#equal parts laughter and tears

[fairweathermyth]

endless gifs of tv shows that i love || reservation dogs

Well, you know... we're all connected on a molecular level. So, even if you're not seeing them, the, uh, quantum thread cannot be disentangled. -What?- Uh, let me put it this way. Uh, the soul contract cannot be, um, untethered. -What?- These are bonds you don't want to break.

[milswrites]

Happy Ending

Based on this request

Pairing: Azriel X Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel's brothers remind him that he deserves happiness too.

Warnings: An equal amount of fluff and angst.

Word count: 2.9k

Notes: I wrote this while in a massive slump so I’m scared to post this lol. Consider this my advanced apology in case this isn’t very good.

Azriel was spellbound; the male finding himself unable to do anything but bask in the majesty of your ethereal form. Admiration pooling in the shadowsinger's eyes as he absorbed the enchanting glow of your sun-kissed skin.

He watched you.

Mouth parting in awe as his hazel eyes lingered over your soft figure as you rose from the picnic blanket. Your beauty likening that of the Mother herself as the radiant light of the afternoon sun encircled the crown of your head like a lucent halo.

He watched you.

His usually stoic lips upturned into a gentle smile as a giggling Nyx ran into your waiting arms. Heart fluttering uncontrollably as he watched the young boy place a loving kiss onto your cheek before you reciprocated the gesture with a beaming grin.

He watched you.

Because if he didn't, then he was sure to wake; with you only the object of his wildest dreams.

~~~

"You're staring again," Cassian chimed, a wicked smirk crossing his face as he propped himself up from the blanket he was laying on in order to face a flustered Azriel, "It's starting to get a little creepy."

"I am not staring!" Azriel hissed through clenched teeth. And yet, despite having been called out for it by his brother, Azriel's eyes failed to leave your glowing form as you walked away from where the males were sat to head towards the river's edge alongside Feyre and Nesta.

"Did you know your wings twitch when you're lying brother?" Cassian teased, chuckling as he ducked his head in order to dodge the cushion a disgruntled Azriel had thrown his way. The shadowsinger managing to tear his eyes from you for long enough to send a menacing glare in his brother's direction.

"I mean, can you really blame her for not acknowledging you, Az?" Rhysand asked with a snigger, violet eyes dancing with mirth as he playfully nudged Azriel's shoulder with his own, "it's not your fault that the heir of the Night Court is just as charming as his father."

Unimpressed by Rhysand's egocentric comment, Azriel and Cassian shifted their gaze from where the group of females were playing with Nyx down by the river to look towards each other. Their apathetic brows raising in union before the two males proceeded to launch their cushions at Rhysand's face.

Scoffing at the shrill cry which followed, Azriel shook his head as he turned his attention back to you. The ghost of a smile working its way onto the shadowsinger's lips as he watched you hold on to Nyx's hands in order to steady the child as he paddled in the shallows. His heart swelling at the dulcet sound of your cheery laughter as the squealing boy playfully splashed the flowing water towards you.

Unfortunately Azriel's watchful admiration didn't last for long, Cassian's tentative voice once more breaking the silence of an otherwise peaceful afternoon, "Az ?. . ."

"Don't push me Cass," Azriel warned, eyes rolling as they briefly flickered towards the general in disapproval, "or cauldron help me, that stone Nyx is throwing won't be the only thing sinking to the bottom of the river."

"Oh sure, my lips are sealed," Cassian shrugged dismissively as he moved to lay back down, voice laced with amusement as he offhandedly added, "I won't even mention the fact that your shadows have taken a little trip down to the river to visit a certain someone."

Azriel's attention snapped back towards the body of water where - just as Cassian had noted - two rogue shadows had taken it upon themselves to curl around not only the tiny heir, but also you. The shadowsinger's heart sinking to his stomach as his wide eyes took in the disobedient shadow which had lovingly snaked its way around the curve of your waist.

A sputtering Azriel worked to tug the insubordinate shadow away from you, cursing as it refused to budge from where it was comfortably resting. The smoky tendril seeming to have a mind of its own as it stubbornly ignored its master's fretful call.

This movement didn't go unnoticed by you. Your curious gaze dropping to the shadow which was tenderly embracing your waist, a soft smile gracing your lips as you lifted your bright eyes to meet Azriel's own panicked ones. The bashful male blushing a deep shade of red as you cheerfully waved in his direction.

Azriel sheepishly waved back, a crooked smile stretching across his reddened face as he nervously uttered under his breath, "Cauldron boil me."

"I don't get it," Rhysand started, brows knitting together in confusion as he observed Azriel's failed efforts of trying to reign in his unruly shadows, "you obviously like her, and it's clear your shadows do too . . . So why haven't you done anything?"

"It's never come up," Azriel justified with a shrug, clearing his throat in a poor attempt of acting casual, "we're both busy people, sometimes it's just easier to stay friends."

Cassian snorted at Azriel's words, lips curling into a devilish grin as he chided his brother, "Liar. Your wings are twitching again."

Azriel rolled his eyes, wings curling in defense as he reasoned, "Look I don't even know if she's interested in -"

"Bullshit" Rhysand interjected, scoffing at the inaccuracy of Azriel's traitorous thoughts.

"Rhys-"

"Az, she is totally in love with you."

"But how do you even-"

"Azriel!" Rhysand exclaimed, resting a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder in order to ground him, "only a fool would look at the way she looks at you and think that she doesn't feel the same."

A shaky breath rattled in Azriel's chest, his dejected hazel eyes looking up to meet the violet irises of his brother's concerned stare, "It doesn't matter. Even if she does like me . . . I'm not good enough for her."

"Not good enough?" Cassian questioned with an uncertain laugh, pulling Azriel's attention from Rhysand to himself, "Az, you're a six-foot-four Illyrian with immense power and an - admittedly - impressive wingspan. I think it's safe to say that you're good enough for anyone."

Azriel released a sad laugh at Cassian's misunderstanding, the shadowsinger taking a moment to close his eyes and inhale deeply before speaking, "Thanks Cass, but that's not what I meant. I just . . . I think she deserves someone who is worthy of her love."

"You think you're unworthy?" Cassian asked in surprise, while, in the same breath, Rhysand reassured, "But you are worthy, Az."

"No," Azriel disagreed with a low shake of his head, his sorrowful eyes returning to where you were wading through the water with Nyx safely held between your arms, "she's everything good about the world and I won't ruin that - I can't . . . Sometimes perfect things are better left untouched."

"Az, why would you even think like that?" Cassian pressed in disbelief, hurt crossing his features as he listened to the shadowsinger's deprecating words.

Azriel's brows pulled together in shame, expression forlorn as he began to explain, "The things I've done? . . . The things I'm capable of doing? She doesn't need to be exposed to that life. Cass, she deserves better than me."

Rhysand guffawed at Azriel's remark, his head thrown back in glee as he clutched at his chest. Even Cassian found humor in the situation, the male hiding his deep chuckle behind a half-hearted cough, wiping faux tears from his eyes as the High Lord stated, "That Az, is the stupidest thing I have ever heard."

"I'm glad you guys find my insecurities amusing."

"We hear you Az - really, we do," Rhysand consoled his brother, the male's laughter simmering into a supportive smile as he rested a comforting hand on Azriel's knee, "I mean, you don't really think that it was easy for us did you?"

His words peaked Azriel's interest, the shadowsinger's pained expression morphing into one of surprised curiosity as he quirked a questioning brow at his brother, "Really? But I thought-"

"Come on Az, be serious. Do you think a day goes by where I truly believe I'm worthy of Feyre?" Rhysand asks, his wistful gaze moving down to the river where a beaming Feyre was teaching an excitable Nyx how to skip stones, "But that doesn't stop me from working my damn ass off every day to try and be the mate that she deserves."

"Yeah, just look at Nesta and I. We're far from perfect," Cassian commented, tears of joy lining the general's eyes upon seeing Nesta's glowing smile as she cheered their nephew on from the river's bank, "we fight like animals half of the time, admittedly it's mostly down to me saying things that I don't mean to say . . ."

As if sensing her mate's loving stare, Nesta's eyes moved to meet his own. The female sending a playful wink Cassian's way, earning a soft chuckle from the male, "but she always makes sure to tell me when I'm out of line, just as she expects me to do the same for her."

Azriel nodded in understanding, the self-placed shame he had once felt due to his lack of self-worth was now directed towards the fact he had never known what obstacles his brother's have had to overcome on their quest for happiness. Guilt swimming in the shadowsinger's eyes as he confessed, "I never knew you guys felt the same way."

Cassian smiled fondly at his brother, a strong arm moving to wrap around Azriel's shoulders as he gave the male a comforting squeeze, "Relationships aren't about one person being more deserving than the other Az, they're about balance . . . They're about loving someone so deeply that you want to make yourself a better person for them."

"You'll get there" Rhysand promised, his confident gaze working to uplift Azriel's spirit, "you just have to believe that you deserve happiness too."

"That sounds easier said than done" Azriel remarked flatly. And yet, despite his words, the shadowsinger was unable to hide the way in which his lips had started to twitch into a hopeful smile.

"It's not when you've found the person worth taking the risk for," Rhysand answered, his eyes shimmering with sincerity as he gestured towards you with his head, "And I think you've already got that bit covered."

A light blush dusted Azriel's cheeks, a timid laugh slipping from the male's lips as his adoring gaze turned back to you, "She is pretty great isn't she?"

"Pretty great?" Cassian asked with a snort, a teasing grin working its way onto the general's face, "Az if you don't ask her out soon, Nesta and I would be more than willing to steal her from you."

Azriel scowled at his brother, eyes narrowing as he opened his mouth to spit back a retort. Yet you beat him to it, the shadowsinger's words catching on the tip of his tongue as your soft voice called out to the group of males, "Are you guys just going to sit there gossiping all afternoon or are you going to come and join us?"

Cassian readily jumped to his feet, the male wasting no time in eagerly setting off in your direction. Lips pulled into a scheming smirk as he yelled back to you, "Be right over sunshi-"

Unable to finish his sentence, a strangled yelp fell from Cassian's mouth. The male clumsily tumbling to the ground as a rogue shadow slipped away from the general's ankle unnoticed. Azriel chuckling merrily as he passed the downed male with a grin, "Graceful as always, Cass."

~~~

Azriel had never seen a siren before. But here, sat on the bank as he watched you elegantly glide through the river as though it was second nature, the male was certain that your beauty - even in the water- was unmatched.

And just when Azriel thought you couldn't get any more radiant, he found himself enraptured by your celestial grace. His hazel eyes drawn to the delicate droplets of water which glistened on your plush lips thanks to the sun's amber rays.

You were beautiful, there was no doubt about that. Rhysand had picked the most beautiful spot on the continent for your outing today, and yet even the breathtaking scenery of the lush surroundings paled in comparison to you.

"Hey Az?" your gentle voice drew the male from his stupor, the lovesick fog in his affectionate gaze clearing just enough for Azriel to see your expectant eyes looking up at him from where you were swaying in the water, "Are you going to come in?"

Azriel's eyes grew wide at your question, cheeks burning red as the male searched for a suitable answer, "Oh, uh . . . you want me to -?"

A low groan of frustration sounded next to Azriel, an exasperated Rhysand roughly pushing the shadowsinger to stand as he whispered with a hiss, "Az, just get in the damn water."

Shrinking under the anticipatory stares of his family, Azriel swiftly removed his boots before awkwardly shuffling towards the river's edge. Cautious, he dipped a tentative toe into the flowing water before pulling back with an alarmed cry, wings curling in shock at the frigid temperature of the river, "I don't know if I ca-"

"Oh for cauldron's sake" Cassian huffed behind Azriel, a heavy hand falling onto the male's shoulder before he shoved the shadowsinger in.

Azriel had no time to react, a panicked shriek slipping from his lips as he forcefully crashed into the freezing water. Limbs flailing uselessly as he worked to make his way towards the surface, the shadowsinger's control slipping as the current worked against his feeble actions.

Relief was delivered in the form of your tender touch, your gentle hands moving to support the male as he gathered his wits and acclimated to the - somewhat - soothing chill of the river. Azriel's eyes blinking open only for him to be greeted by your warming smile looking back at him.

"Hi" you whispered, softly giggling at Azriel's uneasy expression. Eyes shining with adoration as you gently moved to wrap your arms around Azriel's shoulders in order to steady the fumbling male, "thank you for joining me."

"Hi" Azriel replied breathlessly, his cheeks still burning with a heated blush despite the cooling nature of the water which surrounded him. Noticing your close proximity, the shadowsinger gulped nervously. The male helpless in resisting his shadows control as they worked to pull his slightly trembling hands to rest against the curve of your waist.

Azriel now safe within your hold, the two of you happily bobbed along with the current. All thoughts of your watchful friends long forgotten as you allowed yourselves to become lost within the moment. Azriel's heart beating wildly as your ardent gaze never failed to leave his flustered face.

And it was here, tenderly wrapped within your comforting embrace, that Azriel allowed himself to wonder if Rhysand had been right all along about your supposed affections. The shadowsinger realizing that perhaps he needn't have worried about whether you would be able to love him - because maybe you already did.

"Hey sunshine!" Cassian's startling shout broke the silence which had comfortably settled between the pair of you, the general's voice filled with mischief as he teasingly called, "Az has something he wanted to ask you!"

Stunned, Azriel blanched at his words. A string of expletives falling from the shadowsinger's lips as he turned his anxious gaze towards you. The unsteady beating of his heart thundered in his ears at the daunting sound of your encouraging hum.

"Uh . . . um, I just wanted to . . ." Azriel's apprehensive gaze shifted towards his brother who was waiting on the bank with his head hung into the palm of his hand, panic building in his chest as the male found himself lost for words, "I was just wondering if you wanted . . . uh-"

"Yes Azriel," you beamed, softly nodding along to Azriel's garbled speech, "The answer is yes. I would love to go on a date with you."

Wasting no time, you sealed your lips against his own. Using the arms you had tightly wrapped around his shoulders to pull the flustered male closer towards you. Smiling into the kiss as Azriel's lips began to tentatively move against your own.

The shadowsinger clutched onto you as though you were his lifeline, fingers firmly pressed into your waist as he held you flush against him - lips chasing after yours as though he would surely drown without your sweetened kiss.

Yet the kiss was only fleeting, you having pulled away at the sound of your friend's ecstatic cheers. Azriel released a laugh of disbelief as you moved to rest your forehead against his own, your eyes bright and full of love as you breathlessly whispered, "Finally. I was wondering how long it would take you to ask me that."

"What?" Azriel asked in astonishment, his swollen lips parting in surprise, "You've been waiting for . . . me?"

"You're beautiful, Az" you exclaimed as though it was obvious, a soft gasp escaping from the male's lips at your words, "So unbelievably beautiful."

"But I- I'm . . ."

You hushed the male with a swift peck to his lips, "Just kiss me again, Az."

"With pleasure" Azriel answered with a smile, bringing his lips to meet your own.

[sayoneee]

☆ AND I KNOW IT’S OVER (STILL I CLING)

percy jackson, who never seems to know when to quit, keeps coming back. (2.9k)

contains: percy jackson x daughter of minor god! reader. post tlo (alt universe - everyone lives). book percy descriptions. apollo (derogatory).

kashaf’s note: book percy descriptions bc that was my first love. (sry if i get some of the words wrong, english isnt my first language pls be patient!!)

SUMMER BURNS. at camp half-blood, the scorching heat has dwindled to soft caresses, from the heat of the fire during sing-alongs where your cabin joins hands and toasts marshmallows to the cool breeze balming the sun’s glare at its zenith in the sprawling strawberry fields. at home, the scorching heat leaves marks — the biker with flames for pupils who clutched an openly bleeding wound as he thrust a first-aid kit at you, and the girl not much older than yourself with tears marring her face as she handed you a pregnancy test to ring up, avoiding your curious (sympathetic) gaze.

however, despite it all — you stand infallible, much like your grandfather’s part convenience store and part pharmacy, a poor man’s family heirloom.

you stand idly, flipping through an edition of seventeen when the rusty door swings open to admit a familiar face — with unruly black hair and an equally reckless grin (you know exactly who it is from the ba-dum of your heartbeat), the infamous son of poseidon (with the same smile as shawn hunter from boy meets world) is easily recognizable.

you glance at the crimson blooming around the crevices of his knuckles, tightly gripping a faded and worn-out skateboard, his scruffy converse squeaking across the tiled floor, raising an eyebrow as you coolly say, “band-aids are in the back, on the right.”

jackson laughs, an all-consuming sound (the wind-blown half-blood hill where apollo seemed to smile down at you, the laughter, like the memory, evanescent), “thanks, doc.”

you discreetly watch him perusing the aisles, before stopping in front of the ancient fridge — your grandfather’s store was something of an 80s pompeii with the peeling posters of back to the future and motley crue and the antiquated maroon and cream color scheme — and pulling out an arizona green tea.

when he finally goes to look for band-aids, you attempt to fix your attention back on the magazine in your hands, but like a moth driven to a flame, percy jackson was unbelievably hard to look away from (a magnet among mortals and immortals alike). 

jackson’s hands are on his hips, his tupac t-shirt creasing, thick brows furrowed as he decides between different types of candy with the same intensity as a single mother with two children and a nine-to-five (even in the mortal world, there is something else entirely about him, something that made it so that you could never truly write him off).

when he approaches the register again, it’s hard not to look up and watch his ascent. when he finally does come to a stop in front of you, he looks the same as he did the last summer, though the tiny silver trident earring is new, the camp beads resting peacefully atop his collarbones aren’t.

you ring up his items: a box of band-aids, the arizona green tea, and a pack of blue gummy sharks, looking away from him all the while.

“good to see ya, doc,” jackson says, a wry grin on his face, and his eyes are so green — as green as they were at twelve.

“it’s never good to see you, jackson,” you snark back, reciting his total, “four ninety-five, by the way.”

he laughs again (your heart goes ba-dum again), and hands you a five dollar bill, shoving his things into the seemingly bottomless pockets of his baggy jeans, with a salute on his way out (his turning back was a sight far more innocuous than the last time).

the next time jackson breaks whatever tacit agreement lies between the two of you, your hands are similarly stained. reds and purples line your palms, much like the burgundy seemingly permanently staining your grandmother’s fingertips; the culprit (the bowl of pomegranate seeds) sits innocently beside you. 

“back again?” you say, glancing at the familiar scarlet stains adorning jackson’s hands (a familiar blue friendship bracelet sits on his wrist, edges frayed with five years of wear, and there’s a lump in your throat). 

“why, did you miss me?” jackson asks, again with that wry grin of his, skateboard in hand. 

“you’re the one who came back,” you say, crossing your arms across your chest, willing the constricting feeling to disappear.

“doc, i’m sorry to have to be the one that has to break this to you,” he sighs sympathetically, putting a bleeding hand over his heart, “but the sun doesn’t revolve around you.”

“actually, jackson, the sun kind of does revolve around me, ‘cause y’know apollo, the sun god apollo? my grandpa apollo? my grandpa, the sun god, apollo?” 

“going by your logic, that would mean time revolves around me, ‘cause y’know kronos, the time titan kronos? my grandpa kronos? my grandpa, the time titan, kronos?” jackson says, a shit-eating grin on his face as he sets down another band-aid box, an arizona green tea, and a pack of blue gummy sharks on the counter.

“y’know, if you cared this much, you might’ve passed greek,” you say, referring to the progress report cards you were handed at the end of summer.

he shrugged, handing you another five dollar bill, and proceeding to shove everything into his black holes of jean pockets, “yeah, well — wait, are those pomegranates?”

“yeah,” you say, “i peeled them myself — do you want some?” 

(your father liked these, your grandmother had said earlier this afternoon, your mother liked to peel them for him, as i peeled them for her, and your grandfather.)

jackson suddenly looked bashful, fidgeting with the hem of his a tribe called quest t-shirt, “i’ve never had pomegranates before,” he confessed.

you blinked, taken aback, “you’re seventeen years old and you’ve never eaten a pomegranate before?” you pushed the china bowl toward him, “now you have to eat it.”

“my mom liked telling me the myths when i was younger,” he begins, setting down his skateboard, and reaching for the spoon before halting, like he was shocked, “she told me about persephone —”

“jackson,” you say, sardonically, leaning over the register to look him in the eye (there was always a storm brewing in his eyes), “i promise you, hades won’t come out of the ground and drag you to the underworld if you eat the pomegranate seeds i peeled.”

“i know what my next sleep paralysis demon is gonna be — thanks to you,” jackson says, looking down at the bowl and its floral blue pattern around the edges, playing with the spoon, and shifting the seeds from side to side.

“percy jackson, i swear to asclepius, you’re missing out on pomegranates,” you say, coming out from behind the register, and looking percy in the eye again, and there is something so earnest, so raw about your next sentence that his breath catches, “and, i swear on the styx, if hades does somehow come out of the ground to drag you down to the underworld, i’ll come down myself to drag you out, even if it’s tartarus.”

a rumble of thunder can be heard overhead despite the clear sky and scalding sun; percy blinks, before breaking out into a slow grin (your stomach seems to grow wings of its own, on the verge of flight.)

“invoking your dad, huh, doc? these pomegranates must be serious,” percy says, finally taking a bite — stepping around the bomb you just dropped.

you watch him intently, studying him as you studied tennyson and homer, “they are that serious.” there is something innocent about the way he eats, starved like every other teenage boy with black holes for stomachs. 

“y’know, i can put that into a tupperware container and you can take it with you, right?” you offer. 

“really?” percy asks through a mouthful of seeds, looking up from the bowl at you, “won’t you think i’ll steal it or something?”

“not really,” you shrugged, “i trust ms. jackson.”

percy nods solemnly — sally jackson is sally jackson after all, a queen among women, and an achilles of sorts, with her soft smile and steely eyes. 

steeling your nerves, this is already the longest conversation you’ve had (ignoring the forever-ago late-night debriefs under a firmament of stars), you step up to the plate and take a swing, “how is she, by the way, haven’t seen her in a while.”

percy swallowed, eyebrows furrowing, “great — oh, wait, did i tell you she was seeing someone new now?”

“no way, really? good for her, honestly. i know, poseidon’s a god and all, but like, she’s always deserved just, so much more.” (you manage to make contact with the change-up thrown your way.)

there is something so sincere about your words, that percy can’t help but grin back, finally reaching the depths of his sea-green eyes, and there is something still so boyish about him, that you can hardly believe any time has passed at all, and that somewhere within this demigod who successfully defeated kronos, while saving luke, there is still a semblance of your percy. 

“yeah, the guy, paul blofis, he’s an english teacher — absolutely worships the ground she walks on.”

“sounds perfect for her.”

“you should come over some time — see her, meet paul, y’know,” percy offers, still funneling spoonfuls of pomegranates, meeting your gaze head-on (this is the home run you were waiting on).

you grinned, a slow smile overtaking your face, pushing your hands in the pockets of your jeans, “might just take you up on that, before you change your mind.” (you’re leaving the ball in his hands now; it’s up to him to tag you out or let you reach home base safely.)

“nah, i won’t change my mind, unlike someone else i know.”

you ignore the jab (a smaller, suppressed part of you itches to shoot a reply back), instead choosing to focus on the hesitant hand of friendship being offered — as your father liked to say, keep moving forward.

you shrugged, and you swear, for a second you think the intensity of his gaze has lessened, almost as if disappointed. almost as if mentally shaking it off, percy hands you the china bowl back, empty, running a hand through his shaggy hair with a sheepish grin.

you smiled wryly, glancing down at the bowl and back to his face. “fatass,” you say, affectionately, and then almost freezing, wondering if you somehow overstepped the invisible lines constricting you. 

percy laughs — a green light. 

“lucky for you, though,” you say, disappearing behind the register for a moment before reappearing with a tupperware container filled with peeled pomegranates, “i peeled more.”

you hold it out to him, and he glances down at your outstretched hand, then at your face, before seemingly making up his mind, and accepting the olive branch, “you’re really committed to seeing my mom, huh?”

“well, obviously — the other alternative would be seeing you, wouldn’t it?”

“aw, c’mon, doc, i know you missed me,” percy says, a bit smug, picking up his skateboard, the tupperware container in his other hand (the one he still wears your bracelet on).

“in your dreams, jackson.” there is a peal of odd laughter in your voice as if you were unused to this kind of jocularity when fumbling over his name.

“in my dreams, we do more than just argue,” percy says, with one last smug smile and salute, before walking out the door, leaving you behind in the worst state of confusion you’ve possibly suffered (percy jackson: 1, you: 0).

(your grandmother admonishes you later that evening as you stand beside her stooped figure at your kitchen counter, peeling pomegranates, you gave the rest of it to that boy, didn’t you? her voice is not scolding, but you feel like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar once more. your immortal grandfather, the nuisance that he is, stands in the doorway, hands in an 80s leather jacket and matching sunglasses, waiting to be welcomed in. in contrast, his son — your father — brushes past him, grumbling, and takes on your grandmother’s burden.)

the analog clock reads ten fifty-five as you start mopping the floor, yawning when the front door swings open with a jingling bell, and a sharp metallic smell wafts into the store.

you whirl around, gripping the mop in your hand as a baseball bat, immediately alert as your demigod reflexes come into play. you physically relax at the sight of percy clutching his side, crimson pooling on the edges of his white t-shirt. 

“of course you would attack a man when he’s injured,” percy says with a grin, blood dripping from a gash over his eye (luke had returned to camp some years ago, with a similar scar), and a split lip, collecting like rust on his t-shirt collar. 

you scowled, dropping the mop and immediately rushing toward him, your healing instincts kicking in. lifting one of his arms and letting it curl around you, you shouldered him to the register, cringing with every audible wince percy let out.

“what the fuck is wrong with you?” you asked, as you sat him on your stool, reaching for the ambrosia and nectar you kept hidden under the counter for emergencies (one could never be too careful).

percy grinned — it came out more of a grimace, “what isn’t wrong with me — that’s the question you should be asking, doc.” he nodded to himself, and then immediately cringed at the action.

you glared at him, shoving an ambrosia square in his mouth, before turning away from him to put antiseptic on cotton pads. “does ms. jackson know you’re here?”

“no?” percy says. you walk over to the fridge, grab a water bottle, unscrew the cap, and drench the part of his t-shirt covered in blood.

“ow? in case you forgot, i’m still injured here, doc?” percy clutches at his side.

“you dumbfuck, your mom is probably worried out of her mind right now,” you say, scowling, stepping closer to percy (he still towers over you, even when sitting down).

“i iris messaged her,” he shrugs, looking at you as you shift even closer to him, cotton pad in your hand, “she just knows i’m with you — pretty relieved at that, dunno why.”

reaching out to grasp his jaw in your hand, you begin dabbing at the bruises on his cheekbones, his eyes fluttering shut as you try to ignore the way his hot breath is fanning across your face right now. “you didn’t tell her what happened?”

percy opened his eyes, staring at you. “no, how could i?” he says, slowly, “you were her favorite — still are, by the way.”

you don’t say anything for a moment — after all, how could you? (sally jackson’s homemade cookies drift to the front of your treacherous mind — the sunny afternoons with her kind voice, and percy’s loutish laughter.)

“you didn’t come to see her,” percy says, the statement not accusatory, his eyes fluttering shut again (you try not to let the way his eyelashes sit so prettily distract you) as you dab at the gash over his eye.

“i didn’t think i was welcome,” you say gruffly, turning away to grab bandages. “after everything.”

while the deeper wounds have eased into far easier, superficial ones, you still make sure to wrap and bandage everything — percy had a penchant for getting into trouble (one that you knew all too well), so it was the least you could do.

“i just told you that you were welcome, last time i was here, didn’t i?” percy says, an accusation.

“yeah, well, it was hardly an invitation was it?” you say, turning away from him, packing your supplies up. 

“doc, you didn’t even come to take your tupperware back.”

you ignore him, moving to walk away when his hand is enclosed around your wrist (the hand that wears your blue friendship bracelet), tugging you around to face him. 

percy’s standing up now, his green eyes looking more like a swirling storm with each passing second — he still hasn’t let your wrist go.

“what do you want from me?” you ask, trying to snatch your hand back from him, to no avail — his grip is ironclad.

“i can’t let you walk away with your back turned to me again,” he says (the dim, lantern-lit night comes back into focus, and you wonder if you were too consumed by your own pride, if you had just turned around, if you had just stayed).

you realize too late that tears are pricking in the corners of your eyes, and you manage to successfully wrench your hand out of his grasp, a watery, sarcastic laugh escaping, “you’re a couple years too late, asshole.”

“i know that,” percy says, earnest, reaching out to cup your cheek, and wipe a stray tear (the action stuns you into paralysis), “but i miss you, and my mom misses you, and she hasn’t gotten off my case about you, yet.”

the thought of tender-hearted sally jackson scolding percy is an amusing one, and draws a laugh out of you against your will (percy’s smile grows a little brighter, and asclepius knows you’ve never been able to resist that smile of his), “i’ll come over for ms. jackson, not you.”

percy’s smile is even wider now (his hand is still ghosting your cheek), “same thing.”

“shut up,” you say swatting at his shoulder, trying to duck out from under his arms. 

percy avoids your attempts to escape him, instead latching onto your hand, and pulling you out of the store. “c’mon, she’s expecting us for dinner.”

you let out an incredulous laugh, and let yourself be dragged out anyway (you would follow this boy anywhere, even to the depths of tartarus). 

(your grandmother watches from the apartment window above the store, a soft smile gracing her lined features.)

[livwritessometimes]

Opposite - Pierre Gasly

: Pierre Gasly x Singer!reader

: Pierre’s new relationship leaves Y/n questioning their time together

: Series Masterlist

: Main Masterlist

: Author's Note - finallyyyy got time to write this part!! Also let me know if you guys want a taglist for I'm Pretty When I Cry Series (I have a few people who want to be tagged in Pt 2 for loml and Enough For You)

…

liked by pierregasly and 84,946 others

👤: pierregasly

Yourname: "Hey dan- I mean Bonjour" "Oh you mean, Au Revoir! Goodbye Humphrey, we're leaving" "where are you guys going?" "Paris"

view all 78,732 comments

pierregasly: It absolutely did not take Y/n 30 minutes to find this particular episode from gossip girls, just so she could use it as her caption

-> Yourname: Uh as if! guys let me tell you Pierre was just as invested as I was, if not more while watching the episode

-> pierregasly: shhh don't expose me 🤐

liked by Yourname and 102,721 others

👤: Yourname

pierregasly: Terrorizing the streets of New York with the biggest baddie who wears a bow!

view all 92,682 comments

Yourname: say all you want about the bow, just know when we get caught and they take our mugshots, we know who's gonna look good and who's not 💅🏻

-> alpinef1team: Please don't get arrested, we can't have our driver behind the bars before the season starts 😅

-> pierregasly: ...🥲

User39: Y/n and Pierre try to write normal caption challenge failed 🙅🏻‍♀️

-> User44: I love them constantly bullying each other 🥰

liked by pierregasly and 92,731 others

👤: pierregasly

Yourname: Rolling into the Dutch Grand Prix in style!

view all 89,727 comments

pierregasly: 🩵

User77: OMGGGG P33333!!! Let's goooooo

User98: Best good luck charm Pierre could ask for 🍀

*liked by Yourname*

liked by Yourname and 106,931 others

👤: Yourname, alpinef1team

pierregasly: You get P3 and then all of a sudden you are tackled to the ground by some crazy fangirl 🙄 but jokes aside I could not have done this without your support, a huge shoutout to my amazing team and equally (if not more) amazing fans!!!

view all 87,673 comments

alpinef1team: YESSSS! So Proud 💪🏻

alpinef1team: Best crazy fangirl to have around in the garage

-> Yourname: ...stop 🙈

liked by pierregasly and 98,673 others

👤 : pierregasly

Yourname: Happy birthday to the weird guy from my flight who likes to sleep with his mouth open...He's quite the character!

view all 80,721 comments

pierregasly: I can feel the love radiating from this post 🤭

-> Yourname: Guys that weird guy from my flight is back and now in my comment section

-> pierregasly: Jokes on you I'm inside your house

-> Yourname: 😨

User41: You guys are so cuteeeee! never stop bullying each other 🫶🏻

liked by Yourname and 95,731 others

👤: Yourname

pierregasly: Happy birthday to my crazy fangirl!! Here's to more years of bullying you 🥂

view all 86,821 comments

Yourname: Aa Ha there we have it folks, he just admitted he bullies me! My lawyer will get in touch with you Mr. Gasly and just so you know I'm getting the custody of @/alpinef1team 's admin

-> alpinef1team: Mom pick me up I'm scared, Dad is binge watching Gossip Girls again!!

-> pierregasly: wow! my own team i against me

-> alpinef1team: 🤭

User09: I will never get married if they break up

-> User712: Girl- same 🫱🏻‍🫲🏼

Y/n paused for a moment. The 10 minutes she had spent selecting every single photo she had with Pierre felt like eternity to her. So lost in her thought, she did not notice a drop tear roll down her face. It is funny how things can change so easily; how a lifetime worth of promises comes with an expiration date. "You will heal; I mean, look at how far you've come from where we were before," said Gracie, Y/n's best friend and probably the only person she had told about her breakup. For the rest of the world, Y/n and Pierre, 'the most playful couple', were still together, spending their vacation in some city filled with love and laughter.

It was Gracie who suggested that it's bout time she deleted their photos. I mean, it has been 2 months already; there is no point in holding on to something, someone who no longer wants to do anything with her.

She knew she would be fine. I mean, isn't that's how it's supposed to go? You hurt, you heal. It was simple, so why was it that hitting the delete button felt like the most difficult task in the world? Swallowing the lump in her throat, Y/n finally pressed the button, which in an instant erased the French man's existence from her life. Goodbyes are hard, especially when you did not see them coming. Y/n never dreamt of a future where she and Pierre wouldn't be together; sadly for her, that was the reality she now had to live in.

francisca.cgomes added to their story!

seen by Yourname and 65,821 others

Sitting in front of her dresser, Y/n was busy getting ready for the night. She saw the news about Pierre seeing someone else flood her Twitter feed. It's okay; it's not like he owed her an explanation or the fact that they broke up 4 months ago. It's perfectly fine for people to go out and explore the dating pool again. Hell, even Y/n had been on a few dates, none that got past the second date. What bothered her was the fact that Pierre was seen with his new girl in Paris. She still distinctively remembers one warm afternoon in July, where both she and Pierre were cuddled up on the couch watching some random movie to kill time. It was then that he told her, "I'm so excited for next week," he had said as he pulled Y/n closer to him. "And why is that?" she had questioned with a hint of amusement in her voice. "Paris holds a very special place in my heart, and a long time ago I decided that I would only take the people closest to my heart there," he said. "And you are very special to me, ma chérie," he added. It was always like this: cheeky comments and flirtatious replies were what made their relationship theirs. 

So seeing him take Francisca Gomes to Paris felt like a direct hit. Here she was barely able to hold onto a new date, and there he was going to the city of love with his 'special person.'

Y/n had just finished applying a sheet mask and decided to watch some videos on YouTube while waiting for her timer to go off. Scrolling through the home page, her eyes landed on an interview with none other than Francisca or Kika, as everyone on the internet had called her. "Kika Gomes on Balancing Life as a Model, a Student, and the Girlfriend of Pierre Gasly" read the title. She knows she shouldn't; she knows that no positive outcome will come from this video, but ignoring all the warning signs, Y/n clicked on the video. Her room was filled with the voice of Kika and the interviewer. Sometime after the introduction and general questions, Y/n stopped paying attention to what was being said in the interview. That was until she heard the interviewer ask Kika about her and Pierre's relationship.

On that reply, Y/n let out a dry chuckle. 'When you know, you just know' how basic. Of course she would think that; why would she mind them moving in 'too fast'? She's got nothing to lose. It was Y/n that had to suffer over them 'moving in too fast.' But no one paid attention to that, because she was not the one he was in love with, not anymore, at least.

Sometime later in the interview, the host asked Kika to play a game, answer a few questions, and take part in a challenge. After about 5-6 questions, the host announced the challenge: 'Get Pierre to text you back in 2 minutes; if she fails, she has to perform a dare.' With a scoff, Y/n said, "Good luck with that." She knows there is no way Pierre would reply within 2 minutes; he never did that during the entirety of their 2 years together, and there is no way he's gonna do it now. She saw Kika type a message to Pierre before hitting send and answering yet another question. It had barely been 30 seconds; the girl on the screen barely finished her sentence when the ding from her notification filled the studio. Y/n felt her heart drop; there was no way it was him; he had never been so quick before. Ya, Y/n was sure it was not him, but then what Kika said made her doubt a lot of things about her relationship with Pierre.

That reply was quick; that's what bothered Y/n. No, scratch that; that was one of the things that bothered Y/n about this new relationship. The girl in front of her could not have been more different from Y/n. She was taller than her, younger than her, and a lot prettier than her. They could not have been more opposite of each other. It made Y/n question whether she was even Pierre's type all along. Was that the reason why he broke up with her? because she was not like the usual girls he would go for? because she did not fit his standard of beauty? Before Y/n could spiral down any further, her phone started ringing, startling her and cutting off her long chain of thought. Looking down, she saw that it was her manager who was calling her. She looked at the top of the screen to check the time: 11:24 p.m. It was odd for her manager to call her at this hour. Confused,  she answered the phone, "Hello?"

liked by gracieabrams and 120,371 others

👤 : gracieabrams, taylorswift

Yourname: Word on the street that two best friends are on their way to traumatize a whole lot of people at the ERAS TOUR!!!! YES you heard it right, my boy Mario and I are officially joining the wonderful, absolutely stunning Taylor Swift at the Eras Tour.

view all 100,282 comments

gracieabrams: AHHHHHHHHH

-> gracieabrams: OH MY GODDDDDDDD

-> gracieabrams: I HAVEN'T STOPPED CRYING

-> gracieabrams: I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE THIS

User66: @/taylorswift I think you broke Gracie

gracieabrams: WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY MARIO?? Where did you get that photo from????

-> Yourname: I have my own ways 😌

liked by gracieabrams and 99,722 others

Yourname: Best believe I'm still bejeweled, when I walk in the room....Yk how that saying goes ✨

view all 90,801 comments

Yourname: Also for everyone wondering where I got that cowboy hat from? I made it with TAYLOR SWIFT 🙌🏻

-> User83: Please tell me you have matching COWBOY HATS????

-> Yourname: You bet your ass we do 👏🏻

gracieabrams: Well ofc a diamond's gotta SHINEE~

-> Yourname: see Gracie gets it!!

taylorswift: Howdy partner <3

-> Yourname: I see you everyday yet when I saw the notification that you commented, I almost called my mom out of excitement!!!!

*liked by taylorswift*

-> taylorswift: 😂

liked by Yourname and 173,982 others

👤 : Yourname, taylorswift

gracieabrams: Oh nothing just a girls night in with my 2 besties 👯‍♀️

view all 120,282 comments

Yourname: I'm just gonna go ahead and say it I'm the best bartender out there!

-> gracieabrams: I was gonna say something sarcastic but I don't think my 7th glass of Margarita would let me 🫢

User87: Alt caption: Taylor Swift getting traumatized for 15 minutes straight from witnessing Y/n and Gracie fighting with each other every second of the day

*liked by taylorswift*

After one too many drinks, Y/n, Gracie, and Taylor were all chilling at the rental Y/n and Gracie were sharing. The night was filled with drinks and laughter. With soft music playing in the background, Y/n looked around at Gracie and Taylor, both texting their boyfriends, giggling over their phones. A content look on their faces. Even though Y/n smiled at the sight, a bitter taste filled her mouth. Excusing herself, she went to the bathroom. After being together with someone for 2 years, it's easy to forget what it's like to be single again. It's been 6 months now since they broke up. Y/n knows she shouldn't miss him, because it was obvious that he clearly wasn't missing her. Looking in the mirror, she saw her blonde hair and blue eyes staring back at her. She wondered was it her eyes? Did he just want someone who had darker eyes all along? Y/n knew Kika's features so well, that one might think of her as an obsessive fan, and maybe she was. Definitely not a fan though. Maybe she was obsessed with Kika; what was it that she has that Y/n doesn't? Way beyond her senses, Y/n, in her drunken state, pulled out her phone and opened Instagram to post a story of herself.

Yourname added to their story!

seen by User40 and 65,821 others

liked by User22 and 101,282 others

👤: pierregasly, francisca.cgomes

Formula1WagsUpdates: Pierre Gasly's partner, Kika Gomes, was spotted at the Miami Grand Prix. The couple were seen entering the paddock together. Some fans spotted the two being extremely affectionate, with Pierre's hand never leaving her back. Ever since the couple started dating, fans have noticed a change in Gasly's demeanor. Some say he has become more of a gentleman ever since Gomes entered his life. All we can say is that we love every moment we can get with the adorable couple.

view all 65,029 comments

User22: They are so cuteeeeee

User09: I'm not gonna lie Pierre has STEPPED UP as a boyfriend!!!

User87: I think it's kinda sad that they refer to Kika as Pierre Gasly's girlfriend and not just by her name. Honestly feel they would have never done that had it been Y/n here.

-> User60: I mean she is his girlfriend! how else should anyone introduce her????

liked by gracieabrams and 99,722 others

Yourname: Red is the color of the season! and no it's not because of my recent obsession with strawberry jam 🍓

view all 90,801 comments

gracieabrams: A lot of nonsense coming from someone who just finished their third bottle of jam this month

-> Yourname: Shhhhh don't say that out loud my trainer might hear you

taylorswift: The treats turned out to be soo goodddd!!

-> Yourname: I did have the best baking partner after all!!

User44: ummm is no one gonna talk about the last photo???

liked by charles_leclerc and 299,722 others

pierregasly and francisca.cgomes: The best new beggenings anyone could wish for!! Meet our baby boy Simba 🦁

view all 230,873 comments

francisca.cgomes: My son 🩵

-> pierregasly: you mean our son???

-> francisca.cgomes: NO MINE

alexandrasaintmleux: Leo and Simba playdate when???

-> francisca.cgomes: Just say the time and place and we'll be there

User88: OMGGG THEY GOT A DOGGGG

-> User30: Ikrrrrrrr!!! he really is ready to settle down 🥰

What are you supposed to feel when your ex moves on with his life? How should one even react when they see him show more commitment to his current relationship than he did to yours? Y/n wondered, What was even the point of feeling like this? I mean, shouldn't she be happy? She has got everything she could have asked for: a job with her idol, performing night after night in front of people who love her and her music, and spending every second of her life with her best friend by her side. Y/n had everything, but somehow she still felt empty. 

He got a dog with her. Y/n still remembers the day when she suggested they get a pet together. "Come on, Pierre, look at this puppy; he's perfect!!!," Y/n had beamed while showing Pierre a photo of the dog she had seen at the shelter. "He is cute, but you know we can't get a pet," Pierre had said. "We're not even home most of the time, and the constant travelling won't help the dog," he had reasoned. Dejected, she sat back down on the couch, opting to delete the photo. What's the point of keeping it when she knows she will never be able to adopt the puppy?

liked by gracieabrams and 102,882 others

Yourname: Been thinkin' lots of thoughts 💭

view all 93,702 comments

gracieabrams: hmmm how tho? because last I know i'm pretty sure it's empty up there, like spider webs and shit 😌

-> Yourname: I had ordered Taco Bell for us but looks like you won't be needed it anymore 🙃

-> gracieabrams: Y/N NOOO! I swear I was just kidding 😭

-> User09: Not a single day goes by without us getting Gracie and Y/n acting like kids 🤦🏻‍♀️

User33: Did she just...post lyrics?????????? and that angsty ones?????

-> User86: Shhhhhh!! It can't hurt you if you refuse to acknowledge it

It was finally done. Y/n had just finished her album. She's not gonna lie; this album was probably the most difficult one to record. Especially the last song she recorded. After pushing it back for months, she finally did it. She got in the recording room and poured her little heart out. What surprised Y/n were the tears that came while she recorded the song. It's not like she was in love with him, not anymore, at least. Y/n had finally accepted the fact that no matter how much she questioned the reason for Pierre leaving her and choosing Kika, she could not come up with an answer that would have given her some closure. She had gone through every possible scenario in her head; what could she have done differently to make him stay? But while doing all this thinking, Y/n realized that no matter what she did, he would have ended up with her. Maybe he was holding out, waiting to find someone opposite her, someone who fit his description of "perfect," a match "made in heaven." 

It was time she let go of this chapter, no matter how much it hurt her, it was time to say goodbye to all the possibilities of them.

liked by gracieabrams and 172,874 others

Yourname: I'm so excited to announce my brand new album, 'Emails I Can't Send'! This album contains exactly what the title says. There will be a lot of times in life where you find yourself in a situation where you want to say things or question things, but you can't because that's just how things have to be. This album contains all the things I wish I could have said. I hope you enjoy the little piece of my heart that I'm sharing with you! Keep it safe <3

view all 111,621 comments

gracieabrams: I am so proud of you!!!! words can't describe how proud I feel right now 🫂

*liked by Yourname*

taylorswift: I have been to the studio...and let's just say you guys are in for a ride!! 🎢

*liked by Yourname*

User97: DID YOU GUYS PLAY OPPOSITE BECAUSE AHHHHHH

…

Tags: @slutforpopculture | @emmynotawards | @be-your-coffee-pot | @bloodredlolipops | @papaya-twinks | @a-beaverhausen | @rayaharper

[lilasamaaa]

Who says "I love you" first? Part Two | F1 grid x Reader

Click here to read the first part!

Genre | Fluff

Featuring | Oscar Piastri, Daniel Ricciardo, George Russell, Carlos Sainz, Yuki Tsunoda, Max Verstappen.

Word count | 1.8K

Warnings | None! Enjoy the ride!

Author's note | Coming up with original ideas for this was so painful lmao, I'm sorry it took so long!

Oscar Piastri

He says it first.

Today marks four months since you and Oscar have been together. The Australian texted you a few hours ago, telling you to wear a nice dress and meet him in front of your building at 8.

The two of you had met four months ago at a party hosted by a mutual friend. You had heard of love at first sight, but had never experienced it before him. Before your eyes met his. As you had moved to Australia a few weeks before meeting him, and with English not being your first language, it had taken a bit of time to get comfortable with each other and juggle between your respective languages, but today, you two were inseparable... To the point where you'd already canceled the plane ticket that was supposed to take you back home at the end of the year.

The restaurant where you're dining is splendid. The candles on your table cast a soft light on his face, the atmosphere is incredibly romantic, and the dishes are delicious. But above all, it's the looks Oscar has been giving you all evening that make your heart beat. A mixture of tenderness, passion, and admiration.

"I hope you don't mind, but I ordered dessert," your boyfriend announces, looking at you fondly.

As soon as the sentence is uttered, a waiter places a plate in front of you, and you let out a gasp of surprise as you discover the letters traced in chocolate. "I love you". In your native tongue. Your eyes start to water as you meet Oscar's gaze, visibly nervous. For a minute, you're speechless. Equally surprised by the kind attention than by the admission from the Australian.

"Please tell me they spelled it right," the driver says as you burst into laughter.

"They did," you reply, reaching for his hand. "And I don't have any dessert to prove it, but just so you know, I love you too."

Daniel Ricciardo

He says it first.

Daniel and you are lying on the couch in his living room, watching a replay of last weekend's race on TV. You love it when your boyfriend comments on every move, explains the strategies, and tells you about his feelings in the car. Even though you attended the race live in Singapore, it's definitely different to look back at the race with the insight of a real pilot. As Daniel explains to you the choice of his medium tires, the image from the replay suddenly changes from the track and zooms in on you, wearing a headset, in the garage.

"What?" you yelp, standing up on your elbows. "I didn't know they were filming me!"

Under your face, a small banner appears, and you feel your heart tighten. "Daniel Ricciardo's friend".

"Oh," you breathe, unable to tear your gaze away from the tv screen.

"Wow," Daniel says. "So they really have no idea that we're together."

The camera dives back onto the track, and Daniel starts commenting on every moment again, before realizing that you've been silent for a while.

"Hey," your boyfriend says, nudging your shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, it's just..." you start, feeling your throat tighten. "We've been dating for a few months now, and it's... It's weird to be called your friend. I don't know. It's making me feel insecure."

"Well, you shouldn't," the Australian says before capturing your lips in a soft kiss. "Because I love you. Way more than a friend."

George Russell

You say it first.

At work, George is methodical. Organized. At home, however, you've come to learn that your boyfriend is a real scatterbrain and forgets everything. All the time. To the point that since you started seeing each other more regularly and you began sleeping over at his place, you've gotten into the habit of leaving notes for him all over the apartment before going to work.

"Your brother is coming over tonight"

"DO NOT order food. There are leftovers in the fridge!"

"Your fave sweater is in the dryer"

Each note is always signed the same way. A double x (you two live in England, after all) and a smiley face. If you're the one writing the small notes, George is the one collecting them and throwing them away everyday. So tonight, as you close the door to his apartment behind you, you're surprised to find your boyfriend on the couch, holding one of the bright yellow squares in his hand.

"Hi babe," you say, coming closer to him. "What's this?"

"Your note," George replies, looking at you. "From this morning."

"What about it?" you ask, furrowing your brow as George hands it to you.

"Don't wait for me for dinner tonight, I'm going out with the girls. Love you."

Oh. You're still looking at the note with wide eyes when your boyfriend speaks again.

"Did you mean it?"

"I'm... kinda surprised I wrote it, but yes, of course, George. I mean it."

Your boyfriend gets up from the couch, coming towards you before planting his lips passionately on yours.

"Well, I love you too," George says, making your heart skip a beat. "And I'm keeping this one," your boyfriend laughs before pocketing the note.

Carlos Sainz

He says it first.

Carlos and you have made it a habit to call each other as much as possible when the driver is away. The distance is already hard enough to manage for the both of you as it is, so there's no need to torture yourselves even more with radio silence. Sitting in the hotel lobby, the only place where he managed to get enough network for a high-quality call, your boyfriend is telling you all about this morning's free practice session when the phone shakes, and you see his eyes hovering above the screen.

"Wait, hermosa, just a second."

The microphone cuts out, and you see your boyfriend's lips moving without sound. You furrow your brow, thinking that someone from the hotel staff might be scolding him for speaking aloud in a public area, when Charles appears in the corner of the screen, the sound coming back.

"Charles wants to say hi," Carlos says, playfully rolling his eyes. "Please find a girlfriend and stop annoying mine."

"How are you?" Charles asks, smiling at you, ignoring Carlos' whines.

"I'm doing great, thanks for asking!" you reply, smiling back at the driver.

"Now, move," Carlos says, "I'd rather talk to her than to you. You'll understand that when you're in love again."

A laughing Charles waves at you a final time before disappearing from your screen. Your attention shifts back to Carlos.

"So..." you say playfully. "You're in love?"

Realizing the slip-up, Carlos' eyes widen.

"I didn't mean to say it like that. Or over the phone. But yes, I am," your boyfriend says, smiling proudly.

"Good thing I am too, then," you reply winking.

Yuki Tsunoda

You say it first.

Yuki is naturally shy. You noticed it from your first meeting, and you've never been afraid to take the lead. You've been the initiator of all your firsts : first conversation, first date, first kiss. This dynamic works well for both of you. You suggest, and Yuki always happily follows.

However... there's something you've been afraid of initiating. It's been several months since you started seeing each other, and you're truly on cloud nine. Everything is going well between you, the chemistry is perfect, and the slightest glance from the Japanese makes you absolutely melt. You know the signs. You're in love. But how do you tell him without scaring him off?

The answer comes naturally as you watch your boyfriend exchange words with his Team Principal in the Racing Bulls garage, his helmet in his hands. As Yuki finishes zipping up his suit, his back to you, you kindly offer to hold his helmet and take the opportunity to pull out a marker from your pocket, discreetly scribbling on the plastic shell before handing the object to your boyfriend.

The race goes incredibly well, and Yuki finishes in the points, creating euphoria in the garage. When your boyfriend gets out of the car, his first instinct is to take off his helmet and steal a kiss from you as you laugh.

"What's making you laugh?" Yuki asks, looking at you fondly.

"I put a little encouragement on your helmet, and it looks like it worked," you whisper, pointing to the three hastily written words. I love you.

Yuki is naturally shy, yes. Yet, the kiss he gives you after your revelation is the only confirmation you needed.

Max Verstappen

He says it first.

It's been ten days since Max flew several hours away from you for his next race, suggesting you stay at his place until his return. The initial idea was for you to look after his cats, but the driver would never admit that what he wanted above all else was for you to put your intoxicating scent all over his sheets... Creating a sense of domesticity that he wasn't so sure you were ready for yet.

Keys turn in the lock, and Max appears at the end of the hallway, suitcase in hand. It's safe to say that he didn't expect to find you curled up on the couch, asleep, his two cats nestled in your arms.

The sight is enough to make him want to call your landlord and tell them you' won't be needing your apartment anymore. To give you the keys to his place, and never take them back. But for now, abandoning his suitcase in the hallway, Max sits on the couch gently, making sure not to wake you before softly stroking your hair. You whine softly in your sleep, opening an eye.

"You're back," you mumble weakly.

"I am, and it looks like nobody missed me that much," Max says, pretending to be hurt.

"What?" you say, sitting up. "I missed you! Every day!"

"And yet, you wasted no time replacing me," your boyfriend laughs, petting his sleepy cats.

"I had to adapt," you reply with a smirk. "They confessed before you. There was nothing I could do."

"Do you want me to confess?" Max says, bending over to press a soft kiss to your lips, making your heart flutter. "You have my love. All of it."

[paddockbunny]

Fraternisation Clause

Summary : Working for McLaren is hard, being Lando’s PR girl is even harder….so maybe you need to make a tough decision that will be even harder yet Rating : 16+ Pairing: Lando x Reader Word Count : 1474 words Trigger Warnings : language but clean Images : curated from Pintrest Authors Note : there are probably a few bits in here that aren’t exactly how things are in the actual paddock / McLaren hierarchy so just ignore it and take it for the work of fiction it is ☺️

Abu Dhabi ‘23

It was time to go. You knew that. Everything you could accomplish in your role, you had. The opportunity being offered to you was too great to pass up and if you were honest the move truly excited (and somewhat scared) you. But, it was a step up the ladder and it was a ladder that you really wanted to climb. As you swiped your credentials on the paddock barriers you saw your colleagues and friends awaiting you. Leaving them all behind was exceptionally tough as really, you had all become a little family. You enjoyed pizza nights, drunken karaoke, practical jokes and laughter and tears with them during your four year tenure. As they looked at you with a mixture of smiles and pouting lips it really hit you how tough it was to be leaving and even worse how you wouldn’t be a part of the gang anymore. For twenty four weeks of the year you guys were going to be in the exact same place and yet not be as close anymore. It was such a bittersweet feeling. But, you remembered as some of your new team mates walked past in their crisp white shirts, when Mercedes come a calling, you answer the call.

The night sky was illuminated by an array of bright explosions of colour as fireworks crescendoed overhead. You were already down awaiting Lando to begin media duties so couldn’t really engage in the end of session celebrations like you would have liked. But still it was nice to imagine the pretty illuminations overhead were all for you.

As you waited for Lando to be weighed and take his helmet and balaclava off you couldn’t help but smile. He finished P5 and P7 in the overall standings. An excellent effort and he could be extremely proud he equalled himself for the previous 22 season - considering how tough the car had been, it was fantastic. It had been a long, sometimes stressful, crazy ride being Lando Norris’ PR officer but you would be lying if you said you hadn’t enjoyed every single last millisecond of it. At the start you had an immature, slightly naive guy who matured into a funny, charismatic, caring man. You smirked knowing it couldn’t have been easy for him working with you at the start either. You weren’t as regimented as you had become and he was often late, missing caps or passes, he even got fined for being late to the national anthem ceremony once because you forgot to fetch him, but you were fresh out of university and learning right along side him. It was a baptism of fire and you loved it. And honestly, you couldn’t have imagined anyone else being your F1 virginity stealer.

However, as you waited for him and reminisced you felt overcome by a horrible sadness. See you thought Lando would have been happy for you to move on and be promoted - go on to bigger better things - but he wasn’t. After accepting Mercedes offer and putting in your formal notice, Lando was the first person you told and boy, it did go well. He immedietly told you you were doing the wrong thing and joining Mercedes wasn’t the right move. He passionately attempted to deter you from moving and even got angry when you tried to calm him down. You had never before seen Lando upset like what he was that night - sure during a race or whatnot but that was because he was competitive - So it was totally unexpected. He asked if it were the pay making you leave and even offered to pay you more from his own wages (which insulted you). He asked if you were being forced out, if something had happened with another member of the team (which it hadn’t). Then he asked if it was because you didn’t want to work with him anymore and it caught somewhere in your throat.

If this had been ‘22 you would haven’t hesitated to laugh at the insinuation and make a quip about him being cocksure of himself. But it wasn’t. It was the end of 2023 and you knew yourself things had shifted between the pair of you. In the past 12 months Lando and you had come close to blurring the professional lines and you were able to realise how dangerous that truly was. Nothing had ever happened that could have been considered inappropriate but you couldn’t be one hundred percent you didn’t want it too. And that was what scared you. McLaren had an employee fraternisation clause which clearly stated that employees could not carry out romantic or sexual relationships between other employees particularly those where one employee is in a higher up position. And it didn’t take the brain of Britain to know Lando was their “star” and you were just another foot soldier. There was no way they would keep you over their superstar driver. And besides, it was known amongst the PR team that Lando had a little thing for you as way back as 2020 when you first started working with him but you had always laughed it off, rolled you eyes and played it down.

“He’s just a kid, don’t be daft” you would be heard quipping back. But for some reason, after the prior year, you spend the season pretending you didn’t know he was staring at you, that he was making you laugh on purpose, that he was finding any reason to touch you, be close to you and even invite you to things without anyone else from the team being there. You knew it would only be a matter of time before Lando would try to move things in a different direction - in particular, you knew he would do something stupid like try and kiss you and you would do something even more stupid and kiss him back.

So you walked away. You took the call and accepted the Mercedes offer of becoming a PR Manager (instead of PR officer). You had thought about it at length, toiled over it. And while you knew he might not understand why, you thought he would still be happy for you. You hadn’t expected the attitude he had shown to you over the course of the past three races. The silence, the grunting for responses, not even looking at you as you were talking to him.

You looked up to find him almost in front of you as the fireworks continued overhead. He held out his hand for his water bottle and little bag full of promotional bracelets and watch. “Well done, it’s been a good year.” You tried to tell him but he either didn’t hear you from the loud bangs and the start of the podium celebrations or he was deliberately ignoring you. You swallowed, wishing this was all different. You really could do with a Lando hug right now but as you started off toward the media pen, neither of you said a word to each other. And then after media he announced he had a plane waiting so he wouldn’t be hanging around. You wanted to remind him you were leaving and it was your last day so it would mean a lot if he could hang around for just 10 minutes but before you could muster up the courage to do it, he ducked into his drivers room while you were busy on a call and that was it. You looked for him to say goodbye (at bare minimum) and wish him a happy holidays but he was gone. He didn’t care. He didn’t even want to be your friend anymore.

Things were being wrapped up. Everyone was excited to get going. People wanted to party, celebrate the end of another year. They wanted to call their families and say they would be home soon and make plans for their time off. So when you walked into the McLaren hospitality suite to a riotous round of applause and hollering you were left a gasp and the tears started flowing. You hadn’t expected anyone outside of your small little trackside PR team to care you were off, but that was downright idiotic to think they would let you slink off. That wasn’t McLarens style. But still you didn’t expect all the hullabaloo. The room was packed with different people across each discipline. The mechanics you knew were there, the strat guys, chefs from the kitchens, office folk and even Zak was standing front and centre. So many people across the whole garage came to say goodbye. There was a cake and a “Bon voyage” banner. Your smile erupted across your face as your friends came rushing toward you to engulf you in a huge hug. The earlier sadness due to your strained friendship with Lando was pushed straight to the back of your mind. Right now, you felt special. You felt loved.

You couldn’t help but wish Lando was here too. You wished he had stayed to say goodbye.

[violestars]

𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙄 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙢

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: Sunday x male reader

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: childhood friends to best friends to nothing au, where rejecting your confession is worth more than the pain of infecting your perfect image with his sinful existence.

𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: not proof read, !!only male readers!!

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: yandere-ish?,maybe ooc, mention of religion, implied homophobia, angst no comfort, just depressing.

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨: part 1, part 2

Your childhood friend is a rather confusing fellow, to the point where one would think his significant other, if he ever has one, is the type to do riddles for fun. You also love riddles but moreover, you love him. Can anyone blame you? You were consumed by these feelings in your undeveloped mind. Seven was the age you fell for Sunday, for the charming boy that is your childhood friend. Maybe it was just some puppy love between two foolish kids but no one can explain the bubbling excitement in your stomach whenever a barely visible pout was drawn on his face, whenever he uses sugar coated words to kindly ask others to leave you two alone or how his clinginess to you was shown so slyly. You were an equal to Sunday and it has left a sweet taste on your tongue till this day.

As you grow older, your mind started to question this fondness for him. You were taught love doesn't need any explanation but you aren't dumb, there are always reasons behind everything. Even the unknown comfort, warmness one could find in another is also a reason. You knew that because you have experienced it with Sunday but that wasn't your concern, for now at least. Deep down you knew this love for the other male wasn't merely a mystery, your relationship did not belong in those cheap romcoms you two would binge on a sunday night. Was it more evident on the day you went crying to him about your religious mother? Was it because of the warm hands that traced your cheeks, causing you to lean into such softness as he teased you with a coo? How you wished he could repeat his supposedly sin against his perfectionist family's belief was the attraction to the same gender, how the boyish smirk once he admitted how good rebellion feels.

School isn't your strongest suit and you beat yourself up for that, it also didn't help knowing your insecurity enabled the hatred from others. From family to friends, even strangers, their greatest gift to you was just pitiful stares. Sunday was different though, the soft smile that never fails to comfort you, the warm embrace of the only friend you can lean on, he was truly a breath of fresh air throughout suffocating days of school. The only subject you were good at is literature but the skills you've gained failed to form a clear answer to why your best friend has never doubted you. Asking him yourself only made the progress more complicated for both your mind and heart, as he flicked your head and told you about how much he worried more about your efforts than some silly printed texts.

“Your mind is built from poetry, not numbers, my little train-wreck.” You remembered his soothing voice right beside your ear, ignoring his ways with words and how it shaded your tear-stained canvas a light red, you let out a weak chuckle to lighten the mood.

“And yours is built of riddles. I'm not stable enough to solve one right now, Sun.” Your lighthearted response only brought him to laughter, a smile now placed onto your face as you silently hoped he would drop whatever sentimental words he just thought of since it was already as awkward as it could be. Who in their right mind would ask their best friend to climb through the bedroom window just because regrets were hitting too hard at 3 am? The guy has a controlling family for god's sake.

“You let people treat you so poorly just because of a subject, or it is everything about you throws them off. Why, though? You might think you're weird but I feel like you're just performing. A spectacular show that doesn't meet its audience, so desperately wants to be heard.”

As you thought you couldn’t drown yourself in thoughts of him further, this only deepened it. How you wondered if he actually has a third eye, silently guilding your thoughts to their respective docks. In your mind, he is the epitome of elegance, sometimes you wonder if the word is made specifically for him. Sunday is just perfect, while in one way he was expected to be due to being the adopted son of such a high status family, you felt like he doesn't even have to try. He handled stressful situations with ease, he joked it's you who taught him so with your antics. You two are the polar opposite, yet it felt like two puzzle pieces finding each other, different notes that falls in tune. You wondered how he tolerated everything throughout the years, not that you were complaining, it was just your anxiety often questions the authenticity of this friendship but as his hand cradled your face, the usual smile reserved for only you entered the view, you knew the dreams about him were real because Sunday adores you.

Unfortunately, your dreams crashed. You mentally cursed him for ruining everything, but it was not his fault he couldn't reciprocate those feelings, it was not his fault he is destined for greatness and you are the loser that existed. You knew you were being petty but it hurt how everything turned out to be a cacophony in disguise, how you two favored the full moon that night like the way you favored each other. Well, the way you favored him. Sunday wouldn't know all these shameful thoughts, you only nodded at his kind refusal with choked breaths after all. His frown only deepened once he noticed how tears sharp as the finest blade threatened to fall from your eyes and slice through his heart, but he didn't say anything. It hurts that your feelings were treated like a slipped word, a dumb accident, by both you and mostly him.

He knew you're worried, he was trained to be attentive to every change to his surroundings yet here he was, hands in a tight grip like how his thoughts were tied together in a messy knot. Sunday has been avoiding you, not right after the night of your confession though, he wasn't that cruel but he was evil enough to do it after reassuring you, hoping you would not throw away such unshakable friendship. Reason was, Sunday didn't know why he couldn't accept your love, he should have trust in every card he played, that was what they taught him.

It just tasted bitter. He isn't a saint, he hoped you also knew that, his mouth is filled with lies and his existence needs to be soaked in soap. In other words, Sunday is a freak of nature. Him and his sister were adopted to a rich family after the passing of their parents. Sadly enough, he still felt like nobody's son, his every step reminds him of walking on fragile ice under the threatening gaze of his so-called guardians but he still walks anyways. His sister, Robin, has her own dreams to fulfill and no one will dared to rewritte her role into another plaything for the Gods. That's why Sunday will carry all the burdens, the responsibility that will never be put onto Robin's freely spread wings and he works hard to keep it that way.

Sunday lived in this facade that is made of others' desires, he was a trapped bird that pretends to be an eagle, he felt like the strongest piece but never the mastermind. Unlike him, his darling was the salvation humanity carved for all their miserable life, you were the living proof that the lord heard his songs. You slowly metamorphosed into his only God though, Sunday believed his schemes were always concealed because he worshiped you. Sunday believed you didn't exist because he was only worthy of your afterimage. You were and are his 'father', his entire universe. He shamefully found himself praying to your name against the family's knowledge, images of your beauty embroidered in his mind rather than any flight of fancy.

But how Sunday loathed himself, how pitiful is he if everyone were starting to lead their own life yet he was still following a script, how unfortunate is he if the boy of his dreams felt like the vast sky from his cage. Why does one feel deep disgust within but still mindlessly follows the same path? He wanted to fly upward, to feel your touch but the sky is unreachable and so is you. Sunday knows his love for you like the back of his hand, it's more than the platonic feeling towards his sister and the ambition towards a perfect future, it's the only thing the family didn't plant into his mind at such a young age. His love for you felt like the only thing he could freely express.

You knew he wished to live in a dreamscape, where he would generate happiness for the unfortunates but you don't know this dreamland of his sprouted from the purest of love for you. Those troublesome worries won't reach you there, he swore upon his life that he would shield you away from this brutal world in your new home. You only laughed at his silly delusion though, you never wanted to live in a lie and he knew that clearly. Sunday envied that part of you, he detested how strong you are despite all attempts to drag you down but maybe that's what confirmed his feelings towards you.

You were able to confuse Sunday in the best way possible. You could sob about how ugly you are, complain about your failure of a life and hatred for reality but in the end, you didn't mean it. You wanted to live for the imperfect tomorrow, you wanted to erode a stone that is your destiny with him, with Sunday. Yes, that's what you are. So imperfectly beautiful as he's perfectly fake. That's why he would push you away, as unreasonable as his actions were, he will not taint your future and dirty your determination, this kaleidoscoping pain shall never reach your ears. Sunday doesn't want anyone to find out you're his weakness, he doesn't want to acknowledge you're the sweet reality to his pained dream. He was happily in your shadow even if he could catch a glimpse of your performance.

Sunday loves you so he will let you go.

© art by @/Ceoretkr on twt

[mysunshinetemptress]

In The Moonlight

Leah Williamson x singer!reader warnings: None except shitty writing, fluff

A grin stretched across your face, wide enough to rival the jet lag currently waging war in your head. Two world tours back to back had been a whirlwind, exhilarating and exhausting in equal measure, Social media detox was the doctor's orders, a chance to reconnect with the real world however it was about to get a small pause with the absurdity of the TikTok trend.

Here you were, the hottest pop star on the planet, about to participate in a goofy social media challenge inspired by a goofy song from a sitcom.

You had stumbled upon a hilarious trend, people were reenacting the iconic scene from Modern Family where Dylan serenades Haley with his...interestingly phrased song, "In the Moonlight (Do Me)," and passing it off as their own in front of their family and friends. Laughter bubbled up in your chest as you watched one particularly enthusiastic boy singing the suggestive lyrics much to his parent's disgust and surprise.

"Right," you declared, voice thick with amusement, as you spoke into the phone"I'm breaking my social media blackout for this because I can't help but take part in this trend."

With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you grabbed your phone heading to the living room where Leah and a few of your family and friends have gathered for the barbecue. "hey guys can I have your attention for a quick second, please..I know I'm supposed to be on a break but, I can't get this new song out of my head and I need your opinion on it, I actually think it might work for a single."

A collective groan went up from the assembled group. They knew your "work" mode well, and it usually involved long nights in the studio, not impromptu living room performances. But Leah, ever the supportive girlfriend, flashed a smile.

"Alright, Elvis," she said, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Hit us with this 'new song.'"

Taking a dramatic breath, you check the tuning of your guitar, "It's eh, well you all know who it's about, the same person as all my other songs..it's called In the Moonlight"

The first strum of your guitar sent a hush over the room. They expected the usual pop magic, the infectious energy that had propelled you to superstardom. Instead, your voice crooned out the opening lines of Dylan's "song" with a hilariously exaggerated earnestness.

"The stars are falling from the sky, and you're the reason why. The moon is shining on your face, and I think it's found its place."

Laughter erupted as you finished the first verse, shattering the stunned silence. Your face turned crimson, but you held your pose, trying to maintain a serious expression as you began the chorus.

"Cause maybe, baby, I just want to do you, do you, do you want to do me, do me, underneath the moonlight, moonlight."

Your friends began to laugh silently as Leah's parents and your parents looked on horrified.

"And now we're hiding in my car, I let you see my scars, escape the dark for just one night, your heart makes me explode with light."

Leah snorted, trying to stifle a laugh. Your family exchanged bewildered glances.

"Baby, maybe, Maybe I will steal you, steal you just so I can feel you, feel you, maybe that will heal you, heal you on the inside."

The last note of your "song" died down, replaced by the deafening sound of crickets...or at least, it felt that way. Your family and friends stared at you, mouths agape, the only sound a choked cough from Leah's dad.

The tension broke as Leah doubled over, tears streaming down her face. "Oh my god," she gasped between laughs, "that was amazing! You had them fooled for a good minute there!"

Slowly, the rest of the room caught on. Laughter erupted, first in hesitant chuckles, then in full-blown roars. Even Leah's parents faces still flushed with surprise, couldn't help but crack a smile.

Your parents, still trying to process the experience, shot you a look that mingled amusement with a hint of disapproval. "Honey," your mom began cautiously, "that wasn't exactly...subtle, was it?"

You grinned sheepishly. "Maybe not," you admitted. "But you gotta admit, the reactions were priceless!"

Leah walked over, shaking her head and trying to hide a smile. "You're a menace," she said, giving you a playful shove.

You posted the video a short while later breaking the internet once again. The next morning, your phone was buzzing with notifications. Fans everywhere were recreating your video. You were trending again only this time not because of your tour.

Leah smiled hugging you from behind the next morning "You know I love you and all the wonderful songs you write about me, us, our relationship, but please promise me you will never write anything like that."

Leah smiled hugging you from behind the next morning "You know I love you and all the wonderful songs you write about me, us, and our relationship, but please promise me you will never write anything like that." You laughed turning in her arms "I love you too much to write a song just about your body and my wants for it, no I'll write about you, your soul and sometimes when I feel extra fruity then I'll write about your body and my wants for it no my needs for it."

Leah pulled you in closer kissing you softly "And I'll be your number one listener."

[chuulyssa]

Hey!! Could you do prompt 15 with Dazai and Nikolai? Seperate pls! Where reader has been having it rough lately and they want to be close to their safe person/bff as possible (aka Dazai and Nikolai). They also seem to have feelings for each other but haven't confessed yet 👀

↷ A/N ─ i love this omg you're the besttt :3

★ PROMPT ─ 15

!! FT. ─ dazai, nikolai

"is it okay if i sleep here tonight?"

─ DAZAI

"Of course, you can, bella," he replied immediately, waving a hand.

Of course, you could. He had dreamt of this for so long, to be with you in your darkest times. Your head would rest on his lap while he would play with your hair. So naturally, part of him was exhilarated at the thought of you staying there with him, lighting up his little house.

But part of him felt equally guilty. Who was he to be happy while you were suffering? Ever since he had seen you, he had made it upon himself to protect you from all the sadness and cruelty of humanity. Then, who was he to take joy in your pain?

With these thoughts in mind, Dazai repeated his sentence softly, "You can, bella. For as long as you want."

You nodded thankfully, and he took a pillow and a blanket out. You looked at him, puzzled, since there were already enough pillows for both of you on his bed.

"What's that for?"

"Oh, that," he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, before attempting to switch back to his cheerful personality. "I don't suppose you'd be able to bear the thought of a handsome detective asleep right next to you?"

"Maybe I could," you said quietly.

Dazai blinked.

Oh.

Oh.

This was real.

"Heck, yeah, you could," he jumped onto the bed.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

─ NIKOLAI

"Yes, little dove," he poked your nose. "Why, my house is absolutely charmed to be in the presence of a wonderful, wonderful lady such as yourself," he bowed down to you, and his hat toppled off.

Clearly, he was trying to make you laugh. You giggled slightly, and he looked up at you with the most awed look ever. That laugh. He loved it.

He straightened up after taking his hat back from the floor and putting it on.

"Would you like to remain in the vicinity of this poor jester, my little dove?"

"Yeah," you sniffed your tears away and let him lead you by the hand to his bed.

The two of you lay down after he changed his clothes. It wasn't awkward at all, surprisingly. You had thought sharing a bed with your crush would be embarrassing. But somehow, the way his eye, free from his usual eyepatch, looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing in the world, made you realize that you would agree to have ten more mental breakdowns if it meant being with him.

Nikolai saw that you caught him staring, and winked at you before his eyes turned mischievous. Before you could ask what he had found, a portal opened near your stomach and he began tickling you, just to hear that heavenly sound of your laughter again

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

© chuulyssa 2024 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.

[rainbow-rebellion]

Happy three years to “Kara leaned in”!

“It’s only because you’re on the team that I’m here,” she murmured in Lena’s ear, holding the other woman in her arms as close as she could without hurting her. It was the truth, but somehow it just didn’t feel like enough. And how could it, when there were so many more truths hammering away at the walls of her heart, begging to be let free? Kara wasn’t sure if there were enough words to say what she longed to. To tell her best friend how during their time apart, she constantly felt like a piece of her was missing, and how having Lena back in her life had made her feel whole again. And how could she explain to her, to everyone, that when she was trapped in the phantom zone, she thought her worst nightmares would be of losing Alex or Eliza - but instead the nightmare the phantoms chose to taunt her with, night after cold, dark, sleepless night, was of losing Lena. How she lost Lena a hundred times, in a hundred different ways, and every single time, she woke up screaming and choking on her own tears. When she finally stumbled through the door onto the ship and into Alex’s waiting arms, there was a large part of her that wished it had been Lena who caught her. And maybe that should make her feel guilty, with how close Kara and her sister have always been - but then again, Lena has always been the exception to the rule. 

The truth is, as much as Supergirl needs the sun, the teary-eyed woman standing in front of her is almost equally as important. Kara likes to think of Lena as the moon - a light to guide her in the darkest nights, and the same type of gravity that has always drawn her in, constant like the pull of the ocean tides. And maybe that very gravity is why, when Lena finally steps back from their embrace, Kara can’t help the way her body follows. Maybe it’s because after spending every night in that awful place having to face the reality of life without Lena, Kara is pretty sure she would follow her anywhere. Or maybe, it’s because she knows she might never find the right words to say, and so for once, she decides to let her heart take the lead. 

As she feels herself lean in, taking a small step forward to close the gap between herself and the brunette, there’s a moment where Lena’s eyes widen in surprise as she registers what Kara is about to do. But then her hands are softly cupping the superhero’s face and pulling her in, and just as Kara’s own trembling hands find Lena’s waist, their lips meet in a tender kiss. It’s everything Kara had ever imagined it would be, and yet it’s nothing at all like she imagined it, because it’s so, so much more. She doesn’t register the look of shock on Alex’s face as her hands slide up Lena’s back, as she tugs her closer and deepens the kiss, nor does she hear J’onn awkwardly clearing his throat as he politely suggests the team leave the room to give the two women some privacy. All that exists in this moment is the feeling of Lena’s heart pounding against her own, of the softness of Lena’s mouth against hers, and the feel of Lena’s hands tangling in her hair. She vaguely hears the receding sound of Nia’s laughter as she crows triumphantly about someone owing her fifty dollars, but none of that matters. Because right now, with Lena in her arms and their lips pressed together, Kara knows she is finally home.

-------

edit - decided to put it on AO3 too

[gong-fourz]

Love on Tour ━ 태산

genre: fluff warnings: long distance relationship, kissing, lots of heartache, nostalgia(maybe), mentions crying, terms of endearment (that's all I could think of, if I missed anything pls let me know) pairing: idol!taesan x fem!reader wc: 3.7k a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TAESAN!! also a big thank you to @0310s for beta reading! nets: @blossomnet @onedoornet @k-labels

Before Taesan left for the tour, your life together was a beautiful, predictable rhythm of love and companionship. You both lived in a cozy apartment nestled in a bustling part of the city. Your days were filled with laughter, spontaneous adventures, and the comfort of each other's presence.

Mornings started with Taesan waking up first, his arms still wrapped around you from the night before. He gently kissed your forehead, causing you to stir and smile even in your sleep. "Good morning, sunshine," he whispered, his voice tender and warm. You slowly opened your eyes, greeting him with a sleepy smile. "Morning, love."

You both had a routine you cherished. Taesan, being the better cook, made breakfast—pancakes on Sundays and omelets on weekdays. You sat on the counter, sipping your coffee, watching him with admiration. "You know," you said playfully, "you're the best chef I've ever known." He laughed and shook his head, flipping a pancake with a flourish. "Only because I've had the best muse."

Your weekends were sacred. You visited the local farmer's market, hand in hand, picking out fresh produce and flowers. You had a favorite café where you spent hours talking about everything and nothing. You loved your corner booth; it was a place where you could watch the world go by and dream about your future together.

One particular Sunday, you were at the café, and the sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a golden glow over everything. You were animatedly talking about a new project at work, your eyes sparkling with excitement. Taesan watched you, his heart swelling with love and pride. He reached across the table, taking your hand in his. "I'm so proud of you. You're amazing."

Your evenings were equally cherished. You cooked dinner together, dancing around the kitchen to your favorite songs. After dinner, you curled up on the couch, watching movies or reading books. Taesan often strummed his guitar, playing soft melodies that filled your home with a sense of peace. You lay your head on his lap, closing your eyes and losing yourself in the music.

As the tour approached, a sense of urgency crept into your lives. You clung to your routines, trying to savor every moment together. One night, as you lay in bed, Taesan pulled you close. "I'm going to miss this so much," he whispered, his voice heavy with emotion. "I'm going to miss you."

Your heart ached at the thought of being apart. You ran your fingers through his hair, trying to memorize the feel of him. "I'll miss you too, Taesan. But we'll get through this. I know we will."

The day before he left, you spent every second together. You revisited all your favorite spots, took long walks, and discussed your future. That night, you laid on the couch, wrapped in each other's arms, tears streaming down your faces. You didn't need words; your love spoke volumes.

The morning of his departure, you woke up to find Taesan already up, packing his bags. He looked at you with a mixture of sadness and determination. "This isn't goodbye. It's just a temporary separation. We'll be together again soon."

You nodded, your throat tight with emotion. You walked over to him, wrapping your arms around him. "I know. I believe in us."

As you kissed goodbye, both of you held on a little longer, a little tighter. The tour bus pulled away, and you stood there, waving, your heart heavy but hopeful. You knew your love would withstand the distance, that you would emerge from this stronger than ever. And with that belief, you turned and walked back to your apartment, counting down the days until Taesan returned.

Sitting on your bed later that week, your phone clutched tightly in your hand, you took a deep breath and hit the call button. The familiar ring filled your ears as you waited for Taesan to pick up.

"Hey, Y/N," Taesan's warm voice came through, tinged with exhaustion. "I'm so glad you called. I miss you."

You smiled, though it didn't reach your eyes. He wouldn’t know, though. "I miss you too, Taesan. How was your show tonight?"

"It was great. The crowd was amazing, and everything went smoothly," he replied with a hint of enthusiasm. "But it's not the same without you here."

You felt a lump form in your throat. "I wish I could be there with you. Every day feels so empty without you around. I miss your laugh, your smile… everything."

Taesan sighed, the sound heavy with longing. "I know what you mean. I miss waking up next to you and having you there to share all the little moments. It's hard, Y/N. Sometimes, it feels like this tour will never end."

You closed your eyes, trying to keep your emotions in check. "I hate that we have to be apart for so long. The days feel endless, and I find myself counting down the minutes until we can talk again."

"Me too," Taesan admitted, his voice soft. "I've been looking at photos of us, remembering all the good times. It helps a little but also makes me miss you even more."

Tears welled up in your eyes. "I do the same thing. I keep a picture of us on my nightstand, and I look at it every night before I go to sleep. It's my way of feeling close to you, even if it's just for a moment."

Taesan was silent for a few seconds, the weight of your separation hanging heavy in the air. "I wish I could just hold you right now. Talking on the phone helps, but it's not enough. I need you here with me."

You hastily wiped a stray tear away. "I know, Taesan. I feel the same way. It's hard to stay strong when all I want is to be near you. But… we have to keep going for each other."

"We will," Taesan said, his voice firm but tender. "This distance won't last forever. We'll get through this, and when the tour is over, we'll make up for all the lost time."

You nodded, even though he couldn't see you. "I can't wait for that day. Until then, we'll have to hold onto our love and keep each other strong."

"Agreed," Taesan replied. "And remember, I'm always thinking of you. You're always in my heart, no matter where or what I'm doing."

You smiled through your tears, feeling a glimmer of hope. "You're always in my heart, too, Taesan. We'll make it through this together." After a moment of contemplation, you continued, "Do you remember that little café we used to go to every Sunday? I went there last weekend. It wasn't the same without you, but it brought back so many good memories."

Taesan's voice brightened. "Of course, I remember. We'd sit in the corner booth, and you'd always order that ridiculous triple chocolate muffin. How was it?"

You chuckled, the sound bittersweet. "Just as delicious as ever. I saved a piece for you, you know, out of habit. But it was nice to sit there and think about all the times we laughed and talked for hours."

"I miss those Sundays," Taesan said softly. "I miss how you’d scrunch your nose when you were deep in thought or how your eyes lit up when you talked about something you loved. It's those little things that I miss the most."

Your heart ached with longing. "Me too. Like how you'd always hum when you were concentrating, or how you'd reach for my hand without even realizing it. It's the everyday moments that I miss the most."

Taesan sighed again, the sound heavy with emotion. "We'll get those moments back, Y/N. This tour won't last forever. And when it's over, we'll make every moment count."

You nodded, feeling a swell of determination. "You're right. And until then, we'll hold onto the memories and look forward to making new ones. We've got this, Taesan."

"I know we do," he replied, his voice filled with love. "Thank you for calling tonight. Hearing your voice makes everything a little easier."

You smiled, a sense of peace settling over you. "Thank you for being there, Taesan. We'll get through this together."

You lingered on the phone, each finding solace in the other's voice. As you finally said your goodbyes, you felt a renewed sense of hope. The road ahead might be long, but your love was strong enough to bridge any distance.

You sat at the kitchen table with your laptop open in front of you. The soft glow of the screen illuminated your thoughtful expression. It had been three long months since Taesan had left for his band's nationwide tour. The late-night phone calls and daily text messages weren't enough to fill the void his absence had created. You missed everything about him—the way his laughter filled the room, the warmth of his hugs, the sound of his voice singing softly to you.

Scrolling through social media, you saw a new video posted by his band. The crowd cheered wildly as he commanded the stage with his usual charisma. He looked happy, and you felt a pang of guilt for wishing he were back home. You wanted to support his dreams, but the distance was taking its toll.

As you watched him perform their favorite song, an idea sparked in your mind. What if you could surprise him in a way that he would never forget? The thought filled you with excitement.

Your mind raced with possibilities. You imagined the look of surprise and joy on his face when he realized you were there. It was perfect. With renewed determination, you resolved to make it happen. You would show him just how much he meant to you, no matter the distance.

You began your preparations the very next day, your heart fluttering with a mix of excitement and nervousness. You knew you needed help to pull off this surprise, so you reached out to Sungho, one of Taesan's bandmates and his closest friend in the group.

Sungho had always been a quiet, introspective figure, deeply passionate about his music and art. Over time, you had bonded with him through your shared love of creativity, especially sketching. Sungho, who was initially reserved, gradually opened up to you as you discussed the challenges of artistic expression. These conversations brought you closer, and Sungho came to value your opinions on his work, seeing you as a true friend and confidante. You knew he would be the perfect person to help you with this plan.

"Hey, Sungho," you greeted when he answered your call, "I have a crazy idea and need your help."

"Sure. What's up?" Sungho's warm and welcoming voice comforted you, reminding you of your friendship with the band.

You took a deep breath. "I want to surprise Taesan by sneaking into his hotel room after your show. Do you think you could help me?"

Sungho laughed, delighted by the idea. "That's brilliant! Taesan is going to flip. Let me talk to our manager, and I'll make sure his room is ready for you."

Your heart raced. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening and that you would be meeting Taesan very soon. "Thank you so much, Sungho. This means the world to me."

Within an hour, Sungho had rallied the rest of the band, and they were all on board. You weren’t surprised—each member had become like family to you, and you knew they would do anything to make this surprise happen.

Leehan, the band’s vocalist, who was known for his natural charisma and warmth, was especially excited. Your bond with Leehan had deepened over time through shared experiences, particularly your mutual love for aquatic life and exploring new places. Leehan was always the heart of the group, making sure everyone felt valued and appreciated. He immediately started brainstorming ways to make the surprise even more special, suggesting details that only someone who knew Taesan as well as he did could come up with.

Riwoo, the group’s energetic dancer and choreographer, was equally enthusiastic. Riwoo was the embodiment of energy and positivity, always ready for an adventure. Your friendship with him was filled with laughter and spontaneous fun, and he saw this surprise as the perfect opportunity for another exciting escapade. He offered to distract Taesan after the show, giving you more time to prepare.

Even Woonhak, the youngest member of the group, was eager to help. Despite his youth, Woonhak was thoughtful and mature, often surprising you with his wisdom and insight. He looked up to you as an older sibling figure, and he was determined to play his part in making this reunion unforgettable. Woonhak also offered to keep Taesan occupied during the day, ensuring he had no clue about the surprise waiting for him.

Sungho called you to finalize the logistics. "We'll be in Chicago next week," he explained. "We have a big show, and afterward, I can sneak you into Taesan's room. The band will be hanging out at the venue for a while, so you'll have time to get in and hide before Taesan comes back."

Your excitement grew. "That sounds perfect, Sungho. Thank you so much for helping me with this."

The days leading up to the concert flew by. You could hardly contain your eagerness. You packed your bags and set off for Chicago, your mind racing with anticipation. The thought of seeing Taesan's face after all this time filled you with indescribable joy.

On the day of the concert, you arrived at the hotel early. You met with Sungho to finalize the details. He chose a perfect spot for you to hide in Taesan's room—between the wall and the bed. He found you in the hotel lobby and led you to Taesan's room, smiling reassuringly. "Are you ready?"

You took a deep breath and nodded. "I'm ready."

Sungho unlocked the room and held the door open for you, smiling. "Good luck. I'll make sure Taesan takes his time getting here."

You grinned back, your heart pounding a mile a minute. "Thank you, Sungho. I couldn't have done this without you." You climbed onto the bed and slid into the gap between the wall and the mattress, squeezing into the tight space. The familiar scent of Taesan's cologne lingered in the air, making your heart ache with longing. You waited, your mind racing with thoughts of how Taesan would react.

After what felt like an eternity, you heard the distant sound of the concert ending and the murmur of fans as they left the venue. Your heart pounded as you prepared for the moment. You heard footsteps approaching the room, and then the door creaked open.

Taesan stepped into the room, looking exhausted but exhilarated. "Man, what a show," he muttered to himself, dropping his bag on the floor. He ambled around the room, tidying up and unwinding from the performance. You held your breath, waiting for the perfect moment.

Finally, Taesan headed to the bathroom, and you heard the sound of the shower turning on. You took this opportunity to slip out from your hiding spot and climb into the bed, pulling the covers up to your chin. You lay there, your heart racing, as you listened to the water running.

A few minutes later, the shower turned off, and Taesan emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. He moved around the room, getting ready for bed. You could barely contain your excitement as you waited for him to lie down.

Taesan finally pulled back the covers on his side of the bed and climbed in, sighing with contentment as he settled down. You waited a few moments, then turned to face him, a mischievous smile on your face.

"Surprise!" you exclaimed, your voice filled with exhilaration.

Taesan's eyes flew open, and he nearly jumped out of bed. "Y/N? What… How are you here?"

You laughed, wrapping your arms around him. "I missed you so much. I wanted to do something special for you." Taesan pulled you into a tight embrace, his voice choked with emotion. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

You lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, as the moment's reality sank in. Taesan's grip tightened around you as if holding you any less firmly might make you disappear. "I can't believe you did this," your boyfriend said, his eyes shining with awe. "You're incredible."

You smiled, brushing a tear from your cheek. "I just wanted to remind you how much I love you and how proud I am of you."

Taking your hands in his, Taesan’s eyes locked onto yours. "You've done so much more than that. You've made me the happiest man alive."

Just then, Sungho peeked into the room, grinning from ear to ear. "Hey, lovebirds! We couldn't miss this moment," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

The band members stepped into the room, surrounding you both with their warmth. They congratulated you on your brilliant idea, each sharing the joy of the surprise. The room buzzed with laughter and love, a perfect end to an unforgettable night.

As the evening wound down and the bandmates began to leave, you found a quiet corner to yourselves. You sat on the bed, holding hands, and talked about everything you'd missed in each other's lives. You shared stories about your time apart, the little moments that made you think of each other, and your dreams for the future.

Taesan took a deep breath and began, "The tour was incredible. The energy, the crowds—it was everything I ever dreamed of. But every night, after the show, when the adrenaline faded… I felt so alone without you."

You squeezed his hand. "I can't imagine how hard that must have been. I missed you so much, Tae. Work's been hectic—two promotions, believe it or not. I also started painting again, trying to keep busy."

"Painting?" Taesan's eyes lit up. "That's amazing! I remember how much you loved it. Do you have any pieces I can see?"

You nodded, a shy smile on your lips. "I do. I'll show you later. But honestly, everything reminded me of you. Every song on the radio, every city skyline. It all felt empty without you."

"I felt the same," Taesan said softly. "Even in a crowd of thousands, I just wanted to share it all with you. Every time something good happened, I wished you were there to see it."

You looked into his eyes, tears welling up.

You held each other, knowing that your love would always bring you back together no matter the distance.

"I can't believe you pulled this off," Taesan said, his eyes still shining with amazement. "You're incredible."

You smiled, your heart full. "I just wanted to make you happy. Seeing you like this makes everything worth it."

Taesan leaned in, kissing you gently. "You've made me happier than I ever thought possible. Thank you. Thank you for loving me like this."

You sat there, wrapped in each other's arms, knowing that no matter how far apart you were, your love would always find a way to bring you back together.

You stayed on tour with Taesan for the next few days, savoring every moment you had together. The days were filled with laughter, music, and deep conversations that strengthened your bond. You attended his shows, watched him perform proudly, and joined the band for meals and late-night jam sessions. Your friendship with Taesan's bandmates deepened, and they became like a second family.

One evening, after a particularly fantastic show, Taesan and you found yourselves alone on the balcony of your hotel room, the city lights twinkling below. You sat close, hands intertwined, the cool night air filled with the promise of the future.

"This tour has been incredible," Taesan said, his voice filled with awe. "But having you here makes it perfect."

You leaned into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart. "I'm so glad I could join you. Seeing you perform and being part of this... it's amazing."

Taesan kissed your forehead, a soft, tender gesture. "The distance was hard, but it made me realize something important."

"What's that?" You asked, looking up at him.

Taesan took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours. "No matter how far apart we are, you're always with me. And I'm always with you. Our love is stronger than any distance."

You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. "I feel the same way, Taesan. This experience has shown me how strong we are together."

Taesan smiled, his eyes shining with love. "And it's made me think about the future. I don't want us to be apart like that again. When this tour ends, I want us to build a life together. Wherever the road takes us, I want you by my side."

Your heart swelled with happiness. "I want that too, Taesan. More than anything."

You sat in comfortable silence, watching the city that never sleeps buzz with energy. The journey ahead was unknown, but you were ready to face it together.

As the days passed, you continued to make the most of your time together. You explored new cities, created unforgettable memories, and talked about your plans for the future. You discussed how you would manage the remaining time apart, promising to stay connected through daily calls and frequent visits.

"We'll get through this," Taesan said, his voice filled with conviction. "No matter how far apart we are, we'll always find our way back to each other."

You nodded, your eyes shining with conviction. "Always."

And with that promise, you held each other close, knowing that your love was unbreakable, your bond unshakable. No matter where life would take the both of you, you would always have each other.

taglist: @minkilicious

[gigglesandfreckles-hp]

@jilymicrofics august 12: bride

“Oh!” James stammers. “Sorry, I thought this room—er, never mind. I’ll…just—”

She looks up, and James nearly stumbles backward, shocked and horrified by the sight before him. He knows the makeup streaking down her cheeks in dark smudges was perfect just half an hour ago. She’s entirely perfect, in fact, a fact he clocked from the moment he showed up to the venue this morning, camera bag in tow, completely oblivious to the fact that he was about to meet the most beautiful girl in the world.

The only issue, of course, being that she’s marrying someone else in approximately two hours.

Well, that and the now-added issue of her crying in an empty room of the church.

“Oh god,” she gasps, her voice cracking. She wipes at her snotty nose with a crumpled tissue, trying to smudge away the tears that have left her face a wreck. “You must think I’m mad. Two hours before the ceremony and the bride is having a meltdown...”

James forces a nervous smile, shifting his camera bag to his other shoulder. “I dunno,” he says, trying to keep his voice light. “I reckon I’d rather see you crying now than after the ceremony.”

She lets out a shaky laugh, which quickly dissolves into a snort that he probably should find unattractive but bloody hell, she really is gorgeous. “What if I told you I’m not showing up to the ceremony at all?” she asks.

“Er…” His eyes widen, and he glances anxiously over his shoulder. “Should I—get someone…or…?”

She waves him off, the fabric of her voluminous dress rustling as she shifts on the floor. “No, no, my sister’s handling it. I’ll be hearing about this moment for the rest of my life—and the next one too. But Petunia’s thorough. She’ll make sure everyone gets cleared out and—” She pauses, looking up at him with a curious tilt of her head. “You’re the photographer, right? She’s probably looking for you.”

With some effort, she rises from the floor, the gown making her movements clumsy. James instinctively takes a step toward her, but she manages to stand on her own, brushing off the dress as best she can.

“Well,” she says with a forced cheerfulness, “consider yourself relieved of your duties.” Her laugh is a mix of hysteria and genuine amusement, and then her eyes widen as she adds, “You’ll still be paid, of course!”

“I’m not—” He shakes his head, frowning. “Are you alright?”

She glances over her shoulder, as if expecting someone else to be there, then turns back to him. “I…I don’t know. I’ve done something pretty awful, haven’t I? It’s not like I just started having these feelings today and Benjy deserves better than this...but I truly didn’t realise until I put the dress on today—” She gestures dramatically toward the gown. “—and then it just… What’s your name?”

“Er, James?”

“I put the dress on, James, and then I just knew. I think I love him, but—I mean, I’m only 22. How can I be sure? How can anyone be sure?”

I’d be sure about you, his brain immediately supplies, and he barely manages not to slap himself in the face, because what the fuck?

But his name sounds really, really good coming out of her mouth.

“So I just—I told Mary I needed a moment and I found Benjy and…” Her hand flies to her mouth, her eyes widening in some sort of realisation.  “Oh my God.”

James steps closer, alarmed. “What? What is it?”

She giggles, a sound that’s somehow equal parts relief and disbelief. “I actually did it, James!”

“You…”

“I called off the wedding! Saved myself from a lifetime of unhappiness.”

“That’s…good. Right?”

“It’s great, James.” She looks around the room. “I wish I had something to drink. I need alcohol.”

“There’s…” He gestures vaguely over his shoulder. “Champagne.”

She looks at him for a moment, then bursts into laughter. “You’re fit and funny,” she says, still giggling.

Fit. Fit. Fit. Fit. Fit. Fit. Fit.

“Sorry,” she adds, though she doesn’t sound apologetic at all. “I’m a single woman now, you know?” James’s mouth opens and closes, lost for words, until she mercifully steps in. “I’m joking, James. Not about the fit thing, though. You are ridiculously good-looking. But I suppose you know that, don’t you?”

“I’m…not sure what to say to that.”

“Can I see?” she asks suddenly.

His brow furrows. “What?”

She points to the camera slung over his shoulder. James isn’t sure of the etiquette for showing a recently single bride pictures of her ex-fiancé and the wedding party, but he can’t imagine a reality in which he is capable of denying this woman anything. With a resigned sigh, he slings the camera around and turns it on. She crowds over his shoulder, the full skirts of her dress fanning out around them as she peers at the screen.

“Ooh,” she sighs, delighted. “You’re quite good.”

Something prompts him to ask, “Good enough to still frame a picture of you and your ex-fiancé above the mantle?”

She turns her head from the camera to look at him, the shift bringing her mere inches from his face. Her freckles are beyond lovely, and her eyes—Jesus.

“I reckon only I get the right to make jokes about my failed wedding, yeah? Seeing as I called it off all but half an hour ago.”

He swallows, a nervous smile tugging at his lips. “Right.”

Her face lights up with the most brilliant grin. “Did you know you smell spectacular, James?” Before he can respond, she adds, “I’m Lily, by the way.”

“Yeah, I…” He takes a breath. “Can I get you anything? More tissue? Champagne?”

She gazes at him with a look of fondness. “If you’re determined to be a sweetheart, you can stay right here with me until I’m absolutely sure I’m done crying.”

“Oh.” He nods, his movement slightly awkward, if not ridiculously eager. “Yeah. I can… do that.”

[mrsnancywheeler]

the lakes (2) // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: it's supposed to be over, you and Finnick are supposed to spend the rest of your lives helping each other heal. living as peacefully as possible, but the the third quarter quell throws a wrench in your domestic bliss.

previous chapter / next chapter

midnight rain

2.9k words

warnings: ANGST, fluff, mentions and allusions to mental illness, an elopement but not officially, terms of endearment, Finnick being cheesy af and also having a savior complex, reader also having a savior complex, allusions to death and violence, the reaping, sickeningly sweet but also heart wrenching things, cheesy writing, UNEDITED, no use of y/n, mild language

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Suddenly the day had arrived, technically you'd let yourself bleed into it. How could you rest when this could be the last time you lay in your soft sheets with him? When you'd never seen the sunrise and set over the glittering waters of District 4? You needed to indulge yourself with the smell of the salt air in the early morning, touch the cold kitchen counters and rest your feet on equally freezing hardwood floors. So you stared through the window to the glistening stars which shined above the ocean water letting the sparkle ingrain itself into the depths of your soul.

“Can we stop pretending to be asleep now?" His voice whispered, hot on your ear like the arm lazily laying across your side.

“Yeah." You allowed yourself to softly smile as you sat up. All of the things you wanted to enjoy you equally needed to be done with him. To walk hand and hand around the sandy beaches, for him to mindlessly tie knots as you searched through the rocks during low tide for the tiny creatures that would appear. “Should we fish for our breakfast?” You playfully rose your eyebrows.

"You hate fishing.” Finnick had a toothy grin, you were humoring him, his passions and he loved that about you, but what that really meant made him resent it.

“Yeah." You shrugged, kissing him sweetly before unwrapping yourself from the blankets every so slowly. This might be the last time you could comfortably do that. “Let's get ready." So the two of you did so in each other's comforting silence, a routine that was so natural. He always took longer to get dressed, so you began with the very last part before exiting the room. Making the bed.

Carefully laying each blanket in what Finnick had long ago deemed to be the correct order and you could feel his eyes on you. He was so particular that usually he would do it himself, but he just stood in the closet door frame staring.

“Staring is rude, where have your manners gone?” You teased as you continued diligently preparing the bed for whenever it may provide its comforts again. When he didn't shoot back a reply right away you turned to look at him.

“Hard to remember when you look so ethereal in the moonlight, angel." Finnick approached, lightly grazing your chin with fingertips. “That pillow-" He pointed at the one clad in its silk pillowcase. “Is mine.” With such a playful and bossy look in his eyes you couldn't help but throw it at him.

“Fine, I didn't want it anyways, but this one is mine.” You grabbed the softest one in the bunch from his side of the bed and dragged it over to you.

"You little minx.” He scoffed, grabbing your arms as you held the pillow. You wrapped your arms tightly around it and he pulled you onto the bed trying to pry it from you as you erupted into laughter. "You end up lying on me anyways, it's my poor head that needs to be protected.” You tried to tear yourself from his arms wrestling against the tight grips of your arms, thrashing across the bed. “Messing up the bed now too." He clicked his tongue condescendingly at you, "At least I was already going to have to remake it.”

You gasped and let go of the pillow to lightly hit his shoulder which he used to successfully retrieve it. " You dick!” He laughed and stood.

"Just go sit by the window and look pretty, my love. It's not your fault you can't get it right.” You rolled your eyes lovingly as he helped you up.

"You're right, it's your fault for being so picky about it.” He hummed in agreement and gave a peck to your lips before gesturing towards the window adjacent to the chair.

“Let me admire you more as I do the work, angel.” So you sat as he went through the steps of his bed making routine. He did it all with a care that cut into your heart. Tenderly observing the precision he had for each act, it was as if he needed the bed to be such a haven to lay in that no imperfection could taint it. “We should get married." Finnick said abruptly after laying the final pillow down.

You were stunned into a stupor, staring back at him as the glow of the moon glittered on the bronze of his skin. “What?"

“Let's go get married." He knelt down in front of you hands on your knees

A shocked laugh left your lips, “Finnick, that's not how that works."

He grinned, “I don't care." His eyes felt like they were etching themselves into your heart. “We don't need some paper to tell the world, let it just be us, and the sand, and the waves, and the mist. And when this is all over we can go do it officially with the big white wedding or whatever else you could want, but right now let's just be one. Have the ocean bind our souls, angel. I wanna be yours forever.”

Desperation, that's what it was. He wanted to be yours so he could know that if he died the sea could tell the tales of your great love, the tides would echo your sweet nothings. But you couldn't find it in you to care about the deeper motivations, it could help heal his soul, help heal yours so you nodded softly and pressed your lips to his.

“Okay." His smile was as bright as the sunlight and picked you up in his arms. You could have fallen asleep in the warmth of his arms as he diligently carried you to the waters near your home. Passionately kissing you as he laid your bare feet on the wet sand. He looked at you expectantly, for what you couldn't tell so you teased him. “What? I know you're impatient, but don't I at least get a ring?"

You stepped away closer to the waters as you scanned the rocks. Each starfish and sea anemone, you'd miss the bliss they brought whenever you were out early enough.

“Here." You nearly jumped when he reached beside you to pick up a piece of washed up seaweed. “You deserve more, when this is over I'll get you the most gorgeous ring to show everyone what you mean to me."

“This is good enough for me, Finnick. I'm happy with this." You tore some of the seaweed off to fashion one for him as well, you envied how delicately his hands worked to make yours.

“You're happy that it's just past twilight and I've carried you to the beach so we can bind our souls together without even bothering to get a marriage license on the day of the reaping? And I couldn't even bother to bring a real ring?" He teased.

"I'm happy to be with you, to love you when it comes down to it, the other stuff doesn't really matter.” You grinned, “Let's just get married."

"I promise that for all of eternity, past when the sun last rises and when it lasts sets. Far beyond where the last star may shed its light on us or the time when the last leaf falls. With no regard for what is to come that I will be one with you. To have and to hold, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish so that not even death will part our bond and my love.” He delicately slipped the seaweed ring on your freezing finger, kissing your hand as he parted from your fingers.

“I promise that for every drop of water in the ocean, each grain of sand in the earth, each gust of wind, my love will increase boundlessly for you. That we will be one with each other when all thrives through its decay. No tribulation shall part my heart from beating with yours, my tears from falling with yours, nor my lips from syncing with yours. To have and to hold, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish so not even the hands of death will crack the strength of us as one, as we are one from dawn to dusk.” The breeze and mist blessing you with its droplets made you feel so light as you lay your ring on his finger as well.

You didn't question Finnick as he began to weave the remainder of the seaweed around your connected arms.

“May we be connected through the lakes, the sea, the rivers, the springs, the cricks, the ponds, the mist, and the fog with each creature within to let us be one in the world, what you feel, so shall I, what we need the other will provide, and let our devotion be smiled upon."

He kissed you, his honey sweet lips tinged with the salt of the ocean air and you consumed each other in every sense.

"I love you Finnick, so much so I'll refrain from telling people how sentimental you are."

“Only for you, Mrs. Odair." He kissed you again.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You'd obtained so many hours through the lost sleep to spend forgetting about what the day would inevitably do that the both of you could lose yourselves in being unbearably in love with one another. Neverending promises for the future, cuddling on the couch, dancing in the sand to fill the hours until the elephant in the room had to be acknowledged.

The two of you had wound down to the cushions of your couch to hold one another. The talking had ceased so you could simply listen to his breathing, his soothing heartbeat. Oh, if you could do this forever, to never move.

“We have to leave soon." The croaky way the sentence left your throat instantly wanted to send you into a frenzy of tears.

“What if we don't?" He asks, stroking your cheek.

“They'll kill us."

“They're already doing that."

No, technically if neither of you were picked you could both go home in peace, but as the time between the announcement and now had begun, whispers of rebellion and some type of plan had strengthened. Something Finnick wouldn't give up in fighting for even if he had to volunteer and you wouldn't be left here without him. Even if you did, that meant some other friend would have to go die in your place which would be a death within itself.

You reluctantly sat up and had no trust in your voices stability to repeat the need to go, maybe a death here would be better.

“Angel, you know my plan. I know you're unhappy with it-"

“I'm not unhappy with it, I understand you want to help because you are so caring and kind-"

“You're not selfish for being unhappy with me going back, your feelings aren't selfish." His hands cradled your face, “And that's not what I was saying. I just, please, tell me what you plan to do."

You sighed, “I don't know Finnick. I have no idea."

“Then stay, Mags will volunteer if it's your name and don't volunteer for anyone else. If I win then I can come back to you and we can really be married, legally as well as with the planet." He said eagerly, searching your eyes for affirmation.

"Your plans don't end with one victor coming home, so I can't say that. I want you to come home to me, but I want to be with you through it all, to fight your fights, to stand where you stand, not be left behind. But I don't know what I'm going to do yet."

He exhaled harshly through his nose, “You're going to stay here for me." Finnick stood up and grabbed you both pairs of shoes taking no further comment, but no matter what he insisted you'd swore to nothing of the sort.

Quietly the two of you walked towards the square of District 4, your head laying on the comfort of his shoulder. Each of your arms tucked within the others and rings keeping you both grounded within each other when you eventually had to part to different sides of the stage.

“I love you."

“Don't say that in a tone like you'll never see me again."

“I might not for a while, unless you go as a mentor."

“You don't get to make either of those decisions." You felt like you were being forced to tear him from what he assumed would happen to remind him of your own will and it broke your heart when you saw fear flash in the depths of his sea-green eyes.

“Angel-"

“I love you, Finnick." Your voice was filled with conviction as you kissed him with fervor before walking the opposite direction, trying not to look back as what you were sure was his worried, loving, angry face. Why couldn't you just be the girl who waited for him to come back? Why did you need to fight with him? But your soul begged you to do it, so you listened to the call.

Soon enough your breath was hitched even if you knew Finnick would force the same outcome to happen no matter which name was called from the male tributes. As if you needed any more surprises this year your escort had decided to swap up the gendered order of pulling the names. Proclaiming how entertaining Quarter Quells should be in every aspect. Which was probably the least entertaining thing you'd ever heard.

“Finnick Odair." The sickly sweet voice rang out in the microphone and your heart dropped even if you'd been prepared for him to get himself in the games regardless. Your throat felt tight and your fingernails dug into your palms as he smiled for the cameras watching intently.

“And now, for the girls. All such entertaining victors!” She beamed for the viewers, it disgusted you how happy she was for this.

You could feel your heartbeat ricocheting through your head as the tapping of her heels walked to the bowl of four paper slips. Your eyes gazed over the women besides you. Mags in her solemn sereneness, she deserved to pass surrounded by those she loved in her home, and then poor, shaking Annie who wasn't as good at hiding what you pushed down, the girl labeled as going ‘crazy’ by the Capitol, and Ondine who seemed like she had clocked out of her own brain. She stared forward so numbly it appeared as if she'd resigned herself to her death, an image that would haunt you every hour if she did die.

“Annie Cresta."

Your head looked at her instantly, she'd let out a quick sob as she began walking forward. Each step is unsteady and slow. You shot your head towards Finnick, you shook his head, eyes screaming at you to do nothing. To try to mentor but do nothing more. But Annie’s sniffles brought you back to her, she deserved so much more, you were certain her psyche would break before she'd even reached the interviews. As she stepped to pass by you you couldn't hold the adrenaline in your body back.

“I volunteer as tribute!" You shouted shakily, stepping in front of her to stop her from going further.

“No-" You heard Finnick accidentally slip as he looked at you so despairingly, but it didn't undo what you'd said which you felt more confident in as Annie began crying. “It's okay, I'm not gonna make you do that." You whispered to her and hugged her shaking frame as you felt your own silent tears escaping, trying to guide her back to the comfort of the other women.

“You didn't have to-"

“It's okay." You assured the best you could. Ondine, who you'd rarely spoken with looked at you and nodded, as if that said everything she thought, and it did. Suddenly it was as if the regrets you may have had were gone, this wasn't just about you and Finnick, there was so much more on the line and you couldn't have stayed home to watch anyone else suffer.

The consciousness that you were on camera hit you so you let go of Annie and turned back towards where Finnick stood, damning your heart for caring, for not listening. He tried to keep us appearances for the cameras, but the looks of rage, woe, and despair were evident if one simply looked into the depths of his eyes and the way his jaw was clenched ever so slightly.

“District 4’s tributes for the third Quarter Quell!" The screeching voice announced and you wrapped your hand into the stiffness of Finnick's and dragged them above your heads. Letting your makeshift rings sit front and center would be sure to draw the attention of the Capitol citizens deeply invested in this all. Allowing the tears to bubble at your eyelids, it was already part of the brand you'd created years ago. Finnick’s nose flared as he forced his smile and without goodbyes you were led off the stage towards the train.

You could feel the intensity of his rage radiating off of his aura, not the calming warmth he usually possessed, but you knew you wouldn't take back your actions regardless of who'd been chosen. So you resigned yourself to the harshness that lay behind the train's metal doors.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. there is so much more I have planned for this series and I'm so excited to share it with y'all. if you liked it, feedback is much appreciated, likes, comments, reblogs any of it I'm so, so grateful for. as always, my inbox is open for any and all things or ideas! thank you again so much!

taglist: @imaegonstargaryenswife0 @avoxrising @artsyaquarium @jennaaaaaaaaaaaa @secretsicanthideanymore

[estellan0vella]

Don't Bring The Kids To Work Older Brother Sukuna AU HFBU Pt1

Walking through the bustling streets, you hold onto Megumi's hand while Yuji skips alongside you, humming a cheerful tune. The midday sun is warm, casting a golden glow over everything. Your destination is just ahead: Sukuna's tattoo and piercing parlour, a place that's become a second home to you.

You open the door, the familiar chime signalling your arrival. The scent of antiseptic mixed with a hint of ink fills your nostrils, and you instantly feel at ease. The parlour is lively as always, with the hum of tattoo machines and low chatter creating a comforting background noise. Your plan today was to bring Yuji to the parlour so he'd stop asking questions about the wrestling incident from four days ago.

"Hey, Suku!" Yuji calls out, his voice full of excitement. He dashes towards Sukuna, who is leaning against the reception desk, talking to Toji and Geto. Sukuna looks up, a grin spreading across his face as he sees you and the kids.

"Hey, brat," Sukuna greets Yuji, ruffling his hair before his eyes find yours. "Hey, baby." His voice softens, and you can see the affection in his eyes.

"Hi, Kuna," you reply with a smile, walking over to him. Megumi, still holding your hand, looks up at Sukuna with wide eyes.

Toji smirks, leaning back in his chair. "Looks like the little one's tired," he comments, nodding towards Megumi.

"Yeah, he's had a long day," you reply, bending down to pick up the sleepy boy. He instantly curls up in your arms, his head resting against your shoulder.

"Why don't you two go sit on the couch?" Geto suggests, pointing to the comfortable-looking sofa in the corner of the parlour. "Megumi can take a nap, and you can relax."

You nod, grateful for the suggestion. "Thanks, Geto." 

You carry Megumi over to the couch and gently lay him down, his body stretched out on your lap. The parlour buzzes with its usual activity as you settle onto the couch, gently laying Megumi down on your lap.

His breathing evens out quickly, and you can feel his small body relax completely. Sukuna hands you your sketchbook with a wink, and you open it, immediately starting to doodle.

Yuji, never one to sit still for long, bounds over to Toji and Geto. "Hey, Toji! Hey, Geto!" he calls out, his eyes alight with curiosity. "Why do Suku and Y/N/N wrestle at night?"

Toji nearly spits out his drink, while Geto's face splits into a wide grin. "Wrestle, huh?" Geto muses, glancing over at Sukuna, who is now rubbing his temples in exasperation.

"Yeah! When I went into the room one time, they said they were wrestling," Yuji continues, unabashed as you stare at your sketchbook. "Sometimes I hear Y/N/N saying 'harder, harder,' and it sounds like Suku is hurting her. But she keeps asking for it!"

Toji is now outright cackling, his laughter echoing through the parlour. "Oh man, this kid is killing me," he wheezes, wiping tears from his eyes. Geto leans back, shaking his head with a broad grin on his face.

"Lord kill me now," You sigh.

Geto, still grinning, decides to chime in. "Yuji, when grown-ups say things like that, it's because they're playing a very private game. It's not something kids need to worry about."

Yuji seems to ponder this for a moment before coming up with another question. "But why does Y/N/N say it feels good, but then sometimes she tells Suku it's too big?"

Toji lets out another round of laughter, nearly falling out of his chair. "Kid, you're really something else."

You lift the still-sleeping Megumi into your arms, using his small body as a shield to hide your burning face. He wraps his arms around your neck, nuzzling into you sleepily. The warmth and weight of the little boy offer some comfort amidst the onslaught of Yuji's relentless questions.

Geto, equally entertained but trying to maintain a semblance of composure, adds, "Yuji, sometimes adults exaggerate when they're playing their games. It's all part of the fun."

Yuji, not entirely convinced, tilts his head. "But why does Suku tell Y/N/N to take it like a good girl? What is she taking?"

You can feel Sukuna's tension radiating as he rubs his temples more vigorously. "Yuji, we've told you—it's just a game for grown-ups. It's not something you need to understand right now."

"But if it's a game, why does it make so much noise?" Yuji presses on, his eyes wide and earnest.

Toji lets out another bellowing laugh, nearly sliding out of his chair. "Oh, this kid is gonna kill me! I've never laughed this hard in my life."

Geto, barely holding it together, shakes his head. "Yuji, some games are just noisy. It's part of the excitement."

Yuji pauses, considering this, before coming up with yet another question. "Okay, but why does (Y/N/N) sometimes say she can't take it anymore? And why does Suku tell her she can?"

Toji is now almost incoherent with laughter, his face red and eyes streaming with tears. "Oh, this is gold. Pure gold."

You clutch Megumi tighter, feeling his gentle, rhythmic breathing against your chest, wishing you could use him to disappear entirely. The mortification is palpable, but you can't help but laugh at the sheer absurdity of the situation.

"Yuji," Sukuna says, trying to keep his voice calm and steady despite the deep flush on his face, "sometimes people push each other to be better, to go further than they think they can. It's about encouragement."

Yuji's face lights up with understanding. "Oh, so it's like when you make me run faster during soccer practice because you know I can do it!"

Sukuna nods, grateful for the comparison. "Exactly. Just like that."

"But why does Y/N/N sometimes say 'more, more,' and then say 'no more'? Is it like when I want more ice cream but then my tummy hurts?"

Toji falls out of his chair, hitting the floor with a thud but still laughing hysterically. "I can't handle this kid! He's too much!"

Geto is barely holding himself together, his shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. "Yuji, it's a bit like that, yes. Sometimes people think they want more of something but then realize they need to slow down."

Yuji nods solemnly, taking in the explanation. "Okay, I think I get it. But what does Suku mean when he tells Y/N/N to 'ride it'? Do they have a secret pony?"

Toji's laughter reaches a new volume, and he starts wheezing, completely losing it. "Oh, man! I can't breathe!"

Geto leans back, wiping tears from his eyes, struggling to keep his composure. "Yuji, that's just more of the same game talk. It's all part of the... encouragement."

You bury your face in Megumi's hair, trying to hide your burning cheeks. "Yuji, maybe it's time to ask different questions."

Yuji looks thoughtful. "Why does Suku sometimes tell you to scream his name?"

Toji is now rolling on the floor, clutching his stomach and gasping for air between peals of laughter. "This kid! I can't take it!"

"I'm going to kill myself," You mutter.

You're at your wit's end, trying to maintain some semblance of composure while Yuji continues to ask questions that push the boundaries of your embarrassment. Megumi stirs slightly in your arms, murmuring something in his sleep, oblivious to the chaos unfolding around him.

Toji is still on the floor, laughing so hard that he's practically gasping for air. Geto, though struggling to keep a straight face, attempts to offer an explanation. "Yuji, sometimes people use words to describe how much they like something. It's like saying something is really good."

Yuji nods, apparently satisfied with this answer for a moment. "Okay, but why does Suku say Y/N/N is tight?"

Toji's laughter reaches a new crescendo, his face turning red as he clutches his stomach. "Oh, my sides! I can't breathe!"

Geto shakes his head, still chuckling. "Yuji, it's... um, it's a compliment. Like saying someone is really strong."

You bury your face in Megumi's hair, hoping to disappear entirely. "Yuji, maybe we should talk about something else."

Yuji, undeterred, furrows his brow in thought. "But what does it mean when Suku tells Y/N/N to take it all?"

Toji lets out another burst of laughter, slapping his knee as he struggles to regain his breath. "Oh, Yuji, you're killing me!"

Sukuna, who has been remarkably patient throughout this ordeal, finally intervenes. "Yuji, why don't we talk about something different? Like your favourite snacks or games?"

Yuji considers this for a moment, seeming to weigh his options. "Okay, Suku. But one last thing—why does (Y/N/N) sometimes call you daddy?"

"Seizure, seizure, seizure," You chant, looking at the ceiling, hoping that a seizure will take you out of this misery as Toji howls with laughter.

Sukuna moves to stand behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders as you continue to mutter prayers under your breath.

"Maybe don't wish for a seizure?" Sukuna suggests, squeezing your shoulders.

"It seems like the only option right now," You mutter. "A lot less traumatic"

Sukuna's hands tighten on your shoulders as he glances down at you, his eyes filled with a mix of amusement and sympathy. "It's not that bad, babe. We'll get through it."

Yuji, still curious, looks up at Sukuna with wide eyes. "So, why does Y/N/N call you daddy?"

Sukuna sighs deeply, rubbing his temples with one hand. "Yuji, it's just a nickname. It's something special between grown-ups."

Toji, recovering from his bout of laughter, wipes away tears. "Oh, this is too good. You two are never going to live this down."

"Do you want to die?" You glare at Toji. 

Toji, still laughing, holds up his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, I'm just enjoying the show. No harm done."

Geto smirks, leaning against the counter. "Yeah, you guys are providing top-tier entertainment today."

Sukuna shakes his head, giving you a reassuring squeeze. "Ignore them, babe. Let's get these kids fed."

You nod, lifting a still-drowsy Megumi into your arms as Sukuna takes Yuji's hand. "Alright, let's go get some burgers."

As you all head towards the door, Toji calls out, "Have fun, you guys! And Yuji, keep those questions coming."

Geto chuckles, adding, "Yeah, we need more laughs around here."

Yuji beams, clearly enjoying the attention. "Okay! I'll think of more questions for next time."

You groan inwardly but can't help but smile. "Please don't."

Outside, the sunlight feels warm on your skin, and the chaos of the tattoo parlour fades into the background. Yuji skips ahead, his boundless energy infectious, while Megumi rests his head on your shoulder, his small body relaxing against yours.

Sukuna walks beside you, his arm wrapped protectively around your waist. "You okay, baby?"

You nod, leaning into him. "Yeah, just mortified. But I'll survive."

He chuckles, kissing your temple. "You handled it like a champ."

Yuji looks back at you, his eyes wide with excitement. "Are we getting burgers now?"

"Yes, Yuji," Sukuna says with a laugh. "Burgers it is."

You head to a nearby burger joint, a place that's become a place you frequent. The kids immediately perk up at the sight of the colourful play area inside. Yuji practically drags Sukuna to the counter, while you find a booth and settle Megumi down, his eyes already lighting up at the sight of the menu.

Once you're all seated with your food, Yuji starts firing off more questions, thankfully this time about his favourite superheroes and cartoons. The conversation is lively and fun, a stark contrast to the earlier embarrassment.

As the kids dive into their meals, Sukuna leans over, his voice low and filled with affection. "I love you, babe. Thanks for putting up with all of this."

You smile, your heart swelling with love. "I love you too, Kuna. And I wouldn't trade this chaos for anything."

Yuji, overhearing, grins widely. "I love you too, (Y/N/N) and Suku!"

Megumi, with his mouth full of burger, nods. "Love you."

Sukuna laughs, ruffling Yuji's hair and giving Megumi a fond look. "Love you too, brats."

As you all finish your meal, you can't help but feel a deep sense of contentment. Despite the embarrassing questions and the chaos that often surrounds your life with Sukuna and the kids, these moments of love and laughter make it all worthwhile. And as you walk out of the burger joint, hand in hand with Sukuna, with Yuji skipping ahead and Megumi drowsily resting on your shoulder, you know that there's no place you'd rather be.

[formulas-bitch]

carlos sainz x media reporter/reader

1.4K words

The tension was palpable as the crowd roared, their voices a cacophony of excitement and anticipation. The F1 driver, clad in his signature red racing suit, stood at the starting line, his heart racing in tandem with the engines. He glanced over at the media reporter, her long brown hair dancing in the wind as she leaned against the barricade, her gaze fixed intently on him. Neither of them noticed the other, lost as they were in the thrill of the moment.

As the lights turned green, the driver's car lunged forward, tires squealing in protest. He weaved expertly through the pack, his muscles taut and his reflexes sharp. The reporter, meanwhile, dashed from barricade to barricade, her camera darting this way and that, capturing every breathtaking moment. The air crackled with the energy of their shared passion, and even from afar, they could feel their connection growing stronger.

After the race, as the driver climbed out of his car, sweat-drenched but triumphant, the reporter made her way through the throng of people toward him. She extended her hand, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Congratulations," she said, her voice husky with emotion. "That was an amazing race." He took her hand in his, feeling a spark of electricity course through him at her touch. "Thank you," he replied, his voice equally unsteady. "And thank you for being here today."

They exchanged numbers, promising to meet up later. As he drove away from the track, he couldn't help but wonder if this was the beginning of something truly special. Perhaps, against all odds, they could find a way to make their love work, despite the challenges that lay ahead. For now, though, he was content to bask in the afterglow of victory and the knowledge that she was out there, cheering him on.

Their first date was a whirlwind of laughter and conversation, as they found themselves unable to resist the pull of their shared interests. They talked about racing and media, of course, but also about their families, their dreams, and their fears. It was as if they had known each other for years, rather than just meeting for the first time. As the night wore on, their hands kept finding their way into each other's, a silent promise of where this could lead.

Their relationship moved quickly, fueled by their mutual passion and understanding. They traveled the world together, attending races and press conferences, always at their best when they were by each other's side. The world of F1 and media had never seen anything like it, and the attention they received was both a blessing and a curse. But they managed to navigate it together, always finding solace in each other's arms at the end of a long day.

As time went on, they faced their fair share of challenges. There were rumors and speculation about their relationship, and there were times when they doubted themselves and their future together. But through it all, they never lost sight of what was important: their love for each other and their unwavering support for one another. They knew that they were meant to be together, no matter what the world threw at them.

On a warm summer evening, under a star-filled sky, he got down on one knee and asked her to marry him. Of course, she said yes, her eyes shining with tears of joy. As they embraced, surrounded by the love and support of their families and friends, they knew that they were beginning a new chapter in their lives together. A chapter filled with love, adventure, and endless possibilities. And although the world of F1 and media would always be a part of them, they were determined to make their own story together, one that would stand the test of time.

Their wedding celebrated their unique bond, a union of two people who had found each other in the unlikeliest of places and refused to let anything come between them. The ceremony was small and intimate, with only their closest family and friends in attendance. The bride wore a simple yet elegant white dress, while the groom sported a crisp black tuxedo. As they exchanged vows, their hands clasped tightly together, their eyes never leaving each other, it was clear that their love was as strong as ever. " Carlos would you like to start with your vows please" asked the priest.

“I promise to stand by your side, to support and cherish you in all the seasons of our life together. I vow to be your confidant, your partner in adventure, and your comfort in times of sorrow. I promise to love you unconditionally, to respect and honor you, and to always strive to be the best version of myself for you. I look forward to a lifetime of laughter, love, and growing old together. With all my heart, From this day forward, I promise to love you with all the love I can muster. I vow to be your shelter in the storm, your confidant in moments of uncertainty, and your joy in times of celebration. I promise to cherish the uniqueness that you bring into my life and to build a future that is rich with happiness, laughter, and shared dreams. I commit to being faithful, patient, and understanding, and to always finding ways to express my love for you. With these words, and all the love in my heart, I take you as my wife, and I am honored to be called your husband.” Carlos spoke as he slipped Y/n's ring on her finger.

"Y/n you may say your vows now' spoke the priest

" I love you with my whole heart with a passion that can't be expressed in words, only in kisses, glances, and years of adventure by your side. I promise to be your honest, faithful, and loving wife for the rest of my days. I pledge to honor you, love you, and cherish you as my husband today and every day. Today I say, "I do" but to me that means, "I will." I will take your hand and stand by your side in the good and the bad. I dedicate myself to your happiness, success, and smile. I will love you forever. You are my every dream come true, and I can't wait for the reality we get to build together. I promise to be your guiding light in the darkness, a warming comfort in the cold, and a shoulder to lean on when life is too much to bear on your own. Give me your hand, and I will give you forever. You are loved more than any metaphor can ever try to express—my love, my husband. I vow to always protect you from harm, to stand with you against your troubles, and to look to you when I need protection. There is no remedy for love," says Thoreau, "but to love more". Today and forever, I will follow his advice and seek my remedy in your arms. You make me laugh, you make me think, and above all, you make me happy. I promise to be your navigator, best friend, and wife. I promise to honor, love, and cherish you through all life's adventures. Wherever we go, we'll go together. and I'm honored to be called your wife" Y/n spoke as she slipped Carlos's ring on his finger.

After the ceremony, they jetted off to their honeymoon, a romantic getaway to the French Riviera. The sunset kissed the water each evening as they dined on the balcony of their luxurious villa, sipping champagne and sharing stories of their past and dreams for the future. They took long walks on the beach, their feet buried in the warm sand, and explored the quaint towns that dotted the coastline. It was a perfect start to their new life together.

Once they returned from their honeymoon, they settled into a comfortable routine. He continued to race in F1, and she remained a prominent figure in the world of media. They made sure to keep their schedules balanced, ensuring that they always made time for each other. They even started a charity together, using their platforms to raise awareness for environmental issues and promote sustainable living. Their passion for each other and their shared causes only seemed to grow stronger with each passing year.

The years flew by, and their love story became the stuff of legends. They became an iconic couple, not only in the world of racing and media but also in popular culture. Fans around the world looked up to them as an example of what true love and commitment could achieve. They never hesitated to share their story with others, hoping that it might inspire others to find their own path to happiness.

[joelalorian]

Petals of Affection - Part I

A floral mystery in three parts featuring Jackson!Joel x f!reader

Summary: A secret admirer gifts you a different flower and a riddle ten times before you put the clues together and discover that he's been right in front of your face the whole time.

Written for @morallyinept's Flora & Fauna challenge. Please check out all the wonderful works created in Jett's honor!

I know enough about flowers to fill a thimble. Really, all I know is how to kill them, accidentally or otherwise. Everything to do with the flowers in this story is courtesy of Google, so please suspend disbelief at how some of these could exist in Wyoming, yada yada. I just picked ones that fit the narrative.

Word count: 4,284

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, humor, cursing, gratuitous use of poor floral descriptions, scheming, clueless reader, fluff, eventual smut, alcohol, food, coffee, terms of endearment. POV flops around like a fish outta water. Reader has no physical description aside from having hair that gets frizzy with humidity and often dirt-covered hands, because greenhouses, ya know? No use of y/n, none whatsoever.

Dividers courtesy of the wonderful @saradika-graphics. Gif chosen because of the wonderful floral wallpaper ;)

Hope you enjoy!

Part II | Part III | Masterlist

An oasis in a world rife with death and devastation, you clung to the life the reinforced walls of Jackson offered. After years of struggling to survive each new day, you felt like you could finally take a deep breath. Everyone was no nice and welcoming, some more than others, and you slipped right into the fabric of the small community.

Within a month of your arrival, Maria assigned you to the greenhouses, having picked up on your knowledge and love of plants – particularly flowers. You must have bored her to death one too many times regaling the language of flowers over a bottle or two of aged wine while seated together on her couch. The two of you became fast friends, the kind that felt like you’ve known each other forever. It was exactly what you needed, longed for even, after long bouts of solitude.

Being close to Maria meant you visited their house often. And equally often, you would find Joel Miller there, deep in conversation with his brother about one matter or another. His eyes always flashed when you entered the house, and he’d stop mid-sentence to greet you with an effortless, “Howdy darlin’” as you followed Maria to the kitchen.

Soon enough, the soft greetings turned into more substantial conversation as the four of you dined together or gathered at Maria and Tommy’s for game night, playing whatever new board game the men found while on patrol. Laughter and friendly arguments filled the air on those nights, making it easier than ever to forget about the carnage and desolation beyond the walls.

Tonight, the four of you played Scrabble – it took Tommy finding three sets of the game to get all the letter tiles required to actually play – and your belly hurt from how hard you laughed whenever Maria challenged Joel on a word. He was better at the game than you would have thought – his reserved nature and southern twang not giving away how well-read he was.

“Denied! Fartlek is not a word, Joel. There’s no way!” Maria insisted, not willing to give into Joel’s apparent triple word score on the word that would have him take the lead in total score.

“Is to a word,” Joel returned stubbornly, refusing to remove the letters from the board. “Look it up if ya don’t believe me. It’s in the fuckin’ Oxford dictionary.”

“Oh, it is, is it? Is it in the Cambridge one, too? What does it mean then?” Maria wasn’t backing down, ripping a battered dictionary right out of Tommy’s hands to see for herself.

“Hey! I was looking it up,” Tommy yelped, shooting a wink at you as you both watched the drama unfold.

Ignoring his brother, Joel rattled off something about the word being related to running. At least, that’s what you thought he said, you were too busy fighting back tears from laughing too hard. Sure enough, he was right.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Maria grumbled, flopping back into the couch cushions. “It’s a training technique for running. Screw you, Miller.”

Unsurprisingly, the game ended shortly thereafter with Joel the victor by a healthy margin. After helping to clean up, you offered appreciation and hugs to Maria and Tommy for a delightful evening. “Next time, let’s play something less…”

“Cerebral?” Maria supplied with a frown.

“Annoying?” Tommy interjected with a grin.

Joel stayed quiet, a half-smile gracing his lips as he waited for you to finish your sentence.

“Just something that doesn’t require a dictionary or cause so much arguing,” you laughed. Waving between Joel and Maria, you added, “You two can never agree on anything! See you all tomorrow.”

“I’ll walk you home, darlin’,” Joel said, rushing to put his jacket and boots on and catch up with you. When you opened your mouth to let him know you’d be fine on your own, he added, “Gotta check in on Ellie anyway.”

Maria and Tommy shared a look as Joel opened the door to usher you through. You caught them and frowned, feeling like you weren’t in on a joke or something.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence, the last remnants of winter’s snowy wrath crunching beneath your boots the only sound. You looked up at the night sky as you walked, gasping at the flash of colors in the otherwise darkened sky. Joel stopped, following your gaze upwards as you both stood mouths agape.

“That’s the northern lights, right? I’ve never seen it before.”

“Mmhmm. Aurora borealis. Pretty amazin’.”

“Beautiful,” you sighed, breath a cloud billowing in the crisp air, eyes soaking in every bit of the cosmic phenomenon.

You didn’t realize it staring up at the sky as you were, but Joel’s umber eyes were fixed on you when he replied, “Sure is.”

You stayed like, shoulders gently bumping as you both enjoyed nature’s show, until the temperature dropped further and you shivered. An awed smile remained plastered on your face the rest of the walk to your house, one Joel would never forget.

The dichotomy of the humid, warm air within the greenhouses and the chilled breeze outside confused your body, but you loved it. Sure, the humidity did nothing good for your hair, leaving it a frizzy mass around your head sometimes, but the dewy feeling on your skin always reminded you of childhood summers spent at the beach.

Tending to the various fruit and vegetable plants all morning, in what you deemed Greenhouse 1, you saved your favorite duties – the ones associated with flowers – for the afternoon. While you enjoyed caring for all the plants, you loved tending to the flowers, humming as you pruned and replanted clippings, expanding your every growing collection. If the patrol teams kept bringing you seeds and specimen back, you’d need yet another greenhouse. The council would just love that.

The creak of the door to Greenhouse Two drew your attention shortly after you switched gears and you stood, brushing the dirt from your jeans before glancing up. Your face shifted into a soft smile at the sight of Joel standing hesitantly just inside the door.

“Hey Joel, what did you bring me today?” You knew he had patrol duty and likely found some interesting plant during his travels. “Better not be western baneberry again. You know how poisonous those berries are!”

Stepping forward, Joel chuckled as you teased him. “I know now! It was one time and you’ll never let me live it down, will ya?” Thrusting his hand toward you, he dropped a small pile of seeds onto your dirt-covered palm. “Not sure what these are, but we found down by the ol’ mill. Might be something cool.”

“Might be,” you hummed, poking the seeds a little. Hopefully the cold didn’t get to them. You grabbed the nearest pot, quickly filled it with soil and sprinkled the seeds in as you tilled the top few inches. “We’ll find out soon enough what kind of treasure these are.”

Leaning back against a messy tabletop, hands on hips, Joel watched you tend to the new addition before finding the perfect place for the pot, nestled on a table amongst other seedlings. “Do you –”

Joel’s mouth snapped shut as the greenhouse door banged open next to him, a boisterous voice carrying into the warm space before its body did.

“Tangerine! Check out what I found today,” Alex, another member of the patrol team, called as he strolled right past Joel without acknowledgement. Younger and not as broad as Joel, the man held a growing affection for you, which irked the older man.

“Alex,” you sighed playfully. He was cute in a youthful, untrained puppy kind of way and had an annoying habit of calling you nicknames that made no sense. “I told you to stop calling me that. We don’t even have tangerines here.”

Snickering under his breath, Joel observed the younger man falling all over himself to impress you. Why you indulged the idiot, he would never understand.

Alex waved you off. “You love it, and you know it. Lookit here,” he said, thrusting his hand toward you. Slight though he was, Alex had large hands, and in his right one were three clusters of small, bell-shaped blooms with a purple hue.

“Prairie bluebell! Where did you find these?” Your face lit up as you took the blooms in a gentle grasp, admiring them for a moment before setting to work on replanting.

Alex prattled on boastfully about finding them just off a rocky path down near the river while Joel focused on watching you work. When Alex finally paused for breath, you chimed in with some flower lore.

“Did you know that bluebells are often called fairy flowers? It is said that the bluebells are rung to summon fairies to a meeting. But, since fairies aren’t always good, the flowers could be enchanted leaving anyone who wanders into a ring of bluebells lost in fairy woods.”

Joel snorted at the idea of Alex becoming lost in fairy woods, never to be found again. If only they could be so lucky, he thought. He knew there was more you could share about the symbolism of the delicate flowers, but it would be lost on someone like Alex.

Rolling his eyes, Joel was about to take his leave when Alex blurted, “Would you join me for dinner tonight? I heard they just got in some fresh venison.”

Absorbed in your work, you hardly heard him, and Alex repeated himself, a hint of annoyance in his tone. Joel froze, holding his breath in anticipation of your answer. Please say no, he thought. You could do so much better than this moron.

Brow furrowed, you stared at Alex, considering your response. “Like a date?”

The younger man nodded eagerly, a broad smile spreading across his lips. You glanced at Joel, not certain what you were hoping to see, and found him staring back, stone faced, arms crossed in front of his chest tightly. Giving you nothing to work with, your shoulders slumped, resigned. “Sure, I guess.”

Not the most enthusiastic answer, but you couldn’t remember the last time you went on a date and Alex was the only one asking.

You didn’t even realize Joel moved until the door closed heavily behind his retreating form.

The breeze carried a sense of change as you strolled home from your shift in the greenhouse. The weather was finally warming, ever so slightly, as Mother Nature loosened her grip on winter, letting spring slowly creep in.

Mixed emotions tumbled through your mind as your feet carried you through the streets of Jackson by muscle memory alone. Alex asking you to dinner caught you off guard – you had a feeling he was interested, but he never made any sort of bold move. The fact he finally did while Joel was standing right there threw you off balance.

Did you even like this guy?

Sure, Alex was attractive, with blonde hair, blue eyes, and tanned skin. But his personality made him seem more like a golden retriever, goofy and too eager to impress, than someone you could fall for. It made you wonder if there was any substance lurking under the surface.

In the absence of any other offers, did it even matter?

No, you guessed it really didn’t.

These thoughts carried you right to your front steps and you stopped, taken by the presence of something unusual waiting in front of your door.

A solitary stalk with a gorgeous jasmine bloom, a slip of paper wrapped around the stem held in place by nondescript string.

Picking it up, you held the flower to your nose, breathing in the rich, sensual aroma. The scent brightened your mood, and you slipped the scrap of paper from beneath the string. You whispered the words printed in a block scrawl you didn’t recognize.

Joyful moments shared; the answer lies in the air.

What did it mean?

Glancing around, you searched the street and neighboring homes for a sign of who might have left the flower and note for you. The only people in sight were your elderly neighbors, married couples, and the kids from a few houses down. None of them would have left you such a gift.

Who in the world left this for you?

Would Alex do something romantic like this? You doubted it, but what else did you have to go on?

Once inside, you trimmed the stem and put the flower in a container on the counter, placing the scrap of paper in front of it.

You gazed at the flower, mulling over the riddle before you. The note indicated that you’ve shared moments with whomever left the flower. Jasmine itself symbolized love and romance. You made friends with a lot of people since you came to town – too many shared experiences and moments to choose from.

Twenty minutes and too much thinking in circles, you were no closer to understanding the clues and teetering on the verge of being late for your date. You needed more data before hazarding any reasonable guesses.

“Why do you torture yourself like this?” Tommy questioned. Sitting at the bar watching his brother pining over you was not his idea of a fun Friday night. “You should just bite the bullet and ask her out already.”

Joel shook his head. He had no explanation for why he hadn’t made a move yet. For months now, he knew he liked you as more than friends, pined over you in silence, yet he never took the next step. Joel Miller was not a coward, but his fear of losing one of the few friends he had left in the world had him frozen in place, afraid to make any moves. He couldn’t take that chance. Finally putting words to the feelings roiling inside him, he told his brother as much.

“I get it, brother. I do,” Tommy replied, thumping Joel on the back in commiseration. “But can you really say you’re ok watchin’ her go on dates with asshats like Alex? ‘Cause that’s gonna keep happenin’ unless you do something about it. And I don’t mean killin’ the dude.”

Joel shook his head. Hunched over the bar, shooting surreptitious glances your way, he had to admit Tommy was right. He could think of few things worse than watching you go on a date with someone other than him, especially with dipshits like that guy.

“I ain’t killin’ anyone, but I do have a plan. Already put it in motion, in fact.” Picking at a scratch in the bar, Joel shifted his gaze from you to Tommy. “I might need your help with some of it. Maria’s too.”

“Oh yeah? Tell me all about this grand plan then.”

Unsurprisingly, the date was a dud.

Alex had the personality of a goldfish rather than a golden retriever, and the two of you had nothing in common. He also interrupted you mid-sentence no less than three times – once could be considered a mistake, but three times was an unforgiveable offense as far as you were concerned. You stopped making an effort about halfway through dinner and wished for a hole to open up beneath your seat and swallow you whole.

Worst of all, he acted like an entitled dickhead when you refused dessert, thanked him for the date, and let him know there wouldn’t be a second one. He’s lucky you didn’t knee him in the nuts before walking away from the table.

How unfortunate that dating sucked nearly as much now as it did before the fucking apocalypse. It was unfair, really. At what point did being a woman stop sucking?

Lamenting your lack of success in the relationship department, you trudged home. You wondered what Joel was up to – you caught a glimpse of him at the bar with Tommy earlier and he didn’t look happy, but you didn’t see him when you left. Part of you longed to visit him, maybe have a drink and sit on his porch gazing at the stars together like you’ve done before. But it was already late, and you didn’t want to bother him. Hell, he could have a woman over already, which would be mortifying if you interrupted. The thought sank unpleasantly in your mind until you got to your house and pushed it away.

A little gift waited for you on the porch, just like earlier. An orchid this time. Symbol of love, thoughtfulness, and charm. Your index finger traced the delicate petals with the gentlest touch as a smile slowly crept its way across your lips.

Another note was attached, and you plucked it from beneath the same kind of string, eyes devouring the words.

Overwhelmed by your grace, the answer hides in this place.

The flower wasn’t completely cold, so it had to have been left recently. Brow furrowed; you glanced around but there was no one in sight. You wracked your brain trying to figure out the identity of your secret admirer, but you were at a loss. Prior to dinner, you briefly thought Alex was the culprit, but now it was obvious he didn’t have a romantic bone in his lanky body.

You heart knew who it longed for it to be, but you refused to consider it. He didn’t want you that way, of that you were certain.

Giving the orchid the same treatment as the jasmine earlier, you tucked the stem into the same container and placed it on the coffee table so you could admire the blossoms while you fell asleep on the couch. After all, why bother with a big bed without someone to share it with?

Saturdays were your day off, but the sun shining through the curtains you forgot to close the night before ruined your plans of sleeping in. Grumbling at the unnecessary brightness, you stumbled into the kitchen desperate for coffee. The coffee tin felt light in your hand when you reached for it and, sure enough, you saw nothing but a tiny amount of powdery remains of coffee beans at the bottom.

God dammit. Barely eight o’clock in the morning and this day already had two strikes against it. It wasn’t looking good so far.

Not caring that you still wore the clothes from your date the night before, you quickly brushed your teeth and finger-combed your hair into submission before leaving the house. Pausing at the door for a moment, you debated whose house to go to. Joel always had coffee – it was his drug of choice – but Maria and Tommy were closer.

Not awake enough for decision-making, you let your feet carry you in whichever direction they wanted… which was exactly three feet onto the porch before they stopped. Another flower with a note sat waiting for you.

Your mood brightened considerably at the sight of the double-flowered, funnel-shaped Eustoma, petals a pale purple. The rose-like flowers weren’t native to Wyoming, but you got lucky months ago when someone found a seed packet. You were shocked the seeds were still viable. Did someone pluck it from the greenhouse? You gave away a few cuttings not that long ago, but unless they were replanted, there’s no way they’d last this long. It had to be from the greenhouse. Where the hell else would they get one?

The addiction-like need for coffee temporarily forgotten, you rubbed the Eustoma gently against your nose, confirming the lack of scent when you breathed in and wondered what the little note would say this time.

Endless thoughts of you, the answer is in the view.

Stepping back into the house, you added the flower with the others, mulling over the symbolism of the Eustoma. Whoever left it must be trying to tell you that they appreciate and admire you. But when you add it with the others, what did it all mean?

As good as you were with flowers, you were awful at solving mysteries. A detective you were not. Besides, it was still too early for this kind of puzzle.

The desire for coffee returned and you left the flower quandary behind as you made your way to Joel’s.

Joel didn’t expect to see you today, his day looking up when he opened the door to find you on his doorstep. His heart immediately sank when he noticed you wearing the same clothes from the night before, hair mussed.

“Your date must have gone well,” he said, eyes roving over your clothing, knowing his tone was less friendly than you were used to from him. “What are you doin’ here this early?”

You were clearly thrown off kilter by his remark, frowning as he stepped back to let you in.

“Wha—” you started to question him but shook your head. “I just came to see if you had any spare coffee. I ran out without realizing it.”

“Didn’t have any to offer Alex this morning? That’s a damn shame.” Joel felt the heat of your confused gaze on his back as you followed him into the kitchen.

“What are you talking about?” You sighed, staring at him with furrowed brows.

Avoiding your searching gaze, Joel poured a cup of coffee, adding the perfect amount of sugar you liked, and glowered at the cup as he handed it over. “You’re wearing the same clothes as last night. I assume you did the walk of shame this morning only to find you didn’t have any coffee.”

“It’s too early for your judgmental shit, Joel. You can be a real ass sometimes, you know that?” You turned to leave, mind trying to wrap itself around why this day was turning out so oddly. Mercury was in retrograde again, it had to be. You and Joel never spoke to each other like this. As you reached the door, not caring that you basically stole his coffee cup, you called over your shoulder, “And the date wasn’t even like that, for the record.”

“You’re welcome for the coffee,” Joel muttered as you let yourself out of his house.

“You didn’t have to be such a dick, you know.” Ellie appeared around the corner; arms crossed over her chest.

“I know. I couldn’t help it. The thought of her with that jackass just…” he sighed. “I got a little carried away, but it’s fine. The plan is still in play. Did you take care of what I asked you to?”

“You come up with some strange plans, old man. Yeah, I got it done.”

Fed up with the day and everyone in town before noon, you hid away in your house for the rest of the day. The interaction with Joel weighed on you the entire afternoon and well into the night. What was up with him? Were you being too sensitive, taking his comments personally?

If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was jealous you went on a date with Alex.

Unsurprisingly, you slept poorly and woke up groggy and unfocused Sunday morning. It was going to be a long day in the greenhouse if you didn’t find some coffee to power you up. Getting ready earlier than normal, you planned to stop at Maria and Tommy’s to see if they had coffee – there was no way you were going back to Joel’s after yesterday.

Opening the door to another brisk, early spring morning, the glint of sunlight on the porch drew your eyes to yet another flower waiting for you. Four in a row now, how long would this carry on for?

One of your favorites, you picked up the stalk with six lavender blossoms, violet in hue, and breathed in the fresh, light scent, savoring the sweet undertones. Fingers caressed the downy leaves, making you feel calmer, mellower, which was exactly what you needed.

You kept sniffing the floral scent as you read the accompanying note, finding it fitting.

 Lost in your scent, the answer is present.

“Tell me you have a secret admirer!”

Startled, you gasped, gaze shooting to Maria as she approached your house, two mugs of coffee in hand. You face shifted into a smile at the sight.

“I’m… um, I guess. I’m not sure?” You shrugged accepting the mug Maria held out toward you. “Thanks for this, I ran out.”

“I heard,” she replied. “Joel’s on the hunt for more, don’t worry.”

“Of course he is,” you rolled your eyes.

“Soooo…” Maria gestured to the flowers and note in your hand, seeking an explanation. “I feel like there’s a story here.”

“There is, I just don’t know what it is yet,” you admitted. Inhaling the calming scent of the lavender once again, you added, “This is the fourth one I’ve received. Each one has its own riddle. Let me show you.”

Leading the way into your house – you still had an hour before your shift started – you showed Maria the flowers and each note that accompanied them. In small print, you added what each flower symbolized to the corresponding note and numbered them in the order you received them, hoping every little detail would help you sort out the puzzle.

Maria looked over everything, smiling softly at each note. “Whoever this mystery man is, he’s quite romantic.”

“Right?”

“What do today’s flowers mean?”

“In the context of the rest of the flowers so far, love and devotion,” you replied, heat warming your cheeks.

Maria whistled softly. “Someone is down bad for you, girl. Any ideas who it could be?”

Shrugging defeatedly, you admitted, “Not a clue. The one person I’d want it to be would never do something like this.”

Maria hid a smile behind her mug as she sipped her coffee. “How can you be sure?”

tbc