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#but yeah i love air i wish we got more of her :-(
temilyrights · 1 hour
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"all this to prove a point?" for the writing prompt
emily prentiss x reader
no warnings. no use of y/n or pronouns for reader.
sentence fic prompt
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You rub your hands together, trying your best to generate some heat in your body. Emily’s car, while lovely, did not provide the warmth of an suv on a usual stakeout and you were seriously regretting your inability to tell this woman no. 
“All this to prove a point?” You mumble, the humour fading from your tone the longer you sit in the cold car, the September air biting away at your fingers and toes. 
Emily sits with her camera pointed at Morgan’s apartment, a determined glint in her eye. “Better personal life than me, my ass. He came straight home and hasn’t left the building since!”
You roll your eyes, wishing desperately you were home, “Yeah but he’s also not wasting his evening stalking his friend.”
Emily lowers the camera and turns to face you, brows drawn together. “He can’t make accusations like that and not expect me to find proof.” 
“Well maybe if you focused a little bit more on yourself and a little less on him then you wouldn’t need to prove it and you’d have a private life he couldn’t argue with.”  
She scoffs, “What’s that supposed to mean?” 
Always so clueless.
You shake your head, annoyed, embarrassed, and frustrated by the woman in front of you. “I’m right here.”
Emily’s frown only deepens and you blow out a breath, “I invited you out for dinner tonight and instead we’re stalking Morgan and have completely missed our reservations. Every time I try to move us forward you find a way to shut it down.”
“Reservations? I thought you wanted to get take-out and head back to one of ours, like usual.” She says with genuine confusion. 
“No, I booked that nice Indian place you like.” 
“Oh,” She responds, dropping the camera firmly in her lap. 
“Look,” you sigh, “I just need to know, okay? Because maybe I’m just failing to get the hint and you’re really not interested but I thought we were going somewhere. I like you Emily.” 
“You like me? Tonight was supposed to be a date and instead I blew you off and made us sit and stake out Morgan.” She says slowly, words strangled.
“Yes.”
“Fucking hell.” She blows out a breath. The car is silent for a moment as she comes to terms with the news and then her gaze focuses back on you. “I’m so sorry. I will make this up to you. I’m taking you for the best date night starting right now.”
Your eyes widen, “Wait so that’s a-?”
She smiles, wide and happy, “Yes, idiot, I like you too. God, why else would I ask you to sit here with me?”
You can’t help but smile too. Head in the clouds as Emily puts the camera away and the keys back in the ignition. 
“Ready to go?” She asks, a playful smirk on her lips that your eyes linger on. 
“There’s just one thing first.” Because you can’t wait a moment longer. You’ve waited years. 
You lean over the centre console, hand cupping her cheek and pulling her towards you to meet you in the middle. Emily’s eyes darken instantly, her gaze dropping to your lips before they fall close and her lips softly meet yours. 
Your body hums, alive as your lips move tenderly against hers. A gentle whine escapes your lips and your body heats up as you regretfully pull away. 
“Mmmhmm,” Emily hums, lips well kissed and eyes dark. “We can definitely do that again.”
“Food?” You ask, voice strangled. Avoiding the knowing look in her eyes, suddenly shy. 
“Oh, babes, I’ve got the perfect place.”
taglist: @ry-kills-jemily @sapphic-stress @xrainydazeteax @mckennamayfairgoode @enduringalexblake @augustvandyne @themoontaxi @prentissology @alexbllake @ssa-sapphic @storiesofsvu
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plutolovesyou · 3 months
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Okay.. but like, loser ellie but she’s also a stoner and explains the entire lore of spider man to you while you’re trying to have seggs and she’s like stoned out of her mind and yapping about literally spider man 😭
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before you read!!
☆: THIS IS SO FUCKING FUNNY IM CRYING LMFAO had me dying for like 10 mins straight. this is longer than intended bc im a yapper as we know, and i kinda don't know much of the spiderman lore (and you can def tell oops)…BUT I LOVE THE WAY YOUR MIND WORKS NONNIE.
◇: sfw but suggestive themes. warning: FAR from my best work, just wanted to keep momentum going ig. basically just fluff, lots of buildup as usual SORRY i have to establish a plot before we get to the good stuff…they're of age obviously, their relationship is left vague/up for interpretation so fill in the blanks w/ your own thoughts! “babe” pet name usage, consumption of weed, duh. ok i suppose that's all. OH AND SBWM REFERENCE HAHAHA (shameless self plug :3) + 1.0k wc.
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One nice, regular night, chilling at Ellie’s humble abode, getting high, the usual Friday evening activities. You both were laying down in her bed, wrapped up in her dinosaur bedsheets of course, you were resting your head on her chest, occasionally coughing and swatting away the residual smoke that lingered in the air.
The weed had made your head fuzzy and your mouth drier than the Sahara desert, but despite all the not-so-great things, you loved to get high with Ellie.
Sometimes you'd fuck, sometimes you'd talk about life and reminisce about the good, the bad, and the ugly, and sometimes you'd just lay there to enjoy each other's company.
She was so warm and comfortable, you simply wished to merge bodies and become one with her, to make a home inside her ribcage even. You'd be perfectly fine just napping there on her cushiony chest, listening to her steady heartbeat and slow intakes of breath, if it wasn't for the familiar ache of need between your legs.
Shifting to look up at her, she was so incredibly zooted out of her mind, you found it hilarious. Chunky glasses covered in fingerprint smudges and sitting crooked atop her nose, eyes blood-red and so heavy lidded, you'd have thought she was asleep had you not taken a closer look.
You lifted yourself up and pressed your lips to the side of her pink cheek, repeatedly kissing her soft, smooth skin. She let out a husky giggle, her voice all hoarse and crackly from the substance. “Hiiii.”
She dragged out the vowel, grinning widely at you. Her smile was infectious, and you laughed at her state. Burying your face again in the crook of her neck, you mumbled, “Hi Ellie…you're so cute.”
Tangled up together, you kissed her some more on her neck, wanting to be as close as possible to her. She sighed, and angled her head to give you better access to more surface area. “That feels nice.” She'd slur, and you were pretty turned on at this point, to say the least.
It was worth asking. “Ellie…do you wanna fuckkk?” You whisper against her ear, and watch in delight as the bright-red blush spreads across her entire face like a wildfire, even reaching her collar, and spreading underneathyour shirt. “Um, yeah, duh. C’mere.”
You pressed a sloppy kiss to her lips, tangling your hands in her auburn locks and parting your puffy lips to invite her tongue in, not noticing the spit dribble down your chin where your faces met. Her breathing quickened immediately, and she whined into your mouth, the kisses getting even messier to the point where your teeth were clinking together, so you backed away for a breather.
The two of you shifted positions so she was now on top of you, resting her hand on your hip, thumb rubbing small circles. She moved in to initiate more lip-locking, but pulled away abruptly.
“Babe I forgot to tell you, so y’know Peter Parker, right?” And there she goes.
“Yeah, yeah I know him, can you just-” You try to rush past the beginnings of her rambling, because you knew once she got started, there was no end in sight. At least for a while.
You tried pulling her in to meet your lips again by the back of her head, but were met with lots of resistance. She seemed to look more alert now, a miracle. The power of superheroes!
She shuffled off of you and sat upright, assuming a cross-legged position, clearly not noticing your exasperated huffs and purposely obnoxious eye rolling, and the fact that there was a whole-ass human, half undressed, horny girl on her bed right there in front of her, who was slowly losing patience.
Ellie just went to her own world. Her eyes sparkled with passionate wonder as she thought about the series so dear to her heart. “Okay I rewatched all the movies a few days ago and I noticed something new…”
You were ready to give up what you originally had in mind, she was too far gone. She talked and talked endlessly, and you had to feign interest, nodding along and murmuring, “Mhm, yeah Els. Wow that's cool. Huh, never knew.” As enthusiastically as you could, so she didn't feel like she wasn't being listened to.
It was worth noting too though, when she started info-dumping about her interests she really was adorable, an excitement in her grassy eyes you never see otherwise, gesturing wildly with her hands and mapping out ideas to make it easy for someone who's never seen any of it to digest all this new information.
“...And then, in the movies Into the Spiderverse and Across the Spiderverse, there's this character called Gwen Stacy.”
She stops to cough and clear her throat, now seemingly appearing to completely forget that you were even there.
“And- oh yeah! She's also in the comics and ugh she's awesome, I really love her suit. It's got a hood on it…if I were to have a spider suit, it would be her style. Hm, it would also be mostly like, green…with red accents, ah I'm gonna show you all the sketches I made of it. But anyway…”
To be completely honest, you've been out of the mood for enough time now, and you've come to the realization that it actually didn't bother you.
This was Ellie, and you loved her for her! There was always next time you two met for a smoke session, you just loved spending time with someone so treasured such as her, and you'd be lying to say the Spiderman world wasn't a little interesting.
"That's so cool, wait. Okay can you explain the timeline of it all, oh and also how do all these different movies interact, is it the same universe, or something like the multiverse I think you mentioned?”
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f1boistrash · 4 months
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i have a name | l.s
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a/n: so this is an idea i had after the miami gp and its been stuck in my head so im finally writing it. there is some slight jos slander and reader is max's sister
summary: y/n verstappen drives for f1 academy. they find comfort in a certain american when the media gets too much
Your whole life you've always been Max's sister. You didn't hate your brother for it because it wasn't his fault. You hated the world for being so small minded. You hated your dad for not caring. His words stuck in your head like a broken record. 'You're overreacting Y/N. It's not a big deal. You need to grow up.'
But it was a big deal because why couldn't they be bothered to learn your name. Your accomplishments throughout your career always amounted to 'Max's sister' it was never 'Y/N Verstappen'. You were sure if they could your trophies would say that too.
Going into the F1 Academy you thought it'd be different. You were excited when you got the call. The first person you told was Max and he was even more excited than you, if that was even possible. You were at the forefront of the series, watching young girls across the world become interested in the sport you loved. Something you wished you had growing up.
The driving was great. The team was great. Everything was great except the media. Its the one thing you dreaded stepping into the spotlight more. You tried to develop a thick skin like your brother but it was difficult when you constantly got picked at.
"So, Y/N, great day today. You qualified third. How was it?" The interviewer asked.
"Yeah it was great. Obviously we'd prefer P1 but we're still happy with the result and looking forward to pushing it even more tomorrow." You replied, grinning at your result. It might not be front of the grid but you were still proud.
"Your brother Max had a phenomenal season last year. Can we expect the same this year?" And there it was. Your first interview of the weekend and it only took one question before they asked you about your brother. Normally you didn't mind talking about Max's accomplishments. You were so unbelievably proud of him. It's when they start talking about him when they should be asking you about your race and your season that you get annoyed.
You plastered on your fake smile, hoping no one saw the disappointment flash across your face. "It's hard to say what this year will bring but what I do know is that Max will give it his everything. Whatever happens though I'm still proud of him."
Before anymore questions about Max could be asked your manager made a sign that time was up. You thanked the interviewer and left the media pen. She gave you a run down of tomorrows schedule as you were now finished for the day. Your manager didn't need to ask if you were okay because she knew you weren't. Working with you for a few years meant she had learnt all your tells.
You thanked her for today before parting ways, leaving you alone. The night air was brisk but welcoming. You shut your eyes and sighed enjoying the silence. You were supposed to be meeting Max tonight yet you couldn't bring yourself to move. Not wanting to face him just yet.
It was late and you weren't expecting many people left at the grid. Especially the F1 drivers which was why you jumped when a voice broke the silence. "Y/N right?" Logan said, your stomach fluttered when you looked at him. You have never really spoken to Logan before, only seeing him in passing but you always thought he was cute. He also called you by your name and not 'Max's sister' which was a welcomed surprise, used to his friends calling you that. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."
"It's fine, just wasn't expecting anyone to be left at the track." You told him. You took in his appearance under the setting sun. He was in his Williams uniform, his hair slightly tousled from wearing his hat all day.
"Yeah, I was just heading out. Had to do a few tweaks before tomorrow. What are you doing here late?" He asked.
"Media." You grimaced. Logan laughed, understanding your reaction.
"That bad huh?"
"Yep." You nodded. "Talked about Max the whole time."
The two of slowly started walking towards the car you have rented this weekend. It was one of the few left in the parking lot. "Seriously? That's so shit." Logan said, shaking his head. It wasn't out of pity though, more like anger.
"You get used to it." You shrugged.
"You shouldn't have to though." He told you, pulling you both to a stop. His eyes, looking at you intensely making you nervous. "You were incredible out there today and I'll definitely be watching tomorrow as you get your first podium of the season."
"Wait, you watched qualifying?" You asked, surprised.
"Don't tell my trainer though." Logan grinned, winking at you making you laugh. It was a sound he could get used to.
"Well thank you Logan. It means a lot." You thanked him, coming to a stop when you reached the drivers seat door.
"You have a name, Y/N. Your not just Max Verstappen's sister and I hope you know that." He said, earnestly.
You don't know what came over you but you found yourself leaning up, pressing a kiss on Logan's cheek. "Thank you."
-x-
"You're late." Was all Max said as you walked through your hotel room door. You kicked off your shoes, walking further into the room seeing your brother lying on your freshly made bed scrolling on his phone.
"Don't you have a sim race or something?" You asked, shoving his feet off your bed trying to change the subject because what else can you say? The reason you were late was the slight breakdown you had about the interview and then you bumped into Logan. You couldn't exactly tell Max that.
He playfully stuck his middle finger up at you, knowing you were making fun of him. "How was your day anyway? Excited for tomorrow?"
"Yeah it was good." You lied. You liked that Max was oblivious sometimes because it meant you didn't have to talk about what people said about you. However, you also hated his obliviousness because sometimes you wanted your brother to comfort you. "Hopefully people won't get sick of the Dutch national anthem." You grinned at Max who laughed loudly.
You asked Max about his day and he told you about how confident he was with this years car, excited to see what he can get out of it. He carried on talking as you got out of your team uniform and into some comfy clothes when he quietened down.
"When were you going to tell me?" Max asked when you exited the bathroom. "About what the interviewer said?"
"It's fine Max." You said, avoiding his gaze on you by putting your clothes away. You were afraid if you looked at him the dam would break.
"It's not fine, Y/N." He huffed, his voice raising out of anger. It wasn't aimed at you though, Max would never raise his voice at you. "It was so unprofessional. Not to mention the commentators today couldn't even be bothered to learn your name. I'm going to do something about it."
Max's reaction reminded you of Logan's. You didn't think anyone would care this much. Especially someone who you never really had a conversation with before. You knew it was pointless to ask Max to leave it alone so you didn't bother. "Just please don't do anything stupid."
"When have I ever done that?" Max asked and you laughed. You would run out of fingers if you counted all the times Max did something stupid.
It was getting late and you and Max said your goodbyes, leaving you alone once again with your thoughts. Instead of the video on repeat in your head it was Logan's words. You reached over for your phone and unlocked it, going straight to instagram to find Logan's profile. You hit follow before going to his dms.
Y/N:
Thank you again for tonight.
His response was quick making your stomach flutter.
Logan:
You don't need to keep thanking me Y/N
Y/N:
I know
I enjoyed talking to you tonight
So thank you for your company 😊
Logan:
I enjoyed talking to you too 😊
I hope we can do it again some time
You were sure you were grinning like an idiot but you didn't care. You had fallen for the American and hard.
Y/N:
I would love to ☺️
Good luck for tomorrow Logan 💙
Logan:
Good luck Y/N 😊
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luveline · 4 months
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coworker James being protective of reader like she’s just a sweet and kind thing and he’s FINALLY accepting his feelings and reader gets like happy that he cares?
“No, no, it’s okay. Yeah, don’t worry about me, I’m just gonna watch movies all weekend. I might make popcorn. Yeah! Don’t worry about it, just have fun, okay?” 
You’re talking quietly but not without pep, hushed to avoid disturbing him. By the sounds of it, your plans for the weekend have bombed. You’re taking it remarkably well. 
“Okie dokie. Well, I’ll see you soon, yeah? Love you. Bye.” You don’t lift your head where you’re laying against the desk, but you put your phone gently by your keyboard. 
“That blows,” James says. 
“Maybe.” You turn your face to see him, before you lift yourself up and return to the pack of biscuits you’ve opened. “Do you want some?” you ask, bringing a malted milk to your mouth. 
“Please.” 
You gesture for him to take one. In relative quiet, you and James sit there chewing, the sunlight from the open window on your hands. 
“You’re not upset about your plans?” he asks. 
“A bit, but… I don’t want her to feel bad for me. She should have a good time, she got last minute tickets to see a band and she loves them. We can just hang out next weekend.” You push the biscuits toward him. “I need to stop eating these all the time.” 
You stand up and do a big stretch, arm arched over your head before you laugh and point at him. He’s never had someone look at him like this. “Pretend you didn’t see that,” you say, raising your eyebrows just a touch. 
You’re being playful. James’ stomach flips. “I didn’t see a thing,” he says. 
You drop your pointing. “Really?” 
He covers his eyes. 
Your following laughter is even richer. 
“This office makes me tired. I’m going to make some coffee before lunch is over,” you say. 
You walk away like nothing happened. James is left to ruminate. 
He pushes a hand into the crop of his hair and ruffles it, stressed, though the scratch of his nails against his scalp relieves some tension. James is used to being annoyed at you, you were always so irked with him, but lately he struggles to find anger for you. He still loves to tease you and watch your eyes change; there’s no better moments than on the mornings he’s here first and he’s found a new hiding place for your mug, and you’re forced to ask him where it is he put it. Asked is kind, really. More aptly, you demand to know where it is, and promise professional retribution. 
You could always drink from a different mug, but James has a feeling you like asking. This morning, you found it by yourself, and you put it smugly on your desk with steam rising from the surface. “You’re getting worse,”
you’d said, and that smugness suddenly felt friendly. Your smile was ten different shades of sweet. 
You are… quite sweet. You’re kind. You don’t let much upset you that isn’t James, even when it should. And the James stuff is all superficial. When was the last time you guys argued over something that mattered?
Which isn’t to say he doesn’t love arguing with you. But he’s coming to appreciate another side of you, the side that comes back to your desk with a fresh coffee and little happy breath of air when you see he’s made his two figurines cuddle each other. 
“They’re in love,” you say dreamily. 
“You can be so lovely,” James says. It’s like something takes over his body. 
You put your coffee down. “What?” you ask, smiling as though it’s a joke you don’t get. 
He’s not sure he should say it again. “I don’t know. When you smile, you’re really pretty. Like, even more than usual.” 
“Ha-ha.” 
“No, I’m serious.” 
“I don’t believe you.” 
James takes one of your biscuits. “Then don’t, it doesn’t bother me.” He wishes he hadn’t said it, what a weird thing to say, but he can’t pretend he was kidding, it would be crueller than saying nothing. So he wedges a biscuit in his mouth and laughs when you call him gross, your facade one he doesn’t believe. You wrinkle your nose, but you’re happy underneath it. 
Lovely, even. 
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mywritersmind · 6 days
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SAVIOR - LN4
pt.2
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summary : Y/n’s favorite place has quickly become her and Lando’s shared hallway. They grow closer and finally make it to the fresh air.
OG SUMMARY (When y/n’s absent neighbor shows up, causing her great annoyance with smoke and repetitive beeping, she marches over to tell the man off but is met with a handsome face and strong hands that are in distress.)
listen up : no warnings!! y/n is clueless abt f1. lando is silly. i’m craving strawberries now.
word count : 1878
⋆。‧˚⋆
I haul my five grocery bags into the elevator, struggling to keep them all off the ground. I sigh when I finally still in the metal box, i’ve carried these at least two blocks and one had broken on the way.
The doors are about to close but a hand slides in between them, making them automatically open for him.
Hello my hot mysterious neighbor.
He looks relieved he made it, “Y/n!” He says cheerfully, like we’ve known each other for ages. It’s been a couple weeks since I slammed on his door and stomped through his kitchen.
The other side of the hallway had been quiet until last night when I heard keys rattling and the door opening. I can’t help but wonder what he does that keeps him from home so often.
“Lando, Hi!” I smile back as he slides beside me and presses our floor.
“You need help?” He eyes the bags as I bite my lip, not wanting to bother him. I don’t have the time to respond because he takes three bags out of my hands like it’s nothing.
“Thank you.” I sigh, “I’ve been struggling for like two blocks.” He laughs a bit with me as the numbers get higher and higher.
“I’m happy to help.” We finally reach our floor, Lando watches me go first and walk to my door, unlocking it and walking in.
Lando follows hesitantly, like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed.
“Thank you again! I put myself in a bit of a bind when I decided that my friends need fifteen types of salami and cheese.” I place the bags on the counter, Lando following.
I push back my hair and suddenly wish I had cleaned up a bit more. My friends are coming over tonight and I had decided to push back my cleaning. Looking around at the clothes and old popcorn bowls scattered around makes me want to slap myself.
“Really, I like to lend a hand! I never get to be neighborly.” He shrugs.
“What do you do for work? If you don’t mind me asking?” I start placing the cold items in the freezer.
He leans against the counter, his arms holding him up and looking alarmingly fit, “Uh… You ever follow Formula 1?”
I nod, “Kinda? I used to love it!” My mom and I would watch every sunday but I stopped in college so I don’t know any of the current grid, “So you work in the sport! That’s cool, pretty hands on?” I ask as he laughs a bit, looking awkward.
“Yeah, I work with the cars.” He looks around my place a bit, “So, why does one need this much food? I’m judging or anything it’s just… You don’t seem like the type to need a jumbo sized pretzel bag.”
I smile and snatch the bag from him, “I could definitely eat all of this by the way! But I'm having a bit of a party tonight. If anything’s too loud just let me know! It’s just old friends from college- actually.” I look up at him, a boost of confidence appearing in me, “You could join us. If you’re not busy.”
It suddenly sounds like a ridiculously stupid idea. I turn back to the fridge, placing a bottle of lemonade in it and cringing.
“I would love to.” I let out a sigh of relief, “But I've got plans…” I frown and turn back to him, finally putting away the last of my groceries.
“Aw.”
“It’s really nice of you to invite me.” I smile, a bit sad and confused why I'm disappointed. I mean I barely know the man. “What do you do for work?”
I lean against the counter so I'm across from him, “I’m a writer. Journalism right now but I really want to take a more bookish route…”
He genuinely looks so intrigued, more interested than anyone else who I've told I write articles about neighborhood drama.
He checks his watch, which I'm now realizing is incredibly expensive, and swears, “I gotta go. Have fun with your party tonight.”
⋆。‧˚⋆
I definitely do have fun. My friends and I eat, drink, and play board games just like we’re back in dorms. I’m seeing my last and closest friend off when Lando comes up the hallway, As my friend's eyes go wide when she sees him, I shake my head.
“Goodbye!” I push her out of my apartment, “Love you!”
“Yeah love you too! Text me!” She walks past Lando, nodding at him before she turns behind his back and mouths ‘he’s hot’.
I roll my eyes at her, a smile still on my face as Lando looks at me. He’s in a full suit, holding his blazer in his hand.
“Fun time then?” God he’s hot!
“Absolutely!” I giggle, a bit tipsy, “How about you then?” I eye his suit.
“As good as I could make it.”
I slap my hand over my mouth, “God you aren’t coming from a funeral then, are you?”
He laughs at this, “No! No. A work banquet thing.”
I giggle a bit as he turns to his door, “Hey!” I say without thinking, “Would you want to come in? I have wine.”
He’s sitting on my couch thirty minutes later, a glass deep and talking about where he’s traveled too.
“That’s my dream!” I say, my feet tucked under myself as I tilt my head on the couch cushions, “Traveling. I mean- You’ve been everywhere!”
He shrugs, sipping his wine, his tie undone and shoes off, “It’s amazing but I'm not there for long so I don’t usually get to sightsee much. Honestly the most interesting thing that’s happened to me recently is this pretty girl came to save my baking disaster.”
I hum to his words, blushing a bit, “Sounds like a hero if i’ve ever heard one.” We both go silent, taking pieces of my leftover charcuterie board. “Should I start watching F1?”
“No!” He says it so quick that i’m taken aback.
“No?”
He laughs a bit, shaking it off, “It’s boring. I can’t have someone else in my life talk about it.”
I spin my wine around in the glass, “So I'm someone in your life now?”
He smirks, “We’re friends, aren’t we?”
I pretend to contemplate this, “I’ve never had a friend who hasn’t gone to the strawberry market with me.”
He makes an odd face, “So we must go then.”
I sigh, “If you want to be my friend…”
The corner of his mouth pulls, “Tomorrow at 9?”
⋆。‧˚⋆
He’s at my door at 9:12. Thank god he’s late because I hop over to the door, pulling on my shoe and pulling down my jean skirt.
I open the door and stand up straight, smiling breathlessly. He, of course, looks perfect in jeans and an olive green shirt, “Morning.”
“Ready to taste the best strawberries you’ve ever had?” I grab my bag and keys.
“So ready.”
We make it to the market just on time. It’s my favorite neighborhood gem. Every Sunday people gather with strawberries. There are big and small, some covered in chocolate and some in honey.
I buy a box of chocolate ones, well Lando does. He insists that he still owes me. Handing one to Lando with an extra fork, he bites into it, his eyes roll, “Fucking hell.” I nod, excited that he likes them as much as I do.
“My favorite treat! Something you can’t burn your house down with.” I eye him and he eyes me right back. Being with Lando is like a breath of fresh air. I’ve never been so confident in my social skills.
He laughs with a shop owner as he buys his pack of plain strawberries. He's so nice and just listens politely as the woman goes on and on about her childhood on a strawberry farm.
He gives her a bigger bill than necessary and as she insists it’s too much, he just shakes his head and continues walking.
We settle at a park bench nearby, tasting all the pieces we’ve bought, “This is genuinely phenomenal.” He says while eating another, “How’d you find this place?”
“Had to write about something local and had total writers block… I was walking around one day and just sort of stumbled upon it.”
He smiles, I really like this smile. “You seem like the type to just stumble upon a strawberry market.”
I laugh, covering my mouth, “What does that even mean?”
“You’re just so…” His hands make these weird gestures, his fingers moving around as he laughs and gives up, “It just fits.”
I smile, meeting his eyes. They're so nice, a mix of blue and green. His gaze washes over me and I feel the need to smile even more.
“You’ve got nice eyes.” My stomach twists as he says it so calmly, “Real pretty.” I feel a blush on my cheeks and I turn away from him, looking at the park near us and being startled by the child looking up at us.
Lando follows my gaze, mumbling softly, “Shit.”
“Hi.” The kid says awestruck, I look to Lando who’s smiling and sitting up straighter. “Um- Are you Lando Norris?”
Lando scratches the back of his neck, “Yeah I am! What's your name?”
“W-William!” He says, swallowing and pulling a pen from behind his back, “Could you sign this?” I glance to what looks like his mother, she’s watching him with a smile.
Lando simply nods and takes the cap from his head, its bright orange. He signs his name and messes up the kid's hair, “Thanks a lot! My friends’ll never believe it!” The boy squeals and runs back to his mom who waves slightly and takes the boy's hand.
I raise a brow at Lando, still confused, “I’m sorry…” He looks embarrassed but I don’t even know what for.
“I’m going to assume you didn’t tell me the whole truth in what your job is?”
His cheeks get a bit red, “I do work with the cars… Just really close. Like I’m in them. One specifically.”
I nod, “Yours?”
“Mine.” He crosses his arms, his lips in a thin line, “I drive for McLaren.” I breathe out.
“Oh.” I can’t help but think I have a type because I grew up with Jenson Button posters on my wall.
He runs a hand through his curls, “I don’t usually get recognized around here- Thought we would be okay.”
“We are okay!” I reassure him, realizing he’s actually embarrassed, “That was sweet.”
He looks up hopefully, “You think? I’m sorry for lying- I just really liked that you didn’t know who I am or what I do.”
“Well, I sort of still don't. I know your full name now, that’s about it.” He smiles at this, I bite into another strawberry.
“Do you want to go out with me?”
He is yet to say something I'm not shocked at.
“Yeah.” I nod, smiling at him as he grins, “I’d really like that. Don’t you have to race soon though…? Singapore, isn’t it?”
The smirk that pulls at his lips is just plain mischievous, “I never said the date would be here.”
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its-avalon-08 · 2 months
Text
why did you leave me (cl16)
part3!
multipart story! prev || next
summary : charles and y/n have always been best friends. but y/n has been in love with him forever. when charles starts dating a new girl, out of respect y/n distances herself. but how much is too much?
✦ pairing - charles leclerc x female reader
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Charles sat on his couch, scrolling through his phone, his heart feeling unusually heavy. Camille was sitting next to him, engrossed in her own world. He had tried to ignore the gnawing feeling that something was missing, but it was becoming impossible to ignore.
"Hey, Camille," he said, trying to keep his voice light. "Do you want to watch that new movie tonight? The one with all the great reviews?"
Camille looked up, her expression indifferent. "Sure, I guess. But I was thinking we could go to that new club instead. It's supposed to be really exclusive."
Charles forced a smile. "Yeah, we can do that."
As Camille continued talking about the club, Charles' mind wandered to Y/N. He missed how effortlessly they used to hang out, how they didn't need to impress each other or go to fancy places to have a good time.
A memory flashed in his mind: he and Y/N, curled up on the couch, watching an old black-and-white movie. She had insisted on watching it because it was a classic, and he had reluctantly agreed. But by the end, he was hooked, and they had spent hours discussing the film’s nuances.
"Y/N, how do you always find these hidden gems?" he had asked, genuinely impressed.
She had laughed, her eyes sparkling. "It’s all about the story, Charlie. You just have to give it a chance."
He glanced at Camille, who was now talking about which outfit she should wear to the club. He tried to engage, but his heart wasn’t in it. He missed Y/N's spontaneous adventures, the way she always made the simplest moments feel extraordinary.
Another memory surfaced: their late-night drives with the windows down, singing along to their favorite songs at the top of their lungs. They never needed a destination; the journey itself was the adventure.
"Remember that time we got lost and ended up at that little diner?" he had said to Y/N, laughing.
Y/N had grinned. "Best pancakes ever. Totally worth it."
Charles sighed, feeling a pang of longing. He looked at Camille, who was now busy on her phone, and he felt a sharp contrast. He tried to shake off the feeling, but it lingered, growing stronger with each passing day.
Later that evening, as they were getting ready to go out, Charles' phone buzzed. He glanced at it, hoping it was Y/N, but it was just a notification. He realized he hadn’t heard from her in days. The absence was like a void, growing wider and more painful.
"Camille, have you noticed that Y/N hasn’t been around much?" he asked, trying to sound casual.
Camille shrugged, not looking up from her mirror. "Maybe she’s just busy. People get busy, Charles."
"Yeah, I guess," he replied, but his heart wasn’t convinced.
He remembered the countless times Y/N had dropped everything to be there for him, whether it was to celebrate a victory or console him after a loss. Her presence had been a constant in his life, a source of comfort and understanding that he now realized he had taken for granted.
"Do you want to invite her tonight?" Camille asked, her tone slightly annoyed.
Charles shook his head. "No, it’s okay."
As they arrived at the club, the noise and the crowd felt overwhelming. Charles found himself wishing he was anywhere else, preferably in a quiet corner with Y/N, sharing a deep conversation or a comfortable silence.
He excused himself and stepped outside, needing some fresh air. The night was cool, and he leaned against the wall, pulling out his phone again. He stared at Y/N’s contact, his thumb hovering over the call button.
Another memory hit him: the time Y/N had sensed he was feeling down and showed up at his door with his favorite ice cream and a goofy movie to cheer him up.
"You know me too well," he had said, his heart warming at her thoughtfulness.
"That’s what best friends are for," she had replied with a wink.
Charles sighed, feeling a deep ache in his chest. He missed her so much it hurt. He realized that Camille didn’t understand him the way Y/N did, and he felt a growing sense of frustration and loneliness.
When he returned to Camille, she was dancing with a group of friends. She waved him over, but he hesitated. The distance between them felt insurmountable, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that something fundamental was missing.
That night, as he lay in bed, his thoughts were consumed by Y/N. He knew he had to do something, but he didn’t know what. All he knew was that he couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine when his heart was screaming for the one person who had always been there for him.
And with that, he made a decision. He would talk to Y/N, find out what was going on, and try to fix whatever had gone wrong. Because losing her completely was something he couldn’t bear to face.
taglist : @hiireadstuff @starz4me1 @f1fantasys @aundercover @ohthemisssery @ggaslyp1 @hadids-world @matcha---matcha @f1luvrur @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @timmychalametsstuff @janeh22 @ironmaiden1313
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angelicdanvers · 9 months
Text
BRACELETS | luke castellan.
pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader
summary: y/n finds herself a friend to celebrate her special day with. takes place before the lightning thief. luke & y/n are the same age. wc: 1.9k key: n/n = nickname
taglist: @repostingmyfavs @rinisfruity14 @soobin-chois | pm or comment to be added <3
a/n: merry christmas to those who celebrate!! this goes out to all my loves who just wish for one person to embrace them and spread happiness <3
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sixteen.
it was finally y/n’s sixteenth birthday, and once again, not a single person to celebrate with. being a child of demeter was sweet, everyone was kind all around, but y/n simply couldn’t find her people.
she got along with everyone, no one had anything against her. sure, older kids would pick on her from time to time, but that was an automatic agreement she signed when joining camp two years ago.
she just couldn’t develop as strong of a bond with anyone. she’d sometimes fall asleep with silent tears, wondering if she was broken or missing something key. if everyone was nice, why couldn’t she trust? form a relation?
the night wielded a nice breeze, wafting through y/n’s locks as she sat by the strawberry fields, playing with the leaves. a slight glow emitted from her fingertips as she trailed them along the soil, a small smile on her lips. 
glancing towards the amphitheater, she could see those her age dancing and singing, having the time of their lives. the younger kids had dispersed due to curfew, she noted. 
they all seemed to be in glee.
snapping her eyes shut, she fought back the intrusive thoughts and inhaled a sharp breath. opening her eyes, y/n grabbed some of the soil, stacking it into three layers. grabbing a strawberry, she delicately placed it atop and pulled away to admire her makeshift cake.
“happy birthday, n/n — happy sweet sixteenth,” she said loud enough just for her to hear. looking up at the glimmering stars, y/n decided to make a wish.
all i wish for is belonging. true belonging.
y/n went back to her cake, grabbing the strawberry and picking herself up from the ground. dusting herself off, she took her water bottle and gently rinsed the strawberry. placing it between her teeth and softly biting into it, she savoured the taste as she walked down towards the amphitheater and then the cabins.
she felt stupid for not wearing a proper jacket or shirt, but she did enjoy the fresh air leaving a chill to her skin. y/n was hoping her black tee would blend her into the night, especially as she neared the amphitheater. she wasn’t entirely keen on interacting more at the moment — it was past twelve and she knew she couldn’t match their energy.
“hey, y/n?”
the girl halted in her tracks. turning on her heel, she came face to face with none other than the loveable hermes boy lightly jogging up to her.
“hi luke,” she greeted, passing him a small smile. 
luke smiled back immediately. after a silent beat, he spoke again. “i just wanted to say, ha —“
“hey, luke! get over here, man, we need your backup vocals right now!” one of the hermes kids yelled, y/n couldn’t tell who from their distance.
“yeah, give me a sec!” he screamed, turning back to the girl.
“no dude, we need you RIGHT NOW! we’re gonna be mashed potatoes if you don’t!”
luke rolled his eyes, positioning himself back towards the theatre. “can’t you see i’m busy?”
“you can talk to anyone about anything whenever, luke! this is a one time exclusive!”
“stop quoting missy elliot, and no, give me two minutes!” he replied, a slight whine in his voice.
a scoff followed, “we’re gonna be eliminated, castellan!”
exasperated by bickering with his brothers, luke sighed and nodded. “i’ll be right there!” 
the boy instantly spun back around, wanting to wish the demeter girl a happy birthday.
she was at least 30 feet ahead of him, speed walking away with a slight slump to her shoulders.
luke’s smile dropped. another day, another day of being unable to fully attend to her. these countless moments have occurred more than he could fathom — he was always pulled away from the one girl he didn’t want to be pulled away from.
and yet here she was, disappearing out of his sight once again. “this karaoke better be worth it,” he grumbled under his breath as he trudged back.
the next morning was calm, not many campers up to anything special. there was a soft pitter patter on the window panes, but y/n didn’t mind. the rain rejuvenated her.
throwing on her raincoat but paying no mind to her shorts or shoes, y/n left the cabin with her stash of bracelet material in her pocket and sprinted through the paths, heading to chiron and mr. d.
luke’s attention immediately perked up at the bolting girl, and he realized this might just be the one time he can say anything.
subtly running after her, he watched as she entered the big house and rather excitedly. he followed inside, keeping a distance when he heard her begin to speak to chiron.
he didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but he did hear it all.
“may i call my dad?”
“of course, y/n. here,” luke could hear the shuffle of a phone, and footsteps coming closer to the edge of chiron’s office. 
the dial tone was evident. it went through three times before he heard the young girl speak.
“hey dad. hope you’re doing good. should've known you weren't gonna pick up. i turned sixteen today, fyi. hope your kids are doing fine and same with that blonde bimbo,” she spat, making luke’s eyes widen. “i’m not coming home for christmas. might be early to determine but i’m sure i won’t. bye.”
she walked back to chiron, and luke could hear light sniffles coming from her. his heart sank. 
“for all it matters, i’m here, we all are. happy birthday, y/n. you’ve always made us proud, you’ve always been an asset to us, you deserve to know that no matter what,” chiron reassured, and luke could hear the girl softly thank him.
stepping outside of chiron’s office and shutting the door behind her, y/n broke into a sob in the hallway. it was one thing to have others not be around, but when family abandons, nothing feels real anymore. 
luke observed as she stopped her tears almost as quick as they started, wiping her eyes as she headed towards him, unbeknownst to her.
“uh,” luke cleared his throat, “hey, y/n.”
y/n’s face warmed up, startled at his presence. hurriedly fixing herself up, she nodded. “hi luke.”
“i’m sorry for last night,” he apologized, scratching the nape of his neck. “i was trying to talk to you but i guess i got carried away with everyone else,” he paused, looking down, “as usual. i’m sorry.”
y/n shook her head. “it’s okay. don’t apologize, life happens.”
“right,” luke acknowledged awkwardly. “speaking of life,” he approached her in a friendly manner, “i wanted to wish you a happy birthday last night. you’re sixteen, one of the biggest milestones in anyone’s life!”
his enthusiasm made the corners of y/n’s lips tug up, and she watched intently as he continued. “you deserve an amazing birthday, and i’m going to give that to you.”
y/n was not expecting that.
“c’mon, let’s go.” luke held his hand out to her, his dark curls practically bouncing in excitement. a sweet grin crept onto her face, making the young boy smile even wider. she accepted his hand, and the second he felt her palm within his, the fragility made him realize he could never be a part of something that’d hurt her ever again.
she was stronger than anyone he knew, enduring all the shit the world put upon her. he just knew he couldn’t be one of them to do the same. 
together, the two gracefully left the big house, trampling down to camp and rushing towards god knows where.
somehow, they ended up at the pavilions, and without a second thought, y/n pulled out her bracelet material. luke was confused but watched eagerly as she carefully took the little sacks out.
“wanna make some friendship bracelets?”
“friendship bracelets?” luke asked, unsure of the concept.
y/n nodded. “today’s the day someone willingly decided to hang out with me. i was going to make some alone but if you want, we can create matching ones and mark our friendship.”
luke grinned toothily, “so we’re friends now?”
y/n nodded, “i’d love to be, if you don’t mind.”
his eyes screamed happiness, “i definitely don’t mind.”
the two taped down their threads, choosing colours that work cohesively with one another’s. “now you’re gonna wanna take this thread and do a tuck-knot with it,” y/n explained, showing the boy to her left the steps.
after getting the basics down, the two fell into a comfortable silence, threading away and adding some cute hand-made clay beads here and there. “i’m not too childish for wanting to do this, right?” y/n suddenly asked, a nervous smile on her face.
luke shook his head and gave her a hearty grin. “i don’t think there should ever be such thing as “too childish”, sucks the life out of everyone,” he looked back down at the bracelet, “plus, when you’re a demigod, what else is there to do? play video games? we’d be dead in minutes.”
y/n laughed. luke froze.
he’d never heard her laugh this much. she sounded pretty.
“you’re not wrong,” she slowly caught her breathing and softly chuckled. “are you close to finishing your’s?”
the hermes boy nodded and watched intently as y/n’s delicate fingers tutored him on how to securely tie the ends of the bracelet. watching her move so effortlessly made his heart skip a beat — she was perfect.
even though this was the smallest activity they could ever do, she was perfect at it. it made him wonder why he didn’t seize the opportunity to be her friend beforehand.
“hey, y/n?”
“yes, luke?”
“i just wanted to say,” his breath lightly hitched when she began placing the bracelet on his wrist to make sure it was of right measurement, “that, uh, you’re really pretty.”
now it was y/n’s turn to freeze.
“but, i’m not doing all of this to just be your boyfriend or whatever. hell, we’ve just begun our friendship,” he stifled a small, sweet laugh, “so when i say this i really just mean it from the bottom of my heart. i don’t want it to influence you in any way, i just want you to know how i’ve seen you for the past two years.
“you’re gentle and loving, not to mention stealthy and incredibly intelligent. i love whenever i look over and you’re always doing something that captivates me. i’ve been an idiot to admire you from afar for this long, but you’ve always deserved to know and be appreciated. i’m sorry i couldn’t give that to you sooner.”
y/n looked into luke’s eyes, somber traversing in her’s. “may i hug you?”
luke nodded, and y/n wrapped him up in her arms. the boy held tightly onto her, a sudden thought of losing her intruding his mind of peace. “happy birthday, y/n,” he whispered into her ear as they continued to embrace.
“thank you, luke. this means the world to me.”
luke now knew he had to give her the world, no matter what.
their matching bracelets would only be a reminder of what there was, what there will be and what will be gone.
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dadsbongos · 3 months
Text
my wife is cool, understanding, and goes with the flow
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5.7 k words / warnings - fem reader (+referred to as mother/wife), chilchuck's emotional turmoil (he's so in love and so incapable of verbalizing it)
summary - general strings of yours and chilchuck's marriage. good to bad to making up.
~~~
“You know,” you whisper, “If you ignore how nightmarish they were to raise, then they’re kinda perfect kids.”
Chilchuck snorts, letting you hang off his arm as you stand in the doorway to your living room.
Meijack and Flertom are strewn across the couch in opposite directions, Flertom’s feet dangling off an armrest and Meijack’s in her sister’s face. Thankfully, Flertom is not awake to notice the violation of personal space. Puckpatti is curled on the floor before the couch, long auburn hair flayed out and draped over her arms, which she uses as a makeshift pillow.
The front door is wide open, gentle pittering rain having lulled the girls to sleep. Puckpatti had been the one to suggest a ‘slumber party’ in the common space as it rained, even likening the cool air and atmospheric petrichor to camping to incite Meijack. As far as you know, however, none of the girls have been camping, so you’re mystified how that reasoning actually worked.
“Mei and Fler are so big now,” he muses, “Mei thinks she’s ready for the adult world now.”
“As if,” you lay your cheek on his shoulder, silently wishing he’d take the opportunity to kiss your temple. He does not, “We were barely ready when we had them. How’s a nine-year-old prepared for that?”
“That’s what I’m asking.”
Meijack, as if sensing her parents’ lighthearted jabs, rolls over with a grumble and hum, flinging a foot into Flertom’s nose. The younger twin’s face wrinkles in protest, head jerking in the opposite direction -- you and Chilchuck freeze, anticipating a shrill cry, until Flertom relaxes again. The sigh of relief is short, though.
Abruptly, Chilchuck goes rigid, jolting you off him, “Why is Patti on the floor? Like a dog?”
“How am I supposed to know what goes on in that kid’s brain?”
Chilchuck shakes his head and steps over the young girl to shut your front door. Squeaky hinges pull a whine from Patti herself, drowsily rubbing her eyes and calling, “Papa, don’t shut it!”
“What? You want a troll to get in?” he asks sarcastically.
“No,” Puckpatti answers in earnest.
“That’s why Papa wants the door shut,” you kneel by your youngest daughter, brushing back her bangs just to watch her eyebrows scrunch cutely, “So no nasty trolls can get inside…” then you remember your husband’s complaint, “Patti, baby, do you wanna sleep in a chair? Or a bed? The ground doesn’t look very nice to rest on.”
“Yeah, Mama’s right. The ground’s gonna mess up your back,” Chilchuck joins you, ready to scoop up your daughter when she shakes her head.
“Wanna stay by Mei and Fler…” she pouts.
“Okay, but let me set out some more blankets, alright?” you kiss her on the forehead once, then twice when she beams and nods.
Chilchuck is already standing to retrieve spare blankets from your closet, he’s back before you can impede the hallway. He stops you from venturing further by propping a leg in front of you, “Don’t worry about it, I got everything.”
“She’ll need a real pillow, too, honey.”
“Yeah,” he taps at your ankles with his foot until you’re relenting, turning back towards the living room, “I said I got it.”
“Thank goodness for my big, strong man, huh?”
“I am the breadwinner,” he teases, granting you a kiss on the cheek before dropping to lay the blankets out as a makeshift mattress for Puckpatti.
“Self-imposed!” you rasp, stage-swatting at his back, “I could get a job, too!”
“Do you want to?” you want to smack the smug grin off his lips, specifically with your own. In a kiss. For a long while.
“...no.”
He laughs at your sudden shyness. Tempered down only to avoid waking your daughters, “There you go.”
“Boo,” you pull Chilchuck to a stand by the back of his shirt. You pull, and pull, and pull, and you don’t stop until he’s tumbling on top of you into your shared bed, with your door haphazardly kicked shut, “You’re mean to me.”
“I’m mean?!” he whisper-shouts, instantly more affectionate in how he wraps his arms around you and buries his face into your neck, “You choked me, yanking on my shirt like that.”
“You’re alive, aren’t you?”
“Barely,” he abruptly goes limp, “I’m half dead.”
“Half dead isn’t a thing, Chil,” you giggle, trying halfheartedly to shove him off.
“It is, I’m half dead,” he insists, “There’s only one way to revive me.”
“Uh-huh… and that is?”
“A kiss,” Chilchuck lifts his head to look you in the eyes, suggestively bumping his eyebrows, “A sloppy one.”
“No!” you gasp, dramatically.
“Loud and wet,” he nods in even measures, clicking his tongue, “Only way, I guess. Really tough for you.”
“I don’t know about that,” you wiggle out an arm from beneath his body to poke his cheek, “You seem fine now. Very lively and talkative!”
“Means I’m dying faster. It’s the final burst of energy before I shit my pants and die.”
“Ew!” your shout is smothered beneath Chilchuck’s hand, his laughter rumbling your body, forehead digging into your collarbones.
Between choked chuckles Chilchuck manages out a meek, “sorry, sorry!” he gasps for breath and releases your mouth, “That was gross.”
“Yeah, now get off me. You’re nasty.”
“See? You’re mean to me, one mention of shit and I’m just an expendable stud.”
As soon as Chilchuck rolls off you and onto his back, you’re crowding onto him, pawing at his chest and kissing his cheek, “You are a stud.”
“Can I get a kiss for that, at least?”
“I just kissed you, greedy.”
His deadpan stare inspires a bizarre longing in your thumping chest, you stretch to grant his wish. Chilchuck’s hands cup your cheek, holding you close to prolong the kiss as long as you’ll allow. Such restless and selfish want is reserved for behind closed doors, which you wish you could understand, but you don’t.
You’re preoccupied with the dread of death. Half-foots are blessed to live past fifty. Sure, you and Chilchuck are merely scratching at twenty, but life is too short for him to be shy about these things.
“I wish you’d be more open and lovey.”
“Hm?” he hums against your lips, pulling away to stare at you strangely, “Why?”
“‘Why?’” you mock, “I’m your wife! That’s why.”
Instinctually, Chilchuck goes to wave off the answer as a joke and roll his eyes, but then something barks. Both of you pause, heads turning slowly towards the now gaping door to find a shaggy white puppy standing in the dim space. Swiftly, its tail wags, and it barks again before charging towards your bed.
Your screech at the dash rouses Chilchuck from his shock. Clumsily shuffling so he’s in front of you, taking the brunt of the dog’s pounce.
“Since when do we have a dog?!” Chilchuck looks over his shoulder at you, as if you’d know.
“As if I know!” you parrot your thoughts, breath slowing to a calm when the small dog cuddles your husband’s arms, “Kinda cute though, right?”
“He broke in!” Chilchuck accuses, lifting a shoulder to prevent you petting it -- his plan fails miserably and you’re easily scratching behind the dog’s ears, “He could have ticks! He could’ve bit the girls on his way back here!”
“No,” you whine, resting your chin on Chilchuck’s shoulder, “He has a friendly face, he’d never do that!”
“And you know that how…?”
“Aw, Chil, honey, have a heart! He was probably scared of the rain and snuck inside to get away from it!” you reach under the dog’s head to now scritch his chin, “Which is our fault for leaving the door open, isn’t it?” you’re already a lost cause to logic, repeating back to the puppy, “Isn’t it? Yes, it is! Yes, it is! He understands me! He’s so smart, Chil, we have to keep him.”
His silent glowering makes you wilt over his back.
You retreat from the dog to hug your husband from behind, “C’mon, have a heart!”
Irritation pulses through Chilchuck at the turn of tonight’s events. Everything before this dumb dog felt natural, smooth, and familiar. Until you said that.
One thing that makes his heart rate spike. Even though, at twenty, it means very little to him.
‘I wish you’d be more open and lovey.’
He knows this means more.
“Okay, okay,” he eases, snatching a chaste smooch from you before combing a hand down the dog’s soft fur, “I’ll work on it.”
You two never had a dog, though.
Puckpatti is allergic -- you never would’ve gotten a dog since it’d cause your daughter so much distress.
What’s in his arms isn’t a dog, but it isn’t a mimic.
What’s in his arms isn’t a dog because this isn’t real.
.
.
.
Chilchuck’s eyes drift open, a dusty ceiling stares down at him. Slowly, a crushing weight is relieved from his stomach.
Blonde and black hair mingle in his peripherals, then Laios is leaning over him obnoxiously, speaking to the other two while looking at the half-foot, “Does Chil sleep with his eyes open?”
“No,” Chilchuck takes initiative, shoving Laios away by the chin and sitting up with a yawn. His back cracks unpleasantly, and eye crust pokes into his fluttering lids. Rubbing the gross clots away, Chilchuck settles his elbows onto his knees before resting that way -- leaning into his hands even after his eyes have been cleared out.
For a moment, he silently mourns the fading images of his dream; already having forgotten the beginning. No matter how desperately he clings to the story, it escapes, leaking out his ears until all there is left to mourn is the fact he’s awake.
All he knows is that dream ended differently than it should have. Hopefully the ending this time was better than real life, not that it matters. He wouldn’t remember, nor would it change the fact that in reality you two are not together.
“Chilchuck? Are you okay?” Marcille sounds hesitant. Worried.
The last thing he needs is her fretting and prying into what his Nightmare could’ve been about, so instead he lamely says, “Tired.”
“Oh, okay,” she sounds entirely unconvinced. He’s surprised when she doesn’t push.
He’s further surprised when Laios does, “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Chil’,” you croon, hands curling around the man’s waist as he silently uncorks a bottle of cheap wine. He makes sure not to jostle you off as he moves the dark glass to his lips, even cupping your overlapping hands with one of his own to steady you, “You should talk to me about these things!”
“It was fine, we went in -- got what we needed -- got out. I’m back and alive.”
‘Alive’ strikes you, it sticks in the back of your head as soon as he says it. Your arms tighten around his slim waist, the slots of his ribs dig into your forearms and it makes your chest tighten. Swirling thoughts colliding and dragging each other deeper and deeper into your darker concerns: Chilchuck starving himself to maintain an unhealthy weight, Chilchuck burning calories in a revival, Chilchuck having to drink himself under just to fall asleep.
“Would you tell me if you died?”
“Why would you want to know that?” he laughs, yet you’re frowning into his back.
You bite your lip until raw iron spills onto your tongue, gnawing it with the anxiety of how to soften this question. How marshmallowy can you make your tone to avoid lecturing while also not patronizing him? Eventually, you settle on just spitting it out,
“Would you even remember it?” he hums, confused, “You drink a lot, Chil’.”
He squeezes your hands, setting down his wine to turn in your hold, now cupping your cheeks -- flush with upset and ready to dampen with tears, “I don’t get blackout on jobs, you know?”
“But,” you don’t want to pester him, to drive him away from home even during his off time, “Chil’, honey, you’re… with your weight, alcohol could- well- !”
“I know,” he interrupts your stammering, drawing a thumb across the apples of your face tenderly. Though his posture is rigid, and his next statement confirms your suspicion that he just wants to stop talking about this, “I appreciate you looking out for me, but really, don’t think so much about it. Work’s not worth talking about at home. And my drinking is totally recreational, I want to enjoy myself and unwind, is that so bad?”
“No,” you heave with defeat, now planting your forehead against his shoulder. Clenching his shirt in a bunch, you squeeze and squeeze and squeeze hoping it’ll squash out any thoughts of continuing to nag his drinking. It’ll end the same way it always does.
Chilchuck is fine because work is fine and his drinking is fine and his diet is fine because Chilchuck is perfectly perpetually fine.
You’re just a worrywart wife. Your kids are grown, having flown the coop, and you’re going mad in loneliness. You should think less. You should learn to be fine like your husband.
“Woah, no way! They want to meet me?”
“Uh-huh,” Chilchuck’s eyes trail after you as you rush from one end of the room to the other, clicking jewelry clasps and snapping buttons into place as you go, “It’s nothing to dress up over,” when you seem to ignore him, he only gets louder, “We’re gonna be late, you know?”
Let me dress up! is what you want to snap at him, but you don’t. Instead, you let those comments join the many others from him that rattle around in the back of your mind like rocks.
“I want to make a good impression,” you finally utter, “It isn’t like you tell me anything about work, I’m excited to meet your friends! Besides, if you wanted me to be more prepared then you should’ve said something earlier.”
“I get it,” and in a bid to be polite, but just coming out tumbling into the rock pile is, “If you had work friends, I’d wanna meet them, too.”
The obvious dig is that you don’t get out. Now that the girls are older and independently caring for themselves, you could more easily find work… the problem lies in how you don’t really want to. You’d be too scared of Chilchuck returning home to an empty house, whenever it is that he does come home.
The hidden dig is that he’s fibbing, he would never want to meet your friends like you want to meet his.
Nevertheless, you tuck a white hyacinth cob into your hair and head for the spot Chilchuck claims his group frequents for after-work drinks. Before tonight, it never really occurred to you that Chilchuck might be grabbing drinks with other people. Not that such an idea alone is what bothers you, rather that he’s out so often and for so long potentially enjoying himself while you’re stuck at home sick over whether he’s alive.
Upon arrival, a pair of tallmen greet you both. Smiles light up their faces, cheeks balling with glee, when their eyes spot you. It should probably be embarrassing how quickly such an insignificant act can get you excited. You wave and they wave back.
“Gonna introduce the lovely lady?” the slightly taller one, black haired with stubble stretching down his neck, prompts.
“We should get to the table first,” Chilchuck reaches for the door, holding it open for you.
(if you were presenting Chilchuck to your friends then you’d repeat yourself introducing him ad infinitum with shining pride, but you add that thought to your rock collection)
“This is my wife,” Chilchuck pulls out your chair for you, waiting until you’re sat before adding your name and sitting beside you, “Hope she’s everything you all hoped for.”
You choose to ignore that. Preferring to strike conversation with his friends until,
“You know,” the blonde woman at the head of the table leans forward, you’ve been rudely trying to avoid looking at her. But how can you blame yourself when she stares at your husband with such a sultry, lidded gaze, “I think you were exaggerating how spacey she is, Chilchuck. Adorable thing’s been keyed into our conversation the whole time.”
Chilchuck grumbles into his rapidly emptying mug of ale, then locking eyes with the blonde woman, “You don’t live with her.”
“Hey!” you sound bratty and grating with the whine, but your spirit feels worse, “Is that what you tell them about me?”
“And clumsy,” the gnome directly across from you chirps.
“But!” the black-haired one from earlier interrupts, apparently sensing your drowning mood, “You’re a good mom! Great, even!”
“Oh,” the compliment does very little to satiate you, given what’s been said against you (you don’t stop to consider that Chilchuck mentions those things because he finds them charming). You look over to your husband, “I’m a good mom?”
Chilchuck is drunkenly chortling over something you hadn’t heard the blonde woman say.
But at least you’re a good mom.
Something plops against the hand buried in your lap. A scattered white hyacinth. Embarrassed suddenly by how much effort you put into your outfit, you sweep the flower off your leg and stare at the table -- praying to avoid more glimpses of the blonde at the head of the table.
Nobody seems to notice your veil of silence, not even Chilchuck to tease you proving his point about spacing out.
On the trek home, you trail behind Chilchuck to test if he’ll notice. At some point, you’re three full paces behind him, and you theorize that the weight of all your freshly added brain-rocks is slowing you down. Again, he holds the door to your shared home open, but does not ask the cause for your sour mood.
Assuming he’s even noticed, anyway.
Given the way he leaves the next morning for another job with little more than a kiss to your forehead, you assume he didn’t. Venomously, you wonder if he would notice the blonde in a bad mood.
That same morning, not knowing how long he’ll be away this time, you pack up and head for Flertom’s house with Puckpatti.
(a flickering hope tries to toss the rocks through your ears, assuring that Chilchuck will come for you as soon as he’s seen you missing)
Four years later, Chilchuck does finally come for you.
“Hey, Mama?” Flertom creeps around the corner to the kitchen, hands wrinkled in the skirt of her dress nervously, “You have a visitor…”
Looking up from your book, you roll the handle of your coffee mug in your palm, making the bottom scrape against your daughter’s tablecloth, “Who’d visit me?”
“Dad.”
That makes you hesitate before slipping your book closed around your thumb, “Your father’s here?”
“He’s at the door,” she nods, voice lowering as if he’d hear her across the house, “There’s an elf lady with him!”
“Oh, you’re- !” you purse your lips, sighing through your nose, and nod. Rising to a stand, you replace your thumb with a proper bookmark before skirting around Flertom and through the hall. Curses coagulate in your throat, and you suffer them silently, holding them until they melt back into your chest, not wanting to swear out your ex in front of his daughter.
With more force than perhaps necessary, you pull the door open and annoyedly flick your eyes from Chilchuck to the blonde elf woman behind him.
“What? Came to show off?”
Chilchuck flushes red, shaking his head and tilting a preciously wrapped bouquet towards you, “No! No, we’re not together.”
Elf Lady lets out a quiet gasp before refusing sharply, “Not together at all! He’s here for you!”
“I figure he’s here for me,” you’re much more bitter than you thought you’d be, although to be fair whenever you imagined Chilchuck coming to see you he was never with another woman, “If you’re not together, why are you here?”
She frowns at your tone, Chilchuck sticking an arm out in front of her, “She’s my coworker. And friend. She pushed me to come see you,” he steps forward, waving the flowers under your nose, “Can we talk?”
“About what, Chilchuck?”
His eyes widen at the use of his formal name, plastic wrap crinkling loudly as he squeezes the flowers. Then his gaze drops to his feet, “I didn’t realize we were so unfamiliar.”
“I haven’t heard from you in four years.”
“You haven’t heard from me?” he grins sideways, an agitated twitch in his left eye, “Do you hear yourself?”
You open your mouth to retort, only to then catch the sight of Chilchuck’s ‘friend’ lingering -- staring -- not even three feet back. Glaring at her, you begin to slide the door shut, “I think we’re done here. You show up at our daughter’s house, unannounced, with some pretty, blonde filly and expect us to chat like old friends? You’re just as insensitive as always, Chilchuck!”
As you go to slam the door, Chilchuck shoves his foot in the way, hissing at the resounding ache all through his instep and ankle. Breathless from the sudden pain, he worms the bouquet through the slim gap -- a few stray powder blue hyacinth petals fluttering to the floor at the pressure. Just above the plush flowers is the sorrowful sight of Chilchuck’s wet lashes and batting eyes.
“Come on,” he huffs, not even taking a huff of relief when you let the door open wider. Tensely, Chilchuck wraps his other hand around the bouquet as well, “It’s not like that, you know me better, don’t you? I just need to talk to you,” the wrap squeals again as he squeezes tighter, “I just want you to tell me where I went wrong.”
He’s playing to your big headedness, vying that he’s alone in the wrong. You know him better, most definitely, you know that as soon as you two sit down he’ll bring up the way in which you left. You deserve that much, don’t you? If you could change anything (given that what you can pick from is what was actually your fault), it would be the manner in how you left. You would’ve waited until he was home to tell him to his face.
(except that’s a lie, if you had waited then you would’ve let him sucker you with soft apologies and unfulfilling promises to change)
This is the most vulnerable you’ve seen him in years.
“She’s not coming into my home.”
Chilchuck nods, lips stretching fondly, “You’re so jealous.”
“She’s tall, and blonde! And pretty. And- !”
He cuts you off, tone just as soft as it was seconds ago, “And I’m not giving her flowers, am I?”
“Apology flowers,” you mutter, though sweeping the bouquet from his arms into yours. Skimming one of the soft petals under your thumb before gliding from one bob to the other and touching there, too. Turning toward the burning feeling of eyes on your back, you find Flertom’s blown out stare meeting yours.
Flertom holds both hands out silently, brows raised. Pushing in neither way, only offering to hold -- whether she holds you or the flowers is your decision. You choose the flowers. She giggles and waves you off, whispering to the flowers about what a lovely, empty vase she has just for them!
“We shouldn’t talk here,” you step out from Flertom’s home, “I don’t want to include our daughter in our troubles.”
“What a good mom,” he teases, waving off the elf as he steps down from Flertom’s porch, holding out a hand to assist you down as well. The remark has a new defiance bubbling beneath your skin.
“I can walk myself,” you bypass his offer.
“I know you can, but let me be nice.”
“You had lots of opportunities to be nice.”
A retort is trapped on the back of his tongue. Ultimately, he swallows it, and says nothing except to suggest a bar nearby, “That could be a good spot,” at your judgmental stare, he sputters, “For talking!”
“Right.”
Chilchuck has a favored tavern in Kahka Brud, the one where you told him you were pregnant with Puckpatti. He, very selflessly and pumped full of blind joy, bought a round for the patrons. It's not a particularly popular or nice place, there’s a lingering smell of mildew and the usual customers are lonely old men (basically: Chilchuck). And the door still creaks when he holds it open for you.
And the tables are just as wobbly when you sit there. Chilchuck tries in vain to mask the tipping by forcing it to one side by pressing his elbows down.
“So, what was she doing there?”
“She kept bugging me about my personal life, so,” he sighs, unsure how to explain himself without sounding out of his mind, “In short, I promised she could meet my family.”
“Pretty against your usual tough front.”
“Not tough,” he folds his arms now, hands on either bicep, still trying to keep the uneven table steady, “I just don’t think they have to know my business.”
“You realize how stupid you sound, right?”
“Oi,” a deep voice approaches from the other side of the bar, a man unfamiliar to both you and Chilchuck stands behind the counter, “We don’t serve kids here.”
Chilchuck groans, pointing at his ears without looking back at the man, then his eyes catch the way you’re prepared to hop down from your seat. He shakes his head, “Don’t move for this dumbass. If he can’t tell a tall-man kid from adult half-foots, he’s a fucking idiot.”
“I guess, but what if he just kicks you out for being a dick?” you glance at the bartender warily, trying to sense if he’s gearing up to throw you and Chilchuck out by force.
“I’m not worried about him,” Chilchuck leans forward, almost as if he can assert control over the situation by a meager height difference, “I’m here to talk to you.”
You’re unsure how to respond to that. It’s something you’ve always wanted to hear from him, but now that you have it feels unsatisfying. After four years of your sudden disappearance from his life, he’s finally given chase.
“Do you have any idea why I left?”
“Roughly,” he admits, voice quiet, eyes redirected to the table in shame, “I wasn’t there for you, right?”
“That’s a bit simplified. When you were on crawls, it felt like you being away for work felt the same as when you were home.”
“I wasn’t there for you,” he restates, nodding slowly, “So, that was it?”
His lack of tension hurts you more than you’re willing to admit. Enough that you temporarily forget that you wanted to make him feel the distance between you both.
“Chil…”
You revert to his first name.
“It’s okay, you can say it. That was it. You had enough.”
It goes unacknowledged, and that hurts all over again. It hurts so bad, you start to get angry that he even maintains such an effect on your heart.
“I didn’t want- it wasn’t- I’m…” you groan loudly, eyes clenching shut to avoid him, “That’s the problem, Chil,” his silence prods you on, “You think of me leaving as… as a ‘that’s it’ moment. Do you know how hard that was on me?”
“Leaving was hard on you? I came home to nothing that day! I thought you were just upset, maybe a little depressed, I didn’t think you were planning to leave me! I never thought you’d leave.”
“I told you. I told you why I was upset.”
“When?”
“I told you all the time!” before he can open his stupid mouth, you’re yelling again, “And if you knew I was so sad, then why didn’t you ask?! Did it never occur to you that I might need support? That I wanted my husband to talk to me about how I felt? That he should talk to me about how he feels?”
“I’m no good with emotional shit, you know that. When I’m upset I just feel uncomfortable spilling that onto others, I didn’t want to intrude.”
“We were married! Spouses are supposed to intrude!”
His shoulders droop, face falling like you said something genuinely devastating (but that can’t be, right? why would he be so upset about something he gave such little thought to?), “Were?”
“I was gone for four years before you came to see me, Chil,” you lay your head in your hands, “Four years before you looked for me.”
“I thought you didn’t want to see me again,” he whispers, “I asked Fler about you.”
“She never told me that.”
“I told her not to.”
Redundantly, you say, “I didn’t know that.”
“I thought you hated me,” Chilchuck draws a slow breath, it fills his whole chest before he lets it all out, “And for the first couple of months after Fler told me you were safe, I hated you, too. I was so mad that you didn’t even leave a note. I couldn’t eat or sleep, I was just… confused, and angry. I couldn’t work,” he swallows hesitation, “And the worst part was… I couldn’t talk about it because nobody knew you. Re-explaining it to people would just piss me off all over again.”
“Your old coworkers met me. And we grew up with Dandan.”
“I didn’t want to talk to Dandan,” he huffs petulantly, “I wanted to talk to my wife.”
So many feelings are bottled between you both; shaken up to a fizzy, bubbling mess about to explode from one of you. You fear it may be you. You almost crave for it to be him, though. You hate him. You miss him. You love him.
And you’re lying through your teeth, still, because you don’t hate him at all.
“Being with you, I felt so lonely.”
“I never took it seriously when you said I should open up more. I thought that because we were married that was enough and you’d be content to just be there,” he purses his lips, “I was wrong. Obviously.”
“Obviously,” you reach across the table and pull one of his hands off his arm, lacing his fingers with yours, “I should’ve left a note. I’m sorry. You must’ve been worried sick.”
“I thought some bastards took you. Ran up and down the coast accusing everyone I could see of kidnapping,” he chuckles, although the ragged beat in his voice clues to you that the incident was not as lighthearted as he’s making it seem, “But when I found out the truth, I just thought you didn’t want to be found.”
“Because you wouldn’t want to be found, right?”
“Right.”
“But- !”
“You’re not me,” he squeezes your hand tight, you can feel the full warm softness of his palm without those gloves he pulls on for work, “You’re way different. You run away to prove points,” a bratty hey! follows, “You know yourself really well, and you’re good at being open. I’ve never been like that. I never knew how, it makes me uncomfortable. But you’re my,” he swallows, “You were my wife, I should’ve been comfortable being emotional with you. You shouldn’t have been in a position where me being home was the same as me being gone for days on end.”
“Thanks, Chil,” you smooth a thumb from his knuckle and along his index finger. You glance back up to his face. A sick nostalgia, or perhaps revived affections, rage up from your gut and overdriving your heartbeat. He’s more handsome than you remember.
He shrugs, studying your conjoined hands. As if it’s the last time he’ll see them like this.
It might be.
“What now?” you ask.
“Dunno,” he replies.
Is it pathetic if you ask to get back together? (YES)
“Want to meet my new coworkers?” he blurts, a vicious red overtaking his face.
This is a step. Where exactly, you’re completely in the dark, but it certainly is a step somewhere new.
“You’re seriously not with that elf, right?”
“Of course, not! What kind of person tries reuniting with their wife while bringing a new girlfriend along?”
“You really want that answer?”
“Oh, fuck you,” he snides, getting down from his chair and holding out a hand to help you down. This time, you take it, and leave his palm in yours as you both exit the bar, “By the way, my old boss is a king now.”
“What?” you gasp, spare hand flying down to smooth out your outfit, “Tell me we’re not going yet! I can look nicer than this!”
“You look pretty like this,” his eyes scrawl over your frame, “Not that it matters, right?”
“Why not?” you frown, “I should at least try to look my best in front of a king.”
“He’s just some guy,” he double-backs suddenly, shaking his head sternly, “I don’t even think he’s attracted to people, I think he’s into monsters. You shouldn’t waste your time.”
Oh!
You smile at your husband widely, “You’re jealous!”
“Not even a little. Why would I be?”
“Exactly,” you pull him into your side by your hand in his, “Why would you be?”
Is it pathetic for him to beg to renew your vows?
Yes.
Does he still plan to?
Yes.
“You have a wife?”
“Is that so surprising?” Chilchuck can’t help but preen at the shock, carding a hand through his hair like some pompous dork trying to act too cool for the attention, “Yeah, I’m a taken man.”
Clara, a blonde tallman he usually laughs at rather than with, pesters for more information, “What’s she like?”
Her curiosity makes his skin itch, so he shrugs and tries throwing out answers as fast as they come, “Kind of a space case, and clumsy. But it’s cute…” he scoffs when his party coos and ‘aww’s like he’s some kid talking about a crush rather than a grown man his wife, “She’s really caring, too, it made her a good mom,” Chilchuck clears his throat, if only to smother the sight of his broad grin with his hand, “She’s great.”
“We should meet her,” his black-haired cleric suggests suddenly, “She probably wants to know what group has her husband away from home so often. Hopefully she doesn’t hate us, huh?”
“No,” Chilchuck lowers his hand, still feeling a gentle giddy lap over him like sunlight at the thought of you, “She’s pretty understanding.”
~~~
+ and btw and fyi: i think it’d be cool if the dream was actually terrible and only appeared pleasant cuz laios saved chil, like how marcille remembered having a nice dream after being saves. like if the real dream was coming home from a long job to discover his family horribly murdered <3
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starry-hughes · 4 months
Text
blurring the lines
matt rempe x reader
navigation
summary: after meeting matt in a bar and hooking up, the one night stand turns into something much more.
warnings: heavy allusions to sex, underage drinking, drinking, hangover, slight angst (it lasts like two seconds), mentions throwing up once, matt is a cocky bitch for a little, creepy guy mention
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The vodka redbull in your hand wasn’t strong enough. Maybe it was because the bartender secretly knew your ID was fake. Or maybe it was your friend, Wendy, hanging off the neck of a random guy in the bar like always. You were always happy to support her in the search of a nightly hook up but sometimes you wish you were her, the one chosen by the guys in the bar.
“You look like you’re having fun.”
Matt Rempe filled the space next to you at the bar. He wasn’t twenty one yet but his status in New York City with the Rangers was all he needed for the bartender to hand him a beer. “Tons of fun,” you mumbled taking another sip of your drink.
“I’m Matt.”
You almost scoffed. You were a longtime resident of NYC. You knew who he was the second you saw him and his fading black eye. “Matt Rempe. Yeah, I know. 6’7 right?” Your roommates loved the Rangers games so you had been subjected to watch the whole season. Matt smirked. “Usually the height alone gets people flaunting.”
An audible scoff left your mouth that time. “Oh am I not living up to what your ego needs?” Matt’s jaw locked. He was falling for you more each second. “Lovely meeting you Matt,” you finished your drink, “have a good night.”
The guy Wendy was hanging off of followed the two of you to the next bar. Typically, that meant the guy would go home with her. Another drink in and the buzz was good enough for you, you tried staying pretty sober when Wendy was drinking and flirting with unfamiliar guys. “I’m going to the bathroom,” you told her. She nodded before going back to kissing her new companion.
The line for the bathroom was long. The typical line of drunk girls, vape smoke filling the air, guys trying to shoot their shots when girls were just trying to pee. When you finally got out of the line, your hands felt sticky from the cheap soap and you went to make your way back to the bar.
It was crowded. You were bumping into multiple bodies, fighting your way up to the bar. You lost sight of Wendy, probably still in the darkened corner of the bar with the guy she was dragging along. “You here alone?” The guy’s voice made the hair on your neck stand. Slurring his words and trying to reach out to get a hand on you. “You better back off,” you started, getting defensive, ready to throw a punch. “Calm down Rocky,” a voice mumbled from behind you, Matt Rempe’s tall body was soon separating you and the random dude. “You should leave her alone dude,” Matt said over his shoulder to the guy.
“Are you following me?” you accused. “We’re both at the most crowded bar on this street, I was not following you. Are you okay?” Matt asked. Your eyes softened for a second. “Oh, yeah, nothing out of the normal I guess.” He frowned. “I hate that for you.” Matt was growing on you by the second.
You hated admitting that you didn’t want the night to end. “I don’t need you to protect me anymore,” you teased Matt. He leaned on the bar, looking at you, face inches away, “Then tell me to walk away.” Your eyes flickered down to his lips.
It felt exciting but scary as you dragged Matt behind you by the hand. Once you found Wendy, you quickly told her you were leaving for the night and wanted to make sure she got home. The Uber ride was weird, Wendy and the guy she was bringing home making out while Matt and you softly bumped knees the whole drive.
“Sorry it’s a mess,” he was a little red in the face from embarrassment. It was typical for him, it wasn’t even that messy. “It’s okay,” you swallowed. The nerves were setting in. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,” he stuttered. “Shut up and kiss me Matt.”
You were shivering. You didn’t know if it was from the fact that Matt kept his room freezing cold or because he just had you shaking beneath him. The sound of his headboard hitting the wall was still echoing in your ears. “Do you want to take a shower?” Matt asked, kissing your bare shoulder. “I don’t have any clothes.” “Just borrow mine?”
The shower was hot and warm. Matt had given you a pair of boxers for a shirt and a sweater. You were drowning in his clothes. “Hope the boxers are okay,” he said nervously after you exited the bathroom. The sweater he gave you was pretty big on you, the boxers had to be rolled up a couple of times. He was wearing sweats that hung off his hips a little. “It’s good.” “I can sleep on the couch if you want me to,” he said. “No, I’m okay with sharing the bed.” Within minutes, the two of you were knocked out and asleep.
In the morning, you forgot where you were for a second. Your eyes fluttering open. This definitely was not your bedroom. Then you saw Matt and the memories came flooding back. His alarm was going off. He woke up, scrambling for his phone. “Sorry,” he mumbled into his pillow, “got practice in two hours.”
Silently, you got dressed in the clothes from the night before. Matt watched from his pillow as you got dressed, he just wanted to remember every curve of your body. “Hey Matt,” you cleared your throat, “this is really out of the ordinary for me. I don’t normally just have one night stands.” His face showed relief. “I don’t either. To be honest, this was my first one.” The two of you laughed at the situation. “I would love to see you again. Don’t be a stranger,” he kissed you softly as he walked you to the door and placed you into an uber. Your phone felt a little heavier with his number in it.
The one night stand turned into multiple nights. Most of them ending in the two of you talking and getting to know each other as Matt performed after care. It was weird, but a good weird. Friends with benefits. “Why don’t we ever go to your place?” Matt hummed. “My roommates.”
The next night you brought Matt to your place. Your roommates had told you they’d be gone for the night. You didn’t bother holding back noises and Matt didn’t either. By the morning, your roommates were awake and leaned over cups of coffee in the kitchen, all tired from hearing the noises from your room for hours after they arrived home. “Bye Matt,” you squeaked as you walked him to the door and he awkwardly avoided eye contact with your roommates. “I’m sorry. Was that Matt Rempe?” The jaw of your roommate fell open.
The friends with benefits relationship took a turn when Matt invited you over for dinner. “I don’t really know how to cook?” he admitted. “You invited me for dinner and don’t know how to cook?” “I didn’t think I’d get this far!” His laugh filled the kitchen and your heart skipped a beat. His head leaned down, “I think I really like you.” His lips met yours and you didn’t hesitate to kiss back.
It was a routine. Waking up in bed with Matt, his alarm going off for practice, having what you were 99.9% sure were dates. When he was traveling, you would use your spare key to his place to water his plants. Plus the sex was good. “I need a date,” you caught his lips with yours. He hummed, “I’m going to Toronto in a couple of days.” You already knew that. You had memorized his schedule. “My friend is having a dinner party tonight.”
“I have a game,” he whined. “I would love to come but I can’t.” You frowned. You knew he had a game but for some reason, you were hopeful he would still be able to make it. It was almost like this was the moment of clarity. Matt wasn’t your boyfriend. This wasn’t a real relationship. There weren’t labels on this. You two weren’t exclusive. He had no reason or obligation to show up to your events just because you asked. “I should get going,” you swallowed hard. His blanket was wrapped around your body as you sat up. “(Y/N). Don’t be like that.”
“I have to go Matt.” You gathered your clothes from the night before, getting dressed as Matt searched for his own sweatpants. “Let me walk you down.” You shook your head. “I think I want to walk out alone.”
It was a slap in the face. Realizing that you and Matt weren’t really together. This started as a hook up. You were attached now. You fell in love with waking up next to him, smiling at the tv when your roommates forced you to watch his games, having half dates which were mainly eating dinner before he took you to bed.
The Rangers game drowned on in the background of the dinner party. It wasn’t a formal dinner party, more of a potluck with cheap food and booze. “Thought you were bringing someone,” your friend slid in beside you as you made yourself another drink. “Yeah,” you swallowed, eyes falling on the tv, “he’s busy tonight.” The Rangers lost.
Matt was pissed by the end of the night. His texts weren’t being responded to. You weren’t answering. By the time the game ended and he was out of Madison Square Garden, your heavy hand had poured way too much into each of your drinks. It was crowded in your apartment. The food was picked over and theoretically the party should have been winding down but it wasn’t. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, Matt was calling. “I should take this,” you hiccuped, accidentally standing too fast and toppling over the Drunk Jenga your friends were playing.
“Hello?” Your words were slurring together. “Are you drunk?” Matt immediately questioned. Another hiccup. “Why do you care if I am? You’re not my boyfriend.”
The words stung him. He really did like you. He wanted to be your boyfriend. It was just that every time he wanted to ask you, he chickened out. “Are you at your apartment?” he inquired. “Yeah.” Your voice was annoyed, he was pissing you off. Matt’s long legs helped with the power walk to your apartment. He snuck into the building behind some people who were leaving. He knew his way around.
The apartment door was unlocked but he didn’t want to just walk in. Knocking, he prayed someone would hear him. “Hello,” your roommate sang as she opened the door. “Oh,” she was taken aback. “Um, (Y/N)!” she shouted. Within seconds, a commotion was heard, laughter as you stumbled to the door. Your mouth ran dry. “Matt.”
“Can we talk?” his voice boomed in your ears. He didn’t wait for a response, he pulled you along to your bedroom, ignoring the looks from your roommates and friends watching. “Why are you here?” He sat you on the bed, looking for your typical water bottle you kept in there. “I like you. A lot. You got really cold this morning. I know I’m not your boyfriend but I really want to be. But you’re drunk right now and it’s not right for me to ask you now.”
You stared at him in disbelief. “You like me?” He sighed and nodded, “I like you. A lot.”
When the sun poured into the bedroom, you were in your bed, in pajamas now, head pounding and feeling the urge to throw up. Matt was next to you. He felt miles away though. He was still asleep when you stumbled out of bed and went to throw up from the amount of alcohol you had consumed.
You were surprised you even remembered Matt’s confession. But you remembered how much you begged him to stay last night. When you returned to your room, he was awake. “Matt?” your voice was soft. “I like you too. A lot.”
“Kinda gathered that from the way you begged me to stay last night.” Your face heated up. “C’mere.” You embarrassingly made your way to your own bed quickly, sitting there. Matt dragged you into his arms and lap. “Tell me you like me again,” he asked.
“I like you,” you repeated. He kissed you, “I like you too.”
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landograndprix · 11 months
Text
「Feel the magic ๛ l.n」
part vii
✧.* you've finally secured your well deserved p1 after months of suffering with red bull and while you celebrate it the right way, love is in the air and everybody sees it now.
✧.* when i think about my muppets i think about this song, should i make like a playlist of songs that remind me of this fic, give y'all the vibes ive been having? 👀 spelling mistakes add character, don't mind them 🥰 this is a psa for the people who wanted to be on my taglist but never got tagged, i didn't forget or ignore you, I simply am unable to tag you and therefore removed you from the list feel free to ask me again so I can take a look at it. Taglist is open Love ya ❤️
✧.* prev part - next part
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y/nusername
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liked by landonorris, milouberger and 453,789 others
y/nusername I'd like to thank my parents— p1 baby!🏆
tagged: mclaren
view all 742 comments
y/nloveee yes baaaaabbyyyyy 🤩🤩
norrizz one big fat fuck you to red bull!
adam_norris_pure_electric amazing race, amazing driver!🥇
carlandooo oh my gosh, I'm dead, Adam out here supporting his future daughter in law 😭
norry4 stop it 😭
ricky78 bring it home y/n!
natewhite this girls good, she should try racing in f1..
carlossainz55 well deserved! 🔥
chilisainz wish I had a supportive ex boyfriend 💀
y/nlandooo we're so back with our 1-2!
yourmomsuser super proud of you! 🥰
milouberger back where you belong!
hamilt44n girl, shut up..as if you didn't try to push her off the track halfway..🤨
redbullgirl come back please, perez is a joke 😢
landonorris that's my girlfriend 😍
bott_ass we were aware 😂
landonorris you got any plans tonight? wanna celebrate?
landosmclaren HOWLING ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED
maxfewtrell mega race 🙌
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landonorris posted on their story
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cecilemoulin posted to their story
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y/nusername
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liked by landonorris, riabish and 689,872 others
y/nusername ending an amazing weekend with my favorite lil' guy 🧡
tagged: landonorris
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norrizz honestly such a power couple!!
sharl16 oh they in love love huh?
bott_ass not the after sex selfie 😭
bananaclerc I was looking for this comment 😭
y/nlando y/n's finally showing more of her and lando on here 🥺
mrsnorris 🤮 get someone your own age 🤮
cecilemoulin I just know y'all were late because you've been watching tiktok's in bed all morning..
y/nusername Cecile thirst trap edits go hard
carlandooo y'all think y/n finally realised she likes this man? Seemed pretty one sided to me for a hot minute 😂
ceciley/n I think Cecile said in an interview that THEY aren't used to dating younger dudes and that she felt out of place for the first few weeks..pretty sure she meant herself and y/n 😉
carlandooo CECILE IS DATING SOMEONE?
ceciley/n yeah..max fewtrell? Girl where have you been? 😂
carlandooo under a fucking rock apparently! Wow, these girls really said young, cute and british? Yes ma'am 🥰 so real of them
ceciley/n a couple of besties dating another couple of besties 😂
hamilt44n where are Carlos and Pierre now? You think they gave up? :')
landonorris favourite lil' muppet 🧡
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Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @glow-ish
Feel the magic taglist: @celesteblack08 @mrsmaybank13 @cha-hot @judesgfirl @roseseraj @kissesandmartinis @jpg3 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @marialovesf1 @silkenthusiasts @luvrrish @laneyspaulding19 @emily-b @formula1bby @judespoisons @buckybarnessweetheart @strawberrychita @iifloweringnightsii @buendiabebeta @jjsprobablywrong @babyvinnie @mishaandthebrits @hockeyboysarehot
Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10
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wlntrsldler · 5 months
Text
THE PROPHECY | LUKE CASTELLAN
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synopsis: series of events between zeus!reader and luke that started the prophecy. not canon-compliant; inspired by the prophecy by taylor swift.
series masterlist | previous | next
Hand on the throttle, thought I caught lightning in a bottle, but it's gone again.
"Do you think Thalia knew I loved her?"
There was a bite in the air, as there always was when the summer began to fade and fall began to creep up at Camp Half-Blood. It happened every year, at least for the past three years you've called Camp Half-Blood your home.
Luke sat beside you on the hard, dirt floor, looking up at the green of Thalia's pine tree. The summer campers knew of her legend, but it was the year-rounders like you and Luke who understood her sacrifice best. There was a feeling of guilt and gratitude that engulfed all of you, like the protection Thalia blanketed over the campgrounds. You were thankful that demigods had a place to feel safe, but it came at the cost of a life. Thalia should be here.
"Of course she knew," Luke replied, unconsciously yanking out the blades of grass that flourished between the cracks in the floor. "She's your sister."
"Yeah, but do you think she knew I chose to love her?" You clarified, turning your head to face him. You did this every year, you and Luke at the foot of Thalia's tree once the summer campers all left for the year. “I mean yeah, I had to love her because she’s my sister, but do you think she knows that I would’ve chosen to love her even if she wasn’t? I feel like I never told her that. We always fought.” 
Each year you studied Luke and noted the things that were different. He's older now. His arms were more defined, muscles beginning to form on his otherwise lanky frame. He'd grown taller in the last few months and his body was adjusting to his new height. The pants he wore all of last summer were discarded a few months ago. They stopped short on his ankles and Luke decided that it was time to let them go. 
Another bead was added to his necklace, three wooden beads clanking against each other, just like yours, when he moved his body too quickly. A new bracelet adorned his wrist given to him by a young girl in the Hermes cabin before she left to go back to Virginia for the year. Luke had a collection of bracelets stashed in his bedside drawer. It was a reminder of all the demigods he wanted to protect. Some became painful reminders of the ones he couldn't.
Luke pursed his lips, "Sisters fight. I don't think she took it personally."
Each year you studied Luke and treasured the things that stayed the same. He still had the same smile as he always did, bringing you back to when you and Thalia first met him all those years ago– just three kids fighting for your lives all on your own. You and Luke were the same age, him only your senior by a few weeks, but he took the protector role seriously. Luke was your safe place before Camp Half-Blood. 
His curls were the same, especially in the mornings when he first gets out of bed; all wild and unruly, just like how he is when he wasn't carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Some people say it's because he's the son of Hermes so mischief ran through his veins, but there was nothing about Luke that mirrored his father. He was too good to be like the gods.
"I just wish my last words to her weren't that," You uttered, a bitter taste in your mouth as you replayed your last conversation with Thalia. In the final stretch of your journey to Camp Half-Blood, you and Thalia got into an argument. In hindsight, it was petty, a disagreement that any older and younger sister would have, but it felt big at the moment. You didn't speak to her for two days. And then, in the blink of an eye, there was a blinding light, and suddenly, your little sister vanished.
You don't even remember what the fight was about anymore.
"You need to forgive yourself," He said, flicking away the blades of grass he had in between his fingertips, "This wasn’t on you."
He said this every year, yet it never felt rehearsed. It always felt genuine when Luke said it. You wondered if he got annoyed at how you brought this up each year, this never-ending feeling of guilt that you didn't turn around to see if Thalia was behind you, that you couldn't protect your little sister, but Luke was patient with you. If it bothered him that you thought about it often, he didn't show it.
"Sometimes it feels like it is," You whispered, watching a singular pine fall from a branch. You like to think that Thalia did these things to let you know that she's listening. "Our dad hasn't talked to me since."
Luke clenched his jaw, wiping his hand on the fabric of his cargo pants. His warm palm took your hand, giving it a soft squeeze, "You're better off."
"Maybe."
"You are," He said, clearing his throat. His chest felt heavy as he spoke. "I have to tell you something."
You turned your hand over, lacing your fingers together. Holding Luke's hand always felt right, even when you were fourteen and he had to drag you away to safety from the monsters who were out to get you; even when you were fifteen being woken up by the nightmares caused by the empty Zeus cabin, a chilling reminder that your sister was supposed to be there; even when you were sixteen and began to take on more responsibilities at camp despite your protests. "What is it, Luke?"
"I have a quest," He admitted. He'd been keeping this from you for days. He was meant to embark on this journey today, but he pleaded with his father to give him until tomorrow to begin. He knew the day the summer campers left was hard on you. 
Your stomach dropped. Luke had been waiting for a quest from his father for years. You watched him fall into a pit of despair every time a camper who'd been at camp for a shorter period of time got a quest and returned with the glory of the strongest and bravest champions. You knew Luke wanted the opportunity to prove himself to his father. This quest was it, but it didn't mean that you were enthusiastic about the idea. "When do you leave?"
"In a few hours."
"Oh."
"Are you upset?"
"No," You said, then paused. You thought about it. Luke let you think in silence, rubbing his thumb along your skin. "Yes, but I can't do anything about it. I can't stop it."
"Say the word and I will, you know that," Luke rebutted, staring at you now. "I won't go if you don't want me to."
"Luke," You sighed, "You can't deny the gods."
"For you, I'd try to." Sometimes Luke said things that worried you. You'd always been told that your allegiance should be to the gods, your parents. Sometimes you felt differently, but you never said it out loud, but Luke had no problem doing it. He made it clear that his allegiance was to the people he loved, to you. 
"You should go," You said, ignoring the shake in your voice. It was tempting to tell him to stay; Tell him to be content to live a quiet life in the safety of these grounds, to be content with the glory he received from being the head counselor of the Hermes cabin, as the best swordsman at camp. But Luke craved more to life than this, you knew that. He needed more than another notch on his belt from Capture the Flag. He deserved more. He deserved a father who cared about him. Maybe this quest is the key to giving him exactly what he needed. You couldn’t in good conscience keep him from that.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes." The lie burned your tongue. While some demigods returned victorious, some never returned at all. The thought of it made a chill run down your spine. It made Luke flinch.
He wrapped his arms around you. The position was awkward, but neither of you cared. When you were younger, his curls tickled the side of your cheek when you hugged him. You used to be able to look him in the eye back when you were the same height. You used to be able to memorize the features on his face; the crinkles by the side of his eyes that would appear when he'd smile, eyelashes brushing against the stray hairs of his eyebrows; full cheeks dusted with the faintest shade of pink from the beating sun or the wind chills; a crease under his lips that cast a shadow on his chin.
Now that you're older, his curls fell against your temple when he held you like this. His face was thinner, jaw more defined and cheeks hollow, like his youth was being drained from him each year. But his heart remained the same. A steady thump against your own, a beat that became synonymous with home. 
“I feel like this is a test,” He murmured, shaking as he spoke. He’ll blame it on the wind if you asked, but he knows that his words would fall flat. You always did know when things felt wrong with him. Sometimes he thought that you knew him better than he knew himself. Luke licked his lips, “Like he’s expecting me to fail and prove what he’s known all along.” 
“You always tell me that I’m more than what the gods think of me,” You said, looking up at him. Luke was staring at the sky, jaw rigid as he fought back the tears. There were only a handful of things that made Luke emotional– talking about his father was one of them. He used to cry when he talked about May, too, but now when someone asks about his mother, his tone turns robotic. He recited her fate like a broken record, waiting for the inevitable looks of pity from the onlookers. You brushed your thumb along his jaw, “Luke?” 
“Hm?” His eyes darted to yours, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips as he studied your features. Luke always knew you were beautiful, but sometimes when he was this close to you, it knocked the breath out of his lungs for a moment, like he couldn’t believe you were real. 
“You always tell me that I’m more than what they make me out to be,” You repeated, holding his face in the palm of your hand, “And yet you never believe it for yourself.” 
He couldn’t help but chuckle. You’d called him out on his hypocrisy more times than he could count. You were right, though. He did always tell you that the opinions of the gods didn’t matter, not when they didn’t know you like he knew you, not when they were too preoccupied in their own world to realize that you were the greatest thing they created. 
“You are more than what your father thinks.” 
He wanted to believe you, he really did, but all his life he’d been told that he was destined for something great. And yet the things he’d been able to accomplish so far seem so miniscule, irrelevant, in the context of the gods. He craved more. 
When Luke was a child, May Castellan used to mumble the same phrase over and over again. He didn’t think much of it then, nothing that his mother said usually made any sense to his nine-year-old self anyway, but the more time he spent at Camp Half-Blood, the clearer her words became. Luke was destined for something, it’s in the cards, it’s in the hands of fate. This quest might be it, the first step to reaching eternal glory. 
There are times though, during moments like this, with you beside him, when he thinks that he’ll be fine not reaching eternal glory. He can live out his life happily with just this; you and him at the foot of Thalia’s tree, with you telling him he’s more than what the gods want him to be. After all, he’d give up eternal glory if it meant being with you. 
“You’re gonna be okay without me around?” He teased. For years, it had always been you and Luke. It was a type of co-dependence that made Chiron and Mr. D's eyebrows raise. They found it dangerous. You overheard them talking in the Big House about it once, how unnatural it was for two demigods to choose each other despite the dangers of it. You joked that it was a trauma bond of sorts, but you and Luke both knew that it was more than that. Neither of you said it out loud, though, both too scared to ruin whatever this was.
“No, probably not,” You confessed. Your words took him by surprise. He was expecting you to join his teasing, but he found no trace of banter in your tone. You bit your bottom lip, “But you’re gonna come back, so I’ll be okay. I need to be okay with you being gone. I can’t expect things to always stay the same.” 
Luke couldn’t help but frown at your words. He knew you were right like you always were, but he didn’t like the idea of things changing. So much in his life moved with the tides, and up until he met you, he was fine with it. But the idea of the two of you changing, the idea of one day not having this, not having you, well, Luke didn’t think he could stomach the idea. His lips hovered over the crown of your head, almost touching you but not quite, “Not us, though. It will always be us.” 
Luke didn’t know what he was destined to do, what prophecy the gods and the Fates had in store for him, but the only thing he was sure of was you. And that was never going to change if he could help it.
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moonsatosugu · 1 year
Text
accidentally married
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[23:08 pm]
word count: 464
a/n: gojo brainrot rn .. i miss him .. I NEED HIM … my brain just creates scenarios i’d love to be in with him like i’m insane and need help .. anyways (〃∇〃)
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“okay, so explain what happened again?” shoko asked both you and gojo looking dumbfounded. you don’t blame her because the more you repeat it in your head, the less sense it makes.
“we accidentally got married?” your voice questions.
“how do you accidentally get married, y/n? and to gojo at that?” shoko looks between you both once more. yup, these are my friends alright.
“hey! why are you making it seem like i’d be a bad husband?” gojo exclaims next to you. “it’s not my fault she fell in love with me last ni-“ but he doesn’t get to finish as you smack the back of his head.
“oh shut up, it’s all your fault. we’re literally grown adults, how did we let this happen?” you groan to yourself.
“i don’t think you should go out drinking with him ever again.” shoko says. your eyes pan over to hers.
“you think? he didn’t even drink, shoko! he was completely sober!” you cry out. and you can just tell gojo is grinning like the absolute idiot he is.
“so what’s the plan now?” she sighs trying to steer the conversation to something more productive.
“divorce-“
“we live with it-“
you glare at gojo. “what do you mean we live with it?”
“well, what do you mean we divorce?” he frowns.
shoko pinches the bridge of her nose. "can the two of you just agree on something for once?"
you throw your hands in the air. "we accidentally tied the knot, shoko. how do you even 'agree' on something after that?"
"gojo," shoko says, eyeing him warily, "why do you want to stay married?"
he shrugs, his nonchalant demeanor in full force. "why not? it might be fun."
you choke on your own disbelief. "fun? you think this is fun?"
gojo smirks, throwing an arm around your shoulder. "well, think about it, y/n. this is the universe telling us we’re meant to be. that you’re in lo-"
"yeah right," you scoff knowing deep down he isn’t too far off. but it’s not something you wish for him to know yet at least. “well the universe seems to be playing a sick joke on me. isn’t it basically telling me i’m done for?”
he laughs. "or that there's a thin line between love and hate."
you pause, the weight of his words sinking in. shoko rolls her eyes. "look, if you two want to play house, that's your call. but you'd better figure this out before word gets out."
"gojo, are you serious about this?" you ask quietly.
he nods, the mischief in his eyes replaced by sincerity. "why not? i don’t really mind giving it a shot."
you sigh, realizing that your life with gojo, unpredictable as it already was, just took an even wilder turn.
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luveline · 1 year
Note
Hi there! I hope your day’s been going well :)
Could you maybe write something with Spencer where Reader faints? Feel free to ignore this if you’re not up for it!!
thank u for ur request! fem!reader, 1.6k
"It's so hot," you say, startled. The lobby of the hotel had been blissfully air-conditioned. The difference hits you immediately. 
"Don't worry about blazers or professional attire," Hotch says, though he quickly amends, "within reason."
You take off your jacket and follow the herd of the BAU into the black SUVs. The SUVs are even hotter than the outdoors, blistering ovens of heat that have you feeling nauseous instantaneously. Spencer rubs your arm with the back of his hand swiftly —it's a friendly touch to say he's here, but it's quick to prevent any unnecessary added heat. 
It's August in Texas, 107 degrees Fahrenheit. Emily smells distinctly of sunscreen from the front passenger seat. Derek, behind the wheel, looks hot around the collar. Spencer looks as though he wishes he'd had a haircut before he came, chin length curls tucked tight behind his ears. 
Despite this, none of them complain beyond the general whine every now and then. You try very hard to shut up and focus on the case with them, but as the day goes on, bumping you from hot car to hot crime scene (with all inclusive smells of gore!), you feel wobbly on your feet. 
"Spence?" you ask, sitting in a hard-backed chair in the police precinct. 
"Yeah?" He doesn't look away from the geographical profile he's building. You're supposed to be helping, but your notes are half-hearted, likely useless. "What?" 
"Do you have any water?" 
He pushes a pin into the left of the map and grabs a ruler. "No, sorry. There's a staff room by the bullpen, the secretary said to help ourselves. Actually, she said to 'go ham.'"
"Okay. I'll be right back. And I'll be more helpful." 
"You're plenty helpful," he murmurs, leaning down to follow the line of his rules with a pencil. 
You don't feel helpful, you feel awful. Head heavy, eyes aching, every step sends a jolt through your teeth and jaw, your skull like a mashed potato. You know you're a poor sight with sweat wetting your hair and a crawling sensation between your legs and the fabric of your pants. 
Letting yourself into the staff room, you're unsurprised to find a bone dry water cooler and a crate of water bottles with only one remaining. Spencer needs a drink too, and he has a thing about germs. You frown at the water bottle as though that might duplicate it, but when it doesn't, you're forced to take it and put it under your arm. You look around for a mug to at least have some tap water no matter how ill-advised that may be. They're all dirtied in the sink and on tables. Fuck. 
Spencer is super, super lovely to you. You wonder sometimes if he might ask you out, or at least want to, but most of the time you're sure it's just a little extra friendliness because he knows how it feels to be the youngest on the team, how patronised or lonely it gets. And the weight of trying to prove yourself every mission, it's almost as heavy as your head. 
"Hey," Spencer says as you open the conference room door. "I think I've worked something out. Could you call Garcia for me? I've got dry-erase marker on my hands." 
"Got this for you," you say, offering him the bottle. He takes it without looking. 
"Thanks. Are you feeling any better? I know you can be sensitive to the heat." 
"Maybe we can get portable fans on the FBI budget next year," you say wistfully, pushing a chair in at the table. You lean on it to grab the phone in the middle of a sea of papers and cases and jackets, black spots popping up in your vision. "My head's rushing." 
"Hey, guys," Emily says, sounding strangely chipper as she and Hotch trudge in. Her hair is in a tight ponytail away from her face. 
You try to greet them and end up hanging your head. 
"Y/N," Spencer chokes, alarmed.
You slump forward over the chair, desperate to keep your footing and failing. Your shin knocks into the chair and your hands grasp at the top of it, but you can't hold yourself up any longer, knocking your face into the chair as you collapse. A cheap tent in a strong breeze, you fall with little more than a weak sigh. 
You're hurting a lot when you come to, blinking like your lashes have been brushed with glue. The lights have been turned off, and a blissful chill soaks your hairline. Someone presses a water bottle to your lips and lifts your head. You drink half the contents in three gulps and get laid down again with the utmost care. 
"She's coming around," Hotch says. 
Your neck aches propped over a leg. Two deft hands hold your head still. 
"Don't move too much," Spencer says, his voice odd. You blink as his face moves into view upside down. "An EMT is on the way, okay? You passed out." 
You can't find your voice. Spencer strokes your cheek with his thumb, says, "Hey, can you hear me? Let's hear your voice. Talk to me." 
"You don't sound like yourself," you say hoarsely, each word tenuous. You wince at the bruising heat that radiates from your nose with each word. 
"I'm worried about you," Spencer admits. "It makes it hard to stay objective." 
"No, you sound funny." 
"I'm worried," he repeats. His smile is strained. 
"She's okay," Hotch says. 
You realise Emily's got your hand in hers when she squeezes it. "Have you had anything to drink today?" she asks you, fondly incredulous. 
"No, she hasn't, and I didn't say anything about it. I'm an idiot. I'm so sorry, Y/N," Spencer says. 
"Y/N's responsible for her own preservation, Reid. And it's been a tough case, with the heat. Let's not blame anyone for anything." You press your chin to your chest to see Hotch's anxious frown. "We will be having a discussion about this later." 
You turn your face into Spencer's thigh. "Oh." 
"Don't close your eyes," Hotch says. He employs a firm, boss-like tone that has you rushing to follow orders. "You hit your head." 
"I don't feel well," you complain, wanting to close your eyes.
"Considering your behaviour," Spencer says, one of his hands trailing down your face, neck, and collar, where he rests it genially, "you likely have a mild to moderate concussion. And you're dehydrated, so you'll be feeling the effects more severely."
"Why haven't you been drinking?" Emily asks. 
"I just…" You blink sluggishly. "I don't know… We don't take anything that isn't coffee with us places and…" You lean your cheek into Spencer's hand, not quite connecting that it's his hand, or that you're laying on the precinct floor. "They only had one bottle in the staff room." 
"Why didn't you drink it?" Spencer asks softly. 
"I knew you hadn't had anything to drink, either." 
"We could've shared," he says, sounding genuinely confused. 
"You don't like sharing stuff like that. Germs." 
Spencer's voice is barely above a whisper, "I wouldn't care about your germs, Y/N. They're your germs." 
You don't have time to ask him what he means, but you've ample time to think about it on loop when the EMT arrives. He props you up, checking you over thoroughly, shining a light in your eyes and deeming you concussed.
"You don't have to see a doctor," the EMT advises. "But we're happy to take you to the hospital if that's what you want." 
"Yes," Spencer says, as you say, "No." 
Spencer puts a hand on your shoulder blade. It is an extremely forward move on his part, so unlike him that you recognise how odd it is despite your foggy mind. "She should go." 
"She fainted, Spencer," Emily says. 
"Exactly! So she should go to the hospital and–"
"I didn't break anything," you say, waving a shaky hand at the small but concerned crowd of people you've attracted. 
"Luckily," the EMT says. "Drink plenty of water and take it easy. Don't be afraid to call again if you feel worse." 
Hotch walks the EMT out, needing to take a phone call. Emily goes with him, promising to return with a dry shirt for you to wear now that yours has been soaked at the collar by the water they'd been cooling you down with while you were unconscious. 
Spencer settles practically knee to knee with you in two of the uncomfortable chairs, his assessing gaze frankly perturbing. 
"You'd share germs with me?" you ask. 
Spencer's hand leaps across the gap to yours where it rests on your knee. His eyes, brown and sweet, have all the light of a blinding smile as his lips quirk into something more sheepish. "If it stopped you from fainting, yeah. And even if it didn't, I'd be stupid to care about germs when I…" 
You breathe out slowly. "When you what?" 
"Well," he says, looking down at your hands. "I guess I just wouldn't mind your germs, that's all." 
If he's saying what you think he's saying, he's doing it in the most Spencer Reid way possible. Concussed, your charisma fails you. You've no wit to tease him with. 
You fold your hand around his. "Thanks for catching me," you say gently. 
He squeezes your fingers clumsily. "You're welcome. But it was actually mostly Emily." 
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oo-delallymrcrow · 5 months
Text
The Babysitter
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A/N: I haven't jumped on a bandwagon so fast but this man has made me start writing again so here you go. Thank you so much for the love on my last story. It made my day 😊
This story is a little more spicy. Nothing to explicit and more suggestive.
Cooper had just moved into the neighborhood. Of course, with this divorce, Barbara got the house, and he had to move out.
He sighed as he went to check his mail when the sound of a door opening caught his attention. His new neighbor was a dad and a daughter who he got to know when they helped him move in. Y/N walked out with a smile and waved to him. Cooper smiled and waved back.
“Heading out to work, Y/N?” He called out as she walked toward him.
Cooper was older but not blind. Y/N was a young, beautiful woman that caught his attention. With her radiant smile and kind demeanor, she seemed like a breath of fresh air in his life.
“No Mr. Howard,” she laughed out, “not work. I'm still in college. Hopefully this degree will help get me one though.”
He hummed in agreement as she walked past him. He looked up to see her still walking before he called out to her.
“You walkin’?”
She stopped and turned to him. “Yeah? Gotta catch the bus.”
He stepped toward her and gestured back to the house.
“You're daddy doesn't take you?”
She shook her head, “no sir. He’s a businessman so he's on the road a lot.”
Cooper looked at his car before making up his mind.
“How about I take you then sweetheart?”
She smiled shyly down at her shoes, “oh I don't want to put you out Mr. Howard.”
“Please,” he scoffed as he led her toward his car. “You're not sweetheart. I'll be happy to know you're getting there safely.”
He opened the door as she smiled again, “thank you Mr. Howard.”
He smiled as her hand brushed along his as he muttered a welcome.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As Cooper pulled into his driveway, Janey was excited to be staying the weekend with her dad and was talking admittedly.
“-and then we can watch cartoons with some pancakes. Can we have pancakes for dinner? I think we should have pancakes for dinner.”
Cooper chuckled as he helped Janey out of the car.
“Whatever you want kiddo. It's our weekend for fun.”
She grinned up at him when a voice called out.
“Hi Mr. Howard. How's your day been?”
Cooper looked up at Y/N as she was walking past his house into her yard. She was smiling at him and glanced down at Janey at his side.
“And hello to you too.”
Janey smiled up at her and waved.
“Hi my name's Janey. I'm staying with my dad this weekend and we're having pancakes for dinner.”
Y/N’s smile widened and she glanced at Cooper, making his heart skip a beat at the glee he saw on her face. He remembered when he was taking her to school she mentioned that she wanted to be a teacher and how much she loved kids.
“Oh wow! You're a lucky kid. I wished I had pancakes for dinner. Are you going to have bacon and eggs too?”
Janey giggled as she nodded, “yes and we're going to watch cartoons!”
Y/N gasped, “Wow you have an amazing night planned huh?”
“Yep. It's gonna be a great weekend.”
Cooper watched the interaction with happiness blooming in his heart. He didn't think his daughter would like Y/N but she took a shine to her so easily. He was thinking about whether she would like to babysit some nights when he had her, when Janey interrupted his thoughts.
“Do you want to join us? You can have pancakes with us.”
Cooper snapped his head to Janey as she grinned up at him. His eyes narrowed at his daughter when a twinkle hit her eye. She turned to Y/N smiling sweetly at her.
“My daddy and I would love for you to come over. We can watch his new movie together.”
‘Oh this little-’ Cooper ran his hand down his face as he felt himself turn a little red at Janey's words.
He looked up at Y/N and saw her face look like it matched hers. He felt a little bad but thought why the hell not.
“Well,” he drawled out as her gaze shot to him. Her eyes made him pause as the setting sun caught the shine in them. They were really pretty. “If you're not busy. We would like you to join us.”
Y/N smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear before shaking her head.
“No, I'm not busy tonight.” She looked at Janey. “I would love to join you.”
She glanced up at Cooper, “and you're dad.”
He smiled and Janey squealed out a yes as she ran up the door to his house. She came over with a laugh. She offered to help bring Janey's things in as Cooper shook his head.
“Come on sweetheart. You are a guest and you need to relax. Now go on.”
Y/N blushed and he liked the look on her. She held the door open for him as he followed behind. Janey was playing with Roosevelt, giggling as he licked her face with his tail wagging in excitement. Y/N walked into the living room and let Roosevelt sniff her hand before giving it a lick. She smiled and leaned down to pet and scratch behind his ear, cooing about how he's a good boy.
Cooper smiled as he walked back to the extra bedroom he claimed was Janey's. As he set her suitcase down Janey's voice came from the doorway.
“Daddy?”
He knelt down as she walked up to him.
“Yes pumpkin?”
“I hope I didn't make you upset with inviting Y/N over. She just seemed really nice and she sounded like she was lonely.”
Cooper kissed the top of her head as he smiled, “you didn't upset me pumpkin. I think she was happy you invited her over. Now let's go make those pancakes before you get hungry.”
Janey smiled at her dad as he followed her out. Smiling at Y/N as she looked up from petting Roosevelt on the floor. She smiled and let Janey sit right next to her as she started asking about Y/N.
“What's your favorite cartoon? Oh do you like purple? My favorite color is purple.”
Cooper chuckled as he walked into the kitchen. The sound of his house filling with talk and laughter, something he was missing for awhile.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After that night Cooper asked Y/N if she would babysit for him if he ever got busy at work. She smiled and enthusiastically said yes and to give her a call whenever he needed her. When a day came that he needed her, she didn't hesitate to come over and wave him away with a laugh.
So, it became a little routine. He got a busy day with shooting, running a little late into the night. When coming home she would have Janey in bed and a home-cooked meal ready for him. It made Cooper want to spend more time with her than immediately sending her home. So he made sure to strike up conversations whenever she came over, always finding excuses to linger a little longer in her presence.
It was nice. It made Cooper feel normal after all of the chaos. Whenever they did just sit together or the random times he would come home to Y/N and Janey having dinner. She would smile and fix him a plate as he sat down. They all laughed and enjoyed dinner together. It was a happy little family.
So his mind started putting her into different fantasies. They started innocent at first. A family day around town. Going grocery shopping together. Just sitting by the fireplace, cuddling up together, as Janey sat and played with her dolls or coloring while watching tv.
Then one night as Cooper had trouble falling asleep, his mind went down a different path. Coming home to you and bending you over the counter. Making you stay in bed all day as he worshipped your body. That's what you deserved after taking care of him so well.
He felt a little guilty when he had to clean himself after coming to the thought of you, but it was his little secret that he didn't share. He knew it was just one sided and didn't have a chance with her.
Until a day came where she flirted with him. It caught him by surprise. He didn't think anyone would find him attractive with how much older he was. But there you were and it made his heart beat just a little faster.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was a Saturday morning. Janey wasn't with him this weekend so he slept in a little longer. When he got out of bed and walked to the kitchen to get some coffee the doorbell rang out. He huffed and went to open it, not expecting anyone this morning.
Opening the door, Y/N was standing there with a bright smile like always. Her mouth dropped open a little at surprise and it made Cooper confused. Until he realized he goes to bed with just sleep pants and he was standing in front of you shirtless. He felt heat in his cheeks and spread down his neck as he cleared his throat.
“Sorry Y/N. Um, can I help you?”
He watched as her gaze ran down his body before catching his eye again. She blushed and glanced away.
“Sorry Mr. Howard. I was coming over to see Janey.”
“Oh,” he cleared his throat, bringing her attention back to him.
“She's not here. She's at her mother's this weekend.”
She blinked up at him before making an ‘oh’ face. She scratched the side of her head before slightly turning away.
“Sorry for interrupting your morning then. I'll be on my way.”
Before she could fully turn around, Cooper called out.
“Wait, um did you want to come inside? I was going to make coffee. Maybe if you joined me I'll make a little breakfast for us.”
She turned back and bite her bottom lip. “I would like that.”
He stepped back and let Y/N walk past him. She was trying not to let her gaze linger and wander. But he saw her eyes drop down again and it made Cooper feel heated.
He followed her into the living where he stopped and motioned towards his room.
“I'll just go throw on a shirt and then I'll make us breakfast.”
He walked down the hall but stopped suddenly when he heard her say, “I'd prefer if you didn’t.”
His eyes widened before he shouted, “what was that?”
He heard her let out a little squeak and a nothing. It made Cooper feel better about himself. It made him feel attractive again. So he walked out standing a little taller and was more confident about himself.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Apparently she wanted the same. And over the next few weeks he noticed that they both flirted back and forth. She started staying an extra hour or two just to sit and talk about their day. Shooting was a bitch sometimes and classes made her want to rip her hair out.
“I'm surprised that- what's his name?” Cooper looked up at her as she chewed at her lip.
“Matthew,” she sighed out, throwing her head back to face the ceiling.
He took the opportunity to let his gaze run down her body. She was just sitting there and there he was, wondering if she threw her head back when she pleasured herself. Gasping up to the ceiling and-
Cooper shook his head with a groan. Making her look at him in concern.
“Are you alright Mr. Howard?”
“Fine darlin’.” He growled out as he faced away from her.
He heard a hitch in her breath at his new nickname for her and it made him smirk a little.
“What did Matthew do?”
She groaned and buried her face into her hands. She mumbled a reply and leaned toward her to pull her hands away from her face.
“Couldn't quite hear you,” he smirked, “darlin’.”
Her breath got caught again and she looked away with a blush as she spoke.
“He asked me out on a date.”
Cooper looked at her and couldn't help the bolt of jealousy that went through him. He cleared his throat and stood up to head to the bar to get a drink.
“Is there anything wrong with that?”
‘Quit talking Cooper.’ He poured himself some whiskey. ‘Don't say anything stupid. Don't need to scare her off.’
“A beautiful woman such as yourself should have a boys falling at your feet. I know I would”
It was silent for a minute before he faced her with a grimace.
‘Said the stupid thing.’
She looked down at the couch, picking at a stray string on her sweater. He wished he kept his mouth shut as he took a step forward.
“Sorry if I made it awkward.”
She shook her head quickly, “no you didn't make it awkward Mr. Howard. I just don't like…”
Her face flushed red looking up at him before shooting her gaze back down. He chewed at his bottom lip and gazed down at the glass in his hand.
“I don't like boys,” she finished her statement making Cooper raise his gaze to hers. Surprised that she held it as he felt heat raise up his neck toward his cheeks. He cleared his throat before asking.
“What do you mean-”
“Men.” She stated bluntly. “I like older men. A man who is willing to take care of me and show me new things to try.”
She stood and slowly walked to him. His gaze running up and down her body as she sauntered up to him.
“Uh-”
“I like when a man takes care of his child.” She smiles up at him and glances off to the side.
“It shows me that he's a good father and,” she bite at her lip as she ran a hand down his chest. Cooper held his breathe as she looked up at him. “I wouldn't mind him putting a few kids into me.”
Cooper threw his glass to the side to cup her face and smashed his lips against hers. The past few weeks making Cooper take his chance. She let out a small squeak but followed his lead. He ran his hand down to her hip and turned them around as he backed her up into the wall. He placed his other hand beside her head on the wall as he pulled away to catch his breath.
He waited as Y/N slowly opened her eyes in a daze before he licked his lips.
‘Sweet,” he thought as he tasted her chapstick. ‘Of course she tastes sweet.’
“Darlin'” he practically growled put as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “You need to tell me now if you want this. If you want to walk out and forget it happened.”
Cooper paused at that statement and hoped to god she didn't reject him.
“Cooper,” she all but purred as she stood up and tip toes. “If I didnt want this. I wouldnt have flirted with you until you got the hint.”
She brushed her lips to his as he ran his hand down to squeeze her ass. She let out a harsh breath and whined as he chuckled.
“Duly noted sweetheart.”
He pressed his lips to hers again as she moaned out. He pressed his body and slotted his leg between hers. She threw her head back with a cry of his name as she rolled her hips. It clicked in his head that she was calling him Cooper instead of Mr. Howard. He pressed a few soft kisses down her neck.
“Never thought I'd like my name falling out of your mouth this much.”
She let out a small breathless laugh as he nibbled at her ear.
“You should hear when I moan it, done that a few times. Maybe screamed it too.”
Cooper let out a low moan and pulled away to hoist Y/N up and over his shoulder. She giggled as he walked down the hallway to his bedroom muttering about how she's being a tease.
“Gonna have to teach ya a few manners, darlin’.”
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dewdropdinosaur · 7 months
Text
Redemption is Best Served Hot
LUCIFER x READER Part Two Summary: You are like the mom Charlie always wanted. And like the partner Lucifer wishes he had. Warnings: NONE. REQUESTS ARE OPEN! See pinned post for details
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In the bustling underworld of Hell, where chaos and mayhem were the order of the day, there stood a peculiar establishment known as the Hazbin Hotel. Run by the optimistic and determined demon princess, Charlie, the hotel aimed to rehabilitate wayward souls and give them a chance at Heaven. 
You, an older demon, found yourself entangled in the unique tapestry of the Hazbin Hotel. Drawn to Charlie's mission and warmth, you had become an essential part of the hotel's daily operations. As the pseudo-mother to Charlie and the other inhabitants, Y/N provided a sense of stability and care in the tumultuous underworld. A pillar of support for the lost souls seeking refuge within the hotel's walls, helping with the cleaning, aiding anyone with anything; you were in fact quite literally acting mother to all six inhabitants. Not that they minded, each loved you in their own way. Even Alastor, who would not admit it to himself that maybe your cooking could have rivaled his own mother’s.
“Nifty darling, here. Don’t run around with that old knife. This one is much sharper.” “Oooooo, thank you! BUGS PREPARE TO DIE!”
“Angel, poor thing. Come here, let me draw you a bath and we can talk all about it….or we can just sit in silence. Whatever you would like.” “Yeah…that woulds be good.” 
“The new shipment just arrived, Husk! Do you want me to help you carry it in?” “Nah, I got it. But thanks.”
“PENTIOUS! What did I say about letting the Egg Bois into my kitchen?!”  “Sssssory Mssss Y/N.”  “It’s alright dear, just…please be more mindful of them. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
“Vaggie, no you may not kill Alastor.” “But..!” “No buts! You will respect Charlie’s wishes. And that goes for you too, Alastor.” “Oh me? Darling, it would be a pleasure to do as her highness commands.” 
And so on and so forth as the world goes. 
Over the years, Lucifer, the charismatic and charming ruler of Hell, found himself increasingly drawn to you after the original spout with Heaven. It wasn't just your unparalleled dedication to the hotel or the unwavering support you offered to Charlie; it was a magnetic force that pulled him towards you. Lucifer, accustomed to the chaos and seduction that surrounded him, found the calm demeanor and genuine kindness irresistible. In the dimly lit chambers of the hotel, Lucifer found himself captivated by your unwavering dedication and boundless compassion. He admired the way you effortlessly navigated the tumultuous currents of Hell, offering solace to those who had long abandoned hope. 
One evening, as the residents of the Hazbin Hotel gathered for a makeshift family dinner, Lucifer couldn't help but steal glances at you throughout. Laughter echoed through the room, bringing an unusual warmth to the usually cold and unforgiving realm. Lucifer found himself captivated by the way you effortlessly connected with the diverse souls seeking salvation and he felt his heart twinge a little. The scene was sweet, almost too much so. It made him long for something he had never had with Lillith or thought he could ever have. He hardly touched his food all night, too enthralled with you and your presence. You were like an angel, ironically so. 
After the meal and asking the Egg Bois to clean up(they were kind enough to oblige), you retreated to the hotel's back rooms with a book in hand, a haven of peace in the chaotic underworld. Lucifer followed, the air thick with an unspoken tension. You, engrossed in a book, hadn't bothered to notice the King of Hell until he cleared his throat. With a small flush of embarrassment at accidentally ignoring him, you looked up and met Lucifer's piercing gaze with a soft smile, setting your book aside. 
“What can I do for you Lucifer?”
"Quite the family you've built here," Lucifer commented, his voice a silky blend of charm and authority.
Smiling and setting the book aside, you laughed softly. "They're a unique bunch, but they deserve a chance at redemption, don't they?"
Lucifer nodded, taking a step closer. "And what about you, Y/N?” 
Your gaze met Lucifer's, eyes reflecting a depth of understanding about the true meaning of his question. "We're all seeking something, aren't we? Redemption, forgiveness, a second chance."
Lucifer reached out, gently tracing a finger along Y/N's cheek. "And what do you seek, Y/N?"
Your  heart fluttered, and as you took a deep breath you held his gaze. Oh how he loved that dazed look in your eyes. He wanted you to look up at him that way everyday if possible. Just the way your sparkling and your lips parted so sinfully sweet, he knew even the original sin barrer himself could be tempted. "I seek a chance to make a difference, to maybe bring a little of Heaven down here when I could never do it when I was alive."
Lucifer leaned in, his lips dangerously close to your ear. "Perhaps you've already brought light to the darkest corner of my realm."
Lucifer then pulled away, a small flush gracing his cheeks. He tipped his hat in acknowledgement before leaving the room without another word. Once outside the door, Lucifer pressed back up against a wall and could feel his undead heart about to beat out of his chest. Placing a hand over his chest in order to calm himself back down, the King of Hell flew back to his castle with a giant grin on his face. 
You too were no stranger to the effects of his…flirting. A giant grin and flush appeared on your face as you sunk back down into the chair you were sitting in. Giggling like a schoolgirl, you kicked your feet happily and ignored the book you were once reading. 
A forbidden connection sparked between Lucifer and you, a dance of redemption and desire in the heart of Hell, where the Hazbin Hotel stood as an peculiar beacon of hope. For in the heart of Lucifer Morningstar, amidst the chaos of Hell's domain, love had found its most unlikely champion.
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arminsumi · 7 months
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♡ 𝐈 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮 | 𝟓
❝ ​... it's been a while since I last fell in love.❝
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All chapters | AO3
Pairing : fem reader / Gojo Satoru / Geto Suguru
Synopsis : a kiss before your flight home.
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Summer with you felt fuller and brighter than any other.
Waving sparklers in the humid night air. Sore feet after walking for hours. Mesmerized by the feeling of life whirling around you. Winning a squish mallow from a claw machine and watching Satoru and Suguru rock-paper-scissor fight over who got to keep it. Listening to Satoru and Suguru’s murmured conversations, and feeling giddy when you got the gist of something they said. Feeling your heart throb and ears perk up when they mentioned your name. Laughing embarrassedly into a pillow when you tried to speak Japanese and got everything wrong — Satoru's enamored smile.
It felt like you were in a rush to enjoy everything sometimes, because your return flight date loomed in the back of your mind. Suguru was nervous to show you Japan in a light that you'd never forget, and Satoru was just oblivious to all the sight-seeing and festivals because you were far more captivating.
On the train ride deeper into the city, Satoru sat thigh-against-thigh with you. The both of you were very consciously aware of contact, the press and the warmth. At your left, Suguru leaned close, the fabric of his t-shirt grazing your arm giving you butterflies.
Heads together, all three of you took turns in Satoru's diary; writing your names, scribbling, doodling, until the page was filled from corner to corner.
They talked about Nanami, who was going to meet you for the first time.
Suguru giggled at something Satoru said, so you asked what he was laughing at.
"Satoru's scared that Nanami is going to show off his English to you." he said.
“Oh?” you smiled.
("... and!") Satoru added dramatically, interrupting Suguru, ("He better not flirt with her.”)
Suguru went completely red in the face and laughed.
("Satoru, You're acting very boyfriend-like.")
("... oh, am I?")
("Yes.")
Satoru stopped talking, went redder than Suguru, and sat back in his seat like he was contemplating himself.
"What?" you asked, looking between them.
"Nothing." Suguru feathered, covering his face to hide his smile, "Nothing at all."
*****
Even you were taken aback by Nanami's English, because he spoke more elegantly than you did — so you can just imagine what expression Suguru had when he watched the two of you interact for the first time at the festival.
"Satoru's my senior at work, even if he doesn't act like it." he said. Satoru looked at him suspiciously as he spoke.
"Ohhh, I see." you nodded, "Then, you two met at work or...?"
"No, we went to high school together.” Nanami said.
You nodded again, "Ah."
"... he talks a lot about you." Nanami said, "Talks my ear off at the water cooler about this girl who lives on the other side of the world — with the biggest stars in his eyes. It's nice that you two could finally meet."
You smiled, "Yeah... this summer has been amazing."
"Have you ticked everything off your bucket list yet?" Nanami asked.
"Yes — though, I missed Tanabata." you said. “Maybe next year.”
The two of you kept talking. When you laughed at something Nanami said, Satoru threw a jealous look at him. Then he and Suguru talked under their breaths.
(“Are they flirting?”) Satoru asked suspiciously.
(“They are not.”)
(“It feels like they are.”)
(“… you really are acting like a boyfriend, Satoru…”)
*****
A blue night sky deepened as you three walked across the street crossing, closer to where residents were gathered and some dancing around a raised stage.
"I wish I could experience December here, too." you sighed dreamily.
"Why don't you?" Nanami asked.
"... the flights are too expensive." you replied.
"... what a shame. A romantic like Satoru would be over the moon to spend December with you." Nanami said. "Maybe next year, you two can go as a couple."
You acted shyer after realizing Nanami assumed you and Satoru were dating, and it was incredibly funny because Satoru misinterpreted your shyness to be a response to Nanami's flirting — so he interrupted the conversation right there.
Suguru stifled a laugh. He didn't say anything, just watched you three like it was a sitcom.
("Nanami, you look a bit taller. Did you grow?") Satoru teased, physically comparing heights with him — which he only ever did when they were kids.
"..." Nanami stared at him. ("Why are you like this?")
Suguru was trying so hard to contain his laughter.
While Nanami and Satoru went back and forth with each other, Suguru grabbed the chance to have his own moment with you.
He talked a bit louder over the singing and drumming, right into your ear, as you watched, captivatedly, at people performing bon odori around the stage.
All you remember was feeling like Suguru’s voice was in your chest, truthfully you can't remember what he was explaining to you about the festival.
Then he went quiet and stared at you softly.
A weird, familiar feeling took residency inside his chest, and he thought;
(Oh... It's been a while since I last fell in love.)
But even if you had paid attention to him in that moment, would you have noticed the tenderness in his eyes?
Suguru got startled out of his love-struck daze by Nanami, who was leaving early.
("Satoru finally got on your nerves, huh?")
("Yes… no, not actually. I've just got sore feet.")
Satoru teased playfully, ("You just want to go home and take a bubble bath and listen to jazz like the old man you are.")
("Satoru, you're annoying. That's absolutely what I'm going to do, though.")
Nanami said goodbye for the night.
The sky blackened and the crowd thickened with more people, so Satoru took your hand in his and kept you close.
After an hour, the three of you headed out of the festival and went in search of a quieter place. Suguru observed you and Satoru holding hands. He stared and stared, then forced himself to snap out of it.
Satoru was quietly thinking, then said dramatically;
(“He was totally flirting with her!”)
And to this Suguru burst out laughing so hard, like all the laughter he held back earlier came out. A man with a laugh like that was definitely popular with boys and girls in high school, you’re certain.
(“How do you know?”)
(“… it sounded like it!”)
(“I can’t believe you’re such a jealous guy.”) Suguru shook his head, bearing a big smile, (“You even got jealous at me for flirting with her.”)
Satoru shrugged guiltlessly. 「僕は僕!」
“What is going on?” you asked laughingly.
Suguru could hardly translate or speak as he had a laughing fit on the street.
*****
When you walked out of an alleyway into a busier street and saw the neon glow of lights of a 7-Eleven, and a cyclist going by, and inhaled the night air, and heard all the city noises, and felt all the city feelings, this feeling whirled around you.
"Life feels different here." you commented, looking around you.
"... oh really?" Suguru hummed sarcastically.
You nudged his arm. "Don't be sarcastic. You know what I mean, don't you?"
"Yeah, of course. That feeling... like a spark...?" he teased, just to see the look in your eyes.
He spoke to Satoru, and Satoru said something and Suguru chuckled and translated for you, " 'You'll miss that feeling when you leave for home.' "
"... I'll miss you two more."
Hearing sentence made his heart fluttery. When Suguru translated it, it just didn't feel the same as hearing it in your voice. It made him wonder just how much he was missing out on by not knowing your language. What feelings were being lost in translation?
*****
The three of you headed out further, getting a bit lost in the city for fun.
The hot night called for ice cream, so Satoru and Suguru rock-paper-scissor fought for who would go to buy some.
"... 最初ぐう... じゃん拳ぽん... あいこでしょ... あいこでしょ... !"
Satoru pulled a funny face after losing that made you and Suguru laugh. He went on his way to the convenience store, navigating through a detour, stopping to pet a cat on his way back, and meanwhile... you and Suguru were left alone together, with that spark clearly fizzing between your chests.
*****
At the park, the two of you lazed in the grass, side by side, while waiting for Satoru to return from the convenience store with ice creams.
Eyes directed up at the sky, propped on his elbows, hair messy after a long evening. Suguru momentarily closed his eyes in bliss at the soft breeze fanning by.
Next to you, Suguru stretched out his long legs and stared deeply at the moon. It was blazing. The longer he stared at it in silence the more this feeling struck him.
He took a sideways glance at you, and you were obliviously enjoying the cool night breeze.
(Does she have a clue about how I feel right now?) Suguru thought softly.
"月が綺麗ですね..." he murmured romantically.
"Hm? What does that mean...?"
He turned his head to look at you, totally smitten.
"... the moon is beautiful, isn't it?"
"Oh. Yeah, it is." you agreed. "I haven't seen a moon so bright in a while."
Suguru chuckled dreamily.
(She's a clueless angel.)
No thoughts passed through either of your heads as you leaned into each other.
His features were too fuzzy to make out in this lighting, but you saw a hint of a tender expression on his face.
He inhaled deeply and got so high on the sweet, humid night air that he leaned into a kiss without thinking his action through — but it's alright, he only grazed his still lips over yours. He only hovered. It was just a sweet, shared breath if anything. Just a ticklishly light touch of lips grazing lips.
No thoughts. Just that spark in the air and heartbeats thumping quickly in your fingertips.
Then immediate realization hit him. He pulled away and apologized like he was shocked at himself.
"I'm so sorry." Suguru stressed, "I didn't mean to — I —I wasn't thinking."
"It's okay, don't apologize." you replied softly, unable to say more.
(What does she mean, "Don't apologize"? What does she mean…?)
Suguru began to ramble, and you watched his lips move as he spoke each syllable. His lips felt tingly, wanting— desperately — for a kiss.
He wanted to kiss you, but he couldn't.
"It's just — I haven't — you know, it's been years since... um, anyways. I don't even know what I'm saying anymore." He became out of breath, talking too fast.
Suguru drew in a breath like he was going to say something more, but then stopped speaking altogether because Satoru returned — with a plastic bag of convenience store ice creams swishing at his side.
“Hey hey.” he greeted the two of you, and sat down on the grass.
Satoru didn't sit between you and Suguru, rather, he sat in front of both of you, stretching his legs out onto the soft grass like a cat.
「顔赤いよ・・・」 Satoru wiggled his brows at Suguru.
You watched Suguru as he patted his hands against his hot cheeks to cool them.
Satoru giggled naughtily.
You looked between them and watched them have a small exchange, never learning what they said to each other in that moment. But you could gather Suguru's embarrassment and Satoru's teasing and mild jealousy.
Suguru grumbled to himself on the way home.
(We could have shared a movie kiss...)
*****
You fell asleep before Satoru — almost as soon as your head hit the pillow. He looked down at you for a moment, his gaze catching onto your parted lips, his ears picking up on your soft breathing.
(I hope you're dreaming of me.) he thought hopefully.
He stared for a bit, daydreaming.
The longer he stared, the more his face reddened and his heartbeat quickened. Eventually he crawled into bed next to you, keeping a distance but wishing so badly that he could cuddle you.
He was thinking about how unfair it was to be himself; to have to contain himself when he was such a romantic and emotional man, and not just that; a man in need of touching, kissing, cuddling. He felt a need for all of that more that night than at any other point in his life.
Satoru timidly inched closer and lifted his face to plant a kiss on your cheek. Just a tiny kiss. His lips hovered over you cheek, then over your lips. But he held back.
He pulled away slowly and smiled shyly to himself.
That satisfied his heart enough, he could calm down and sleep.
But in the other room, Suguru moved around sleeplessly in his bed like a hopeless insomniac.
*****
Curled into his pillow, cheeks warm, fist to lip and knees hugged, Suguru was daydreaming of how that moment could have gone differently if he had just kissed you.
And his daydream played out like a film, one full of scripted kisses, shot from every angle, replayed over and over to satisfy his little heart — the poor thing was beating in panic at his growing feelings.
Yes, he knew he liked you, but not like that. Not until now. Now that feeling was nearly in full throttle.
*****
Suguru's daydream of kissing you went on until it got light outside.
He thought, thought, thought. But a daydream wasn't enough to satisfy his need to kiss you. With a suppressed sigh, he rolled onto his side, hugged his ribs, and blinked his stinging eyes at the room as it lit up a dawn blue.
The room became lighter and lighter.
He leaned up in bed, blinked, then reached for his phone and opened yours and his chat. And he scrolled up into the texts that gave him butterflies. He stared at the blinking cursor, then typed out;
I wanted to kiss you.
Then he stared at your profile picture, and promptly erased what he had typed.
Instead, he wrote it in his notes app, as if it was his most guilty secret.
Then he cuddled back into his fortress of pillows, begged his mind for a dream of you, and fell asleep at 7 AM, sleeping a weak 3 hours before waking up again.
*****
You and Suguru were awake earlier than Satoru, who was still softly sleeping. The roar of early morning traffic reached the 7th floor, and the sunrise teased its appearance through the buildings.
Suguru watered the balcony plants in his flip flops.
And he did it lazily, in his baggy pants, with unbrushed hair. It was quite a sight to see, so you stared. He could feel your eyes on him and his heartbeat quickened.
He watered each plant with a cup of water, complaining that he keeps forgetting to buy a watering can for his ‘lil guys’.
Names were assigned to each plant, written on paper on toothpicks.
“… you named a plant… Dave?” you questioned.
“… what? It’s funny.”
He watered ‘Dave’ and looked closer, nearly nosing into the plant.
"Oh my god... he’s wilting." he genuinely panicked. "I swear I'm doing everything I can to keep him alive, it's like he just wants to die… keep it together, Dave."
You laughed and hovered over the plants with him. Suguru was frowning at his other plants as they looked unhappier than usual.
"Suguru, you're such a plant dad." you said.
His frown lifted, he looked at you and then his sweet smile lines showed up on his cheeks.
"Thanks."
When he made eye contact, and that something sparked in the air between you two. It sparked bigger than it ever had before.
"You look tired..."
I can't believe she notices that. How sweet.
He shrugged in response.
"I was thinking about you..." he trailed off.
You widened your eyes and went silent.
"— your flight." he lied and you knew it.
"... yeah, it's gonna be a long flight home." you swallowed hard, looking so deeply into his eyes that you got dizzy.
"You know what's weird? Right now, in this moment, it feels like you'll never leave." he said softly.
The following silence heightened the tension between you and him. He felt the urge to kiss you again. He felt it bad. His self-restraint was slipping, he couldn't discipline himself.
(A kiss is just a kiss, right?)
When you licked your lips, that’s when Suguru started to lean his face in. As his gaze flitted between your lips and your eyes, his heart panged.
He hesitated, you hesitated, he stuttered, you stuttered. He kissed you like a nervous mouse.
You were shocked even though you knew it was coming.
Even if the kiss lasted just a split second, that was long enough to catch a glimpse of heaven.
Suguru pulled back and looked at you unsurely.
"えーと" his lips twitched. "I — I'm — I — uh." he forgot how to speak completely, so stunned that his mother tongue and English tongue got tangled together.
You stared into his eyes and that's what got him, he went in for another kiss, this time harder – lips smacking together like you just needed each other. And as he exhaled against your face, you could feel all his passion.
His heart fluttered when you kissed him back with almost the same intensity. The heat and softness of someone else's lips was exactly what he needed at this time in his life, just to kiss someone who he really liked.
Gasping into the kiss, Suguru held onto your cheeks like you were his baby. When he ran out of breath, he pulled away and breathed a little heavier.
"I'm so sorry, I — " he said breathlessly.
" — no, it's o—o-okay." you stammered, feeling a bit out of it.
Both of you were digesting the moment when suddenly a bleary-eyed, sleepy Satoru came out onto the balcony, holding Mint against his chest. He was squinting and blinking at the morning sun.
Suguru immediately switched to nonchalance and acting as if nothing just happened. But his shoulders were stiff.
("Mint looks especially evil this morning.") his voice quivered a little.
("... you mean fluffy?") Satoru replied, petting Mint between her fuzzy ears.
("No, evil.") Suguru joked, ("She's a devil in dis—guise.") he choked on his words.
Satoru looked at him strangely and thought;
(Huh, Suguru doesn't usually choke on his words.)
Satoru stared at Suguru, looked at you, then looked back and forth between you and Suguru.
The air was thick.
"What?"
"What...?"
("What happened?") Satoru asked.
Satoru's sixth sense was insane. Like it was some scene in a comedy movie, he forwardly asked;
("Why do I feel like I interrupted something?") he said.
Suguru raised his brows and made a funny guilty face. You looked between them with wide eyes.
"I'm gonna go make some coffee..." you said, and scrambled to your feet like you were desperate to escape this awkward tension.
"... I'm gonna tell him." Suguru said.
"You're bluffing..."
"Nah, I'm an honest guy."
You groaned funnily, "Then I'm gonna go hide behind the coffee pot..."
Satoru looked confused. Once you headed inside, it was just him and Suguru there on the balcony.
The traffic was roaring louder by now. For a while it was the only sound between them, besides your distant clanking in the kitchen.
A long silence dragged out and then Suguru's words abruptly popped into existence.
"(YN)にキスした・・・"
"は?!"
Suguru made a guilty grimace and scratched the back of his head.
("What do you mean you kissed her? When was this?") Satoru's voice got higher.
("Uh, like right now.")
They went back and forth for a while. You heard them and had no idea what was being said.
("Thief.") Satoru said, calming down after a while.
("How am I a thief?") Suguru got defensive.
("You stole her kiss from me!") Satoru pouted childishly.
("... I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself.") Suguru lowered his head, ("Are you mad at me...?") he asked worriedly.
("... No, I'm not mad at you... well, a little bit.") Satoru mumbled, ("I'm more jealous than mad.")
(“So…”) Suguru looked at his best friend wearily. How could he not be furious? (“This is fine with you?”)
(“You can get away with it. If it were Nanami, I’d be throwing hands.”) he joked.
Suguru still felt like he was a puppy that did something wrong, but Satoru just didn’t seem to be taking it as seriously.
("... I've got a plan, okay.") Satoru said suddenly, ignoring Mint's silent begging for cuddles. ("I'm gonna kiss her at the airport, right before she leaves — ")
Suguru laughed, ("Are you procrastinating — ?")
Satoru cut him off and said 「やる よ!!!」 with such intensity and conviction that it made Suguru burst out laughing.
Hearing Suguru's laughter from the kitchen reassured you that everything went over fine.
*****
He stood in front of you.
(できる よ・・・) I can do it...
Satoru swallowed hard. Discretely wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. Nibbled his lip. Tried to act natural in the airport, looking to Suguru for inspiration on being nonchalant.
You were testing the clock by waiting until the very last minute to get onboard.
Just like you were procrastinating to board your flight, Satoru was procrastinating to kiss you. The three of you exchanged a look.
"Oh.” Suguru realized, “Go ahead. I’m not looking. I'm a plant." Suguru joked, covering his eyes.
He gave you and Satoru space, he thought it was fair. If he had his moment with you on the balcony, then Satoru deserved to have a moment with you. Now he understood how all-consuming the desire to kiss someone was.
(It has to be now, when else? I don't know when she'll be back for her next visit, I could be waiting a whole year. The universe knows how impatient I am. I've got to have her lips right now.) Satoru thought anxiously.
His body stuttered.
You were thinking to yourself, is this the wrong moment to kiss him? Is there ever a right moment anyways?
"Satoru." you said in a tone of goodbye, and outstretched your arms to him.
He leaned down into your embrace like the awkwardly tall man he was.
You clung to each other's bodies for a while. Such a clingy hug already spoke volumes. But still, Satoru just wanted to go that bit further — to spell his love on your lips.
He wanted you to board that plane knowing what his love tasted like, to sit in your seat with lips freshly tingling.
Yes, he knew nothing in life ever played out like in movies or daydreams, so he was hoping just once it would.
Last-minute doubt filled him and he felt his mood drop.
(… maybe I shouldn’t.)
Just as he pulled out of the hug, you reached up, cupped his cheeks with conviction, and gave him the biggest kiss that he'd ever received in his life right smack there on his lips.
"...?" His knees buckled, and redness grew on his cheeks very quickly.
He blanked so hard, but only for a second or two, because he dreamily tilted his head off to the side and deepened the kiss.
(yeah, 恋している。)
You pulled back. He stammered, stuttered, totally stumbled. He was all over the place now. He couldn't form a thought now.
Even if someone would have told him that he was on planet earth, he wouldn't have believed them, because your kiss definitely sent him to heaven.
"は、はずかしいな・・・embarrassed, I'm embarrassed." He chuckled nervously.
Suguru watched as you two broke down into giggles, then he came over to you two again.
"You know, that was very cute and all," he said, spooking the life out of Satoru who was just totally in his feelings. "But even the last-minute procrastinators have boarded the flight by now."
"Oh my god!" you panicked, "Um, yeah! Okay, okay I'm gonna go... I love you two. I'll come back soon, I promise. I promise."
Hugging goodbye for the last time hurt, and seeing you get teary-eyed made it hard for them not to cry too.
You went through the gates.
Satoru felt like you tore a piece of him and took it with you, and his whole body wanted to chase after you.
You waved and gave heart hands to them as much as you could until you disappeared out of sight.
Boarding the plane felt like a dream. After stowing away your bag in the overhead cabinet, you took your seat and stared blankly, lips feeling tingly and alive with Satoru’s lingering feelings on them.
*****
It was all over too quickly. Satoru licked his lips.
Idling to the window to watch your plane take off, both of them felt like they were on the verge of crying, Satoru a little more than Suguru.
(まだ いかないで。) Satoru frowned.
*****
At home, Satoru walked into his room and when he inhaled your lingering scent, god, he burst into tears so loudly that Mint got startled. Suguru came to comfortingly rub his back as he wept like a dog.
"悟、 泣かないで。"
He didn't cry as hard ever again as he did that day, and he never even told you.
*****
It's hard to imagine that summer could have ever ended, but it faded away like a sweet taste fading on his tongue.
Satoru woke up the morning without you, and it took him a few seconds to realize that — he felt his fingers over the pillow and slowly opened his eyes.
(ああ、もう会いたい。)
Puffy eyes, dry lips, he reached for his phone.
You hadn't replied yet — still on your flight home, high up in the air. Probably staring out the window. Hopefully thinking of him.
He checked your live flight status, and laid on the pillow as he watched it, forearm concealing his frown, and he just stayed like that for half an hour. Watching that tiny plane move on the screen, over so many countries.
He zoomed out, and felt stricken, as if he just realized how far you actually were from him. And you weren't even home yet, home was still hours away.
"Wake up, princess." Suguru knocked on Satoru's door, then barged in after Satoru let out an I’m awake noise. "I could sense your damp mood through the door." He said.
Satoru groaned, "She's still in the sky..."
Suguru dove into Satoru's unmade bed. "Don't frown so much, you'll get ugly frown wrinkles when you're old."
"Mhm."
They were watching your live flight for a few minutes in silence.
"Let’s look through photos."
So, they both laid there, looking through photos, mumbling amongst themselves about little things and missing you like they've never missed someone before.
Then Satoru let out a long breath, rolled onto his back, and hummed happily to himself.
"I kissed her. I actually kissed her.” He said, thinking of you.
"... oh really? That's crazy. Me too." Suguru teased sarcastically.
"Shut up, you."
Suguru just teased further, "The only way you'll get me to shut up is if you book her a flight back to Tokyo and let her use her lips to silence me."
"She'll kiss me before she kisses you next time she visits." Satoru said confidently.
"... bet?"
"Okay, bet!" Satoru flared up, "I bet all my savings, because I know she loves me more."
"Then say goodbye to your savings."
They go back and forth, getting competitive.
"... I'll kiss her harder." Suguru said.
"No, I'll kiss her harder." Satoru said.
"I'll kiss her dumb." Suguru said.
"I'll kiss her dumber!" Satoru said.
Mint fluffed her tail and stared at her noisy, bickering owners. Then she leaped off and went on her way to the washing machine.
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𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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♡ 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠
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This is fictional work.
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