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#there's absolutely nothing i can do to change my life right now it's all out of my reach
melbatron5000 · 2 days
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Heartache
Since I put up my theories that Crowley and Aziraphale faked the break up in the Final Fifteen, I've had a LOT of people comment, "Then why are they so sad?"
LISTEN.
Imagine you and the person you love most in the world have to keep your relationship secret. Because no one would approve of it, and one or the other of you could be hurt or killed or imprisoned over it. So you keep it casual, and have to pretend you're not even friends.
Then you get a chance to change everything. You get a chance to save the world, and maybe have that relationship you both want so badly together. You even plan your proposal. You throw a big party and make it as romantic as you know how.
Then your party gets crashed by people who hate you.
And then an authority -- one that has the power to make both your lives horrible and maybe end them -- comes sniffing around. He's figured out you're up to something, and that you've teamed up, and been teamed up for a while. He maybe suspects you're more than friends, when even friends is something you are not allowed to be. He essentially black mails you into coming back with him, to what essentially amounts to prison, though he offers that your love can come with you. You'll both be in prison, and maybe not be able to save the world, but you'll be together, and safe.
You tell the person you love most in the world what's going on, that your plan has been uncovered, and beg him to come with so he will be safe. And your beloved says, "No, I'm not going, I want to fight for this. I want to fight for you, and for us. I want to save the world. We need to pretend to break up so I can keep working on our plan. You do what you can from inside prison, and I'll do my best from here, and let's try for this. For us." And then he breaks your heart and forces you to reject him. While your enemy watches and waits to take you to prison. And he doesn't let you leave without kissing you first. He gives you something while he kisses you that he hopes will help you. And then he goes.
Imagine your beloved tells you an authority has come sniffing around -- he suspects you're up to something and wants to haul you both to prison. Your beloved has no choice, he absolutely is going to prison, right now, but he wants you to come with him. You want to fight, you want to be free with your beloved and you want to save the world. So you tell him you have to fake a break up in order that one of you can stay free and hopefully make it work. And then you break his heart, and force him to reject you, while your enemy watches and waits to take him to prison. And you do not let him leave without kissing him first. You give him something while you kiss him that you hope will help him. And then you leave.
If you could do that while feeling nothing, totally confident that you're still a couple and everything is actually fine, you've got a different head than me. I wouldn't be okay, watching my husband get taken to prison for the crime of being in love with me. I certainly wouldn't be okay pretending not to care, or like we never meant much to each other after all.
The break up is fake. That doesn't mean any of those emotions are.
It actually makes it worse, in my opinion.
If Aziraphale had actually chosen Heaven over Crowley, Aziraphale would be sad, but not miserable. But he hasn't. He's going to prison without the one person he most wants to protect and be with. And he has no guarantee that Crowley will be safe, or that they will ever see each other again. He must be devastated.
If Aziraphale had chosen Heaven over Crowley, Crowley would have every right to be hurt and angry. But Aziraphale hasn't. He's being dragged to prison, where Crowley can't be with him and make sure he's okay, where Crowley knows he'll be treated badly, and Crowley's going to try to save the world, and if he succeeds, they can build that life together they've wanted for so long; but if he fails, they may never see each other again. He must be devastated.
Stop asking why they both look so sad if the break up is fake.
They are devastated.
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martsonmars · 1 year
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desperately trying not to have a panic attack about university hehehe
#literally the only thing i'm supposed to do is study#am i doing it? nope of course. i have less than a month left to take exams and i should take at least 2 but i haven't opened a book in more#than a month and the thought fills me with dread and i literally physically cannot do it#it's possible that going back to my uni flat would help (it would be a change in scenery for sure) but on wednesday it will be a year since#my father died and there's this fucking church thing and my mother won't force me to stay but i really should. shouldn't i?#after all it's already saturday and i've already wasted 40 days. what's half a week more?#i keep staring at the list of exams and i know that if i spent every waking second studying i could get back on track and graduate when i'm#supposed to graduate but 1. it's not healthy and 2. my brain refuses to study for ONE exam let alone 14 so it's unrealistic#and at this point i should just accept that i'm going to graduate one year late and one year after all my friends because last year i did#absolutely nothing. and last autumn started out great. i moved. i was organised. and then the first week of october my mother was at the#hospital and i had to go home for a week and somehow i let that week screw up my entire semester#and now i'm panicking because i have only 18 days before the exam i'm supposed to take and it doesn't feel enough for everything i have to#study but it's not going to get better if i just let all the days pass without doing anything but i can't i can't i can't#so yeah i should be kind to myself and accept i'll need one additional year for all the exams and take it slowly which is the only way to#actually get things done. but i don't want to. i don't want to tell my mother that i failed at the one thing i'm supposed to be doing#but i really really can't it's hard and i'm failing and my head is screaming that i don't deserve hobbies and yet i keep wasting my days#it's one am and i should either sleep or relax because it's not like i can do anything now and yet i feel like i need to fix my entire life#right this second or i'll explode. i'm so tired of my thoughts.#please ignore all this ^ because i know most of it is irrational or whatever and i DON'T WANT to hear rational things#if you've read until here and really want to say something just tell me that right now i'm allowed to relax#any other comment would make me feel worse#💖💖💖#**one month left to take exams this semester not forever hahaha but then i'd be supposed to take all the remaining exams in the summer#and i can't possibly take 14 exams between now and july which is why i'm panicking (there are other logistically confusing things in what i#said but i wanted to clear this one up at least lmao) (i'm already feeling vaguely better can't you see?)
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sherlock-is-ace · 2 years
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frmisnow · 2 months
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✧˖ ?!— THE ASSHOLE THAT MIGHT MAKE YOU FORGIVE & FORGET. - (NSFW.)
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— ‧₊˚ — 🍸: "wanna make you hate being touched by anybody else but me, i'll be so selfish with you ??"
summary. despite your best efforts at avoiding your much-hated hookup boxer, he somehow finds a way to your apartment claiming he's here for your own good benefit, being a total ass- does he even have the ability to change? well, he's determinded to make you forgive & forget... in his own unique ways!
notes. haven't written full blown smut in quite a while aaahhhh also my longest fic up to date??? - this is part two of TWO WHORES IN A ROOM, THEY MIGHT KISS but can be read on it's own.
warnings/includes. (MDNI!!) non idol! jungkook x f! reader, they still kinda hate eachother sry (tiny bit of character development in the middle tho), elements of angst, making out, he's a bit of a dick :/, reader is kind of a therapist (pls don't go around in real life trying to fix ppl!!), tit/nipple play, riding, kook sub tendency towards the end, unprotected sex (she's on the pill tho), not proofread :/
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you starred blankly at the text bubble he sent you a minute ago, hell- it was 2 am- you blinked repeatedly, reading it once more:
unknown number (jeon ) : i'm outside your apartment
you've done your absolute best avoiding him at all costs, you couldn't no- you shouldn't at all, never ever form a connection with him and though you'd usually be okay with having a little fling, you didn't want to be associated with him nor did you want to see his face. it was a hate fuck, nothing more, nothing less - but he always knew just how to ruin your plans.
you looked outside the window, actually sighting a figure, a motorcycle close to them as the person lifted it's head shortly from their phone, you quickly typed in a response.
y/n ( reader ) : how do you know my number, how do you know my adress and what makes you think i'll open the door unknown number (jeon ) : i'm cold
the simplicity of the incoming answer, made you roll your eyes, opening the window instantly after reading yelling out to the person: "i'll call the police for stalking"
he instantly yells back, "you don't actually have any intentions of calling the police. you want to see me" with every word stepping a bit closer to your apartment, now practically being next to your door.
"ha," you let out till full blown starting to laugh, "i wanna see you?" the smile from the laugh still plastered of your face, "you really think so?"
"oh i'm sure of it, what else is there to do on a saturday night? i just know you've been thinking bout my big dick all day, i know it makes you sick- but y'know what? i'm here to fix it for you" he looks up to you while delivering his dialogue in a sarcastic tone like he's the savior of the world, his smirk coming back once more.
you skipped down the stairs, opening the door just a few centimeters, enough to see your face, not enough to completly look into your apartment, answering him back now face to face, giving him a rather unimpressed look: "right, you showed up but somehow u're still blabbering 'bout me wanting you here, but whatever go on- tell me i'm the needy cockslut who wants you right now"
his hands reach out to presumably touch your tits as you make the split of the open door a little smaller so his hands won't fit through while he makes a tiny sound of disapproval in the mean time almost like a 'tsk tsk' until he starts talking again:
"you're standing here in your pjs at 2am opening up your door for no other then me and that says just enough"
you stand there silent for just a few seconds till bouncing back on his answer, "don't get it twisted, i wanted to see what you have to say for yourself-"
his smug little smirk on his face grows bigger as you speak, his words dripping with sarcasm as if you're playing right into his hands "oh so you are interested in what i have to say?"
"very much so but so far you've been talking a lot of shit which doesn't necessarly surprise me either"
jungkooks grin still remains maybe even gets bigger, his voice dripping of sarcasm, "oh c'mon you love anything that has a dick for you to suck on, you're not big on words"
you open the door a bit more further, sighing like you're tired: "well quite frankly i don't feel like having your dick in my mouth"
he runs his hands through his hair, few seconds of silence passing when he finally responds now a little more serious: "are you really gonna act like you didn't enjoy the last time we're together?"
you gulp, for the first time avoiding eye contact: "well not everything revolves around sex"
"ah well isn't that cute, trying to play innocent?" his smile suddenly disappears, his brow furrowing as he gives you a serious look, "look at me. right on the eyes"
you look him in the eyes again, voice getting just a bit louder: "you don't get it, you see any pussy and jump straight onto it then leave which would be fine- but i don't want us to be fuck buddies, i don't want us being awkward at work, i don't want to form an attraction beyond sex to you in any way and i won't even risk it- and you? you don't even think about anything, you just think with your dick"
his eyebrow raises as he lets out a chuckle and rolls his eyes, "yeah, yeah i guess i am quite a shitty guy for not wanting anything more than just to dick you down for all eternity"
you rest your head on the wall next to the door in frustration, making a sound close to a sigh again: "you'll leave me in a week, i'll get attached, you'll make fun of me- i don't want that" surprisingly honest and serious.
he stares at you for few seconds longer, you're not making eye contact anymore, still pressed on the wall your head facing downwards. he sighs and his eyes close as he takes a deep breath as if preparing himself for what he's about to say: "you really think that little of me huh?"
you respond calmly though still avoiding his eyes, admitting in all honesty: "you've given me no reason to think more of you"
and for the first time since you've ever seen him, you see jungkook generally hurt, his eyes not settling as he begins to slowly nod like he understood, taking a step back from the door, "i'll leave you alone"
you watch him take a few steps- but you just can't do this. he was right, for the first time in everything he has said so far- he was right: you wanted him. you didn't know if you wanted him beyond sex but you weren't gonna figure this out right now either so you made the spontanous gut decision, you swiftly walked behind him- grabbing his arm, stopping him.
"you can call me a dumb whore- but i've changed my decision, i don't want you to leave"
you can almost see his brain working your words out one by one till he returns to good old self, voice thick of sarcasm, a sly grin making it's way onto his face once more "oh and why's that?"
"can you shut up?"
it's a messy kiss. desperate, longing, needing - telling. his hands not settling, moving all across your body, squeezing and kneading wherever they can in a matter of time you both stumble back into your apartment, lips not breaking apart not even once even as he closes the front door with his foot, deepening the kiss mean while.
you get pushed back onto the couch, your lips still locked together as his hands move under your clothes, taking off each item of your clothing at lightning speed, like he's trying to tear them all apart.
you break away in the mean time to breathe as you basically pant, taking the short time to look down onto yourself, practically naked then look at him who still had way to many clothes on for your liking, "not fair" your words barerly good said as he basically swallowed them by kissing you once more.
he shifts his position again, wrapping his arms around your bare waist, pulling you onto his lap, groaning into the kiss, trying his best to combine keeping you in place with one hand and cupping your face rather violently with the other.
"please," you pull his pants just a bit to get your point across, "not fair" repeating what you already said like a broken toy in addition you pouted which y'know gets u sympathy points usually, you wanted to feel him- it was only fair.
"oh look who's upset?" a grin splarred over his face, tone mocking maybe even belittling, "you'll have to earn it" running his fingers through one of your hair strands till his gaze returns to your eyes.
"i thought we were over this," you whined till throwing your head back in frustration, "please, i was so nice"
"nice? you called me a shitty guy, thought little of me and basically called me a womanizer among other things." he puts both of his hands on your knees and spreads your legs apart more so you sit wider on him, "and you really think that 'pretty pretty please' is gonna be enough?"
no matter how good he was of a fucker, you weren't just gonna throw away your morals for him completly so you bluntly responded: "the fact that i'm even on your lap right now after some of the shit you said is pretty damn nice of me"
"fair point" he admits and his hands wander up your body once more, tracing each and every curve of your body, holding you down tightly to stop you from moving "you're not a nice girl. you know what you are?"
you responded instantly before he could say anything, putting a finger on his mouth to pervent more bullshit coming from that pretty mouth of his: "don't call me a whore, i won't tolerate slut shaming anymore when you're just as much of one as me, if not more"
he squeezed your thighs during your little speach, acting like a brat who doesn't give two shits about whatever you're saying, "you know i love it when you try to play this 'respect me' act, acting like you really are not some little whore that just wants to get pounded into a matress till she can't take it anymore"
you rolled your eyes immediately, taking in a deep breath: "everytime i have the feeling like i'm getting somewhere with you, i'm talking you developing your brain from teenage boy age 13 to 14, you piss me of even more- god i fucking hate you"
he leans forward, his body even closer to yours, a cruel smile crossing his face, "oh i love the way you get angry" his hot breath hitting your face and his eyes locked into yours, "it makes you look so helpless"
you get closer to his face, now inches apart to make sure the next few sentences really get to him: "i just want you to know that whatever you'll think after this whole thing, i want you to know that you didn't magically pull me in, i'm not helpless neither are you the only person with good dick in this shitplace, you're an avaible option that can be replaced at any given moment, you are a whore that goes around and gets used, no matter how much you hate that fact or not, it's the damn truth, so start being a fucking man and accept it, suck it up" you say something he'd say to you, a taste of his own medicine if you will.
you see it on his face that you've managed to finally get to him, like he's actually taken aback by something for once. your words seemed to cut him deeply and he just stares at you, his breath shaky and his eyes big, wide doed like you've never seen before.
"okay," you take his hands away from your thighs locking them with yours, face still close to his, holding eye contact, "it's okay, it's okay to have sex, it's okay to want to live a free live but you have to communicate that and stop being a prick, stop using girls, stop blowing your ego up and then maybe we could have something" you whisper it as calmly as she can, squeezing his hands every once in a while like you actually want to help him.
he looked onto the both hands locked together till squeezing your hand back, his voice trembling as he tries to remain calm when speaking, "why are you still being so nice to me?"
"you know you do this thing where i look at you and you say something so good, so rational and it happens every once in a while where i think to myself- this is why i can't leave our whole thing alone cause somewhere just somewhere there still is that one valueable dude, it's just-" you sigh, till burrying your head on his shoulder in frustration, "i'm so stupid, i feel like i'll always come back to you, i don't know if that's good"
he almost automatically wraps his arms around your figure and now is the time where you actually do feel helpless in his arms, god- you were so stupid.
he buries his face in your hair, breathing you in, he didn't want to feel this vulnerable around you- it almost hurt to let his emotions show "oh c'mon- don't say that, please" his voice is shaky and his words carry a clear feeling of hurt.
"i always used to say that i don't believe that people can change, it's funny how you try to make excuses and loopholes for your morals when you actually experience something on your own," you straighten up your posture, removing your head from his shoulder, avoiding his eyes while trying to gather your thoughts.
his voice still carries the same shaky emotion as he speaks "why are you avoiding eye contact?" he burries his head against your chest, rubbing against it like trying to make you look at him, softly beginning to lick the skin.
the more he nibbles and licks on your skin, the more little mumbles against the skin are hearable, "i'll make you forgive me" or "i'll make you forget" - it's like a trance.
his tongue getting to your tits, "look at me, please" he pleads like not having your attention on him even for just a few seconds is a crime sentence - at the same time wrapping his lips around one of your hardened nipples, sucking with just as much passion.
he leaves thick traces of saliva on both ones, an occasional muffeled moan slipping out, "could do this forever, i could die happy with one of- mmh" giving both of them his full diverted attention like he had to make sure the other one doesn't feel left out.
when his head comes up from your chest, his eyes are half-lidded, hair is all over the place, a little bit of saliva in the corner of his mouth yet he instantly cups your face kissing you again and again.
everytime he breaks away just shortly to breathe he whispers something into the air then immediately kisses you, swallowing the words like they were dangerous to fly around unanswered.
"wanna do this forever, have you on my tongue over and over again till my tongue goes numb, till i can't taste or feel anymore"
"wanna have you in every position you can think of, wanna fuck you so much your body only remembers me, my shape, my dick- everything, only me"
"wanna make you hate being touched by anybody else but me, i'll be so selfish with you"
dangerous words.
dangerous words that feel a bit to real.
it's so evident he has long lost any control over himself, those eyes still so doed like he's begging you to give in, fully drop your boundaries, to give into his fantasies. eyes locking with yours to speak up just once more like he's admitting something, voice more quiet:
"fuck it, i'm already way to selfish with you"
your hands find the zipper of his pants right before opening, pausing to say something yourself, "i'm selfish too, i choose what i want in the moment instead of what would be better for me in the longterm" you pressed your lips onto his almost to shut down your own thoughts, the important ones, the conscious ones that were barerly left till breaking off again, "i don't care, not right now"
you can already feel his hard cock rub against your panties through the jeans material, "i'm so hard it hurts" he looked at you so pleadingly like you were the doctor with the medicine to safe his life, like this was a do or die situation, a tiny cheeky pout on his face, "can you fix me?"
you didn't know if he was talking about himself as a whole or his cock but regardless you took his hands in order for him to stand up so it would be easier to remove his pants and boxers doing it all in one swift motion.
making him sit down onto the coach once again, he whined at the feeling of cold air on his bare skin and you not immediately sitting down onto him, you strip down your pretty ruined panties, his eye not knowing where to look as he played with his lip ring, tilting his head like he's tryna get a better view.
his hands reach out practically on their own, yearning to get his hands onto anything yours, "sit down, ride me" jungkooks tone shaky yet he tried his best to hide that (not rly working) as he added a tiny quiet "please" at the end of it, barerly audible to the average ear.
you couldn't help but chuckle at the fact that he was behaving like a child (nothing unusual) but the laugh got cut of by a moan as your pussy practically swallowed his length, his hands instantly quite harshly going to your hips, leading you- maybe even guiding.
"fuck yea-" his voice so awfully strained as his both of your hips moved in sync, his fingernails digging into your soft skin, making you groan.
"missed this pussy so much," he moaned out, throwing his head back onto the coach headboard till he weakly added: "so obssesed with you, i've been wanting this tight- mmh, fuck- ever since-"
he couldn't finish his sentence neither did he look like he could form any coherient thoughts, face scrunched up in pleasure, a bit of sweat on his forehead- and you probably didn't look any better yourself.
your walls clenched around him out of sheer response, you were so wrong- this was such bad decision, it would be so hard to let him go after this, it would-
"gonna cum, fuck- i can't"
his pressed out words cut through your thoughts like a sharp knife, the skin slapping noises suddenly feeling louder then they had been before, your own pussy clenching around him once again.
"can't hold it back, i don-"
he was going to leave marks on your hips for sure, you bet he didn't even realize how hard he had been squeezing the poor skin, occasionally moving to your ass.
you moaned yourself, feeling your own orgasm approaching, jungkooks eyes closed, lips parting slightly like he's on the top stage of ecstasy somewhere over the rainbow as you could feel your own walls getting coated with cum.
your body instantly went weak after, lightly collpasing onto his chest as though he seemed unusually tired he wrapped his arms around your back, stroking the skin and bone structure slowly.
it felt so comforting even your eyes closed, you felt so tired- what time was it again?
"fuck- i forgot the condom" his fingers paused, the shook in his voice audible.
"i'm on the pill, we're good" you closed your eyes again, now the clear goal was to fall asleep.
yet y'know how it was with your plans and jungkook- he cut through them as he lied still for a few minutes till whispering, "i don't hate you by the way" his fingers now again continuing the gentle act on your back even slower then before like a quit lullaby, "not even one bit"
"i know"
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silencesscreams · 4 months
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"is there any chance i can fix this?" where james and reader are best friends since birth but he begins to pull away and spend less time with her in favor of the boys, so she just cuts him out of her life and after a while he doesn't know how to deal with it anymore. hiiiii
sad beautiful tragic
james potter x fem reader (angst)
a/n: sorry about any grammar mistakes, english isn’t my first language (also i’m pretty bad at writing angst but i tried my best) also immediately thought of the title because of the taylor swift song, so hope you don’t mind the association. also the first kiss part came to my mind because of a tiktok i saw a few weeks ago but i don’t really remember who’s it was to credit them
warnings: friendship distancing, kissing, fighting, cursing, a bit short (sorry), happy ending
“i’m sorry, okay? i’m so sorry, honey, please. is there any chance i can fix this? just tell me, please”
you knew james potter and he knew you. knowing meaning comprehending each other, meaning that you stood by each others side for as long as you can remember.
he was your first friend. he was your neighbor and you both grew up together, it was expected that you both would know each other better than anyone.
sure, it felt different when you both started hogwarts and suddenly he had new friends, but so did you. you spent the time you could together, always saving a bit of your days for each other.
during the sixth to seventh year summer vacation, he had spent the whole summer with you, you both would hang out all the time.
until he kissed you.
it was the last day of summer and you both had spent the evening in his room. you were talking about a book you had been reading recently and he listened quietly, like it was the most interesting thing he had ever heard of. until you paused for a brief moment and he moved closer to you. you were sat on the floor with him, the carpet tickling your legs as you played with the fluffy yarn under you.
“honey” he said, you looked at him, doe eyed waiting for him to continue. “a phrase. two words, six letters, two vowels. guess.” he said lowly whilst looking at your lips. your mind went blank.
one vowel for each word. you still didn’t get it.
“what are the vowels?” you whisper back, he smiles.
“i and e” he answers, not taking his eyes from off of you for a second. you knew.
“kiss me?” and so he did. his lips met yours abruptly, his hands grabbed your hips and yours went straight to the back of his neck. it completely changed the way you ever saw him, hell, it completely changed your expectations to a kiss. it was better than anything you’d ever experienced and you loved it.
when you got back to school, it seemed like he didn’t do that, actually, it seemed like he didn’t even talk to you the whole summer.
sure, he did casually say hello in the halls and you might’ve shared one or two conversations, but what the hell? he kisses you like that and expects you to just forget about it? that was the most fucked up thing anyone could’ve done. as the semester went on, your mind was absolutely torturing you over that kiss.
it made you overthink every single thing you ever did around him. but maybe he didn't have time, maybe he was really busy with his studies and quidditch, right? that was probably it.
he saw you every once in a while, said an awkward hi or whatever that thing signaling head thing he did was.
the crush you had developed for him didn’t help at all. it made you crave his presence in your life, even now that you hated him more than you ever thought you possibly could. you missed his pet names for you, ‘honey’ and ‘sweetheart’ sounded so amazing coming out of his mouth.
but from the moment he started to ignore you, you decided he was absolutely done. he was never going to see a smile coming from you ever again, he was never going to get another hello, nothing. james potter didn’t deserve a single thing from you.
your friends agreed. they thought he was a piece of shit and said you should’ve cut him off a long time before.
life went on without him, you barely thought about him. your studies were going well, everything was great.
christmas break came up and when you saw james at the train station, you were pissed. you knew he was going to be there for christmas dinner, he was always invited alongside with his family. you didn’t know how he was going to act then, was he going to pretend it never happened?
when you got home, your mother instantly started asking you what you wanted for dinner and you were glad to be home, you just hated that he was in the house next to yours.
a few nights after you both got home, you were invited for a date by steven, who worked at a bookstore near the city park. you said yes, he took you to see a shitty movie and tried to kiss you after dropping you off at your front porch. you dodged it and gave him a good night kiss on the cheek. james saw it all.
once the date left, you heard him yelling from his porch:
“who’s that?” you ignored him and went inside, sure, you weren’t going to see steven again but james didn’t deserve to know that.
on christmas day you went to the potter’s for dinner, your parents insisted for you to go, even though you tried to fake being sick. sirius was there too, you politely greeted all of them them and didn’t bother to answer james’ “hey”.
when you sad at the side of the living room table james sat next to you, even though that wasn’t his usual seat. you played with your dress awkwardly and ate less, being there was making you so irritated you lost your appetite.
after taking a bite from your desert, you thanked euphemia for the food and told your parents you were feeling a bit sick and that you were heading home, telling them to enjoy the rest of their night.
as you were opening the door to head out, you heard footsteps behind you. you knew james was there and you had no interest to talk with him.
“don’t” you simply stated, stepping out and shutting the door lightly on him, he followed you during the small walk between both your houses.
“hey!” he shouted, trying to get your attention. you were about to shut the door to your house on his face, but he held it with his foot, going into your house.
he pulled you by your wrist but you tugged it away from him.
“don’t touch me!” you shouted at him, staring into his eyes for the first time that night.
“now you can talk to me, huh? ‘the fucks up with you?!” he shouts back, brows furrowed. you couldn’t believe him, what a fucking nerve he had.
“whats up with YOU?!” you step closer to him, throwing your keys on the coffee table in the middle of the living room. “you’ve ignored me for the whole semester and now you wanna talk?” he had never seen you like this. you had never been this angry at anyone or anything around him.
“i’m sorry?” he had no reaction, he knew he was wrong, he just couldn’t deal with it. with anything. he didn’t know what to do after he kissed you, he couldn’t handle any of it. he knew that if he spent more time around you he would fall harder, he couldn’t risk it.
“i’m sorry! now that you don’t have anyone else near for you to talk to i’m worthy of your attention? i’m so lucky, right?!” your eyes started to tear up, but you held it in, he was not getting to see you cry.
“honey, i’m sorry i didn’t talk much with you these past few months, but i tried to speak with you tonight and you didn’t even bother to answer me!” he ran his hand through his hair, looking at you as you sat down on the couch, staring at your hands.
“you didnt even look at me. the entire fucking night. one lousy ‘hey’ is not trying to do anything” he handed you a piece of paper, it was crumpled up in his jeans’ pocket. you knew he was bad with words, but the paper was written front and back. what was he even trying to do? did he think a letter was enough to fix the damage he had done?
“really? you’re a little too late for this, don’t you think?” you said, looking at him angrily.
“fine, don’t read it then. just keep it, okay?” he knew you were about to cry. it was the worst feeling he had ever felt.
“you don’t get to do this to me, james” you hold back tears once you say it.
“i know, honey, i know” he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, cupping your face as you try to not melt because of his touch. he kisses you, but this time you pull away.
“no. don’t do this to me” you say, a single tear streaming down your face, he wipes it off but more tears just keep coming
“im sorry, im so sorry for everything i did and-“ you interrupt him.
“could you just try to listen?!” you shout, pulling away from his touch again. “what makes you think that i want this? after all you did, better, all that you didn’t do?! you kiss me and expect me to forget about it? expect me to be okay with you ignoring me all the time just because you kissed me again? i can’t be okay with any of this unless you actually explain to me what happened. i really try to understand you, but all of this doesn’t help!”
“i love you” he says “i have loved you all my life and i didn’t know, after i kissed you it all hit me and i couldn’t trust myself around you anymore, i didn’t want to hurt you so i pulled away, i just didn’t know it would hurt you more like that. i’m sorry, but im here now and i want to show you how much I do love you” he pauses and sits next to you on the couch.
“i’m sorry, okay? i’m so sorry, honey, please. is there any chance i can fix this? just tell me, please” he wipes the tears from off your face again. you knew he meant it, you just didn’t know how to trust him again.
“i don’t know” you whisper, looking into his eyes, you had never seen him look this sad. you wanted to trust him, you really did, but how could you? how could you know he wasn’t going to pull something like that again?
you couldn’t be sure of anything, you could only hope for the best and be careful. so you gave it a shot.
“come here” you say lowly, pulling him in for a hug. he buried his face in the crook of your neck and gave you small kisses.
“i’m so sorry, baby” he whispered.
“i know” you whisper back, he looks at you and gives you quick kisses all over your face. you can’t help but smile.
it was going to take a while for you to trust him again, but you knew you could.
2K notes · View notes
nastybuckybarnes · 6 months
Text
Welcome Home
Pairing: Simon Riley X Reader
Summary: Nothing shatters the tension of a fight quite like needing your boyfriend to rush home to save you from people who would do you harm.
Warnings: Angst, Language, Fighting, Fluff, Kind of mean!Simon but not too bad, very minor violence, home invasion, I think that's it...?
Word Count: 1.5K
A/n: we're gonna dip a toe in the COD water and see what happens. I love ghost and Konig so we'll see what else I do there. For any and all COD stuff, I use Canadian Military as a basis for the readers background.
~*~
"I've had enough of this. I'm not gonna argue with you about somethin' so stupid," he hisses, glaring at you with hard, cold eyes.
"It's not stupid, Simon, you just don't want to ever entertain the idea of talking about things that might make you slightly uncomfortable!"
"Oh fuckin hell." He drags a hand down his face and shakes his head.
"Everythin's always gotta end with you being right, doesn't it?"
You frown at his absolute lack of any sort of understanding or empathy.
"This isn't about me being right, this is about you at the very least hearing me out!" You try.
"You knew what you were getting in to the moment you met me, m'not sure what you're expecting of me now. S'not like I can go and change the way things are, now can I?"
You narrow your eyes at him and his blatant ignorance.
"I understand full well, Lieutenant. I've been there, which is something you seem to conveniently forget."
He lets out a humourless chuckle and shakes his head, "don't go put yourself in the same category as me now, lovey. You know you weren't exactly at my level when you served."
His words are a slap in the face.
Sure, you were never quite JTF2 or SAS level, but that doesn't mean your time in the military is any less valid than his.
Seven years of your life you devoted to serving your country, the medical help for teams like his, and all he can do is turn his nose down at it as if it means nothing to him.
"You know what? Fuck you, Simon. I never even insinuated that we were at the same level and for you to try and..." you stop, pinching the bridge of your nose as anger fills you.
"What? Got nothin' to say now? That's a shock."
It takes all your strength not to lash out at him and even more to stop your bottom lip from quivering at just how mean he's being.
Sure, he's always been a little rough around the edges, a little harsh and brazen, but never has he been so downright mean to you.
"Get out."
"What?" This seems to genuinely catch him off guard, his arrogance faltering for a moment.
"Get out. Leave."
Simon Riley isn't a man who gets scared. He's been chewed up and spat out of hell before. Nothing on Earth can get the jump on him and nothing can scare him.
At least, that's what he thought.
His palms tingle and he needs to grind his teeth together a few times to collect himself before speaking.
"So that's it then?" He asks, his deep voice barking the question like he would an order.
You two have had your fair share of fights in the time that you've been dating, even more since you moved in together, but none where he's thought you might end things.
"I'm not gonna stand here and take a verbal beating from you, Si. Get out and come back when you've had a chance to fucking cool off."
He stares at you for a long moment, testing your resolve, waiting to see if you really mean it.
When you hold his glare, not backing down, he grabs his coat, mask, and keys and storms out of the house without another word.
You stand there in the kitchen for a long moment, the silence ringing heavily in your ears before you storm up the stairs to take a shower and, hopefully, argue out all your hostility in private.
The warm water runs over your tense shoulders for a few minutes and you try your hardest to relax, to let the anger seep out of you and run down the drain, but when you hear the front door open you're filled with rage once more.
You stand in the shower silently, waiting for the door to open and close again, signalling his departure, but instead you just hear boots on the kitchen floor.
Scoffing and shaking your head, you start to seethe.
As if he's wearing his shoes in the house on top of everything else.
You yank the shower curtain aside and step out onto the mat, not bothering to turn the shower off.
A crash from the kitchen makes you freeze.
Simon is never this loud.
Like a deer on the highway, you stay still, silencing your breathing as you listen to the noises coming from the kitchen.
Instead of calling out to him and potentially causing more trouble, you take a silent step to the counter where your phone lies.
You grab it and hit his icon quickly, listening to it ring for a while before he sends you to his voicemail. A loud beep sounds tauntingly in your ear and you huff out an angry breath.
You hang up and call him back, grinding your teeth together when he sends you straight to voicemail again.
The noises in the kitchen continue, and your heart jumps into your throat.
Answer your phone, Simon.
You shoot the text off quickly then immediately call him again, your stomach settling when the call connects.
"Are you home?" You waste no time on pleasantries, and instead hear him sigh heavily.
"You told me to get the fuck out, didn't ya? Why would I be home."
Your breath hitches and you press your back to the bathroom door, turning the lock silently as panic fills you.
"Simon, someone's here."
The fear in your voice has his blood running cold, his fingers gripping the steering wheel tighter as your fight gets shoved from his mind.
"What do you mean 'someone's here'?" He asks, his voice lacking the anger it had only moments ago.
"I heard the door open and I can hear someone in the kitchen."
You hear his tires screeching on the pavement and his engine roaring as he speeds home.
"Where are you right now?" This isn't Simon talking now. You recognize the change.
This is Ghost.
"I'm in our bathroom. Door locked and shower on."
"Good. Keep that water running. As long as they think you don't know they're there, you should be okay until I get home."
"Okay." You feel a little bit safer knowing he's on his way home.
"Keep me on the line."
"Okay."
There's a few seconds of just breathing before you speak again.
"How far are you?"
"Two minutes away."
"Okay... After you deal with these guys we can go back to yelling at each other," you whisper, wrapping a towel around your body and leaning against the wall across from the door.
He chuckles softly and the sound makes a small smile tug at your lips.
As much as he pisses you off and even sometimes hurts your feelings, deep down you know you'll never love anyone the way you love him.
You don't realize you've been quiet until he calls your name softly.
"You still with me, dove?" His voice is soft and you hear him turn the car off.
"I'm here."
"Good. I'm home now, don't come out of the bathroom 'till I come get you, understood?"
"Understood."
Sometimes living with Simon reminds you of being on base, and there are times when you despise it.
And then there are the times when you don't mind it as much. This is one of those times.
You hear the muffled sound of what must be him putting his phone in his pocket, and you close your eyes as you hear the soft click of the door handle through the speaker.
His footsteps are silent, even through the phone, and you feel ridiculous for ever thinking you'd hear it if he came home.
You can hear him as he takes down one intruder, and then what must be a second one.
He says nothing to them, that you can hear. But a series of dull thuds echo through the house before silence remains.
A few minutes go by of nothing, but you don't dare speak or open the door.
Ghost gave you an order, and you have no intentions of disobeying.
There are a few more moments of silence before you hear a crisp knock on the door.
"Lovey? You can open up now."
Breathing out a sigh of relief, you open the bathroom door and are immediately engulfed in Simon's strong arms.
He walks you backwards into the bathroom and squeezes you to his chest, mask hiked up over his nose so he can breathe in the scent of you.
"You all right, love?" He asks softly, his voice gruff and ever so rough.
"M'okay, Si. Thank you for coming home."
"S'my fault anyway. I shoulda locked the door before leavin' in a huff the way I did."
You frown and shake your head, pulling away to look up at him.
"This is in no way your fault, Simon. I could've easily locked the door after you. I'm just happy you got home in time."
Though you're not sure what the intruders really wanted, you're glad you didn't have to find out alone.
"I'll always come home."
And with those four words, he puts to rest not only the intruder situation, but also your argument from earlier.
Because he will. He'll always come home to you, regardless of what he needs to do, he'll make sure he comes home to you.
2K notes · View notes
arieslost · 2 months
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cinnamon whiskey | ln4
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lando norris x fem!writer!reader
summary: you meet a famous race car driver in one of the last places you’d expect— the adirondacks.
word count: 4,578
warnings: drinking, minor injuries (small description of bruising)
masterlist — join my tag list here!
© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
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Your editor was going to kill you.
Every day brought you closer to the deadline for your manuscript, and every day you could hardly help yourself out in getting to your self-imposed goal of 1,000 words. It wasn’t a difficult feat; you’d done it before, and you didn’t have anything else to be doing. You had absolutely zero distractions: it was just you, your notebook, and your computer. There was only one problem.
The words just weren’t coming to you, and you’d already gotten a two week extension on the deadline. It felt like all your writing abilities had been rescinded.
“I’m screwed.” You professed to your best friend, falling into a pathetic heap on her couch. You needed a serious pick-me-up after struggling to write a measly paragraph, and she had readily offered a girls night.
“I think you’re being a little dramatic. Scoot over.” She replied, shoving your legs out of the way so she could sit. “Maybe you just need to get out of your house.”
“And go where? I can’t just pack up and take a vacation right now.” You grumbled into the couch cushion.
“Why don’t you go upstate?” She suggested after a moment of silence.
“Upstate?” You repeated.
“Yeah, go to the Adirondacks. My dad owns a house up there, remember? We had a blast the last time we were there.”
You and your best friend had gone up to the Adirondacks when you graduated college, and you always prefaced the retelling of it with, “It was one of the best weeks of my life.” You almost felt silly for not thinking of doing something like that in the first place.
“It might be a good idea… Do you think your dad would be okay with me staying there?”
Your best friend laughed. “Yes, you idiot. He’s let me stay there by myself, he’ll definitely let you.”
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A mere 24 hours went by, and you were settled in a cozy cabin in the Adirondacks with the desperate hope of having the rest of your manuscript ready by the end of your stay. Otherwise, you might as well just fire yourself and save your editor some time.
It wasn’t the only cabin in the area– it was more like a very small community made up of six houses built exactly the same. The area was usually used by people with a decent amount of cash lining their pockets, so you were extra grateful to your best friend’s father. He had taken one look at the dejection on your face when your best friend had mentioned her grand idea, and simply handed you the keys with the promise that your stay would be free of charge.
You did feel a little out of place, though– you could have sworn one of your neighbors was in a movie you’d just watched, and another one was just so ridiculously attractive there was no way he wasn’t famous for something. You’d seen him out on his front porch when you arrived, and had to force yourself not to stare or salivate over his bare torso.
The change of scenery around you helped tremendously. At first. You always felt refreshed when you went somewhere new, particularly if it was somewhere you felt more connected to nature. You had gotten into the habit of taking walks to calm yourself when you got frustrated, and having new sights was definitely an exciting prospect for when you inevitably slammed your computer shut and stormed out the door like you just did a few moments ago.
You’ll be the first to admit it: the story just isn’t coming together. Your main character has a goal, a purpose, but she is entirely lacking any kind of driving force to get where she needs to go.
She has no motivation.
You can appreciate irony, but there’s nothing funny about it right now.
The dirt and leaves crunch under your feet as you walk down the first trail that you see. It branches off from the main path that runs between all of the houses: yours, the attractive guy’s, and one other, and then the suspected movie star’s and the other two on the other side. Right now, you just want to see nothing but the path before you, the trees in your peripheral vision, the gentle summer breeze in your hair, and maybe a chipmunk or a squirrel here and there.
But, of course, you can’t even have that. You’re alone with your thoughts for all of two seconds before you hear a crash off to your left that sends a few birds flying. You would have ignored it if not for the groan that immediately followed.
“Um… hello?” You call out, doubling back to try and see just what the hell had happened.
If you were in a horror movie, this would most certainly be your death scene.
“Ah…” It’s definitely a man, and he definitely sounds like he’s in pain.
“Are you okay?” You step off the path, getting closer to where the noise had come from.
That’s where you find him— your insanely attractive neighbor, practically in the fetal position, entirely focused on the camera in his hand. His jaw is clenched, whether in pain or concern for the camera, you don’t know. You just know he has a sharp jawline, long eyelashes, and curly hair.
Ugh, you could cry because he’s so good looking.
He looks up at you, eyes meeting yours, and he has the decency to look embarrassed.
“What the hell just happened to you?”
“I, um… I fell out of that tree.” He confesses, pointing to a branch, not too high up, but now dangling in half.
“And you were in the tree because…” You trail off, gesturing for him to explain further.
“Right, well, I was taking pictures and had an idea for a good one from a higher vantage point, so I climbed the tree. Thought I had a good balance, but—” He winces as he pushes himself up into a sitting position. “I didn’t.”
“No kidding. You’re lucky you didn’t break anything.” You marvel, hands held out in front of you just in case he falls over when he starts standing up.
“I’m not too sure about that.” He huffs out a pained laugh.
“You wouldn’t have been able to stand up so easily if you had, and your wrist and shoulder look fine.” You point out. “I have no doubt that you bruised your side up pretty badly though.”
“Yeah? How would you know?” He leans against the tree he just fell out of, his miraculously unbroken camera hanging from the strap around his neck.
“I’m a writer. I’m like a black hole of useless information.”
“I don’t think it’s useless anymore.” He takes a step forward and his face immediately contorts into a grimace. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Well, you’ve already asked so much of me, but if you really have to, then sure.” You tease, and he laughs again.
“I’m probably going to need some help getting back to the house,” he begins, and then continues after taking in the surprised look on your face. “But you don’t have to. I can just crawl or something. Maybe I’ll get lucky and make it back before nightfall.”
Not just attractive, but funny too? You might as well make the most out of these two weeks and use whatever you can to help you finish that dreaded manuscript. Besides, the only other person you’ve ever met who can hold a torch to your sense of humor is your best friend. This has to be a sign of some sort.
“Alright, but at least tell me your name first.”
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His name is Lando, you’ve known him for an hour, and you think you’re in love with him.
Sure, you’re frustrated that he completely ruined the solitude that you craved, but the ice maker in his house is broken and he desperately needs some for the bruise that you know is darkening by the second underneath his t-shirt. So he’s sprawled out on your couch, and you’re in the kitchen collecting ice cubes to wrap up in a hand towel.
“Alright, lift your shirt up,” you instruct, walking into the living room and taking a seat beside him.
“I usually take a girl out before I let her see me half naked.”
“But it’s okay if everyone else sees you out on your porch half naked?”
“You were looking?” He tilts his head down a little and raises his eyebrows. “Liked what you saw, did you?”
You blush. “Just shut up and lift your shirt.”
He hums a little to himself as he pulls his shirt up, revealing the beginnings of a bruise on his tan skin that is already swollen and definitely going to get worse over the next couple of days. It looks like it continues below the waistband of his boxers, but you’re not about to tell him to pull his pants down.
“That’s ugly.”
“I’ve had worse.” He shrugs, biting his lip when you gently rest the makeshift ice pack against his side.
“You have a habit of falling out of trees?”
“I have a habit of being in potentially life-threatening situations. It’s kinda part of my job.” He says it like he’s waiting for you to figure something out, waiting for something to click.
You take a moment to just look at him again. His fluffy curls, his infuriatingly handsome face, his thick neck, his toned stomach. And then something you’ve heard your best friend say a million times echoes in your head.
I bet every F1 driver’s contract has a clause that says they have to be hot in order to get in. I mean, you have Daniel Ricciardo, Charles Leclerc, and don’t even get me started on–
“Oh my God. Lando Norris?” You exclaim, almost jumping up from shock but stopping yourself so you don’t jostle him. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”
“I thought you knew!”
You glare at him. “Cocky much?”
“Well, what did you think when I told you my name?” He asks defensively.
“I don’t know, I thought your parents really liked Star Wars or something.”
He scoffs at this and smacks your hand away, holding the ice himself. “That’s real creative.”
“I’m sorry! My best friend is really into Formula One, but the most I’ve seen is bits and pieces of a race. I’ve never seen you, y’know, not in your car.” You feel like your eyes are practically bugging out of your head. “Wow, this is insane.” You knew he was too good looking to not be famous.
“Want me to sign something for you?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you.
“I will punch you right in your bruise.”
He stays for a couple more hours, readily enduring your endless stream of questions that follow your revelation of him being a Formula One driver, only getting a reprieve when the ice melts and you have to go get more.
He compensates for recounting his entire journey to Formula One by asking you his own questions the moment he’s done. You tell him more about how you became a writer– how you got your bachelor’s degree, got out into the world, and realized you had no clue what you wanted to do with your life, so you took a retail job. It paid a dollar above minimum wage, but it was worth it when something you heard a customer say once inspired you to craft a narrative that your editor liked enough to pick it up. She’d taken a gamble on you; you were her fourth client and the book wasn’t finished yet.
“So that’s why I’m out here,” you pause to catch your breath. “I need to have the manuscript done two weeks from yesterday, and I wasn’t getting anything done at home.”
“Needed a change of scenery.” Lando nods, like he can read your mind.
“Exactly.” You say quietly, suddenly feeling a bit self conscious under his intense gaze but refusing to look away.
The energy in the room shifts as the two of you look at each other, and you break the sudden eye contact when you take note of the fact that it’s dark out.
“I guess that’s my cue to leave,” he breaks the silence, pulling his shirt back down and letting out a quiet groan as he gets up. “I’ll see you tomorrow? There’s no way someone will be able to get up here to fix my ice machine by the morning.”
You blink at him a couple times, still trying to wrap your mind around the fact that you just spent hours talking with Lando Norris, all because he fell out of a tree. You didn’t even offer to make him dinner or anything, and he’s making plans to do this all over again.
You still haven’t spoken, so he waves his hand in front of your face. “Oh! Yeah, of course. Be careful, okay?”
He gives you an obnoxious salute. “I’ll try to survive the 50 steps it takes to get to my place from here.”
You go running for your laptop and start writing as soon as he’s gone.
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He’s at your door in the morning, and spends the whole day with you. Then the next, and the next, and the next thing you know, you only have four days left in your best friend’s dad’s house and it feels like you and Lando have known each other your entire lives. He isn’t able to do much in terms of physical activity, and when he trips over a root after insisting he’s fine you make the executive decision to go back to your house.
“Make some room, would you?” You sigh, looking for a place to sit thanks to the fact that he’s taking up the entire couch.
He simply lifts his head up.
“You’re joking, right?”
“I’m in pain. Don’t you want me to be comfortable?” He pouts at you.
“You’re insufferable, and a liar.” All the same, you sit down, and he rests his head in your lap.
He ignores you, eyes closed with a satisfied little smile on his face.
For his antics, you decide to disturb his newfound peace by putting the ice pack directly on his face and laugh when he bats it away.
“That’s just mean,” he whines, pressing his lips together when you put the ice on his bruise.
It’s mostly yellow and green now, like a weird rendition of Van Gogh’s Starry Night. Lando had made a game out of poking it two nights ago that ended just as quickly when he poked himself too hard and blamed you for it when you had been in the middle of telling him not to. After that, he hadn’t touched it, and now it looks a lot better. The ice probably isn’t needed anymore, but you’d prefer to err on the side of caution.
“You’ll live,” you say now, patting the top of his head to distract him from the discomfort.
“The last time I had a bruise this bad was when I crashed in Vegas last year.” He says, blinking up at the ceiling. “Took a while to go away.”
“I think I remember hearing about that. You crashed pretty early, no?”
“Yup. Barely got to race.” The sentences come out very clipped, like he’s still upset about it.
“It was a bad crash, huh?”
“Pretty bad.” You don’t have anything to say in response to that, so you start brushing your fingers through his curls. He relaxes instantaneously.
He almost falls asleep with his head in your lap, and that’s when you can’t take it anymore and have to kick him out. He’s almost to the last step when he stops and turns back, making direct eye contact with you.
“Y’know, it’s too bad you weren’t there when I crashed.” He gives you a soft smile. “You’re pretty good at taking care of me.”
Well, shit.
There’s a bottle of cinnamon whiskey sitting in one of the kitchen cabinets that you’ve been waiting for an excuse to open. You should drink it now when you’re thinking about him, but you decide to wait until you see him again.
You open your laptop and write until you fall asleep.
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By the time you let him in the next morning, you’re stumped again. You only slept for a few hours and expected to get right back into your groove the moment you woke up, but when you read over what you wrote last night, your brain just refused to comprehend it. It feels like you’re back to square one, but you can’t be too upset about it when Lando makes his way through the door. He doesn’t mention anything about ice like he usually does, which makes you equally happy and disappointed. Happy that he’s feeling good enough to forego the ice, disappointed because that means that there’s really no reason for him to come over anymore.
But if there’s one thing you can expect from him, it’s his spontaneity.
“We should go out tonight.”
“And where exactly would we be going?” You ask, watching him kick back on the couch like he’s the one that lives here.
“I dunno, just outside, I guess. You like stargazing?”
“I love it.” You reply enthusiastically. “I bet the stars are gorgeous out here. I’ve been cooped up every night, I haven’t had the chance to see them.”
“It’s settled then. Cancel your plans, you’re all mine tonight.”
“I didn’t— never mind.” You silently will away the flush creeping up your neck. “Actually, I wanted to ask you a question.”
“Shoot.”
“How’d those pictures come out? The ones you were trying to take when you fell?” You lean over the back of the couch in order to actually see him as you’re talking to him.
“That was two questions.” He laughs when you smack his shoulder. “I got a couple action shots as I was falling. They’re terrible, but I’m thinking about keeping them for the memories. Fun story for the kids, don’t you think?”
“Sure.” The kids?! You’re definitely breaking out the whiskey tonight. It’s the first (and only) thing you grab when he goes back to his place to get a blanket.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” You ask the moment the two of you step onto the trail, and he puts a hand over his heart.
“Your concern for me is adorable.”
“I’m only asking because you almost ate shit last time.” You burst out laughing at the immediate change in his expression.
He ends up leading the way for a mile or two before you reach a clearing that you would’ve discovered had he not fallen out of the tree.
“This is beautiful,” you muse, taking in your surroundings as Lando lays the blanket on the ground.
The sun is just about set, a light breeze passing through; a few different wildflowers are waving throughout the clearing. You look around and can’t see any sign of civilization. While that should make you nervous, since you’re with a guy you’ve only known for less than two weeks, it instead makes you relax. You forget entirely about your computer waiting for you back at the house and busy yourself with getting the top off the whiskey bottle.
“Found it the second day I was here. I’ll have to show you the pictures I got once I upload them all.” Lando says, furrowing his eyebrows as you struggle with your task. “Need some help there?”
“Be my guest,” you hand it over and have to force yourself to remain calm when he pops the top off like it was nothing.
“Ladies first,” he hands it back.
With pleasure, you think to yourself. Maybe getting drunk will help you stop acting like a schoolgirl. You take a generous drink, squeezing your eyes shut and breathing out slowly. “That is strong.”
“Hand it over.” He lets out a low whistle as soon as he swallows and returns it to you. “Wow.”
“I actually had a dream like this once,” you say, wincing at the burn of the whiskey as it slides down your throat. “I was just laying there, staring at the stars, with no worries. It was so peaceful.”
Lando takes the bottle from your outstretched hand. “I don’t dream.”
“What?!” The high pitch of your voice slices through the night. “Are you serious?”
“Yup.” He takes a long sip from the bottle before placing it down in the space between you. “Never have.”
“That’s- that’s crazy.” You shake your head.
“I’d think it’s nicer that way, no?” he counters. “I probably sleep better than you.”
“I mean, I guess. But then you don’t have any crazy dreams to share.”
“You always remember your dreams?”
Now, you blush. You’re not sure why you’re embarrassed. “I, um… I keep a journal.”
Lando’s eyes widen. “No way.”
“I have dreams written down all the way back to 2015.” You confess, reaching for the bottle again.
He starts laughing, like he thinks you’re joking.
“I’m serious!” You exclaim, shoving his shoulder. “In my defense, I’ve actually come up with some ideas from my dreams. Fat lot of good they’re doing for me right now, but…”
Lando hums, eyes skimming over your now crestfallen expression. He passes the bottle back.
“Thanks,” you mumble, tilting the bottle up to your lips.
“I’m sure you’ll find some type of inspiration while we’re out here.”
“I only have two days left, Lan.”
He gestures for you to pass the bottle back, and you do. You watch as he takes a sip, looking from his lips, to his jaw, to his neck, to his Adam’s apple that bobs as he swallows. You’re really going to miss this view. He lets out a quiet hiss. “Damn, that’s strong whiskey.”
“I told you.”
There’s a lull in the conversation, and then he speaks again. “My ice machine got fixed.”
“That’s—”
“Last week.” He cuts you off, doing that stupid thing he does where he stares directly into your eyes.
Your heart is in your throat, and your voice is small when you reply. “Okay…”
“And I was supposed to leave three days ago.”
Now your jaw drops. “Why… Why are you still here?”
“Because you’re still here.” He answers evenly, the alcohol clearly working in his favor. “I initially came here for the same reason as you– needed a change of scenery. It’s summer break right now, and my friend Logan told me it was super nice up here. It is, but then I had my little mishap and… it’s been a lot better since you showed up. So I decided to stay a little longer.”
He’s close to you now, so close you can smell the whiskey on his breath, so you say the only thing you can think to say. “I can’t believe you fell out of a tree.”
“I can’t believe you took care of me this whole time.” He brushes your hair out of your face, and his fingers linger on your cheek.
Your internal giddiness rises when you realize he’s actually about to kiss you. Your stomach is doing Olympic level gymnastics and you don’t trust yourself to speak, so you let the whiskey do it for you: you kiss him first.
You can’t remember the last time you kissed anyone, but the moment he pulls you on top of him you know that you won’t ever forget kissing him.
“Lan…” you break away from him to catch your breath, smoothing his curls back from his forehead. You can just see the glint in his eyes as he stares up at you, and it’s borderline painful knowing that you only get to enjoy this view for two more days.
You don’t remember what you were going to say to him. It’s way too soon for “I love you,” and not the right time to say “I already miss you.” You still want to say both.
Like he can hear your inner turmoil, he silences it by touching his forehead to yours. “Kiss me again, please,” he whispers.
You don’t waste a second in giving him what he wants, wanting nothing more in this moment than to feel his lips against yours again. You’re careful to avoid his side as he lays back on the blanket, keeping a firm grip on your hips so you don’t go anywhere. You try to convey everything you want to say into the kiss: I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you. I know I’m going to miss you. Please don’t let me go.
He holds you closer and gently slips his tongue into your mouth, and you melt into him, knowing the whole while that Lando Norris has effectively ruined all other men for you.
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Six Months Later.
Your phone is ringing in the other room as you’re in the middle of recounting the kiss to your best friend for the millionth time.
“Sorry, I’ll be right back,” you apologize. “It might be important.”
Thinking it’s your editor, because who else would call you at this late hour, you don’t look at the caller ID before you answer. “Hi, listen, I wanted to talk to you about—”
“The love interest falls out of a tree, huh?”
Your mouth falls open. “Lando?”
“That would be me. Or should I change my name to Darren?”
You roll your eyes, unable to stop yourself from smiling. “I thought you were never going to call me.”
You’d finished your manuscript the day before you went home. He’d been sleeping right next to you as you wrote the final words, and you should’ve brought it up that morning. Instead, you left your number on his porch the day you left, too deep in overthinking mode to actually face him and properly say goodbye. You truly didn’t expect him to call you after that act of such cowardice, especially after the two of you spent almost the entirety of your last days together at various levels of undress.
“I really wanted to,” he admits. “At least ten different times. I think Oscar might have assaulted me if I chickened out this time.”
“Yeah, because you won’t shut the hell up about her!” A voice in the background exclaims, and you hear something go flying.
“Get out!” Lando snaps, and you can hear Oscar’s laughter fading.
“Sweet of you to subject him to hearing all about me.”
“Come to the race at Silverstone.” He says before you can even finish your sentence. “I’ll pay for the flight, the hotel, everything. Just come.”
You feel like the floor just fell out from under your feet. “Lan—”
“I can’t stop thinking about you.” It’s said in a nearly unintelligible whisper, but his tone changes so suddenly you have to sit down.
“I can’t stop thinking about you either.” You confess. “That’s… kind of why I wrote you into my book.”
“Please, come to Silverstone,” he repeats, practically begging. “Come be with me.”
And when he finds you in the crowd after taking the win at his home race, and he wastes no time in wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his lips to yours for everyone to see, you’re immediately taken back to those two weeks you spent in the Adirondacks, where you finally found the inspiration you’d been missing your entire life.
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note: this one goes out to my fellow writers who desperately wish their inspiration would fall out of a tree— writer’s block will never defeat us.
this got a little long, so if you’re reading this, thank you thank you thank you.
requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!
reblogs are always appreciated <33
beautiful dividers by @/saradika !
tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @anathedivine @xfuckoffx @architect-2015 @violetiss3lfish @havaneselover08 @paigeworlds @whatever7justchillin @xoredmoonlightxo @dovieloovie @totowolffstablexoxo @maddie-bell @lalisgs11 @rrrraaaalllluuuu @formulasportworld @madisonbidaddy @anedpev @estherapz-blog @jess-wither @loveyatopluto @athena-artemis-dorian-gray @lou-larcher5 @clearlyabi @fizzpopsnap101 @fluerlaurent @mcmuppet @positiveaspirations @notturlover @crazymofo-96 @chanthereader @apollo-axolotl
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Text
𝑀𝑦 𝐶𝑎𝑡 𝐼𝑛 𝐷𝑖𝑠𝑔𝑢𝑖𝑠𝑒
A/N: This is definetly not me projecting my love for cats and Regulus. Also, if anyone is interested in documentaries, I recommend you watching "Inside of a cat's mind". It was really interesting, and also a seratonin boost for me.
A/N: I feel like this sucks but I couldn't think of another way to end this, I hope you guys like it!
Prompts used: "I love her so bad" from this, "you are my favourite, you always have been." from this.
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"That's downright ridiculous..."
"Oh, come on, Reggie! What better way than this to show your lover your new animagus form?"
Regulus swinged his tail back and forth angrily as he laid on his mattress on his front legs, even rolling his eyes at his dumb friends as they continued to tease him with his brand-new look. It wasn't like he could talk in that form, but he was so goddamn sure that his eyes gave his thoughts away. What started this conversation and the endless teasing from his friends was that Regulus could now transform into his Animagus form.
Which was a black cat. A cute and cuddly one, as Pandora said while scratching his ears as Barty and Evan made fun of him for being soft. He hissed at them loudly, showing his sharp claws as a silent threat as he nuzzled closer to the sweater under his paws, full of your smell and perfume as a little happy smile found his face, watching Pandora who had been petting him as she chastised the other two in the room.
But it did nothing to help.
Since when it did anyways? Nothing could stop those idiots...
Barty and Evan let out a bark as they rolled on their bed, Barty crouching down with his hands on his knees in front of Pandora who had been sitting down on the ground, shaking her head for him not to do anything that would anger Regulus.
But, as usual, Barty didn't care, and dramatically wiped a fake tear from his eye as he offered his forefinger to Regulus, who had been eyeing him with bored eyes and an evil plan, wondering if it was obvious on his cat face as he imagined the delight he would feel.
"Awww, look at our little Reggie! So angry and deadly, with his little claws and teeth~ You are so soft now, so cuddly that I can just-AHHH!"
But of course, Regulus' personality didn't change just because he turned into a cat and since everyone practically knew not to call him that name... Well, except for his lovely lover you, and Barty still did it...
It was only fair for him to bite his finger and claw at his face.
"And that's what happens when you mess with Regulus, Barty. He is still the same friend we have that absolutely hates to be teased and that's what you get..." Pandora sighed out as she rose up, passing by them in the common room as she got out. She didn't care about the screaming behind her, Evan cackling on the ground about "how Barty got bitten by a kitten" while the boy tried to convince him that "it was a literal cheetah that bit him and not a kitten" as if his cooings and awes weren't the reason behind that cat's anger.
Well, he warned him that he didn't like that nickname so he had it coming, right?
Regulus nuzzled deeper into Pandora's arms as the young girl giggled, smiling to herself at seeing her friend happy as he always was whenever he had that special clothing close to him. "Don't worry, Regulus... I know Y/N is in the Great Hall, preparing you food again. So, I'll take you to your precious lover~"
And if his face couldn't show the possible blush on his face and how comedically wide his eyes were, the way he jumped up and kneaded your sweater that he found in his room after stealing it definetly did the job.
His heart beated harder at the thought of seeing you, preparing him a plate with a cute frown and possibly cursing at him for not caring about his health as you made little talk with your friends here and there...
He always knew he was one hell of a lucky guy for finding someone like you. So caring and loving and supporting...
All his life, Regulus never had known love or care. At least not from his mother and her twisted way of showing love and his father's abuse. All he had, for the longest time, was his brother and even then, he never thought he could have more, deserved more.
More of that love and affection he craved.
So, after pinning after you since the firs year, he finally had the courage of asking you out... Even if he didn't want to think back to that day because of the high stuttering of his, a sign of how nervous he was and how important you were to him.
Because that mother and father of his might have failed at showing what true love means, he had plenty of times to secretly read all about romantic books and witness it with his own mind and heart. He often thought that they weren't real, that the author went overboard with all the struggles and fights the main characters went through for the love they shared with each other, strong enough to stand against every strong wind, army or even death.
He questioned whether love was worth it all, when he wanted something serene and comforting. He was done with all the fights anyways, he didn't want any of those any more.
He deserved that at least, right?
But soon, he realized that not everyone is like his parents. Not every relationship is disasterous with the fights and disagreements... They are what makes it stronger and more powerful, with every hardship that comes.
He learnt that without those waves and little obstacles in the way, the comforting relationship and tender love he desperately needed would never be his.
So, he gulped down his worries and confessed his love to you, in one of the many times that you two hung out in the Astronomy Tower. By that time, you were already aware of his feelings by the way he was so soft with you and actually seeked to spend more time with you throughout your days together.
Besides, you were sure Regulus didn't spend his time taking girls to watch stars as he rambled about each of them while subconsciously holding your hand.
But then... Another problem arose: Showing his affections, a basic need of a relationship in his eyes.
Because, as any sane person could tell, Regulus didn't have the healthiest of relationship with his parents even though he knew what they... had between each other was far from love. He knew he would never dare, and rather kill himself, to do any of the things they did to each other to you. He knew he wanted to hold you, kiss you, openly show his love, the way his eyes shone brighter at the sight of you as you skipped to him was enough of a sign...
But he knew he wouldn't be able to bear all the teasing his friends and his brother, with whom he recently fixed his relationship, would do.
And he hated himself for thinking like that, doing the exact opposite of what he wanted to do when you didn't deserve it at all. He didn't want you to think that he was ashamed of you, which you never did and gold him that it was fine he didn't declare his love out all the time like a certain older brother of his and knew he loved you through his actions...
But it wasn't enough for him, it wasn't enough for the voices in his mind to stop.
You deserved a man who wouldn't shy away, who didn't have severe issues with himself. Someone who wasn't the item of a fucked up ideology... Someone who would be proud and confident in both himself and you, slinging an arm around you while walking and give you anything you asked for.
Perhaps a free future... Away, in a cottage with some animals...
But he was a selfish man who wanted to be that person, to be the reason of your smile and happiness every day. He just... had to find a way to show all of these thoughts and feelings.
But he was bad at it... So, why not get the help of a cute animal to see what you exactly like? And show his feelings?
"I swear to Merlin, I will strangle that boy when I see him! He disappears all the time, without eating! Who does he think he is?" You angrily turned to your friend who was eating her fries as she stopped her hand mid-air and looked at you with her eyes and mouth wide open. "What? Who?"
"Regulus, of course! That boy will give me a heart attack at one point, the other day I found him literally choking Barty because of that nickname again!" You angrily scoffed as you dumped more food like an angry mother, but your friend only laughed because of the twitch of your lips upwards.
"Yeah, but you love him and his special treatment, no?" She wiggled her brows as she continued to eat and you sighed out in bliss, a loving and stupid smile plastering on your face.
And yes, yes you loved him and his stupid grin whenever he teased you and his sweet smile as he watched you do your own thing.
But it wasn't enough of a reason to not to scold him when you see him as soon as possible.
"Maybe. And yes, I very much so am in love with him but I'll strangle him anyways... He promised to not pick up fights and take care of himself better- Oh, hi Pandora!"
You turned fast to where the bubbly girl was coming to your way, excitedly waving at her when your eyes landed on... the cutest ball of sunshine on her arms.
"Hi, Y/N! I see that you are... agitated?" She snorted to herself as she saw how you changed your mood at the sight of the cat between her arms as you nodded absentmindedly to her, waving off her question while scratching the little cat's chin with a stupid smile on your face. It was a known fact around the school how weak you were to them, and also your boyfriend.
With you both being smitten with each other, y'know?
Unknown to you though, that cat was the boy you loved, and he was soaking all the love in like a sponge. He was grinning from ear to ear, as much as a cat would be able to do, and he jumped down from where he was seated between Pandora's arms and flunged himself up towards your legs, pawing at them to make you cuddle him.
Patheatic, his inner voice said but he answered with I love her so bad....
"Well, it seems that our friend loves you very much!" She wiggled her brows playfully as you giggled, not aware of the daggers the cat, Regulus, was giving to your dear friend. Pandora didn't care though, she knew he never meant any of those stares and besides, that was exactly the moment for her to leave him with you so that he could get his head out of his arse and see how much you loved him and didn't care if he showed his love around people or not.
Because, by the state he was in, he didn't know shit about the extend of your love for him.
"Then, I will leave you with him! Don't worry he is very docile and easygoing, I'm sure you two will get along well! Goodbye!"
"Wait, Pandora- Wow, she left so soon..." you mumbled in thought as you looked down at the cat still pawing at your legs with wide blue eyes, his pupils almost so big that his eyes couldn't be seen as he meowed softly to you.
"Aww, don't worry I won't leave you! But I was going to visit my careless boyfriend who forgot to eat, again..." you kneeled on the ground with a playful scowl as you took him between your arms, cooing at the loud purr he let out as he nuzzled deeper in you. "I think he will like you too, what do you say? Hmm?"
Yeah, love, considering the fact that it's me... I think I will like myself enough...
Throughout the walk to your boyfriend's dorm, you kept the same big smile on your face as you kept looking down at the cat and squeezed his cheeks with your fingers. Cuteness agression is really something, you thought as he looked around the familiar sight of the door to his house's common room. He started to whine and get angsty a little bit, not wanting this "cuddle session" to come to an end.
"Don't worry, little one! I'm not leaving, I will sit here until Reg comes back and probably beg him to let me have you all to myself..."
He meowed in response, wincing under his breath at how this was the only way to communicate with you. Love, you already has that cat to yourself...
You smiled softly as the cat sniffed Regulus' bed and jumped on it, circling around himself until he found a good position and stared at you expectantly. You smiled back at the cat and turned your back to him to set the food down on his desk. Suddenly staring at the dark sky outside and seeing how long has it been that you last saw Regulus, you sighed sadly, wondering when he will be back and whether you should get out of his dorm before his friends arrived or not.
Sensing your sudden sadness, Regulus immediately jumped up and meowed at you hurriedly. Even as a cat, he was weak for your sadness and immediately alerted.
"Hmm? Oh nothing, little guy... Just wondering when my boyfriend will come and finally start to take care of himself." You laughed when he hissed softly and almost seemed like he was pointing at the bed. "You want me to lay down?"
A barely-there nod.
"Okay... I think I can use some rest. Scoot over..." you shuffled on the bed as its silky feeling engulfed you, resulting with you letting out a relieved sigh as the cat purred happily over your chest. You trailed a soft finger down his spine and up towards his face, your hand patting him while holding him as if he was a baby.
And he freaking loved it, loved the feeling of safety of your arms.
And obviously, when cats were happy, they purred loudly.
"Hmm? Oh, you like me? I like you too, little guy! You're so cute and so elegant with your black fur and shiny, blue eyes." Regulus purred even more loudly as he nestled on your chest, bumping his head to your chin, and neck as a way of marking you. You giggled at the cat, actually your possessive boyfriend, and continued to play with the playful cat as he made several cute moves with his body and eyes.
His behaviour surprised you, since you thought black cats were mostly grumpy and "I show affection ONLY when I want to, human." kind of animals. But this one....
This one didn't even leave your side for the whole day and instead laid on your lap, purring at every chance he had. Somewhere in a muggle book, you remembered reading that a cat's purring often touches the paternal part in one's brain and that's why humans care for them a lot.
Which was goddamn right, even if it was the same frequency of a baby crying. But though a baby's cry was often irritating with its high pitch, a cat's purr was comforting.
Another reason to convince Regulus to adopt kittens for when you left the school, and settled in an apartment as soon as possible.
"And you remind me of someone I reaaally love, y'know? I'm sure he would like to have you... Don't tell him this, but you are now my favourite thing in the world!"
Wait... Wait, wait, wait! What? That was so offensive! A cat, who you knew for a few hours, took your favourite place?!
"Meowwww!"
Nope, he couldn't let it happen! The plan wasn't even this!
"Hmm? What's wrong, did I say something bad?" You wondered as the cat you adored suddenly turned pissy, throwing what you assumed as "cat tantrums" after whatever you said that triggered him. Regulus, though, started to pace around the bed nervously. You tilted your head in confusion as the cat he jumped up and tugged on your robes to make you get up.
Yeah, cats definetly have God-complex...
"Okay, okay, fine! I'm up, I seriously don't know what... is... wrong..." your jaw hung open with your eyes wide when the black cat you adored and showed immense love to was... None other than your boyfriend.
"Regulus?"
"Hi, love..." he shyly looked at you as his hand caressed his face tiredly, tugging on the skin as he grumbled at the stinging pain on his back while trying to relieve himself from the pain. "Damn it, my spine hurts..."
"What... I don't understand, you have been the cat?! All this time?" You pointed to him with your hands in surprise, still not believing that the cat was your boyfriend who apparently learnt to become an animagus.
"Yeah, I was the cat..."
"But... why? Don't get me wrong, I'm proud of you for achieving becoming an animagus," he smiled softly at how you didn't miss the opportunity of praising him for his accomplishment, and he couldn't help but wonder at how easy it was for you to see past the fact that he hid something from you. He expected you to be angry for hiding it, but you were just... confused?
Why?
"But why did you hide it? I mean, it's a pretty big deal and your cat form was so beatiful with your little paws, soft fur and big eyes- I'm starting to loose the point of the talk, so please... explain."
He laughed when you finished your rant with a blushing face, looking at him with a flustered face as you waited. He knew you wouldn't judge, Merlin knew you never did, so he sat down on his bed and patted the area next to him.
"Because... I didn't know what else to do to show you." You continued to look at him confused for a second, occasionally side eyeing the room as if a clue would suddenly appear and lighten whatever that was going on right now.
"Well, it's only logical to show me rather than throwing random bottles on the ground... But I think you don't mean you, being a liquid-"
"Cats are not liquid, love..." Regulus sighed lovingly as you knitted your brows and playfully shook your head before laying a kiss on his cheek. "No, they are! They fit into anything possible even an asymetrical glass box!"
"When did you see a cat do that?"
"My sibling's cat... Though it could be because it is weird..."
He laughed as you seriously started to wonder whether what you said about the cat was true or not, and pulled you to himself by your shoulders. He was grateful you changed the subject after noticing he was slightly uncomfortable but...
He had to be honest after spending the whole day with you, and seeing what Pandora said about you and how much stronger your love was for him.
Because he finally knew, he didn't have to be a cat spy to show you his love.
"As much as my heart feels like it could explode with love from you noticing I was uncomfortable and tried to change the subject," you smiled bashfully as you blinked your eyes at him, not stopping him. He sighed once before keep going. " I did it to show you... how much I love you and show my affection in the only way I knew."
You would have cut him in the middle but by the slight wavering of his voice, you knew that it was something he had to get off of himself... That this conversation was important for him in every way possible.
So you listened... And with every word passing his lips, your eyes softened for the fragile and soft-hearted boy next to you.
"I never knew love, I never knew how to love and show it freely. Mom and dad saw it as a weakness, others saw it as some inconvenience... Sirius was the only one I have, and even then, he was the one expressing his feelings freely. Not me. I always did it silently... Taking care of Sirius' injuries after mother punished him or dad beat him. I did it by stealing his favourites from the kitchen or learning how to make them when my parents weren't home...."
A deep sigh, one that told many unsaid stories and feelings.
" Then I showed it with taking notes for my friends when they weren't able to attend classes. I showed it by taking care of their many injuries that definetly weren’t a result of training but rather... abuse. Merlin knows, I know those kind of bruises like the back of my hand. Then... But then, you came along with your shining eyes and wide smile, asking if you could sit with me in the train and suddenly... I-I wanted to be more. For you. I wanted to be enough of a man to deserve your love and show it to the whole world. Like my brother who openly hugged people, and kissed their cheeks or nuzzled to them... But soon, I was reminded that I would always be his shadow."
Silence scretchted between you as you continued looking at him, not being sure what to do now that he suddenly opened up about why he was avoiding you. You definetly didn't think your night would end up like this, even if him opening up to you was everything you wanted, but you would never be able to know that feeling.
Feeling like someone's shadow, having to endure what Regulus endured... Something he was grateful that never happened and would never happen now that you were with him.
You wouldn’t understand any of it, but you could be there for him now that he wouldn't be alone.
"You once asked me... 'Do you ever hide who you trully are?' at the side of the Black Lake in one of our nightly dates. I kept my silence then, didn't want to scare you off with my strong feelings since it was still too early but not for me who loved you for 2 year prior to that night, but... I never did, not with you, never with you. But... I never felt enough for you. I mean... How could someone as amazing as you would deserve the love of some coward? Someone who feared showing love?" He almost spitted the word "fear" as he shook his head in near disbelief at himself and how "ridiculous" he sounded, and you hated how much self-loathing he had and how easy it was for him to point that hatred to himself.
You had to change it, maybe not immediately but definetly in time.
"Regulus..." you softly rubbed his hand softly to make him look at you, and when he turned his head towards you... You saw the tears pooling in his ocean eyes. Your heart dropped to your stomach harshly as you gulped and brought his forehead down to meet yours. A silent move to convey your feelings to him.
"How could you not be enough of something you already have, from the very beginning?" You rubbed his cheek softly, bringing his face closer to yours as you kissed his eye-lids. As if you were scared to hurt him even more, when what all the world had been doing to him was hurting him.
Regulus shuddered as a shaky breath left him, suddenly overwhelmed by the weight of your words. He lifted his eyes, looked into your own that showed only one thing and only for him: Love.
"You are enough, even if you don't think so and I love you, I loved you from the beginning." A gasp left him as his hands thightened their hold on yours nervously. You laughed awkwardly. " You don't have to say it immediately but... Please, don't be so harsh on yourself. It's okay to not want to do PDA, I already told you.... All I care is your happiness, that's it."
And with that, Regulus threw himself all over you from the immense feeling he was feeling at that moment, hugging you with all his might as you returned to gesture just as fiercely. After all, it had been a long day and you missed your boyfriend, the one that would speak about Quidditch nonstop all the while letting you sleep on him as his hands caressed your hair and rubbed your back softly.
Just like now, with the adding of inhaling the scent of your hair deeply which made your heart race sweetly.
And now that the stress of him was now over and you knew what was going on...
It was time to tease him back.
"Did you just get jealous of a cat enough to come clean to me?" You mumbled from your position where your face was buried in his neck, the tingles making him giggle as a groan left him at feeling your smile on his skin.
"Love, please!"
"What? You are the one who was jealous!" You giggled playfully, but your enjoyment was soon cut when Regulus threw himself on his bed with his arms still wrapped around you. You landed harsher on his chest than you imagined and you were worried you accidently crushed him but his sigh of contentment and the way he nuzzled to your neck showed that he was far from being bad.
"I can't believe you now have a nuzzling habit, are you going to knead at me too?" You hit his chest softly when his eyes shot open and an evil smirk found his face.
Oh, that's not something good...
"I already did it earlier when I laid on your chest- Oww!"
"Regulus Arcturus Black, when did you have a foul mouth!" You hit him with his pillow as he laughed hard and ended up on the floor while trying to stop you.
"What can I say, love. I have the most gorgeous lover of all Hogwarts!"
That little shit and his sweet tongue, knowing how to get himself out of any problem...
"Okay, you got out of trouble for now... You are my favourite by the way, you always have been, in case your childish self got jealous of a cat..." you grumbled out when his head landed on your thighs and looked up at you innocently.
"That cat was still me though..." he looked at you through his lashes as you giggled, relishing on your words and how they made warmth spread all around his whole body.
"Yeah, yeah, sure... There is something I have to show you though. I was planning for a few days now. Promise to not get sad?" He nodded without knowing and guessing what was happening...
But the only thought that crossed Regulus' mind, when he saw you changing into a pure white cat, was I love her.
As you swinged your tail around Regulus' waiting hand and nuzzled to him, he smiled softly and scratched your head softly while patting your ears. His heart felt so full of love and he didn't remember any other day he felt this much happiness.
"You are... most certaintly the most beautiful yet also annoying person I know. Being a white cat Animagus, completely contrasting me but also creating something so beautiful? Did you think I will let go of you easily after this?"
You tilted your head teasingly and let out a purr before changing back into your human form with your feet dangling off of the bed like a little kid as you threw your head back towards him to look at his raised brows while he tried to surpass the smirk that threatened to take over his face.
"Yeah, I know... But you love me, no?" You cutely smiled as you nuzzled closer to his chest, and unknown to you, he smiled to himself like a fool as he wrapped his arms all around your body thightly when your body reached where he was now sitting on the bed.
Oh Merlin, he already does love everything about you.
"Can we... cuddle like that? As cats? It could be our new bonding activity!"
"I can't believe... Okay, fine. Don't try anything funny though."
"Like what?"
"Like the meaning of that wiggly eye-brows!"
But since you both were weak for each other, you two soon dozed off like that, one white and black cat tangled together peacefully as their hearts beated the same beat.
Not knowing that the next day, Barty would startle everyone awake and embrass you while yelling "Our Reggie found another chich, cat, kitten, whatever! He is cheating on our sweet Y/N!"
3K notes · View notes
chronically-ghosted · 3 months
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i wonder if you stopped his world like you did mine
rating: teen
pairing: frankie morales x f!reader
word count: 5K
summary: watching the woman he loves be with someone else is killing him, but for your sake, he manages. But when Benny's birthday loosens him up, he can't help but bear his soul over a phone call. Too bad you don't pick up and he's forced to leave the evidence in a voicemail.
tags/warnings: pining, light angst, idiots in love, country music as a catalyst, romance, tw alcohol, tw drinking, hangovers, ultimately very fluffy
a/n: Happy Valentine's Day @toomanystoriessolittletime! I hope you receive and give all the love you need and want! I've had this idea for a while, but once I saw that Frankie was your fave, I knew I had to do it!
one day i’m gonna do the series of all of my favorite country songs with a Pedro boy. This is one of them: Singles You Up by Jordan Davis. Had thoughts of Me and My Kind by Cody Johnson for our ever-fantastic Jack Daniels and Hurricane by Luke Combs for Joel. One day, my loves, one day. 
🤍Masterlist | Frankie Morales Masterlist
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Frankie Morales has a problem.
Given the life expectancy in his line of work – all things considered – it really wasn’t that bad of a problem. Sure, his knees were busted, his shoulder aches when it was cold out, and his ex keeps hounding him for money he doesn’t have. But on the flipside, his little family unit of friends and brothers united by combat are (mostly) all alive and healthy. He has a steady job and his little girl, whom he loves and adores, thinks the sun shines out of his ass. All things considered, there’s not much else he can ask for. He’s far better off than some of the men and women at Will’s talks, or in Santiago’s field teams. 
So – really, truly, seriously – all things considered . . .  he can’t classify this as a bad problem.
In fact, this is a problem he would willingly have. Gladly even. Not quite joyously, but if it’s a choice between this problem and not having the problem at all, he will choose having this consistent, thorny, kind-of-hurts-to-breathe-sometimes problem every single time.
And right now, it’s wearing a dress.
Uh, well, you’re wearing a dress. An off-white, hinging-on-cream, dress that sits above your knees, cuts flat and wide across your chest, and puffs out into cotton sleeves that remind him of those conchas his abuela used to make. Sweet, fluffy, and absolutely forbidden. 
Until the time is right, at least. His abuela always made him wait to eat until the time was right.
He calls it – you – a problem, when in fact, it’s the opposite of a problem. There is nothing he would ever want to change about the warm, engulfing feeling that starts somewhere in his stomach and rises like conchas up his spine until it’s somewhere in his ribs, then under his breastbone, right by his –
He would kill anyone who tried to take that feeling away from him. It’s when he feels most alive, most present, most out of his head – like these things in the dark and sleeping corners of his mind that nip and bite at him can’t find him. He’s thrown them off his scent in his search for you and, even for a brief moment, he can step into the light.
There is no problem, in how you look tonight, how you look every night, with your bright shining smile, sweet-smelling hair, cowboy boots, glass of whiskey – you had such a fantastic taste in –
Wait. 
That’s not whiskey. Not even a whiskey glass. 
That’s –
“White wine?” Benny yelps as he leans forward and his chair legs clatter against the concrete floor. “If that’s Moscato, I’m calling the cops because you’ve been replaced by an equally hot body double.”
You roll your eyes as you sit down and take a long drink from your glass, as if to make a point. Frankie’s eyes are drawn to where your dress hangs over your crossed legs, exposing the curve of your thigh. 
“It’s not fucking Moscato, Benjamin,” you say, eyes narrowed, completely side-stepping his compliment, like you always do. “It’s Chardonnay. Nick recognized the vineyard on the menu so he recommended it. Thought I’d give it a try, because I like trying something new, Benjamin.”
He rolls those beautiful blue eyes and leans forward towards you at the table, that grin that brings grown women to their knees plastered across his face. He knocks back his cowboy hat with a tap of his knuckle. 
“Well, excuse the fuck outta me.”
“The fuck outta you is excused.”
You tug his hat back down over his face, smirking back at him, just as Nick saunters over – with what looks to be a wine glass of his own. 
Okay, in hindsight, you’re not the problem. 
His real fucking problem is Nick. 
Your boyfriend. 
Frankie, who has decided to only drink beer around you since The Almost Incident, takes three long pulls so he doesn’t have to watch Nick and his stupid hands slide across your exposed back and sit down in Santi’s empty chair. 
“Happy Birthday, man, thanks for inviting me out.” Nick says briefly, raising his glass to Benny. “But I gotta say, I was a little worried when my girl here said your party was gonna be at a country dance hall. I’ve never been to one of these. I had to buy cowboy boots just for the occasion.”
He sticks his leg out, and rotates his gator-skin boot back and forth as if to illustrate how important to him this whole thing is. 
But Benny doesn’t look down, doesn’t approve the boots, or Nick’s attempt at fitting in. Instead, he just smirks, his smile growing fat and lazy, a bit of the warmth fading from his blue eyes.
“Your first time at a cowboy hoe-down? I had no idea.” 
Nick grins, because he doesn’t know Benny well enough to see the dig for what it is. But you do. You know him and you know he’s ragging on your boyfriend. You narrow your eyes and shame coats Frankie’s chest. Because he knows also Benny and he knows why he’s giving Nick such a hard time.
See, the problem isn’t you, or even your boyfriend – not really. 
Nick is actually a decent guy. He treats you right, if a little delicately, but he buys you drinks, takes you places Frankie could never afford, in a car Frankie could never ever afford. Sometimes, you’ll say something, or tell a story and it’s obvious Nick doesn’t really understand you or your jokes, but he smiles along anyway. He makes good money and supposedly he keeps in touch with his mom. Nick is the kind of guy any brother would want his sister to date.
So the problem isn’t that Nick is a bad boyfriend, but that he’s your boyfriend.
The problem that Frankie Morales has is that he is painfully, achingly, in love with you.
And he’s your friend.
Maybe that would change, if he ever could work up the guts to say something. For fuck’s sake, he’s killed people – asking you out can’t be that much worse (as Santi often reminds him). But if the guys you’re into are like Nick, or even Nick-adjacent, then what fucking chance does he have? He never thought money was important to you, but apparently it is and that’s something he definitely can’t give you.
Or maybe you like the stability of a high-paying job with fucking miraculous health-care. And that’s two things more he can’t offer: stability and health-care. 
So, maybe, maybe his problem isn’t with you or Nick or the fact that Nick is your boyfriend. It’s that he never could be. He, with one failed marriage already behind him and a coke rap sheet, has nothing to give you . . .
And you deserve the world.
You deserve more than he can offer you. You deserve better than him.
That’s his real fucking problem. And one he can't ever fix.
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Will couldn’t get off work to come to this, so he owed Benny a beer and a nice steak dinner – according to Benny. Santi, despite absolutely swearing up and down for a week he wouldn’t be caught dead in cowboy boots and a hat, showed up tonight in full gear, belt-buckle included because he lost a bet with Benny over the Thursday night game. Santi, like everything else in his life, researched the hell out of the two teams, their past history, older statistics of both the players and the coach. He was confident, so confident, that he put his pride on the line. 
Never a good idea with Benny Miller. 
I don’t know, Benny said at the sports bar when his team was whooping Santi’s team’s ass, I just had a good feeling. Presumably, Santi did three shots before leaving and with another two in his system at the bar, all anger and frustration and embarrassment and inhibition had melted away and now Santi was doing what Santi did best, especially when drunk: dancing with beautiful women.
“The son of a bitch can dance, I’ll give him that. ” Benny muses as the three of you watch Santi, who despite having been taught the moves three minutes ago by two gorgeous blondes, complete a perfect line dance of Copperhead Road. 
“Oh, shit, I could never do that.” Nick shakes his head. “Not even after a hundred classes.”
“Ah, I find that hard to believe, Nicky Boy. You seem like a natural,” Benny smirks over the lip of his beer bottle. He finds Frankie’s eyes and winks. 
You are not amused. You glare at him over Nick’s shoulder for the second time tonight. 
“It’s really not that hard,” you smile tightly and squeeze Nick’s shoulder. “I can teach you.” 
“Oh, yeah, don’t you know your girl here?” Benny leans back in his chair, balancing against the rung of Nick’s chair by the ball of his foot. “She used to put all of us to shame. Dancing the night away, leading the crowd in line dancing. In fact, if I remember correctly, she and Frankie used to get into all sorts a-trouble on the dance floor. Isn’t that right, Frankie?”
Now he drew a glare from you and Frankie. 
Don’t, man, just don’t. 
Benny shrugs, swallowing his smirk with another sip of beer, hands raised. Just trying to help out. 
Over the speakers, the song winds to a close and the crowd does their final spin. Across the dance floor, Santi bows, his hat sweeping the floor, to both of the girls who giggle like high schoolers. 
“I’m gonna go get Boot Scootin’ Boogie over there some water before he up-chucks all over those nice ladies.” Benny stands and fixes his hat. “You guys want anything?”
Frankie shakes his head, his own hat that Benny insisted he wear, making the line of sweat across his forehead itch. You and Nick decline as well. You’ve barely even touched your drink, Frankie notes with a certain level of satisfaction. 
As Benny walks towards the bar, the next song starts up and you let out a squeal. Bring on The Good Times has been one of your favorite songs since college. And Frankie should know – he introduced it to you. 
“This one is the best! A classic!” You grab Nick’s forearm, but he almost immediately pulls it back. 
“Ah, babe, my first line dance is not gonna be in front of strangers! I’ll embarrass you and me. Why don’t you ask Frankie?”
Fuck, why could Nick just be a raging, flaming asshole? This would be so much fucking easier. 
Frankie swallows his beer empty, an excuse for a refill prepped. He hates cowboy hats, but he’d fucking set fire to the sky for Benny – he just hopes he immolates himself in the process. The giant brim makes him feel like he’s got a neon sign over his head that blinks, I Am A Giant Dork. Only further proven if he gets anywhere near that dance floor with his two left feet. 
Your eyes are unreadable as he tries to coax your boyfriend into taking you dancing.
“Nah, man, you got this. Your girl’s a great teacher.” By some cowboy miracle, his voice is steady as he says those two words. On the table, your fingers curl in, your wine glass still untouched.
Nick makes a face, eyes flitting back and forth to the dancers as they start the dance.
“My feet are already killing me in these new boots. Besides, this isn’t really my song.”
Over his shoulder, you find Frankie’s eyes. He knows that look on you – he knows everything about you – and you’re trying to hide how hurt you are.
He’s on his feet before he knows what he’s doing.
You and Nick stare up at him, surprised by how he practically bounded to his feet. 
The sweat at the ring of his hat runs down the back of his neck. Frankie does the only thing halfway-normal and extends his hand.
“Alright, princesa, I’ll fill out your dance card.”
He doesn’t care, or even really register, the darkly confused frown Nick sends him when you stand up, take his hand, and smile at him. He feels warm all the way up to his chest. 
“Thanks, Frankie. Let’s boogie.” 
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That was a mistake.
This whole fucking night is a mistake. God help him, he loves Benny like a brother but he should have just said no and promised to take him out later like Will. He would have bought Benny any drink, any ridiculous chicken wing plate he wanted if Frankie didn’t have to be here, right now. 
Because right now, right now, that wall of self-control that he uses to stem the reservoir, to stem the flow of whatever you cause to pour out of him, it’s leaking. It’s busted holes and now he’s drenched with it – with the scent of you, with the memory of hair down the length of your neck, the heat of your skin overworked and flushed, the sweet taste of your breath in his mouth when you leaned forward, into his space, his senses, and whispered,
“C’mon, Frankie, you’re a better dancer than this.”
But in his defense, he couldn’t feel his feet, much less make them move when he watched you with your skirt rucked up high in your fists, your cowboy boots kicking like fish in a stream, and that smile – that fucking smile – brighter and sweeter than all the whiskey in the world. 
C’mon, Frankie, you’re a better dancer than this
C’mon, Frankie, you’re better than this.
C’mon, Frankie, tell me you love me.
Kiss me, Frankie. Kiss me now.
His restraint, his resolve that he will never, ever have you – he can feel it throb beneath his palms. Shudder and wobble under the thundering of his heart. It’s so close to breaking. Too close. This is why he doesn’t drink anything harder than beer around you. This is why he rarely drinks around you at all. 
When Nick finally calls it a night because he’s already got a blister from the new boots, you don’t put up much of a fight. You’ve danced with Benny, you’ve danced with Santi and his gaggle of girls, Nick himself went up for a slow dance or two.
Frankie only ever asked for one. 
He knows he disappointed you, has been disappointing you because you can feel him layering you away, brick by brick by brick. One of his oldest and longest friends, barely visible now, and he’s going over it with caulk to make sure you can’t touch this fragile, weak, emaciated thing he calls a heart. 
The instant you walk out of the bar, Nick’s arm across your tense shoulders, he all but rushes for the bar. 
“Six tequila shots, please.”
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You wake up where you went to sleep: curled up on your couch, your giant Florida Gators blanket wrapped around you like a mentally-supportive straight-jacket, with Golden Girls reruns on the TV. The empty bottle of 19 Crimes explains the sticky, dry feeling in your mouth and the thundering headache accompanying swollen eyes and cheeks. You’d rather get hit by a train than have to move out of this position, but Nick has always been punctual.
Which, you assume, extends to picking up his stuff from your apartment first thing in the morning, his final threat that ended your conversation last night. 
The sooner, the better, you mother fucker. 
You blindly grab around for your phone, knowing that it’s most likely shoved into the deepest cracks of your couch, hoping against hope Panera delivers on a Saturday morning. There’s a distinct possibility you might start swinging if Nick shows up before you get a baguette and a coffee into your system. 
The things he said about Benny and Santi last night on the drive home. This break up was a long time coming, but fuck, if this is what he’d been sitting on about your friends, what the fuck did he actually think of you? 
And the things he implied about Frankie – how Frankie was in love with you and you were willingly not seeing it – ridiculous.
You fight the rancid taste of hope that anything Nick implied about Frankie might even remotely be true when you close your fingers around the shape of your phone at the far end of the couch. 
22%
Just enough to order then yeet this fucking thing into another room because there is no way in hell you are answering Nick’s calls.
But, as you scroll through your notifications, maybe you should have answered Frankie’s.
He had called sporadically, starting about two hours after you and Nick had left the dance hall, all the way until four in the morning. 
One text at 1AM: com e hang out wit us.i mis s you u 
You smile, despite the obviously drunken text. Frankie rarely texted, only if it was dire need – and apparently, you continuing to party with the boys at 1AM was very, very dire. Judging by the eight missed calls.
Eight missed calls, but only one voicemail. 
Like you’re about to settle down for some good TikTok scrolling, you lean back into the pillows, rubbing your eyes to clear the hazy fog, and press play. 
First, there’s noise. Lots of it. Country music and people laughing and singing. Clearly still at the dance hall. You wish for a minute it is a video instead because you’d pay hand over fist to see those guys falling all over each other.
But then comes Santi. Over the years, you’d picked up some Spanish here and there, mostly enough not to embarrass yourself if you ever went to Miami. 
But whatever Santi is saying, you’re not entirely sure it is Spanish, or any human language. 
“Comotuamiga, teruegoqueselodigas porfavornopuedo hacerestopormucho mástiempo. Estaríasmásfeliz y ellaestaríamásfeliz. Nomemiresasí, sabesqueloúnico quequiereesqu labeses y la beses y luegohagasotrascosas – ¡Estúpido! ¿La llamaste?”
There’s a shuffling, hushed voices, the music still far too loud to make anything out.
“Déjame en paz, dude.” Frankie. Frankie, very very very drunk. “I’m gonna – I’m gonna say – voy a decirle. Ella lo sabrá. She’ll get it. I know–,”
“Then say something now because you’re leaving a voicemail!”
“Ah, mierda – um, baby?”
In two words and two filler words, Frankie’s whole demeanor changes. You can almost picture him curled around the phone, his hand cradling the phone to his ear as he rests his head against a wall. 
“Baby, listen – fuck, sorry, I’m starting all wrong. I shouldn’t even call you that – I shouldn’t call you ‘baby’ because you’re not mine. You’re not my baby or anyone else’s because you’re so fucking independent and I love that about you but I wish you were. Mine, I mean. Not a baby.”
You don’t even remember sitting up, but your feet are on the ground. You’ve dropped the phone onto the table in front of you, staring at it as if it’s been dripping poison into your ear. Your heart is pounding. 
There’s silence from Frankie for a second, the music still loud, but it’s dampened. You can hear Frankie breathing, swallow, and start again.
“You looked so fuckin’ good tonight. You look good every night but fuck, baby, that dress. I couldn’t take my eyes off you. Even for a second . . . he doesn’t tell you that you look so fucking good enough, you know? You should hear it all the time. I wanna tell you – tell you all the time – he didn’t say it once. Not once and that’s a fucking crime. He makes you drink white wine when I know you fucking hate it – I know you, baby. I know you more than I know myself because you’re all I fucking think about. You’re in here, all the time, all up in my chest, my throat, my gut – and you can have it. You can have it. You can have all of me, if you just . . .”
His voice breaks and your fingers clench around the edge of the cushion. 
“If you just . . . look, I know this is so fucking outta line and I wanna say it to your face and I’m gonna but . . . when that fuckin’ moron forgets how good he has it, I’m gonna be there. Gonna be right there. Because –,”
And then like someone shoved a speaker right up against Frankie’s phone, as clear as day, you hear Benny yell:
“IF HE AIN’T HOLDING YOU TIGHT, IF HE AIN’T TREATIN’ YOU RIGHT, I’MA BE THE FIRST ONE CALLIN’ HIM CRAAAZY–,”
“Benny, fuck off!”
And then the call drops, along with it your stomach. In fact, it slides out of your body, slouches off the couch and melts into the floor.
Oh, Frankie, do you even mean a word of it?
The hangover rubbing your nerves raw, tears spring into your eyes, the silence and fear and terrible hope tightening like a band around your head and infinitely increasing the pressure in your temples. You want to cry but your eyes already feel too puffy. 
You’re stuck, frozen by every single possible outcome or single next step spinning out like chaotic webbing you can easily catch yourself on. 
This was a mistake, it had to be. He didn’t mean to call your phone. He had accidentally called you when he meant to call another girl . . . also with a boyfriend named Nick. Frankie, sweet Frankie, who you’ve all but outright begged to take an interest in you – said it with your eyes hundreds of times – Frankie couldn’t actually have feelings for you.
Not like you had for him. Not like the ones you’ve slowly plucked out of your ribs over the years because god, even just looking at him seared a scar across your heart. 
Fuck. Fuck!
You snatch up your phone, wiping your teary eyes and frantically hoping he might have said a name or anything – he couldn’t possibly have meant you – when three loud bangs on your front door sends your phone into the air and your heart into your throat.
The way he calls your name is frantic, verging on hysterical. In a daze, you glance at the clock. 9:04. Frankie’s had about four hours of sleep, if any at all.
“Please, open the door! We gotta talk – there’s something – there’s something on your phone you shouldn’t hear – please, baby, open up –,”
You stare at the phone on your floor. 
Don’t they always say you can’t tell the moments that irrevocably change your life until after they’re gone?
Not this time.
You open the door and either way, everything changes. 
“C’mon, please, let me explain.” His voice has quieted, no longer shaking, softer as though wounded. “Just five minutes and I’m gone. I swear. We can forget the whole thing –,”
You open the door to a hungover Frankie Morales, still in the same outfit you saw him last in, but his eyes are rimmed with black circles, his patchy beard even more patchy as if he had rubbed the bristle clean off. He reeks of beer, peanuts, and cigarette smoke. His shirt is loose, wrinkled, his belt isn’t even on all the way, and he’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.
“What if I don’t want to forget it, Frankie?”
You see the realization strike him through the eyes, the throat, the chest, his gut, his brown eyes swimming with shame and horror. He leans over as if kicked and presses a hand against your doorway. His thumb rubs the corner and he swallows.
“So you listened to it already?”
“Yeah, I did.” He closes his eyes briefly, hanging his head, every apology in every language he knows sitting right behind his teeth. “But did you hear what I said?”
He frowns at you through those thick eyebrows. “What?”
“When I opened the door, did you hear what I said?”
“You said –,” that beautiful bottom lip parts from its sensual top and Frankie blinks at you. The oily blackness of shame has evaporated from his eyes, but that stormy fear rages on. 
You inhale, breath getting caught on every knot in your spine, and step back.
“We need to talk.” 
He glances once over his shoulder, as if taking in the hallway to your apartment for the last time, and he steps inside. Immediately his height and broadness fill out every empty space in your tiny living room and you’re launched back into the memory of when the boys came over for Christmas and there was hardly enough room for anyone, but somehow you all made it work and after four rounds of DDR, everyone was so tired and drunk, you passed out pillows and blankets and you spent your first adult Christmas at what could have been mistaken for a thirteen year old’s slumber party. It was one of the happiest times of your life.
His thick fingers clench and unclench when Frankie spies your phone on the floor, like a bomb waiting to go off. 
Your brain struggles to default to hostess mode because you can’t think of anything to say.
Do you want coffee?
Do you want some cereal? 
Do you want to– 
“Tell me what happened last night.” You surprise yourself, Frankie, and your whirring brain by cutting right to it. As with the first question when you opened the door to him, there’s something inside of you that has taken on wings, spread them wide, and threatens to soar out of your body. Frankie’s here, he’s here, and he said he wants you –
He called you baby.
You breathe in, trying to scrape up some courage from the bottom of your lungs, wishing in the back of your mind under everything else that you’d chosen literally anything else to go to bed in than your Tweedie Bird shirt from Six Flags. 
“I don’t understand, Frankie. Please help me understand.” 
With a monumental sigh, he rubs his wide hand across his face and up into his hair, his other hand lifting his cap up off his head so his fingers can dig into his curls. It’s only then that you realize Benny’s cowboy hat he wore last night is gone and his tried and true Standard Oil ball cap is back. Meaning he must have gone home at some point. When did he realize (or remember) that he’d left you that voicemail? 
“I’m gonna get my ass kicked,” he murmurs, eyes darting like a fox to your bedroom door. “Maybe that’s exactly what I deserve.”
“He’s not here.” This great thing arcs between you, the emptiness a presence and clarity all at the same time. 
“What do you mean? Where is he?”
“We broke up.”
“When? Why?”
“Last night, after we left the bar. We got into an argument. He doesn’t like the way . . .”
Frankie – physically, mentally, emotionally, fundamentally – overwhelms you. He’s across the room in an instant, closer than you think he’s ever been before. But maybe this is the first and only time you’ve ever allowed yourself to enjoy it. Revel in his closeness and let this caged feeling in your chest break free. You touch his chest with the flat of your palm, the size of it, the breadth of him, staggering. You literally feel weak at the knees. 
“He doesn’t like the way what?” His voice luxuriates in his throat – warm, deep. He sounds like what you imagine a hot spring feels like against your skin.
“He didn’t like the way I looked at you.” Your fingers make circles where they did into his shirt. His hands have found their way, after all this time, to your waist. “The way I always look at you, Frankie.”
His breath, subsequent to the ghost of his lips, across your forehead is so gentle it makes you close your eyes, to block out one sense to encourage another. 
You feel him swallow even though he’s a foot away from you.
“Why –,” he stops, and starts again, just like on the phone call, “why do you look at me . . . when you have him?”
“Oh, Frankie.” His grip on your waist tightens as if you’re about to disappear forever. “I took him because I can’t have you.” 
You blame the tears on the hangover, the headache, and the way he takes your chin between his thumb and knuckle. 
Grateful.
He’s looking at you, eyes soft, mouth curved into a disbelieving smile, with gratitude. 
“He’s the furthest thing from you because I tried to get you out of my system – I did – I promise. I can’t lose our friendship, Frankie, but it’s killing me . . . not having you. Nick said it was obvious the way I felt about you and that was a problem for our relationship, so he tried to make me choose between you and him and every time, without a doubt, I’ll always choose–,”
This is the right time, he supposes. 
Hand over your cheek, he holds you still in silence to press his mouth to yours. The final word of your sentence dies on his tongue, muffled by a soft groan of surprise. Your breath is terrible, your skin is oily and damp, he knows he stinks like the bottom of a wet bar, but he can’t find himself to care. Your mouth opens to take him and the hand on your cheek sinks to your neck as you both move past the initial shock of I’m finally getting to do this and you’re not pulling away and into an actual, proper, deep kiss that sends sparks into his toes. Your tongue marks the bottom of his mouth, your arms going around his neck like you want more – you need more – and Frankie pulls back.
Not only because he’s slightly dizzy but because he a) won’t fuck you for the first time on your living room floor and b) absolutely will not do it hungover. 
“Breakfast. Do you like . . . uhm, breakfast?” He can’t quite focus on a single spot on your face, eyes half-lidded and gaze blurred.
You giggle, letting his beard tickle your nose as you sneak your face into his neck. He sways a bit with you, his arms around your back, and you don’t think he’s even realizing what he’s doing.
“Yes, Frankie. I like breakfast. I eat it almost every day, in fact.”
He grunts, neck suddenly flushed, embarrassed. “Sorry, I mean –,”
“I know what you mean, baby.” You lean back and run your fingers through the thatch of curls at the back of his neck. Both of you are so grimy but you can’t care. “I’d love breakfast.”
Frankie smiles his Frankie smile and the thing in your chest is illuminated in gold. 
“How do you feel about conchas?” 
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Translations:
Como tu amiga, te ruego que se lo digas. Por favor, no puedo hacer esto por mucho más tiempo. Estarías más feliz y ella estaría más feliz. No me mires así, sabes que lo único que quiere es que la beses y la beses y luego hagas otras cosas. = As your friend, I beg you to tell her. Please, I can't do this for much longer. You would be happier and she would be happier. Don't look at me like that, you know all she wants is for you to kiss her and kiss her and then do other things.
¡Estúpido! ¿La llamaste? = Idiot! Did you call her?
Déjame en paz. Voy a decirle. Ella lo sabrá. = Leave me alone. I am going to tell her. She will know.
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huexuri · 25 days
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⊹ advantage : dom!kai x fem!reader ⊹
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NSFW, MDNI!!
warnings: bsf!kai, roommate!kai, fem!reader, dom!kai, cum denial, slight mention of nipple play, praise, degradation, fingering, size kink (bigger hands, smaller hands)
note: i just couldn't... im supposed to be on a writers block but this fancam of hyuka changed the trajectory of my life. + not proofread so sorry for any mistakes
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incorrect key. off tune. forgot to press this key. no, off beat. wrong chord.
your blood's boiling at this point, sitting in your roommate's room and in front of his keyboard; death stare piercing through those dizzying piano keys as if the inanimate object betrayed you.
"when will i get this right? ugh, stupid fingers, stupid me!!!" you clench your fist and begin to collect yourself to play again.
your pinky stretches across the keyboard to play an octave, but your your fingers are trembling over the piano keys. after all the nonstop continuous playing and aggressive slamming of fingers on kai's piano, you can't tell if you feel bad for your fingers or the poor keyboard. you let out an agitated scoff as you're barely pressing on the keys — friction being the only thing keeping your fingers barely on the edge of each key.
for some reason, an octave on the keyboard is way too wide for your fingers to press both keys simultaneously, and to you, that's embarrassing as hell. you stare dreadfully at your short, stumpy fingers that clearly isn't made to play piano. you've always wished you were rachmaninoff or something.
you slam onto kai's keyboard in frustration as you sit in the deafening silence that follows.
until, a twist of his doorknob catches you off guard when you're met with your blue haired roommate, hueningkai, his concerned eyes peering right at the keyboard as the door slowly creaked open.
"um.... everything alright? what are you doing in my room, absolutely wrecking my piano?" kai lets out a nervous chuckle, then his gaze fixates back up at yours as you fume.
"you're home so fast?" you immediately turn off his piano and stand up, cheeks flushed red and the tip of your ears glowing the same red in embarrassment.
"don't be embarrassed or anything, just asking since you have your own keyboard..." kai closes the door behind him and throws his bag onto the floor.
"yours felt better to play, i thought... but maybe i'm just the problem." you sigh, defeated, dropping back onto the chair.
"what is it though?" kai bends to reach your height and turns on the keyboard.
"might sound embarrassing, but can't reach an octave." you show him by stretching your fingers across the keyboard, the pads of your fingers barely pressing the designated keys.
"what do you mean? you can!" his chin points to your fingers.
"well, barely." you scoff again, and you're probably bothering kai with your continuously negative attitude.
"pfft... why are your fingers so short? can't relate.." kai hysterically laughs and plays an octave with barely any effort, his fingers even able to cover 2 keys over an octave.
"flexing much.." you cross your arms and roll your eyes. "i'm so awfully jealous. can't do anything at this point, my hands are like, useless."
"i'm just better!" kai cockily shrugs as he goes on to play a piece full with scales and octaves like it's nothing.
"don't act like you're superior... you just have an advantage of having longer fingers." you look back up at him, sneering.
"wanna give me attitude? well i bet you can't even finger yourself and make it feel good. are your measly fingers shaking already?" kai laughs teasingly, and he's coming back at you with the humor of a 14 year old developing teen.
he's sounding really fucking cocky right now, but even that stupid comment had a tinge of degradation in it and damn... it was kinda hot. no, really hot.
"okay, you help then! yapping as if you can make me feel better, i doubt it." you snap back at him, trying to ignore the heat on your cheeks returning back once again.
"you doubt it? do i have to prove it to you?" kai responds, and you go quiet immediately.
"well?" you sweep imaginary dirt off of your pants as you hurry to walk out of that room. "think about it then." you nervously snap back as a last attempt to return the attitude.
in a blink of an eye, you're gone from the scene, leaving kai in his room, barely processing what just happened, upper teeth digging into his lower lip as your last few words ring in his head. "what do you mean think about it....?" he murmurs.
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you probably forgot about that conversation as you woke up, because it didn't occur to you that in the midst of scrolling on tiktok, you'd receive a notification from kai, asking you to go over to his room when he could just come out and ask you. despite the suspicion of it all, you drag yourself from the sofa to his room. what could he possibly want from you at 2pm in the afternoon? you swear if he's going to tell you some stupid ass dad joke you'll actually eat him alive.
"whatcha want?" you enter his room, the coldness of his air conditioned room immediately slamming you in the face, feeling like you're suddenly in antarctica.
kai puts down his headphones and his gaze follows you the more you walk. you look at him, a mix of a concerned and disturbed expression.
"whaaattt?" you giggle.
"about... that thing you said yesterday..." kai hesitantly says as he stands up from his chair, and onto his bed. he taps a spot next to him, indicating for you to sit.
you put down your phone next to his headphones on the table and sit down, clearly confused. "yeah, what about it?"
"i thought about it for a bit after you left. i mean ... if you're being serious...?" kai tries approaching the topic, trying to sound the least like a pervert as possible.
"oh—um," you gulp, and he's on the verge of spitting out apologies for ever bringing it up.
"no, well, uh, i don't see a problem?" you start to rethink your life choices; are you really going to let your boy best friend of years to finger you? just to prove a stupid point in a childish argument?
"i do wanna prove to you, wanna... show you that i'm actually good." he hesitantly blurts out.
"you've never tried, have you?" you laughed at his confidence.
"might sound weird as hell, but i've been watching porn solely for the purpose of knowing how to finger someone. it was supposed to be a stupid joke between my homies, but i think i'm really not that bad. well, i never know until i try, and yesterday when you said that... um, i thought of it as the perfect opportunity. i really do want to make you feel good and prove you wrong." kai rambles, muttering in between his words like a shameful perv.
"calm down," you reassured him. "show me what you've learned."
with a grin, he positions himself to sit on the bed against a wall and invites you to sit in between his legs.
you don't hesitate to do so; sliding your loose dolphin shorts off of you and sitting against him in a way that your back presses against his chest and your legs rest comfortably spread onto his. your hips are tilted so that your clothed pussy is exposed to the cold air of his room.
looking up at him as you fondle with your clothed tits gently, you could see the want in his eyes and his hands would travel to hold your waist from behind and up, under your shirt to grasp at your braless breasts. his bigger hands cupping your breasts really do feel different and way more warm and arousing. his eyes roll back as he flicks his calloused fingers over your delicate buds.
"they're so nice..." kai pants, and you feel an obnoxious bulge grow hard against your plush ass.
"damn, i can feel you already." you subtly grind against him and his lips slightly part to take in a breath that was caught up in his throat once he felt you move against him.
"how do you expect me to not be hard?" kai giggles and his hands start traveling up towards your face to cup it. he lifts your head to twist slightly in his direction, and he kisses you. you can taste the minty gum he always has a habit of chewing every second of the day.
"you're seriously chewing gum at this moment? typical kai .." you scoff and peck at his lips before grabbing his hand towards your core.
his hands move by themselves to start rubbing you over the thin cloth, and you've already soaked his fingers with your slick.
"complaining that i'm hard already but you're already this soaked? i haven't done anything yet..." he rubs you harder, and you squirm beneath him. you can feel his grin against your head.
"w-wasn't complaining, mm.." your back arches away from his chest and your nipples perk up so visibly over that baggy shirt. the sight alone makes him so worked up, he's always had a thing for your plush tits, ass, tummy, everything.
he pushes your panties aside to expose you raw to the cold air and you jolt slightly at that.
"my god, you're drenched. so fucking soaked, more than i thought you were." kai coos as he spreads your slick all over your pussy, applying the perfect amount of pressure on your clit for you to be throwing your head back onto his shoulder as your jaw drops slightly agape.
"don't talk like that, gonna make me wetter." you mutter out, so soft and needy it's almost impossible not to miss. but kai catches it, and he only chuckles under his breath, vibrations traveling through the top of your head, resonating throughout you.
kai plays around with the slick on your pussy, enjoying the moist sounds that it creates as he swirls it and taps it against your folds, almost forgetting that you're almost on the verge of cumming at this point from how he's just flicking around.
"gonna cum, please, let me cum. i've been throbbing since you touched my tits, p-please?" you beg. but kai shows no mercy, and immediately without warning—
"fuck!" you yelp, his middle finger now entirely up you as kai chuckles, unnerved. his single finger feels like two of yours.
"hold it for a bit, can you?" kai lowers his gaze at yours when you look up at him, teary-eyed.
you clutch at his thighs in response.
he slowly thrusts his finger in and out of you. "you're so worked up over my single finger, what if i insert another?"
"no, a-am not,," you deny.
"oh?" kai sneaks another finger up you, filling you completely. "you're so fucking tight, it's cute. so wet and you still manage to be so tight." he whispers, and you whine under him.
you were never ready for when he would thrust in and out of you at an increasing pace, and god knows what you were going to do when he curls both his fingers deep inside you. but oh, he does.
he kisses you on the crown of your head, curling his fingers to prod at the spongy spot inside of you, pulling a cry from your lips as lewd sounds begin to fill the air; loud and wet. his lips capture yours in a kiss as you grasp his other hand, guiding his fingers back where you want them — under your shirt.
"fuck, oh my god,, k-kai.. you..." you murmur uncontrollably as you grip on his thigh with strength you never knew you had.
"oh yeah? am i not better? then why are you squirming against me and moaning my name so loudly? why are your nails digging into my thighs? clenching around me like you don't want me to let go," he teases, his chin resting on the crown of your head, looking down at you with a grin. "huh? huh? fuck, doesn't it feel better? say it!" the pad of his fingers grasp on your breasts as he finger fucks you with speed that feel like the speed of light. you're so dazed in the head you feel high and you don't even know if you're saying the correct words.
"mmfff—fuck, better, better, hnggg~!" your eyebrows furrow as your hips jitter uncontrollably, clit so swollen it's dizzying. you feel intoxicated and your brain is barely processing your surroundings anymore, but as you reach your high, you can't even address that you're going to cum, the only indicator is of your moans becoming louder and breaking more and more.
"what's better? say it properly, hm?" kai continues to tease as his fingers curl up into your gummy walls at indescribable speeds, fingers so skilled you feel like you just passed out.
"you're, aaah—hhngg~ c-can't, say anything,, fuck, fuck—!" you're not even aware of what's rolling off of your tongue anymore. maybe barely, but all your consciousness is probably clouded somewhere above your head. eyes rolling so far back your skull that you start to see stars.
then, it fades white — and you can feel yourself release all over kai's poor fingers and poor bedsheets that will probably smell obnoxiously like you afterwards.
it feels as if your heart is pumping 200 beats per minute and as you come back to your senses, you can feel kai pampering you with kisses all over your head and his signature comforting tummy rubs as he pulls back your panties in its place. the deafening white noise inside your head starts to tone down and it fades to kai, showering you in praises and reassuring words, telling you you did such a good job and so on.
“what a pretty girl… such a good girl for me, handling all this so perfectly.” kai returns to his usual comforting and soft tone.
“i'll finally admit.. you made me feel better than any time i've ever played with myself.” you sigh in defeat, and kai smiles.
“though, that boner beneath me never went away huh?” you turn back, and kai's grin changes almost instantly into a needy one.
“well, if that's the case, i think i deserve your help.” kai states.
“i think so too.” you giggle as you get up from your position to face his achingly hard boner.
the rest of the day was like no other, and at the end of the day… both of you are confident that kai is significantly better at playing the piano than you are. and better at fingering you, obviously.
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keypaa · 2 months
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Astrology Observations No.5 🧛🏻‍♀️💋🖤👻
(+ a bit creepy stuff)
I use the whole sign system
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Uranus opposition Ascendant & strangers talking to you all of a sudden in unexpected ways and places
Mars in 8th house get attacked by spirits often (sleep paralysis, seeing shadows, feeling presences) in many places you go to
!Sensitive topic¡
Astroid Medusa (149) in strong aspects (usually squares) with the north node/southnode + pluto indicate r*pe. I saw it in two of my friends chart. The north node can be seen as destiny. Even if you don't have this aspect and still went through this i love you you are never alone ❣︎
Scorpio ascendants attract a whole bunch of creeps trust your gut and keep it safe people always pay attention to what you are doing you just need to look closer
Lilith in the 10th house and females being annoyed of their presence in the work place. Usually also attract a whole bunch of jealousy in school, uni or at work. Michele Avil that was murdered by her best friend because of jealousy had this placement
Moon in Scorpio hate not having control they know how to (atleast try) to get someone to do something. Positive note good investigators who would make great psychologists, detectives and so on
So well if you have a bunch of 1st house, 8th house or 12th house placements in planets like venus, mars, moon or lilith you are more prone to attract stalkers atleast once in your life KEEP IT SAFE and I mean it¡! And by stalkers I also mean people who do a whole bunch of research on you and your life or keep following you obsessively on social media.
Don't leak unnecessary information about you and try to not go to quite places alone where no one could find you if something would happen.
Lilith in leo are feared by females loved by men
Venus in 10th house don't tell anyone about your love life trust me even tho people always find things to say and spread rumors about. You will publicly be known for what is happening in your love life.
Moon in aries need to be feared, if introverted it takes long to see their anger but most aries moons show ther anger explosively nevertheless they cool down rather quickly, loyal to their loved ones tho
Don't fuxk with leo venus friends they take care of them like a lion mother, dedicated
Venus in capricorn always have enemys
Masculines with libra placements always fall for people who don't love them the same way/or for absolutely toxic & crazzzy people
Lilith in the 22nd degree are necrophilists. Just look at Richard Ramirez chart, he loved s*x with the dead.
According to Ian Altosaar the 22nd degree is about murder and I combined this information with liliths nature, hidden desire. 👻Ps: Most necrophilists are men not always but almost all the time https://ijop.net/index.php/mlu/article/download/734/688/1339 or on Wikipedia (not so reliable source but says that about 92% are men)
Virgo placements get underratedly sexualised a whole lot. The biggest p*rn star right now has virgo placements. Also virgo liliths can be se*ualised
Pisces moons had a time of their life where they cried a lot or still are very emotional (nothing bad). Other than that they can be dangerously manipulative if they want to and feel every slight difference in someones behavior
Aquarius ascendants and loving colorful clothing
Juno (3) in aries and rooting for ambitious people that behave masculine in a loving manner (romantically)
Juno (3) in aquarius want a partner that sticks out from the masses
Mercury in sagittarius have a special voice
Pholus (astroid) shows you what transformed you the most in your life:
1st hous/Aries: You yourself/sports caused a transformation in your life
2st house/Taurus: Your financial situation changed you
3rd house/Gemini: The area where you live in (hood) affected you, or off topic your car/drivers license
4rd house/Cancer: Your home life, emotions or femininity
5th house/Leo: Creative skills of yours or recognition transformed you
6th house/Virgo: Routine or your health/hygiene plays/played a crucial role in your life
7th house/Libra: Your love life/ or glow up affected your life view
8th house/Scorpio: Deaths, paranormal stuff, operations, accidents and your sexuality transformed your way of dealing with life
9th house/ Saggitarius: Other cultures, traveling and your ancestors trigger something in you
10th house/Capricorn: Your work, work environment and accomplishments changed you
11th house/Aquarius: Humanitarian topics, technology and friends started your transformation journey
12th house/Pisces: Religion, spirituality & plastic surgerys may have affected your journey of developing your sense of self
Luvvv muah
3:18 PM
555
© 2024 the content is subject to the copyright and responsibility of the author
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heartss4val · 9 months
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but i love her !
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summary: to say that leo valdez is absolutely enamored with you would be an understatement. so, why don't you like him back?
pairing: leo valdez x fem!reader
word count: 2.3k
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LEO VALDEZ does not just like you. no, it is much more than that.
leo's feelings for you surpass mere affection. his love for you is deep-rooted and unshakable, transcending the limitations of the heart and mind. he doesn't just love you with his heart, which can falter or stop altogether. nor does he solely love you with his mind, which may fail him one day. no, leo valdez loves you with every fiber of his being, every inch of his soul, and every essence of his existence. his love for you is all-encompassing, unequivocal, and forever enduring.
so why don't you like him back?
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when you first arrived at camp, leo was immediately taken with you. while he had a reputation for falling for girls completely out of his league, this time was different. he knew deep down that he would do anything for you, even if it meant risking his own life. he couldn't pinpoint the exact moment he realized this, but he was sure that you were the one he was meant to be with. despite piper's concerns, leo was undeterred in his pursuit of you.
as you sat at your usual table in the dining pavilion, enjoying dinner with your cabinmates, you were completely immersed in the moment. laughter filled the air as you chatted about your day and shared stories of past quests. just as you took a bite of your dinner, you heard your name being called out loudly and persistently. turning your head in the direction of the voice, you found leo standing right in front of your table. as you tried to recall any previous interactions with him, confusion washed over you. you've only ever spoken to the boy about a grand total of once, and you don't even remember giving him your name.
leo slipped into the empty seat next to you, his smile beaming as he waited for your reaction. gasps escaped the mouths of several of your cabinmates, because, well, isn't it forbidden to sit at another god's table?
“sooo, is this seat taken?” he asked suavely, and you mentally rolled your eyes at his attempt at charm, knowing exactly where this was going.
"well, it wouldn't matter if it's taken or not, because you aren't supposed to be sitting here in the first place."
he only smiled dreamily, seemingly unfazed by your response. the tension in the air grew thicker, and someone let out a snort, unable to contain their amusement at the situation.
it took you a moment to piece together what was happening. leo's sudden changes in behavior around you, the not-so-subtle glances, the smiles, and the way his eyes would light up - it all made sense now, although you didn't want to admit it. leo valdez had a crush on you, and there was nothing you could do about it.
leo leaned forward on the table, his chin resting on his hand. he was brimming with enthusiasm, and you couldn't help but feel just slightly uncomfortable in his presence. "can i ask you something?" he inquired eagerly, his eyes fixed on you.
you sighed inwardly, not wanting to engage but feeling obligated to respond. "do i have a choice?" you quipped, attempting to mask your discomfort. leo didn't seem to notice, too caught up in his own enthusiasm.
suddenly, he pulled out a metal rose from his pocket, presenting it to you with a flourish. "wanna be my girlfriend?" he asked, a hopeful expression on his face.
your siblings snickered around you as your eyes widened in absolute horror. your face felt hot with embarrassment as you struggled to maintain your composure.
"i practically just met you!" you protested, feeling the need to state the obvious.
he had clearly anticipated a different response, going so far as to prepare a metal bouquet in anticipation of impressing you. however, his efforts were in vain. "i'm sorry, but no." you replied firmly, not giving him any room for negotiation.
it was clear that this was not a successful attempt at romance.
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from that day on, it had become the norm for leo to actively pursue you, as he had made it his mission to win your heart. you couldn't deny that he put in a great deal of effort. and he was plenty consistent. for months.
you couldn't help but notice his constant presence, as he seemed to magically appear everywhere you went, making it impossible for you to ignore him.
despite his persistent efforts, leo never pressured you into anything you were not comfortable with. he respected your boundaries and always made sure that he did not cause you any discomfort. it was clear that he adored you, but he never allowed his feelings to dictate his actions towards you.
interestingly enough, it was the reason behind your initial hatred for leo that began to fade away. unfortunately for you, once that seed of doubt was planted, there was no going back. you found yourself unable to justify your previous animosity towards him, in fact, you began to feel guilty for the ill feelings you harbored towards the boy.
after leo's clumsy attempts at asking you out, things became quite awkward between the two of you. you did everything in your power to avoid him, convincing yourself that you loathed him. however, despite your best efforts to push him away, the universe seemed to conspire to bring the two of you together. in fact, you even found yourselves forming an unlikely bond that some might even consider a friendship. leo would somehow magically appear in the same places you happened to be (though he always insisted it was a coincidence), and you found yourself unable to shoo him away as you used to do. yet, despite this newfound closeness, leo's attempts to win your heart remained as elaborate and over-the-top as ever.
from writing your name in fire surrounded by a heart, to asking you out with grand gestures and signs, he never seemed to give up. unfortunately for him, all of his efforts were met with either an indifferent stare or a frown.
maybe your feelings towards leo had changed somewhat, but that did not make him any less unbearable.
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"i just don't get it!" leo complained to piper during free time that day. "i thought me and y/n were making progress, but today she didn't even look at me!"
piper paused from sharpening her dagger and looked up at leo. "what makes you think you were making progress?"
"she let me sit next to her yesterday."
piper couldn't help but let out a laugh, quickly covering it up with a cough. "that was for like two minutes," she scoffed.
leo's face fell. "but i swear i saw her wink at me a few days ago!" he protested.
"she was only blinking in your general direction."
leo mock-glared at the girl. "seriously, you're like an aphrodite kid, aren't you supposed to know this stuff?"
piper rolled her eyes. "shut up. okay, but seriously, come on. think about it. leo, you tend to get infatuated easily and your crushes never last. it's inconsistent. she probably thinks your feelings for her will change once you find someone new."
leo took a step back, not expecting her answer. "but that's not gonna happen!" he retorted, eyes wide with exasperation. "i love her, i swear!"
"prove it to her then." piper responded, running her fingers through her choppy locks. "go find her and prove it."
and that's exactly what he was going to do.
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it's been days since you last saw leo. the usual sight of him following you around, asking to hold your tote bag, or just plain flirting with you is now a distant memory. your tote bag, which he usually holds for you, is now slipping off your shoulder as you sit alone with a feeling of emptiness. you've only seen him run in and out of the workshop, waving at you with the same fire in his eyes but not speaking to you. you keep looking for his head of curly hair everywhere you go, but the inevitable disappointment strikes you every time it isn't him.
although you had been trying to deny it, the truth was that you missed leo terribly. despite his occasional obnoxious flirtations, he was actually quite easy to be around — even more than that, even. maybe you had developed feelings for him that ran much deeper than you ever anticipated. you've been grappling with your emotions for quite some time now, and you were certain that your mask of indifference had already slipped off without your knowledge. you slumped against the wall you were leaning on, feeling the weight of your emotions.
if leo were here, he would have moved you to somewhere you could sit more comfortably, instead of a damn wall. if leo were here, he would have taken your tote bag off your shoulder already, making sure you were not burdened with anything. the absence of his presence now makes you realize just how much he meant to you and how much you miss him.
you pushed yourself off the wall you were leaning against, making your way back to your cabin to sulk, when it happened.
you spotted leo approaching you. his strides were large and purposeful, and you could practically see the determination in his eyes. you could tell he had just emerged from the workshop, his face smeared with soot, but that didn't seem to bother him at all. before you could even react, he had his arms on your shoulders, shaking his head as he gasped for breath, clearly winded from whatever he had been up to. "i've been looking for you everywhere," he said urgently, not giving you a chance to respond.
"okay, look. you know i like you, y/n. you're not like anyone else i've ever met. you're kind, and smart, and funny, and beautiful. and i know that sounds like a lot of flattery, but it's true. i don't think i've ever met anyone who makes me feel the way you do. you make me feel alive, and happy, and.. stuff. and i don't wanna lose that. don't wanna lose you."
he took a deep breath, then continued, "i'm not going to pretend that it was always you, because i've liked other girls before, when i didn't really know what liking someone meant. what i felt for them is not even comparable to what i feel for you right now. it hasn't always been you, but from now on it will."
"i can tell you feel the same way too, even if you try to hide it. you always have a little grin on your face when i come around, and i know you still keep all the things i made for you in your cabin, even though you act like you don't care. but i get it, you're scared. that's okay. i'll prove to you that there's nothing to be afraid of. i'll be devoted and take on more responsibility, because you inspire me to try harder. if you could just give me one chance."
he took a couple steps closer, reaching for your hand, and intertwining his fingers with yours when you didn't pull away. looking deeply into your eyes, he adjusted his grip, his crooked grin indicating that he had rehearsed what he was about to say.
"i guess what i'm trying to say is..." he trailed off, and then pulled out a metal rose from his pocket, just like the one he had given you when he first asked you out. however, this one was special, its intricate patterns reflecting everything that reminded him of you.
"wanna be my girlfriend?" he asked, just like he had all those months ago.
you didn't even hesitate, you just pulled him in by the fabric of his shirt and slotted his lips with yours into a long-awaited, giddy kiss.
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a/n
ookaayyy it's been a while since i've read the books so leo may be a slightly ooc here?? or not?? y'all i don't know i'm trying. 😭😭
xx val
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spacedace · 1 month
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“Hey, I need to get married for bullshit Infinite Realms reasons, you two in?”
“Tt, of course.”
“Sure thing! Do we need to get going for that like, right now? Or later?”
“Eh, like in a couple of hours? The Observants are demanding some Royal Ball or something and they pulled out some stupid old laws out of their collective asses that if I’m not married by the time it starts they can assign me spouses of their choosing, can you fucking believe that shit?”
“Woah, what the hell? Can they even do that?”
“I was under the impression they were only permitted to observe.”
“Right? It’s total crap, but apparently there’s like this super old law on the books and they didn’t bring it up until now when there’s like no time left to try and force me to marry someone they pick.”
“They are training to gain influence over you?”
“Eh, more like they’re trying to get control of my Dad by way of me. But still fucked as hell.”
“So why do you need to marry both of us? Or do you just need to marry one of us and we should play rock paper scissor for it?”
“Technically I only need to marry one of you, but I don’t want them pulling out any loopholes or something. So, it’d be great if one of you could be my consort for my role as Queen of Mirrors, and one could be my consort for my role as Crown Princess. You two can figure who’s who on that all that, I’m good with whatever.”
“Oooh, can I be consort for the Mirror Court? I can annoy Kon more that way.”
“I am amenable to that. Grandfather will have a fit when he learns that I can cut his access to the Pits off at my discretion and there’s nothing he can do about it.”
“Awesome, okay are you two good for meeting up at like, three? We can pop over to my Lair and get everything sorted out there.”
“Works for me, my only class til this afternoon is at one and the professor already said we’re cutting out early because she has to go out of town this weekend.”
“Four would be more agreeable if possible, I have to take Titus to the vet for his checkup.”
“Okay let’s aim for four then. It’s just signing some paperwork, making some quick blood-slash-ectoplasm pacts and swearing a couple binding oaths… Should only take like five or ten minutes?”
“They’re not gonna make you have a huge royal wedding or anything?”
“Nah. Dad keeps things pretty chill so as long as the paperwork is all in order we’ll be good. Though once Auntie Dorathea finds out she’s absolutely gonna make us have one. She loves planning weddings. Swear its what she makes her hoard out of somehow.”
“So long as we have a say in some of the proceedings I have no issue with that eventuality.”
“Same, it sounds like it’d be a fun way to annoy the Observants even more.”
“Don’t for get all the weirdos trying to be my suitors and all that bullshit.”
“We have an accord then. We can reconvene at the usual place.”
“Awesome, you two are the best! I gotta jet and let everyone know and get the ball rolling on the paperwork stuff. See you guys at four!”
With that, Nomad - Stella Phantom, Crown Princess of the Infinite Realms, Queen of Mirrors, Core of the Speedforce and ghostly hero of the Titans and the Justice League - tore a rip in the fabric of space and time and darted out of the room the same way she came. Through the mind-bending tear in reality the eerie, eye-searing green of the Infinite Realms glowed in all its unsettling glory, Phantom Keep a glittering expanse of night sky made solid in the distance.
Jon waved at her cheerfully as Damian gave a nod of farewell before both silently turned their attention back to their respective tablets as the portal closed behind their friend and teammate and the glimpse of the Ghost Zone disappeared again. Completely unbothered by the conversation just held or the life changing implications that came with them.
Jon was humming as he tapped away at something on the screen before him, Damian propping his head up on his fist in vague boredom as he frowned down at the information he was reading.
The rest of the room Nomad had left behind was caught in a frozen, stunned silence in the wake of the baffling conversation they’d all just been witness to. All eyes in the room darted between Flamebird and Pheonix seated calmly at the end of the table, then to the space where Nomad had disappeared to, back to the young men, and then towards the head of the table where Superman and Batman sat looking bewildered and a bit on the verge of heart attacks.
The short status update meeting was about to become much, much longer it seemed.
Though a lot more entertaining.
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kumawaii · 4 months
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SWEETHEART | LSM
cw - yandere themes, possessiveness, toxic behaviors, mentions of blackmail, unprotected sex, riding, recording, creampie
— this is my first request! hope you like it my dear anon!
∘₊✧─── 𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻𝓼 𝓭𝓸 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽 ───✧₊∘
bestie!seokmin is an absolute sweetheart. he lives to make people happy, and you’re no exception. it’s so common, that you often feel bad for monopolizing his time. he always assures you that he wouldn’t have it any other way, and that’s enough to make any potential guilt vanish. which is good because your best friend hates to see you upset.
you don’t think anything of bestie!seokmin always following you around. he’s like a breath of fresh air and a burst of sunshine rolled up into a tall, handsome package. you two being attached by the hip is nothing new. you’re so used to it that you can’t really remember a time when it wasn’t like that.
it’s comforting having bestie!seokmin by your side. he’s the one guy who’s never let you down, and probably never will.
things never change between you two. even when you get a boyfriend everything remains the same. it’s odd, though. bestie!seokmin isn’t a fan of your new man despite him liking everyone. he’s still polite, ever the sweetheart you know him to be. which you’re grateful for. none of your relationships ever seem to last lately, so you hoped this time is different.
what you don’t know is that bestie!seokmin has no intentions of letting that happen. he’s been successful in undermining your other relationships and eventually ruining them, and this time will be no different. it’s hard at first because your new boyfriend is by far the most decent one out of the bunch of losers you brought around. but that doesn’t matter. he’s not right for you, and he’s going to prove it.
“why don’t you like him?” you ask, not liking that one of the most important people in your life doesn’t like your boyfriend.
seokmin is good at hiding the bitterness he feels. a small soft smile lifts his lips as he looks at you. “honestly? i don’t like his vibe. there’s something off about him.”
bestie!seokmin pulls you into a hug when you visibly deflate at his words. he apologizes into your hair, rubbing comforting circles on your back. instead of listing off all the reasons you should leave that loser behind, he tells you to be careful. after all, guys are pigs.
it takes a bit of time, but eventually the plan set in motion comes to fruition. it’s sunday night, aka your and bestie!seokmin’s movie night. you’re cuddled into his side when you get a notification. as soon as you look at it, your stomach drops. it’s a hey girlie… text from an unknown number with an attachment to accompany it. with trembling fingers, you open it.
as always, bestie!seokmin is there to comfort you when the image is revealed to be your boyfriend at some sleazy party. that scum had lied and said he was staying in to study for an upcoming exam. instead he was getting drunk with some girl in his lap practically dry humping him. it’s very easy for you to send him a breakup text seconds after you watch the video.
you cry into bestie!seokmin’s chest not knowing how bittersweet he feels. on one hand, blackmailing his ex into setting up your now ex boyfriend worked perfectly. however, now he’s left with your heart ache which he fucking hates. wasting your tears on such a worthless guy isn’t right, and he lets you know that.
“i-i just wish i could make him feel as bad as i do.”
seokmin tries not to sound too eager as he says his next words. “you can.”
you can’t regret listening to bestie!seokmin’s advice. he was right from the beginning, and he was right now. slowly sinking down on his thick cock feels so fucking good that you can’t even think of the idiot who lied to you. even with your camera pointing at your naked bodies, all you can think about is seokmin and his big cock.
“fuck, angel.” seokmin moans gutturally as he tosses his head back on the couch. “you feel so fucking good.”
you moan along with him as soon as you sink down all the way. he’s balls deep inside you, and you’ve never felt better. bestie!seokmin lifts his head and looks at you like you’ve hung the stars in the sky. it makes your heart jerk as you lean forward to capture his lips. the kiss is sloppy and needy. you swallow each other’s moans as you slowly start grinding your hips.
his dick is so big that you can feel him in your stomach. your pace is slow, but you already feel like you’re on the verge of cumming. the camera is doing an excellent job at capturing the erotic sight of your juices dripping down bestie!seokmin’s cock. it drips down to his heavy balls, and it makes something in the two of you snap.
“fuck my cock, baby.” seokmin urges you, groaning when you start bouncing eagerly on his dick. “that’s it. use me.”
his words sound so desperate and needy that you feel your pussy drip with more arousal. you’re moaning loudly and wantonly as you use his cock like a personal fucktoy. the coil in your stomach is close to snapping, especially when bestie!seokmin brings his hand up to play with your bouncing tits.
you’ve never been so turned on. all your senses are invaded by the carnal haze of sex — the harsh sound of skin slapping, the lewd squelching, and the filthy moans mixing in together. bestie!seokmin can only moan about how tight your pretty pussy feels as he’s consumed by the same dizzying sensation. he’s slowly losing his mind, and he’s loving every second of it.
“your dick is so big!” you cry out when seokmin starts to meet your movements with sharp thrusts. he’s slamming his fat tip against the most sensitive part inside you, and it’s not long before you’re covering his dick with your orgasm.
your moans turn into loud cries of ecstasy when seokmin’s big hands slide down your body to grab your ass. he kneads it roughly as he helps you bounce on his cock while fucking up into your sweet little cunt. you’re a naked goddess on top of him, and he knows he’ll never be able to let you go after this. by the way your pussy keeps clenching around him, you feel the same way.
“cum inside me!” you mewl, eager to feel him stuff you full.
bestie!seokmin smirks into the camera before he gives you what you want, knowing your idiot ex boyfriend is going to watch as he stuffs you full of his cum. he keeps fucking it into you until you’re nothing more than a whimpering mess. he spreads your ass cheeks as his cock slowly pops out of you, making sure your phone captures your tight little hole leaking with his cum.
you lay on his chest for a moment before you slowly lift your head up, mouth messily covering his once again. there’s no room for any guilt. not even as bestie!seokmin sends the filthy video to your ex. it’s the best revenge. especially because now it’s official that only he can have you in such a way.
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thatsdemko · 2 months
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better than it was - f1 grid
previous part (secret Santa) | masterlist
pairings: f1 grid x driver!fem!reader | warnings: NOT intended for minors + mentions of fingering (f receiving) + angst(ish)
a/n: the long awaited part 2 is finally here. enjoy!!!
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it’s poor behavior to talk about this with Daniel. but he’s the only emotionally intelligent person left on the grid and he’s seemed to pick up your agitations.
“three months? you know, I can check that out for you—“
you place your hands hard against his shoulder and shove him into the wall, “this is not funny! my sex life is not a joke.” you growl in his direction.
Daniel was not the person to consult. he was a talker at heart and a gossiper. he wiggles his way into the drama, and exits before you can even have a last breath.
so leave it to him to reorganize the secret Santa cards and perfectly place your name into his hands. the two people under a serious dry spell that could make the desert laughable.
“so he set us up?” you stare blankly into the ocean blue eyes in front of you. his pink plump lips are covered in salt from the rim of his margarita.
“I didn’t know until last week. Lando talks too you know?”
lando. all night you’d consulted in him and he was riding right along on this plan. he knew for a fact he’d show up, even when you doubted. every time you pondered the hand writing or the meaning of the gift, lando stood right there with a faint smirk and evil laughter track in his head.
“I’m stupid to think you’d actually have the brains to do all this.”
he gasps, sarcastically placing a hand against his chest, “I have you know all the things said in the card were true. I’m offering you a special gift.”
rolling your eyes you take a sip of his margarita and place it back on the coaster, “it’s still no. I can’t have sex with you.”
“with me?” he seems appalled and you know he’s not faking this. there’s nothing wrong with him. he’s absolutely perfect, and the rumors that circle around about him scream fuckboy. so why should you even do it? all it will end up being is bad press.
and if the news ever got out that you two—rivaled drivers to be specific—were having a secret affair? you cannot imagine that no amount of damage control and PR training could save you two from this wreck.
its risky behavior, to be with him right now, but the dim lighting and closed down bar you’re in help hide yourselves to the world.
“you cannot be serious. you don’t know what’s said about you? I’ll have you know, women talk.” you scoff downing the last drops of tequila and sugar before sending the glass at the edge of the table.
“but this is different.” he corrects you, “we can fix each others problems.” he adds hoping to change the look on your face that screams of terror and fear. you know hooking up with him was a bad idea, but why’d it have to feel so good? why’d the sex in the back seat of his car make your body scream in ways it hasn’t before. why’d it have to be so attractive to hear him say your name when you sucked his cock? why’d all of this have to be so good yet so bad?
FEBRUARY 2024
it’s been three months…again.
it’d been three months since the best mind blowing back seat sex you’ve ever had. and now you’re back where this all lead you before. in a dry spell.
it didn’t help that preseason testing was around the corner, and Bahrain was just as dry and overheated as you were.
you stayed in your teams garage whenever you had the chance. you didn’t dare watch his car fly down the straights and turns of the track, and you didn’t dare wait up for him at night.
you were back to how things were before, just friendly.
however it felt irritating to him. to see that race suit hang against your hips, the fireproof show off every curve of your body. it pained him to watch you just walk off.
“you’re having problems again.” Lando announces, his voice startling you that you nearly lose your page in your book before tossing it aside on your bed.
“what are you talking about?”
“you never told me about December.” he redirects the conversation, seating himself on the edge of your hotel bed, “you always tell me this stuff.”
“not after I found out you were meddling this situation do I tell you this stuff.”
a blush covers his cheeks as he nervously scratches the back of his neck, “okay so I wasn’t totally innocent in this— but neither are you! you shouldn’t of opened your mouth to Daniel!” he exclaims rather loudly that you’re sure whoever shares the walls with you could hear.
huffing out a sigh, you tell Lando from start to finish everything that happened that night many moons ago. by the time you’re finished, Lando looks as if there was more to be told, but that was it. the story ended at him saying he’d call you and he never did.
“he never called?” Lando mumbles the words to himself, you can see he’s trying to connect the dots on maybe why he never called but you’d given up. you spent two weeks in that same rut Lando was in and decided it wasn’t worth it. you both got what you needed and that was the end of it.
“trust me, I’d know if he called, but the line has been silent.”
lando’s eyes widen, a lightbulb clicking, “I have an idea,” he stands up off the mattress and before you can stop him he’s sprinting out the door letting it slam behind him.
this is why you never talk to Lando Norris.
“so I never called.”
the words come from behind you, and while all signs tell you, you should turn around, you avoid it. you keep reading your book in hopes that maybe he’ll shoo along and take the hint.
“that’s it? after all that—“
“all that?” you say slamming the book shut. all that? you could not believe him. while the sex was good, and he was a natural at giving you pleasures, he also didn’t last. it took no more than one minute for him to come and that was the end of it.
“you really believe it was ‘all that’?” you turn to face him now to see the man you once spent an evening with. he looked different yet the same. there was more muscle to his body, more of a maturity than there was before.
“y/n, the deed is done. did you really think I was going to call?”
you can feel your heart plummet out of its cavity, thinking back to your early conversation, you always knew he never would. he ran his way around women often, and always left them to dry. he wasn’t ever going to call because that’s who he was.
“wow.” you say feeling as if all the air in your lungs were gone. like the only air left was the dry air of Bahrain and it wasn’t enough to keep you from falling, “after you said this was different. you played me with this stupid Christmas gift and now,” you pause. your chest tirelessly rose and fell trying to supply air, “now you expect me to what? forgive you? move on like all is well?”
shaking your head you stumble across the empty paddock to find somewhere—anywhere away from him.
you slam yourself into bodies, unable to look up from the blacktop pavement beneath your feet as you push yourself into the nearest garage and drivers room. slamming the door shut jolts whoever is in the room with you, he turns from his game to find you in the corner hunched over trying to breathe.
“Jesus, y/n.” Lewis pushed himself out of the chair he’s in and moves down to your level, “what’s the matter?”
“max.” you grit out through your teeth feeling tears threaten to spill, “fucking max.”
you can’t see the frown that takes hold of his lips, but you feel his arms quickly wrap around you making you safe in his embrace, “so your secret Santa sucked huh?” Lewis chuckles carefully place a kiss to your hair, “I assume he was awful then? didn’t fulfill your needs?”
a scoff unconsciously escapes your lips as a reply, “fulfilled his own then left. said he’d call, he never did.”
Lewis let’s out a sigh, pulling himself an inch away from you, “he didn’t—“ Lewis stops himself trying to find the right words, “you didn’t get what you wanted?” he exhales, watching you pull your knees into your chest trying to shrink into the corner.
“no.” you whimper softly feeling a heat wave across your face. it’s humiliating really is what it was. to know the entire grid left last season knowing of you dry spell and if word got around, they’d know yet again, you’d been let down. so what’s Lewis to do? be a horrible man and not give you the pleasures you deserve? you’re a woman after all, a woman who, simply put, just wanted to feel.
Lewis extended his arm towards you, his fingers brushing your cheeks, he pulls a few hairs off your tear stained cheeks, “darling,” he moves closer again, this time you can almost hear his heart beating out of his chest, you can smell the lingering scent of rubber mixed with his cologne, “all you have to do is ask, and I can show you.”
swallowing the lump in your throat you remove your knees from your tight grip and slightly part your thighs, “show me.” your voice feels small in the room, quiet like as small as mouse.
he’s gentle. closing the gap between you two, his lips carefully crashing against yours, teeth tug on your bottom lip and his tongue sneaks in. he’s more experienced at this than you are, you let him take control.
slipping his hand down your pants, his index finger swipes across your panties that are thick with moisture, “six months of this huh? must’ve been hard.” you cut off his chuckle with a kiss to his cheek, lips trailing down his neck, you’re sucking at his earlobe while his finger slips in your folds.
your breath hitches, a moan escaping your mouth that you just can’t control as you feel him pump you, his thumb run carefully across your clit. it’s pitiful, how easy it was. six months and not a single man had touched like Lewis did. not even max could get you like this.
“feels good, huh?” he asks, softly. watching your eyes roll to the back of your head while he continues to rub the bundle of nerves and feeling the need to add a second finger.
you’re taking him well, despite the shake in your legs and the pitiful lack of self control to stop yourself from coming so soon. Lewis doesn’t really seem to mind, he just undoes his pants, remove his underwear from around his hips, and hoist you up against the wall.
your head pounds against the wall, fingers gripping Lewis’s shoulders, his rhythm is short, sporadic like he too had been waiting six months to fuck someone. the two of you are at match for who’s the loudest in the drivers room, and if anyone was listening they didn’t seem to stop you two.
he’s long, no doubt. it’s painful how you’ve never thought of Lewis like this. like someone who needs someone so bad they do it in their room where almost everyone can hear them. he was a man with honor around these tracks, but fuck his honor. he’d rather give you the pleasure you failed to recieve months ago.
finally releasing the two of you pull away from each other and lie against the wall, bodies nearly toppling each other.
“was it anything like that? with max?”
you attempt to let out a laugh, but you’re out of breath panting from the recent activities.
“he didn’t last as long as you did.”
Lewis laughs pressing a kiss to your cheek, “some of us are more experienced than others.”
DEAR MAX,
looks like I gave her the one thing you couldn’t. merry belated Christmas to me.
— LEWIS HAMILTON
tags: @monzabee @lovelytsunoda @willowpains @vellicora @smartstupyd @bbxnny-bbxtch @asmoothoperator @surazim @whyamireadingthis @msolbesg @barcelonaloverf1life @landowecanbewc @uuzhanggggggg @champomiel @yagirlhayes @sugarvibez @omgsuperstarg @fluvsof @itsjustaninchident
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supernovafics · 3 months
Text
𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔
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"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist
pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 2.9k words
warnings: explicit language, (slight) jealous!steve, brief mention of blood/injury (reader has a lil fall)
summary: in which everything has changed for steve after that night at the bar and morning in your bed, but he hasn’t admitted that to you yet. being honest is much harder than he thought it would be and no moment feels completely right, so he continues to pretend that nothing has changed. but, a day at the park playing basketball with you makes it feel a thousand times harder to keep the secret
author's note: the slow burn will end one day (eventually) (i promise) i just love dragging things out for absolutely no reason<3 (i’m sorry!)<333 anyways enjoy this very slight jealous!steve moment! he’s a bit of an asshole in this but also like not really and it’s only kinda for a second
general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Winter 1986
It actually wasn’t all that surprising when Steve asked you to go to the park— that Saturday marked the first slightly warm day in months. 
And maybe saying that he “asked you” was a bit of a stretch because this felt more like a hostage situation; one that you technically orchestrated since, as one of his Christmas presents, you promised that you would play basketball with him one time. And today, on one of the first few days of March, he decided to drag you out of the apartment and to the park that was a quick drive away and had semi-nice basketball courts. 
You changed out of your typical Saturday attire, which simply consisted of a hoodie and shorts, and into a cream-colored t-shirt that said, “Sports Suck. And you do too” in black lettering, Steve got it for you for your birthday, and it felt almost too fitting for this moment. You also had on a pair of black athletic shorts that had been your usual attire during high school gym class.
“You’re the only person that I would ever subject myself to doing this for,” You said to Steve as you stepped out of his car and grabbed the basketball that had been sitting at your sneaker covered feet during the drive. “So, I hope you understand how huge of a deal this is.” 
Steve laughed a bit. “I know, and I feel honored that you’re risking your life by doing this for me right now.”
“You say that jokingly, but I brought a first aid kit just in case this ends badly,” You said and handed the basketball over to him. “So, what’s first? A riveting round of HORSE?”
“Before we play any games, and I beat you at all of them, let’s just shoot around for a bit so you can get used to it. Was the last time you played basketball really at my eleventh birthday party?” He asked, shooting the ball from a little bit in front of the three-point line as he spoke and making it almost too effortlessly. 
You grabbed the ball as it bounced on the court and then took a shot. You were standing much closer to the basket than Steve had been but still missed. 
“If that didn’t just answer your question, yes, your birthday party was the last time I even thought about playing. I actually think it was that day that made me realize I should stay away from all sports.”
“You hadn’t been that bad back then.”
You gave him a look. “Steve, I hit your grandma with a basketball. I missed a shot so bad that it hit her.”
It was that day that you were banned from using the basketball hoop in Steve’s backyard, rightfully so. 
“Okay, yeah, but she was fine and forgave you immediately. And even made sure you got an extra piece of cake when you started crying because of how bad you felt,” He said, tossing the ball to you so that you could try another shot. 
“Still doesn’t change the fact that I’m horrible at this,” You said before taking a breath and shooting the ball. You missed again, but it at least hit the rim that time. 
“That’s progress,” Steve said and gave you an encouraging smile.  
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Exactly twenty-three minutes had passed, and the only reason that you were keeping close track of the time was because when Steve had dragged you out of the apartment, you told him that you’d only be playing for an hour; unless you somehow turned into a prodigy. 
You had lost count of how many times you shot the basketball, but you knew that the number of times you successfully made a basket was four. It was an embarrassingly low number, and you definitely were not a prodigy, but each time you surprisingly made a shot, you’d gasp in shock and Steve would whoop happily and give you an enthusiastic high five while saying that the pointers he was giving you were working. You weren’t entirely sure that was true— and it wasn’t because he was a bad teacher, you were just a bad student. You were certain that each shot you made was based on pure luck and simple probability; if you kept shooting the ball, you’d eventually end up making something. 
And when you told Steve exactly that, he only shook his head at you. “No, you made those four shots because you’re good.” 
How happy and positive he was being about this entire thing was the only thing that made it bearable. 
You laughed a bit. “I love you and your encouragement, but that is such an overstatement.”
“For someone that hasn’t even touched a basketball in eight years, you are good.” 
“Thank you,” You said with an amused smile on your face instead of rebutting his statement. “I’ll make sure to try out for the local rec team when the time comes.” 
“That’s a great idea. I’ll coach you to help you prepare,” Steve said jokingly, and you only laughed in response. 
You were about to ask him to toss you the ball, but a group of guys walking past you two, probably headed to the empty hoop on the other side of the court, caught your attention for a second instead. There were four of them and one smiled at you as he passed by you and Steve and he was kind of cute so you smiled back. 
You were completely unaware, but there was something about that smile you gave the guy that made Steve have to look away from the entire nonverbal interaction and focus on the basketball in his hand instead. All too quickly he wanted to blurt it all out, everything that had hit him so abruptly that morning in your bed barely two weeks ago. 
I love you. I’m in love with you.
For the most part, that thought was the only thing that consumed his mind these days, especially when you two were together; which of course was way more often than not. 
There had probably been at least a hundred moments where he almost accidentally let it slip. Hours after it all had hit him, you two were sitting on the couch mindlessly watching some random sitcom and you leaned your head on his shoulder and he was so close to simply whispering it to you. And then when you two were in your Film and TV history class that Tuesday and writing unserious notes back and forth to one another in the margins of his notebook, he wanted to just write the five words down and slide the notebook back over to you. And just last night when you two were driving to the movie theater to see something with Robin and Eddie, he felt the urge to say it when a stupid love song that felt as if it cheesily summed up exactly how he was feeling came on the radio. 
However, he would always bite his tongue right before he told you because he was waiting for that perfect moment to be honest with you, and nothing felt entirely right just yet. And it especially didn’t feel like a good time in this moment where you were smiling at some guy that wasn’t him and a certain feeling that could only be deemed as jealousy sat in the pit of his stomach. 
Steve cleared his throat, bringing your attention back to him and then he tossed the ball to you. “Your turn.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
The first round of HORSE was started and finished barely fifteen minutes later, quickly ending with Steve winning. Even though you could tell that he was going very easy on you and trying to let you win, you still somehow managed to lose. 
“This loss feels so much more embarrassing knowing that you were trying to let me win,” You had said after you missed your shot and got an “E.” 
“I wasn’t,” Steve told you with a shake of his head and you only gave him a look that said you didn’t believe him. 
You reached down to grab the ball and stop it from rolling away, but you somehow tripped over nothing but your own feet and landed hard on the ground. 
You yelped as you collided with the concrete. Luckily, you thought fast enough to put your hands out so that you didn’t completely faceplant. “Ouch. Shit.” 
Steve was by your side in an instant and started helping you up. “Are you okay?”
You could only shrug in response to his question at first as you stood up with the help of his hand on your arm. 
“Okay, just kidding, that moment was a lot more embarrassing than losing the game,” You told him. When you looked down and saw the deep scrape on your knee and the blood already starting to rise from the wound, you immediately had to look away from it. “I put the first aid kit in the backseat.”
“What? You actually brought it? I thought you were joking,” Steve said, keeping an arm around you as he helped you walk over to the car and opened the passenger side door so that you could sit down. 
“Of course, I wasn’t joking. It felt inevitable that something like this would happen,” You said as you sat sideways in the passenger seat so that your feet were on the ground, and then you grabbed a couple napkins from the glove compartment to place it on your knee and help stop the bleeding. “Honestly, I’m surprised this didn’t happen in the first five minutes.”  
Steve grabbed the first aid kit before kneeling down in front of you and you looked at the four guys down at the end of the court. They were playing a two against two game and the one that smiled at you earlier just made a shot at the three-point line. 
You stopped looking at him and instead focused on the top of Steve’s head. “Ugh, I can’t believe I just fell in front of that cute guy.” 
“Maybe he didn’t even see,” Steve mumbled with a quick shrug.
“I doubt that,” You said and then sighed. “These last few weeks have been very humbling. First, things immediately going downhill with Jamie, and now this.” 
Steve didn’t know how things had ended with Jamie, you had yet to tell him the exact reasoning, but selfishly he had been glad that they did. Although he couldn’t find it in him to tell you the truth just yet, the thought of now having to see you with anyone else annoyed him. 
You tapped his shoulder so that he would look up at you. “It would be a bad idea if I went up to him and asked for his number, right?” 
“Yeah, it would,” Steve answered, pulling his eyes away from yours and focusing on grabbing something from the first aid kit instead. His words were a lie, for the most part— he personally would’ve thought it was cute if a girl did that to him. He immediately felt like shit for lying to you, but not enough to go back on what he said. 
You nodded at his response. “Okay.”
You kept your eyes away from what Steve was doing as he cleaned up your knee, looking up at the sky instead until he was done and placing the large band-aid over it. 
“Thanks,” You said and smiled at him. 
He looked up at you for a brief moment before standing up and simply giving you a small nod. He went over to grab the basketball, which had rolled into the grass, and then put it in the backseat. 
The drive back to the apartment was quiet and it felt more like Steve’s doing than yours. He suddenly seemed distant, maybe even mad at you, and the abrupt shift felt so odd.
You looked over at him. “What’s wrong?” 
He shook his head. “I’m fine.” 
It felt pretty clear that he wasn’t fine, though. You could tell that he was annoyed at you for reasons that you couldn’t decipher and that only made you annoyed as well. You didn’t even play with the radio during the drive back to the apartment, you just sat there with your arms folded across your chest as you stared out the window. 
You wondered if the prevailing silence bothered him as much as it bothered you, but then that question didn’t even matter because he was pulling into the parking lot of the apartment building and parking in the usual open spot next to your car, and you were unbuckling your seatbelt. 
“What happened with you and Jamie?” Steve asked before you could open the door and step out of his car. “You never really talked about it.” 
The abruptness of the question surprised you; and it wasn’t even the question itself that was the surprising part, it was more so the timing of it. Was that why he decided to randomly get mad at you? Because you never told him what happened on that dumb date? And why the hell would it even matter at this point? 
You weren’t even entirely sure why you hadn’t told Steve the full extent of what happened. When you came back from the date that night, you only said that things had gone badly. 
You turned to look at Steve. “He didn’t like you.” 
His eyebrows furrowed at that. “What?”
“Well, not you necessarily, but us; our friendship,” You said, looking down at your band-aid-covered knee. “When me and him went on the date, he asked about what my emergency was and why I had to cancel the date the first time, and I told him about your accidental phone call and you being drunk at the bar and me having to go get you, and he didn’t see that as much of an emergency; especially since you had wanted Eddie to pick you up. He thought it was a little weird how easily I canceled plans to go do something for you, and the whole night kind of shifted awkwardly from there.”
You remembered that entire conversation perfectly, and you honestly couldn’t even get that annoyed with Jamie when he said any of that because you didn’t think that your priorities would ever be able to change. Steve would probably always be at the top of your unwritten list, and you had come to the conclusion that whoever else wanted to be in your life would just have to deal with that. 
“Oh.”
You looked at him curiously. “What?”
“Nothing,” Steve shook his head. “I’m sorry.” 
Hearing him say that only confused you. “Sorry for what?”
He was quiet for a long moment before sighing. “I don’t know…” 
“Is that why you were mad at me just now? Because I didn’t tell you what happened on the date?”
“No, I don’t even know why I brought it up right now, I was just curious,” He said with a shrug before meeting your gaze. “And I’m not mad at you for anything. I promise.” 
“Okay…” You said as you found one of his hands and gave it a light squeeze. “So, what’s up with you? Clearly, something’s wrong, right? Is it something with your parents?”
“No, nothing with them,” He responded, which was an answer that only confused you more. It looked like there were a thousand things going through his head right then, and you couldn’t seem to decipher any of it, which felt foreign to you— you were so used to reading him like a book. “It’s just… it’s kind of hard to explain right now.”
If it really had nothing to do with his parents, you were unsure what else it could be and what else would be difficult to talk to you about. In your head, there wasn’t supposed to be anything that you couldn’t talk to each other about; you were best friends for a reason. It was easy to joke around and playfully banter with one another, but it had also always been easy to have the types of deep and honest conversations that neither of you would ever have with anyone else. 
You decided not to push him further in this moment, though. Whatever was going on with him, you knew that he’d tell you eventually. 
“It’s okay. Tell me whenever you want to,” You said softly and then decided to say your next words jokingly to shift the mood a bit. “But stop being weird about whatever it is, or I will think that you hate me or something.”
Steve only shook his head at your words at first. “I could never hate you.”
Maybe that was when you should’ve seen it, when you should’ve realized how he felt about you. There was something about the way he said his short statement— so certainly, so truthfully— that should’ve made you connect all of the dots. But, that was the last possible thing on your mind. You would’ve thought that he wanted to move out of the apartment for some random reason before you even considered thinking that he had any sort of romantic feelings toward you. You two had been friends for forever so that just didn’t sound like a plausible thought. 
Therefore, instead of any sort of “aha!” moment hitting you right then, you smiled playfully at Steve and said, “Good.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
let me know ur thoughts<333
(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)
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