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vivwritesfics · 2 months

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Fire Is The Devil's Only Friend

Chapter One

There was no such thing as making it on your own with a high profile boyfriend. That was why she kept her relationship a secret. But then after a PR fuck up, her boyfriend is forced into PR relationship and she's left on the side lines, missing him

Warnings: smut, marking up, breeding kink carlos

1.3K

Thank to so freaking much to @darleneslane for the idea for this one! Im so obsessed

Series Masterlist

What is it with interviewers and always asking personal questions? The interview was supposed to be about her new book, and all she was being asked about was potential boyfriends.

She laughed and brushed on the question several times. She couldn't refuse to answer the question; that would just send more curiosity her way. And if she said she was single? Her inbox would be full of flirtatious messages.

Yes, she already had a boyfriend. They'd been together before she had made it big, when she was desperately trying to get somebody to read at least a single page of her writings.

She didn't know who he was when they first met. He was twenty five, gorgeous and oh so charming. It was so easy to fall for him. She fell in love with everything about him, and he with her. Nobody had ever asked her about herself and her writing at the level he did.

On every date he insisted on paying. She wasn't entirely comfortable about it, but she was a struggling author and she had very little money.

She realised who he was when he invited her to a Grand Prix. Initially she had declined. If he had enough money to take the both of them to a Grand Prix, she'd never be able to repay him.

Carlos asked again. It was late, they'd spent the day together and he'd made her dinner. They sat together on the couch, her body against his and his arms around her. "Come with me to a Grand Prix," he asked again and kissed the top of her head.

"Carlos, I can't," she said and turned towards him, her head on his chest.

Carlos kissed the top of her head. "Please," he tried again. "I could really use your support out there."

Suddenly she was sitting up. "You're a driver?" She asked, brows furrowed.

"Mi querida, you didn't know?"

She shook her head. "I thought you were just a really big Ferrari fan or something," she admitted.

Carlos couldn't stop the laugh that left his lips. He opened his arms wide once again and she fell against him. "So, are you coming to the Grand Prix with me?" He asked and she nodded her head.

But it wasn't as simple as that. She realised that the day after she agreed to go. She realised that the moment she got that all important email from a publishing house. The email that would change the trajectory of her life.

As upset that Carlos was that she changed her mind on the Grand Prix with him, he understood. As much as he wanted there, he accepted that she'd be supporting him from her apartment.

Nobody knew about her relationship with the Spanish Formula One driver. Her friends were constantly trying to set her up, but none of the men they introduced her to could hold a candle to Carlos. Not that she went on a date with any of these men. Not when she had Carlos.

The day her book was published, a year after she got that first email, she received an invite to the Ferrari garage. She looked at Carlos across the room and he just smirked.

He strode across the room and stood behind the couch, where she sat with notebooks spread around her. "Please, mi corazón," he said, his hand resting on her shoulders as he leaned over her.

She tipped her head back to look up at him. "Okay," she whispered and Carlos leaned down to kiss her.

But then he jumped over the sofa and pulled her to her feet. He pulled her into his arms and spun her around. "You have no idea how happy that makes me," he said and kissed her again.

She set rules. With her book coming out she didn't want to be seen with him, holding his hand or kissing him. She wanted sales off of her own merit, not because Carlos's fans wanted to support her, as sweet as it was.

"One day," he said, his forehead pressed against hers.

"One day," she agreed and kissed him.

She wanted to be there for the entire weekend, but she had meetings with her publisher and her own public relations team. The release of her book was the Wednesday after the Grand Prix and the publishers media team was working hard to push it.

The Grand Prix was a weekend to relax for her. At least, when it came to publishing her book. For the entire Grand Prix she'd have her nails between her teeth, anxiously chewing them.

She was in the Ferrari garage for the race. Nobody quite knew who she was. When the cameras zoomed in on her, the title card beneath her name just said 'indie author', which wasn't strictly true.

It was her first Grand Prix. Carlos was so close to a podium, just missing out. Still, she'd kiss him and celebrate later as though he'd won a world championship.

Carlos watched as Max held Kelly close, as Sergio held his wife and Charles held Alexandra. He wanted that, more than anything he wanted to hold his girl.

Soon, he'd be holding her soon.

That night, hidden away in their hotel room, Carlos wrapped his strong arms around her. His hips moved against her as she moaned and writhed beneath him. He kissed her neck, bit and nibbled, sucking at the skin there.

The bed squeaked as he moved, thrusting into her. "I'm gonna put my baby in you," he grunted, eyes shut as she clenched around him. Her legs shook as she came around him and Carlos let out breathy grunts.

He came, his thrusts sloppy as his seed painted her walls. His forehead was against hers as he pulled out and laid down beside her, wrapping his arms around her.

"I love you," she whispered and kissed his nose.

Carlos pulled her into his warm body. "I love you," he whispered back. They fell asleep like that, a tangle of limbs, wrapped in each others loving embrace. For the first time in a year, Carlos was happy to be falling asleep beside the girl he loved after a race.

As they fell asleep, in the early hours of the morning, something very different was happening with the staff of the Ferrari F1 team. Well, for one particular member of the Ferrari F1 team, things were very different.

Maybe the employee was disgruntled, unhappy with their job. They had information that nobody else had, which is why they released it to the world. That was the one piece of power they had as a social media admin.

The post was only online for seconds before another admin took it down. But that was long enough for fifty thousand people to have screenshots. All of the dirty secrets Ferrari had been hiding from the fans. Details of sordid affairs and more. Scuderia Ferrari had been laid bare for the world to see.

The PR team worked through the night. They had to do something, something that would distract the world. "Who is the girl that's been coming to the garage?" Asked a member of the team.

"Who, the author?"

The team member shook her head. "The model. Rebecca something."

"Rebecca Donaldson?"

The team member pointed her pen towards her colleague. "Bingo. We set her up with Carlos and it should take the heat off of us for a while."

It was decided. Carlos Sainz, who the world thought was single, was going to be set up with Rebecca Donaldson to distract the world from the Ferrari blunder.

The ring buried away in his bag would certainly have something to say about it.

Permanent Taglist: @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @minkyungseokie @formulaal @hiireadstuff @urfavnoirette @goldenharrysworld @andydrysdalerogers @hrts4scarr @llando4norris @evlkking @lilymurphy03

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz x reader smut #f1 #formula one #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #cs55 #cs55 imagine #cs55 x reader

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junglemindless · 9 months

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okay, so. i have loved pjo since i was 12 and this can definitely be explained also by the fact percy is so freaking hot. this days i was thinking about our boy and just have to share some of the stuff i thought about him in all this years. here we go with some headcanons of bf percy and percy in general;;

• i have a thing for silver chain necklaces. you know, one of this things every hot guy has? yeah. percy does wears one. his mother give it to him probably. and he never takes it off. it reflects the sun when he's surfing, stands out on his tanned skin, touches your face when he's on top of you kissing you or whatever else

• percy IS an nba obsessed. he will invite you to watch the games with him and will give you his personal opinion about the players, the moves, even the uniforms if you want to know.

• he secretly is zodiac guy. like, in front of his friends or any public conversation he will deny it. but if you're into it, and just says something like "our zodiact signs are compatible!" he'll be happy about it and feel like he's part of something magical, you know? like he's known all along that you're supposed to be together.

• talking about interests: he definitely will listen with heart eyes whatever you talk about. books? shows? basketball or another sport? celebrities drama? taylor swift folklore's love triangle? he's here for it. laying on his bed with you sitting by his side telling him about it, and he's just staring at your beautiful eyes and playing with your hair

• he also love movies. he has an letterboxd account which he is religiously active on. also, he give extra stars to the movies you watch togheter just because he is on a good mood.

• btw, when he's calling you to watch a movie, it is to watch a movie. boy take the movies thing really serious.

• he will be watching barbie AND oppenheimer. and he will take you to both.

• percy can't sleep without being tangled with you. he's an huge touchy guy, bear hugs, forehead kisses, hands on your waist, head laying down on your chest. he just loves the feeling of your body with him

• bro is an biology princess. is the only thing he really found interesting. he loves nature, the sea, the animals.... everybody knows he's going to do marine biology. he's not an working-on-office-all-day type of person so 99% of chance of him working saving marine animals on an research group.

• his instagram profile would totally be about animals he saved. him just doing ✌️🤘👉👍with some type of turtle or an aquarium of clown fishes

• you gave him different marine stuffed animals and he keeps it on his shelf, right on the side of a picture of you and him on a beach day.

• as soon as he gets money, he will take you to a summer on greece.

• he is so fucking loyal. he CAN'T like anyone else. he just thinks about you. in a way that is almoust obsessive.

• also, kind jealous. okay, im trying to be nice with him, he's very very jealousy guy. not because he doesn't trust you or your love for him, but because he doesn't trust other people. at least, thats what he says everytime he sees this one friend of yours

• percy is a tattoo guy. he will have symbols, greek words, abstract stuff, strong animals.... and your initials on his chest once he knows for sure you're here to stay.

• i saw that jeremy allen white keeps a letter of his wife with him to read when he's missing home and i just can't get it out of my mind. percy will totaly take a small peace of paper with something you wrote to him when he's traveling to research or smth and read it before going to sleep 😫😫😫

humm alright. i think that's it for today. i love percy he's so fucking sweet. also, english is not my first language and i had never write for tumblr before soooooo sorry for anything.

hope you enjoyed and stuff 💪

HEY! we have a part. 2 :)

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson smut #percy jackson headcanon #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson au #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson boyfriend

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thevirgincherry · 3 months

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AND I LOVE HER !

ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. omg.. fluff and that’s it im sick, age gap, like brief mentions to sex idk, slight angst

note. don’t know what happened to me! ignore typos/mistakes this isn’t edited :3 rbs n feedback always appreciated omg im embarrassed ngl this is just leon feeling guilty as always

“Okay, and so we get bored, right?” You tell him, perched on the bathroom counter, peeling back your false lashes to reveal– you guessed it, your natural layer of lashes which look identical to the fake pair. “Like, there wasn’t a lot to do, I mean it was snowing, we couldn’t leave campus, we couldn’t even leave her bedroom, right?” Leon gives an Mhm to show you he’s listening and totally not dozing off to the sound of your voice. Sorry, babe, sometimes it just puts him to sleep. The same way white noise does. “We go on Bumble - you know what that is, right?”

“Oh, yeah, obviously,” Leon scoffs, when in fact he doesn't know what that is.

“So, yeah, we're swiping, swiping, not a single right, right?” Another Mhm from his side, you’re using a cotton bud to remove your eye makeup, the black smears and becomes streaky on your skin. Cute, that’s how you look after a nice, hard fucking. His mind wanders far away to the sanctum that is his bedroom, the room on the opposite side of the hall. “And so Ashley, you remember her, right?”

“Rings a bell,” It rings no bells, not a single one, the only Ashley he knows is ex-First Daughter Ashley Graham. “The short one?” All your friends are short, he makes a purposely vague guess to hide his disinterest. Leon would put more into this conversation if he wasn’t five seconds away from conking out on the closed toilet seat.

“Yeah, that one, her fucking boyfriend pops up!”

“From where?” He asks, genuinely concerned for your wellbeing, was the freak hiding out in his girlfriend’s dorm room, under the bed of some shit?

“On Bumble?” You shoot him an odd look through the mirror, “Anyway, his profile says some shit about an open relationship, that his girlfriend wants a threesome, like, all this shit.”

“That’s awful.” He gets the gist, the dude is a cheater, still has no clue what a Bumble is.

“I know, and he’s ugly, that’s the worst part, she’s out of his league.” You hop off the counter, running the tap to wash your face in that ritualistic manner. Scrub, splash, wipe. Shit’s obsessive, Leon’s only ever ran his wet hands over his face, uses his thumbs to get the gunk out the corner of his eyes. “She was totally upset,” You say, lathering your face in foam, “She wouldn’t stop crying, and don’t, like, tell her or anything, babe,” You rub circles on your cheeks, the soap bubbles up, the tap has been running five minutes too long.

“Wasn’t planning on it, babe.” Leon tips his head back to soothe the tension in his neck, when you cup your hands and splash water into your face, droplets splatter on the counter.

“Good, well, to tell you the truth, she was pissing me off,” A few more minutes of what looks more like a facial massage than a wash and you’re done, “Like, he was never even nice to her, he made her pay for dates, and she was really crying hard, Leon, like, snot and everything.”

“Lousy guy.”

“Yeah, and so we find a place that’s open on the map, like, a convenience store, I mean it was like gas and groceries, but it was so fucking shady, babe,” You pat your face dry with a towel, hanging it up on the rack, “And, like, we try to get an Uber, or like literally any cab at this point, but no one wants to drive in that weather, you saw what kinda clothes I took too!”

Oh, Leon did, and he did the right thing and warned you that tie-up tops and mini skirts so mini they could be classified as belts would do nothing for you. Well, they do everything for your figure, but nothing against the least windy of winds. Like a shaky orange leaf clinging to the weary branches of an autumn tree, those scraps of Lycra would go flying, leaving you topless and bottomless and defenceless without a Leon to take care of your sorry ass.

“So, I’m like so sure I’ve got frostbite as we’re walking, but it’s five minutes away, we keep going, none of us had an ID by the way, not even a real one,” The second part of your routine involves applying lotion so thickly, it secretes enough palm oil to give back to those Amazonian orangutans, solving the deforestation issue one nighttime routine at a time.

“Babe,” Leon says in the tone of a disappointed and slightly exasperated father who wants nothing but the best for his daughter while being emotionally distant all at once, because he just has that kind of voice, “You can’t be doing that, it’s dangerous, could get in a lot of trouble, and it’s bad for you, y’know?” His liver cries out in disbelief as it has been subjugated completely by his alcoholism, “You don’t need drinks to have fun, you just need your friends.” His words pass through you. Leon has changed the world through his Special Agent status, he’s saved it time and time again, what he has not done is change your world like he suspected he would with that half-assed motivational speech.

“So, Ashley, the bitch, she shoves me in front, and all the girls are like oh, you go up, you look soo much older than us, which is so fucking rude. Like, I know I look it, everyone says it to me, doesn’t mean she should say it. So, I go up, and babe - I swear to god, he doesn’t even ask, like, he just kinda looked at my tits and scanned the bottles.” You use your hands a lot when you speak.

He blinks at you bare-faced, and it all comes falling down, on top of him like gigantic Jenga blocks that he himself misplaced. “You’re a baby,” Leon tells you. Not in the way most older men do when they talk down to young girls - to make them feel like even younger girls. It’s not to put you in your place, after all, it is Leon that needs to be put in his place more than anyone. He says this with the utmost sincerity as he spirals head-first into a frantic epiphany of sorts. He’s fucking a baby. A baby with a heart-shaped ass and a penchant for clothes that cover a single nipple at best.

“No, I’m not a baby, I’m just not old,” There’s a lack of hardened lines on your face, not quite baby-faced, but visibly young.

“Yeah, okay, baby,” Leon pats your head, rolls his shoulders back to relieve him of an ache, “I’m going to bed.”

“So am I.” Your lips jut out, “I was going there first actually.” Holy Mother of God, you’re a kid. Don’t do this to him. Usually, Leon likes his women menopausal, Norman Bates would agree, that’s insensitive, rather Mrs Bates would agree. It’s just that when you’re forty-six, fucking older women goes into grandma territories. Women his age are beautiful, but half of them settled down over ten years back, the available ones are career women that keep him on his toes, and he doesn’t like that. Being kept on his toes is too much, his back hurts and he wants to rest. The other half come with kids, Leon would rather scoop out his brain with a tea spoon than come into close contact with a child. The appeal wears off either way because Leon wants them to be older than him, but he’s not twenty anymore so the older women won’t be forty and stern and beautiful in the way worn out housewives are, they’ll be sixty and senile.

“Were you now?” He keeps the bile down in his stomach where it should be, takes you to bed, fucks you into the mattress one last time, kisses the mole between your breasts and leaves the following morning. What drug was he on the night he met you? Leon doesn’t know, and he doesn’t know if he’s still on it, or if dating younger women is a side effect of it.

The car windows are frosted over when he makes his way out without a de-icer in hand, it melts slowly as he sits in the driver's seat with his head bowed, drooped on top of the wheel. Leon pats himself down, feeling for his keys, he gets out, into the elevator and returns to face the front door. He slots his key into the lock and enters the apartment because it is his apartment, not yours. He’s so used to walking out on people that he walked out of his own home. Selfish tendencies that surely stem from some fucked up part of his brain.

“Leon?” You’re stood there in the doorway rubbing your eyes, “Did you go out?”

“Yeah, babe,” He grunts when you take your seat on his lap, the weight is pleasant, grounds him, “I went out, just for a minute, had to take a call, didn’t wanna wake you.”

“I woke up the minute you got out of bed.” The softness of your skin on his is dizzying, sleep-swollen lips coming to kiss his scruffy face with all the tenderness of a young adult woman, that’s a lot of tenderness, they feel a lot. Heart might not be on your sleeve, but it leaks out of you in the most insignificant moments, it’s in every single word you say to him. “You’re not very quiet, Leon. I don’t know who hired you, they should reconsider.”

Smiling, he cradles your close, takes your tit in his hand. Love is stored in these things. That’s why your heart is in the left one, not on your sleeve. “Was I that loud?”

“Yeah, I heard you stub your toe, and you were like fuck, fuck, fuck! for a good minute,” You recount, “And then I heard you talking to yourself in the bathroom, and you were brushing your teeth, you kept making those gross gagging noises, my dad does that too.”

“Trying to get it all out.” Leon shrugs, his chin rests atop your head.

“Get what out? Your uvula?”

“No, stupid, just, I don’t know, stop asking questions.”

“Okay, whatever, and then you walked out still talking to yourself, and then you were looking for your keys, moving furniture,” That he was, “Sounds like you scraped up the floors,” That he did, “Then you found them and they kept fucking jingling, then you shut the door really quietly, and I was like where is this loser going. Hey, Leon, you know I can see your car from here, right?”

You’d seen him. Seen him throw a sulky manchild tantrum in his car. How embarrassing. “If I’m being honest, I didn’t know that.” He admits.

“Well, I saw you sitting in there, I know you didn’t go to the store, I know you’re lying to me, but it’s okay,” You kiss his Adam’s apple, your nose tucked into his neck, “I know you didn’t mean it.”

“I didn’t— I didn’t mean it,” Leon confirms, he holds you tighter to him and thinks that you're more mature than he’ll ever be. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” It comes easily to you, and he wishes to do the same, “You can talk to me instead of, like, trying to drive away from your own apartment, that’s pretty weird, Leon.”

“I know, I’ll talk to you,” He won’t, and you know that, and he knows you know that, but it’s okay, it takes time for this sort of stuff, “I love you,” Leon says again, his lips meet yours, swallows up the response on your tongue, he eats your love.

#leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil fluff #leon kennedy fluff #leon s kennedy fluff

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aliaology · 6 months

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NOW THAT WE DONT TALK

summary: jack realizes yns music is quite literally a call out, directed towards him, and his brothers egg it on. pt.3

series masterlist

“i called my mom, she said ‘that it was for the best!’ remind myself the more i gave, you’d want me less”

jack could’ve hit his head against the counter ten more times and the song would still be ringing through his ears like a splinter that wouldn’t come out of his hand.

quinns hand made contact with the back of jacks head. “knock it off, jack.”

jack groaned, shoving his head into his arms. he groaned again, this time the noise being muffled due to the his arm. “she wrote a song about me, quinn.”

quinn rolled his eyes. “you don’t know its about you” he told.

jack scoffed, head shooting up. “she literally called me out. the parties, that stupid red sea reference, even the chorus. its so obviously me. and then her newer single that dropped thirty minutes ago?’

quinn shrugged, “could be about trevor”

jack rolled his eyes, “no way in hell, quinn. they never hooked up and her newer one is about some guy hooking up with her later on—“

“you sound obsessed, jack.” quinn told. jack looked down, embarrassed.

“whats jack obsessed with?” trevor asked, walking inside the kitchen. he stole a grape from jack and popped it into his mouth.

“y/n’s song” quinn spoke.

trevor scoffed, “why are you so hung up on it? its just music.” trevor shrugged.

“hes upset because hes getting called out.”

jack groaned again, head hitting the counter.

quinn rolled his eyes again. “you’ve gotta stop doing that dude. listen— she probably made these ages ago and just now got to releasing them.”

trevor popped another grape in his mouth. “not too sure about that, but i know she started writing them when you two broke up.”

luke slowly walks in. “seriously? you guys are torturing the man talking about his ex.”

jack nods, signifying lukes words to be true.. luke goes into the cupboard to grab a plate. “just ignore it.” he shrugged.

trevor snorted. jack sent the boy a glare, causing his laughter to abruptly stop. “how can i just ignore it? shes getting big and her music is everywhere already.” he asked.

quinn gave him a look. “then face it, jack. you can’t keep putting yourself in denial for something you caused.”

jack let out an exasperated groan for the 100th time. “gee, thanks quinn. way to make me feel better.”

“dont start giving him shit, jack.” luke spoke.

jack rolled his eyes. “whatever, im going to my room.” he got up and went for the stairs.

all three boys looked around at each other. silence fell through the room. suddenly, the sliding door opens. “whats going on?” cole asked.

“quinn picked his side of the argument.” trevor spoke, slightly glaring at quinn.

quinn gave one back, “dont act innocent, trevor. you screwed her over too. you and jack need to own up to it and stop cowering like little kids. you are both in your twenties for fucks sake. grow up.”

quinn went off to his room, leaving a wide eyed group of boys behind.

jacks brows furrowed as he listened to the song in his earbuds. his girlfriend napped next to him as he sat up on the bed. he hates to admit it, but he kinda deserved this.

“lets fast forward to three hundred awkward blind dates later. if shes got blue eyes, i will surmise that you’ll probably date her. you dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor, you search in every model—“

he stopped the song, taking his earbuds out and tossing them to the floor. he cheated, and now was dating the girl he cheated with. it was sad, really.

fiona, she was a woman who loved money. jack, was a man who loved attention. maybe that’s why they were together. but she wasn’t horrible like people said, right?

quietly, he went to tik tok and made a fake account, that way she knew he didn’t stalk her profile. i mean— she has no idea he even uses it still.

jack searched fionas name up, ultimately clicking on her profile. she had one video up. he clicked on it.

ick ick ick ick

she was lip syncing that really terrible audio that went ‘he chose me, he dont want you. he chose me’ and honestly, jack was appalled.

but before he could open the comments, she started to wake up. he swiped out of the app and deleted it, tossing his phone to the side afterwards.

“hey baby.” he smiled.

now that we dont talk!

tags! @honethatty12 (if u want tags, just ask <3)

#hockey #jack hughes #nhl imagine #new jersey #new jersey devils #nhl #nhl hockey #quinn hughes #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes #trevor zegras #cole caufield #mitch marner

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linos-luna · 7 months

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Yandere Stray Kids Profiles 🔪

My headcannons for Yandere Skz.

—————————— 🔪 ——————————

Bang Chan

Manipulative and controlling

Chan doesn’t need to hurt you. He can charm you into doing whatever he wants. He can control who you talk to or where you go and you wouldn’t even realize it. He love bombs you and hits all your insecurities. On the rare chance that he does get mad, he’ll punish you by a spanking. But he apologizes afterwards and makes you believe you deserved it.

• He’s so sweet and loving

.• gives you everything you could ever want.

• spoils you and tells you nice things.

• he has successfully cut off your friends and family. But you don’t know that. He says they abandoned you.

• you might develop Stockholm Syndrome

• he’s all you need.

• Always gaslighting you

• you call him Daddy.

• A rule he’s very strict about

• He’ll spank you if you make him mad.

• and make you explain what you did wrong

• then tell you it hurt him more than you.

• and you believe him. He’s so loving! How could you make him so angry?

“Daddy is very disappointed in you…”

“Why would you do that, babygirl?”

“Whatever you want, I’ll buy it for you!”

“Do you want daddy to touch you? To make you feel good?”

“Daddy would never hurt you.”

Minho

Unhinged but controlling

Unhinged is putting it lightly. He loves you desperately and believes you love him too. Unlike Chan, he is not so subtle when controlling you. He loves being in control. And he’s not afraid to hurt you.

• He’ll snap at you at random.

• obsessed with everything you do

• rarely lets you go out but when you do, he always stalks you.

• rules he expects you to follow

- call him oppa

- kisses everday!

- wear only what he wants you to wear

- NO talking back…

• He WILL punish you

• lock you in the closet or spank you

• actually, he looks for any excuse to do so

• He loves to bend you over his lap and spank you, making you count each one

Changbin

Violent… sometimes unintentional

Changbin is very short tempered. Being with him is like walking on eggshells: but he doesn’t want to hurt you. Not at all! But sometimes he fails to realize his strength.

• He just wants you by his side all the time

• Always hold his hand in public

• or else he’ll pull you close.

• might dislocate your shoulder.

• but he doesn’t mean it!

• but sometimes you make him snap and he’ll yell or slam fists on the table.

• you better hide before you end up in his crossfire

• He will spank you you as a last resort

“Come here, why are you so distant?”

“Why did you make me hurt you?!”

“Im sorry that I love you so much!”

“You make me crazy.”

Hyunjin

Delusional and hopeless romantic

Hyunjin believes you are soulmates. He believes you are the love of his life and wants to please you. Rather than facing reality, he rather stay in this delusion…

• desperate for you

• cherishes and practically worships you

• not very violent but immediately remorseful if he hurts you

• will do everything for you

• you don’t even have to walk

• but you can’t go out without him, even in the backyard

• keeps you away from windows

• can’t taint your skin to the sun rays!

• easily jealous

• writes you poems and makes you are

“Sorry! Sorry! Darling, I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

“You’re the love of my life!”

“Anything for you, love.”

Han

Psychotic and Craves attention 24/7

He’s very needy and constantly wants your attention. If you don’t give it to him, he get mad- no. Furious. How dare you reject him. You’re supposed to love him! I mean, he takes care of you right?

• give him all your attention!

• never mention another boy around him!

• even if it’s like a brother or cousin

• if you don’t give him attention, he’ll get very accusatory

• He’ll think you’re cheating!

• then he gets crazy

• starts speaking nonsense

• and getting violent.

“Why did you leave?? Were you cheating??”

“Noona, who are you talking to?”

“Hey! Get off your phone! Love me!”

“Cheater! How dare you!”

Felix

Subby yandere?

Felix acts like an innocent boy. There’s no way he’s bad. He just wants you to love him and take care of him. But sometimes he gets angry and loses his composure.

• Wants you to be with him all the time. Why would you leave him?

• he’d never hurt you right?

• well if he loses composure, then he will.

• he wants to be your cute subby boy…

• for you to love him and cuddle

• and if you break that he’ll get angry.

• He’ll throw a fit and kick and punch

• Play along if you wanna keep the peace

“No that’s not right! I thought you loved me!”

“Don’t leave me, I’m sowwy 🥺”

Seungmin

Stotic and unpredictable

It’s a little unnerving how calm Seungmin can be. You’re never sure what exactly he’s going to do at any given moment. Sometimes he’s fine, but then he’s yelling at you.

• he’s obsessed with you but doesn’t outwardly show it

• gives you lots of rules

• some you didn’t even know were rules until he gets mad

• he likes making you nervous

• likes controlling you

• hates when you don’t listen

• will suddenly yell in your face.

• threatens you with violence but won’t actually do it

• but then be calm and want to cuddle

“Sweetheart… what are you doing?”

“Did I say you were allowed to talk to her?”

“Bad girl!!”

“Sit down!”

“C’mon baby, let’s go lay down and watch movies ☺️”

Jeongin

Manipulative

Jeongin knows he’s cute. He knows you find him adorable. So he uses that to his advantage. He’ll get you to do anything he wants.

• He would prevent you from going to see family or friends by coincidentally getting hurt

• Your baby is in pain! You must help him!

• constantly injures him actually

• will do anything for your attention

• Says your friend is mean to him. Of course you believe him! Maybe she’s jealous. No need to see her anymore.

“Noona! Where are you going? My stomach hurts. I think I’m sick.”

“I missed you all day. Why don’t you spend time with me?”

“I didn’t mean it, noona! I’m sorry!” 🥺

656 notes · View notes

sapphire-writes · 9 months

Text

Our Last Summer (modern!HOTD)

part 7 of 10 || series masterlist || previous part || next part

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

summary: Aemond realizes he messed things up with you and attempts to reconcile at the summer carnival.

word count: 5.5k

rating: Mature/Explicit/18+

warnings below the cut!

warnings: language, exhibitionism, oral (fem-receiving), fingering, kissing

note: im starting to become obsessed with them ngl 🧍🏻‍♀️

dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics

as always, comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated but not expected ❤️

AEMOND POV

Aemond knew he had fucked up.

Royally, fucked up.

Something he finds himself doing quite often. It had been several days since the hot tub incident. Several days since he’d last spoken to her. Aemond glances at his phone again, watching the time change as Helaena hurries down the stairs.

“Morning,” she calls, tossing her phone onto the couch and stretching her arms above her head with a satisfied sigh.

“It’s noon,” Aemond tells her.

“Where’s Y/N?” Helaena asks, sliding onto the couch next to him.

She lets her feet hang off the edge of the armrest, her neck straining over the cushion as though she’s about to topple off of the sofa altogether. It looks quite uncomfortable, and wildly different from Aemond’s rigid posture as he frowns over his phone.

“How should I know?”

“You’re sleeping with her, aren’t you?” Helaena muses, playing with a strand of her hair, “You usually have your companions over more frequently, if I recall.”

Trying to, Aemond thinks to himself, his jaw clenched. If she’d return my calls.

“She’s upset with me,” Aemond admits, tossing his phone to the side. It’s always been hard to keep the truth from Helaena.

Helaena makes a noise of contempt.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll fix it. You’re clever that way,” Hel encourages, “Perhaps a grand gesture of sorts? Something Austen-esque.”

A phone buzzes on the sofa. Aemond checks his anyway, though he knows it’s Hel’s as she reaches for it.

“It’s whatever,” Aemond lies through his teeth, “Plenty of girls around for the summer.”

“Oh for fucks sake,” Helaena says, twisting her body so she’s upright on the couch, “Can you calm down the fuckboy-sona for five fucking minutes?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Aemond says, shrugging.

Helaena rolls her eyes.

“Okay Egg,” she says with a sneer, “Manwhoring doesn’t look good on you Aem. It’s not in your nature. Doesn’t suit you at all.”

“Suits my cock just fine,” he says, causing Helaena to make a face of disgust.

“Gross,” she says, nose still scrunched, “It’s not you.”

Aemond doesn’t answer. Just glances at his phone again. The time greets him, but no other notifications. He opens Instagram, trying to avoid Helaena’s piercing gaze. As the app opens, he notices your profile picture, signifying you’ve posted a story. He shamelessly clicks on it, revealing you were at Seasnake Scoops seven minutes ago.

Perfect.

“Are you in the mood for ice cream?” Aemond asks, changing the subject and rising from the couch.

Helaena’s frown deepens.

“Aemond-”

“Hel, unless you’re saying yes or no to ice cream, just drop it,” he snaps, moving quickly to leave the room.

“Oh fuck you,” Helaena says, rising from the couch and following him, “You’re just scared Aemond! Fucking scared.”

He hears every word, though he pretends he doesn’t as the front door slams shut behind him, leaving Helaena alone in the house.

The last time Aemond Targaryen was in Seasnake Scoops it was not a pleasant experience. He’d been around thirteen years old at the time, and Aegon had assured him that Cece Lannister was waiting, expecting a date with him.

Aemond remembered how nervous he felt. Though Cece wasn’t his cup of tea, she was beautiful, smart, and held the social status and respect that Aemond craved. A date with Cece was sure to turn the tide for him.

He’d waited all afternoon for her. Seated at a table, knee bouncing uncontrollably with nerves. As people wandered in and out, the lady lion never made an appearance. It was Rhaenyra who found him as the sun began to set, seated on the curb outside the ice cream shop.

It had all been a joke, he’d realized once he entered the house. Aegon was in stitches until his mother smacked him upside the head and yelled at him. Aemond had stayed solemn, walking straight to his room without speaking.

They are always going to laugh at you, he thought to himself.

Standing outside the ice cream shop left a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. Seasnake Scoops was unopposing in itself; it was the memories that haunted it. A small ice cream shop with some tables outside, with blue and white umbrellas offering some shade. There was indoor seating as well with air conditioning.

Aemond stared at the people in line to order, scanning the small crowd for you. The nervous feeling returned being surrounded by all these people, remembering Cece.

Until he saw her.

She had turned her head, reaching for some napkins as the cashier handed her a soft serve twist in a cone covered in rainbow sprinkles. She smiles politely, thanking them before licking a stripe up the side of the frozen treat. There’s something so sweet about the way her eyes light up, Aemond finds himself smiling as she licks her lips.

She turns to leave the line and his eye meets hers. It’s as though someone switches off the light behind her eyes completely.

Cold is the only way to describe the look she awards him, as her mouth falls into a straight line. Aemond only holds her gaze for a moment before she looks towards the ground and begins to quicken her pace. But Aemond is faster.

“Y/N,” he calls, blocking her path back up the stairs inside.

She sighs, avoiding his gaze, assessing whether or not she can squeeze around him.

“Move,” she tells him.

“You’re not answering my texts,” he says, confusion evident in his voice, “Or my calls.”

“Yeah,” she says, “Maybe you should take the hint.”

“I haven’t heard from you all week.”

“I’m trying to eat my ice cream Aemond,” she tells him, “What are you stalking me now?”

“Viewing an Instagram story is hardly a punishable offense,” he tells her.

“Just a reminder to block you later,” she tells him.

Aemond’s heart sinks at her words. There’s no playful banter in her tone, no note of excitement. She’s deadly serious.

“Goodbye,” she tells him, moving past him.

You’re losing her, he realizes. Do something.

“I didn’t mean it,” Aemond says suddenly, “Y/N, I didn’t mean what I-”

“You know what, Aemond?” she says, her gaze icy, “I don’t care what you meant or didn’t mean. I care about what you said.”

Aemond’s chest tightens at her words. She’s standing tall, the ice cream beginning to drip down the cone between her small fingers. She ignores it if she even notices, but Aemond’s eye follows the sticky river beginning to form. He gets a sudden urge to lick the mess from her hand and pull her towards him covering her in sticky kisses.

Seven hells. Stop it.

Aemond blinks as she turns away, before giving him one last lingering look.

“Will is waiting for me,” she tells him, and the ache in his chest grows.

“Will?” he asks, the one-syllable tasting like poison on his tongue.

“Yes, Will,” she says, annoyance in her tone, “People who like each other go on dates. They date each other. I know that must be a foreign concept to you.”

Aemond says nothing, just clenches his teeth so tightly together his jaw begins to ache.

“Maybe give Floris a ring or one of your other friends. I’m sure there’s someone convenient for you,” she says, turning and walking away.

Aemond lets her go, watching as she goes inside Seasnake Scoops, the door slamming shut behind her. The second time in his life he’s been left alone there.

READER POV

“You can’t do this!” Baela’s voice calls from the hallway, “You can’t make me!”

You quickly leap out of bed at the sound of your best friend’s distress, opening the door and flying down the stairs. After your run-in with Aemond, you’d returned to your room to sulk for the majority of the afternoon.

Baela stands below, arms crossed, tear tracks running down her cheeks. Rhaenys stands in front of her, hands folded, a stern expression on her face.

“Baela, it is one dinner-”

“It’s always one dinner,” Baela says, through her teeth, “One dinner, then another, then ‘we have to all go together Baela, as a family’,” she deepens her voice to the likeness of her father, “Like I want to go to that stupid gala and pretend everything is fucking fine!”

Rhaenys moved forward, taking Baela’s hands in her own.

“You’re angry,” she says to her softly, “You have every right to be. But don’t shut him out, dōna jorrāelagon (sweet love). Not when he’s finally trying.”

“For her,” Baela says, quietly, “He’s trying for her.”

“Rhaenyra is trying as well,” Rhaenys assures her, “You are not replacing your mother by letting her in.”

Baela yanks her hands away, angry tears spilling from her eyes. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest.

“I can’t forgive him,” Baela insists, “I can’t do it. I can’t forgive her either.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Rhaenys says, “I’m asking you to try.”

“This is me trying,” Baela snarls, “Staying away, letting them play happy family! That is me trying!”

Rhaenys purses her lips.

“Laena would-”

“Don’t,” Baela warns, shaking her head, “Don’t you dare.”

Her voice has dropped to a whisper. Rhaenys sighs, looking toward the floor. The tension between grandmother and granddaughter could be cut with a knife. Rhaenys looks back at Baela, drinking in her angered expression.

“You’re so much like her,” Rhaenys muses softly, before reaching out and stroking her cheek, “Full of so much fire.”

“I’m not going,” Baela insists.

“You are,” Rhaenys says, “I’ll hear no more of it. You can go to the carnival after.”

“Y/N will be all alone!” Baela says, pointing at you.

Rhaenys gives you an unimpressed look, but you nod quickly. Anything to help your best friend.

Though Rhaenys doesn’t look like she buys it for one second.

“I’m sure Y/N will be fine for a couple of hours,” Rhaenys says, raising an eyebrow at you.

“She’s going to get lost,” Baela says, and you agree.

Rhaenys gives you a stern glance, one only a grandmother can deliver. Baela loops her arm through yours, holding her chin high. You crack first under Rhaenys glare.

“I’m sure I’ll be okay for a little bit,” you say quietly.

Rhaenys smiles at her success as Baela drops your arm with a groan. You give her an apologetic smile, knowing you’ve doomed her to another dinner with her father and stepmother.

You arrive at the carnival just as the sun goes down. It’s already crowded with people, the lights from all the rides making everyone glow with neon colors. The smell of fried food and the sound of laughter fills the air as you wade through the sea of people. You decided on a simple baby blue sundress, styling your hair off of your shoulders. It’s been so hot recently, you can’t stand the feeling of having your hair down.

You glance at your phone, though Helaena has yet to respond. You promised you’d meet her at the main ticket stand.

The minutes tick by and you’re still standing with a rope of red tickets when your phone buzzes letting you know that Helaena had fallen asleep after losing track of time. You sigh, checking your other messages. There’s one from Will asking to meet up later paired with an emoji of a Ferris wheel.

You want to smile, but your stomach turns instead. You can’t help but think of Aemond. Will is nice, very sweet, but it was evident after your ice cream date that you don’t have much in common. And there’s no spark.

When you told Baela, she’d raised an eyebrow at you.

“Spark?” she questioned.

“You know,” you tell her, talking with your hands as you tried to explain, “That feeling just, deep in your gut. Like being pulled to another person. Something that just feels…..right.”

That wasn’t there with Will. And you couldn’t fake a spark.

You sigh, tilting your head back and looking around, trying to determine what you should get to snack on while waiting for Helaena. A booth advertising fried Oreos piques your interest before a tall silver head catches your eye.

Something in your gut tightens with an intense need as you watch Aemond say something to Aegon. He’s wearing all black, as he often is. It’s as though Aemond is allergic to color. He hasn’t seen you yet, and you don’t know whether you hope he does or doesn’t.

You need to be firm, to hold the boundary you set with him. He doesn’t get to disrespect you like that. No matter how attracted to him you are. You may like Aemond- you may like fucking Aemond- but you love yourself more.

His head turns and you look away before meeting those violet and blue eyes. You don’t know how strong your resolve will be if he looks at you again.

“Having fun?” a voice calls, causing you to turn and meet the sapphire eyes of Floris Baratheon.

She looks gorgeous, though you can’t imagine a time when she doesn’t; clad in a skin-tight green dress with her dark curls pulled into a high ponytail. You force a smile as she walks closer, a concerned look in her cobalt eyes. Classic mean girl, Helaena had called her. She certainly looks the part but then again, all beautiful people do.

“Not really,” you admit, feeling your chest tighten.

“Me either,” she agrees, smiling softly, “Ellyn ditched me to hook up with Eddie Karstark behind the tilt-a-whirl. Can you believe?”

“That sucks,” you tell her. You hadn’t met Ellyn, but you’d seen her around the country club.

She gives you another small smile, following your gaze and landing on Aemond. Her smile drops as her lips form a tight line.

“Is he giving you the run around too?” she asks, looking back at you.

You can feel your cheeks warm with embarrassment.

“Something like that,” you admit, letting your eyes fall to your feet.

“I’m sorry,” Floris says, “Seriously. It fucking sucks.”

“It’s my own fault,” you tell her, “I made things messy.”

“Aemond makes things messy,” Floris insists, “I don’t think he can help it. He’s emotionally stunted.”

“I think you’re right,” you agree.

Floris grabs your hand.

“C’mon,” she says, tugging you along.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“Funnel cake,” she says, leading you through different booths, “We need funnel cake and then we need to shoot something. Or throw darts. Or both.”

You giggle and nod in agreement, letting her pull you along.

After eating all the funnel cake your body can handle and playing several rounds of balloon darts (something Floris is scarily good at) you make your way toward the Ferris wheel. It’s huge, the largest attraction at the carnival, with roomy compartments holding small groups of people.

Floris stops in front of it, glancing at you nervously. The change in demeanor makes your eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“What is it?” you ask.

Floris’s cheeks turn a bright pink as she sighs, wetting her lips.

“Have you….heard any rumors about Aemond and me?” she asks, “or Aemond and my sisters?”

No of course not, you think to yourself. Cause that would be crazy, an incestuous orgy of beautiful girls and the ethereal man who fucks like a god? No fucking way.

You’d tried very hard not to think about that.

“No,” you tell her, shaking your head, “What rumor?”

Floris seems unconvinced by your white lie.

“People are gross,” she says, cheeks still darkened with blush, “Look nothing happened. It’s just-” she sighs, “The Ferris wheel is a very romantic spot.”

“Okay,” you tell her.

She nervously chews her lower lip, batting her lashes up at the Ferris wheel.

“So Aemond invited me to ride with him last summer,” she says, shaking her head, “And he kissed me because guys do that when they take you on the Ferris wheel.”

A kiss. An innocent, sweet little kiss. That’s all it was. Your heart hammers in your chest thinking of Aemond asking Floris, the romantic gesture of it all.

“That’s really sweet,” you tell her, smiling.

“It was,” she agrees, “Until I found out he did the same thing with Cassandra, Ellyn, and Maris.”

Oh. Well, there it is.

“Well, I mean Maris didn’t end up kissing him,” Floris corrects herself, “But Cass and El did. And do you know what Aemond told me when I confronted him about it?”

You shake your head.

“He said I was the best kisser. And if I wanted to be friends with benefits for the summer, that would be cool,” she says, crossing her arms, “I was so naive. So fucking flattered that of course, I agreed. I mean, who says no when Aemond Targaryen says he wants to fuck you?”

She bites the tip of her tongue, as though reminiscing just what fucking Aemond entails before shaking her head.

“Aemond Targaryen holds his own private kissing contest, and now I’m stuck with the rumor I had an orgy with my sisters,” she groans, “Fucking perfect.”

Damn. You can’t help but feel bad for Floris. That’s a skeevy thing Aemond did. She’s looking up at the Ferris Wheel as though she wants to melt it with lasers shooting from her eyes. You’ve begun to like Floris over the course of this evening. She could’ve been rude to you, mean even. You were fucking her ex-situationship after all.

But instead, she’d seen you upset and spent the rest of the evening with you. It’s your turn to return the favor.

“Ferris wheel orgy,” you say, matter-of-factly, “If anyone believes that, they’re fucked in the head. Totally not enough room in those carriages for all that” You wave your arm around for emphasis.

Floris bursts out into a laugh, reaching to cover her mouth with her hand. You can’t help but laugh along with her. Floris Baratheon is a-okay in your book.

“It’s fucking ridiculous,” she says snickering, “Guys will believe anything.”

“They’ve got holes in their brains,” you assure her.

Floris continues to laugh, shaking her head and wiping tears from the corner of her eyes. It feels good to laugh with her and forget about the drama surrounding you for a moment.

“For sure,” she agrees, “Ugh. Do you want to go on? I promise no kissing, and no orgies.”

You laugh again at her joke.

“Sure,” you tell her with a smile.

You walk up to the operator of the Ferris wheel and hand him your last two tickets. Everyone has exited the Ferris wheel, so you get in the first compartment. You move forward scooting onto one of the benches as Floris digs in her purse.

“Shit, I’m out!” she says with a groan, “I’ll go grab more, be right back!”

She flies down the stairs, hurrying over to the ticket booth. You glance at the conductor, knowing you must be holding up the line.

“Do you mind waiting?” you ask.

The twenty-something-year-old looks as if he’d rather be diving headfirst off a cliff than operating this ride, but he sighs dramatically and nods at your request. You clasp your hands in your lap when someone else enters the compartment and sits in the seat across from you.

Aemond.

“Out,” you tell him, frowning, “Seriously, Aemond I thought I was clear.”

“We need to talk,” Aemond insists.

“We talked at Scoops, I have nothing left to say to you,” you insist, before changing your mind, “You know what? Actually, I do. Kissing Floris and her sisters? Really?”

You swear Aemond’s cheeks flush, and he glances away momentarily, before reaching out and snapping toward the attendant.

“$50 to send us up now,” he tells him, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a fifty-dollar bill.

Your eyes widen.

“Aem-”

“And $50 more to stop us at the top. Fifteen minutes, tops,” Aemond finishes, adding another fifty between his slender fingers.

The attendant’s eyes bug out of his head as he takes the money, shutting the door of the carriage.

“No!” you say, watching the attendant return to the podium, “No! Dude, what about my friend? We have to wait for her!” Your voice is several pitches higher than you like, but it's due to being alone with Aemond.

The attendant raises an eyebrow at you.

“Got fifty bucks?” he asks.

Your eyebrows lift in shock.

“No!” you squeak, panic bubbling in your throat.

The attendant shrugs, throwing the handle forward making the Ferris wheel begin to move. Your jaw drops as you slowly begin to ascend and watch in horror as Floris returns, her expression mirrors yours as she notices Aemond in the carriage with you. You clutch the edge of the compartment, leaning over the edge as you start moving farther from the ground.

“Asshole!” you yell down to the attendant before sinking into your seat and crossing your arms and legs.

Aemond sits silently, though you know he must be gleeful about getting you alone. The compartments below you are empty, you’ve been sent up alone.

“Y/N,” he says, but you don’t look at him.

You just look over the side of the carriage at the rest of the carnival as everything begins to grow smaller and smaller. You can see the country club, the golf courses, the tents being set up for the gala. The lights from Driftmark and Dragonstone are even visible in the distance.

“Y/N, I’m sorry.”

That gets your attention. You whip your head towards him, watching him leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. You still don’t speak. Too angry, too hurt, too humiliated to say anything. Your brows are knit together, lips pressed into a tight line. No tears tonight, you cried enough over him.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, “I never should have spoken to you that way, or said those horrible things. It was disgusting and inexcusable.”

Aemond wets his lips. The Ferris wheel comes to a stop as you reach the top, the compartment swinging gently with the force of the brakes. You uncross your arms, steadying yourself.

“I haven’t been that vulnerable with anyone in a long time,” he admits, “That’s not an excuse, believe me, that doesn’t excuse what I said, but I-” he runs a hand through his hair, struggling to find the words, “You were right.”

You want to remain silent as that violet eye watches you. Surely you can sit for fifteen minutes of silence. You cross your arms once more, trying to remain strong.

“About what?” you ask, cursing yourself.

The corner of Aemond’s mouth twitches, and something tugs in your chest as it does. You dig your nails into your bicep, trying to ground yourself. If you look at him too long, you’re afraid you’ll float away.

“About you growing on me,” he says softly.

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears. You don’t know when this started, really. But since the hot tub something changed. Something inside you clicked, and suddenly you can’t look at Aemond Targaryen without wanting to kiss him.

“I don’t like…feeling out of control,” he admits, lacing his fingers together, “And you make me feel…fucking crazy.”

You want to believe him. You do. But Floris is on the ground below, and she was in the same position you were. Believed Aemond cared about her. As Aemond’s walls begin to let some light in, you can feel your own going up.

“How am I supposed to believe that?” you tell him, arms still crossed, “You said it yourself, you fuck, you talk like that, but you don’t get feelings. It’s one of your rules.”

“I’m figuring out none of those rules apply to you,” he says, observing you carefully.

You shake your head.

“I don’t think I believe you,” you tell him, “I don’t know if I can believe you.”

“I haven’t been the best person,” Aemond admits, “I’ve hurt people because I was hurting. I don’t…I don’t want to hurt you.”

His fingers are laced together and he braces his forehead on his clasped hands.

“I can’t,” you tell him softly, “Aemond I can’t.”

You don’t want to get hurt. Don’t want him to hurt you more than he already has. If you let him in deeper, it’s going to be so much more painful than it already has been. Aemond looks up, resting his chin on his hands. His gaze is soft, and a breeze rolls through causing you to shiver.

“Let me show you,” he says softly, “Please. What can I do? I’ll do anything.”

Aemond’s hands are outspread, a pleading gesture. How could he prove himself? If he really wants to change, for the better.

“Apologize to Floris,” you say suddenly, “She deserves it. All her sisters do.”

“Done,” Aemond answers immediately.

“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly, “I don’t know if I want to do this with you anymore.”

“Let me show you how sorry I am,” he says, kneeling forward on the floor; the compartment shakes with the movement.

Your cheeks flush when you realize what he intends to do.

“Aemond-” you say as his hands brush over your thighs, pushing your dress up.

You look over the side of the compartment, eyes wide. You’re all the way at the top, looking over everyone else. No one can see, and yet you’re dangerously exposed at the top of the Ferris wheel. Adrenaline courses through your veins, and your heart beats wildly in your chest as Aemond’s fingers curl along your panties.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” he murmurs, dragging the fabric down. You lift your hips to assist him.

It’s almost unconscious, the way your body reacts to him. He plays your body like an instrument; every touch has you melting into him, bending to his wishes. Aemond removes your panties, placing them in his pocket for safekeeping. His violet eye watches you, waiting for what you say next. You bite your lip in desperation, trying to ignore the feeling of his hand under your ass, keeping your center propped off the seat.

He holds you with ease, letting his other hand slip under your opposite thigh. It’s driving you crazy. He’s driving you crazy.

“Y/N,” he says, voice a desperate whine, like it’s taking everything in him not to bury his face in your pussy.

You’re already wet, you can feel it. There’s no use, you can’t ignore the feeling in your chest, the desperate ache between your legs. You want him, you need him so bad you feel like you might go insane without his lips on you.

“Please,” he whispers, so low you almost miss it, “Please Y/N.” You can feel his hands trembling against you, as though he’s ready to snap.

“Yes,” you tell him, and with a desperate growl, he dips his head below your skirt.

His mouth glues itself to your dripping slit, tongue diving between your folds as you bury your hands in his hair. You sling your legs over his shoulders, desperate to push him deeper, and harder against you, especially as his tongue moves to circle your entrance.

“Fuck,” you mewl as the warm, wet muscle dips inside of you, and Aemond moans-fucking moans-as he moves it in and out.

Your heels are digging into his toned shoulders, nails raking against his scalp but if it pains him, Aemond doesn’t let it show in the slightest. He’s simply devouring you, groaning with every shudder and stifled moan you award him. With every movement of his head, his nose rubs pleasantly against your clit, sending waves of pleasurable warmth coursing throughout your body.

Aemond pulls away suddenly, his mouth shining with your arousal, as he brings his fingers to his mouth and begins sucking on them. He meets your eyes before dipping his head down again between your thighs, fingers replacing his tongue and stretching into you. He curves them upwards against your tender, spongy walls, and your spine arches off of the seat, mouth falling open in pleasure.

“Fucking missed this pussy,” he groans, lazily fingering you before bringing his mouth to the apex of your thighs.

His tongue swirls around your needy clit and you can feel your stomach tightening.

“Forgive me,” he murmurs, placing a kiss on top of your clit before swirling his tongue around it once more.

“That’s not fair,” you answer, breathlessly, “Oh my fucking-oh.”

You can feel Aemond’s smile against you, feel him flatten his tongue on your clit before rubbing steady circles with the warm muscle of his tongue. He strokes your sweet spoke with his fingers effortlessly, your legs trembling on his shoulders.

“Please,” he says with a groan, “Please, I can’t fucking stand it-”

“Oh!” your nails dig into his scalp as you clench around his fingers, your release barrelling through you.

Aemond slowly removes his fingers, pressing them between his lips and licking them clean before you grab him by the shirt collar pulling him towards you. Your mouth is on his in an instant and it feels like fireworks have gone off in your brain.

He kisses you ferociously, one hand grabbing the back of your neck and anchoring you against him; the other wraps around your waist, pulling you off the seat and holding you flush against him. Your legs are straddling him and you can feel how hard he is underneath you. You’re kissing him desperately, it's all clashing teeth and gasps as you press yourself against him harder. You can’t be close enough, can’t be held tight enough. It's not enough, not enough.

The Ferris wheel begins to move, slowly but surely beginning its descent and you pull away, gasping for breath. You’re both breathing heavily, so close you can feel the brush of his lips against yours with every exhale.

“I can’t stand it,” he whispers, voice breaking as he strokes the back of your head.

“I know,” you whisper back, kissing him softly.

You untangle yourselves from each other as the Ferris wheel comes to a stop, pushing yourself back onto the seat to avoid suspicion. Thankfully, your dress is long enough because there was no time to put your panties back on and you’d rather not have your bare ass on the seat of the Ferris wheel.

The attendant opens the door, none the wiser to what you and Aemond were up to in the middle of the air.

You exit the compartment on shaky legs, turning back to Aemond.

“Forgive me?” he asks, watching you.

“I’ll think about it,” you tell him, walking down to Floris, who is now holding a half-eaten fried Twinkie.

“Dude, that took forever,” she tells you, “What did you even talk about-”

“Floris,” Aemond calls, walking over.

Her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline, cheeks darkening as he approaches. But Floris Baratheon doesn’t back down. No matter how she feels about Aemond, she squares her shoulders and looks him directly in the eye.

“I owe you an apology,” Aemond begins, “For everything.”

Her chin tilts higher in the air.

“I was cruel to you when I shouldn’t have been,” he continues, “And I should have shut down those rumors when I heard them. I shouldn’t have treated you or your sisters that way in the first place and I’ll be telling them that as well.”

“Well Maris is in Oldtown,” Floris says cooly, “She stayed for the summer to do research.”

“Next semester then,” Aemond agrees.

Floris looks him up and down.

“Thank you,” she says and Aemond nods.

Her phone buzzes in her chest and she hands you her twinkie as she reaches between her boobs to grab it. She frowns.

“El needs rescuing,” she says, “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah,” you assure her, “I’m good, really.”

“I had fun tonight,” she tells you, “Let’s hang out again.”

“We could always use more help on Seasmoke,” you tell her.

“Cool, later Y/N,” she says, “Bye Aemond.”

As Floris leaves you turn to begin walking as well. Baela should be here by now and hopefully, Helaena has found her way down here. Aemond grabs your hand, stopping you.

“You won’t forgive me?” he asks.

“I said I’d think about it,” you tell him, still being cautious.

“Y/N-”

“Look, there’s something here,” you tell him, “Definitely, but…” I’m scared.

You can’t finish the sentence but you read it in his eye too.

“Go with me,” he says suddenly, “To the gala and the auction.”

“What?”

“As my date,” he says, “Be my date.”

“You don’t date.”

“I do now,” he argues, his voice insistent, “I date….I want to date you.”

He steps closer, taking your other hand. There’s that feeling again. Deep in your gut, pulling you toward him. A fire ignited within you, sparked by his touch.

“Come with me,” he says softly, “Please.”

You stretch up onto your tiptoes capturing his lips in a kiss. It’s the only answer you can give right now, but the only answer he needs.

OLS Taglist: @talesofoldandnew, @aemondslefteyeball, @urmomsgirlfriend1, @castellomargot, @high-on-darren-criss, @diosademuerte, @padfooteyes, @tempo-rary-fix, @amirawritespoorly, @chainsawsangel, @toodlesxcuddles, @tssf-imagines, @malfoytargaryen, @nina2697, @glame, @joliettes, @yentroucnagol

@grungegrrrl, @melsunshine, @helaenaluvr

@m1ndbrand, @herfantasyworldd, @sunna-fangirls, @carriellie, @elle4404, @fan-goddess, @jamespotterismydaddy @shessthunderstoms @carriellie @sunna-fangirls @dancingqueen0

bold means tumblr would not let me tag!

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yongislong · 1 year

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physical insecurities + dreamies.

genre: nct dreams fav insecurities on other people, fluff, angst if u squint and shake, suggestive? nonidol!dreamies but not specified tbh

note: i dont think there are any cws... i thought this would be a cute idea. none of these are things that i think people should be insecure about but rather things ive personally been insecure about and things that other people have mentioned make them insecure if that makes sense haha, lmk what you think, if i wrote something that sounds weird or could be taken the wrong way please let me know, not proofread

mark... stretch marks. thinks stretch marks are so cool, like actually thinks they're so hot. likes to trace them when you both watch a movie together, its so second nature to him. when you told him you didn't like them he was kinda lost. he's like 'what, dude you look like a painting." likes them especially when they're deep/dark but doesn't care where they are, likes them when you have them in places only you and him can see as well since it makes it more personal. heart eyes for you always and isn't corny about it, he makes you feel so hot about yourself deserved. encourages wearing whatever you want regardless of if it shows the marks because he'll always be there to hype you up. also likes that his name is in the name LOL

renjun... noses/side profiles. ADORES big noses and unique side profiles. tells you its a challenge for him to draw because he HAS to perfect you on paper. can't stop looking at you. traces his fingers on your nose all the time and loves when it's cold out and the tip of it gets all pink and reddish hehe. compares you to paintings all the time, its in his nature. once he meets you, he goes on a mission to try and perfect drawing your side profile even before you guys began dating. even going as far as to sit next to you in lectures just to be able to sneak glances at you LOL. nose pecks and boops all the time

jeno... plus sized people. TO ME i feel like plus size people are the joy of his life. hates when you're an adult and people either infantilize or sexualize you for being plus sized because like damn... it gets on his nerves lol. never thought it was that big of a deal other than the fact that he thinks you're a god among humans. just finds you so gorgeous and you're such a beautifully stark contrast from what he looks like, that its such a good balance in a sense of like everyone wants what they cant have, yknow? just loves feeling how smooth/curvy and soft you are??? he's obsessed with everything about you to be honest. never makes you feel fetishized or weird. #1 defender. takes couple pics by standing behind you and placing his palm on your lower stomach YALL KNOW WHAT IM TALKIN ABBTTT

haechan... crooked teeth. OH MY GOD thinks its literally the cutest thing ever. he didn't know you didn't like your smile until he caught on to how much you would cover your face whenever he would make you laugh. he would make it a point one day to tell extra jokes and catch you smiling so he could grip your wrists and pull your hands away from his face. takes this as an opportunity to GUSH about how much he loves the way you look when you smile and how cute your teeth are and how much you remind him of a bunny, or a certain animal hehe. WHEN YOU SMILE INTO KISSES?? he loses his mind. likes to pull up the corners of your lips whenever he's a bit sad because he claims seeing your pearly whites will recharge him haha

jaemin... round faces. GOSH, oh gosh he is obsessed. always pokes your cheeks and runs his thumbs on your cheekbones whenever he holds your face in his hands. likes it when you put on a lot of blush because it excentuates your face shape. LOOVES when you smile and your cheekbones lift up sm and you look so glowy yknow?? cheek pincher and squisher. oh my god i've said this before but he thinks you look so adorable when you wake up all puffy because it makes your cheeks and face 10x more round and soft. likes pulling your cheeks and taking off guard pics with your eyes shut tight, hand reaching for his to make him stop. does that thing where he sucks your cheeks with his mouth LMAOOO. you are his soft angel baby

chenle... acne. it doesn't matter where the acne is, he never minds it or makes you feel bad about it. likes helping you with your skincare and putting cute pimple patches on any marks or blemishes. he has acne too im sure so it's nice to be human, yknow. never understands why its an insecurity to you because he thinks its the least important thing about you. always tells you how having acne never makes you any less pretty. always encourages you to wear tank tops or clothes that may show body acne because he thinks it doesn't matter. and not in a bad way like he would never ever dismiss anything that would upset you, i think he would just try and make it a point that some acne is never gonna change how attractive you are to him. shoulder kisses always

jisung... thick thighs. ON MY SUNG THICK THIGH ADGENDAAA he loves them sm. likes playing with them like silly putty. doesn't matter if you have big thighs but hip dips, wide hips, flat butt, big butt, like he does not care he just loves your lower body in general lol. can get suggestive with it once you get closer in your relationship but also just likes poking and playing with the fat and skin on your upper thighs for funzies. runs his hands on your butt but so genuinely innocently lol. you are his best pillow. likes laying in between them while you do things. head on your stomach with your legs on either side of his head, runs shapes on the outer part of them with his fingers. knows how when he squeezes your legs with rings on, you jump from the cold metal, he thinks its funny lol

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buckychristwrites · 10 months

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About You | Day 12 | j.t.

Summary: Your job? Pop culture journalist for The Independent. Your assignment? To write a profile on the cocky footballer that you're publicly feuding with.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Cussing. Enemies to lovers

A/N: Please let me know what you think! :D side note, this gif is my fave thing that Jamie does in the whole show, im obsessed.

Masterlist | About You Masterlist | Main Blog

Smack.

With every newspaper that loudly hit, it was met with another jump from you, despite the fact that you knew they were coming. It had been a long morning, waking up early to catch the tube into the office, so you weren’t prepared for the loud noises this soon into the day, although you now knew more were to come. You stared at the headlines, reading each of them over and over again, as if you were trying to memorise them.

Tartt Seizes Mystery Girl’s Heart

Tartt Kiss: What We Know About The Footballer’s New Woman

Victory Celebration, Sealed With A Kiss

It was clear that the only reason the room was still silent was because a response from you was expected. You really didn’t know what there was to say. Scanning the words, you smacked your lips together before speaking.

“They’re not particularly clever.”

Your boss was whatever the exact opposite of enthused was, evident by his severe stare and the fact that he hadn’t sat down for a single second since you had entered his office.

“This funny to you?” He demanded, rotating his laptop to display an article that had your name and picture featured. An article you had already seen and gone through the 5 stages of grief over. “It’s funny that they know exactly who you are and why you were there?” You shrugged, a fire burning in your chest.

“They wouldn’t have known why I was there if you hadn’t posted the announcement of the profile without checking with me first.”

His round face was turning a bright purple, but you remained nonchalant. These meetings were so much easier for you to swallow when he made it so easy to argue. At the very least, it gave you the entertainment of seeing him so mad. This time, however, it felt different. You could feel it, and you know he did too. Leaning into his palms, which were pressed against the top of his desk, he towered over the newspapers. Despite the fact that there was still a decent amount of space between you and him, you still instinctively leaned away from him.

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

You didn’t look at him.

“I’m thinking that it was a football match, and excitement was high, and I’ve been spending a lot of time with Jamie Tartt, and maybe he wasn’t thinking very clearly.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. Although it definitely wasn’t entirely the truth, either. He began to nod as he grabbed his phone and began to type. A few seconds passed before he was sliding it across the desk to you.

“And what about that?”

Looking down, you saw the picture from Jamie’s instagram of you walking in his jersey, something you had totally forgotten about. A hot flash shot through you.

“I just borrowed some clothes. I walked to the stadium and it started raini-“ You stopped when your boss viciously waved you off.

“Don’t fucking disrespect me right now,” He said angrily, snatching his phone back. “Spotted wearing his clothes. Pictured exiting his car with him at the Charity Gala. What the fuck is the matter with you?” Your fingers were in your lap, pulling at each other. Even though you were telling the truth, there was no sense in continuing to defend yourself. His mind had been made up.

Within the hour of the match ending, you had received an email from your boss, telling you to come in for a meeting first thing in the morning. You took the tube in, which gave you plenty of time to settle your nerves. As much as you could, anyway.

Your boss began to yell about professionalism, and how you lacked it, while you thought of Jamie. No real conversation had occurred after The Kiss, as he got swept away by the team, and you found yourself being crowded by paparazzi and journalists as you tried to follow. It took two hours to go home, needing to take several detours to fend off the extra persistent ones. After that, you avoided your phone like the plague. It was blowing up with texts and calls from friends and relatives, asking if the pictures they were seeing were of you. Maybe there had been a text or two from Jamie as well, somewhere lost in the mix, but the fear of looking at your phone kept you from them. Instead, you had spent the night at home in solace, and worked on the article.

Your boss went silent for a while, pulling you from your thoughts. His fingers were white against the back of his chair, making you wonder when he moved there from the desk. Finally, he shook his head.

“I’m pulling you from the profile.”

Your spine straightened with the speed of a whip.

“You can’t do that,” You said in shock. He began to shake his head again, but you continued. “I did nothing wrong.”

“You did everything wrong,” He spat. “You couldn’t be fucking professional. Sleeping with the fucking person you’re writing on. Disgusting. I’ll email you when I decide who will take over, and you’ll send them your notes.” The urge to cry was creeping up your throat, but you swallowed it down.

“I won’t be sending anyone shit,” You told him in a firm voice. “I’ve been working on this for almost two weeks. Do you know how hard I worked to get Jamie to trust me? After everything I’ve said in the past?” At this, he laughed.

“Worked him real good, you did,” He said.

The comment felt like a strike to the face, and you leaned even further away from him. All you could see was red. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, his pleased smile only growing with each attempt to come up with something snarky or angry to say. A sort of acceptance washed over you as you knew what needed to be done.

“I fucking quit then.”

Now, the shock was on his face.

“You’re quitting over Jamie fucking Tartt?” He shouted as you rose from your seat. You contemplated this answer before looking at him again, your face blank.

“You’ve made me wish to quit over a lot less, if it makes you feel any better.”

The yelling immediately began to commence once more, but you were already closing the door behind you. It didn’t take long for you to empty out your desk, as you really didn’t bring a lot of personal items to work, and before you knew it, you were at the train station with a box of assorted belongings and a spot in the unemployment line.

The tube was mostly empty, just a few scattered people throughout the car. You took a spot in the back, setting the box in the space next to you while you sat against the window. As the train took off, you lost yourself in thought.

Where to go now? Over the years, you had yearned to move on from The Independent, much like Trent did, but had never bothered to try. Complacency and fear can really hold a person down. It was hard enough landing the job there, how hard would it be now to find a new one? Especially with the tainted reputation you now held? You absolutely couldn’t get any sort of reference from your old boss. Hell, he’d probably have you blacklisted from all major outlets before the day was out.

Looking at the empty seat that held your belongings, you were hit with deja vu.

You can lay on down if ya want. Grab a few winks.

His voice echoed through your mind, bouncing off the walls of the train car. Your head fell back against the seat. Your body ached at his absence. You missed him horribly, and were angry about the things you missed out on. That you didn’t spend the day laughing with him. That there were so many things left unsaid still. That you could still feel the ghost of his lips on your own.

You imagined him sitting next to you, and what he would say if he were there.

Fuck ‘em. You don’t need them. You’ll be alright, love.

Your heart lurched at the thought as you came back to reality, greeted by the sad, grey box that held your belongings. You closed your eyes. It wasn’t the same. It felt like nothing would be again.

But it had to be. Right?

Pulling out your phone, you went to call him to appease the yearning for his voice, but then froze. You didn’t want to call him. You wanted to see him.

You switched to another contact, typing and sending a message faster than your brain could process it. The response came quicker than expected, although you wouldn’t have been surprised if you hadn’t gotten one at all. A sigh fell from your lips as you stared out the window. Anxiety built in your belly, but you knew soon, it would all feel better. At least, you were hoping it would.

When you got off at your respective stop, you were determined as you rushed out. Your foot was on the first step to go up to the street when you paused. Turning, you ran to the first rubbish bin and threw the box on top. It didn’t quite fit, but you still left it. A few people gave you looks as you ran up the steps, some due to your strange behaviour, others because they recognized you from the pictures of you and Jamie in the press. You kept going.

You didn’t mean to run the whole way. But you did. Mostly due to the urgency you felt, but also partially because it was raining so hard that you felt like the streets would flood and carry you away. There was something cathartic about it. Maybe not to your heart, but to your mind. You slipped on the sidewalk a few blocks from the Underground station, almost falling straight into the cement had it not been for the lamppost next to you. It took a second to straighten up again, but once you were, you continued to run.

Within twenty minutes, you were walking down the residential street, rain continuing to pour. Your chest hurt from the running, as it wasn’t something you did with any sort of regularity. With every house you passed, you looked at the numbers on each one, searching for the one from the text. It was hard to see, with the rain and all, but you felt desperate enough, even going so far as to approach porches to properly read them.

It wasn’t the house number that alerted you to his house, however. It was his car, parked in the driveway. Your feet froze at the sight of it, remembering in vivid technicolor the rides you and him shared inside of it. The first one being under similar circumstances as you were in right now. The nerves were really building, as you stared the car and realised you were really at his house, and you wondered if you made a mistake. Wouldn’t it have made more sense to just return his calls? Instead of showing up, unannounced, in the pouring rain?

Am I stupid? You asked yourself. Am I actually insane?

But you still found yourself approaching the door, your feet moving as if they were being magnetically pulled forward. It was nice to finally be out of the rain. You thought of the box in the bin back at the tube station. Did someone else take the belongings for themselves? Or would it end up in the landfill? Not that it mattered now. It was filled with things you’d never need again.

You closed your eyes, thinking of the last two weeks. So much had happened. More than you ever would’ve predicted when you were given this assignment. And it all led to this moment, here, on Jamie’s porch, with you covered in rain water, heart full, and ready to share those feelings with him. After another brief moment to allow yourself to calm down, you lifted your hand and knocked one, two, three times on the door.

As the seconds passed, you felt your heart begin to race. Is he not home? Maybe he went out with the team? Or out to the shops? You knocked again, a little faster, more urgent this time. More time ticked by, and nothing happened. Tears sprang into your eyes. Was this a sign? You checked your phone, ignoring your growing inbox as you went to Jamie’s text thread. Nothing new. Stuffing the phone back in your pocket, you gave the door another sorrow filed look. Would another knock be enough?

No. Either he’s not home, or he doesn’t want to see you, you told yourself. It was that simple.

You all but ran back into the rain, your head down and your spirit crushed. The walk home wasn’t a far one, although you assumed that by how many times Jamie had walked over to your place. Over the sound of the drops hitting the sidewalk, you thought you heard the sound of footsteps, but that was confirmed when you heard someone yell your name from behind.

Jamie Tartt stood before you, already soaked from the storm. He looked a mixture of pleased and confused to see you. His hair was back in the usual headband, sporting a black hoodie and joggers.

“I was on the toilet,” He explained his delay, looking sheepish. You nodded, not caring for a single second what he had been doing. Just happy he was there now. Just you, him, the pouring rain and the bristling trees.

“They pulled me from the profile.”

His face fell immediately, and he took a step forward.

“Because of…?” He asked, trailing off. You nodded, causing him to pinch his chin between his fingers. “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have… I’m so sorry.” You shook your head at him, waving your hands in the same rhythm.

“Did you mean it?” You asked him. “The kiss. Did you mean to do it?”

He looked conflicted, like this was a test. Maybe he feared that you were asking in hopes that you could answer to get the article back. Or maybe he was worried that you regretted it terribly and wished that he did.

“Yes.” It was so firm, so definitive. “I don’t regret it at all. I’d do it again. And again. And again.” You smiled widely, convinced that you’d never stop smiling again.

“I quit.”

The curtain of rain didn’t hide the absolute shock that filled his face. You nodded.

“My boss implied that I slept with you to get you to trust me,” You explained. A beat passed and you tilted your head. “Actually, he just flat out said I slept with you to get you to trust me. So I quit. And I took all of my notes with me. So they’ll have to do everything over.” He ran a hand through his wet hair, shaking his head.

“I’m-” He stopped, his eyes squeezed shut as everything processed. “You…”

“I quit my fucking job for you,” You said, speaking loudly but slowly, so that nothing could be uncertain. You took a step forward. “I was miserable. I didn’t want to accept that, but I was.” You laughed, remembering how it felt to hate going into work. It felt like a lifetime ago, considering how happy you had been these last two weeks. “Then I got to interview you, and I remembered why I love writing and journalism in the first place. I quit my job so I can fucking kiss you whenever I fucking want to and not worry about what my boss has to say, or what people who have read my past articles about you have to say. Because I was wrong about you. I know that now.” You shrugged. “And maybe I’ll never get to write another article again, but I’ll get to kiss you, which I think is a good trade off.”

A long time passed where he just stared at you, wide eyes and chest breathing heavy. Finally, after letting you sit in agony for a second too long, he took three quick strides towards you, pressing his hands to your cheeks and his lips were against yours once again. Your eyes closed instantly as you faded into the kiss. It was different this time, with more passion behind it, but the adrenaline that filled you was the same. You put one hand on the back of his head, curling your fingers in his hair, your other hand balling the front of his shirt in your fist.

When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours. The rain was freezing against your skin, yet you were warm.

“It’s funny,” He mumbled to you. “I learned how to behave meself in public, and now you’re out of a job. You were right.” You immediately pulled your head away from his, staring at him with a look of disbelief.

“Are you choosing this moment to make fun of my unemployment?” You demanded, as he laughed. “This exact moment? Right now, you felt it would be the time? After I just said all that nice, romantic stuff to you?”

He kissed you again, and you could feel him smiling against your lips, his body shaking in silent laughter. You wished this moment would last forever. Just kissing in the rain while smiling and laughing in between. No other problems but getting too cold.

You broke the kiss this time, him leaning after you as if he wasn’t ready for it to end. A slight pout was on his lips, but he recovered quickly.

“How’d you get me address?”

“Got it from the highest bidder,” You said jokingly. He furrowed his eyebrows together, and you laughed. “I asked Roy.” His laugh seemed to fill the entire neighbourhood.

“He’d give me address to all the homeless men in London if he could, so I ain’t surprised,” He admitted. You scrunched up your face.

“I don’t like being compared to the homeless men in London.”

“No,” He said in agreement. “You’re much better.” Reaching forward, he brushed a chunk of wet hair back into place, his fingertips brushing against your forehead. His expression was tender. You were still in shock that this was happening at all.

You gave his lips another peck.

“If money were no object, what would be one thing you’d do?” He shook his head at you continuing your game.

“I’d spend the rest of me life with you.”

You bit the inside of your cheek.

“You don’t need any money for that.”

His eyes were staring into yours, twinkling despite the lack of light.

“We’re gonna need money for a hospital visit if we don’t get inside,” He said, grabbing you by your damp sleeve and dragging you towards the door. It made sense. There wasn’t a single part of you that wasn’t wet, and Jamie looked about the same.

“Well, I don’t know if you knew, but I’m not gonna have money for anything coming up soon,” You told him. “So if I would have to just die at that point.”

“Don’t worry, love,” He said as he opened the door, gesturing for you to go inside. “I won’t let anything happen to ya. Not ever.”

He shut the door behind you, and for the first time, in what felt like a long time, you didn’t need that reassurance.

You had already known he would.

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt fanfic #jamie tartt imagine

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