#i thought about giving a flower in her hair and then i remembered she Is the size of a flower

[cassandragemini]

just realized i never posted this recent design sketch of jacinta on here. her design still a wip cause i feel like its fine for a late 19th century rural mexican woman but if you took away her wings and pointed ears then nothing about her clothes would signify that she a fairy. im still working that out and id appreciate any suggestions btw

[thekinslayed]

Forget-Me-Not

summary | Aemond's devotion for his wife deepens as they navigate her recovery together

pairing | aemond targaryen x wife!reader

tags | fluff, hurt/comfort, memory loss, injury, ooc aemond

wordcount | 2k

note | something short and sweet because i was inspired by the little crumb we got today <3 (here's some info on the flowers mentioned!)

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

song rec | My Jinji - Sunset Rollercoaster

(dividers by @saradika)

It was midday, and Aemond had been reading in their chambers after the council meeting when the door opened. She walked into the room and looked around, surprised as if unsure whether she was in the right place. She had been like this as of late, trying to grasp at her memories' first tingle of familiarity.

The prince’s lady wife had lost her memory when she fell off her horse during a riding accident. Her lord husband had been preoccupied with his duties on the King’s council, leaving her on her own most days. She took to the Kingswood with her Sworn Shield, relishing the feeling of the wind whipping at her face as they rode through the woods. Riding was something she had always loved to do as a girl, the memories of racing with her brothers through her homeland a sweet comfort to the foreign atmosphere in King’s Landing.

Perhaps she had gotten too excited, too greedy, when she urged her horse faster and faster until she disappeared from her knight’s midst. 

He had found her on the grass, horse nowhere to be found. It was unsure how the lady had fallen, but she had taken a great hit to her head from the impact. She looked like a forest nymph surrounded by bright flowers and green grass, hair falling around her like a halo, only if it weren’t for the streaks of blood that dripped down her temples.

When she had awakened, the princess was greeted by the sight of silver hair and a lone purple eye that watched her with worry. Her eyes shifted to the sapphire lodged into his other socket, curious as to how it got there. He was familiar to her, but she could not tell how she came to know him, her own husband. Aemond’s chest panged with hurt when his lady wife looked at him with a hazy confusion, her quaint voice muttering, “Who are you?”

Since that day, Aemond and his sweet wife had been on the path of trying to regain, or rather rebuild, her memories. 

“Hello,” She greeted him meekly. She was so shy to him now, much like she was before they were married. The princess had learned her husband loved her a great deal, and perhaps she shared a deep affection for him too, one that no amount of impact on her mind could erase. 

But how do you love a person you scarcely remember?

“Hello, my sweet,” He said to her softly. Aemond rose from his seat to approach her, giving her an embrace as he kissed her forehead. She timidly nuzzled into his arms, breathing in his scent. Teakwood and smoke, a scent that triggered a glimmer of familiarity in her otherwise foggy brain. She had made an effort to know her husband once more, making a mental list of what she liked about him.

'I like it when he holds me like this,' she thought, adding it to her list.

“Is everything alright?” He asked her, pulling away to look at her. Aemond ignored the slight twinge in his heart when she still regarded him with distance at times. He couldn’t find it within him to be cross with her, not when he blamed himself for her accident.

“I am alright, I tried to go for a walk in the gardens, but I… I’m afraid I cannot recall the way. A kind knight helped me back… one of the twins? Oh gods, I cannot remember his name either.” Her brows furrowed while she tried her hardest to remember the knight’s name. She bit her lip in concentration yet to no avail. 

“Ser Arryk?” Aemond hinted, to which she nodded in response.

“Right... Yes, Ser Arryk.” She trailed off, seemingly lost in thought. The dragon’s wife would often be like this as of late, a name or a scent would bring about hints of her past life, but as soon as she was able to grasp the memories in her hand, they would slip through her fingertips once more, lost in the blurry sea of her mind. With all her effort at trying to regain at least a single piece of memory, she found herself with headaches at the end of the day. It frustrated her to a great deal. 

Aemond knew how hard she struggled, and how much her memory weighed on her. It pained him to see her like this, even more, when he could do so little to help her. He tucked a loose hair behind her ear before cupping her chin. 

“Fret not, you will remember,” He reassured her, tone soft and warm.

“We will figure this out, you and I,” The prince promised her, the way he always did, with a determination in his voice and his heart. The idea that she might be lost forever terrified him, but she was still here, in his arms, and Aemond would have her any way he could.

“Thank you husband, for taking care of me,” She took this hand in hers, kissing the back of it in gratitude. At first, she had been wary of showing her affection, not quite remembering how. When she had seen how much Aemond cared for her and showered her with so much love, it didn’t take long for her to realize why her past self loved him greatly.

“Do you have time to walk in the gardens with me? I have been wanting for some fresh air,” She suggested shyly. She spoke so softly ever since the accident. When once she had been bubbly and exuberant, her wit had been replaced by a soft, yet curious wonder equal to that of a timid doe. 

“Of course,” Aemond replied, letting her take his hand in hers. He kissed her cheek, soft and sweet, a gentleness to him that was only ever reserved for her. “We can go anywhere you want.”

His lady wife let him lead the way to the gardens. As they walked, she tried her best to remember the twists and turns that led her down the steps of Maegor’s Holdfast. She realized the wrong turn she had earlier, which led her to another wing of the Keep where Ser Arryk had found her. 

“How pretty it is,” Aemond said as they entered the gardens. They welcomed the fresh air that breezed through the open space. The princess hummed in response as she felt a spark of familiarity in her chest of being in the gardens. What she did or who she was with, she could not recall, but that was alright. To see such things and be touched by the affinity of knowing was a good step forward.

They strolled through the gardens, the bright variety of flowers making her feel delighted to be surrounded by such beauty. She ran her fingertips on the ones that interested her, often stopping to smell some. Her eyes trained on a shrub filled with small, delicate blue flowers. 

As she stopped, her husband stopped right along with her. When Aemond turned to look at what his wife held in her hands, the sight of a familiar flower took him by surprise. Her favorite ones.

“Those are beautiful,” he said, with an amused smile. The blue spray of flowers was the same one he had gifted her throughout their courtship, a symbol of true and enduring love. 

His wife looked back at him with a familiar glint in her eyes. “They truly are, aren’t they?” She said, feeling the velvety surface of its petals against her fingertips. She hadn’t quite realized its significance to her and Aemond’s relationship, but she knew that she liked them.

“Do you know what they are called?” Her lord husband asked curiously. His good eye studied her face as she pondered, a glimmer of hope rose in his chest. 

“Forget-me-not,” She answered.

Aemond hummed in response, grinning with delight. They continued to walk hand-in-hand through the gardens, his lady wife swinging their hands. In any other case, he would not have allowed this, the formal man he was, but he let her, seeing the pleasant mood she was in. Conversation flowed between them, comfortable and light. The princess could sense when her husband would mention topics that could trigger her memory, and she tried to indulge him as much as she could. 

Aside from the couple that roamed the gardens, some lords and ladies of the court had also taken advantage of the pleasant weather. The sun shone brightly after days of cloudy gloom casting its shadow upon King’s Landing. 

The princess felt the stares at her and her husband, more so at her. She had been subject to their gazes ever since the incident. Most would look at her with pity for her circumstances, some with wonder as to how her and Aemond’s marriage still held strong. She did not miss the malicious stares from the ladies her age, no doubt thinking that the prince would soon tire of having to nurse his fragile wife.

Poor Prince Aemond, how ever could he endure having such a blank and empty shell of a wife?

The princess’ free had clutched Aemond’s arm, ducking her head with insecurity as they passed a group of nobles.

“They all stare,” she said lowly. Aemond sighed, caressing the back of her hand on his elbow comfortingly. 

“They do,” he said softly. He gave a sharp stare to the people they passed, leading his wife away. It was difficult to discount the looks they gave her, reminding him of his own experience when he had lost his eye. It angered him that they’d be so unkind to his wife, after all she’d been through. “We cannot worry about what they think of us, my love,” he comforted her.

She merely hummed in response, somewhat unconvinced. They continued their walk with her head ducked low, her bright spirit from earlier now dissipated.

Aemond led her to a secluded area, where they sat on a stone bench overlooking Blackwater Bay. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close to plant a kiss on her forehead. “You must not let them bother you, dear wife,” he said against her skin. His wife let out a heavy sigh, leaning her head against his. 

“Do you not think of me a burden?” She mumbled, fingertips toying with the ends of his starlit hair. The guilt she felt for having imposed such an inconvenience on her lord husband weighed on her heavily. He was a prince of the realm, and he had no time to play healer to his own wife.

“No, never,” He emphasized, looking down to meet her eye. A large, calloused hand cupped her jaw. His thumb caressed her cheek while she leaned into his touch. 

“The circumstances given to us may not be the most favourable, yes, but I almost lost you, my love. I would have fought the Stranger with my own sword to have you returned to my side,” Aemond professed. Tears pricked at the corner of his wife’s eyes, her lips quivered from his overwhelming love. A single tear trailed down her cheek but was wiped away in haste by the prince’s thumb.

“What anyone else thinks or feels about you is not our concern. You are my concern,” he asserted, staring at her with adoration. The princess sniffled, before nodding to her husband, a whisper of thanks falling from her lips. Her eyes met his amethyst one, committing the sight of him lovingly in her memory. 

Hesitantly, she reached a hand to cup his cheek, before leaning forward to plant a soft peck on his lips. She liked the feeling of his lips, she decided. Her lips planted another kiss on his once more, deep and passionate. They kissed until she was out of breath, having to place a hand on her chest, panting.

In the following days, the princess awakened to a vase filled with blue forget-me-nots on her bedside table. She spent her time by her husband’s side, and when he was away she would indulge in different pursuits that pleased her. Fragments of her past had started to return to her, while some would forever be lost. She did not mourn this loss, for she had found that the new ones she shared with Aemond were filled with the same fondness. Falling for her husband the second time around did not require great difficulty to achieve, not when he made it so easy for her to love him.

[historiaxvanserra]

Whatever Our Souls Are Made Of

Pairing: SingleDad!Rhys x Reader

Summary: After his mate and the mother of his son abandons them, The High Lord and Nyx are left alone and wanting.

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: allusions to sexual assault, allusions to depression, abandonment, broken homes (y'know keeping it light, in all seriousness this is not all angst it's quite sweet actually).

The sky is painted in hues of lavender and mauve and the flowering ivory clouds shade Velaris in a perpetual state of dusk. The silvery light of the waxing moon seems to cast you in a gentle opal light as you approach the opulent manor. The High Lord’s townhouse is nestled in the heart of the city of starlight and wreathed in the colors of twilight; a slate facade that looks as though it is crowned in green, climbing ivy and night-blooming jasmine frame the large bay windows on the ground floor. From here you can see the large stained-glass window on the top floor, light refracts and it casts a myriad of dancing light onto the stone below-- dappled pinks and roses that fracture and give way to amethyst and indigo.

You spare a look to your aged companion as she breaches the threshold of the High Lord’s residence and, on unsteady feet, approaches the ornate wooden door and knocks thrice. 

You remain for a moment a solitary figure at the entryway of the property, contemplating the series of events that led you here. Mother above, you chastise yourself. The thought occurs to you then, that perhaps you had made a mistake in coming here; that you should have given yourself more time, that you should have remained in the quiet solitude of the library where the world seems like a bitter memory. 

“Come, girl.” Madja’s voice is tired and impatient as she beckons you closer with the wave of a crooked finger. “Don’t just stand there.” 

You swallow thickly, bowing your head in obedience and you notice how her eyes soften as you approach the door tentatively.

“Nervous?” the old woman asks, you feel her eyes on you-- examining and critical.

“A little,” You admit, eyes downcast as you loose a shaky breath, “I haven’t left the library besides for training in quite some time.”

You stare down at the sleeves of your faded pewter robes as they billow in the evening breeze; the silver embroidery around the cuffs has begun to fray and the layers of fabric gather about your waist, the pleats have been poorly ironed and the heavy fabric falls over the curve of your hip haphazardly and pools to the floor in a swathe of heavy cotton. Shame pools in your stomach at the sight of your slippers as they peek out from the skirts of your robe. 

It’s about time you asked Clotho for a new set of robes you think. 

“You’ve met him before, no?” Madja’s voice breaks the tenuous peace you have found in those moments. You look up at her and a deep set frown graces her weathered face, “when you first came to Velaris?”

The visions fall on you like night; the Moonstone Palace saturated in onyx and jade, the reflections of your face in the marble of the throne room floor, the sentries as they dragged you before the High Council. The sounds of your screams and a sea of rubies and pearls as the bodice of your dress is torn away from your heaving chest-- all that red. Terrible and red. 

Hewn City had always been cruel to you. You, a useless daughter to an ambitious man. The dreams are less vivid now but the sound of footsteps on marble still haunts you. 

“Yes, it was him who brought me to Velaris-- after-afterwards,” You acquiesce to her questioning, eyes set on the light beyond the frosted glass panes of the onyx doorway, “though I doubt he remembers.”

Your avenging angel.

Madja looks at you carefully, taking account of you before she nods to you in silent acknowledgement. 

The door to the High Lords townhouse opens with a flourish to reveal Morrigan. She’s more beautiful than you remember, radiant even as the dark shadows of sleep cling to her. Her golden hair hangs in loose waves over the delicate curve of her shoulder and though the deep umber of her eyes meets yours in a warm inviting stare as she utters your name. 

She knows your name. 

“Come on in from the cold.” she beckons you with the curve of a slender hand. You smile politely as you cross the threshold of the house. The wards fall away as you pass through into the foyer and the smell of mandarin and night blooming jasmine flood your senses. 

The foyer to the townhouse is truly beautiful; a testament to the fine artistry and craftsmanship that seemed to define Velaris’ art district. The walls are paneled wood, painted in a shade of twilight that can only be found here, in The Night Court, and the burgundy carpet so rich in color that it reminds you of a blood moon, the oil paintings that hang on the walls seem to exude an air of majesty unlike anything you’ve ever seen. 

In this room night reigns triumphant and you behold it all with a sense of wonder and awe. A careful deference to the love and care contained between these walls. It is a home that has been truly cherished by the people that live here. 

“Did Madja tell you why you had been summoned here?” Morrigan’s voice is soft and sweet and the feeling of her hand on your robed arm pulls you from your thoughts. 

“Sorry - I - uh” I stutter, glancing between her hand on my arm and the unyielding warmth of her gaze. “No she didn’t, only that there was a position in the High Lord’s household that Clotho recommended me for.”

“It was my recommendation actually,” Morrigan smiles proudly, letting her hand drop to her side idly. “Clotho just happened to agree.” The words leave her lips with the ghost of a smirk as she recalls the conversation between her and the High Priestess.

The last time you had spoken to Morrigan would have been in Hewn City, all those years ago. You abandon yourself to those days; when you had been the cursed daughter of a capricious Lord. The girl you were died under that mountain. The woman that stands in her place had been forged of blood, and splintered bone-- made strong by violence and tempered by time.

You nod solemnly and cast a glance to Madja who watches on in quiet curiosity. 

“Rhys is upstairs,” Morrigan says softly to you both, gesturing up the staircase to the upper level of the house, “I’ll fetch him down”. 

You notice then how troubled Mor looks. The rings around her eyes are pale purple and blue and her skin, once radiant, has become pale and sallow. She begins her ascent up the stairs with a small wave of her hand signaling Madja to follow. From here you can see a singular light that pierces through the blanket of the dark that shrouds the upper levels of the house.

Mor regards you once more as Madja passes her on the stairs and points towards the ornate door that leads to the antechamber at the heart of the house. “Go on in, we won’t be a moment.” In a flourish of golden blonde hair and crimson Morrigan winnows away and leaves you to linger in the foyer for a quiet moment. 

The smell of cherries and marigold shades the air in her absence.

Voices, disembodied and distant from the upper levels of the house draw you into the heart of the house.

The antechamber of the High Lords townhouse is a beautiful living room, plunged into near darkness spare the slivers of jade light that dapple the dark walls from the emerald chandelier, even in the darkness you can make out the dark marble of the hearth that is draped with moonflowers and ivy. The low backed chairs are elegant and worn from use and there are books strewn about the room and a small library contained neatly in the alcove. 

Your eyes find the painting hung above the hearth; immortalized on oil and canvas the High Lord of Night and his Lady. The High Lord is painted in a deep navy tunic and the silver paint mimics the delicate embroidery favored by the Velarian tailors in The Rainbow. His violet eyes shine bright against the dark. 

He is a thing of dark beauty, you think.

In this light, his High Lady looks as though she is wreathed in starlight as smiles down on the antechamber from her place above the hearth. You observe the pointed curve of her nose and the upturn of her cerulean eyes and something aching and jealous festers in you at the sight of her beauty. 

Otherworldly and ethereal.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” The low tenor of a man calls out from the darkness of the room, the voice is measured and devoid of any emotion as it permeates the dark. The male cuts an intimidating figure in the low light and all thought and sound eddies from your mind. You’re sure the sound of your heart like an echoing war drum is loud enough to shake the mountains as he takes a step towards you.

“High Lord?” you question. He steps further into the light and you regard him pensively; his skin is pallid and his eyes are ringed with dark circles of amethyst that trouble you. His onyx hair is left tousled and the ends have grown long enough to curl away from the harsh lines of his face. The sharp junction of his jaw has become obscured by the smatterings of coarse, black hair that grow there.

Even still, even in the unforgiving jade light, he is the most beautiful male you have ever seen. He smells of night blooming jasmine and violets undercut with something inherently masculine. Pine and whiskey perhaps. 

His presence is something truly captivating; dark and intoxicating. When he looks at you there is only dark in those violet eyes. 

The High Lord sinks into the worn armchair by the hearth with a deep sigh and for a moment he allows his eyes to flutter closed as he breathes deeply and all you can do is surrender yourself to that dark magnetism. The dying fire in the hearth warms him and in this light you notice the golden hues of his skin and the dark inky trails tattooed across the planes of his chest where his shirt opens. 

“You’re staring--” The High Lord’s violet eyes falls onto you. In those liminal spaces between the seconds, when he is looking at you, all ceases to be. You tilt your chin downwards, hoping to avert his gaze, as you offer him a courteous bow. 

“My apologies High L-” the apology is cut off by the High Lords gentle protests. None of that, Love.

You pray to the mother that he doesn’t notice the flush along the tops of your cheeks or the wild fluttering of your heart at the pet name.

“Sit down,” The High Lord gestures simply to the seat across from him by the hearth and his whole demeanor is somehow softer when you deign to look at him again. Wordlessly you comply with his request, a careful hand runs down the length of your robes to smooth out the lazy pleats in the skirt as they fan out around you in the low backed chair and while you don’t dare to meet his eyes directly you can feel him looking at you.

    “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologizes though his voice is distant, despondent even and his eyes find the painting that looms over the hearth. “The portrait-- It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” He muses, tipping the rim of his whiskey glass towards the portrait. 

“Very beautiful, High Lord.” you agree, smoothing the heavy material of your robes again. He watches you then with a curious glint in his eyes and he takes a few moments to assess you.

“Just Rhysand will do,” He smiles lightly, though there's a sense of apprehension as he regards you playing with the threads of your sleeves for the third time in so many moments, “there’s no need for such formalities when it’s just the two of us.” 

“No of course not,” You agree and look at him through thick lashes and offer him a small smile in return, “forgive me, I’m--” you extend a hand to him over the small end table between the arm chairs and he takes it in earnest shaking it lightly. A calloused pad of his thumb rubs an absentminded circle into the skin of your hand before he brings your hand, trembling and slender, to the sulk of his lips and places a chaste kiss against the knuckles. 

“I know who you are, Priestess,” he says lightly-- playfully. You offer him a polite laugh in return and nod your head again. 

Something dark burns in his eyes in those moments; silver and violet. Like the darkness between the stars. He smiles to himself then, a soft beautiful thing. A secret shared between him and the dying light in the hearth as he picks at an errant threat on the stitching of his shirt.

“Why am I here, Rhysand?” You ask, inhaling deeply, hoping that his answer might assuage the anxiety that has been coiling in your stomach all afternoon. The door to the antechamber opens then and light, golden and radiant spills into the room all at once. The radiant light reveals the room to you fully, you observe the emerald velvet chairs and the dark wood furnishings, the landscapes hung on the walls and the rare manuscripts and novels bound all in black that line the walls. 

This house is something truly breathtaking. 

It feels like a home you realize. 

“There you are!” Morrigan's velvet voice smothers the morose tension in the room as she comes into view. She’s since shed the tiredness that plagued her before and you notice the way her hair frames her face like a halo of gold in the soft ochre light. In her arms, swaddled in sapphire spider silk, is the High Lord’s son. 

“We were beginning to wonder where you had gone.” Mor coos at the bundle in her arms as she approaches Rhysand who takes the babe in his strong arms. 

As if he could get any more beautiful-- the man looks as though he was carved by The Mother. 

It’s wrong, you know. He is your High Lord and you are…

The cursed daughter of a capricious Lord, you remind yourself.

Rhysand glances at me hesitantly and I meet his eyes briefly before focusing on the babe in his arms. He’s since broken loose from the swaddling and his chubby fist clutches at his fathers shirt. I can just see the top of his little head, it's all tufts of curly blue-black hair and pointed pink ears. You smile fondly to yourself as he continues to wriggle in his father’s grasp. 

Gods, it’s been so long since you had smiled that wide without the feeling of guilt that usually attends it. 

“You used to be a governess, didn’t you?” Mor says by way of explanation for your summons. To her credit her smile never falters even as your demeanor hardens against her, “Clotho said you had talked about it a few times.” 

“Yes. I was,” You admit swallowing thickly, your voice comes out strained like the words themselves pain you to speak, “that was a long time ago though.”

That had been long before him. 

You must have only been a youngling yourself. You had been happy-- that much you remember. Those were the happy recollections of your old life; summers spent under the opal lights of The Moonstone place, children’s laughter like birdsong that breaks apart in the humid air as you danced and sang long into the nights. Of dark autumns and smoky air, a bonfire and a small hand that holds your own with such gentle reverence. 

“Clotho said you wanted to leave the Library?” Rhysand questions you, his eyes are dark and filled with a thinly veiled darkness that draws you into their depths as you speak to him without pretense. 

“I do,” You answer him honestly, your voice wavering only a little, “I don’t want to spend my days rotting in the depths of that House.”

Rhysand considers it carefully and his face twists into a pained expression that almost breaks your resolve. You hadn’t meant to hurt him-- never. But you’re done hiding in the dark. 

The world is a cruel place and full of cruel men. It always had been and it always will be. There is nought you can do to change that. So why should you cower from the world any longer? 

You want to live. 

The whining of the restless babe in Rhys’ arms rouses your attention and something akin to longing gathers in your chest as you regard him. You pull a lip between your teeth as he fusses and Rhysand struggles to soothe him. The babe looses a cry that comes out as a pitiful howl and you can feel a small ripple of power permeate the air.

“May I hold him?” The words take everyone in the room by surprise and the High Lord only nods easily and stands to pass the babe into your arms.

“I’m grateful,” You continue as Rhysand stands before you and transfers his son’s weight into the crook of your arm, “To you and your court for providing me, and girls like me with somewhere to heal but--” 

“But you weren’t meant to cower in the darkness of the library forever.” Rhysand’s words come out as little more than a whisper and the feeling of his warm breath on your skin is something entirely perverse. 

You shake your head, mouthing an inaudible ‘no’ before lowering yourself back into the chair by the hearth, hoping to hide the rosy blush that spreads across your cheeks. Rhys doesn’t retreat back into his armchair like you had thought he might and instead sinks to his knees before you and allows one of his son's fists to wrap around his ring finger. The babe seems to quieten then in your arms as he nuzzles against your chest, one balled first clinging to his father and the other pulling at the neckline of your robes and he smiles sleepily in your arms.

Looking at him now you are overcome with the realization of the absence that had stained this family’s happiness. Rhysand had given himself completely to a woman who had changed her mind. And their son-- their son; all cherub cheeked and big blue eyes framed with dark lashes-- had been abandoned by the woman who was supposed to love him without condition. Before the ghost of her had been an abstract thing. Something intangible and errant, a whisper or a memory, but now, as you look between the babe in your arms and the woman immortalized about the hearth you feel nothing but biting fury. A dangerous wrath only tempered by the stilling of the High Lord beside you. 

It is Morrigan’s movement at the side of the room that rouses you from thought. “Then perhaps we can come to an arrangement?” The smile that graces her lips is brilliant and calculating and the sparkle in those umber eyes tells you she is genuine in his intentions.

“An arrangement?” You ask hesitantly, raising one arched brow to her. 

“Yes.” The High Lord nods in agreement as Morrigan approaches you all casually, sauntering over to snatch a glass of wine from the decanter, “you’re free to leave the Library at any time but--”

“Help me take care of Nyx,” The High Lord beats you to it, his voice is soft and gentle and one of his fingers runs along the curve of Nyx’s ear as he begins to doze in your arms. 

“High Lor-” You start, and you’re torn between declining outright and trying to dissuade them altogether, “Mor, I haven’t cared for a babe in well over 60 years.”

“Listen to me,” Rhysand’s violet gaze is unyielding and when you can no longer avert his gaze he takes on of your hands in his own and all but pleads with you,  “take care of Nyx, for one year-- just until I get used to doing it on my own-- just until he starts his pre-schooling.” 

The thought of him raising his son all alone pains you, a physical, bone deep ache that settles over you. You mourn for him then, for the love he thought he had, for all that he lost and then you mourn for the babe in your arms. For the son who will grow up without knowing his mother’s love. The High Lord looks at you through dark lashes and you note the tiredness in his eyes and the desperate sadness that seems to radiate from him these days and yet, he smile softly at you. As one might smile at something lovely and precious. 

“And in return?” You ask peering down at him with sympathetic eyes when his whole body goes lax.

“I’ll help you get set up somewhere-- anywhere you want.” The words come quickly and if you were a cruel woman you would see what more he would offer you. But when he’s looking at you like you might just be his last hope you can’t find it in you to do anything but allow yourself to be persuaded by him.

You see a home; a cottage maybe, made of ancient stone and covered with climing ivy and jasmine. On the outskirts of Velaris, away from the artisans and market stalls of the main square, but close enough that you never feel truly alone. A home and it smells of mandarin and moonflowers, the sound of children laughing, and a garden blooming with violets in the garden in the leonine yellow heat of high summer. You smile wistfully and you swear you feel the gentle caress of a hand in your mind's eye. 

“You can live here with us in the meantime” Rhysand continues gesturing to the house around you. 

It’s warm and inviting and your body sings in response to the prospect. 

“I don’t think that's a good--” 

“Just until you find somewhere of your own.” He assures you standing to his full height before you. He casts a morose glance to the portrait that hangs about the hearth and you can see the moment his violet eyes meet painted cerulean. 

“Rhys--” You warn gently. 

“Please,” He turns to you again and the desperation in his tone has you yielding to him further, a gentle sweep over your face before settling on the sleeping babe in your arms, “please.” He repeats it once more and you swear your heart breaks just a little bit for him. 

He had saved you once, you think. You had only been a girl then but you remember looking at him in that light; he looked like the shadow of some dark winged God-- avenging and angelic.

Perhaps this time the girl can save the God.

“A bargain then.” You muse lightly holding out a pinky finger to him.

Rhysand huffs out a laugh and curls his finger around your own. Nyx’s hand seems to flex in response, his own tiny pinky finger outstretched in agreement. 

“A bargain.” With the simple confirmation you feel the gentle burn of a promise as it kisses its way up your wrist, and you see Rhysand’s own inky sigil as it glows faintly on the skin of his outstretched arm.

[lazyjellyfish300]

Gentleman part 2 🌼💌

GeneticistCEO!Miguel O'Hara x Fem Intern College Student!Reader

Synopsis: after receiving a generous gift from Dr. O'Hara, you intend to thank him the next day. Word count: 5.8k

A/N: a little Fifty Shades of Grey inspired with the whole document situation. Here's what Dr. O'Hara looks like btw. 🫶🏽

TW: MINORS DNI, suggestive (no smut but talk of sex, alludes to sex), heavy kissing, bullying, little angst, some controlling behavior, Sugar daddy relationship, ooc Miguel , boss/employee relationship, I don't condone IRL

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4

@scaleniusrm @laysmt @to-the-endoftheline @oharasfilipinawife

------

You feel like you're floating as you read the note over and over again etching every curve and spike of Dr. O'Hara's messy signature on the card into your memory. You lean in, smelling the gorgeous flowers, closing your eyes, a warm feeling making itself known in your chest. This truly felt like a dream come true. The way this went from one of your worst days to the best in a matter of hours. This mysterious, handsome scientist being the cause. Everything about your life changed in a matter of minutes. You were going to go to bed hungry, and instead woke up to a 5 star meal and your favorite flowers.

"What is that?" Isla asks sharply, causing you to spin around, tucking the card under your arm. 

"Nothing.....just-ah...some flowers....and food."

"What the...." She takes a step closer, scanning you suspiciously. She smirks, "I didn't know you had a boyfriend." 

You feel your face heat up and try to shuffle away quickly in annoyance. She takes note of the way you're turned away, trying to conceal the card and who it's from. 

"Well come on, who is it?" She presses. Heather and Vivian walk up and stand next to her in mutual curiousity. 

"He's....um.....Greg?" 

"Greg?" 

"You don't know him." With that, you bolt for your room, leaving your roommates with raised eyebrows and suspicions. 

You lock your bedroom door behind you and place the takeout bag on your bed, first arranging your new flowers on the windowsill in a vase before you dig in. When you open the bag, there's three different entrees of your favorite things to order from the restaurant, two of your favorite appetizers, two desserts, and two large to-go cups filled with two of your favorite beverages and those delightful pebble ice cubes that gave that satisfying crunch and sounded so heavenly when it clattered against the plastic. 

As you took your first few bites of the piping hot food, you leaned back in your bed with a sigh of contentment. You could probably die and go to heaven with how delicious everything was, your belly and your bank account nice and full.

You stood up and changed into your favorite pajamas and lounge wear, putting a show to watch on your phone while you continued to eat to your heart's content with your gorgeous bouquet as the perfect backdrop against the setting sun outside your dorm window. 

-------

The next morning, you woke up, deciding that you'll get to Alchemax bright and early to give Dr. O'Hara a proper thank you. You figured this would be a one time thing and nothing you could do would be enough to pay him back, not to mention the moral implications of a manager doing this for one of his interns. He really put it all out there for you and you didn't want it to go unacknowledged. 

You wrote out a heartfelt letter on some notebook paper and grabbed a poppyseed muffin from the common area and hoped that he'd appreciate the thought behind it. You did your hair, dressing in one of your nicer outfits, makeup just the way you liked it and walked out the door with a spring in your step. 

-----

Alchemax 

Miguel took a generous sip from his coffee mug. It had a picture of him and Gabi as stick figures that she drew in preschool as the custom design he had printed on the mug. He looked at it fondly with a little smile as he remembered his reason for it all. 

His eyes widened when he saw you standing at his desk, a muffin in a brown paper bag and a note in your hands. 

"Buenos Dias." (Good morning) He said pleasantly. 

You smiled at him, your heart pattering in your chest a little bit now. "Good Morning..." 

The way you finished your greeting made it sound like you had something else to say.  Miguel waited, his face a little unreadable as he left the floor open for you to continue your thought. 

You clear your throat. "I just wanted to thank you, for everything you did for me yesterday. It's-uh. It's just unbelievable and...and I don't know how I could possibly p-pay you back..." 

You reach out, offering him the note and the muffin. "I wanted you to have these..." 

Miguel's eyebrow raises. 

"I-I know it's not a lot....heh. It's absolutely nothing compared to what you've done for me...but it was the least I could do." 

Miguel hums and sets down his mug, taking the note and the muffin. "You're welcome...and thank you, for this..." He peers inside the paper bag. "Poppyseed?" 

You nod, absentmindedly fiddling with your fingers out of nervous habit. 

"One of my favorites." He says with a little smile. However the smile quickly disappears as he walks past you to his desk. "I'm going to have you work with Dr. Drew and the junior intern group from now on." 

"Dr. Drew?" You give him a confused look. "But, I thought..." 

"I have something different in mind for you." He said shortly, sitting down and opening his laptop, peering over his glasses. "I believe Jess's direction will be better suited for your needs. Her group has an opening anyway." 

You feel your stomach flop. This was unexpected and you didn't have anything against Dr. Drew, but Dr. O'Hara's group was extremely hard to get onto and this was basically a demotion. Senior Intern just looked that much more attractive on your resume. You were startled at having this change so quickly, uncertain what this would mean for your career and the impression it would leave on your transcript. 

"Doctor...with all due respect." You said slowly. "I wanted to be on your team. I mean, I wrote that thesis, I collaborated on that project last year with Dr. Parker and I really really worked my tail off..." You feel a lump in your throat. "Please don't take me off your team." 

Dr. O'Hara looks up at you a little sternly from his desk, "I understand your concern, but trust me, this will be a better move for both of us. Jess is a brilliant scientist. One of my best. She will lead you better than I." 

"Is...does this have anything to do with what you did for me..?" 

Miguel cuts you off, a little harshly this time, saying your name in a firm tone. "Please. Do not argue with me. She's already expecting you and doesn't like to be kept waiting." 

You take a step back, a little alarmed and immediately regretful at pushing back. You turn around quickly, walking swiftly towards Jess's office without another word. 

-----

Dr. Jess Drew has a lovely smile for you when she sees you walk in. "Hello! Remind me of your name?" 

You give it to her and humbly enter the lab, a tall, young looking blonde with one side of her head shaved with the tips dyed pink, and another tall young man with curly dark hair are handling some lab chemicals with safety goggles on their faces, stepping back as the concotion begins to fizz. 

"Gwen and Miles here are studying chemical reactions. You'll help me supervise them." 

You nod, returning the kind smiles that they both offer you, before they go back to their discussion.  

"So, Miguel tells me you are studying Bio?" Jess asks, trying to start up conversation. 

"That's correct." 

"Wow, and you're going to apply to medical school?" 

You nod again. Jess smiles, impressed. "Well, good for you, girl. An Alchemax internship will definitely make you stand out." 

You give her a weak smile. "I hope so...to be honest with you, I didn't see this coming. I was kind of expecting to stay with Dr. O'Hara's group until December, then I could be eligible to apply for a full time position." 

Jess nods in understanding, a sympathetic hand on your shoulder. "Well, I've known Dr. O'Hara for over a decade now. If he made any changes, it's for good reason and probably best for your individual career path. Can't argue with the CEO." 

"CEO?" Your ears perk up. 

 "Oh..." Jess gives you a little embarrassed smile, nodding towards Gwen and Miles as she motions for you to join her a little further away out of earshot.

"Yeah...he recently started the whole internship program and likes to be hands on with up and coming scientists, so they're fully prepared to work under him and meet his standards. He hates it when people bring up his status as CEO. He just is under a lot of scrutiny and dislikes media coverage in general, so he keeps quiet about it...don't tell anyone I told you that." She murmurs to you with a wink. 

Finally, it all makes sense. The money, the lavish gifts, how powerful he was. It made sense Miguel was the elusive CEO of Alchemax that liked to hide from the public eye, despite Alchemax's blaring position in the limelight as the cutting edge of innovation for science and tech. A crowning jewel for the economy of Nueva York, putting them on the map as a technological hub and source of income for over 200,000 employees. 

You nod and go back to helping Jess, Miles and Gwen, continuing to work while being unable to get Dr. O'Hara to leave the back of your mind.

----- 

When it's time to leave and go to lunch, Jess stops you after Gwen and Miles had already left. "Hold on a sec!" 

Jess hands you a small white card with elegant gold trim around the edges. 

"You're wanted in the executive suite for lunch. Floor 99. And the code is written down here." She points to the neatly printed black numbers on the card.

"Now, this is important. You are forbidden to share this code with anyone, let alone tell anyone you were up there this afternoon. Got it?" Jess lowers her voice. 

"For-bidden. Meaning if you tell anyone, not only are you fired, but I am too, because I was the one who gave it to you. And I have no problem hunting you down... got it?" She shoots you a warm smile. 

You smile back, understanding she's mainly joking, but just trying to emphasize the importance of keeping it confidential and covering herself. You nod. "Absolutely...I'll, I'll guard it with my life." 

"Atta girl." 

You smile and walk out to the hall towards the elevators, impossibly wondering why on Earth your presence was needed in the part of the building less than a handful of people had privilege to access.

-----

You punch the button for floor 99. Nervousness and jitters rising in your body almost in sync with the glass elevator's ascent, passing floor after floor. 

Finally, floor 99 arrives with a loud ding. The doors open, revealing a polished marble hallway with a large, fancy door at the end. You walk down it, the sound of your shoes echoing off the walls, noticing the they are adorned with some of the finest artwork.

Cubism style paintings that must have cost a fortune. You pause at one of them, admiring the art, then resume your walk again, arriving in front of the large door. You look to your left and there's a small keypad. You enter the code: 

2-0-9-9

You jump back, startled as the door automatically, slowly creaks open, revealing a lavish, lounge suite. Floor to ceiling windows cover the wall on the far end you're facing, a wall with various pieces of tech and advanced looking gadgets are organized in a black case to your left. Gentle harp music playing from a speaker fills your eardrums. There's several tan, cozy looking sofas and sleek coffee tables in the middle. A water feature is on the wall to your right, tranquil water trickling down polished rocks and lightly splashing into a peaceful pond with green lily pads dialing up the degree of luxury. You walk towards the windows, taking in the afternoon cityscape of Nueva York and discover a huge buffet table laid out in front of it. 

Platters of the finest pastries and breads: croissants, Challah, assorted bagels, muffins, brownies, danishes, strudals, fritters, and the like. Next to it is freshly cut deli meats: ham, prosciutto, salami, pastrami, turkey, and roast beef arranged beautifully on wooden planks. Then a huge collection of cheeses  with cheddar, swiss, havarti, muenster, fresh mozzarella, a large wheel of expensive looking brie, raclette, camembert, and smoked gouda with elegant serving utensils.

Your mouth waters as you take in the sight of an enormous porcelain bowl of fresh fruit. The juiciest, greenest looking grapes you've ever seen with plump strawberries, fresh pineapple, delectable looking kiwi, freshly washed raspberries and mango. 

If you thought that wasn't enough food, there's also salads in crystal serving bowls: Wildberry, Cesar, Cobb, and a yummy looking pasta salad with bowtie noodles. 

You hear sharp clicking of stilettos behind you on the marble and you turn around. 

"There you are!" 

Lyla comes walking up to you with a smile, a little frazzled from all the other errands she's been running this morning, wearing a pink blazer with slacks to match, her brown bob hanging neatly around her cheeks.

"I'm glad you could make it! Miguel is running a little late. He's in a meeting, but in the meantime you're welcome to begin and get served up, then if you want to just have a seat at that table." She points to a large oak table next to the waterfall.

 "Oh, and what juice do you want, sweetie?" 

You blink, so overwhelmed by all of this fancy food and attention. This level of luxury something completely foreign to you. 

"Um...what do you have?" 

"It's all freshly squeezed." She says with a smile and adjust of her glasses. "Umm, lemme see if I can remember...okay, yes we have orange, apple, grape, cranberry, mango, passion fruit, grapefruit..." 

You think for a moment then tell her your selection. 

"Great! Coming right up. Oh, and there's also a coffee station, water station and assorted teas over there." She points to the end of the buffet table as she hastily walks into another room. 

---- 

A short time later, you're sitting with your huge plate of food and three drinks, munching away with a content look on your face, watching the city below outside the window as you dine on the fancy lunch. 

A door opens on the far end of the room and Miguel comes walking through, loosening his tie and shrugging off his blazer. Your cheeks heat up as he approaches, his white dress shirt clinging to his body and sparing you no detail of every bulking muscle of his figure, an endearing slight pudge of his stomach and a little smile on his face as he greets you for the first time. 

"Is the food to your liking?" He asks gently, draping his blazer over the back of the chair next to yours. 

"Oh! Um, yes. Yes, oh my God. Everything is amazing. Thank you, doctor..." 

"Miguel." Miguel responds firmly. "Please call me Miguel from now on." 

You nod, "Miguel..." 

Miguel's body gets warm at the sound of his name leaving your lips. He's a little ashamed because he'd love to make you say it again...a little louder eventually. 

"Well, eat as much food as you like. Feel free to take some with you. I'll have Lyla package it up for you." 

Miguel walks over to the table, dishing up his own plate. "I'm sure you might be wondering my reasons for all of this. Why I changed your internship and why I invited you here." 

Miguel finishes dishing up his plate, just a generous helping of the Wildberry salad with vinaigrette and a croissant, sitting next to you. Sauvage by Dior coming off his neck making you clench your hands into fists. 

"I invited you here because...I want to be straightforward with you. I'm very intrigued by you."

Your lips part, your fork falling out of your hand and clattering against the porcelain plate making you jump. A trace of amusement flashes across Miguel's face, then he returns to looking at you with a sincere  expression. "I've taken an interest in helping you with your career. With this medical school journey you are on." He continues, turning his attention to his salad, stabbing some of the lettuce.

"I'm a man who makes deals. If you are comfortable with it, I'd like to work out an agreement to where I provide you with anything you might need or desire in terms of funds, clothing, food..." He coats the bite of lettuce in some dressing. "In return, all I ask for is your complete loyalty and companionship. With the ability to negotiate what that looks like." 

You dab your mouth with your napkin, trying to make sense of what he's telling you. If you weren't mistaken it sounds like, "You want me to...be your sugar baby?" 

Miguel smiles, blowing a little air out of his nose. "For lack of a better term, yes." He takes a bite of his  croissant, then a generous sip of lemon water. 

"But, why. Why me? I mean...all the other girls in my dorm at my college, the smart women you work with, surely, there's someone else that would be a more equal fit to you. Why such an interest in someone like me?" 

Miguel pauses, setting down his fork. "Because I see in you what you don't see in yourself. You have potential. You're smart and determined. You've demonstrated you can work hard. You're different. I've noticed you're a lot kinder than your peers. You're humble, and you don't show off." He smiles. 

"You're a perfectionist and you put extra care into your work. I want to make your dreams of medical school happen for you. I see an investment that's very worthwhile." 

"An investment?" You ask. "I'm just a business proposition?" 

Miguel chuckles. "No...no....you are certainly more important than that. Traditionally, with these kinds of arrangements, there's a...a more intimate component to it." His brown eyes shine with the tiniest hint of mischief. "Typically, I'd provide all of this for you, and you'd give me something in return." 

Your breathing gets a little heavier. 

Miguel notices your flustered reaction and smirks, putting a reassuring hand on yours. The warmth of his palm radiating over your skin. "But, my mother raised me to give freely, without expectation of receiving anything in return. I would be fine providing for you as long as you'd let me. As long as you continue to work hard for my company, perform well in your studies, and agree to not to see anyone else while we are involved with one another, but I'm getting a little ahead of myself."

You remain silent, a quiet analysis underway in your mind as he slides a folder to you with a fancy ballpoint pen, the click of it alone sounding like a year's salary. "Open it." 

You obey and open the folder with shaky hands. A lengthy, formal agreement is neatly typed in small black letters, with ample blank space in between some of the clauses of the agreement, presumably for any changes you'd like to make. 

Miguel opens his own copy of the document, taking another fancy ballpoint pen in hand. "Now...this first paragraph details the money aspect of our arrangement. Since I sent you $1,000, that would be considered an advance on your allowance, and I would not send another payment until two weeks from yesterday. Unless, you are needing more before then?" He asks. "Why don't you list all of your debts for me and their respective amounts, and I'll write them down here." 

You nod, going through the list. There's your phone bill, your Netflix account, Spotify, your insurance, groceries, your three maxed out credit cards, a personal loan you owe the bank, as well as anything you need such as toiletries, medicine, and clothing. Miguel takes note of each one and writes it down. The room silent except for the gentle flick of his pen. 

"Perfect. These won't be an issue at all." He scans the next paragraph. "Now, for this portion, I need you to fill out this form." 

He slides you a new paper, and your eyebrows furrow in curiosity as you look at its contents. It almost looks like a personality quiz, asking for your favorite foods, drinks, places you like to go, your favorite colors, your favorite fashion brands, what makeup you like to use, jewelry you prefer, your height, and measurements. 

"What are these for?" 

"These are for me. So I can take care of you properly." Miguel says. 

You feel the area between your legs get hot when you notice one of the items. "F-favorite... position..." 

Miguel smirks. "Like I said, we can negotiate on that portion. I'm not expecting you to do anything intimate with me if you are not comfortable. But if you are..." He stands up, leaning over you a little bit. 

"Then I'd like to know, so I can pleasure you accordingly. In just the way you'd like..." 

You can feel yourself getting dizzy. Everything about this arrangement seemed so good to be true, you had yet to find any downsides to it. But it felt wrong, almost naughty. This man who was supposed to be your boss, now turned into your personal butler, chef, piggy bank, providing and pampering you with anything and everything a girl could possibly dream of or want.

"I...I might be okay with little things like...I don't know...kissing?" Your face heats up and you look down at your lap. Were you really talking out loud, in explicit detail about a proposed physical relationship with your boss? 

Miguel smiles and nods. "Alright..." He jots that down. "Anything else?" 

"Anything but...sex." you say the last word quietly as though it was a sin. 

Miguel gives you a reassuring smile, perking up a little bit in excitement at the idea of you opening yourself up to him a little more physically. "Could you be more specific?" He asks quietly. 

Your face burns and you look around to make sure Lyla or someone isn't around. 

"It's just you and me, cariño..." He says quietly, leaning a little closer to you. "I need you to be as specific as you can about what you are comfortable with doing together. Nobody will know, but you and I..." 

His tone is gentle, just above a whisper. You feel your insides curdle into honey. "Um...kissing, like making out..." 

"Mhmm..." Miguel nods slowly, writing it down. "Please, go on." 

"Um, touching..." 

"Over, or under clothing..." 

"Um.." you bite your cheek, trying to keep your composure. "....both." 

Miguel cocks his head at you, a smile curling on his lips. "You sound unsure." 

You shake your head "No I'm, I'm sure..." 

Miguel looks at you curiously. "You don't need to lie or say what you think I'd like to hear." He sets down his pen. 

"To be frank, your pleasure is positively correlated with my own. In order for mine to be optimized, yours must be completely satisfied...and I'd like to get as much as I can." 

Your eyes flutter and you swallow, nodding. "Ah-okay.... Um...yeah let's just do touching outside of our clothes for now." 

Miguel hums and takes note. "We'll revisit that part later, when we have more time. This next section is extremely important." 

He runs his finger down the page. "Now, these are just a few housekeeping items. I prefer minimal public displays of affection, and if there are any, they are extremely modest. Any public dates we go on will be limited so you are not spotted by the press. You are not to post of our relationship on social media. You must reject any romantic advances from anyone else. Does this all sound okay?" 

You blink a little at the rigid terms but nod. "Okay, yeah, understood." You look back down at the document, scanning over the next paragraph, noticing the next section, "Transparency...so, I'm allowed to ask you any questions I have before I sign the agreement?" 

"Yes, any questions you have, I'll answer. So you know what you're getting into." Miguel says, leaning back in his chair. 

"Have...have you had relationships like this before?" 

Miguel nods. "Yes, I have." 

You gulp, a little uneasy at his answer but you slowly digest it. "Have they been...employees of yours?" 

Miguel pauses as he recollects his memory. "No, admittedly. You are the first. That's why I moved you under Jess's leadership. To try and avoid any entanglements that would compromise my business."

You nod, biting the tip of your pen thoughtfully. "It says here you don't do marriage?" 

"Marriage? No. That's correct. I will not marry anyone." 

You hesitate. "Can I ask why?" 

Miguel nods, taking his seat next to you again. "I built this business from the bottom up. It means a great deal to me. I have entirely too much to lose. My fear for the security of my assets, along with the messy emotions of a marriage are why I refrain from entering into it again." 

"You were married before?" 

"Yes, once. She passed away shortly after my daughter was born." 

"I'm sorry..." You say quietly. 

"Don't apologize, it happened a long time ago. But, my not wanting to get married has caused many of the women who were in your position before to end the relationship. I understand if this is a deal breaker for you." 

You contemplate for several moments. Marriage was something you dreamed of, but with all of the amazing benefits he was offering you, perhaps you could put up with a ring being taken out of the equation, for now. "I think I can handle it." 

Miguel smiles and nods. "Very well...just know that you can terminate this arrangement at any time, and I won't harbor any feelings of animosity towards you if you do. I understand my requirements are extensive, but I intend to make sure it's completely worth it and you are happy and taken care of. If you sign this agreement, you will still be mine entirely. Anything you desire, anything you want. I promise it will be yours." 

His hand finds yours again. "Now...if you'll sign, please?" 

 

You quickly write your signature on the bottom line. A small breath leaving you as he tucks it back into the folder. "Wonderful...thank you. This means a great deal to me...with that said and done..." He takes you by the hand, helping you stand up. 

His eyes look into yours. You hold his gaze, a look of wonder on your face as you look back at this beautiful man who just promised to be all yours. Your wish his command. Every pretty and fine thing in his world at your disposal. He purrs quietly, bringing you closer. 

"Will you put your hands on my chest, please?" He whispers. 

You obey, your lips parting as you feel the dense muscle underneath your palms. A quiet rumble vibrating through him at the sensation of your touch. Your eyelids droop when you feel him bringing his hands to your hips. 

"And...I can put my hands here...?" He murmurs. 

You nod silently, wetting your lips. 

Miguel smirks at this, his own eyelids becoming heavy and he leans down towards you a little bit. "Can I have a kiss, before you go?"

You utter a shaky breath and nod, "Yes..." 

He carefully and gently presses his full lips against yours in a delicate kiss. He was softer than you were expecting. He hums quietly and begins slowly to open his mouth against yours, releasing little breaths into your mouth when you hold the kiss. 

Any anxiety you had about this arrangement seemed to dissapate as quickly as your lips met in a tender first meeting, your body now reacting with a mind of its own, your hands slowly sliding up his body, finding the back of his hair. 

Miguel grunts a little eagerly, pleasantly happy with the way you're responding, and he pulls you closer, sliding his tongue into your mouth, sucking your bottom lip, using one of his hands to angle your head, requesting permission to leave his kisses elsewhere besides your lips. You groan and tilt your head back, letting him gently move his lips along your throat. He chuckles against your skin. "Perfect...." 

He sighs and cups your face in his hands, looking at you with adoring eyes. "I have to go away on business until Friday..." He brings you back in for another kiss, gliding his tongue across your lips, smiling as he hears you moan open mouthed into him. 

"Mmm….this...should hold me off until then." He presses his forehead against yours. "In the meantime, don't forget to fill out that paper of all your favorite things." He nuzzles the tip of his nose against yours. "I also need your phone number." 

You beam at him and eagerly enter your number into his sleek phone while he gently kisses the top of your head, watching you do it. Before you part, he speaks up. 

"One more thing, with me, you will be looked after and offered personal protection." 

A man enters the room. He's tall and lanky, sporting a grey turtleneck under a fancy tweed black trenchcoat and circular framed glasses with dark brown hair. He's rather cute and looks like a mashup of The Matrix meets Peaky Blinders. 

"This is Noir. He will be your personal driver. You're to let him know where you're going at all times and if there's anything you need, okay? He has my number as well, so any questions or concerns you have for me, you can also relay to him in the event that I'm unavailable." 

"Ma'am." Noir greets you with a friendly smile and polite kiss on the back of the hand. "Your wish is my command. Your safety and comfort is my utmost priority. If you're stuck in front of a train, my only job is to throw myself in front of it." 

Miguel clears his throat, a little annoyed with Noir's dramatics. "Yes...right. Take her home, please. Make sure she has anything she needs until Friday." He pulls you back in for one more kiss and hug. "And I'll see you...." He kisses you tenderly. "Very soon...¿Vale? (Right)

"Right..." You agree, giving him another gorgeous smile. "Thanks, Miguel. I'll miss you..." 

Miguel gives you a warm smile and one more peck on the lips. "Awh...te extraño más(I'll miss you more)." He winks. 

"Take care of her for me, Noir." 

"You got it, boss." 

----- 

Noir drives you in a sleek Mercedes back home, opening your door and making sure you have everything you need before he drives off into the night. 

You walk in your shared dorm with a big smile, only to have it wiped away when you open your fridge. Your leftovers from your takeout last night were missing. You close the fridge with a frown and walk towards your room, pausing outside Isla's room. You hear her voice along with Heather and Vivian's speaking in low volume which abruptly cuts off when they hear someone approaching. 

"Hey..." 

The three girls look up at you from their places on Isla's bed as though you killed their cat. 

"H-have you guys seen my food that was in the fridge?" 

"Don't know, don't care." Vivian snaps. 

You tense up, wondering where this hostility is coming from. "I don't get it, what's wrong?" 

"Nothing's wrong, except Professor Hill came in and bitched at all of us not cleaning the bathroom." 

You take a deep breath. "Okay...but, I told you guys last week, I'm tired of being the only one who cleans it, and this week I'm not doing it, so one of you needs to decide who's taking a turn this time." 

"Um, actually it is your job this week. Since you want to be a whore and sleep around with the boss." Heather says, crossing her arms. 

You feel a knot in your stomach. 

"What are....w-what..." 

"Huh, um what, duh?" Isla responds, mocking you in a deep voice with dramatic facial expressions. "Stop playing dumb. Now you think you're hot shit, getting to skip out on work now that you're his little slut and he's sending you flowers?" 

“First of all, it's none of your business, second of all, why are you privy to any of this, Isla? Did you go into my room while I was gone?” 

“It's none of your business, since you wanna play that game with me, you hoe.”  she retorts. 

"It's not my fault he chose me over your desperate ass, Isla!" 

Isla pauses, then chuckles darkly. "Oh sweetheart...." She gets up, shoving past you and racing towards your room. 

"What the-" you attempt to run after her but Heather and Viviana hold you back, pushing you against the door. "Ow-stop! Please!" 

Isla takes the bouquet of flowers from your window sill and the card, "ThAnK yOu FOr tHe sAnDwICh and fOR yOur DiliGEnt woRK fOR mY depaRtmEnt. EnJOy- Dr. O’HArA!" She reads in another mocking tone. 

"Isla, those are mine!" Heather and Vivian restrain your arms, preventing you from entering your room. "Stop!!" 

Isla smirks and opens your window, tossing the gorgeous bouquet of flowers out of it. 

Your heart sinks from your chest to your stomach and you bolt outside, Heather and Vivian cackling at your expense. 

Your lip trembles and eyes fill with tears as you crouch down, trying to pick up the pieces of the shattered vase and the tattered flowers that lay on the ground. 

----

Noir notices you're not as talkative as he drives you to work the next morning. “Long night?”

“Eh…” you try to brush it off. “Just issues with my living situation.”

“Wanna talk about it?” Noir asks, adjusting his mirror so his gray eyes look into yours. “I'm all ears.”

You make a tiny scoff, running your tongue along your teeth as you recount your confrontation with Heather, Isla and Vivian, sniffing as you tell him how they've made your life hell and picked on you ever since you moved into the sorority.

Noir nods, taking silent notes in his head as he quietly drives.

“Hey…” Noir says to you as you go to exit the car. “Don't let the bastards get you down, little lady.”

You crack a small smile, nodding and entering the building with a loud sigh.

----

After work, as you slide into the backseat, you gasp at the sight waiting for you. A fresh bouquet of red roses and babies breath even bigger and more gorgeous than the old one, with a new note from Miguel.

This vase is shatterproof. ;) Please tell me if they give you any more trouble. You're more precious to me than any flower. I hope this proves it.

All yours,

-Dr. O’Hara

----

[cherry-leclerc]

certain way in stages  ☆ cl16

genre: childhood friends to lovers, yearning, humor, slow-burnish

word count: 10.5k

Being in love is bittersweet at times. You and Charles both lived proof of that. It’s been a long time coming.

inspired by this !

Growing up, you always wished for the most perfect meet-cute a girl could ever experience. For instance, you dreamt of a grumpy millionaire suddenly having a soft spot and falling for your undeniable charm. Or perhaps you would fall in love with the boy from your nearest ice cream parlor, who would always give you an extra scoop just because, though both of you would know that wouldn’t be the case.

As you grew older, you came to terms that stuff like that didn’t really exist. You weren’t living in a romcom. You weren’t living in your favorite love story. Over and over, you would remind yourself that it was fine and you can make do, but just the tiniest piece of you still wondered.

“Darling, true love does exist. I can reassure you." Pascale comforted you as you sat in front of her. It was summer, she was braiding your hair, you were eating ice cream out of a carton, and you just went through your first heartbreak. All of this made it pretty hard to believe.

“I’m sure it does, but I suppose it’s just not for me,” you mumble with watery eyes, bringing your knees to your chest and rest your chin atop. 

Pascale lets out a sad hum as she ties your hair. As you turn to look at her, she pats on the couch signaling you to take a seat next to her. 

“Listen,” she starts as she grabs your hands gently. “Heartbreak isn’t nice, believe me, I know.” Suddenly, you feel like the biggest jerk in the world. How could you ever compare your silly little grief with someone who has lost the love of their life? You’re about to apologize before she presses on your hand. “Like I said, it isn’t pretty. Things like this make you feel as if it’s the end of the world - God - you almost wish it was… but there’s always more out there. Something that will shift your entire world on its axis if it hasn’t already, and you will love and enjoy it so much that it will overpower any type of pain you have ever endured.”

“What if I’m not lucky enough to have that? Who could ever want someone like me?” you whisper. You hated to make it all about yourself, but things like this always kept you up, in a way you wish it wouldn’t.

“Anyone would be lucky to have you.” She brings you in for a hug and you wish you believed her words the way they flowed. “You just have to allow yourself to get to know what you need, not just what you want.” 

“Trust me, I thought Noah was all I needed…”

Pascale brings up her hands to her temples, gently massaging, watercolor eyes narrowed down on you. “No, no, no. He never deserved a pretty little flower like you.” 

“Maybe…” You chew on your bottom lip, slightly flinching at her stare. “Yeah. I know.”

Both of you end up curling up on the couch, gossiping about all the latest surrounding the small Monaco streets. She's getting real riled up when Charles walks in.

“I’m back!” He takes his jacket off. Once he makes his way over to Pascale, he notices you. Giving her a kiss, his eyes shift. “Lapine, what are you doing here?”

You glare. “Can’t a girl just come over to see their best friend?” Popping some kettle corn into your mouth, you continue. “When I saw you weren’t home I came to talk to your mom.”

He frowns a bit. “Sorry, I thought you knew I wasn’t going to be around. Remember it was my an-”

Immediately, you jump off the couch. “Your anniversary!” Guilt eats you up. How could you have forgotten? “No, Charles, I should be the one apologizing. Crap, I forgot.”

He smiles at your current state. “It’s alright, it went well either way…” The Monegasque shoots an eyebrow up before winking, well, his own attempt at it. You pretend to throw up at the same time Pascale makes a run for her room. 

The brunette and you both plop onto the warm couch. He quickly grabs a handful of your snack before he gobbling it down. Snatching the bowl from him, you hold it close against your chest. “This is my popcorn,” you greedily say. His hand reaches out for more which you swiftly swat away.

“Hey!”

“Hey you! I told you this is mine.”

He furrows his brows. “You were just sharing some with my mom!”

“You said it. With Pascale. Not Charles.”

The green eyed boy lets out a huff. “Okay. Do you want to talk about it?” Your vision gets blurry before you even have a chance to pretend you were totally fine, but you’re not. Not even a little. If anyone could tell it would always be him.

“It’s Noah.” You look away because it’s only a matter of time before Charles’ judgy face makes an appearance. You always knew he never liked him, but now was not the time for that reminder. “Nevermind.”

Shifting his body to face you Charles says, “You know I’m always here for you. You can tell me anything.”

Your chin begins to wobble and all the sensitivity in the world is beginning to catch up with you.

Sobbing you begin. “I wish I could tell you where it all went wrong, but God I wish I knew myself.” Your shoulders shake up and down by how hard you’re crying. “I don’t know what I did! I mean I never did anything wrong, but Charles the way he looked at me made me feel as if I did! I’ve never felt so…so…dirty.”

First thing Charles thinks is how much he wants to go pay Noah a nice little visit and second is how much it hurts him to see you like this. He’d pay an endless amount of sum if that meant you would go back to your natural, cheery self.

So, with sobs echoing through his family home, he grabs your hands. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

Staring back at him with glassy eyes, you let out a wet laugh. Slowly, you start to cackle. Charles finds himself wondering if you’ve gone mad.

“Yes I did. I just know I did,” you press as you wheeze, fresh tears pouring out. “Like everything else around me, I just had to go out and ruin things. God, I feel so pathetic.” Pulling your hands away, you stand up and begin to pace the room back and forth. “If I had just been enough for him then maybe Noah would have chosen me and not her. I mean how could I blame him? I would choose her too.” 

Charles instantly stands up and grabs your shoulders. “Listen,” he says as you stare down at the floor. “Lapine.” You dig your nails into the palm of your hands as you lift your attention to him. “You did absolutely nothing wrong.”

You roll your eyes. “Are you a broken record or something? You already said that.”

“No, you must be the broken record here by the way you keep blaming yourself when I know you’re smart enough to decipher that none of this is your fault. He’s a fucking dick.” Like always, when you’re losing your mind, Charles is always there for you in a way you're almost embarrassed to say no one else is. 

Wearing a weak smile, you go in and hug him. “I just wish for once I was someone’s first choice,” you mumble into his chest.

God, Charles thinks to himself. If only you knew you were mine.

-

“She’s so sweet, so lovely!” Pascale squeals as she makes her way into the kitchen with a handful of daisies tied together with a sad looking ribbon. 

Charles and Arthur are cleaning their helmet visors as they munch on crackers. “Maman, you’re dropping dirt everywhere,” Charles states as he stares at the now dirty tiles.

“Well if we’re playing that game, then there’s crumbs everywhere.”

The Monegasque shuts up right away.

Later on that same day, he decides to go on a bike ride. He’d just gotten one for his 8th birthday that he was dying to brag out. Running out the door, Pascale warns him: “Only around the neighborhood, Cha!”

“Oui!”

Just as he was tying his shoelaces, he spots a girl around his age walking up to him. She’s so pretty, he remembers thinking.

“Hi!” you chirp as your right arm remains behind your back. “I’m new around here. Just moved to the house next door.” You sheepishly point to the cream-ish house that sits next to his.

“Nice.”

You squint your eyes at slightly before kicking the dirt surrounding your Mary Janes. Your arm makes an appearance with the same daisies he remembers his mom adding into a flower vase. “These are for you! I hope you like them.”

He reaches out to accept before dropping them next to his helmet. Your stomach churns.

“You don’t like them?” Your pretty little eyes begin to well up. He quickly panics, hurriedly getting on his knees to pick up the wilted flowers.

“What? Of course I do!” he yelps as he brings them up to his nose to take a whiff. “Smells good too!”

A few tears roll down your cheeks as you begin to walk away. “It’s fine. Keep them. Throw them. I don’t care.” 

He bolts after you before grabbing your hand. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I never meant to make you cry!”

Wiping your warm tears away, you looked down at your locked hands. He lets go.

“Take me on a bike ride and I might just forgive you,” you challenge.

So he did. That same day he crashed it when your hair flew into his face and didn’t let him see where he was steering, and while he might have cried a bit, he didn’t really care. Because that was the day he met his best friend.

-

Charles fell in love with you when you were both seventeen. Maybe a bit later than expected but it was as sweet as it could get.

“She so likes you,” Arthur tells him one day over a round of video games. Charles quickly pauses the game before turning to his younger brother.

“You really think so?”

Lorenzo, who was sitting nearby reading his book, perks up. “It’s as clear as daylight. You guys are meant for eachother.”

Charles was on a sudden high; I mean if everyone else saw it, it just had to be true. Without finishing a second thought, he dashed up the flight stairs so fast that he almost face planted a couple of times. Rapidly, he runs to his window where he knows he would find you sitting in your room. 

Laying on your bed with your legs kicked up against the wall, he could tell you were on a phone call. 

Psst, he hissed as he tried to catch your attention. You look around your room confused. I’m right here, he speaks up as he dangles a bit over his open window. Sweetly, you excuse yourself, hanging up, and making your way over. 

“What’s up?”

All of a sudden, he doesn’t know what else to say. Bright eyes stare back at him and his heart thuds loudly, hands nervously sweat. “Uhhh…”  

Weirded out, you walk to your closet and grab your shoes. “Wanna go for some ice cream?”

Like always, you both met outside as you began to walk to the nearest ice cream parlor. “What flavor are you getting?” you asked as you twiddled with the ring he had gifted you for your fifteenth birthday.

“Strawberry. You?”

“Not sure.” You curiously squint at the nearby tourists. 

Walking in, Charles orders his own cone as you stroll around trying to decide. “Lemon? No. Sherbert? Ah, gross…” He takes a seat while you mumble to yourself. “Um, what about-”

“Rocky Road?” a voice recommends. Both you and Charles look up and find a tall looking boy with shaggy hair. Your heart quickens as you begin to blush. “Rocky Road sounds good, I’ll take one.”

Charles felt his stomach churn with an unfamiliar feeling. Jealousy. He rises up, sourly making his way. “She doesn’t like chocolate.”

With a cold stare, you scowl towards the Monegasque. “I actually love chocolate.” Hastily, you turn your attention back, beaming kindly. “Strawberry and chocolate, please.”

As you both sit on the benches outside, you hum quietly. “Would you mind telling my mom I’ll be home for dinner on time?”

It was still early when you asked, so he pondered on why you wouldn’t just be walking home with him. “Can’t you tell her yourself?” He knows he’s being rude - and there was truly no reason for that - but he felt bitter. He knew why.

“Charlie. Please. You know Theo asked me out to go watch a movie with him at the drive- in!” The way your eyes glimmered and glistened had him wishing they were shining like that for him and not Theo from the ice cream shop.

“Fine.”

Walking back home, he felt like the same wilted flowers you had gifted him when you were both younger. The brunette kicks a mountain of rock, flinching.

If I had just asked her out sooner. Late. Late. Late. Always too late.

-

It's been a few months now since your break up and you were feeling better. You don’t even remember why you even loved Noah in the first place. Realizing he never really cared enough to try was a tough pill to swallow, but you managed to dig yourself out the hole. 

Twirling around in your heels, you walk up and down the hallway, presenting yourself with an awful catwalk. “How do I look?” Steady hands grip your hips as you lean playfully and blow a kiss.

“Beautiful!” Pascale squeals, clapping.

“Lovely,” Lorenzo follows up.

“You clean up nice, I suppose,” Arthur jokes with two thumbs up. You throw a quick scowl in his direction.

“I wish I could bring you guys along, but sadly I only got a plus one.” Tonight you would be receiving your diploma for graduating Uni, all before the actual graduation that would later follow up in a few weeks. You had decided to string Charles along since he was one of the main reasons you were even here, in this very moment. Endlessly, he would always quiz you with flashcards you would prepare.

“Nitrogen!” you yell out as you hold onto the edge of your seat. It’s been a long day and you were staring to lose it.

“Wrong. Try again.”

“Iodine!”

“We’re going over history, what does any of this have to do with the elements?” He laughs, laying the cards onto the coffee table. “You could use a break.”

With a stubborn frown, you roll over. “Taking a break won’t help. I have to keep going.” Charles studies you a bit before standing up. “Where are you going?” you interrogate, peeping an eye open.

“Why don’t we go for a swim?” he proposes. 

“Oh. No. God no. I have to study.” Swiftly, your hands shoot out for the index cards. 

This leads for your best friend to grab onto your legs, tugging you off the couch. You squirm, trying to hold on to the nearest pillows. “No!”

For a while, you both continue this little dance, though as you slip his grip, he ends up tugging your socks off. Charles lets out a groan as his back hits the cold floor.

Speedy, you jump off the couch. “On second thought, a swim sounds nice!”

It’s been 20 minutes of waiting and though you weren’t late for your event quite yet, you knew you had to get going. “I think I should call a cab now...” You sigh and grab your purse.

“That boy, when I get my hands on him-” Pascale doesn’t have a chance to finish her sentence before Charles casually walks in through the door. His eyes glint when he sees you standing like a doll.

“Woah. You look beautiful." The Monegasque tints pink but you only roll your eyes. Annoyed is an understatement. 

“Good to hear,” you spit out. “Anyway, I should get going.”

“Date?” Charles dares question and you try not to explode in front of his family.

Turning around slowly, your hands still remain wrapped around the knob. “Yes, Charles. A date. Just me and my diploma, going on a date.”

His face goes completely pale. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Charles harshly rubs his hands over his eyes, clearly stressed out. “I’m sorry! I was out with Charlotte, I must have lost track of time.”

Looking over at his brothers and Pascale, you decide to hide your embarrassment with a shy smile. “No worries. I get it.” You were telling the truth; you did understand. Just the fact that he forgot is what hurt. He knew this was important to you. How hard you worked for this and how the only person you wanted to share this moment with was him. 

With a slight wince, he excuses himself to go change. “Don’t bother,” you yell out after him. Standing on the wooden steps, he turns to see you and he could tell he's ruined it. He messed up. You couldn’t help your eyes filling up with tears and he couldn’t help but notice them. You lamely shrug your shoulders. “Lorenzo, I mean you always dress up pretty fancy,” you point out. “You seem ready. Would you mind accompanying me?” 

“Of course,” he says, a trace of hesitance evident when he reaches to grab his jacket and car keys.

As the Monegasque watches Lorenzo and you drive off, he can’t help but feel angry at himself.

“It’s always her!” Charlotte yells out as Charles rests his head against the wall. This was slowly becoming a routine. 

“You know it’s not like that,” he justifies. 

“Oh please, do us all a favor and tell us how it is."

“I messed up,” he admits. Pascale and him had settled into a road silence, overlooking her garden.

“Yes. You did.”

Quietly, Charlotte crouches down next to Charles. “Hey,” she starts, pain lacing through her voice. “Look we’ve had a nice run, but maybe it’s time we just stop pretending that it was always going to be me.”

-

Charles weakly apologizes by making you a plate of pasta.

“Mmm,” you hum. “Crunchy.” 

He smiles a toothy grin as he claps his hands, slightly startling you. “Crunchy is good!” As soon as you make a face and scrunch your nose, his smile fades away.

“Not your best work, C.” A shy smile escapes. Charles groans as he throws his head back, chair tipping over. A loud smack follows.

“Holy shit!” you screech, jumping off your seat. With a dizzy look, he rubs his head before mumbling with a low, I’m fine. You help him to his room where he throws himself on his bed with a thud. “Don’t you dare fall asleep.”

His eyes shoot open with alert, jumping off the bed. “Let’s go for a drive.”

The late night ride is always peaceful; you both don’t really have many moments like those. Sharing a bag of chips, you both enjoy the view from his Pista. It’s always been this place ever since you both discovered what you like to call, The Nicest Place In All of Monaco.

“Truth or Dare?” 

The young driver should know better than to fall for your little games but he still finds himself playing, “Truth.”

You close your eyes and tap your chin. “Oh! Have you ever hooked up with a fan?” Curiosity always gets the best of you, you can’t deny it.

His face scrunches up with disgust. “I’m not talking about this with you.” A deep frown forms, pinching his forearm.

“That’s not fair, you already said Truth, so Truth it shall be.”

He squints his eyes watercolor eyes. “Says who?”

“Says me! Now spill.”

The brunette grows weirdly quiet for a nanosecond. “Yes.” When your eyes go wide with excitement he knows he should stop this before it goes on any further. “Only once, okay? No more questions.”

Theatrically zipping your lips, he chuckles and returns the question. “Dare.” He narrows his eyes and you get a queasy feeling. “Take it back. Truth.”

His mouth drops open, screeching how you couldn’t change your choice. “It wouldn’t be fair!” he tries to reason with you.

“Says who?”

“Me! I say so!”

“Bullshit. I said Truth.”

“Fine. Have you ever been in love?”

Suddenly, it feels like you're eating cardboard. Swallowing, you make a duh movement. “Yes. Of course. Noah.”

“You know that doesn’t count.”

Looking out the window, you know what he said was true. You once thought you loved Noah, but you never truly did - it was almost all an illusion.

“You’re right. It wasn’t love that I felt for him, but I’ve been in love with someone else.”

Charles wants to press you on it. Who is it? Since when? His name, age, address? Do you still think about them from time to time? But he knows you better than anyone, and as expected, you cut the game short, just as quick as it started.

“I’ll drive,” you murmur, cllimbing out of the passenger's seat.

-

Theo ended up moving to Boston for college, and while you were a bit bummed out, you didn’t really care too much. It was nice while it lasted.

On the other hand, Charles felt as if this was a sign from the universe. You were both eighteen now; he could make big boy moves if he wanted to. 

The Monegasque takes you karting with him one day since you’ve been begging him for so long. He even helps you with your helmet as your adorably work on slipping your gloves on. “Should I cover you with bubble wrap?” he mumbles.

“I think I’ll be okay.”

“You think?” he shrieks, immediately taking the helmet off. “If you think you’ll be fine then why are we even here?”

“Dick. You know I’ll be fine!” Grabbing the helmet, you throw it over your head once more. As you both walk over to your karts, you eagerly wave over to your parents who are busy conversing with Pascale. Your mom blows a kiss as Pascale sends you two thumbs up.

The drive was as good as it could get.

“You suck!” Charles exclaims as soon as he jumps out of his kart. Like a lost puppy, follow after him with a confused look.

“What do you mean? I’m basically a pro!”

Charles sharply turns, causing you as you take a step back. “Pros don’t crash in every corner and cutely follow up with a slight 'oops’.” Arthur snickers.

Arms cross over your chest, breathing out. “You think I’m cute?” The brunette awkwardly begins to blush.

“Wha-what? I think you must’ve banged your head against the wheel too many times.” 

You let out a soft laugh, spoking your tongue out. “Calm down, I was just kidding.” As he watches you walk away, Charles couldn’t help but kick himself because this would’ve been the perfect opportunity to let you know just how much you take over his mind. Just seeing you attempting to learn his favorite sport had him filled with pride and affection towards you. Sure, it was quickly replaced with him being worried every time you would crash, but that’s besides the point.

“So stupid,” he mumbles to himself, drooped shoulders, pinched eyebrows, making his way towards you and his family.

-

“Have you thought about it?” Charles questions where you sit on his bed while he packs his suitcase. It had been a while since he had brought up the idea for you to go with him to the Canada GP, and you were still with no answer.

“I’m not sure.”

“Why not?”

“I never directly said no.”

“Yet you haven’t said yes either.”

Biting down on your lip, you balance out your options. Either you can stay here and sulk your summer away while Charles is out traveling and having fun or you tag along and join him and his crowded schedule.

“I promise I’ll get you your dream stack of pancakes with authentic maple,” he tries bribing you. And damn it, it worked.

“You've got yourself a deal.”

-

Chomping on your warm pancakes, you scroll through your phone as you giggle at the following Twitter thread. You giggle so hard you choke. Carlos and Charles walk in with their suits around their waist.

“Dios mío, are you okay?” Carlos checks up on you, handing his water bottle with the obnoxiously long straw. You take a sip before handing it back to him.

“I’m fine, but look.” You gesture towards your screen. Once he sees it, he looks between your phone and his teammate. 

“Identical.”

The Monegasque chirps a quick; “What is it?” You hand your phone over to him as you continue slicing pieces. Carlos discretely steals a bite.

“What the fuck? I don’t even look like him,” he mumble between him and the pictures on your screen.

“His name is Lightning McQueen,” you object as you lean against your chair. The Monegasque huffs out, continuing his scrolling through people's tweets and how everyone seemed to believe they might as well be the same thing.

Carlos lets out a snort as he bumps his shoulder against yours. “Look, his face is even turning as red as the little car!” You both laugh loudly, Charles frowning. Standing up, you brush your hands against your jeans as you excuse yourself to the restroom. 

Sitting down in original seat, your best friend chews up a few bites that lingered on your plate.

“Does she know?” He stops chewing.

“Knows what?” he muffles, cheeks full with bread. 

“That you loveee herrr,” Carlos teases in a sing-songy voice. He immediately starts to choke. The Spaniard hands him his water bottle and he quickly downs it. 

With a slightly raw voice he says, “I don’t love her. Not the way you’re thinking, at least.”

“Tell that to someone who will actually believe you.”

“Is it that obvious?” Carlos nods. “Shit.” He begins to get nervous, rubbing his hands against his face. Brown locks grows tangled when he desperately runs through it.

“Don’t worry,” the Ferrari driver tries to ease him. “She doesn’t even know it.” When Charles looks at him confused, he continues. “I mean everyone else seems to see it but her. You’re fine. Have you told her though?”

“No.”

“And what is it that you’re waiting for? I mean you’re a single man longing for the girl next door. If anything, you both should be married by now.”

“Believe me; I’ve tried three times already.”

“So, what happened?” 

“Well, the first two times I kind of missed my opportunities for being too naive,” he starts before pondering.

The Spaniard holds up two fingers. “What happened the third?”

“What didn’t happen the third?”

-

Proud was an understatement. He had worked hard and people were truly beginning to see his full potential. It's well deserved. 

Running up to him, you embrace him in a tight hug. “Congrats!” A smile presses against his firm chest. Pulling away, he grins, eyes crinkling.

“Thank you. I almost can’t even believe it myself,” he admits, walking slowly down the busy paddock. Though he was wearing his Alfa Romeo suit, you both knew it wouldn’t be long before that changed.

“Driving for Scuderia Ferrari in your early twenties is a huge deal, quit acting humble.” Walking up to his car, you both enjoy each others company on the way to the hotel. Once you walk into his room, you both plop onto the bed, exhausted. The day had been long, filled with interviews and meetings and wonderful fans, and he could never say he didn’t love his job, but it was tough keeping up. 

That night, you both go to the club with a few drivers from the grid to celebrate Charles’ new contract. Swaying your hips, you stand on top of a table. 

“Get down before you break your neck,” Charles yells over the music blaring through the club.

“No fun,” you sourly say as you poke your tongue out at him. Taking a sip from your drink, which Charles has been taking care of for you, glossy eyes roam the club. Lando leans against the wall nearby where he is attempting to grab a girl's number. A moment passes by before his watercolor eyes double in size. He excuses himself, making his way over. “What happened?”

“She turned out to be forty-five.” The Brit groans and hides his face in embarrassment. Throwing your head back laughing, you clutch onto Charles' arm. 

“Stick to girls you know you actually have a chance with,” the Monegasque voices, taking a sip of his drink, smirk dancing through. Lando rolls his eyes.

“Same to you."

The Monegasque silently thanks the universe that you’re too busy talking to George now to even notice. But for once in his life he thought; fuck it. 

Excusing himself, he grabs your hands, leading you away with no excuse. If this went south, and they all witnessed it, he would never live it down.

“I need to tell you something!” 

You scrunch your face like a piece of paper, cupping your hands like a microphone over your mouth. “What?” Nervously, he grabs your hands, and bewildered, you stare back.

“I love you.” 

You stand there, but when you don’t seem shocked, butterflies erupt inside his stomach. Well, what now? “Ah, Charles, you know I love you too,” you yell as you make a duh movement. Frantically, all his confidence begins to slip away - you don’t get it.

“No,” he says, “I love love you. I think about you all the time. Sometimes all I can think is how I would give up my entire career just to be with you, even for a second. Do you know how crazy I feel for even considering something like that?” he rambles. “I mean, I’ve worked so hard for this, and trust me I love it, but not as much I love you. You’re my only option in this life. In the next. In every lifetime; it’s so clear that it will and has always been you.”

Chewing on your lip, you glance around the club to see bodies dancing. Though the room is packed and filled with people kissing and grinding on each other and taking body shots, in too many sinful ways, it just feels like it's just you two at that moment.

He gulps. “Will you go out with me?” There. He said it, and surprisingly, he felt good.

“Charles…” you begin as you try to find the right words. “God, um… We’ve been best friends for so long…” You trail off as his eyes look back in despair for you to continue. “You’re my best friend and this…I mean it wouldn’t feel right.”

Dropping your hands, he swore he felt your words punch him where it hurt the most. Like a mother trying to calm down their child at a candy store, you wrap your delicate hand over his wrist. “I just wouldn’t want anything to change between us,” you try to explain as he nods his head with a tight lipped smile, not even his dimples popped out. 

“No worries, I get it. I wouldn’t want things to change between us either.”

-

With two hands over his head Carlos screeches out: “It happened that night? No wonder you were both awkward the rest of the party.” He remembers now, the way you both kept a careful distance as if you each had some kind of rare disease.

Nodding, Charles shrugs and takes the last bite. “After that we just continued as if nothing had happened and a few months later, I met Charlotte.”  His teammate looks at him in pity but still nods. He’s about to comfort his sulky teammate, but holds back as he catches a glimpse of you walking towards them.

Noticeably, a frown maps itself onto your lips. “Where’s my pancake?” You're pissed; darting between the two Ferrari drivers. 

Charles finished it!

Carlos!

You narrow your eyes suspiciously. “You owe me a plate.”

-

After his two prior failed attempts as a teenager, Charles never really went on to make any more moves. He didn’t want to tarnish your friendship for some silly confession that is probably only one-sided. Also, he was starting to get busier in his Formula 2 career.

With tears springing out of your eyes you whine. “I’m going to miss you.” You blow your snotty nose with a nearby Kleenex.

Slowly, he pats your hand, friendly. “I’ll be coming back home any chance I get, y’know that. Can’t stay away too long from you,” he teases. Innocently, of course. You giggle, brushing your rats nest far away from blotchy face. “You look like a bunny when you cry.”

Shriek, you run over to the mirror. Your lips and eyes are swollen, lashes wet, your nose is painted red, cheeks maroon: you looked bloody crazy. I look awful!

He lets out a chuckle. “That’s crazy talk. You’re one of the most beautiful girls in this world, if not the most.” 

The compliment is thrown at you to make you feel better, but you couldn’t help but feel your heart beating against your chest in a way you’ve never felt before.

The day Charles left, you missed him a scary amount. The two were always finding things to do, typical,  Don’t do it and I’m going to do it duo. You found yourself countless times reaching for your phone, so much so, that you began to consider entering yourself into a mental institution. To get your mind off things, you decided to go on a run.

Monaco was a beautiful place to live in and you had always appreciated that, but as you lightly jogged you noticed that it didn’t carry the same color it did as before. Somehow, it had become a bit dull, something that you would never say out loud, because how is that possible?

Your phone buzzes against your hand as you pick up without seeing who it is. “Hello?”

“Hey.”

And just like that, just by hearing his voice, everything became vibrant again. In a single moment like this you knew. You were in love.

-

Knocking on the bathroom door, Charles presses his ear against the cold wood. “Can you please hurry?” A fist bangs back as a warning; he flinches. 

“Give me a second!” Frustration is evident in your voice as he hears a commotion that is beginning to cause concern. 

“I wouldn’t pressure her if I were you,” Pierre shares from the other side of the room. Kika, who is sitting right next to him, displays a pleased smile as she nods in agreement.

“I’m about to piss myself!” The brunette shrieks, letting out a small dance. The Frechman lets out a loud snort.

“Wow. Use those dance moves at the Gala!” He sends a death glare and he flips him off. Just then, the door swings open and you walk out wearing a gold dress, hands reaching behind your back. He stops breathing for a second.

“Can someone zip me up?” Hurriedly, his long legs rush over. “Not you. You go pee.”

-

Kika and you giggle as you sip on champagne, both of you try to take it easy as it is a fancy event but you were buzzing. “Can you believe we’re casually drinking $7,000 champagne?”

Kika squeals, swallowing the rest of the gold liquid, signaling for the bartender. “I know! It's almost embarrassing because how am I supposed to know when to stop?"

Behind you both, Pierre says, “How about now?” The two of you gasp, attempting to hide the glass behind your back when you turn face them. 

“What are you talking about? It's only been two,” Kika squeaks, pointing at her squeaky clean glass. Charles eyes you suspiciously; you gulp. Marching over, he levels down to your height before gazing a little too hard. You want to look away, but you know that would only make him grow more skeptical.

“Are we interrupting something?” Pierre whispers to his girlfriend who shushes him.

His green eyes start to get you so dizzy, you want to tap out. “How many did you drink?” he demands. Shutting your right eye, you look up at the ceiling before counting on your fingers. 1, 2, 3….8, 9….

“Ten!” You visibly wince at his booming tone. “What the fuck are you doing here drinking ten goddamn glasses of champagne?” Your facade seems to slip as you cover his mouth with your hand.

“Charles, try it before you go all crazy on me,” you mumble your words and drunkenly throw a hand over his broad shoulder. “You know what,” you propose, slightly slurring your words. “I’ll even take one with you!” Clumsily raising your hand, he quickly yanks it back down, fumbling against you.

“No. I think you’ve had enough.” 

At the same moment, Fred makes his way over to your small group, flashing a warm smile. Straightaway, you try to regain your lack of composure. The older man winks, then shakes your hand.

“Charles, so nice of you to bring your girlfriend.”

“Oh- she’s not…She’s not my girlfriend,” Charles stutters. “She’s my best friend from back home, remember?”

The older man nods. “Right! Age is getting the best out of me.” He theatrically taps his head for emphasis. You grin, too afraid to speak. "Anyways, how are you honey?” You smile and nod, digging your nail into the palm of your hand. He quirked an eyebrow. “Easy flight over here?” he tries. You repeat the same actions and throw in two thumbs up. 

Too many drinks? Charles nods, protective arm wrapped around your waist, trying to balance you.

“I was just trying to get to sixteen!”

“Sixteen?”

-

From a certain perspective, you regretted ever feigning indifference when it came to your feelings for Charles. Part of you wishes you had admitted it yourself. Yes, I swear I love you more than a friend, too. You realized this all too late.

“...and her name is Charlotte,” he tells you, eyes glowing. You hated it. You hated knowing that it could’ve been you he was gushing about and there was truly no one to blame but yourself, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Being friends with Charles was all you’ve ever known. Never would you risk losing something as important as that.

“Wow. She sounds great.” A sincere smile plays out, and yes, she did sound amazing. She was everything you ever swore to be.

A pleased smile makes its way through as he grabs his phone and starts texting. So, that’s what life became. He would try to discreetly shoot sneaky messages or make phone calls any time you two would hang out together, but the feeling kept growing rapidly, that you just felt you were interfering; so slowly, you grew apart.

“His name is Noah,” you beam a few months later, drying a stack of dishes. Over the phone, he raises a brow, comedically.

“I’m happy for you,” he complies, nevertheless. Behind, you could distinctively hear her calling his name and you almost let out a snicker from how fast he begins to shut off his stimulator. “Got to go, mate. Having dinner out tonight.” Then, the line run cold.

Ha. Mate.

-

He should’ve known to never listen to Pierre.

“All I’m saying, mate, is that you only live once and you should just stop acting whipped and do something about it.” Pierre takes a swing of beer before he gaws at the bottle. “Fuck,” he lets out. “Germans just know how to do it.”

Everyone around shakes their head in warning. “No,” Max begins. “Whatever you’re thinking, just no. Matter of fact; don’t even think at all.” 

“That should be pretty easy,” Lando mutters from the nearby couch where he was supposedly taking a nap. The Frenchman kindly flips him off.

Charles lets out a breath, before claiming his seat next to Alex. “Seriously guys, think.” The group gathered around more than two hours, compiling possible ideas for him to follow in order to confess his undying love for you - again.

“To be honest, I would’ve given up,” Yuki admits. Concerned, the Monegasque grows quiet. Should I?

Pierre fiercely makes a fiasco to gain his attention once more. “Don’t listen to him!” Once all eyes circle back to him, he paces the room with his no-good thinking face.

“Well, if it helps, maybe you could-” 

“Got it!” Pierres shrieks, rapidly clearing the coffee table. Glass shatters.

“Dude,” Lewis groans as he stares at the mess now made in his suite. 

“Sorry.” Everyone rolls their eyes at his unnecessary childlike behavior, but not Charles. “Just a thought, what if we play a little round of Cupid?” Groans erupt, but the green eyed boy seems rather intrigued.

“What were you thinking?” Fingers play with his rings.

“First of all; how bad do you want it?”

“Pierre, she’s not a fucking object.”

“Of course not! Let me rephrase…” He runs a large hand over his mouth. “What are you willing to do in order to get the girl of your dreams?” The whole room cringes.

“I would do just about anything.”

-

The first phase began with Lando.

“Alright, so all you have to do is get to know her,” Pierre schemes, scribbling down on a piece of napkin.

The Brit blushes, then runs a hand through his curls. “Isn’t that Charles’ job?” he croaks. 

“All I’m asking for you to do is to get some insight on stuff she likes. Y’know…hobbies and shit like that. You don't have to kiss her, dimwit."

“Got it.”

The following day, he finds you walking through the paddock, exchanging a string of hello's with almost everyone, it seems. Seeing that it was barely Wednesday, it wasn’t busy at all. He jogs up to you. “Hey.” 

Throwing a hand over your heart, you jump up in surprise. The Brit grins, apologizes, then you a waffle. Beaming happily, you thank him, greedily stuffing your cheeks full.

“Boy, I sure hope I have some time to golf before the race…”

“I'm sure you will.” More bites.

“Sweet! So you love to golf?” he questions, hands fixing his backwards hat. You shake your head.

“God, no. I’m more of a tennis girl.” As soon as you spot Ferrari's motorhome, you share a quick hug and make your way.

She fucks with tennis, he texts Pierre. Boom. Done.

-

Next, went Alex.

“You have to make him look like the shit,” the Frenchman tries to explain as Alex sits there with a bored expression.

“Charles, just be upfront with her. It’ll work trust me,” he shares as the Ferrari boy nods hesitantly. Yeah, maybe-

“Can anyone just follow instructions?”

Lily got involved the moment her boyfriend mentioned the shitty plan. 

“Oh, this is so cute!” she screeches, dragging him closer by Williams shirt. “I want in.”

Walking hand in hand, they make their way to you as you sit with Lando, who for some reason, keeps questioning you on every little thing.

“...what about tacos?”

Desperate, you wave over at the couple. “Falls right in the palm of our hand,” Lily whispers excitedly, already yanks her boyfriend towards your direction. The Brit immediately excuses himself once they take a seat.

“Thank God,” you exhale, expert hand flying up to tie your hair. Pushing a few loose strands behind your ears you say, “I love him, I do, but the boy has been driving me crazy.”

“Preach that sister,” Alex shoots as he throws an arm over Lily. Under the table, she quickly pinches him. He yelps and scoots away. “Speaking of someone who drives me absolutely crazy, yeah, uh, Charles!” Raising an eyebrow, you stare back confused.

Lily coughs awkwardly, then pats her lap. “Yeah, I mean I was just telling Alex just how sweet Charles seems.” She turns her attention to him as he quickly nods. Super sweet lad, he exclaims. “It’s just…he’s so young and handsome, might I add, so I’m just a tad bit surprised no one has snatched him up already.” 

Crossing your arms over your chest, wary eyes blink back at them. “Trouble in paradise?” Eyes wide, they both shriek a quick: No! “Good." You smile, standing up and gathering your stuff. “Take care guys!” you yell out.

“Bloody handsome, I tell you!” Alex makes one last attempt as you throw your head back in laughter. His girlfriend stomps her foot in frustration.

“We fucking suck at this.”

I’m sure she thinks Lily is interested in Leclerc. 

Alex clicks send.

-

“You guys are probably wondering who’s next?”

“We’re not-”

“Well, don’t you feel lucky; it's you, Max!”

The two time World Champion throws his head against the couch as he waits for instructions. “See, now you’re not going to like it…” The Dutch lifts his head up, blue eyes swirling with confusion. “You have to let Charles win.” He scoffs.

“No. No way in hell.”

“Mate!” Pierre shrieks as he eagerly displays his scribbles to the group. Messily drawn, is Max handing over a crappy looking trophy to the Monegasque. At least that’s what it looked like. “I’m only asking for this one thing from you.” Max continues shaking his head.

“You’re right, you’re asking…Beg.”

The entire room goes silent, except for Lando who has fully awoken from his forty minute nap. “Holy shit, this just got real.” Carlos, who is curled up next to him for some odd reason, quickly hushes him.

Pierre claps his hands loudly, chuckles, and looks over to where Charles bites down on his nails. He’s about to protest in defense for his long time friend before he raises his hand. “Please. Would you please do this as a favor for this lovesick motherfucker?” He points over at the Monegasque.

Max closes his eyes, clicking his tongue. “No. Beg on your knees.”

“Holy fucking shit,” Lando squeals with a muffled mouth, instinctively pulling out his phone, ready to record. The Spaniard doesn’t even try to stop him, instead he sits at the edge of his seat. 

With whatever dignity he has left, Pierre gets on his knees with his hands pressed together as if he’s ready to pray. “Queue,” he mutters under his breath. The Dutchman raises a hand against his ear and hums. “Max…would you be considerate enough to hand over my dear, dear friend Charles, a win in order for him to stop moping over a girl and actually get her attention for once?”

The blue eyed Dutch stands up firmly in front of him as Lando and Carlos continue to giggle like little girls, waiting for whatever might happen next. Walking to serve himself a glass of water, he finally speaks out. “Fine. Pole. Not my win. Take it or leave it.”

Pierre and Charles share a high five as Lando and Carlos let out a sigh. 

“I always knew they were a little fruity. Look, he even had to take a sip of water after their interaction."

“Congrats!” you yell out in pure happiness when you congratulate your best friend for pole. He jokingly polishes his nails.

“It was nothing, really.”

He’s describing his strategy to you as you happily listen, when Max walks up to you both. “Congrats, mate.” They both share a quick side hug. Wait, what is it that Pierre said to do? Something like-

“He drove like a monster. I couldn’t even taste his dust. I wouldn’t mess with someone like him, in fact, I would marry someone like him.” It's robotic, it's fucking weird, but yeah. He completely nailed it. 

“Are you okay?” Bringing your palm up against his forehead, you teasingly curl a neat brow. He swats your hand.

“Of course! So good. I’ll leave you two alone!” Hurriedly, he makes his way back to his motorhome.

Your plan is shit.

Send.

-

“And we save the best for last.” Pierre walks along the grid, tapping each of them on the head as he goes, almost like a game of Duck Duck Goose. A loud smack follows.

“Cabrón,” Carlos groans as he rubs his head. The Frenchman quickly scatters across the room.

“Harder than I intended,” he mutters. “Anyhow!” His speech is cut short when his phone begins to ring. A panicked look draws itself in place as he turns his screen. Everyone gasps.

“She’s going to fucking know. She’s gonna know and she’s gonna run off and tell her...” Charles begins to curse, nervous ticks.

“...and get a grip. Hellooo? Fine, I didn’t want to do this.” The Monegasque doesn’t have time to react when the right side of his face starts to ring. He groans in pain.

“You punched me!”

“Yeah, he just feels like doing stuff like that today,” Carlos spits out, annoyed, holding a bag of ice against his head. He hands it over.

“You both have to learn to listen!” he tries to defend when Charles jumps over the couch towards him.

“You can’t! I’m going to answer!” He swipes along the bright screen, putting the phone on speaker. “Kika!”

“Pierre, where are you?” the Portuguese complains as he shoots a distressed look towards his friend. Shit. They had-

“Dinner, remember?” 

The Frenchman rapidly puts the phone on mute, rushing his way over to Charles. “What the fuck do I say?” he screeches, staring at the phone like a ticking time bomb. 

“Tell her we’re on our way. Keep it simple.”

He nods. Unmuting, he says, “We’re trying to decide what to wear, give us ten minutes, we’ll meet you at the lobby.”

“You’re getting ready together? Like some sort of fashion show?” Your sweet giggle makes an appearance and everyone is beginning to aww before Pierre throws his hand up. They all keep quiet.

“Exactly. Now give me and Charles some space. Ten minutes, max. Love you, bye!” Launching his phone over at the couch, he smirks. “Where was I?”

-

Carlos finds you talking to a few of the engineers.

“Waffles?” Round orbs glimmer at the sigh of a fresh plate with whipped cream on top. 

“Gimme."

“Charles actually got them for you. I’m just the delivery boy.” You hum, noting to thank your best friend after the race. “Since we’re talking about Charles, boy, he drove so well yesterday, don't you agree?” You nod with a cheesy smile. You’re about to speak before he shoves another piece of bread into your mouth. “Oh! Did he mention during testing he was able to do some donuts? Get this; with one hand.”

“I think Daniel has done that too." He pushes in another piece.

“Yeah? Well, he’s extremely good at chess!”

“He’s shit. I always win,” you confirm as you finish swallowing. Another forced bite.

“But have you ever beat him at tennis? Because he’s really good at that too and handsome!” Eyeing him suspiciously ,you throw the rest of the nasty waffle into the nearby bin. 

“I always win,” you muffle once more, annoyed. He groans andpulls out his back-up waffle behind his back. 

He feeds you one last time as you attempt to push his strong hands away. “Yeah? Well, did you know that he's still in love with you?” The garage grows quiet and they all turn to look at you. You’re covered in whipped cream as he wears a proud smile over what he’s done. Soon, it dawns on him as he rushes to his room.

I ruined it.

Send.

-

The grid goes out for a group dinner, though Lando, Lily, Alex, Max, and Carlos all avoid you. You were all celebrating yet another Verstappen win.

“Good race, Max,” you say as he shares a tight smile. “You too, Charles. Third place with pole is good considering the box you drive.” Max cracks a devilish smile towards the Monegasque.

“It’s the best I could have done, but I’m not too upset about it. It was a fun race overall.”

“Anyone interested in desert?” the waitress asks as she scribbles down a few orders. “Our waffles are actually the most recommended!” she persuades as she makes eye contact with you. You wave your hand in dismissal.

“After this trip, I don’t think I’ll never be able to eat waffles again.” The Spaniard sheepishly hides behind his menu.

You’re too busy gossiping with Daniel about his return to F1, that you don’t even notice when Charles and Pierre slip away. “What do you have so far?” the green eyed boy presses, occasionally looking behind, making sure they were definitely alone.

The Frenchman lets out a sad sigh, laying a large hand on his friend's shoulder, displaying his sympathy. “Very well…” Charles’ eyes begin to buzz with excitement. “Not anything worthy or good.” He immediately deflates.

“What happened?”

“So, apparently she likes some guy named Dennis. Fucking him too, from what I was told. Um, she also wasn’t too impressed with this race weekend as much as I thought she would be…” The Monegasque stops breathing for a second. Did he really ruin his shot once again? Pierre continues with a more light hearted tone. “I was told Carlos didn’t do his part, but look on the bright side! You might have a shot with Lily! Heard she thinks you’re cute.” 

Charles is in the middle of rubbing his temples, when he suddenly stops. “Pierre; Lily and Alex are dating.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

Max, Lando, Alex and Carlos all make their way to the back of the restaurant as soon as they receive the urgent text from Pierre. Meet in da back lol. “What is it now?” Max groans as he adjusts his rolled up sleeves. 

“You see, we were just thinking, how could Lily be interested in Charles when she’s in a stable, happy relationship?” So she says, Pierre finishes.

Alex rolls his eyes, seemingly annoyed. “She doesn’t like him like that! She was just trying to make you look good but it came out wrong.” 

“Maybe…but the whole Max part went to shit because like always, he just had to win!” The Dutch shrugs.

“Mate, you knew my terms and conditions. Plus, she was so happy for Charles regardless, I don’t even think she cares that he didn’t win.” Pierre hums.

“What about Carlos, huh? You said you ruined your shot! You didn’t even do your part, so let’s all just back off, and not blame me for killing Charles' love life.” 

“Ay, ay, ay,” Carlos groans into his hands. “I did my part just the way you said but I did also kind of ruin it,” he shyly adds. “I crossed the line, sorry, but I might’ve ratted you out when I told her you still lo-”

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter anyways.” Charles released a shaky breath. “She’s already seeing someone else.” Besides being quite done with Pierre’s poor plan, they still spilled out apologies for their friend.

“Ugly name, too. Have you ever met a good looking Dennis? Cause I haven’t.” Pierre’s voice lathers with a typical matter of fact, leaning against the wall. Lando fiercely turns his attention.

“Dennis?”

“Yeah, that’s what you told me. You said, ‘She fucks with Dennis.’”

“I said tennis. She fucks with tennis. As in, she likes the sport!” The Brit wheezes hysterically as they all begin to share a panicked look. The Frenchman slowly starts backing away from the group.

“Holy shit, I think Kika is calling me.” Dashing away, he trips over his own feet, shoes squeaking against the glossy floor. Charles is left there more confused than what he was at the beginning of all of this. 

“What do I do now?” he groans, running two hands over his face. 

“Maybe just do what we’ve been telling you to do all along…” Alex suggests as the rest follow in agreement. The Monegasque wears a helpless smile.

“Thanks, but I’ve already tried that before and it’s never really gone my way.”

“Mate, if you really love her, then you have to tell her again. Things could end up differently this time,” Max adds. “All you need to do is say how you feel, and please; never listen to Pierre ever again.”

-

That night, before you both walk to your own hotel room, the brunette holds onto your hand. “Why don’t we go on a walk?”

“Charles, it's too late, I’m tired, and I’m sure you are too. How about tomorrow?” you mumble, clumsily balancing on your feet that have become too sore from all the walking. Desperately, he shakes his head.

“No. It has to be now.”

Nervously, you follow him and it’s like you’re twenty all over again - the first time he told you how he felt. Part of you wants to run away and not deal with any of this, but the more mature side wants to stay. When you were younger, you weren’t ready to face your feelings and that was something you regretted everyday. There was no way you were going to repeat that again. 

Taking a seat on a bench, you both watch the traffic lights. This place might not be home, but being with Charles seems to be the closest thing to it and that itself eases you. 

“Okay…” he awkwardly starts, shifting his sight to face you. Deep down; he also wanted to call it a night. Part of him believes that if he got rejected again, then that would be the end of it all, and things would never be the same, but he had to do this. “Do you remember how we first met?”

You let out a soft laugh. “Duh. You made me cry when you dropped my flowers.” The Monegasque cringes at the image.

“I dropped your flowers,” he confirms. “But I swear to you right now that I won’t ever do that again.” Heartbeat quickens, chest tightens. “I want to be a part of everything that has to do with you; I need it. I need all the sweetness that you’ve brought into my life since we were eight, I need a reason to get up at five in the morning to make waffles or pancakes. I need to hear your laugh because of something stupid I might’ve foolishly done, and I… What I’m trying to say is…you know I need you, but all I’ve ever wanted was for you to need me back.”

Like a deer in headlights, you gaze back, analyzing the way he’s nervously waiting for your reaction. And like the first time around, your eyes soften. “Charles…” He knows it too, because again, this takes him back to that one night at the club. But he doesn’t want to go back there.

“I’ve loved you for the longest time and my only regret has been not fighting for you. Back when we were twenty, I was young, I was naive, and I let myself be tricked into thinking that not having you was ever going to be okay, but it’s not. I’m a complete fool for you and the thing is that I don’t mind it! Sometimes, I feel like if I keep getting pushed away it won’t matter because I’ll still be here trying time and time again. And normally I wouldn’t do stuff like this for anyone but you’re just someone who always stays with me, so how am I supposed to easily forget about you?”

As his words reach an end, you try to speak, but nothing comes up. “I get it,” Charles adds in a bittersweet tone.

“You’ve made me cry countless times.” It’s a declaration - an odd one, too - and Charles is puzzled. Though the little smile drawn onto your rosy lips is a confirmation.

“I know, but I promise that won’t ever happen again. I’m sorry I ever made you cry.”

“Well, if you kiss me…I might just forgive you.”

[luveline]

oooh! just had an idea!!! bombshell reader x spencer where he comes over to her apartment one day on the weekend to suprise her with breakfast/flowers bc they just started dating. however, bombshell is in sweats/no makeup/messy hair when she answers but when she sees its spencer, she FLIPS out/slams the door bc she doesnt want him to see her in that state. spencer, however, is confused ofc because he genuinely doesnt notice her outfit/lack of makeup and thinks she is gorgeous no matter what.

hope this is ok ♡ fem, 1.1k

The song starts slow and ends slower. You could picture Spencer listening to it, his head on your shoulder or yours on his, wired earphones shared between you. 

You grab a pencil to jot a quick post-it note so you'll remember, one knee on your desk chair. You don't want to sit down with the shower running in case you get distracted by your new photo frame.

You and Spencer took a photo to commemorate finally getting together. Or rather, Hotch did, standing behind the camera with an impossible mixture of fondness and disapproval. You look like a true couple with matching graphic t-shirts and beaming smiles, Spencer's arm over your shoulders and yours behind his back. You can't see it without staring; you use all your strength to ignore the photo, pulling your post-it from its pad and tacking the yellow square to your vanity. Tell Spencer about love song from Ocean Boulavard. 

The door to your apartment rings with a knock. If you weren't distracted in your losing don't-think-about-Spencer battle, you'd recognise the timid pattern of it. 

You've been expecting a parcel all weekend. 

"Coming!" you call, tugging a sweater over your vest top, plaid pyjama pants dragging against the floor as you make your way out of your bedroom and into the main living area. "Two seconds!" 

You give yourself a precursory glance in the mirror next to the door before you answer it. You'd never go out like this, but the delivery driver won't see you long. You're mostly clean and fully dressed, though your socks don't match. 

That's another thing to tell Spencer. He must be rubbing off on you. 

"Hello," you say cheerily, pulling the door open with a smile. 

"Hi," Spencer says, big brown eyes aglow at the sight of you, his hands full to bursting. There are enough things in his hands to hide his chest completely. 

You don't have a chance to decipher exactly what he's brought as you flinch behind the cover of the door, not cruel enough to close it in his face, but wanting to. "Spencer! What are you doing here?" 

"Well, you live here." 

His hand comes up tentatively near yours on the door. He doesn't push it further in or attempt to come inside. He might have, if you hadn't squeaked in warning, biting down on the soft inside of your cheek. 

"Is everything okay?" he asks.

"Everything is fine!" You squeeze your eyes closed, your pulse a hummingbird hammering between them. 

"Really?" Spencer asks, taking back his hand. "Can I–"

There's a shuffling sound like he might step forward, and that's the last straw, you're fully panicking as you slam it closed.

A too long silence. Your breath comes unnaturally quickly, your thoughts racing to match. I can't believe I just did that. Why did I do that? 

What do I do? 

"Spencer, I'm naked," you say. 

"You were definitely wearing clothes. What's wrong? I brought breakfast, I thought I'd surprise you. I texted you. When you didn't answer I figured maybe you were still sleeping after last night, but… now I'm thinking maybe I read that wrong."

"You didn't read it wrong! You can always come over!" you insist, looking around behind you as if you might suddenly find a full face of makeup hiding in your sideboard, or a fresh change of clothes hanging on the coat hooks. 

"Okay, so, can I come in?" 

You poke at the sore bit of skin in your cheek with a wince. "Spence, I'm not dressed. Like, I'm not ready. I look like a mess." 

"You looked beautiful. For the two seconds that I could see your face, at least." You breathe in uselessly. An answer doesn't present itself. Spencer offers some wisdom while you panic, but you aren't sure you want to hear it. "We're dating, right? So as much as you clearly don't want me to see you like this, it's gonna happen. Hopefully regularly?" He laughs lightly on the other side of the door. "Can I please come in?" 

Nerves gnaw at your fingers, uncomfortable pins and needles. "What if you don't like it as much?" you ask quietly. You're surprised he can hear you. 

"Do you trust me?"

What sort of question is that? This isn't about trust. This is about you, an image of yourself you hold and that you want others to share, it's why you dress as you do, why you wear your intricate hairstyles, and spend hours upon hours priming and primping.

You want to be pretty deeply, especially in Spencer's eyes. Do you trust him to find you pretty still, without all the extra effort? Pretty from the moment you wake up? 

You wait for the verdict as you open the door again. The handle clicks and lugs, the hinge whining as it swings inward. You step backward to allow him space, meeting Spencer's eyes with an insecurity that doesn't suit you.

He doesn't react at first. His hand tightens around the neck of a sprawling bouquet, wildflowers like a burst of colour against his chest, the long white body of a lily of the valley kissing the curve of his neck. He smells like powdered sugar donuts and the food truck they came from, the story of his obsession a remembered delight. I think of you every time I cross the square to the train station by my place. The warm vanilla smell reminds me of your perfume. But I'm usually already thinking of you. He's been bringing you donuts intermittently for months now. 

He finally smiles at you, all manner of morning warmth flooding the room with him. The sun at his heels, the silky brown colour of his hair, you look up as he steps close, as light silhouettes him, turns the silk to fluff. You can see every detail this close down to the baby flyaways, and he can see the same. 

"How could you think I wouldn't like this?" he asks. His words are hushed with earnestness but yards from hesitant. Spencer is unabashedly, genuinely enamoured with you. "You're so pretty. You always are." 

You beg him silently to hold your face, taking the flowers from his hand. He can read you from that small action alone, raising a deft hand to your cheek. 

You lean into his palm. 

[ajortga]

sweet

pairing: jenna ortega x fem reader

summary: after filming, jenna decides to relax for some coffee, not expecting to meet you and fall in love with girl that makes her knees weak.

word count: 1.9k+

part 2

Jenna can remember meeting you like it was yesterday.

At a coffee shop, not too far from the scream set in New York City.

She roamed around, it was evening, the sun was going to set soon, Jenna could tell the way the sky slightly became yellow, getting the slightest pink.

Jenna liked sunsets.

She had just finished filming for a scene, her headphones were on and she needed some fresh air. 

Her noise cancellation was on, walking the streets as she felt her stomach rumble quietly, she was hungry.

She looked around for a place to snack as she looked around, a famous pizzeria was definitely not what she needed.

She turned a corner and she saw a place that was made out of caramel bricks, plants neatly outside with vines hanging from head to toe, she could see the warm welcoming presence on the inside, lanterns hung from the ceiling.

She didn’t really like coffee.

It was so bitter the first time she tried it, of course she didn't know (till recently) that she ordered black coffee with no sugar or creme and almost choked it out.

So she stopped, if anything it added less sleep along with her insomnia.

But she went anyway, the vibe felt comforting. Plus there had to be more than just bitter coffee.

She pushed the door open, a small ding being heard.

Then she could smell the soft scent of coffee and fresh pastries lingering, she felt her hands cold, but her gaze shifts up, and she can feel her whole body warm, like a cozy fire, suddenly, she felt nothing but a daze of love shock.

Her eyes meet your figure, your hair was in a messy bun, a ruffled beige apron tucked around your body over a blouse, pouring creamer in a latte cup, a flower design being made as you traced the coffee with soft hands.

Your focused eyes shift from the cup to her, she can see a small glow in your warmth, they soften as you smile, waving. Softly, but loud enough to hear over her headphones, you saying, “Welcome!” 

She can feel her lips twitch into a smile, tucking her scarf beneath the nape of her neck, it was already warm enough here.

She looked up at the menu, so much to choose from.. And so many flavors.

She bit her lip, in thought as she was stuck, there was a lot.

But so much coffee, she may have not liked coffee the best, but coffee with this many flavors could change her mind.

She was there for a long moment, until you spoke up, you were in front of her, thinking she was going to order, she was standing in front of the cashier after all.

“Trouble choosing what you want?” You ask, tilting your head.

That took her out of her trance, taking her headphones off and wrapping them around her neck. She finally realized where she was standing, in front of the damn register.

“Oh I’m so sorry, I can be kind of clueless when I have headphones on, uh, um. Oh yes, I’m not so sure what to get, I’ve never been here.”

You give her a smile, and she can swear she feels her legs wobble, she could drown in those eyes. So pretty..

“Don’t apologize, please. Don’t worry, it’s okay not knowing what you want, to be honest I think you would like a drink. I think you would like our french vanilla or pumpkin spice latte.. With a sprinkle of cinnamon. How does that sound? This is just my recommendation, I could be wrong, but I think I can read what people should get pretty well! They end up liking it. Don’t count on me though,” You breathe with a little laugh. You sound adorable when you laugh. Your lips are perfect. Kissable.

She feels something she hasn’t felt in so long, butterflies. 

You were so sweet, something about you made her not want to tell you she didn't like caffeine or the taste. 

You just called her love, if anything the color of love was on her cheeks.

“I.. Um.. Yes, I’ll take that. Can you mix those?…”She was going to say your name but didn’t know it, looking down at your name tag, Y/N/L/N. “Uh.. Oh Y/N."

“Of course I can! One french vanilla spice coming up! Anything else you would like? Our pastries just came out of the oven if you’re in the mood for that.”

You were pretty. Unlike any other stranger she'd see on the street before.

Jenna looked at the display, her hand pointing to where her eyes landed, “I’ll take one of your strawberry croissants, I never tried that.”

“You never had these? These are perfectly sweet and soft! They’re my favorite. That’ll be $8.13 please.”

She grabbed her card and swiped it, and you smiled, “Thank you Jenna, give me 5 minutes or so.” You looked at the name of her card.

You look at the names of her customers from their card, how cute. You definitely wanted her. (Or so her delusional brain thought.)

After a few minutes of sitting down and lost in her thoughts from the music, (possibly staring at you preparing her drink the whole time,) she hears you call her name in the distance.

Something about your voice had the slightest softness, she never loved someone calling her her name more than now. Y/N/L/N. Your name is pretty. It'll be even prettier when your last name is hers when you're married-

She walked up to you and you handed her a light brown tray, with her latte in a cup, the design with a pumpkin with a small heart on it, and her powdered strawberry croissant. 

“Thank you.” She whispers, taking it gently and going back.

She sits down in the corner of the room, a booth with a pumpkin decoration and vinyls hung, she could see the steam fogging in front of her and just realizes how cold it really is.

She smells cinnamon, a small whiff of it.

She likes the smell of cinnamon. It reminds her of her childhood home on Christmas when snickerdoodles were being made.

She smells vanilla too.

She likes vanilla. She likes vanilla more than chocolate.

Her hands lifts the mug to her lips and drinks.

Immediately she feels the warmth seep through her like a gentle river, she hums at the taste.

The vanilla battles the strong bitterness of the coffee, leaving the smallest trail behind.

The pumpkin spice, she can taste it in the cream, it reminds her of fall.

It tastes comforting. It tastes like the feel of a steamy creamy soup that you have when it’s pouring rain outside. 

It makes her feel soothed. Cozy. Like she’s in her own Gilmore Girls show herself. 

Her lips press to the mug for the second time, sipping it again and it tastes so good. It’s not too sweet nor bitter. It tastes perfect. It warmed her whole body up, even with the freezing temperature.

She places the mug down on the wooden coaster, she’s never had a strawberry croissant before. 

And when she has a taste, she wants to buy the whole shop. Why has she never heard of this before?

There's a sweet fluffy cream in the middle, she can feel powdered sugar coating her lips as she licks them. 

It tasted sweet. It was light and delicious, the custard complimenting the sweetened strawberry. Who knew bread could pair with such. 

“Is it okay for you?””

She turns around and sees you, it seems like the rest of the customers had to go out before the pouring rain began to crash harder.

“It was more than okay, it was so good. I need that recipe,” Jenna jokes, making you laugh.

“The croissant is my grandma’s recipe. I remember she  made it when I first started baking in the kitchen. She thought it was so good that she had to put it on this cafe’s menu. For the latte on the other hand, you just have to know balance and what tastes right.”

Jenna’s slim hands waved a 5 dollar bill in the air, in which you immediately shook your head. 

“Take it,” she giggles.

“No, it’s yours.”

"No."

"Yes."

"If you keep it I'll give you my number."

... That was tempting for you.

“I wasn’t a big fan of caffeine in general. It was always too bitter or too sweet. I think it ruined the experience for me to try anymore. Take this as a word that I’ll be coming often,” she gave you a sweet smile, giving you a piece of paper on top of the money.

You looked at her with, a small grin forming on your face as you looked up, “You win. Thank you. look forward to you being a regular. I'll make your coffee extra lovely and sweet next time," you said with a wink that made Jenna blush.

Jenna’s smile never faltered as she left the coffee shop, seeing your number on her phone as she placed it in her back pocket. But as she tried to slide it in, it seemed a bit cramped as she took out the piece of paper that was blocking it. 

A five dollar bill. The five dollar bill she gave you.

She sighed, shaking her head with a small laugh, you were a smartass sliding the money she gave you back into her pocket without her knowing.

She folded it in her hands, looking back at the coffee shop, wanting to give it back and run so you couldn’t do anything. But as she looked back she could see the fairy lights on the sign dimming, your face behind the glass. You gave her a small playful wink as you flipped the sign to closed, your breath blew on the glass, putting a small heart on the fogginess and walked away.

Something in Jenna made her heart flutter, wanting to go to the coffee shop every day. Every. Single. Day.

But why? When she goes to restaurants she doesn’t seem excited to come again.

She could feel her cheeks heating up as she realized it was because of you. She wanted to come because of you and see your face, to see you giving her that smile or calling her name, to hear your voice as you talked to her, to see your pretty eyes glance down to her lips every once a while once again.

4:25pm

maybe y/n: sweet seeing you today, hope you didn't mind some money back, this is all i need :)

4:28pm

jenna: ooh. getting sweet already? hmmm, you're sneaky! maybe i'll pay you another visit tomorrow. (you reacted with 💗)

maybe y/n: aww, for me?

jenna: i wouldn't count on ittt but maybe it's a 50/50

4:30pm

maybe y/n: i don't think a customer would ask for someones phone number as an agreement?

..

4:35pm

jenna: you got me there

maybe y/n: i know i did jen :p

maybe y/n: don't get ahold of yourself, i still have to know you better ml

jenna: then tomorrow is set.

maybe y/n: tomorrow it issss (jenna reacted with a 😗)

She covered her face and let out a small groan as she came home, her back hitting the mattress as she looked up at the ceiling. She could feel a small grin forming on her face as her eyes sparkled, her nose scrunching.

She liked the girl who lay behind the mug of coffee.

She liked you.

-

a/n: wanted to take a small break on requests, i think i should focus on thinking of my ideas instead of doing request one by one from my inboxes, if that makes sense. requests are soon!

i'm not sure if i'll take some because sometimes these requests don't have any of my ideas in mind so it's hard to write something that feels good<3. enjoy this cute long ish drabble that i made a few months back but never finished<3

[lxkeee]

TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN

-PART NINE

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Angst (for now)

Warnings: family trauma/lore

Notes: TSOTSC finally reached 20k words, yippee!

PART ONE | PART EIGHT | PART TEN | NAVIGATION

Azrael looked at the female angel beside him, noticing the lovestruck expression on the girl's face. He looked at her with a deadpanned expression, lips pressed together in a thin line.

Azrael's deep black eyes followed her line of sight, landing on a light blond haired short male angel with rosy spots on his cheeks, Lucifer. Azrael grimaced, watching as Lucifer talked with Michael, Lucifer's twin brother.

Azrael can hear a satisfied sigh left [Y/n]'s lips, Azrael still doesn't know why the girl is so lovestruck with the guy. Lucifer's curiosity is a looming threat, everyone in the high council of angels can feel it but they can't do anything about it as the said angel hasn't done anything yet.

Azrael sighs, grabbing the cloud pillow off the couch so he could sit beside her, the cushioned seat sinking as he sat down. He nudges her, catching her attention.

“I still don't understand what you see on that guy.” he deadpans at her and [Y/n] rolls her eyes at the taller male.

“Do you want me to take out my 50 slide presentation again on why I like him so much?” [Y/n] asked with a raised eyebrow and Azrael flinched, raising his hands in defeat.

“No, thank you.” He mumbled, shuddering as he remembers the time she presented those slides to him, which he still didn't understand why she liked the boy so much. He was zoned out during all of the presentation.

Azrael sighs, chest heavy and tight. He doesn't understand why. The thought of his best friend getting married to someone else hurt for some reason.

“Make sure you won't regret it, you're getting married to him soon.” He deadpans and [Y/n] just laughed, “I won't. He won't do anything to hurt me.” she said confidently.

Azrael rolls his eyes playfully, “You seem confident with that statement.”

[Y/n] scoffs playfully, “Because I know him.”

“Do you really know him?” Azrael retorts back, raising an eyebrow at her. [Y/n] flinches slightly, Azrael is right. She's still 25 years old and so is Lucifer, they're both very young. They still have lots to learn about each other.

It doesn't matter, Lucifer loves her and she loves him back. They have an entire eternity to know each other.

With a long exhale, she turned to look at Azrael, “Maybe I may not know him entirely but I will be able to.”

Azrael just sighs, shaking his head, “Whatever you say [n/n], but if he does something... Don't tell me I didn't tell you so.” he chuckled and [Y/n] rolls her eyes playfully at him, nudging Azrael playfully.

“Hey, I know him. He's my best friend and we've known each other the moment we existed.”

Azrael scoffs playfully at her words, “Who knows? People change.” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. [Y/n] avoided his gaze and turned to look back at Lucifer who seems to notice her.

Lucifer gave her a wink and a charming smile, sending her a kiss to her way causing for her to blush and giggle.

Azrael rolled his eyes at the scene.

“They do and I hope he changes to become a better version of himself.”

After getting married to Lucifer, life felt good. Lucifer treated her so well, bringing her flowers everyday, giving her affections in every chance he gets.

Everything was fine until God created the first ever humans, [Y/n] knows how much of a curious man Lucifer is, naturally, he went out to observe them.

It created cracks in their relationship.

Lucifer began to go home later than usual, occasionally forgetting to give her affections.

And their topics—his topics have now shifted to God's newly created creature, a woman named Lilith.

[Y/n] had to endure the pain and heartache as she listens to her husband talk so fondly about the woman, complimenting Lilith in every possible chance he gets.

But nevertheless, [Y/n] remained to have confidence in him. Choosing to trust him, he is her husband after all. They've been together for many eons, she knows him.

Does she?

No, she doesn't.

Especially on what she's currently witnessing, [Y/n] hid between a large tree in the garden of Eden. She had the urge to check up on Lucifer, her instinct was screaming for her to do so.

Her nails are buried in the bark of the tree, ichor flows out of her fingertips as she tries to prevent a sob from escaping her lips. The wooden sensation of the wood against her fingertips, the stinging pain of the scratched skin of the tips of her fingers is what she felt.

With the additional sensation of the aching feeling that came from where her heart lies.

Warmth slid down her cheeks, bringing her gold covered fingertips to feel her skin.

Tears, the tears never seem to stop running down her beautiful yet sorrowful face.

Her eyes locked on to her husband, Lucifer—who looked at Lilith with so much affection in his eyes as he held the woman's hand.

‘Why... Why is he looking at her like how he used to look at me...?’

[Y/n] asked herself repeatedly in her mind. Each word got louder and louder on her mind, and each time she did, pain became more apparent to her internal voice as she asked herself in anguish.

‘Move... I need to leave... Move [Y/n]!’ she cried to herself, her mind screaming for her to leave. To save herself from even more heartbreak.

Yet, she remained still. Eyes fixed on the two.

Her hands slapped over her mouth to prevent sobs from escaping her plump and soft lips, eyelashes fluttering and glistening with tears. Warm sunlight filtering through the strands of her eyelashes, making the redness around her eyes more prominent.

Dull [e/c] eyes blankly staring at the two—her husband and a different woman.

Despite its dullness, her eyes were filled with anguish.

Tired, dull, and swollen.

No longer bright, hopeful, and happy. It's now filled with sorrow, and unimaginable heartache. Something an angel like her shouldn't feel. Yet, Lucifer Morningstar made that possible.

[Y/n] watches as her husband caresses Lilith's face, so affectionately.

Something she didn't experience from him lately.

“You're so beautiful.”

She heard him mutter to Lilith with a voice that carried so much emotion, it was enough to shatter her heart to tiny million pieces.

Finally gathering enough strength, she finally released herself from where she stood. Finally allowing herself to move, flying away swiftly and discreetly.

A single feather was what was left of where she once stood.

She arrived at her shared home with Lucifer, quickly locking herself inside their bedroom.

Her body slouches against the door as she slowly slides down to the floor.

Painful sobs left her lips, shoulders shaking as she buried her face into her hands.

‘No, no, no, no, no... I must be seeing things... Lucifer can't just fall in love with someone that easy...’ she laughs to herself, voice cracking and trembling as she did so.

Shaking her head as she desperately tries to make herself believe her own words.

“This must be a misunderstanding, that's right... I'll ask him when... When he comes back...”

She says to herself, voice lowering to almost a whisper.

‘That is... If he comes home...’

She thought sadly, supporting her shoulder on to her knees, burying her face into her arms. Strands of her hair falling off to the side of her face,  framing the heartbreaking picture of the face that belongs to a heartbroken angel.

‘He can't just... Leave me like that... He can't just break our vows.’

She thought to herself, her hands rubbing her sides for comfort.

She only has herself to comfort herself, her husband isn't here after all.

“When he comes back, the two of us will have a proper and mature conversation... I hope.” she says to herself weakly, picking herself up from the floor. Knees tremble from the weight of her emotions, chest filled with pain and heartache. She can barely breathe, she wonders if she was still breathing.

She felt like a walking corpse.

Wiping her eyes with the sleeves of her dress, the soft material of her dress providing comfort to her swollen and aching eyes.

She dragged herself across the room, finally approaching the full length mirror just by their closet.

She can see how much of a mess she is. Eye bags underneath her eyes, tear streaks evident on her cheeks, her hair a mess. Pale skin and chapped lips from severe dehydration from how much she cried.

‘Is that me...?’ She asked herself, finally processing what she's seeing, finally coming to the realization that the figure in the mirror is her own reflection.

She can barely recognize herself, she doesn't look like that. She doesn't remember looking so tired and so... Sad and pathetic.

‘This wouldn't do, I don't want Lucifer to see me like this..’ she thought to herself sadly, the face of Lilith flashing in her mind.

Lilith, the first ever human woman. Of course, someone as beautiful as her would be someone Lucifer would fancy.

[Y/n] couldn't help but compare herself to the woman. Lilith has bright and blemish pale skin, hers were a sickly kind of pale.

Lilith has bright and hopeful eyes, hers are dull and sad.

Lilith has a beautiful and blemish free face, hers are tired and dark bags are underneath her eyes.

[Y/n] shakes her head, getting rid of the negative thoughts that filled her mind.

“Stop that, Lucifer loved you just the way you are.” she says to herself, yet doubt was evident in her voice.

‘Loved. That's right, he probably doesn't love me anymore.’

She shakes her head once more, ‘Stop that, he hasn't told us that yet... So I shouldn't say something like that...’

‘I'll just clean myself first, make myself presentable. In case he ever comes home.’

She says to herself, dragging herself to the bathroom to freshen up.

He never came home that day.

She lies on their shared bed, coming to that realization as the clock finally hit one in the morning. The bed was cold and lonely, the warmth that was usually beside her isn't present.

Closing her eyes, allowing the tears to glide down her pale cheeks, the tears staining the pillowcase of her pillow.

Past memories flash on her mind, memories of where Lucifer and her were still happy and in love.

“You are my best friend, the love of my life... I am so lucky to be called yours.” Lucifer says to her, kissing her forehead.

They were still teens in love, young and stupid but in love.

“You are so cheesy, stop saying cheesy things you're making me flustered.” she giggles as he twirls her around, bits of the clouds around them fluttering due to their movements.

Lucifer giggles, dipping her effortlessly and presses his forehead against his, “But it's my job to make you flustered, darling.”

She giggles, pink dusting her cheeks, “I love you, Lucifer.”

“I love you too, darling.”

She cried herself to sleep that night.

She sat on the couch of their living room, the early sunlight filtering through the large windows of their home, giving their home some warmth. The warmth makes her forget the coldness of her skin and the numbness of her heart.

Her head whipped to the sound of the door being opened, lo and behold, her husband finally came home.

Her eyebrows furrowed, eye twitching. She was aching to snap at him but she took a deep breath and calmed herself down.

“Lucifer, where have you been?” she asked softly, voice cracking and trembling in each syllable.

Lucifer flinches, jumping slightly from surprise. He was surprised to hear his wife's voice. He didn't expect her to be awake so early in the morning.

He gave her a nervous smile, “Darling, why are you awake so early?” he asked, [Y/n] just continuously tapped her feet against the marble tiles.

“Enough of that, I know you have been spending time with that human.” she says softly and Lucifer's eyes widened, avoiding his wife's eyes because of guilt.

“It's part of my job, love—”

“Stop lying to me, Lucifer Morningstar.” she snaps, eyes glaring at him, “I didn't know telling her that she's beautiful is part of the job? Might I also include... Caressing her face? Was that part of the job? Tell me, Lucifer...”

“Are you tired of me...?” she asked softly, and Lucifer's eyes saddened.

“No, no, no... I can never be tired of you...” he says softly, he's unsure if he's lying to himself or not. But he desperately tries to believe that he's not tired of her. Yes, he still loves her... Right?

He doesn't know the answer to that.

“Then why...?! Why are you spending the majority of your time with her?!” she screamed, her voice filled with anguish as she grips her hair. She swore she ripped some strands but she's too much in pain to care.

Lucifer's eyes widened, surprised by her outburst.

“Because I'm trying to make her feel better because Adam hasn't been good to her and I hope you can find it in your heart to care for her just a little.” he says softly, remembering the things Lilith told him, how Adam was mean to her.

[Y/n]'s eye twitch, the nerve. Why would she care about her?

“Why would I care about her?!” she asked angrily, and Lucifer frowned, “Because I care about her.” he says honestly, annoyance evident in his voice.

“Morning, noon, and night I care about her, yet you cannot spare a single sympathy for her.”

[Y/n] was taken aback, the first time sensing such hostility from him. Her husband defending another woman when all she ever asked from him is his time, some time for her.

“I'm just asking why you're spending so much time with her! I am your wife, Lucifer... I need you too!” She exclaimed, her voice cracking in anguish, “You're barely home anymore and it's getting unbearably lonely in our house, I missed you so, so much... Please.. I need you.”

“For heaven's sake, [Y/n]... Lilith just existed and she's scared and confused and Adam is also not treating her right! She needs someone.” He sighs, blue eyes looking at tired [e/c] ones, he would've asked for her forgiveness for his tone, but he was blind with the sense of duty towards Lilith. He couldn't think straight. Neither of them can.

“So stop being selfish, I'll come back when you have cleared your head, okay...?” he says softly yet a tinge of sharpness in his voice, turning around to leave, his heels clicking against the marbled tiles in each step he took.

The sound of the door clicking as he closed it brought her back to reality.

Her legs gave out as she fell into the cold hard marble floor, kneeling like heaven's first ever sinner. Her sin? Falling in love with heaven's most beautiful angel.

Blinking, she tries to process what just happened.

She and Lucifer just had their very first fight, and she doesn't know how to process it.

‘Azrael was right, I really don't know him at all.’

She thought to herself sadly, wiping her tears with her wrist before a broken sob escaped her lips once more.

She was left alone crying to herself in an empty, cold, and lonely house.

Days passed by, both Lucifer and [Y/n] were ignoring each other, unsure how to approach the other.

[Y/n] remained unmoving in their bed, all alone and cold. It's been so long since she last took care of herself.

“I feel so tired and weak... Heaven's... I feel like I'm about to pass out.” she murmured weakly, turning around to look at the empty spot of her shared bed with Lucifer, to see the said man to be nowhere in sight. He hasn't been home for a few days now.

‘I am so tired... Maybe I should rest for a bit...’ she thought, her eyesight blurring from the lack of sleep, she kept waiting for Lucifer's return but the man was nowhere in sight.

She sighs sadly, her eyes drooping without notice.

She passed out.

She doesn't know how long she was asleep but the moment she woke up she was in Azrael's house, the man told her that she was asleep for days.

And also told her about the fall of both Lucifer and Lilith.

She still couldn't wrap her head around it, refusing to believe it.

Azrael sighs, taking a seat at the edge of the bed of where she was lying down.

“It's true, he and Lilith gave the apple to Eve... I'm afraid work is going to get much harder now that evil exists.” he spoke softly, eyes saddened as he looked at the downcast female.

He's wondering if this is the right time to tell her...

“And another thing... [Y/n]...?” he calls out softly to her, she looks at him with not a single light on her eyes.

“What is it...?”

“You're pregnant.” he says softly, [y/n]'s eyes widened.

“What...?”

[Y/n] gasped loudly as she sat up on the bed, her head whipping around to look at her surroundings.

She's back in her room, weren't she in hell before?

Her breathing was uneven, placing a hand over her chest to calm her fast beating heart.

‘Why now...? Why did the memory have to come back now...?’

Tears were cascading down her cheeks, pitiful sobs leaving her lips.

“Mom...?” a soft male voice calls out, the door to the room opening, the head of Xavier peeking through the small opening.

The boy's eyes widened when he saw his mother crying on her bed.

“MOM...?! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?! ARE YOU HURT SOMEWHERE?!” he asked, immediately rushing to his mother's side, kneeling beside the bed.

[Y/n] shakes her head slowly, “I'm alright, I just got a bad dream...” she admitted softly, small hiccups leaving her lips.

Xavier's [e/c] eyes softened, grabbing a clean handkerchief from his breast pocket that he hasn't used yet, using it to wipe his mother's tears away.

“Do you wanna talk about it...?” he asked softly, his hands gently dabbing the soft cloth on [y/n]'s face, making sure to dry her tear stricken face.

“A little bit...” she says softly, smiling gently towards her son. Her eyes saddened even more, Xavier really looked like Lucifer.

“That's alright, don't pressure yourself mom.” Xavier spoke softly, standing up so he could sit at the side of the bed, leaning down to give a kiss on his mother's forehead.

She nodded and took a deep breath, “I dreamt... About your father.” she says softly and avoids her son's eyes.

Xavier's eyes widened, his shoulders dropping but decided not to speak and allowed his mother to talk.

“I dreamt of the past, how happy me and him were used to and now... I don't even know anymore.” she laughs bitterly.

Xavier's hand clenched slightly before relaxing, “It's not your fault mom...”

“I know.”

Xavier sighs softly, “Mom...?” he calls out softly to her, [Y/n] hummed.

“I think we need to talk about him now, it's a long overdue topic.” he says softly to her and she flinches but sighs.

He's right, she's been avoiding this topic for so many eons. It's time to talk about it.

She sighs softly, “You're right... I think we should.” and Xavier smiled, proud of her. He always has been.

[Y/n] remained seated on her bed, thumbs playing with each other. Xavier has already left to do his usual routine around the house.

Their conversation about Lucifer has already ended, she told him everything about what happened. Told him why she loves him so much and what he did to hurt her.

She told him how she and Lucifer were together for how many years before marrying each other, she told him the things that he did that made her love him.

And she just can't let go of her feelings for someone that she loved for so many eons. It's not that easy.

Even after all these years, she can't forget.

[Y/n] sighs softly, her hair cascading down to her face, framing the shape of her face perfectly. She turned her head to the side to look at the window, she could see the large backyard forest-like garden.

Knock, knock, knock.

Her head whipped in the direction of the knock, she turned to look at the door to see Michael standing and leaning against the door frame lazily.

Her eyes widened ever so slightly, “Michael... What are you doing here??” she asked softly and Michael sighed as he entered the room and closed the door behind him.

“I came as I heard what happened, are you alright?” he asked worriedly, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. [Y/n] smiled and nodded, “Yes,I feel slightly a lot better now.”

Michael smiled though, his eyes still held a tinge of worry in them. He sighs, “[Y/n]... Do you want to stop this mission and let someone else do it?” he asked her softly and [Y/n]'s eyes widened.

“I am perfectly capable of doing this, Michael... Don't worry too much about me.” she says softly and Michael sighs once more.

“I'm just worried for you, everyone is.” he says sternly and [Y/n] frowns, “I know but I can assure you that I'm fine with doing this...”

Michael sighs once more, clearly already used to her stubbornness.

“If you say so,” he says softly before looking back at her once more, “—but if it's suddenly too much for you, don't hesitate to tell me okay?” he says sternly to her.

[Y/n] giggles softly, a small smile on her face, “Yes,I'll keep that in mind.”

Michael smiled and gave her a single nod, “You better.”

Michael's eyes widened, snapping his fingers as he seems to remember something, [Y/n] tilted her head at him, confused.

“I just remembered, Gabriel said she was gonna visit later.” he says deadpanning and [Y/n]'s lips tightened into a flat line, she gave Michael a deadpan, “Yay... I can't wait.” she says unenthusiastically.

Michael laughed softly and ruffled her hair, “I'm sure it wouldn't be too bad.”

“She's gonna lecture me again about how men are shit.” she says deadpanning at him as she remembers the times Gabriel kept on lecturing her about how Lucifer was just a man.

“That is so real, love that for her.” Michael says, nodding.

“Michael, you're a man.” [Y/n] says with a small smile while shaking her head with her eyes closed.

“Am I?”

[Y/n] turned to look at Michael... Who's now a woman now. She deadpanned at him, “Really?” She asked sarcastically with a small smile, Michael laughed out loud. His laughs reverberated around the room.

“I think I look gorgeous as one.” he says sassily, flipping his long blond hair behind his back.

[Y/n] giggled and Michael smiled, proud to make her happy.

“You're so silly, try wearing a maid dress next time.” she suggested playfully at him, giving him a wink.

“Don't push your luck.” he says deadpanning at her and she just laughs, holding her hands up in defeat, “Okay, okay... I won't.” she says in-between giggles.

He smiled and ruffled her hair, “Alright, alright... You seem to be feeling much better now,” he says standing up, giving her a small smile, “—I'll head out first, I still have some work that are needed to be finished.” he says with a long sigh.

[Y/n] giggles, “Alright then... Don't push yourself too much okay?” she says softly, her eyes looking at Michael with worry.

“I won't.” he says and she deadpans at him, “I know you're lying.”

“Shush.”

“I'll see you later, [N/n].” he says with a smile, [Y/n] smiled at him, “I'll see you later, Michael.”

“It's Michelle.” he says sassily once more, flipping his long blond hair dramatically making [Y/n] cackle, “Right... Michelle.. lmao.. I'll see you later, Michelle.” she says in-between snickers.

“Laterz girlfriend~” Michael says sassily as he left, transforming back to his male form as he did so.

[Y/n] was left alone in her room, but this time... She was laughing thanks to Michael.

© LXKE 2024; please do not steal, translate, or repost my works as your own.

TAGLIST I:

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[tlouadditc]

to the brim ... <3

dom!abby x fem!sub!reader

!! not my pic !!

warnings: fluff + smut [MDNI and MEN DNI.] modern!au / no apocalypse, established relationship, softdom!abby [?], i couldnt think of good gifts dont mind it, abby is a gamer confirmed bc i said so, breeding [duh], abby has a breeding strap, filthy talk omg :(( ah!! i think thats it

a/n: ever since i read @seattlesellie's ellie breeding fic... i've been a changed woman. so here's my take on abby! p.s.: no desc. of hair, skin color, size, etc. :) this is also kinda long but enjoy my loves!

you and abby had been together for around 3 long, happy years. the happiest years, you could say. it was weird; you never thought you'd end up like this. never.. imagined being happy with someone, especially someone as outgoing and brave as abby. you were complete opposites, you being more introverted and kept to yourself while abby was loud and proud. even the way she asked you out [buying you your favorite flowers, making you dinner, AND two cute little matching rings] was memorable and creative. you've always loved everything about her.

today, in present time, is your anniversary. every year, you attempt to top the last year. always remembering little details and bookmarking whatever she sent you just for this moment. abby's currently at her office job; "busiest day of the year, but i'll be back in time for dinner," she explained earlier that morning. "promise!" you take this as an opportunity to buy her gifts and plan out a romantic dinner for the night.

lately, she's been wanting these lego flower sets [specifically the orchid ones since they reminded her of you.. :,)], so you quickly bought one. that isn't enough, you think, so you also get custom lego keychains of both of you, making them both wear wedding dresses and smile as bright as the sun. while you're at it, you get her favorite cake, chocolate with strawberry sprinkles, and have "happy 3rd anniversary, my love" on the top. you smile as you reach your apartment, already visualizing her surprised face. i'll get her this year, you think as you step inside.

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱──────────

hours later, you hear a slight knock knock knock on the door. perfect timing, you think, quickly fixing your hair and looking over your outfit. you're wearing a black maxi dress, tight-fitting over your curves, but simple in style. it's kinda casual, but abby insisted on staying home. "it's for my surprise," she argued, a smirk forming on her face as she said it. she always had some quick trick up her sleeve, but you're even quicker.

well. most of the time.

you peek in the peephole, and there she is. she's wearing her glasses today [her bluelight ones you bought for her your last anniversary since she always complained about her headaches], dressed in all black and her hair flowing down her shoulders. her hands hold onto the handle of a medium sized, deep red giftbag. she probably feels your eyes on her, because flashes a pearly smile up to the small opening. no matter how much she smiles, you never get tired of it. you quickly unlock the door and open it widely.

her pale skin turns a slight dusty shade of pink as she looks you up in down, lovingly taking in your beauty. her mouth opens to say something, but all that comes out is a soft, "hi, baby," before she pulls you into a tight hug, exhaling as she wraps her toned arms around you. she feels like.. like something familiar, but nothing you've ever felt before. something comforting. like home.

she pulls back, placing her hands on either cheek. her eyes move back and forth from one eye to another, almost as if she's trying to read your mind, hear your thoughts. "missed you so much, bun." she leans in, giving you two small pecks on the lips before pulling you into one last hug.

"missed you more abs," you murmur, "more than you'd ever know."

she pulls back, smiling as you mirror her expression. after a couple of seconds, she finally looks around the apartment. "babe?" she questions, clearly in shock. there's big, red heart balloons and her favorite candles are lit all around. she's completely enveloped in the candlelit room, gasping when she looks down and sees rose petals scattered beautifully on the wooden floor. you see her eyes lock onto two red, nicely wrapped gifts on the coffee table. "oh. my god," she looks from the living room back to you, astonished. "no, you didn't."

"oh, yes i did," you giggle as you close and lock the front door. she walks carefully over the fresh rose petals into the living room. she sits on the couch, looking up at you with doe eyes. "babe, if this is what i think it is..." she pauses and exhales. all you can do is smile; your excitement cannot be contained. "open them up!" you cheer, sitting down in the armchair beside the sofa.

she picks up the smaller box, cautiously shaking it. she was always great at guessing your gifts. but this time, she furrows her brows in confusion. she shakes it once more, a little harder this time, deep thought written across her sharp face. the scrunch in her nose makes you laugh a bit. "is it.." she starts, but cuts herself off. "i don't know.. actually."

you shrug, "then open it, babe." she sighs before accepting defeat and opening the small package. as soon as she gets the paper off, she gasps and looks up at you. "oh my god!" she exclaims. "wait, are these-" she looks back at the package, back at you, and holds it up to your face. "oh my god! it's us!"

you smile and laugh while she gushes over the fact they look exactly like you two. "how did they get my hair perfect? and the little dresses! i mean, look at it, oh my god." she admires them silently for a few seconds before uttering, "this is gonna be us, bun. i promise."

the uncontrollable urge to smile takes over your face, making your cheeks hurt a bit. she's muttering a thousand "thank you"s before opening the next one; the one you're the most excited about. she's been talking about this since last year, but she never had the time to get it or start it, matter of fact.

she tears the paper once again, immediately stopping in her tracks. her eyes move up to you once again and her jaw goes slack. "oh my FUCKING god," she yells, ripping the rest of the paper off. it's almost like she's a child again; the way her face lights up makes your entire day worth while. she proceeds to nerd out over the set once again, "this is so... oh my goodness i can't even explain how excited i am. thank you so much babe... wow.. i got so lucky..."

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you made her favorite dinner that night, having it freshly prepared for her and still warm on the stove. she just rambles about how she's the luckiest woman in the world to have a beautiful girlfriend and how much she loves you. she continues this throughout the entire meal, making sure she can treat you with the same treatment whenever she can; wiping your cheek when anything got on your face, getting you whatever you needed with no questions asked.. anything. basically, your everyday treatment with her.

after dinner, you both sit on the sofa, talking about your days. mid-conversation, abby randomly gasps.

"and then he was li- uhm... abby?"

"oh my god. i almost forgot!"

"what? what's the matter?"

"your gift!!"

she practically jumps out of her seat, striding over to the counter where she left the giftbag. "can't believe i forgot my gift for my special girl." she scoffs at herself and sits while handing you the bag. it's not heavy, but it's also not lightweight. you scan through your memories of things you've mentioned to her: cats, a wedding ring, books... but it didn't seem like any of that stuff was in here.

you give up, opening the top and looking inside. your jaw drops. you see a long, light pink box. there's fancy gold lettering across the front that you can't read. you take the box out, and unwrap the ribbon bow from around it. as you lift the top up, you see plush flowers and.. a small hello kitty stuffed animal in between the flowers. you squeal as you put the bag down and hug abby tightly, muttering thankyouthankyouthankyou!! all she does is smile and whisper "of course, princess." you think that's it before you realize there's a small pink card and a even smaller box inside the bag.

confused, you pick up the card and analyze the cover. it's a baby princess themed card; such an abby thing to do. you glance over at her to crack a smile, but you realize she has on that devilish smirk plastered across her face. uh oh, you think. "why're you smiling like that, babe?"

"like what?" her smirk grows wider.

that's even more 'abby' like than the card.

you roll your eyes jokingly before deciding to open the card up. inside, there's a paragraph written:

"dear y/n,

happy 3rd anniversary, my love! i'm so glad you're in my life, even after all this time. you'll always be special to me and i see that we will grow old together. i know you've been wanting that bouquet for a while, but i noticed you've been obsessed with something more.."

you glance up at abby once again. she's watching your reaction with that same smirk. what is she up to? you continue to read:

"i hope you noticed the cover of the card; of course, you're my princess, and you always will be. but i always see you looking at baby clothes when we're out, gushing over baby videos at home, etc etc. and even though we technically can't make one.. i can still give you the experience. ;) love your [nonofficial] wife, abby"

you feel your face heat up as you close the card. abby's large, warm hand suddenly starts stroking your leg through the dress, jolting you back to reality. she chuckles, whispering, "mm, you want that, right? you want me to knock you up?" she's getting closer, her hot breath hitting your neck, making you shudder. "want me to fill you to the brim, baby? hm?"

she's kissing your neck, small pecks turning into full-on hickeys. she loves the way you whimper and squirm, the way you turn your head to give her more access. "i'll take that as a yes," she breathes, a small laugh leaving her mouth. her hand travels from your leg, up to your neck and chin, making you turn and kiss her.

"so pretty like this," she coos in between kisses. she's lost in your big eyes, your noises; lost in you. she toys with the thin straps of your dress, subtly signaling to take it off. you, of course, rush to peel it off. after you do so, you're almost completely naked while she's completely clothed. the drastic difference makes you feel small under her predatory gaze. she taps her thigh twice and demands, "come here, princess."

you straddle her lap, your clothed cunt slightly gaining friction against her pants, making you whimper. "such pretty noises," she murmurs, mostly to herself. her hands rest nicely on your sides, right above your hips. "so, tell me," she starts. "how you wanna do this, mama?"

the new nickname makes you feel a slight heartbeat in between your legs. "oh, you liked that, huh?" she comments, smirking as she looks up at your pretty little face. "well, if you want me to take control, i'll do it. i'll do whatever you want, mama."

"use me," you blurt out, desperately needing her right at that moment. you move your hips back and forth, grinding against her crotch to relieve the ache in between your thighs. abby lets out a breathy laugh, "oh, you want it that bad? god, you're so cute."

before you can respond, she's wrapping her arm around your waist and standing up. you wrap your legs around her waist and your arms around her neck out of instinct. she's walking you to the bedroom, just like her little princess.

when she gets into the room, she lays you on your back, legs behind held back by her large hands pinning them under your armpits. your breath is shaky, heartbeat practically bulging out of your chest. she leaves a trail of sloppy, wet kisses from your neck alllll the way down to your bellybutton. "f-fuck, abby," you shudder, her face getting closer and closer to your heat. "what's wrong?" she asks, "what you need, baby?"

"need you inside," you beg, not caring how pathetic you sound now. "oh, i know, baby," she coos, "but i wanna make this special for you, okay? no rushing. just us."

you appreciate her genuine care with your intimate experiences with her, but at this point, the ache was growing more and more painful as time went on. you whine, moving one of the hands pinning your leg to your cunt. "please, abs. need it."

"fuck, babe," her voice is low and husky, almost a growl. "okay, okay, i got you, mkay? i'll treat you right, promise."

her pointer finger ghosts over your swollen clit, forcing a small moan out. small little circles stimulate your bud, drenching your already soaked panties. she groans, "always so wet f'me, my god." as if she can't take it anymore, she practically rips off the small cloth off your aching pussy. the cold air meeting the warmth of your core makes you gasp, squeezing your thighs together in response.

abby's warmth comes back and divorces your legs apart, pinning them back to where they were originally. "gonna take such good care of you, mama," she mutters, kissing your inner thighs. after what feels like an eternity of teasing, she finally lays small, short kitten licks on your cunt. the small feeling of her warm muscle against your clit relieves the burning ache in your core, but only for a second. she lays a flat tongue, collecting your slick as she moves up. your small "oh"s egg her on, fueling her ego as she spreads your lips apart and latches onto your bud. your moans grow louder and louder, legs slightly trembling from how good it felt. little did you know, she's getting off on your pretty little reactions; she's moaning against your bud, vibrations making your legs shake even more.

"ffffuck-," you cry out, gripping the sheets from pleasure. the vibrations send you over the edge, the familiar tingly feeling in your abdomen unraveling. "m'cumming- oh my god," you wail, attempting to close your legs to get away from abby's tongue. her hands grip your thighs, forcing them apart once again. she continues to suck on your clit, overstimulating you. "t-too much - fuck!"

your juices and her saliva mix, coating the bottom of her chin. she finally unlatches from your sensitive, swollen bud and wipes her chin. "sorry, bun," she says, heavily breathing, "you just taste so goddamn sweet, i had to!"

as abby starts to walk away [you assume it's to help you clean up so you guys can sleep], you slowly drift away into a deep sleep..

"nuh uh, 'm not done with you, mama."

your eyes force open, eyes immediately landing on abby's bare chest. she was almost never topless around you - except when you two showered together - but it wasn't a norm in the house. you unintentionally whisper, "you're so beautiful," causing a wide smile to go across abby's kind face. "thank you, baby," she replied, "c'mere." she patted the edge of the bed. her usual black strap was buckled on, intimidating you from the end of the bed.

you crawl to the edge, sitting on your feet when you reach abby. she giggles, "get on your back, babe. you know the drill." you follow her orders, slightly chuckling at your mistake. as she lines herself up with your slit, she caresses your face, just telling you how much she loves you; "love you so much, bun. i'm so lucky to have you, y'know that, right?" she peppers small pecks along your face in between, smiling at your perfect face.

"'m gonna go all in, okay? jus' let me know when i can move," she warns. you nod, slightly nervous. the strap seemed bigger than usual; a bit wider too. it made you think she'd rip you apart with this thing! but as she bottomed out, the sharp painful sensation was short lived and replaced with a more pleasant sensation, the feeling of being full. and not just full, but full of her.

you start to slightly grind on her cock, trying to get any pleasure. the desperate motion making abby smirk and slam into you again, this time earning a loud, pathetic yelp from you. she continues to slam into you, holding your hips for leverage. "yea, keep makin' those pretty sounds for me," she groans, almost in an animalistic way. all you can do is tell her how good you feel, hands gripping onto her toned biceps.

she brings a hand down, right over your abdomen, pressing slightly. "you feel me right there, yea?" there's a slight bulge where her strap is; the sight makes you drool slightly. you nod feverishly, focusing on her voice and her dick pounding into you. her hips snap back and forth, squishing sounds filling the dimly lit room.

she, on the other hand, is hyper-focused on watching the black silicone disappear inside your gushing cunt, a vague white ring forming around the base of her cock. the sight alone has her pussydrunk and practically forming a pool in between her thighs. "such a messy fucking cunt," she murmurs. "wish i could fucking - shit - fill that little pussy up."

your moans become louder, your grip tightening on the meat of her muscles. your head goes back, putting the hickeys she gave you on full display. "oh, you fucking like that, huh?" she places both hands on either side of your head, still fucking you at a relentless pace. every thrust she does, her tits bounce slightly in front of you. her hair frames her face perfectly, the sweat beads racing down her skin as she pounds into you.

"holy fuck," you whimper. her cock, buried deep inside your greedy little cunt, hits that spongy spot inside of you, making you go insane. she smirks, she knows what she's doing. "what? speak up, princess," she speaks, a mocking tone laced in her words.

"s-so good," a choked moan cuts you short.

"you like the way 'm fucking you? like the way that dick got you going crazy, huh?"

a string of yesyesyes's is all you can get out, too lost in your own pleasure.

"wan' me to fuck my baby into you?" she's out of breath, start to whimper, but she doesn't slow down or stop. she just keeps. on. pounding. she's chasing her orgasm, clit bumping against the base of the strap. you're just a wailing, helpless mess under her, begging for her to cum into you. "i need it, p-please, abs!"

she moans loudly as her thrusts get sloppier, slowing down slightly. you feel a thick liquid unleash into your hole, filling you up. the new feeling causing you to gasp, looking down at where you two met. abby fully pulls out after a few seconds, when a gush of white liquid slowly drips out of your stuffed cunt. she whispers, "fuck, that's a pretty sight to see." using one hand, she spreads you open, your fucked-out hole on display, just for her.

you're still trying to steady your breathing, getting more tired by the second. abby sits on the bed next to you, pulling you into her lap. she caresses your face once again, "did so good f'me, baby. happy anniversary." she kisses your forehead, cuddling you close to her body. before you fully fall asleep, she picks you up, bridal style.

"wh- what are you doing?" you question, half asleep.

"gotta clean you up, babe." she giggles at your sleepy voice.

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after a long, warm bubble bath together and a small cleaning session, you and abby finally lay back on the couch to watch a movie and cuddle.

"y'know what, babe?" she asks, shoveling chocolate cake into her mouth.

"what?"

"i wish i could actually get you pregnant."

you slightly giggle at that, "me too."

"i also want to marry you. really badly." she's looking at your face now, reading into your soul.

"we should get married," you speak, thoughtfully. what's the point of her bringing this u-

she gets up unexpectedly, walking over to your giftbag. confused, you ask, "what's up?" she pulls out that small box you saw earlier. "oh, nothing.." she walks in front of you, then dips down onto one knee.

you gasp. is this really happening? right here right now?? someone pinch me.

"y/n, you've made me the happiest woman on earth for the past 3 years we've been together. not to mention the first 4 of us being friends. now, i'm not gonna give a long, sappy speech during this amazing moment," she slightly chuckles, "but i want to ask you.. will you be my wife?" she opens the box, a shiny ring glistening in the light.

you can't see it that well since tears well up in your eyes. you could've never asked for anyone better than abby. she's made you a better person overall. she's been there for you, even in your darkest times. you nod, wiping your tears.

she's slightly chuckling, which you don't realize until your eyes clear. it's.. a minecraft ring. specifically a minecraft rose on a thick band of gold. you laugh and let her slide it on your ring finger.

"i'm sorry," she's still giggling as she gets up from the floor, "i saw this while i was out and i was like 'this is perfect.'" you're also giggling, "it is perfect. thank you, baby."

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱──────────

a/n: abby's such a jokester! anyway hope u guys enjoyed this took forever!

taglist: @unicycl @xnoviee @aouiaa @akenosimp167 @njplatesruler [if you're striked out, i can't tag u!! :(]

[russo-woso]

Would you please do an Esme Morgan x reader, where her teammates are meeting her girlfriend for the first time. Maybe Esme's teammates are prepared to be protective of Esme and give R older sister speechs until it turns out she's just as soft and sweet as Esme.

I told you | Esme Morgan

“So Es, when are you going to bring your secret girlfriend to meet us?” Alex’s scouse accent filled the food hall as the Man City girls ate their lunch.

“I’ve managed to get her tickets to the match against United next week.” Esme replied and all the girls smiled, knowing they could finally meet you.

You, the girl who Esme couldn’t stop talking about.

“I can’t wait to sit down and talk to her. She best be ready for it. I’m gonna tell her that if she ever hurts you or a single hair on your head, she’s dead. I know I’m known for breaking my own nose, but I’m also just as good as breaking other peoples’ noses.” Alanna spoke up and a light hum of agreement was heard throughout the team.

“She’s dead if she hurts you.” Jill agreed, a stern and serious tone in her voice.

“She is so sweet, please don’t scare her away. She means so much to me. I can’t lose her.” Esme defended, a smile appearing as she thought of you.

“As long as she treats you right, then it’s fine.” Steph added and all the girls nodded in agreement.

“She does, I promise. Tell them, Hempster.” Esme commanded, knowing Lauren had met you since Lauren and Esme shared a house.

“She is. She’s just like Esme.” Lauren stated before adding more in. “They’re perfect for each other.”

“We’ll see.” Alanna

————————

“Hi, baby.” You greeted Esme as she opened the door.

“Hi Y/N bear.” She responded, bringing you in for a hug and a kiss.

“I bought these for you.” You told her, showing her the bouquet of flowers. “And I also bought this for you. I walked past it in tescos and I thought of you.” You explained, showing her the small stuffed teddy bear.

“Thank you so much, baby.” Esme said, nearly in tears at your thoughtfulness. She pecked your lips once more before letting you walk in.

After a movie and cuddles on the sofa, Esme tensed up remembering the conversation with her teammates earlier.

“Y/N, baby, you know you’re coming to my match on the weekend?” Esme started and you hummed in response, pressing a kiss to her head. “I told my teammates and they really want to meet you. Of course, it’s up to you. And you don’t have to give me an answer now but it’s—”

“Es, take a breath, love. It’s fine. I promise. I love you and if getting to love your means I have to go through your teammates, then tell them to bring it on. I love you so much, Esme, and that means that I’d do anything for you.” You told her, stroking a loose strand of hair behind her ear before placing a soft kiss on her lips.

“And by the way, the whole team thinks you’re going to hurt Esme so be prepared.” Lauren laughed as she watched the whole thing from the other couch.

You just looked at Esme, confusion written on your face, as Esme shrugged whispering that she’d explain it to you later.

————————

After an eventful Manchester derby, the nerves started to kick in as you waited to meet all Esme’s teammates.

To city’s luck and pure talent, they won the derby 3-1, managing to get the ball past Mary Earps 3 times.

As soon as the match ended, Esme made her way to you.

“Essy bear, you played so well. I’m so proud of you.” You said, enveloping her in a hug.

“I only played 15 minutes.” Esme pointed out, a smile wide on her face, identical to the one on yours.

“I know but you didn’t let any balls past you.” You told her, taking a piece of grass off her forehead, and kissing the place it was in.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” Esme admitted and you rested a hand on her cheek, gently rubbing your thumb over it.

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Now where’s them teammates of yours? I’ve been preparing myself to take them on.” You joked and Esme let out a soft giggle, taking your hand in hers as she led you down to the pitch.

“Y/N!” Lauren cheered as she spotted you walking towards the team.

“Hi, Hempster. Well done on the win.” You said to her, bringing her in for a hug.

“Thanks, Y/N.”

“Hempster, don’t go stealing my girlfriend now.” Esme warned as you and Lauren still hugged.

Esme tickled your sides as you laughed and clung onto Esme.

“Es, stop it.” You giggled, as Esme planted kisses on your face.

“Why? Can I not kiss my gorgeous girlfriend?” Esme asked, a grin taking over her face.

“Of course you can but not when you’re all sweaty.” You said, placing a final kiss on her lips.

The whole team watched from afar, realising that they were all wrong about their thoughts.

You really were another Esme.

“Gonna introduce her, Es?” Chloe asked, and Esme nodded.

“Everyone, this is my girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N, this is the team.” Esme introduced you and you smiled at the whole team.

“Hi everyone. I’ve been so excited to meet you all. Esme’s constantly talking about all of you and it’s so nice to finally get to meet the people she’s been talking about. Congratulations on the win as well. It was such an exciting match to watch.” You said, a smile on your face the whole entire time.

“Maybe I won’t be breaking your nose any time soon. It’s nice to meet, Y/N.” Alanna greeted and your eyebrows furrowed at her statement.

“Breaking my nose?” You asked, confused.

“I thought you were gonna be some drug dealing alcoholic that was gonna break Esme’s heart.” Alanna explained casually and you nodded in understanding.

“I can assure you that I’m not. And before you all have talks with me, I’m not going to hurt Esme. I’d rather die than ever hurt Esme. Esme is my whole heart, I couldn’t be without her.” You told them all as Esme’s heart warmed.

“I couldn’t be without you either, Y/N.” Esme said, leaning down to place a kiss on your cheek.

“Right, we get it. You two are madly in love. It’s nice to meet you, Y/N, welcome to the team.”

“I told you she was another Esme.” Lauren spoke up, grinning at her teammates.

You had a huge smile on your face, and so did Esme.

You had been welcomed into the team although you couldn’t kick a ball to save your life.

And Esme was so happy that you had been accepted by her family, and the fact that she had you in her life.

[emeritusemeritus]

Beloved, Besotted, Betrothed. [Fred Weasley x Reader]

Title: Beloved, Besotted, Betrothed.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader.

Timeline: {DH1} set during Bill and Fleur’s wedding. No mentions of War or Voldy.

Summary: Weddings always bring out the best in people, but you hadn’t expected it to bring out something else entirely within Fred.

Warnings: SMUT. P in v sex, oral sex both male and female receiving, Role-play, illusions to choking, Fred has a wife kink? Innocence kink. Strong cursing. Mentions that reader has curves and large breasts. Established relationship. Talk of marriage.

"Oh Molly you look beautiful," you say as you step into the kitchen, seeing your boyfriend's mum all dolled up ready for her eldest son's wedding. You had been upstairs getting ready with the bride and the rest of the bridesmaids, finishing your hair and makeup when you remembered that Fleur's fascinator was still in the box on the kitchen table.

The men had been tasked with setting up the marquee outside and had been essentially banished from the house as the women got ready, with strict warnings from Molly to not mess about, those warnings no doubt pointedly aimed at Fred and George.

"Oh thank you dear," she says blushing as she fusses with a piece of her hair, flustered by the compliment.

She was wearing a long green and turquoise patterned dress with flowing sleeves, a little satin waistband and a ruffled pattern on her right shoulder that resembled a flower. Her signature red hair had been curled with one section pinned back and decorated with a beautiful antique hair brooch and her makeup complimented her look perfectly.

"It's so nice to be all dressed up," she giggles as she waved her wand slightly, the plates of food on the counter becoming magically wrapped by a covering to keep the food fresh. You smile at her, nodding your head to agree as you spot the box from the table, choosing to spend a little time with Molly before retreating back upstairs.

"I wish it were you and Fred getting married today," she says with a sigh, looking out the window towards the Weasley men, and Harry, who are all trying to erect the tent. Your chest swells as you spot Fred looking so handsome in his suit, minus the blazer jacket, his golden waistcoat glimmering in the sun as he concentrates on the spot he's lifting with his wand.

"Molly," you playfully scold, knowing exactly what she meant by that. She gives you a little look where she pretends to be contrite for just a moment before scrunching her nose up and shrugging.

Fleur was not her first choice of daughter in law as she'd admitted to you more than once that she found her bossy and rude and had questioned the longevity of their relationship as she believed they were rushing into things, that the physical attraction between them was the most prominent reason why they were together.

Truthfully, you quite liked Fleur. She could be a little off handed with some of her comments, a little too quick to say what she thought rather than consider the effect of her words but you always thought it could be because of her having to mentally translate before speaking English. You couldn't deny that she had not made clever moves to try and impress Mr and Mrs Weasley and had inadvertently criticised their home, the family and Molly's favourite singer, Celestina Warbeck, all in the same sentence. If you hadn't been so protective of the Weasley family, you'd probably had actually found it impressive that she'd managed to offend nearly everyone in the household in less than two minutes.

You'd met during your sixth year at Hogwarts when the triwizard tournament had taken place and had become good friends with her and two of her Beauxton schoolmates Colette and Clemence, both of whom were also bridesmaids.

"I'm just saying," Molly says with a little knowing smirk. "I can't wait to have you as my daughter."

"Then you'll have to talk to your son," you quipped, casting one last look back outside to where the men were still trying to get the tent up straight, seeing even from afar that Fred's tongue had slipped out to rest in his bottom lip, something he did when he was concentrating hard.

"Believe me I will," she says with a smile, reaching out to pat your shoulder before walking over to the sink to busy herself.

You grab the box with Fleur's fascinator in and return back upstairs to finish getting the bride ready. Once Fleur was ready, you quickly changed into your bridesmaid's dress, each of you helping zip the others up before smoothing out your curled hair in front of the mirror.

The dress was a beautiful grey silk with a blue undertone that clung to every one of your curves, perfectly tailored to your body. Each dress was just slightly different but all had the same structure and little cape over the shoulders that was reminiscent of their Beauxbaton school uniform, a little ode to their magical roots.

"Fred will die when he sees you in that," Colette says as she appears behind you in the mirror, a smile tugging at her glossy lips as she looks at you. Her accent never failed to make you smile, hearing her try to pronounce 'Fred' in such a thick, French accent was always a little humorous to you.

"Oh hush," you say, casting one last glance at your body, smoothing out any lines in the silk.

You had to admit that you did feel incredibly sexy in the dress, though it was still modest in principle, it definitely showcased your features splendidly. Your breasts were considerably fuller than the other girls who all had slim figures and small breasts whereas you had a more hourglass figure that was openly showcased in the dress, something you knew Fred would enjoy greatly. You'd had to make adjustments to the cups of the dress multiple times in fittings as your breasts didn't fit in the same style as the others and so with a little ingenuity from the tailors, they'd adapted your dress to hold your chest a little better.

You checked the time and saw that there was still half an hour to go before the ceremony was due to begin and so you began to clear away the makeup and beauty stuff that littered the room.

Fleur's mother knocked on the door a little while later and you decided to leave them for a private moment, just Fleur, Gabrielle and their mother.

You passed Ginny as you walked down the stairs, seeing her eyebrows shoot up as she looked at you. Ginny had not been a bridesmaid, on account of her dislike for the bride. Bill hadn't been offended and truthfully neither had Fleur but you still felt a bit of guilt at being a bridesmaid at her own brothers wedding when she wasn't.

"Has Fred seen you yet?" She asks, walking in her dressing gown towards her room.

"No? Hello by the way," you replied, a little confused by her smirk but instead of replying she simply giggled and slipped through the door of her bedroom.

You hadn't expected to see anyone except Molly downstairs, knowing that the boys had been banished, but when you reached the kitchen it wasn't Molly that you saw leaning against the counter. Fred.

He was facing away from you, reading the paper from what you could see, his hip resting on the counter as he leaned down, looking devastatingly handsome, even from behind.

"What do you think?" You asked quietly, creeping into the kitchen. You didn't miss his little jump of surprise, which made you bite back a smile as he turned towards you, smirking already as it he was already planning a snarky reply.

The second he turned and saw you, his mouth opened on its own accord, jaw dropping, seeing him freeze as he openly gawked at you. You had to bite back a laugh at his reaction, seeing that it was even better than you'd hoped.

"I," he began to say before clearing his throat, his fingers doing an involuntary dance at his sides as his eyes take over you, before fixing his gaze to your breasts. "I think it's illegal to look hotter than the bride on her wedding day."

You laugh and watch as he seems to bounce back to usual, though his gaze linger a little longer on your curves before he reaches out to you. You place your hand in his and he pulls you gently towards him, delicately placing his arms around you as to not crease your dress.

"Ah, lipstick," you say, pulling away from him as he tries to kiss you, making him frown and pout at your denial of a kiss. "I promise you can mess it up after the ceremony." His eyes a little as he shoots a wicked smirk at you, his hands wandering over the soft fabric of your dress, running his hands over the curve of your waist.

"You look so beautiful," he says, smiling down at you. Even with your heels, he still towers over you with his height.

"And you look very handsome," you replied, reaching up to push his hair back from his face as you smile at each other.

"Well don't you look nice," George says, interrupting your moment, walking in with his bandage wrapped tightly around his head.

You turn and smile at him as Fred grumbles under his breath for his twin ruining the moment.

"How are you feeling Georgie?" You ask, looking at him with concern, even though it had been nearly five days since he received the unfortunate curse, you were still worried about his pain levels and him in general.

"Stable enough to walk down the aisle with you," he winks, earning another grumble from Fred. He'd been overwhelmingly annoyed at not being able to walk with you down the aisle even though he was also a groomsman but Molly had insisted on the fact, knowing it was both tradition and superstition that unmarried couples should never walk down the aisle together. Fred had instead been paired with Gabrielle, Fleur's younger sister, whilst you were paired with George, a rather unfair deal he had stated.

"I better get back," you said, your gaze flickering to the stairs, knowing that you needed to get Fleur ready for the ceremony.

"I love you," Fred says, a surprisingly sentimental tone to his voice that made you pause, his hand now holding yours as he looks at you with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat.

"I love you more," you say teasingly, slowly pulling away from him as you climb the stairs once more to help the bride.

The ceremony was beautiful and the newlyweds looked utterly joyful and in love, with smiles all around. You could feel Fred's eyes on you at multiple times during the ceremony and each time without fail he would either wink at you or smile sarcastically sweetly, trying to break up the formality of the situation.

At the reception, you'd been carrying out your role as bridesmaid flawlessly, helping with gifts, chatting to guests and even helping Fleur go to the toilet in her elaborate, poofy dress. When you returned to the marquee, you could see Fred and Molly chatting in the corner and so you took a seat next to George at the table, resting your head on his shoulder as the early morning and demand of the day began catching up with you.

"Tired, maid of the bride?" George joked as he shifted down a little in his seat so that you would be able to rest your head on his shoulder without straining. You simply nodded in reply, closing your eyes for just a moment before opening them and looking around the room at everyone you loved, all of whom enjoying themselves.

"Mind if I steal my girl?" A familiar voice asks from behind you and you can't help but smile as you lift your head from George's shoulder and look up to find Fred with his hand outstretched, ready to steal you away. You place your hand in his and he leads you to the dance floor as a slow song begins to play.

"This is familiar, eh princess?" He smirks, taking your waist in his other hand as he pulls you close. "I thought nothing would ever top your Yule ball dress but you always manage to surprise me." You smile up at him and can't help but study his gorgeous features, feeling like the luckiest woman in the world in that moment. Memories of the Yule ball danced in your mind, Fred's long hair, your glittering dress and the fun you had that night making a smile erupt on your face.

"You know, when we get married I hope there's none of this crap," he says, looking around at the slightly overdone decorations, curtesy of Fleur's imagination and her father's wallet.

"When?" You asked, a little teasing smile tugging at your lips, "that's a little presumptuous don't you think Weasley?" He smirks, spinning you gently in his arms before pulling you back into his chest, holding you even closer.

"Princess I've been calling you my future wife since the moment we first met, ask George," he chuckles slightly, still rocking you in his arms. "There's no one else I would ever want to call my wife."

You smiled up at him and reached up to press a kiss to his lips in the middle of the dance floor, not caring once bit about the mass of people around you. He kisses you back immediately, also unfazed by the people around you as you sink completely into the moment, just the feel of Fred around you and the sound of the music in the background.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look?" He says dreamily, his hand stroking the spot on your waist where it resides.

"Not in the last hour," you tease with a smile.

"Then I must apologise, a woman as beautiful as you deserves to be told constantly."

"I think you're drunk," you say with a blush at his words and he chuckles whilst shaking his head.

"Just in love," he replies giving you a look of utter adoration that takes your breath away.

You dance for a little while with Fred before George steals you away for a dance, then Bill and then Arthur. You laugh as Arthur twirls you around, seeing Fred doing the same to Ginny not too far away from you. You'd never felt more loved and included than you did in that moment, feeling like a Weasley already. Fred eventually steals you back from his dad as a more rambunctious song comes on and you dance wildly around the dance floor between both the twins, no longer caring about holding your composure or ruining your dress as you fling your arms about, jumping around with the younger guests.

You couldn't help but tease Fred as the night carries on, dancing a little more provocatively as the upbeat music continues, swinging your hips as you dance. You lightly grind against him acting as if it was an accident at first but he soon realises exactly what you're doing, his hands coming up to grip your hips hard as he stands behind you and leans down to talk in your ear so you'd hear him over the music.

"I know what you're doing princess," he says breathily in your ear, pressing his crotch tightly to your backside. Apparently your little deviant plan was working as you felt his semi-excited member pressed against you which made you smirk.

You soon around and Fred immediately places his arms around you, caging you into his body.

"Want to sneak away?" You said quietly with a little devilish smirk as you flirt with him, "you know, I won't be able to get out of this dress all by myself."

"Let's go princess," he says with a little smirk, patting your bum twice before taking your hand and leading you out of the tent back towards the house. You looked around you, checking that no one was watching but it all truthfulness you couldn't care less.

The house was still deserted when you entered, with all the other family members and guests still partying outside. Fred stopped at the base of the stairs as you began to bunch up the bottom of your dress to climb the mountain of stairs and suddenly lurched at you, picking you up bridal style earning a little surprised squeak from you and a chuckle from him.

He attempted to kiss you whilst you were in his arms and ascending the stairs but you quickly put an end to it, knowing that he'd most likely bang your head on one of the many wooden banisters or worse due to being distracted. As soon as you stepped through the door to his and George's room, he slammed the door shut with his leg, still carrying you as he went to throw you on the bed, briefly muttering a silencing charm before he turns his attention back to you. He wasted no time and crawled on top of you, pausing only briefly to take in the sight of you all dressed up and sprawled out on his bed before he captured you in a delicious kiss.

The kiss deepened immediately with Fred's tongue swiping at your lip, his hands already running over your curves, teasing both himself and you as he puts off touching you in the places you desperately want him to. His kisses begin to extend down your neck, towards your collarbones as you heave out a calming breath, already feeling wonderfully overwhelmed by the sensations. He kisses over your clothes breasts and a flick switches in you, needing to feel his lips everywhere without obstruction. He apparently feels exactly the same and begins fumbling at the little zipper on the side of the dress.

You untie the little cape and let that open wide, waiting for Fred to do the last little clasp which you knew he'd enjoy. You reach for his hand and pull it towards the little clasp in between your breasts which he opens in no time, watching as your naked breasts spill out of the dress, not having been able to wear a bra all day. He curses under his breath as he looks at your bare breasts and you take the time to slide the rest of the fabric down your torso so that you're left in just your lace panties.

"Godric you're beautiful," he says more to himself than anything as he looks over your body before his gaze flicks up to you and he smiles before diving it for another kiss. His hand that he isn't bearing weight on comes up to massage and toy with your breasts and you can't help but run your fingers through his hair, trying to get his mouth where you want it. He senses what you want and immediately begins feasting on your tits, licking and sucking as your sensitive nipples which had you gasping and writhing almost immediately.

You begin pulling as his collar, desperate to get him naked too as you push him, flipping him over so that he was lay flat on the bed. You crawl to straddle him and you don't miss the glimmer in his eyes as your almost naked body climbs over his, breasts swaying as you begin to suck at his neck, making him moan.

You pop open the buttons on his collar, pulling off his tie and open up each individual button, placing a kiss on the newly exposed skin as you make your way down his torso, thankful that he'd taken off his jacket and waistcoat earlier in the night. You almost ripped the shirt off him as soon as the last button was done and you ran your fingers over his gorgeous chest and shoulders, running down his stomach until you reached his little happy trail.

You moved down on the bed so that you were face to face with his crotch and began opening the fastenings of his trousers, pulling them over his hips and down his legs, leaving him in just his boxers, the outline of his impressive length clearly visible. You placed a kiss to his cock through his underwear and heard him groan, knowing he was watching your every move.

You looked up at him and saw his intense gaze, making you smirk as you tugged at the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down, his excited length springing out and falling onto his lower belly as you tug away the underwear, discarding them across the room. The sight of him bare before you, his perfect cock already hard and leaking was enough to make your mouth water and you couldn't help but lean down and press a few fluttering kisses along his length, feeling it twitch against your lips in excitement.

Maintaining eye contact with Fred, you gave him your sexiest look and leant down further to take his cock into your mouth, licking all the way around the sensitive tip as you tasted him. He groaned and shoved his head back against the bed at the sensation as you took more and more of him into your mouth, running your tongue along the veined underside of his cock to extend his pleasure. As you began to bob slowly on his cock, you were rewarded with loud groans and curses of your name from Fred, his cock only hardening further in your mouth.

"Godric princess, your mouth is fucking perfect," he groans in bliss.

Your hand came up to support your ministrations as you began to pump the few inches you weren't sucking, running your hands over his balls and giving them a very gentle tug like he liked, all of which making him writhe and groan.

"Princess, get up here," he says, suddenly reaching his hand out for you. You kisses his tip one last time before crawling up his body, his hands immediately reaching for you as he pulls you into him, one hand cupping your jaw as he pulls you in for a sinful kiss.

"Merlin," he says, pulling away as he runs a hand over his face, "you have no idea what these little white panties are doing to me."

"Do they make me look innocent?" You ask with a little smile, kissing down his jaw, eliciting another breathy moan from Fred.

"Yeah, but it's like you're the bride, making me lose it picturing it being our wedding night," he admits, his hands gripping you tighter in his hold, one large hand cupping and massaging your bum covered by the white lace. Your eyes widen a little in surprise, though he doesn't see, as you take in his words.

"That get you going big boy?" You ask breathily in his ear, still nibbling at his jaw as your hands explore his chest, briefly catching his nipples as you roam. "Picturing me as your bride? You like the idea of fucking your new wife?" He curses and moans, hips surging at your words, answering your question.

"Fuck baby," he whines as your hand wraps around his cock and begins slowly pumping him, your thumb catching the beads of precum and rubbing it into his soft tip.

"Maybe you like the idea of ripping off my sweet, appropriate little wedding dress and seeing exactly what's underneath."

He moans louder than you remembering ever being as your speed increases, your words having an evident affect on him.

"Or is it that everyone would know how good you're fucking your new wife, that everyone would know that I belong to you?" His hips start to stutter and you know he won't last much longer, the mixture of your hand on his cock and the words in his ear almost too much for him as he nods along with you, whining and groaning.

"Mrs Fred Weasley does sound good don't you think?" You ask him with a little smug smile at how he curses, hands scrambling to touch your tits as you pump him. "Y/n Weasley, Fred's wife." He's so close you can almost taste it, knowing he's just need a little nudge with the game you were playing.

"You wanna pretend it's our wedding night? I'll let you do anything you want to me husband, let you fuck everything that's yours."

He moans loudly as his hips stutter, your hand working his quickly as your other hand cups his balls as he erupts, ropes of cum spurting from his cock and landing on his stomach as you pump him through his orgasm, not stopping until his body stops twitching. He's breathless as he comes down from his high, chest heaving as a look of bliss falls over his face.

"Merlin," he says, finally opening his eyes to look at you, seeing your wicked little smirk. "Fuck that was hot." You smile as you reach down to grab his shirt from the floor, wiping his pleasure from his abdomen before throwing it back down onto the floor.

"Now, I think it's time I looked after my bride don't you think?" He says with a wicked grin, hands already pawing at you as he cups your jaw, pulling you into another kiss, his other hand creeping over your curves as he suddenly pushes you down onto the bed. His mouth wastes no time in pleasing you, immediately latching back into your breasts as he goes all out, grabbing, toying and sucking your breasts, never leaving the other one left out.

His fingers begin to drift down your body and tease your inner thighs as your legs part in anticipation, your arousal dripping from you at this point. When Fred's fingers finally slip between your legs and he feels the abundant wetness of your panties he curses again, latching onto your nipple and giving a harsh suck making you gasp.

"Mrs Weasley, so wet for me," he says with a smirk, slipping one finger inside your panties and into your waiting hole. You moan out at the sensation, feeling his thumb come up to toy with your aching clit and you can't help but roll your hips, unable to keep still as his fingers work you perfectly. "So good baby, so fucking perfect."

"Freddie," you keen as he adds a second finger, adjusting his angle so that he can press up against your gspot, making you writhe against him. The panties restrict his movements but it doesn't seem to faze him, working his magic on you.

He suddenly pulls his hand from you, making you whine but he quickly grabs and spins you on the bed so that you're on your hands and knees, his ability to manhandle you so effortlessly only furthering your arousal.

He moved to stand behind you, pulling you towards the edge of the bed as his fingers toy with the white lace panties you're still wearing. His hands hook into the waistband and you feel him rip off your panties, pulling them right down your legs, leaving you completely exposed to him. You gasp as the cool air hits your sensitive pussy lips and within seconds his mouth is on you, feasting deliciously on your dripping cunt.

"Freddie!" You moan, pushing your hips back as his tongue slips between your lips, lapping as your clit before slipping into your little hole. His entire face is pressed against your pussy and you can hardly contain your moans as you feel his mouth playing you like an instrument. His tongue circles your clit before he sucks on it in little bursts, making your hips writhe against his face. He alternates between sucking and licking, covering himself in your arousal before he suddenly pulls open your ass and really dives into your pussy, locking his lips around your clit and sucking, tongue circling the little bud.

"Fred!" You shout as you cum, hips rolling over his face as he laps at you over and over in just the right spot, letting you ride out your pleasure.

Your orgasm has done nothing to calm your arousal, if anything it's only spurred on a further need for Fred as you turn and drag him down onto the bed with you, kissing him feverishly as you feel the signs of his arousal renewed against your leg.

"Freddie, fuck your wife," you say, dragging a breathy moan and a curse from his lips as your hands reach out for him in anyway you can get him, hips raising up in desperation.

"I've got you sweetheart," he reassures you as he kisses you one last time before reaching down to kiss your nipples, hands lifting your legs, seeing you beautifully exposed before him. "My perfect girl, so fucking hot."

"Yeah you got a hot little wife Freddie?" You tease, knowing that your words would only fuel his fire.

"The fucking hottest," he growls, pumping his cock twice before positioning himself right at your entrance.

"Give it to me good Freddie, only you can fuck your wife so good like this."

He curses and grabs hold of his cock, tossing your legs into his shoulders as you feel him slowly sink into you, stretching you out as he gets deeper and deeper. You both moan in unison as he moves his hips, hitting all the right spots inside you before he begins to pick up his pace, big hands holding your thighs tightly. He watches as your breasts begin to bounce in time with his thrusts and you can't help but raise your arms up to grab hold of the metal headboard so you can get leverage to raise your hips in time with his, letting the last inch of his sink into you.

"Yeah you like that sweetheart? Your husband fucking you good? Fuck you are so tight," he says, eyes flicking between your breasts and watching his cock disappear into your pussy.

"So good Freddie," you moan out, arching your back as he pounds into you. "Only you can fuck me this good." You right hand slips off the bed frame and you start to circle your clit for a little extra pleasure until Fred notices and bats your hand away.

"Dirty girl, your husband not taking care of you good enough? Is my big cock not enough for you?" He teases.

You begin to whimper in reply, "no it is, so good baby."

He immediately pulls out of you and flips you over like it's nothing, pulling your hips up slightly before he slams back into you. He takes no prisoners with his thrusting as you feel his balls slapping against you, his left hand gripping your hip so hard it'll almost certainly leave a bruise. His right hand snakes around your hip abs begins toying with your clit deliciously and you can't help but rock your hips, your insides clenching around Fred's thick length as you cry out.

"Oh Freddie!" You cry out, feeling thoroughly fucked as he slams into you. "You're so deep!"

"Come on my little perfect wife, I want you to cum all over your husbands cock," he says, leaning down and changing the angle slightly so that he rubs against your gspot making a silent scream erupt from you. The hand that was holding your hip suddenly shifts and he wraps it around your throat as he fucks into you with abandon, his hips stuttering just enough that you know he's close. His hand doesn't squeeze nor put any pressure on but just feeling his long fingers wrapped around your throat whilst he plays with your clit and pounds into you is enough to send you hurling towards your end.

"Freddie Freddie Freddie!" You chant as you cum, nails clawing into the bedsheets as you feel the white hot pleasure erupt within you, your hips rolling back onto his cock as he pounds you even harder, no doubt feeling your walls squeezing him. He suddenly lets go of your throat and scrambles to grab hold of your hips as he slams his length into you once more and holds you tightly to him, buried entirely in you as he cums. You can feel his cock twitching inside you as he shoots his load as deep in you as he can, groaning and cursing behind you as your name falls from his lips.

After a few moments, he pulls out and watches as his cum begins to dribble out of you, cursing once again at the sight. You feel him shift and he presses a kiss to your back before carefully shifting you so that you were lying on the bed as he slips in next to you, instinctively reaching to pull you into his side.

You lean up and kiss him as his arms snake around you, one hand resting gently over your breast, thumb idly passing over your nipple.

"I love you so much sweetheart," he says, pulling off your lips but never really moving away as he kisses you again.

"I love you Freddie," you say, pouring as much love as you can into your words.

"Gonna marry you one day princess," he mumbles and you can suddenly hear the tiredness in his voice.

"If you're gonna fuck me like that again, I'd marry you right now," you said breathlessly, entwining your fingers with his.

He chuckles, squeezing your hand in his as his eyes close, "give me 10."

"I want to be your wife one day," you say quietly a few moments later, no longer teasing. You feel Fred's eyes open and he looks at you with a look you can't place.

"Sweetheart, nothing would make me happier than you being my wife, but stop talking about it before I get hard again."

[leclercings]

Crush | Charles Leclerc x Reader

Genre: Angst, Pining

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: You're in love with your best friend, Charles Leclerc, but he doesn't know it…

A/N: Unrequited love sucks. It inspired me to write this though. Hope you all like it!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Masterlist

A plethora of outfits are casually thrown around your room. You sigh, trying to figure out what to wear. 

You want to text Charles so badly to get an opinion but you stop yourself from doing it. He is out with his girlfriend, and you don't want to disturb him. 

You feel a horrid emotion in your gut.

A pang of jealousy.

The emotion spreads across your entire being and you lie down on the bed angrily, not caring about the mess around you.

You huff, staring at the ceiling, lost in thoughts.

It's always him, isn't it?

Charles Leclerc. Your best friend.

You've loved him for over twelve years, yet you've always accepted the position of a wingwoman when it comes to his love life.

You've watched him switch girlfriends in the blink of an eye, you've analysed every single relationship that he's ever had, you've been a patient listening ear to his love life woes, and you've even set him up with your friends. You remember the name of every single girl he has dated, how they started and ended.

All because you want to be a supportive best friend.

But what about your own heart?

After a lot of contemplation, you choose a green sundress- the colour reminding you of his eyes, and beautiful eyelashes, and how when he looks at you, your heart skips a beat.

You snap out of your thoughts back to your room, looking around. You don't feel like cleaning up. 

Your phone pings with a notification. It keeps buzzing, and you try to find it among the stack of clothes everywhere. 

You feel a firm cool object in your hand, buried deep in the middle of your clothes. You check it excitedly, wondering if he has texted you.

You feel disappointed when you see it's from your Mom. She wants you to bring wine for today's lunch.

You try to calm down. You're acting like a teenager. You need to let go of him.

But you can't.

You see another notification.

You open your email. It's from Versace. You gasp. You had given an interview to intern at Versace as a Junior designer. 

You've been accepted. You let out a loud squeal.

As you go through the email, you feel so many emotions at once. You're excited as well as nervous. 

There's one catch though- it's in Milan.

Monaco is everything you have ever known. You don't know if moving to Milan for this would be a good idea.

You keep wondering about it as you get ready, wearing your dress. You finish up with your makeup and look in the mirror.

Today is Lorenzo’s engagement party. Charles will be there. So will be his girlfriend.

Another pang of jealousy hits you.

You don't recognise the person staring back at you. Maybe, just maybe, you need a break from all of this.

From your feelings. From Charles.

Milan would be a good change.

*****

You arrive at the Leclerc's home for the party.

Pascale welcomes you with the biggest smile on her face. She has always considered you her family. 

“Hello, dear,” she hugs you tightly.

You control your emotions. Nobody knows your good news yet, but you'll miss this warmth if you move to a new city.

“Hi,” you reply, giving her the wine you've bought.

As if on cue, your mom comes from the kitchen.

“Y/N!” She comes and hugs you tightly. It feels nice to be loved. You've been feeling a little drained these days because of your strong emotions but being with your mom makes it all go away in a second.

Love is a powerful emotion. We all crave love in some form or the other- wilting like a flower if you don't get it from the right people.

“Mom.” You speak, adjusting her messy hair. “We need to talk.” You whisper gently in her ear and she nods.

“Pascale,” You address Pascale, “Could I steal my mom for a moment?”

“Sure,” Pascale replies.

You and your mom go to the balcony. Your mom looks worried.

“What happened, dear?” She asks you.

“You remember I’d applied to Versace?”

Your mom bites her lip nervously, trying to figure out what you're talking about.

It clicks.

“Let me guess, you got the internship?”

You widen your eyes in surprise. How does she know?

She chuckles.

“You're the best there is, love. Of course you were going to get it.”

You sigh. “But it means I'll have to move to Milan.”

“You need the change, my love. I think it's for the best.”

When your mom echoes your own thoughts, you feel like it's alright to move away from Monaco for a bit.

You smile at her.

“Let's join everyone?” 

By the time you get back to the garden, you see Charles is there.

Your heart does a somersault. He's wearing a white shirt and khaki pants. He looks breathtakingly gorgeous. You notice the small figure standing beside him.

“Y/N!” He spots of you and comes to hug. You inhale his sweet scent. It's a little intoxicating. “This is Alexandra, my girlfriend.”

Alexandra gives you a soft smile.

“Hi Y/N, I've heard a lot about you.”

“Hopefully all good things.” You shake her hand.

“Yes of course. Charles admires you so much.” 

This makes you blush. You see Alexandra’s expression changing for millisecond before regaining her composure.

The lunch goes by smoothly. Everybody's happy and gladly celebrating Lorenzo’s milestone.

By the end of it, most people have left. It's just your family and Charles’s family.

You're all sitting in the garden, chilling. 

“Everyone!” Your mom calls out.

“We have a news to share,” she says, after a little bit of a pause.

You know what's coming. You shake your head at your mom who simply gives you a smile.

“Y/N got an internship at Versace!” She squeals loudly.

Everybody starts cheering except Charles, who stares at you, hurt.

You gulp. You hadn't told Charles about it. You had meant to- but he was so busy racing and then with his girlfriend that you never found the right time.

“Congratulations!” Pascale raises a toast, and everyone follows.

You give them a sad smile.

“I'll be moving to Milan in a few months…” You say, avoiding Charles’s gaze.

He crosses his arms. He gets up and leaves to go inside.

Your mom notices it and mouths you to follow him. 

You shrug. She gestures you again and you follow her instructions. 

There's a small hope inside of you. Maybe if you confess what you're going through, you'll feel a little better.

“Charles,” you go after him. He's probably going to his room.

“Charles, wait!” You say loudly, and he pauses just as he's about to close the door to his room.

“What, Y/N?”

“Charles, I'm so sorry.”

“Really?”

You nod.

“I thought we were best friends who told each other everything.”

“I know, I'm sorry. You were just too busy and I didn't want to distract you.”

“You, distraction? Oh come on.”

He leans against the doorframe- a gesture you find extremely sexy. Your heart starts beating faster as he stares at you with his beautiful green eyes. Ones that match with your sundress. Ones that match with nature.

“I'm just a little hurt that you didn't tell me about-”

You interrupt him with a kiss.

He pauses, pulling away, staring at you incredulously.

A split second later, his lips meet your again.

The kiss is passionate. Like a storm. Like two people with buried feelings that surfaced out after a long time.

He leans his forehead against yours.

“Shit,” You both say at the same time.

[vamphrrr]

%% tough love

in which the daughter of aphrodite is head over heels for the most ruthless warrior at camp, & all she can do is try to court her while simultaneously killing her.

— clarisse la rue x f!aphrodite!reader

warnings ; idiots in love, ooc clarisse?, pining on both sides, flirty & bold reader, flustered clarisse, tall & muscular clarisse / short reader (reader reaches her chest), fool clarisse (JUST SAY YES!!), bad flirting attempts (i’ve never flirted), a little bad since it’s my first oneshot srry guys

There she was, the most beautiful girl you had ever know. Tall, dark, strong and powerful in all her mighty glory. She was sparring with one of her brother’s, Lucas? you presumed. They’ve been at it for hours, Clarisse beating him almost every single time. But no matter how many times Lucas fell or almost got his head cut off, he would just not give up.

You needed him to leave already.

It was as if the gods heard your prayers, because one second Lucas had Clarisse cornered, and then the next she swung her spear with all her might. A woosh was heard, nearby leaves shaking and falling with how much strength she used. Her brother's weapon went flying, and so did he.

Oh gods, you thought, biting your lip to stop a giggle from escaping. I love women who could destroy me in a heartbeat.

You watched behind a tree as Lucas struggled to get back up, clearly dizzy from the hit he took. He wobbled a bit, and Clarisse realized he could seriously not stand up by himself. She leaned down, one arm on his waist while the other helped put his arm around her shoulder.

Lucas stood up successfully, and you were able to see that he slightly looked over at your direction for a moment. You gasped, quickly moving so that your face was out of sight. If he saw you, he didn’t make a big deal out of it, but oh, Clarisse sure did once he told her.

She immediately stood up straight, pushing her brother back down to the ground and whipping her head around. A thud followed by a groan was heard as she sped walked towards the tree you were hiding behind. Not knowing that she was getting closer, you twisted your body around, about to peek to where you thought she was. Although, that thought seemed to not go as planned.

“Ow!” you said, feeling your nose hit a solid wall. I don’t remember a wall being there.

A familiar huff was heard, causing you to stiffen. Looking up, you made eye contact with Clarisse who had her arms crossed, muscles bulging from the pressure. Sweat was still clinging on to her face, and you saw as a droplet of water ran down her neck.

She made dirt and sweat look beautiful.

“Oh, hey Clarisse!” you exclaimed, eyes turning pink, pupils dilated. “Fancy seeing you here!”

She raised an eyebrow, ears slightly burning when she saw your eyes change color. “Hm, I’m pretty sure you were stalking us. Unless… you were waiting to spar, princess?”

You smiled, twirling a strand of your hair around your manicured finger, watching as Clarisse got a little distracted with that move. Oh how you loved when she called you that.

“No,” you shook your head, leaning a little closer to her. “I just wanted to ask if you were free later today.”

Clarisse wasn’t surprised. Every week you would do the same thing: follow her around like a lovesick puppy, waiting secretly for her to finish whatever she was doing. Someone would notice you and tell her, teasing her about how she held the heart of an Aphrodite girl, to which she glared at. Then she’d turn around to see you standing there, looking like the prettiest flower in a field full of plain boring wheat. She’d walk to you, and as soon as you’d see her, your eyes would turn pink. Which was a very endearing thing that she’d be an idiot to not know what it meant.

“Like I’ve told you countless times,” she began. “I’m busy.”

Which was true. Unfortunately for you —and her—, your timing was gods awful. As the counselor of the Ares cabin, she was expected to lead the new and younger demigods on a weekly camp journey through the wild. That, plus the fact she was in charge of training clumsy kids, did not give her a lot of free time. And it seemed like you always had a knack for asking things at the wrong time.

You looked up at her through your eyelashes, pouting your lips a bit in what you hoped was a cute way. “Awe, I was really hoping to take you out on a date this time. You know, I heard the little lake by the strawberry fields is a really good place to make out.”

Clarisse gulped, leaning her shoulder against the tree, feeling her heart beat faster than normal. Gods, she could not believe you just said that.

These Aphrodite kids are a danger to society.

She cleared her throat lightly and composed herself. “Well that’s a real shame princess. I guess you’re gonna have to find out if that’s true with somebody else.”

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Don’t kiss anyone else.

You gave her a pretty smile, touching one of her forearms with your fingers, painted nails tracing her scars. “But I don’t want anyone else. I want you.”

Oh, I really hate you. Clarisse thought.

“A-and like I said,” she breathed out, cursing at herself for stuttering. “I can’t.”

She moved away from your touch, taking a big step back, hating for the first time that she was in charge of all her siblings. She’d get punished if she didn’t do her duties. But, would it really be that bad?

“Ah,” you let out, eyebrows furrowing a bit, immediately being replaced by your eyes brightening. “Well then, maybe next time!”

“I—” Clarisse started, not being able to finish her sentence because you swiftly turned around, walking away. She clenched her fists. If only you stayed for a little more while, she would’ve gave in to your date. Cursing at herself for being a good counselor and taking her duties seriously, she groaned loudly.

You heard her, practically smelling her regret. Smirking to yourself, you laughed, knowing the affect you had on her. Others might have given up, taking her constant “I’m busy” as a sign of rejection, but not you. You’re the daughter of Aphrodite, goddess of love. You know when someone wants you, you can sense it. And, well, every time you’re with Clarisse, the love and longing that she had for you was strong. You know she feels the same way. It’s just a shame that she’s always so busy.

Oh well, maybe next time.

[jade-jini]

HI been thinking abt g!p loser yunjin getting emotional during sex 😭 can i request a somno one where she comes home drunk late at night, looking for reader only to see her asleep on their bed! yunny getting hard at the sight and emotional as she remembers their argument, she couldn’t help herself but touch her gf, soft “sorry’s” and “don’t leave me” leaving her mouth as she fucks reader 😖

TW: somno, angst, happy ending ig. Dubcon. Dacryphilia. Yunjin is insecure.

Can I give you g!p loser somno Yunjin? Yes. Is it from the same storyline as the previous posts? Hell no. That baby would never. That one is fluffy fluffy this is a completely different one ok? Ok 🤨. After clarifying that…😈

“Hey, a*hic*nother one, please…” Yunjin said, raising her empty glass, her vision not good enough to catch where the bartender actually was. The guy sighed as he dried a washed glass with a towel.

“Listen kid, we’re already closed. Why don’t you go home already?”

“Home?” Yunjin asked unconsciously, the memories of that day hitting once again.

——————————Flashback—————————

You guys were supposed to get home together after a long day. Yunjin was gonna pick you up after your last class of the day, the orange sky and sunlight hitting against her own hair as she waited for you. She had a nice flower in hand, excited to give it to you. Softly placing it near her nose to smell it one more time, she made herself blushed thinking about your smile once she saw you. However, you were not alone. Her smile dropped right away as she left the flower fall somewhere.

There you were, standing with a friend she very well recognized. It was this one girl from the women soccer team of the university. Yunjin knew her name, everybody knew her name. But she never liked using it, making it clear she did not like this person at all.

“She seems to like you a lot…” she murmured after the first time she saw you talking to Yeji.

“I like her too, she’s a good friend, and she’s friends with Yeojin already so it’s cool” you explained, apparently not getting the message right away.

“Hmmmm, not what I meant but whatever..” she said as her pout got bigger, letting go of your hand and crossing her arms in front of her chest. That’s when you finally noticed.

“Huh Yunjin, are you jealous?” You asked, trying to stop a giggle.

“Maybe? I mean she’s athletic and popular, and you’re so pretty, baby. Who wouldn’t want you? I wouldn’t be surprised if one day you decide you want to give her or somebody else a chance…”

“Omg shut up, that could never happen. I love you. You, Yunjin.” You told her, taking her hand and kissing her cheek. You didn’t have eyes for nobody else but Yunjin, so you didn’t wanna hear none of that nonsense.

“Yeah but still…” she murmured, and you simply sighed and continued walking hand in hand, trying to be extra sweet and clingy to your girl to distract her from those thoughts.

You thought it was cute the first couple times, but then her attitude started becoming more serious every time. It wasn’t your cute girlfriend being a little jealous and protective. It was like a completely different person taking over your sweet girl. You guys have already had more arguments about this situation. They were never too bad.

Until today.

“Oh, hi baby!” You greeted your girlfriend once she met you guys, smiling at her like you did every time, with love and excitement like it was the first time you saw her.

“Hi, Yunjinie.” Yeji tried, as always, to be on the good side of the taller girl. Yunjin just looked at her, nodding at her and humming. She looked back at you.

“Ready to go? Maybe we can go get something to eat at your favorite restaurant before getting home.” She asked while smiling at you only, not wanting to acknowledge the other girl’s presence more than necessary.

“Oh nice! Wanna join us before going home, Yeji?” You asked your friend, knowing she lived very close to your building. Yunjin’s smile left again, rolling her eyes.

“Oh! Actually-”

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be today?” Yunjin murmured, a bored tone that she didn’t try to hide. In her mind, this was the least rude she could be towards Yeji.

“Huh Yunjin…” you warned her, a challenging tone growing in your throat and your eyes telling you weren’t gonna tolerate that.

“It’s ok, y/n.” Yeji said with an awkward laugh, trying to avoid yet another conflict. Unfortunately, she has been present before when your girlfriend showed clearly discomfort with her presence near you. “I can’t go anyways, Lia’s class must be almost done, and we have a date today so…” she commented, a slight blush appearing on the girl’s face. “Anyways, see you later.” The older girl said with a smile, waving her hand as she walked away quickly to go pick up her own girlfriend. You smiled and waved back at her, and once you turned back at Yunjin, her face was still showing she was upset. You shook your head, starting to walk. She followed you behind.

“What, you’re gonna leave me here now?” She asked as you didn’t give her a chance to walk beside you. You rolled your eyes.

“What the fuck, Yunjin?” You asked her as you slowed down a bit so she could catch up. “I’m tired of you being rude to every friend I have. First it was Chaeyoung and Yeojin and now-”

“Yeojin wouldn’t stop touching you! Am I supposed to be ok with that?!” She interrupted you, her voice getting a little louder and shaky.

“And now!” You interrupted her back, making her go quiet. “She barely looks me in the eye when you’re present ‘cause she knows you get easily jealous.” Yunjin scratched the back of her neck as she opened the car’s door for you. Once she got in the driver’s seat, she spoke again. Her voice changing to a sadder one.

“I’m just scared of losing you, y/n. You know that…” she said, as she started driving. You looked at her, examining her face. You could tell she was in distress about this. However, being insecure didn’t give her the right to treat your friends bad. You stayed quiet for a little while as she drove. Once you were walking to your apartment, you spoke again.

“I’ve told you Yeji has a girlfriend, yet you’re still treating her like this.” You heard her huff.

“Am I supposed to believe that?”

“Excuse me?” You looked at her with a frown, clearly offended.

“If she had a girlfriend she wouldn’t be stuck to your side all the fucking time.” Yunjin said, her voice getting deeper than normal. She was very upset, but so were you.

“Because she’s my friend, Yunjin! Friends spend time together! Why can’t you understand the concept of that?” You told her in the same tone, seriously tired of the constant fighting about such an insignificant thing as you hanging out with your friends.

“I don’t spend all the time stuck to my friends.” she remarked once you opened the door.

“Even if you did, I wouldn’t be making these scenes because I actually trust you. Do you even trust me?”

“It has nothing to do with that-”

“Do you even trust me, Huh Yunjin?!” You asked her again in a louder tone. You were not gonna let her evade this question. Yunjin didn’t like your tone nor the accusations. So instead of processing what she actually felt, she acted impulsively.

“No! I don’t trust you nor your fucking flirty friends! I’m tired of all this!” She yelled, her breathing becoming irregular.

You went quiet, feeling your heart hurt. The girl you loved didn’t trust you. You’ve done everything in your power to show her she’s your one and only. That nobody else comes even close to her in your heart. Yet her insecurities were hurting you both.

“Then go.” You said after you swallowed the lump in your throat, your eyes already getting watery.

“What…” she whispered, starting to panic as she felt her heart sink.

“Trust is the most important thing in a relationship, with honesty. If we don’t have that, we don’t have nothing.”

“Oh my god I am so sorry, y/n… I didn’t mean to say any of that.” She tried apologizing, the weight of her words hitting her. Hard. She fucked up.

“If you don’t even trust me, then why haven’t you left?” You asked her, feeling that even speaking was hard at the moment.

“I’m sorry. I’ll work on it. Please give me another chance, baby. Please.” Your girlfriend said, trying to hold your hands but you put them close to you avoiding this, such action breaking her heart a little more ‘cause you’ve never rejected her touch before.

“I’ve been patient and understanding but your jealousy just keeps getting worse. I need some time right now…”

“No! Please don’t.. please baby, don’t say that…” tears were threatening to come out already, her hands trembling at the idea of losing you.

“At least for tonight. I need to think about us, please go Yunjin.” You almost begged, voice getting softer due to the sadness taking over the anger now.

“y/n, please…”

“Just leave, Yunjin. I need some space today, please.” You said, not even looking at her. You couldn’t, because if you did you would ask her to stay and you actually needed some alone time to calm down. You heard her hesitate, but nevertheless her steps resonated in the now empty room.

————————End of flashback————————

“My home doesn’t want me at home…” Yunjin said as she began sobbing again. The bartender, weirded out, tried comforting her after calling a taxi for the young woman.

“Listen dude, I don’t know who hurt you, but you gotta go home. There’s a taxi outside ok? Just tell them where to go and I don’t know, get some makeup sex or something.”

“Makeup sex? Hmm..” the idea of it already causing an effect on her intoxicated mind. She quietly went home, with only the image of you in her thoughts, feeling her friend reacting to it.

“y/n? Baby are you h*hic*ome?” Yunjin asked once she stepped foot on the living room of your apartment, clumsily looking for you. “I-I’m sorry baby… please I l*hic*love you. Let me show you I love you.”

When she didn’t get a response, she made her way to your shared room. Her messy hair in front of her eyes making it a little extra complicated for her to see where she was going, but she wasn’t that messed up yet. Once she got to the bedroom, she found you deep in your sleep, looking beautiful as ever. She always thought you looked cute when sleeping, but tonight when she noticed how you were using nothing but her big shirt, the blanket barely covering your naked legs, cute wasn’t the word she’d use to describe you.

“God you’re so sexy, so perfect… I could never lose you…” she said as she got closer to the bed, falling sat next to you. The new weight made you move a bit, but it didn’t wake you up. “Please w-wake up, darling. I need you…” she whispered as she fixed her member, that was already getting hard by the view in front of her. Her other hand traveled to your thigh, caressing the skin as she slowly made her way to your ass. With the shirt going up a bit, she could see that you really were using nothing but her shirt.

“You knew I was c*hic*oming, Hmm?” She hummed, getting rid of her jacket and unbuttoning her pants to get her hand inside them, touching herself on top of her boxers. Soft groans escaping Yunjin’s lips as she felt her member getting harder and harder. She couldn’t help but put your shirt a little higher, leaving kisses on your stomach. Her lips slowly going up until she was kissing your chest, going from one nipple to the other. She was straight up moaning against your chest as she slowly sucked on them. With her dick already out of her pants, she needed to have you. She needed to prove to you she loved you always. As she made her way between your legs, she slowly started stroking her cock, licking her own lips before starting to eat you out. Yunjin could feel you softly moving under her, but you were a heavy sleeper. “So good.. tastes so good, baby.” She said as she made out with your pussy in such a messy but sensual way. The little whimpers coming from her as she stimulated both of you, and the little groans you’d let out in your sleep, were the only sounds Yunjin’s ears could catch. “P-please don’t leave.. if you do.. You’d break my heart..” the taller girl said, kissing your thighs, the idea of you actually leaving being an option got her sad again. As her eyes got watery, she fixed herself better between your legs, her member against your now very wet cunt, making sure to get herself wet too so she doesn’t hurt you. More soft sounds were coming from you, similar to the ones you do when awake. Yunjin’s clouded mind was thinking that maybe, if your body was reacting to her like this even when asleep, then you didn’t really want to leave. “Oh fuck…” she moaned as she slowly entered you. “Please don’t leave, I’m gonna miss this pussy too much…”

She started thrusting inside you slowly, sighing as your tight pussy grabbed around her so good every single time. She loved how well your bodies understood each other, and the thought of it being like this even when you’re not awake got her dick twisting inside you. This didn’t stop her from being sad though, knowing that after your argument that day, you probably wouldn’t have accepted this so easily.

“Please…” Yunjin whispered, her voice breaking in between pleads, tears threatening to fall “please d-don’t leave me.. I can be better than them.. p-promise..” she sobbed, the warmth of your body bringing both comfort and sadness, scared the next morning you’d be gone.

“What.. what the.. fuck? Hmmm.. Jen?” You murmured as her rougher actions slowly started to wake you up “w-what are you-”

“Please l-let me do it, if you’re gonna leave..” she said in between sobs “let me have you one last t*hic*ime..”

“W-who said I- fuck~ was gonna leave, baby?” You asked her, confused in between moans. Your hands automatically hugged her shoulders as you felt her cock reaching those spots inside you only Yunjin could ever get to know.

“I r-ruined it.. but please don’t go. I’m s-sorry, y/n. I love you…” she said, her moves now a little softer and slower. However you weren’t angry at her, how could you when she felt so good deep inside you, and her tears making her look so cute and pathetic, turning you on so much for some reason. You didn’t care to understand it though, your mind also getting clouded by desire for her.

“So cute when you cry. Do you feel sorry, baby?” You asked her, grabbing her face. She nodded eagerly, tears running down her face. “Why.. why are you sorry, tell me.”

“Hmmgh y/n.. I’m sorry for b-being mean, and jealous…” she dragged her words, but you were able to make out what she was saying. “S-sorry for not asking for permission first…” her sobs became more intense, but so did her thrusts inside you and you weren’t sure if her tears were more sadness or pleasure, probably a mix of both. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry y/n.. Hmm please…”

“Shhh, keep going baby, don’t you dare stop.” You threatened her, her teary eyes making your pussy clench around her cock, making your girlfriend moan loudly “such a fucking good cock, feels so good…”

“Hmmm fuck… you feel so good too, wanna be inside you forever…” she said as she pounded your pussy so good. Even when drunk, she knew what your face was saying, knowing she was hitting you in a spot you really like, getting you closer. “Like this, baby? D-does my cock feel good here?”

“So good… don’t you fucking stop.. Hmm fuck, baby!” You came intensely as her name kept coming from your mouth again and again, music for her ears. The sensation also making her moan, feeling herself too close.

“y/n, I’m gonna come…” she warned you, but you weren’t done with her punishment. You turned you guys around, holding her wrists against the mattress and riding her “oh god…” she moaned as she bit her lip. When you felt her dick inside you twisting, meaning her orgasm was just seconds away, you quickly got off her, ruining her orgasm as she finished untouched “Ahh! F-fuck.. nooo.. fuck!” She whimpered and cried as her cum ended on her thighs and some on her abs. “Why… that hurt, y/n..” she complained, hissing a bit when a cold wet towel made contact with her skin to clean her.

“That’s what you get for being a bad girl.” You told her, receiving a groan for her. When you turned around to see her, her eyes were still full of tears, a pout on her face. You simply laughed before holding her closer to you. “Don’t worry baby, tomorrow when you’re sober I’ll make sure to take care of you good.”

[disneyprincemuke]

is it just platonic?

alternatively: please stop flirting

in which she and logan can’t help but flirt with each other in public, but it’s always disregarded as them being mega best friends

(series masterlist)

“how has the weekend gone for you so far? have you visited any local ice cream parlours yet with oscar and logan?”

she smiles, pressing her lips together. “the weekend, as you can see, isn’t going that well for me. the car is feeling like it’s also a little under the weather, but hopefully it all comes together tomorrow in the third practice,” she sighs. “but no, i haven’t found the time to visit ice cream parlours yet. it’s been a pretty busy week.”

logan, who’s doing an interview next to her, pauses his own interview. he scooches closer to her and pokes his head towards her mic. “that’s because she was preoccupied with her sponsorship with dolce and gabbana!”

“oh, she’s the reason you’re deprived of the goodness of some local gelato goodness?”

“exactly.”

“yeah,” she laughs, rolling her eyes. “but, i’ve got to be looking good somehow — dolce and gabbana have got some of the best clothes!”

“oh, what are you wearing?” logan smiles, flicking his hands to get her to take a step back. “a good relationship’s been fostered after all your hard work, i see.”

“of course! i’m wearing their garden print — i just love flowers,” she beams, twirling around when logan makes the gesture with her hand. she takes a step forward and leans into the microphone. “thank you, dolce and gabbana for sponsoring me. if rihanna is watching this, i’m also begging for a sponsorship; your makeup lasts me entire races.”

“wow, the sponsor is sponsoring!” logan laughs. “she looks so pretty, doesn’t she?”

he looks away briefly, bending down to pet the black cat that has decided to walk up to him with its chin up, begging for some attention. when he looks back at his phone, comments continue to flood in as he livestreams.

“oh, you guys want to see (y/n)!” he beams, slowly getting up from his seat on the couch. “she’s been getting ready for media day for like… an hour now. she’s in her room.”

he knocks on her door, humming when she yells for him to come in. he flips the camera, showcasing his secret girlfriend in all her half-ready glory for the day they’ve got ahead of them.

“look at this pretty girl trying to be prettier!” logan compliments her, his hand darting out to squeeze her shoulder. “tell her to leave some ‘pretty’ for other girls, please!”

“oh, hey!” she smiles, her makeup brush in hand as she swipes on her cheek. she puts her hands down. “you’re live on instagram?”

“yeah.”

“oh, hi, you guys!” she shrieks, puckering her lips out to give the camera a kiss. “as you can see, logan’s being useless when he can simply just be in here with me helping me curl my hair.”

“don’t tell people i know how to do that!” logan frowns, flipping the camera back to him. he sighs when comments start flooding in about how sweet that gesture is. “don’t be fooled — she forced oscar and i to learn how to do her hair when she had a shoulder injury when she was 14. that’s the only reason i do her hair sometimes.”

“yeah! only when we’re late!” she giggles away from the camera. “he’s so thoughtful like that.”

the camera shakes, slowly being pulled away from logan with his confused stare. “show them your outfit too; give the people what they came for.”

she flips the camera, pointing it at logan who holds his arms out. “wow, look at this absolute fashionista for media day!” she jokes. “all the girls will be so all over him!”

“you’d be one of them, right?”

“of course! i’ve got priority in line, remember?”

kidy/n

🎵 taylor swift - king of my heart

liked by logansargeant, sebastianvettel and 49,967 others

kidy/n people don’t even ask to hang out anymore, they just barge into your room and take pictures of you and sit there in silence for hours

view 2,789 comments…

oscarpiastri people don’t even ask me to hang out anymore (i’m talking about you and logan)

user1 this is my thirteenth reason

oscarpiastri same lol

logansargeant MAAAAAYBE if u answered ur phone every once in a while idk

lilyzneimer they always ask me to hang out though

user2 hello song choice?

user3 i swear she’s dating someone but i just can’t place a finger on it

user4 wdym she’s dating logan (i’m delusional)

user5 nurse help

user6 no cause i need them to start dating for the betterment of my mental health

logansargeant lol but i take the best pics so like ???

kidy/n true u should quit f1 and be my fulltime photographer

logansargeant sending my resignation letter rn brb

williamsracing literally don’t do that

logansargeant i only take pics of things i find pretty

kidy/n k

user7 im guna need u to reciprocate the energy maam

user8 logan shooting nothing but airballs

user9 go girl give us nothing

user10 mOVE, white man, i saw hER FIRST

logansargeant photogenic people should always get their pictures taken

user11 thank u for ur service

user12 moving in with my best friend rn hoping they take pictures of me as good as this

kidy/n dont do it its a trap

logansargeant

🎵 5 seconds of summer - lover of mine

liked by kidy/n, oscarpiastri, alex_albon and 38,997 others

logansargeant people don’t even ask to hang out anymore, they just barge into your room and tell you to get up and be ready in 5 minutes

view 1,589 comments…

oscarpiastri yay i was invited this time

kidy/n by default

logansargeant i beat ur ass so bad u wished u hadnt come along

lilyzneimer i was on the winning team hehe

user1 thats a very y/n thing to do actually

logansargeant i know it’s just annoying becauseit’s her

kidy/n i know u didnt just say that

user2 oooooo the girls are fighting!!

oscarpiastri i brought my camera im ready

user3 the matching captions? sus 👁️

user4 ahh the voices are winning

user5 i cant do this again with u rn

kidy/n yeah he’s not original enough to come up with his own

kidy/n omg wow!! so athletic of u!!!

logansargeant if f1 ever doesnt work out 🤨

kidy/n not padel bc i kinda crushed u on the court lol

user6 i need video evidence of this happening

logansargeant I LET YOU WIN STOP TELLING PEOPLE U CRUSHED ME

kidy/n omg how do u still look so cute sweating and all!! a true superpower imo

user7 can u fight?

kidy/n no but u can have him if u want

user8 easier than i thought

kidy/n looking for hot single ladies in ur area?

alex_albon ?

user9 pick mE choose me love me

kidy/n look no further i’m right here baby girl

alex_albon did u just call a grown ass man baby girl

lilymhe romance isn’t dead

[mvltisstuff]

Could i request for a Conrad fisher X reader where reader has a younger sibling who gives her a hard time and her parents favour her younger sibling more. It's the reader's bday on the same day as belly's and her family doesn't get her anything and they don't bother with an excuse either and say they don't really care abt her so it doesn't matter. So Conrad comforts her later and if u don't mind u could include some smut at the end?

(this is my situation rn lololol but without Conrad to comfort me😭)

matilda - c.f

summary: request

conrad fisher x reader

a/n: i’m so sorry love, sorry this is a few days late but you are so loved and appreciated no matter what, hope this makes you happy today <3

it’s been a recurring theme for most of y/n’s life. the overheard quotes about the older sibling had eventually become a reality. they didn’t even wait for y/n to try and live up to them. instead, they just accepted that their daughter wasn’t as good as the rest of their children.

as upsetting as it is, kids experience it too much. y/n experiences it every day, so when she realized it wasn’t normal, that’s when it started to hurt more every year.

this day was supposed to be different. she was so excited, turning 18 and finally being an adult. free of her parents if she wanted to be. she thought that maybe, just maybe, her parents would think of her for a day, and make it about it. alas, the second she woke up and walked into the kitchen, y/n’s hopes were shut down.

“y/n, can you take y/b/n to practice? i’m going out with sharon today,” her mom said, barely even looking at her.

“uh, i’m leaving in a bit, remember?” she speaks, trying to sound as polite as possible. “the fishers invited me over for today.”

“hon, we get it,” her dad talks next, peering up over his glasses and newspaper of the town. “but, to some point, it’s just another day. just do what your mother asked.”

y/n looks at her little siblings at the table, messing around and receiving no repercussions. she still remembers when that was her. playing with her parents, happier than she ever was again. she loves her siblings to death, but she loves herself, too. y/n deserves more than she’s been given, so she confides. she drives her brother to whatever practice, wishing him luck as he whispers a happy birthday, then jumping out of the car to see his friends.

she’s already dressed up for the party for belly. the fishers had welcomed her with open arms, even having decorations and sweets for her on the table. everyone figured she’d have something going on at home, but oh, they were so wrong. she didn’t receive a single birthday message from the people who gave her life, so did it matter? even if she didn’t believe it, at least the fishers knew she was worth it. she was dressed in one of her best outfits, a simple dress with small flowers printed over. she had small wedges and her hair was done neatly. she felt pretty, she is pretty.

she walked into the house, belly hearing the door open first. she skips toward, engulfing y/n in a huge hug. “y/n!” she squeals. “happy birthday!”

“oh, belly! happy birthday to you, you look so cute!”

“are you kidding? your man’s gonna go wild when he sees you!” she whispers, making y/n blush toward the end.

“belly, stop!” she nudges. “he’s not my man… yet.”

they giggle together before moving back into the kitchen where y/n greets susannah and laurel, along with the rest of the boys. conrad stands up first, in a heartbeat. he walks over, almost lifting y/n off the ground in a hug.

“hey! happy birthday!” he tells her, excitedly as he pulls away. jeremiah comes piling in next, saying his words to the person he considers a sister.

“didn’t y/m/n have anything planned?” susannah asked from the pure kindness in her heart.

“oh,” y/n mutters. “we, uh, we did something yesterday.”

conrad can tell when y/n lies. he can read her like a book at this point. he’s spent so long fanboying over her that he knows what she’s feeling. when she’s sad, excited, pissed, he knows. it pulls at his heart when he can sense the disappointment in her voice. he starts to get more alarmed with every drink she takes throughout the day. she’s not even a big drinker, never really taking an offer. now he’s positive somethings wrong.

if y/n’s parents didn’t care about her, they don’t care if she drinks, right? she’s with her friends, she’s allowed to. plus. it’ll take the edge off of the internal wounds her parents have left her with. her feelings on the whole matter start to disintegrate for a while, until belly’s cake comes out and is handed to her. it’s so nicely done, perfect detail and so much love. they put time into her cake and party, and y/n can’t help the jealousy rising up. she vividly remembers every one of her younger siblings birthdays. all of them having their friends and a party, while y/n was just locked in her room on her birthday. the presents and the cheesy grins from everyone were overwhelming every year. she couldn’t help but think about what it could be like with her real family. maybe they could love her as much as she deserves, but in reality, they won’t. they can, but they chose not to, which hurts even more.

y/n stumbles around on the balcony, around people while carefully savoring every last drop of whatever is in her can. she’s probably had too many, but she doesn’t care. it’s almost like it’s reversed itself now. she watches belly open all of her presents and receive hugs and kisses, and the lump in her throat becomes thicker. she thinks of the alcohol as her enemy now, just bringing back the thoughts in her sober mind.

it’s not until everyone hears the clicking of y/n’s heels on the pavement that they notice her walking away. her hand is swiping away the loose tears and everyone looks at conrad. if there’s anyone y/n wants to see, it’s him. they’ve been in love for so long, it’s almost painful to watch. as she walks away, blurry vision from the alcohol and the tears, she tries to grab another can from the box before a hand stops her.

“i don’t think that’s a good idea,” conrad says, gently taking it out of her hand and landing it back in the box.

“oh, great. more fuckin’ judgment,” she retorts, making conrad’s face contort.

“hey, what’s going on? you’ve been off all day.”

“i am, perfectly fine,” y/n slurs. conrad places a hand on her shoulder, and takes them to sit on the steps. his arm is wrapped around her, the other one gripping her hand.

“i know you’re not. it’s ok to not be ok,” he looks at her nose scrunch and her cheeks turn red again. “hey, hey, don’t cry, you’re alright.”

“no,” she weeps out, putting her head in her hands. “i’m a mess! i don’t know what to do, i cant make it any better and i’ve been trying for 14 fucking years!”

“hold on,” he keeps his voice low. “what do you mean?”

“my parents don’t give a shit. they haven’t since y/b/n was born and they didn’t even bother about me anymore,” conrad pulls her into his arms, leaning back as her teardrops soak into his shirt. “i didn’t do anything for this, and belly’s being loved unconditionally without having to fight for it. and i feel like a bitch getting upset over it but-“

“absolutely not. don’t say that ever again. you don’t deserve anything they’re giving you. anything they’ve said to you is a fucking lie. i know who you are. you’re the most perfect, beautiful person i’ve ever met, inside and out. you don’t have to prove anything to them, because they don’t deserve your amazingness,” he speaks to her. it’s nothing but the truth, and nothing he would ever hesitate to say. “and i will spend forever trying to prove to you that you’re nothing but beautiful a beautiful person.”

y/n looks up at him, only bursting into more tears as he laughs a bit. “oh, my god, conrad. i love you, so much. i know i’m drunk but i mean it more than anything.” she’s felt nothing like she does now. she’s never had someone accept her so quickly and with so much appreciation. she feels like she can do nothing but cry and just love on him.

“i’m glad,” he begins again. “because i love you, too. no matter what your parents say or do. they don’t define you.”

and in this moment, for the first time in a long time, y/n knows someone loves her. and he’s not just saying it for comfort. she doesn’t need her parents to be loved. if they can’t do that, there will forever be someone out there who loves her just as much. she knows she’s enough, and that’s enough.