#y/n can play the piano

[beauleifu]

Hello beau, it's my first time asking in your blog so I'm pretty nervous (｡>﹏<｡)

so uh imagine Y/N has a piano (I think they also got one on Heartstrings fic?) and then they suddenly played Golden Hour in front of Syntax with adoration in Y/N's eyes

what would be his reaction? 👀

Anyway, if you don't know what Golden Hour, this is the song

YESS I LOVE THAT SONG, love it with a passion! And Y'ALL SYNTAX LOVERS COME GET YO JUICE (i've been gettina lot of asks regarding that lovely asshole)

Anyways, hope you enjoy! This one's a lol short <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SYNTAX X READER

Lego Monkie Kid

Context: You wake up in the middle of the night, only to indulge in your musical hobbies that you've been neglecting to take care and entertain your lovely roommate. You thought he'd stay asleep, but you were wrong.

CW: None

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Cold.

It's sweat, sticking to your body and the blanket that covers you. Grunting uncomfortably within the heat of your cocoon, you grip the edge and fling the blanket right off of you.

Sucking in a sharp breath, you sit up and stare.

You ache, not with sickness but from the way you'd banged around in your sleep, trapped in the horrors of your own mind.

It's late, the clock reading 3:26 a.m.

The window is shut tight, but the curtains had been pulled open, revealing the gibbous moon shrouded in clouds above the softly glowing city buildings. Despite burning with sweat, a sudden chill sweeps over your quaking figure, ghosts of your night terror prodding your brain.

A desire to escape seizes you, so strong that you leave your room, not bothering to be quiet.

The hallway is dark - everything is dark.

Suddenly wishing you'd grabbed a blanket for the ride, you clutch yourself tightly, shivering. Thoughts do, thankfully, leave you be, and you're free to wander your apartment without a care in the world.

The kitchen is your destination, sadly offering no more light than your previous occupations. You wince at the noise when you open the cabinets, drawing out a glass to fill it with water. And then, it's quiet once more. You stand, quite lonely-like, in the center of the kitchen, with nothing but a bare sheen of moonlight to illuminate your surroundings. A small part of your consciousness hints at a certain roommate waking up, but it's not very strong.

Slowly, the piano in the corner of the living room is brought to attention.

Like a twinkling, black canvas just waiting for you to explore it.

Thing is . . . it's been awhile.

Having a new roommate gave you a lot of new objectives, taking away each of your small pleasures one by one. It never bothered you, of course, but the piano does look lonely in the shadows. And it's been gathering dust.

Your baby.

You look around, finally coming to awareness.

Would Syntax wake up?

The soft thumb of your footsteps lead you towards the piano, already coming to a decision. You'd play quietly.

Besides, you need a distraction.

Gently placing the cup of water on the lid, you drag the piano bench out and sit upon it's velvety cushions. Your fingers tremble already with anticipation. Blowing out a quiet breath, you lift the fallboard, and with sparkling eyes scan the black and white keys beneath. Syntax won't wake up . . . if he did, this'll put him right back to sleep, anyways.

You already have a song in mind to play.

For a few minutes, you're just lightly tapping keys, making sure the piano is properly tuned. Then, the lasting anxiety just has you tenderly (yet gently) playing the softest tune you can.

Then, you're ready.

You start off just as quietly as before, playing a song you'd learned well.

". . ."

A smile tweaks the corners of your lips at the fond tune. Oh, you missed this, so much.

And then, it's time for your vocals to join.

"It was just two lovers,

Sittin' in the car, listening to Blonde,

Fallin' for each-other

Pink and orange skies, feelin' super childish,

It's no Donald Glover

Missed call from my mother Like, "Where you at tonight?"

Your smile grows wide as you continue, fingers dancing elegantly over the keys. It's a warm, fond feeling, as though you're floating on a cloud. 3am piano playing never fails.

No one is here. You're blissfully alone.

Just you, your voice, and the piano at your fingertips-

Green eyes flash into view.

At first you think nothing of it, softly singing as you tap the chords. But then you see it again, beyond the lid of the piano, and your eyes dart up for a second.

In that brief moment, you catch a figure standing just beyond the piano, dressed in plaid, dark pajamas.

Syntax gazes right back, green eyes wide.

Oh shit.

You'd woken him up, you'd disturbed him in his sleep-

What was once your heart is now a hammering, freezing chunk of shot nerves and guilt. You're about to stop playing, lips already maneuvering to apologize for your carelessness - but Syntax is quicker. He reacts with the subtlest movements of his already raised hands, fingers splaying outwards as though trying to calm you down. As though saying 'hold on, it's all right'.

You notice his eyes, then, filled with surprise - yet a mixture of awe and adoration that shoos your panic and doubts away like little butterflies. They settle in your chest, a flurry of nervousness and excitement.

Syntax then tilts his head slightly, encouraging you to keep playing.

Your smile returns.

The piano is once again lit up with music.

"I was all alone with the love, of my life,

He's got glitter for skin,

My radiant bean in the night," you sing, tweaking the lyrics to better suit your partner. He takes a small step forward, then another, a rare smile blossoming on his features.

Your eyes dip down for the briefest of moments to the keyboard, but for the most part, you're locked within Syntax's beautiful eyes.

Then, the song slowly comes to an end, the last note ringing softly.

You smile uncontrollably.

Yes. Syntax had woken up, but it was worth it.

To see that smile.

"That was stunning, my darling," Syntax is saying as you shut the fallboard, walking forward with his hands outstretched. "I had no idea you could play the piano."

You're quick to come around the piano and fall into his arms. "Did I wake you?"

"I'm glad you did."

For a brief moment, you allow the guilt to motivate your next words. "But you're finally letting yourself sleep more," you pout.

Syntax smiles down at you, features warm and genuine.

"Darling, I will sleep more if you play your sweet songs more often."

"You really like making deals, huh."

"I like making deals with you, love," Syntax hums. He tucks his hand in its rightful place under your ear, fingers brushing gently across the nape of your neck. You grin up at him, thrilled with the song that still echoes through you.

So he's willing to bargain. Good. "I'll play the piano more if you sleep more."

"I'll sleep more if you play the piano."

"So we have a deal?"

Syntax leans down, taking your lips in his in a soft kiss. You grasp his arms, one hand going up to cup his cheek. The darkness no longer bothers you, no longer chills your bones.

You're body is warm with the heat of Syntax's embrace. And suddenly, you don't want to be anywhere else.

Why the hell did you make Syntax sleep on the couch again?

Oh.

That's right.

He was being an asshole. Funny how a little key-playing can wrap him right back around your little finger.

The spider demon leans back, eyeing your features. "What's that look for?"

"I just realized something," you say innocently.

"And what is that?"

You take his hand, tugging him gently to the couch. Or to your room. You can sleep anywhere right now, and considering it's only 4 am, there's plenty of time left to catch some Z's. "I'm tired. That's what I realized. And so are you, so come."

"To bed? I thought I was banished to the couch," Syntax teases, barely hiding the surprise in his tone.

Sighing, you smile at him. "I've had a change of heart."

Green eyes blink at you, full of fondness. Even in the shadows of night, his facial features are softly illuminated by traces of moonlight. Once upon a time, you were afraid of that face.

But now it only brings a smile to your lips.

Suddenly, the spider demon bends down, strong arms slipping under your legs and arms. In one move he picks you up bridal style, halfway across the living room. You gasp in surprise, rolling your eyes at Syntax's next words.

"So have I."

"Pfft!" You say, swatting his shoulder. "All right, you. Now you're banished to my room for the rest of the night."

He cocks a brow, sharp teeth showing through his smile.

"Banishment is supposed to be a bad thing."

"Don't worry, I have a plan."

Syntax merely smirks at you, tightening his grip for a brief moment. You lean against him, smiling fondly. Maybe you should play the piano at 3am more often.

[23victoria]

“can you watch my boyfriend for a sec?” ❁

f1 grid x fem!reader

summary: TikTok trend with the grid!!

authors note: saw the carlos one and knew i had to write about it!! his reaction made me laugh!! i also just saw mclaren do it to oscar!! i hope the other teams do it to their drivers as well!! also first time writing for seb, jenson, and daniel, i had the time so i said why not?!any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!!

f1 masterlist

Lewis

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to grab something from the car."

You head out, leaving Lewis alone in front of your phone's camera. He looks around, slightly bewildered.

"What? Y/N who’s on the phone? Uh, hey there. I guess I'm being watched. So... how's everyone doing? Good? Cool. Uh, any Mercedes fans here?" He starts talking about his day and how Roscoe is doing, trying to entertain the 'audience'. "Alright, she'll be back any minute now... right?"

Max

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to take out the trash."

Max raises an eyebrow as you walk away. He looks at the phone, unsure of what to say.

"Huh? Um, okay. This is weird. Hi, everyone….I guess…..Y/N what is this?! Who’s on the phone? So…what do we do now? Should I... talk about racing? Or... maybe I could just sit here…?" He awkwardly shuffles in his seat, checking his watch. "How long does it take to throw out the trash? Y/N come back! I don’t know what to say or do!"

Lando

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to get a drink from the kitchen."

Lando grins as you walk away, immediately knowing the TikTok trend. He leans in closer to the camera.

"Hey, TikTok! I was wondering when Y/N was going to do this trend on me! What have you guys been up to? Should I prank her back? Give me some ideas in the comments!" He starts to look around, trying to find something to do. "Should I play some games on my computer or maybe I'll hide and jump out when she gets back?"

Oscar

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to get my food."

Oscar blinks, looking at the phone and then at the door you just walked towards. He frowns slightly.

"Huh? What….okay? Uh, hi? I guess you guys are going to watch me eat my breakfast…Not sure what I'm supposed to do here. Should I be saying something interesting?" He scratches his head, and moves his food around, clearly uncomfortable. "So, did you guys have breakfast yet? I hope you did, breakfast is important….uhhh yea. Y/N!! Babe!! Come back!! I don’t know what to do!!"

Charles

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to take a call."

Charles watches you leave, then looks at the phone, confused but trying to be polite.

"Uh? Wait what? Hello, everyone. I guess your...on watch duty?" He laughs nervously. "This feels strange. Maybe I should sing a song? Or talk about Ferrari? Oh, I know, I'll play some music on my piano!" He moves towards the piano, but then hesitates. "Wait, how long is this call going to be? Y/N! Baby!!"

Carlos

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to make a smoothie."

Carlos looks at the camera, then at the direction you went, raising an eyebrow.

“What is this? Hello? Anyone there? Who were you talking to? Y/N?! Uhhhh hi… Wait, a smoothie? Bebe make me one too please! Okay, hi everyone. This is Carlos, just here... being watched?" He starts looking around, picking up random items on the table. "So, let me show you my favorite things on this table. This is a cool pen, and this is... a coaster. Fascinating, right?" He chuckles, shaking his head. "This is so weird. How long does making a smoothie take anyway?"

Sebastian

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to water the plants."

Sebastian gives you a puzzled look as you leave and then turns to the camera, smiling politely.

"What?! Y/N what is this? Hello? Hello? Anywhere there? I’m confused… Y/N!! Who were you talking too? Honey? … Um, hello everyone… I guess I'm under surveillance now." He chuckles. "So, while she's watering the plants, let's talk about... sustainability! Did you know you can make your own compost at home? It's really simple and great for your garden." He starts explaining the process, gesturing enthusiastically. "I hope she comes back soon because I might run out of eco-friendly tips! Oh wait!! I know! Let me show you my bees!!"

Jenson

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to grab the mail."

Jenson watches you leave with a bemused smile, then looks at the phone.

"Ummm what?! Babe? Y/N? Hello? Uhhh..hey there. So, I guess I need to be watched for a minute. You guys are in babysitting duty? Let’s see... what can I do to entertain you?" He glances around and spots his dogs. "Hey, meet my dogs! Come here babies!." He tries to get their attention but Bentley and Rouge ignore him, while Storm walks up to him, just to sit and stare at him. "Well, that didn’t go as planned. I guess they’re tired from playing this morning. Oh well, maybe next time! Isn’t that right Storm." he says putting down the camera.

Daniel

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to fix something in the bathroom."

Daniel immediately grins and laughs as you walk away, sensing a prank.

“Huh? Babe? What? Oh wait! It’s that TikTok trend!! Alright, what’s up TikTok, what's going on? He starts making funny faces at the camera and then leans in closer. "I have no idea what to talk about. This is so stupid and awkward.” He says bursting out laughing. He keeps glancing towards the bathroom, barely containing his laughter. "Babe come back!!"

© 23victoria 2024 I all rights reserved. do not republish, steal repost, modify, translate, or claim my work as your own.

[choso4u]

AREN'T I CHEESY?

ᝰ.ᐟ sypnosis: jjk men reactions when you tell them dirty pick-up lines

GOJO Y/N: Hey Toru, I can be your piano. Gojo: Why baby? Y/N: You can play with me using your fingers until I make a beautiful sound. Gojo: ... Gojo: Very well, sweetheart. Come over here, looks like I could use some piano lessons. Y/N: I was just joking.

GETO Y/N: Are you an elevator? Geto: With all due respect, I am not. Y/N: Just say 'why' goddamit. Geto: *sighs* Geto: Why? Y/N: Because I wanna go up and down on you. Geto: ... Geto That’s a good one. But may I remind you that you don't last 2 minutes. Y/N: Bitch—

CHOSO Y/N: Can i be your ketchup bottle? Choso: Is this another cheesy pick-ip line? Y/N: Maybe. Choso: *breathes deeply* Choso: Okay, why? Y/N: Because you can hit it from the back while I squirt. Choso: *chokes on saliva and clears throat* Choso: If that's what you want, then why not? Y/N: *flabbergasted*

NANAMI Y/N: Wish I was wine. Nanami: Huh? Y/N: So you can lap me up real good. Nanami: *rubs the bridge of his nose* Nanami: Isn't that what I always do? You're getting brave aren't you? Fuckin' brat. Y/N: I— Nanami: Save it. Get over here and let me have a drink. You taste better than wine after all. Y/N: Kento...

TOJI Y/N: Hey, I like math. Toji: No you don't. You're a dumb bitch. Y/N: Shut up. My favorite equation is doing 34+35 with you. Toji: ... Toji: Oh yeah? I like math too. I can add the bed, subtract the clothes, divide the legs, and then we could multiply. Y/N: Woah. Y/N: What a genius.

[d4yl1ghts]

late escapes (1)

benedict bridgerton x shy, fem!reader

summary: the second bridgerton son finds you outside and an unlikely spark flies between you two

warnings: mentions of anxiety, anxiety attack (not really though)

A/N- i promise the next fic i post will be anthony guys

part 2

-

Attempting to catch your breath from the bustling atmosphere of the ball, you decided to breathe in some fresh air. You leaned against the wall as your breathing gradually yet slowly decreased. As you thought back to the overwhelming outfits and decor, your heartbeat raced in fear. You were personally never one to enjoy the events of the social season. They usually left you feeling rather anxious and breathless.

Hiding behind a boundless and beautifully engraved pillar, you silently cleared your mind and opened your eyes and noticed a chestnut-haired and handsome man staring at you in concern from across the garden. Once you had made eye contact, he decided to make his way toward you. “You look like you’re having a tough time over there.”, he called as he made his way over. It was almost teasingly but once he noticed your forced laughter, he stopped.

“Are you alright… Lady Y/N, I believe?”, he questioned. “Yes, I was just in need of some fresh air and time alone, Mister Bridgerton.”, you admitted. “Oh, I’ll go back inside then.”, he chuckled slightly. “No, it’s fine. Sorry.”, you laughed awkwardly. “Well, I thought I would come out here to escape the mamas, they’re so pestering and irritating, I needed to escape them.”, he huffed playfully as he recalled the interaction. You giggled as you imagined it. “I don’t think you can blame them.”, you replied, not acknowledging the meaning behind the words.

Benedict stared at you and smirked charmingly. “I know. A handsome man who is a talent at art. Who can blame them?”, he repeated your words from earlier with a cocky smirk on his face. You rolled your eyes as your cheeks flushed slightly but thankfully the dim lighting hid it. “You enjoy doing art?”, you questioned. “That is what I just said. No, I’m only joking. Yes, I do a lot of art in my free time.”, he nodded his head. “Wow, I never would have took you to be an arts man.”, you responded as you smiled at him.

“Really? Why not?”, he truly wanted to know but he mostly wanted to keep talking with you. “I don’t know, I thought you’d enjoy horse riding perhaps.”, you answered, not really knowing how to respond- you simply were just shocked by the fact and you didn’t know why. “Oh, I do enjoy horse riding, just not as much as art.”, he sent a gentle smile your way. “Do you have any passions?”, he asked. “I suppose I do enjoy reading and playing the piano.”, you confessed shyly. “My sister, Eloise, enjoys reading, I’m sure you would get along well and my other sister, Francesca, enjoys the pianoforte.”, he stated as he gazed thoughtfully into the distance. Were you going to meet his family in the future?, you thought to yourself.

“Yes, you do have a few siblings, is it seven or eight?”, you asked as you took in his features whilst he looked the other way. Grey-blue eyes that glistened in the moonlight and his perfectly swept chestnut hair. He was quite the man. You weren’t sure how he hadn’t caught your eye before. Perhaps you were too focused on escaping the event to notice him.

“Eight.”, he simply answered.

Abruptly, he turned back to face you and noticed you sitting there idly as you absorbed his facial structure. He cleared his throat to get your attention. “Shall we return to the ball? We can hide in a corner together so I can escape the hunting mamas and you can escape the attention.”, he offered. You smiled at that. He was so understanding, he just automatically knew how you were feeling and you had only known him for a few minutes (or so it felt like it). Time flies when you’re having fun, as they say.

“I would love to hide away in a corner with you, Benedict.”, you replied innocently. Benedict attempted to contained his laughter but failed. He simply laughed at you as you realised what you said. “No.”, you said as you giggled and headed back inside to hide in a corner with Benedict.

[landososcar]

so american ; CL16

pairing(s) ; charles leclerc x american!reader

summary ; in which a trip to monaco turns permenant because of one ferrari racing driver

warnings ; fast paced relationship, smau, google translated french (pls correct anything that’s wrong) & FLUFFF

note ; lol sorry i lowkey disappeared. anyways. here’s charles and leo (aka everyone’s fav duo)

instagram !

liked by friend1, charlesleclerc, and others

youruser leo & i might never leave 🥰🇲🇨

view all comments

friend1 monaco is so so beautiful

yourbff you can’t leave me here alone in the us

youruser but…

charles_leclerc im stealing her

yourbff you’ve know her for 3 weeks

charles_leclerc whats your point ??

friend2 the states miss you come home

friend3 leo has a new lap to sit in????

yourbff i feel cheated on

charles_leclerc i’ll make sure you don’t leave ☺️❤️

youruser having the best time of my life with you🫶

yourbff saying you’re not gonna let her leave is kinda creepy not gonna lie…

charles_leclerc you’re just jealous coz she doesn’t wanna go back to the us and wants to stay with me

friend4 you look so happy😁

instagram !

liked by fan1, fan2, and others

cl16updating recent pictures of charles with a puppy, fans who asked him about the dog say his name is leo and he is not charles dog but he is staying with him for a while!! we are also unsure who the girl in his car in the last picture is, if anyone has any idea please share her instagram @ with us!!!!!!!!

view all comments

fan1 omg he’s not his dog??? i’m devastated now i wanted leo paddock appearances

fan2 idk maybe if you guys find her instagram @ don’t share it,, if charles wanted us to know about her he’d share with us

fan3 if she doesn’t want us to know about her maybe she shouldn’t hang out with the prince of monaco

fan4 she should be able to hang with whoever she wants. some of y’all are so weird

fan5 imma steal that dog

fan6 that means we probs won’t get leo in the paddock😭

fan7 maybe leo is the girls’ dog and she’s a friend of charles visiting him or something idk

imessages !

translation 1: ‘i’ll miss you so much’

translation 2: ‘we can be crazy together, my love’

twitter !

instsgram !

youruser added to the story!

charles_leclerc added to his close friends story!

charles_leclerc replied to your story

↳ you always do baby

↳ god you’re so cheesy

↳ i hate you

↳ can we go back home i miss leo

↳ charlie babe leo will be fine by himself for 3 hours

↳ i know i know

↳ i just love him so much

you replied to charles_leclerc’s story

↳ CHARLIE DELETE

↳ THE DOGS ARE OUT😭😭😭

↳ LEO GOT OUT??????????????? WHERE IS HE ??? IS HE SAFE??? DID SOMEONE FIND HIM??:??;??/??

↳ omg baby no leo’s fine i’m sorry for worrying you

↳ why would you joke about that

↳ i think i nearly had a heart attack

↳ you’re more obsessed with leo than me

instagram !

liked by user1, user2, and others

f1wagupdates charles and his girlfriend (leo’s mum — we don’t know her name) this saturday. the owner of the first pic said that they were out for dinner with pascale, arthur, lorenzo, and their girlfriends.

view all comments

user1 she so beautiful oh my god

user2 where’s leo

user3 girl she doesn’t have to take him everywhere

user4 i think her name is y/n… my cousin in america said that she looks like someone she used to go to school with

user5 i looked through charles’ following and he follows a private account with that name @youruser

user6 ooo that could be her fs

user7 did she really leave leo alone.. she’s a bad owner wtf

user8 leo is a dog he’ll be ok by himself for a few hours omg you just want a reason to hate her go touch grass

twitter !

twitter !

instagram !

liked by carlossainz55, lorenzotl, and others

charles_leclerc happy gorgeous amazing month ☺️❤️

view all comments

user1 CHARLES who is THAT

user2 Y/N CONTENT ON THE MAIN ‼️‼️‼️

carlossainz55 whipped

user3 omg is she playing his piano

user4 yes with her feet

youruser love love love you

charles_leclerc chérie💓💓

user4 anyone else think they’re moving REALLY quickly…. like i heard they’re living together already

user5 who CAREEESSSSS

user6 it’s none of our business

yourbff you’re all she talks about oh my GOD

charles_leclerc are you jealous

instagram !

liked by leclerc_pascale, yourbff, and others

youruser “too much, too soon” i’m living with him lol

view all comments

yourbff remember when we had conversations that weren’t about him

youruser wdym

yourbff i hate him

yourbff you’re OBSESSED with him

yourbff you guys are DISGUSTING

youruser you sound jealous

yourbff i AM. that little french driving man STOLE my best friend

charles_leclerc FRENCH????????

friend1 miss you 🫶🫶

joris__trouche ❤️

friend2 come visit soon we miss youuuu

friend3 you’re so so so gorgeous

charles_leclerc MON AMOURRR

charles_leclerc YOURE SO BEAUTIFUL I WANNA KISS YOUR FACE

yourbff can you get me a ticket to the miami gp so i can see my wife pls

charles_leclerc no you’re gonna try steal her back

yourbff @youruser ur boyfriend is being mean to me

youruser charlie i lost my miami paddock pass can you get me another one pls but like could you put it under the name y/bff/n y/bff/ln please, for no reason☺️

charles_leclerc okay baby💓💓

youruser stop it i love you so so much you’re so adorable😭

leclerc_pascale Leo ❤️

youruser he misses you 🥰

imessages !

my other works !

[withahappyrefrain]

The 5 Times You Flirted With Bob + The 1 Time He Picked Up on It

Summary: You've fallen for your friend and have decided to drop some hints that you're flirting. Unfortunately, Bob doesn't realize that immediately.

Warnings: Language, no y/n, female reader, reader has a callsign (Honey)

Thank you to @dissonannce for this amazing idea. Thank you @acewritesfics for the dividers!

"Your hands are so big."

It took Bob a moment to register that you were in fact, talking to him.

"Oh! Um yeah. My ma made me do piano because she felt I was given the hands for them," Bob wiggled his fingers for extra effect, "Y'know, since they're so long."

Yes, they were quite long. It was one of the first things you noticed about Bob. Well, after you noticed his beautiful blue eyes, his endearing lopsided smile, the way he was so considerate of everyone else, so gentle, and yet there was an underlying confidence about him. He was sure of himself, but he didn't feel the need to brag.

Who could blame you for falling head over heels for him?

You flashed him a smile, hand reaching towards his.

"It's just, your hand is so much bigger than mine. See?" You propped his arm up, allowing your palm to press against his, both your fingers spread out to showcase the difference in size.

"See? My hand is so small compared to yours," You giggled. Bob looked down at your hands. Your breath hitched, your fingers twitching, dying to entwine with his.

"Yeah, there is quite a difference in size," Bob said, giving you that small smile you adored so much. That smile gave you the confidence to entwine your fingers with his.

"I think they fit pretty well together, see?" He wasn't letting go. He was still smiling as he looked down at your hand holding his.

Maybe this was finally it, he'd finally realized that you liked him and would-

"I'm gonna go get some more peanuts, can I get ya anything?"

You mustered up a smile, trying to cover up your disappointment, "I'll take a water. Thanks Robby."

As soon as he left, you shot Jake a dirty look, "Seresin, you said that shit would work!"

Jake, who had been pretending to play a game of pool with Bradley, Javy, and Mickey, put his hands up in defense, "Because it usually does! Everyone knows when a girl compares hand sizes it means she wants you!"

"Everyone but Bob apparently," Javy muttered.

"Maybe you just need to be more obvious?" Mickey suggested.

You sighed. You knew Bob. The last thing you wanted was to be so blunt it would overwhelm him. But at the same time, you two had been doing this whole 'friends but also more than that and I'm pretty sure we're flirting?' for the last month and you were getting annoyed with it how seemed to be going nowhere.

Perhaps Mickey was right. You were going to have to be a bit more obvious.

"Bee? You ready?" Bob called out from your living room. Bob's nickname of your callsign (Honey) always brought a smile to your face, as well as heat to your cheeks.

"Almost! Can I get your thoughts on this top?" You asked as you walked in.

"Yeah, I'm sure you look-oh." Bob's eyes widened as he took in the green top you were wearing.

It was tighter than the shirts you normally wore, highlighting your breasts. The fabric stopped right at the end of your rib cage, showing off your stomach and bringing attention to your high waisted jeans, which according to Jake "did wonders for your ass".

"What do you think?" You clasped your hands together, the action causing your breasts to stick out even further.

"Um the uh, the color is really great on you. B-brings out your eyes," Bob said, his eyes looking everywhere except you.

With the way his cheeks were bright red, it gave you confidence to step forward, your body now inches away from his, "I was hoping it would bring out something else besides my eyes Robby."

"I mean you you look great in everything you wear! So mission accomplished," Bob said quickly, his hands fidgeting with his car keys.

"Anything else you want to say about the outfit Robby? I really value your opinion." You stood on the tips of your toes, bringing your chest closer to Bob's face.

It was the first time since you walked in that his eyes landed on your chest. He cleared his throat, as if he was gathering up the courage to say it.

"You should grab a jacket, it's supposed to go down to the low sixties tonight," He said, turning around to head out the door.

God damn it.

You grabbed your phone, quickly texting the group.

Honey: We need to go to Plan C.

Rooster: Plan C?! You're saying the top didn't work?

Bagman: Dude, your tits were like out.

Rooster: Maybe they weren't out enough?

Coyote: If they were out any more, Honey would be getting a public indecency charge.

Phoenix: Maybe we shouldn't use clothes to express our feelings? Just a thought 🤦🏽

Fanboy: Yeah Nat, that's plan C.

Payback: Can we not blow up the group chat tonight? The finale of Insecure is on.

Your right leg bounced up and down in nervous anticipation, your eyes never leaving the entrance to the Hard Deck.

"You don't think this is too much, is it?" You asked your friends/coworkers.

"Nah, it'll be perfect!" Mickey reassured you.

"You and Bob are going to walk out of here holding hands by the end of the night, guarantee it," Jake commented as he lined up the balls for a round of pool.

It took all your strength not to jump out of your seat when you saw Bob walk in. His iridescent blue eyes scanned the room, landing on you. He always seemed to search for you, which had to be a sign that he wanted more, that he felt the same way as you did.

You greeted him with a smile, patting the empty seat next to him.

"Hey Robby! I got something for you!" You called out.

Bob just smiled as he sat down, "I see you got my signature: water and peanuts. Thanks Bee!"

You giggled, shaking your head, "Yes, but that's not just it. These are for you!"

Bob stared at the bouquet of flowers you were holding out for him.

"For me? These are for me?" He asked, eyes wide as saucers.

"Yes! I was just thinking, like why is giving guys flowers not a thing? Because it totally should be! And no one deserves these flowers more than you Robby," You explained, a hopeful smile adorning your face.

Bob gently took the bouquet, admiring each flower.

"I thought they would go well with your eyes-that's why a most of them are yellow," you explained, trying to hide how nervous you were.

"These are perfect," Bob said before leaning down to smell the flowers.

"Really? Each flower has a different meaning," you began, hoping that by fidgeting with your hands, you'd be able to conceal your nerves.

Bob simply smiled, his face the epitome of saccharine, "Oh, I already know."

Your breath hitched, "You do?"

Bob nodded, "Oh yeah! Alstroemerias symbolize support, sunflowers are for loyalty, and violets stand for intuition!"

He wasn't wrong. You couldn't tell if you were upset by that or the fact that Mickey forgot flowers can have more than one meaning.

Time for Plan D.

"Hey Robby! You ready to watch hot people make poor decisions?"

"Ready as I'll ever-that's new," Bob said softly, taking in the new loungewear you had on for your biweekly Love Island watch.

"Oh this? I think I got it last week," you said as you let Bob into your apartment, "It's super comfy and it has pockets!"

It also was cut low, showing off your cleavage, as well as the tops of your thigh.

"Yeah, the uh, color looks really good on you Bee," Bob commented. The compliment brought a smile to your face. He noticed you, noticed you were wearing something new, and seemed to be noticing your now exposed skin.

"Well, let's go see if these folks gain any common sense," you grabbed his hand, practically beaming at how your hand fit perfectly in his.

"Somehow I doubt it," Bob chuckled.

When he offered to hold the popcorn for while you two watched, you weren't disappointed. Sure, it meant you weren't able to hold his hand. But it did mean you could move closer to him, your thighs practically touching.

"I really hope he doesn't take her back," Bob muttered, his eyes glued to the screen.

"He will. They always do," you sighed, gently moving your head so it rested against one of his broad shoulders.

If your action had any effect on Bob, he didn't show it. Which was the problem.

"I would pick you in the recoupling," You revealed, hoping that would be enough, would finally be enough.

Bob smiled, placing a hand on your knee, "That's kind of you Bee. But I think friendship couples go against the nature of the show."

It took everything in you not to scream.

The rest of the night was just a typical Love Island watch night, no touching, no initiating, no declarations of love, and ending with Bob giving you a friendly hug goodbye.

With a sigh, you flopped onto your bed to check your messages.

Bagman: Bee, please tell us it worked and you're marking sweet love to baby on board

Phoenix: you're disgusting Seresin.

Rooster: why would they stop fucking just to text you Bagman?

Bagman: so we can pop some champagne to celebrate

Fanboy: Why the fuck is would we do that?

Coyote: It's a big event! Bee told Bob how she feels AND Bob's getting laid!

Payback: Can I just get one night of peace? Just one night?

You: No one's doing anything bc it didn't work!

Rooster: Not trying to be rude, but weren't you like almost naked?

Bagman: Like 52% nude.

Phoenix: JFC, we're going to plan E folks.

Coyote: Is that when we just lock them in a closet?

Bagman: No that's plan G

"Hey Bee!"

The cheerful, charming voice always brought a smile to your face.

"Hi Robby!" You greeted him with a hug, the comforting scent of rosemary filling your nostrils, "You smell really nice."

"Oh um thanks," A hand flew to the back of Bob's neck, a nervous (and also adorable) habit, "Wanted to smell nice after doing all those pushups out in the sun."

"Well it worked, you smell great," One of your hands reached up to the nape of his neck, toying with the hair that had curled at the end, "Look great too."

The tops of Bob's cheeks were now a dusty pink, "It's just a white Tshirt."

You took a step forward, placing your hands on his chest, "It's a good look Robby. Shows off your muscles. I like it on you.

Bob's lips parted, then promptly closed.

"Uh, t-thanks Bee." He had to know now that you were flirting with him. It was clear as day.

Feeling confident, your hands trailed down to his, grasping them, "We should dance!"

You didn't wait for Bob to answer, dragging him out to the middle of the floor. The sounds of Bradley covering Frankie Valli (begrudgingly, as apparently Jerry Lee Lewis was better) filled the bar.

After a few minutes, Bob's shoulders visibly relaxed, a smile spreading across his face. You threw your head back laughing as he bust out a goofy dance move.

Everyone thought Bob was shy, but that wasn't the case. He was observant, determined to get a good read on someone so he knew how to approach the situation accordingly. Once he was comfortable, his personality shined and he was a sweet, goofy man who you adored with all your heart.

The grin you had was so wide, your cheeks were beginning to hurt. But you couldn't stop, not when he was twirling you around.

"Where did you learn to dance like that?" You asked, having to say it into his ear so he could hear your voice above the music.

Bob shrugged, "I come from a big family. When you know you're going to a lot of weddings, knowing how to dance helps. That and my mom made me do cotillion."

"Well, all that practice paid off. You're a great dance partner Robby." You rested your chin against his broad chest, looking up to meet eyes bluer than the ocean.

In that moment, all you could do was focus on him. The way the corner of his eyes creased when he truly smiled, his comforting scent, his pink, thin lips that you were dying to feel on yours.

You wondered if he could hear your heart pounding, if he could feel it since your body was practically on his.

His hands found their way to your arms, gently placing themselves on your biceps. Was this it? It had to be.

So you stood on the tips of your toes, your lips now closer to his. Your eyes began to close as you leaned in to-

"I gotta go. Jake stuck his foot in his mouth again."

This wasn't a lie. But it still didn't dull your disappointment. Nor did it sedate your growing frustration at this whole situation.

Perhaps you didn't need Plan G or H Perhaps it was time to go with your original plan.

The next time you saw Bob was when Nat threw a small get together to celebrate the end of a long week.

He was wearing that damn white Tshirt again. Whenever he brought his cup of water to his mouth, the fabric stretched across his bicep.

Was he doing this on purpose? Did he know? Consciously or not, that you had fallen for him ever since you two first met at training?

Either way, you were tired of this game you had been playing for the past month.

"Are you sure about this?" Natasha asked.

You simply nodded before taking a shot of vodka. A little liquid courage was always nice.

"Nat, he's oblivious. Honestly, I don't know why we didn't do this the first time," Jake commented as he took the shot glass out of your hand.

"Because we didn't expect him to be that oblivious," Mickey countered.

"Well everyone, wish me luck." You walked out of the kitchen to find Bob still sitting on the couch, glass of water in hand.

His eyes met yours and he gave you a smile sweeter than honey. Your legs began to wobble, whether it was from that smile or your nerves, you couldn't say.

You walked over, making a beeline for him. Bob's eyes widened, his fingers gripping his cup. Your gaze was so intense.

"Hey Bee-oh!" Bob froze as you sat down in his lap, your thighs straddling his lithe hips.

"Hey Robby," your hands found his shoulders, fingers toying with the thin cotton fabric of his shirt.

"Uh Bee, there's um, there's a seat right there," Bob weakly pointed to the empty space next to him.

"I don't want that," you leaned forward, your forehead grazing his, "I want you Robby."

His eyes widened once more, as if he just saw an incoming train, "M-me?"

"Yes. Wanted you ever since that first day of training, when you offered me a mint," you told him.

"I uh, you looked sleepy and mint is known to wake you up and," Bob paused, "Did you say since the first day of training?"

You nodded, smiling at how you were able to see him process this information.

"The first day of training?" He repeated.

"Yes Bob, all you did was offer me a mint and smile to make me fall head over heels for ya," your fingers now went up to the back of his neck, twirling the curled ends of his hair, "Been trying to tell you that for the last month."

Bob opened his mouth, then promptly closed it, his brain still processing everything.

"You good Rob-" You never got to finish your sentence, as Bob decided right then was the best time to press his lips against yours.

His lips were soft and tasted faintly of vanilla, no doubt from the chapstick you watched him reapply. His touch was gentle, his thick fingers ghosting over your thighs, trailing up to your waist. Every move, no matter how small, made your heart fluttered.

Being so close to him, you could smell his aftershave, a mix of eucalyptus and sage. It was intoxicating and you wanted to be surrounded by it all the time, wanted to kiss him all the time.

When he broke away for air, you had to hold back a whimper, your lips desperate for more.

"FINALLY!"

You turned your head to find Bradley, along with Mickey, Natasha, Jake, Javy, and Reuben standing by the doorframe, in perfect view of you and Bob.

You smiled and opened your mouth, ready to make a quick remark. But Bob's fingers hooked underneath your chin, turning your head back to meet his lips again.

Unlike the first kiss, this one was bolder. His lips moved against yours with more confidence. Your whole body felt warm, as if you were floating. His hands now cupped your jawline, which is how you learned that Bob's hands practically covered your whole neck, a discovery that sent you reeling.

Your hands trailed up to his head, desperate to feel his sun kissed locks, desperate to find out if they were as soft as they looked. But just before you could, Bob broke away.

"What?" Anxiety came rushing back, dragging you away from Cloud Nine, your previous location. Did he regret it?

"Let's go."

He moved your body to the empty space on the couch, quickly getting up. You took his hands, allowing him to help you get up. You held onto one hand as he led you to the front door.

"Bob! What are you doing with my backseater?" Javy called out.

"Making up for lost time!"

Maybe you should be a little embarrassed. But how could you? You had finally kissed the man of your dreams, he kissed you back. He wanted to leave with you.

The sounds of the house party fainted, becoming soft background noise as you went outside.

Bob stopped, turning around to face you. Before you could get out a sound, his lips were on you again. His hands pulled your body to his, closing the gap in-between.

You couldn't help but moan when you felt his tongue slide against your bottom lip, immediately granting him entrance. You could hear Bob's breath hitch, his hands roaming across your body, touching your soft skin.

Abruptly, he pulled away, leaving you desperate for more.

"Why do you keep doing that?!"

"I...." His face was flushed, "I meant to ask you if if you drove yourself here. But you looked so kissable. You still do, God I just wanna kiss you again."

"I'm not stopping you Robby," you grinned, stepping towards him, "I'm not stopping you at all."

"Oh don't tell me that darlin'" his Midwestern upbringing laced his words. You always loved his accent, having found it not just unique but also comforting.

Somehow, despite his lips pressed against yours, Bob was able to walk you back to his car, your back meeting the cool metal.

His broad body draped over yours, his tongue frantically exploring your mouth. Your fingers reached up, grasping his hair. It was soft and much thicker than you expected.

What else was there about Bob you had yet to learn? What kind of toothpaste he used, if he drank tea or coffee in the morning. Did he fall asleep to rain sounds or silence? How many pillows were on his bed?

You wanted to know everything.

But right now, you just wanted to kiss Bob.

Your fingers tugged on his hair in an attempt to pull him closer to you. Despite his chest being pressed against yours, it wasn't enough. You wanted all of him.

"We should get in the car," He said, voice breathless. With the way his chest was rising, one would think he had just ran ten miles.

Bob began moving towards the driver's side of his truck, but he stopped, turning back to you.

"I want to take you home," He stated. It sounded like a confession with the way guilt laced his eyes.

"I would love that Robby."

Instead, he just shook his head, "But I shouldn't because you deserve more than that. You deserve a nice date, like that Italian restaurant we always pass when we go to Bradley's. You deserve that and flowers and a lovely dinner with candles and wine that's older than both of us-"

You cut him off by gently pecking his lips, "It's okay Bob. You could take me to that diner up the room from your place tomorrow morning and I'd be elated because I would be with you."

He shook his head, clearly torn between continuing to talk and continuing to kiss you, "But....it's the least I should do. I mean, after all the hints you were dropping. I thought you were just being friendly and-"

"What friend asks another friend to look at their chest?" You asked incredulously.

"I thought maybe we were just really close! That you were really comfortable around me, which is why I didn't think anything regarding what you wore when we watched Love Island. I mean," his face reddened, "I did think about it. Um I thought about it a lot and if you ever want to wear it again, I would not mind-"

"Bob," you stepped forward, placing your hands on his chest.

"I mean, you got me Violets! Those mean loyalty and devotion, as well as delicate love! And believe me I wanted to kiss you at the Hard Deck, but that is entirely Jake's fault-"

"As most things are."

"And looking back it was so obvious and I can't believe I didn't pick up on it," He paused, "Sorry, I I had to get that out. I can take you home or back to my place, whatever you want."

You giggled, delighted by his ramblings. You wanted to hear more of it.

"And now I just want to kiss you. Like all the time," He confessed, his lips moving closer to yours.

"Robby, get in the car," you instructed.

"Oh, um, okay," Bob unlocked his car, moving towards the driver seat.

"No Bob. Get in the back of the car," you instructed.

Bob's brows knitted together in confusion, "But then how will I drive-oh!"

Who knows if you were going to make it back to his place or yours. All you cared about was getting your lips and hands back on Bob Floyd.

[letorip]

kiss with a fist [iii]

"your slaps don't stick, your kicks don't hit, so we remain the same"

===+++===

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: you can't help but feel like maybe you and tara are more than frenemies, and it culminates in a night where you finally share some truths with each other.

warnings: a somewhat traumatic dream sequence lmao, mentions of sex, kissing (almost), curse words, blood

word count: 5.8k

A/N: hope y'all like this one because i definitely liked writing it. definitely a whole lot more kissing than fisting.... wait a minute....

it's 5 am, my ass is grass. anyways, part 4 relatively soon because woo wee theres still so much to explore in this story i legitimately cant believe my idiot self said it'd be done in 2 parts originally

===+++===

===+++===

"(Y/n)," a voice calls to you, sing-song and sweet as your eyes fade to darkness. It's a gentle woman's whisper, but it manages to hit you like a truck, pulling you down from wherever you came from, and plopping you wherever you've arrived. Or, rather, wherever you've always been. "(Y/n), look, darlin'."

A gust of wind gently strokes over the plane of your cheek, and when you open your eyes, all you can see is rye. On one end, it reaches out towards a sharp cliff, overlooking a lake, with nothing but rocks and the water below. On the other, it runs far up the plains of land in front of you, stopping in front of the white house you know all too well, with its rickety porch and broken tire swing.

You take a few steps forward, as if ready to run right inside, and then before you know it, you're running. Like the world is about to end, like the house is burning down, like you'll never see the place ever again. Foot after foot, you dash towards it, hearing Alisha's piano flit through the front window for the first time in years, and the smell of a pie right along with it. "(Y/n)!" the voice calls again. "Dinner time, kid!"—

But your foot catches on a root, just like it did in your memory, and in an instant, you've fallen down into the rye, with a painful thud, right on your face. You let out a grunt, feeling the dirt on your new, white shirt. The one your mother never let you wear when you were playing outside.

And when you right yourself again, sitting up out of the field, the house isn't any closer than it was before. It sits, perfectly far away, only all that stuff is gone now, and the house looks about as dark as it did the day of Mitchie's funeral.

"(Y/n)!" an excited voice calls from behind you. "Wanna play tag?"

"(Y/n)'s too old for that, Mitchie," another voice chides, and you whip around like Calvin would actually be there to chide him like that. Like he used to. But he isn't. All you can see is the rye. It stands in thick stalks, reaching up to your knees in lush groupings, tall and abundant, strong and growing.

Another voice. "Read me a story?" It's soft and it's a little girl's and it's far away, and you get to your feet and spin in a circle, waiting for her to appear. It seemed to reverberate through your ears, washing through the pathways of your brain before seeping into your heart. It fills it up, and before you know it, you can feel yourself hastily searching for her.

"'Randa?" you called into the open field. "Miranda? You there?" but she continues on like she didn't hear you.

"Would you read me a story? Please?"

"I will Miranda, but where are you?" you called back, raising a hand to shield your eyes from the barrel of the hot sun.

"I'm gone, (Y/n). You're supposed to be gone too," she says back, with a sweet giggle. "Why aren't you gone with us?"

"I—" you stammer, whipping your head around the field in search of your siblings. "I don't—"

"Do you really think that's fair, (Y/n)?" Calvin asks.

"Why aren't you here, (Y/n)?" Miranda asks again, this time her voice wavering like she was about to cry. "Why aren't you in the rye with us?" Your hands came up to your head, trying to squeeze your eyes shut and block out the noises, but they seemed to reverberate into your skull.

"Mitchie was your fault, you know," Peter chides. "We would've never let that—"

"—Why did you get to stay, (Y/n)?" Came Tomas' voice. "We're supposed to be cursed, and you're supposed to be cursed too." He was always the quiet one, but now his voice had a sharp edge to it. One of jealousy. One of anger.

"Why didn't you catch me?" Mitchie asked. "If you just would've caught me..."

"Come play piano with me, I'll teach you," said Alisha, in her light, airy laugh.

"Why did it get to be you?" snarled Calvin. "And why are you getting closer to Tara? You want to curse her, too?"

"Stop—" you stammered, squeezing your eyes shut tighter.

"Wanna play hopscotch?" said Mitchie.

"Do you miss us, (Y/n)?" Alisha said, in between tears.

"Yes, of course— I—" you tried, but now the voices were filling up your head, threatening to spill over and knocking you to the ground. You curled up into a ball as your brain filled up. Words piling up on top of words, piling up on top of words, about to split you open. "STOP!" you yelled.

And everything went silent. When you opened your eyes, you found yourself still in the field, but your siblings' voices had gone entirely. Now it was just you, in the field, alone with the rustling of the wind and the rye, as it grazed gently against your legs. You hadn't remembered standing up, but you were now.

In a flash, you could see a shape, running through the rye in a line that was very visible from where you were. You recognised the dark hair, and the yellow jacket he always wore. With the realisation came the looming dread, and you realised with very little time left what this exactly was a memory of.

You took off running, faster than you had to the house, faster than you had ever run, and faster than you had run then, chasing after him as he took off towards the cliff-end of your rye field. "Mitchie!" you yelled, trying to be louder than the buzzing cicadas, but it seemed the moment you yelled, the cicadas got even louder. He was too short to see over the stalks, but you could see him go, running in odd shapes as he got nearer and nearer to the cliffs edge.

"Catch me if you can, (Y/n)!" he called back with a gleeful laugh.

"(Y/n), grab your brother," called your mother. She didn't seem too worried, and she hadn't been, then. No one had been, until it was too late.

"Mitchie! Stop!" you cried out, feeling tears already beginning to fall down your cheeks. "Mitchie!" you tried again.

"Come on, you've gotta be faster than that if you're gonna be it!” Mitchie called back. "Catch me! Get me! C'mon! I'm gonna make it hard for you to win, Duck."

"MITCHIE! PLEASE!" you screamed, but all he did was giggle. “STOP! DON’T GO!” But the moment you reached the end of the rye, he was gone over the edge, just he had been when you were 13, and there was an arm shaking you awake.

===+++===

"Oh my god, you're about the least peaceful sleeper I've literally ever seen," Tara laughed, grinning at you from over her textbook. She had it pulled into her lap from her side of the table and titled against the table edge, and spread out in front of you were her papers galore, with notes scribbled all over them in preparation for her upcoming exam.

Mindy sat next to her, playing a stupid game on her phone, while Ethan was also studying in his own textbook. He had stopped trying to avoid you as much, as had Chad. You and Tara "dating" seemed to offend them less and less the longer it went on.

"Uh," you mumbled, still feeling a little bit disoriented from the dream. It was like a dose of adrenaline had been shot directly into your heart, and you struggled to adjust to the calm, peaceful library that actually was around you. "Shut up," you grumbled, but not like you were actually upset by her teasing.

Tara watched you with her eyebrows raised. "You look tired."

You sat up in your chair, running a hand through your hair. There was a small layer of sweat on your forehead. "Aren't you never supposed to say that to someone? Pretty sure that's how you get someone at the bar to throw their drink in your face."

"It is," Ethan nodded. "I made that mistake once. I was trying to be sweet."

"Good thing I'm not seducing you, then," Tara shrugged. "You've seen me puke everywhere. Pretty sure that ruined my chances right-out, and yet you love me anyways."

You grinned, leaning back to stretch out your arms. It was meant to be a gentle teasing from Tara, but you had only gotten better and better at deflecting the longer you were around her. "You'd be surprised, actually. That was super pretty. That was the prettiest you've ever been." Mindy snorted next to Tara.

Tara glared at you, unappreciatively. "And you're pretty when you do not speak."

"I'm pretty all the time, Tara," you mockingly shook your head. "And you think I'm joking. Find yourself a girl who looks nice covered in sweat, with her hair going everywhere, and puking in the toilet. That's my girlfriend."

"You're such a dick," Tara scoffed, but you could tell part of her was stifling a laugh. It was funny to her too, and you both had laughed at it together for days, afterwards.

If anything, it had gotten easier and easier, to act like the both of you were actually dating. You weren't too sure why, maybe Tara had become less annoying, or you had become less annoyed by her, but you had definitely at least become a better actor. That's what it was, after all. "Oh, also," she continued.

"Yeah?"

"Someone tried to call your phone, while you were sleeping. I think it was your dad."

You frowned. "You didn't pick up, right?"

"No," Tara said, shaking her head. Then she paused. She dropped her voice to speak just to you, guarding the conversation from Mindy and Ethan. "Do you and him not get along?"

You shrugged. "Eh. He was probably just checking in. We have a fine relationship." It wasn't true but it was an easy lie, that rolled off the tongue like nothing. He had already called twice, that day, and you knew why.

"Seriously, though," she said with a frown, looking up from her book. "You look fucking horrifying—"

"—Thanks," you said, flatly.

"—I mean, even more than normal, it's crazy—"

"—Thanks," you repeated.

"—Have you not been sleeping, or something?"

You shrugged. "I mean, I'm an architecture major, and it's midterms... so not really."

"Hm."

"What?" you asked, propping your head up on your arm. "What's the 'hm' for?"

She shrugged, trying to turn back to her textbook. "Hm, nothing."

You furrowed your eyebrows down at her. "Well, obviously the 'hm' was something, Tara." Mindy shot you a look again.

"Or it was just a hm."

“Would you two shush,” she said to you, rolling her eyes. “You bicker like an old married couple.” But you both ignored her.

"It's never just a 'hm.'"

"I say hm all the time. It's literally just a hm."

"No, it means you've got something to say but don't want to say it."

She frowned at the accusation but was obviously even more displeased that you were correct. "I was gonna suggest we go to the OBK party tonight, but maybe you should just go home and sleep. I was trying to be nice.”

You shrugged. "I won't be doing either, actually." Tonight was not the night for parties. You were somewhat grateful, that you had a legitimate excuse to busy your time, or else you would've spent even longer thinking about the dream. "I have to do homework. My final is due tomorrow."

Tara furrowed her eyebrows at you. "Wait, but I thought classes ended today."

You shook your head. "Nope. I've still got some stuff do."

"Oh," Tara frowned.

"Not all of us can have easy majors," you teased, trying to lighten the mood away from what was clearly concern.

"Hey! You chose the stupid thing," Tara shot back. "Not my fault I chose something fun." She stood up, gathering her things into a neat stack. The time was nearing for her midterm exam, and you stood up with her, grabbing her textbook to be helpful.

"Thanks," she said, then she wandered over and held out her hand. You grabbed it in yours, lacing your fingers together, just like you had practiced together.

The library was a tall building on the far side of campus from where you lived. It was a trek and a half to get there, which is partially why you had been a little annoyed, when Tara said she needed to go there. It ended up being the perfect place to fall asleep in, with the quiet signs and only a few murmurs now and again, and though it had been a less than peaceful dream, it was more than you had been getting for the past few days.

"I don't see why you can't just go without me," you shrugged, adjusting her book in your hands. "Just tell Sam I'll meet you there. Besides, Chad and Mindy are going to the same party, right?"

"Yeah, but I what if they realise you're not actually there and mention it to Sam, or something? And, I'd have to go there alone, since Chad and Mindy are going early."

"They are?"

"Yeah. Helping with set up. Mindy literally just mentioned that. Shows how much you listen to her.” She shook her head in a mocking disappointment in you.

“I was asleep, jerk.”

“I know,” she said, grinning.

You looked down to her, where she walked next to you, gently swinging your joint hands back and forth. "It's not a far walk to OBK. You could probably make it there in five minutes. It's well-lit, and—"

Tara frowned, shaking her head adamantly. "Not alone. Not without you, no way. Sam would want to see you at the door to pick me up. She'd probably hate the idea of it."

"Fair enough," you shrugged. "Find a movie at home tonight, then. Relax, or something. I'd kill to be done with this stupid project."

"What are you even making?" Tara groaned, breaking your hands to shove hers into her pockets. Actually, it was your jacket, and therefore technically your pockets too, but she had taken a liking to it, after your date. You had been less than pleased, when she asked to borrow it, considering how much the jacket meant to you, but she insisted it was assisting her to keep up the act. You figured you could part with it, at least for a little while.

"Architecture," you said with a thick layer of sarcasm. Tara rolled her eyes at you. She nudged you, and you couldn't help but laugh as her elbow pointed into your side.

"Oh, you think you're funny, huh?"

"I'm hilarious."

"You wish..." she scoffed, shaking her head.

It was a beautiful day in autumn, and the weather was soon to leave the sigh of brown leaves and rainy days and move into whispery winds and icy pavement. You didn't mind winter, but you didn't like the chills, even though it was undoubtedly what gave summer's warmth a certain sweetness. Still, nothing burned like the cold.

You walked her all the way to the door of the exam hall, stopping out front to hand her the textbook you had been carrying. You went to speak, but the moment you tried to open your mouth, your phone started ringing. You grabbed it from your pocket, sighing and declining the call, while Tara stared at you.

"Is that your dad, again?"

"No," you said. "Telemarketer."

"Right..." she said, frowning. "You're a terrible liar."

"Am I?" you challenged. You were, it was true.

"Why don't you want to talk to him?"

“I just don’t.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m asking why, (Y/n).”

"Why don't you leave it alone?" you shot, in frustration. You could see Tara's eyes narrow at your tone, and you felt a bit bad. There was the occasional reflex still, to bite each other's heads off. You weren't sure what it was about her, but something about Tara Carpenter always seemed to rile you up inside, and do the same for her with you.

"Sorry," you said, looking down at your shoes. "I just don't want to talk about it."

"That doesn't mean you have to be an asshole," Tara glared.

"Right... I'm... sorry."

Tara sighed. "I guess I'll see you next week?" She asked.

You nodded. "There'll be plenty of time after this, I just need to get this thing done."

"Okay," she nodded, failing to hide her excitement. Tara seemed to really love parties, the more and more she went to, and you were somewhat glad you could help her find something she enjoyed. It was nice to see, not that you'd ever say that to her. Doing that would absolutely result in her teasing you again, or something even more annoying.

"Good luck on your test," you said.

"Good luck on your project, babe," she said, drawing the name out.

“Now who’s hilarious,” you said with an eye roll. Tara winked at you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Me.”

===+++===

It seemed you were having no good luck on it whatsoever, actually. Laid out in front of you was all of your materials, in a messy pile of cut-out pieces and foam boards that were there, sure, but not likely to just jump together and put itself together on its own.

The clock had already ticked away to 12:33 in the morning, and your design was barely finalised to where you could get to work and finish quickly. All of the other students had left at a much more reasonable hour, and it left you standing at your table alone, quietly working to classical music in the empty modelling lab.

At this rate, you could be here for another two or three hours, and the project was due at eight. You were sluggish, slowly working through the plans you had set out days ago and working through the kinks.

Every few minutes, when you stopped for even a second, the dream seemed to rush back to the forefront of your brain. Your mother had been the one to call, that evening while you were eating a poor excuse of a dinner, and you had declined that call just like you had declined all the rest.

You were hunched over your work, probably unhealthily so, with your face buried in your iPad, hastily throwing out sketches of the various shapes. You were settling on a design that would have to do, heading for the woodcutter, when you heard a noise.

It resembled a door shutting, and you froze right where you were. "Greg?" you called out. There was no one else in the building except for you and Greg, at his usual security post, and you waited with bated breath for him to return your call.

But there was no response, and all you could hear was the sounds of classical music gently floating in the background. Usually, it set you at ease while you worked through whatever you were doing in the lab, but now all it did was raise your heart rate to match the increasing tempo. It was completely dark, except for the overhead light above you, which illuminated the table you were working at and a few of the stainless steel cabinets that held tools and supplies.

Then, off to the side, you heard a rolling. An odd, wooden rolling, slowly drifting towards you. On the ground was a pencil, gently pushed towards you, playfully rolling as if perfectly in front of your toes. You hopped to your feet. "Hello?" you called, squinting in the dim light, in case anyone else was there. "Is anyone there?" you called out again. "Greg?"

Now you could really feel the thumping of your heart. The modelling lab had always been creepy late at night, but this was a new level of unease. It was as if someone was watching you, playing with their food, and you swallowed down the lump in your throat. "Is someone there?" you said to the rest of the room.

"Hey!" said a voice, and you jumped what felt like five feet into the air.

"Fuck!" you shouted, spinning around and seeing Tara behind you. She jumped at your reaction, raising her hands up. In one of them was a tray with two coffees on it. “You scared me!”

"Woah, woah, are you okay?" she asked, face etched with concern. She walked towards you slowly, and you put your hands on the edge of the table, trying to calm yourself.

"Don't just sneak up on me like that, dude," you glared at her.

"I literally didn't, I fucking announced myself, loud as can be," Tara said, rolling her eyes at you. Then, it melded into concern. "How long have you been here?" she asked, looking around the place and its emptiness.

"Since I left you at your test," you shrugged. "How'd it go by the way?" Tara's eyebrows furrowed, ignoring your question instead for one of her own.

"Did you at least eat dinner, or something?"

"Yeah," you nodded.

"Good."

“Yeah…,” you trailed off, turning back to your work. “How did you know where I was?"

“I asked Chad. He’s still a little snippy with me about, well, thinking we're together. Tried to tell me that if anyone would know, it would be me, and I said, yeah, that’s true, but it’s only been three months, now.”

“Well,” you said, gesturing around to the lab. “This is the modelling lab.” You were a bit of a nerd about the whole place, showing it off like it was your cool superhero lair.

“I know,” Tara mocked. “I saw it on the giant sign above the front door.”

“Ha ha. Does Sam know that you’re here?” You asked, grabbing your pen and resuming your work while you continued to talk to Tara. She plopped herself down on the edge of the table, letting her feet swing.

She looked a bit sheepish at the question. “Uh… no.”

“You know she’ll kill me like she did that one time, if you’re not home when she wakes up,” you frowned, wandering over to the supplies and grabbing out a box cutter to help trim the pieces you needed.

Tara nodded. “I know. But I snuck out, so I’ll sneak back in.”

You turned back around to reply, maybe say something stupid, but you had to stop yourself from laughing, when you saw her legs hanging off the counter and not reaching the ground.

“What?” Tara asked, furrowing her eyebrows. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” you said, shaking your head and returning to the table. “…Dwarf.”

“Hey!” she said, smacking you on the arm. “I brought you coffee, don’t make me take it back.”

“That’s true,” you frowned, weighing your options. “Guess I can’t make fun of you; you brought me caffeine.”

“That’s more like it."

You worked in silence for a few minutes, feeling Tara watch your every movement. It was harder to work, under her scrutiny, but you were grateful that she was there. It wasn’t lonely in there, any more. A few months ago, you would’ve hated her guts for sitting around while you attempted to work. But not with Tara anymore. Not on that day.

“This might be an all-nighter,” you warned, sending her a small smile as you sliced a piece of foam in half and went to work to attach it to your board.

“Fine with me,” Tara shrugged. She just continued to watch you, in a calm silence. “Actually, I have beef with you,” she hummed.

You laughed, looking up while you secured the base with glue. “Why’s that, Tara?”

“You got that song, stuck in my head.”

“Which one?” You asked.

“The one you sang for me. I found it online.”

“Which one?” you teased, smiling again. Your face was tired and the smile certainly didn’t help, but you couldn’t help the newfound peace washing over you again. You had completely forgotten the weird happening from earlier.

“You know, don’t play dumb.”

“No,” you shook your head. “I really don’t know.”

“You literally do,” Tara scoffed.

“Sing a little bit. Refresh my memory.”

“Nuh uh,” she said, crossing her arms. “This is a trap.”

“It isn’t,” you insisted, sticking your pinky out to her. “Swear.”

She wrapped it in her own, rolling her eyes. She definitely knew it was, but she obliged anyway. “If you need a friend, don’t look to a strangerrr. You know in the end,” her voice broke on the low note like yours did, and you laughed while heat rose to her cheeks. “I’ll always be thereeee.”

“And when you’re in doubt,” you sang back to her, in between laughs. “And when you’re in dangerrr.” You both were tone deaf and the rendition was awful, but the mood in the lab was getting lighter and lighter the longer you were together.

“Take a look all around,” Tara sang, coming back in. “And I’ll be there.”

It was impossible not to laugh at how bad it was on both sides, and you grinned at her toothily, before turning back to your work. “Thank you for reminding me.”

“You’re welcome, idiot,” she teased, nudging you in the side again.

===+++===

You went back to working on your model, finishing the first floor in about an hour. You and Tara occasionally talked now and again, but mostly she just watched you while you worked. “Why are you doing this all tonight?” she asked.

“Uh…” you stuttered. “I didn’t have time the past couple weeks…cause of… well, you.”

She shot up to her feet, mouth dropping open. “Why the hell didn’t you say no to me?! I didn’t know you had all this to do.”

You shrugged. “I never mentioned it. Plus, you were having fun. I’m glad someone was enjoying themselves.”

“Oh…” she said, and it sounded small.

“What?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

“…Nothing."

“It’s fine, Tar. Seriously.” She blinked at you.

“Tar?” she asked, looking amused.

You looked up from your work, feeling the change in the atmosphere. “What?”

“I don’t know, you’ve just never used the nickname for me, before.”

“Yeah, I guess not. Is it weird?”

“Well… no. I kind of like it.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” she agreed, nodding a little. “My mom was the one who gave me the nickname Tar. Haven’t spoken to her in a little while, though.”

“Do you still miss her?” you asked, glueing your second story onto the base successfully.

“Sometimes…” she trailed off, staring out at the pitch black night through the window that hung over your workspace. "She calls me once in a while."

"Do you answer?" you asked.

"No," she admitted. "It's usually about Woodsboro. I gave up on her a few months ago, but she still calls sometimes about the town."

"You never talk about it..." you comment, trailing off with a hand on the back of your neck. "You don't have to, if you don't want to." You leaned back against the table with a curiosity, watching her face move as she struggled to answer.

"Well... it's cause I don't want to that I don't talk about it. You know how people say that shit about manifesting happiness?" you nodded, knowing what she was talking about. "Well, I keep saying I'm fine, and I'm moving on, but it just keeps following me everywhere. It's like this chronic cough I can't shake. This constant thing. No matter how much I run, it's always there. People don't see me as anything but one of the survivors."

You swallowed, feeling her words hit you. "I know what you mean." Tara's eyes snapped down to yours, but when you didn't volunteer more information, she sighed.

You frowned, turning yourself back to your work and hunching over, so she wouldn’t see the heat rising to your cheeks. “I, uh… I listened to that song you said you liked, too.”

“You did?” she asked, lighting up at the mention of it.

“Yeah… added it to my playlist… so…”

“So…” Tara laughed, amused by your awkwardness. It was somehow less awkward when you hated each other. The fact you could tolerate each other now was unusual but not unpleasant, and you still found yourself grappling with how pretty Tara’s eyes looked in lamplight. "If I get a nickname, you absolutely have to have one too."

You scoffed. "That's not at all what that means."

"You had to have had one at some point."

"No, I haven't had one," you said.

"Liar!" Tara said with a giggle, pointing at you with her finger. "You're so bad at lying it's remarkable. Now spill. What is it?"

"I'm not lying!" you insisted, but now you were laughing and it was even less convincing.

"C'mon, promise I won't say it in public— unless it's really bad."

You stared at her for a moment, when she clasped her hands together in a begging plea.

"Please?"

"No," you shook your head.

"Please?"

"Nope."

"Pleaseeee?"

"Fine," you sighed. "My family, they used to call me Duck."

"Duck?" She asked, leaning back to look at you as if the nickname would re-contextualise your entire appearance. "Where'd that come from?"

"It's dumb. I used to wear this yellow raincoat when it was storming outside and these orange booties, so my little brother Mitchie saw me, when he was like five or six, and said I was a Duck. And so I was Duck."

She smiled at you, genuinely pleased with the explanation. "That's adorable. Where is Mitchie, tonight?"

You opened your mouth but shut it. Then, you opened it again. "Probably watching cartoons, or something. Back in Nebraska." (A/N: my ass genuinely did not know that was a U.S. state until right now)

You couldn't tell her that today was the day he had died, several years ago. That a year or two before that had happened, Calvin had gone, and a few months before that, Tomas and Alisha had passed too. That Peter had gotten sick, or that Miranda had gone missing before any of that mess had happened. That you were the only one left.

It was a bad lie, and probably one you would regret later, but it was one you ushered past, and Tara didn't seem to pick up on. From one cursed person to another, you figured it was probably best that you keep your own curse to yourself. It's part of what had made you hate Tara so much at first. She walked around knowing her days were likely numbered, so carefree and careless. And then there was you, you who was so careful in order to keep living.

But you couldn't resent her for that. It had melted away with seeing the Tara underneath. The real, beautiful Tara underneath.

"Duck is good, though. I'll bring it out when I want to embarrass you," Tara smiled, inching closer on the table.

"Yeah?" you grinned back at her, standing up to gently tap against the glue. It was set, and your model was finally finished at 4:42 in the morning. Tara leaned close, watching the glue with her own eyes, cheek almost up against yours in curiosity.

You finished the thing, looking over at her and her large, warm brown eyes, staring at the model you had made with so much curiosity and genuine interest. Tara hadn't lifted a finger to help, but you couldn't help but feel like it was partially hers.

You went to pull back but found your face turning towards hers, looking at each other for a long moment. Your eyes lingered on the slope of her nose, down to the curvature of her soft lips, turned up in the corners like Tara always did when she smiled. They looked so soft, and before you knew what was happening, you could feel Tara's hands coming up to the sides of your face, thumbs gently stroking against the skin there.

You couldn't breathe, feeling the warmth of the pads of her fingers on your face and the faint brush of her breath upon your nose. "Tara," you whispered. The pull was magnetic, and just as you were about to say to hell with it all, her phone began to vibrate in her pocket, and you both leapt apart from each other.

You wandered a few feet away, trying to seem busy while she answered it. You could feel Tara watching you while she spoke on the phone, so you did your best to hide the blush that was certainly spread wide across your cheeks.

This was the very girl you had spent the past several months hating. You suddenly felt dizzy, like the world would slip out from under your feet. Tara, the very same annoying girl who had pestered with you and bickered with you. The one who had so much more to her that what you had ever thought possible. The one who drew you in. The one in search of a hook up, for which you were only the decoy. You cleared your throat, whipping around when you heard Tara say "What?!"

"What's wrong?" you asked. "What's going on?"

She crossed her arms over her chest, looking up at you like she was about to cry. "They're questioning Sam again. They think Ghostface is back."

===+++===

DUN DUN DUNNNNNN anyways my ass is going to bed now. also i do not recommend anyone lie to someone they're interested in about who they are, ESPECIALLY an attempted murder victim

[ajortga]

love at first glance

pairing: tara carpenter x bass guitarist!fem reader

word count: 5.5k+

summary: in which tara admires your bass skills, then admires you even more.

author's note: please bear with me, i don't know what i'm doing but i'm just hoping these scrambled words just go well. tv girl mentioned!

-

based off request!

tara carpenter x masc! fem reader and reader is in a band, maybe like lead guitarist or bass? but like tara goes to a concert with all of the core 4 (+anika cuz i miss her) and like is mesmerized by reader. maybe they make eye contact during a song or sum? they leave the concert and tara is still thinking about reader and reader is still thinking about tara. cut to like later maybe at a party or a bar and they bump into each other and chop it up, but reader is like awkward-ish?

-

You’ve always had a love for anything that was related to music. Your parents made you take singing lessons ever since you were little. 

At first, you hated it. Singing Mary Had a Little Lamb in different keys was not entertaining. But as you grew older and probably didn’t need to sing that song every practice, you began to use your house’s grand piano that was left untouched for years. And then, being able to sing and knowing your keys inside and out wasn’t so bad after all. 

You spent countless times in the living room, the echo of your voice lingering against your house as you learned your favorite songs.

You wrote songs and composed as you experimented with your voice and the keys. It was almost never surprising when your parents caught you up late at night under your pillow, pencil scratching notes across lined pieces of paper. In every single talent show, audition, or musical, your name would be signed. Everyone in your family knew that one day, you’d grow to be a musician. 

People would even begin to see you whenever they were at warehouses and you’d be playing a piano. At every gathering, your relatives would ask, “Where is that little Y/N?” And your parents would look at each other with a knowing glance, both saying confidently, “Probably in the living room with that damn piano.”

You loved listening to music, making music, playing music, feeling your emotions in music, god, every time you’d go out, your earphones would be in your pockets.

So when you were gifted an acoustic guitar for your 12th birthday, to say the least, you were fucking thrilled. Instead of playing the piano 7 days a week, you’d play guitar for half those days. Gosh, was it hard learning a string instrument after playing piano for half your life? Maybe. But you loved it. 

You’d practice and practice, gradually getting better, then you’d play the electric and bass. And was the bass guitar a hell of a sound, you loved it. 

Then, the best thing ever happened to you. You had grouped up with your friends and quickly became a band with all your talents combined. Slowly but surely, did you begin to realize how far you had gone. Because in a blink of an eye, you were at concerts, fingers pressing down on your strings as it electrified through stadiums and arenas while people cheered. 

Cheered for you. That’s something you’ll never regret in your entire life.

-

You turn your bass’s machine head, plucking each string as you tune them before your concert. Nights like this never get old, you’d always be left with the adrenaline from every concert, like your body was refreshed when you slept under your hotel room’s covers.

As your hair and makeup stylist’s makeup brush dabs across your cheeks, you trace the outline of your bass guitar and look at yourself in the mirror. Layered hair, a black tank top over your toned arms, hidden beneath a red leather jacket. Your favorite part would probably be your nails painted red to compliment your hands. You had to keep them short though.

What would this night bring you? Everytime you close your eyes and listen, you can hear the faint echo of your bass vibrating through, lights swaying into the crowd, a smile forming on your face.

Every night had something different, there were different people, a different crowd, it makes you feel different every time. Yet you still feel the thrill and pride swell against your chest.

Junia, one of your closest friends that plays the drums, pops her head in. “You look hot,” she grins, “Jess said she’d come to pick us up at 40. You’re going to kill it, Bass.”

Bass. What an original nickname, you lean your chin into your palm as you raise your eyebrows, “You know it, June.” 

7:45.

-

Tara looks at herself in the mirror, Mindy and Chad screaming at each other while playing Jenga in the background. She pushes a stubborn strand of hair away from her eyelashes while she curls them. 

“CHEATER!-” Mindy yells, making the brunette flinch and breathe in frustration. She was not going to get her eyelashes pulled out.

After Tara was done with a cropped graphic tee, a jean skirt, and a cute little white bow in her hair, she walked through the hallway and into the living room, still adjusting her gold hoops.

There, Anika and her sister seemed the sanest out of them all. On the other hand, the twins were fighting over the remote. 

“Babies,” Sam mutters, pushing her dark brown hair back.

Anika pulls the remote out of both of their hands easily while Chad mutters ‘what the fuck’ under his breath. 

It was like being in a daycare. Tara ate a cookie while watching Anika throw the remote onto the sofa, wearing a lace tank top with jeans, “Mindss, why don’t we just leave the remote and find something else. Your hair is getting all poofy.” 

“And a little dingussy,” Chad adds.

Mindy smacks him, “Don’t ever use ‘dingussy’ to describe something. It sounds sexual.”

Before they could say furthermore, Tara jumps in, mentally begging them to shut up for a moment, “You have the keys, Sam?”

Sam pulls them out of the pocket in her jeans. 

Tara gives a small nod, looking a little over Sam, “Anika, tickets?”

“Yep, 5 of them,” she says, pulling out each ticket one by one with one hand and smoothing out Mindy’s hair with the other. When it was 5:30PM, they were all off, crawling into Sam’s car. Tara immediately sat in the passenger seat. 

I’m not sacrificing my hair by sitting in the middle seat, she thinks as she looks back at Anika, who was basically separating the two twins that were probably yelling in her ear at this point.

“You guys will love them. Jess has always been one of the most talented people I know in music. I have no doubt her band will be the best on stage.”

When Anika had first mentioned when she won a giveaway for a concert. It was for a barricade, but it was stated that they were allowed to be in the front row, the tickets she won had granted her that. Tara wasn’t very interested. Music just wasn’t something she always listened to on a daily basis. But there were 5, and no way would she miss out. 

So she listened to a song, played it on Spotify while walking to class. 

The scene shifts to a local coffee shop in Woodsboro.

“Let me tell you, the bass was fucking amazing! Brilliant!” Tara yaps excitedly to the four people in front of her. She loved how well the drums, electric, lyrics, and bass sounded. The bass blessed her ears. She had immediately added it to her favorites. 

“Bass, huh?” Anika smiles while drinking her coffee. “I think that’s one of the leads, Y/N. Jess always talks about how good she sounds, she usually comes up with all the riffs and lines.”

Y/N. It was unique, Tara made a note to remember it. Yet, she forgot about that conversation no less than 2 days after.

-

They all stepped out once they could see people lining up and buying the light up sticks that were controlled throughout the concert. Tara found it cool that the sticks had stars on them, in fact, the lights were one of the parts that made a concert a concert. 

Mindy was yelling happily and doing a little dance once their tickets got scanned and they all ran to the front row. 

Anika gave a cocky grin, “Maybe they’ll notice us because we’re in the front!”

It was thirty minutes until the background music came to a stop and the lights slowly started to dim. People were screaming, Tara’s heart was pounding against her chest. It was dead silent, whispers and occasional excited screams echoed.

“Oh my god, it’s happening,” Mindy whispers loudly, holding onto Anika as they look at the curtains.

They wait a moment, then two, and by the third one, drums begin to echo. ‘Tsst’ being echoed, before it follows with a loud 16th beat of drums. Then, the curtains open as Tara’s eyes widen.

Are you sick of me?

Would you like to be?

I'm trying to tell you something,

Something that I already said

The drums softly fill Tara’s ears, as she watches them play, she finally notices you. Perfect layered hair, messy in all the right ways. The bass girl. Something about the way the warmth of the light danced across your face in all the right ways captivated her. The way your deep red leather jacket hung over your shoulder, exposing your defined collar bones and toned arms while you pressed on strings.

Oh god, it felt as if a new story line with different love interests began to change for Tara. She could see the veins against your slim hands as they traveled across your guitar with ease. You mouthed the lyrics, enjoying yourself as you close your eyes and sway softly to the beat. 

You like a pretty boy,

With a pretty voice

Who is trying to sell you something,

Something that you already have

The drums left Tara’s thoughts, now hearing you and the way that your bass adds on to the magic of it all. You’re just standing there, your bangs swiping across your features as you tuck it to your sides, smiling to yourself as you scan the crowd for a moment then look back down to your strings.

Maybe it was the way you looked like you were the right person for this part–to be on stage like you were meant for it. Or maybe it was the way your gaze flickered to the front row and landed on Tara’s wide ones. She could see the way you tilted your head and gave her a curious, wondering look, before giving her a small smile. 

Oh my god, your smile was so cute. If she could describe it, it’s like the kind of smile that made her all giggly and was so contagious that she felt herself slowly smile.

The lights shine over your face, making everything about you glow. You pluck at the strings as you mouth the chorus to Tara. Her eyes searched all over your face. You don’t break eye contact with her.

But if you're too drunk to drive,

And the music is right

She might let you stay,

But just for the night

“And if she grabs for your hand, and drags you along,” Tara mouths back in time with the song.

One of your eyebrows raise as the light shines onto you once again, god, she can almost hear your soft, breathy voice teasingly singing, “She might want a kiss before the end of this song..”

Anika screams, jumping up and down and hyping everyone up, waving her heart stick in beat with the song. 

Because love can burn like a cigarette…

-

By the end of the concert, Tara was love struck. Very very love struck. It was late when her and the four of her friends walked out, the stars shining just a little brighter. She couldn’t get you out of her head. She might have grown gray hairs. How could you be more than any other celebrity crush?

She prayed to the universe that it would align you both together. Just like each star was in the night sky.

It’s bad, Loving Machine is playing and she can only think about you strumming your guitar.

Here she comes walking down the street,

Maddie Klein and her fabulous loving machine-

“Earth to Tara, hello?” Anika pauses the music, waving her hand into the girl’s face. It was almost like a record scratch moment as Tara blinked and looked around. “Oh, sorry, what?”

“Did you like the concert?” She asks, holding onto her star light up as the red light makes the glitter under her eyes sparkle. Anika was now in the middle, the car a little quieter since Chad was now in the passenger seat.

“Oh yeah, I loved it.” Tara answers, half of her attention slipping away. She starts to see you from a camera, lighting cast against your tan skin, a TV effect on you, making your movements jerky. 

The rest of the people are fading away, their voices, so loud and eager. Blah blah blah blah… Y/N.. Bassist. Love of her life.

Dreamy sigh.

Blah.. Blah.. “Yeah the bassist was hot.” Mindy’s voice suddenly being processed.

“What?” Tara immediately turns away from the window and looks at Mindy on the opposite side. Oh god, now she was going to have to fight for you? "No! Go find someone else to admire!” She grumbles, before immediately looking away.

The whole car shakes as they all laugh, playfully hitting Tara. “See? She was literally summoned, baby!” Anika giggles, talking to Mindy. “She wasn’t giving any shits when we were talking, and as soon as we talked about Senorita Y/N, she was like poof!”

Sam looks from the rearview mirror, an eyebrow raised, “Already? One concert that lasted two hours and she’s already wrapped you around her little finger?”

Little fingers, those veiny hands that played so smoothly across the-

Chad turns around excitedly, like a child peeking at surprise presents, “She was literally captivated the whole damn concert! You should’ve seen her, a love sick puppy!”

Her sister cackles, the car moving as she keeps snorting, “Gotta admit though, she’s fine wine.”

“Sam!” Tara rubs her cheeks, she seriously hoped she wasn’t going to have to battle till death for you.

“Chill!” Sam coaxes, putting one hand up in the air, “I would totally go for her if you weren’t interested. Didn’t think you had a thing for ‘Sam accepted’ girls.”

The freckled cheek girl couldn’t help but sigh, the thought of you still lingering in her mind. Like a twinkling little Melody who’s lyrics couldn’t get out of her mind, even when she slept.

-

It had been a week. Tara says that she doesn’t think of you too often, but every single time she hears your band’s song, you end up in her mind for the whole day. Every time she steps into a coffee shop, she wonders if you’d be the person to give a free concert. 

She wonders if you’re as sweet as your name sounds. She wonders if you’d hold doors for others or walk old ladies down the street. She wonders if your hand would fit hers. She wonders if you had even thought of her after the curtains closed.

She wonders if you smell good, if you’d smell like a musky, sweet, fruity vanilla-y scent with leather undertones. She sure hoped so.

To say the least, you’ve thought about the brunette just as much. You were having fun, strumming your guitar and feeling the beat radiate off your skin. Until you lay eyes on her. She had wide, brown doe eyes that made your knees buckle. 

She was heaven-sent. You could even make out her tan freckled cheeks. And you were almost in denial when she was looking at you. It was always who was singing that people looked at, heck, you did too. But you were looking at her. And she was looking at you.

Plenty of people might have looked at you, but she was different. Like she was mesmerized by how you played. Like she was a moth to your flame. 

In fact, you don’t know if anyone has ever looked at you with that much admiration.

The girl was so beautifully written, you wished you knew who she was. Instead, she was one out of 8 billion people out there, in a blink of an eye, a close of a curtain, she was off.

-

Tara looked at herself in the mirror, standing there like.. She didn’t even know, her serious eyes trailing down to what she was wearing, before turning to Anika slowly.

“Anika, I look like a hot dog.” She cries, looking at the way the costume swallowed her whole in the fitting room.

“That’s because you’re wearing a hot dog costume, Tar. But you look like a steaming hot hot dog!” Anika shakes her head, her head only visible since she was basically a whole mustard bottle. 

Mindy waddles through the living room, a red ketchup bottle, a red dangling earring complimenting her poofy hair. “Has anyone seen my earring? I can’t find it! It was in my purse and I thought if it looked good, I’d totally buy this.”

Chad walks in the girl’s fitting room, slightly peeking as Sam walks out of her dressing room, a serious expression on their face, a cookie and milk costume. 

Tara wants to laugh, but no way in hell was she going to wear this at a costume party, at least not at a serious one.

-

After actually taking it seriously, Tara decides on a pirate outfit, tying up her bandana. 

She can almost hear the music blasting from her apartment, which is filled with laughter and chatting from her ‘family.’

Her eyes skim over her board, looking for her calendar that was usually meant for school, roaming around the small photos of you and a heart drawn over your face. She traces over it, before getting ready to leave, not even looking at the calendar. 

Maybe the calendar was just an excuse.

After 5 songs and a half of your band’s music, the core five, including sweet Anika, open the door. A heavy scent of booze fills their senses, sweat, and a mix of perfumes all lingered. Not to mention, it was stuffy.

“Ugh, do they ever think about AC?” Sam grumbles, clearly not a party person as she gets whacked across the face from a toilet plumber that belonged to a person who was wearing a damn toilet costume. Mindy cackled, before tripping and almost crashing into them, luckily her girlfriend tugged her back.

They pushed against cowboy hats and random inflatable dinosaurs, across the dance floor, and to the drinks station.

Tara did not leave empty handed, her mouth gulping down the bubbly bitterness of alcohol. 

She was buzzed, a few drinks here and she was flushed and giggling, so she made sure to think about her intake. As she parted from the other four to find a trash can, scanning the groups of people. Sometimes she found people she knew at school, cute boys, just people she’s seen.

Tara took a different route back to her friends, the music growing louder in her ears when she got near the dance floor, slivering through bodies. It was almost inevitable that her nose would scrunch, too strong of a perfume, or just sweat.. It made her nauseous. 

Where was she going? She didn’t know, she stood on her tippy toes, her ruffled blouse crinkling as she searched for her friends.

Her face smacked right into someone, her hand automatically being placed on their chest. She opened her mouth, about to apologize and prepare for a scolding until her nose twitched. A fruity and sweet vanilla-y smell, and a light leathery contrast.. No?..

“Shoot,” you look down, your drink almost spilling on yourself as you look at the shorter person as you smooth out their hair. Did you ruin it? “I’m sorry, are you okay?”

Tara looks at her outfit, perfectly fine, no stains. Hearing your soft, breathy voice, it was unrecognizable to her at first.

“No, it’s totally fine, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Tara says, immediately looking up and seeing your big curious eyes.

Oh my god.

Your eyes search hers, like you’re scanning her. Like you feel you’ve seen her before. No, you know you have. But where? The trace of her nose, doe eyes, oh! Tara almost puts a hand over her mouth because she can almost see the swirling sense of recognition in your eyes.

You opened your mouth to say something, maybe to ask about the concert, but you closed it. You don’t even know if she noticed you, maybe she was spacing out and was not acknowledging you during your concert a few weeks ago.

When it came to people, especially ones you crushed on, you were all stuttering words and pink cheeks.

The shorter girl sees the way you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and she registers what you’re wearing as her eyes trail down. And fuck, you looked angellic. Seriously.

A halo over your head and wings enveloping your sides. A black corset and ruffled skirt that showed a little of your legs, which were covered with tights. God, she thinks she can see the muscles as you cross one leg over the other.

It immediately makes you think she’s judging you. This costume was not your cup of tea, but your friends invited you to match with them, all angels in different colors.

The little pirate instead gives you a genuine look, “I like your costume,” she says, focusing a little too much on your toned arms and slightly flushed cheeks.

“I um.. Thank you..?” You bite your tongue, not knowing her name. In what chance do you get to meet the girl that made you think soulmates were real once again? At least a 1 in 300 chance. 

“Tara,” she answers for you, pretending she didn’t already have your name embedded in the back of her head. 

“I’m Y/N,” you bite a smile, she probably didn’t recognize you. You take a small sip from your drink, nose scrunching at the taste.

“You’re good at the bass,” she says nonchalantly, and you almost choke on your drink. 

You didn’t think she’d recognize you, but now knowing that, you tilt your head. “Thank you. It comes from years of practice. What did you think?” You were genuinely curious.

“I think you’re just so good at the bass..” She mumbles, again, trailing off, before clearing her throat. “I mean, the bass always makes the songs so much better! You know? It’s like realizing how amazing something really is when you notice it-”

“I appreciate it,” you say, now aware of your surroundings because instead of where you two just bumped into each other, you were sitting at a table. You turn your head, looking at where you were, probably near the back. 

Tara took the opportunity to notice your damn jawline, so perfect and sleek and defined-

“I like your freckles,” you admit, voice breathy. You turn back to look at her while batting your eyelashes, Tara’s eyes trained on how your hands.. Veiny hands lifted the cup to your lips.

The compliment almost catches her off guard, because with all the compliments she might get, freckles were usually not on the list. It used to make her insecure, but the way you said it and looked said otherwise. The alcohol was definitely taking a toll on you, because you were staring at her with no shame whatsoever.

Wide, searching eyes, it looked as if you were trying to memorize every detail. 

The flutters in Tara’s stomach would’ve lasted longer. Except her eyes teared away from yours as she could see a very familiar ketchup and mustard costume and two other people behind them.

“Oh my god!” She groans quietly, covering her face as she scoots deeper into the booth.

She completely forgot that she slithered away from them, getting side tracked.

The brunette could die from embarrassment. You on the other hand.. Just prettily sitting there with a curious look on your face, the small warmth of the lamp casting a glow onto your face.

You bite your lip, trying to fight back a small giggle as you peek at the costumes that you can almost kind of guess who they are to Tara.

-

“SHE’S LOOKING THIS WAY!” Mindy hollers, tugging the mustard bottle next to her as Chad scribbles something on a piece of paper.

“Tara’s literally hiding from us.”

“Hold it up!”

-

They’re screaming at each other. You can’t hear it from all the music and party chatter, but you can definitely figure it out from their expressions. For a moment, they turn away from you, so you can’t see them.

You slip on a leather jacket that was in your bag.

A hiding Tara is in the corner of the booth, you raise your eyebrows at her.

It doesn’t take long before the four people across the room slowly turn to you in synchronization. 

“Um, I don’t-” You start, feeling a little awkward.

They hold up a paper, and you can’t even see what the words are saying. It’s at least the size of a penny. And from here, you can’t even make out the words.

-

“Dingus,” Mindy shouts to her twin, noticing the confused expression on your face as you try to understand what the paper is saying. She finally turns the paper around after holding it up. “It’s too small, that’s why!”

-

One of the four holds up a finger, signaling you to give them a moment as they adjust, before turning around.

‘Give her your numbar’ The sign says, you still don’t get it. Oh, number. You grab a tissue from the booth, and take out a sharpie from your pocket. Sharpies were always needed whenever you went out. To write down something on your hand, to sign autographs..

You slip the paper to Tara, giving her a small smile. She was definitely embarrassed. She didn’t even notice you slipping it to her, because after 5 seconds of you sliding it to her again, she still was clueless! The girl, instead, turned around to look out, immediately still seeing her stupid friends.

You sigh, putting the paper into your pocket. You feel a little bad for her.

Party lights fill the empty crevices of the room while you scoot out of the booth and stand up, pretending you didn’t notice the four people who were staring into the back of your skull.

“I think my friends are playing some Uno, you wanna come?” You offer, guiding her out of the booth as you look down at her.

“Sure.”

-

As the game went on, the last two players in the center still battling it out, Tara could see you were all fuzzy and flushed. 

You were definitely drunk. Too drunk to drive.

Your knees were nudged against hers, a little closer than expected, cuddled into her, but she didn’t mind. God no she definitely didn’t.

She was talking a lot, and you were always open ears and one of the best listeners. And then you would ramble and Tara would listen. It made you both feel heard and understood.

After a moment, you remember something. 

“Can I borrow your phone real quick? Uh, my phone is dead right now and I have to text a friend where I’m at.” You lie, your words slightly mushed together.

“Sure,” Tara says, unlocking her phone and handing it to you, a little drunk. You try to ignore the fact that the wallpaper is you from the concert she attended weeks ago.

You slip into the contacts, adding your contact and changing the name to; y/n, the bass guitarist ♡.

She didn’t even notice for the rest of the night.

As the sun slept at night, Tara stared at the ceiling, her vinyl spinning while a crackled “Say Yes to Heaven” reverberated around her bedroom.

She wished she could’ve stayed so much longer, but her friends had to leave, and there was no way she was taking an Uber or driving when tipsy.

Tara wanted to ask for your number, but because you never asked, maybe you didn’t because this didn’t mean as much as it did to her.

Curiosity was getting the best of her as she checked the messages on her phone, wondering how you typed like to your friends. But to her surprise, there were no messages to a number she didn’t recognize. The last number was just to Sam.

Her nose wrinkled, swiping to check the apps recently opened as she clicked the recent one. 

Dimples creased against her cheeks as she saw your name with a little heart. She immediately clicked to message you. But to her surprise, you had already done so.

 y/n, the bass guitarist ♡: whatcha doing? i hope ur not asleep yet>:(

tara ☆🧭: thankfully not yet, i’m in bed. u know, i was going to be a little sad than i’d like to admit if i didn’t get your number. 

 y/n, the bass guitarist ♡: i did hand you a paper, but you were hiding in the corner of the booth and i thought it would be easier this way

It took her a moment to think of what to say, before she thought of something she never thought she’d do late at night.

tara ☆🧭: do u wanna call? maybe just talk to each other till one of us falls asleep.

You usually weren't the person to connect over facetimes and calls, sometimes you didn't know what to say in the moment. You don't know..

She doesn’t get a response for a minute, before her phone vibrates in her hand and she swipes to answer.

Your hair was let down loose, in an oversized tee that even then she could still see your collarbones. You give a sleepy smile.

“Tara,” you say softly, and something in Tara thumps because you look so happy to see her. She grins back, shifting so she could see you better.

“I’ve never really done one of these,” your quiet voice says, a warmer tone casting over your face. “Do you want to say hi to Cinnamon? He’s my puppy.” You say, pushing your hair back.

The brunette nods, “Puppies are so cute, my sister isn’t very fond though. They sometimes make her sneeze.”

“Oh, allergies you could get a poodle breed or something, Cinnamon doesn’t shed much,” you agree, your camera slightly shaking as she can slightly hear you call your dog's name in a cute voice. “Come here, boy!”

Seconds later, you bring out your puppy, which lolls outs his tongue as you press a kiss to his head. Tara can see your red nails as you mess up his hair.

“Tell me about yourself,” Tara says, looking at you through the screen with pure curiosity.

“I-” You pause, thinking for a moment before shaking your head. “I think you should tell me about yourself first. It’s late and I want to listen to you. As much as I’d try to stay up, I’d fall asleep if you went second.” You murmur, cuddling with Cinnamon.

What you said made Tara feel something she doesn’t feel often. Appreciated? Well, she always wants to listen to others when calling, then she might go second, but when you brought up her going first? That made her feel fireworks.

“Okay, what do you want to know first?”

“What’s your favorite memory and why?”

-

As an hour, then two passes, you begin to tell Tara about yourself. She’s never felt so heard before. Both your lamps are off, now the only light from each others screens.

She can tell you’re beginning to doze off. The way you’re pausing and blinking sleepily before murmuring a little too softly. 

“What is something that you hate?”

You don’t say anything for a moment, your light breaths heard on the other end as you shift slightly and prop up your phone.

“Peppercorns..” You yawn, keeping your eyes half open. “They’re fine for seasoning, but when I bite into them, god.. It tastes so bad..”

You pause again, eyes heavy as you blink. “When you feel like you have to change for other people to like you. When you have to be someone you’re not because of people that don’t make you feel like you can be yourself.”

Tara nods, rubbing her eyes as she admires your defined features, even from the darkness. She could see the softness too. If she looked enough.

“I think those people make me feel the worst. Not wanting to be the one laughed at so you change to the one that’s laughing. Or when people talk down on the things you love. It hurts. And that’s something that I hope no one goes through.”

Wow, something about that makes her get to know the kind of person you are by a landslide.

“That’s a good response. What about your favorite fruit?”

“Mmm.. Watermelon. The sweet ones.. It’s so refreshing and…” You trail off, your eyes closing as your breathing evens out. Your lips were slightly parted, your puppy making a small whimper as he snuggles into you.

It’s silent, except for the faint white noise from Tara’s ceiling fan. You looked like a dream. Everything you talked about made Tara see nothing but good. And knowing that makes her feel like she should start seeing things the way you do.

A car passes by, the softest lyrics playing, it lulls Tara to bed.

We were listening to lovers rock

In her bedroom

You both fall asleep on call, maybe people were meant for each other.

[bunny584]

OBSESSED: FUSHIGURO

A/N: OH. MY. GOD. Anon. I love you and hate you for this request. This was…hard. I told myself I wouldn’t publish it unless it was fucking perfect (you should see the scalpels I took to each goddamn sentence before this version).

SECOND: I will square up with Gege for writing the most enigmatic, LAYERED, complex, muddled character to exist. I wanted this to be Megumi. Through and through. His darkness, his light, his reservation, his crazy, all in one. And IDK. I think I did it? This one is purely to prove to myself that I can write for characters that are hard to write for (*cough* yuta im glaring at you *cough*)

THIRD: if you do read this (I get people feel things about aged up characters etc), I implore you to listen to this. Guys. I heard this at 0200 IN THE OR during a 6 hour case and the entire concept for this came to me. Meg is sophisticated and unruly, selfless and selfish, etc. So this has some NSFW but definitely probably more on the poetic, long ends of my works.

CW: Aged up characters (20+), college AU, fluffy/raunchy/dark romance-y because LOOK at him. He takes after Gojo AND Toji. Mature, 18+

“You like it when I’m rough.”

Megumi’s melody rings crystal clear.

Low.

Precise.

An F-14 Tomcat fighter jet, flying dark. Below enemy radar.

The piano keys float beneath his tone. His long, slender, deft fingers effortlessly execute the sheet music before him. It’s his GPS system, a personal flight map.

Little Beethoven, his advanced music theory professor calls him.

Truth is, Megumi is a prolific pianist and vocalist. He can tame any note, any melody, any harmony faster than any of his Shikigami.

Speaking of…

Megumi pulls off the piano and tortured love song in an instant. Just as the grade 3 curse creeps through the open door.

The part between his right long and ring fingers is automatic. His left hand grips the web space between his right thumb and index finger.

“Demon dog.” Megumi summons.

Low. Precise. Decisive.

“Eat it, boy.”

A small, approving smile tugs on the corners of his lips. Low level curses are the nothing more than chew toys to his divine dogs. With a tiny wave of his fingers, his technique buzzes inward.

Megumi’s eyes float to the ancient analog clock on the wall.

13:50

10 more minutes until you’ll meet him for your date.

No. Not date.

Study. 10 more minutes until you’re meeting him to study.

Your thought blooms within him like wildfire. It sets his normally cool, porcelain skin ablaze.

Megumi whips his body around to face the piano. To exorcise the feeling. The keyboard has always been his outlet. His life blood. Playing, singing, musing in and out of written songs is his catharsis.

Words don’t come easy. They never have. But lyrics do.

And when he gets to ride lyrics with his voice, his runs..?

The words he can never find on his own are suddenly out there. In the atmosphere. Coating empty rooms in a mist of his thoughts, his feelings.

No certain promise that the person the words are destined for will ever catch them. Or ever walk through the room and be kissed by the remnants of his musical trail. But Megumi has said (sung, played) them. And that’s enough.

“Sorry if I come across a type of way.”

“I’ve been trying to get out of my way…”

His fingers dive into the keys. Angrily. Earnestly.

“I know it doesn’t seem like I care, but you know I care—“

“Wow Meg, you sound incredible.”

You bring him to an abrupt stop. Your voice is maple syrup trailing down Megumi’s neck, leaving goosebumps in its candied wake.

Pitch fucking perfect.

A soft, ethereal C, gliding down Heaven’s staircase. You infuse sunlight into his name, whichever way you choose to say it.

And it’s hell. It’s cruel. To have as keen hearing as he does. To listen to you sing his name and have nothing else follow.

“Fushiguro.” Megumi shoots up from his seat, slinging his backpack over one shoulder.

“What?”

“Fushiguro.” He repeats, eyes briefly meeting yours before settling above your head. He’s at least a head and shoulders taller.

“Nobody calls me Meg.”

You throw your head back. Feather light crescendo in your laughter. It’s pretty. Tantalizing in the way chandeliers twinkle when they capture a beam of light.

His eyes dart down to catch the feminine column of your neck. Curving into your delicate collar bones. How are your lines so seamless?

So cinematic. Like he’s watching a figure skater land a triple axel. Or a prima ballerina en pointe. It’s not fathomable.

Gorgeous.

You are gorgeous.

“I call you Meg.” You retort with a smile that liquifies all of his joints.

You double your walking speed to keep pace with Megumi’s long strides. Both of you exit the sound engineering building. Heading straight for the campus library a couple blocks away.

“Who were you—oh,” Megumi’s glacial hand along the small of your back steals your voice away.

Your eyes and feet follow his gentle push, shifting you to the other side of him.

“Walking on the wrong side.” He mutters, monotone. Matter-of-fact. Obviously.

He’s a gentleman. Of course he is going to walk on the traffic facing edge of the sidewalk.

Of course he didn’t feel the electric currents wire through his fingers to clench — suffocate — his heart.

No, he didn’t hear that punched out, falsetto gasp when his hand cradled your perfectly tapered waist.

Or notice how well you fit into his hand. How light you are under his touch that had none of his real strength behind it.

You’re made of alluring lines. Intoxicating sounds.

What would it take to coax a pretty melody out of your pouty lips?

His fingers?

They’re long. And smart. Cold. Remarkably patient. You’d like them.

He could make you love them.

Crave them. Need, whimper, whine, and cry out for them.

“So who was it?” You tether him to reality.

“Who was what?” Megumi counters, leading you to a private study room.

“The way you were singing earlier.”

Hairs along the back of his neck stand at attention. Blood runs Siberian cold. Megumi’s gaze on you is subzero.

“It had to be for someone.” You lower down into a seat in slow motion.

The sweetheart neckline of your sundress is mean. Your supple mounds tilt and ripple with every micro movement. Megumi has forgotten why he’s glaring at you.

“You sound too…pretty. It can’t be wasted on thin air.” You continue.

“She must be—“

“Let’s just get started, okay?” He sharply redirects the conversation.

And promptly shifts gear to low autopilot. He’ll speak when spoken to, answer questions intermittently. But his mind’s true coordinates are a galaxy away.

Megumi retreats to his shadow garden.

Watching you.

Drinking you in.

Savoring each detail on his tastebuds like dessert.

The pencil eraser leaves an indent on your bottom lip where you’ve been pressing too hard.

Megumi wants to roll your bottom lip under his teeth. Until it flushes rose and swells beneath his relentless pull.

His eyes fall to your bracelet, far too big for your dainty wrist.

He could hold both of your wrists in one hand above your head or behind your back for hours. Without breaking a sweat.

His other hand would take its time.

To stroke you. Pet you. Learn your sheet music. Then play your body like a harp until you’re a chorus of beautiful, soprano whimpers and moans. Begging and pleading so prettily, enticing him to give in.

But he won’t.

Not until you’re soft enough. A babbling, warm, ruined brook beneath his fingers.

Then he’ll take you, gorgeous.

Searing pain from his sharp swallow and nails digging into his thighs rip him down to the present.

Vision a little fuzzy. Head a revolving door of vulgar scenarios. A dull, demanding ache between his legs draws his eyes to his lap.

Fucking hell.

His jeans are uncomfortable. He’s stiff and needy. Not nearly enough strength in his pants to hold back his drunken arousal.

Not to the mention, the—

swarm of shadows growing at his feet?

Is his…innate domain materializing around him right now?

Megumi aggressively slices through the air at his hip level. Below the table, but you don’t miss his sudden stirring.

“Meg? You okay over—“

“Going to the bathroom.” He gruffs through a clenched jaw. Megumi places his forearm over his crotch before hurrying out of the room.

He can barely recognize the man in the mirror. Flushed to his ears. Volcanoes threatening eruption in his eyes. Api Biru. Pure, triple distilled, blue lava coursing through his veins.

Snap out of it, Fushiguro.

The splash of cold water does nothing for his internal heat. But his milky complexion returns to its effervescent state.

But then he turns a little too quickly to leave. And his painfully hard length drags along his fabric. It’s blinding.

A feeble moan tumbles out of his tight lips.

“Fuck.”

Megumi slams his eyes shut. He needs to readjust. But if he touches himself now, he might not be able to stop.

A slow, steadying breath fills his lungs.

“Just adjust, don’t…” His voice trails off. Icey fingers around his hot, angry base is enough to rip the carpet from beneath his feet.

“Oh, fuck.” Megumi mumbles through one quick pump up his shaft.

He shakes his head as if to tell himself enough. He rests his erection along his thigh before zipping up. Still painful, but tolerable.

A tornado obliterates any remaining resolve in Megumi’s mind on his walk back to you.

You are a dream.

Or a nightmare? A curse?

It doesn’t matter. He couldn’t care less.

Megumi would follow you. Deeper than the crypts of his 10 shadows. Into hell if it meant he could have you the way he wants you.

The way he craves you.

Because fuck the cost.

He’d pay anything.

You’re working on an elaborate concept diagram on the white board. On the tip of your toes. Lip curled under your teeth. And you are just irresistible.

So, he won’t resist.

“Meg! Took you a bit, you okay?”

Megumi is silent. Unblinking. Sauntering toward you.

“Megumi?”

You lower to the soles of your shoes. Neck craning to look at his face. Your eyes widen at his persistent silence. Rosy heat dusting your cheeks.

Pretty little doe, rooted in place by his wolfish glare.

Megumi takes the marker out of your hand and tosses it behind him in one swift motion.

“Hmm,” a tiny acknowledgment of his name. Just because it sounds so sweet rolling off your tongue.

Megumi corners you against the wall. Both of his hands casually in his pockets.

He watches you shift. Flicker your eyes in every direction. Fiddle with your thumbs.

His quiet.

His presence.

It flusters you. Well before he’s gotten the chance to run his hands along the lazy curve of your waist and hips.

“So…so blue.” You stammer. Your warm eyes metronome between his.

“They are.”

Megumi steps impossibly closer. His eyes drop to your chest. Dainty, nervous heaves. Up and down. Up and down.

“You are so,” you swallow thickly, dropping your gaze. “hard to read.”

Megumi snakes his large, graceful fingers into your nape. The temperature difference between your warmth and his cold startles you deeper into his grasp. Your head evanesces into his pull.

A beautiful, shocked gasp escapes you. Just as Megumi’s lips trace the shell of your ear.

“I want you.”

His breaths collide with yours, now. Heat welling deep in his groin. His cock thunders against his thigh.

“Can you read that?” Megumi rasps. Ensuring his voice vibrates down your spine.

A new sound tumbles from your lips. Like you choked on your last swallow. How pretty. You gurgling and gagging like that.

“W-want me? Megumi wh—“

“I.” Megumi nudges his thigh between your legs. His steel pipe erection digs into your dewy, hot core. He angles his leg slightly upward, inching you on the tip of your toes.

His prima ballerina, en pointe.

“Want you.” His lips ghost against yours. Free hand cups the flesh beneath your thigh. Pads of his fingers twitching to dig in.

The two of you drink in this lock-in-key fit. Megumi revels in you. Like this. At his complete mercy.

The prodigal son, born with more power than he knows what to do with.

Ten shadows. Ten Shikigami. It’s been centuries since the last head of his bloodline had power buzzing beneath his fingertips like him.

And somehow he’s never felt more powerful than this.

With you, heaven’s most precious angel, cradled in his arms. Drowning in sinful ecstasy. He brands this freeze frame into the most permanent part of his memory.

Then, he free falls off your cliff edge.

Megumi takes your lips with unfettered greed. Hunger woven into the way his tongue traces every corner of your delectable, soft mouth. His fingers push your head deeper into him. Sucking and nibbling on your warm muscle.

You shower him with airy, choppy little pants. Moans and whines so light they crescendo to fairy dust. You can’t keep up with his bruising kiss. His other hand palms your thigh, kneading little bruises into your silky smooth skin.

Marking what’s his.

“Oh my god.”

You breathe into his mouth when he lets you up for air. Megumi’s eyes dart down to the meeting point of your sex and his muscular thigh.

Did you really think he wouldn’t notice how you’re rutting your pretty little cunt against his leg like that?

Crimson high on your cheeks. You look away when he tries to catch your fucked out gaze.

“Don’t hide from me, gorgeous.” His hand traces up to your hips. You preen into his firm grip.

“Megumi.”

“Don’t stop, pretty girl.” He forcefully moves your hips in more dramatic, languid, deep rolls against his thigh. He’s not paying any mind to the pool of his precum soaking through his pants.

You bury your head in his neck. Fingernails digging pretty crescent moons into his back. You take over the pace. Undulating against him. Shameless. In complete heat.

“You feel s-so…so good.” Your lips smear against his dampened neck. Megumi responds by circling your puffy, slick bud with his fingers.

And fuck. The slurred, broken whimper that rings in his ears.

The way you hump him even more sloppily.

He could finish from that alone.

Your hand flies to your mouth. Empty huffs spilling. Whines ascending in pitch. You are close.

“Such pretty sounds, baby.”

“Megumi…meg..I-“

“Let it out.” He grips the back of your neck. Feeling dangerously close to his own nirvana. Drunk off your precious melody.

“Sing for me.”

“F-fuck, GOD.”

You bite down on his neck. Waves of pleasure crashing into you like hurricane winds. He grips your waist steady. Feeling every involuntary twitch and jerk of your doll-like frame.

Blessing or curse?

He doesn’t know.

But he will follow you to the end of his lifetime and the next.

“God, Fushiguro. That was…” The lusty haze from your peak settles around you. The once shattered world, slowly pieces itself back together.

“No.” Megumi pulls you out of his neck. Dropping his lips to yours, so he can breathe the air directly from your lungs.

“Meg. You call me Meg.”

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured: Before III

Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: You really like Ingrid

You're kind of small.

That's the first thing Ingrid thought when she saw you from a distance.

She hadn't been at Barcelona long, hadn't fully settled in so everything was still new to her.

Everyone knew that Alexia Putellas had a child but Ingrid had never expected you to be so tiny.

Tiny and reserved and very shy.

She gets a few little waves from you across the car park when she and Frido pull up at the same time as Alexia and Jenni.

You never approach. You never say anything but you always wave, hidden behind Jenni or Alexia's legs. You always seem nervous when you do it but you never miss a day.

It's during an away game that you speak your first words to her.

It's late, very late and the whole team is spread out at the reception of the hotel as the staff try to sort out everybody's room with the severely understaffed hotel workers that are trying to pull up all the booking information on a buffering internet connection.

Alexia is up by the reception desk as well, practically pulling out her hair because she's so stressed over it.

Ingrid sits with Frido, Mapi and Aitana on the plush armchairs nearer the door. Mariona has found herself a piano, which she plays beautifully and Jenni is walking back and forth between the door and the desk with you standing on her feet.

You're Alexia's daughter but it's so clear that Jenni just adores you.

You adore her too.

"Jenni!" Alexia calls," Did you see where I put that folder of papers?"

Jenni drops your hands and gently shuffles you off her feet to approach Alexia.

You stand in the middle of the hall by yourself for a moment before Mapi calls you over.

You pad towards the group cautiously.

You know Mapi and Aitana but Frido and Ingrid are still very new people to you.

Mapi lifts you up onto her lap.

The flight was an evening one and you're still little so slept on the way over.

You're dressed up snugly in a pair of fuzzy train pyjamas that Ingrid's sure Alexia and Jenni must have picked up from the boy's section because she's never seen ones quite like it for girls before.

You're clutching a stuffed train as well, some character from the kid's show where the trains have faces. You have little figures of them too because Ingrid's seen you play with them at training but she supposes you haven't brought as many for this away game.

"Do you like trains?" She asks, pointing a little bit at your toy.

You tug it closer to you, like you're scared she's going to take it but she doesn't. You nod your head, running a finger over one of the felt wheels.

"Love trains," You whisper.

It's the first words you ever say to her.

They're short and barely audible but you do say them and you look like you want to say more but a huge yawn forces its way through your body and Alexia appears behind you.

"You're so sleepy, bambi," She coos at you, taking you from Mapi easily and letting you rest your head on her shoulder," Come on. Our room's ready. Let's get you back to bed."

You grumble a little. "In bed with you?"

Alexia smiles. "Yes. In bed with me."

"Good."

You approach Ingrid again the next day before the match in the changing room.

Jenni is with you this time, hand on your shoulder and gently pushing you forward.

"Go on," She coaxes," You can tell her. Ingrid, y/n has something to tell you."

You take a big deep breath. You look Ingrid in the eyes before deciding that's much too scary and you look away.

"Like your hair," You say," Is very pretty."

Ingrid smiles. "Thank you. I like your hair too."

"Mami did it," You say," Like yours because I wanted it like that."

You hide behind Jenni after that, your social battery truly drained.

The game, like practically every other, is a win. A very good win and everyone is jubilant at dinner.

You're in your train pyjamas again, sitting on top of the table with Alexia gently feeding you cake.

Somehow, Ingrid has found herself at this table with Mapi.

Jenni is leaning back on her chair despite Alexia telling her to stop it, balancing on the back two legs.

Alexia is focused on feeding your cake mainly, tucked right up into the table so she's as close to you as possible.

Ingrid remains impressed with Alexia on and off the pitch. On the pitch she's flawless, perfect but off of it, she's so attentive to you. The love she has for you is so palpable as she guides the spoon into your mouth for another bite of cake.

"You're getting messy," Alexia coos at you, tickling your tummy as you giggle.

"Nooo!

"Yes! Yes you are!"

"Nooo!"

Alexia tickles your tummy again before wiping your face with a napkin.

"Now, who do you want to read your bedtime story? Me or Jenni?"

You look around the room as Jenni reaches over to the back to Alexia's chair to grab the book from her bag.

"Er...Ingrid!"

Ingrid lowers her fork back onto her plate as you turn your body around to point at her.

"Huh?"

"You want Ingrid to read your story?" Alexia checks and you nod.

"Ingrid with the pretty hair!"

"Ingrid with the pretty hair," Alexia laughs," You'll have to ask Ingrid. She can say no."

"No," Ingrid says," It's fine. I can read her story."

You practically crawl your way over the table and Jenni throws Ingrid the book.

Ingrid places you on her lap and you easily rest against her.

"Is a train book," You tell her," 'Cause I love trains."

Ingrid smiles.

"Jenni read, Mami read. Now Ingrid read."

"It would be my pleasure."

[astonmartinii]

a very nonsense christmas | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem singer!reader

face claim: sabrina carpenter

based on this request: Hi, how are you can you please write something with Charles x singer reader like a part 2 of "nonsense... or is it?" based on Santa doesn't know you like I do music video something very wholesome idk you can ignore this if you want, hope you have a good day/night 🤍 - @rana030

MASTERLIST | BUY ME A KO-FI? | PART ONE

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,441,934 others

yourusername: do you hear those slay bells ringing? i love christmas so much that i'm giving you guys six new songs for this holiday season !!

view all comments

user1: mama is going straight on the nice list for this one

user2: christmas is saved

charles_leclerc: so proud of you cherie

yourusername: says the muse

charles_leclerc: you're my angel on the top of the tree

yourusername: as long as you're under the tree ready to be unwrapped

pierregasly: STOP

alexalbon: we MUST protect the sanctity of christmas

yourusername: oh alex, do not listen to the ep...

alexalbon: too late just pressed play

alexalbon: YOU NEED THE CHARLES DICKENS ???

yourusername: amazing word play, am i right?

alexalbon: no.

charles_leclerc: he doesn't meant that babe. lily has a commitment, he's just lonely

user3: y/n was like "if you weren't aware, i am getting DICKED DOWN for christmas"

user4: as much as i'd peel all of my skin off to be in either of their positions, good for her

maxverstappen1: i think nonsense christmas has single handedly killed my investigative journalism career. i am not analysing charles' massive sack

yourusername: damn right you won't be

charles_leclerc: maybe you should analyse it, you could learn something from it

maxverstappen1: hOW DARE YOU

yourusername

liked by taylorswift, charles_leclerc and 1,887,341 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, taylorswift & killatrav

yourusername: thank you to all the lovely people who came to the fruitcake release party ! xx

view all comments

user7: CHARLES AND TRAVIS IN ONE PLACE ALERT

user8: so does this mean we can get a y/n and charles appearance on the new heights podcast?

charles_leclerc: do you think people could tell i was about to pass out while playing the piano?

yourusername: definitely not !

maxverstappen1: yes we could

charles_leclerc: WHAT I WAS JUST NERVOUS AND I DIDN'T WANT TO LET Y/N DOWN AND TAYLOR WAS THERE SO I DIDN'T WANT TO EMBARRASS MYSELF

maxverstappen1: okay i didn't need the pity party. you were good, unfortunately very good. i need to learn piano now. i have to beat you in everything

yourusername: maybe you should've forgone the santa suit... it was quite warm

charles_leclerc: but you wanna be mrs claus ? (i also have a big north pole lol)

alexalbon: ENOUGH

user9: wait so like, was the grid at the release party?

user10: based on most of their instagram stories, and y/n's stories i'm gonna say yes

taylorswift: i had so much fun !! i love fruitcake and tell charlie his piano was great

charles_leclerc: SUCK ON THAT @maxverstappen1

taylorswift: ?

charles_leclerc: we've got bad blood taylor's version featuring kendrick lamar?

taylorswift: i see

maxverstappen1: he's the reason we can't have nice things

user11: someone free taylor from lestappen

killatrav: okay. the girls throw the best parties. esteban and pierre i own your team now, you guys gotta get better at drinking

yourusername: careful travis they're french ...

killtrav: is your boyfriend not also french? he's like a puppy dog

yourusername: HE'S MONAGASQUE

charles_leclerc: i am NOT french

estebanocon: i only threw up because eggnog is not what you guys advertise it to be

pierregasly: i'm not gonna lie i don't remember even seeing you last night

user12: okay so get invited to one of these parties is definitely on the bucket list now

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, yourusername and 1,922,033 others

tagged: yourusername, killatrav

charles_leclerc: charles and travis 🤝 just happy we got a chance

view all comments

user13: if he's not like them i don't want it

user14: if santa doesn't pull through with a man like them under my tree this year ... imma be mad

killatrav: travis and charles 🤝 having girlfriends that make us giggle and swing our feet

charles_leclerc: does the honeymoon phase ever finish?

killtrav: well it definitely hasn't for me

maxverstappen1: NOOOOOOOOOOOO

alexalbon: say it ain't so

yourusername: haters gonna hate 😎

alexalbon: he is so happy it is bordering on insufferable

charles_leclerc: alex :(

alexalbon: i am very happy for you charlie and lily is definitely very happy for you, but if you talk to me for the TWELVE HOUR flight to brazil again i will terminate this friendship

killtrav: i am so confused

user15: poor travis and taylor are just being exposed to the grid chaos

yourusername: you posting this like i'm not the luckiest girl in the world

charles_leclerc: i just love you so much and i'm so glad you shortlisted me for your music video

yourusername: yeah spolier alert there was no shortlist. i wanted you and i didn't want to get out right rejected...

charles_leclerc: as if i would reject any offer from you i think i would've torn down maranello if they said i wasn't allowed to be in it

scuderiaferrari: ?

user16: i'm so obsessed with how much charles has embraced the wag life

user17: can't believe i get to live a life where i can bop along to music about how good in bed charles leclerc is

user18: they better not break up cause i may be tifosi but i shall be streaming

yourusername added to their story

yourusername

liked by taylorswift, charles_leclerc and 1,833,922 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: santa doesn't know you like i do baby

view all comments

user21: all i want for christmas is even more y/n and charles content

user22: mum and dad have kept us fed over the winter break

user23: i'm not ready for them to be separated when the season starts again :(

charles_leclerc: not to be that person but we're so hot

yourusername: no, you should say it louder

charles_leclerc: WE'RE HOT

maxverstappen1: can you people knock it off or we're not coming to your christmas party

yourusername: ERM ??? 🫤

alexalbon: you people have single handedly made me the grinch

yourusername: but but but ??? you all begged for an invite :(

charles_leclerc: FAKE and that's why you're all getting coal from us

user24: my god i am so lonely

user25: if i don't wake up to a charles shape gift under my tree i will not make it to next christmas

danielricciardo: just to be sure, this party is not going to be filmed and turned into a music video?

yourusername: it's just an old-fashioned shin dig girly don't worry

yourusername: or by the tone of this, should i be worried?

danielricciardo: no!

charles_leclerc: do NOT ruin my home please

danielricciardo: no promises xoxoxo

user26: y/n might want to film the party but I NEED THE FOOTAGE

user27: @tedkravitz boy do i have a gig for you

danielricciardo

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,093,445 others

tagged: charles_leclerc & yourusername

danielricciardo: do NOT drink the eggnog at a y/n christmas party this is a public safety announcement

view all comments

user28: i would commit unspeakable crimes to be present here

yourusername: if you weren't a fake fan you would've listened to fruitcake and would know we spike the eggnog 🤷‍♀️

danielricciardo: i am a fan !!!!!!!!!

yourusername: you asked me and yuki how we escaped the north pole last night

yukitsunoda0511: don't think i've forgotten about that, say goodbye to a tow in quali old man

danielricciardo: IT WAS A COMPLIMENT ELVES ARE CUTE?

charles_leclerc: don't call my girlfriend cute that's my job 🤨

danielricciardo: do you people ever let me live? i am battling a hangover like no other please stop shouting at me

charles_leclerc: maybe someone of your old age should manage his drink better

danielricciardo: THAT'S IT I'M GOING

yourusername: thanks we did actually want the kitchen floor back

user29: daniel calling y/n and yuki elves kills me

yourusername: we're not elf height we're cutie patootie height 💅

yukitsunoda0511: amen

alexalbon: i will endure the torture because that was fucking insane

maxverstappen1: @yourusername you're in charge of all after parties now sorry

yourusername: let charlie win and you got a deal

maxverstappen1: i'd rather drink my gin and tonic in a ditch than let that happen

charles_leclerc: BOOO

alexalbon: cocktail recipe immediately @yourusername

yourusername: you've changed your tune ?

alexalbon: i had fun, sue me. plus i am actually happy for charlie but please no more singing about his dick

yourusername: i can't make any promises

charles_leclerc: and there's plenty of material to get the creative juices flowing

alexalbon: FUCK OFF

maxverstappen1: FUCK OFF

user30: the grid will never know peace, not even at christmas time

charles_leclerc

liked by taylorswift, yourusername and 1,893,446 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: nothing like the holidays with the love of your life

view all comments

user35: how down bad all men should be

yourusername: best holidays ever !!!! love you charlie xx

charles_leclerc: my christmas wish last year came true, and now you're stuck with me

yourusername: no one i would rather be stuck with

charles_leclerc: I LOVE YOU

yourusername: I LOVE YOU MORE

user36: good thing i got presents this year or the sheer sight of this couple would make me so jealous i would spontaneously combust

user37: real

landonorris: you will see to the crime of the stupid amount of mistletoe you had up at that damn party

charles_leclerc: have you seen y/n? (don't answer that) obviously i want any excuse to kiss her

landonorris: i DON'T CARE I HAD TO KISS DANIEL FIVE TIMES I WILL NEVER RECOVER

danielricciardo: i know you enjoyed baby

landonorris: @yourusername @charles_leclerc YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS

yourusername: idk it looked like you enjoyed it to me

landonorris: you WATCHED?

yourusername: i filmed it :) top blackmail material, don't crash into charlie OR ELSE

charles_leclerc: thanks babe

landonorris: @georgerussell63 get the gdpa to intervene nOW

georgerussell63: eh i'm quite entertained

user38: this really is the giving season huh

arthurleclerc: do i mean nothing to you?

charles_leclerc: you're nowhere near as cute as y/n 🤷‍♀️

yourusername: awwwww charlie

arthurleclerc: EXCUSE ME? WHAT HAPPENED TO CHRISTMAS SPIRIT?

user39: charles is really ride or die lol

note: have a very merry christmas! i hope you guys all have a great holiday season and enjoy this quick one! i've been super busy but wanted to give you all a lil christmas treat - much love xx

[funficwriter]

Fontaine Characters with Violinist Reader!

A/N: This disappearing thing of mine is annoying, I'm trying to stop it. However, I finally got a bit of spare time to play Genshin and I am so, so in love with Fontaine. I think it's gonna be a wonderful arc. I haven't felt this much jubilation since Liyue or Inazuma!

Warnings; None, really.

Lyney, Lynette, Neuvillette, Navia, Furina, Wriothesley (no particular order)

Lyney

First off, this boy is no stranger to performing, an activity he loves. Naturally, he's going to be most interested in fellow performers, including you!

If you're the type to get anxious before, or even during a performance, say goodbye to that with him. He'll guide you through plenty of destressing rituals to help you relax beforehand.

(This included, but wasn't limited to; Taking deep breaths, doing tongue twisters, asking you to play meme songs on your violin, or tickling your sides because 'laughing is a great way to be loose'.)

Even during, should you freeze up and he's in the audience, he'll do a quick but loud magic trick to get everyone's eyes off you. Even one that makes him look like a fool, so long as you have time to put yourself together.

He'd LOVE to have you on stage with him! He adores your music and would ask you to sync it up with dramatic moments in his magic.

If you compose you own stuff, he's pretty much your biggest fan. The guy who never misses a concert. The loudest clapper. The biggest braggart.

"That gorgeous, graceful violinist we had the pleasure of watching? What if I told you that they're coupled up with an equally electric performer? That is, me~."

Lynette

It's easy to think that her brother outdoes her in terms of being your fan, but quietness hides a lot. If you think she doesn't care as much, you're so, so wrong.

She learned several music skills just to be closer to you, including sight-reading. BTW, she's got a killer voice and loves to sing out your compositions. Sometimes it helps you come up with alternative movements within them.

She can also play piano, to a good level of accompaniment. With time, one would think she is also a music assistant; It's not uncommon for her to be on your stage.

Lynette is VERY attentive to your instrument. Does it need rosin? A new bow, perhaps a re-hair? You just say the word, and she'll happily take it to the repair workshop if you have no time.

"By the way, Y/N prefers real horse hair, the thinnest you have. Don't worry. They're talented enough to thrive on it.".

She makes it a point to let you know how much she loves what you do: "All other music in Fontaine pales in its beauty next to yours. Please, keep playing.".

Neuvillette

You play the violin? (he crosses his legs and assumes his royal position). So when are you going to get married? Will you be okay playing a few pieces, even while being the spouse? /Half-joking, tbh.

For him to say that he is the lover of a music pioneer as important as you... Will never not be a moment of joy for him.

First off, what a sugar daddy. I hope you made a list of the expensive violins you wanted but couldn't afford. Because now, it's yours, never mind the Mora. Your very case may as well be coated with gold.

He won't die on this hill, but he would love it if you could play a bit during the parties he hosts. He loves live music to begin with, but after hearing you, it feels like no other pro could hope to sound as good as you.

(And side note, he likes how mesmerized everyone is with you lol)

If you're the type to remember your patron's personal preferences, and compose/play in accordance to that, just for him? Put hearts in his eyes. He's no longer joking about the wedding thing.

While he loves showing you off, he'll never force you if you're shy/nervous. If anything, he would also feel very special if he got to heard songs not out yet, compositions just for him...

"Perhaps this is Lady Furina's way of rewarding me for my years of service. Bless our Archon for giving me such a talented, show and heart-stopping partner.".

Navia

She likes that the Spina del Rosula is represented by passionate, talented people!

If you like sweets, I say just join her team. It's guaranteed pastries after each request lol.

Her detective work is cool, but can get a bit drab after a while. She likes asking you to play some violin ambiance, partly because it makes her feel cool, and partly because your music changes the atmosphere for much better.

Navia is a woman of decorum, but she'll often have trouble staying still during your concerts. It doesn't matter if there are rules to how loud a woman can cheer, she's happy for you and will make sure you know that.

She becomes even more proactive than usual. If a concert of yours falls on the same time as her work, she'll scour the ends of Teyvat for its solution, so she can see you.

With time, she might request you to play pieces that her father loved. Once they're brought back to life, through your own strings, she can't help but be a little emotional. She must have done something wonderful to have you.

"How beautiful, how poignant as you, my dear Y/N! This calls for macaroons! Which flavor would you like today?".

Furina

"Yes, Neuvillette, I know they perform and all, but why can't I keep them to myself! They're so darn great, I want that everyday!"

Of course, she's not gonna stop you, but beware; I feel like Furina would almost turn you into her own personal violinist lol.

She'd keep requesting your presence over her other personal entertainment and somewhat bombard you with song requests. Buuut if you're looking for a varied repertoire, she's your gal!

One reason she requests so much is because she so impressed with how you not only fulfill them all, you do it so creatively and beautifully. You don't just follow the note as it is... Once you're acquainted with what she likes, you modify the tune a bit to be more her taste.

She's so cute when she claps; The way her hands go so fast and she's about to get up from the seat, the huge eye and smile... Why, you might start reconsidering her offer.

"Bravooooo, Y/N!! Bravo! That was everything, I can't go on without an encore!"

If the tune is more happy-go-lucky, she will get up and dance along. Will also do it in circles around you because she's your little orb :3

Wriothesley

"Forgive me for intruding... But I was overhearing, and your playing is terrific. Electrifying. Do you happen to perform on Saturday nights? That's when I can leave the Fortress for a bit.".

Of all your fans, Wrio is one of the quieter ones, but not so much that no one knows it. For one, he's a Duke, he's bound to enjoy good music. And heavens knows he needs some fun in his life.

Here's a fun thing (ngl this is what I was excited to write): At first, it doesn't sound like he can make it to your recital. You see him on his desk, surrounded by paper mountains that only ever seem to grow. He doesn't want to make you sad, but his remark lets you know that he's not coming: "Would it kill some of these people to tone it down for a bit so I can go see my partner perform?".

So imagine your shock when you step on stage, and see him on the first row, sitting tall and handsome, shit-eating grin on his face and waving. You really bought it for a moment.

"Hehe... Did you really think I can't even make a bit of time to see Fontaine's best violinist in action? You actually bought that?".

I HC that he has insomnia, and has tried any things to cure it, but to no avail. It's rumored in Fontaine that his is incurable, but little do they know about how he lays down next to your sitting form. Little do they know of the soft lullabies you composed just for him, or how peacefully he dreams afterwards 💜

[coff33andb00ks]

Until You - Part Two

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

charles leclerc x female pop singer!reader x oscar piastri f1 smau with intermittent scenes fc: none it's a mix of taylor swift, sabrina carpenter, and random pinterest ladies. {voice claim is adele}

Summary: he drives vroom vrooms, she sings soulful tunes. there's no way in hell this is gonna work, right? Warnings: language, implied smut (18+ only), oscar is a simp, lando is a horrible wingman, reader is a fangirl

Y/n set her phone aside and laughed as Leo jumped over onto her, headbutting her chin then licking it while she rubbed him. Charles stretched out, gently pulling the dog from her face.

"He's a bit insane," he apologized, rolling his eyes when Leo immediately scampered back to tuck his head under her chin.

"If he keeps loving on me like this I might smuggle him out," she teased, smiling as Charles laughed.

"You'd steal my dog?" he asked, clicking his tongue. Leo's ears perked up and y/n gasped as she was abandoned. Charles cooed at the puppy, cuddling him close.

"Not steal. Borrow." Reaching over, she smoothed her hand over the pup's back, not really surprised when he suddenly flopped onto his side, yawning with a squeak.

"You can babysit?" Charles offered, looking up at her with a smile.

"Hm… I don't know. What's the pay rate?" Watching as Leo nestled his head against Charles' shoulder, eyes drooping.

"My undying thanks, Leo's devotion… Paddock passes?" He leaned his head back. "A kiss?"

She blushed, thinking of the unexpected but very welcome kiss they'd shared on a dark street while walking Leo. The sweetness and tenderness had been sorely needed. Sighing, though, she shook her head. "I don't even get a Ferrari? I'll pass."

His chuckle was, like his company had been all evening, warm and soothing. "You don't have one already?"

"If I'm in New York or London my assistant arranges for a driver. And it's pointless having one in LA. I have a Mercedes but I rarely… Actually, I don't. That was his." She shrugged, impulsively scooping Leo up and settling him against her chest. He squirmed a little then relaxed and she sighed, knowing Charles understood her need for puppy snuggles.

The room was silent for a moment, Charles shifting so was next to her. "Why did you cry for yourself at the show, chérie?"

"I was stupid," she whispered. "I fell for everything he said. When I met him the first time people told me he was bad news but I just thought they were jealous, and when I told him he said they were crazy. And I believed it. By the time I realized they were right it was too late."

"That doesn't make you stupid. You were young when you met, yes?" he asked gently.

"Twenty-one."

"Exactly. So you weren't stupid, chérie. You were naïve."

"Perfect prey for a guy like him," she sighed. "I thought I was living my childhood dream because not only was I a singer, I was dating my childhood crush."

"He was your crush?" Charles made a face.

"I was like ten when his stupid Baby song came out," she defended.

"Ah, we were all stupid at that age." He nodded.

"I just…" She sighed, pressing her face into Leo's fur for a few seconds. When she lifted her head she stared straight ahead. "I feel like he played a colossal joke on me. He said all the right things at first and when he showed his true side I was too in love to want to give up on us."

Charles's hand slid over hers. He sat up, his expression concerned. "Did he…"

"Not physically," she murmured, answering the question he asked with his eyes. "He wounded with words. When I got excited about a new song I was working on he always downplayed it, you know? I got the opportunity to perform Your Song this year at the Grammy's—"

"It was beautiful," he said. "You said you would play it all the time as a child."

"And he—" She blinked in surprise. "You remember that?"

"It was during the lockdowns, no? The video of you playing and singing it at home went viral. I watched it a lot while I was learning piano."

"Wait." She laughed, shocked. "You watched me while you taught yourself piano?"

"Because I saw the video and you said you were self taught." His smile was almost bashful. "It was one of the first pieces I learned to play."

"But you've never played it publicly."

He shrugged. "It belongs to you."

"It belongs to Elton, I just borrowed it." She looked across the room, through the doorway where she could just see his grand piano. "Will you play for me?"

Charles protested weakly. "Chérie, I'm still not as good as you—"

"Please?" she murmured.

He sighed, looking at her for a moment. Then, sighing again, he nodded. She smiled, gently transferring Leo to the sofa and getting to her feet. Charles led her through to the piano, and she looked around the room, taking in the décor and noting that he had recording equipment in the corner.

"It won't disturb the neighbors will it?" she asked, joining him on the piano bench.

"No, they never complain when I play." He lifted the cover and let out a breath. "I feel like I am back in school doing reviews."

She giggled. "I promise not to grade you harshly."

He ran his fingers lightly over the keys, and as soon as he began to play she felt him relax. She couldn't help but hum along softly. He glanced at her, smiling, and she drew in a breath when he gave her a nod. "I am playing, you should sing," he said, tipping his head. "Please."

"The last verse," she agreed, turning on the bench so she faced him. Waiting for his nod, she admired his side profile and the focus with which he played, already aware that music was a passion of his. She began to sing, watching him, blinking and then finding him looking at her as she sang the line I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue and oh, they were both blue and green and she scooted back a little when she felt herself starting to fall into them. When his playing softened she softened her voice, watching his eyes light with something akin to admiration.

"Oh… I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind… That I put down in words… How wonderful… Life is… While you're in the world…"

She wasn't sure if he leaned in or if she did, or if they did it at the same time. But the music seemed to echo around them as their lips met, stealing her breath and drawing her closer to him. It seemed so natural to be kissing him again, and when he stopped playing abruptly and his hands cradled her cheeks she finally let herself touch him, tentatively resting her hand on the side of his neck.

"Y/n," he moaned, breaking the kiss and resting his forehead against hers.

"We shouldn't," she whispered.

"I know," he agreed.

His breath caressed her lips and she shivered. "People will talk."

"Do you care?" he whispered.

"No, but…" She stared into his eyes, both hands sliding to cup the back of his neck. "Please just… I can't let myself fall for you, Charles. I can't get played again."

"I don't play," he murmured, tracing her cheek with his knuckles.

"How can I know that you're not full of tricks and unkept promises?" she asked, pulling away. His fingers trailed down to her chin and she felt a twinge of regret when she heard his sigh.

"You can't ever know, can you?" He lightly plinked the piano keys.

"I guess not." Pulling one foot up onto the bench, she rested her chin on her knee. She watched his hand move over the keys, unintentionally humming. "Play that again?"

He did, shifting to give her room when she reached to add a few chords.

"Take a bow… To the crowd… The joke's on me," she sang gently.

Charles hummed, nodding as they played through it again. And, apparently realizing what she was doing, he stood and left the room, coming back a moment later with her phone and his iPad. "Do you need pen and paper?"

"No, my phone's good, thank you."

He sat next to her, and when he shifted she realized Leo was tucked in the pocket of his hoodie. "Would you prefer I leave?"

She shook her head, opening her phone's camera and starting a video. "I need your input and help."

He scoffed at that, bending to place Leo in the soft dog bed beneath the piano. "You're the professional, mon couer."

"See, you say things like my heart and say you don't play," she teased, actually laughing when he bumped her shoulder with his.

"It's how I speak, amour."

"I'll believe that when you talk to Max or Lewis and call them your heart," she snorted.

"You have a point," he conceded with a sigh. "But I do not play."

"Only the piano, right?" she asked, ending the video and starting a new one.

"Only the piano, yes." He leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. "Shall I play for you, mon couer?"

"Please? While I work on lyrics."

He kept calling her the professional but his input was better than from some who'd been in the industry for decades. And she knew it was because music for him wasn't a career, it was an outlet. He played and composed with emotion, not with a care for how much money it would make him.

"Again?" he asked an hour later.

Taking a sip of the tea he'd brewed for them, she nodded. "I think we've got it, Charles."

"Will you record it?" He took his place in front of the piano while she stretched.

"Yeah, video's going," she told him.

"I mean to publish."

"Oh. I guess? My manager can handle the rights and crediting and royalties for you."

He shrugged. "I don't need the royalties, mon couer."

"Would you record it with me?" she asked once they'd played through the entire song fully.

"You would want me?" He sounded surprised and she turned to him, ending the video and immediately emailing it to herself.

"Of course. It's your song too. Your melody. I'd love to be in the studio with you." Thinking of how busy he would be for the rest of the season, she locked her phone. "I'm sure we can find a studio nearby for us to use before I leave."

He chuckled. "You find one, amour, and I will be there."

"Thank you," she whispered, hugging him. His arms wound around her and she closed her eyes, letting herself enjoy the warmth and gentleness of his embrace. They both began to pull away at the same time, both freezing when his cheek brushed hers.

She was well aware it could be a big mistake, that she had once again fallen for the right words, and she would be left alone and cold once more. But she turned her head slightly, barely brushing his lips with hers. His arms tightened as he caught her in a gentle kiss and it felt different and she couldn't begin to explain how. Last time there had been the element of danger, the excitement and the butterflies and fireworks. But Charles…

He guided her to her feet, somehow keeping his lips on hers. He didn't pull her with him from the room, his hands at her waist keeping her steady.

It was warmth and safety. Exciting, yes, but calming at the same time. He wasn't an ice cold energy drink that would leave her buzzing and her heart racing. He was a cup of hot tea on a cold winter's day. His gentle touch soothed her even as it aroused her. When he sat on the foot of his bed she hesitated only a second before straddling his thighs, kneeling over him.

"Do you want music, chérie?" he whispered, leaning back slightly.

"Don't need it," she promised, shivering as his hands slipped under the shirt he'd loaned her, his fingers caressing and leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"Candles?" He grunted and chuckled when she lightly shoved his shoulders. Lying back, he stared up at her, humming through a sigh while one hand left her skin, reaching to stroke the curve of her jaw. "He didn't deserve you."

"Is this where I say 'no one does'?" she murmured, leaning over him. "Or do I say maybe you do?"

"Don't blow up my ego," he whispered, sitting up to meet her in another kiss.

YN laughed while she signed the CD, nodding when one of the mechanics asked if she would sign something for his niece. Ynbff was already on it, pulling a copy of the CD from her bag and YN signed it for him, handing it over with a smile then spending a few moments to take pictures. They then decided to walk along, mainly so yn could work off some of her nervous energy.

Pete stayed close as they walked along in front of the garages. YN walked slowly, breathing in the scent of the sea mixed with the aroma of fuel and rubber. Taking a few photos, she couldn't keep the smile from her face as drivers walked up to introduce themselves. As they neared the McLaren garage she snapped a photo of the car, stopping long enough to post it to her story.

ynyln has added to their story

"YN," Ellie hissed.

She jerked her head up, eyes widening at the sight of Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri standing with her assistant. "Shit, sorry," she mumbled, stepping forward. "Hi."

"Found your way to us at last?" Lando teased, an easy grin on his face once the introductions had been made.

"Wild horses couldn't keep me away."

Oscar snorted, grinning. "Heh, nice one."

"Thanks." Smiling up at him, she missed the knowing look on Lando's face as he looked between them.

"Oh this is mint – Catch ya later yeah? Media," he said, moving to shake YN's hand then turning to ynbff. "You said you wanted a drink, right? Follow me – you don't mind right YN? Perfect."

YN blinked as he easily swept her friend away, leaving her alone with Oscar. And Pete, but he was chatting with a couple of the mechanics. Turning to smile at her favorite driver, she cleared her throat. "You're doing great this season so far," she said.

"You think so?"

"Well yeah. You're already ahead in points as opposed to last year at this time. I know you've had a couple less than stellar races this season, but you're consistently top five and you had fasted laps a few weeks ago at Miami. You'll get a podium soon I know, and you're definitely good enough to get your first win." Realizing she was starting one of her rambles, she felt her cheeks grow warm and pressed her lips together. "I'm not biased, honestly. Just because you're my favorite driver—"

"I'm your favorite driver?" he asked softly.

She was sure she imagined the hint of wonder in his voice. "Well… Yeah."

He grinned and she was momentarily dazzled. "I'm honored."

"You're young and passionate, and more importantly, you're good. I've seen people brush you off because you don't have an outlandish personality but I think it's a benefit to you. If you steadily cry for attention people won't be surprised when you earn it."

As she talked she moved, and she didn't realize they were walking together until they reached the barrier. He leaned against it, continuing to tell her about his late night drive of the circuit as soon as he'd arrived in Monaco.

mclaren

liked by charles_leclrec, ybffn, oscarpiastri, landonorris, and others mclaren: We think we've discovered ynyln's favorite driver 👀 What are you talking about, oscarpiastri??      scuderiaferrari: please return our guest 😤               mclaren: no 😌      landonorris: you mean I'm not the favorite??????      user5: stop this is so cute!!      user9: her face tho. same, yn, same      user4: the way he's smiling omg

ynyln

liked by mclaren, ybffn, oscarpiastri, landonorris, and others ynyln: it was completely accidental that I found myself near the McLaren garage, and this lovely guy from Australia was kind enough to tell me how I got lost then escorted me back to Ferrari. Undying thanks to oscarpiastri, otherwise I'd still be wandering the streets of Monaco. (Ferrari's jokingly(?) threatened to lock me in hospitality for the rest of the weekend)      mclaren: blink twice if you need rescuing      oscarpiastri: always happy to help out 😊 (liked by author)               user4: oh no he has no rizz 😩      user5: ugh this is so flipping cute      user2: he's blushing!!!! AGH

ynyln

liked by charles_leclrec, mclaren, oscarpiastri, landonorris, and others ynyln: an amazing day. I'm in awe at all the work and dedication that goes into the vroom vrooms. Thank you so much scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, f1! (Now to crash because I'm waking up at 5am)      scuderiaferrari: ❤️❤️❤️      charles_leclerc: it is already an honor. This week is going to be incredible!               ynyln: c'est déjà incroyable               user2: oop               user3: "an honor" sir she stayed at ur house last night      oscarpiastri: 5am?? Do you hate yourself?               ynyln: sometimes but this is for TOP SECRET RECORDING               oscarpiastri: Is it top secret because it's top secret or because you're doing it so early?               oscarpiastri: also please don't hate yourself               ynyln: it's a human weakness I'm afraid. And it's top secret because I haven't told the label I'm working on new songs already. But I promise to work on my self esteem               oscarpiastri: I can't wait to hear them.               ynyln: if I don't pass out I'll drop by mclaren's garage and give you an early access listen               oscarpiastri: you can pass out at our garage (liked by author)               user4: maybe he does have rizz      mclaren: we can kick lando out of his room if you need a nap tomorrow, YN (liked by author and oscarpiastri)               landonorris: no??               mclaren: changing the access code now               ynyln: I watched the hub tour, can I take oscar's room? (liked by oscarpiastri)               mclaren: done               oscarpiastri: wait      user8: hey scuderiaferrari, mclaren's tryna steal your girl               scuderiaferrari: she'll have extra security tomorrow

"OSCAR!"

Oscar jerked, nearly hitting his head on the underside of the shelf, as Lando burst into his room. "Jesus Christ, mate," he groaned, backing out and turning to look at his teammate. "What?"

"Are you fixing the room up for YN?" Lando waggled his eyebrows as he looked around.

"Oh fuck off," he muttered, going back to plug in his laptop. "How are you this energetic so early?"

"Early?" Lando scoffed, flopping onto the couch. "It's almost noon. We've got the thing in forty-five minutes—"

"And you have nothing better to do than annoy me?" Oscar asked, kicking Lando's feet off the couch before sitting down to open his laptop.

"No? But also I'm here to offer my services."

With a heavy sigh, Oscar closed his laptop and set it aside. "What are you talking about?"

"You and YN."

Oscar just stared at him. "There's no and."

Lando waved one hand. "I saw the pictures, mate. Did you see the pictures?"

"Pretty sure I did? What the fuck are you talking about?"

Sitting up, Lando whipped out his phone and opened his photo album. "One perk to being so nice is the social media admin sends me any pics I ask him to." Swiping through, he pulled up one and turned his phone so Oscar could see. "Exhibit A."

It was the same photo posted to the official mclaren account. The one of he and YN chatting at the barricade. "It's two people talking."

"That's not the point – It's the looking," Lando pushed the phone closer to him. "Until I saw this I didn't really understand the heart eyes for days meme but now? Osc, mate, she's into you."

He let out a humorless chuckle. "And you call me a muppet. No she's not."

"What were you talking about that had her smiling like that?" Lando swiped to another photo.

"I dunno." About home. Not a house, but the feeling of belonging. And how important music was in destroying barriers of language and lifestyles. He could have talked to her for hours, could have listened to her talk about what she used to escape her demons for days. "I think music."

"And here?"

Oscar kept his face blank, as though he wasn't staring at himself blushing and giggling over what YN had said.

"I know you care but sometimes your whole attitude is literally 'I don't give a fuck about this' in interviews and I gotta say: same."

"Ah… Media I think." He cleared his throat and got to his feet.

"Mate, it's alright to like her."

No it wasn't. "It's not like that."

"Right so you telling her the view from the dog's head is enchanting was just small talk?"

Lando was not going to let this go. "She saw my video of my hike and asked about it."

"And?" Lando threw up his hands when Oscar just looked at him. "That was your cue to say oh it's lovely, why don't we go together one morning!"

"Er… No, I'd never say something like that." Oscar shook his head. Not to mention she was tangled up with Charles...

"That's the problem—" Lando cut off when the door opened. One of the PR team popped her head in.

"Hi Oscar, you've got a visitor. She said you're expecting her so I'll bring her up?"

"Uh… Sure?" Oscar winced as his voice cracked on the word, dragging his hands over his face as the door clicked shut.

"Who's coming to see you?" Lando asked suspiciously, helping himself to one of the drinks from the fridge.

"I don't have a clue," he sighed.

"Maybe it's YN. She promised to drop by so you can hear her new music right?"

"Are you constantly reading comments?" Oscar muttered. "Yeah she did but I doubt she'd come straight—" He gulped when there was a knock at the door.

"Oh this is gonna be great," Lando giggled, taking a sip of his energy drink as he went to open the door. "Well hello! We were just talking about you."

It was her, because of course it was, she wasn't the type to make even the vaguest of promises then not fulfill them, and she was in his private room, smiling and bubbly as she greeted him and Lando, and—

Lando. Fuck's sake it would take an act of god to get him to leave the room now.

"All good I hope," YN said with a little laugh.

"Only the best," Lando promised. "Osc can't shut up about you."

"Shut up," Oscar groaned, drowned out by YN's giggle.

"I think it's so cute that you call him Osc. My assistant – ybffn? She calls him Pastry Boy."

Lando's eyes went wide, and Oscar groaned again when his friend burst into high-pitched laughter. "No but it fits! He does love a good pastry!"

YN swiveled her eyes to him and he felt his stomach twist. "Do you?"

"Oh god, yeah. My trainer hates it because I can't say no to a good pastry." He rubbed the back of his neck, wondering why his palms felt sweaty.

"Yeah I'm with you there. We went incognito in Paris just so I could buy and eat every pastry I wanted." She sighed happily at the memory.

"You can still go incognito?" he asked, surprised.

"Sometimes. Luckily no one knew which hotel I was staying at so we were able to sneak out without being noticed. And Pete was with us. When he's in jeans and a hoodie nobody pays attention to him. Plus it was raining so I was able to keep my hood up."

"What's your favorite pastry?" Lando asked casually.

"That's like asking a mother which child is her favorite…" YN scrunched her face and sighed. "Pain au chcocolate."

"Perfect choice, that's the best," Oscar said with a nod.

"Isn't it? I love pastry and chocolate, it's—"

"The best of both worlds," he finished with her.

"Yes!" She grinned and the twist in his stomach loosened, unleashing a swarm of butterflies.

"Oh this is so beautiful," Lando murmured, yelping when Oscar elbowed him in the ribs.

"Did you get to the studio?" he asked her.

"Yes." She practically glowed, shrugging off her backpack. Motioning for her to sit, he stumbled when Lando pushed him towards the couch. "I got two tracks down and a couple rough demos—" She pulled out a tablet, shoving her backpack to her other side as Oscar sat next to her.

Lando huffed and took the chair. "Oh!" he blurted, his expression innocent. "Did you want me to leave? I don't wanna ruin a private listening party."

"No it's fine." She flashed him a smile then turned her attention to the tablet. "The first one is just a demo. I'm not that great on guitar and it was last minute, so…"

Oscar listened as she rambled on about how she'd been inspired for the one and the second was a last minute burst she'd cranked out with just herself and the guitar. "Anyways," she said with a small shrug, handing the tablet to Oscar. "Just hit play."

He did, and was met with a strumming guitar. Then her voice, and he marveled at her ability to sing so beautifully so early in the morning. He glanced at her, saw she'd pulled her knees up and was nodding her head to the beat. I was enchanted to meet you. Please don't be in love with someone else. Please don't have somebody waiting on you...

ynyln has posted to their story

[caption: got lost at the mclaren hub oops]

YN smiled as she posted the story and locked her phone, picking up her cup to finish her coffee. She'd been hanging out with them for nearly two hours. Well, with Oscar. Lando had been in and out, giggling and giving Oscar knowing looks. "I should really get going."

Lando nodded, smiling. "Glad you liked the transition. If you ever want…"

Laughing, she patted his shoulder. "As soon as I'm ready to do a remix album I'll call you."

"Perfect." He nudged Oscar and tipped his head.

Confused, because she could tell Lando was trying to silently tell his friend something, she got her backpack and picked up her paddock pass. "I can see—"

"I'll walk you out," Oscar blurted, already on his feet.

"Thanks." Waving goodbye to Lando, she headed out of the room, smiling her thanks when Oscar opened the door for her.

"He's a bit mental, but he's alright," he said as they walked along to the stairs.

"Lando? My grandma would say he's hyper." YN headed down the stairs, stopping at the bottom to loop her pass over her neck.

"She'd be right," he chuckled.

She felt him tugging on her backpack and glanced over her shoulder to see him zipping the front compartments.

"Don't want you losing anything," he said. His cheeks tinged pink and she almost giggled.

"Thanks. Did you get a hike in this morning?" she asked once they were walking across the hub towards the exit.

"No, I did work in the gym. Did – Oh right you were at the studio."

"I'm gonna try to go tomorrow," she said. She wondered if Charles would want to join her.

"Do…" He cleared his throat, stopping just before they got to the doors.

"Hm?" She turned to face him.

"Would you, um…" His cheeks darkened and he ran a hand through his hair. "Christ, I'm bad at this."

Realizing what he was trying to say, she gave him a soft smile. "Do you want to come with me on the hike in the morning?"

He nearly sagged with relief. "I-if you want company, yeah."

"I'd love to." Taking out her phone, she unlocked it and handed it to him so he could give her his number. "I'll text you so you'll have me – What time did you want to head out?"

"Whenever you'd like. I don't have anything until afternoon." He handed her phone back with a smile.

Making sure to save him, she sent him a quick text - 👋🏻 – and leaned to kiss his cheek. "Text me later and we can make plans."

"Yeah, alright," he agreed.

"I'll see you in the morning, Oscar. Thanks for everything," she said, rolling her eyes when Pete appeared at her side. Exchanging farewells with Oscar, she held onto her phone as she left, glancing back to see Oscar watching her through the window. Used to Pete's surly silence, she didn't talk on the way back to the Ferrari hospitality center, unconsciously chewing on her lip as she thought over the day.

Taglist:

@lichterfee | @formulaal | @a-beaverhausen | @dullypully |

[plussizefantasia]

Don't Cry Over Spilled Lemonade

Anthony Bridgerton x f!reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: None that I can think of, this is kinda angsty tho

A/N: Surprise post IG I wrote this in my notes app because I couldn't sleep so if there are spelling or grammar issues I'm sorry. let me know if you want a part two because I wouldn't mind continuing this.

Anthony adored how close you were to his siblings. You had become a close family friend ever since you defended Daphne against some creep at her first-ever ball out in society, it was your second season and you had taken it upon yourself to keep an eye on the diamond, looking out for her quietly in the background.

You weren’t going to intervene at all, just offer her some advice woman to woman if the need arose but when you saw Baron Taylor grab the redhead by the wrist you couldn’t hold back.

Anthony himself was only seconds away from coming to his sister's aid when you ‘accidently’ tripped into the man spilling your glass of lemonade down the front of his vest. 

“Perhaps my Lord if we kept our hands to ourselves certain… interventions might’ve not had to happen. Don’t you think?” When Anthony had seen your raised eyebrow and defensive posture all aimed at the scumbag who dared lay a hand on his baby sister he couldn’t help but fall a little bit in love right then and there. Not that he’d ever admit it to himself or anyone else for that matter.

A day later Daphne had invited you to tea at their family house in order to thank you for the rescue and potentially make a new friend and ally within the marriage mart.

Ever since that day, you’d been a regular in his home, but you were never there for him as much as he’d have liked you to be. No, you were always there for one of his siblings. You were there to talk with Daphne, first about her counting of the duke and then slowly transitioning into how she felt about being a married woman and then a mother. He could also find you sketching in silence next to Benedict, the two of you after attending to draw the same scene and then critiquing each other's work when you were done. You would trade books and ideas with Eloise, listen to Fran play the piano while working on your embroidery, and the scenes which would warm his heart the most, you’d come around to chase after Greg and Hyancith playing with them in the gardens and keeping a watchful eye to make sure they stayed safe. 

Anthony adored how close you were to his siblings, and he loathed how much of a distance there seemed to be between the two of you. 

You were cold to the Viscount, you had been since the evening you came to Daphne’s rescue, he had attempted to give you his thanks and you had simply excused yourself, “My apologies my Lord but I seem to be down a glass of lemonade presently and I find myself to be quite parched, excuse me.” Your tone was cold and Anthony spent the rest of that night and the next two years trying to figure out what he possibly couldn’t done to make you so icy towards him.

“I do not understand it Ben, she is so kind and lovely to the rest of you but is like a stone wall when it comes to me, what could I be missing?”

“Perhaps she just doesn’t like you brother have you ever thought of that?” Benedict was too preoccupied with this still life to deal with his older brothers pining at the moment. 

“That is not possible, I’ve done nothing but be the perfect gentleman to her.” 

“Anthony I have no idea why dear Y/N does not like you but what exactly will you whining in my studio do about that?” 

“I resent that. I am not whining I am simply asking my dearest brother for his advice on a matter I care very much about. I thought that was what brothers were for.”

“You want my advice, Anthony? Think. Think long and hard about what you want and how you’ll get it because Y/N has no patience for wishy-washy men.”

“That is horrible advice, Ben.”

“When then perhaps you can find better advice from your other brothers. Which will it be Anthony, the one who has been blindly in love with his best friend for years, or the ten-year-old?” 

“I hate it when you’re right.”

“I know. Now leave, that storm cloud above your head is casting shadows on my fruit.” Ben pointed his paintbrush at the bowl of fruit balanced atop a stool. Anthony huffed and knowing that it would bother his brother, he grabbed the apple off the top of the pile and took a bite of it as he strode out of the room

Ben had told him to think, but Anthony didn’t know what to think about. He knew that he craved your attention. He knew that he enjoyed seeing you around his house, interacting with the people whom he loves. He enjoyed hearing your witty comebacks and the way that even if you were not doing anything in particular you still fill the space you’re in.

He wanted her in his life, and if he was being completely honest with himself he wanted more than that. 

It’s during his musing that he runs into her in the hallway, you have a book clutched within your hand, and your head is held high. You don’t stop your stride even though he knows that you saw him. He bites his lip and tampers down a smirk. Add another thing to that list of things he likes about you, you have fire, he just wished that it wasn’t always aimed at him.

“Lady, L/N which one of my dear siblings are you spending your day with today?” He attempts to match his pace with yours catching up to you so that the two of you walk shoulder and shoulder.

“Actually, Lord Bridgerton, I was having tea with your mother this afternoon she invited me over so we could discuss what to do about Frannie’s debut next season.”

This was not something that normal family friends do, you know that and he knows that. His sibling’s entrances into society are a matter which the viscountess must handle, something his mother has had to continue to do because of his lack of a wife. 

“That was very kind of you to help her with.”

“Well, she doesn’t have anyone else to help her.” Your words cut him down, not for the first time. 

“Lady L/N may I be frank?”

“It is your home, you may do as you please.” You turn to face him, your face a mask of indifference. 

“What have I done to cross you, for the longest time I have known you you have been cold to me and I do not understand why?” 

“I had figured that you did not remember, either that or you had purposely forgone trying to speak with me about it.”

“About what?” 

“Our first meeting My Lord.” 

“I remember our first meeting very clearly, it is one of my fondest memories seeing you stand up for Daphne and ruin Lord Taylor’s vest.” He tilts his head to the side and smiles at the memory.

“That was not the first time we met My Lord, the first time we met you snubbed me in front of the entire ton and sparked rumors that did not leave me until two seasons later.” She was harsh in her words and the tightness in her shoulder’s belayed her desire to flee.

Anthony was speechless, surely he had not? He would’ve remembered her, would’ve remembered turning down one of the most beautiful women he had ever met, intentionally or otherwise. 

“I- I beg your deepest forgiveness Y/N I do not remember and if I had I would’ve tried to make it up to you tenfold by now.”

Your eyes began to gloss over and you looked at the wall beside his head, “It was my first season out, Lady Danbury’s ball, and I had seen you standing there surrounded by other gentleman. I had thought you a very fine figure and despite the rumor mill telling me you were nothing but a rake I had tried to begin a conversation. All you did was turn to me and laugh. I wasn’t asked to dance for the entire rest of that season and it was only until my Mother forced the son of one of her garden party friends to dance with me was that streak broken. You were the first and only man I had ever attempted to pursue and you laughed in my face. Were it not for my deep need to help those I see in need I would never have talked to you or any member of the Bridgerton family for the rest of my life.”

“You must know that I regret that, I regret everything I have ever done to hurt you and I will spend the rest of my days working for your forgiveness.” If Anthony was a weaker man he would’ve fallen to his knees and begged for your forgiveness until his last breath, right there in the hallways of his family’s home.

“I appreciate your words Anthony, but that’s all they are… words. I am unmarried, one year from becoming a spinster in the eyes of the entire ton, and you, you are the only one I can blame.” You don’t wait for his reply, just stalking off and wiping the tears from your eyes.

Anthony resolved himself in that moment. He would do whatever it took to make it up to you, to bring a smile to your face, and to cast away the hurt he had caused.

Part 2

[tomsparkyr]

𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

summary: y/n is on her world tour and sings a surprise song that might be dedicated to someone …

oscar piastri x fem!reader

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You paced around backstage, twirling your hair with your fingers and going over every step and lyric in your head. Despite it being your 48th show on your world tour, this one felt more intense, more pressuring, purely because you knew he was in the crowd.

You were brought out of your thoughts by a light tap on your shoulder, causing you to snap your head around to the perpetrator.

Oscar Piastri’s wide smile adorned his face and caused a familiar feeling of butterflies to swarm your stomach; reaching your arms up and wrapping them around Ocsar’s shoulders.

He quickly caught into your embrace and cradled the back of your head, kissing your temple. “You’ll do great, I know you will.” He whispered, his free hand running down the embroidered bodysuit that hugged your figure. His brow raised at the beautiful sight of you and couldn’t wait to take the outfit back home.

You heard the crew call your name so you backed away from your boyfriend, “I’ll see you after, I love you.” He bumped his nose with yours, “I love you too.”

He leaned down to kiss your lips and sighed into you, your hands reaching into his hair. You pulled back, “Ok, Osc I really have to go.” He pulled you back in by your waist.

“They can wait.” He mumbled, “They’ve paid and sat in this boiling weather to see me, you see me every day, Osc!” You laughed as he reluctantly let go, “I’ll bring the orange bodysuit home if you let me go now.” He quickly dropped his hands off your waist and skipped back to his VIP tent, hearing your laughter as he disappeared further from you.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Rumour spread pretty quickly that a Formula 1 Driver was spotted in the VIP tent of your concert. But fans didn’t think much of it, rather traded friendship bracelets with him and took blurry, grainy photos of him for fan pages.

However, fan’s perception changed as you sat down in front of your piano for the surprise songs.

“Hello Sydney!” You laughed into the microphone, hearing the Aussie crowd erupt in cheers and hollers at the song of their hometown. “I hope you’re all enjoying the show!” The reaction from the crowd was enough to tell you that they seemed to be more than happy with it.

You cleared your throat, taking a subtle glance to the VIP tent as you saw a bright orange cap catch your attention. You smiled at his direction, knowing his would return it despite you not being able to see his face.

“I’ve got a surprise for you, Sydney…” You couldn’t help your broad smile lighten up your face at the screams from fans at the barricade.

“The song I’m going to play you is one I haven’t done before… it’s one of my favourites and it means the a lot to me and …others.”

The crowd got impossibly louder, “Here we go…” You adjusted the microphone and looked down at the piano, smiling to yourself and you played the first notes.

None of the fans had clocked onto which song you were playing yet, which made it much more enjoyable for you; taking a deep breath as you sang the first lyric.

“My love was a cruel as the cities I lived in”

Fans began screaming and so many flashes of people filming appeared, people crying and jumping up and down at the song choice.

“I don’t wanna look at anything else now that I saw you”

Your red cheeks and genuine smile was pure and making the fans go wild.

Oscar stood in the VIP tent with a smile and blushing cheeks, swaying to your voice knowing he wrote this song with you. He mouthed the lyrics in time with you and looked at you with heart eyes; a pure look of raw, scream-it-from-the-rooftops love.

“I only see daylight, daylight, daylight, daylight”

You peered over to the VIP tent and saw his orange cap moving along to the beat, the same colour matching the dress that covered your shoulders as of now.

It took the fans a moment for them to realise what was going on, connecting the dots; the love song, the interview, the colour of your dress, the colour Oscar Piastri sports, why Oscar was there, the blush on both of your cheeks.

Holy shit. Y/N Y/L/N and Oscar Piastri were in love.

“I once believed love would be black and white, but it’s golden”

yourusername just posted!

liked by landonorris, taylorswift and 12,392,392 others

yourusername all the love songs were about u, my lover🧡

tagged: oscarpiastri

comments are disabled!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[nicole-timey-wimey-stuff]

It Was Enchanting to Meet You

Lord Debling x Fem reader

Lord Alfred Debling x female Bridgerton reader

Synopsis - You’re the second eldest Bridgerton daughter, being forced by your brother to finally debut. You believed the ordeal would be terrible, that was until you meet the handsome Lord Debling, the handsome stranger soon captivates your mind and heart.

Warnings- fluff, period drama, feelings, very small amount of angst, confessions, great sibling relationships, suggestive themes but no smut. Still 18+ though please.

Word count- 4.7K

Today was the day, the day you were coming out into society, you’d put it off long enough. Being that you were only a year younger than your elder sister Daphne, and a year older than Eloise who were both already out. But your mother hadn’t pushed you and for that you were thankful, your eldest sibling Anthony though was another story. He had all but told you enough was a enough, and even though he would not ever force you to take a husband, you needed to be out in society despite your disagreement with it.

He did not want the great Bridgerton name tarnished, with people starting to talk of the strange girl in the family who did not conform to society’s norm, who did not like social situations, a girl who spent her time fencing, reading and horseback riding. You were a free spirit, one who preferred the wind in her hair, rather than constricted dresses, dancing and polite conversation.

So now just having turned 20 you were being launched into the world around you. This brings you back to today, your mother was flapping making sure both you and Francesca looked perfect, creamy white gowns adorning your bodies, lace perfectly placed, your dress was accentuated with gold floral embroidery and tiny puff sleeves. You adjusted your long white gloves once more before exiting your room, “Ah y/n there you are my love, have you seen your sister I can’t find her anywhere, she is not in her room!” Your mother Violet frets, she’s looking pale and exhausted. “Calm down mother, I’m sure she is about, I can hear music are you sure you haven’t checked it is not her playing?” You ask.

“Oh! No I have not, come, we shall go check together.” She replies, gently grasping your wrist and tugging you down the staircase In search of your sister, you are sure she only holds onto you so she cannot loose you too.

Walking into the drawing room you find it was indeed Francesca playing the piano forte, your mother breathing a big sigh of relief, she is also dressed ready to go. “Well then my children let’s get going shall we?” She asks as she ushers us all out to the carriages, turning to you and Francesca she says “You both look so beautiful!” Voice full of emotion. “Thank you mother” you both say in unison, she nods before you all enter the carriage and head off to the queens palace.

The whole thing went by in a blur, you walked down the aisle, bowed to the queen then exited out to the side, you’d all entered out into a garden party where people were mingling happily. Your brother Colin who had just returned from travels, was boasting to the young ladies, causing them to fawn over him. Penelope Featherington sadly watching from the sidelines, you were very aware of how she felt for your brother, being the same age you had spent many moments together. Although you wouldn’t call her a close friend, it saddened you to see her aways watching him with such hopeful but sad eyes.

You decided she could do with a distraction so you made your way over to her, “Hey Pen, how are you? I haven’t seen you about the house recently?” You ask, she jumps, obviously you’d caught her very much deep in thought. “My goodness y/n you scared me” she gasps hand on her chest, “Sorry Pen, we were both on our own so I thought I’d come talk with you” you explain. Her face softens then “Of course, you can always come talk to me, I know how hard this must all be for you” she replies her face now sympathetic. “Yes, I do so hate public attention, but alas my brother thought it was necessary” you sigh, nodding Penelope gave you a look of understanding, “We must all be pushed out into society sooner or later, I was just 17 when my mother decided I needed to be out. And look over three years later and I’m still just sat here with no suitor prospects, I wish I could find a husband” she groans, “What? Why? You’ve never seemed too interested before?” You ask.

With a sigh she turns to you “In all honesty I need my privacy, and I just cannot stand living with my family any longer, at least your family is supportive and kind, mine can be just awful” she complains. You nod, you understand, her family have always been difficult especially her mother! “Well then Pen I hope you find a kind, loyal man to be your husband this season, you deserve some happiness” you tell her in earnest. “Thank you y/n, you do too, whatever that is for you, you deserve happiness too” she says as she walks off, leaving you once more to your thoughts.

Would you find happiness? What was happiness to you anyways?

________________________________________

That evening you were attending your very first ball, nerves settled deep within your stomach. There would be many people attending Lady Danbury’s ball, and you were hoping to quietly blend into the crowds, not causing any reason to warrant any unwanted attention. Anthony had insisted on you being present, he had also given you a list of people he had chosen for your to converse with.

Your dress though, that you had chosen for yourself, it was a deep maroon, corseted down to your waist, it then flared out into a subtle A line ballgown. It had thick off the shoulders straps, sparkling embroidery and a skirt that swished as you moved. You wanted something that felt more freeing, compared to the tight empire line gowns that were the norm. Giving yourself a last once over you sighed, although you looked like a princess, you felt absolutely ridiculous.

Entering the party was as equally nerve wrecking as bowing to the queen this morning, walking down the steps after your brothers and sisters you felt all eyes shift to you, you held your head hire and floated down with all the grace you could muster, it must have worked because once you’d reached the bottom all eyes were still glued to you. Your mother came rushing to meet you, “You did well, you entered as gracefully as a swan” she gushed, you rolled your eyes at her enthusiasm, “Well mother my plan is to not cause any unwanted attention, I don’t want them thinking I am some wild animal that cannot be tamed” you sassed back. Tutting she guided you through the crowds to meet some new people, what you hadn’t noticed though, were a pair of very entranced blue eyes belonging to the one Lord Alfred Debling watching your entrance.

“Who is she?” Lord Debling asked Lady Danbury, “That would be Miss Y/N Bridgerton, second eldest daughter of the Bridgerton family” Lady Danbury answered. “I see” he replies eyes still watching you intently, Lady Danbury smirks knowingly, “I may also add, she only debuted this morning so from what I gather she is very much on the market, so to speak” she smiled. “Is that so?” He asks eyes still enchanted by you. The pair hadn’t noticed Cressida Cowper Joining them, not until she spoke up causing them to both jump slightly, “I’ve heard she’s a strange girl” she abruptly interrupts, “And where have you heard that Miss Cowper?” Asks Lady Danbury, her voice full of exasperation.

“Well I’ve heard she prefers the outdoors over social gatherings, she rides her horse bareback at some speed I may add, I’ve seen it myself. When I’ve called on Eloise this summer she’s either sprinting through the country on her horse or she has her nose in some weird book” she explains amusedly. “I don’t see how that makes her strange, but rather it makes her unique” Lord Debling affirms, “Well also” Cressida stutters out trying to find something more vexing to say about you, “Ah she also fences, she sword fights with her brothers, isn’t it incredibly odd, incorrect even for a young lady to sword fight?” She points out. “I dare say! Does she really?” He asks Lady Danbury, “Yes I believe she does” Danbury replies, the smug look is soon wiped off Cressida’s face though when he turns back to Lady Danbury, “That is incredibly impressive, what a young lady she is! I will go introduce myself” and with that he leaves in search of you.

He finds you over by the drinks helping yourself to one before retreating to the corner, “Miss Bridgerton? Are you quite alright? You appear to be hiding in the corner” he asks. You bow quickly “Lord Debling, I’m quite well thank you, just not one for large social gathering's” you answer honestly. “Ah, no me either actually, I prefer to be outdoors” he responds. You smile up at him shyly “I do too” you agree, “Riding Percy gives me much more joy than this” you continue, choking on his drink Lord Debling gasps “I beg your pardon you what?”, “Percy, he’s my horse, a Suffolk punch, my brother Anthony bought him for me for my birthday a few years back, I most enjoy riding him through the countryside, where it’s nice and quiet” you explain,

“Oh of course, I heard from Lady Danbury that you enjoy riding, he conveys, cheeks bright red now from his misunderstanding. “Lady Danbury spoke of me? To you?” You ask confused, “Umm yes, I happened to ask after you” he admits, you offer him a smile “I see and what else did she happen to say about me?” You question teasingly causing him to smirk, “Nothing much else, just that this was your first season” he stutters out now feeling very put on the spot, “Oh yes well I put it off as long as I possibly could, but my brother is forcing me to try this year” you confirm, “Is it so very bad?” He asks, teasing smile on his lips, “Well maybe not as bad as I had made it out to be in my head” you admit.

“Well then, would you care to dance?” He offers, hand outstretched towards you. “Yeah ok, why not, in the name of trying new things of course” you smile, “Of course” he repeats, clearly amused by you. He walks you out to the dance floor as everyone lines up, ready for the dance to begin. As the music plays he spins you around the dance floor, your eyes never leaving one another’s, its almost as if there’s static energy between you, your hearts pounding in your chest, you can tell everyone is watching you both, but in that moment all you can see is him.

“Is that your daughter Violet, dancing with Lord Debling?” One of the mothers asks, “Yes” your mother laughs, “I dare say it is” her face is lit up at the way your both staring at each other, thoughts of Daphne and Simon’s first dance entering her mind. This looked very promising, she thought you’d be the hardest to convince to give this whole ordeal a try, but you were entranced by the man before you, and it was Francesca who had made a rather hastily exit home already.

Lady Danbury joins your mother, “He asked about her you know, the second she entered the room” she tells your mother, knowing smirk still plastered on her face, “Did he?” Your mother asks, “Yes, he seemed very much intrigued by her, maybe we’ve made a match already” she implies, “Maybe…….. I will speak to my daughter once we are home” you mother decides. Nodding in agreement Lady Danbury takes her leave.

Once your dance comes to an end you bow and move to walk away, thinking he would have other young ladies to dance with, a soft grip of your hand causes you to turn, coming face to face with Lord Debling once more, “May I call on your tomorrow?” He asks, “Yes you may” you give a curt nod before leaving with your family.

This night had gone much better than expected, you thought to yourself whilst laying in bed, you felt excited to see what else was to come.

________________________________________

The next day you’d woken up early, to get yourself dressed for your sword fighting lesson, hoping you’d have time to freshen up before anyone had any callers, you smile to yourself at the thought of seeing Lord Debling again today. Bounding down the stairs you met your instructor Henry, “Good morning Miss Bridgerton, are you ready?” He asks, “Yes I am” you affirm, “Very good, although I don’t see how you need any more lessons now, I’ve taught you everything I know, and you have mastered it all”, you grin “Why thank you Henry, but I can tell you why I need my lessons” you reply, “And why is that Miss Bridgerton?” He asks, “Because I enjoy them” you laugh as you get into position.

Your two eldest brothers had joined you now, you were currently practicing against Benedict, completely loosing track of time. “Why do you encourage this Anthony?” Your mother asks, “Well dear mother I think it’s good that a lady knows how to defend herself, no one will ever mess with our little y/n now will they?” He questions playfully, rolling her eyes she waves him off as she leaves the room.

“Ha! I win again! Really Benedict are you even trying?” You goad, sweaty and exhausted he gives you the are you kidding look, “Yes dear sister unfortunately I am!” He grumbles, Anthony snorts out a laugh “Well I dare say these lessons are paying off, you have quite the talent” he praises you, “Thank you brother” you smile. Just then one of your maids enter the room, “Someone’s here to see you Miss” she announces, realisation hits you! Oh no Lord Debling has arrived and your still in your fencing clothes.

Walking in he smiles at you, you bow nervously before rambling out, “I’m very sorry I lost track of time my lord, please excuse me for a moment while I go change”, “Nonsense don’t worry about it, I’d love to see you in action” he answers, “Really!?” You ask surprised, he nods in response, you look to Anthony motioning for him to come join you, but he puts his hands up in surrender, “Oh no, watching Benedict loose all credibility was quite enough for one day, I will go find my wife, as I promised her a walk this morning.” He replies, “I’ll spar with you” Lord Debling offers, “Oh I couldn’t ask that of you my Lord” you hastily reply, “You’re not asking, I’m offering” he affirms before removing his jacket and placing on Benedict’s fencing armour.

Anthony lets out a laugh, “Perfect” he announces, before turning to Lord Debling “Don’t let her win, she will know. She is incredibly able” he confirms before leaving to find his wife. “Well are you ready then?” Debling asks you, “Yes, quite ready” you smirk back. As the two of you spar the static energy returns from last night, you fall into an effortless rhythm against one another, he fights well, there is technique and power to his moves, but you are just too quick for him, eventually knocking the sword from his hands and pointing yours to his chest in victory,

“I say! You are rather good at this aren’t you” he laughs, “Yeah I think it’s because I enjoy it so much” you agree.

“You Miss Bridgerton are an incredibly rare flower indeed” he says, “Thanks” you reply warm blush adorning your cheeks, “Will you save me a dance at tonight’s party?” He asks. “Yes of course” you reply maybe a little too hastily, “Well then, until tonight” he offers placing a delicate kiss to your knuckles. Before leaving he looks back towards you once more, giving you the most endearing smile.

You were very much looking forward to seeing him again tonight.

________________________________________

Over the next few weeks the two of you became much more acquainted with one another, you danced together at every party, usually more than once, you took chaperoned strolls together in the park and your family had also invited him over a couple of times for dinner.

You’d learnt much about him, his love for animals and wildlife, the fact he didn’t eat meat, all his adventure and conservation ideas, you’d become completely enamoured with this man, It appeared he also was with you too.

Today you were both taking a stroll in the park, the sun was warm and the smell of blossoms filled the spring air. Your maid was walking a few steps behind you, keeping a watchful eye. “Beautiful day is it not?” You ask him cheerfully, enjoying the sunshine on your skin. “Yes it is, but I can see something much more beautiful” he replies watching you carefully, you turn your head to hide your reddening cheeks. “Will you be attending the garden party tomorrow? I hear there will be a new form of transport being showcased” you ask, “Yes I believe I will be attending” he responds while smiling at you, grinning up at him you offer a nod in response.

“Well I bid you farewell Lord Debling, I have promised to help my mother this afternoon, I will see you tomorrow?” You offer, “Yes I shall see you tomorrow, good afternoon Miss Bridgerton” he replies. You spare him one last glance, before you walk off with your maid.

________________________________________

It was the day of the garden party and you were stood looking at the enormous ballon in awe, was that really supposed to be able to carry people through the sky? “Quite spectacular isn’t it?” Lord Deblings voice cut through your thoughts causing you to jump, “My Lord, you gave me a fright!” You gasped, “I am sorry, that was not my intention” he responds “That’s ok, it is spectacular yes, although I do worry how it’s supposed to transport people” you reply.

“Yes quite, but I suppose only time will tell, are you well Miss Bridgerton?” He asks, “Yes, thank you my Lord I am very well” you affirm, “Good” he nods.

As the afternoon goes on Penelope, Eloise and Cressida join in your conversation, Cressida going out of her way to try and impress Lord Debling, not even caring how desperate and contrary it makes her appear. Penelope spends the whole time staring at Colin and Eloise is pretty much rolling her eyes at everybody’s antics. Cressida continues to laugh at something he said, almost hanging off his arm, causing a pit of jealousy to stir in your stomach.

You turn your attention once again to the large ballon, which is now rocking very unstably in the wind, creaking and groaning as the ropes loosen. Just as they snap your brothers are rushing over to pull them back, using as much strength as they can muster to pull the thing back into place. All you can do is watch in terror as they lose control and the ship comes hurtling towards you, it all happens so quick, one miniute you’re watching terrified, the next you’re on the floor Lord Deblings body shielding you.

“Are you quite alright?” He asks gazing into your eyes, “Yes all thanks to you”. He carefully traces his fingertips down the side of your jaw, you watch him with wide eyes, wanting nothing more than to lean in and kiss him. Someone loudly clears their throat behind you, you both jump apart, turning to see Cressida and Eloise watching you both.

Lord Debling jumps up before offering you a hand up too, “What luck you were there to save my sister, thank you my Lord” Eloise states, “Of course, it was nothing” he replies before walking off.

“What was that y/n?” Eloise gasps, “I hardly know” you reply, completely shocked yourself.

________________________________________

That very evening you arrived at the ball still very much in shock, more so by Lord Deblings behaviour than nearly being squashed by the heavy ballon. Your mother currently had you making small talk with every eligible Lord in the room, “Mother is this really necessary?” You grumbled as you made your way over to yet another man, “Yes my darling daughter it is, until Lord Debling actually proposes you must keep your options open” she insists, “But Anthony said I do not have to marry this season, only that I must be out in society” you ask confused.

“Yes I know my sweet girl, but every year you’re on the market the less desirable you become, now make haste” she commands, you roll your eyes at her as she drags you through the crowd, “Lady Bridgerton, Miss Bridgerton, how nice to see you both” Lord Cambell greets, “Lord Cambell, lovely to see you again” you reply with a very forced smile. “Would you have any space left on your card to include a dance with me?” He asks, you stutter before your mother replies on your behalf, “My daughter would be delighted”, you resentfully offer your wrist and card for him to write his name on, before bowing and leaving to find some corner to hide in.

After no empty corner is found you retreat to the gardens in hope of some peace, leaning against the cold stone of the house you close your eyes, taking a deep breath. “Miss Bridgerton you should not be out here alone” Lord Deblings voice causes you to jump, “My goodness my Lord! Must you always startle me so.” You gasp, “Sorry I never intend too” he replies in earnest, “But you really shouldn’t be out here alone” he repeats as he steps closer, “Yes I know, but I need a minute to breathe, it’s awfully stuffy in there, and my mother is being a nuisance….” You trail off, voice stuttering as he steps closer once more, “By nuisance you mean by parading you around the room, like a prized animal?” He smirks, “Yes” you stammer, feeling more breathless than before if that was at all possible.

He carefully moves a piece of hair from your face, “Do you not wish for the attention of the Lords here tonight Miss Bridgerton?” He asks, “No, not from those ones anyways” you whisper, then in a flash his mouth meets yours, it’s passionate and gentle, it’s fire but also calm. Your fingers grasp his jacket as you pull him in closer, moulding your body to his own, his fingers move from your face to your neck, tilting your face to give him better access. His other hand grasps your thigh as he pulls it over his hip, grounding down into you causing a low whimper from your lips, moving from your mouth he kisses down your neck, nipping at your sweet spot, your hands slide into his hair as you grind into his hips once more.

Your movement causes him to gasp before quickly pulling himself away from you, leaving you a breathless mess. “I shouldn’t have done that” he worries, “My Lord?” You ask confused and worried, “I shouldn’t have put you in that position I am so very sorry” he repeats and your heart sinks, was he going to reject you now? Were you about to loose all credibility? Sensing your despair he quickly comforts you, “What I mean to say is that shouldn’t have happened before I asked for your hand, I do not wish to dishonour you, if you will have me and your brother agrees to it, I would very much like to make you my wife” he confirms, “Really?” You ask.

“Yes really, I am quite enamoured with you my dearest y/n, I came here to the Ton to seek out a wife, I thought I could find a match of convenience, one where I could travel and my wife would happily stay at home managing my estate. I did not think love was in the cards for me, I believed that my work would take up too much space in my heart for that, but then I met you, and my goodness did you change everything” he explains.

“Is this a confession of love my Lord?” You ask still very much breathless.

“It is yes, I didn’t come here to seek it which makes this as much a surprise to me as it is to yourself” he replies.

“I love you too” you admit, which causes his handsome face to light up, “I too did not believe this would happen, when my brother asked me to debut this season, I admit I hated the very idea, but I’m so very glad I did as it lead me to you” You confess.

“Well then my love, I believe I have a question to ask your brother” he replies, his hand seeking to find your own, grasping his with yours you reply “I suppose you do”. He gives you one last kiss on your cheek before heading inside to seek out your brother. You are still stood against the house, breaths still racing as you trace your lips with your fingertips, the tingling of his kisses still present.

Upon entering your home that evening Anthony stops you “Y/N may I speak with you a moment?” He asks, “Yea of course brother what is it?”

“Lord Debling has asked for my permission to propose to you, he says he has the deepest of feelings for you and he wishes you to be his wife, I know him to be a very kind man, one who obviously wouldn’t ever hurt an animal or a woman, he has a great estate and great prospects, so if it’s what you want I will agree to it at once, but I told him I had to talk with my sister first” he explains.

You smile knowing how deeply your family cares for each other, this is something you will never take for granted. “Truth is brother, I love him very much, I didn’t think it were possible to find someone I could fall for so deeply, but here we are” you reply.

“Very well then I shall give him my permission” Anthony affirms. You walk over and give him a chaste kiss to the cheek, “Thank you brother” you respond, he nods giving your shoulder an affectionate squeeze before wandering off.

You were going to be married! Not only that to a man you love, you felt such happiness in that moment your chest could burst.

________________________________________

The next morning whilst reading your maid walked in announcing Lord Debling was here to see you, you nod at her to let him in.

“Hello my love, are you well this morning?” He asks as he enters the room.

“I am quite well my Lord thank you” you smile.

“Please call me Alfred, such formalities feel no longer necessary”

“Very well Alfred, but then you must call me y/n so we are on equal terms” you reply.

He laughs, “Of course, my dearest y/n, so I’m guessing it’s no secret to as why I am here?” He asks.

“Well I have an idea, but I will need you to clarify” you respond with wit.

“Very well Miss y/n Bridgerton” he begins before getting down on one knee, “You have bewitched my heart, and I’m asking if you will do me the extraordinary honour of becoming my wife?”

Walking towards him you kneel down in front of him, reaching out and tracing his stubbled cheek, “Yes Alfred, I will marry you” you gush before moving in and placing your lips against his, in a sweet soft kiss.

Just then all your family enter the room offering congratulations, you thank them all but your eyes never leave his, as you think to yourself yes you believe this will be a very happy marriage indeed.