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#she had been worried about him and asking where he was as soon as she started going on raids.
luveline · 2 days
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How about Steve with a reader who already has a kid? Like they're in their twenties and she has maybe 2 or 3 year old. Her ex isn't in the picture so it's just her. Maybe the fic is Steve finally getting to meet readers son/ daughter. Maybe she has to leave their date earlier due to a babysitter problem and Steve just comes along with her and they spend the night together.
ty for requesting <3 mom!reader, 2k
“Try not to show fear,” you’re saying, your hand pulled tight against his. He savours the softness of it even as the concrete steps to your house force you apart. 
“I’m not scared.” 
“I’m just saying, Steve. Toddlers know when you’re scared.” 
“But I’m not scared.” Steve has handled worse than toddlers. If your kid is anything like you, this will be a walk in the park. 
You grin at him and give him one of your cute shrugs, though shyness he recognises from your first date stiffens your shoulders again as you open your front door. 
Your home is small. The first thing he notices is the cramped space walking in, the tight stairs, but the second thing he notices is the amount of life, photographs that deck the walls and colour everywhere, clothes folded and waiting to be taken upstairs, little shoes in a stand by an open bathroom door. 
“Melanie?” you call. “You okay?” 
Melanie appears in the door with a huge watery frown, who Steve assumes to be your young son smiling on her hip, unperturbed. “I’m so sorry.” 
She’d been incoherent on the phone, though eventually squeezed out that it was nothing wrong with Noah. Melanie’s boyfriend appears to have broken up with her over the phone. 
You scoop Noah off of his babysitter's hip, holding him with far more ease. He drops his face with affection to the curve of your bare shoulder. It’s a shame you and Steve had to come home —you’re wearing the nicest dress he’s ever seen. But not a shame, because Steve’s excited to meet the baby. 
You could’ve sent him home. He assumes this means some level of trust and, better, permanency. If all goes well, he might be able to ask you to go steady soon. He’d love to do it tonight. 
“Don’t worry, Melanie, you can’t help it if something bad happens, can you? I’m really sorry about your boyfriend. Do you need me to drive you home?” 
Melanie sniffles miserably. “No, that’s okay, I can drive. I’m sorry.” 
You rub her arm. “It’s okay, really. We were just gonna have dinner and head home.” 
Steve internalises his reaction to that tidbit well. Melanie gives him a sad smile and passes by, her shoes heavy and smacking as she leaves with a mumbled farewell. 
“She’s a little emotional,” you say sympathetically, before turning your attention to the sleepy kid on your shoulder. “Sorry, Noah, guess you’re stuck with mommy and her new friend. Do you want to say hi?” 
Noah lifts his head, following your hand where you point at Steve, a smile like yours on his lips. 
Steve genuinely isn’t scared of kids, he loves them, and he loves talking to them. “Hi, buddy. It’s nice to meet you.” 
You hum appreciatively. “Go on, say hi to Steve.” 
“Hi,” Noah says quietly. 
Your voice is different around the baby, not any less pretty but softer, and quieter. It has Steve lowering his own voice in an attempt to mimic you. “Hi, bud.” 
“He’s my new best friend,” you explain, ushering Steve closer, your hand touching gently to his shoulder. 
Noah’s even more your image now he’s closer, all your eyes and smile and brightness, but he’s got someone else’s nose, and he’s got a bad case of yawns. You laugh at his scrunched nose, wiping your thumb lightly over his bottom lip. “You want to go to bed, sweet boy?” you ask. 
“No… buppy.” 
“You want your buppy. Okay, I’ll get it for you.” You pull your arm through Steve’s. “Let’s go.” 
He laughs and goes happily. Your kitchen is empty compared to the hallway, it’s surprising, but then you open a cabinet for the aforementioned bubby and a couple of things come tumbling out. “Whoops,” you say, popping Noah down on the floor. “Can you put those away for me, please? Thank you.” 
Noah tries his best, but everything he puts in comes tumbling back out, earning a few high-pitched giggles. You crack the fridge open for a pint of cows milk. 
“He doesn’t have formula?” 
“No, you can give them whole milk after a year, but he doesn’t really need it anymore, it’s just to help him self-soothe at nighttime.” 
“Mom, I can’t do it,” Noah laughs. Steve thinks that great, that laughing. He could’ve had a tantrum (Steve wouldn’t blame him). 
Steve crouches down. “Can I help?” 
Noah gives Steve a smile, eyes squinting nearly entirely shut. “Yes.” 
“Okay, awesome. Looks like your mom needs more cabinets for all your stuff.” He starts to pick up the pieces. 
“I need a whole new house,” you say, filling the bottle about three quarters before sticking it in your microwave uncapped. You set the timer for fifteen seconds and prop your chin in your hand, elbow on the counter. Steve thinks it’s your best angle yet, your dress, your arms, the friendly smile you’re wearing that hasn’t once ebbed since the first date. It all gets his chest in a twist. 
He knows getting your baby to like him is make or break. And he really wants to give this a shot, you and him, you and Noah. He thinks you’d be good together. (Maybe he’s crazy and too forward, but you really are beautiful in your dress.) 
“How’s that?” he asks, closing the cabinet behind a tower of bottles and baby bowls.
“Perfect! Good job, baby,” Noah says, tapping Steve on the knee. 
Steve snorts. “Thank you.” 
“He’s going through a phase of saying everything I say,” you explain, yanking open the microwave to test the milk on the back of your hand. 
You deem the milk sufficiently warmed and offer Noah your hand, swiping a takeout menu from the fridge as you pass, and once again grabbing Steve by the arm to drag him along. He’s content to be dragged. You lead everyone into the living room, and he’s again surprised by how small it is. 
You catch his look. “Are you judging me, Harrington?” 
“What? No? Of course not.”
“Messing with you. There’s an extension out back, on the kitchen? That’s where I keep the rest of the toys.” You drop down onto the couch with a sigh. “Come here, babe, come cuddle with mommy.” 
If Noah weren’t in earshot, Steve would make a joke about how he hopes you aren’t talking to him. It’s probably a good thing he doesn’t.
You lay back and Noah climbs up onto one side of you, his hands out ready for his bottle, while your arm stretches out for Steve. “Come ‘n’ sit.” 
Steve sits knee to knee with you. He’s not scared of kids, and he isn’t scared of you, either. He knows exactly what he wants, and he isn’t afraid to let you know it, taking your hand where it lies open on your thigh. 
“What were you gonna get?” you ask, nodding to the takeout menu. 
“I don’t know, I’ll have what you’re having,” Steve says. 
“What if you don’t like what I’m having?” 
“I’ll learn.” 
You tip your chin up at him, beaming. “Yeah? What if I like something completely unamerican?” 
“I gotta learn sometime, right?” He squeezes your fingers nicely. 
“Well, my Noah likes everything.” You kiss Noah’s forehead, stealing his attention from his bottle, bright eyes tracing your face and then your hand where Steve is rubbing the back of it. 
“Then he can have some of everything.”
You and Steve share a loving smile. Smiles smiles smiles, everybody’s getting on, this is the best sixth date anyone’s ever had, best date full stop, though your fifth date was a close second. You and Steve had spent hours together in a park in the city eating picnic foods and soaking in the sun together, your nose brushing off of his ribs, his jacket balled up under your head. He’d kissed you twice that night when you finally, sorrily had to go home, and you’d said, Aw, I really like you, as you held hands on the stoop. He should’ve asked you then to give it a proper go, but now he’s met Noah he figures it’s as good a time as any. 
“Hey,” Steve begins, clearing his throat, “would you–”
“Woh!” Noah shouts around the teet of his bottle. It falls from his lips. “We wiw hands,” he garbles, a bunch of baby flavoured gibberish as he leans over your stomach to cover your hand where it’s held in Steve’s. “Mom!” 
“What, babe?” 
“My hand!” 
“You’re not jealous, are you?” you ask with a laugh. 
“Mom!” he says, slapping your hands insistently with his own. 
Steve loosens your fingers, leaving a gap between your palms. “Quick, bud, put your hand in.” 
Noah climbs onto your leg and presses his hand into the fold, though he grows annoyed at the weird fit, and immediately starts to sniffle. Steve winces, but you’re used to it. “Aw, don’t start the waterworks. Come on, what happened to sharing? We’re good sharers.” 
Steve lets go of your hand. He’s reluctant, sure, but he doesn’t wanna be on anyone’s bad side. Noah cries for a few seconds like he’s forgotten why he’s upset, but he sees your open palm and the cog finishes turning. 
“Hold mommy’s hand,” you say, wiggling your fingers. 
Noah thinks about it. He ends up on his side across your leg staring at you, then at Steve, who smiles at him cheerfully. “He’s so handsome,” Steve says. “He has your face. Guess that’s why you’re so handsome, huh?” He shakes his head at Noah gently. “‘Cos you got all your good looks from your mommy.”
“He knows what that means,” you preen, leaning down to speak closer to Noah’s ear. “Don’t you? You’re my handsome boy.” 
Noah puts his hand in Steve’s with another tinkling laugh. 
“Oh! I see how it is, you wanna be Steve’s friend too. Can’t let me have anything for myself, can you?” 
“No,” Noah says cheekily. 
Steve collects Noah’s little hand in his. “Good!” he says. “You should get everything you want, just like mom.”
“Think so?” you ask. 
Steve nods. 
You cover Noah’s eyes with your hand and move up to press a quick kiss to Steve’s lips. “Like you?” you ask. 
Steve’s just stoked to have someone he likes actually like him back at the same level. Noah squirms away from your hand to squeeze Steve’s tighter. Two someones. 
“Like me,” he says, grinning. 
“Mommy, kiss!” Noah says urgently. “Kiss!” 
You pull your gaze from Steve’s. “Sorry, I’m sorry! Come here, baby, I’ll give you a kiss too. I guess I’m gonna be giving double the kisses I used to, my poor chapped lips.” You kiss kiss kiss Noah across the forehead. 
Steve flusters thinking about it, making a mental note to get you some chapstick. He’d go pretty crazy for a crown of kisses like that. 
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ahgasegotarmy116 · 2 days
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Just Take It | Bonus Drabble 2
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Summary: Jungkook gets mistaken as your father but jumps at the opportunity to show them exactly who he is to you. Pairing: Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) Word Count: 1.6K~ Warning: Suggestive language but nothing crazy lol a/n: So this is another ask by an anon and it was something I'm sure y'all have been curious to see so I figured why not make it a little longer 🤭 p.s. written in one sitting so barely edited Start from the beginning
"Here you go!" the lady at the register says, handing Jungkook one of the shopping bags.
She had been looking at the both of us, no doubt trying to figure out our relationship but went with the one that might seem the most logical with an age difference as big as ours.
"You're lucky! I wish my dad would still buy me clothes at my age. I miss those days where I wouldn't have to worry about anything, especially money" she says, no doubt trying to make conversation while she folds the rest of the clothes and places them inside the second bag
"No you see he's not my-" "She does call me Daddy but I can assure you, I'm not her father" Jungkook jumps in, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me closer, making things a lot more intimate than they had been before.
"I- um-" I stammer but Jungkook decides to make matters worse, looking to gain my confirmation. "Right Bunny" he says, placing a kiss on my neck and making me shudder, completely mortified by this whole situation.
"Oh would you look at the time! We better get going if we want to make it to that thing in time" I say while shaking off his embrace, trying to get away from here as soon as possible.
When I reach out to take the second bag Jungkook gets to it faster and already has a comfortable grip on the handle. "It's okay baby, I got it" he says, going out of his way to sound sickeningly sweet but also extremely intoxicating at the same time.
I smile painfully at him and squeeze out a quick thank you to him and the poor cashier and hightail my way out of there.
"I'm sorry sir I shouldn't have assumed" the girl apologizes but Jungkook tones down the playful nature and assures her that he understood where she was coming from.
"It's alright. I just like to embarrass her when I can" he admits and she laughs, understanding our dynamic just a little bit more. "Have a good day sir" she say, wrapping up the conversation and he returns the sentiment and thanks her for her help.
When he finally decides to leave the store he saunters out to me, his eyes clearly showing his continued amusement from the little spectacle he put on back there.
"I hate you" I pout and he chuckles in response. "Why do you have to do that every time?" I question, dragging out the last word and it only gains me and even more playful Jungkook.
"Because you look so pretty when you're looking at me like that" he says, placing both bags in his left hand and using his right to pinch my cheek, no doubt warm to the touch from the embarrassment I couldn't help but feel back there.
"Let's just go" I say, rolling my eyes at him and making my way out of the shopping center, him following with a bounce in his step before he catches up to me and grabs my hand, making me stop to look at him.
"Let me make it up to you yeah?" he say, the once playful eyes changed to one's full of hunger. I can feel my cheeks start to warm up again, this time from desire instead of embarrassment because I know exactly what's in store.
I don't bother to dignify his words with a response and simply continue on my quest back to the car but the fact that I've held onto his hand and made sure he was following me still made him chuckle, finding me absolutely adorable.
"That eager huh?" he asks and I huff in response. "I'm done with being in a bad mood today so you've got a lot of work to put in mister" I grumble and he laughs at my reasoning, knowing deep down I'm buzzing with excitement. 
"Don't I always?" he says and I stop in my tracks, glaring up at him, "So you think I'm a piece of work huh?" I growl and he holds back his laughter, finding my efforts of being intimidating so endearing. 
"No, I just love taking my time with you" he says, caressing my face and making my sour mood start to fade away, "Isn't that right Bunny" he says, leaning down and placing a chaste kiss on my lips leaving me wanting him even more. 
"Shut up" I say and stomp away, done with his teasing and needing him to put his money where his mouth is. If he's claiming he wants to make it up to me then he's doing it in a very strange way. 
"You know I thought this shopping trip was supposed to be fun and make me feel better" I say once he's finally caught up to me right before I take the crosswalk to get to the parking lot. "I'm having fun. Aren't you?" he teases, acting completely oblivious making me even more upset. "No, I'm not" I say through gritted teeth. 
"Come on Bunny you know I'm just teasing" he says popping the trunk and placing the bags in it before closing it and going to open my door. 
"Hey" he say, grabbing me by my waist and pulling me close, "You know I love you right?" he says once I've cuddled into his chest and I nod, breathing in his scent which always brings be a sense of comfort. "I love you too" I mumble and he kisses me on the forehead before letting go and opening my car door. 
"Let's go home okay?" he say and I nod walking closer but before I'm able to sink down into my seat he smacks my ass. "OW! What was that for?" I whine, rubbing the spot he abused as he dryly chuckles. "That was for rolling your eyes at me back there Princess. Think I wouldn't notice huh?" he says in a deep taunting voice that he knows can push me into submission. 
I shake my head and he gives me a mischievous smile before telling me to get in the car. 
"I thought you were supposed to be making it up to me" I pout once he gets in the car beside me. "Don't worry Darling, once I'm done with you, you'll forget that you were even mad at me to begin with" he says so casually, making my stomach do a flip, my thighs always clenching together, thinking about what lies ahead.
"Just let Daddy take care of you yeah? Gonna make you feel all better" he teases and although I act like I hate it when he talks to me like that, I know he'll always make good on his word. "Don't call yourself that" I groan, trying to hide how easily the simplest words can make me so needy. 
How has he trained my body to react to him so well. I guess it's my fault for letting him have his way with me time and time again. After all, he was my first and I wouldn't want it any other way. 
"You okay baby?" he asks, concerned that he's truly made me upset from how I had spaced out for a second there. "I'm okay" I say plainly and he nods, putting the car into drive and starting on our short journey back home. 
"Thank you Daddy" I say playfully making him choke on his spit, not expecting me to call him that since I had been so against it just moments ago.
"For what?" he questions through coughs and I can't help but laugh. "For all of the things you bought me today" I say and he leans over and grabs my cheek, turning me to face him to share in a sweet kiss while stopped at the red light. 
"You're welcome baby" he says, rubbing his nose against mine before pulling back and sitting properly in the drivers seat, placing one hand on the wheel and the other on my thigh as we continue on our journey once the light turns green. 
"Don't think you're getting away with not showing me how pretty you look in them once we get home though" he says squeezing my thigh and and letting me know exactly what he meant but he chooses to voice it anyway. 
"Need to fuck you in that babydoll nightgown I got you" he growls, "Been thinking 'bout it since I saw it" he growls and I feel myself getting even more wet with every sinful word that drips from his lips. 
"You can't just say that" I say, hiding my face in my hands and he chuckles, using one hand to spread apart my thighs with ease, rubbing a finger along my clothed center to see the damage he's already done.
"Baby's so worked up that she could probably cum from my words alone huh?" he taunts and he doesn't let up the entire time, making me absolutely helpless against him. He knows exactly how I want it and he lets me know that I'm not leaving to bed today, or tomorrow and maybe even the next day. 
"Gonna fuck this little attitude right out of you" he says, pulling into the garage and shutting it behind us. "Upstairs. Now" he commands when he turns off the car and opens the trunk to pull out the bags, making sure to bring up everything because he meant what he said.
Wouldn't be surprised if some of the lingerie doesn't even last a day. But then again it never really does... 
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College Rafe AU where he plays football and they win the big game. because we all saw THE GIF from ‘The other Zoey’ and needed a football au
Was I listening to The Alchemy when I wrote this? Absolutely. My only football knowledge comes from watching Taylor at the games and the smallest from TV shows...so don't take it too seriously. I hope you enjoy <3
Warnings: possible inaccurate football stuff and Taylor references
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The February wind blew as you sat in the stands and watched the team finish practice. You usually were tutoring at this hour, but the person canceled at the last minute, leaving you with an hour to spare before your work shift. You hated when people made you waste your time. Going to your dorm would be pointless since your job was on campus, so you went on the football field to surprise Rafe.  
He ran across the field with the football, sweat dampening the collar of his gray tee shirt. You couldn’t help but worry about him getting cold. This Friday was the big championship game and, as the star player, Rafe couldn’t afford to get sick. No offense to the other players, but the team would lose without him.
Coach called the boys over and you watched Rafe taking off his helmet and wiping his face with the bottom of his shirt, flashing his abs. The few girls sitting lower in the stands were wetting their panties at the sight, dreaming impossible things. These abs were only yours to touch. 
Minutes passed, and then Coach blew his final whistle, calling the end of practice. You went down the stands and called out Rafe’s name, tearing his attention from his teammate’s. When his eyes found you, he changed direction and told his teammate he’d catch up with them later. 
‘’Shouldn’t you be tutoring that swim team jerk?’’ 
You tried to not look too annoyed as you explained the situation. ‘’He canceled on me two minutes before the lesson...’’ 
Rafe closed the last steps to you and pulled you in a loose hug, knowing you didn’t like it when he was hugging you with his sweaty body. You didn’t mind the sweat, it was the smell that lingered on your clothes that you didn’t like. One time, your co-worker asked why you smelled like a football locker room after a game… You’ve never been more embarrassed.
‘’I hope you’re charging him for the lesson. He made you waste your time waiting for him.’’ 
You wished you could do that, but that’s not how it worked. 
‘’How was practice?’’ you asked, changing the subject. ‘’You ready for Friday?’’ 
‘’Coach doubled our pre-practice run because Robbe showed up hungover.’’ Rafe groaned, his legs sore from the extra running. 
You drew your eyebrows together. ‘’It’s only Wednesday…’’ 
‘’Exactly. It’s the second time he shows up hungover this month. He better clean his act up before Friday or else Coach is gonna bench him. Just because his father gives big money to the school doesn’t mean he can do shit like that.’’ 
‘’Fucking entitled rich kids.’’
You scoffed. ‘’Sure, Mr. My-Father-Is-Ward-Cameron-And-Owns-An-Estate-Company.’’ 
Rafe rolled his eyes. ‘’Alright, alright.’’ A brisk of wind blew and he scrunched his nose, his cheeks red from the weather. You reached to touch it, and he leaned into the warmth of your palm. ‘’Mmh, that feels nice. Do you want to get pizza and watch a movies?’’ 
‘’Tempting offer, but I have to get going soon. I have work in twenty minutes.’’ 
You pouted and Rafe pulled you closer. 
‘’Fuck work, stay with me.’’ 
A laugh left your lips. ‘’I can’t do that. I’ll get fired.’’ 
On Friday, you met Rafe’s family in the stands. You had met Ward, Rose and Wheezie before, but never Sarah. She was graduating high school this year and hadn’t been able to make it to any of Rafe’s games. It was nice to finally meet her. 
‘’Ah, so you’re the lucky charm,’’ Sarah said, flashing you a smile. ‘’I’ve heard the team is on a winning streak since you and Rafe got together.’’ 
The lucky charm was a joke Rafe’s teammates made after noticing the team had been winning every time you attended. You thought it was only running around school, but apparently Sarah had heard about it. 
The game was close to begin — seven minutes left before kickoff. From high up in the stands, you watched Rafe bouncing on his feet on the sideline, the stress of the game turned into bursts of energy. Damn, did his ass look good in his tight pants. Beside him, Topper was talking to the coach and pointing at something on the field. Perhaps a tactic idea?
You jumped up when the scoreboard came to light and cheered loudly as both teams were welcomed on the field. The ambiance was unlike any of his past games. Players took their positions, adrenaline coursing through their veins and waiting for the referee to blow the whistle. 
As the game unfolded, your focus was on Rafe. He was running across the field, trying to catch the pass Topper made. He caught it, his fingers closing around it securely, but a beefy guy from the other team came from behind, driving him to the ground with a thunderous tackle. 
You winced at the sight. You hated the contact part of football. 
Soon enough, the second period was ending and the half-time began, the score 17-14 in favor of Rafe's team. Sarah and Rose went to the bathroom while Ward went to get drinks and a snack for Wheezie. 
‘’Do you think they’re going to win?’’ she asked, scooting closer to you. 
She had taken a quick liking to you, the girl who had taken her big brother’s heart. 
You took a sip of your drink. ‘’I don’t know. I hope so. Rafe worked hard this season.’’  
Wheezie nodded. ‘’Rafe knows how to play the game and he knows how to win. I’m confident we’ll win this one.’’ 
The third period had barely started when Rafe crossed the field, carrying the ball. He was running so fast and ducking the other players without losing his speed. You held your breath, sitting on the edge of your seat. As expected, someone from the opposing team went to intercept him, but Kelce saw him coming and tackled him, allowing Rafe to score another touchdown. 
‘’Touchdown, Rafe Cameron!’’ The speakers echoed around the field, causing most of the spectators to stand and yell simultaneously. 
You jumped in excitement, a proud smile lighting up your face. ‘’Yes, baby!’’ 
Later in the game, with only thirteen seconds left on the board in the fourth period, the teams were tied. 
A score of 21-21 flashed on the scoreboard. There wasn't much time left, but you’ve seen Rafe score in eight seconds.  
‘’Come on, Rafe, you can do it,’’ you said, although he couldn’t hear you. 
Beside you, Sarah was holding Wheezie’s hand, stressed. 
The referee blew his whistle, signaling the resumption of the game. The crowd erupted into a frenzy of cheers and applause as Rafe dashed across the field, evading defenders with lightning speed. With just three seconds left on the clock, he made a spectacular leap, soaring over the goal line to score the winning touchdown.
The crowd in the stands went wild. Rafe's teammates rushed towards him in a jubilant huddle, their cheers drowning out the roar of the crowd. In their excitement, they lifted him high above their heads, his helmet coming off in the process.
Wheezie jumped, loudly cheering for her brother. ‘’I told you he would win!’’ 
You took your jacket and headed down the stairs, Rafe’s family following behind as the game reporter declared the grand champions, his voice booming over the stadium speakers. 
A lot of people had the same idea, which caused the large field to get crowded quickly. It was difficult to see over the taller heads, but your lips curled into a grin when you saw him standing at the center of it all, with his coach and teammates around him, looking both exhausted and exhilarated. His hair was tousled, his face flushed from the exertion of the game, but there was a radiant smile on his lips as he basked in the glory of victory.
You called out his name and his eyes searched around the field, high on adrenaline. Once he saw you, he broke away from the ecstatic mob of his teammates and sprinted towards you, his eyes shining with excitement. Without a moment's hesitation, Rafe enveloped you in a tight embrace, lifting you off your feet. You wrapped your arms around his neck, giggling and ignoring the sweat that was transferring to your clothes. 
‘’You did it! It was unbelievable,’’ you said, your voice filled with emotions. ‘’You’re the best, baby. The absolute best.’’
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dazai-ritualist · 2 days
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You said you willing to write another part?! WELL IM ALL FOR IT!!! EREEEEEEERFFHENEN
Ok so perhaps the mother or father of Ken goes a little crazy perhaps they set reader’s home on fire. (It’s up to you if the kids are in it or not. Or perhaps you can make it where they come in one by one.) Reader could probably die from the house fire and end up in hell. Noah could’ve gotten shot while on the job and Emi could’ve gotten murdered(when she’s a tad more older of course) the family back together in hell and reader thinking she was free from Al only to fall into his arms again.
There is always going to be that one angry family member blaming reader and her kids for the death of their loved one.
IMGONNAGETYOUBACK.
[why not read the story first? 😋]
— 6 years after your husband’s passing, he decides that it’s been far too long. and, he enlists the help of a certain imp to retrieve his wife from the over-world.
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hell was not all so bad. it was quite similar to the living world, only with the company of the supernatural. as soon as alastor had arrived in hell, it was quite easy to gain power— inflict terror by using their fear of dying once more and take advantage of their greed for power.
but, this was all just far too boring. killing overlords, quite repetitive. and it was so awfully dull to terrorize sinners on the streets of pentagram city. alastor wanted someone who’d fight back. alastor wanted you.
he was in hell though. was there even a way to get you? of course there is. if it was you that alastor desired so badly, it’d be you who he’d get. he’d find a way, even if he had to claw his way out of hell and drag you down to the dark depths with him.
though, it seems he wouldn’t have to. rumor has it there’s a small start up company in imp city. a company who specializes in killing humans in the over-world given pay. might as well investigate, right?
and so, alastor headed off to imp city, finding a rundown office building where this I.M.P. supposedly ran their business. and on the 7th floor (according to the sign in the elevator), he, indeed, found their headquarters.
“oh fucking finally, someone’s using the door for once!” the tall imp cursed out. “nice to meet ‘ya. i’m blitzø, the ‘o’ is silent.” he said, shaking alastor’s hand. “right, my name is alastor. pleasure to be meeting you, my good man, quite the pleasure!” he nodded assuredly as he wiped his hand on the coat. “sooo… if you’re here, you must want someone gone, hm? who is it? ex-wife? did she fuck the next door neighbor or something? c’mon, give me the all the dirty details!” blitzø asked, overwhelming him with questions.
“ah, not quite. you have a portal to the human realm, correct?” alastor asked, confirming the rumors. “yeah, if you’re thinking about going in with us, no can do.” blitzø shrugged defeatedly. “ah, no, no. just confirming the rumors.” he said. “i want you to go into the human realm, yes. and, i need you to kill my wife. i miss her dearly.” he sighed sorrowfully, despite his smile.
“yeah— see, i can’t guarantee your wife’s gonna go down here if she was some sorta saint or whatever.” blitzø said. “oh, she will most definitely go to hell, i can assure you that.” alastor grinned. despite alastor’s assurance, blitzø seemed unconvinced… “i’ll pay you handsomely.” alastor said, summoning a sum of money with a flick of his wrist. “it’s a deal! MILLIE, MOXXIE, GET YOUR ASSES HERE!” blitzø shouted out to what seemed to be a conference room. “don’t you worry, sir! we’ll make sure your wife’s down here by the end of the week!” he assured alastor cheerfully, his demeanor seemingly changing after the topic of money was brought into the conversation. “ah, very well then!” alastor grinned as he shrugged off, dropping the sum of cash by the doorstep as he left.
by the end of the week? he could wait that long.
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1939, the great depression had finally passed. without alastor to provide for the family, it had been hard. but, the three of you had been able to manage. your children had grown into wonderful adults, noah taking in his widowed mother and unmarried sister along with his own family.
your daughter-in-law was simply the sweetest thing. she reminded you of your innocent self all those years ago. but, your son is better than his father. there’s no reason to worry at all.
everything was good now. everything is fine.
“ma, you okay? you hardly touched your food.” noah asked. “hm? it’s alright, dear. i’m not so hungry anyway. francesca, eat up, will you? you must nourish yourself after all.” you pushed your plate towards your daughter-in-law, pregnant with her second child. “ah, really? alright then, thank you…” she bashfully grinned, accepting your plate.
“here, darling. let me take claire to bed.” you smiled, taking your granddaughter into your arms from her high chair. “eh? you sure, momma?” noah asks. “of course i am! just eat, dear. i’ll be fine if i skip a meal or two.” you assured your son as you headed up, taking claire to her cradle upstairs.
the small thing was already drooling and passing out in her chair. she had to rest in her crib, lest she get terrible posture. you burped the tiny baby over your shoulder before lowering her down as she clings to her binky, a plush of a bunny in a pink dress.
you admired the adorable baby for a few more moments before deciding to return to your room. but, as you were doing so, a bullet pierced the window, glass shards getting all over claire. “wh…what in the world..?!” you panicked as you ran back to your granddaughter, removing the sharp shards from her soft skin.
“satan almighty, what the fuck was that moxxie?!” a voice roared from outside, in the trees..? “i’m sorry, sir— there was a child! i couldn’t hurt it just because the target was there.” the so-called moxxie reasoned. “well, good job, cause you got glass on the little shit and woke it up!” the voice huffed out.
you cooed to your granddaughter, hushing her cries and gently rubbing her wounds. and just then, these mysterious creatures hopped in from the window. “ow— fuck, thanks a lot, moxxie, you fucking cuck!” the tallest creature groaned, painfully picking out the shards of glass on his feet. the moxxie creature looked rightfully offended as he held his gun towards you.
“who are you? are you here to kill me..?” you asked, frightful for your life. “who sent you?!” you started to grow defensive. “yeah, that doesn’t matter. all that does is that someone wants you dead. so, can we skip the whole ‘begging for your life’ thing?cause that’s not working on us.” the creature shrugged.
you looked everywhere for some sort of escape route. your eyes darted everywhere, trying so desperately to find a way out of this odd situation. but, there was nothing. there was no way to win this, the only thing you could do was accept your fate.
you kissed claire one last time, laying her in her cradle with her binky once more. because— well, that was all that you could do. you went in front of the gun, and lowered yourself to your knees. and with the muzzle in physical contact with your forehead…
BAM!
you bled out on the floor.
and, when you awoke, you were in an alleyway. the sky was red, and it smelt awful. your body felt weak. you stood up, looking for any reflective surface. you didn’t know what it was, but something was off.
you searched, coming upon a window from a store. and, there it was. your new appearance. your skin shined, reflecting in the red sky. and, clinked with each step you took; porcelain. your lips were as red as blood, and you were dressed in a simple dress, befitting a woman of your time.
the bell of the store rang, a red-deer man had been exiting. he glanced at you, curious. “ehh… pardon me, sir. do i know you? your staring is making me awfully uncomfortable…” you told the man. “ah! just as i thought.” he said through a radio filter. “just as you thought..?” you raised an eyebrow at him.
“oh, darling, don’t you remember me? it’s me, your husband!” he grinned widely, taking you into his arms.
it all made sense now. he had paid those creatures to kill you… for his own selfish desires. from a demon such as alastor, you should have probably seen it coming.
“come along now, my love. 6 years is an awfully long time. we have a lot of catching up to do!” he pulled you along by your elbow. “and, smile, darling. you’re never fully dressed without one!” he sang out. “of course, darling…” you said as grit your teeth. the vomit you had to hold back was almost irrepressible.
and, as he dragged you along, it made you think.
was there truly a god?
a god who was merciful?
because, no merciful god would bind you with this demon in life and death.
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EKKK HI!!! i acc have my own lore for wjen the children die 😋💞
— noah; age 56 (he goes to hell for his cover-up last chapter and animal cruelty) he married and had 3 kids 😋
— emilia; age 62 (she goes to hell for manipulating sm people into doing dirty work for her) she died unmarried, lowk thinking that she’d move in with her best friend despite it being controversial at the time
74 notes · View notes
moviecritc · 11 hours
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hii ! i was wondering if i could request a fanfic about Max verstappen and y/n —or you can give her a name UR CHOICE :) — anyways could you possibly follow the lines of them being complete strangers meeting in the Mexico GP, to becoming friends, then later on being lovers.
I’m not sure if you like to write sad stories but could you also possibly make a sad ending where towards the end they break up and whenever they are around eachother they act like complete strangers
Hopefully you take my request :) it was mainly inspired by a song called “strange” by Celeste !
Thank youuu !!
fortnight ⋆ max verstappen
pairing: max verstappen x reporter!reader
word count: 2.7K
warnings: bad boyfriend behaviour, angst (sort of)
a/n: it took me so long finishing this, and im not fully convinced with the result :( i also changed things a bit. anyways i loved the whole vibe, so maybe i write something similar soon
also this ended up giving massive fortnight by t swift vibes so i named it bc of that
masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd
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They were made for each other, or at least that's what everyone said. They had their first encounter at the Mexican Grand Prix. Y/N had been working as a reporter and interviewer for the races all season, but she had never had the chance to interview Max.
Mexico must have been one of Y/N's favorite places, all the culture, food, and people made her feel very welcomed. The race week in Mexico was the one she felt most nostalgic about once the season was over.
She arrived at the airport on Tuesday or Wednesday, she didn't quite remember, the only thing she remembered about her arrival in Mexico was the jet lag and that instead of grabbing her suitcase, she took Max Verstappen's.
She had always felt a certain intimidation towards him, by his way of driving and treating his teammates on the track. So, she was terrified to have to contact him. Surprisingly, it was Max who contacted her.
He called a few hours after she arrived at the hotel, she still wondered how he got her phone number and her name.
"Y/N L/N?" he asked. She recognized the voice and took a few seconds to process it. "I'm Max. I think I have your suitcase."
"Hello, yes. Uh, I think I have your suitcase too," She scratched her neck a bit.
"Ah, fantastic. Are you free now to exchange them?"
"Sure, yeah. Where?"
"I can come to your hotel, I don't want to cause you too much trouble," Max commented in a calm tone. That seemed like a super sweet gesture coming from him.
"Alright, I'll send you the location, come whenever you can," And they hung up.
Y/N was quite impressed by how nice Max had been, and that it was him who contacted her and offered to go to the hotel, even though she was the one who took the wrong suitcase.
Literally five minutes later they called her room phone, telling her that someone was asking for her. She went down with the suitcase immediately, meeting the pilot and his suitcase.
Max waved his hand a bit so she would know it was him, although Y/N knew perfectly well who he was. Max observed her, she had brown hair with lighter tips than the rest of her hair, probably from dyeing it in the past, and quite long curtain bangs. Somehow her face looked familiar to him, as if he had seen her before, but at the same time not.
"Hey, here you go," Y/N handed him the suitcase and they made the exchange. "I'm really sorry for the trouble, really, I didn't even realize it wasn't my suitcase,"
"It's okay, don't worry. Did you open the suitcase?" He slightly bit his lip.
"Well, yes. But I only saw the eight or nine Red Bull shirts, I realized it wasn't my suitcase," she said, smiling.
That made Max laugh. "Are you here for the race?"
"Well, yes, I'm a reporter for DAZN," Y/N nodded.
Max raised his chin a bit, understanding why the brunette looked so familiar. He looked around and then at his watch. "Are you busy now?"
Y/N blinked, was he…?
"No, not now," she pressed her lips, trying to hide a smile.
"Can I invite you for a coffee?" he smiled shyly.
"Oh," Y/N pondered for a few seconds what to tell him.
"If not, don't worry," Max spoke. Maybe she had been thinking about the answer for too long.
"No, of course. I'd love to,"
Was it a strange start? Yes. But only that afternoon they connected in such a strange way that it scared them. Y/N had two Siamese cats, Max had two Bengal cats. He spent hours on the sim, she could spend hours watching the same series, which wasn’t exactly the same, but close. They both supported FC Barcelona and the most surprising thing was that she had been on exchange in the Netherlands, at the same school Max was attending. The only thing was that he barely went to classes because he was going from championship to championship.
That afternoon it felt as if someone had made them meet, because it was too much of a coincidence to find someone so similar to you because of one suitcase.
"Will I see you in the paddock tomorrow?" Max asked, as they were saying goodbye.
"I hope so,"
"Stop by the Red Bull garage if you have time,"
Y/N nodded and bit her lip, still unable to believe the instant connection she had with Max. She even forgot she had terrible jet lag. At no point did she consider that this could end badly.
At the Brazil Grand Prix, they were already sharing a hotel room. Nobody knew yet that they were together so they could come and go as they pleased. Y/N was still a reporter for DAZN, although now that she spent so much time with Max her reports started to be shorter and with fewer details. She barely paid attention to the races, she stayed near the Red Bull garage, trying to see him when he entered the pits.
By that time, Y/N realized that maybe she was spending too much time with Max. In just those two weeks, Max had been pivoting between the sim and the hotel bed. At first, he said nice things to her and stayed with her for a while, asking her what she had been doing or what movie she was going to watch now. But the last time, he dressed immediately and went back to the sim.
Y/N even remembered how well they had connected and how comfortable she had felt, although it had only been fourteen days ago. She didn't even think about confronting him, after all, they were nothing, they never were.
Why? A serious relationship would only take up time that he could use for much more productive things for his career. That was better, even if it made the brunette feel as if he only wanted to satisfy himself with her.
"Max, it's late and I'm hungry, what if we go out for dinner?" Y/N entered her room where he had all the set up, it was the first time she saw it and she thought it was crazy that Max had all those screens, all those gadgets just to pretend to drive.
"I can't now, schat," he said, moving his hand a bit to try to make physical contact with her, but he didn't manage to because he didn't take his eyes off the screen.
"Well, remember we have the flight to Las Vegas tomorrow at noon. Come to bed soon," Y/N commented, looking at his crown.
She fell asleep before feeling Max's weight on the bed.
She didn't know why, but she really thought that in Vegas something would change, maybe because of the atmosphere or because it was the last races, maybe he would be slightly more relaxed now that he had practically won the championship. She even thought they would enter the paddock together, that she would have a fixed spot in the Red Bull garage or something, but a minimum of recognition from him towards her.
But it was quite the opposite. Max didn't show up in the paddock until Thursday afternoon while she had to be there since Tuesday. He made her take the plane alone and he didn't even text her when he landed. She had to find out he was already in Las Vegas when she saw him passing by her in the paddock and Y/N made a gesture to greet him, smile at him or make a simple gesture, but Max passed by without even looking at her.
That's when she realized she would have to confront him. He was behaving like a complete jerk, and Y/N was sure she wasn't the first woman who got fed up with him for that.
With a couple of calls and several messages, she managed to find out the hotel and the room where Max was staying. After a day full of interviews, Y/N went straight to the hotel address, knocking on his door.
"Hey, hello," he said, already in his pajamas and with a tired look. "I was thinking about you."
"Oh, me too," Seeing Max's hand on her waist, Y/N pulled away from him immediately.
Max raised his eyebrows at once, surprised by the abruptness of the brunette. "Are you alright?"
Y/N lowered her gaze slightly, choosing her words. Suddenly she was more than nervous to say something. "What… what are we?"
"In what sense?" he asked cautiously. He thought it was too soon for that conversation.
"What sense is it going to be?" she approached, realizing that Max probably was just a man like the rest, who had an unjustified fear of naming relationships.
"Uh," he said. Y/N blinked, waiting for a more complete sentence. "Do you want to make it public or something?"
Y/N ignored the 'or something', sticking only to the first words. She smiled a little, getting closer to Max.
"Is that what you want?" He asked again, putting his hands on her waist now that she let him.
"I would like that, yes," she nodded, before Max gave her a quick kiss. "You've been leaving me hanging for a few days."
"Schat, you know I have to train and prepare for the races," Max insisted, sliding his hands much lower than her waist.
Y/N was going to say something, but Max caught her lips and didn't let go until he felt satisfied.
On Friday they arrived together at the paddock, attracting attention from the media. They didn't talk much, she was afraid they would read her lips.
Y/N had to go with her team to interview the Ferrari team and they kissed in front of a couple of cameras as a goodbye. The image went viral in minutes. After finishing the interviews, she received a couple of comments from people around the paddock about how lucky Max was to have found her.
Y/N couldn't understand how he was the lucky one. After all, she was the one with the Formula 1 star pilot. She got on Twitter, seeing how several users commented on how amazing she was, how she had managed to make a name for herself in motorsport, how sweet and funny people found her, Y/N would never in her life use "funny" as an adjective to describe herself. And the best part, that Max should feel more than lucky to have her. That they made a practically perfect couple, that they coordinated super well. Just a few steps in the paddock had made them the couple of the moment. The example to follow.
Max won that race and jumped into her arms when he got out of the car, giving her a strong wet kiss in a very unsexy way. That totally took Y/N by surprise, she couldn't believe his first thought after winning was her. Who knows which of his PR team told him to do that.
"I'll see you in a few hours, wait for me in the hotel room," Max told her, kissing her cheek.
"Max, I also work here. I have to do interviews," she reminded him, with a somewhat serious look.
"Ah, alright,"
"Let me know when you're done," Y/N turned without saying or doing anything else.
She worked until late at night without being able to get out of her head that she and Max had progressed so much in the relationship that they had skipped all the really good parts, the honeymoon phase. And this time it had been her fault, it had been her idea to make it public maybe too soon.
She arrived at Max's room, which was dimly lit and cold. She took a long shower, still wondering what she should do now that their relationship wasn't working out at all.
When she came out of the shower, with wet hair and pajamas on, she found Max lying on the bed, sliding his finger over the screen of his cell phone.
"The shower is free now, were you waiting for long?" Y/N spoke, tilting her head slightly.
"I'm already showered, I was waiting for you," Max admitted with a sweet look.
"Oh," she said. "You didn't have to, I'm sure you're tired,"
Y/N walked cautiously to the free side of the bed, because they hadn't even talked about their sides of the bed. Max got up and changed his clothes, Y/N remembered how good shape Max was in and how good he was in bed as he was with the car. She discreetly bit her lip.
"I wanted to talk to you, actually," Max mentioned as he sat down next to her, giving Y/N goosebumps. "Did you see that people adore us?" Max hugged her by the shoulders, pulling her closer to him.
Y/N let out a sustained thread of air in her lungs and smiled. "Yes," It seemed strange to Max that that was the only thing that came out of Y/N's mouth. "Is that a good thing, isn't it?" he asked, now somewhat confused. "Of course, someone should."
Max blinked, now separating from her body so he could see her well. "What do you mean by that?"
"Since we don't adore each other," she mentioned, as if by chance.
"What do you mean by that?" Max asked, having no idea what Y/N was saying.
She sighed, shaking her head slightly. She wondered how someone couldn't realize something so simple.
"Forget it, Max," she fixed, getting comfortable in bed. "I'm tired."
"Wait, let's talk," he insisted, getting closer to her, with a worried look.
Y/N clicked her tongue, sitting up on the pillow. "Do you like me?"
"Of course, you're beautiful and attentive and intelligent. Why wouldn't I like you?"
That made her heart shrink a bit. "But do you see me as something lasting?"
Max thought about his answer. No. "I don't know,"
That was enough for Y/N to know the real answer, she clicked her tongue and moved slightly away from him.
"Y/N, you have to understand that I have a complicated job and…"
"For God's sake, Max, we both work in the same field. If you want to blame the distance or something like that, it won't work," Y/N denied, biting her cheek with anger.
Max pressed his lips, trying to hide that that was exactly what he was going to do.
"I think I better leave," Y/N commented, pulling the sheets.
Max saw all her movements, from when she got up until she picked up her things and left through the door. Y/N still somehow hoped he would say something, but Max didn't even move. He simply waited for her to leave so he could lie down and go to sleep.
Y/N didn't cry, she didn't even consider it. It had been a short time and there was no need to waste time thinking about what could have happened. For God's sake, she didn't even know if it had been a real relationship.
It had started perfectly but had been declining just a few days after they met.
In the last Grand Prix, Y/N was with her team most of the time, writing columns for DAZN's website report and preparing questions for her colleagues' interviews.
"Y/N, here are the questions for Max's interviews," her colleague said.
"Huh?"
"Everyone wants you to interview Max, for obvious reasons," he nodded, as if it were totally normal.
"I don't think it's a good idea," Y/N mentioned, making a face.
"Y/N, he and everyone else are waiting for the interview," he insisted, nodding his head behind his back. Y/N turned discreetly, observing Max leaning against a wall, trying so hard not to look at her.
"Fuck," she muttered with a soft frown. "Ok, let's do this quick,"
She standed up with a bored and sick stare, there was Red Bull's engineers everywhere and even people taking pictures of her.
"Hey," he greeted her as she approached.
"Let's get this over with quickly, okay?" she nodded.
"Try not to be too harsh, people still think we're together," Max commented.
Y/N's gaze hardened. "I'll do whatever I want, Max," she clenched her jaw and gave the cameraman a nod to start broadcasting the interview.
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ecliphttlunar · 6 hours
Text
More Than Friends - Chris Sturniolo
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Summary: One night at a restaurant, you finally realize your best friend's feelings for you. During the exchanged looks and affectionate gestures, they reveal the mutual desire that had existed for a long time. Revealing your feelings creates a climate of tension and passion between the two of you. But you had known you were more than friends for a while now.
Warnings: jealousy, friends who are not just friends, cute, declarations of love, kisses, hugs, tickling
Author's notes: This is my work, I do not authorize any plagiarism, copying or “inspiration”. English is not my first language, so I'm sorry if there are any grammatical errors.
。☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆。
You looked in the mirror for what seemed like the tenth time, every hour checking something about your appearance.
If your hair was perfect.
If your left eyeliner was the same as your right one.
If your lipstick wasn't smudged.
If your clothes were good.
You had to look pretty tonight. Because of two things.
First, you wanted to feel beautiful, you wanted to look in the mirror and think, "shit, I look hot." You wanted to feel good.
And second, you wanted him to think you were beautiful. You wanted him to look at you all night.
In fact, you needed it. Because she would be there.
Your "friend" would be in this restaurant together with you and Chris, of course, her presence in itself wasn't what bothered you, she was fun and a good person, what really made you want to rip out her hair strand by strand, is that she wanted him.
You knew that the only reason she approached you was because she wanted to get closer to him.
You knew from the beginning what her intentions were.
But you never cared. Because she never did anything about her relationship with Chris.
Until a week ago, where you, Chris, Matt, Nick, Nate, Madi, Tara and her were gathered in the living room to watch a movie.
You noticed her getting closer and closer to him, trying to touch her skin with his.
You noticed the flirting, the prying eyes, you noticed everything.
So you started to worry.
You started to care.
Making sure you were better than her.
Looking at the mirror again, you analyzed your outfit, you liked it, the outfit was appropriate for the restaurant you were going to.
And the pants were making her ass look incredible.
You smiled.
You were beautiful.
You even wanted to look at yourself more, check some things you hadn't checked yet, but your whole plan went out the window when Tara sent you a message, letting you know she was in front of your house.
So, you grabbed your bag, and went downstairs, heading towards the door.
You made sure the door was locked and went to Tara's car, getting into the passenger seat.
"Okay, you look hot." She said as soon as she saw you.
And you felt a little proud of yourself.
"It's not so extreme." You defended yourself.
"Have you ever looked in the mirror?"
Yes, so many times that I lost count.
You laughed, a little embarrassed.
"Por que estamos falando de mim? Você já se olhou no espelho?" Você muda de assunto para ela.
She laughs, starting the car and heading to the restaurant.
You hadn't even been in the car for 10 minutes, and you already regretted your choice of shoes.
As much as they matched the outfit, they were killing your toes.
And Tara seemed to notice her discomfort because soon she was asking if something was wrong.
"Nothing to worry about, just my feet are hurting, these shoes hurt." You told the truth. There was no reason to lie.
"Take them off for now, we still have about 30 minutes to travel until we get to the restaurant."
And now you remembered, the restaurant was 40 minutes from your house.
So, to avoid suffering you followed her advice, and took off your shoes.
The journey to the restaurant was fun, you talked, laughed, sang songs...
And maybe, you thought about him, his eyes, his hair, what clothes he would be wearing...
And in it, would she be more beautiful than you?
Mary was not an ugly girl, on the contrary, she was drop dead gorgeous.
She had a wonderful body, hydrated hair, smooth and soft skin, and her lips seemed so soft.
To say you were getting anxious was an understatement.
You were going crazy.
Until you finally arrived at the restaurant, and entering the parking lot, you could see some of your friends about to enter the restaurant. Including him. But they all stop moving as soon as they see Tara's car.
Probably to enter together with you.
While Tara parked the car, you started to put on your shoes, taking a while because of how little space you had.
As soon as Tara parked the car, she already got out of it, and now, she was waiting for you outside with her friends, talking about something you don't know what it is.
And you felt a bit of shame pass through your body, as all you had to do was get out of the car.
But it wasn't your fault, it was the shoe's fault and the discomfort it brought to your feet.
But you were quick, as soon as you put on your shoes, you got out of the car, not wanting to delay your friends any further.
And you felt everything in slow motion. As if you were in a movie scene.
As soon as you got out of the car, he looked at you and froze, the conversation he was having with Nate immediately forgotten, his lips parted as he winked at you.
He looked you up and down, seeing every detail of you.
From the first strand of hair, to the sole of the shoe.
And God, he felt like he might die at that moment.
He could die, and he would die happy.
As you greeted your friends, he continued looking at you, never looking away.
He was mesmerized by your beauty, you couldn't be real, no, you were some masterpiece made by the gods, or a rare jewel.
But you couldn't be a normal human being.
Now, you were greeting Nate, and Chris seemed to snap out of the world he entered when he realized he was the next one you were going to hug.
He couldn't wait to be able to put his fingers in you, hug your waist, smell your perfume.
“Hi” He whispered as soon as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
“Hi” You said back, your voice as low as his.
"You look beautiful" He said as soon as you separated.
“You’re not as ugly as I thought you would be either” You smiled at him.
"So, you were thinking about me? I'm flattered" He smiled back at you, and you almost forgot to respond to him as soon as you saw his smile.
He was so beautiful.
You looked so divine.
The two of you just stared at each other, praising each other in your thoughts, and smiling at each other, and your friends just stared at you.
Some smiling, and others disgusted, noticing the atmosphere between the two of you.
You were slowly drowning in the blue ocean of his eyes, until someone saved you.
You turned in the direction you heard the coughing, and you were a little embarrassed for having this moment in front of your friends.
But that always happened when you were with him. It was inevitable.
Chris also looked a little embarrassed as he placed his hand on the small of your back, guiding you towards the entrance of the restaurant.
You sighed at his touch on your back, your heart racing.
Could he hear your heartbeat?
You entered the restaurant and started looking for your other friends, finally finding them at a table.
You sat down, Tara on your right side, Nick on your left side, and Chris in front of you.
And for a moment you began to wonder if Mary wasn't coming.
You didn't see her outside in the parking lot, and she wasn't sitting at the table either.
But your question was soon answered when you saw her come out of the bathroom.
And Gods, she looked so, so, so wonderfully beautiful.
You felt like crap as soon as you saw her.
And everything got worse when she sat next to Chris.
You knew, your night was going to be shit.
You felt a hand on your thigh, and you looked to your right side, Tara.
She smiled slightly at you, trying to reassure you.
You knew she knew about your feelings about Chris.
She was one of your friends who supported you both.
And she knew you were disappointed to see Mary next to Chris.
Seeing how beautiful she looked.
And that's why she made it her mission tonight to make you forget about him and have fun.
And until the middle of the night it was working.
You talked to all your friends, you laughed, you really had fun.
Until you looked ahead and saw her.
She was practically on top of him, talking about something you couldn't hear.
And your smile fell, and a feeling of jealousy filled you.
Until you heard a voice whispering in your ear.
"He's not paying attention to her, he's literally been watching you all night."
You looked at Tara, and then at him.
His blue eyes meet yours.
Did he really not pay attention to Mary?
He was staring at you, looking at your eyes, and your lips.
And you did the same as him, you looked at his blue eyes, and then at his soft lips.
Nate was talking to him, and Chris was simply nodding, never looking away from you.
It felt like the world around you had disappeared and everything was completely silent, and it was just the two of you.
Two people staring at each other, saying they're just friends, when deep down they know, they're more than just friends.
The touches, the looks, the flirting, the time they spend together.
You weren't just friends. Never went.
You sigh and blink.
You stand still, staring at him like an idiot, you realized, now you realized what everyone was telling you.
It was like something clicked, a puzzle, the final missing piece.
All your friends always told you that Chris loved you, it was like a movie, everyone noticed the love between the protagonists, except for themselves.
But now you've seen it.
You always caught him looking at you, always, but one specific day crossed your mind.
When you were recording a video for his channel with his brothers.
Nick had already started the video, you were behind the counter, while Nick was talking about what you were going to do, you were in the middle, between Matt and Chris.
And as always, the urge to look at Chris was stronger, so as Nick spoke, you turned your head to the side to look at him, only to find that he was already looking at you.
Instinctively, you looked away, embarrassed for being caught, and Chris, like you, also turned his head, looking at the camera.
Ashamed as a child who was caught doing something wrong, but of course, a child who never learns his lesson.
You were already looking at him again, when now he turned his head to look at you.
Your eyes met, and as Chris swallowed hard, you smiled awkwardly, turning your head to look straight ahead.
And Chris followed suit, turning his head so fast he felt dizzy.
Until you turned your heads towards each other again, and now, you found the situation funny.
You turned your head forward, trying to hold back your laughter, but Chris kept his eyes on you.
You quickly glanced at him, chuckling softly when you saw he was still looking at you.
You continued exchanging glances until Nick called you, asking you to get a spoon so they could start cooking.
Of course, these exchanges of glances between you weren't just friendship, there was something more.
Friends don't look for each other's eyes when they're in the same room.
And you couldn't forget his attempts to always touch you, even if it was arms touching, he had to touch you in some way.
After exchanging looks, and an angry Nick, for asking for the spoon for the thousandth time, you finally went to do what was asked.
You had your back to the camera, and the disaster behind you, looking for the spoon Nick wanted, but for some reason, you weren't finding it.
Until you felt a somewhat familiar presence behind you, and gentle hands on your arms.
He lets go of your right arm, but keeping his hand on your left arm, as he takes the spoon you were looking for.
He places the spoon in front of you, and soon you take it, your fingers touching his in the process.
You turn to look at him, smiling in thanks.
Your back pressed against his chest.
His hands move up to your shoulders, turning you around, and pushing you lightly towards the counter, where Nick and Matt were waiting for the spoon.
You hand it to Nick.
Now, you were all at the counter watching Nick stir the ingredients, Chris by his side, his hand on the small of your back.
You swallow hard when you remember that moment, how did you not notice?
It was so obvious.
It was always in front of you, these and other signs, but it's as if you had a blindfold over your eyes.
Never seeing the signs.
No matter how obvious they were.
And now, for some reason, it's as if someone has taken off the blindfold, and you're seeing something you've never seen before.
You didn't even notice that you were no longer facing each other, that in fact everyone was getting up from their seats, ready to leave, until someone tapped your shoulder.
"Let's go?" Of course it was him.
"Yes, yes, of course, let's go" You said, getting lost in words, and getting up from your place too quickly, turning around too quickly, trying to take more steps than your feet can.
You just felt your knees giving out, your feet tripping over each other, and you falling.
But you never felt the pain of the fall, you just felt firm arms around your waist, your hands touching a chest that was a little familiar to the touch, and his worried eyes on you.
"Hey, it's okay, slow down, we're not leaving without you." He says laughing a little.
"Yes, I know, of course, I'm fine, thank you." You were already regaining your balance, and leaving his protective arms.
He was confused, not understanding what was happening to you.
To tell the truth, you didn't even know what was happening to you at that moment.
Maybe it was the discovery that there was a chance his feelings could be reciprocated.
Yes, that was definitely it.
Because until just a few minutes ago, there wasn't even 1% of you believing that there was a chance that he saw you the same way you saw him.
But now? All that was missing was his words to confirm that he liked you the same way you liked him.
He was behind you, his hands on your waist guiding you to the register, and you felt like you couldn't breathe.
You were next to pay, and when it was your turn, you just confirmed what you had eaten, taking your card, the price already written on the machine.
As soon as you took your card out of your wallet, about to bring it closer to the machine, another card passed over yours, paying your bill.
You look back, seeing him shake his head and smile at you.
"Could you excuse me, love? I need to pay my bill now." Love? Why did he call you love?
Your mouth was still open as you walked to the side, giving him the space he asked for.
You had your mouth open and your eyes blinking.
"Why did you pay my bill?" You asked bluntly when he turned to look at you.
He just shrugs, placing his hands on your back.
He tried to walk towards the exit, but you remained standing still.
He looks at you, confused.
"Why did you pay my bill?" You ask again.
He just shakes his head. "I was doing you a favor." That's what he says.
"But I didn't ask for it." You counter.
He sighs. "I like doing favors for you, even if you don't ask for them." He shrugs, trying to walk to the exit again.
This time, you let him guide you.
When you were arriving at the exit, Mary appears, talking directly to Chris.
"So, what did you think of the food? Did you like it?" She seemed excited, wanting to talk to Chris, but he didn't seem to care.
The scene, in fact, to anyone, seemed funny to see.
Mary was on the exit side, with her hands clasped in front of her, shyly wanting to talk to Chris, with a friendly smile on her face.
But unlike Mary, you and Chris were uninterested in what she wanted to say, you were facing her, your face serious, one hand holding your bag. And Chris was at your side, a little behind, with his hand on your back, his face also serious, with no sign of interest in what Mary wanted to say.
Mary continued babbling, but soon Chris cut the conversation short.
"Sorry, but Nate is calling us outside, we'll talk later, okay?" He says, already leaving the restaurant, leaving Mary behind.
"Okay, who's leaving with who?" Nick asked.
"I'll take Mary, since we live nearby, you and your brothers can take Y/N, okay?" She says, looking between you and Nick.
Before you could respond, Chris was already speaking for you.
"Sure, fine." He says, smiling at you.
You just shrug your shoulders, letting them decide who goes with who.
And from what you could tell, people would return with the same people they came with, except for you and Mary, who swapped the ride.
And at that moment, you just wanted to kiss Tara's lips for the idea she gave.
God bless her.
You climbed into the Van with Nate, expecting to have Nick by your side, what you didn't expect was to have Chris by your side.
You smile at him confused.
"Why don't you get in the passenger seat?" You ask.
“Nick wanted to go ahead” You nod, still a little suspicious.
"OK." You whisper slowly, brow furrowed.
He just smiles in response.
Maybe you were crazy, maybe it was all in your head, maybe you were seeing things that weren't there, and he just looked at you as a friend.
But that didn't make sense, no.
That's why you were determined to talk to him.
Since you and the boys talked and decided that you would stay at their house tonight, it would be easier to talk to him, when you were alone with Chris, you would talk to him.
And you would see if it was all in your head or not.
If it was... well, you'd cry in your room later.
The journey to the boys' house was incredible, really fun, and you think you laughed more in the 30 minutes you were with them than in the 3 hours you spent in the restaurant.
But when you finally got home, harsh reality slapped you in the face, reminding you of what was to come.
And at that moment, you thought it would be better, to become completely crazy and stay with your best friend.
Than take a chance, and run the risk of losing not just one, but 3 best friends.
But you had already made up your mind, so whether you wanted to or not, you were going to have that conversation with him.
Regardless of the consequence.
As soon as you entered the house and went up the stairs, you started discussing which room you were going to sleep in.
And of course, as luck, or bad luck, was on your side, you stayed in Chris's room.
Especially because all of their things that are in the triplets' house are in Chris's bedroom and bathroom.
You walked down the stairs towards his room, going straight into the bathroom to do your nightly routine.
You took off your makeup, washed your face, brushed your teeth, and changed into your pajamas, which consisted of shorts and a long-sleeved shirt.
When you came out of the bathroom, you saw Chris lying on the bed, just wearing sweatpants, playing on his cell phone.
But as soon as he heard the door open, he looked in your direction, his eyes running down your body, stopping at your thighs, and then moving up to your eyes again.
You threw yourself onto the bed, next to Chris, burying your face in the pillow and letting out a loud sigh.
"Everything is fine?" You heard him ask.
You nod as much as you can, since at the moment your head was buried in the pillow.
You just hear a sigh, and imagine that he was nodding his head, just like you.
You were silent for a few seconds, until it started to become difficult to breathe.
You were already changing position, about to talk to him, when you felt a pair of hands on you.
Exactly where you feel ticklish.
"You know, I wonder how long you can go without laughing." He says, a damn smile on his face.
You try to stay serious, hold in your laughter as long as you can, until a small sound comes out of your mouth.
And soon, you're waking up the entire neighborhood.
"Your laugh is so cute! I love seeing you laugh." He says through his laughter.
"What will happen if I tickle you... here!" He says, moving his hands up, which were previously on your waist, placing them on your neck.
You were a funny mess, laughing loudly, crying with laughter, and screaming for him to stop.
"Say please." He says, prolonging the please, as if he were singing.
And you, wanting it all to end, beg several times, all of them saying "please"
He continues tickling you a little, until you feel his hands leaving your body, and your laughter getting quieter.
"That was quite a reaction!" He says laughing, and you follow his laugh.
You take a deep breath, already feeling the air returning to your lungs.
You look at him, your smile mischievous, you stand up slightly, getting on your knees, approaching him, and soon your hands are in the air, going towards his neck.
But he catches your wrists, and you end up losing your balance, you can't understand what happened next, only that you're in his lap, your faces inches apart, his hands still holding your wrists.
Your eyes go from his blue eyes to his mouth, his eyes, however, had been on your lips for a long time.
You take a deep breath, swallowing hard.
"I need to ask you a question." You whisper, cutting into the silence.
He stays quiet, but you know he's given you permission to continue.
You were afraid to say the next words.
"You love me?" His lips were parted, and he was winking at you.
"Because I love you, and not as a friend Chris, I love you romantically, but I never dared to dream that you felt the same until that night in the restaurant, it could be that I'm crazy, and seeing things where there aren't any, but, no Like what we have, it's just friendship."
He stayed quiet, just looking at you.
Quiet, just quiet.
"Chris?" I whisper his name. "You love me?"
Silence.
Silence.
And silence.
You were praying to whatever God would save you, so he wouldn't let you die waiting.
"Answer me, please!" You were almost crying, your eyes were watery, and your voice was shaking.
"Yes or no?" You try again.
His lips were opening and closing, his eyes looking straight into yours.
He was nervous, you knew he was, it was obvious, he couldn't hide it.
And you were so close, and with his silence, you knew you had to leave.
But you couldn't, and you never would.
"Chris..." His voice could barely be heard at that moment.
She was so low, so broken.
But his desperate voice cuts through the silence.
"I love you! Okay? I love you. I didn't want you to find out like this, but I also don't want to go back." He finally speaks.
And you feel a single tear run down your face.
Your heart was racing so much now, you couldn't breathe.
Your mouth was half open, you were trying to breathe, and trying to control the tears, prevent more of them from falling.
"I swore that shit wasn't in my head, I knew we were more than friends but… I was so scared of losing you." A few more tears fall, while you spoke.
His hands let go of your wrists and go to your face, wiping away your tears.
"You won't lose, you never will, even though I was scared to admit it, I knew I was yours, I knew I loved you." He places your hands on his chest, over his heart.
"Can you feel my heartbeat?" You nod. His heart was beating fast.
"It always speeds up when I think, or when I see you, you've always had that effect on me."
It was impossible to hold back the tears now.
"I really, really want to kiss you right now, but I must be a disgusting mess..." you say, laughing a little at the end.
He just smiles and starts kissing all over your face.
Your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, your chin, every corner of your face was being kissed by him.
And when he reaches his lips, he just brings his mouth closer to yours and whispers.
"Kiss Me." And you kiss.
The kiss was calm, almost lazy, you weren't in a rush.
His hands were on your neck, and your hands were on his shoulders, going down to his chest.
You slowly separated, Chris giving you a small kiss on the mouth, and you returning the kiss, placing a short kiss on his lips, you continued giving each other kisses on the lips, until you separated.
The smiles you were giving each other were soft, and you left a small kiss on his forehead.
And he was stroking her cheeks, tucking a strand of hair that had fallen into her face, behind her ear.
You were still smiling at him when you whispered. "I have one more question for you..."
His smile widens. "Yes?"
Your hands, which were previously on his chest, move up to his neck.
"Do you feel ticklish here?"
。☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆。
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ursuburbanmother · 2 days
Text
I’m On Fire, But I’m Trying Not to Show It || Chapter Four
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Pairings: Angus Tully x fem!reader
a/n: did you guys know fifty dollars back in ‘66 was like five hundred dollars??? I didn’t and now I wish I never did. Anyway I kinda just wanted to explore more of Angus and Y/n relationship before the event of the holdovers. So a little backstory on this one. I maybe got carried away. Also this is a long ish chapter cause I have MAJOR exams to take so yeah :0 it might be while till I update again.
Word Count: ~7.5k
Enjoy!
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Four Years Before - June 12th, 1966
Your parents had fled to Barbados for a destination wedding which they would follow with a cruise they claimed to deserve. Although it was one of those rare occasions where they had extended an invitation, you had declined. The prospect of being able to stretch your legs on the couch without worrying if you would be crushing some unknown guest, or to be able to walk into rooms without crashing into a waiter passing out shrimp puffs, was much more appealing. You had been left behind with fifty dollars for your fun fund, as your mother called it, and a kiss on the forehead. The nanny your parents kept on retainer would check up on you occasionally only to find you were much better at cleaning up after your messes and doing ordinary tasks than your parents. She’d leave after a few hours and then over the course of the first week she stopped coming.
You had prepared yourself for a month of solitude after Angus had announced he’d be spending his vacation at a tennis camp in Montauk. You must have been reorganizing your bookshelf for the third time that day (once by alphabet, then by color, and finally by size) when you heard a knock at the door. The sun had just begun to set, the sky colored a purple-blue, and you cautiously decided to take your fathers golf club. You dropped the club shortly after opening the front door to find not the face of Norman Bates but of your best friend. You scanned his tear-stained face. His eyes were glossy and his cheeks rosy, like when one stands in the snow and is attacked by the harsh winds that nip at your skin.
He collapsed into your arms, and you are quick to hold him steady. He was crouched over, having had a growth spurt a few months earlier, making it hard for you to look at him eye to eye.
“What’s wrong?” You asked.
It was the summer of ‘66, where paranoid parents were starting to believe rock music would possess you. Ironically, it was the year Pet Sounds came out and you couldn’t stop rewinding the songs on your turntable. And most significantly it was the summer you spent with Angus.
He broke the news through jumbled words and choked down tears. How his father had been placed in a Mental Health hospital and how taking him to camp was just an excuse to make sure he wouldn’t be there when the people from the hospital came to pick his father up. They had apparently come early, mixing the dates up.
“Does your mom know you’re here?” You asked, hugging his torso.
“No. I'm sure she’ll be coming to check soon though,” he sniffled, “She’ll probably try to drag me to Montauk anyway and say that ‘it’ll be good for me’.”
You kiss his curls, “What if you stay here?”
He lifts his head up, “I’m not sure she’ll let me.”
“I think she will,” you reassured, “I am a very good guilt-tripper.”
“You can try if you want. How much did your parent’s leave you anyway?”
“Enough for both of us, don't worry. Even if we run out, we could whip something up to eat.”
His eyes widened, “Let's stick to take-out.”
Your house was the first place Angus’s mother looked in, just like he had predicted. He hid at the top of the stairs, staying away from his mom's line of sight as she pressed you for his whereabouts. You had been truthful about how he wanted to spend the next few nights here.
“Are you serious? I’m not going to leave two fourteen-year-olds alone, unattended, unsupervised! God knows what you’ll get up to.”
“We’re not going to do anything!” you argued, “We’re smart enough to not light the house on fire and to dial 911, in case we happen to. Angus just wants to be away for a little while. You should understand why,” you glared.
She looked down, shuffling her heeled feet.
“Besides, you take him away now he’s just to keep coming back here,” you sighed, stating the obvious.
She cleared her throat, coughing as she nodded, “Fine. Alright. Uhm- just make sure he calls me. Okay?”
“Okay,” you do your best to stop yourself from slamming the door in her face. "Bye.”
“The coast is clear,” you shout to Angus who came barreling down the stairs, skipping the last few steps.
“Did she look mad?”
You shrug, “A little. But she'll move on.”
He hums, agreeing as his eyes flicker around the room. He’s looking at the house he must have been at least a thousand times, whether because you invited him or because your parents did. And for the first time in either of your lives… it was completely silent. …
That first night Angus slept on your bedroom floor on a mattress you had dragged from the guest room. You had only your lamp on, and your window was open just wide enough to bring in the refreshing summer air. You were reading a few pages of your book to Angus, and when you glanced down you saw his eyes beginning to close.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No. You have a nice voice is all.”
“Thank you. You do want to go to sleep though,” you observe.
“Should I turn off the lamp?” He says almost immediately. He lifts himself up slightly so he can reach your bedside table and waits for your permission to turn it off.
“Yes please.” You settle deep into your duvet. You turn to the side that faces Angus and wish him goodnight.
A few minutes later he speaks up again in a whisper. “Thank you again. For letting me stay here. I'll be out of here by next week, swear.”
“If you could, I would want you to stay here your whole life.” He scoffs at your words as you lean up with the support of your elbows to stare him down. “I’m serious. I only wish I could live in a house with you. Except somewhere far away from here.”
“By the beach,” he adds.
“Yeah. On a beach so obscure they can’t even send us mail because no one will know our address.”
“Oh no. How would your parents ever send you the invitation for your debutante ball?”
“I guess they’ll just have to throw it without me.”
“Shame,” Angus sighs. “I would love to see you in a white dress.”
You pause and then crash down back into your bed. You admire the garland that hangs above you. It’s made of postcards your parents sent you during their many endeavors. In that moment you're reminded of them and turn to Angus. “Oh. About that. My mom told me to tell you to prepare to be my escort in a few years.”
“Already?!” …
You and Angus had fallen into a routine. He’d sleep way later than you, sometimes until noon, and you’d wake him when you got too impatient and hungry for breakfast. He’d stir and groan to the point that it was obvious he was faking before finally getting up.
You would carry what you could from your kitchen pantry onto the backyard patio and eat under the summer sun. It was like an all-you-can-eat buffet of fig jam, English muffins and sometimes pears from the tree that stretched over your neighbor's fence. Afterward you and Angus continued your day in the green grass. He would sprawl himself out on a picnic blanket and read a comic book, wearing shades that were on the verge of tipping off his nose. Meanwhile you would tend to your mother's garden. You’d put on her straw hat too, just to make it feel like you were with her.
When you were little, you’d pull the weeds out of flower beds as your mom pruned her lavender. It was her dearest plant, and she treated them so, regularly nursing it to keep it alive. She’d motion for you to come with her and pick up the shears from the gardening shed. Eagerly obedient, you did as she said, and you would work together until called for lunch. Your mother was always a vivaciously elegant woman, always knowing the right things to say and charming anyone she met. You often wondered why you hadn’t inherited her brilliance, the one that made her seem as if she was glowing in any room she inhabited. It was odd that she’d often claim her ability to converse was her greatest ability when the two got along best when moving in silence.
You did your best to care for the plant too. Before you mom left, she asked to handle their upkeep. You took your duty seriously, checking in on them every day until you saw one sign of disarray.
That summer was like playing house. And although you never admit, for the fear that he’d read too much into and freak, it was exactly as you had often dreamed it to be. June and July passed quickly, and you hadn’t even noticed it. You imagined a life where it could just be you two forever, away from your parents and outside of stifling Massachusetts.
You imagined a life in an apartment described as ‘quaint,’ by the realtor to disguise the incredible small square footage. You wondered if he would like to be in a city like New York or Chicago. Somewhere that was always busy, and the chirping of morning birds was replaced by honking cars.
By the time August had rolled around, you could practically hear the unmistakable sound of the school bell ringing in your ear, warning you of its proximity. Thoughts about the future had you asking Angus one bleary Sunday afternoon, “Are you nervous about starting high school?”
Angus was pushing you on the tire swing, trying to give you motion sickness by twisting the ropes of the swing and letting them untangle a second later.
“Not really. It’ll be like eighth grade just with more tests.”
“I guess. But aren’t you nervous about making new friends and stuff? What if we tangled ourselves into a web so deep that we can’t talk to other people normally.”
“Then I have done my job of keeping you to myself.”
“Haha,” you deadpan, “Seriously though. Won’t you miss having me to talk to?”
“Of course I will. But you’ll write to me and crap… right?”
“Of course,” you echo his words back to him, “You’ll visit me when you get the chance too, correct?”
“Eh. If I’m not busy.”
“Angus!”
“Yes! Obviously, I will.” He pushes you a little harder.
“I do want you to be more out there though. Don’t go sulking in corners like you always do. People would really like you if you let them talk to you for more than one minute.”
“You’re starting to sound like my mother Y/n.”
“Seriously though. Did you notice we’re always addressed as ‘Y/n and Angus’ by teachers. Never just Y/n and never just Angus.”
“Yeah. But I like it. It’s like Bonnie and Clyde. You can’t separate them because then it sounds plain wrong.”
“Okay Clyde,” you roll your eyes. You stop swinging, scraping your shoes through the dirt until you are still.
“I’m giving us two weeks before we break down to each other over the phone.” You lose the hold you have on the tire swings and let them drop onto your lap. You simmer under the sun and enjoy the breeze that flows through your hair.
“Don’t go replacing me when you get to your school.”
“Don’t worry, you got a head start seven years ago. No one else will be able to catch up,” you smile teasingly. “Maybe I’ll find myself a boyfriend though. About time for the both of us, don’t you think?”
He frowns, “You don’t need a boyfriend.”
“Yes, I do. Everyone else does.”
“Since when do you do what other people do? I think you should stop talking to people who peer pressure you,” he flicks your forehead.
“Why?” You rub your forehead, “Do you want to be my boyfriend?” You smirk.
“Gross! No! I was just kidding. Get a boyfriend, I don’t care.”
“You wouldn’t care if I got a boyfriend?” You look at him skeptically.
“As long as he treats you nice and shit,” he rubs the back of his neck.
“It’s just that we do everything together Angus. There are some things I would like to get over with that I can’t do with you.”
“Like what?” Angus wrinkled his nose in confusion.
“Like hold hands and go to bowling alleys or whatever.”
“We’ve done that.”
“I like…kiss,” you whisper, fidgeting with your hands.
“Oh,” he chuckles awkwardly. “So would you want to do that … now?”
“What!” You shout, leaping off the swing and walking a few steps away from him. “I’m not asking you to,” you clarify, shaking your head.
“No, but I would like to be over and done with it too… so maybe we should just…” He motions his finger between you two.
“Uhm,” you laugh, tilting your head, “Wouldn’t that be weird?”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t mean anything. It’ll be just to check it off the list,” he shrugs nonchalantly.
“Um, yeah, okay,” you move closer to him in small timid strides. “You lean in though. I read that the guy is supposed to do that in my mother's Cosmopolitan.”
“Right, right,” he nods eagerly, interlocking your fingers together. With hesitancy he leans his head down and pulls you even closer to the point where you are bumping your noses. You close your eyes, and it's like your brain begins to spin like those show wheels with choices on them. Your brain tries to land on a feeling but loops on endlessly. His lips are softened by the humidity, and you don’t even notice it is over until a couple seconds after he pulls away.
When you think back on it, it really was the most 'first kiss moment’ to ever exist. It was more of a peck, both of you were bright red and shortly after you were as stiff as statues. Not knowing what else to do, Angus clears his throat and removes his hands from yours to wipe them on his shirt. “So, uh, what does your mothers Cosmo say to do afterward?”
You let out a breathy laugh, “I don’t know. I didn’t read that far.”
Christmas Eve - December 24th, 1970
After that summer, when you shared a weepy goodbye and headed off to your own high schools, it was undeniable that something had shifted between you both. Even if it often went unspoken. Neither you nor Angus had brought it up, but on occasion you would acknowledge it. Like last night after leaving the auditorium to return to the common room and pick up the dishes, your eyes drifted to the TV where a cheesy kiss scene was happening on screen. The two of you shared a knowing look that said, “That’s not how ours went down,” before shutting the television off and helping Mary into a more comfortable sleeping position.
You tried not to dwell on the past, but it was hard not to when the only thing in your childhood that had always been good, always been constant, was Angus. Every time you looked into his eyes it was like the decade you had spent together flashed by in a sequence of blurs. All he had to do was breathe a specific way in his sleep to remind you of some obscure memory that had died but he had brought back to life.
This morning you felt like you were ten again and Angus was trying to steal your bread rolls at Thanksgiving dinner. Except today he tried swiping your bacon as you shoved him off playfully.
“Get your own Angus,” you say playfully.
“I’ll trade you for my toast,” he offers.
Rolling your eyes you accept, grabbing the bacon and shoving it in his mouth, “Fine.”
“Thank you,” he says, muffled.
You munch on your toast and catch Mr. Hunhams stare.
“I see you two finally made up,” he comments with a sly smile on his face.
“Mm-hmm,” you cover your mouth with your hand as you chew and turn away embarrassed.
Mary joins you all a second later, emerging as usual with her coffee and a cigarette. She switches between eyeing the two men infront of her, “Why’d you two miss supper last night?”
Mr. Hunham and Angus freeze. “We went into town on, uh, some school-related business.”
“And you couldn’t call? You left me and Y/n out in the cold.”
“Yeah Angus,” you pout at him as he nudges your ankle under the table.
“Sorry,” Hunham turned to you, “And to Ms. L/n.”
“No worries. Really. I had fun,” you smile up at Mary who pats your shoulders gently.
Danny, a man you had been introduced to a few days ago, enters with a mop and bucket. You wave to him which he acknowledges with a slight bow of his head.
“Good morning, everybody.”
“Hi, Danny,” Mr. Hunham greets.
“Good morning. You can go on in and make yourself a plate,” Mary points to the kitchen.
“I just saw something funny,” Danny focuses onto your friend. “I walked into the gym, and somebody had vomited in there.”
Mary and you raise your eyebrows in sync.
“You don’t say. I don’t know anything about that,” Mr. Hunham feigns surprise.
“Yeah, me neither,” Angus wipes his mouth as he speaks.
“I’ll look into that right away. Thank you,” he dismisses the conversation.
“Mm-hmm. I see how it is. Trying to leave us out of your boy's club,” Mary tsks. Danny places the custodian supplies beside Angus' chair and walks away.
“Gross Angus,” you say, like it's his full name. You shake your head in disappointment. He nudges your ankle harder, shaking the silverware above. You fight back, beginning to use your hands as a defense. You two are soon in a game of tug of war.
“Knock it off you two! You are acting like fractious children!” Mr. Hunham scolds and stands up from his seat. Across the table, he tries to part your hands. “This is not how young scholarly men and women behave!”
You and Angus are too drunk on laughter to care. …
You and Angus are in a search for Mr. Hunham who stomped away upon realizing stopping you two was a fruitless cause. You intend to apologize; Angus intends to nod along as you speak. You follow the chatter you hear coming from the kitchen to find Mary replacing you as you as her sous chef.
“Hey that's my job,” you point at the potatoes Mr. Hunham is peeling.
“That’s the culinary industry for you. It’s cut-throat. You still want to be a part of it?” Mary peers over her glasses.
You run a hand through your hair, shrugging. “Um. Mr. Hunham?”
He stops his task, “Yes Miss L/n?”
“I want to apologize for my-,” Angus clears his throat, “Our behavior. You were right. It was very inappropriate. Emily Post would turn in her grave.”
“She certainly would. I accept your apology, however unnecessary. I understand it was that childlike spirit in you that is still intact that came out.”
You shoot him a quizzical look. “Uh yeah…”
Angus gasps behind you as he notices the tray of brownies on a table beside him.
“Brownies? God, yes. I want all of these.”
“Each of you just take one. The rest are for the Christmas party tonight.”
Angus snags you a brownie before practically chomping his down.
“What Christmas party? There’s a Christmas party?” He perks up like a dog being told he’s going out for a walk.
“Yeah, at Miss Crane’s house. I’m only gonna go for a little bit, show my face and say I was there. You know Miss Crane said she invited you too.”
“Who’s Miss Crane?” You ask, inspecting the brownie and wondering what Mary does so differently to get it to taste so good.
“School secretary,” said Angus with a full mouth. “Just one of the loveliest faculty members at Barton,” said Mr. Hunham at the same time.
A beat passed as you all noted the flustered expression that passed through Mr. Hunham face.
“Ah- anyways, she didn’t mean it. We were just making small talk.”
“If you don’t want to go, don’t go. I’ll take them.”
“Mary can take us,” problem solved, Angus thinks.
“Oh! Okay… so we are going! I packed a dress that’s been collecting dust in my luggage.”
“No, that’s not how it works. You’re under my supervision,” Mr. Hunham reminds.
“Okay, maybe it’s fine for you to sit around reading books all day, but I am losing my goddamn mind! Jesus!” Angus' suddenness makes you flinch. You avoid the flying brownie as he storms past you.
“Hey! Watch your mouth, young man. Not on Christmas Eve!” Mary yells after him.
“You, see?” Mr. Hunham points at his retreating figure. “I can’t trust him in a social situation.”
“Mr. Hunham, if you’re too chickenshit to go to that party, then just say so. But don’t fuck it up for the little asshole or his sweet little angel of a friend! What’s wrong with you? It’s just a party. What are you afraid of?”
“I don’t know,” Mr. Hunham said so quietly you could hardly hear him.
“Shit. Now you’ve got me nervous,” Mary wipes her hands on her apron.
You’re still standing there until they hear you go retreat the brownie and throw it in a nearby waste bin. “I could replace those?” You laugh uncomfortably.
“That’s alright sweetie. I want to come out of this party with my reputation intact,” Mary winks.
“Ouch,” you clutch your heart jokingly. “So can I go get dolled up?” …
Someway, somehow, Mary had gotten Hunham to take you to the party. You got ready in the room Ye-Joon and Alex had occupied before. You hadn’t anticipated wearing anything fancy, so the dress you had was a relatively simple one. It was red which fit the Christmas theme well enough and ended just above your knees. You hoped Mr. Hunham wouldn’t make a big deal out of it like Ms. Orchard probably would. You wore flats and did your hair the best you could without products. Although you had managed to give it some more volume by using some leftover soda cans that had yet to be thrown out. It was a common hack all Janie Patrick School girls learned in their freshman year. It was practically a seminar, as the senior girls taught you how to roll them into your hair just right.
You waltz out of your room, feeling as fresh as a daisy and catch Angus shaving. You sneak up behind him, putting your hands on his shoulder and looking at him through the mirror. “What is there to shave Augie? You’re as clean shaven as a newborn baby,” you tease.
You try to check your makeup and feel Angus stiffen under your touch. You remove your hands and see him staring at you open-mouthed.
“What?” You panic. Had you screwed up your hair? Was your mascara too clumpy on your lashes?
“Nothing,” he gives you a once over as he gulps. “You just, you look, you… you look pretty.”
“Oh,” you tuck your hair behind your ear, “Thank you. It’s just the makeup.”
“No, it’s not that. You always look pretty; I just never have a reason to tell you. But I can… today.”
“You look handsome everyday too…” you fidget with your hands.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you smile up at him bashfully. Quickly you take the razor from his hands, “even more handsome once you change. We’re going to be late."
You run back to your room and try to regulate your breathing. In the reflection of the fogged-up window, you admire yourself momentarily. You suppose you do look pretty tonight. …
You four travel in Mr. Hunhams rickety car. You awe at the town Christmas lights before arriving in front of what you assumed to be Miss Cranes house. One by one you all enter, lingering by the front door like wallflowers. You inch closer to Angus, self-conscious suddenly. You loop your arms together when Miss Crane enters to greet you.
“Oh, hi. Oh, you made it! Welcome,” she pauses to address you and Angus, “Aw hi!”
“I'm so glad you're here,” she tells Mary.
She laughs at the flattery and refers to the brownies, “Where should I put these?”
“Um, oh,” Miss Crane lifts the cloth draped over the tray and gasps, “Those, I’ll be putting on my bedside table.”
“Oh! You're a wicked woman.”
“Oh, you have no idea,” she takes the tray off Mary's hands.
“Certainly a lot of people here,” Hunham comments, surveying the room. It is lively with Christmas classics blasting on the radio and kids running around playing tag. The entire house is decked out, almost looking like the spirit of Christmas had barfed out the decorations. Some adults take a swing of their liquor, others smoke, others do both as they chat.
“Yeah, yeah. Some family, friends from town. Only you guys from work.”
“That’s my mom on the couch,” She points to an older lady sitting by the silver and blue Christmas tree. Next to the woman dancing with her toddler who wears no pants. “Uh, that’s my sister Kathy and her son Marvin.”
As she continues to point out each invitee you wander with Angus further into the living room. He seems captivated by a snow globe on a mantel. He shakes it and watches as the snow falls around Santa. You too are enchanted by the sweet melody that plays from it.
“Angus!” Miss Crane snaps you both from your trance. Miss Crane stands next to a girl who appears to be around your age.
“This is Angus Tully. He’s one of our students at Barton. Angus, this is my niece, Elise,” she introduces.
“Niece Elise. Nice,” he glances at you, hoping you got the joke as Elise rolls her eyes at his word play. You give him a tight-lipped smile. “And is his friend Y/n L/n. She goes to the school across the lake from Barton. Janie Patrick’s.”
“Nice to meet you,” you stretch out your hand for her to shake. She does so awkwardly.
“And this is Mr. Hunham. He’s one of our finest teachers. History, right?
“Ancient Civilizations, yes”.
“And this is Mary Lamb. She’s the manager of the cafeteria.”
You don’t know why, but you start chewing your nails. A habit you had thought you had broken in the seventh grade. You bite down particularly hard every time Angus glances at Elise.
“Hey, why don’t you take Angus down to the basement and introduce him to our family tradition?” Miss Crane has a hint of something you can’t identify in her voice.
“Come on,” Elise tilts her head and hesitantly he seems to follow.
“Um. What about Y/n? Can’t she come?”
“Don't worry about that! I have someone I think she would like to meet,” Miss Crane nudges you forward.
“Oh?” you say worriedly.
Elise takes Angus away by the hand and distantly you hear him call out, “Wait what?”
“His name is Joseph Leery. He’s a freshman at Yale!” she gushes.
“Oh? Great? Go bulldogs? That’s the mascot, right?”
“Honey, save your charm for him!”
Angus descends downstairs. He repeatedly glances behind him, desperately searching for the remaining bits of your voice. “Um. Maybe I should go back upstairs? My friend Y/n doesn’t do so well with crowds so.”
“Nonsense! She’ll be fine. If I know Auntie Lydia, she’s probably introducing her to the Leery's son, Joe.”
“Joe?” Angus scowls at the name.
“Yeah. Family friend of ours.”
Elise leads him to an arts and craft table, full of scattered red, green, silver and white pipe cleaners. Glitter is spilled everywhere, and the kids take their time decorating their popsicle sticks.
“This is what you wanted to show me?”
“I grew up playing down here during my aunt’s parties. I think it’s kind of cool. There’s a purity to it. I mean, every child is an artist. The problem is remaining an artist when we grow up. Picasso said that.”
“Picasso’s cool,” Angus digs his hand further into his front pockets, “I saw Guérnica once. You know, the big mural, with the horse,” He tries to mimic it as best he can.
“Yeah, I know Guérnica. You really saw it?”
“Yeah. At the Museum of Modern Art in New York. It’s huge. My dad took me.” And Y/n too, he wants to say. Although if what Elise said was true, that Miss Crane fancied herself a modern-day cupid, then he figures he should try not to scare her off by bringing up another girl.
Although it's hard not to think of you when he thinks of his dad. His dad liked puzzles which you happened to have a plethora of that your parents had bought you to keep you entertained during long plane rides. This was before they trusted you enough to leave home alone.
In the winter you’d sit by the fireplace and lay out the puzzles of Monet’s Water Lilies. Then when the spring would offer you limited warmth, you’d all be found in the backyard of Angus’s house trying to piece together Van Gogh's Starry Night.
So many art inspired puzzles eventually had Angus’s father turn to you both and asking, “How would you guys like to see these in real life?”
That easter break had you three crammed into a yellow taxicab and enjoying New York pizza slices.
“Hey Guérnica,” she breaks through his nostalgia plagued mind, “You just gave me an idea,” she smiles.
Mr. Hunham stands by the funky-looking Christmas tree when he feels someone’s lips crash onto his cheek.
“Oh!” He says shocked. He feels as if he had just been dumped into a cold bucket of water.
“Mistletoe!” Miss Crane laughs, pointing at the little green and red plant that hangs on the ceiling. She hands him the Jim Beam he asked for earlier as she wipes the side of his face clean to get rid of any lipstick that might have been transferred.
“Yes, of course,” he laughs along, unsure of what else to do but to let her caress his face. “I didn’t you know you were quite the mastermind.”
Miss Crane tilts her head and motions him to elaborate
“Playing matchmaker for Mr. Tully and Ms. L/n.”
“Oh! Well, when Angus said they weren’t an item I figured they’d were itching for a chance to mingle outside of their little circle. I hope I didn’t overstep anything. After all I imagine they don’t get many opportunities to openly chat with people of the opposite sex! Dating is crucial in shaping character.”
“Yes, I imagine it is,” Mr. Hunham agrees, unsure if that is fact or fiction. He is awful at letting silence just be silence, so he does what he does best. Spew nonsensical facts.
“You know, it’s interesting. Aeneas carried mistletoe with him when he descended into Hades in search of his father.”
“Oh. Huh…” Now it is Miss Crane who is unsure of what to do with that.
“Um. Anyways. I like your tree. It’s really space age,” he comments and is hit slightly in the shoulder by her enthusiastic hand.
“I brought it to commemorate the moon landing!”
“Really? Wow.”
Miss Crane takes a sip of her punch, “So where is your family this Christmas.”
“Nowhere. I’m an only child. My mother died when I was young.”
“And your father?”
“Let's just say I left home when I was fifteen.” If Mr. Hunham had known this was what small talk topics had evolved into, then he must have been right in avoiding social functions all this time.
“You ran away?” She guesses.
“Worse. I got a scholarship to Barton. And from there, I went to college and never looked back.”
“But you did a little,” she points out.
“Hmm?”
“I mean you came back here.”
“Ah.” He really did not feel like being questioned so heavily tonight. Not to pat himself in the back, but he believes he's credible enough to label himself as a decent writer, able to handle the equal weight of a pen and his words with ease. But as a conversationalist, he figures even one of the dimwits in his Ancient Civilization classes have him beat.
“It feels kind of like home I guess,” he muses, “and I guess I thought I could make a difference. I mean, I used to think I could prepare them for the world even a little. Provide standard and grounding that Dr. Greene always drilled into us.”
Mr. Hunham can feel himself run out of breath, “But, uh the world doesn’t make sense anymore. I mean it's on fire. The rich don’t give a shit. Poor kids are cannon fodder. Integrity is a punchline. Trust is just the name of a bank.”
“Well…” Miss Crane tries to soothe him by running her hand back and forth on his arm, “look, if that's all true then now is when they most need someone like you.”
Mr. Hunham knows when he is being humored and told what people he wants to hear. He looks at Miss. Crane and for the first time in a while he is looked back at with genuineness.
Elise and Angus finger paint on a wide piece of blank paper. He’s mixing the colors, and they all tend to come out looking a sickly brown. Elise covers her side with an untainted red. She seems to be more into it than him as she incorporates real swirls and shapes onto their canvas.
“Am I doing this right?”
“There is no right or wrong,” she reassures. He feels her stare linger on him for a second. He is scared to look up. “Are you okay? You seem… gloomy.”
“Yeah. I’m fine. But, uh, tell me about this Joe guy.”
She looks at him suspiciously, “Why?”
“Just curious. Don’t think I’ve ever heard of him around my school is all.”
“Well probably because he graduated over a year ago.”
“So, he’s in college.”
“Yes. A freshman at Yale.”
“Yale!” He shouts loud enough for even the kids to glare at him for disturbing their fun. “Sorry,” he apologies to them.
“Would you say he’s cool,” he asks a millisecond later.
Elise tries not to laugh at his blatant desperation, “Yeah I would say so.”
“Funny?”
“He's basically Gene Wilder.”
“The dude from The Producers?!”
“Yes, and he was also a football quarterback.”
“What.”
“And valedictorian, and the heir to the Campbell Soup Company.”
“What the hell? Is this guy superman or,” Angus takes a minute to recognize the smug face on Elise. Finally, she breaks out in a loud giggle.
“Oh,” Angus sighs in relief, “You’re messing with me.”
“A little,” she says through fits of laughter. “Anyways if you’re so worried why don’t you go back up there?”
“I was just worried that he would try something. But technically he sounds alright.”
“Ah. So, you’re jealous?”
Angus rolls his eyes, “No. I’m a concerned friend.”
“I’m not sure about that. Concerned friends don’t start interrogating the girl they are on a hypothetical date with.”
She leans down to point at a glob of paint in the corner of the paper, “I think you even doodled her name.”
“Shit,” he curses under his breath, going over it and trying to cover it up along with his embarrassment.
“Don’t worry. It’s not like this was going to go be framed at the MET.”
“What are you implying anyway,” he narrows his eyes.
“You’re going crazy being gone from her for two minutes. What do you think I’m implying?”
Angus slumps his shoulders and admits what had been ignoring. It's like a message in a bottle he threw into the sea, desperately trying to avoid the shore. Even when it does reach land, the cap is tightly sealed, clinging on to the bottle and doing it best to remain unread. When it does pop open and the paper is unfolded, although it might be difficult to read, the message still exists. It still exists even though time fought so hard to destroy it.
“I do think about her that way. Sometimes. Then the rational side comes out and tells me that it's human nature for a girl and guy friend to think about each other that way.”
“Well, does she know you think about her that way?”
“No. Sometimes I imagine she feels the same, but you’d have to know her to understand why I’m so confused. She’s the most thoughtful, kind, and perfect person in the world. It's hard to tell if she’s showing that side to everyone or if I’m special enough for her to give me that treatment.”
“You know Picasso also said that ‘Everything you can imagine is real’.”
“Are you Picasso's biographer?”
Without missing a beat, Elise smirks and says, “Yes.”
Angus is up the stairs without having thanking her, too fueled by adrenaline to practice basic manners. He’ll have to tell Miss Crane to pass on the memo. He’s on the hunt for you but is yanked into the house's kitchen by a mysterious hand.
“Hey?” He asks, disoriented.
Danny is staring straight at him, with both hands on either side of his shoulder.
“I need you to find Mr. Hunham,” he orders. Angus looks past the man to see Mary weeping heavily into the sink. Understanding, he nods firmly and is back out the door.
Joseph Leery is not half bad. He’s kind of funny, clever and not a bad person to pass the time with. You sit in the back of Miss Crane's living room on a couch all to yourselves. He tells you how he’s majoring in English in hopes of becoming a journalist.
“What kind of journalist?”
“Investigative. I would love to be the next Upton Sinclair. Or Seymour Hersch.”
“Ew! The Jungle made me so sick for a week after. It was so gross.”
“I know but that's what made it so great. Exposing the meat packing industry probably put him on a few hit lists too.”
“Oh yeah definitely. So, then who are you planning to expose?”
He laughs, “I don’t know yet. Is there any chance you’re planning on becoming some corrupt politician?”
“Not in the foreseeable future. I’ll let you know if I ever do,” you giggle.
“What are you planning to do then?”
“Then? Um... Like as president? I don’t know. Fund schools-.”
“No,” he laughs harder, “I mean like with college and life. Do you have anything planned out?”
“Erm, not really. My parents probably want me to go to the Ivy Leagues and crap. I should have a plan, I know, but I guess I’ve been putting it on the back burner.”
“Why?”
You shift in your seat. “I have this friend. He’s sort of had this rocky life, not I haven’t, and I know it's stupid to mold your entire life to fit around one person’s but for him I would.”
Joseph sniffs and straightens his posture. “Sorry. Lydia didn’t mention you having a boyfriend.”
“No, I don’t,” you stress, “I just really care for him, you know. We’ve known each other for so long. He’s important to me.”
“Y/n have you ever read Persuasion?” he asked suddenly.
“Um, not yet. I know the gist of it.”
“Well, it's ultimately about regret, right? Anne spends eight years longing for Wentworth when she could have been with him instead, had she not given into pressures. The point of the novel is not to wait to love the person you’re sure is it for you.”
“Love?” You hear someone say above you. You look up to see Angus, his arms stiff by his side. He glowers at Joseph. You jump off the seat and on operating on some strange reflex you go to fix his shirt collar that has stood up.
“What's wrong?”
“What were you guys talking about?” he interrogates.
“Books. Why?”
Angus doesn’t buy it but ignores the gnawing feeling in his gut, “Mary needs us in the kitchen. Go ahead, I still need to get Hunham.”
“Oh…Alright,” you turn and wave to your brief companion. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah maybe,” Joseph lifts his canned soda as if to say cheers.
You walk on ahead as Angus loiters behind, silently scrutinizing him.
Joseph takes a sip from his coke and points towards the direction you disappeared to. “Your girl went that way man.”
Angus rolls his eyes but leaves, nonetheless.
Miss Crane and Paul are sitting next to each other, their drink half-finished. They can feel the red tinge on their cheeks and themselves becoming looser.
“Are you planning anything special for tomorrow?” Lydia inquires.
“No. Why? Are you having a…”
“No, I just thought maybe you’d be doing something special for Angus and Y/n.”
Mr. Hunham shakes his head and Miss Crane lets out a small gasp, “You should! Help preserve some of the magic. Angus may be a little difficult, but he’s still just a kid. So is Y/n. And life catches up to them so fast. Them,” she stares at her lap, contemplating. “Ha. Us!”
“You’re a very sweet person, Miss Crane,” he compliments.
Miss Crane melts, “So are you, when you want to be,” she quips, “and it’s Lydia.”
He enjoys the feeling of camaraderie between them. He feels a cool breeze at the back of his neck and the sound of the door opening.
“Excuse me for a minute,” Miss Crane gets up and moves past him.
Mr. Hunham turns in time to see a man take off his coat, a gift under his arm. A moment later Miss Crane is there to receive him with a kiss. Together they walk away, and Mr. Hunham is left alone. Once again.
“Mr. Hunham, could you come with me, please?” Angus nearly trips as he stumbles over to the teacher.
“Yeah, what is it?” He sighs as he gets up with a groan.
“Come on, it's serious,” Angus leaps away. Peeking at him at the corner to see is Hunham is following, “Come on.”
Mr. Hunham is dragged into the kitchen, where he spots Mary, crying quietly to herself. Danny is next to her. You’re across the room biting your nails and hinting at Mr. Hunham to do something.
“Mary? You alright?” he questions, even though he knows it's in vain.
“Just leave me alone,” She mumbles.
“Want me to take you home?” Danny offers, placing what he thinks is a consoling hand on her back.
“Back off! Back off!” Mary whisper-shouts, her hands shaking down in anger. Mr. Hunham shuts the door, giving her privacy if nothing else.
“He’s gone,” she erupts into full on sobs. The mask comes off and she’s no longer Mary, the woman who appears to deal with grief like it was nothing but a bump on the road. Instead, it's Mary, who lost a son and whose grief has entirely consumed her until she can no longer breathe.
Angus and Mr. Hunham support Mary on both sides, as they make their way to the car. “I was right. This is why I hate parties. That was a disaster. Total disaster!”
“Speak for yourself. I was having a pretty profound conversation. I was about to make some serious life altering moves,” he blurts, angry and unable to believe his window opportunity was slammed shut. He had an internal plan. That'd he’d whisk you away from stupid Joseph and ask you to dance, maybe lead you to a mistletoe and see where it goes.
“With whom? The niece? Are you kidding me? This poor woman is bereft, and all you can think about is some silly girl.”
“I don’t need you feeling sorry for me.”
“I’m not talking about Elise; I'm just saying this is the first good thing that came from being in this prison with you.”
“Need I remind you it’s not my fault you’re stuck here? Do you think I want to babysit you? I was praying to the God I don’t believe in that your mother would pick up the phone, or your father would arrive in a helicopter or a submarine or a flying fucking saucer to take you-.”
“My father’s dead,”
“Angus-,” he hears you say but he holds up his hand for you to stop speaking.
Mr. Hunham stops dead in his rant, “But I thought your father-.”
“That’s just some rich guy my mom married. Give me your keys,” he sticks out his hand.
“It’s unlocked.”
Furiously, Angus stomps away. You excuse yourself from the two adults before doing your damnedest to not slip on the ice. Flats at this time of the year were not your best idea.
“Angus,” you reach him, tugging at the back of his jacket so that he’ll slow down. “Why did you say that?”
“Say what?”
“The thing about your dad,” you mumble.
“The way my mom and Stanley talk about him, he might as well be don’t you think?”
“You don’t mean that,” you scold. “What happened? Are you really this mad about Elise?”
“No. Damn it. I don’t even like Elise.”
“Oh,” despite the circumstance, you can’t help but feel giddy. “Then what is it?”
“You seemed to be having a pretty good time yourself with Joe on that couch.”
“Joe?” You cross your arms. “You mean Joseph?”
“Oh great. You have a nickname for him.”
“Angus, Joseph is his legal name, that's the opposite of a nickname.”
“I don’t want to talk about Joe,” he says. You both reach the end of the block where Hunhams car is parked. In the distance you see them come closer, their feet crushing the white snow.
“You brought him up,” you massage your temple. You think back of the endless list of books you have read, or the many movies you’ve watched. You scour through the genres. You think of how Joseph managed to connect to life. You think of the rewatch of Cactus Flower with Mary. How envious Ingrid Bergman character was every time she saw Julian talk to Toni.
“Angus, were you jealous of Joseph?”
He stops his ongoing struggle with the car handle, finally prying it open.
“Were you jealous of Elise?” he asks you.
You frown and fixate on the pavement; your nails dig into your palm as your hands turn into fists. Deafening silence engulfs you before Angus exhales heavily. Before you can speak, Mr. Hunham arrives and motions for you to scooch over so he can open the passenger side for Mary.
“Sorry,” you apologize and get in the backseat.
“Straight to bed you hear me,” Mr. Hunham warns once you are all buckled in. “Enough theatrics for one day.”
“Mmhmm,” Angus responds, but all he is doing is looking at you.
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airas-story · 1 day
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I'm a sucker for angst ironstrange especially amnesia!Tony (and usually happy ending at the end) please make more lol <333
So this is a continuation of the Confabulation Complication. There will probably be either three or four parts depending on the route I take. We have not yet gotten out of the angst.
“Boss?” FRIDAY interrupted. “Miss Potts is requesting access.”
Tony glanced at the wall of windows. They were blacked out and he couldn’t see Pepper, but that meant that Pepper couldn’t see him either. “Tell her I’m busy.” And he was. He’d had FRIDAY gather all of the pertinent footage of the past five years and was skimming through it.
There was a possibility that he’d lost and confused memories from before then, but Tony could handle that later.
Things that had happened in the tower or the compound were easiest to find, followed by things that had happened while he was in his armor.
But there were far too many things that hadn’t happened in either of those situations. He was irritated to realize that he’d spent more time with Stephen—Strange? Tony wasn’t sure—in his sanctum than in Tony’s space. He had almost no data points to tell him how to react to Stephen.
Then again, Tony could just avoid being around Stephen. He could completely skip out on that particular complication.
He could just avoid everyone for that matter, because he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to be around most of them.
Some things he remembered weren’t too far off. He remembered JARVIS dying, he remembered Ultron. He very much did not remember Thor picking him up off the ground by his neck or Steve throwing his shield at Tony’s chest and sort of wished he didn’t know about either incident now.
“Boss,” FRIDAY said. “You’ve been in here for three days. Miss Potts is getting worried.”
“Tell her I’m fine. Just getting caught up on my past history.”
He’d watched the break up with Pepper first. The first one. It had been… well, it had been almost exactly as he remembered it. It left a sick feeling in his chest and he’d had FRIDAY give him a presentation of their relationship in the time since.
He’d analyzed the footage desperately. They were good together, right? Not perfect, but that was an entirely unrealistic expectation. But good. He glanced to the side where he’d saved the video of Pepper pulling him into his arms in the aftermath of Ultron and JARVIS. The compassion and love on her face was real and his own expression when he looked at her was somewhere between desperate love and aching need.
That was real.
He didn’t remember it, but it was real. It was good.
“Miss Potts suggested that you may have better luck talking it out with her.”
Tony shook his head immediately. He wasn’t ready to face her. She didn’t deserve to have to deal with a fiancé who didn’t even remember loving her. That was why he was doing this, so he could find the pieces of history that would show him how to love her again.
Or at least how to pretend until it was true.
Because it’d be true again, right? He’d fallen in love with her before, surely he’d fall in love with her again?
He had to. Because this was Pepper.
“Tell her I’ll see her soon,” he said.
He could tell FRIDAY didn’t like the answer, but he had no doubt that she passed it on.
He turned back to the footage of the past he only remembered distorted pieces of.
A spark of light to his left interrupted his scanning and Tony looked over to see a portal opening a few feet away.
Tony froze. The sight of a portal opening into his lab was familiar and the way his stomach flipped with pleasure was entirely instinctual. The nausea that followed was a more appropriate response. He very much did not want to deal with seeing Stephen. He couldn’t bring himself to react though as the portal opened and Stephen stepped through.
Tony’s averted his gaze immediately. He couldn’t look at Stephen. It’d just confuse him.
“What are you doing here?” Tony asked.
“Miss Potts called me,” Stephen said. “She asked me to come convince you out of your lab.”
Tony swallowed hard. Pepper played dirty. “Well, you tried. You failed, but you tried. You should probably head back out, now. Tell Pep I’ll be out once I’ve figured out—”
“You’re not going to get your memories back watching footage,” Stephen interrupted. “That’s not how it works.”
Tony clenched his jaw. “I’m not trying to get my memories back.” Not really, at least. His quick dive into confabulation had already told him it wouldn’t be that easy. Sure, he hoped it would spark something, bring back the memories that would make everything make sense again—not that he’d gotten lucky, yet. No, he wasn’t trying to get his memories back, but he could train himself off of the footage, could at least pretend to be the person people expected.
He’d always been good at that.
And hey, fake it til you make it. Tony’d always been good at that too.
It didn’t help much with Stephen, who Tony had abominably little footage of. From the corner of his eye he saw Stephen shift, moving closer.
Tony stiffened. 
“Tony, I know that you’re confused—”
“You don’t know anything, actually,” Tony retorted. “I’m fine. Give me a week and no one will be able to tell the difference.”
Stephen didn’t answer immediately; the silence was strangely alarming. “What is that supposed to mean, Tony?”
Tony waved at the footage. “I’m relearning what people expect to see. It won’t be—”
“Tony,” Stephen sounded vaguely horrified. “That’s not in any way healthy. Pretending to be someone you’re not—”
“Is what I’ve done most of my life,” Tony said shortly. “I know how to mask, Stephen. Now, you’ve tried your best, but I’m not in the mood to be convinced out of here.”
Stephen let out a tired sigh. “Tony. You’ve been in here three days. Your fiancé—” Tony flinched, ”—is worried about you. I, as your friend—“ Tony flinched again, “—am worried about you.”
“Yeah, well take your worry somewhere else. Like I said, a week, and then—”
“And are you going to do that with me?” Stephen demanded. “Is that all I’m going to get from you from now on? The person you think I expect to see?”
Tony whirled to face Stephen, frustration spiraling out. “What else am I supposed to do, Stephen? I don’t… I don’t even know if I really know you. The you I remember… The you I remember loved me.” God, why did everything have to go so wrong? “The you I remember would have kissed me in that hospital room, self-imposed rules about kissing be damned. The you I remember would…” He swallowed. “I don’t know if I even know you, yet. I remember kissing you. I remember teasing you whenever I managed to make you blush. I remember curling up with you in the sanctum and just… enjoying each other’s presence as though we didn’t need anything from each other but each other. And that’s all a… that’s all a lie. I don’t… I don’t know you.”
And it hurt. It hurt that Tony had versions of a life that didn’t exist inside his head. It hurt that he wanted it so much when he knew he wasn’t supposed to. It hurt to know that there was no chance he’d ever have that.
“You know me, Tony,” Stephen said quietly. “We may not have kissed, but you certainly teased me plenty. You’ve spent hours working in the sanctum, just spending time with me. You’ve—”
“Stop,” Tony demanded. “Stop. I don’t know you. I’m not sure I want to know you.” 
Stephen flinched back, hurt crossing his face. “I’m your friend, Tony.”
Tony ran a hand through his hair, the rough gesture tugging at snarls that probably needed to be brushed out. “You don’t get it, Stephen. I’m in love with you. But it’s all a lie.”
Everything was.
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chopper-witch · 3 days
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Some Elf!Tav who knew Astarion before he turned. Usage of they/them/theirs to keep it gn, no descriptions of Tav beyond implied pointy ears bc elf…
this is long af btw. And apologies for weird grammar/spelling.
Tav who knew Astarion two centuries ago. They were both part of minor noble households, both houses fading out of existence after the Spellplague, and were more obligatory friends than anything because of all of that. Tav who soon becomes the only member of her household and no one left to Astarion’s. Tav who enters their adult years alone (Astarion isn’t alone for his, of course, but he doesn’t notice when his 110th birthday hits; plus in most ways he is alone).
Tav who gets kidnapped and upon their first meeting after the Nautiloid crash doesn’t recognize Astarion, but he doesn’t recognize them either. Astarion isn’t incredibly common of a name but it’s also not uncommon enough to alert Tav that it’s the Astarion Ancunín she knew as a child. It isn’t until that night when Tav is staring at him across the fire do they start to realize who is sitting across from them.
Tav who doesn’t say anything for a few days - worried they just took too hard of a hit from the crash. That it’s just a misunderstanding on their behalf. Astarion died. They visited his grave out of respect a few times. The Ancunín line died soon after he did. They saw it happen. They were there. They visited his parents, out of obligation of course, and comforted them awkwardly. Their only child gone.
Tav who continues to deny the truth, until Astarion tries to bite them. Well, a few nights after he first bites them, when he begins to open up. The puzzle pieces begin to fit together now that they have more.
Tav who starts off the subject with a “I’m about to sound crazy” and Astarion rolling his eyes and also retorting that he doesn’t want to hear it.
Tav who asks if he is of the family Ancunín, which he has not heard spoken since those 200 years ago. Astarion’s defenses raise immediately and he demands to know where you heard such a thing.
Tav who explains who they are. That they are of a family Astarion once knew well. It takes Astarion a few minutes to understand what they are saying - and if it is even true. He can’t remember his own eye color, how could he possibly remember a person he only befriended out of obligation.
Tav who helps jog his memory with little stories - the times he knocked over an expensive vase in some other nobles house, the time they slammed face first into a door, the time they were both caught sneaking extra desserts. “Treacle tarts,” Tav had chuckled.
Tav who watches as he has the faintest glint of recognition in his eyes. Astarion gasps quietly, before letting out a quiet “you used to have a green bracelet you wore everywhere. Your eldest sister gave it to you for your 10th birthday. Whatever happened to it?”
Tav who pulls out the broken bracelet from their pants pocket. It had broken many, many years ago so they repurposed it into more of a lucky keepsake that could be attached to a belt.
Tav who treats Astarion like they were never apart. They are still incredibly of his boundaries and unusually perceptive to his discomfort, but Astarion practically begs them to keep going sometimes. Leaning their head against him while retelling a memory Astarion long forgot may be uncomfortable for him, but he wants to sit through it.
Tav who tearfully explains what has happened to both their families since he died. How they are both the last ones left. How she went through most of her life alone. But tries to brush it off in comparison to Astarion’s abuse, only for Astarion to remind them that loneliness is loneliness. Fear is fear. Isolation is isolation. It doesn’t matter how it came to be.
Tav who tries desperately to hold out on any romantic advances. It wasn’t hard for them to figure out that Astarion had been used and abused for far worse purposes than he initially let on. They can tell the idea of intimacy makes him quiver with anxiety even if he hides it well. He’s had the same tell for over 200 years. So it’s mostly gentle touches and playful shoves and
Tav who finds themselves being kissed by a desperate Astarion, both still covered in blood - Cazador’s blood - just outside their room at the Elfsong. Everyone else has gone in and Astarion yanked them back and spun them into a kiss.
Tav who worries over him immediately. Something must be wrong with Astarion. Or a surge of post battle high has him out of his right mind. But Astarion explains through barely held back tears that he is finally free. That for the first time ever, even before he was turned, he feels in charge of himself completely. And as long as they want him, he wants them. And he wants to have sex with them as his first real act of freedom. He feels safe with them. He feels at home with them. He feels like he can use his body for what he wants - and he wants them.
Tav who agrees. They’ve spent the past few months falling more and more in love with Astarion. As long as Astarion is truly okay with it, which is confirmed by the little tadpole squirming in their brains, then they are okay with it.
Tav who, after the brain is defeated, doesn’t even know where to start with the rest of their life (beyond following Astarion as the sun burns him). All they know, and all Astarion knows, is that they both want to spend it together.
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estrellayluna · 17 hours
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Devotion Nanami Kento
Synopsis : Dreaming of your late father, you realized visiting his grave shouldn’t feel like chore nor burden. You change the way you view visiting his grave with the simple pleasures of a bakery that’s right next door to the flower shop.
(This is a bit long, please bear with me)
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-
To say you had been woken up due to the early sun beaming through your blinds would be an understatement. Unfortunately this morning you were woken up due to a cold sweat, seeming to gasp for air at the same time.
It has been 5 months since the day you lost your father. And just in 7 days, it’ll be the 6th month mark. The thought of another month since his passing caused you to drown yourself in the comfort of your blankets, trying to block the sun from bothering you anymore along with the rest of your problems.
Hoping to rest just a while longer was cut short to your phone ringing somewhere alongside you. Desperately trying to find the device to put an end to the loud disturbance you answered the phone while mustering the strength to get out of bed.
“Hello?”
“(Y/N) sweetie, how are you?” It was the soothing voice of your mother on the other end.
“Hi mom, I just woke up not long ago actually. If it weren’t for your call right now I would still be rotting in bed.” Your mom let out a soft laugh, causing you to smile.
“Well I’m glad I was of help this early in the morning my love, I just wanted to call you and check up. It doesn’t seem to get any easier for me to make it non awkward for us.” You sighed just lightly hoping your mom didn’t catch.
“6 months soon and I still can’t seem to get it right can I, (Y/N)?” You hum in response to your mom.
“It’s nothing to worry about mom, I’m an adult now. If I were a child I think fathers whole passing would have been a whole different story for us.” You respond calmly while making your way to the kitchen.
Your parents divorced when you were a child. Being raised by a single mother and only seeing your father on the weekends growing up. Most young kids tended to favor the father more but seeing your mother struggle to make ends meet made you see things differently at a young age. Especially once you were understanding of the situation was when your mother told you the truth. Your father was unfaithful to your mother.
“Plan on doing anything special this time around (Y/N)?” Your mother asks as you pour yourself a cup of tea. You paused. ‘Should I tell her?’
Since your fathers passing, you couldn’t really make out what to think about it. Of course you were sad. But ultimately each time you actually sat down and thought about it, you felt nothing. Like a void that was not empty nor full. In the beginning your mother was concerned, causing her to have her own doubts if she had done the right thing years ago in opening up to you about the truth.
But you had reassured her multiple times in the past that even before being revealed to the truth that your relationship with your father was strained. Something you also couldn’t pinpoint as to why. So there was no need to worry she failed to protect you and your relationship with your father.
“I dreamt about him last night mom.” You replied in a hushed tone while sitting down on your small circular wooden table.
“It was a short dream. Though it felt so real. I couldn’t make him out in the beginning but once I realized it was him I broke down. He was two other little kids alongside with him. They were both girls. One at least two years old and another eleven years old,” you started to feel hot tears forming in your eyes “it felt so real mom. I don’t know where people go once they pass but if that was a sign that he’s doing alright I’ll go along with that.” Tears started to stream down your face, your left hand holding your phone up to your ear and your right clutching your chest.
“Well it’s a possibility that could be true my love. When your father passed I liked to think he’s with your older sister sometimes too.”
Your mothers response made you smile, wiping away your tears you let out a small laugh.
“Do you think the younger child must be another’s lovers child?” You respond with a witty tone that makes the both of you laugh.
“Sometimes I wonder how serious and unserious you can be at times (Y/N)” you mother says while calming down.
“You should visit him more often (Y/N).”
Walking back towards your room, leaving the forgotten tea you had make earlier and walking towards your bedroom window to open and let fresh mourning air in you hum in response, “I’ll try my best mom.”
“I forgave your father a long time ago (Y/N), I hope you can as well someday.” Looking over at your clock,
9:35am
“Thank you mom, for everything.” You knew your smile could be felt on the other end for your mother, “I love you so much (Y/N) I’ll try my best to visit you soon, try to have a productive day today!”
After ending the call with your mom, you promised her you would. Starting with making your bed.
-
11:40am
Locking your apartment door behind you and putting your keys in your bag you walked down towards the entrance of your apartment building.
The sunny weather felt like a warm blanket as you walk down the street while soft breezes pass you. You don’t live far from the city’s downtown where all the restaurants, shops and livelihood are.
After the phone call with your mother you had a moment thinking of what she had told you.
I forgave your father a long time ago
The feeling of guilt almost entirely overcame you until you had promised your mother you’d have a productive day.
And you knew deep down inside your father wouldn’t want you rotting away in bed and be a lazy person ignoring their problems.
With almost nothing to do on your day off you decided to visit your fathers grave while the weather is still warm.
You almost never visit your fathers grave, and if you do it always been less than shamelessly 15 minutes.
Shaking away your thoughts as you come closer to the flower shop, the smell of freshly baked goods seem to get closer. Looking past the flower shop, you see an entrance to what seemed to be a small tucked away bakery. You hadn’t noticed until now that there was such a place.
Granted when you stop by the flower shop it was always a swift stop as you tend to always wish to get visiting his grave over as quickly as possible.
Looking down at the time,
12:02pm
It was still early in the day, plus being eager to get about your day you forgot to bring a water bottle with you, you couldn’t see why not stopping for a quick refreshment at the bakery.
-
Walking inside, you were immediately greeted by the smell of the warm sweet treats and the friendly atmosphere. Not too busy but just a little tight for your liking.
Perhaps next time I can plan to take some baked goods with me to the gravesite
Walking up to the counter you order a cup of lemonade and requested a small cup of water to accompany.
Deciding to enjoy and bask in the smell of the bakery you sat down in the nearest small table in front of the window, sipping on your refreshments as well as just looking out the bakery’s window watching as life goes by.
The bakery’s peace was at a mellow stance until your thoughts were interrupted by the doors bell ding, and steady footsteps being heard ushering towards the front.
You looked over to see a tall frame in a dark mocha colored suit sort of frantically trying to get his order in as fast as possible.
Not wanting to seem so curious you look back towards the window, unbeknownst in looking at the man’s reflection.
Tall, blond, fit, nice looking suit. He must be a businessman.
As the man turns around to wait for his order to be ready at the other end of the counter, he slightly leaned back checking his watch in haste, sighed in what seemed of exhaustion, quickly looked up while still waiting
His eyes met yours in the reflection of the window.
Caught, you felt your ears get hot and you looked away from the reflection of his eyes. Looking down, anywhere but back at his.
Trying to smoothly drink quickly the remainder of your beverages left, you got up and quickly thanked the staff before heading out.
As you walked past the window you were looking out of just now you tried your best to not look back in again to see if the tall man was still there. Filled with blush and embarrassment you quickly opened the door to the flower shop.
-
“Yes those are beautiful, I’ll take just a small bouquet of those daisies please.” Smiling at the older lady, and as she starts to make her way towards the back to prepare the bouquet your steps head towards the display of all the other flowers the shop had displayed.
Nothing it was just yourself in the shop you noticed how quiet it was inside, the faint sounds of the scissors being put to work in trimming your bouquet.
Deep in thought of the beautiful colors the flowers came in you hadn’t notice that another person walked into the shop.
“Tiger flowers, vibrant as can be around this time around,” the soft voice of a man says behind you.
Taken out of your thoughts, you look up quickly seeing the reflection of the green tinted windows of the flower shop you see the man from the bakery behind you.
Swiftly turning around to meet the man’s eyes you could feel your whole face feel hot, unsure to smile or apologize for earlier at the bakery.
Looking at him closer, you note his features. His strong facial expressions, his circler metal glasses, and his lips.
Does this man have a permanent frown? He’d be totally more inviting if he didn’t..
Pushing your thoughts away you smiled at the man, agreeing with him.
“Yeah, the vibrant colors are beautiful.” You responded, not sure on how this conversation would go.
Before more words can be said the flower shop employee had just finished your bouquet of flowers you requested.
“Miss (L/N), I got your bouquet all nice and ready!”
In the beginning of the your fathers passing, you had frequent here at the flower shop, and you explained as to why you were buying flowers in the first place to the elderly worker. She didn’t pry but she had vaguely mentioned how certain flowers have different meanings. You can recall how generous she was and how she took care into making your bouquets.
Looking back at the counter you smiled back at her and headed towards her, ready to make your purchase. Not before giving one last smile towards the man.
As you pull out your wallet, you hear the lady greet the man.
“Oh Kento! It is nice to see you again! How are you? Looking at different flowers today? I can assure you those Tiger Flowers can last up to two weeks!”
The man’s footsteps can be heard walking towards the both of you.
“Thank you Mrs. Ua, but I intend to buy white roses this time.” The man now standing next to you stands tall and firm, so tall he’s looking down at the elderly lady.
“Oh well Kento, I’ll just have to keep hoping both of your two’s healing journey will show you how other flowers can look just as lovely placed onto headstones!”
Slightly shocked at her response, you looked up at the man
So he’s visiting someone too? I figured he was probably coming in to buy his significant other flowers
“I’m sure soon enough we can Mrs. Ua,” Kento responded whilst looking down at your bouquet that was placed gently on the counter, “Mrs. Ua, actually I’ll go ahead and change the white roses to daisies as well. And you can go ahead and allow me to pay for this woman’s bouquet as well.”
How many times am I going to keep being heating up because of this man?
Trying to calm yourself down, you quickly object.
“Oh! Oh no, please it’s totally fine! You don’t have to!”Blushing furiously now the man looks down at you, slightly smiling.
“Please, allow me to. It would certainly brighten up my day.”
An excited coo can be heard from Mrs. Ua
-
Had you ever think that you’d be walking now alongside a man you had just met less than 30 minutes ago. No.
Whilst Mrs. Ua was preparing his bouquet small talk had to ensue. If it hadn’t been for the man you had learned name was Kento, he was the first to start.
“Are you headed to visit a love one as well?” He asked you while leaning on the flower shops counter this time, whilst you still faced towards the back. Once again the faint hearing the faint scissors at work.
“Yes, I am. I am planning to visit my late father today,” your heard turns toward the man, slight tilting your head up to look at him, “are you doing the same?”
The blonde man looks down at you quickly before looking away again, facing the shops display of flowers.
“Yes I am, except I plan to visit my friend.” Smiling at him, “as sad as the circumstances may be, it’s nice to meet you-,” before you could say his name, he then finally introduced himself.
“Kento Nanami.” He looked down at you once again.
“(L/N) (Y/N),” you smiled at him, “it’s nice to meet you Kento Nanami,” with a beaming smile.
I honestly have no idea where this is going. I started at 1 am, I’m pausing at almost 4 am. Please forgive me!! Also this blog is so old. I am no longer 19 anymore but 21. I hope to get back into writing.
I would love to hear feedback and suggestions to continue this little plot!
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saturdaykru · 2 days
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jealous meeting - B. Blake x reader
﹒✚﹒ masterlist ` , request﹒✚﹒
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thought of this song while writing
Bellamy Blake x reader - Arkadia
Bellamy calls a group meeting to decide certain defense plans and catch up with everyone, but his jealousy gets the best of him.
cw: smut, p in v, jealousy, nsfw, degrading, praise
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Walking into the main room where we kept the rovers I saw chairs near an open rover, my friends sitting in all of them.
Everyone had a smile on their face. Everyone being, Clarke, Bellamy, Monty, Jasper, Harper, and Miller. It was nice when we got to just sit and catch up with each other, not worry about grounders and Polis, even If it was for a mere hour.
Walking up to the group I was met with greetings and questions. I took a seat in the back of the open rover, my legs sticking out as my hands found their place on the edge of the floor.
"You missed Bellamys 'defense' plans," Miller spoke to me with a laugh, doing air quotes. earning a scoff from Bellamy.
"What am I ever gonna do now?" I reply, joining Miller's laughter.
"You should've heard it! Stupidest thing-" Jasper soon got cut off by Bellamy's stern voice.
"Where were you," Bellamy asked, eyeing me up and down, not that I noticed.
My laughter died down, same with Millers at Bellamy's tone. A thick silence now surrounded the group.
I furrowed my eyebrows, "I was just hanging with Kyle and lost track of time." I finished with a shrug.
I didn't understand why discussing defense plans we never would use was so important to him, Monty could've just relayed the plan to me afterward. Me and Bellay had been friends for a while, even on the Ark, he would come and visit me on visitation days while I was in the cell.
Bellamy scoffed and placed his hands on his hips- something he often did when he was frustrated. "These are important meetings, don't miss them for some guy." Bellamy's eyes were still focused on my outfit. I was wearing a pair of short shorts and a T-shirt that hugged me in all the right places.
Everyone started to shift uncomfortably in their seats, their smiles now long gone.
"It's okay Bellamy, well just tell her the plan after, for what it's worth I thought it was a good idea." Clarke chirped up from next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder which he quickly shrugged off.
Here comes Clarke, sucking up for Bellamy. It was something she had always done. Wherever Bellamy was, she was right there next to him, it got on my nerves most of the time, how close they would always be.
I rolled my eyes at Clarke's sentence, crossing my arms on my chest; only helping to push my tits up more. Which Bellamy took full note of.
"Hey, Monty we have that, uh, thing remember?" Jasper spoke to Monty.
"Oh, yeah, right, we should get going."
"Me too." Harper butted in
The three quickly stood up and exited the room, clearly trying to get away from the awkward, thick tension.
"I should get going too, the wall isn't gonna watch itself." Miller joked, chuckling awkwardly.
"Let me go with-" Bellamy cut me off.
"I need to talk with you," He started, "Alone," he finished, looking at Miller and Clarke. A sign they should leave.
Clarke pursed her lips before nodding and joining Miller before leaving, closing the airlock door.
I felt my heartbeat quicken, it was just me and Bellamy now. Alone.
A few moments had passed of him just staring me down, studying my every move as I shifted in my position, my legs now crossed along with my arms.
I cleared my throat, "What did you need?" I asked with a stutter, my nerves were through the roof.
They always were when I was alone with him. He always had such a strong effect on me, his good looks, his strong body. Bellamy was the one I thought of late at night.
"What were you doing with Kyle?" Bellamy asked, walking closer to me, making me look up at him from where I was sitting.
I rolled my eyes and scoffed, was he really jealous?
"He was showing me a blueprint for a new scope he was making. Why? You jealous?" I teasingly spoke.
My teasing seemed to fuel his anger more.
"In that outfit? Yeah, right." Bellamy laughed, crossing his arms
My brows creased, "What's wrong with my outfit?" I looked down at it, examining it myself. The shorts were a bit short, but it's not like anyone would be looking.
"You're always walking around in those skimpy outfits, Kyle was probably eye fucking you." Bellamy was so close I could smell him, a smell I've come to love, a smell I've dreamed of for years.
"I don't say anything when Clarke is practically on top of you," I admitted, who was he to tell me I wear skimpy outfits, I didn't even know he looked at me like that, though his words were harsh it sent a wave of warmth down my body.
Bellamy smiled, this was amusing to him. "You think I want Clarke?"
I rolled my eyes, making him grab my face, bringing me closer to his. "Don't roll your eyes at me, princess." Bellamy let me go harshly, if I was wet before I'm pooling now. I simply nodded my head, too starstruck to form a sentence, he chuckled in reply.
"Undress. Now." Bellamy demanded. I didn't even need to think about it, the moment he said those words it was done, my clothes found their way onto the floor, I had picked the wrong day to go without wearing panties.
Being the only one undressed I felt vulnerable, I looked back up at him and he knew what I wanted to say before I even had to say it.
"You wanna dress like a slut, you're gonna act like one too. Get in the fucking rover."
His words had me soaked, I was sure it was leaking down my leg.
I crawled into the back of the vehicle, laying down and using my arms to lift myself up a bit. The air was hot and full of lust, practically choking me. Bellamy crawled in right after me, he moved my legs and placed them on the sides of his hips.
Were we really gonna go through with this?
He was quick to unbuckle his belt and reveal his cock, I wasn't sure I could take all of him.
"Gonna show you who you belong to, you didn't even wear panties, you're such a slut." Bellamy breathed out, grabbing onto my hips and pulling me closer, I felt his tip rub up and down my pussy, earning a moan from me when it rubbed against my clit.
Bellamy smirked and thrusted into me. I moaned at the sudden feeling of being full, I felt my walls stretch around his cock. The pain was soon replaced with pleasure as his thumb traced circles around my clit.
"Gonna make you feel so good, slut, only I'm gonna make you feel this good."
His thrusts started off slow, a torturing pace. But it was enough to get my legs shaking, combined with his words and his thumb on my clit I was already cumming with a loud moan.
"Fuuuck, you sound so pretty cumming on my dick, princess, just like that."
Bellamy began thrusting harder, continuously hitting my sweet spot over and over again, forcing my back to arch. It all just felt too good.
His free hand came up and shoved my bra down, he made quick work of toying with my breasts. His groans became breathier, his grunts of pleasure enhancing my experience.
"Who do you belong to? Say it." With every word he spoke, he pulled out and slammed right back into me, forcing a pleasure-filled scream out of me, one part of me hoped nobody heard, and the other hoped everyone knew who was fucking me.
I already felt like I was gonna cum again, both his hands found their way to my hips, holding me down roughly.
When I couldn't reply he stopped all movements, leaving me whining and whimpering, I needed his cock, I craved it.
"Say it, or I swear to god I will drag you out of this rover and fuck you in front of everybody." I had no choice but to speak, not because I was scared of people seeing but because I needed him to keep fucking me, I needed to be used by him.
"I belong to you Bell, now please keep fucking me, please," I pleaded, my eyes fogging over with lust, all I could think about was him and his cock.
Bellamy smirked, satisfied with my answer, he began fucking me harder and faster than before. Chasing his own high. I was sure his grip on my hips would leave bruises, but I was glad, I wanted to remember this moment forever.
Wet loud sounds filled the vehicle, our moans intertwining as the sound of skin slapping against skin filled my ears. His cock filled my pussy so well, I knew nobody would ever fuck me this good again, I was all his.
My pussy clenched around his cock and I felt him twitch inside of me, he liked that.
"Keep doing that, be good for me princess."
I obeyed him and kept clenching, my legs now wrapped around his hips, needing him deeper inside me.
"So close, so close," He let out between moans, his thrusts now becoming sloppier. "Fuuck,"
I felt his warm cum fill my pussy, his thrust came to a slow gentle pace, still fucking his cum into me.
After catching his breath he pulled out, now leaving me feeling empty without him.
Just as he was about to say something the door behind him opened, revealing Kyle. A shocked, jaw-dropped Kyle. Bellamy quickly moved in front of me as Kyle took in the sight. Once he realized the situation he slammed the door.
My face was flushed red but Bellamy found the situation hilarious.
"I never want this to end," I admit, looking into his eyes.
"Then it won't, princess."
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raaorqtpbpdy · 2 days
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Much to Learn
Maddie has Phantom cornered. He's not getting away from her this time.
{Irma} Maddie overhears something she shouldn't, and it makes her rethink everything (reveal gone right) [ghost]
Read also on AO3
[Warning for mentions of violence/dissection]
She had him. Maddie had that spook cornered, and there was no way he could escape, at least not without being seen. Jack was covering the other exit, but she knew she had him. Phantom was hers. 
"That was too close," she heard Phantom's voice around the corner.
He had no idea, she thought, raising her ecto-gun, ready to take him down.
"No kidding," a girl's voice replied.
Maddie froze. Was he talking to someone? Her voice sounded kind of familiar. Was she in danger.
"My parents almost had me that time," Phantom replied. "Thank the Ancients I gave them the slip, or it would have been hello scalpel."
"You got Klemper, right?" a boy's voice asked.
So Phantom had two captives... or... perhaps allies, the way they were talking. But what had he meant about his parents? Were they still alive?
"Asked him for his best soup impression," Phantom replied with a chuckle. "You know, I don't actually mind if they want to have fun and goof off, and it's great for them that they don't have to worry about consequences in the Ghost Zone, I just wish they could wrap their heads around the fact that here in the real world, people can still get badly hurt. Like, some of us are mortal, buddy."
"And Klemper plays pretty rough, so it's no wonder he doesn't have any friends," the girl replied.
"Yeah, no kidding," the other boy's voice agreed.
They didn't sound like captives, Maddie determined. They definitely didn't sound like ghosts, either.
"Alright, if my parents had followed me, I'm sure they would've burst in guns blazing by now," Phantom said. "I think I'm in the clear."
There was a flash of light and a sort of whirring sound.
The next voice Maddie heard wasn't Phantom's... it was Danny's.
"Guess I'm not gonna get dissected tonight," he said, like it was some kind of big accomplishment. "Good thing, too because I have a huge English assignment due soon that I haven't even started on. I definitely don't have time for my parents to cut me open."
"You sound awful cheery," the girl noted, and suddenly, Maddie could place the voice. It was Danny's friend Sam.
"Well, you know, you gotta celebrate the small victories, right?" Danny replied. "That's what Jazz is always telling me, anyway."
"Morbid victories," scoffed the other boy—Tucker, she finally recognized.
When Maddie had cornered Phantom and his allies, she'd actually... or rather, she'd also cornered Danny and his friends. Because they were the same people.
Her son was Phantom.
Oh, god, what had she done?
"Come on, guys, let's get out of here," Danny said, and Maddie could hear him and his friends walking toward the door where she was lying in wait.
She wanted to run so she could have time to properly process her thoughts and the new information, but she was rooted to the spot, her brain racing at a mile a minute. Danny was a ghost? How? When? God, she had shot at him.
He was coming her way. He was almost to the door. She wanted to run, but she still couldn't move.
He walked through, and jumped when he saw her, back against the wall, ecto-gun still raised and in-hand.
"Mom," he said, sounding mildly alarmed. "Uh... how long have you been standing there?"
"You're Phantom," she said. The words just spilled from her lips, and she was helpless to stop them.
She didn't miss the way Danny's muscles all tensed up at once and he eyed the gun still in her hand.
"What?" he asked.
Her eyes widened and she dropped her ecto-gun to the floor as if it had bitten her. Oh god, he was afraid of her. Her own son was afraid of her. What kind of mother had she been? What had she been doing?
She threw herself at him, and wrapped him up in a hug. "Oh, Danny, I'm so sorry!"
"Uh...." She could feel the hesitation in his movements as he hugged her back, and it brought tears to her eyes. "It's... it's okay, Mom. You didn't know."
"No, I didn't know, but it's not okay," she insisted. "Ignorance is never an excuse. I tried to hurt you!"
"But you didn't," he said. "Mom, I'm fine. It's okay. I forgive you."
"I've been a fool," she said, reluctantly pulling away from the hug so she could look him in the eye and cup the side of his face, gently, like a mother should. "I only heard a minute of conversation, but it's obvious you know about ghost. You probably—no, you definitely know more than I do. Maybe you can fill in some of the gaps in our research."
"If it means you won't have to dissect anybody, I'd be happy to help."
Maddie cringed, but once she got past the barb, it sounded nice. A little mother-son scientific research and bonding was just what she needed to get to know her son again. He'd been so distant lately, and now... well, now she knew why. And now that she knew, she could start to pull him closer again, learn the kind of man he was growing into when he wasn't too busy avoiding her.
"That sounds wonderful, Danny," she said. "I'm sure I have so much to learn."
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i-bring-crack · 8 months
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geltears · 3 months
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3's a crowd
(dad) Nanami Kento x Reader
Nanami works hard to give his daughter another sibling cw: shameless smut, dad!Nanami, fem!reader, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, breeding, fingering, spit kink, pure filth, dirty-talk -> prequel of heart throb
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Nanami's heart pounds in his chest as he walks back to your shared bedroom. Your daughter's words have left his mind reeling, heart thrashing like a bird in a cage as her words replay on a loop.
"All my friends have siblings, I wanna be a big sister too."
Namiko was young, clueless and entirely oblivious to the true extent of what she had just asked of him. She was a cute baby,— she is an adorable child—and he honestly wouldn't mind another. He doesn't realise where his feet have taken him until he bounces his toe on the foot of your bed, groaning in pain soon after.
When you look up from your book, your eyebrows are scrunched in worry as you reach for your husband's arm. Like a pre-mature teenage boy, his cock twitches in his pants at the mere feel of your skin on his.
"Nami? Everything alright?"
"Mhm," he hums, "There's just something we need to talk about."
Nanami's breath becomes more rapid as he moves closer to you on the bed and his tongue seems to have a mind of it's own, desperate to speak to you, "Namiko wants a sibling."
His words are punctuated by the rough pads of his fingers rubbing loving circles into your clit through your thin panties as he tries to get you in the mood and it suddenly becomes all too clear what his intentions are--
He plans to give her the sibling she so desperately wants.
Your husband is large as he crawls on top of you, his big burly shoulders easily overshadow your frame and it makes your pussy twitch in anticipation. Your heart is thumping savagely in your chest with the rapid rise and fall of your tits— if Nanami was a bit sicker he would've slipped them into his big palms: one tit per hand and he would fondle and tease your sensitive nipples until you were leaking through your panties against his knee.
But Nanami is impatient, eager to bury every inch of his throbbing cock in your tight heat and ruin you until he was sure there was another little blonde baby in your belly.
He leans down to capture your lips in a sloppy and mushy kiss, "Hmm. Another baby wouldn't be so bad, right?" he breathes against your lips.
You've been married for years but you feel filthy with the way he's speaking to you, string of spit still connecting your lips and glistening in your dimly lit room.
"We make cute babies," you agree, in the way that a woman does when her husband plucks the stars out of the sky for her, "Make me a mommy again, Ken."
He shivers at your tone, feeling very much like a virgin again- Had his wife always been this coy? Or were the hearts in your eyes just extra big tonight?
You whimper at the feel of his ring and middle fingers easing into you, cold metal of his wedding ring pressing snuggly against your pussy. Nanami bends down to get an eye-level view of your pussy, hot breath fanning against your slick folds as he regards, "I love you and your sloppy cunt."
He keeps his fingers nestled against that squishy spot that makes your toes curl and digs them in to rub deliciously at your sweet spot and spits a fat glob of spit onto your clit.
"Hngg right there Ken."
And then he's sucking your throbbing clit into his mouth, tongue swirling as he steadily thrusts his fingers in and out of you until your thighs are shaking around his head. He eats your pussy through your orgasm, loving gaze drinking in your blissful expression as his tongue teases your hole to taste your cum.
"Nami kiss me," you're practically begging, flimsy arms outstretched to take him into your embrace.
You suck his tongue into your mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue in a way so lewd that both your faces flush bright red. His gaze is filled with nothing but love and lust— you think you could get pregnant just from the way he's ogling you.
"Nami- Nami put it in," you gasp, small hands fumbling with his belt as you try to get to his cock, "Please, Ken."
Nanami swats your hand away sternly.
"Lie back," he says and you obey gingerly. "Now show me your cunt."
When he thinks you're taking too long, he reaches down himself and spreads your legs to reveal your glistening cunt to the cold air. Your hole twitches under his stare, clenching around nothing as you desperately wait for him to fuck you.
Nanami is in love with you, he has been since senior year and he'll stay in love with you even after you're both dead. He'd do anything for you so he's determine to give you another baby.
It'll have your eyes— just like your little girl— he thinks and presses the leaking tip of his cock into you. "Oh god- Kento, you're so fucking big," you squeal, "I can't take it- Nonono."
He shushes you softly with a kiss, one that instantly makes you loosen up a bit and lets him push another inch into you. "I know," he whispers against your skin, "How're you gonna give me a baby if you won't even let me in?"
Desperate to please your husband, you cunt seems to welcome him gracefully, making wet sounds as he bottoms out. His moan as his balls press against your ass is sinful, making you groan all the same.
You squeeze your eyes shut, heat pooling in your belly as he twitches inside you. He's so big and thick and you love him and his fat cock. When you start to hump yourself against his cock, he squeezes your hip roughly and draws his hips back until just the tip is still nestled inside your cunt.
Your slick bubbles out of your hole around his tip and squelches when his hips slam back into you. "Pussy's fucking soaked- she's begging me for a baby." You whine in response, pretty manicured nails raking down his back in an attempt to keep him deep inside of you.
The tip of his cock bumps deliciously against your cervix and tears dribble from the corners of your eyes. He feels so fucking good- this is what it's like to have sex to make a baby. A baby born of love.
"Yesyesyes, cum in me Nami," you babble, mind lost with pleasure, "Gimme your cum- put a baby in me."
His pace is rabid now, hips shaking like a dog as he fucks into you wildly. His balls smack against your ass and your pussy squeezes him like a vice, working to milk him for all he's worth— for your precious baby. And he'll give it to you- he'll fill you up and keep your pussy stuffed of him until you're both satisfied.
"Tell me you want my baby- tell me you want me," he rasps. His hand snakes between your sweaty bodies to fiddle with your clit. He flicks it softly and rolls your wet nub between his fingers, pushing you closer to the edge.
"C'mon say it and I'll make you cum all over my cock."
"I want your baby, Nami! I only want you," your words slur as he cuts you off with a sweet kiss.
He meshes his tongue with yours and fucks your throat with his tongue as his cock plunges roughly into you. He makes you pussy sore and your heart ache as your entire body shakes and convulses in a series of bursts. And your pussy becomes so impossibly tight that he's got no choice but to slot his hips against yours and buck strangely into you as he cums.
He cums in hot, thick spurts and he makes sure to press his tip right up against the depths of your cunt so it all rests nicely in your belly.
.
.
Ao3
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hypnos333 · 3 months
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Left her behind
Lucifer x Angel Wife Reader
Synopsis: Lucifer left you behind to rule hell and have lilith so you were behind cleaning up your broken piece
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Your wings were bigger than your body but your heart was bigger than your wings. You were an archangel helping your god important plans for mankind. Your husband Lucifer was a Seraphim and you always wonder how you two ever gotten married.
An Archangel and a Seraphim what an unexpected pair, isn’t it?
As you were talking to a human Adam about what god had told you to tell him. A bad feeling was upon you as you excused yourself to go back to heaven to find your husband.
An hour had gone by and you still couldn’t find him til you saw Lilith and you husband kissing. You were shocked and upset until god touched your shoulder ushering back into heaven saying he’ll handle it. Of course you couldn’t question someone you absolutely trust so you flew up with tears hurriedly to go find Gabriel and Michael.
That’s when you found out your husband has been banished with everyone else who betrayed God and heaven.
They were sent to hell as Lucifer as the leader of it and Lilith as queen. You sobbed so loudly make Gabriel hushed you quietly as he sway you left and right to get you to calm yourself.
Michael came back in with some ice cream with a sad smile. “Let forget about your ex husband my little Beauty” And you agreed. That was centuries ago and during that time you found out Lucifer had a daughter which made you completely forget about him focusing about your home more importantly.
Today was your birthday and you had to go to a meeting about the extermination in hell.
Back in hell after getting a meeting to heaven he told his daughter an important story.
“Over a century ago there was these two angels one in a lower class and another in a higher class they loved each nonetheless. Married in heaven but soon the married man became regrettably enchanted with a human bringing her with him to his chaos but leaving his heart where heaven was at” Lucifer explained
“Y-You left your real wife, dad?” She asked him shock and sadness looking at the sky.
“Sadly so, she was supposed to be your mom” He chuckled as tears slipped out his eyes. The amount of times he goes over to see you but you never reciprocate breaks his heart.
He still wears his gold wedding ring from the day he married you and he can never forget that day.
“Don’t worry charlie i’ll win her back no matter the cost and I’ll bring her here to hell for her to rule with me” He reassured her with determination. They both look up to the sky to see a rare white star down at hell.
Alternative ending
Regular ending
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luv4freddie · 4 months
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Fools - T.N
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in which the only Hufflepuff friend in the group of slytherins develops a crush on Theodore Nott— something only fools do.
fem!hufflepuff reader, bff Pansy, use of euphemisms and teasing yn for being innocent but sfw, reader is very emotional, jealous theo, 2800 words
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"Y/n!!"
After a year, you'd think that people would get used to seeing the same Hufflepuff go over to the Slytherin table, but alas, half the Great Hall turned to watch you approach the table and take a seat next to Pansy.
She sticks her middle finger up behind your back, aiming it at all of the people who are still staring, and they quickly turn away. It was an unlikely friendship, but she was not going to let anyone make you feel bad about it.
"About time you get here," Draco huffs, "I've had to hear Pansy's 'girl talk' while you were sleeping."
You smile sheepishly at him, you had taken your sweet time this morning, hitting snooze a few times before listening to your favorite record and doing more singing than actually getting ready— resulting in you being extra late to breakfast.
"Sorry, Draco."
"Don't apologize yn, he doesn't deserve it."
You can hear the teasing lilt in Theo's voice from across the table, and Draco throws a handful of grapes at him.
"Whatever," Pansy turns her back to them, "did you hear, apparently the Hufflepuff chaser has a crush on you."
Your eyes flit between her face and your hands, and you wonder where she got her information from.
The boys around you seem to perk up at this, and Draco chides Pansy for deeming that piece of information unimportant compared to all her other, much more useless, girl talk this morning.
"Where on Earth did you hear that?" You cut in, not enjoying the way everyone is suddenly interested in your (nonexistent) love life.
"From a very trustworthy source," is all she'll give away, and you cringe.
"Can we change subjects, please?"
Theo narrows his eyes at you, as if he's searching your face for something.
"You don't care about it then? You're not jumping at the chance to ride his broom?"
The Slytherins around you snicker at his euphemism, but you go bright red.
"I- what! Why would you say- no!"
This only makes them laugh harder, but Pansy collects herself enough to place a reassuring hand on your arm.
"Don't worry, we all know our little puff would never."
You slap her hand away, upset at them treating you like a child.
"Well if you guys are only gonna tease me, I'm gonna go back to my own table."
"Y/n, we didn't mean-" Theo starts, but he's still got a smirk on his face, so you ignore him, leaving before he can try and stop you.
You take a seat at your own house table, and the Hufflepuffs around you immediately welcome you into their conversation.
You don't know why it bothered you so much. They were right, you weren't going to be "riding someone's broom" anytime soon, but hearing the way they talked about it— like you were just some silly, innocent baby— really bugged you.
If you were being honest with yourself, you also knew that deep down you've been repressing feelings for Theodore, because you knew enough stories about him to know it would never work. He was a heartthrob, and had no issue finding girls to entertain him at night— to him you were just a little girl. That conversation was just more proof. There's no way he'd be interested in you.
You unintentionally make eye contact with Zacharias Smith when you finally get out of your head, but you immediately look away, turning back to your friends just as Hannah asks about your Christmas plans.
You don't see your Slytherin friends again until Charms class, and Pansy immediately brings up what happened at breakfast.
"Hey, I'm sorry about that. I don't want you to feel bad, that's just how we are."
You give her a tight lipped smile, shrugging your shoulders. You've realized that most of the anger came from the realization that Theo probably saw you as a child, not actually their teasing.
"No biggie, it's forgiven."
She eyes you suspiciously but decides not to question it, instead starting to talk about her next party idea until she gets shushed when Professor Flitwick starts explaining directions.
You use the quiet moment to sneak a look at Theo, who's leaned back in his chair smirking at something Draco said next to him.
Pansy turns to you and you quickly shift your focus, but it appears she's already seen you. She gives you a raised eyebrow, and you play dumb, looking back at the teapot on your desk and trying to give it legs.
"What was that about back there?" Pansy asks as the two of you walk out together.
"I know it took me forever to get those stupid legs," you cringe, hoping to throw her off course.
"No I meant your staring."
You try not to look guilty, just shrugging your shoulders and explaining, "figured the boys might have figured it out faster. Should have known better."
She grins at that, muttering "you really should have." But something tells you she doesn't quite believe your story.
Your thoughts are only confirmed the next day when she invites you over to her dorm and then immediately suggests the two of you take veritaserum to play a game of truth or dare.
You let out a sigh.
"I'm not doing that Pans, just ask me whatever you want to know."
She grins, "you know me so well."
"Unfortunately," you tease, and she slaps your arm but asks her question anyway.
"Do you have a crush on Draco?"
Her face drops into confusion when you start laughing hysterically.
"That's what you thought? Merlin, you had me scared for no reason. No Pans, I absolutely do not have a crush on Draco."
She lets out a small sigh of relief, but you can tell she's a little peeved you laughed at her.
"Well what was I supposed to think? You got all grumpy yesterday when we were teasing you about your love life, and then the staring. It was either that or you're secretly in love with Nott, which, lets be for real."
She leaves it at that, but your cheeks flush pink. Be for real what? Be for real, he'd never want you? Be for real, what universe would the two of you work out? Be for real, he hates you?
The thoughts keep coming one after another, and suddenly your vision is blurred.
"Hey, woah, what's wrong?"
You cursed Pansy for being so observant.
"Nothing, I think my allergies are acting up." You say, but there's sadness in your voice, and there's an inch of snow outside, which isn't exactly pollen friendly.
"Don't lie to me y/n."
"I'm sorry for being so stupid and emotional." You cry, and Pansy rubs your back slowly.
"Hey, there's nothing wrong with being emotional! You don't see us do it much, but a lot of that's got to do with how we were raised. I wish I felt things as deeply as you do."
Your tears seem to slow, and she smiles.
"Now as for stupid, that depends on where that fit came from."
You look up at her in embarrassment, more hot tears threatening to fill your eyes.
"I... what did you mean?" You ask instead.
"Huh?"
"When you said be for real about me secretly being.." you couldn't bring yourself to say it, as if saying the words would make it true and something you could no longer push away and pretend wasn't there.
Realization dawns on Pansy's face, and she immediately wraps you up in a hug.
"Oh yn, it all makes sense now."
You continue to cry, and she looks at you with what you assume is pity in her eyes.
"I know, I'm such a fool! I know it would never happen, I know half of Hogwarts has a crush on him, I know he'd never want a girl like me." All of the things you'd been keeping to yourself and secretly thinking come spilling out of your mouth, and Pansy rubs your back while you continue to cry.
"Hey don't talk like that! Theo doesn't care about those people, and I know he cares about you. Not to mention, "a girl like you"? You're the exact type of girl that Theo needs. He practically never smiles the way he does when you're around. Just calm down okay?"
You nod through your cries, finally settling down as Pansy throws a magazine at you and the two of you lay across her bed.
Unknowingly, you end up falling asleep, tired from the amount of crying you did. Pansy notices but decides not to wake you, heading down to the common room where the guys would be getting back from quidditch practice soon.
When you wake up the room is dark, and a quick looks around reminds you you're in Pansy's room and not your own. You check the bathroom attached to the dorm, and when no one is in there you head down to the common room, assuming that's where she's gone to.
The whole group is sat on leather couches and armchairs when you make it down the stairs, and you rub the sleep out of your eyes as you approach the group.
"There's our assonnata bella," Theodore purrs, and you immediately flush even though you only understand half of his phrase. (sleeping beauty)
"Sorry for falling asleep." You apologize as you take the seat Pansy offered you, coincidentally landing between her and the reason for your crying.
"Stop apologizing so much," Theo whispers in your ear, and you refuse to look at him in fear of him seeing exactly the effect he has on you. Instead you continue to look at Pansy.
"No biggie, you needed it after that." She says, and you nod.
"After what? What happened?" Draco asked, ever the nosy weasel.
Pansy looked at you, obviously waiting for you to answer so she could go along with whatever you say.
You consider lying, but figure there's no point. They all know you're an emotional person, no one would find it unusual.
"I- uh- cried a little bit. Tired me out."
The boys (that you can see) all nod their heads in understanding and decide to switch topics, finally letting you relax.
However, since you'd turned your back to Theo, that now meant when you leaned back to get comfy you leaned directly into his chest, as he had one arm on the back of the couch behind you.
"Oh I'm so sorry!" You whisper, shooting back up and speaking only to him in an attempt to not draw attention from the others.
"Don't be silly," he says back, pulling your shoulders so you're back in the relaxed position against him, "you're welcome in my arms any day ragazza dolce." (Sweet girl)
You flush red again, but this time you do look up at him, a teasing glint in your eyes.
"You know I have absolutely no idea what you're saying, right?"
He grins, "that's part of the fun."
"Whatever," you turn back away from him to look at the group, your head resting right over his heart, "as long as you're not calling me a troll."
"I promise I'm not." He says, ruffling your hair before the both of you rejoin the main conversation.
"Zacharias Smith was at our practice today," Draco tells Pansy, and she looks at him in surprise.
"Really? Maybe he was looking for yn. She does sometimes keep me company in the stands."
"Oh he definitely was." Blaise smirks, and you feel Theo tense behind you. "Walked right up to Theo and asked where the pretty little one we're always hanging out with was."
"What?" Pansy shrieks, looking over, although you're unsure if the intentional target was you or the boy behind you. Her eyes momentarily widen at seeing your position before she notices something and smirks.
"Theo," she drawls, "I didn't notice those cuts on your knuckles earlier, is that new?"
Everyone turns to look at Theo, and you sit up in alarm, turning to look at his hand that's laying behind your spot on the couch.
"Theo! What happened? Why didn't you go get this checked out?"
He averts his eyes from your gaze. "Just wasn't thinking about it," he shrugs.
You frown. "How could you not be thinking about it, that looks painful!"
He shrugs again, grimacing when you grab his hand, insisting he let you heal it.
"Just let me go get my wand okay? I left it in Pansy's room."
You get up to leave, and with your back turned you don't see Pansy whisper to Theo and then him get up and follow you.
"I'll just come with." He announces, following you back to your friends room.
You try not to think about the intimacy of being alone with Theo while you tend to his wounds, trying once again to shove all your feelings down far in your heart.
Thankfully none of Pansy's roommates had come back, and Theo sits on her bed while you grab your wand from her nightstand before standing in between his spread legs.
"Give me your hand."
He complies, and you try not to blush at the warmth of his, much bigger, hand resting on your own.
"This is nasty Theo, did you punch a wall or something?" You ask, beginning to heal a few of the cuts. Luckily most of them were clean from where he'd washed them when he showered after practice, but they were scabbed over and his knuckles were blue with beginning to form bruises.
He lets out an amused huff of laughter and you stop your ministrations, looking up at him immediately.
"Tell me you didn't actually punch a wall."
He shrugs, "it was either that or Smith, and I know you don't like when I get into fights."
You feel yourself heat up. He didn't hit someone because of your preference, and the person just happened to be the guy who supposedly has a crush on you.
"Well I'm glad you didn't send my housemate to the hospital wing at least, although I wish you wouldn't have hurt yourself," you sigh, continuing to heal his hands.
Out of nowhere he pulls it away.
"Theo?"
"Look, I-" he cards a hand through his hair, contemplating his next words. "I didn't like it that Smith came looking for you. Especially that he asked me."
You look at him in confusion, "what? Why?"
He looks distraught, but he can't help the crooked smile that etches itself on his face.
"You're damn oblivious, you know that?"
You continue to look at him, no thoughts behind your eyes.
"Uh, I mean I guess? I've been told that a few times, though I'm not sure how it's pertinent to this situation."
Suddenly Theo's hands are on your cheeks, and his face is inches from your own.
"What- what are you doing?"
"I want to kiss you." He states plainly, as if it's the most normal thing in the world— as if the five words didn't have you spiraling out of control.
"Wait- do you want to kiss me because you think I'm like pretty or do you want to kiss me because you like me?"
You'd never even thought he would consider you pretty, but at his words you had to rethink a lot of things you thought you knew.
"I like you, amorina." (Little love)
"Really?" You know you should be celebrating, but you can't help the doubt that creeps into your mind. "You don't think I'm a silly, innocent, little Hufflepuff?"
He grins, "you can be my silly little Hufflepuff. And no I don't care that you're not jumping at the opportunity to go broom hopping."
You can't help but laugh a his phrasing, but you're glad he knew what you meant.
"I like you, amorina, I don't care about anything else, as long as I get you."
You smile, and Theo swears he could die happy if it's the last thing he sees.
"Well in that case, I want you to kiss me too."
He can barely hold back his own smile as he places his lips on yours, cradling your jaw with one hand while the other holds your hip.
He kissed you gently, not at all like what you'd expected, but you feel his adoration flowing out of it, and you can't help but break it to let out a giggle.
"And to think I was crying over you a few hours ago."
He grins, standing up and grabbing your hand to walk back down to the common room together, where your friends were waiting for you to go to dinner.
"No more crying over me okay?"
You nod your head, and he pulls you in for one more kiss before you rejoin the rest of your friends.
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