#i'm genuinely so bad at words whenever it comes to expressing my feelings or just feelings in general augh.. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

appocalipse · 1 year ago

Text

that guy ⊹ steve harrington

summary: After he's been to yet another failed date with yet another random pretty girl, Steve Harrington, your best friend, stops by at the diner your family owns for a late-night chat, same as he'd done a thousand times before. Steve is totally unaware of how much he's hurting you with his endless parade of dates, because after all — the two of you are only friends and nothing more, right? It's not like you have any secret feelings for him… | 2.6k words

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

The moment Steve steps through the glass doors of the diner, you wonder, for about the millionth time that month alone, what is it that you've done so wrong to deserve this kind of punishment.

It's Friday night, and on Friday nights, Steve Harrington goes on dates. It's just like clockwork, really: he meets a pretty girl, thinks she's the one, takes her out on a date, realizes quickly enough that she isn't quite what he was looking for, then comes here after having dropped her back home to sulk with you, in the diner that your family runs, still clad in the outfit he'd chosen especially for his failed date.

To be honest, he never looks sad, per se — more like disappointed. Frustrated, maybe.

You watch as he weaves around tables occupied by laughing friends, past booths filled with couples sharing desserts, then slides into a seat in front of you at the bar. Steve sits down with an exhausted sigh, ruffling up his hair before shooting you a tired smile.

"Hi."

You don't look up from where you're polishing the counter. "Bad date again?"

"Not even close. She talked about horses non-stop."

A quiet laugh slips past your lips despite yourself, and finally, you tear your gaze off the dark wooden surface of the counter to look up at him; he's got this pleased little smile on his face, the corners of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly in the way they always do whenever he succeeds at making you laugh, even if just a little.

How are you supposed to keep acting like nothing's wrong when he looks at you like that?

You clear your throat awkwardly and make yourself busy stacking clean glasses next to the coffee machine.

"So...not the one, I take it?"

Steve leans forward against the counter and props his head up with his hand, sighing deeply.

"I'm starting to think she won't ever show up," he says quietly, running his other hand through his hair. You chance another glance at him and note how genuinely worried he looks. It breaks your heart almost as much as it annoys you. "What is it that's wrong with me, huh? I just don't get it."

"Nothing is wrong with you."

"You don't need to be nice to me. We've been friends since forever, remember?"

The word 'friends' makes you wince a little bit inside, but you hide the reaction behind a neutral frown. "Do you think there's something wrong with me? Because I haven't found the one yet either, you know."

Steve's expression softens as he looks at you, and once again you feel that horrible twinge in your stomach that you wish would just stop already.

"It's different. I mean—you're not actively trying to find someone." He reaches out to pull one of the half-melted mints out from the glass bowl on the counter and pops it into his mouth with a shrug. "I go out looking for her and she just doesn't come. If she even exists, that is."

"She does."

"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, but I wouldn't hold my breath. God, why am I such an idiot, y'know?" Steve slumps over the counter with a groan, burying his face into his crossed arms. "My love life is a trainwreck."

"At least you have one."

He glances up at you curiously and lifts an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing. Forget it. Do you want some pie?"

You're not about to tell him what you've only admitted to yourself mere months ago — that you're actually hopelessly, madly, stupidly in love with him, and that you have been ever since the two of you were just dumb kids racing around your parents' diner.

What makes it even worse is that you had no idea your feelings went that deep until Steve started going on these dates of his again. Before then, everything was normal — you met up every weekend and binged on candy, watched bad movies on your couch, drove around town together blasting The Clash on his BMW's speakers...it was good.

Until it wasn't.

"Wait, c'mon, you can't just leave me hanging like that," Steve presses. He shifts a little on his stool to better face you, then gestures at you with his hands. "You've clearly got something you wanna say, so, like—hit me. Lay it on me."

"Nothing. I'm just saying...at least you're trying, you know," you say carefully, measuring each word before speaking them. "And at least you're the one doing the rejecting. Could be worse."

Steve's eyebrows rise high up on his forehead and he looks at you incredulously. "Whoa, wait—are you trying to tell me you've been rejected?"

You busy yourself by filling two tall glasses with soda, then slide one to his side of the counter and keep the other for yourself. "Uh...kind of, yeah. But it's fine."

"But who the hell would even do that?" he blurts out. There's anger in his voice all of a sudden, a defensive fire in his eyes that makes you feel as if someone has punched you in the gut. "To you? You're like, the nicest person on the planet, and super pretty to boot. That's just—that's crazy!"

Your heart gives a violent little jump in your chest. He thinks you're pretty. Steve Harrington thinks you're pretty.

Pretty as a friend, you correct yourself immediately, and sigh as you sip your drink. Of course, it's nothing more than that — just meaningless words spoken in a moment of unthinking kindness.

"Seriously, who?" he presses on. "Give me a name. I'll fight him."

"You mean like you fought Jonathan Byers?" you smile behind your glass, looking at him from over its rim.

Steve looks embarrassed at the memory and drops his gaze for a second or two before meeting your eyes again with a playful little smile of his own. "Different situation, okay, but that's not the point. So? Who's the guy?"

"You...don't know him," you hedge.

"It's Hawkins. I know the stray cats here by name."

"Fine, well, even if you did know him, it doesn't matter. He didn't reject me, exactly...not really."

Steve frowns a little. "Okay, you're gonna have to start making sense now. This is hurting my head."

The funny thing is, he actually looks confused, as if he can't possibly fathom the idea of someone rejecting you. It's sweet, really — way too sweet for your liking, especially when you know fully well he doesn't see you in the way you'd want him to.

You lower your gaze to avoid his and instead focus on drawing random shapes on the counter with your index finger, where tiny droplets of condensation from your glass have pooled up on the dark wood. "I mean, I never really told him how I felt. Not directly. It just…never happened."

"Oh. Well, then how do you even know if he feels the same way?" he asks you, looking rather doubtful.

You steal another glance at him and almost regret it instantly. His eyes are trained on your face, patient and attentive like you're the only thing worth watching in the world. It makes you feel horribly small and selfish and guilty, because after all, what right do you have to want him when he so clearly wants someone else?

You feel like you could cry. You might, if you don't distract yourself with something fast enough.

"I just know. Do you want some pie? I'll go get you some pie."

Without waiting for a response, you rush off to the kitchen even though there's plenty of pies sitting on the display counter at the bar, and you make a beeline straight for the back exit.

The alley behind the diner is blissfully empty as usual, just a lonely dumpster and a handful of sad-looking shrubs and weeds peeking out from under the concrete.

No, you aren't going to cry.

This is stupid.

You press your back against the rough brick wall of the diner and breathe in deep the warm night air, then exhale slowly as you count to ten in your head.

When the door opens behind you and the diner's familiar chatter and clatter of cutlery spill into the alley, you wince, mentally cursing yourself for being so goddamn weak. You should have known better.

You don't have to look up to know that it's him.

"Are you hiding from me?" Steve's voice comes, quiet and curious and maybe just a little bit hurt, even.

"I got...suddenly nauseous," you explain weakly, still refusing to look up and meet his eyes.

There's a long stretch of silence, and you feel Steve move closer to you until he's leaning against the wall by your side. You finally look up and find him smiling, this gentle, amused little thing that makes your traitorous heart skip a beat.

"You look just fine to me."

You stare up at the sky, head against the wall. "I thought I was gonna throw up."

He's still watching you, you can tell; you're keenly aware of his eyes on you, so much so that your skin prickles at the attention. "No, you didn't."

"No, I didn't," you admit with a sigh, and turn your head to finally look at him. He's got this little half-smile on his lips, the very same one you fell for years ago, and you curse yourself silently for never learning how to let him go. Really let him go.

"Hey. Listen. You don't have to tell me, okay?" Steve says gently, pushing himself off the wall to step closer to you. He brings his hand up to your face and tucks a loose lock of hair behind your ear, letting his fingertips linger on the edge of your jaw for the briefest of moments, just long enough for you to wonder whether he knows what he's doing to you.

You don't dare to move. You're afraid of breaking whatever spell has seemingly come over him.

"I should've never asked. That was selfish."

"Forget it," you say.

He's standing close now, close enough that you have to tilt your chin up to be able to look up at him properly. There's a strange kind of tension in his eyes, something dark and unsure and tentative, and his gaze darts down to your lips just the slightest bit.

You're fairly sure you're just seeing what you want to see, your foolish heart playing tricks on you. But you panic nonetheless, feeling a sudden, irrational fear that if he moves any closer, he'll realize the truth — that you're a liar and a coward, that you've been harboring these feelings of yours for him for years.

"I should—I should go. Back inside," you mutter, pointing vaguely at the door with your thumb. "In there."

"Sure, yeah. Okay. In there," he echoes, not making a single move to leave. "Not out here."

"Yup. Exactly. In there."

"So you said."

"Yep."

The wall of the diner is digging into your spine uncomfortably, and your mouth is dry, and your knees feel weak, and your stomach is doing somersaults, and the longer he stares at you with those eyes of his the more you feel like you're burning from the inside out and—

He's not moving. All he does is look at you, really look at you, as if it's the first time he's really looked, as if he's seeing something that wasn't there before.

"Okay, so—"

You try to push past him towards the door, but Steve grabs your arm, making you stop dead in your tracks. He lets go as soon as you look up at him, lifting his hand in front of him in an apologetic gesture.

"Sorry. I'm sorry," he says. He swallows hard and rubs his palm on the front of his jeans, a nervous little habit you think he's always had. He runs his hand through his hair, mussing up the carefully gelled strands, and it's probably the first time you've ever seen him look so flustered.

He laughs nervously and gestures at the ground with his hands as he speaks. "Look, this is just—this is just crazy, okay, but I think I, uh, maybe sort of realized something."

You blink at him, not quite certain you're hearing him correctly.

"Realized what?" you ask, the words barely more than a whisper.

Steve clears his throat and nods at you, seemingly pleased that you've finally spoken. "Yeah, well, this is stupid, but you know how you're always telling me to listen to my gut?"

"You're not making a whole lot of sense right now, Steve."

"Just bear with me for a sec, okay? This is like, totally new to me." He holds his palms up, and you notice his hands are shaking a little. "I just need a minute, alright?"

He breathes in deep and exhales slowly, then shoots you an apologetic look.

"Sorry, this is just...really weird," he confesses. "Weirdly real."

"You're freaking me out," you tell him, but Steve only smiles at you.

"Maybe I should just show you. Because, I mean, what if I'm wrong? That'd be terrible, obviously."

"Steve."

"Yeah, I know, but hear me out, okay?" he says quickly, and takes another step closer. You stand your ground this time, if only because you don't trust yourself to actually move without your legs giving out. "So, look. Here's the thing. You're, like—you're one of the most important people in my life. You've been there for me when nobody else was, and I...you mean a lot to me."

"Steve—"

"Shut up, you're ruining the moment."

He takes another step forward until he's crowding you against the wall, hand coming to rest next to your head on the brick. He's close, so close that you can smell the scent of his cologne and shampoo and laundry detergent, and if you were to lean in even the slightest bit, your faces would bump.

Steve is a little out of breath, his lips parted ever so slightly. And he's still looking at you with that strange, searching expression of his.

"Is this okay?" he whispers.

"I don't��what?"

Your voice catches in your throat. There's no room for doubt in his eyes now, not even the tiniest, slightest sliver of uncertainty left.

"This," Steve murmurs.

He tilts his head to the side a little and leans in until you're sure your noses are touching, and you feel your eyes slip closed in anticipation.

"Is this okay?" he repeats in a whisper. "Please tell me I'm not crazy."

"I think I am."

His lips brush yours. It feels like an accident, doesn't last long enough to be anything but a dream. You can still taste the faint, sweet trace of sugar and mint on your tongue when he pulls away, though.

"Just to be clear," Steve whispers, his fingers brushing lightly over the skin of your neck, tracing invisible lines that make you shiver, "am I the guy from earlier? The one you like?"

You don't have it in you to deny it anymore.

"Yes. It's you."

A wide grin breaks out across his face, and suddenly he's everywhere; he cups your face in his hands, pressing eager, fervent kisses along the line of your jaw, trailing hot and open-mouthed down the side of your neck.

You giggle helplessly, grabbing Steve by his collar to pull him away from you and up to your eye level. He's breathing just as heavily as you are, his hair messy and his eyes bright.

"How do you do this to me, huh?" he pants, kissing your forehead, the tip of your nose, the corner of your mouth. "You just—you just completely knock me out."

A pleasant little thrill rushes up your spine at that.

"Oh yeah?"

"Completely."

You kiss him this time.

2K notes · View notes

pullupinarari · 3 months ago

Text

The Secret of Us [LH]

III. Fuck, it was chemical

summary: a 5 chapter miniseries in which Lewis chooses you to coordinate one of his new projects, but the instant spark flicking between the two of you makes the professional lines grow a little blurry. do the both of you feel the same?

author’s note: a 20 day break in between chapters 2 and 3 because I have been struggling with some kind of writer's block. this is NOT proofread, there's probably typos and nonsense words, and it's genuinely bad. I'm sorry.

warnings: this has a bit of a smutty part where some kind of masturbation tries to take place

• masterlist

wc: 11 109 - English is not my first language! Feedback is always appreciated

As weeks passed by, the romantic encounters between you and Lewis have become more recurrent. Whenever the driver was free, every weekend in his agenda was yours, flying back and forth if needed so he wouldn’t skip any of your Wednesday's meetings.

The shared scones, the small flowers he would pick up on the way to the bakery every Sunday morning, the warm cuddles that made it seem like your bodies would merge into just one - your fingers intertwined, your limbs connected as you two spooned on the couch, with Lewis’ lips landing careful, sweet kisses on your cheek and the crook of your neck. Every single detail helped soften your heart a little more, growing more comfortable beside the man, getting more and more used to spending your free time with him.

And every single week, your meetings would have a different meaning to them. In public, you would stick to formal handshakes, keeping your bodies and mouths to yourselves, remaining professional for everyone to see. The discreet yet intense glances that you would share, would still be there - a way to speak to each other without using words, keeping all focus in the other’s eyes, smirks, the small details in each facial expression that you would share.

But, inside the four walls of your office, the scenario was completely different. Lewis would immediately wrap his arms around your shape, his face hiding in the crook of your neck as his lips would attach to your skin, taking in your scent that he misses so much when you’re away, focusing on embracing your figure as close as he possibly can.

While discussing project-related topics, trying to pick the right design for each piece, the man couldn’t hold himself from paying more attention to your beauty, to your features, to how soft your skin feels against his own - hearing your words, but daydreaming about how lucky he is, feeling grateful for having you, for being allowed to touch you, to discover you, to share his days with you.

If someone would have the chance to see you together, they would immediately think of the two of you as a couple in love, so in love that everyone around you could feel the intense passion crashing between your figures.

All the cute, romantic dates that would take place in each other’s homes, candlelit dinners, slow mornings wrapped in the sheets, loud, fun, comfortable showers, even catching some sun in the backyard - everything was an excuse for you to be together, for your bodies to be as close as if you were just one. And it feels like nothing can tear you two apart - getting to know the other more and more as time passes by, growing familiar with each other, to the point of already knowing each other’s quirks by heart.

Lewis can’t even hold back the enamoured facial expression he gives you every time, hearts mirroring his gaze whenever you come into sight, loving how he can remember each small detail about you and your personality, focusing on everything that makes you even more special in his eyes.

Attracted by how simple of a person you are in your personal life, how you admire the little things in every day: the sun, a good slice of pizza, a laugh with your friends, a shared cuddle session on the sofa with Lewis. In his heart, it gives him an extra hope: you are a simple soul, not really caring about all the luxury that he can provide you. So, if you love a good cup of coffee and your toast the simple way, maybe you can love him for who he is, as well.

He can’t help but dream about a life beside you, of sharing his apartment with you full-time, giving you half of his closet so your clothes would take up all the space you’d like, waiting for you to come home from work while the man cooks dinner for the two of you. Lewis can’t quite figure out why yet, but you manage to bring out his most domestic side, the side of him that wants to settle down with the right one, have babies, dedicate his entire time to his family, always with the right one - you.

It’s a nice feeling that erupts in your chest every time you see him, actually. It’s warm, comfortable, almost protective, allowing you to feel special in the man’s eyes, especially once you are wrapped in his arms, your head gently lying in his chest, making you feel safe… almost even too much.

The truth is: you are not emotionally available to merge yourself in a romantic relationship - at least not in the way that Lewis dreams about. You don’t dream of having kids, of getting married, of finding the love of your life.

That would have been a thought of the old you, you are sure of it. The old Y/N, the girl who dreamed of a ‘forever’ type of love, of finding her prince charming, believing that you would be happy by his side for the rest of your life. But that’s not true, that’s not real. Reality is: love seems to not exist to you.

After getting hurt so many times, being deceived by the men you gave a chance to (and more than one, most of the time), your heart got tired of getting broken. Maybe you are the problem. Or maybe you are just unlucky. Maybe you just tend to pick the worst men known to mankind to date. Maybe you put way too high expectations into people who can’t fulfill the scenarios in your head - probably because they always seem way too good to be true.

So after all this, you slowly come to the realization that you are done with it: with the heartbreaks, with the tears flooding your eyes every time you tried to give your all to someone who gave you nothing back. You promised yourself you wouldn’t do love anymore, not even wasting your time thinking about it.

And Lewis is a nice guy, you know he is. He brings you flowers, scones, and your cup of coffee. He cuddles you close, kisses your skin tenderly, wraps his arms around your figure safely, making you feel protected and cared for. And maybe that’s where the danger lies.

Feeling your heart softening up to him is definitely not a good sensation, not for you at least. Lewis absolutely loves it when you stay in bed with him a little longer, finding it hard to leave your place in his chest, your limbs intertwined as you warm each other in between the sheets.

However, as much as your body wants to give in, to kiss him harder, to hug him tighter, the voice in the back of your head seems to never stop reminding you of how dangerous it is to give into this situation even more. You have already given too much of yourself, if you stop and look back at all the dates, all the romantic moments that should have never existed.

You two were supposed to just have some fun together, and that’s it. In your head, the plan was to go out with him on a first date, meet him in bed, and leave right after. But the man switched everything for you. Changed your ideas, the way everything was supposed to go.

Now, he is picking you up at work on your lunch break - parking his car a little further from your company’s entrance, so your boss won’t see him - taking you back to his place, where he has cooked a nice meal to share with you, alongside some warm kisses, tender touches, and a genuine smile playing on your lips.

Deep down, you know that you need to push Lewis away, one way or another. You see him at work, you see him after your office hours. Your brain is continuously delving into him, all the information surrounding the man and everything you know about him. So, after another morning of leaving his house, you decide to make a decision.

It’s Monday, 10:39 am. Inside the four walls of your office, the sound of your nails tapping on your desk are the only soundtrack stringing your line of thoughts along, mixing with the way your leg keeps bouncing up and down nervously.

Your eyes scan the email that you just finished writing. Professionally immaculate, written in the right tone, using the most appropriate words, the few lines that inform Sir Lewis Hamilton that the project you’ve been working together on is well advanced, and, for that reason, you believe it’s no longer necessary to schedule weekly meetings with the client, informing the man that, from now on, you will only be scheduling one monthly meeting with him. Adding your boss to the recipients, you take a deep breath before clicking ‘send’.

It’s done. The first step to keep him away from you, at least while you’re at work. Maybe that can help your brain get a break from the situation you’ve gotten yourself into.

There’s an unsettling feeling inside of you, you can’t deny it. Maybe it’s because you don’t want to do this, you don’t want to push him away. Deep, deep down, you just want to go home to him, so you two can cuddle on the sofa again, or cook dinner together while sharing stories about what happened during your day at work.

Your heart feels heavy. But not in a good way, when it feels heavy with love and care. Instead, it’s heavy with sorrow, pain, harsh memories that you would rather forget, but that life insists on bringing back to you. People say that you need to learn to react differently, so the same situations can stop coming to you, right? So maybe this is it. Maybe, this is you reacting differently, not letting Lewis get too close to you, like all other men did - just so he could end up hurting you, manipulating you.

There’s almost an urge to cry, quickly approaching your body as you think about everything again. It’s like a movie playing in your head, making some hot tears tingle in your eyes as Lewis is the one person who’s splattered on the front of your mind. You can’t stop thinking about how happy he makes you, how fulfilled you feel when you’re by his side, in his arms, sharing hours on end with him.

If your love life hadn’t fucked you up so bad, you know you would be so, so happy by his side. And every time he opens up a bit more to you, sharing his deepest secrets with you, showing how he truly feels when he is with you, it only makes your heart twists in your chest even more, to the point where you can almost feel drops of blood sliding through your insides.

Why does everything have to be so difficult? You know you are the only problem in this situation, but still: guilt occupies all space in between your organs. You’re the one who’s going to break Lewis’ heart now, just like all those other men did to you. Hurt people hurt people - you guess they’re right now.

It’s bitter, it’s harsh and it will hurt, but you know it’s for the best. And the driver needs to understand that you’re not the one for him. You could never be. But it seems like he’s not even thinking about any of that, as your phone starts ringing nonstop with messages and calls from him.

His name appears on your phone screen one time after the other, and it grows consistent every time you decline his calls. “I’m at work, can’t talk right now” - you text him, only to be completely ignored by him, noticing how the man doesn’t stop calling you. He is persistent, and you know he won’t stop until you pick up, even if it will take for him to dial your number countless times for hours.

Still, you stand your ground. Not replying to his endless texts, not picking up his never ending calls, putting your phone on do not disturb mode, so you won’t get bombed with his insistence anymore.

And it seems to work for a couple hours, at least until you’re almost done with your work for the morning, finishing some essays before your lunch break.

You managed to fight the urge to touch your phone, to open and check every Lewis’ attempt to reach you, diving in the silence surrounding the four walls of your office, matching the emptiness in your mind as your heart seems to scream on your chest - only to be muffled by the sound of you typing on your computer, trying to focus on what really matters: your job.

That is, until you’re getting ready to leave your workplace, heading for lunch, just before your secretary is knocking on your door, rushing to let you know that there’s someone that is insisting to talk to you - even after you specifically said you don’t want to meet anyone today.

- Who is it, Lydia? - you ask the woman in front of you, who’s visibly confused with what to do in that situation.

There’s an annoyed tone leaving your lips that you can’t quite hold back, feeling overwhelmed by the immensity of different feelings inside of you, that definitely makes you not want to see anyone or talk to anyone right now.

- It’s me - a voice erupts through the door, seeing his figure appearing behind your assistant. - This is an emergency and I need to talk to you right now, Miss Y/N.

There he is: Lewis, standing straight as his eyes pierce yours with a ravishing intensity, almost stealing all the oxygen from your lungs. The closed facial expression on his features lets you know that he is not happy with what you did, and the thought of having to talk to him about it now, makes you bite your tongue.

You gulp, using all your strength to hold back a sigh that wants to leave your body so desperately. Nodding at Lydia, the woman leaves your office, closing the door behind her - leaving you and Lewis alone.

- I’m not in the mood to talk, and I was just about to leave for lunch, so please, get straight to the point - you tell him, sipping on your water bottle as you turn your back to him. Your tone is cold, uninterested, not really feeling like having this conversation with the man in front of you now. - Oh, I’ll be fast. Why the fuck did you just cancel all of our weekly meetings? - his words come out harsh, spitting all the annoyance pooling in his own figure, as well.

There’s the question that you really don’t want to reply to, the conversation you wanted to avoid, the one you wish you wouldn’t need to have. You keep your back turned to him, as your eyes inspect the view of the city from your office. A deep sigh leaves your form before you speak.

- As I said in my email, the project is right on track. I don’t see a reason for us to continuously meet every week, when most problems are solved, and there’s not much more that needs to be discussed in the current state of the investment. - your tone is flat, not showing much emotion as you try to remain professional, slowly turning to look him in the eyes again, standing your ground as if you were informing him of the most natural thing in this world.

And maybe you are. Maybe everything makes sense. Maybe there’s no need for you two to have meetings all the time, if the project doesn’t require it anymore. However, as much as it might be true, Lewis doesn’t want to accept it. He can’t, in his mind, fathom the idea of not having an entire morning just to yourselves inside of your office, where you would exist for his eyes only - in the exact same way that he feels like he has been existing just for you, as well.

He sees you almost every night when he is in town, he has you entirely to himself on the weekend’s when he is on break from racing. But still, he can’t help but feel anxious for Wednesday to arrive every week.

Every Wednesday morning, he wakes up with a tingling feeling in his chest, sensing some nervousness surrounding him as the man anticipates your meeting. He chooses an immaculate outfit - a professional one, to match yours, as he tries to guess what color you’ll be wearing that day, wanting to look good for you, wishing you can desire him just by looking at him, as soon as he walks through the door of your workplace.

Even if you are really just talking about business and not doing anything forbidden, he loves the adrenaline of taking over your office, moving around as he pleases as he reaches for the opposite side of your desk, only to disturb your focused and professional mindset - by stealing kisses from your lips, wrapping his arms around your waist when you leave your seat at the chair, adorning the skin of your neck with open mouth kisses, loving the way you have to suppress a moan every time he does it, seeing you snaking away from his arms for your own sake, since your boss is in the room next door.

But even if he doesn’t do anything, he wants to look at your gorgeous face, pray to every small crevice of your skin, begging god to allow your soft hand to touch his as the most intelligent words leave your mouth - blowing Lewis’ mind, as he can’t help but feel so lucky that he has the opportunity to unveil your brain in such an intimate, personal way, seeing how you shine in your field, the way you deserve, like the star that you are. Above it all, he wants your presence. He wants to feel comfortable and warm just by hearing your voice, your laughs, seeing your smile. It has become his weekly boost of serotonin, and he doesn’t want to give up on that. He knows you have a lot of projects to work on, and a lot of meetings to attend, but you can give them any other day. Wednesday belongs to him.

Walking over to meet your silhouette, the man seems to soften up as he feels your gaze up close. His face is mere inches away from yours, and his fingers are gently reaching for your hand, caressing your skin softly as he tries to ground himself from all the anger that was running in his veins just some minutes ago. He knows you’re right; but he doesn’t want to lose you, the time he has with you. He feeds himself off every second that his eyes land on you, so he tries to convince you to go back on your decision.

- Don’t do this, baby. Please. You know how little time we have to ourselves, and this weekly meeting makes all the difference. - he pleads.

You know that, that’s why you’re canceling all of them, wanting to cut short all the time you have with him, especially when you spend it in between his arms.

- Don’t call me baby. We are just work partners that have slept together a few times. That’s it and we are nothing more than just that, Sir Hamilton. - his name sounds cold in your lips, especially due to the way you avoid eye contact with him, the closer he gets to you.

His eyebrows are furrowed, looking at you with such intensity as he tries to read you, your closed facial expression, your body language. The way your arms are crossed in front of your body, as if to protect your figure, how you force yourself to look away from him, trying to pretend that he is not even there, right in front of you, his frame meeting yours slowly and carefully.

- You know that’s not true, Y/N. What we have is chemical. And you are so, so much more than just sex to me. - Lewis whispers, his body standing tall in front of you, as his face tries to follow yours, wanting to be as close to you as possible.

His voice is soft, even sultry as he knows that you agree with him. What you two make the other feel is no joke, and it definitely is not just something that you can label as ‘casual’. It’s not a feeling that you can just turn off tomorrow if you feel like never seeing him again.

And you know that. That’s why you don’t reply to his statement, gulping as you feel the tip of his finger gently caressing your thigh, slowly pulling up the fabric of your skirt as his eyes never leave you.

- Say you don’t want me, Y/N. Say it and I’ll leave. I’ll leave this office and your life for good, if that’s what you want. - he is serious as he tries to find answers in you.

You can’t say it, of course you can’t - the last thing you want in this life is for him to leave you… even if you feel that’s the best thing for the both of you. You bite down your tongue again, sensing some tears threatening to spill from your eyes, due to the constant battle that you have to fight against your own feelings.

Lewis knows it. And he can see the shine in your eyes growing as you try your hardest to fight back the tears as well, not allowing yourself to relax, to open up, trying to keep your composure - but you don’t have to do it around him. He accepts you just the way you are, with all your flaws and qualities, he wants you to be comfortable enough to be yourself around him, without any masks.

- Baby girl… - he calls softly, melting as your gaze finally connects with his, your arms finally uncrossing with a small sigh leaving your lips, a silent sign that you are giving in again, not having it in yourself to hold the façade that you are trying to carry around with you.

When you open your arms to welcome him, Lewis immediately attaches his lips to yours, his hands gluing themselves to your waist, holding you close so you can stop running away from him.

The warmth of your mouth on his own feels right - it’s the only sensation that he longs to chase every day, waiting as much as necessary if that means he can get a taste of your cherry lips once again, even if that moment only comes to him late at night.

After all, you’re his constant. Believe it or not, knowing that he has one day of the week where he is guaranteed that he will be allowed to see you, even for just a little bit, it’s enough for him - because, in the middle of the driver’s insane world, your meetings, your kisses, are the only thing that can bring him some sense of stability.

Whenever your bodies meet, you feel alive. You can’t deny that no one else makes you feel the way Lewis does, and maybe you are dumb for trying to turn off this glimpse of light and hope that he has brought you, but, right now, you can’t even think about it - and most importantly, you don’t want to think about it.

At this moment, as the man is pressing your body against the full-height window that allows your body to have a panoramic view of London, his hands confidently travel through your silhouette, making you focus on his touch, on his sweet lips that are magnetized to yours, allowing your brain to escape the cage of intrusive thoughts that seems to desperately try to tear you two apart.

Your tongues are fighting a silent battle, as your hands snake around his neck, pulling the man even closer to you, as if it was possible, as if your figure isn’t already trapped against the window. For a moment, there’s just the two of you, your gentle hands, your heated kisses, your bodies screaming for each other, feeding yourselves off the neediness, the desire erupting through you.

Picking you up, the man sits you on the desk, standing in between your legs while your mouths are still connected. Your hands instinctively reach for his shoulder blades, while his fingers slenderly travel down your figure, leaving his print all over your body as he feels the way you grow more touchy, more needy for him.

It’s like his mouth has power over you, the man being everything you need when your days get hectic, your patience gets low, your body gets tired. Lewis is the one solution to all of your problems, and the world seems to stop, everyone else seems to disappear when his tongue is drawing patterns on the skin of your neck.

Your breathing grows erratic, your hands reaching for the back of his neck now, your fingers gently pulling on his hair as you bring the man even closer to you, desperately wanting him to make you feel more of the fire that he is slowly lighting up on your body, making you forget about everything else.

His lips feel hot against your cold skin, that grows warmer due to his touch - gentle, yet so thoughtful, heavy against your soft skin, touching you in your favourite places. He kisses your sweet spot just below your ear, massages your boobs slowly but seductively, making you moan into his mouth, in the middle of a meeting scene that your tongues portray.

You’re ready for him, like you always are; your body always reacting to his presence, to his aura, to the way you’re both immediately attracted to each other as soon as your eyes land on each other. You don’t want him to leave, you want him to own you, to possess you, right here and now, not giving two fucks about the fact that your door is unlocked, and someone can catch you two - getting a show of the way Lewis’ hand reaches for your core, now that your skirt is all folded up past your hips.

Your boss could come in right now, finding it strange that Lewis wanted to see you in a hurry. He could question himself about the driver’s clear emergency need to talk to you, worried about some serious problem taking over the project you’re working on together. The man could burst inside your office - he owns the entire place, after all. But instead of being met with a brainstorming session, he would just be met with a provocative image in full display for everyone who wanted to see the way Lewis rubs you through your panties, making you gasp for air, as you try your hardest not to moan loudly.

The driver learned every detail about your body quickly over the weeks you’ve been together, knowing you and your reactions like the palm of his hand by now. He touches you where you need him the most, kissing down the way of your unbuttoned blouse, his lips feeling how your heartbeat pumps incredibly fast in your chest, feeling it on your skin as he sucks a small hickey just above your left boob.

Lewis’ fingers rub circles on your pearl through the fabric of your underwear, his digits feeling your wetness soaking the cloth of the lace lingerie that rests under your professional, perfectly neat skirt suit.

His eyes burn your figure as he loses himself in your sounds, on the way you use him to hold yourself up, trying to keep it together - but clearly failing. He can’t help but groan slightly at the sight in front of him, loving to see you losing it, him being the only reason why you ruin your composure at your workplace, forgetting about all your professional duties when you’re near him.

The man’s bulge grows in his pants, dreaming about taking you right here, in your office, merging his body with yours while your silhouette effortlessly lays on the desk, in between the piles of documents, papers, information about all the projects you’re working on, all the meetings you have with other people right inside this room. But never in the same way you meet him.

The air around your figures grows thick, hot, almost making you feel like there’s steam erupting from your bodies, revealing all the desire and passion that you feel for each other, clouding your minds as your kisses and desperate touches speak for the two of you.

Moaning Lewis’ name quietly, your eyes let him know how badly you want him, and he wants to give in to your needs and pleads so badly, finding it hard to keep it even just slightly together as you try to take off his jacket.

However, as the fabric starts sliding down his arms, ready to fall to the floor, a gentle knock on your door startles both of you, making your instincts kick in, as you immediately distance your bodies, composing yourselves.

Quickly fixing your skirt and blouse, you share a compromised look with Lewis while clearing your throat and taking a deep breath, before allowing the person to walk inside.

- I’m sorry to interrupt, but your next appointment is here, Y/N. - Lydia peaks through the door gently, informing you that you don’t have any more time to dedicate to the driver now, and that your activities will have to be postponed until you’re out of work.

You nod at her words, seeing how she closes the door again, giving you a couple more minutes to say goodbye to the man in front of you.

Lewis closes the gap between your bodies again, kissing you hungrily one last time while his soft hands cup your face.

- My place after you leave work? I’ll cook us a nice dinner - he mumbles while his lips are still faithfully glued to yours - pecking them over and over again, giving you only the chance to nod at his invitation.

You try to regain your breath as you see him walking out of your office, leaving your body to feel cold and helpless without his touch, his presence, the influence he has on you.

For the rest of the day, your brain doesn’t seem to be able to concentrate on anything else. Lewis is splattered on the front of your mind, but, unfortunately, it’s not just because of how skilled his fingers are against your skin.

Your mind works as a factory, creating problems that don’t really exist anywhere besides inside your head. And again, you find yourself feeling guilty. For letting him in again, for giving in to his silky touch, to his warm lips. Losing your mind for him, forgetting about how serious things could have gotten if someone caught you two touching in such an inappropriate way, inside of your office.

Sighing, you lean on your chair as you stare at the ceiling. There you are: fighting another battle with yourself, forbidding your true self from feeling, from loving who you love, from being happy. Lewis is the one who makes you feel alive. Your heart knows it, so stop denying it.

However, your brain begs you to be more rational than this. Put your brain cells to use, remember everything that has happened before. All the pain, the cries, the screaming, the hurt, the loneliness that crept on your bones every time you gave love a chance. You can’t do that to yourself again - especially not now, that you finally managed to recover and stand tall again, after all the falling that the damn sensation in your heart put you through.

Even if you try to play numb and careless, your heart isn’t frozen all the time. As the sun goes up, it instinctively searches for a love, for a reason to beat faster, for someone to drain you in adrenaline, a motive to lose your mind and strictness, reminding you how we all should lose our postures sometimes.

While your heart is carefully on the look during the day, your mind becomes awake at night, unlike the rest of people, forbidding your body from getting any sleep or rest whatsoever - replaying the most traumatic events of your life, making you relive the way your figure used to contort while you cried yourself to sleep for weeks on end.

Lewis might just be the one for you, if you think about it with your heart, with all hope and romance that can still inhabit inside of you. But, your brain doesn’t let you believe it, telling you repeatedly that you will be better off without it, letting love go, enjoying just a little fun instead.

Your body hurts, physically feeling the toll that your thoughts take on you. And as your shift comes to an end, you drag your feet across your office, packing up your belongings, so you can finally go home - Lewis’ home, actually.

Inside his apartment, the man tries his hardest to cook another immaculate dish for you, even while already knowing that you don’t need much to be happy - you appreciate his effort and company either way.

Lewis was lying if he said that he didn’t feel his chest heavy with the urge to see you again as soon as possible, praying that time could go by faster, so you could finally be knocking on his door.

Having to leave you in the morning, closing the door behind him as he left your office was always the hardest part of the moments he had with you. The distance, the time when you’re apart, are the things that kill him. And every time he hears the doorbell finally ringing, an eruption of anxiety floods through his veins as the man rushes to see you, to get you inside, so he can hug you, kiss you, nestle you on his chest again as you two love so much.

He wants you, entirely. He doesn’t want just your body, or the steamy moments that you share together. Above all, he wants the kisses, the laughs, the cuddles, the dedication that he is willing to give you. He wants to feel his heart beating faster every time you walk inside his place, always noticing how your smile and your perfume make everything around him seem brighter, happier.

That’s why he is so desperate for you to come home, to him - as his fingers slightly tremble every time he thinks about the set of keys to his place, that rest in his pocket. A set of keys that will hopefully, belong to you very, very soon, so you can open the door to the place that will be your home as well, officially fully unlocking the door to his heart, as well.

You finally get to his house, ringing the bell - igniting another loving fire inside of the man, without even knowing anything about it. Lewis opens his arms for you as soon as he opens the door, welcoming you warmly with his embrace, holding you tight and close to the driver’s shape, landing soft kisses on your head as his fingers gently tangle with your hair.

A deep sigh escapes your body as you wrap your arms around the man’s figure tightly as well, almost holding on to him for dear life as you try your hardest to quiet down the whirlwind of thoughts that has been haunting all day.

Lewis feels some frustration tensing your muscles, his hand rubbing your back up and down, not breaking the hug until you decide to break it. He senses that something is bothering you, but he has no idea about the tears that escaped your eyes while you were in the car, letting out some of the exasperation that crept on you for hours, since the minute that he left your office.

Still, it feels like he can put you together, gluing back all your missing pieces with his touch, being patient enough to hold you for as long as you need. And you appreciate it. You appreciate his time, his effort, the silence that strings you two along, the way he doesn’t rush to ask you a bunch of questions immediately, giving you time and space until you decide to talk, not minding the silent touches at all either.

Once you break the hug, you finally reach to land a small yet soft and caring peck on his lips. Looking into his eyes, you force a small smile to paint your lips and Lewis notices how tired you look - however, in his mind, you just had a tough day at work. He doesn’t even imagine that it was so much more than that - and that he is the reason behind all it. Still, you don’t say much, so the man gets the hint, serving you a plate of food as a way to let you know that he is here, right by your side, and he is going to take care of you for as long as you let him.

Sitting at the table, you mess with the food on your plate for a second, taking a small bite of it before turning your attention to Lewis’ features again. His eyes are soft whenever he looks at you, and a genuine, kind smile is splattered on his face while he looks at you completely enamoured.

Silence is still filling the space around you two, while your thoughts are loud in your mind. You can’t help but think of how amazing he is, how he is so thoughtful to always cook you dinner, caring about you like no other man ever did.

But still. He’s just a man. Just another man that will, eventually, leave you behind once he finds someone better than you. And you notice the love in his eyes; of course you do - he is not subtle at hiding it at all, but maybe he is not even trying to hide it.

The thing that Lewis wants the most is to be truthful about his feelings. He wants you to know every single emotion that you make rush in his blood, every new sensation that you introduced to him with your presence, with your intelligence and spirit.

That’s why his hand instinctively reaches for his pocket, where the set of keys that’s destined to you still rests. And as you finally speak to let him know that his cooking is amazing, he just gives you a smile, getting ready to talk to you.

His heart starts beating faster in his chest, clearing his throat while his leg is nervously bouncing up and down. Man up, Lewis. Come on, do it. Do it for her, for you, for your future with her. – the man thinks to himself.

- I’m glad my cooking can help you a bit after you have a stressful day at work. - Lewis tells you softly.

You raise one eyebrow slightly, instinctively thinking to yourself that it wasn’t just that. It wasn’t just “a stressful day at work”. Work was just fine, and your day would have been better if he hadn’t showed up at your office, demanding to speak to you after your attempt to distance yourself from him - starting an eruption of different thoughts and feelings inside of you. But still, you don’t reply to his statement, and you decide to show him just a smile in reply.

Taking a deep breath, the driver decides to continue his train of thought.

- You know, I really love having you around. I love when you come to my place after you leave work, I love how you have the power in yourself to make every space feel lighter and brighter as soon as you walk in. It’s like magic. - Lewis confesses, feeling all the anxiety running through his body as he tries to read your facial expressions.

There’s not a lot to read, though. You have an expressionless face, your features don’t show much, while contrasting with your brain, that’s working like the devil’s office.

You hear Lewis’ speech loud and clear. And the alarm inside of your mind immediately rings, as if an emergency has surfaced. There’s too many ‘I love’ in his line of thinking, and you know how this will end, if you don’t stop him right now.

So, to avoid hearing an ‘I love you’ coming from him in some minutes, you decide to cut the message the man is trying to pass.

- I enjoy the time we spend by each other’s side as well. At the end of the day, we’re just having fun. I’m glad this isn’t something that we need to take seriously. - you can almost hear Lewis’ heart shattering as soon as the words leave your mouth, seeing his face falling, the smile disappearing.

He gulps. His hand leaves his pocket, trying to forget about the keys, the words that he was about to say, the love confession, the idea of you moving in with him - or at least the scenario of you having the keys so you could erupt through his house every time you wanted to.

You don’t want it, and you just made it very clear, now. No words can describe the way Lewis’ heart has dropped at what you just told him. Sadness immediately washes over him, and you can see it. You notice the shine disappearing from his eyes, his face showing you a dull expression, where all the brightness and happiness have disappeared from.

And looking back at you, he sees how you look at him coldly, almost as if you have no remorse about it. Seeing his heart shattering in front of you, and still, it’s like you can’t feel a thing, in his eyes.

But you can. Oh God, you feel so much - you’re just good at hiding it. Your face is closed, but your heart is open, ripped in the middle, sensing all your feelings, thoughts and pain washing your figure from the inside. You do feel guilty. You didn’t want any of this to happen, but you need to protect yourself, you need to put an end to all the infinite ‘boyfriend moves’ that Lewis does to you everyday.

He is not your boyfriend, even if you would love for him to be. But you’re not the one for him, and you could never be. Unconsciously, you ask yourself why. Why did those words leave your mouth? Why is your brain winning, pushing him away, even when your heart is screaming in your chest, making a lump form in your throat from the agonizing pain as you fight back the tears that your body wants to let out so much. But you have no response to your instincts. Maybe it really was a mindless move, but one that’s right. One that will protect you from getting even more hurt in the future.

You’re both hurt now, though. And the dark, heavy silence that sat at the table in the middle of your bodies lets you know it. It’s like a wall that separates you two, now, making it seem pointless that you’re still here, sitting in front of each other.

And it’s like Lewis can sense that you’re thinking about leaving, as he finally breaks the silence to reply to your statement.

- Yeah, you’re right. No strings attached, just two individuals having fun and enjoying their time together. - he replies, forcing a smile on his features as he goes back to eat his food, as if nothing has happened.

You can’t help but feel startled by his words, your eyebrows furrowing at his attitude. He was basically on the verge of confessing his love to you and now… no strings attached? You try to read him, but you can’t.

Turns out that Lewis isn’t as transparent as you thought he was. On the inside, he is so hurt that this pain could make him disappear in seconds, turning all his feelings and dreams of a life with you into ashes. And he can’t believe that these words just left his mouth, either. But, in the end, the man would rather have you on your own terms, than not having you at all.

Just two individuals enjoying their time together. That’s why you end up watching a movie on the sofa that night, even if both of you feel stiff from the conversation you had at the table, as if you’re afraid to touch each other after the things that were said. Still, you want the other’s company, so neither of you really wants to leave, or cut the night short.

You end up sleeping in his bed, feeling way too overwhelmed with all your feelings and struggles to drive back home. And as much as this might sound bad after what you told him, you know that you can always find solace in the man’s embrace.

But now, as you lay peacefully asleep beside him, Lewis connects all the dots in his mind and everything seems to make sense. He was always amazed by the way you would just go back to work on your computer after having sex with him, not wasting any more time cuddling him in bed right after giving into your pleasure and needs.

You would always tell him about your tight deadlines whenever he called your name to meet him in bed again, but maybe it was never about the projects and the deadlines. It was because you never saw him as the cuddle type, really, as the type to actually get to know you. And as much as he is so sweet, so thoughtful with you, you never fully opened up to him - always keeping a very private side of you completely locked and unreachable, forbidding anything from coming out, and anything from coming in.

And he understands it now. You never really wanted him, you never really cared about his feelings, you definitely didn’t fall as hard as he did for you. You could feel his love reaching for your heart sometimes, but you never really allowed yourself to touch it as much as you could, as you are able to do. You know how dedicated you are when you are in love, and Lewis definitely deserved that side of you. But unfortunately, he is paying for all the things that other men did to you, and he has to put up with this personality that you created - one that doesn’t believe in love, that doesn’t even want to talk or think about it.

It runs in your family, really. Your mum and dad had a terrible marriage, you grew up surrounded by fights and lies, the image of what ‘love’ was supposed to be, doesn’t look the same to you as it does for the majority of people. And sometimes, when you think about, you question life, you grow frustrated, and you even put the guilt on your family, on your parents from getting married, for bringing you to this world to such a fucked up childhood, that never taught you what real love felt like, looked like. But there’s no point in putting the blame on someone else. This is your life, and you just need to deal with things the way they are.

Now, while your head is lying on his chest, your arms wrapped around his figure as you find some heat to help you sleep, his fingers play with your hair, his hand softly travels up and down your back while he still leaves some gentle kisses on the top of your head. And whenever he gets the chance to hold you close like this, breathing in your scent, he realizes how good it feels to finally have a bit of you, besides all the times you block him out. Lewis can’t sleep, and the thoughts of every word, every moment shared between you two, fly through his mind, not letting him get any rest. Instead, he just wonders what he did wrong, where did he fail, why don’t you want him just as much as he wants you. His brain kills him, haunts him, to the point that the driver can feel some hot tears threatening to spill from his eyes as he keeps looking down at you, imagining the incredible future that you two could have together, but that will never happen.

He catches himself hoping, almost praying, that at the end of all this, you won’t regret him - that’s a thought that he can’t even fathom, one that he will not be able to deal with. It’s crazy how, over the months that you’ve been seeing each other, he felt immediately hooked, and that sensation just keeps growing more and more every time he looks into your eyes. He belongs to you. And it kills him, because now he is attached to someone who is going to get rid of him anytime soon, when you get bored out of your mind and he doesn’t seem enough to fulfill your wishes and needs.

His heart races in his chest as he can’t control his emotions anymore, and Lewis grows scared that his heartbeat might wake you up from your slumber. So, carefully lying you back on your pillow, the man leaves the bed, desperately to find a safe corner where he can just breathe and let everything out of his body and mind.

He finds some peace and quiet while sitting on a stool in the kitchen, under the dim, yellow-ish light of the stove. Fidgeting with his fingers, Lewis tries his best to take deep breaths, trying to calm down his state. But instead, the more he tries, more tears escape his eyes, as the man allows them to slide down his features.

The salty water feels cold against his skin, staining his cheek as he hides his face in his hands, questioning why is this happening to him, how he can get rid of these feelings and situation now. The love he has for you won’t fade so quickly, and he knows he will suffer a lot when trying to forget you, because even now that he still has you in some way, he can’t help but see you everywhere when you’re not by his side.

Lewis quickly realized that he was falling for you, but he never really knew that you were so much, that you mean this much to him. After all, you came into his life in a glimpse of hope and fun, but you brought time with you, patience, kindness, happiness - things that he sometimes lacks on a daily basis full of work duties. Still, he has it all with you, because you have that effect on him.

And now, you ripped all hope from his figure, leaving him dark, cold, hurt and full of doubts. While his fingers clean the tears from his face, he can’t help but wonder: what is he supposed to do now, with a burning heart that stays still in his chest, waiting for yours to come by, to come closer, so they can meet once again and make love while you’re just simply talking or looking at each other, sharing small touches such as the tips of your fingers slowly intertwining across the table.

Everything has more meaning to him when it’s with you, whether it’s a kiss, having pizza together, singing in the shower. There’s no way this is just ‘two people having fun’. It was way too intimate, way too chemical, way too real. However, right now, it doesn’t really matter what he thinks, nor what his anxiety tells him. You made it clear that this is nothing that you want to take seriously, and he can’t force you. And just like history always shows, someone always ends up in ruins.

As you’re turning in bed, your arm mindlessly reaches for Lewis’ side, searching for some more comfort and warmth - only to be met with emptiness in his pillow. Slowly opening your eyes, you look around the room, noticing that you’re alone.

On any other night, you would turn to your side and go back to sleep again, patiently waiting for the man to come back to bed. But tonight, there’s a heavy weight lying on your chest as well, as if your conscience feels all the guilt pooling over you due to what you said earlier. Like a magnet, you get up quickly, walking through the corridors until you see his shadow sitting at the kitchen.

Sitting on a stool with his back to the door, some small sniffles escape his body from time to time, making you stop in your tracks. Leaning your silhouette on the door frame, you pay attention to the man’s movements: how his fingers wipe the tears from his face gently, the way he continuously shakes his head ‘no’ to himself, as if he is denying all his thoughts.

The sight truly is heartbreaking, and it’s enough to make you feel even worse than you have been feeling all day. The fear of getting hurt made you push Lewis away, even while sharing the bed with him, making him feel used and kicked to the side right after. The fear of not being enough, of being replaced by someone better, made you hurt the man that always treated you like a priority, even in the middle of his chaotic routine and schedules.

Even while being away, Lewis would send you cute ‘good morning’ texts, he would send flowers to your house, surprising you with them after a stressful day at work, alongside a loving card and your favourite chocolate. Even when he has little free time, he always thinks of you, calling you, talking to you, wondering how you’re doing, letting you know how he can’t wait to be back to London, just so he can be by your side again.

No, this isn’t something casual - and you know that since the beginning as well. Ever since the first kiss, sparks flew from your figures, erupting into the sky, almost showing the whole world how happy you feel whenever you’re together. But still, your brain and heart would fight an intense battle, trying to get you to listen to both, but you always let your brain win - the fear of getting hurt again is just too big.

But you never wanted any of this. You never really wanted him to leave your life, you never wanted to push him away. Instead, you just want him closer and closer, and if you both could be together, cuddled on the sofa 24/7, that would be ideal for you. So, seeing the man you love crying, heartbroken because of something you said - that you deeply regret, kills you. You don’t want to keep playing this façade, you need to finally be honest to yourself, above all, and admit your feelings. You know you feel safe enough with Lewis to do it.

Taking a silent deep breath, you walk inside the kitchen, startling the man as your hand carefully lands on his shoulder, catching his attention. The driver immediately rubs his face with his palms, wiping away all the tears that could still linger on the surface of his skin, trying to pretend like he had not been crying just now.

You sit beside him, looking at him with all the attention and care in the world. To tell the truth, Lewis feels way too self conscious to enjoy your intense stare on his figure right now, so he looks down at his hands again, trying to focus on anything but you.

- What are you doing here, this late at night? - your voice sounds soft and quiet, trying not to break the glassy silence that surrounds the environment around you two. - I just couldn’t sleep - he says, and it’s not a lie. But it’s not completely true, and you know that you will need to take charge of this situation, until he feels comfortable to open up to you again.

Leaning your head on his shoulder, his figure welcomes you instinctively, relaxing his tense muscles just so his body doesn’t feel so stiff when you lay on his skin.

- I think it’s time for us to be honest, Lew - you land a kiss on his arm, looking up at him when he meets your gaze, while still staying silent.

It’s time to use your heart, and not your eyes. It’s time to relax your mind, and allow your feelings to show, pouring them out to the man in front of you without feeling scared, showing him your most vulnerable side.

- Lewis, I’m scared… - you start, feeling your voice slightly trembling already as you try to open up to him, and show him why you’re so complicated, why your mouth says one thing while your heart feels another.

He still doesn’t say a thing, giving you time and space to organize your train of thought, to fight all the demons in your mind without pressure - but his eyes never leave you, reading every crevice of your face, every line telling him how much you regret what you said, and the way things have been developing.

- Love is not really something that I know how to do. My parents’ marriage was a fiasco, I grew up with a very distorted image of what love looked like. As I grew up, I tried to look for true love in everything, in everybody. But, as much as I would try, every romantic relationship I was in, ended up with me being completely heartbroken, ruined. I lost myself many, many times because of failed romances and cried myself to sleep so many nights. I’m actually such a sensitive person, I feel everything, I feel everybody, but it’s just easier for me to put on this ‘frozen heart’ persona. Because, this way, I don’t suffer. I don’t let anyone in, I don’t let any of my feelings out, always trying to protect myself the best I can.

As you start explaining, Lewis’ arm instinctively wraps around your figure, rubbing your back softly while you’re the one letting it out, crying in front of him. It feels weird to be honest and vulnerable after so many years of pretending, and as you do it, you just allow your pain to take over - but, in the end, this is who you are. This fucked up person, hurt, the result of so much trauma, constantly intoxicated by the other’s manipulation.

The more the cold tears paint your face, the more you realize how frail you actually are, how many problems you still need to bury and fix inside of you, and fear grows inside of you again - but now, you’re scared that Lewis will be the one leaving you alone after knowing all this about you, perceiving you as being ‘too much to deal with’.

- But then you showed up in my life, and changed everything. Changed the way I looked at life, how I saw my days at work, how I enjoyed my free time outside of my office. When I’m around you, I feel safe. So, so safe, maybe even too much, and that’s what makes me think, what makes me realize that I am falling for you more and more every day. And that’s why I slowly started to try and push you away. I was just trying to ignore these feelings that pop up in my chest every time I’m around you, trying to keep myself from suffering again. But the funny thing is, the harder I try, the more I hurt myself, and now I’m hurting you too… And, deep down, I don’t want any of that. I don’t want to push you away, I just want to pull you closer, and to explore our connection even further. Because you were right. We’re so much more than sex. I can’t stop thinking that every other person in my life, I just met them by chance. But you, Lew, I met you because I had to. And I need you - even if it’s really hard for me to admit this.

A river of tears is still silently sliding down your features, while Lewis gives you all the time to be honest with your feelings, and with himself. There’s a sensation of relief in the air after your words come out, a feeling that both you and Lewis can recognize inside of your hearts.

One new, single tear escapes the man’s eyes as he gives you a soft smile, his thumbs working to wipe away all the remains of sadness from your face. A moment of silence settles in again as the driver takes a deep breath. Even if he smiled at you, even if his facial expressions seem much lighter now, you can’t help but listen to the anxiety that reaches your brain now - still scared of his reply, of him realizing that you aren’t made for him.

You absolutely dread the thought of losing him, especially now that you were so transparent about your feelings, your reasons. He is the only person that truly gets you, in your good and bad moods, that knows how to deal with you in the best way - and because of all that, you only love yourself when you’re with him, when you’re feeling understood and held by him.

It might have been just a couple of seconds, but it felt like an eternity to you, until Lewis decided to finally speak up.

- I knew you were the one for me since the first time I saw you. Since the very first flirt, the way you called me a prick, how your eye rolls were enough to make me feel silly and warm inside. And after our first kiss, I was sure of everything I felt. And even if you have your fears and problems, I have mine too, baby. But I could never give up on you, never. I just want to make our little bubble the safest I possibly can. I want you to always feel secure and understood around me, so you can recover from everything that happened to you in the past - something that will never happen again with me by your side, love. - the man guarantees you, his hands cupping your face as you sniffle quietly at his sweet words.

Cutting the distance between your mouths, the driver lands the sweetest, softest kiss on your lips, leading you to hold his face closer, with your hand resting on the back of his neck. It’s slow, gentle, and warm. It feels like a cure to you.

- I had a spare set of keys in my pocket, while we were having dinner. I was going to give it to you. Please, take them - I want you to be here as much as you can, I want you to come in and out as you please, even if I’m not here, this place is a bit yours as well now. Do you have any idea of how many times I’ve been lying on the sofa, and I just daydream about you walking in without me expecting it? I want those kinds of surprises, the ones who allow me to spend more time with you - Lewis confesses, whispering in your lips as the tip of his nose gently nudges yours, making a genuine smile appear in your face.

Your chest races in your chest, not really believing that any of this is real, that he is still willing to fight for you, not giving up on your complicated self, but instead helping you recover from everything that hurt you.

- I want to take things slow, Lew… - you say low, almost ashamed of what you’re asking him, but he really understands you for who you are, and he knows that it’s hard for you to completely open up and face all your fears at once. - We have all the time in the world, my love. I’m not in a rush. I could never be when I’m with you, I just want to make the most out of every minute that I spend by your side - he immediately replies, pecking your lips softly again.

There it is: the shine that you love seeing so much, back into the man’s eyes as he looks at you - now, with the vision of a future by your side, the scenario that makes the blood in his veins run faster through his body. And you can’t see it, but you can feel your eyes glowing as well as you look back at the only man that always made you feel welcome in his arms, cared for, that sees you for you, lightening up parts of you that no one else knows about.

With the moon reflected on your features, Lewis opens his arms to nestle your body closer to his, hugging you close as your head rests on his chest, finally letting out a deep sigh of pure relief.

Maybe, all that pain, all the cries, all the trauma wasn’t in vain. Maybe everything was necessary, so you could find the right man for you, the one you truly love, the one that loves you right back in the same amount and intensity. Even after hurting him, pushing him away, breaking his heart in a million pieces just a couple of hours before, Lewis is still the pure, selfless soul that holds his hand out for you to take, the one that’s sympathetic, that does everything he can for you, your happiness, your wellbeing, willing to hop on this journey with you. The one that forgives you.

So now, it’s time for you to hold your soul, setting yourself free from all the guilt and shame that has lived inside of you for so many years now, breaking the generational curse that your family has been buried in when it comes to true love - praying that your kids won’t inherit you and the feelings you attract.

And as you cling on to Lewis’ figure harder, you thank life for putting him in your way, for giving you another chance at learning how to be loved, for allowing you to find a cure for your heart. Hugging him tighter, you set free Lewis’ power - may he heal you, may you two cure each other, creating a happier future together.

#the secret of us series #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton oneshot #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic

188 notes · View notes

kix-mm · 6 months ago

Note

Will their be part 3 of A once cruel god. G/t short story and end with a good ending?

A once cruel god. G/t short story pt4

Hehehehe

Pt1 - Pt3

Amber cautiously looked up at Victor, expecting the sight of some witty smile or the face of someone holding back a laugh. Maybe Victor had just gotten better at sounding serious... but not even his face gave away the joke.

Victors brows were furrowed into a worried expression, his eyes were strangely puffy, and there was no smile, not even a smirk. This was getting harder for Amber to tell if it was genuine or not. "Y-youre joking right, my lord?-" "Victor.."

Amber winced at his voice, bracing for any impact. "I'm sorry..?" "Call me by my name... not my title, please..." Victor asked with his hands clasped together. He almost looked like an angel whenever he did that. "Will you help me become a better person?" Victors eyes shimmer with hope, making Amber even more uncomfortable than he was a moment before. "Why me? How could I possibly help you? I'm just a human... you're a god, nothing I say has any meaning to you"

"That has changed..." Victor insisted, holding Ambers tiny hand with another one of his. "Please, give me a chance to listen and do better... I'll listen from now on, honest"

That stung Victor badly. How could he think something like that? Who had told him such a lie? Ambers words always meant so much to him. How could he not know this? Was his love for the human not clear enough? His praise and kindness were always something he'd stride for. But then again, praise and kindness had always been the only thing he'd listen to, though he could never understand it, he understood the tone, anything otherwise meant nothing to him... oh...

Amber instinctively pulled his hand back, afraid to lose the only one he had left. He could not believe what he was hearing, this all sounded so genuine, too good to be true, what was the catch? "A-and... if I can't? If I say something you don't like? What will happen to me?" He asks while rubbing his arm, looking down at the stump it was reduced to, Victor was already quite fond of the taste of humans, so would Amber become nothing more than a light snack?

"Nothing will!" Victor raises his voice in insistence. "N-nothing will happen to you! I'm asking you a favor after all." Amber seemed a little overwhelmed by the sudden pressure. If he was genuine about this, he would have the opportunity to make sure Victor never hurts anyone ever again! Nobody would ever have to go through the horrendous torture that so many lost their lives to... but on the other hand, Amber was a mere human. He didn't know what would be best for a giant - a god, what if he makes a mistake in his teaching? A human error?

Ambers' thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a loud growl, making the poor human freeze in fear. He looked up at Victor to see the young god flush red with embarrassment and hug his stomach. "s-sorry... wait- where are you going??" Amber had begun to once again desperately dragging himself away, as did every other human servant flee. This made Victor only feel more ostracized and embarrassed. "H-hey, come on... nothing is going to happen to you." He gently picks Amber up, who squirms at first but quickly gives up.

"My lord- Victor, please put me down - I-I don't want to - I promise I'll help you! I promise! Just please put me down!" Victor beams at Ambers words, once again ignoring the young man's plea in favor of Amber promising to help him. "Really? Do you mean it? Oh, thank you! Thank you so much!" He pushes Amber against his chest, a childlike joy radiated off of Victor. This was supposed to be a hug of some kind.

Then came another growl, Victor wanted to just sink through the floor and disappear. Even feeling Amber tensed up again was making him feel bad. He slowly placed Amber down and lowered himself to their height once more. "I'm sorry about that." Victor speaks in a soft voice, knowing all too well that a moment like this was responsible for a great deal of pain for Amber.

"Shouldn't you eat something..?" Victor shakes his head. "I can't yet, I'm on a diet..." Amber frowns "a diet? Why are you on a diet?" Victor taps his finger nervously on the marbled floor. "I...Ate someone..."

Amber looked confused. Yes, of course, he ate someone. His main diet consisted of human flesh, so it was to be expected that he might eat a human walking around carelessly.

But then he thought a little more about it, and the realization hit him like a brick. Victor wasn't talking about humans, was he? Rather, his own kind - a god. As if Victor wasn't enough of a menace already, he had to take it a step further and become a cannibal!

"You-" Victor nods slowly, his stomach growls some more. "I can't leave my room until all their remains have gone, so now I've just got... cravings..." he explains. "I couldn't help it, I really couldn't. Everything was so strange, and everyone was acting so weird, and I just - I don't know why I did it! I enjoyed it so much - Amber, it was terrible, I ate everything!" Victor holds his stomach tighter as it growls again.

Amber sat there in shock, eating humans was already seen as cruel, but it wasn't frowned upon too much by the gods, but one god eating another? That's a god eater, one of their only fears. As if Victor wasn't isolated enough due to his background, now he has become a threat to everyone involved.

"I won't hurt you, Amber... please don't look at me like I'm a monster.." Victor sounded devastated, not for what he did, but for seeing Ambers eyes like that.

"But... but you've just committed the biggest act of treason. You killed your own kind - you ate your own kind!" Amber had slowly tried to create some distance between the two, but it had no use, Victor wasn't going to let him hide this time.

Amber gulped, thoughts rapidly spun through his mind to try and sugar the god up, pleasing him is all that he knew could make a difference. But just as he was about sweeten his voice and speak some nonsense to go right to the gods head he was stopped by a large finger gently pressing against his lips.

"Amber... don't, please, I'm over that, and I just need you... to stay here with me. " Victors gaze was that of genuine need. Amber was all he had. No other human would feel like they were being listened to and would just continue to be a yes man. Victor laid his head down on the surface, his large eyes delicately trained on Amber.

"You can't help me with this, I merely have to wait it out... so in the meantime... could you teach me to be... better?" Victor asked, already knowing that the human didn't have much of an answer.

Amber looked nervous, rightfully so. There was so much pressure. What would he even begin with?

#g/t community #gt community #giant/tiny #g/t #gentle giant #my ocs #oc #my characters #own character #gt #g/t writing #giant #g/t ocs #g/t related #gianttiny #giant tiny #gt angst

71 notes · View notes

astrialuvs · 1 year ago

Text

"Lost in Your Gaze"

➻ SYNOPSIS : Staring at Karma's golden eyes always gets you mesmerized. The compliments you have been keeping for yourself had been spilled when you were in your drunken state - why not spill your feelings too.

➻ PAIRING : akabane karma x reader

➻ GENRE : post-timeskip, fluff, romance

➻ CONTENT WARNING : drunk confessions, mentions of alcohol,

➻ WORD COUNT : 1170 words

a/n: another repost from my old account mweheheh (ㅅ´ ˘ `); i honestly have a headcannon that karma's things are mostly coloured red;

After a long day at work, you stepped out of your office building, tired but relieved that the workweek was coming to an end. As you walked towards the sidewalk, you noticed Karma sitting on the hood of his unmistakable red car, a sly grin on his face.

He waved his hand cheerfully as he greeted you, making you squint your eyes. Your instincts are telling you something, or more like warning you.

"Hey there, Y/N," he greeted, his golden eyes gleaming mischievously. "Long day at the office?" You chuckled, appreciating the familiar banter.

"As always. And what brings you here? As far as I recall, I didn't call you to fetch me, so what's the deal?" you inquired, raising an eyebrow. As he approached you, he laughed, attempting to guide you inside his red car.

Karma slid off the hood, revealing a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I'm just waiting for you, my dear colleague. I figured you're going to Kayano-chan's place as well, so I thought of passing by." He winked at you before opening his car door for you.

"Welcome aboard." Still wary of his actions, you inspect him from head-to-toe.

'Not bad,' you thought. Cutting your train of thoughts, you shrugged off and went inside.

Little did you know, Karma had a prank up his sleeve. As soon as you sat down, you were jolted out of your seat. Behold, a fart cushion has been revealed. Karma burst out laughing. You fell for his prank once more.

"You did it on purpose, didn't yo-?" Karma shut the door on purpose to cut you off. You smacked Karma in the square face with the fart cushion as soon as he got in the car, earning a surprised yet amused expression from him. He laughed but had a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

"Alright, alright, you got me," he admitted, wiping away the imaginary stench.

"You came to get your daily dose of prank; you never change," you said as you tossed the cushion in the back.

"And you never did learn."

Your eyes unintentionally met, and the butterflies began to swarm inside your stomach, just as they had in previous scenarios. You've admitted to yourself that, for months, you developed feelings for Karma. You're not sure why, but you've recently realized that he's just right for you. Your gaze would unconsciously travel only to his figure. His antics never ceased to irritate you, but you somehow enjoyed them. You thought it was insanely stupid at first. Like, how could you fall for him based solely on his endless pranks? But then you noticed the way his mercury orbs looked at you. You don't want to assume, but whenever he looks at you, you get the impression that his gaze is genuine. When you're around, he's like an open book, so vulnerable and fragile. When you realized you had been staring out the window for too long, you quickly averted your gaze. You can't stand the embarrassment if he happens to realize it.

"Y'know, you do have a thing for red, don't you?" you wondered. From his necktie all the way to his car. You also recall that the majority of his clothing in high school was red. "I wouldn't be surprised if your toothbrush is also red," you joked.

"Haha, funny, but how did you know my toothbrush is red?" he admitted.

"You've got to be kidding me!" you exclaimed, perplexed.

"That's my color, I guess,'" he said jokingly. You could only hum to end the conversation while fiddling with your hands.

You became aware that you had fallen into a light slumber when you felt light taps on your shoulders and cheeks. You must have fallen asleep due to exhaustion.

"We're here?" you asked as you peered out the window. Finally, the sun had gone down. Karma unbuckled his seat belt, and you did the same.

"Look who fashionably came late," Kayano said as she opened her door and welcomed you. "Hmm, definitely not us, right, Karma?" Karma chuckled.

"Oh Kayano, I see, you've grown a little, huh?" you teased her jokingly as you hovered your hand a few centimeters above her head, earning a playful smack.

"Yo! It's been a while, guys," you said, noticing the others sitting at the living room table with cans of beer on top.

Upon arrival, you found that most of your friends were already in high spirits, enjoying the night with laughter and drinks. The gang settled in for a night of shared stories and camaraderie. You spent the night catching up on everyone's current life events, especially Kayano and Sugino, the group's superstars.

As the night progressed, the others gradually succumbed to the effects of alcohol. Your head begins to spin for the nth time. Nagisa had just passed out, and Okuda and Kanzaki had gone to one of Kayano's rooms. You only have an average tolerance for alcohol, so catching up to this point astounded you. Your sobriety has left you, which has caused you to say incoherent things. When you announced that you would be heading to bed, Karma offered to escort you.

Kayano led you both to a guest room in her condo, and as she left, you found yourself alone with Karma.He voluntarily stayed with you to look after you. With many shifts and turns, you finally lay on your back. There, in the quietude of the room, you couldn't help but stare into Karma's mesmerizing golden eyes.

In your slightly intoxicated state, you blurted out, "You know, Karma, I really like your eyes. They're like pools of gold. It makes me feel like I am enchanted by you."

He chuckled, his gaze softening. "Well, thank you, Y/N. I've always thought your eyes were pretty amazing too."

You get to see this side of Karma when you two are alone. Maybe because you find solace in each other's comfort. Or even deeper than it is.

The atmosphere in the room shifted, and you felt a surge of courage. "No, Karma, I mean... I really like you."

His eyes widened in surprise, and a moment of silence lingered between you. Karma has said something incoherent to himself, something you can't comprehend. The atmosphere made you a little self-conscious. You wondered about the implications of your drunken confession. Turning around, you settled in, laying on your stomach.

"Hey! Say something!" You grunted as you continued to feel his gaze bore into your figure. Feeling the annoyed emotions, you swatted his face away, making him chuckle and stare at you more.

"Stop staring at me," you declared, dipping your face into the pillow. You stayed in that position for a while, finally passing out some time. Karma nudged you 'until he was finally convinced that you had finally passed out. He tucks your hair behind your ear and runs his fingers through your cheeks.

Little did you know that this moment would lead to a series of events that would unfold in the days to come.

#assassination classroom #karma #karma akabane #karma assassination classroom #karma akabane x reader #karma x reader #Karma fluff #Assassination Classroom drabbles #akabane karma #akabane karma x reader #akabane karma fluff

188 notes · View notes

miyamoratsumuu · 10 months ago

Text

UNSENT LETTERS

↳ he was a writer, you were his muse. and every stroke of his pen reminded him just why all he wished for was to be the one to love you until the end of forever. iwaizumi hajime x female reader wc: 864 note: sappy, lovesick hajime. set around the 1950s or so?? not modern times, basically. phones did not exist yet, and traditional courting was all the rage :D

navigation . . .

haikyuu masterlist

"how many poems have gone unnoticed? my only wish is to be with you until the end"... now playing, leonora by sugarcane

the relationship between you and hajime was like no other. even though he was only courting you now, he treated you as if you were the only woman in the world.

he picked you up from your house for days together, gave both you and your mother flowers whether there was an occasion or not, and visited you after days of not seeing each other. he would have his guitar in hand, giving you a warm smile as he handed you a flower.

"let me sing for you tonight, gorgeous." hajime would sing you songs of adoration, as each chord he played on his guitar matched his voice perfectly. the looks he gave you as he sang were filled with nothing more than genuine fondness, and you felt it.

on days you and hajime were apart, a letter neatly folded inside an envelope was delivered to your front door. every single letter you've received from hajime were words of his longing and endearment towards you, as he never failed to express how much he truly loved you.

"my love, I hope you've been well. I am deeply looking forward to seeing you again soon."

"no matter how bad the rainstorm, your smile is all I need for clear skies, darling."

"I'm half a man whenever I'm apart from you, my beloved."

he loved sending you letters, it was his love language. if he couldn't put his feelings into words, he was confident enough in his writing skills to express his love to you through ink on a piece of paper.

he did it not only to assure you of his undying love but also to prove to you that he was willing to wait. he was willing to spend his days writing letter after letter for you, as long as you knew him for his affection.

the only pieces of writing he never sends you were his poems. each line is made to rhyme with the previous one as they work together to convey your beauty as a person. he could never send you those, as he considered them keepsakes of the parts of you that you only allowed him to see.

all the while hajime will do anything to prove he's worthy of your love. even if it costs him the rest of his life, he'll do it. he needs you to know that you're deserving of someone who would wait a whole lifetime just to love all of you.

hajime loved you. and if the numerous kisses on the cheek and letters that reply to the ones he sent weren't enough, the look in your eyes was enough to tell him that you returned his feelings. he was confident that you loved him.

that was until your smile began to look dim when you spent your days with him. until the warmth in your gaze whenever you looked at him disappeared. and until you stopped replying to his letters.

the day five of his daily letters went un-replied to, he decided to visit your home. only to find out from your next door neighbor that you and your family moved out a week ago. he felt his heart drop as he heard the news. you left. and he didn't know. how could he? you never told him. the only signs you spared were your painfully obvious distancing of yourself from him.

despite his disappointment, his confidence in you loving him didn't falter. he was drowned in his thoughts. he refused to believe that all the days and late nights you spent together meant nothing in the end.

he continued to write for you. day by day, piles of unsent letters and unheard poems filled the corner of his bedroom, each of the envelopes slowly collecting dust from the outside. each letter still contained his commitment to you, and the hope that you will come back to him.

numerous times, he was told that he had to move on and that he could find someone new. he was too young to be throwing away his life for someone who packed their things and left without a word.

he never listened to them. though, he decided to finally write another letter to you. he promised himself it would be the last one for a while.

hajime signed the letter as he set his pen down beside the piece of paper. his gaze traveled to the farthest end of his desk, and then he stood up and left the room before the portrait of both of you with loving expressions could taunt him longer. the last time he felt your presence was in his dreams, and that was weeks ago.

until when was he going to put up with this? until his heart felt numb and until forever ended. he'll wait, for his own sake. you were the reason long before, and it's still you until today. he isn't planning on changing that.

his last letter now sat on top of the pile of unsent ones. that corner of his room now marked the love that was left in him that he could never give to anyone else.

hajime's until next time:

GILIW KO & AKING SINTA: two filipino terms for "my love"

both letters say the same thing, the right one is just there in case the one on the left is hard to read:)

a/n: guitar player iwa has been on my mind for AGES??? i HAD to somehow incorporate that into this 🙋🏻‍♀️ also, please excuse my editing skills on the first pic, ahahadhauehdahah

#🖇️[ haikyuu ]#🖇️[ drabbles ]#i love half filipino iwa sm #iwaizumi hajime #hajime iwaizumi #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi angst #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #iwaizumi drabble #haikyuu drabble #filipino iwaizumi #half filipino iwaizumi

70 notes · View notes

catsushinyakajima · 6 months ago

Note

hey hey I finished reading your "the adults are talking" and you WRECKED ME, like I genuinely don't think you could understand how absolutely ripped apart and splayed open I was. I was crying thick sob tears and putting the fic down, just to pick it back up and immediately start crying again. happened like 4 times.

you wrote it so, so wonderfully, and truly captured insecure Lance in a way that broke me. the characterization in each paladin member was distinctive and fit in the scenario, from their emotional reactions, to their outward displays, to the unique patterns of their speech (and even writing, for Keith n Lance). I loved how you wrote Keith and Lance, but I also absolutely loved the scene where Shiro talks to Lance, cause FUCK, it fucking hurt but was SO in character for him. devastating blow.

also the idea is so perfect? especially for langst?? and executed even more perfectly????? the pacing carried the emotion through it, never too rushed or slow, it was just... perfect.

anyways I'm currently reading through the other KL fics you've got and immensely enjoying the experience, but I needed to tell you how much this fic got to me. you wonderful wonderful writer 🙏

quick link to fic before my response: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59321800

HI HI OKAY SO-

*hands you a tissue for your tears* sorry?? I suppose?? But also your welcome?? I suppose??

It means so much to me that you like my work. Like so much. I'm like squirming with excitement, which is not good because it's causing my laptop to connect/disconnect from charging repeatedly (my charger is weird idk and my laptop's on my lap).

I can never tell how my writing is perceived to others because I'm so used to my words so every time I read it I'm like "okay....ig??" So this is great confirmation that my writing does NOT SUCK THANK YOU!! Thank you very much. It means a lot to my writer heart.

I think speaking is such a valuable and preferred method of communication to Lance. More than having a lot on his mind to say, I think it is a way for him to genuinely connect with people and he puts a lot of weight into his words and the words of people around him (especially if those words are directed at him). I'd like to think that its importance to him is a double edged blade. There are positives such as treasurable interactions, being able to express himself, having a thriving social life, etc. But there are also negatives like over-picking people's words or lack thereof, worrying about saying the wrong thing or too much/too little, putting so much value into his words that it starts to feel meaningless, etc. I wanted to play with the balance between these factors and that's how I came up with this fic!

I'm glad that the way I portrayed his thoughts and feelings resonated with you. I struggle with similar anxieties and it was very natural for me to write Lance's perspective in this fic, so I understand why it would feel personal. I hope that you are never in a situation where uh...you get zapped and your voice box gets paralyzed so you can't speak and are in imminent pain?? But in all seriousness, there is importance to yourself and your words no matter what you or others lead you to believe. Similar to the way I didn't realize the extent of the impact my fic had on people, you might not realize the impact you have on other people. Exhibit A: Your message to me was genuinely so kind and every single sentence you took the time to write means so much to me. I'm definitely coming back to this ask whenever I'm feeling down.

On another note, I feel so bad for making you cry that I'm thinking of writing a Lance Fluff fic to make up for it. What would that be called? If there's Langst, then would that be L' Fluff? Lafluff? L' Hurt/Comfort? If you have any requests or ideas let me know because I'm writing it with you in mind- no pressure, though.

Anyways see you around! I hope you have a good day and week and month and forever and read more good KL fics! Once again, thanks so much for reading!

#Klance #klance fic #langst #lance mcclain #keith kogane #vld fic #voltron legendary defenders #my first ask about a fic I wrote #AHHHHHHHHHHHHH #thinking about printing this out and putting it on my wall but I don't want my friends to find my tumblr #maybe Ill censor my handle lmao

34 notes · View notes

throughgoalsandbaskets · 1 year ago

Text

A Demon's Guide to Anthropology

part: 3

Word count: 657

Tags: use of 'MC's and they/them pronouns, sensory sensitivity on MC's end, written to be seen as sensory processing disorder, written based on my experience with it but I tried to change it to be broader

Word: "sensory"

Beel's time to shine :], also this is genuinely such bad writing I'm sorry, gonna come back and edit this to be better some day lol

★• ——— –– -

Beelzebub is a lot more perceptive than people like to give him credit for. With brothers like his and being an athlete, he has to be in order to know what's going on.

Which is why it doesn't take him long to notice the way that MC shies away from a lot of foods, clothes, and objects. Completely random to the common eye, but Beelzebub is most concerned with the food issue.

It's not like MC doesn't eat, not at all, they're healthy and never skin out on a good, fresh meal, but they're always so odd with what they eat.

Meats are off the table most of the time, which isn't all that bad. A lot of people just don't like meat. But some drinks and a good few veggies and fruits added onto that is what confuses him.

Maybe MC was just a picky eater, which again is fine, Devildom foods are weird to get used to, but it also seemed prevalent in human foods, too. To Beel, it seemed completely random, from a few spicy foods to a few sweets and sours, in his eyes he couldn't find a common connection.

So with a breath, he knocked on MC's door and entered when he was allowed.

Beelzebub wasn't normally so nervous or anxious, but he knew human bodies were delicate and didn't want MC and their odd aversions to certain objects or foods to somehow leave a bad mark.

"MC," he began after entering and shutting the door. The human sat in their bed with their D.D.D. in hand, "I have a question."

Intruiged and curious as always, MC responds.

"What's up, Beel? Something wrong?"

"Are you okay?" MC blinks, a little caught off guard at the vague question. The giant demon stood above them, looking down and vaguely reminding the human of a large dog looking at a toy it was attached to.

"Uh- elaborate?"

"You don't eat some stuff and you don't touch some things."

To their credit, MC understood after a moment, and they tried not to seem rude by the way they gave a laugh and smile, shaking their head.

"Do you mean how I don't like touching certain fabrics or eating certain foods?" The ginger nodded at the question.

"That's kinda common for humans," MC explained, "It's called sensory sensitivity. Some textures feel really bad to touch or to eat, so I tend to avoid them. Nothing is wrong with me, I promise."

Beelzebub nodded in solemn understanding, sitting beside the mortal on the rather Plush and comfortable bedding. In his hands was a small box of cookies he knew they favored a lot that he'd taken with him. It took everything in Beelzebub's power not to tear the box open and have at the cookies himself.

"So you can't have some foods or wear some things because they feel weird?"

MC nodded, though they didn't seem very down about it. To them, it was simply another day like any other, knowledge as common as grass is green and Luke despises anything demonic.

To Beelzebub, though, it solidified his resolve as he passed the now opened box of cookies over, one in hand and another in his mouth.

"What food can you not have? I'll eat them for you."

The serious expression to the previous words caused another laugh to bubble out of MC, and they took their own cookie from the box.

"It's hard to explain, but I'll pass you any whenever they come with a meal I have. Deal?"

Beelzebub nodded and put a hand on MC's head (the demon struggled sometimes with such casual affection and touch with most people, but had recently picked up on simply resting a hand on the mortal's head and leaving it there for a minute), and after a few moments a comfortable silence and sharing cookies, he spoke once more.

"Hell's Kitchen?"

"Hell's Kitchen."

#blanketbvby #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me mc #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel x reader #i did beel's so dirty im sorry 😭

123 notes · View notes

agirlwithdemonblood · 10 months ago

Text

The Celebrity Next Door: Chapter 8: Embracing Enough

Pairings: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Chapter Summary: A day spent on the board walk brings a whirwind of emotions.

Warnings: Panic attacks, fluff, panicking, insecurities.

Series Masterlist here!! & Main masterlist here!

Time flies when you're having fun, or so they say.

I used to doubt it; fun didn't always make time race by for me. But this past week with Jensen and his kids felt like just hours since they arrived. Now here they were, packing up to head back to their mom's place.

I gathered my things, slipping on my shoes by the back door, preparing to leave when Jensen wandered over, a playful smirk on his face. "Where are you sneaking off to?" he teased, pulling me close by my coat.

I chuckled, gently pushing his chest back. "Home, silly."

His smile faltered, and he looked at me, surprised, almost hurt. "Why?"

Confusion washed over me as I approached him, offering a polite smile. "What do you mean, why? Out of respect. Remember last time?"

His expression turned cold, and he glanced away, attempting to rebuild his walls. "Hey, Jensen, don't do that," I urged gently. "I'm not trying to upset you. Last time we agreed we were enjoying the drama-free zone. We don't have to change anything."

He frowned, shaking his head. "I want it to change. I don't want to hide anymore. This past week has been amazing for all of us. I want our little bubble to pop and step into the real world, together."

I smiled, setting my bag down and moving closer to wrap my arms around him. "Then let's pop it."

Half an hour later, the kids' mom arrived.

I swallowed my nerves, standing from my spot, glancing to Jensen who seemed even more nervous than I was.

Her face dropped when she saw me, a knowing smile on her lips. "Oh, Hi. Y/N, right?" she greeted, stepping closer to us.

I nodded, smiling warmly. "Yes, nice to see you again, Sarah!"

She maintained her composure, glancing at Jensen, who was unusually quiet and still, frozen almost. "Jensen? Are you going to say hi or just stand there like a deer in headlights?" she teased.

Jensen managed a polite smile, shaking off his nerves. "Hey, Sarah. How was the drive?"

She shrugged, looking towards her car. "Not bad. I do miss Austin, though. Might consider moving back."

Jensen's jaw clenched, his expression turning cold and guarded, walls going up brick by brick. I stepped back, letting them talk, sitting beside the kids on the stairs.

"So, did you guys have a good week?" I asked.

Katie nodded, leaning against my shoulder. "I'll miss you!"

I laughed softly, touched by her words. "I'll miss you too, Katie. But don't worry, I live right next door. Come visit me whenever you're back, okay?"

She nodded eagerly, and I turned to Kevin, who sat with arms crossed, wearing a grouchy expression. "And you, Kevin? Did you have a good week?"

He shrugged and huffed, retreating into his cold behaviour as if the week hadn't happened at all. It stung a bit, but he was a kid, struggling with the back-and-forth between parents. It couldn't be easy.

The parents' voices rose before falling silent altogether. Jensen walked away from Sarah, shaking his head, and approached Katie and Kevin, attempting a smile. "Come on, guys. Time to get in the car."

We waved goodbye as they drove off, and I couldn't help but feel a sting of sadness seeing Katie and Jensen look so downhearted. They weren't my family yet, but I could feel myself growing emotional seeing the hurt that filled the area.

Once the car was out of sight, Jensen sat on the stairs, and I joined him quickly. He stared out at the road, jaw clenched, fists tight with whatever was going on in his mind.

"Jensen?" I whispered, catching his attention.

He turned towards me, managing a sad smile. "I'm good. It's just a lot sometimes."

I nodded understandingly, squeezing his hand tightly. "Well, why don't we do something today? Get out of the house a bit?"

He smiled genuinely and squeezed my hand. "Yeah. Let's do it."

After looking up things to do, Jensen suggested we visit the beachside market. It had little kiosks and stands with handmade items, something I was excited to explore.

We parked on the street, his hand finding mine immediately. Jensen was never shy about affection in the right moments. With his kids around, it was innocent; just the two of us, it was constant and comforting.

As we strolled down the pier, I admired the beautiful booths displaying a range of handmade items—henna art, handmade bags, clothing, and more. It felt like walking through an art exhibit, each stall captivating my attention.

Jensen chuckled softly, drawing my gaze. "What?" I asked nervously.

He smirked, pulling me close. "You're adorable. That's what."

My cheeks flushed at the compliment, Jensen was never shy of that either. He'd constantly throw compliments at me, telling me how beautiful I was, how adorable. He didn't realize how much those words meant to me, especially since I didn't feel like skmeone who belonged beside a celebrity like him, but he made me feel otherwise.

We continued down the boardwalk, stopping at each booth. Jensen paused at a display of handmade gemstone necklaces while I spotted something intriguing at the nearby booth—a handmade beanie with "COD" embroidered on it, Call of Duty.

My thoughts turned to Kevin. Would he like it? Would he find it ridiculous? Jensen wrapped his arms around me from behind, a soft kiss on my shoulder sending shivers down my spine. "What are you looking at?"

I smiled, pointing to the beanie hanging on the rack. "I'm not sure if Kevin would like it, but..."

He turned me to face him, a wide grin on his face. "He'd love it."

We purchased the beanie and were about to leave when giggling caught my attention. Two girls from a nearby booth were whispering and giggling, eyeing Jensen like he was a celebrity cutout.

Time seems to fly when you're having fun, or so they say. I used to doubt it; fun didn't always make time race by for me. But this past week with Jensen and his kids felt like mere hours since they arrived. Now they were packing up to head back to their mom's place. Kevin and Katie sorted their bags in the hallway while Jensen came down the stairs, as usual, to see them off.

I gathered my things, slipping on my shoes by the back door, preparing to leave when Jensen hurried over, a playful smirk on his face. "Where are you sneaking off to?" he teased, pulling me close by my coat.

I chuckled, gently pushing his chest back. "Home, silly."

His smile faltered, and he looked at me, surprised, almost hurt. "Why?"

Confusion washed over me as I approached him, offering a polite smile. "What do you mean, why? Out of respect. Remember last time?"

He frowned, shaking his head. "I want it to change. I don't want to hide anymore. This past week has been amazing for all of us. I want our bubble to be real. I want us to step out into the real world together."

I smiled, setting my bag down and moving closer to wrap my arms around him. "Then let's change it."

Half an hour later, the kids' mom arrived. I swallowed my nerves, standing my ground as Jensen seemed even more nervous than me.

Her face dropped when she saw me, a knowing smile on her lips. "Oh, hi. Y/N, right?" she greeted, stepping closer to us.

I nodded, smiling warmly. "Yes, nice to see you again, Daneel!"

She maintained her composure, glancing at Jensen, who was unusually quiet and still, frozen almost. "Jensen? Are you going to say hi or just stand there like a deer in headlights?" she teased.

Jensen managed a polite smile, shaking off his nerves. "Hey, Daneel. How was the drive?"

She shrugged, looking towards her car. "Not bad. I do miss Austin, though. Might consider moving back."

Jensen's jaw clenched, his expression turning cold and guarded, walls going up brick by brick. I stepped back, letting them talk, sitting beside the kids on the stairs.

"So, did you guys have a good week?" I asked.

Katie nodded, leaning against my shoulder. "I'll miss you!"

I laughed softly, touched by her words. "I'll miss you too, Katie. But don't worry, I live right next door. Come visit me whenever you're back, okay?"

She nodded eagerly, and I turned to Kevin, who sat with arms crossed, wearing a surly expression. "And you, Kevin? Did you have a good week?"

He shrugged and huffed, retreating into his chilly demeanor as if the week hadn't happened at all. It stung a bit, but he was a kid, grappling with the back-and-forth between parents. It couldn't be easy.

The parents' voices rose before falling silent altogether. Jensen walked away from Daneel, shaking his head, and approached Katie and Kevin, attempting a smile. "Come on, guys. Time to get in the car."

We waved goodbye as they drove off, and I couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness seeing Katie and Jensen look so crestfallen. They weren't my family yet, but I felt a deep emotional tug.

Once the car was out of sight, Jensen sat on the stairs, and I joined him quickly. He stared out at the road, jaw clenched, fists tight with some inner turmoil.

"Jensen?" I whispered, catching his attention.

He turned towards me, managing a sad smile. "I'm good. It's just a lot sometimes."

I nodded understandingly, squeezing his hand tightly. "Well, why don't we do something today? Get out of the house a bit?"

He smiled, the first genuine one all morning. "Yeah. Let's do it."

After looking up things to do, Jensen suggested we visit the beachside market. It boasted kiosks and stands with handmade items, something I was excited to explore.

As we strolled down the pier, I marveled at the beautiful booths displaying an array of handmade goods—henna art, handmade bags, clothing, and more. It felt like walking through an art exhibit, each stall captivating my attention.

Jensen chuckled softly, drawing my gaze. "What?" I asked nervously.

He smirked, pulling me close. "You're adorable. That's what."

My cheeks flushed at the compliment, Jensen never holding back his admiration. He didn't realize how much those words meant to me. I didn't feel like someone who belonged beside a celebrity like him, but he made me feel otherwise.

We continued down the boardwalk, stopping at each booth. Jensen paused at a display of handmade gemstone necklaces while I spotted something intriguing at the adjacent booth—a handmade beanie with "COD" embroidered on it, Call of Duty.

I smiled, pointing to the beanie hanging on the rack. "I'm not sure if Kevin would go for it, but..."

He turned me to face him, a wide grin on his face. "He'd love it."

I purchased the beanie and were about to leave when giggling caught my attention. Two girls from a nearby booth were whispering and giggling, eyeing Jensen like he was a celebrity cutout.

I glanced at Jensen, who seemed unbothered, unaware of the giggles or the fingers being pointed his way, and then I remembered. He's a celebrity-this is normal for him.

We started to walk back down the boardwalk when their high pitched screams stopped us in our tracks, the girls from before rushing over, stopping only inches from Jensen.

"Jensen! Oh my god! Can we get a picture please?"

Jensen turned towards me apologetically, but I shrugged it off with a polite smile. I knew this could have happened, I knew he was a celebrity, I just forgot. I didn't realize how intense this could be. How does he handle this?

After snapping a few photos for the girls, I handed back their phone. Insecurities started swallowing me, watching their perfect smiles, beautiful clothing and sun-kissed skin, and than there was me. I wasn't the type anyone would expect to see with a celebrity. Anxiety crept in, wondering why Jensen chose me.

I passed the phone back and started walking down the boardwalk, my anxiety rising with every step, the air in my lungs squeezing tight as my mind continued it's torture.

He caught up as I walked ahead, his hand gently resting on my back. "Hey... Are you okay?"

I nodded, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach my eyes. Panic swirled inside me, doubts echoing loudly.

Your not enough. Your fooling yourself by thinking he would EVER want to be with you. Jensen deserves better. He doesn't find you attractive. You're nothing.

"Honey?" Jensen whispered, stopping me and looking into my eyes, concern etched on his face.

I swallowed hard, a raspy cough escaping me, breathing fast. "Okay... okay, deep breaths," Jensen coached gently, his touch comforting.

I hated it. I hated that he was staring at me like this. I hated that I was ruining everything with my stupid mind. I hated that he had to take care of me. I hated that I wasn't good enough for him.

His hand was gentle yet firm on my arm, leading me to the stairs on the pier to get some privacy. I shakingly sat down, throwing my head in my hands to avoid whatever pity look he was offering me.

"Honey. Please talk to me, what's going on?"

Great job Y/N, now your worrying him for no reason.

"Jensen... you don't need to... I'll be okay," I managed between breaths, but the fear and sadness in my eyes were evident.

"Why are you saying this?" he asked softly, tilting his head, eyes searching mine.

I shook my head, tears streaming down. "Because... I'm not worth it... I don't fit in your world, Jensen Ackles and... I'm just me."

He took my hand, tilting my chin to meet his gaze. A soft smile graced his lips as he spoke, his eyes firm. "Says who?"

"Everybody." I raised my voice, the anxiety rising each moment. "Society. You seen those girls, I'm nothing compared to them. Their sun kissed skin, beautiful outfits and model like faces. I'm not like that at all."

He nodded and moved in front of me, holding my hands tightly. "You're right. Your not like those girls, that's why I like you. I love that even though you've been here for a while, you still have light skin, I love that I can clearly see the sun spots and freckles on your face, I love that you don't spend hours in the mirror putting makeup on, you just instantly look gorgeous. What you look like doesn't determine your worth but if it did, trust me your more than worth it."

I rolled my eyes and gained the courage to stand, my thoughts spiralling. "You don't need to say that."

He moved quickly, grabbing my arm and spinning me around until I was nestled tightly against him, his hand softly urging my head to rest on his chest.

"You are more than enough. You've never demanded anything from me. You gave me a second chance when I didn't deserve it. You've helped me countless times without expecting anything in return. And you connect with my kids so well—Kevin won't admit it, but he likes you. You've made an effort to play video games with him, to do what he enjoys. Katie takes up a lot of time, and I worry he feels left out, but you see him. You effortlessly balance everything, without seeking praise."

I wrapped my arms around him, holding him tightly, feeling him ground me. He understood me better than anyone.

"You will always be more than enough for me. You're the one I want to be with. Those other girls? They're not beautiful to me. You are beautiful. Naturally, flawlessly gorgeous. Just look at yourself... You take my breath away, honey."

Jensen gently lifted my face towards his, kissing me with a passion I'd never known before. Our bodies pressed together, warmth enveloping us. His hands moving to my hair, pulling me impossibly closer, making sure that I knew he meant what he said.

Each pause for breath left us gasping, caught in a whirlwind of emotions. We were falling in love, or perhaps we already had.

If he could love me like this, then maybe, just maybe, I truly was enough.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Chapter 9 coming soon stay tuned!

Like, comment, and reblog, feedback is my fuel 💕

#jensen ackles x you #jensenxyou #jensen ackles x reader #jensen x reader #jensen and danneel #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural one shot #spn fic #dean #deanwinchester #spns #jensen's smile

37 notes · View notes