better at giving advice than I ever could have hoped to be.”

“(Y/N)? You’re partner?” Korra asked.

Zuko nodded his head and gestured for her to follow him.

He led her through a lavish garden, nearly cared for, and when they reached the middle he showed her a large statue and Korra stared at it.

You were absolutely stunning, you looked young, beautiful, elegant, yet powerful and a fair ruler.

“Wait.. I think.. I think I spoke to them. In the spirit realm.”

“You did?”

They both sat down in the bench opposite the statue of you.

“Yeah, they were the one that told me to come speak to you, that you would know what to do.” She said.

Zuko smiled and chuckled softly as he stared up at the statue in fondness.

“They always said I knew what to do, even if I didn’t realise it straight away.”

Korra looked at the former fire Lord, and she looked up at the statue of you.

“What were they like?” She asked softly.

Zuko smiled softly, turning his head to the floor before he looked back up at the statue.

“They were… they were strong, stubborn, like Katara, but peaceful and loving like Aang. They saw the beauty in everything around, but they were one of the bravest people I had ever met.”

Korra listened carefully as Zuko told her all about you.

He told her stories from when you two first met, how you had left the nation to fight with Aang, and you would always mock him for not being able to defeat you.

Then how he fell in love with you, on the day of the war ended, while he was fighting with his sister you risked your life for not only Katara, but for him too.

He loved your stubbornness, and your smiled that could light up a room on the darkest night.

“They were more then anything I could’ve ever asked for, they gave me the love and the forgiveness I never have asked for from anyone else…”

Zuko sighed, running his finger alone the lone wedding band on his finger.

“They were the love of my life and more…”

Korra reached out, placing her hand on his arm, making him look at her.

“You’ve done them proud, they told me how proud they were of you, and how much they miss you.” She said.

He smiled softly and looked at her.

“Really?”

“Yeah, of course.”

He nodded his head and looked at your statue before turning to the young avatar.

“Do you think you can talk to them again?”

“I.. don’t know. Maybe.”

“If you do please give them this. I was going to give it to them on the our anniversary before they passed, I’ve carried it ever since.”

He handed over an old letter, and she took it, slipping it into her pocket.

“Of course, will you tell me more about them?”

Zuko smiled and carried on talking, and Korra just sat there listened to his stories.

She knew he was lonely, she heard from Katara how you were never without one another.

To loose your lover so early and have to go on through life without them? She couldn’t imagine how lonely and how painful it must be.

She heard the way he talked, the sadness in his voice, the tears brimming his eyes as all he could do was stare at the statue.

Korra looked at the statue and she saw something behind it, and all she could do was stare at the spirit.

She didn’t need to compare the looks to know immediately who it was.

She watched as you walked over and sat in front of your statue, resting your elbow on your knee, and you rested your chin on your palm as you smiled at Zuko.

“Ask him to tell you about the time he proposed to me.” You whispered softly.

“Can you tell me about the time your proposed to (Y/N)?”

“You really want to hear about that?”

Katara flicked her eyes to your spirit, and you gently nodded your head.

“I.. (Y/N) wants to hear it.”

“They’re here?”

Zuko knew the avatar could see spirits, talk with them, and he knew since the spirit realm was opened more and more were pouring through.

He never thought that you would come through though.

“They’re here…” she smiled.

Zuko looked around and Korra pointed to where you were sat, and all she could do was smile as he smiled to himself.

“It was supposed to be elegant, I had a large ball planned, everyone was invited, everyone was waiting for me. (Y/N) wore the most beautiful clothes you had ever seen, made out the finest silk you could ever see. I was walking down the stairs, and I tripped, falling the rest of the way and I knocked (Y/N) over along the way.” He laughed.

You laughed as well and nodded your head.

“I was so embarrassed I quickly left and (Y/N) followed me, out to this very garden and we stood in very spot. They kissed me, and told me that it was okay, and I asked them there and then if they would marry me.”

He twisted the wedding band on his finger.

“They teased me and kept putting off the answer, and I went to walk away thinking it was them rejecting me… I tripped again…”

“But they said yes.” Korra smiled.

“They did. But not before laughing at me first.” He chuckled.

Korra watched as his face turned to sadness.

“It was the best marriage I could’ve ever ask for… but they got sick… they tried to fight, to hold on but they wouldn’t do it anymore. They passed away in their sleep, they never got to watch our children grow up, they never saw the kingdoms grow closer.”

Korra couldn’t handle it anymore, she knew she shouldn’t do this, but she felt like she owed it to Zuko, for everything he’d done.

“Close your eyes.” She said softly.

Zuko did as he was told and she placed a hand on his head, whispering something she stepped away.

“I.. I don’t know how long it’ll last, but I hope this helps.”

She handed him the letter he gave her and stepped a few steps back, watching him open his eyes and he stared directly at you.

He smiled and you stood up, walking over to touch his face.

Maybe she was breaking a lot of rules, but Korra knew he was breaking inside without you, he’d been so alone without you for so long she wanted him to have some time with you, even if it was just a few minutes

#avatar the legend of korra #Zuko #Zuko x reader #zuko x y/n #zuko x you #Zuko imagine

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pitchsidestories · 12 days

Text

eras of us (2) II Ona Batlle x Reader

part 1 I masterlist I word count: 2662

a/n: the second and final part to eras of us with the promised happy ending, enjoy. <3

Barcelona had changed since Onas departure. Or at least it felt like it. She had been such an integral part of your daily life that you constantly found yourself longing for her presence in every situation. Every time you went to training, you were painfully reminded that you were without your best friend.

Time and time again, you tried to convince yourself that this was a decision that every football player would have to make at some point in their career. Still, you could not shake the weird mix of feelings that her transfer had created.

Of course, your team mates noticed that your mood had changed.

After a particular hard training in the Catalonian sun, Leila took you aside before you could disappear into the dressing room: “Ona… she misses you.“

You frowned at her, not sure where the conversation about Ona had come from. “Oh, sure. I think Ona seems very happy on the recent pictures she’s been posting.“, you replied and tried to push past Leila.

Mapi passed the two of you and gave you a wink: “Looks can be deceiving.“

“Listen to her. She’s got that tattooed.“, Leila grinned.

You rolled your eyes. As if anyone could miss the tattoo on Mapis throat.

“Yeah, I know what I’m talking about.“, Mapi laughed, stopping right next to you.

Shaking your head about your two team mates, you heaved a deep sigh: “But what am I supposed to do?“

A mischievous smirk appeared on Leilas face as she reached into the pocket of her warm-up jacket. She handed you a small envelope.

“No worries. Here is your ticket to Manchester and your return ticket to Barcelona.“

Speechless, you just stared at her and Mapi for a few seconds. How long had they planned that?

“You girls are insane!“, you finally exclaimed.

“No, we’re the best.“, Mapi corrected you.

“Thank you!“ You hugged both of them quickly, an inexplicable smile on your lips.

“Yeah, just remember to names us as team mates of the year.“, Leila joked.

You laughed: “I promise I will.“

“But now go before you miss your flight.“, Leila said, moving out of your way.

“Okay, got it. See you two soon!“, you called, hurrying into the dressing room to take a quick shower and race home to pack your suitcase.

“Good luck!“, Mapi shouted after you.

Smiling, Leila watched you disappear into the dressing room while wiping away an imaginary tear: “Our children grow up so fast.“

Alexia who had suddenly appeared next to Mapi, shook her head: “Leila, not all the gays in the team are your children.“

“It feels like they are.“

A few hours later you were at your best friend’s new home in England. Quickly you went up the stairs, feeling slightly breathless once you reached the right floor before you ringed the bell next to her surname plate.

Onas’s jaw dropped when she opened the door to her appartement in Manchester to see you standing there in flesh and bone:” Hello?”

“Oni, hi.”, you greeted her back, feeling your heart pound heavy against your chest at the familiar sight of her.

Still stunned she blinked: “You.”

“Yes, it’s me.”, you replied, running one hand through your hair, the other rested on the suitcase.

“What are you doing here?”, the defender furrowed her brows.

“I’m sorry how I reacted when you were saying you’d leave.”, you apologized, while looking guiltily down to your feet.

Hearing these words, Ona clenched her teeth:” It doesn’t matter.” But you could tell from her reaction that this was a lie.

“And Leila said you missed me.”, you added biting your lip as you spoke.

“Maybe I did. You’re my best friend.”, she confessed. Lifting your head to face her again, you realized that the English weather made her look paler, but the freckles were still there.

Rather childish you responded: “Still? You seem pretty happy in Manchester now.”

Before answering your question, the United player showed you the old friendship bracelet you’ve made for her all those years ago and she was wearing even now although it did look old: “Still. And I’m happy here. The team and the coaches trust me.”

“That’s great. I’m glad they recognize your talent, you deserve it, Oni.”, you told her in an honest tone.

“Thank you. Uhm.. do you want to come in?”, Ona asked you, tousling shily through her bun.

“Sure.”, you nodded nervously while entering her appartement.

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting a visitor.”, she blushed as you were taking in the view.

“It’s fine. Really.”, you reassured her. Glancing at the framed pictures which were not hanging up, yet you pointed to them:” Do you want to hang up the pictures?”

“Actually, yes.”

Meanwhile you were holding the first photo in your hands, you couldn’t help but to smile at the young girls which were pictured, celebrating a team win:” I love this one.”

“Oh, me too.”, the defender admitted.

“We all look so small on it, well Aitana still is.”, you commented grinning.

Seeming relaxed, Ona showed you another picture: “Yes, we do but this one is my favourite.”

You knew the photo well, it was taken after your first game for the Barcelona senior team and you spotted your best friend in the stands and went in to hug her, this moment forever being captured by the photographer on the pitch for which you were both grateful:” Mine too, you paused for a second before continuing seriously, we share a lot of memories together, hopefully to many more.”

2023

You could hardly explain to yourself how quickly the time had passed. One moment you spontaneously flew over to Manchester, the next you already found yourself in Australia at the tournament that you had anticipated for so long.

Playing in the World Cup was one thing, but you would never have dreamed of winning the trophy. It still felt surreal. You had just won the World Cup Final against England.You saw Ona walking towards you with a wide grin on her face.

“Ona, we won!“, you cheered.

She wrapped her arms around you: “We did.“

“I can’t believe it yet.“ You escaped her embrace and took in the atmosphere of the stadium and the celebration of your team mates.

Ona stood beside you. “It’s insane, right?“

“Definitely.“

The words hung between you for a few seconds as you watched on.

Ona shook her head suddenly, smiling to herself like she had just realized what had happened in the previous ninety minutes: “We’re World Champions.“

“Oh yes. Remember when…“, you started.

Aitana joined you, placing one arm around each of you and finished your sentence: “We pretended we won the World Cup? Yes.“ With smirk she added: “Do you still know the choreo?“

Onas face dropped: “You’re not going to do that at the actual World Cup!“

“Come on, Tana, we’ll do it.“, you said decisively, pulling the midfielder with you.

There was a small routine of dance moves that you had practiced when you had still played at La Masia together and the actual World Cup felt like millions of years away. Sometimes those dance moves would come out to celebrate a particularly special goal but mostly, they were reserved for exactly this moment.

“Coming!“, Aitana joined you while Ona just shook her head.

Olga elbowed the defender in the side, watching you and Aitana dance in synchrony: “Ona, what are they doing?“

“Being idiots.“, she laughed.

At the same time, Aitana managed to pull her phone from somewhere to capture the moment in a selfie.

“Come on, the photo isn’t complete without you!“, you called over to her.

Ona rolled her eyes with smile: “Ugh, fine. But only for one photo.“

“Perfect.“, Aitana commented as Ona appeared between the two of you.

“Did it turn out cute?“, Ona asked, leaning over to see her team mates phone screen.

“It did.“

The celebrations continued the whole night. There was the initial celebration at the pitch which was then moved to the dressing room and lastly to the hotel. You had no idea what time it was or how many drinks you had but you were clinking your glass with the other players and yelling over the sound of the music: “Cheers, everyone!“

“Cheers, children.“, Alexia laughed, taking her sip from her own drink. She seemed way too sober for your liking.

“Ale, others are the children now.“, you explained to her with the most seriousness you could muster.

Jenni took a shot, grimaced and then said: “You’re still our children.“

“Exactly, nothing will ever change that.“, Alexia said with a gently smile.

“That’s embarrassing.”, Onas’s cheeks turning redder than before.

You were sitting in her lap and hid your face in her chest:” Agreed.”

“What are you doing?”, your friend asked giggling.

“Hiding from embarrassment.”, you mumbled into her shirt.

“So cute.”, Jenni hummed, who didn’t stop looking at you two.

“Let us alone!”, Ona begged the older woman.

She shook her head decisively:” No.”

“Please.”, you tuned in.

Clearing her throat Alexia got up from her seat:” Jen, time to leave the young lovers alone.”

“Fine.”, Jenni responded with a groan but nonetheless listened to what the younger midfielder said.

“Come on.”, the Barcelona player winked at the dark-haired woman.

For a moment you and your best friend watched them leaving, before you turned around to question her, wearing a mischievous smile on your lips:” What do we do now with them gone, Oni?”

“Celebrate?”, the defender replied grinning.

“Yes!”, you nodded excitedly.

“But you had enough to drink.”, she noted with a laugh.

“Rude!”, you protested.

“It’s true.”, Ona observed.

Smiling mildly at you Aitana came to help her argument:”It’s.”

“See?”

“You two are no fun.”, you grumbled.

“I mean it’s a once in a lifetime thing.”, Ona remarked as she watched you joining the rest of players who were still dancing despite the exhausting final.

Amused Aitana was taking a seat next to the defender:” How does y/n still have the energy to dance though.”

“It’s the alcohol.”, she replied with an eyeroll.

“Definitely. Wanna bet she’s sleepy in like ten minutes?”, the midfielder asked smiling.

“Oh definitely.”, Ona nodded. She couldn’t keep her eyes off you. The soon to be Barcelona player was astonished at how effortlessly and elegant your dance moves despite your tipsiness.

Aitana’s prediction turned out to be true. With a little bit of help from Ona you reached the hotel room you two were sharing. Your eyes were already closed when your head hit the pillow:” I’m not tired yet.”

“Oh sure, I can tell. Good night, y/n.”, she chuckled.

“You too, love you.”, you replied about to fall asleep.

Suddenly Onas’s heart felt pounding hard against her chest when the defender pressed a kiss on your forehead:” I love you too.” She often told you how much she loved you but this time the words hit differently. It dawned on the player that she didn’t want you like a best friend. No the woman felt the urge to be your lover.

2024

“Aitana, I fell in love with my best friend.”, Ona confessed to Aitana with a heavy air of meaning.

A small smile was forming on the midfielder’s lips: “I know.”

“What do you mean you know?”, she glanced at her confused.

“There were so many moments in the past.”, Aitana began.

Still shocked Ona interrupted her:” I only realized it during the world cup final.”

“In that case you’re very late to the party.”, the friend answered, her face couldn’t hide her amusement.

Bewildered, Ona exclaimed: “Tana!“

The midfielder just shrugged casually: “It’s true.“

“Oh, is it?“, Ona raised an eyebrow at her.

“Ask Ale and Jenni… and Mapi… and Leila. You could literally ask anyone in the team.“, Aitana chuckled.

“It doesn’t matter anyway.“

Aitana eyed her team mate carefully: “It does matter.“

Ona shook her head with a deep sigh: “No, you don’t get it. She told Ale that she doesn’t fancy me and wouldn’t go for her best friend.“

“Wasn’t that forever ago?“, Aitana asked, seemingly unimpressed.

“It was after our training… I feel so stupid…“

“She didn’t have an easy time here when you were in Manchester, Ona.“

“It wasn’t easy for me either.“, the defender admitted.

Aitana looked at her thoughtfully: “Maybe it’s time to talk to each other.“

Ona was quite for a moment before she nodded: “You’re right. Y/n and I need to talk.“

“You should.“

She pulled her friend into a quick hug. “Goodbye, Tana.“

“Bye, Ona.“

Of course, you were paired with Ona to share a room at Barcelonas next away game. Something must have conspired against you. Or Alexia had a hand in this. Ona and you hadn’t exchanged a single word since Alexias intervention after training a few days ago.

Of course, the silence in the hotel room was obnoxious. But you had no interest in changing that.

Ona was the first one to give in, sitting on the bed on her side of the room: “Y/n, stop ignoring me, please.“

“Bold coming from the person who ran away.“, you retorted. You refused to even look at her and instead focused on putting away your clothes.

“I didn’t run away!“

Slowly, you turned to her: “Yes, you did. When Ale talked to me about us.“

You expected her to object but she just looked at you with pleading eyes: “Please, can you just listen to me?“

You sighed reluctantly: “Alright.“

“Thanks.“

“So?“, you prompted her impatiently as soon as she stopped talking.

“Y/n…“

“Yes?“

You could tell that Ona struggled to get the words out but the suspense was almost killing you.

“I like you.“, she finally said.

“More than a best friend?“, you asked, surprised by how hoarse your voice sounded.

“Yes.“, Ona nodded.

You shook your head. Your gaze directed towards the ground, you whispered: “I don’t want to ruin our friendship.“

Ona had gotten up from the bed and bridged the gap between you two. Her hand gently found your cheek, forcing you to meet her eyes. She was so close, you could count the freckles on her face.

“Can it really ruin our friendship if we both want it?“, she asked quietly.

You slowly shook your head: “No, probably not…“

“I think we should try it.“

For the first time, your brain was silent. There was no counterargument you could think of. There was just your heart hammering in your chest.

“Agreed.“, you breathed.

And before you knew it, your lips were on your best friends. Ona hummed into the kiss, pushing harder against you and parting your lips with her tongue.

It knocked you off balance. You landed on your bed, Ona on top of you. You both giggled but refused to remove your lips from each others.

“Oh. My. God. Finally!“, Mapis voice called out, startling you.

“Mapi!“, you yelled at the exact same time, looking at your team mate who had just stumbled into your room.

She flashed you an innocent grin: “Sorry.“

“What do you want anyway?“, Ona asked, a slight hint of annoyance in her voice.

“Uhm… I was about to tell you that we’re starting to have dinner?“ There was no sign of remorse on Mapis face, just pure amazement at what she had just walked into.

“We’ll be there soon.“, Ona replied politely.

“Just give us a few more seconds.“, you added.

Mapi smirked: “You two know that Ale will sense it immediately?“

Ona nodded: “We do.“

“That’s why we need time to prepare ourselves for it.“, you joked.

“Okay, See you later.“ She disappeared through the door with a wink.

The two of you were alone again.

Ona bit her lip to hide a smile: “We don’t need time to prepare ourselves, we need time to make out. That’s what you meant right?“

“Yeah, I did.“, you admitted with a laugh.

Dinner could wait. Kissing all of your girlfriends freckles could definitely not.

#ona batlle #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso community #woso #barca femeni #barca femeni x reader #espwnt #aitana bonmati #leila ouahabi #mapi leon #alexia putellas #jenni hermoso

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vandnana · 1 year

Text

In Love With The Enemy [I]

Chapter 1: Why So Blue?

pairing: lo’ak x female turned na’vi reader

summary: during the time when jake became toruk makto, you were quaritch’s youngest and most valued soldier, the daughter he never had. but, pandora changed you and you died during the final battle, betraying quaritch and wishing that you had been able to do more. now, you have been reborn again, as a na’vi, tasked with quaritch’s new military avatar crew to kill Jake Sully. taking advantage of this second chance at life, you help the Sullys and fall in love along the way.

genre: fluff, angst ~ slow burn, pining on lo’ak’s part

highlights: [lo’ak already having a crush on the reader after LITERALLY almost trying to kill her, jake and reader have their tearful reunion!, quaritch still in his toxic dad era, and lo’ak admiring reader in the bioluminescence of the forest]

word count: 9,332

note: hello! thank you all again for waiting for this part! a couple things...when i was writing, i got soo carried away, but i couldn’t help writing in moments of reader with lo’ak in their first encounters cause shes totally intrigued and he has an effect on her, but both of them are in that awkward staring phase??? with that being said, i hope you enjoy!!

[Prologue] [chapter 2]

Light infiltrated your senses, invading your shut eyes as you heard voices around you, the sounds distant at first, but slowly heightening as you came to. Opening them, the fluorescent lights stunned you, your hand instinctively finding its way to the front of your face. You pulled it away, the sight so shocking that you figured you were in hell, punished to be what you had failed to protect.

You were blue, a Na’vi, adorned in hospital gowns with wires attached all over your body.

You felt sharp pains in your head and pangs in your heart, endless memories flooding your mind in swarms, the happiness, the pain, the loss...you remembered it all as you took in your surroundings.

You got up instantly, pulling off the wires as you searched around, your vision becoming less blurry as you continued to blink.

You looked for Grace first before you realized she was gone, murdered by your father, the agony once cauterized now festering into an open wound as the memory sunk stones in your heart. You were looking around for Jake, Norm and, Trudy, but they were nowhere to be found. You were alone, heartbroken, and confused.

“Whoo! Looks like the baby’s awake!” You heard from behind the door, other blue figures walking in wearing full camo, all of them strutting over to you.

In your newly awakened shock, you had a delayed reaction to your body just waking up, your muscles suddenly feeling like jelly as you kept yourself steady on the bed with your hands. As everyone filed in, you hoped that at least one of them would be Jake, but you sunk your shoulders as you realized who they were.

Wainfleet, Warren, Zdinarsk, and Fike. They were the soldiers you grew up training with, all cut from the same obnoxious and arrogant rock.

Wainfleet shook your shoulders, laughing loudly as he looked at your expression, your teeth gritted as you did your best to hide how much you despised all of them, “Hey y/n, why so blue?”

The rest of them laughed aloud with him, and you rolled your eyes, pushing him off you aggressively, which only made him erupt with more laughter, “Still as feisty as ever.” Wainfleet sighed.

Lagging behind, one last person walked through the door, and unlike the rest of the regiment, he was wearing hospital gowns like you were. When he turned toward you, you recognized him right away.

It was Quaritch, your father, the man you owed your life to when you were human.

But it wasn’t really him.

He had become his worst nightmare and in seeing him, you were convinced that you really had been damned to hell. He was Na’vi too and a real sight for sore eyes, his movements awkward and almost repulsed as he approached, like he wanted to jump out of his own skin. The only comfort that he seemed to take refuge in was seeing you, his daughter, his prodigy.

He hugged you and for the first time, he smiled. “My little girl, real nice to see you.”

You hardly shared the same sentiment, the comfort you should have felt replaced by torment and pain. Your memories with your father were consumed by both, and in that moment, that was all you could feel. It was rare for him to ever hug you like this. You never felt any warmth from his embraces, just a temporary sense of relief that you had done something right, that you didn’t disappoint him. You had endured it all your life, desperately clinging to the good things he did, your gratefulness to him for saving you from a worthless life overwhelming any rational thought.

Your father seemed to be the one savoring the feeling of holding you, the roles unexpectedly reversed as he, for the first time in his life, clung to you, like you were the only tether to who he once was.

Before, you would have considered yourself lucky, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and savoring that feeling. But as you sat on the bed, you kept your arms at your sides and your eyes glued to the ceiling, biting your cheek as you fought every urge to give into your anger, to push him off you and make him pay for what he did to Grace.

You took a deep breath in, relaxing as you faced forward again, “I’d be stupid to believe that we were brought back for a simple reunion. Why are we here? And how are we avatars?” You had a firm tone, almost emotionless besides your lifted syllable at the end to indicate your question.

Quaritch let go of you, a proud, satisfied grin on his face as he pulled back, “Perceptive as always.”

He crossed his arms, “All of us got our ticket punched the last time we were on Pandora, and for the sins of our past we have been brought back to life in the form of our enemy to complete one simple task.”

“What’s the mission?” You remained stoic, mirroring your father as you crossed your arms.

He chuckled lightly, his tone suddenly confident as his eyes reflected his renewed sense of purpose, “We’ve been ordered to eliminate the leader of the Na’vi insurgency known as Toruk Makto.”

The emotion you held in burst out in the surprise you showed in your widened eyes. Unfolding your arms, you felt a flit of relief settle in your heart, “Jake’s alive?”

He turned his head, the rest of your regiment whooping with excitement, their smirks irradiating a sinister aura as they gathered around your father.

“That’s right, y/n. Sully’s alive.” Your father gloated, his eyes ferocious with vengeance, “And we’re gonna kill him.”

He gave you no chance to protest, walking out with the rest of the regiment as he pointed to the clothes beside you, “Now, go on and get dressed. We got an hour before Pandora insertion.”

You grabbed the clothes from the table, your hands tightening around them and your breathing ragged as you could feel your frustrations finally spill out.

You had been born again, but at what cost?

The same people that sent you to Pandora were the same people that made an unholy decision, reaching into the past and plucking you out of the comfort of death just to reclaim the glory they still believed was theirs.

When you had awoken, you had figured you had damned yourself for all eternity, and in learning about your new mission, you were right. You were thrust back into your own nightmare, a horrible repeat of the life you had once known, your orders betraying what you had in your heart, just like it did before.

You wanted no part in reclaiming glory and rewriting your father’s failure, but it was the only reason why your heart was even beating. Your mind was only just catching up on your grief, the loss so fresh and so vivid that you felt guilty to have that heartbeat.

You were the Colonel’s daughter.

Why did you deserve to live when Grace was dead? Why did you get a second chance at life when your only reason for breathing was to destroy Jake?

Everything about your life now was born from selfishness, the selfishness of Sky People that had no respect for philosophies regarding life and wholly disregarded the notions that dead things should stay dead.

You didn’t know what happened to Trudy or Norm, but you naturally thought the worst, and that made your mere existence even more unbearable. You weren’t sure how long it had been since you died, but for you, you never felt that time pass, never felt the pain of being gone from those you love. It felt cruel to be alive, the torment of it aching you as you thought of how Jake must have felt when you died and how much it must have hurt.

You looked up, your eyes catching a glimpse of your reflection in the metal lining of the walls. You touched your face lightly as you stared, so bewildered by how you looked. You weren’t the old you anymore, only the shell of your humanity in the semblance of your features.

And for the first time since you woke, you smiled, “If only Grace could see me now.” You mumbled to yourself, the sadness of losing her still lingering behind the calm that settled over you at having thought about her.

You got up, finally deciding to change out of your gowns, and you could have sworn you heard Grace’s voice in the back of your mind, telling you what she always loved to tell you, how you were smarter than you let yourself believe and how you had a heart bigger than the soldiers you were surrounded by.

You took a look at yourself again, those words that felt as if they were just spoken yesterday shrouded over you. It felt unfair to be alive, and that guilt was deep inside of you, but you pushed that feeling aside as your own sense of purpose triumphed over it.

Whatever it took, whatever you needed to do, you were going to save what was left of your family.

You were going to save Jake.

It was two minutes until Pandora insertion, your breather on as you waited for your descent onto the planet. You were quiet, keeping to yourself as you rode along with everyone else, absorbing every detail of the plans until you could figure out the best way to help Jake.

When you had finally reached the ground, the hatch opened and getting up, you walked out, expecting to find yourself surrounded by the forest you loved so much.

Pulling your breather off though, your smile dropped, your eyes unwilling to process the inconceivable truth. In front of you was the reckoning of humanity in full form, its destructive touch creating an unhallowed grave of the once-rich earth below it. Flashbacks filled your mind as you remembered your early life on earth, the desecration of the forest mirroring the desolation that you had escaped when you left for Pandora. Sky People had killed their Mother, holding onto the little that she could provide before finally destroying Her integrity.

Back then, Selfridge was all about the money, and while greed was still very much a part of the new frontier you had found yourself in, humanity’s motives had suddenly become desperate for something else--a new home.

The air no longer held a healthy vigor, a gray density taking its place and expelling a putrid, metallic smell that filled your nose. You were in horrid disbelief, the sight in front of you giving reason to the smell as you rubbed your eyes, still not wanting to believe that the damnation in front of you was real. You were witnessing an entire infestation, complete with insect-shaped machina, their hardware programmed to build the towers and towers of future buildings that would make up what would be known as Bridgehead City.

Behind you, you felt slight relief to see that forest still remained in the distance, but with how quickly the machina bugs were building, it was only inevitable that their work would continue southward and beyond. The General in charge, General Ardmore, although satisfied with the progress that they had made in a year, was still taking losses thanks to Jake’s raids, his forces the only reason that the land had not been fully conquered.

You were looking at the footage from his recent raid, Ardmore’s hands on her hips as she explained the situation, “Jake’s raids are becoming bolder and more frequent.”

Putting a hand on your chin, you let out a weak chuckle, “Looks like Sully’s giving you a run for your money.”

Wainfleet nudged you in the ribs with a disapproving look, but you shoved him away, crossing your arms, “I’m only speaking the truth. He was a Marine, guys. I’m not surprised. He knows exactly how you all think.” Your tone was condescending as you glared at General Ardmore, who seemed to only tolerate your consistent interruptions.

She glared back at you, “Are you questioning my methods, Lieutenant?”

Quaritch was taken aback, putting a hand up to your chest, to stop you from continuing. You looked at your father and defiantly you spoke again. “I am questioning your methods, General. You may have been able to tame this frontier in a year with your bionic bugs, but these...savages with their bows and arrows still have you all by the balls.”

She scoffed, “I’d watch that tone, Lieutenant,” She paused as you kept your glare on her, and she turned, another holographic projection of the Hallelujah Mountains emerged, “Although, what you said does hold some truth. We’ve come to believe that he’s holed up somewhere in these mountains within one of its cave systems, but every time we go up there, we take losses. Can’t be more than ten minutes in enemy airspace without stirring up the hornets’ nest.”

You watched as helicopters were swarmed with hoards of ikran, and you were instantly fascinated, your mind querying the possibility of such a hive mind response by animals, “How odd. They never used to do that before.”

“Our only hope of finding Jake’s base is you guys. We think that you will be perceived as indigenous and won’t trigger the immune response, but that’s only our theory.” General Ardmore

“And how might we test that theory?” You asked, crossing your arms.

Tight-lipped, she sucked a breath in, “The hard way.”

Quaritch snickered, a cocky smirk on his face, “Outstanding.”

“Good. No time to waste. Let’s fly.” She replied with a pleased grin.

Ardmore ordered for a helicopter to be prepped and escorted you toward the hangar. When you entered it, the pilot was just getting into the helicopter and you instantly thought of Trudy, your best friend who loved to raid the caf late at night with you and begged you to fly with her all those years ago.

Quaritch interrupted your thoughts as he pulled you back, “What’s wrong with you? You don’t talk to your superiors like that again, you understand me?”

Reluctantly you nodded, “Yes sir. I understand.”

“You better. Now get in.” He let go of your arm, motioning for you to enter the helicopter.

Wainfleet had a dumb smile on his face, asking curiously, “Where we headed first, Colonel?”

“Where it all started.” He replied, his eyes lighting up with his inspired rage, “W

Touching down on one of the mountains, a stream of nostalgia flowed through you as your mind replayed the first day you had ever landed there with Trudy. Site 26 was only a couple meters away, but each step was like a remnant of the past, scenes flashing in front of you as if you were only there yesterday.

You suddenly felt like you were home once again.

The forest had grown so much, the plant life around you like a warm blanket as the trees enveloped your figure everywhere you went. The soft earth squished down as you took a step while the intertwining branches and brambles gave you a hearty challenge as you maneuvered. Your ears twitched at the range of sounds, some delicate and others obvious, those ones keeping the rest of your crew on edge, their guns readied pointedly in every direction.

You were merely keeping protocol, not planning on shooting anything as you trudged carefully through the forest. Even with all that you had learned about Jake, you still had no plan. Any hope you had of going out to find him alone was futile, knowing that Quaritch would notice your absence instantly.

Approaching Site 26, Wainfleet took his place beside your father, joining him as they both stepped into the clearing. You hesitated, yet to brush past the infiltrating brush as the gaps in the leaves gave you a skewed view of the shack, which had clearly been abandoned, any sign of life nonexistent.

You could hear slight rustling in the trees, the movement calculated and quick. Craning your neck, you looked upward, catching an unmistakable shimmer of blue as you watched the figure of a young man maneuver behind a thicket of green foliage above.

There was no use in hiding, you had already seen him and in his boldness, he brushed the leaves away, staring down at you with his bow already drawn back in his hand, and behind him was a younger girl, the side of her face only visible to you.

As he continued to look at you, you put your gun down, your figure still as you squinted up at him, his face holding so much familiarity to you that you fell silent.

He was unusually hesitant to kill you, convincing himself that he was only being strategic, but truthfully, he just thought you were pretty, unable to contain a flush in his face. The younger girl he was with, looked up at him, her eyebrows furrowed as she watched his odd behavior. He looked hardly older than you, but you still couldn’t figure out who he was, and you knew that the longer they were there, the more danger they were in.

You put your hands up, whispering as you spoke to them in Na’vi, “You both shouldn’t be here. Go back. They’ll kill you if they see you.”

He kept his bowstring taut, conflicted as he faced you, his voice barely audible as he whispered, “Why not let them kill my ass then?”

“I’m not your enemy.” You replied simply.

Quaritch looked over, seeing your figure behind the brush, calling you through his telecom device, “You got eyes on something, y/n?”

Placing your fingers on your own device, the young man drew his bow back again upon instinct, “No sir.” You shook your head, “There’s nothing but trees here.”

Giving them both one last glance, you made your way into the clearing, the young man’s eyes following you as you left, glued to you as you made your way to your father.

“Why are you just staring, Lo’ak? You heard her. We should go.” She pulled at him, trying to get him to budge.

“Not yet Tuk. I have to see what they’re up to.” He warned, glancing at her from the side and shushing her.

Carefully, he advanced forward, climbing to a higher branch with Tuk following behind him quietly. From a higher spot, Lo’ak watched as you, Quaritch, and Wainfleet gathered near your father’s AMP suit.

You were towering over it, your father frowning as his eyes were glued to his own battered skeleton staring back at him like an undead taunt. He put his hand on the arrows sticking out of his body, the two of them embedded into his chest mocking him scornfully too.

You looked down at the AMP suit, a relic of your father’s failure and you noticed his dogtags, pulling them off his skeleton. Your father always wore his, but he always had a copy of yours too. Handing them to him, he took them, his fingers gently brushing the metal and reading the engravings before he put them around his neck.

He looked up at you, “Check the old shack. Wainfleet and I are gonna look around some more.”

You nodded, obeying the order. Pushing away the vines, you hopped in through the broken window. You were too big to stand tall, crouching as your eyes settled on everything, no longer seeing the reality of the wreckage in front of you, but rather the scenes of your memories.

You felt as if you had traveled in time, back to the best days of your old life as you trailed your hands along the pods and going further toward the west-end you stopped, seeing your old bunk. You had decorated the frame with a few pictures and removing them, you wiped the dust away.

You held them up to the peeking light in the shack as you traced your hands over the pictures. One of them was just of you and Jake flipping off the camera, making you laugh to yourself. The other was your whole family, you squished between Jake and Grace, Norm and Trudy standing behind you, all of you grinning widely, your happiness caught in the stillness of one shot.

That was the thing about happiness, it could vanish in an instant, the once pristine shack you had always remembered disappearing as you were faced with the reality of what it actually was. You were in a wreckage, your despair sinking into the broken glass that littered the floor. You hugged the pictures to your chest, savoring the memories before putting them in your pocket.

“Roll out, roll out! We got movement!” An urgent shout rang from outside.

Hopping back out, you followed after Wainfleet and the Colonel, both of them charging toward the forest.

Multiple shots were fired as you navigated through the forest floor and above, you saw the two Na’vi that you had seen earlier, frantically running through the branches and dodging bullets.

Climbing up the tree, you chased after them, hoping to put enough distance between them and the rest of the regiment, “Ardmore was clear about what she wanted. If they know where Sully is, these two are no good to us dead.”

You were pleading on the side of reason and logic, lying through your teeth as you pretended to be on board with a mission that you only saw as immoral insanity.

Quaritch rattled off commands, “Secure the girl! We only need one of them to draw Sully out. Kill the other one if you have to.”

You were catching up to the both of them, impossibly fast as you navigated through the branches, keeping your balance as you hopped from one to another. The younger one looked behind her, her foot suddenly catching on one of the branches and and sending her plummeting to the ground below with a hard thump.

Watching her fall felt like everything was happening in slow motion, your mind teetering on what to do as you continued to run after the young man, watching as Zdinarsk and Warren took her by the arms, dragging her off toward the shack per your father’s orders.

“In pursuit of the Na’vi male. No need for back up.” You quickly let out in your telecom, sprinting toward the young man as he was about to jump off the branch.

You tackled him, his back landing harshly on the bark as he yelled for his sister, “Tuk!”

His eyes immediately went to you, enraged as he hissed at you first, maneuvering himself from under you and pushing you into the bark, his hands pinning your arms down.

“I’m trying to save you both.” You retorted, kicking from underneath him, inflicting a sharp pain in his legs that loosened his grip.

“Like hell you are. I should have killed you when I had the chance.” He wrestled you down again, but you punched him hard, catching him off guard as he placed his finger to his lips, now bloodied.

“Then you’d be dead and so would she.” You spat, grabbing his arm and securing him onto his back once more, your grip on him strong as he fought you off with all his might.

You brought your knife to his neck, forceful as you pushed it against his skin, “I’m not your enemy.” His eyes were fearless, challenging you as you stared into his eyes.

You huffed, lifting your knife from him and striking the bark so close to his ears that you nicked him slightly, blood drawing from where you had caught him.

You put a firm hand on his chest, catching your breath as you calmly talked to him, “I don’t want to fight you, okay?”

He placed his hands on your waist, swiping his leg from underneath yours to press you back into the bark, his eyes narrowed at you, his face smug, “Then what do you want to do? Dance?”

You scoffed at his arrogance, “I want to help you.” You put a finger on his forehead, your teeth gritted, “You need to get it through your thick skull that if I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead already.”

“I need to save my sister.” He was panting, still stubbornly persistent, but in his desperation, reluctantly loosened his aggressive grip on you.

You lifted yourself up too, your face so dangerously close to his as you glared at him. “You have no fear. I see it in your eyes. But that won’t save you or your sister. Even with all that courage, you have no chance against my regiment. Not alone at least.”

Your voice sent goosebumps down his whole body, his cheeks reddening as he tightened his jaw. He scoffed listening to you, his pride too great to acknowledge that truth. You stood up, putting a hand out. He hesitated to take it, and you rolled your eyes, leaning down to pull him up. He blinked at you, the feeling of your hands in his warm and kind, a sudden stark difference to how they felt when you were fighting.

You had a determined expression on your face, your speech hurried as you cautiously looked around you, “I’ll keep your sister safe. You have my word, but I can only think of one person who’ll know how to deal with my regiment.”

He sighed, your hands still intertwined, “Who?”

“Your Olo’eyktan, Jake Sully. My father, Colonel Quaritch, has orders to kill him, and your sister is his best bet at drawing him out.”

The young man’s face paling in shock, his mouth parted in utter disbelief, “Why does your father want to kill mine?”

You withdrew your hand, blinking as your brain could hardly process what he had just said, his reason for feeling so familiar slowly being committed to truth. In your shock, your mouth spewed your thoughts in an almost inaudible whisper, your face paling as you stared at him, “Had I really been dead that long?”

You couldn’t help but stare at him and looking down, you scolded yourself for not noticing his hands before, too encapsulated by that initial familiarity you felt about him.

He tilted his head, squinting at you, “How do you know him?”

“Look I-” You began, but your father’s voice in your ear interrupted you, startling you out of your deep thought, “Y/n, what’s your traffic?”

Putting your hands to your telecom you answered, “Returning to the rally point.”

You grabbed your knife that was stuck in the branch frantically, giving the young man one last look, soft and reassuring even amidst your seriousness, “Don’t worry about your sister. You have to go now! Hurry!”

Without another word, you jumped off the branch, your pocket snagging on it and sending the photos you had put in them flying into the air. The young man caught them in his hands, and seeing you, he was taken aback. He had seen your face before, but as he searched his mind, he found nothing to satisfy your mystery. Taking a deep breath, he cleared his head, pocketing the photos as he ran in the opposite direction of the shack, calling his ikran and darting away back to base.

When you had arrived at the shack, Tuk was bound to a nearby tree branch while Fike held her by her hair, ignoring her squirms as she tried to keep her cries silent.

Quaritch walked over to you with a satisfied grin, patting you on the shoulder, “We got a prisoner thanks to you, but you were gone a while. That savage didn’t give you a hard time, did he?”

“No, sir. I let him go.” You responded simply.

“You what?” Quaritch yelled at you, furious.

“What good would he be dead? Eclipse is almost nearing and we’re in enemy airspace. We don’t have time for a full night-op. If I had let killed him, then who would be the one to tell Jake?” You argued back, your voice poised as you spoke.

“And how can you be so sure they won’t just leave this brat to die?” Wainfleet interjected, the question marking curiosity in everyone.

You glared at Wainfleet, biting your cheek as you hesitated for a moment. You didn’t want to reveal their identities, but with how bloodthirsty they looked, you knew that they were practically begging for any excuse to kill her.

You sighed, “They’re his children.”

Quaritch’s expression turned sinister, his eyes lowering toward Tuk, whose face was scrunched up in fear, “Is that right? This is Sully’s kid?”

You nodded, your father awed by his own dumb luck as he looked up at the sky, laughing, “It must be my lucky day.”

Looking back at you, he put a hand on your shoulder, “I’m calling for extraction. We take her on board if Sully’s late.”

Calling the general through the telecom, he confirmed the helicopter’s arrival and turning toward the clearing, he called out, “Lyle!”

Wainfleet, rushed over to him, your father pointing to the suit, “See if you can pull some data off that suit, and y/n, keep an eye on our prisoner.”

You nodded, walking over to her as your father and Wainfleet disappeared into the clearing once more.

Fike who was snickering as he watched Tuk squirm stopped once you cleared your throat, “Piss off. I’m sure you’re tired of daycare duty.”

Fike let go willingly, “My arm was getting kind of tired. Thanks.” He replied jokingly.

He walked over to the others, talking amongst themselves loudly. You crouched beside the girl, who hissed at you, her pain manifesting itself in her eyes.

You remembered her name as you tried to comfort her, “Tuk, your brother is safe. You don’t need to be scared.”

Hearing her hiss, Zdinarsk was about to stomp over, but you stopped her, covering Tuk’s mouth with your hand. She turned around again, slinging her arm around Fike’s shoulders as she continued the conversation.

When she finally looked away, you took your knife out, tampering with the binds on her hands and loosening the seal, “I sent your brother to find your dad. He was once of the Sky People, but now he is Na’vi. Only he can stop them. Do you understand?”

She couldn’t believe what you were doing, her gaze darting from you to her wrists, you continued to talk soothingly, “When the time is right, you’ll be able to get out of those no problem.”

“Is my dad really coming?” She sniffled, her expression begging for you to be telling the truth.

You met her eyes kindly, “Yes. He is. I made sure that he would. And as long as you’re here with me, you’re safe.”

She relaxed, her expression relieved, a smile adorning her face finally, “Thank you for helping me and Lo’ak.”

You smiled at her warmly, “Ah, so that’s your brother’s name.” She nodded and you couldn’t help but chuckle, remembering your fight on the branches, “I’m y/n.”

“Y/n. That’s pretty. How did you know my name?” Tuk asked innocently.

“I heard Lo’ak call you. Your name is pretty too.”

She blushed, “Thank you.”

She looked at her wrists, “How will I know when the time is right?”

Returning your knife to where it was, you put a hand on her shoulder, “You’ll know, Tuk.” You smiled, “Your dad knows how to make an entrance.”

As you looked at her, you saw more of her parents in her. You had been so focused on the thought of being brought back to life, that you didn’t even bother to notice how long you really had been dead. You felt it first looking at Lo’ak, but it had finally sunk into you.

It felt surreal, and as you sat on the soft, rich soil, you realized that you had probably died somewhere in the forest, your body a relic of the past just like your father’s was.

Quaritch walked out of the brush with a disgruntled expression, his eyes irradiating with an unkempt rage. When you saw him, you stood up, placing yourself between him and Tuk.

"What happened? Why are you-” You stopped as your father pushed past you, kneeling as he put a knife to Tuk’s throat.

He pulled her head back, seething, “Listen here little girl, the only reason why you’re breathing now is because I wanna see your father’s face when I kill you.”

Tuk froze, petrified as fear overtook her body, so stunned that she couldn’t even utter a whimper.

“What the hell are you doing? She’s just a child!” You yelled at your father, something you had never done before, the height of your voice making him lift his grip on her.

Slowly he ascended, his eyes squinted at you in disbelief, “I don’t care if she’s a child. She’s his. Sully’s gonna pay for what he did to us. To our family. Nothing’s over. Not while we’re breathing.”

The hatefulness in his words trapped you as you felt his manic desperation suck the fresh air around you, the world feeling as if it was sinking into abysmal darkness as you couldn’t shield the horror in your eyes.

He took the dogtags you had given him earlier and put them around your neck, “This Na’vi blood’s making you soft. You wear this as a reminder, y/n, a reminder of who you are and where you came from.”

Quaritch stomped off, barking orders to Fike as he left the perimeter, leaving you with those dogtags on your neck, mocking you. You clasped your hands around the dogtags wanting to rip them off your neck and cast them far from you, but you stopped yourself, your shoulders sinking as you sat beside Tuk again.

Your expression matched the darkening sky, the light that cascaded through the trees slowly succumbing to eclipse, and unsure of how to comfort you, Tuk put her hands over yours, your hearts anxious for what was ahead.

“Where’s your sister, Lo’ak? Where’s Tuk?” Jake yelled, his tone abrasive as he aggressively took his son by the shoulders, Neytiri behind him, her eyes filled with worry.

His brother Neteyam went to his side while his other sister Kiri took the other, both of them teeming with worry.

Lo’ak brushed them both off as he made eye-contact with his father, the urgency in his voice showing in his hurriedness, “Colonel Quaritch. He took her, but this girl, she’s keeping her safe and she told me to find you.”

Jake squinted at his son, enraged by such nonsense. He raised his voice in anger, “What the hell are you talking about? Quaritch? A-a girl? That’s impossible. Answer the goddamn question, Lo’ak! Where is your sister?”

"Where is Tuk?” Neytiri repeated, the slowness in her voice giving intense warning as she glared at him.

“Tuk is at the shack, but you have to listen to me, dad. They’re all avatars. They were wearing camo and they had guns.”

Jake and Neytiri looked at one another, unwilling to believe such a nightmarish thing. Still, they were sure of one thing. Tuk was gone, and whether they believed what Lo’ak had said, it didn’t matter. They’re daughter’s life was on the line.

“Let’s go get our daughter.” Jake said to his mate, who nodded, calling her ikran, Jake doing the same.

Lo’ak reached the edge of the camp, mounting his ikran and almost darting off before Kiri and Neteyam showed up at his side.

Kiri groaned in annoyance, “What are you doing? You’re gonna get in trouble!”

Neteyam grabbed Lo’ak’s arm, glaring, “Don’t, Lo’ak.”

Lo’ak shoved him off, mounting his ikran, “Just come with me and stop being such a wuss.”

Lo’ak flew off, Neteyam grunting as he followed his brother, cursing at him under his breath.

Eclipse had finally taken over the sky and with it came a steady rainfall, giving Jake and Neytiri an advantage. Neteyam and Lo’ak followed not long after, and in his fury, commanded them to both stay by the ikrans, Neteyam reluctantly obeying, while Lo’ak agreed halfheartedly.

Jake and Neytiri moved in silence, calculating every move with precision. Neytiri took to the trees and Jake covered the ground, his tomahawk firmly ready in his hand. Carefully and silently, Jake disarmed the soldiers guarding the perimeter while Neytiri waited for the opportune moment to strike.

Everyone else took their positions when dusk fell, the usual calm of the forest becoming eerie, the slight movements of the nature surrounding you making the crew jumpy, their guns at the ready, expectant of any attack. Earlier, when no one was looking, you loosened the binds around her wrists, telling her that when the time was right, she would be able to escape easily.

Tuk kept that in mind, her eyes glued to her wrists as she waited that perfect time. The noises around you had been constant, the rain, the occasional rustling of the leaves, certain animal calls. But, a new sound broke in the wind, making your ears twitch. Tuk heard it loud and clear, looking up at you, and you understood what the sound was. It was a call, a signal that Jake had finally come.

After the wake of that new sound, the unmistakeable twang of an arrow burst through the thick air, sending Fike backwards and killing him instantly. Bullets rang through the air from another direction, sending the other soldiers flying to the ground. Tuk, who had figured this was the perfect time to set herself free, squeezed her hands through the binds and ran in the opposite direction of the fire, screaming when she ran into someone, but sinking with relief when she realized it was Lo’ak and Neteyam.

Neteyam took Tuk into his arms, holding her as Lo’ak grabbed her by the shoulder, “Where’s the girl, the girl that helped us?” He asked her.

Tuk pointed opposite his direction, “Y/n! She’s over there!”

Lo’ak, without any hesitation ran toward where Tuk had pointed, carefully maneuvering as he approached.

You and the rest of the soldiers took cover as bullets continued to sweep the forest floor, bullets that you knew could only be coming from Jake.

Quaritch, who had taken cover behind a log, saw the arrow, his voice sinister as he attempted to draw her out. “Is that you Mrs. Sully?”

She instantly recognized the voice, but she kept a poised anger, despite the ghostly chill she felt down her spine, “I will kill you as many times as I have to, demon.”

Quaritch huffed out cockily, reloading his weapon, “Looks like you’ve been busy while I’ve been gone, but don’t worry Mrs. Sully. Pretty soon, you won’t have a family to protect.”

Looking at Warren and Wainfleet, Quaritch gave his signal, the two of them putting their eyes in their scopes to search for Neytiri as he continued to talk, taunting her with unbearable arrogance.

She was stuck where she was, any movement marking her for death as guns in all directions were targeting her. You used your scope to watch your crew intently from the opposite side. Warren’s eyes were fixed on the trees, and you knew he caught sight of her when he stopped, aiming as he pointed his gun at her. You aimed at Warren ready to pull the trigger, but an arrow came flying through the sky behind you, shooting through Warren’s chest and sending his body instantly to the ground.

Wainfleet immediately turned toward the arrow’s origin and you followed his line of sight to find Lo’ak behind you. You stepped in front of the line of fire, attempting to stop Wainfleet, but he had already pulled the trigger. The bullet had landed above your clavicle, a seemingly fatal wound as your body dropped, Lo’ak catching you as you fell.

Wainfleet’s eyes widened, turning his head to the Colonel, who hadn’t seen what had happened, and in his flustered state, Wainfleet backed away slowly, running to your father’s side.

At that same instant, Quaritch took his shot, gauging where Neytiri was and releasing a detonation of bullets that bursted with deadly fire, the area engulfing in a massive explosion that ruptured the area, pieces of bark flying all throughout the forest like shrapnel. Taking her chance, Neytiri ran, and seeing her movement, Quaritch ordered the crew to follow. Jake followed too, disarming soldiers from where he had taken cover and using the last of his bullets to secure Neytiri’s safety.

You were lying on the ground, Lo’ak breaking your fall as you both tumbled to the grassy floor, “Shit!” He yelled out once he noticed the blood dripping from the wound.

Shifting to your side, he put pressure on it, talking to you gently, “Hey! Stay with me, okay?”

When your mind finally caught up with your body, you let a deep breath in, sitting up abruptly, the boy retracting his hands as your own touched where your wound was, the blood smeared on your fingertips as more poured down your chest.

Quickly, you ripped pieces of your shirt as he watched, eyes blinking in confusion as his face flushed, “What are you doing?”

You almost laughed, a smirk on your face, “Relax, I’m not getting naked.”

Looking around, you took your knife out, slicing off a piece of the bark from a nearby tree, pressing the blade into its flesh as it seeped out sap. You wiped the sap on your wound, feeling the slight sting as Lo’ak watching in confused awe.

Lo’ak let out another question, “Where did you learn how to-”

“I had a great teacher.” You replied, “Yanna bark sap has great healing properties.”

You gave him the pieces of cloth that you tore, “Just wrap the pieces around.”

He took the cloth from you, covering the wound, “Wrap it tightly.” You ordered.

“Ow!” You yelped as he pulled the cloth taut.

“You said to do it tightly.” He mumbled, continuing to wrap your wound.

You took his face in your other hand, brushing his lip with your finger, the bottom of it cracked and the blood crusted from when you punched him, “Sorry about that.”

He could feel his heart beat faster, your fingers still on his lips as he placed his gaze on you. The way he bore his eyes into you made you feel shy, and having never been looked at like that before, you pulled your hand away, but he grabbed it, “It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt.”

Blues, greens, and purples illuminating your shimmering skin as the plants around regained their bioluminescence. Anyone from the outside looking in would have thought you two were sharing affections, the plants livening around you, sanctifying the air you shared, that small, fleeting moment between the two of you peaceful amidst what had just happened. You cast your eyes away from him quickly though, unable to let yourself slip too deep into that peace, the horrible truth of reality striking at it like vipers.

Your ears twitched, voices coming through your telecom, immediately you turned around, craning your neck as you saw the bright, white lights of the extraction helicopter in the distance, snuffing out the glow of the plants. You could hear the general’s urgency as everyone was ordered to return to the helicopter.

“Get down. They might shoot if they see you.” You pulled him into the nearby brush, the tall, hanging leaves giving cover for you and Lo’ak.

As the helicopter neared and neared, its rotors whirred loudly, silencing the rest of the noises and filling your ears. Through the leaves, you saw the helicopter descend just above the tree line, multiple ropes dropping to the ground for extraction. Immediately, Quaritch stopped his crusade, falling back to the rally point, everyone else following after him. Grabbing onto the rope, he counted who he was with, but let go when he realized you weren’t there.

“Y/n? Do you read me? Get back to the rally point.” He commanded in his telecom, his voice desperate.

You were about to put your hands on your telecom but you stopped, your fingers hovering over the buttons. You didn’t expect to hesitate. From the moment you woke up, you felt scorned by the presence of your father. But as you heard his voice calling to you so desperately, what was left of that old you, who loved him so much, found its hold on your heart somehow.

“Y/n? Do you hear me? Get back to the rally point, now!” He yelled out. You could see him in front of you, frantically looking around.

General Ardmore was barking orders too, emotionless, “If she doesn’t come up Colonel. We’ll have to leave and come back tomorrow.”

Despite the whirring of the helicopter, your father’s voice was all you could hear in your head as he continued to scream out your name, the voice that taught you your every move and molded your every thought.

Still, you did nothing, eyes glued to your father in the distance, uncharacteristically panicky as he turned to the rest of his regiment, throwing his hands up, “Where’s my little girl?”

Lo’ak put a hand on your arm, his voice low, “Don’t tell me you’re gonna go back. That guy over there shot you, then left you.”

You looked at him, feeling the guilt within you rise, “Am I not so different from him? From all of them? I don’t belong here on Pandora and I don’t deserve to. If I stay here, I’d still be endangering you all.”

He kept his eyes planted on you, the sadness in your voice reinforcing him to be strong, “And if you go back, then what will happen to you? Will you just obey orders and watch your dad kill mine?” You looked at Lo’ak, your expression still conflicted and too aghast by his boldness to offer any protest. Yet, Lo’ak knew he got through to you, your expression softening as you let him lower your hands gently to the grass.

“Look, you chose to save me and my sister when you could have killed us.” He lifted his hand up, his palm grazing it as he took the earpiece out of your ear, his fingers traveling to your neck as he unclipped your telecom.

You froze, your senses wholly attuned to him as your mind could only focus on his voice, calm and slow as he spoke to you, “You told me yourself. You’re not the enemy.” He smirked at you, pressing a finger into your forehead, “Get that through your thick skull, won’t you?”

You couldn’t help a light laugh as your lips upturned, “I got through yours, so it’s only fair right?”

About to lift your gaze back on the helicopter, you stopped, rolling onto your back instead, relinquishing the ties of who you no longer wanted to be, unwilling even to grant them your eyes as they left you. You felt as if the tether to your father was being severed as the helicopter flew away, its whirring becoming distant and distant until finally, the tranquility of the forest returned as the bioluminescence reawakened around you. The feel of the grass and the air immersed you into that bliss, and no longer focused on the anger and hurt, you only wondered how you endured it for so long, how that tether was able to mark trauma into your skin and bones.

Lo’ak, although confused by your actions held no qualms about joining you, lying down, his eyes only on you the whole time. You turned your head slightly to look at him, and you felt that peace from before, no longer skewed but welcomed by you as you smiled at him, your gratefulness emanating from it.

Under your gaze, Lo’ak felt himself get shy, getting up quickly to hide the blush that would surely make itself known among the illumination of the flora around you.

“W-we should uh...look for my dad.” In his awkwardness, he was seemingly unsure, his tone expelling his words like a question.

Lo’ak put a hand out and you took it, “Yeah, Jake and I have a lot to catch up on.”

Once you stood up, you heard bellowing rustles in the distance, and immediately you took your defensive position, taking your knife out. Lo’ak also had his knife out, his back against yours as you both searched your perimeter. The rustling became footsteps, the sound approaching closer and closer until you saw a flash of blue rushing toward you, the lifting of a tomahawk making you dodge immediately.

“Jake I-!” He swung again, your knife barely blocking the weight of his tomahawk as you staggered backward.

“Dad! Stop!” Lo’ak yelled out, and hearing the rest of his family come, Neytiri already drawing her bow, he ran to her, pleading for her to put it down.

You ducked again as Jake continued to swing, backing away as you put your hands up, “Jake! It’s me! Y/n!” You yelled.

The adrenaline pumping in his veins was too prominent, not allowing him to recognize you as he continued to swing at you, each one more forceful than the last. Neteyam had also drawn his bow, but Tuk clung to his arms, disrupting his attempt at shooting you.

You fought back vigorously and when you had finally knocked the tomahawk out of his hands, you let go of your grip on him, kneeling on the dirt with your hands up as you spoke again, out of breath, “Jake. It’s me, y/n. You have to believe me.”

Blinking, he could finally hear you, your unmistakeable voice warping Jake’s mind, unwilling to accept the possibility, your appearance betraying the very memory of you, splicing who he remembered you to be from the mystery of who was kneeling in front of him.

He put a knife to your neck, his eyes pained as he tried to ignore the memories coming back to him in response to your voice, “You’re not! Y/n’s dead. She’s dead, okay? So, who are you?”

What proof did you have? Even if you showed him those photos, they wouldn’t be enough. All you had were your memories, and as you looked at Jake, so happy to see him again, you reached into your past in hopes that he would remember too.

“You know me, Jake Sully, and you know my father. He’ll stop at nothing to kill you and your family.” Jake gritted his teeth, his knife dipping into your neck more. You became teary-eyed as you continued to speak, but you were fierce in your tone, “Do you remember what I told you before the bulldozers came?” You asked.

“A father protects. It’s what gives him meaning.” You looked over at his family, their stares burning into you, “You have a family now, Jake. Let me help you protect them from my father.”

Jake dropped his knife, his mouth parting, the words he had lived by in all the time you were gone breathing life back into you, his eyes no longer looking, but Seeing. Every doubt he had in his mind disappeared into the night air as he said your name, the breath he expelled so soft in the wake of what he felt was another reality. You were alive, and when he had finally accepted that fact, he lifted you up from the ground, pulling you in for a hug.

“I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you before.” He said softly, “Blue never really was your color.”

You buried your face in his shoulder as you hugged him back, “Yeah well, it was always yours.”

You felt tears brim in your eyes as you lifted your head up and you could feel your whole body relax for the first time since you woke up. In the midst of your comfortable silence you suddenly heard him sniffle. You became moon-eyed, pulling back to see that he had tears falling from his eyes too.

You smiled at him, your old joking self returning as you laughed, “I see fatherhood’s turned you into a sap.” You put your hands up to his forehead, “And look at all the wrinkles on your forehead. You’re ancient.”

Scoffing, Jake pushed your hand away, tousling your hair, “You come back from the dead, and you’re still a little shit.”

“Whatever old man. I know you missed me.” You snarkily replied, weakly punching him in the arm.

He scoffed at you, winding his arm to punch you back when his face dropped, noticing your bound wound, “What happened? Did I shoot you?”

Lo’ak piped in, “It was one of the other soldiers. He was trying to kill me, but she took the bullet instead.”

He looked between you and Lo’ak. If there was still any doubt in his mind about who you were, it was easily erased. What you had done for his son directly mirrored what you had done for him all those years ago, every detail so ingrained in him that goosebumps adorned his body as he thought of it. Neytiri, who took her place beside Jake softened her eyes, having felt grateful to you for saving Jake’s life before, and once again for saving her son.

“I’m fine. You don’t need to worry. I’ve already put yanna bark on it. It’ll be better in no time.” You put your hands up, attempting to ease Jake.

He glared at you, “We’re going.” Jake turned to his eldest son, “Neteyam, take y/n back to camp.”

“No! I’ll take her back.” Lo’ak instantly protested, earning a knowing look from Neteyam, “It’s the least I can do after she took the bullet for me.”

“Fine Lo’ak,” His eyes were ensnared with warning, “You fly straight and slow, alright? Don’t be reckless in the air.”

“Yes sir.” Lo’ak answered, although he hardly meant it.

Everyone called their ikrans, all of them coming in like a swarm and gracefully descending to the forest floor. Jake flew off first, Neytiri, who was holding Tuk, followed after, then Neteyam ascended as well.

Making sure you were secure before taking off, Lo’ak looked over his shoulder at you, “Have you ever been on an ikran before?”

“Never.” You said, suddenly excited, wrapping your arms around his waist tightly, your chest hugging his back, “I don’t care what Jake says, I don’t want to go slow.”

Lo’ak couldn’t control himself as a satisfied grin took over his lips, “Good, ‘cause I wasn’t planning to.”

The minute he kicked off, you felt the exhilaration of being in the air hit you as you flew through the mist of the night, Lo’ak taking extra detours around the mountain, commanding the wind as you felt it underneath you. You had merely felt free before, but as you embraced the touch of the swirling air, infinite and timeless in its beauty, you knew you really were.

The day had felt excruciatingly long, and you felt so burdened by just being alive, the guilt, the hurt, and the pain encompassing you. But, being in the air with Lo’ak made those burdens feel like mere trivialities, and while you knew in the back of your mind that you would have to face them again, you let yourself feel that freedom you always longed to have and in its simplest form, you understood what it was you were really feeling.

You were happy.

But the thing about happiness is that it can vanish in an instant.

Your father was still out there, and having already been motivated to complete this mission by his own disposition, a new rage had sunk into his soul, catalyzing the torment he so desperately had to inflict.

Wainfleet finally admitted to your father what had happened to you, but in his deceitful cowardice, he left out one large truth.

“What did you say Lyle?” Quaritch asked impatiently.

“Sully. He shot her. She’s dead, Colonel.”

—

Author’s Note:

My lovers,

LYLE WAINFLEET IS A BITCHHH ISN’T HE???

let me know how you felt about chapter 1!! i’d love to hear your thoughts :)

endless thanks for all of you who have waited and continue to wait for the next parts!

for all those that wanted to be tagged for this next part, i’ve listed you all below! thank you so much!!

love,

nana <3

taglist [tumblr wouldn’t let me tag some of the blogs, but i didn’t want to leave anyone out!] :

@fifty-shades-of-mischeif @pretty-npeach @tonni30 @itsemy01 @23victoria @soobinsrose @starjane312 @valentineoxox @justlillythinking @mae-is-crazy @scarletrosesposts@paniniii @bloodyziggy @mister-police @mrs-sullys-blog @niiight-dreamerrrr @promiseofeywa @wilmalovegood @sssspencerrr @mochi-yu @d4rno @lovekeeho @dreama-little-dreamof-me @strawberryclouds22@tsunchani @sully-stick-together @scarletrosesposts @local-mr-frog @pirana10 @usernumder67 @im-kai-scotty @mae-is-crazy @ghoulbli @devil-on-acid @neteyamoa @iamparou @nightfalldia @a-queen-blr @aeclark041-blog1@justpassinbxx @mochi-yu @persondoingstuff @melatonindaydreamz @ducks118 @macncheese69420666 @rotten-toenails @rikidaily @extreamlycutecuban @iizx7y @bongwaterflavoredgatorade @lovekeeho @spicycloudsalad @perfectprofessorloverapricot @kind45 @skyri-revia22@blueblushedflwr @neteyamslovr @coldlamaspersonspy @jayinthecloset @lunamochii @littlethingsinlife @ok-boke @donaldsmac @slut4sluttybooks @zatarias-pandora @bol0-de-morang0 @dakotali @bajadotcom @bitchyzombienacho @siriusblackwh0re @wadiyatalkinabeetmate @eggyongies @galaxyfruits @kiricomics @fireflystoughts @reallysparklychaos @bwormie @glitter-in-my-heroin @kirikuki @katkat1918 @0-0h-0 @imthefunniestpersonalive @my-name-duh @mayabritjohn @annoyingstrawberryballoon @sometimesminsan @pearlrosegardener @aestheticcraze @animetrash12 @sbfandom @hrlzy @vhobuu @urforevermore @larkkyoris @usersjs-world @vampsclassiffied @razor-blayde @doromoni @lizzyloo22 @jimfiqs @hunylew @dreamergirljen

#avatar #avatar x reader #avatar way of water #avatar fanfiction #avatar loak #loak #loak sully #loak x reader #loak x you #loak x y/n #nanasavatarfics #nanasilwefic!

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tonyspank · 9 months

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CHAPTER SIX | THE PARTY & THE AFTER PARTY

A/N: It’s been a while, huh? Sorry if I didn’t get everyone for the tweets.

Anyways, it’s an end of an era guys. I hate this but, fuck it! 😭😭 Like I literally sat here, staring at this for about ten minutes wondering "should i actually post this" ts is so bad.

Warnings: 18+ smut, angst, and yeah i think that’s it?

It's been about thirty minutes since Jenna left your apartment in a hurry. You've sent her multiple messages asking her if everything is fine, but you hadn't gotten an answer yet. You started to worry and called her, but she didn't answer the phone. You sigh, glancing at Jack who was lying on the ground scrolling through his phone.

Why wasn't he on the sofa? You didn't know. You asked him why he was on the ground and he shrugged. "Comfy," he mutters, rolling onto his stomach. You eye him confused before letting out an, "Oh, okay..."

You watch him for a few seconds, before deciding that it's better to just leave him alone. Your Twitter app was downloading, you had gotten curious of what people were saying about you. You open the app and create a quick profile before typing in your name. You scroll through the tweets, relieved to see nothing too negative. It was actually pretty funny.

You laugh at some of the tweets before quickly logging out. You put your phone away and look at Jack again. "Wanna watch a movie?" Jack looks up from his phone, shrugging before getting up and sitting next to you on the couch. The two of you watch a couple of movies, chatting and laughing in between.

Every now and then you'll check your phone for a message from Jenna, but she never replies. When the movies are over, Jack yawns and tells you it's time for him to go. You both say your goodbyes and you watch him leave, wondering why Jenna still didn't reply.

You sit in the dark alone, feeling dejected. You check your phone one last time, but still, no message. You take a deep breath and tell yourself that it's okay, that Jenna will reply soon.

Suddenly there's a knock on your door. You open the door and there she is, Jenna. She smiles and tells you that she's sorry for not replying earlier. "I was worried. Did something happen?" She lets out a breath, shaking her head. "No, everything's great."

She steps inside and looks around. You can tell something is on her mind, but she doesn't say anything. Once she's fully inside you take notice of her outfit.

She wore a black corset with a sheer white long-sleeved undershirt and bow. Adding a hint of lace and elegance to the look were the shirt's bottom edges peeking through the tight-fitting garment. The effect was stunning, drawing the eye to her curves and delicate beauty. She was a sight to behold.

You were in complete awe at the sight of the woman in front of you. She smiled and you could feel your heart skip a beat. You were mesmerized by her beauty and poise.

She was the embodiment of perfection. "You look... amazing, absolutely breathtaking." She blushed and let out a small laugh. Her eyes twinkled as she flashed a smile. "Thank you, I'm glad you think so. I wanted to go out with you tonight, sorry for not calling ahead."

You were speechless, your mind racing with excitement. "Of course, I'd love to go out with you." You smiled, feeling your heart swell with happiness. She beamed in response. "Okay. Go get dressed."

You rushed into your room, quickly throwing on the nicest clothes you could find. You glanced in the mirror, taking a moment to appreciate the butterflies in your stomach before you rejoined her. You were ready for the night, eager to make the most of it.

Jenna's driver was outside of your building and soon you were being led out of the car and into a club, camera flashes flickering nearly every second. Jenna wraps her arm around yours, not caring about the paparazzi.

You glance around, taking in the scene as Jenna leads you to the VIP area. You lean into Jenna's ear so she can hear you above the music. "Is anyone else here?"

Jenna nodded and pointed to a group of people at a nearby table. She smiled and said, "Let's go say hi." As you walked over, you recognized some of the faces of the company. It was Melissa, Mason, and Jasmin. You greeted them warmly and exchanged pleasantries before taking a seat at the table.

"You guys look cute!" Melissa says, smiling as she places down her drink. After a few moments of conversation, Jenna leans into your side, placing her head on your shoulder. You blush, a shy smile playing on your lips as you put your arm around Jenna's waist.

You can feel Jenna's warm breath against your neck as you look around the room, your eyes meeting Mason's. He continues to talk about Sam should be the next Ghostface in the new Scream.

Jasmin nods in agreement, her eyes going wide. "Exactly! It would be a great plot twist, plus! I just know Melissa would eat up the entire thing." You laugh, nodding your head as well. Melissa laughs, "I don't know. Isn't Sam's whole deal trying to not become her father?"

Jasmin looks thoughtful for a moment. "Maybe that can be the twist! Sam has to become her father in order to save the day." You turn your head a bit, "Didn't she kind of do that in this movie?" Jasmin nods and smiles. "Yes! But this time she'll become him completely. She'll be in the suit for more than three minutes, she'll do phone calls, and all sort of Ghostface stuff." She takes a breath and claps her hands. "It'll be epic!"

Jenna squeezes your thigh and you turn your head towards her as everyone continues the topic. "You look really good in your suit tonight." You blush and smile at the compliment. "Thanks," you reply, taking Jenna's hand in yours. "I really like spending time with you, Y/N."

Jenna leans in closer and kisses you, her lips lingering for a few moments before you pull away, blushing. You can feel your heart racing as you look into her eyes, not expecting her to kiss you in front of her friends.

Jenna smiles at you, her eyes twinkling. She leans in for another kiss and you feel a sensation spread through your body. You can hear the others talking around you, but you're too lost in the moment to care.

You take a deep breath and smile. "I like spending time with you too," you reply, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. Jenna smiles looking around at her friends, then back at you, her face flushed. "Let's go somewhere more private," she whispers in your ear.

You both stand up, hands intertwined and make your way out of the room. As you walk away, you can feel the eyes of everyone watching you with a mix of envy and admiration. You both can't wait to get to a place more private, where you can finally be alone. You quickly enter the bathroom, locking the door. Once you're away from prying eyes, you share a passionate kiss.

Your lips and tongues move in sync, creating a beautiful harmony. You both can't keep your hands off each other. You both know where this is heading, and you're not afraid of it. Jenna pulls away, panting a bit. "You make me feel so alive."

She looks into your eyes, and you can feel the connection between you. You lean in and kiss her again, this time longer and more passionate. You know that this time, you are not going to be able to keep yourself from going further.

Your hands roam her black corset, searching for the string. "How the fuck do I take this off?" You mumble against her lips. Jenna giggles and reaches behind her back. With a few quick tugs, the corset falls to the ground. You let out a sigh of relief, pulling her close and kissing her deeply. She wraps her arms around your neck, and you lift her off the ground, placing her on top of the marble sink counter.

You trace your fingertips along her curves as you kiss her neck. She gasps in pleasure and pulls you closer. "Shit," she moans. You begin unbuttoning her undershirt, revealing her smooth, soft skin. You kiss her neck and shoulders as your hands begin to explore her body. She responds with a shudder of pleasure as you gently caress her.

She takes your hand and guides it to her breast, taking a deep breath as you cup it. Your other hand travels down her body, tracing her curves until you reach her hips. She moans in anticipation as you attach your lips to her nipple, caressing and massaging it with your tongue.

She wraps her legs around you and pulls you in closer, her breathing becoming heavier with each passing second. You move your other hand further down and slip it inside her, feeling the warmth of her body. She gasps in pleasure as you begin to explore her, your movements becoming more urgent.

Her hands knocks off your hat, fisting your hair as she moans your name. Your fingers move faster and faster, her body shakes with pleasure. She pulls you even closer and her body tightens as the pleasure builds.

You feel her muscles tense and her breathing becomes ragged as she reaches the peak of pleasure. Finally, she lets out a loud cry as she shudders in release, her grip on you loosening. "Fuck!"

You pull away, both of you panting and sweaty, your eyes meeting and a satisfied smile on both of your lips. She wraps her arms around you, holding you close as the wave of pleasure passes through her. She takes a deep breath and a satisfied sigh escapes her lips. You kiss her gently, not wanting to break the moment.

She looks up at you with a twinkle in her eye and whispers, "That was amazing." You smile and hug her tightly, feeling the same way. "We should go back before they wonder what's taking so long."

That was the last time you saw Jenna, well, that night exactly. You never imagined that would be the last time you'd see each other. You've been thinking about her ever since. It was like a goodbye that never happened.

You've tried to reach out to her, but she hasn't responded. You had seen her on social media doing interviews, but something that hurt ten times worse was that she was hanging out with Percy.

You were not sure if you wanted to reach out again or if it was time to move on. You felt confused and heartbroken. You had no idea what to do next.

Days turned into weeks and then weeks turned into months. You decided that it was time to move on. You finally accepted that it wasn't meant to be. You unfollowed her on Instagram and blocked her number. You started to feel free again. You no longer felt the need to check her profile or see what she was up to.

You felt a sense of closure, knowing that it was finally over. Even though it hurt to do it, you realized it was the best thing for both of you. You started to focus on yourself and your own life. You slowly began to heal and move on.

You still talk to Mason and Jack, meeting more of their famous friends. Some being Dylan Minette, Bailey Bass, Devyn Nekoda, and even Olivia Rodrigo. You started to feel more confident and even enjoyed the thrill of meeting new people.

You started to feel accepted and like you belonged. You no longer felt like an outsider, but like you were part of something bigger than yourself. You felt a sense of belonging and purpose in this new world you had been welcomed into.

Speaking of Jack, Mason and their famous friends, Bailey is joining the three of you to watch Olivia perform. Bailey was a part of the same group of friends and was welcomed in with open arms. When Olivia began to perform, the four of you were mesmerized. She had a beautiful voice.

"Oh my god! I can't believe I'm watching Taylor Swift's Prodigy live in action!" Jack screams. You playfully roll your eyes at the boy before Bailey smiles and laughs as you all enjoy the view. You can tell Olivia has worked hard, and you are proud of her for making it this far. After the performance, you all exit the venue, waiting for Olivia.

She eventually appears, beaming with joy and relief. She quickly walks to you, engulfing you in a tight hug. You congratulate her and tell her she did an amazing job, and she smiles brightly at your words. Bailey and the boys clap and cheer for her, "Amazing! I loved it." Jack says, she blushes and replies, "Thank you all so much." She hugs each of them in turn, feeling the warmth and support of her friends.

"This dude was literally screaming in my ear in excitement." You joke, using your thumb to point at Jack. Everyone laughs and Jack shrugs. "It was a great performance!" he defends. "That's true," You agree with a nod, "but you really didn't have to shout at me." You smile teasingly and Jack laughs, shaking his head. "Alright, alright," he concedes. "I'll be a bit quieter next time."

Mason speaks up with a smile on his face. "We're about to go out to eat. Do you want to come?" He asks Olivia. She ponders a bit before shaking her head, "Maybe next time. I'm a bit tired." Mason nods in understanding. He stands up and says, "Alright, take it easy. We'll catch up another time." He turns to the rest of the group and says, "Let's go."

The couldn't prepare yourself for the morning after. You had woken up by the knocking on your front door, and when you opened it, you were met with Jenna. You stood there, not knowing what to say or how to react. Jenna stared at you with an intensity that sent a chill down your spine.

A part of you wanted to hug her and tell her how much you missed her, while the other part of you wanted to slam the door in her face and laugh at the fact that she thinks she can just crawl back into your life after months of ghosting you.

You took a deep breath and stepped aside, allowing her to come in. You both stood in silence, the tension between you thick in the air. You waited for her to explain why she was there. She looked up at you and finally spoke. "I'm here to apologize," she said.

You weren't sure if you wanted to accept it, but you also felt a wave of relief. You nodded, and she stepped closer. She continued, her voice wavering. "I'm sorry for how I treated you. I didn't mean to shut you out like that."

You were surprised, unsure how to react. She looked up at you with hopeful eyes. You shake your head, thinking back on how sad and lost you felt, how she just left without an explanation. You had spent so many nights alone, angry and confused. Here she was, after all these months, asking for forgiveness.

"Why would you let me get attached to you just to leave?" She looked away, her eyes welling up with tears. She began motioning with her hands, her voice rising. "I told you! I—I'll be busy and I come with a lot." She looked away, her voice breaking. You stayed silent, your heart pounding.

"I don't understand how you could be so okay with leaving me out of your life for so long! And here I am watching you be fucking buddy-buddy with Percy and smoke! You're smoking after you were the one who told me smoking was so bad for my health?!" You felt so angry and hurt, you were starting to realize that maybe they weren't meant to be together after all.

"I told you. Percy is just a friend. I only started smoking because it reminded me of you." You looked away, not wanting to let her see the tears in your eyes. She put a hand on your shoulder and leaned in, whispering, "Don't cry. I'm sorry for not being there for you."

You turned to face her, and she wiped away your tears. You push her hands away, shaking your head. "Y/N, c'mon. I've—tried! Okay? I tried calling you and texting you, but you didn't answer me either."

You looked away, feeling guilty. "I blocked you. I kept checking my phone every single second hoping to hear from you, so I blocked to you stop." She sighed and nodded, understanding. "You are the first person that I've fully been vulnerable with." She looked down at her hands, her voice filled with sadness.

"Maybe I am too obsessed with my work." She looked up, her eyes meeting yours. "But I tried for us. I tried with you. It's just been so stressful! One second it's an interview, then it's something about the press, then it's something about you!"

You said nothing, just nodded. You were relieved that she finally opened up to you, but you were also filled with a sense of sadness. She took a deep breath, more tears forming in her eyes. "It's all just been too much," she whispered. "I'm so sorry." You wrapped your arms around her and just held her. You could feel her shaking as she tried to keep her emotions under control.

You felt your own tears beginning to fall. "I think we should stop seeing each other. I uh, I don't think it's fair for either of us, all the stress, you know?" She looked away, her eyes glassy and red.

Your palms hold Jenna's face, staring into her eyes. You slowly leaned in, pressing your forehead to hers, and holding her tight. Jenna's arms wrapped around you, holding you close as her own tears began to fall again. "I love you, Y/N."

You pulled away and looked into her eyes, trying to hold back your tears. You slowly ran your fingers through her hair and whispered, "I love you too." You leaned in and kissed her gently, bringing her back into a hug. You held her close as the tears began to flow.

You both knew it would be the last time you'd be together. You held each other for what felt like an eternity, neither of you wanting to let go. Finally, you stepped back, and she wiped away your tears. You smiled sadly at each other, and she walked away, leaving you standing there alone in your apartment.

The door shut and that's when you fell apart, your tears coming back with a vengeance. You sank to the floor, unable to stop your body from shaking with sobs. You felt like you had been walking through a fog and now it had finally cleared, leaving you with a clarity that hurt.

#reader insert #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #wattpad #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #jenna x reader #jenna ortega x gn!reader #jenna ortega x g!p reader #jenna ortega smut #jenna x g!p reader #jenna x y/n #the party & the after party

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