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ashwhowrites · 11 hours

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Hi! Can you please write something abt Eddie x Cheerleader! Reader? Like they met at detention and Eddie was surprised bc “Hawkins High Princess” was at detention, maybe they started to sneak out and went to the bench at the woods, and after some time, they fell in love?

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Hawkins princess

Eddie knew the route to detention like the back of his hand. It was a routine he did almost daily. Walking down the hallway to the small classroom filled with the other delinquents.

He took the chair in the back corner, as always, and propped his dirty sneakers on the table. He crossed his arms and slanted his head down, preparing for an afternoon nap.

He looked up when people gasped as the doors opened. He was shocked to see Y/N shuffling inside.

She sat near the front, and Eddie was already picking up his stuff. He slammed his body right next to her spot, a dazzling smirk on his face.

She eyed him but didn't say the first word.

"What the hell did the Hawkins princess do to land in here?" He asked, his voice was loud. She sat in her cheerleading uniform, growing uncomfortable from the eyes on her.

"Punched Jason in the jaw," she said as she rolled her eyes. She'd do it again with no regrets.

Eddie's smirk grew as he looked impressed

"Well damn, I think you deserve an award for that." Eddie joked

"Yeah well, no one else thought so." She shrugged. She was a bit annoyed she got called into dentition for it. He practically asked for it.

"Eddie Munson right?" She asked, turning her body to face him. A look in her eyes.

"The one and only" he smiled

"You know how to get out of here?" She whispered, leaning closer

"Oh baby, I do." He said, grabbing her hand and racing out the doors.

She laughed as they ran to his van, she could hear teachers yelling but she loved that Eddie kept going.

He peeled off on two tires as she held on to the door. She didn't ask where they were going to go, she weirdly trusted him.

And that's where their adventure began.

~~~

She didn't get a dentition after that, but that didn't mean she stopped seeing him. She'd skip out of practice and knock on the door, once he saw her he was taking off. Then they'd run and run.

Their destination changed how they felt. Sometimes they cruised on the roads until they found a beach, or they went down the street for burgers and fries. Sometimes they went to Eddie's or she snuck him in her bedroom.

She loved how fun he was and how spontaneous he could be.

"Wanna go smoke?" He asked, they reached his van but he didn't open the doors.

"I don't smoke but I'll sit with you." She offered. She would sit and do nothing with him, his presence was enough to entertain her.

"Sweet. I got a place" he winked and took her hand again.

She felt her heart racing as they walked through the woods, his hand tight as it held hers.

She never thought she'd find herself crushing on Eddie, but boy was she fucked. It was weeks of sneaking out to be alone with him, and she was captivated by his persona. He was just as crazy, loud, and obnoxious as he was in school, and she found herself loving it.

"Here she is!" He said, letting go of her hand to proudly show off the tiny wooden bunch. "My second favorite girl," he said as he knocked on the wood and took a seat.

"Who's number one?" Y/N asked as she sat on the bench across from him, secretly hoping he'd grab her and place her right next to him.

"You," he said with another wink, making her body heat up as she tried to play it off

He got busy working on his joint as she watched. She squirmed at the way his fingers perfectly rolled the paper. And she held back a moan as his tongue swiped across the paper to seal it. She never knew how attractive Eddie could be.

He lit the end and the smoke filled the air. She silently watched as he puffed on the joint, the way his lips wrapped around the end. The way he inhaled and his neck stretched.

The smell filled her nose and knocked her into reality.

"Wanna try?" He asked

"No, thanks. Chrissy would kill me." Y/N laughed

"Didn't you punch her boyfriend then skip out on multiple practices?" Eddie laughed

"Eh all worth it." She laughed with him.

Eddie held the joint with his mouth as he reached for her hand. "Healed nice." He said, muffled by the joint but she knew what he said.

She felt her face blush as he softly traced her skin.

"Can I ask you something?" She asked

He nodded and returned his hand to smoke the joint the correct way.

"Wanna go to my place? My parents are out for the weekend." She asked, and she asked in a way that Eddie knew what she meant.

He coughed the smoke out of his lungs. He tried to keep his cool but inside his brain was cheering and patting himself on the back.

"Oh hell yes"

That night they went further than ever before. They kissed, made out, and had sex. All weekend long. They barely left the sheets, just soaking in each other from sunrise to sunset.

That weekend she realized she was falling for him.

~~~

"I can't keep covering your ass for the coach. She's pissed you ditched out on weekend practice." Chrissy said, sitting next to Y/N as the cafeteria filled.

"It's the weekend. I'm not spending it with her." Y/N scoffed

"Well, I have an idea who you spent it with" Chrissy smirked, flicking the dark spot on Y/N's neck.

"Ow!" Y/N flinched

"Spill," Chrissy said, somehow getting closer to Y/N.

Y/N sighed and looked over at Eddie, Chrissy followed her eyes and gasped. Causing the table to look at her.

"What?" Jason asked, his black eye now returning to a normal color.

"Nothing. Mind your business." Y/N snapped. Once the table went back to their conversations, Chrissy silently squealed.

"Bad boy of Hawkins? Oh I know he's dirty." Chrissy teased, she looked back at Eddie and then back to her.

"Oh you are gross" Y/N laughed as she shoved Chrissy's shoulder.

"Oh come on! Give me some details. I tell you mine!" Chrissy begged

"Yeah and it makes me sick," Y/N said with a mocking smile. But she knew she'd give in.

"It is dirty but that's all I'm gonna say!" Y/N laughed, Chrissy fanned herself as she acted out.

"Next sleepover you are telling me everything!"

"One problem though," Y/N sighed, "I really like him"

"So? Ask him out" Chrissy shrugged, like it was the easiest thing to do.

"Ask who out?" Jason but in

Y/N rolled her eyes and kept her attention on Chrissy

"Trust me, I've thought about it. But what if he isn't interested? He doesn't look like the relationship type." She sighed and her eyes trailed over to Eddie once more. He laughed with Dustin, shaking the boy's body.

"You wanna date the freak?" Jason scoffed

"He's not a freak." She said annoyed. Already tired of giving him her time. "But yes, I wanna ask Eddie out."

"That's social suicide and might lead to actual suicide," Jason argued

"Jason shut it." Chrissy snapped

"You know what Jason? I should have blackened your other eye. Save you from having to watch this." Y/N snapped. She grabbed her backpack and walked straight over to Eddie's table.

"incoming!" Mike said as Y/N marched over to their table.

Eddie looked at Mike and followed his eyes. Eddie straightened in his chair and quickly fluffed his hair.

"You look good, don't worry," Dustin whispered as he patted Eddie's shoulder.

"Y/N?" Eddie asked once she made it over. He looked over her shoulder and saw her table staring at him

"Stand up," she demanded and he quickly obeyed

He stood up, very confused about what was happening

Then she wrapped her arms around his neck and smashed her lips on his. She didn't keep it little, she shoved her tongue down his throat and tangled her hands in his hair.

He felt his breath being taken away but made sure to kiss her back. His hands slipped down to her ass as he proudly groped her in the middle of the cafeteria.

The hellfire table stared at them with shock and amusement

Chrissy watched proudly

And the rest of the table watched with disgust

They pulled away, and Y/N smiled at Eddie's dazed face.

"Wanna go out, Munson? Try a real date?" Her arms were still hooked around his neck as she smiled

"Fuck yes" he breathed out as he caught his breath back

"Pick me up 7" she winked as she walked back to her table

Eddie blinked a thousand times, watching her walk away with her hips swaying.

"Dude! Nice!" Gareth cheered as he slammed his hands on Eddie's shoulders.

Did that really just happen?

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlx @ineedmentalhelp123

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #ashwhowrites #eddie munson x cheerleader #eddie munson x cheerleader!reader

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rcmclachlan · 2 days

Text

civil twilight (buck/tommy)

For @dadvans, who is a dirty enabler whenever I start having ideas and thoughts. Del, here are your damn bucktommy wedding vows, are you happy now?? 🩷

With a smile, Bobby looks out at the congregation—one hundred and fifty people squeezed onto the Ceremony Deck of the 1909, including what appears to be every first responder Buck has ever met—and announces, “I’m happy to say we’ve come to the part of the ceremony that Buck and Tommy have been looking forward to the most. They’ve prepared a little something for each other to be shared for the very first time today. What they say now will sanctify this moment now and forever.”

Excitement and anticipation chase each other under Buck’s skin like dogs, and he can’t help but bounce a little on his toes, which are pinched like hell in the shoes Maddie made him buy.

It took him almost a month to comb through the rolodex of his life—taking out cards from between color-coded dividers organized by year and studying each one to remind himself of exactly how he got to this point—to find the right words. He thought about them every second of every day. He filled his notes app to the point they made him pay for extra storage. He fought a five-alarm warehouse fire alongside almost twenty other companies and spent the entire time rearranging sentences in his head.

There were nights he lay curled against Tommy’s back and practiced for hours against the heat of his skin—soundlessly, of course, although with the way Tommy snores after a double shift it’s not like he would’ve been heard—until he was satisfied.

But the thought of Tommy doing the same makes Buck a little crazy. Did Tommy scribble half-baked thoughts on the back of a Pizzeria Sei receipt, or did he watch Love, Actually for the two hundredth time and take notes while Colin Firth gave a speech to a very confused town, or did he crowdsource ideas from the yahoos over at Harbor? Knowing Tommy, he just started spitballing at the horizon from a thousand feet above the city and got it on the first try.

Buck’s been vibrating in place for months thinking about this exact moment, and now that it’s finally here he’s going to explode all over all their guests before he even gets to say “I do.”

“Buck? Tommy?” Bobby’s voice is warm, like he knows exactly how much oxygen is feeding the fire in Evan’s belly. “Take each other’s hands and hold on tight.”

Before Bobby’s even finished talking, Tommy’s already stepping forward and reaching for Buck, which is good because Buck’s already reaching for him, too. Their hands come together with the ease of automatic doors in a department store, sliding to meet like they were made for nothing else. Their fingers tangle and lock, and Buck is thrilled to find neither of their palms are sweaty. Tommy’s smiling so hard his nose looks like it’s about to scrunch its way into his hairline, and Buck’s moved so close he’s practically stepping on Tommy’s feet. They meet in a very narrow middle.

“Buck."

He closes his eyes and presses his lips together to keep the fireworks in his belly from erupting out of his mouth and incinerating the entire canopy. From where he's standing behind Buck, Eddie taps him twice on the shoulder with his fist as if to say, we were all forced to listen to you talk about this for half a year; you've got this, but also don't screw it up.

“You’re up first.”

Drawing in a trembling breath, Buck reaches deep down into the little gilded space where he’s been keeping the words safe all this time. He holds them for a moment, traces the familiar edges of them, and hopes every person on the deck right now is going to be able to hear him. He wants them to know.

Tommy squeezes his hand gently, and Buck looks at him, at the shape of his smile that Buck could draw with his eyes closed. It's suddenly so easy to open his mouth.

"My first real memory is of going with Maddie to the park down the street from our house so we could watch the sunset. I sat on a swing and stared at the sky until it got dark, and even then I couldn't tear my eyes away. Maddie said it looked like I was searching for something."

Like every other time Buck's brought up some random story from when he was a dumbass kid, Tommy's lips roll inward. The first time it happened, he thought Tommy was trying not to laugh at him and he wanted to crawl under a rock like a bug to escape the threat of being completely crushed. But then Tommy admitted to being so charmed by Buck's story that he had to hide the sheer goofiness of his smile so Buck didn't think he was a total psycho. It's true. When Tommy lets that particular brand of smile out, he looks like a serial killer, so whenever Buck sees the inward lip roll, he knows he's one spate of cute aggression away from being turned into a human coat rack. It's awesome.

"It wasn't until I started writing this and looked back on my life that I realized how often I did it. No matter where I was, who I was with, or what I was doing, I'd end the day with my eyes on the sky. It sort of felt like something was going to come swooping out of the clouds just for me and I didn't want to miss it when it did. I didn't really think about it until after the first time I met you, because I didn't have a chance to look at the sky that night—you took me straight there instead. I haven't come back down since."

The tail end of the sentence grows soft and tight, and his eyes grow wet and hot. Which isn't a surprise. He hasn't made it through a single practice run of this part without his taps going on. He clears his throat and squeezes Tommy's hands tightly, reassured by the strength of them, in the firmness of the grip.

Mortified and elated, he blinks so the tears fall. Tommy sucks in a breath, then distangles his left hand from Evan's right so he can reach up to thumb them away.

"Turns out Maddie was right," he says, smiling wide and pressing into the touch. "I didn't know it, but all that time I was searching for you."

Tommy presses his lips together, but it isn't to hide a smile—it's to hide the way his mouth is trembling and he's doing a shit job of it. Buck chokes a little on a wet laugh. His chest feels sweetly sore, like a pressing on a bruise.

"That was beautiful," Bobby says. He's looking at Buck in the way that always makes him wonder at just how incredible his life would've been if he'd been Buck's dad from the get go. Which is probably a mean thing to do right now, considering his actual father is sitting in the second row, but if Bobby weren't officiating the ceremony he'd be sitting in the first, and that really says everything.

Beaming, Bobby turns to Tommy and inclines his head. "Your turn, Tommy."

Anticipation sings in Buck's chest, and when Tommy meets his gaze, his eyes bright and clear like an autumn sky over the San Bernardino mountains, it lights the fuse on a whole new batch of fireworks under his skin. He inhales shakily and gives him what he hopes is an encouraging smile.

Tommy's expression evens out, but sweetness still lurks at the corner of his mouth.

"Evan."

Buck's eyes flutter a little. It's amazing to think he used to hate the sound of that name. When Tommy says it, it feels like sunlight.

"I spent most of my life afraid," Tommy begins. His voice is steady. "I grew up thinking I was made wrong, and I cut off pieces of myself to try and fit in where I thought I was supposed to belong. I tried finding peace in the sky, but all that emptiness did was remind me of how alone I was."

Heart pounding, Buck squeezes Tommy's hands so tightly he thinks they might meld together.

"You know, I owe the 118 a lot. They helped me become a better teammate, a better friend… a better person. But there's no way I can ever repay them for how they changed me by bringing you into my life."

After all the time he spent thinking about Tommy simply writing his vows, it somehow never registered that he would actually have to say them out loud. In front of all their family and friends. That he'd be cracking open his chest and showing what's inside to the whole world as proof of his devotion. That he'd willingly do it for Buck simply because he loves him and wants to love him for the rest of their lives.

"Evan, from the moment I met you, you've shown me what it is to be brave. You've taught me how there's courage in loving with your whole heart and living your entire truth."

There is no way in hell he's going to be able to stand here and listen to this without gnawing on the deck railing or launching himself at Tommy to put his mouth on his bare skin. How do people do this without being charged with a misdemeanor?

"You found the pieces of me I thought were gone forever and put them back together differently. Better. You helped me make someone who isn't afraid of anything. I know we tease you about going The Full Buck, but because of you, because I know you're next to me ready to face anything that comes—" His voice breaks. "—I'm brave enough to go The Full Tommy."

Buck can barely see him through the tears that won't stop welling and falling, and if they were anywhere else, he'd wrap himself around Tommy like a snake and squeeze him until the storm passed, but because he's bound by dumb things like decorum and obscenity laws, Buck can only keep hold of his hands and try to transfer every ounce of love and comfort in his body to Tommy's by way of their tangled fingers.

Then, suddenly, a shit-eating grin splits the gentle and earnest expression on Tommy's face, and he feels a bit like a bird right before it's sucked into a jet engine. Warning bells go off in the back of Buck's mind.

"Evan," Tommy says, with the gravity of someone about to drop an atomic bomb, "you are the best ally I could've ever asked for."

The ugly, snotty laugh that punches its way out of Buck would earn him the respect of even the grubbiest of Jee-Yun's daycare friends, and he finally throws decorum out the window so he can step forward and bury his face in Tommy's shoulder. Between his tears and the spit he's horking from laughter, the suit fabric is definitely ruined.

"I love you so much," he wheezes. "I'd maim a thousand best friends for you."

He can't see Eddie's face, but he knows exactly what it's doing and it only makes him laugh harder. Tommy presses one of his high, incredulous laughs into Buck's hair, followed by a firm kiss to the crown of his head.

"What do you say?" Tommy pulls back a little, but he looks so proud of himself. He looks proud. "Should we finish getting married or what?"

Buck sticks the tip of his tongue between his teeth teasingly. "Or what?"

"Or I go home and order pizza," Chim pipes up from the front row to a smattering of laughter. On his left, Hen drops her face into her hands, but her shoulders are shaking. On his right, Maddie smacks him on the arm like she's mortified, but she's grinning too hard to really sell it. It looks like she's crying just as hard as Buck is.

"All right, all right," Bobby says, ever the voice of calm and reason, but he's very clearly fighting laughter, too. "Why don't we finish this up?"

"You ever get tired of herding cats, Cap?" Eddie asks, a grin in his voice.

"Never," Bobby says. He lifts his brows pointedly at Buck. "Are you ready?"

Buck turns back to Tommy, and in the curve of his smile he sees the same glowing possibility that he's seen in ten thousand different sunsets, and his entire body clenches with the exhilarating and terrifying feeling of something's coming for me and I can't miss it.

Heart pounding, he grins and holds his hands out again. They're immediately enfolded into Tommy's, like there was never a question about where they should go.

He glances up through the canopy to glimpse the pockmarks of blue between the trees, but there's nothing coming for him. When he looks back down and meets Tommy's gaze, that hungry anticipation settles into warm fullness. He can call off the search; it's finally here.

Buck smiles wide enough to encompass the sky. "I've been ready, Cap. Let's do this."

Now on AO3

#bucktommy #tevan #kinley #911 fic #911 abc #wedding fic baybeeeeeee

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turcott3 · 3 days

Text

the set up

cole caufield x fem! reader

warnings?: alcohol, cursing, kissing, smut, unprotected sex, public sex

masterlist

“truth.” you spoke aloud. you were at emma’s bachelorette party, one day before the rehearsal and you were all drunk playing truth or dare like teenagers.

“i know you have a crush on one of the players, who is it?” she asks inquisitively.

“well i’ve always had a little crush on caufield.” you reply with a shrug and a light smile on your face.

“oh really?” emma giggles.

“yeah, i mean he’s just so happy all the time and he’s really handsome, how could i not like him?” you reply taking another sip of your drink.

“i mean yall would be cute honestly.” she continues, texting someone quickly on her phone.

“who ya texting?” steph asks her next to you.

“just brendan, making sure he’s not blackout drunk, you know.” she laughs, knowing the boys were also having their party today.

“oh also, i’ll have your bridesmaid and groomsmen pairings done in the morning.” emma speaks up shutting her phone off. the rest of the night was spent partying, thinking in the back of your mind that you had just admitted your crush on cole to your best friend.

“hello?” you groaned into the phone, a call from emma waking you up.

“did you see my text?”

“no i just woke up, i need ibuprofen before i stare at a bright screen.” you laugh lightly.

“oh did i wake you? i’m so sorry.”

“no no it’s fine, i needed to get up, ill read it in a sec.” you reply.

“okay thanks, see you in a few hours y/n!” she says.

“bye love.” you reply, ending the call and getting up, digging for your pills. you popped two before opening your phone back up to read her text. as you ran across your name you almost choked on your drink.

“cole?” you question starkly, eventually leading to a sigh.

“of course i’m with him.” you groan, now feeling pressure to look flawless to maybe impress him. you knew that you’d found him attractive for a while but you had zero clue how he felt toward you.

after many hours of getting ready and making sure your rehearsal dress was perfectly wrinkle-less, you finally were able to leave your hotel room and make your way to the rehearsal venue.

“y/n!” emma yells as you step through the door, running up to hug you.

“hope you enjoy your pairing, yall two are sitting over there for dinner.” she winks pulling away.

“you’re stressing me girl.” you laugh nervously, sitting at the small two top table by yourself. much to your demise, you didn’t get much time to prepare as cole walked into the room a mere 5 minutes later, finding his way to his seat.

“how’ve you been? i haven’t seen you in a while.” cole asks smiling.

“oh i’ve been great, how about you?” you ask, picking at your manicure.

“better now that i’m here.” he replies, turning to face the couple as they were about to speak, a blush creeping onto your cheeks.

“hey guys so, before we get to eating dinner i just wanted to go over like the order of how everything’s gonna go just so we’re all prepared for tomorrow. and i won’t be mad that it’s not perfect, it’s not supposed to be. but if we don’t have any fun whatsoever, then we’ve failed our mission of being ‘the gallaghers’ so let’s hope we can do that at least.” emma spoke loudly amongst the room. she spoke for a few minutes just running through the order of how everyone is gonna walk out, you and cole being the third “couple”.

“and one last thing, i’m not making you guys sit at separate tables, i sat you with your pairing just because i didn’t like how it looked on the seating chart so, basically you’re attached at the hip all night. sorry.” she laughs, you knew she was particular in not wanting the wedding to be old school and formal.

“you think you got that all down?” you ask, trying to make it seem like you weren’t anxious, and it was starting to work. your nerves were beginning to ease as your anxiety seemed to remember that cole wouldn’t hurt a fly.

“i think i do. and we’re about to practice so that’ll be the test.”

“i’m nervous for tomorrow though.”

“whys that?” he asks, taking a bite of the plate that was sat in front of him.

“what if i like trip on my dress or like sneeze. i’m just scared ill ruin it.” you admit.

“it’ll be fine, you’re just over thinking it.” he replies and you nod knowing he’s right.

“that reception is gonna make it worth it though.” you giggle.

“oh absolutely, that’s gonna be the best part.” he replies

“and you’ll dance with me right?” he asks, with a hopeful smile on his face.

“oh um,” you pause finishing the sip you were about to take, “yeah of course i will.”

“great, i was hoping you would.”

you’d spent a vast majority of the night getting to know cole, which you loved doing. he’s an easy going guy who’s very sweet and respectful, which you adored. you went to bed tonight pondering on what the day would bring the two of you. you could feel the flirting between the two of you all evening.

the next morning, you woke up feeling refreshed. you went over the details of the wedding in your head over and over until you didn’t miss a word. you grabbed onto your garment and makeup bag and fled the room, rushing to be by your best friends side as she got ready for her big day.

“so you nervous?” you ask.

“girl no, i already know im saying yes.” she laughs as she sits in the chair being dolled up by her make up artist.

“oh that’s good.” you replied unpacking your things beginning to get yourself ready with the girls. the time came quickly. it seemed like minutes passed by between the time you finished your hair to the time you were stood with the guy you’ve had a crush on for a year.

“you okay? you’re fidgety.” cole asks quietly.

“oh uh, yeah i’m okay. just nervous.” you say, his hand then softly rubbing up and down your back.

“don’t be nervous, you’re gonna be great. if you trip ill catch you. i’m here.” he replies reassuringly as you flash him a weak smile.

“thank you.”

“of course, and you look beautiful by the way.” he says before locking arms with you, prepared to walk down the aisle. you made it down without any trips and appreciated cole going the extra mile to help you up a couple of stairs. you all stood on your respective sides, admiring the couple between you, sharing occasional glances with cole from across the altar. selfishly, you couldn’t stop thinking about him and how kind he was to you just moments prior.

the reception started about 30 minutes ago and you’re already 3 wine glasses deep with cole. you’d been dancing for a while and finally made your way back to the table, still littered with the others. you both had grown to be decently drunk and were getting touchy with cole, which is something you wouldn’t DARE to have done about 45 minutes ago.

“cole is need to pee, will you come with me and hold my dress?” you ask, sporting proud puppy dog eyes.

“yes, come on.” he replies standing up reaching his hand out to you, you found your way to the, luckily, single stall restroom. you locked the door quickly and turn to face him.

“i actually don’t have to pee.”

“i know.”

“you do?”

“yes, you’ve been making it obvious.” he giggles.

“what do you mean obvio-“ you start and are cut off by his lips harshly on yours, but in a way you enjoy. it was a quick change in environment, the fun had subsided and all you wanted to know was how he felt buried deep inside you. you felt yourself grow wet at his hands grazing down your back and onto your ass. his lips trailed to your neck, nipping and sucking on the skin before returning back to your lips after a long moment.

“i don’t wanna ruin your make u-“ he starts.

“shut up and fuck me caufield.” you reply interrupting him, a skill you’d both acquired in the last two minutes. cutting him off. a look of shock briefly flashes across his face before a smirk takes over.

“are you sure?” he asks, his hands placed on your waist.

“what do you mean? did you not hear me?”

“no i mean are you sure you wanna do it here?”

“yes, i want you right fucking now cole, and maybe again later when you’re staying in my room with me.” you reply and he smirks, turning you around and bending you over the sink. he assists you in pulling the short train on youryour long skirt over your ass, pushing your soaked lace thong to the side.

“so wet already?” he asks dragging a quick finger through your soaked core.

“mhm.” you reply biting your lip. you looked down at his pants in the mirror as he quickly unbuttoned his dress pants, rubbing himself hard very quickly. you bit your lip as you watched him line his hard cock up with your entrance.

“nuh uh, eyes up here.” he says using his hand to push your chin back up, locking eyes with him as he ran his leaning tip through your wet folds.

“cole we have to be fast.” you complain, as if you weren’t enjoying the teasing. a sigh of relief left your mouth as he buried himself deep inside you, his tip brushing your g-spot instantly, your eyes rolling back.

“oh fuck.” you whimper, realizing you are in a very public place and have to make sure you keep your voice down. you mentally acknowledge the fact that you have no choice but to be fast in this moment, wanting to get the job done quickly. in thinking, you fucked yourself back onto him, colliding in the middle.

“god fuck-“ he grunts, placing his hands firmly on your ass cheeks, thrusting quickly, letting the fabric of your dress muffle the sound of your skin clapping.

“you’re so tight y/n.” he says, almost speeding up his already decent pace.

“oh my god cole, that’s it right there.” you whisper, tears forming in your eyes as you collapsed further over the sink. gently, he wrapped his arm around your chest pulling you up, deepening the angle of his thrusts, hitting your g-spot right on the head with each thrust.

“fucking god, i’m gonna cum.” you whine, a tear slipping from your eye.

“come on baby, cum for me. i will too yeah?” he asks with eyebrows raised in the mirror and you nod as the knot unravels in your stomach, shockwaves shooting through your body rapidly as he filled you to the brim with his milky climax, fucking you all the way through both of your highs.

“i can’t believe we just did that.” you sighed out, catching your breath.

“me either.” he chuckles behind you, pulling out slowly.

“oh fuck, here, stay right there.” he says observing the mess he made between your legs. he grabs a few sheets of toilet paper, carefully wiping you clean, tossing them in the toilet and pulling your panties back over your core.

“my eyes.” you groan looking in the mirror.

“let me see.” he replies and you turn around. he licks his fingers to fix the smudges under your eyes and around your lips, dabbing the sweat off your forehead with a paper towel.

“do i look okay?” you ask, pulling the dress back down.

“just as gorgeous as before.” he replies, readjusting his pants, making sure everything’s in straight.

“okay you ready?” he asks holding onto the door knob.

“wait hold on, can i ask you something?”

“yeah of course.”

“will you come stay with me tonight? like in my room?” you ask boldly, the buzz beginning to wear off.

“if that’s okay, yes of course i will.”

“it’s more then okay.” you smile lightly, wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing a firm kiss to his lips.

“good, then i can fuck you right.” he mumbles on your lips, kissing you again.

“woah fuck y/n i’m sorry.” he says as you pull away.

“what what’s wrong?” you reply nervously and he turns you by your hips to the mirror, using his hand to turn your head to the side, exposing the dark hickey he left on your neck.

“honestly, it’s fine, really.”

“are you sure?”

“yes cole it’s fine, and besides you’ll be littered in them tomorrow morning.” you wink, kissing him one last time as you turn the doorknob. he grabs your short dress train of the floor, carrying it as you walked out of the bathroom. you hear a chuckle a few feet away from you, realizing nick was standing there and definitely watched the two of you enter the bathroom.

“emma!” you shout as cole lets go of your dress, taking your hand as you jogged over toward her.

“we’ve been looking for you.” emma replies with a smirk on her face.

“oh uh, i just had to go to the bathroom and there was a line.”

“yep mhm, a line.” she laughs, turning your chin to the side, high fiving her husband.

“what?” you ask.

“bitch, what do you mean what? yall just fucked in true bathroom at my wedding and now you’re holding hands. oh brendan we have outdone ourselves.”

“what?”

“girl, i put you with him so that THIS would happen. nick was our spy, great help.”

“you wanted us to fuck at your we-“

“well that isn’t EXACTLY what we had in mind, i was thinking like a kiss during a slow dance on the floor but this? this is fucking gold.” she laughs hugging you, as you stood confused as ever.

“so this was a set up?” you scoff.

“well, yes.” brendon pokes in.

“thanks gally.” cole laughs, a soft hand wrapping around your hip.

“now yall go have fun.” emma says waving the two of you off.

“what a night.” you sigh, collapsing into your bed, cole right beside you.

“yes for real, we really got set up.”

“i’m not mad about it.” you reply.

“me either, i’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while.”

“why didn’t you, i’ve had a crush on you for like a year.” you laugh.

“yeah well, now we fucked in a bathroom at a wedding, i’d say that is quite the stride.” he smiles widely at you.

“i’m fucking exhausted. i would totally love to stay up and fuck all night but i feel like maybe we should sleep it off and then maybeeeeeeee fuck all morning?” you giggle.

“whatever you want baby.” he smiles, his thumb grazing over your cheek lightly, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips

“god you make it so hard not to just wanna fuck you like a damn bunny right fucking now.” you say and he busts out laughing.

“let’s go to sleep, come on love.” he says tucking the two of you under the covers.

“we can fuck like bunnies in the morning okay?”

“okay.” you pout, poking your bottom lip out.

“goodnight pretty girl.” he says softly.

“good night pretty boy.” you smile as he presses a light kiss to your nose.

#cole caufield #cole caufield imagine #cole caufield smut #cole caufield x reader #montreal canadiens #nhl #nhl imagine #turcs’ talk

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wheredidhiseyebrowsgo · 2 days

Note

Hi there! Thank you so much for your amazing blog. Really appreciate the time you put into this.

Do you know of any sterek fics where Scott is a bad friend and he does not get redeemed? He faces some real consequences for his choices?

Thanks so much!

I think so, @riverwood87!

Thunderstorms & Polish Lullabies by Whispering_Merely

(1/1 I 10,057 I Teen)

Boyd is there, hovering over his claws, Isaac looks devastated, Jennifer looks bewildered and concerned and horrified, Kali looks smug, the twins are carefully keeping their faces blank but they're playing along, and- Gods, he's really going to be forced to do this, isn't he? Pack, his Pack, the make-shift family he'd all but accidentally gathered is going to die by his hand, and even if it's forced, it'll still be his fault, for wanting them, for needing them, for biting them.

Loving them.

He wants to close his eyes but he owes Boyd more than that.

And then, abruptly, in this saturated technicolor still-picture moment of chaos and violence- the eye of the storm- the door to the loft crashes open. With the water and the metal and the force of it, the sound is almost guttural, and far too loud- even Kali seems startled.

[Or, the one where Stiles time-travels just in time to save Boyd and Derek from the Alphas, and manages to heal everyone, including himself, just a little in the process.]

Stop Crossing Oceans by greenleaf

(1/1 I 11,654 I Mature)

“There are no absolutes, Scott! No hard rights or hard wrongs! The world doesn’t fucking work that way and we can’t afford to think like that, because people are going to die! We signed up for that the moment we got involved with all this!”

“We? We?” Scott hisses. “Don’t you think you? Don’t forget that you’re the one who dragged us into that forest the night it all started, Stiles. So if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s yours.”

Something inside Stiles cracks, so strong and so deep that he practically hears it.

Bring my heart to heel by Heyokaooohshiny

(30/? I 126,991 I Explicit)

Derek Hale leaves Stiles bereft after a one-night stand. After exposing his heart to the older man, someone he trusted intrinsically to at least remain friends, Stiles finds himself unintentionally abandoned by the last person with which he had any hope. With nothing left to lose Stiles uses the cover of a school trip to run away from the pack. He finds out soon after that Derek left him with more than just painful memories. He meets a witch who becomes a much needed friend.

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #scott is a bad friend

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wangxianficfinder · 2 days

Text

Fic Finder

June 10th

~*~

1. Hiya, please help me find this fic! Lan Zhan is the king/emperor and has to choose a consort/empress. There is a bridal selection held and I know Mianmian was one of the candidates. They do a series of challenges and Lan Zhan basically tricks Wei Wuxian into completing them/qualifying. At one point, the candidates have to go through this maze, and Wei Wuxian gets 'kidnapped' and dumped in the maze and finds his way out really fast out into a hall where everyone is just like 'how the hell did he get in there and come out so fast?' and Lan Zhan uses that to show the council/elders that Wei Wuxian is a perfectly acceptable choice while WWX is just confused as always. Thank you! @iuocean

FOUND? The Imperial Jewel by Serinah (E, 39k, WangXian, Emperor and his concubine, Dubious Consent,bExtreme at first, gets better, A/B/O, omega wwx,bAlpha LWJ, Concubine WWX, Emperor LWJ, Oblivious Wwx, wwx's pov, Mutual Pining, Angst and Feels, Deviates From Canon, WWX has a golden core, but still practices dark arts, WWX exchanges his life for the Wens’, other differences, UST, S/D, undrenegotiated kink, Orgasm Denial, Multiple Orgasms,bOther kinks, WWX likes spanking, Smut and Feels, fucking while pining, noncon, for the beginning of the first scene, It Gets Better, starts smutty, gets plotty, ends lovely, Feels, Power Imbalance, Public Sex)

~*~

2. Hi there! Im not sure if I have already asked this or if I dreamt it but I have been looking for one specific ff for almost three years now. It's on ao3 and the only plot points I remember were that it was a modern au, wangxian were friends, something happened to wwx and the decided to go on a little impulsive roadtrip (Iwj phoned his brother and said "I am eloping with wei ying" which was funny but he was so serious deep inside) and then they found out they have been in love all along and get together.

Another thing I remember is that the author put a lot of songs into the fic for the roadtrip and I have all the song names;

the brummies - lovers do

give my heart a little break - summer salt

I don't wanna be okay without you - charlie burg

honeymoon - the shadowboxers

You'd think with all the songs I could have found it by now but I can't seem to win. If you can find anything please please I will sell my firstborn :) that fic was comfort like you can't believe @mdzshemel

FOUND? 🔒 and i think it's going to be a long, long time by belovedmuerto (T, 39k, WangXian, Road Trips, Modern, There Was Only One Bed, Slow Burn, Getting Together, Pining, Weddings, sibling relationships)

~*~

3. hi, fic finder request! i know that it was a royalty au where lxc was the king and jgy was married to him, but from there my memory is vague... i seem to recall a scene (that may or may not have involved a mirror?) where jgy is using dark magic and eventually lxc and the rest of the lan family and kingdom find out the jgy is evil. jgy was using the dark magic to poison someone, either lxc or himself (?) TYSM for helping!!

FOUND? the lotus in between by whiteskyland (Not Rated, 22k, LXC/JC, LXC/JGY, WangXian, WIP, Angst, Whump, JC Needs a Hug, A/B/O, Alpha LXC, Omega JC, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Arranged Marriage, Royalty, Hurt/Comfort, Omega JGY, JC Has No Golden Core)

~*~

4. Hello! I'm I'm desperate to find a Wangxian fic with a Modern AU where JC wants to adopt a dog, and they recommend WWX to see a therapist or work at a veterinarian (I don't remember well) and that's where LWJ comes in. But supposedly he has a dark secret that he can't tell WWX, the thing is that I don't remember if it's a werewolf AU or something else like that. I honestly don't know if it's still on ao3, but I'll keep looking for it and I thought it was worth it to ask here if anyone remembers or knows this fic.

Maybe you'll have better luck that me, anyway thanks for listening to my ramblings!!!

~*~

5. Hi! I’m looking for a fic that takes place in the cloud recesses era. When WWX is supposed to be punished, instead of copying the rules in the library, both WWX and LWJ teach the younger Lan disciples sword forms and fighting. During this time they bond and start a relationship.

I just remember a scene where they are putting away the wooden swords and they lock themselves in the shed (?) and start making out? (I think??).

Thanks! @estathom

FOUND? 💖 Magical Marriage Ribbons Series by starandrea (Varies, 1m, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Accidental Marriage, Fluff, Happy Ending, Telepathic bond, Kink Negotiation, Family Drama, Magical Pregnancy, Dual Cultivation, Shapeshifters, Modern with Magic, Immortality, Yilling Wei Sect, podfic) one of the magical marriage ribbon series, closer to the beginning // the second work

~*~

6. I am looking for a canon-era fic where Wuxian was the son of Lan Qiren and Cangse Sanren. Neither Wuxian or Lan Qiren know this, as they both presume Wei Changze was Wuxian’s father. They learn the truth during the Cloud Recesses study arc when the class learns a talisman that writes out family trees. Qiren demands to take Wuxian from Lotus Pier and continue raising and teaching him in the Lan.

~*~

7. hello! i'm trying to find a modern au wangxian fic where wwx is living with the wens and lwj is a performance artist coming to the (local) yiling gallery, and they meet again while lwj is doing his exhibition (he's like. running a booth where he just stares into the other person's eyes for like 10 minutes). it's on the shorter side - i want to say it's 3 chapters? @grillanarchy

FOUND! when you say nothing at all by sysrae (T, 5k, WangXian, Modern, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, artist LWJ, tattoo artist WWX, past angst, Getting Together, emotionally significant art installations, Soulmates)

~*~

8. Hello.

I'm sorry for asking at the you are off. But it's been bugging my mind. I've read these fic before but i forgot the title and where i read it.

Do you know a fic its m/m where lan zhan and wei ying married and wei ying had a miscarriage so both of them go to somewhere and ended in a village. They lived in there for a while until wei ying got pregnant again and decided to go back to gusu?

And one fic where wei ying is pregnant and had been followed by the lan juniors while lan zhan gone to somewhere?

Please help me. @rottenapple116

FOUND! Sky, Cloud and Lotus by Xantya24 (M, 219k, WangXian, JC/LXC, LJY/LSZ/JL, WIP, Mpreg, A/B/O, Everyone Lives, Certain characters are dead as canon, Family Fluff, Angst, Sad with a Happy Ending, Miscarriage, Bullying, Graphic Description, Isolation, Dreams and Nightmares, Things can get fucked up)

~*~

9. Hello! I'm searching for a fic where wei ying is actually the son of wen ruohan and cangse sanren. I only remember the part where wen ruohan visited lotus pier and saw wei ying being whipped to death by yu ziyuan and him being absolutely livid. I think wen xu was also there, he was really nice and showed wei ying the wen's market(?). thank you!!

FOUND? Scars of Lightning by The_peregrine_falcon (T, 6k, YZY & WWX, WWX & WRH, WangXian, YZY's A+ Parenting, Canon Divergence, Not Canon Compliant, Wen WWX, zidian, YZY is a bitch, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Injury, Major Character Injury, Heavy Angst, Lotus Pier, Nightless City, Young WWX, Muteness, Hurt kind of comfort) Though he's not WRH blood son but adopted son in it. WRH does see him get attacked by YZY though, somewhere in the middle of the fic

FOUND? The Littlest Sun by Kuroishuuha (T, 23k, WWX is a Wen, Wen Wuxian, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alternate Universe, Good Parent WRH, Not YZY Friendly, Medical Inaccuracies, Family Fluff, Good Brother WX) It has WWX as WRH child and a shopping scene with WX.

~*~

10. Hello I was suggested to seek help here to find fics that I have been trying to find for a really really long time. I hope you could help me with them.

A. The fic was set post canon where Lan Wangji seemed to have lost his memory of WWX and Wei Wuxian tries to help him get his memory back. This seems to be a common premise but what resonated me about the fic was that there was a use of a song to cure the memory loss and the song required lots of energy and thus Wei Wuxian had decided to play the song in parts and Wangxian navigate around eachother as LWJ slowly gets his memory back in snippets.

B. This one is set in post canon as well but this focuses much more on the relationship of Wei Wuxian with Lan Sizhui and Jin Ling. In this fic it seems that Wei Wuxian tends to favour Lan Sizhui above anyone else and thus Jin Ling gets jealous at this prospect. I don't remember many finer details of the story besides these.

10A)

FOUND? #10a sounds like "an effect (without a cause)" by astrobandit. It is no longer on Ao3. i have a pdf copy from the wayback machine if anyone needs it. ~the-marathon-continues-nip

10B)

FOUND? Not Yet (There As Needed) by sunrise_and_death (T, 13k, LSZ & WWX, JL & WWX, JL & LSZ, WangXian, Post-Canon, Family Feels, Family Bonding, POV LSZ, This Fic Has Everything, even more yearning, WWX & LSZ figuring out wtf their relationship is, Dramatic Revelations, JL being the contrary lil bean he is, all the juniors thinking WWX is the greatest thing to ever happen to them, and in case you missed it yearning)

~*~

11. Hiiiii. Im looking for a fic where wei ying is either a tiger or wolf and he gets stuck in that form for awhile. I just remember he goes missing for awhile and lwj is looking for him - i think they are engaged or married then. Lwj finds him with sl and xxc. I think he gets stuck in that form after fighting wc or wzl or wx and he goes around trying to get a glimpse of someone in white or hes looking for lwj's scent?

Sorry its so vague 🙈 but thats all i remember

FOUND? 🔒 Unstoppable by Netrixie (T, 150k, WangXian, LXC & WWX, Canon Divergence, Eventual Happy Ending, Unreliable Narrator, Slow Burn, Minor Original Character(s), Cloud Recesses, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Angst, Wolf-shifter WWX, Resolved Sexual Tension, Resolved Romantic Tension, Fix-It, Werewolf, Shapeshifters, Sunshot Campaign, Translation Available, Russian, Canonical Lan arm strength)

FOUND? The Tiger has Destroyed his Cage by updatebug (G, 54k, WangXian, JFM/YZY, Shapeshifters, Fix-it fic, Most people live, and the ones who don't were aholes anyway, Animal Pelts, Tiger WWX, Found Family, adopted famil, yYungmeng Siblings, LWJ is very confused, You can tell from his face, Canon appropriate angst and violence, Gratuitous OCs, If canon will not give me women I will make them, Jiang Sect) For the sake of propriety, since it's been a while since I last read either Tiger vers or Beast of Gusu, imma drop The Tiger Has Destroyed Its Cage for 11 as well sincd Beast of Gusu is already recced, and OP technically mentions both (and I /think/ the one op wants is Tiger verse rather than Beast of Gusu)

~*~

12. Hiii

Thank you so much for all your hard work 💜

Can you please find me a fic where Lan Zhan and Wei Ying meet in a game. I think Wei Ying's avatar and Wen Chao's avatar were married and then Wen Chao divorced Wei ying's character and lan zhan offers a marriage proposal.

Then they meet and gradually fall in love in real life too

I think Hualian comes up in the fic where Hua Cheng is the owner of the company which created the game .

🩵🩵🩵🩵

FOUND? Dreams of Cultivation by mortuus_lingua (M, 97k, WangXian, LXC/JC, SL/XXC, HC & XL, Gaming, Wuxia, Nonbinary Character, Queer Themes, LWJ Uses Actual Words, Nonbinary NHS, Nonbinary XXC, BAMF WQ, Modern, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Oblivious WWX, Protective JC, Cinnamon Roll WN, Developing Relationship)

~*~

13. Hii! Im currently looking for a fic on ao3, about wwx crossdressing and faking being lwj wife. I dont remember if it was post ressurection or not, and i think wen qing might have been involved in the lie? But i could be wrong. There were two moments that i remember, that when wwx tells the truth to Lan qiren he reveals he already knew and that wwx fakes fainting at some point to shame someone over a rude remark.

FOUND? My Leaves Reach Ever for the Sun by nonplussed (T, 26k, WangXian, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fix-It, Crossdressing, Idiots in Love, Sharing a Bed, Canon Divergence, Happy Ending, Mutual Pining, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies) if he's just pretending to have married LWJ

FOUND? The Amazing Adventures Of Jiang Xiaolian And Family by bumbledees (T, 71k, WangXian, JYL/JZX, JC/WN, Mild to Moderate Pining, lotus pier siblings quietly also have a penchant for chaos, WWX will make LQR like him whether the old man likes it or not, WWX just wants to have fun and not be killed and also to go to his sister's wedding, Mutual Pining, WWX is more stubborn than a boulder and twice as dense, Everybody Lives, nobody who matters anyways, except for WN, you're an angel and we're delighted you're here, WangXian canon is sad bitch let's get you some fun, "WWX fools the entire cultivation world", "and kicks up drama in front of their salad", testimonial from reader Vapid_Girl and a good summary of this fic, warnings for sexual harassment due to JGS, and for the canonical behavior of the jin clan ie war crimes, forced labor, human trafficking, etc., hello naughty jin cultivators it's revenge time :), jiang "rolling gay crisis" wanyin, wen "deserved better" qionglin, yunmeng bros feelings, copious use of bad language grace à JC, my oddball collection of headcanons concerning fierce corpses, WN has a playful streak, anyone friends with WWX has to have one on some level, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, extremely brief mention of something approaching a conversion camp but it's just two sentences, Happy Ending, Let JC Experience Happiness, WN is technically undead in this so uhhh warning for that, he's far more like a vampire than a zombie honestly, so JC gets his own YA supernatural romance novel basically, at least WN doesn't sparkle????, Crack Taken Mostly Seriously, like many of WWX's best ideas it starts as a joke!, purposeful baby aquisition, WWX when will you learn that there are consequences to your actions) if the marriage actually happens. // 100% sure that 13 is The Amazing Adventures of Jiang Xiaolian, I just finished reading that and it fits perfectly. // WWX pretends to faint in chapter 6 and LQR reveals he figured it out (and threw a teapot against the wall when he did so) in chapter 19.

~*~

14. Hi! I'm looking for a fic that was funny I think, LWJ goes into the past, don't remember if it'd on purpose or not, it's the first night they meet, and instead of repeating the rules, he flirts with WWX and WWX can't handle it and I remember specifically LWJ thinking now I see why WWX teases, this is fun. And he says something along the lines of I won't tell anyone if you give me a kiss, and apparently LXC was there because they next day he says he didn't realize his brother was so smooth.

I've searched and searched (and got lost in new fics), if you guys are able to find it, that would be amazing!

~*~

15. Thank you all for this glorious blog. I have a fic finder request. For a solid 3 months I have been trying to find it but alas. It's wangxian, f/f, on ao3. I think it's arranged marriage. Wangxian are married in any case but lwj isn't interested in anything but sex while wwx is very much in love with lwj. At some point, just as wwx starts thinking lwj might be softening toward her, she finds out that lwj is to have a concubine, Mianmian who lwj is old friends with. So wwx starts pulling away to give lwj opportunity to be with MM and is just very miserable.

I don't know for sure if wwx goes for a visit to Lotus Pier and that's where it happens or if she's holing up somewhere in Cloud Recesses, but Lwj goes to her and apologizes and they talk it through and there is a happy ending.

I BELIEVE it's 3 chapters but it could be 5. Anyway it's SO GOOD and I'm aching to reread it. @trulywicked

~*~

16. Hi, its my first time asking for a fic but i remember a jiang cheng centered fic which was about if jiang cheng found out bout the golden core transfer earlier. In that, wuxian doesnt die nor do the remanents and i was just wondering if you can find it because i cant remember what the name was. Thank you in advance^-^

FOUND? Rewrite the stars by Moonlit_dewdrops (T, 70k, JC & JYL & WWX, WangXian, JC/WQ, JYL & MM & WQ, Angst with a Happy Ending, Protective JC, yunmeng sibling love, Canon Divergence, Lives get saved, Yunmeng sibling bonding,bHurt/Comfort, Protective JYL, Golden Core Reveal, JYL & JZX Live, Fix-It, fuck JGS, JZN too, no one tolerating jin sect's bullshit, Found Family, JC GETS TO BE HAPPY AND IS MARRIED, JYL & WQ & MM GET TO BE SWORN SISTERS, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, just a bit, WWX has PTSD due to Burial Mounds, Very protective younger bro vibes, soft JC, Family Feels, Healing, Not Everyone Dies, Twin Prides of Yunmeng Feels, WWX will get a New Golden Core, justice for the wen remnants)

~*~

17. Hii, absolutely love your page. Have come across such great fics here. I am actually looking a for a Wangxian fanfic which I think was CQL post-canon. I remember just this part where LWJ & WWX were going to get married and like just one day before their marriage (by the way all the guests and sects are there at Cloud Recesses), someone releases a dog/wolf yao or something similar and WWX gets like critically injured trying to project Sizhui. I remember really loving the fic but I can’t seem to find it anywhere:( Would really appreciate it if you could perhaps find it <3<3

FOUND? The Boy with the Sunshine Smile by Witch_Nova221 (T, 153k, WangXian, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Post-Canon, Romance, Domestic Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Parenthood, Growing Up) the injury+aftermath are chapters 22 & 23

~*~

18. Looking for a fic where WWX made these like talisman things that stored memories are smth like that and then he dies and when he comes back his memories/past were shown to the cultivation world through those talismen and everyone is like “he’s a good guy!” and JC and LWJ tag along with WWX

~*~

19. I'm looking for a wangxian fic :D I believe it was a characters-watching-their-series or watching-a-character's memories kind of fic, but where it was shown in songs. I specifically remember the characters watching married wangxian to the song Dandelions by Ruth B, and I think WWX's parents may have been there as well, so potentially there was a little bit of time magicky stuff too? Thank you for your help! @shieldherostuffs

FOUND? Mo Dao Zu Shi: The Musical by Loveable_Psychopath (Not Rated, 117k, WIP, WangXian, Time Travel, Fix-it, Song Fic, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking) The song is in the last chapter

~*~

20. Hi! Can you help me find a fic? It's a (sort of) time travel fix-it where the Lans (LWJ and LQR are the ones i remember the most) are nice to WWX and it confuses him a lot. I remember a scene where WWX was asking about the "energy is energy" thing, expecting to get kicked out of the class by LQR, but he gets his answer calmly(?) and confused on why some of the Lans look like they're nostalgic from what he just said

FOUND? Cluster of Clouds by Nika_Raven_Celeste (T, 20k, WangXian, LWJ & WWX, LQR & WWX, JC & WWX, WIP, Time Travel, The Lans from Post Canon Time Traveled to Cloud Recesses Study Era, ALL The Lans from Post Canon, The Lans ADORES WWX, Confused WWX, Soft LQR, Soft LWJ , LWJ CAN communicate, Not JC Friendly , not YZY Friendly, Genius WWX, Horny LWJ, but he still has some restraints, Oblivious WWX)

~*~

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic finder #wangxian fic search #the untamed #wangxianficfinder #long post

100 notes · View notes

janeyseymour · 6 hours

Text

longing looks and stolen glances

summary: anon asked for this: Hi, idk if you're still taking requests but could you write something where Mel finds out R like her back and then they're all silly and sneaking around, stealing kisses, glances and a brush of fingers every chance they get, like absolute fluff? And then the other teachers start to notice how smug Mel looks, specifically around R? I love your fics!!

WC: ~2.15k

There was no way this way happening- and yet it was. The Melissa Schemmenti has you pressed up against your desk and is kissing you hungrily. It takes a second for your brain to jumpstart before your arms snake around her waist and pull her in closer to you. Her lingering perfume scent nearly has you in a trance. The way that she only pulls you even closer to her own body is… how is this where you are right now? This has to be some sort of dream.

But it isn’t. When you finally pull back in desperate need of air, red hair and green eyes are still right in front of you. Almost as if you’re expecting to be woken up from your dream, you pinch yourself. You squeak a bit, and that deep laugh that you’re always craving to hear echoes throughout the empty room.

“Think you’re dreaming or something?” your colleagues deep voice chuckles out.

You just nod, a blush creeping into your cheeks. “I didn’t think… is this real life?”

“It very much is,” Melissa rolls her eyes playfully. “I’ve had enough of that one camera man flirting with you.” She gives him a pointed look, as if to say, ‘Back off. She’s mine now.’

He nearly cowers.

You just laugh and pull her in again. “So… dinner?”

And that’s how the two of you started dating. After a brief meeting with the camera crew, they’re sworn to secrecy on your relationship. A threat that all of their equipment will somehow go missing and the documentary will no longer be a thing is enough for them to all promise the two of you that they won’t air any explicit evidence that the two of you are together.

“I don’t even want lingering looks,” Melissa states.

The camera man shakes his head at that. “Then maybe the two of you shouldn’t constantly be ogling each other. We’ve picked up on this for weeks, and Jeremiah flirting with Y/N was only a tactic to get the two of you to get your heads out of your asses. If this worked with the two of you… we’re wondering if it might do anything to finally get Gregory and Janine to face the truth of their relationship.”

“Jeremiah wasn’t really flirting with me?” you sound almost wounded. A light smack to your shoulder has you feigning hurt.

“Listen, Y/N,” the camera man laughs. “As beautiful as you are, you are not my type at all. And, I really don’t want the shit to get kicked out of me by your woman.”

As if to prove a point, your girlfriend wraps an arm around you and practically growls out a, “Mine,” before kissing your temple.

And so, your relationship stays a secret. Your girlfriend does everything she can to keep your relationship in this little bubble that the two of you have created. There isn’t any flirting (any flirting that could easily be detected by your friends and coworkers), you keep everything behind closed doors.

There are lingering kisses in the classroom when you’re positive that no cameras are around. You still sit with her and Barbara at lunch and at meetings so as not to throw off the groove that you’ve found yourself in. Sometimes, you’ll feel a feather light touch or a squeeze of the hand when Ava says something particularly ridiculous, but you’re able to keep your face straight, and no one is the wiser to these intimate moments that the two of you secretly share.

But as time goes on, it’s getting harder and harder to conceal the bond that the two of you have. At this point, you’re getting ready to move your things into her apartment permanently (as if you haven’t practically been living with her for months- you have a drawer of your things at her place), the two of you are often together after work and on weekends, and you’ve even been to a few of her family dinners.

“You bringing over a few more boxes tonight?” your girlfriend asks you as you enter the staff room. It alarms you that she would bring this up so casually, but then you realize that she is the only one at the school besides you.

You nod brightly and kiss her quickly, as if someone would walk in on you at any given moment.

“I was planning on it,” you chuckle. Then you pull away from her, although her fingers stay gently interlaced with yours. “Coffee?”

She nods enthusiastically and begins to pluck the mugs from their place. You let yourself watch her figure for a few seconds before you hear the door swing open and Jacob announce his entrance. Your eyes immediately flit down to the coffee grounds in your hand, and your body turns red at the thought that you might have just been caught staring at the second grade teacher’s ass. Thankfully though, you were not caught.

“Ooh!” Jacob grins at the sight of Melissa reaching for coffee cups. “Deal me in!”

You scoop a few more grinds out and dump them into the coffee machine before filling it with water and waiting for the warm drink to be ready. Meanwhile, Melissa fixes her cup so the cream and sugar are already in her cup, and she does the same for you.

You give her a sweet smile when she hands over your cup, and your heart can’t help but flutter when she squeezes your hip gently while Jacob is turned away.

She can’t help the smug grin off her face when the social studies teacher turns back around.

“Hey, why’d you do Y/N’s cup, but not mine?” Jacob whines, almost like a child.

“Because Y/N ain’t particular about hers the way that you are.” Green eyes are rolled. There is no truth in that statement whatsoever. You are extremely particular about how your coffee is prepared, but after many mornings of coffee shared between the two of you Melissa has learned.

Jacob continues to pout, but he does nod along. It’s funny the way that he’s so wrapped up in his pouting that he misses the way you kiss her cheek and thank her softly.

The rest of the crew starts to trickle in, so you and your girlfriend take up your seats to watch the news together. At home, she almost always has her arm draped around the back of the couch, and you lean into her figure as you practically inhale the liquid gold that you need in order to function. But here? She still has her arm draped over the edge of the couch, but you don’t lean into her. Sure, you sit next to her, but you don’t let yourself relax into her. Instead, she quietly draws circles and different patterns on your shoulder as you and your friends watch the news. It’s warm and familiar, and something that you aren’t entirely expecting her to do with your colleagues so close, but you let that smile wash over your face. Her smug grin only brightens when she truly realizes everybody is so wrapped up in the news that they fail to notice.

While things have begun to become more relaxed with the two of you out in public, you still haven’t outwardly said anything about the relationship between the two of you. It’s like if you speak it into existence, the bubble will pop. So, you continue to just do things a bit more subdued with the crew around.

The two of you know that whenever you’re at the school, there is pretty much a guarantee that you’re being filmed in one way or another- except for in the safe haven of the bathrooms. So often, you and Melissa sneak away to the staff bathrooms to steal a few kisses or discuss plans for after work.

But to everyone else, you’re just two peas in a pod- the way that you have been. You still sit together and lunch, in the morning, at staff meetings… have your classes do a few things together throughout the year.

Or at least… that’s what you think. The two of you think that you’re hiding this relationship wonderfully. Honestly, at this point, neither of you would care if they were to find out. It’s kind of become common knowledge outside of work that the two are you together, so you both forget to come out to your work friends entirely. You just know that even if you were out at work, the looks and touches would still be relatively rare- keep things as professional as possible.

The truth is, the others have begun to pick up on things. They’ve noticed that you’re almost always following Melissa around with the look of a puppy dog. They’ve taken into consideration that she always fixes your coffee mug- no one else’s, not even Barb’s. They see the way that instead of directing looks that would normally be shot to the camera are instead stolen glances between the two of you. They aren’t as dense as they’re playing to be- there is something going on between the two of you.

And Barbara Howard is going to get to the bottom of it.

There is one day specifically, during professional development, where the two of you are practically glued to each other- and unbeknownst to them, it’s been exactly six months since the two of you started dating.

The longing looks, the little squeezes here and there, it’s all so… domestic. Even just sitting in the library as Ava drones on about only God knows what, the two of you are like giggling school girls, making excuses to touch and look at each other.

And then when you’re all excused for the afternoon to work on whatever you have to do in your classrooms, Melissa is guiding you out with a tender hand on the small of your back. You instinctively reach behind you and give her hand a light squeeze of endearment.

Of course, the two of you cozy up in her classroom, fully ready to finish up on some grading that you’re behind on. Fingers are interlocked as you grade and she types on her computer with one hand while Barbara rounds up the rest of the group.

“You all have noticed that Y/N and Melissa are quite cozy together, yes?” the kindergarten teacher asks her friends as they take their lunch break.

“Someone jealous their work wife is taken with the newbie?” Mr. Johnson asks.

“Not jealous,” Barbara sighs. “Just… curious. I think the two of them are hiding something from us.”

The camera crew all glance around. They wouldn’t interfere- not unless they wanted their cameras to go missing. So instead, they just pull each of the staff members out to interview them separately.

And together, everyone is convinced that the redheaded teacher and you are up to something- that there’s something going on between the two of you.

Mr. Johnson flat out tells the camera crew that he knows you’re dating. That he watched you kiss Melissa as you were heading out of her classroom one day.

So, with that, the crew decides to push this storyline a bit- they still aren’t outwardly telling your colleagues of the relationship, but just… implying that maybe this is something they should investigate further.

And they do. Nothing comes out that day, but the rest of your friend group is on high alert when the two of you are around. They continue to play dumb, to not notice the little lingering looks, the touches, the way that Melissa couldn’t be more smug when she’s around you.

They pretend as if they couldn’t be clued in at all until one day, a few months later, Barbara has had enough. You and Melissa are sharing lunch, and her hand rests gently on your upper thigh as you converse about your mornings.

“For God’s sake, ladies,” Barbara finally explodes. “Can we stop ignoring the obvious?!”

“Barb, what?” you flinch slightly at her tone. You feel Melissa pull her hand away.

“The two of you!” the kindergarten teacher exclaims. “I can’t take any more pretending that we don’t all know that you’re together! So, out with it!”

Melissa’s face turns red as she looks to you. “Babe?”

“Babe?!” Jacob screeches. “You two are at the point of calling each other ‘babe’?!”

Realization dawns on your face. You never told your work friends. It had become so… normal that you just forgot to tell your coworkers that the two of you were together. “We- we never told you guys.”

“No, you most certainly did not!” Barbara states. “So, admit it! The two of you are seeing each other romantically!”

You look sheepishly at the redhead, as if asking for permission for your next move. At her nod, you hold up your left hand. “Not only are we together… we got engaged last night.”

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo

#melissa schemmenti fanfic #abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary fanfic #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fanfiction

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jasmineoolongtea · 14 hours

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― like a rockstar ✧₊⁺

― the ways in which they're like as your rockstar boyfriends

contents: gojo x f!reader, geto x f!reader, choso x f!reader (reader wears a skirt), kinda suggestive tone for them, nicknames are used (baby & love), headcanons/brief drabbles a/n: title is based on like a rockstar by chase atlantic (chase atlantic my loves <333), might do more characters/scenarios with this concept if you guys like it/have any ideas for it, any likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated as always ♡

thinking about rockstar bf!gojo satoru who always dedicates his sets to you. it's kinda become a tradition for him to start off with a public declaration to you to his crowds of eager fans cheering and chanting his name with all their might.

"this one goes out to my girl out there in the crowd." he says with a devilish smirk, his cerulean eyes landing on you with calculated precision. thousands of eyes follow his outstretched finger that's pointing to you, most of them probably burning with jealousy from his fangirls, but you could care less about them when all you're focused on is him.

basking in the bright glow of the spotlights, there's no other way to say this except for the fact that he looks devastatingly handsome in his white tee and silver necklace with your initial on it and how it clings onto the ripples and reflexes of his toned body. you have a matching one, of course, a shiny letter 's' that clings to your neck, he gifted it to you before going on stage a few shows ago. "now everyone can tell we're just for each other." he remarks against your lips before crashing his into yours.

you wave at him shyly and blow a kiss in his direction, one he catches with ease before swinging the electric guitar strap around his neck. he sends a nod to his bandmates, signalling for them to start before taking centre stage again as he leans into the microphone.

"all these songs are just for you, baby."

thinking about rockstar bf!geto suguru who insists on getting a kiss from you before he goes on stage. "it's a good luck charm love, trust me." he asserts, taking your hands in his with the cold silver of his rings making you shiver slightly.

you're wearing that lipstick that he likes, the dark red one that looks so good when it's smudged and ruined from his own lips. he brings his thumb up to your bottom lip, running it slowly across the satiny finish in the way that makes your breath stop momentarily.

"where do you want it sugu?" you'll ask, as you always do, fluttering your eyelashes innocently and looking up at him with your doe eyes.

"anywhere you want, love." he whispers in your ear, the smooth timbre of his voice sending tingles down your spine. there's a fire lit within you, and a mischievous grin graces your features.

that's how he ends up going on stage with red lipstick on his lips and on the side of his neck. rumours were definitely going to swirl around this but that was the least of his worries when he spots you off on the side, donning his leather jacket with pride.

now you two are matching and wearing something of the other, him with your lipstick boldly marking him as yours and you in his leather jacket that smells just like him. he doesn't tell anyone but for you, he pulls out all of his tricks in his set tonight.

thinking about rockstar bf!kamo choso who makes sure you get front-row seats to whatever he does. doesn't matter where or when, no matter how inconvenient it might be, for choso, when there's a will, there's a way.

you knew that about him but that doesn't mean you were expecting him to pull you onto his lap during one of the band's practice sessions when he saw that all the other seats were unavailable. you feebly try to push him off as you insist that you'll find another seat somewhere else, your cheeks heating up with slight embarrassment as you do.

"but baby, i need you close to me." he'll say as he pouts at you, his grip tightening around your waist as he nuzzles his face into your back. his bandmates don't even blink an eye at his antics, already used to how attached their drummer is whenever it comes to you.

you sigh to yourself, your hands cupping his cheeks as you look into his eyes, a lovesick expression painted on his face. "you promise me that this won't interrupt your practice?" you ask as you feel one of his hands leave your waist and absentmindedly start to wander up your thigh towards the edge of your skirt.

he nods fervently, pressing a chaste kiss against your lips as a sign of confirmation. you're sure that the only reason that he isn't diving into your lips like a starved man as he usually does is because he's not in the mood to have an audience, in the form of the rest of the band, for it. you readjust yourself on his lap, making sure that you're situated in a better position with your back flushed against his toned torso as he rests his chin upon your shoulder.

his breath is hot against your ear as he whispers to you. "i'll play even better 'cause you're here."

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chamomiletealeaf · 3 days

Text

Based on a True Event

So a few months ago my family went to Busch Gardens and I wanted to see the penguins before they closed so my family and I went back in but our tickets wouldn't scan. We got the tickets from my dad since he was working there. The people were super rude and wouldn't let my mom in and told her to go all the way to the back of the line and it took us forever to get in.

But imagine this with Simon, and he makes it all better.

Disclaimer: I'm not trying to hate on customer service workers. I am a customer service worker myself, this is just my experience with the Busch Gardens people lol.

Warnings: none :) just a bunch of fluffiness and Simon being in love with you.

You convinced Simon to take you to an amusement park you've been dying to go to. When he finally said yes you were ecstatic and couldn't wait to have fun with him in one of your favorite places.

"Si come on! Hurry before the line fills up!" You pull him along, wanting so badly to get into the park.

"Alright alright I'm coming." Simon grumbles, but he can't help but smile at your giddiness.

"They have penguins here! Can we go there first? Please? I want to see them so bad they're so cute!" You beamed up at him in the line to get into the park.

"Of course love whatever you want." He says with a smile.

You two were next in line to have your tickets scanned by the workers who looked like they'd rather be anywhere but there.

Not wanting to upset them further, you quietly held your phone out to scan the ticket.

Beep

The scanner makes a chiming noise and a big red "X" comes up on the reader.

"Ticket's no good." The worker says emotionless, not even looking up at you.

"What?" You ask panicking, looking at Simon for help.

"Here try mine." Simon says, stepping in front of you to scan his ticket.

Beep

The scanner dings again, but this time it was a happier tone and a green checkmark shows up.

"You're good, have a great day sir. You miss are gonna have to go to the back of the line and try again or leave. NEXT!" The worker says, and you raise your eyebrows in shock.

"Wait so he can go in but I can't? Can't you try again? Please we've been waiting all day to be here." You plead with the worker, sadness filling your eyes at the thought of not being able to see the cute little penguins you've been dying to see swim and waddle around.

"Sorry miss, you can try buying another ticket for another day or you can leave. You're holding up the line." The worker says, scanning other people's tickets and not looking at you.

Your eyes start to fill with tears of frustration and sadness knowing that Simon was going on deployment soon and you don't know when else you would be able to do this with him again. You look up at Simon looking devastated and he can't take it.

That's when he steps in.

The worker senses his presence and looks up at him. Simon crosses his arms and looks down at him, intimidating the guy so much that he actually makes eye contact with you two for the first time.

"Listen mate, the missus here has been waiting ages to get in here, and I'm never one to leave my woman unsatisfied. So you're either gonna let her in with me, or I'm gonna have to find a way to get her in myself." Simon stares down at the smaller man, who is now showing a fearful expression instead of a bored and uninterested one upon seeing Simon's scars and tattoos let alone his towering size.

And without another word the worker opens the turnstile and rushes you two through.

"Have a nice day you two!" He says, as if he wasn't shitting his pants right now at Simon's threat.

"Yeah that's what I thought." Simon grumbles under his breath.

You jump with joy and kiss Simon's cheek.

"Yay! Thank you honey!" You chime. "Let's see the penguins!" You say, practically pulling Simon's arm off rushing him along.

"Ok sweetheart I'm coming." He laughs.

"That was really hot." You say, leaning into his arm.

"What was?" He asks with a smirk, wanting to hear you say it.

"Sticking up for me. You're hot when you're all big and scary." You say with a giggle.

"Well of course, like I said, I'm never one to leave my missus unsatisfied. In any way." He whispers into your ear with a smirk while he squeezes your waist and you blush at his innuendo.

Then you spot the penguins and you squeal with excitement.

"Simon look! the babies!"

You run up to the tank to admire the little penguins. They were African penguins. Small and cute.

"Oh Simon, look at their little waddles! How cute are they!" You coo at the penguins watching as they waddle and swim around in their tank.

"Funny little blokes aren't they." Simon says, but he's not looking at the penguins.

Simon is watching you.

Simon stands next to you and admires your joy and how much you glow when you're happy like this. It's something he lives for. It's why he risks his life out on the battlefield every deployment. So you can have a fulfilling life. Everything Simon does is for you, and he can sleep better at night knowing that even though he's murdered, even though he's done heinous things, you will always be the one good thing that keeps him from falling into the darkness.

As Simon gets lost in his thoughts and love for you, a penguin waddles it's way up to you behind the glass.

"Simon! baby get a picture! Look at this little sweetie!" You say, and he snaps out of his thoughts to pull his phone out to snap a picture of you and the penguin.

The penguin flaps his wings playfully and you lean down to it's level and turn your head, making a kissy face pretending to give the penguin a kiss on the head.

Simon takes the picture and immediately makes it his lock screen and home screen.

You walk up to him to see the photo and smile.

"It's perfect! He's the cutest, sweetest little baby isn't he?" You ask and Simon just nods and smiles, thinking that you're actually sweetest thing.

Then, a penguin waddles out with a feather pattern that looks like it's wearing an eye mask. The penguin was white with black splotches of feathers on his body, but it's head was black, with a white mask around the eyes.

You notice it, and you gasp.

"Simon! It's you!" You excitedly exclaim and tap his arm getting him to look.

"It's a Ghost penguin!" You say, and he laughs out loud at that.

"Oh baby c'mon you gotta take a picture with it. Please? For me? It'll be so cute!" You plead, and how can Simon resist your glittering eyes and the crinkle in your nose from your smile.

"Ok ok. Just one picture though." And he walks up to the tank to pose with the penguin and you snap a picture, immediately sending it to Johnny and making it your lockscreen and homescreen as well.

Simon comes back to your side and you show him the picture, which earns another laugh out of him.

"Thank you honey." You tell Simon.

"For what?" He asks.

"For doing this for me. For being the best boyfriend in the world. For showing me what real love is like." You say with a smile, and Simon looks down at you.

Simon isn't one for PDA, but there was something about you in this moment that he couldn't resist kissing you right there in front of the penguins and all those around the exhibit.

"You're welcome my love." Simon whispers and smiles against your forehead after breaking the kiss.

You two spent the rest of the day walking around the park, forcing Simon to go on rides with you, and occasionally passing the penguins again where Simon buys you a little stuffed penguin that you named "Ghost", after the penguin that looked like Simon with his mask in the exhibit.

And that night, you two fell asleep in each other's arms with little penguin Ghost between you, exhausted from the long day of walking and fun, knowing that tomorrow you would both awaken in the morning seeing the one thing you both live to see:

And that's each other.

#call of duty #cod #cod mw #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost #ghost cod x reader #ghost call of duty #ghost call of duty x reader

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fanficapologist · 2 days

Text

Of Dragons and Maelstroms

Themes and Warnings: slow burn, enemies to lovers, blood, violence, explicit language, sexual violence, period-typical misogyny, sexual themes, smut, tension, marriage, jealousy, pregnancy, childbirth, miscarriage, attempted sexual assault, breastfeeding, major character death, divergent timelines

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

Chapter Eighty-Three

“You cannot come to Dragonstone.”

Once Maera made her decision, Aemond attempted to dissuade her, his voice urgent and commanding. She, however, swiftly adjourned the meeting, cutting him off and allowing the councilmen to scurry away, their relief evident as they hastened from the room. Maera left shortly after, maintaining a resolute silence. Aemond followed her down the corridor, his shouts echoing through the imposing halls of Harrenhal, his frustration and desperation mounting with each step she took.

Reaching her chambers, Maera shut the door firmly behind her. The heavy wood made a decisive thud, but it did not deter the Prince. Moments later, Aemond stormed into her rooms, his anger palpable. He had not ventured into her private quarters since the night he returned from Rook's Rest, and his presence now was a stark intrusion into her sanctuary.

Determined to proceed with her plans, Maera rang the bell. Two servants quickly appeared, their eyes wide with curiosity and concern. One began to pack her belongings, moving swiftly around the room, while the other started to braid Maera’s hair at the dressing table.

“Did you hear me? I forbid it.” Aemond watched her in the reflection of the mirror, his fury momentarily giving way to helplessness as he saw the preparations unfold before him. Maera remained resolute, her eyes fixed on the mirror as her hair was braided, ignoring his attempts to sway her.

“So I should sit here like a sitting duck and wait for Daemon to- what was it he said again?” She asked sarcastically, feigning confusion as she tried to recall Prince Daemon’s old threat. “Ah, yes, carve the babe from my belly.”

The young maid continued to braid Maera’s long brown hair despite the tension in the room, skillfully intertwining the single silver streak that ran through the strands. Meanwhile, the other servant laid out Maera’s riding clothes: a set of black leather attire with gold trim and a loose skirt to accommodate her large bump. The outfit was completed with knee-high leather boots, meticulously polished and ready for the journey ahead.

Aemond clenched his fists, shaking his head at her comment. “You think you are not putting our child at risk by going there?”

“Better a quick death now than a lifetime of wondering when the Blacks will come for both of us,” Maera muttered angrily in response, her hands gripping the edge of the dressing table.

Aemond scoffed. “You are not thinking clearly.”

“I?!” Maera shouted, waiting for the maid to finish securing her hair with some gold string before standing from the dressing table. She moved swiftly to the wooden screen, her movements sharp with anger. “You receive a letter from your uncle mocking you and without hesitation run towards the end of his sword?” She questioned harshly, beginning to pull at the laces of her loosely fitted black gown. The fabric slipped from her shoulders and pooled at her feet. The maid assisted Maera in stepping into her skirts and then put on her boots, carefully lacing them up to ensure a secure fit.

“He is a seasoned warrior whose fought many great battles. Not just practice with Ser Criston in the fucking courtyard,” Maera called out from behind the screen, her voice echoing in the room as the maid helped her into her leather coat before lacing it up at the front.

“You lack faith in me,” Aemond muttered, his voice low and in a tone Maera could not help but find annoyingly pathetic.

“Damn right!” she screeched back, stepping out from behind the screen and stomping towards him, her forest green eyes blazing with fury. “You prove time and time again that my child and I are not your priority. That we are below duty and pride and whatever fucking make-believe prophecies you choose to indulge in.”

Aemond remained outwardly stoic, his expression carefully composed, yet Maera could see the simmering anger beneath the surface. His eye flickered with barely contained rage, a silent testament to the battle of wills between them.

Maera turned away from him, moving to her bed where the servant had laid out her weapons. She strapped her old sword to her belt, its familiar weight providing a slight comfort. But something felt amiss. She paused, her mind racing through her usual preparations. Then she remembered the dagger that was no longer with her. Her hand instinctively went to her belt, where her dagger had once sat. The memory of Alys attempting to kill her with it, and Ēbrion’s flame reducing it to molten metal, surged through her mind, stoking her anger further.

Aemond followed her, his footsteps heavy as he stopped just behind her, close enough for her to feel the heat radiating from his tall, lean form. “I am doing this for you, Maera!” he exclaimed, which caused his wife to merely roll her eyes with a huff.

Unhappy with her reaction, Aemond grabbed her roughly by the shoulders, spinning her around to face him. His fingers dug into her skin, his grip both commanding and desperate. For a moment, they stared at each other, their eyes locked in a silent, furious exchange. Then, one of his hands gently dropped to her gigantic stomach, rubbing it in a loving manner. “For our child, for our life together!”

The child within her kicked against his touch, as if recognizing its father, which irked Maera. She was trying to stay angry at him, to hold on to the fury that had been fueling her actions.

As she felt her resolve softening with the movement of her child, Maera placed her hands on Aemond’s chest and shoved him back with all her strength. There was a flash of hurt in his eye as he stumbled backwards, but it was quickly replaced by frustration. Maera’s heart ached, but she knew she had to stand firm.

“You’re doing this for yourself!” Maera snarled. She tore her gaze away from him, fixing on a point on the cold stone floor. She knew this path was fraught with danger, yet Aemond wished to tread it anyway, regardless of the consequences for anyone left behind. The thought weighed heavily on her, a blend of frustration and fear gnawing at her resolve. “What should happen to us if you die, hmm? Have you even considered that?”she asked meekly, nervously picking at the leather sleeve of her coat, her fingers tracing the intricate patterns along the trim, still avoiding her husband’s gaze.

“Mayhaps it would finally make you happy,” he replied, his voice lacking its usual sarcasm and instead carrying a note of sincerity. “For you to be rid of me and all the horror I have brought upon you. And your family.”

Aemond hesitantly stepped forward, closing the distance between them, but he did not touch her. He was close enough that Maera could feel his breath on her face, causing the fine hairs on her neck to stand on end. The proximity was both comforting and maddening, a stark reminder of the bond they shared and the rift that had formed between them. “I am truly so, so sorry. For everything.”

Her heart pounded in her chest, a tumultuous mix of love, loss and anger warring within her. She paused, her eyes searching his face, looking for any sign of the boy she had grown up with. But it seemed like he was gone, consumed by the man before her.

“Grow up, Aemond,” she hissed, her voice filled with a mix of anger and sorrow, before storming out of the room, her skirts swishing angrily around her legs as she marched down the corridors of Harrenhall.

The castle was a hive of activity, servants scurrying to and fro, preparing for the Prince and Princess’s imminent departure. The clatter of armor and the hurried whispers of the staff filled the air, adding to the chaos. She heard the familiar quickening footsteps of Aemond hurrying after her once again. She breathed out a bitter laugh; she could not believe he was still trying to dissuade her. Did he truly not know her? Or did he assume she would simply bend to his will?

“You will not stop me from going,” Maera called angrily over her shoulder, making her way down the stairs as quickly as she could manage, her heart racing as the child in her belly moved around, causing her stomach to do flips.

Aemond’s footsteps echoed behind her, growing louder with each step. “You could not even mount Ēbrion a few weeks ago. You expect to endure a flight to Dragonstone? When you are due to give birth in a matter of weeks?!”

“Or die trying,” she shot back, reaching the bottom of the stairs and continuing her determined march toward the outskirts of the castle walls, where Ēbrion would be awaiting her.

The Prince muttered something under his breath before catching up to her again. “We will be leaving Harrenhall vulnerable. This fortress gives us an advantage over the Riverlands. We cannot simply abandon it.”

Maera rolled her eyes, her disbelief clear at her husband’s idiotic plan of leaving her behind once again, after everything that happened to her. If he wanted to hold Harrenhall, he could do it his damned self and not gallivant off to have a sword fight with his uncle. “Then by all means, my Prince, stay.”

As they reached the courtyard doors, Maera felt her husband’s hand clamp down on her right upper arm, forcing her to stop in her tracks. She spun around to face him, her eyes blazing with fury. His grip was firm, his expression a mix of desperation and frustration. She sighed, staring up at him defiantly. “Cole will be here in a few days anyway; he will hold it for the Greens.”

Aemond nodded with a sigh, a strange silence descending over them, the bustling activity of the castle fading into the background. Maera looked up at her husband, her emotions a tumultuous storm inside her. She felt anger and frustration at his stubbornness, a deep-seated sadness at the potential loss, and an overwhelming love that she could not shake despite everything he had done.

“We both could be killed,” the one-eyed prince proclaimed as his hand still gripped at her arm. The realization hit her like a blow to the chest: this could be the last time they would be together. If Daemon killed Aemond, it would not only leave her and their child in a precarious position, but it would also shatter her heart.

Maera gulped nervously but refused to show fear. “I know.” Despite all his faults and the pain he had caused her, Aemond was still her husband, the father of her child. Her childhood friend. And she loved him. As much as she wanted to stop, she couldn’t. It was as if they were joined by an invisible string, one that bound her to him irrevocably.

When Aemond reached up and cupped her cheek with his gloved hand, Maera almost melted at the surprisingly gentle touch. “I do not wish to go to the Stranger knowing you hate me,” he murmured, a touch of fear in his voice.

She fought internally against the feeling, trying to remain resolute. But if this truly was the last time they would be together alive, what harm would there be in surrendering one last time?

Standing on her tiptoes, Maera captured his lips in a kiss. It began softly, tentatively, their lips brushing against each other like a whisper of longing. But almost instantly, the kiss deepened, transforming into a desperate, passionate embrace. Aemond's hand slid from her cheek to the nape of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair, pulling her closer with a fervor that spoke volumes of his need. Maera's hands, initially resting on his chest, moved up to wrap around his neck, pulling him down to her level. Their bodies pressed tightly together, the heat between them rising, creating an electric atmosphere.

Their lips moved in sync, a dance of raw emotion and desire. Maera's lips parted, and Aemond's tongue swept inside, exploring with an intensity that left her breathless. His taste was intoxicating, a blend of longing and regret, anger and love. Aemond's arm encircled her waist, drawing her even closer, his grip firm yet tender, while his other hand remained at the back of her head, fingers tightening in her hair as if afraid she might vanish if he let go.

There was an urgency to it, a frantic need to hold onto this moment, to each other. Their tongues danced together, teasing and tasting, and Maera could feel Aemond's heart pounding against her chest, matching the frantic beat of her own. The kiss was a paradox, a blend of rough passion and gentle affection, an acknowledgment of their shared pain and an outpouring of all the words they could never find a way to say.

Finally, Maera pulled away, her breath coming in shallow gasps. For a moment, there was pure love in her gaze as she looked up at Aemond, her eyes reflecting the same intense emotion she saw in his. They stood there, suspended in time, caught between the past and the uncertain future.

But then, reality came crashing back. The memory of all that had brought them to this point resurfaced, and Maera remembered the actions of her husband that had led to this turmoil. She knew that the moment of tenderness couldn't erase the pain and betrayal that lay between them. It was a fleeting reprieve, a bittersweet memory that would stay with her, but it wouldn't change the path they were on.

She composed herself, the warmth in her eyes replaced by a steely determination. She frowned at Aemond, the lines of her face setting in defiance and frustration. “Don’t fucking die then.”

The ancient stone walls of the fortress, weathered by centuries, were blanketed in a thick layer of moss, creating a patchwork of green against the gray. The nearby trees, their trunks similarly adorned with moss, stood tall and steadfast, their branches forming a canopy that dappled the ground with soft, shifting light.

The once scorched lavender field, a casualty of past dragonfire, was now a symbol of rebirth. Green sprouting flowers covered the expanse, a fresh carpet of life where charred remnants once lay. Among the verdant growth, hints of purple blooms began to appear, promising a fragrant, blossoming future.

In the scene of renewal, the two mighty dragons shared a rare moment of tranquility. Ēbrion and Vhagar sat together, their massive forms dominating the landscape as they feasted on the carcass of a large animal. Despite their fearsome reputation and the vast power each held, they appeared to share the meal beautifully, a surprising harmony for once.

Ēbrion's scales shimmered with a dark, almost iridescent blue, each one edged with black, giving him a sleek and imposing appearance. His eyes, a vibrant orange, glowed with a fierce intelligence, scanning the surroundings even as he tore into the flesh of their prey. Vhagar, the older and more experienced dragon, was a sight to behold with her faded green and bronze scales, a testament to countless battles fought and won. Her scales, though weathered, retained a majestic sheen, and her glowing yellow eyes blazed with a mix of wisdom and raw power.

As Maera and Aemond approached their dragons, the enormous beasts lifted their heads, their eyes locking onto their riders. A soft, almost tender call came from each dragon, a sound that resonated with recognition and affection. Vhagar was the first to rise, her massive frame unfurling with a creaking of ancient bones and muscles. Ēbrion followed suit, his movements fluid and powerful, mirroring the youthful strength in his sleek, dark scales.

Upon reaching Ēbrion, Maera extended her hand to stroke his nose. The dragon's scales felt warm and smooth under her fingertips, and he responded with a gentle trill, a sound that reverberated through the air. The moment of calm was brief; Ēbrion's keen senses detected Aemond’s intense gaze on his rider. With a protective growl, Ēbrion warned the Prince to keep his distance.

In response, Vhagar, ever protective of her own rider, bared her formidable teeth and emitted a low, threatening growl. The air crackled with tension as the two dragons sized each other up.

“Lykirī, Vhagar.” Calm. Aemond quickly stepped forward, reaching up to stroke Vhagar’s face in an attempt to calm her. His touch and soothing words gradually eased the dragon's agitation, her growl subsiding into a rumbling purr.

Maera glanced up at Ēbrion, taking in his immense size. Standing beside him, she felt dwarfed by his towering presence. Her eyes traced the long ascent to the saddle perched high on his back, and her heart began to race with nervous anticipation. The climb was daunting, a reminder of the sheer scale of the beast she commanded and the challenges that lay ahead.

Her husband seemed to sense her apprehension. “Do you want me to-”

“I can do it myself,” she hissed in reply.

Steeling herself, Maera took a deep breath as she walked to the side of her dragon and prepared for the climb, her resolve firm despite the flutter of anxiety in her chest. She knew that once she was atop Ēbrion, the world would fall away, leaving only the boundless sky and the powerful connection between dragon and rider. Yet, in this moment, the ground beneath her feet felt both a tether and a comfort, anchoring her before the flight into the unknown.

Maera gripped the rope of the ladder in her right hand, testing its weight. She cast one last glance towards Aemond, torn between telling him to mind his own business and asking him to stay, just in case she fell. His presence, despite everything, was both a comfort and a burden.

Bracing herself, she placed her right foot onto the ladder. Taking a deep breath, she then stepped on with her left foot. Pain shot up her left leg, radiating from the healing stab wound. The sharp, agonizing sensation made her pause, but she resolved not to be defeated. Gritting her teeth, she grabbed onto the ladder with her left arm, the wound there burning with pain as she pulled herself up.

Maera gasped, the sound escaping despite her efforts to suppress it. She focused on the rhythm of climbing, refusing to let the pain dominate her thoughts. Each step was a battle, her body begging her to stop, but she pushed on with sheer willpower.

The excruciating pain was relentless. Her flesh felt like it was tearing apart with every movement. The memory of her dagger being plunged into her by Alys replayed in her mind, vivid and haunting. Maera bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, silencing her pained groans as she climbed higher and higher.

Every pull, every step, was a test of her endurance. The burning agony in her thigh and arm seemed insurmountable, yet she refused to let it conquer her. With a mixture of determination and desperation, Maera continued her ascent, each inch closer to the saddle feeling like a hard-won victory.

Ēbrion chirped anxiously to his rider, his wings beating in frustration as if he could feel Maera's pain. His concern was palpable, but Maera pushed on, each step a testament to her resolve. After what felt like an eternity, she finally reached the saddle.

With a great effort, she threw her leg over, collapsing into the seat. Her face was flushed and clammy with exhaustion. She prayed that she hadn't torn open the wounds on her arm and leg during the climb. As she looked outwards towards the horizon, seeing the mountain range of the Riverlands, she found herself caring less about the pain and more about the journey ahead.

The child within her belly kicked out, a reminder of the life she carried. Maera cast her eyes downwards and saw Aemond staring up at her. Though the distance made it impossible to see his expression clearly, she could just make out the upturn of his mouth.

As Aemond walked towards Vhagar, Maera secured herself to the saddle with chains and ropes. Despite her pain and the weight of the situation, she felt a nervous excitement building within her. It had been so long since she had flown with Ēbrion, and the prospect of soaring through the skies again was exhilarating. Moments later, Aemond appeared on Vhagar’s saddle, concentrating as he secured himself. Maera couldn't help but marvel at him, finding it difficult to believe that he was once the boy who never had a dragon. Now, he commanded the mightiest of them all.

The husband and wife exchanged a silent look. There was almost a plea or an uncertainty in Aemond’s single violet eye, as if he were asking Maera if she was sure she wanted to do this. His gaze held a mixture of concern and resignation, a silent communication that only they understood.

Maera huffed, grabbing onto the front of her saddle, signalling she was ready to go. She heard the Prince’s commanding voice in High Valyrian. Vhagar let out a bellowing roar in response, turning around. The massive dragon broke out into a run, her powerful wings flapping before she leapt into the air, soaring upwards with a grace that belied her immense size.

“Dohaerās, Ēbrion,” Serve me, the Princess called down to the beast below her. “Sōvēs.” Fly.

Ēbrion obeyed, turning around and preparing to take flight. The sudden movements sent sharp pain up Maera’s arm and leg, but she kept her body tight to protect herself from the jolts. Her dragon broke into a run, his giant blue and black wings flapping powerfully before he leapt into the air, following Vhagar into the skies. As they ascended, the pain faded into the background, replaced by the exhilarating rush of flight. The wind whipped past Maera, and for a moment, all her worries and fears were left on the ground below.

Even though the flight took a few hours, Maera found it exhilarating to be back in the air once again. The sense of freedom and power that came with riding Ēbrion was unlike anything else. The world stretched out beneath them, a breathtaking tapestry of nature's wonders.

They soared over rugged mountain ranges, their peaks dusted with the last remnants of snow. Dense forests sprawled across the land, their canopies a rich, vibrant green. Below, rivers wound through lush valleys, their waters shimmering in the sunlight. Occasionally, Maera spotted small villages and farmlands, the tiny figures of people going about their lives oblivious to the dragons soaring overhead.

Despite the looming uncertainty and danger awaiting her at Dragonstone, Maera relished the flight. The wind in her hair, the rhythmic beat of Ēbrion’s wings, and the expansive view filled her with a profound sense of peace. It was as if she were reclaiming a part of herself that had been lost amidst the chaos and trauma of what she had been through at Harrenhall, and had what led her to go there in the first place.

Maera knew she could meet her end once they landed, and yet the ride itself felt like a triumph. If this was to be her last journey, she thought, there was no better way to face it than in the sky, on the back of her dragon. The experience was a beautiful prelude to whatever fate awaited her on the ground, a final taste of the freedom and power that defined her as a dragonrider. As a Targaryen. As her mother’s daughter.

The sky was covered in a thick layer of clouds, their dense formation making it difficult to see. The sunlight struggled to pierce through, casting a grayish hue over everything. Despite the obscured view, Maera could make out Vhagar’s gigantic shadow moving through the clouds ahead.

Ēbrion chirped and clicked, his sounds cutting through the murky air as he communicated with Vhagar. The older dragon responded with a deep, resonant growl, acknowledging the presence of her younger counterpart, as if guiding him through the difficult flight path.

After a while, the landscape beneath them began to change. The lush greenery and mountainous terrain gradually gave way to the vast, dark expanse of the sea. The ground disappeared entirely, leaving only the endless stretch of water below. The sea’s surface was a dark, churning mass, its waves capped with frothy white. The horizon seemed to merge with the clouds above, creating a seamless blend of gray and blue.

Vhagar let out a screech, her wings tilting sharply as she began her descent. Ēbrion roared in response, his deep voice echoing through the clouds before he dipped to follow the older dragon.

The sudden drop caused Maera to clench her jaw, the force of the descent sending sharp pain shooting through the stab wounds on her upper left arm and left thigh. She gritted her teeth, fighting through the pain. Glancing east, she saw the clouds wrapping around the coast of mainland Westeros, a swirling mist that looked surreal from this height. It was strange to see the mist from so high up, like an ethereal blanket covering the land.

Ēbrion’s roar drew her attention forward, and as the clouds parted, the beautiful island of Dragonstone came into view. The island was shaped by volcanic activity, its dark, craggy terrain a stark contrast to the lush green of the mainland. The castle of Dragonstone was built as a fortress, with carved dragon heads adorning its walls, their mouths agape in silent roars.

The dragons circled the castle, their massive forms casting shadows over the ancient, weathered stones of Dragonstone. Vhagar led the way, her wings cutting through the mist as she descended toward the western beach. Ēbrion followed closely, his powerful wings beating rhythmically as they spiraled down. Below, the beach was a stretch of black sand, the waves crashing furiously against the shore. A thick mist shrouded the landscape, making it difficult to see clearly. The sea roared as it met the dark sand, creating a cacophony of sound that echoed in the wind.

As they drew nearer to the ground, Maera heard another roar—deep and resonant, but unfamiliar. It didn’t belong to Ēbrion or Vhagar. Her heart skipped a beat as she peered through the mist, trying to discern the source of the sound. There, outlined against the rocks, she could see the shapes of two other dragons.

Her breath caught in her throat as the mist began to part, revealing the dragons in clearer detail. These were not the dragons she had expected. Neither Caraxes, the blood wyrm of Daemon, nor Syrax, the golden dragon of Rhaenyra, stood before her. Instead, one dragon was bronze, its scales gleaming dully in the diffused light, and the other was silver, its body shimmering like moonlight. By their sides stood two figures, cloaked and waiting. Maera’s heart pounded as she tried to make sense of this unexpected sight. The unknown dragons and their mysterious riders sent a shiver down her spine.

Vhagar landed first, her massive claws digging into the black sand. Ēbrion followed, his landing sending a spray of sand into the air. Maera winced as the impact jarred her injuries, but she held her position, her eyes fixed on the two dragons and their riders. The bronze dragon let out a low, rumbling growl, while the silver dragon responded with a softer, more melodic sound.

Maera dismounted Ēbrion slowly, every movement sending ripples of tenderness through her body. She winced as her feet found the ladder, her muscles protesting after the long ride. When she reached the bottom, Aemond was already there, his expression a mix of concern and determination.

Putting her pride aside, Maera allowed her husband to help her down the last few steps. His strong grip steadied her, and for a brief moment, she found solace in his touch. However, as she tried to step forward, an incredible pain shot up her left leg, causing her to hiss and stumble backward.

Aemond turned sharply, his eye locking onto hers. They exchanged a look—his filled with worry, hers with stubborn resolve. Silently, he offered his arm. Maera hesitated, not wanting to appear weak, especially in front of the strangers. But the pain was too much to bear alone. She took his arm, gripping it tightly as they moved forward.

Together, they walked slowly towards the waiting figures. As they approached, the strangers lowered their hoods. The first man had pale hair, strikingly reminiscent of a Targaryen, his features sharp and regal. The second man was a stark contrast, built like a Titan, tall and wide, exuding a formidable presence.

The dragons behind them, bronze and silver, watched with keen eyes as the two parties closed the distance. The wind carried the tension between them, blending with the roar of the waves and the occasional growl of the dragons. Maera tightened her grip on Aemond’s arm, her resolve hardening despite the pain. The real challenge was about to begin.

“My Prince, Princess. Welcome to Dragonstone,” the pale-haired man said, a small smirk playing on his lips.

Maera glanced at Aemond, whose hand had instinctively moved to the hilt of his sword. “Where is my uncle?” the one-eyed prince demanded as Maera watched his sharp eye scan the beach, seeking any sign of his uncle. His expression grew more rigid, his brow furrowing and his lips pressing into a thin line.

When he looked towards the dragons on the rocks, they hissed in response, their deep, resonant growls met by warning grumbles from Vhagar and Ēbrion. The air grew tense, charged with the potential for violence. Aemond let out a dark chuckle. “Do not tell me he was all talk in his letter.”

The two strangers exchanged sinister smiles. “The King Consort is not here, Prince Aemond,” the larger stranger stated, shaking his head. “In truth, we are surprised you came. We thought you were meant to be the intelligent one of your brothers.”

Maera saw Aemond growing more agitated, his grip on the sword hilt tightening , his knuckles white with the effort. She’d had enough of these riddles. “Where is Daemon?” she asked sharply.

The pale-haired stranger laughed, stepping closer. “They ventured to King’s Landing.” He stepped right in front of Aemond, looking him up and down in a goading manner. “It seems Rhaenyra thought it was time to claim her rightful seat.”

The Princess gasped, her mind racing. Her father was in danger. What of Thena? Did she manage to get Maelor and Jaehaera out? And Helaena…?

Her swirling thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sharp sound of metal being unsheathed. Aemond pushed her lightly but firmly out of harm’s way as he drew his sword. The pale-haired stranger did the same, and in an instant, the two clashed, their blades meeting with a resounding clang.

Maera stumbled back, her heart pounding in her chest. She watched as Aemond, his face a mask of fierce determination and controlled fury, engaged his opponent with the precision and skill she knew so well. Each movement was calculated, a deadly dance of strength and strategy.

As the men clashed, Maera's gaze shifted to the other stranger, a massive man who seemed to be a descendant of a giant. He stood still, arms folded, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched the duel unfold, showing no intention of intervening. His presence was intimidating, a silent threat looming over the beach.

Maera's green eyes flickered from the giant to the dragons and then to the imposing fortress of Dragonstone. There had to be more to this situation; these men must hold significant importance if Rhaenyra had entrusted them with the island's defense.

In the blink of an eye, Aemond then tripped the pale-haired stranger, sending him sprawling to the ground. The silver dragon, sensing its rider's distress, growled and slithered down from its perch, its eyes locked onto Aemond with predatory intent. Maera's heart pounded in her chest as she watched in horror. The silver dragon's approach was swift and menacing, its growls deep and resonant. It was prepared to strike, to protect its rider at any cost.

"Aemond, stop!" Maera's voice broke through the tension, a desperate cry that echoed across the beach. The Prince, oblivious to the immediate danger, pounced and raised his blade to stab the fallen stranger in the face. The silver dragon quickened its pace, a feral snarl rumbling from deep within its chest.

The scene unfolded in slow motion for Maera. She could see the desperation and determination in Aemond’s eye, but also the looming, monstrous threat of the dragon. Her breath caught in her throat, horror gripping her as she realized the imminent peril her husband was in.

Maera clutched the top of her head, her fingers digging into the roots of her hair in frustration and fear. Closing her eyes, she screamed at the top of her voice. “I said that is enough!!”

Suddenly, behind Maera, Ēbrion charged forward, his roar echoing mightily across the beach. The powerful sound snapped Aemond out of his rage, his eye widening as he saw the silver dragon stalking toward him.

The silver beast growled at Aemond, its intentions clear. But before it could strike, Ēbrion unleashed a gigantic orange flame into the air, a blazing warning that illuminated the misty surroundings. The silver dragon hissed in response, the heat and force of the flame forcing it to reconsider. Reluctantly, it began to back away, its eyes still fixed on Aemond.

Aemond stood up from the ground, his breath coming in heavy, ragged gasps. He dropped his sword, the metallic clatter sharp against the dull roar of the waves. The pale-haired stranger, still on the ground, dropped his own sword and held up his hands in a gesture of surrender, his eyes wide with fear and realization.

The Prince walked over to Maera, his sharp features bright red, streaked with dirt and sweat from the fight. Maera frowned at him, her disappointment clear. She wished he had not acted with violence so swiftly, knowing that it only complicated their already precarious situation. The look they exchanged was laden with unspoken words, her eyes conveying both worry and disapproval.

Maera looked past Aemond’s shoulder at the strangers. The pale-haired man, now on his feet, stood once again by his giant companion, who remained unconcerned despite his ally spitting out blood. The giant man’s arms were still folded, and a smirk lingered on his lips.

As Maera observed them, she began to think. The bond between these strangers did not seem strong. If they were both truly loyal to Rhaenyra’s cause, they would have killed her and Aemond the moment they landed. They certainly had the means to do so with their dragons. Yet, they hadn’t. This realization sparked Maera’s curiosity; she needed to find out more.

Reaching up, Maera dusted some dirt off of Aemond’s shoulder, a surprising gesture that caused the Prince to initially flinch. “We have been bested, husband,” she announced loudly for the men to hear. “No matter how much we try to deny it.”

Aemond’s face turned thunderous at her comment but then she locked her green eyes with his, giving him a look that communicated volumes. Trust me, the look said. Keep your mouth shut, and let me handle this. Aemond's jaw tightened, but he nodded slightly, understanding the silent command. Maera turned back to the strangers, her mind racing with questions and strategies to uncover their true intentions.

The men of Westeros were all the same and Maera knew a little bit of charm and flattery could go a long way. As she approached them, she smiled warmly, tilting her head and rubbing her gigantic baby bump to appear less threatening. The gesture softened her demeanor, making her seem more approachable and harmless.

“Forgive me, my Lords, for I do not know your names.” The pale-haired man raised a brow at her words, but Maera simply smiled at him. “You must be highly trusted members of Rhaenyra’s council.”

The men exchanged a glance before the giant stranger let out a chuckle at her comment. “We are merely the commanders of her war machines, Princess. And we are not Lords, so there is no need for such formalities.”

The Princess nodded with a smile and then strangers could not help but appear more relaxed during the interaction. The pale-haired man, who had been tense and ready for a fight, visibly unwound, his shoulders dropping and his expression easing into one of cautious curiosity. He exchanged a glance with his giant companion, who allowed a slow, appreciative grin to spread across his face.

The larger man seemed particularly enamored by Maera’s charm. He smiled down at her, his eyes raking over her body with a lustful gaze that sent a shiver down her spine. His appreciative glance traveled from her face to her swollen belly, then back up again, making no effort to hide his interest.

“I am Hugh, and this is Ulf,” he said, gesturing to his pale-haired companion. “We were enlisted by the Queen to tame and ride the wild dragons.”

She cordially extended her hand towards Hugh, who smirked down at her, clearly delighted. Instead of shaking her hand, he bent down and kissed it, his lips lingering a fraction too long.

The gesture didn’t go unnoticed by Aemond, who had had enough of the man flirting with his wife. His face flushed with barely contained anger, Aemond quickly made his way back to Maera’s side, his presence a stark reminder of his protective nature. “She is no queen of ours,” the Prince declared, shooting a glare at Hugh, who seemed to find the situation amusing.

Maera discreetly nudged her husband in the ribs, reminding him to shut his mouth. She glanced over her shoulder, noticing Vhagar and Ēbrion standing watch. Vhagar’s faded green and bronze scales gleamed dully in the overcast light, her massive yellow eyes fixed on the group with a vigilant intensity. Beside her, Ēbrion’s blue and black scales shimmered, his orange eyes narrowing as he monitored every movement.

Turning her attention back to the strangers, Maera’s gaze shifted over Hugh and Ulf’s shoulders to their dragons. The bronze and silver dragons, though alert, had their ears pressed down against their heads—a clear sign of submission to the larger dragons. Their eyes were glued to the interactions, ready to respond but not challenging the dominance of Vhagar and Ēbrion.

“In any case, I am impressed,” she commented. “Tis no easy feat to claim a dragon. And you’re both clearly quite good at controlling them if Rhaenyra has left you in charge of her castle.”

The men seemed thoroughly charmed by Maera’s demeanor. Sensing an opportunity, she decided to probe for more information about Rhaenyra’s invasion of the capital and the roles Ulf and Hugh played in the war effort. But she would need to be subtle about it.

“My lords,” she addressed them, despite their previous insistence that they held no titles. “I know this is…unusual, but we have traveled a long way.” Maera then looked down at her bump, stroking it lovingly with a maternal tenderness. “And in my condition, I will need food and rest before departing once more. Could I trouble you for your hospitality?”

Ulf seemed hesitant, glancing at Hugh, but the giant man jumped in before his ally could answer. “We could not deny entry to such a charming princess.” His voice was deep, almost rumbling, and his eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and admiration.

Maera beamed at him, her smile warm and inviting. She reached out and squeezed the giant’s arm tenderly, feeling the solid muscle beneath his tunic. “You are too kind.” Her touch lingered just long enough to make Aemond shift uncomfortably, his jaw tightening.

Aemond cleared his throat, the sound a sharp reminder of his presence. Maera couldn’t help but feel a small sense of satisfaction, a subtle payback for how Aemond indulged Alys in the past. She withdrew her arm and sighed, her demeanor shifting to one of genuine concern.

“And whilst it needn’t be said, my womanly mind causes me to overthink.” She placed a delicate hand on her chest, her eyes wide and innocent. Both men tilted their heads in confusion before the princess explained. “My husband and I invoke the guest right. We and our dragons will do you no harm so long as you do not harm us.”

The men exchanged glances, a moment of hesitation passing between them. Finally, the pale-haired man nodded, his expression softening. “Of course.”

Hugh then offered his thick arm for the princess to take. “Come. The journey must have been a tiring one.” His voice was gentle now, almost comforting.

As Maera was about to gratefully accept, she felt a firm squeeze on her forearm. She turned to see Aemond, his face stoic but his violet eye displaying concern and distrust of the strangers.

“Īlon jorrāelagon naejot volper,” We need to be careful, the Prince murmured.

Maera met his gaze, her own eyes communicating reassurance. She knew what she was doing.“Rāpirī aōha perzys se bisa situation kostagon mirre vaoresagon,” Quell your fire and this situation may work in our favour.

Notes: 6 more days my guys 😎 also it’s my birthday! Here’s my gift to you all! 🖤 the plot thickens 👀 and shoutout to @choclovr who figured out where this was going

Tags: @0eessirk8 @magicseahorse @blue-serendipity @abecerra611 @saltedcaramelpretzel @marvelescvpe @watercolorskyy @shesjustanothergeek @thelastemzy @kckt88 @darylandbethfanforever9

Thank you so much for reading! Comments, feedback, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🖤

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bloodreinasbathwater · 3 days

Text

The Art & The Muse

Pairing: Luke Hughes x Artist!Reader

a:n took me forever to post this because I thought it was so boring (overthinking) and my Nico fic has taken up so much time, but here she is the artist and Luke in the official part 1.

Masterlist Link

Summary: A struggling artist finds inspiration in the most unexpected place - a painting class which the famous Luke Hughes has joined. y/n is in awe at his beauty, finding herself fascinated by his masculine beauty.

Part 1

word count - 3500

Y/N's fingers gripped the charcoal pencil with practiced ease as she surveyed the blank canvas before her, a slight furrow in her brow. Around her, the chatter of the other students filled the air, but she found herself quickly tuning it all out, her focus narrowing to the task at hand.

In her mind's eye, she could already see the image she wanted to create: a solitary figure standing on the precipice of a towering cliff, their gaze lost in the vast expanse of the ocean below. It was a scene that had haunted her dreams for weeks, and she couldn't wait to bring it to life.

She shook her head, ridding herself of any new ideas for the time being. This painting class was meant to learn a new perspective, to master the art of realism that had eluded her for the past two years. Her company had been nagging her relentlessly to deliver a new collection, and she knew she needed to regain her focus.

The class had begun, and the instructor - a petite woman with a warm smile and thick accent - was busy demonstrating techniques for sketching the live model posing at the front of the room.

Y/N nodded along absently, her eyes flickering toward the model, but it wasn't long before her gaze was drawn elsewhere.

"Alright, class, let's start with the basics," the instructor said, her voice lilting with an exotic flair. "Pay close attention to the model's posture, the way the light hits their skin. These are the details that will bring your sketch to life."

Y/N hummed in acknowledgement, but her focus had already shifted. Three easels down, sat a man who had immediately captured her attention the moment he'd walked through the door.

His sandy brown curls peeked out from under a well-worn beanie, and his strong, angular features were enough to make Y/N's breath catch in her throat.

She knew she shouldn't stare, that it was rude to ignore the instructor's guidance, but she simply couldn't tear her eyes away. There was something magnetic about this man, from the way he held his charcoal pencil between calloused fingers to the intense focus etched into the lines of his face as he worked.

The instructor had moved on to demonstrating color mixing, but Y/N barely registered the words.

Before she could stop herself, Y/N's hand began to move across the canvas, charcoal leaving bold strokes in its wake. She sketched the curve of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the mesmerizing fullness of his lips. Each line was infused with a reverence, a fascination that had taken hold of her very being.

As the instructor continued to walk the room, offering guidance and critiques, Y/N found herself falling further and further under the spell of this enigmatic stranger.

She should have been following along, observing the live model and honing her own technique, but something about this man had utterly captivated her.

The sharp planes of his shoulders, the flex of muscle in his forearm as he worked - Y/N drank it all in, her fingers moving with a fervor that belied her usual cool, composed demeanor.

This was no longer just a simple sketching exercise; it had transformed into an exploration, a quest to unravel the mysteries hidden within every inch of this man's captivating form.

Y/N's brow furrowed in concentration, her tongue peeking out from between her lips as she navigated the delicate shadows and contours of his features.

She knew, deep down, that this was a risky endeavor - what if he caught her staring? What would the other students think? - but in that moment, none of it mattered.

"Wonderful work, class! Now, let's move on to adding depth and dimension with shading."

Y/N risked another glance in his direction, her breath catching in her throat as she noticed him glance up, his intense gaze sweeping the room.

For a moment, their eyes met, and Y/N felt a jolt of electricity shoot through her. His brow furrowed slightly, as if he'd sensed her scrutiny, and she quickly looked away, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"Oh Jesus Christ, get a grip," she muttered under her breath, determinedly keeping her eyes fixed on her own canvas.

As the class wore on, Y/N found herself growing increasingly distracted, her sketches growing sloppy and unfocused. The instructor's critiques sailed over her head, her mind too preoccupied with unravelling the mystery of the alluring stranger.

Finally, the lesson drew to a close, and Y/N let out a quiet sigh of relief. Quickly, she gathered her supplies, eager to make a hasty exit before the man had a chance to notice her. But just as she turned to leave, a flash of movement caught her eye.

There he was, standing just a few feet away, his gaze fixed on her with an intensity that made her pulse quicken. For a moment, they simply stared at each other, suspended in a charged silence.

Then, before Y/N could react, he took a step forward, a curious expression on his face.

"Hi," he said, his voice low and velvety smooth. "I'm Luke."

…

Y/N took a deep, steadying breath as she pushed open the glass doors of the towering office building, the sleek marble floors and modern decor greeting her with an air of cool professionalism. Squaring her shoulders, she strode purposefully towards the elevator bank, her heels clicking against the polished tiles.

As she waited for the elevator, Y/N could feel the familiar fluttering of nerves in the pit of her stomach. This wasn't going to be an easy conversation, she knew that much.

Her reps had been hounding her for months, pressuring her to deliver a new collection. It was the same old song and dance - her art was in high demand, and her company was eager to capitalize on her success.

The elevator dinged, and Y/N stepped inside, her fingers drumming anxiously against the railing as it carried her up to the 15th floor. When the doors finally slid open, she made her way down the plush carpeted hallway, the sound of her heels muffled.

Approaching the sleek wooden doors of her company's offices, she paused for a moment, taking another deep breath to steel her nerves.

"You can do this," she murmured to herself, before pushing open the doors and stepping into the reception area.

The secretary, a prim-looking woman with a severe bun, looked up from her computer screen, her eyebrows arching slightly at Y/N's arrival. "Ms. Y/N," she said, her tone clipped. "They're expecting you."

Y/N nodded, forcing a polite smile as she moved to take a seat on one of the plush leather couches that adorned the waiting area. Her hands fidgeted in her lap, betraying the anxiety that roiled within her. This wasn't the first time she'd been summoned to this office, and she knew it wouldn't be the last.

Time seemed to crawl by as she sat there, the tick of the clock on the wall the only sound that broke the stifling silence. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the secretary rose from her desk.

"They'll see you now," she announced, gesturing towards the ornate double doors that led to the executive offices.

Y/N rose on shaky legs, taking one last steadying breath before pushing open the doors and stepping inside. The plush, wood-paneled office was exactly as she remembered - imposing and intimidating, a physical manifestation of the power wielded by the company that controlled her artistic future.

Seated behind the massive mahogany desk were three stern-faced individuals, their piercing gazes fixed squarely on her. Y/N felt her heart hammering in her chest as she approached, each step feeling heavier than the last.

"Thank you for coming, Y/N," the man in the center spoke, his voice level but tinged with a subtle edge of impatience. "We have some...concerns we'd like to discuss with you."

Y/N nodded mutely, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides as she braced herself for the impending confrontation. The three figures seated before her - the company's CEO, CFO, and head of marketing - regarded her with a disconcerting blend of expectation and exasperation.

"As you know, Y/N," the CEO began, steepling his fingers atop the gleaming desktop, "your work has been in incredibly high demand these past few years. Your paintings have become the talk of the art world, and our company has greatly benefited from your success."

Y/N felt a prickle of unease creep up her spine. She knew where this was heading, and it made her stomach churn with dread.

"However," the man continued, his brow furrowing slightly, "we've noticed a...concerning trend as of late. It's been months since your last major release, and our clients are growing restless." He paused, his steely gaze boring into her. "To be blunt, they're demanding new work. And that's where our concern lies."

Y/N opened her mouth, scrambling for a response, but the CFO cut her off with a raise of his hand.

"We've been patient, Y/N, but our patience is wearing thin. You're our biggest asset, our crown jewel. And frankly, we can't afford to have you sitting idle." He leaned forward, his expression grim. "There's been...talk of other artists who may be able to provide the output we need. Artists who are hungrier, more prolific than you."

Y/N's heart sank like a stone. She knew exactly who they were referring to - Jacob, a rising star in the art world whose bold, innovative style had been the talk of the industry for months. He'd been aggressively courting her company, and by the sounds of it, they were seriously considering his overtures.

"I...I understand your concern," Y/N managed, hating the way her voice wavered. "But I can assure you, I'm working on a new collection as we speak. In fact, I have one more painting to finish, and then I'll have the entire series ready for you."

The three executives exchanged a loaded glance, their expressions unreadable. Finally, the CEO leaned back in his chair, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Well, that's...excellent news, Y/N. We're pleased to hear it." He paused, letting the words hang in the air. "Of course, we'll need to see the completed works as soon as possible. You understand the urgency of the situation, I'm sure."

Y/N nodded mutely, her mouth suddenly dry. "Absolutely. I'll have everything ready by my deadline."

"Wonderful." The CEO rose from his seat, his two colleagues following suit. "We look forward to seeing what you've created. Don't disappoint us, Y/N."

As they filed out of the office, Y/N felt a heavy weight settle in the pit of her stomach. She'd lied through her teeth, and they all knew it. But what choice did she have? Her career, her very livelihood, hung in the balance. She had to deliver, no matter the cost.

…

Luke’s pov

Luke pushed open the front door of the apartment he shared with his older brother Jack, the familiar sounds of chatter and laughter immediately greeting him. However, as he stepped inside, the first thing that caught his eye was an unfamiliar figure curled up on their couch beside Jack.

She was a striking woman, with fiery red hair that spilled over her shoulders in lush waves. Her features were bold and angular, with a nose that seemed slightly disproportionate to the rest of her face. Luke couldn't help but stare for a moment, brow furrowed in confusion.

"Hey?" he said quietly, the lilt in his voice making it sound more like a question than a greeting.

Jack perked up at the sound, a mischievous smile spreading across his lips as he lightly pushed the woman off his shoulder. Turning around, he draped his chest over the back of the couch, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Lukey! There you are," he exclaimed. "How was the class?"

Luke glanced down at his hands, suddenly feeling uncharacteristically unsure of himself. "Uh, it was fine, I guess," he mumbled. "I, uh, actually met a girl there."

Jack's grin widened, his eyebrows waggling suggestively. "A girl, huh? Do tell!"

"It wasn't that serious," Luke hurried to clarify, a faint blush creeping up his neck. "I just...I caught her staring at me a couple times, that's all."

"Ooh, a secret admirer!" Jack crowed, practically bouncing in his seat. "Way to go, bro! So, what's she like? Is she cute?"

Luke shrugged, fighting the urge to fidget under his brother's intense scrutiny. "I don't know, I didn't really get a chance to talk to her much. She seemed nice, I guess."

Jack let out a dramatic sigh, shaking his head in exasperation. "Typical Luke, always so reserved. Come on, man, give me the juicy details! What did she look like? Was there any, you know, chemistry?" He waggled his eyebrows again, and the woman beside him giggled coyly.

Luke felt his cheeks burning, suddenly wishing he could just disappear. "I don't know, Jack," he grumbled. "She left before I had a chance to ask much, it was just a painting class, that's all. Nothing special."

"Aw, don't be like that." Jack reached out and gave Luke's arm a playful shove. "You gotta put yourself out there more, bro. How else are you gonna meet someone?"

Luke opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, the woman beside Jack piped up, her voice sugary sweet. "Maybe I could help you with that, handsome."

Luke blinked, his gaze snapping to her as he realized she was addressing him. "Uh, I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name," he mumbled, mentally kicking himself for his lack of social grace.

The woman giggled again, batting her eyelashes coyly. "I'm Amber. It's so nice to meet you, Luke."

Both Luke and Jack shared an incredulous look, their brows furrowing in matching expressions of confusion.

Luke stood still, his shoulders tensing as he registered Amber's words. "What do you mean by that?" he cringed, his tone laced with suspicion.

Amber giggled again, seemingly oblivious to the brothers' discomfort. "Well, I just thought maybe I could help you find a special someone," she purred, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "After all, a handsome guy like you shouldn't be single, right?"

Luke's features soured into a sour expression as he awaited her answer. "I, uh, I'm not really looking for -"

"Whoa, whoa, hold up," Jack cut in, holding up a hand. "Are you trying to set my brother up or something?"

Amber turned her gaze to Jack, seemingly delighted by the interruption. "Well, I just thought it would be fun! You know, double dates and all that."

Luke felt his stomach twist with discomfort. This was the last thing he needed - some random woman trying to play matchmaker. He opened his mouth, fully prepared to shut down the idea, when Jack beat him to the punch.

"Sorry, sweetheart, but that's not really our thing," Jack said, his usual easygoing demeanor laced with a subtle edge. "Luke's not interested in that kind of setup. He likes to do his own thing, you know?"

Amber's face fell, a brief flash of disappointment crossing her features before she quickly schooled them into an overly bright smile. "Oh, I see. Well, that's a shame." She reached out, placing a hand on Jack's arm. "I'm sure we could still have fun, though, right?"

Luke watched the exchange with a mixture of relief and mild disgust. He'd never been one for the whole dating scene, and the thought of being set up by some random woman he'd just met made his skin crawl.

As Jack and Amber continued to flirt, Luke took the opportunity to slip away, muttering a hasty excuse about needing to unwind from the painting class.

Once he was safely ensconced in his room, Luke let out a long, weary sigh. Sometimes he envied Jack's ability to charm just about anyone - it would certainly make his own romantic life a lot easier. But for Luke, the whole dating game just felt like more trouble than it was worth.

With a shake of his head, he flopped down on his bed, fully intending to avoid the living room for the rest of the evening. The last thing he needed was to get roped into some bizarre double date scheme. No, he was perfectly content to just enjoy the rest of his day off in peace and quiet.

…

Y/N pushed open the door to her loft apartment, panting heavily as she battled to keep her armful of supplies from spilling. The large canvases she was carrying ruffled against the fabric of her coat, the bottles of paint and brushes clanking together with every step.

Frustration etched across her features, Y/N kicked the door open wider, accidentally dropping the heavy canvases to the floor with a dull thud. "Shit!" she cursed, quickly bending down to scoop them up and push them further into the apartment, letting the door slam shut behind her.

Her steps were heavy as she plodded over to the kitchen island, unceremoniously depositing the bags of art supplies. With a weary sigh, Y/N shrugged out of her coat, hanging it by the front door before flipping on the light switch, casting the spacious loft in a warm glow.

As she crossed the room, her gaze was immediately drawn to the massive painting that dominated one wall. With a flick of a switch, the mechanical blinds whirred to life, pulling back to reveal the stunning, yet hauntingly emotional work.

Shades of deep blue and mossy green swirled and blended together, creating an almost hypnotic backdrop for the central figure - a woman, her body draped in chains that seemed to constrict and bind her. The pain and anguish etched into her features was unmistakable, tugging at Y/N's heart.

Y/N stared at the painting, her brow furrowed in deep contemplation. She had been working on this piece for weeks, pouring her heart and soul into every brushstroke, every carefully rendered detail. And yet, something was still... missing.

Crossing the room, she reached out to trace the outline of the woman's face, her fingertips skimming the textured surface of the canvas. She knew this painting was important, a powerful statement on the weight of societal expectations and the struggle for personal freedom. But the emotions it evoked in her were complex, a tangled web of frustration, sorrow, and a deep, primal need to break free.

Y/N's gaze drifted to the discarded art supplies on the island, her mind racing as she considered her next move. As Y/N set to work, carefully selecting her paints and brushes, her thoughts inevitably drifted back to the enigmatic man she had encountered in her art class - Luke.

Try as she might to focus solely on the task at hand, the memory of his striking features and captivating gaze kept creeping into the forefront of her mind. She shook her head, chiding herself for the distraction.

"Get it together," she murmured under her breath, dipping her brush into the rich ultramarine paint. "You have a deadline to meet, remember?"

And yet, despite her best efforts, her mind kept circling back to that fateful moment when Luke had approached her, introducing himself with a warm smile. Y/N felt her palms grow clammy at the mere recollection, her legs beginning to bounce up and down in a nervous fidget.

She had been so caught up in her own work, so consumed by the need to finish her painting, that when he'd come over to speak to her, she had panicked. The words had stuck in her throat, her tongue feeling thick and clumsy, and she'd barely managed a coherent response before practically fleeing the scene.

Y/N let out a frustrated sigh, trying to push the memory aside as she focused on blending the paint on her palette. "It was just a stupid class," she chided herself. "You're a professional, for heaven's sake. You can't afford to get distracted by some...some pretty face."

And yet, even as she tried to convince herself of that, a part of her couldn't help but wonder about Luke. Who was he, really? What was it about him that had so thoroughly captivated her, even in the brief moments they'd interacted?

Shaking her head, Y/N turned her attention back to the canvas, her brush gliding across the surface with renewed determination. She didn't have time to dwell on these silly daydreams and flights of fancy. She had a job to do, a deadline to meet, and a company that was counting on her.

Still, as she worked, a small part of her couldn't help but wonder if she might cross paths with Luke again. And whether, this time, she'd have the courage to truly get to know him.

…

Tag List <3

@dasiysthings, @mileyraes

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