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#YOU WANT THE WORLD TO TAKE HIM OFF YOUR HANDS????
luveline · 3 days
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i have a request for roommate!spencer where he's just miserable that no one remembered his birthday at work but when he gets home his roommate just welcomes him with the most thoughtful gift and a warm hug PLEASE
thank you for requesting! <3 fem!reader
The lights are off. The air conditioning blows a shade too cold. Spencer shrugs off his jacket and acknowledges that, despite his awful, aching day, it’s nice to be home. 
The living room is clean where it hadn’t been this morning when he left. If he had to clean it by himself, he’d die. It must’ve taken a good hour or longer, even the floor shines sparkling clean. 
“Hey?” he asks into the open air, wondering where you are. 
“Spencer!” you yelp from the kitchen, “Hey, what took you so long? It’s almost seven!” 
He sighs to himself with a great dash of self-pity. “I know. Had to stay and finish something. You cleaned?” 
“I had to! Quick, come in here, I need your help with something.” 
He doesn’t want to help, he wants to lay down in bed. Spencer wonders how a normal person, a normal boy, would feel after a day like today. He wonders if Morgan would go home and lay in bed and cry. He wonders if it could ever be possible for everyone to forget Morgan’s birthday. 
Spencer hangs his jacket on the rack and puts his bag by the shoes. He’s tempted to go to bed and pretend he hasn’t heard you, but he supposes he shouldn’t. He’d sort of been hoping you’d text him happy birthday, and but that never happened. He doesn’t think anybody in the world besides his mom knows what day it is today, and Spencer had to remind her, so. 
“Spence,” you say, your smile of a calibre he’s never witnessed, standing in front of the kitchen island with your hands behind your back, “I hope you know I’ve been waiting two whole hours for you to get back. Actually, I’ve been waiting all day, but you can’t be blamed for working. Okay. Are you ready?” 
“Am I ready? What did you want help with?” 
You step to the side, grinning, the sleeves of your nice blouse like big, soft petals around your wrists and against your thighs. “Tada!” you say, guiding his attention to the silver platter on the countertop, a chocolate cake at centre stage and stuck with candles, flames aglow. “I rushed to light them when I heard the door,” you tell him, and he can hear your breathlessness now, your excitement for him evident. “A lot of candles, you’re getting old! Too old for chocolate sprinkle. I should’ve got you something sophisticated.” 
“You got me a cake?” 
“It’s your birthday,” you say happily. “Happy birthday, Spencer. I got you some presents, too, but the cake is the best, it’s from the Leaven. How fancy is that?” 
“Will you sing?” he asks. 
He doesn’t know why he asks. He’s mostly kidding, but you smile shyly and beckon him toward you. “I’ll sing. Come stand over here.” 
You sing him happy birthday, and he blows out his candles, only ten candles altogether but enough to feel like a kid as the heat kisses his chin. 
“Okay, and I got you this,” you say, finally pulling both hands from behind your back, seemingly eager to move the focus from your performance.
It’s a bundle about as thick as an average novel. He knows it’ll be books before he opens it, because you know him, and it’s in your nature to give him your everything. 
He doesn’t look at them. He takes the package blindly and shoves it onto the counter, wrapping you in a hug so hard it makes your back click. “I’m sorry,” he says, but he doesn’t let go. You don’t make him. “Sorry, I just– I–” You’re the only one who remembered. “Thank you for the cake.” 
You hug him not quite as hard, but tight. “Hey, it’s okay. I love you, you’re my best friend ever, you can pop me like a roll of dough any day of the week.” You might be exaggerating. Spencer doesn’t know. “But especially today, you know. You can have anything you want.” 
Spencer should let go. Anything you want, you’d said. He hugs you until he’s sure you’re sick of him, your thumb pressing little circles into his shoulder, his arms tucked up under your armpits and around your back. “Thanks,” you murmur.
“What?” he asks. “For what?” 
“For such a good hug. And being a great roommate. And for not complaining about the candles.” 
“The candles are perfect.” 
You lean back in his arms. “Thank you. Now what do you want first, cake or dinner?” 
Spencer really wants another hug. “Um. Cake?” 
“Good choice, handsome.”
His cheeks are pink by the time he gets a slice, but it’s the best birthday cake he’s ever had.
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hoshigray · 2 days
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hey love can i request brothers bff cho and how he's just down bad for you 🤍🤍🤍
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𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: omg wait, i fucks with this baddd
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Choso x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - masturbation (m!) - oral (m! receiving) - tit/breast fucking (m! receiving) - cowgirl position - pet names (baby, darling, honey, sweetie) - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up or get tf up) - implied that reader is big chested - Choso crushing on you hard, lmao - mention of drool/spit.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.4k
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Choso knew better than to be attracted to you, the sibling of his best friend ever. 
Your brother and Choso have been buddies for a while, meeting during his part-time job at a burger joint as servers and finding out they have so much in common. Being older siblings, lovers of rock music, and relating to so much together, the two often hung out after work and became pretty good friends. Just two people vibing out in each others’ company, and there was nothing to make this relationship complicated!
“Hey, Choso, I’ve told you about my sister before, right?”
You greeted him with a smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Choso!”
Well, that is until you came and absolutely rocked Choso’s world. 
You were the younger sibling of two; a college senior comes home biweekly to take care of laundry and then drives back up for your education. By your gorgeous face and alluring figure, Choso was struck by your image from the first time his eyes ever laid on you. You were such a kind spirit, always so sweet to him and others surrounding you — you’d want to hang with the boys whenever you had the chance while you were visiting, which was hellish for the brown-haired man. 
You’d laugh along with the jokes, making Choso’s heart skip uncontrollably, and the way you’d lean to him when you’re sleepy watching a movie with them pushed the guy on the verge of shutting down. He could never get tired of how you’d say his name; it came out so dear from your lips as if he could be under your spell at any second. And it didn’t help that you’d walk around the house with shorts on, the lower fringes constantly threatening Choso on whether they’d creep up to see the mere crevice of your ass.
As said before, he knew better than siblings of best friends were off limits. However, you were becoming too much for him. It’s been half a year of seeing you, and there has never been a day or night where you haven’t popped up in his head one way or another, particularly when his mind would think of you in the most…lustful ways.
He was spending the night at yours after spending a night out drinking with you and your brother, using the basement bedroom to sleep. Sleep evades him; however, he uses this space to deal with the erection he’s been dying to indulge in this entire night instead. His teeth pull the bottom of his shirt, dark jeans discarded to the floor, and his hand pumps his shaft that’s freed from his boxer briefs.
He throws his head back, reminiscing about you and your outfit from the pub. The way your breasts were tucked in nicely by the window of your bodycon dress, yet the cleavage was too tempting for his eyes not to notice. The dress sculpted your curves dangerously, Choso fighting the urge to put his hand on your hip to feel your clothed skin. And your lipgloss made your lips shine; every time you spoke to him was a test for him not to kiss you right there in front of your brother. It was so cruel how you looked so good for him!
He grunts at the memory, teeth grinding while he strokes his long cock. Precum exuding from the urethra slides down to the base and wets his fingers. “Fuuck, Y/n,” your name is said in choked moans, the horny man fisting himself in a faster motion. Brown eyebrows are trenched, and his abdomen begins to flex. Shit, I’m so close, so cl—
“Choso?”
He never in his life froze still in an instant, and his heart goes to a complete stop, too. No way.
“Ca–…May I come in?”
No words are said from either side, so Choso’s heat immediately shifts to icy cold when he hears the door open, and your frame is all he sees. You’re still wearing the beautiful dress, yet your face is molded into an expression of utter anxiousness. Sweat goes down Choso’s forehead, oh fucking shit!
“I came down to see if you were okay and needed anything,” your eyes were downcast to the floor, chewing on your lips during this awkward situation. “But…I heard you say my name and…”
Oh, it was so over for him. All Choso could do was stare at you in dread, entirely shocked that you saw him masturbate at the thought of you! You were fidgeting with your dress, perplexed about how to handle this predicament, too. He was so done for; not only was he thinking of you, the sibling of his best friend, and using said thoughts of you, but now you are aware of how he pictures you in his fucked up head! Yup, he can never walk into this house again. “S–Sorry, Y/n! I’ll just go and—“
“Can I help?”
Again, his body goes rigid mid-stride of getting off the bed after pulling his underwear up. ….What?
“I mean, can I…help you with that?” You meekly walk into the room and close the door behind you. “I am the one who made you like this, so…I’m okay with it if you are…..”
Choso blinks, too alarmed to make any movements. “But, your brother…” You’re quiet for a few seconds before you spook him by taking steps in his direction. He gulps thickly when your figure crawls on the bed, too close for his brain to comprehend. You take his hand with your soft ones and bring his fingers to your lips to kiss, and his breath hitches when you suck and lick his digits. The boner stuffed in his briefs twitches at the sensation of your tongue running against the underside of his middle finger and sucking on it. 
You peer at him, “What about him?” That is what you say before lifting your dress to remove your panties. And just when Choso thought his life was about to be thrown in the gutter, you flipped the script on him again.
In his head, Choso knew he shouldn’t be doing this.
“Mmm…Mmahh! Oh, Choso, you taste so good…”
But in his heart, he couldn’t help but give in to this situation.
You were situated between his legs, ripped him off his briefs for you to suck on his glans freely. Your tinge dances around his cockhead to prompt more come to ooze out of his urethra, and your hand slides up and down to stroke his member. Choso whimpers under your touch, and shivers crawl up his spine as you lick from the base to the tip before sucking hard.
“Fuuck, Y/n,” he grips the sheets, barely containing his hips to buck to your lips. “Your mouth, it’s—Hssshh…!”
“Mmm?” You blink before releasing the tip with a sound. “What about my mouth, Choso baby?” Fuck, the nickname made the pink of his ears creep down to his nape. “You feel good?” He nods at your question, and you giggle before sucking one of his balls, resulting in a sharp gasp from the brown-haired man. “I’m so happy you are…”
Hallow cheeks take in his cock, busying your throat with his length that has you humming blissfully. You massage his waist as you bob your face up and down, and shaky breaths leave his lips while his legs jolt with every swish of your tongue.
“—Shhiiit, oh shit, hnnn,” he can’t do it, you were driving him crazy. “Y/n, you’re gonna make me…Mmmm”
You pick up on his cue, withdrawing your lips from him to maneuver and pull down the top of your dress. Caramel eyes widen at the sight of your breast spilling out, forgetting how to breathe when you bring them to wrap around his long dick. You move them around to please him, taking the tip back into your mouth to slurp his leaking essence that trickles down to your chest. 
“Mmaahh, go ahead, darling,” you place kisses on the tip, Choso looking at nothing but your mounds swallow him with every stroke. It takes mere seconds for his orgasm to sneak up on him, his jizz coming out to fall and trickle down in between the rifts of your tits. “There you go, let it out for me…” the way you looked at him with half-lidded eyes took his breath away, especially with the spit that connects your gloss-shining lips to his spit-and-come coated shaft. 
And when he’s finally inside you? He’s too far gone to even think of being away from you.
“Ohhh, hoooh!! Chosooo, y’u feel soo good!”
Your dress was cast-off entirely, your nude body bouching up and down on Choso, his cock bullying the inside of your cunt. It’s been a solid fifteen minutes shared between the two of you exploring each other’s bodies, and sweaty skin exchanges heat from the constant motions. And come from rounds prior spill from your chasm as you ride on Choso’s dick with a rhythm.
He has his hands on your hips now, using you to keep him steady before he gets too lost in the feeling. Not that it hasn’t happened already; the man moans with every clamp of your walls around him, tightening around him with every graze of your g-spot. You wail for him up top, and your aroused sounds have to be the cutest things he’s ever heard. And the way your tits jump every time you plummet down to the base of him, it’s an image that will haunt him for the rest of his days.
“Tahhh, ughh, Jesus Christ…” He’s too sensitive right now; he just came not too long ago and is now being chased down for another one. “Y/n, sweetie, too fast, slow d—Ahh…!”
You hear him and titter, “Yeah? Want me to slow down, huh…” You bring your hips up excruciatingly slow, listening intently to the shaky sobs from the brunette as you get to the very top. And then you smack yourself down with haste, sharing a yelp at the rushed sensation. You do it again, “Think you’re about to cum again, huh, honey?”
His hands now come to your ass to grope with the flesh, and you twitch around his girth at the hunger. “Yeahhh…”
“You gonna be good and cum for me again, right?” Another snap of your ass crashing down on him. 
“Yess, baby,” he throws his head back to the pillows, his head pounding so hard it could kill him. You can feel him pulsating within your slit. “Almost there…Ohh–ooo..!”
You bite your lip, relishing at the sight of him being desperate for release. You lean forward to him, your breasts meshing with his chest as you snake a hand around the back of his head. You place your lips on his, and he doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate.
The kiss gets hotter when you dial up the speed, tongues swirling and exchanging spit as the friction becomes a lot more pleasurable than before. Choso’s ears ring the deeper you bring him in to kiss, humming on his tongue as you suck on it with harsh rocks on his length from scraping places you couldn’t reach. He’s so fucking addicted to you; his composure long deteriorated the moment he first put his cock inside you.
Choso bucks himself to you in sync, his climax coming in just a few ruts. He howls into you, and you wail along as your hips don’t rest until you’re hit with a crescendo of your own. Contracting your vaginal walls milks him, exerting his load into you again to spill and flow down your sticky frames. 
You two heave and pant in each other’s mouth before the kiss is broken, and the string of saliva is evidence of you being one with the other. Although the both of you are dazed, you smile at him before kissing his nose. “Glad I helped you out, huh?” He chuckles weakly as you lay kisses on his chin.
KNOCK!! KNOCK!!
And just like that, the two of you are frozen yet again. Wait…
Too late, the bedroom door busts open with a bang, and in comes your brother!
“Yooo, Choso, my guy—hic,” your brother stumbles inside the room, still a bit loopy and drunk. “Wanna go up and hit a quick blunt with— ah…”
The heat shared between you and the man below you switched to silent torture, awkwardness suffocating the three figures staring at each other. And this is the exact reason why Choso should’ve known better than to mingle around with you…
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.
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laneywrld · 3 days
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Oh Baby | part two
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part two.
word count: 10.8k
Warnings: wee bit angsty (an argument), mentions of sex + pregnancy
The repercussions of Lewis' birthday night are not as sweet.
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You don't remember anything after your life-changing orgasm. You vaguely recall Lewis standing bare and walking into the bathroom. Your eyes were low and droopy, and you could only offer him a loving smile that had his cheeks burning. 
"M'gonna clean you up for a second, okay."
You only hum, allowing him to spread you open; this time, it's not sexual at all; it's romantic. Oh god, you thought. You should've known the sex with Lewis would make you go mad. 
He swipes the warm cloth between your legs, wiping the glistening remainder of your arousal away.
The sight of his cum oozing from your hole has him taking a harsh gulp. He'd have to remind you to take whatever precautions you found necessary in the morning. 
If you weren't so burned out and exhausted, the sight of him walking around in the nude with his golden and tatted-on skin display would've had you jumping his bones again.
You can't help but laugh at yourself as he returns from cleaning himself up. 
"What you laughing about?" He grins, hovering over you. You smile, looking at him like he's hung the moon and the stars. "Myself."
The two of you look like two love-sick high schoolers, completely enamored with each other. 
Lewis lowers and captures your lips in a kiss, slow and sweet. One peck after the other before his weight is on top of you. He rolls off of you with a groan, turning you so that you're face to-face with him on your side. 
His hand falls to your bare waist, pulling you against him.
"We need t'sleep."
He sits up, chuckling as you whine from losing his body heat. With one arm, he gently hoists your legs up enough to pull the comforter from underneath your body. He is back in his place instantly, the cover now offering another layer of warmth.
You're trying your hardest to keep your eyes open and stay in this moment because you'll probably never get to experience Lewis like this again, this loving and intimate. 
"Going to be right here in the morning; go to sleep, bunny."
Like he had a spell over you, your eyes close for the final time, and you feel his palm cup your face.
Lewis can't help but watch you fall into slumber. His finger prods against your face, tracing your mouth, eyebrows, and nose. He could already remember every detail of your face. If he were a blind man, he thinks he'd have no problem telling you apart from the rest of the world. 
He didn't think it was possible to love you more than he already does, but feeling the way his heart reacts wildly to you laying flush against him naked and comfortable has him ready to read his (prewritten) vows to you in the morning.
He doesn't want to sleep; he wants to stay here and take it all in. He's probably moving too fast, but he can't wait to tell your friends, your guys' family, hell, even the world, that you love him.
Hearing those words from you detonated the lengthiest, most robust orgasm from him that he'd ever experienced. He'd never come so much, so hard in his life. 
Hearing you say you love him in your angelic whimpers, tears falling out the corner of your eyes, holding onto him so tight, fuck, he's hard again just thinking about it.
"I love you," he whispers into the night, kissing your forehead before turning off the lights.
-
You awake first in the morning, dazed and confused. You feel a heavy mass weighing you down. You squint, open your eyes, and you see him. Lewis, your best friend, face nuzzled in your neck, his arm thrown over your waist, holding you tight as if you were going to float away from him in your sleep.
"Oh fuck," you groan lowly as last night's events seep back into you like scenes from a movie.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. 
You gently reach for his arm, carefully lifting it off your body. You pull a pillow from your side, pushing it under his neck as you slide away and gently drop his arm.
You were unsure of how to go about this whole situation. Would he remember it when he woke up? The passionate sex? The beautiful night? You two were off-your-face drunk. Would he laugh at the words you shared? Brush it off. You wouldn't blame him, it'd hurt for you to hear, but logically, it'd make sense; he was in a sex stupor, drunk and horny, and that'd lead to all kinds of words coming out in a daze.
There's no telling how long you stood there like a deer caught in headlights before you began pulling his shirt over your frame. You crept into his closet, thanking God for the array of shoes and clothing of your own filling his space. You tugged on a pair of Nike crew socks and a pair of boyshorts, reaching for the pair of black Ugg Tasmans Lewis had gotten. 
You stood in his walk-in closet, staring at yourself in the full mirror, and sighed.
What the fuck were you supposed to do? You were sure you crossed the line this time and abandoned boundaries that were needed in order to keep your feelings at bay. You knew you couldn't keep putting yourself through the same demise. 
You didn't know how you would handle the situation when it approached, but in the meantime, you knew you needed to get away from Lewis. You needed to leave his home and be far away from him before you did or said something to ruin your guys' friendship for good.
You creep from the closet quickly, not sparing a glance at the man on the bed; as you grip the handle to his bedroom door, he speaks up from behind you.
He is sat up, back against his headboard, watching you try to leave, "Just going to leave?"
You turn to him awkwardly, hand dropping from the handle, "I-uh, didn't know what you'd want, wasn't sure how to go about-"
"You're not a fucking booty call, Y/n," he says it like you're the most ridiculous person alive like he can't fathom the words coming from your mouth; because he can't.
"Just going to leave me after fucking me? Without a word, while I'm still asleep, that was your plan?"
Your mouth plops open and closed like a fish, searching for the words you stammer out incoherent excuses. Lord, he's got such a dirty mouth.
"Get back in the bed." He cuts you off. 
Like a dog to a bone, you stride over to the bed, kicking off your slippers, and you're beside him again.
You're staring at the door, and he is staring at you. The covers hang low over his body, only just covering what had you going crazy last night.
You clear your throat, waiting for him to put you out of your misery. Get it over with, you thought to yourself as you braced for impact.
"Last night was fun," He hummed.
You let out a stifled laugh, finally turning to look at him. His face was still covered in morning haze, and his voice was extra raspy and groggy. He smiles as you, eyes low and droopy.
"I want to address what we-"
You thought you'd be able to take it. You aren't that fucking strong.
"Yeah, no, it's fine." you laugh awkwardly. "I understand. I feel the same way." You don't, but you continue anyway. "We were drunk and in a mad sex stupor, I'm not holding it against you."
"I don't-"
"It was a mistake," you rambled on.
Lewis' mouth plops shut, and he can't tell if his mouth has been dry from his sleep or if the words you're speaking to him have done it.
"You didn't want it?" He question abruptly, putting an end to your nervous break.
"I mean, of course, I wanted it; I initiated it. I was just drunk and turned on; no need to make it a big deal is what I'm saying; we're both off the hook."
Lewis stands from the bed, his bare body on full display. He wants to tell you to shut up and stop downplaying the night he spent with you. He wants you to say to him that you're lying, but you don't, and it's making him angrier as the second goes on.
There are so many sentences he wants to respond to, but he can only grapple with one at a time. You're talking too much, and he's talking too little.
"I was just going to make it easier for you. Usually, you prefer if girls leave, right? That's what you said."
He has said that, but why the fuck would he be talking about you. Why the fuck would other girls include you.
He looks like a wild man, and you look like his blubbering bunny. 
"Why do you say shit like that?" He shouts. 
His loud tone takes you aback, and your head cranes to watch him incredulously. "What are you talking about?" You fire back.
"You say stupid shit like that all of the time like I'm some kind of fucking manwhore."
You scoff, standing up from the mattress as well. At this point, you are glaring at each other from across the bed.
"You think I don't get enough of it, huh? Do you think I don't get sick of hearing you guys laugh at me? I can't help-"
"I'm not picking at you, Lew, I didn't-"
"But you look at me like that. That's how you feel?" 
He wants to know if that is the reason his words went in one ear and out the other. 
"Oh please, I've always told you how I feel. If I viewed you as some slut I would've said it." You wave your hand; this had to have been the stupidest argument ever, Lew knew your character, and he knew how much you admired him and his; he'd have to be a fool to think that you'd ever demean him.
"It's not about what you say! It's what you do!"
"Exactly!" you holler back. "I don't fucking laugh at you, Lew! I don't fucking kiki with the rest of the friends when they point out your new fucking flavor of the month! I defend you. You can't control it. You can't help it! You said it yourself it's in your fucking blood to fuck everything with two legs. Like having an itch, you can't scratch. I don't fucking judge you. It's just who you are." You snap. And you hate getting mad because it makes you go on and on.
"Don't even know my character enough to believe I would say some shit about you; supposed to be my best friend, and you can't even properly gauge who I am." It comes out as an angry sneer, and you're right back to slipping on your shoes. 
Lewis pulls on a pair of sweats, clamoring over to you; his hand grasps your wrist before you harshly pull it away.
"Last night," he shouts, "I'm not defiling your character; you said it last night."
"Lew, last night." you laugh, you genuinely cackle. "This is because I joked that you ran rabid after leaving Nicole? You did! I was there with you, do you not fucking remember, every night someone new! Just because you slowed down doesn't mean it ever stopped."
"You called me a fucking slut, y/n! Like a fucking bitch, I wouldn't date you, Lew; you're a manwhore." He mocks.
"You called yourself that; I said if the condom fits! You're upset because I said you made it easy for me not to want to be with you? If your ego is bruised, just say that!"
And you're missing the point he is bruised yes, but because he wants you to want him and you don't. Lewis is mad that you don't want to be with him. He is hurt and bothered by the fact that you can brush off the night you spent together like it's nothing.
And you're right; Lewis knows you're right, and he's just trying to find any reason to be mad at you. Of course, you wouldn't return his feelings; when you had them, he gave his affection to other women.
But hearing the person he loves call him out for it doesn't hurt any less. He feels like an idiot now, starting an argument over a situation that wasn't even relevant. He should be telling you he loves you, but now he's gotten you fired up and knows you're hard to diffuse.
You mutter curse words under your breath, frustrated, as your shaking hands keep you from slipping on your shoes. You were never a good angry person, so you'd rather avoid conflict completely. But when your frustrations began ticking inside of you, it was only a matter of time before you finally blew.
"All of this because I answered a fucking question you asked me last night, drunk ass motherfucker! I should've never fucking told you; look where the fuck that's got us, arguing over a relationship that never even happened that we're not even fucking in, so fucking stupid! The fuck do I look like trying to keep a man who doesn't wanna be kept? I'm supposed to wait around and pine after you? No fucking way, I've had my fair share of men like you." You're not saying these words directly to Lewis; he can hear them as you get increasingly frustrated. "Fucking idiot. Calling me out my name because your feelings are hurt; if it was such a fucking issue, you would've addressed it last night. Really you should have fucking addressed everyone else."
Finally, you spin around when the slipper is on, not expecting him to be so close. You jab a finger in his chest, looking up at him. "Yeah, you've pissed me off; this is not because you think I called you a manwhore. You know you sleep around. We all know it; I never said it was a bad thing. What are you really mad at, huh, Lewis? Say it!"
He says nothing, but his brain screams the words over and over: I love you.
You let out a bitter laugh, and you're relatively calm for how fired up you had been seconds ago. "Your anger is misdirected, and I'm not going to take it. So when you figure out what's got you so pissy, talk to me because I'm not here for you to yell at."
You're leaving his room in an instant. He can hear your footfall declining down his stairs and the way you snatch your keys from the hook. You don't slam his door, but from his window, he watches as you angrily march to your car, slamming your door and reversing from his driveway way too fast. It has his heart dropping as you nearly ram into another car.
He sighs as you pull down the street and disappear from his sight. "Fuck!" He roars, his fist shooting into his wall. He lets out a deep breath, his hand coming to rub over his face. Fuck.
He feels choked up and tingly as his eyes water. The two of you had never fought this bad, which says a lot, especially for how long you've been friends. He's never called you out of your name, and today he called you a bitch. You were far from a bitch, you were his sweet bunny. 
You just wanted to make sure he was comfortable and that you stayed within the bounds. How were you to know that he didn't want you to leave? 
You're a mess as you drive home, tears streaming down your face. Surprised you even made it there safely. 
When you're home and starting your shower, you see all of the evidence Lewis left behind on your skin, and it breaks you down into a fit of tears. You wish you had never crossed the lines because you were sure the two of you wouldn't return from this. 
-
Lewis has yet to contact you. It's been two weeks since that day. You tried to go about life as normal, but it was hard when you had spent every waking day talking to Lewis. You hadn't seen Roscoe since Lewis' birthday either, and that tore an entirely new part of your heart. Roscoe was like your child; he was with you when Lewis had to be on the road, so essentially, you spent an abundance of time with your four-legged friend. 
You could reach out to him, but you'd be dammed if you put your pride to the side to alleviate your best friend's superiority complex.
He yelled at you, calling you out of your name first. Call it childish, but it wasn't your job to apologize first. Of course, you planned on apologizing for your own actions, for calling him an idiot, because you truly regretted it, and it has been hanging heavy over your head ever since then. But he had to give in first.
You haven't gone out with your friends as a group since then either, opting to go on your regular outing with one or two of them at a time. You've seen in Miles' story that Lewis has been out with them many times. You try not to cry as you see Lewis in the background of a video chatting up another girl in Daniel's close friends. After the initial gloom, you felt infuriated.
Here you were giving him grace, withholding time with your friends so as not to make him uncomfortable and to give him time to come to his own senses and the whole time, he's out committing the same crime that made him blow up at you. Here you were suffering because after all of these years, he still didn't show you the same grace he shows others when it comes to communicating. Why does he shut down when it comes to you but is so vocal and mature with his feelings to other people. Two things were obvious, you weren't kids anymore, and he wasn't to be coddled by you anymore. And secondly, you were done making deluded excuses for this man. He'd take accountability when it came to you. 
-
Lewis awakes with his head pounding; he is in a random hotel, a random woman atop his chest in deep slumber. He sneaks from the bed, searching for his phone and tugging on his clothes. 
He was drunk off his ass and chatting her up because she looked like you, and in the end, when they made it back to her room, he couldn't get hard without thinking about you, and by that time, he was over it, not wanting to do anything with the woman at all. You really fucked him up.
When Lewis arrives home, he is barely sober. He pours food into Roscoe's bowl, rubbing his head.
Roscoe has been feeling the impact of your departure, too. Could Lewis even say you left him? He sighs as Roscoe whines, nudging your walking shoes left by the front door. "I know, boy. I miss her too."
Lewis didn't know why he couldn't just call you and tell you he was sorry. You left the ball in his court, so obviously, you were open to having a mature conversation with him. But as the days went on and he still hadn't called, he began to realize that perhaps he had waited too long, and it was doing more damage than good. 
He stumbles up to his room, stripping from his clothes and plopping onto his bead, Roscoe is up and beside him in an instant, snuggling into his side. Like routine, his hand reaches over to his nightstand, rustling through the stack of papers until he finds one of the many letters you'd gifted him for his birthday.
Lewis always kept your letters, especially when he was far away and traveling; nothing made him happier as a kid than his dad arriving with handwritten messages for him when you couldn't make it to his races. Your birthday gift, though, was a collection of unsent letters you'd had for years, dating back to as early as high school. He reread them all, scanning every word like they were the bible. He never told you this, but he kept them in a folder that traveled everywhere with him when he had to be gone for longer periods of time.
The letter he rereads now has been attached to him since the day you left, which was from your second year in high school. 
Hello Lewis,
I won't be able to make it to your race next week. Get this, I'm on punishment at sixteen years old! You're always getting me in trouble, and you're not even here :( Do you remember Henry Glasgow? Let's just say he's finally gotten what he deserved. No matter what anyone says, your work is paying off, and you're doing great! I saw you on the TV the other day, and boy, did you look great out there. Mum recorded it for me, so I rewatch it so many times a day like a weirdo. I miss you tons, Lew, but I'm so very happy that you were able to get out of this forsaken city. Don't worry; I'm still defending your honor while you're away; let Henry's nose be proof of that. I've made a friend since you've gone away, her name's Whitney but I call her whit whit just like you're my lewlew; I can't wait for you to meet her. She's very bold and different from what we're used to, but she's a sweetheart. I love her to pieces, but I love you wholly, so she's not really doing much to heal how much I miss you, Lew. This is the longest we've been away from each other, and although we talk on the telly every day, I would like to be with you again. But nevertheless, I am so very proud of you, and I support you full send. I know you can be the greatest you already are if you ask me. But I can't wait until the world knows your name. Just promise you won't leave me behind when it does, yeah? Keep moving fast; Pops likes to brag about you everywhere we go, and I love to hear anyone hype you up like you deserve; plus, I bet twenty bucks on you to win next week, and my allowance is already gone, so make me some money. I can only give you the same words of encouragement you've heard a million times, I am truly my father's daughter. You're a cheetah, Lew: move silently and let your actions do the talking. Make quick decisions, but move even quicker. I know it's hard, but don't ever let what they say get to you; you've got a greater mission to accomplish. There are people out there who admire you and have faith in you. Let me be proof of that. Always remember that what you can't say, I will. 
Love you more than you'll ever know, Lew.
p.s tell Nico that unless he wants me to go broke, he needs to push it a little harder. 
From Bunny. <3
-
One day of no contact became a week, and a week became a month; soon, he was in the Middle East racing in the first grand prix of the season two months later, and he still hadn't heard from you. He was racing terribly, and he couldn't even blame it on the car. On the track, he wasn't focused; he could only think about you. And that had put him into the wall (literally) more times than he could count. He had let the best person in the world slip from his grasp, and his mind couldn't grasp that.
His friends knew something was up between the two of you and for the first time ever they decided not to meddle, and he appreciated it just as he was sure you did too. That didn't mean that he didn't ask about you.
Every call home to his mum he asks about you. He sits on the phone with your dad listening to updates on your life. They never question anything between you and him so he assumes you haven't disclosed your argument to anyone. But they know, they always know.
He could tell you were taking every step in order to ensure that you wouldn't run into him. When your family came out to see him you were miracously always busy with work. When your friends invited you out you were never feeling well. 
He felt bad that you felt you had to sacrifice your enjoyment just to not be around him.
He revels in the glimpses he gets of you on your friends story, chuckles at the constant pictures Daniel posts of you that you obviously wouldn't have agreed to. He knows you probably threatened to kill him everytime. He likes every picture. 
He nearly cries as he watches you from a fan account, bouncing Nicholas up and down as he places on podium in one of his own races. 
Your dad's birthday was next week, and he knew you weren't going to miss it. He also knew he wasn't going to skip out on your father, so he mentally prepared himself to be a man and get his shit together. There was no way you could avoid him when you were stuck with him for a week. 
*
You, Miles, and Nicholas had been out and about all day exploring the town before you finally decided to head back to the villa. When you three initially left, everyone else was bunkering down for a post-flight nap.
When you opened the door, you froze in your tracks as you saw Lewis hugging your dad in greeting. You don't know why you figured he wouldn't show, but when he wasn't on the flight with the rest of you guys, it had your hopes high. 
Everyone's head swivels toward the front door as you emerge, he makes eye contact with you and even goes as far to offer you a smile. You don't return it. Nicholas rushes pass you to hug his brother jostling the many bags in your arm as he passes by. 
Lewis hugs him, but his eyes once again fleet back to you.
You suck your teeth, looking away from him and waltzing up the stairs and towards the back of the house where you had claimed your room.
You hardly had the time or the energy to worry about Lewis. You were tired, and the Brazilian heat had you going through it. You kick your bedroom door closed and drop your bags onto your bed. 
All you had to do was get through a week of being in his presence. You had your friends and family here with you. It wouldn't be too hard to stay away from him. You shower and then get dressed right in time for dinner. 
The sun was still out by the time you descended the stairs; everyone had been lounging around in the living room waiting for you to finish.
Lewis feels like a starved bear as the dress sways against your thighs. Like always, you look beautiful.
"And the princess has arrived!" Your cousin shouts, "Girl, hurry your ass up, we've been waiting on you. I'm hungry." The room erupts in laughter as you pause on the stairs and shoot her the middle finger.
"Doesn't the princess deserve a grand entrance?"
Your head immediately turns to Lewis as if you can feel his stare on you. He sits, legs spread open, hands folded in his lap, and looks at you like he had had the night of his birthday. Like he wants to devour you. 
You shake the memory from your head as everyone heads out of the door and piles into the three sprinters out front. 
"Aw, twins!" Whit coos, pointing between you and Lewis, "So in sync."
You let out the fakest laugh he's ever heard, wiping the smile clean from his face, "Ah ha ha, let's go."
When it's your time to pass through the door, you feel a presence behind you, and you know it's Lewis as his signature cologne wafts through your nostrils. As you descend down the front steps, you feel his hand come up to rest against your lower back.
A part of you wants to tell him to back up and that you don't need his assistance, but the soft spot you'll always have for him has you accepting his graces. 
You freeze, watching as two of the three vehicles pull off, fuck. 
So much for being able to avoid him.
You can still feel him hot on your trail as you waddle to the last sprinter. You're helped up by the driver, offering him a sweet smile. Ironically enough, the last two seats are side by side in the back row.
You groan internally, slipping into the seat by the window. Lewis follows after you, slipping between you and Miles.
"So what? This is the kid's bus?" You joke, leaning over the seat in front of you to tug on your cousin's braids. "Be happy it is." She grins, pulling a bottle of Clase Azul from the floor. Everyone erupts into cheers as she passes the bottle around. She hands it to you first, but you quickly pass it on to Lewis. You hadn't drunk alcohol since that night, and when you tried, the smell of it physically made you sick. You were convinced that the stress of that night had made your brain repel your favorite pastime. 
"Girl." Whitney gasped, "You're not drinking?"
"Hell no, I gag just thinking about that shit."
It's been so long since Lewis last heard your voice and seen you so carefree he wants to shout out his praises as you start a conversation within the van.
Your leg is flush against his, your thigh rubbing against his own with every jostle you take down the bumpy roads. 
You don't speak to Lewis throughout the entire ride. When he speaks, you tune into your phone or manage another conversation with those around you. Though it does bring you an unwanted sense of comfort to hear his childlike giggles again. You'd missed them just as much as you missed him.
This time, when the doors open, they are opened on your side, and you cheerfully hop out, wrapping your arms around your girls and skidding to the dock where you can see a great portion of your family and friends already loaded onto the yacht. 
You loved celebrating; it was no secret you were the life of the party anywhere you went, which is why you were always so grand when it came to spending time with the people you loved. Life is beautiful, as your father would say; you might as well live like it. 
Lewis and the guys exit behind you all, he watches you scamper off with that stunning smile on your face waving to the family members and friends you hadn't saw yet. 
An hour goes on of everyone mixing and mingling; your family is technically Lewis' as well, so it's no surprise when he is pulled into hugs and smooches left and right. It makes it easy to avoid him every time you sense him getting closer. You see him catching up with your grandparents, aunt, uncles, and cousins. 
He is close to your entire family, which made it even more annoying for you to be asked about Lewis in damn near every conversation. You were never nasty about it because, after all, you two shared the same relationships, so you simply smiled and directed your family toward him with every inquiry. You didn't expect his relationship with your family to end just because you two weren't...you two?
And then another wave of questioning is aiding in your irritated mood, we're the two of you even best friends anymore. Best friends don't go months without speaking to each other. 
Lewis can't help but watch your every move. It's obvious to everyone that there is a lingering tension between you two. There has never been a moment where the two of you weren't connected at the hip. So, the safe distance you're keeping between the two of you is making questions arise. He is standing off to the side, his mind running; he's never once felt like an outsider in your life more than now. His feelings were hurt because, for the first time, he was getting updates about you from others rather than being the one dishing the facts out. He's used to knowing everything when it comes to you, and now it feels like he's chapters behind in a book everyone else is close to finishing.
"I know my daughter." Your dad speaks up from behind Lewis as he watches him watch you. Lewis turns his head, catching sight of your father before walking and leaning his back onto the railing beside him. "And I know you just as well; why are you two acting like divorcée?"
"What's happened, my boy?"
Lewis shakes his head, eyes downcast to the glass in his hand. He couldn't tell your father that he'd spent the night of his birthday making love to you and having the most romantic twilight he'd ever experienced. He couldn't tell him that he spewed out his true feelings in the midst of it and fucked shit up the next morning.
"We haven't talked in months," Lewis admits.
Your dad leans away from Lewis, eyes set in disbelief. "Months?" 
Lewis only nods, looking straight ahead at you. You're standing with his father infront of a group, his arm thrown over your shoulder, yours wrapped around his waist, his father is obviously a wee bit tipsy as he laughs boisterously, you're supporting his frame throwing in side comments to whatever story his father was telling.
"Do you want to talk to her?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then why are you not?" He inquires like it's all so simple.
"Because it's your daughter," he scoffs. "And when she's mad, she's mad. It's not that easy."
You father laughs, "She is her mother's daughter." He corrects. "You know her, eventually she always puts her pride to the side. She's waiting for you to talk to her first. Have you tried."
"No, sir."
He lets out a boisterous laugh that has a sheepish smile skittering onto Lewis' face. 
"You're too old to still be scared of my baby. My best advice is this: you lot know each other better than anyone in the world and love each other more than anyone in the world. If you think she's willing to give that up and vice versa, you're both idiots."
Lewis nods. They stand in contemplative silence as the older man's hand comes up to clap against his shoulder, where he holds onto Lewis as they sip from their glasses. 
"You know," Lewis lights up, "that's where she gets that shit from; she called me an idiot when we argued."
"And were you being an idiot?" He queries.
"Well, Yes, sir."
"Okay then." He walks away not sparing so much as another word to Lewis and he is once again left alone.
You were relieved when dinner started, only to approach the table and see name cards posted in front of every seat. Just your luck. Right next to your seat, the postcard next to you reads Sir Lewis. 
This time, you physically couldn't control your reaction as you threw your hands on your hips, your eyes searching for someone to switch with. Just as you reached over to swap Lewis' and Anthony's place cards, the group approached, and everyone stared at you with inquisitive eyes as you slowly dropped them back into place.
You smiled, sliding into your designated seat, eyes straight ahead as your father and Lewis slipped into their own.
Lewis side-eyes you as he sees that it was his name you tried to swap. You were always so petty. 
You feel his stare on you and give him your back to face as you focus on your father who stands tapping his wine glass with a knife.
Like always your father begins to give a speech. You loved listening to him speak, even if he was lecturing you, he always managed to engrain some life lesson into your memory. 
"Welcome, family and friends. I want to first start off by saying I appreciate you all for coming; if you're here today, you're either family or a friend, so in the end, that makes you all family. No matter when or how I met you, you have touched a special place in my heart, and you've made this life of mine beautiful. We've all become connected somewhere along the line, and now, hopefully, we're stuck with each other for the rest of our lives. As each year goes on and I grow older with it, I am reminded of just how meaningful it is to carry relationships on with you from one year to the next. We've done that." He laughs.
"Most of us have been in each other's lives since the beginning, Anthony has been my best friend since we were nine." He chuckled tilting his glass at Lewis' dad. Anthony raises his own right back at him. 
"We've done everything together, damn near walked through each part of our lives together. He had a son, and months later, I had my daughter. Bam!" he laughs, and the table laughs with him. You smile at the mention of your father and his best friend; they were truly a pair like no other.
"Our friendship continues on through our children; we pass on our camaraderie; through our kids, we get more kids." He motions around to your friends. "And our family is even bigger. I've got my family, I've got my wife's family, Anthony's family, our children's family, and we're all now family. We've got each other for life! We're proof of that; we stick together and treat each other right, and if we don't, we always find our way back together again and start over because that's what a family does. Every year, you guys show up for me, and I show up for you. And I can't think of a better way to spend my birthday than with you. Life is beautiful and even more beautiful when you're spending it with the right people. So I thank you for being the right people."
There are no dry eyes after his speech. You reach over to hug him when he sits, pressing your lips to his cheek. "I love you, Dad."
Chatter emerges as everyone marvels at your dad's words. To your left, Lewis is quite emotional. His dad's arm comes up to pull his son into his side, and for the first time today, you watch him with no shame. He looks like a kid again in his dad's arms as he gets emotional, and your heart breaks.
It's not in your character to be mean to Lewis. You know this, which is why you haven't even bothered being a bitch to him, even though a part of you desperately craves to hurt his feelings like yours has been for the last two months. You pull your phone from your purse, and before you unlock it, his reflection glares at you from your blank screen. He isn't facing you but staring blankly ahead, and your resolve crumbles slightly.
He looks like little Lew, face set in a frown and tuned out to the world around him. You think back to all of the times he'd get into his own head, bothered about why the other kids didn't talk to him and why they were nasty to him when they did. How many times he's nestled into you the same way when he felt his heart take a hit.
He's always been a softie. Wearing his heart on his sleeve, it was one of the things you admired about him so much. His ability to let people see him fully. You were never good at that. If you were, you could gaurantee that you and Lewis wouldn't even be in this situation to begin with.
You are sure that you can hear your heart beating rapidly as you reach down and grasp onto his hand. You pretend to scroll mindlessly through your phone when you hear his breath hitch. Lewis struggles to keep his resolve as he intertwines his fingers with yours. He could cry again right now. 
Your dad was right; he'd always been right. You think back to the times when you were younger when you would tell him why you and Lewis were sitting so far apart. 
"Baby," he would lift your head with a gentle smile, "You know how many times Anthony got on my damn nerves or we had a quarrel, even with your mother. Just have to talk it out, right? That's the kind of friendship you don't let slip away, no matter what. And if he's mad at you, you fight for him. If you're mad at him, you fight for him. Don't ever let something ruin it when you could fix it before it gets bad."
When the food comes out, your stomach flips, sushi lines the table, and your insides feel like they're being shaken. You snatch your hand from Lewis' and toss it over your mouth as the fish is placed in front of you. 
"Baby, you love sushi." Your dad says, pushing your plate away from you.
"I don't know what-" You don't finish your sentence rushing away from the table in a put together manner, you hurry to the other side of the boat where you make it just in time to empty your stomach. Nothing comes out as you dry heave over the water. A hand comes to rub at your back and your hair is being held back.
"Hey, you okay?" It's Lewis and his tone is full of concern as his hand constanly moves in caring circles. 
You jump away from his comforting hands, throwing a glare in his direction. 
"What do you want?" you hiss, preparing to step down from the altitude of the railing. 
He holds out his hand ready to help you down and you almost reach for it before huffing and turning baack around folding your arms over the railing. If the sushi wasn't going to have you throwing up Lewis prescence surly would. You felt overwhelmed as he speaks up from behind you.
"Wow."
"Wow, what, Lewis?"
"So I'm Lewis now?" 
"Is that not your name?" You snap back.
You feel his body heat behind you, this time closer.
"Not to you, you know that though."
"Nicknames are for friends." 
"Shut up." He smacks his teeth.
"No!" you argue, turning around your chest bumps into his, "You shut up!"
 you both childishly bicker back and forth.
“What are you being mean to me for, huh? Don't say that."
"I've got a right to be mean to you."
"I don't got time for your nasty ass attitude right now." He says.
"Good. The fuck." you ramble, turning around, "nobody asked you to follow me."
"I followed you because you're still my best friend, stubborn ass."
"Couldn't tell." You rebutted.
"See, I'm trying to talk to you, y/n. Why say something like that? Stop acting like-." He groans.
"Like what, like a bitch?" You look at him over your shoulder, watching his face drop. "That's what I thought."
"I wasn't about to call you a bitch." 
Yeah, again, you think. 
You stand in silence for a while, listening to the sound of the water sloshing against the boat.
"Your dad has a knick for speeches." He announces, "Always targeting us, huh?"
"That's my dad for you."
"I-, you're still my best friend, that will never change. No matter how long we go without talking to each other."
"I know." It comes out as a sigh and you let out a groan, dropping your head into your folded arms.
"Why didn't you call me?" You ask, "I waited for you to call."
"I was scared, I knew I fucked up, and I think us having sex created a weird dynamic with it. I kinda felt like a booty call or something, I don't know; you trying to leave triggered something in me, made me feel like it wasn't..."
He lets out a sigh, and you know he has that hard thinking face on. "meaningful what we did together." He finally concludes.
"I thought that's what you would've wanted, I'm sorry."
"For other people, yes. But not my best friend."
And there are those two words again, like two blades slicing you in half, best friend, that's all you'd ever be.
Lewis was your best friend, nothing less, nothing more. This is all it'd ever be, and that thought alone, although valid, had you knuckling at your eyes.
"You okay, bunny?"
You can't help the sad smile that appears or the way your heart flutters at the nickname; no matter the situation, you'll always be his bunny.
You slump back against his chest as you step back from the railing. "I'm fucking dying," you whine, and he laughs at your dramatics. 
"You're not dying, love." He chuckles. He stands flush behind you, one arm coming around to dangle off your shoulder, the other holding your hand at your side. "How are you going to tell me?" You huff, and it seems as if nothing ever happened between you two as he turns you around and holds you close; he throws both of his arms over your shoulder, wrapping you into his tight embrace, and your face is crammed in his neck, breathing in his scent. 
And in that moment, you both could've sworn fireworks erupt in the sky as your hearts beat against each other's chest. It feels like the missing piece in your lives from the last two months has been returned, and the machine is running excellently.
"Because I know you, what's wrong, huh? Got a tummy ache." He coos. And his soft, caring tone has your stomach doing flips.
You don't know how long you stand there in his embrace before you finally wrap your arms around his torso.
"I'm still mad at you." You declare.
"I know." 
"I still want an apology."
"I'm sorry."
You feel your nausea ease away as you sway to the beat of his heart against your chest.
This is the first moment of relief Lewis has felt in two months, his heart is not in a panicked state and his mind is even better off. 
"I'm sorry for calling you an idiot. It's been bothering me since I said it." You announce, "I don't think you're an idiot. I still think you're the smartest person in the world."
Your eyes water as you apologize, and Lewis hears the sniffle you let out. You remember how much it hurt your heart to see Lewis struggle to catch on in school as a kid, the words the teachers would spit at him, and how he'd let it get to him. You never wanted to make him feel the same way.
"I don't want you to think of me like the rest of them."
Lewis grasps your shoulders, inching you away softly, "I'd never look at you that way," he declares. "I was being an idiot, I know how you meant it, bunny. I should be apologizing for what I said to you. I don't think you were being a bitch; I've never in my life thought about you that way or even remotely considered calling you out of your name. I was just mad."
His hands come up to cup your face, and his thumbs swipe away the wetness underneath your eyes. He sighs, pulling you back into him. "I don't ever wanna not talk to you again, fucked me up."
"But you never called me."
"Didn't think you wanted me to, didn't know what to do, you'd never been that mad at me before, was scared." He admitted.
"I thought you were finally done with me."
"Never that."
"Are we okay?" You examine.
"We're always going to be more than okay. It feels right with me still, yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Okay then, we're back like it never happened." He assured. 
And he thinks he can stay like this forever, you in his arms as the sunsets on the boat. He can't think of anything more peaceful than watching the sky change colors and the warm hues making your skin glow in the softest way as he revels in the comfort of your warm body and beating heart.
He wants to unleash his feelings right then and there, "I love you."
"I love you more." 
You both speak honestly, wishing that the other would return the same affection. Your parents watch on from above. 
"Wouldn't know if it hit them over the head." Your mom shakes her head sipping her wine.
"So in their face." Anthony exhales, throwing his hand up, "Mhmm, mhm, mhm."
"Those are our kids, damn idiots." Your dad finishes, but unlike his counterparts, he wears a knowing smile on his face. 
-
"There are a few things we need to clarify before we move on from this." You announce before you rejoin your family and friends.
"What's that?"
"That was a one-time thing for the sake of our friendship; no more sex, no more mentioning it; it never happened."
Lewis freezes in his spot, his arm falling from your shoulder as you take another step. You, too, freeze, turning around to take him in. 
He is standing, his eyes furrowed like he's in deep thought.
That would be an easy rule for him to follow if he wasn't struggling as you speak to think about anything other than you every day and how great you felt around him. 
"What?" You question.
"I-" he coughs, "I can do that."
"Don't make it weird." You warn, eyeing him.
"Was the best sex I've ever had in my life, though." He admits with a smirk. You push him away as he tries to wrap his arm around you again. 
"Goodbye, Lewis." You laughed, walking ahead of him.
He happily stays behind you, watching the way your bottom moves in the dress, and once again, he feels the same burning desire. He could get by without mentioning it if you wanted, but he was absolutely and completely sure you ruined him for anyone else. 
Ever since he could remember, his passionate moments never ensued without you flickering through his mind at least once to jump-start him. But actually having you, God he was sure he'd never see another woman again.
As you rejoin everyone else at the front of the boat, you once again see everyone spread out, and you realize just how long you'd been marveling at Lewis' presence as you notice the appearance of the moon.
You gasp as you see a serving bowl full of mango calling your name as you pass by the treat table. You pick it up with ease, stuffing your mouth as you approach your friends who, like always, have banded together in their own little world.
You make eye contact with Whitney, who is looking at you in pure wonder. You shoot her your own look of inquisition. When you take the empty seat beside her, she is still eyeing you like you have two heads.
"Girl, what?" you whisper, your mouth full of mango.
She shakes her head at you, turning and muttering under her breath. You slap her bare thigh, "what?" you whisper shout. 
"We'll talk about it later." She declares, throwing back two shots back to back.
"Whit," you whine, "you know I hate when you do that."
"Yeah, but trust me, later is better."
You sigh, turning away from her and getting back to eating your fruit as Lewis approaches the group and takes the seat beside Mori. "Someone’s happy." Miles teases.
You look up at him, and sure enough, there is a shit-eating grin covering his face. "More than happy."
Whit is still mumbling to herself as you stare back at Lewis, when you look at her she is digging through her bag, "No, there's just now way."
-
Sure enough, as soon as you make your way back to the villa, Whitney is dragging you away from the rest of the group and into your bedroom. Lewis shoots you a questioning look as she yanks you from your seat. You can only shrug at him as you trip over your own two feet.
 She opens the door to your connecting bathroom, waving her arms for you to enter dramatically after you just stand there and stare at her.
"Ouu, girl." You warn, walking past her, "I need you to start using some words."
When you step foot into the bathroom, she pushes something into your palm.
You angle your head down, realizing that what lies in your hand is a pregnancy test. You throw it at her in shock. "Eww bitch."
"It's not used, dummy." Whit catches it.
You gasp, reaching for her hands, "Oh my god! Are you pregnant?" You whisper shout, excitement seeping through.
"No!" She shouts back in a whisper closing your bathroom door. Your hands are cupped in front of your chest like an exicited child. She turns to face you again only this time she's adorning the most serious look she's ever given you. 
"I think you are, though."
Your hands drop down to your sides, one going to your hip that pokes out as you scoff.
"Whit." It's all you say.
"Y/n. Please just take it, ease my mind."
"What even makes you think I could be pregant whit." You huff pulling the stick from her waiting hand.
She sits on the side of the bathtub as you lift your dress and plop down onto the toilet.
"You've been feeling out of it for a while; at first, I thought it was the heat, but you've been having nausea and headaches long before this trip. The smell of alcohol makes you sick, and you're a fucking alcoholic, c'mon now-"
"I am not a fucking alcoholic-"
"The sushi! You fucking love sushi. Out of everything to eat, an entire fucking serving bowl of mangoes, so many fucking mangoes, Y/n!"
As she continues, you begin to feel nerves bubble in your gut as you tinkle onto the test.
Your heart drops to your ass as you put the pieces together. 
You haven't had a period in two months, which didn't raise any alarms before; irregularity was common for you. But now that you think about it, you have been unusually sick in the mornings and around certain foods and smells. You have been craving some things more than usual, and your scale shows a tiny bit of weight gain. 
Two months ago you had sex with Lewis. With no condom, and he came inside of you. He most definitely fucked his cum back into you. The memory has you clutching your chest with a gasp that made Whit reach out to catch you just in case you toppled over.
"Oh my fucking god." you gasp, pulling the stick from beneath you and tossing it onto the sink. You wipe yourself and then stand to wash your hands.
"Oh fuck." you panic, and your hands are coming up to grasp your head.
"On the bright side, if it's positive, you're a mommy. You've always wanted to be a mom!" Whit cheers softly.
You turn to her with quickness. "Yes, Whit! When I'm fucking married and settled down, not when I fucking-"
The alarm tone from Whit's phone has you shutting up mid-sentence.
"I set the alarm when you peed," she whispered meekly.
She motions for you to pick up the test, and you wanna tell her to get out when you see the excitement covering her face. 
You reach behind you, hand tapping blindly against the counter until the stick is in your hand.
You close your eyes and take a deep breath through your nose.
When you open your eyes, you see the result clear as day, which has you clutching your pearls.
"I'm going to pass out, I can't breathe."
"Let me see!" Whit all but shouts, jumping up, but you're already reaching for the door handle.
"Where are you going?" She shrieks as you swing the door open, leaving her behind.
"I need to tell Lewis."
"Oh boo," she pouts, "I understand he's your best friend and all, but at least tell me first, I'm the one who brought the test."
You turn to her with watery eyes and a look that tells her all she needs to know.
"Lewis is the baby's father?" She whisper shouts, jumping back like you've thrown cold water in her face.
"What the fuck? When did you sleep with fucking Lewis?" She ponders aloud. "Oh my god, is this why you two haven't been you two?"
"Whit," you groan. "I promise, I don't have the mental capacity to unpack all of this with you right now. There's a fucking baby growing inside of me, my best friend's baby and I don't know what to do with myself."
"Yeah," she nods sympathetically, "I'm sorry, yeah. You talk to Lewis and when you're ready I'll be here for you to lean on." She pulls you into a hig before grasping you by the shoulders. 
"Whatever you decide just remeber it's your choice, okay? You call the shots Y/n. You know I'll support you either way, and you know Lewis, he'll understand."
You sniffle, wiping your cheeks with the back of your palm.
"Get yourself together, mama, I'm going to send him in, okay?"
You nod and rush over to your closet. You pull a pair of sweats on and then pull off your dress and toss on an oversized hoodie.
There is a knock on your door before it gently creaks open. Lewis pokes his head through with a gentle smile.
"Hey, everything okay? Whit told me to meet you in here, I didn't know if she wanted to strangle me or hug me, but she said it was urgent."
You shove the pregnancy test into the pocket of your hoodie, stepping out of the closet.
He enters the room, gently closing the door. He approaches you with his arms already open, seeing the teary expression.
"Lewis, can you actually sit down for me. I have to talk to you about something."
He's not sure what he expects to come from your mouth, but it wasn't what he heard.
"I'm pregnant. It's yours."
You surely weren't expecting him to look so relieved. "Why are you looking so-"
"Are you sure?"
You scoff, crossing your arms, "Yes, I'm sure it's yours, you dick. I don't sleep around-"
"What, no! Are you positive that you're pregnant?"
"Oh." You halt, and you pull the test from your hoodie, watching as he approaches you. He takes it from your hands, looking at it with sparkling eyes, "Wow."
"Wow?" You question, "Lewis, I'm pregnant with your child. Freak out a little."
"Why," he asks, "Are you freaking out? How do you feel?" His eyes are no longer on the test in his hands but staring intently into yours.
"Yes, I am freaking out, there is a fetus in my womb."
"Yeah, yeah." He breathes. "Whew, talk to me. What do you want?"
"I- I want to." You shake your head, pushing past him to sit on your bed. He follows after kneeling in front of you and placing the test beside you.
"I am with whatever you want, you know that, right?"
"Yes, but."
"But nothing," Lewis states. "If you want to keep our baby, you keep it. I know you've always wanted a family."
"Exactly," you sigh, "a family."
"Bunny, we're already a family. I'll be there you know I will."
"What about everyone else? What will they say?"
"I don't care about other people or what they have to say. I only care about you and what you want."
"I want to keep it, and I understand if it's not something you want. Won't hold it against you; you didn't ask for-"
"You're losing me. I'm not just going to let you raise our kid on your own. I want people to know it's my child."
"Lewis, they're going to-"
"Once again, I don't care what people think."
"Oh my god, I'm going to be prancing around all jolly and happy carrying your child, and when people ask, I'll just say, oh yeah, Lewis and I had very erotic sex, and now I'm carrying his illegitimate child."
"Don't call my child illegitimate. What the fuck?" He smacks his teeth.
"My child," you state, mushing his head back.
His hands reach up and rest on each of your thighs. "Our child."
"Still illegitimate," you sigh. "What if I find a man who'll marry me pregnant? Does that still-"
"I'm the Dad." Lewis asserts, he knows you're joking, but the idea of another man marrying you, let alone claiming his child, has him ready to kill a man who doesn't even exist. Besides, he would marry you in a heartbeat.
This is all too real for you at the moment, and you find yourself letting out another whine, "My job, I have a job, Lew."
"You and I both know that I make more money than I can spend." He assures you, his hands now rubbing up and down your legs.
He looks like an excited puppy waiting at your feet.
"Lew, that's not realistic."
"Why not?" He scoffs.
"Because what if one day you start hating me and them I'm left alone with-"
"That could never happen, bunny, that'll never happen."
"I'm sorry, I'm just nervous. I've never had a baby before."
He laughs, pulling himself up onto the bed beside you and cupping your hands in his. "We'll figure it out together. Gonna be the best parents in the world."
"Our parents are going to die." You laugh.
"Your mom probably overheard the others chatting about how we'd probably end up having a family one day." 
"My dad still thinks we're going to marry each other one day. Ew, he's going to know I had sex with you." You cringe.
"Don't say it like you didn't enjoy it." He feigns offense.
"We know who enjoyed it more, Sir."
"I'm not denying it, don't call me that." His arm reaches back and pulls one of your pillows onto his lap.
"You horny fuck." You cackle, watching the sheepish look blanket his expression.
"I can't help it; you're calling me sir; you're carrying my child. That's two kinks in one." 
"Lewis!" you shriek, whacking him with your own pillow. 
"You do realize having sex has brought a lot of sexual tension to the surface, or is that just me?" 
You could talk about things with Lewis that would make other people uncomfortable without there being any problems at all.
"It was very charged." You agree, looking back at him as he leans back, his elbows holding him up.
"Just charged? I gave you my all, Girl." He flicks your head.
"Don't hit me, I'm with child." You joke, and he lets out a genuine laugh, his head falling back. "If I'm being honest, it was the best sex I've ever had, too."
He smirked at you, shrugging his shoulders like it's no big deal. "Yeah, get told that a lot, so."
You snatch the pillow from his lap launching it at his face as you laugh with him, "I bet. I always thought if we were to have kids they'd be best friends like us, now we're having a kid together."
Lewis always hoped that he had kids with you, so in a way this was a dream come true, he was one step closer to having you in every way he wanted. He had an inkling now that the possibility of the two of you being together was becoming more realistic than it'd ever been. 
You were agreeing to bring a life into this world with him, and he knows he's said it a million times, but this time he was absolutely sure, there was nothing and he means nothing that could ever make his love for you fade. He'd never stop loving you, if anything this announcement has made his desires increase tenfold. 
And he could only hope it'd possibly open your eyes to your own, there was no way a person could speak to another like that if it wasn't real. There was no way you could be so open to bringing a child into this world with him if you didn't treasure him too. 
Case in point, Lewis was done waiting on the sidelines.
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I luv luv luv y'all.
so here's part two!
I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
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nanaslutt · 2 days
Text
shameless
ʚ yuta x reader
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ʚ cont: fem reader, fluffy fluff, jealousy, possessiveness, clingy!yuta
note: congrats @dracrimes for winning my fic giveaway, I hope you enjoy ^.^
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT FOLLOW
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"Um...I'll take the brown sugar boba please!" You chirped to the young-looking waitor, who nodded and smiled as he took your order. "Is it gonna be normal sugar, hon?" He asked, tilting his head at you and squinting his eyes a bit as he voiced the pet name. You were so busy looking at the delicious desserts on the menu that you didn't hear the pet name, and you didn't notice the spike in Yuta's cursed energy. 
"I'll take it a little sweeter than normal please!" You asked, handing your menu to the man in front of you. Yuta's eyes were glued to where your hands met as the waiter's finger grazed across your own. "Extra sweet drink for an extra sweet girl." He said, winking at you. Your eyes opened a bit in surprise, but you ultimately shrugged it off, thinking he was joking. 
At this point, Yuta felt his blood boiling. Was he stupid? Was he so dense that he wasn't able to realize you were on a date right now, or was he so shameful that he didn't even care? Yuta wasn't used to feeling like this. It was rare that he experienced jealousy like this regarding another person. He balled his fist by his side and reached his hand across the table with one hand to adjust your bracelet which had gone crooked, a small show of affection in front of the waitor. 
"Are you getting anything Yu?" You asked sweetly, your chest swelling with love as you watched his fingers drag down your wrist to play with your fingers. Yuta looked up from your hands and smiled sweetly, his jaw clenching under the weight of his teeth as he tried to calm himself before he spoke. "I'm okay baby, I'll just have some of yours." You were unable to stop your eyebrows from shooting upward in surprise at the nickname. 
It was rare that Yuta used pet names with you, he always got so flustered whenever he tried, so you felt your heart jump when you heard the pet name. You missed the way the corner of the waiter's mouth twitched as he watched Yuta talk sweetly to you in front of him. It was quite obvious what he was doing. You on the other hand were in your own little world, listening to your internal voice scream as you replayed the nickname over in your head. 
After the waitor walked away, Yuta quickly got up from his place across from you and scooched into your side of the booth. "You're being so cute today, what was that?" You teased, tilting your head to the side at him as you took his hand in your own, resting your hands over your knee. "You never call me baby." Yuta felt his demeanor change the instant you had called him out. His face went red and he looked away, covering his mouth with his hand as he poorly disguised his embarrassment as a cough.
"I uh, I don't know. Just wanted to say it." He said bashfully, turning his head back your way. "So cute." You gushed, squeezing his hand tighter in your own. Yuta sighed and plopped his forehead down on your shoulder, his breath tickling your arm. "Don't tease me, I just wanted to try it out." He mumbled under his breath. You brought your other hand up and ruffled his hair, making him sit up and look at you with a slight pout as you continued to play with his hair. 
While Yuta looked into your eyes the only thing he could think about was how lucky he is, how grateful he is to call you his. And you were, you were his, not that waiter's. Yuta felt bad for feeling so malicious toward the waitor when you had no idea. Maybe he was overreacting, but it still stands that you were his, and he hated to see people hit on you so blatantly when he was sitting right there. He had enough of being treated like he was being invisible for an entire lifetime. It sucked being treated that way on his own, but it sucked even more when you were involved. 
"Alrightyy, here's that extra sweet boba for you, hun," Yuta swore he felt a blood vessel in his head pop when that same man's irritating voice echoed from behind him. Yuta still had a smile on his face while he looked at you, but the second he turned his head there was nothing but a smile on his face. He would never treat staff this way, but this time was different. He called you that stupid pet name not once, but twice now? 
The waitor had a blood-boiling smirk on his face as Yuta turned around, the two boys making eye contact with one another. You were blissfully unaware of their little rivalry as your mouth started to drool while staring at your drink in his hand. Yuta stopped his hand in motion by grabbing the cup in his own when he looked like he was trying to set it in front of you. "I got it," Yuta said coldly, not even daring to blink as he grabbed the cup from the weaker waitor with ease. 
"Right, just make sure you look on the side of the cup little lady, left a little something for you." The waitor explained, directing his focus on you and winking before he walked off. Yuta grits his teeth as he burns the face of that man into his brain, imagining what he would do to him if he could. "Yu look! The top is a bear how cute." You exclaimed, your voice instantly melting away some of the anxiety and malice he was feeling.
Yuta turned his head back to you and rested his head in his hand by placing his elbow on the table as he watched you enjoy your drink. "How is it?" He asked, his heart swelling with love as he watched your eyes light up with joy. "It's soooo good! Try some." You offered, holding the drink up to his lips. He hated to hear you praise the drink that man made, but he closed his mouth around the straw and sipped down some of the liquid. It was a little too sweet for his taste, but it was fitting for someone like you. 
"Good huh?" You said, smiling as you pulled the cup away from him. Yuta watched curiously as your smile turned into confusion as your eyes read something on the side of the cup. "Oh..." You said, looking uncomfortable all of a sudden. "I think the waitor left his number on my drink." You said, your expression dropping as you turned the cup around to face Yuta. 
The inside of Yuta's head felt like a battlefield as he sat up and grabbed the cup, reading the number over. He took a special interest in the little heart on the side of the cup. "I thought the names he was calling me were a little weird, but I think it's pretty obvious we're together." You laughed. Yuta found nothing funny about the situation, he wanted to throw the drink and the soiled cup at the shameless employee, but he had to hold himself together for you.
"You okay Yuta, don't let it bother you, okay?" You said, caressing his cheek and taking the drink back from him. "I'm fine." He nodded, leaning into your touch. He wanted nothing more than to get out of the shop and go back home with you. Spend some time watching a movie or sitting in the garden alone with you, where he doesn't have to worry about other people ogling you or trying to take you away. 
"Is it okay if we leave?" Yuta asked, grabbing your hand that held his face. You felt your heart skip a beat as you watched Yuta close his eyes and bask in your touch. You think you were starting to catch on to why Yuta was being so uncharacteristically clingy, but you didn't want to say something and make him stop acting so cute. "Of course, you feeling okay?" You asked, letting him hold your hand.
"I'm okay, just wanna leave now. Getting a little tired." He said, smiling softly at you. You nodded and began to gather your things. "I'll throw this away for you." Yuta offered sweetly, picking up your finished cup of boba. Yuta made a point to find the trash can closest to the register, where the boy from earlier was standing, waiting for customers. Yuta watched him like a hawk, hoping he would notice him throw the cup with his number on it away. Sure enough, the boy looked over and watched with raised eyebrows as Yuta threw the drink away with a little more force than necessary, the trash shaking from the impact.
The boy sucked his teeth and squinted his eyes at Yuta, watching him turn his back on him and walk back to your table. "Ready?" Yuta offered, holding his hand out for you as you got up to sit from the booth. "Mhm." You smiled, letting him take your hand in his and walk out of the cafe. "I'm actually glad you said something, I was getting a little tired myself." You said as you walked hand in hand down the street, drinking in what was left of the sun before it set soon. 
"I'm glad, I didn't want to ruin anything if you wanted to stay," Yuta said, resting his head on the top of your head as you walked together. You smirked and squeezed his hand tighter. "That guy really bothered you huh?" You asked, slowing as you walked up to a crosswalk and hit the button, watching the cars go by. Yuta felt his face heat up as he rubbed the back of his head. You tilted your head at him and smiled, watching his eyes dart around as his face scrunched in embarrassment.
"It's okay Yu, I love you and only you. I don't even remember his face if that makes you feel better." You giggled, smiling up at him. Good thing Yuta remembered his face well enough for the both of you. He wasn't going to let him off the hook so easily. Maybe he would have Panda and Inumaki call the establishment over and over again and complain about him to get him fired. That would make him feel better. Yeah, he would probably do that, and you didn't have to worry about a thing.
Yuta stepped towards you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, holding you tightly against his chest. "Good, because I don't either," Yuta replied, lying in his words. He would never forget such an ugly face so easily. You rubbed your face against his chest and squeezed him tightly, so tight he let out a funny noise of discomfort as you squeezed all the air from his lungs before pulling away. 
"Don't be jealous okay? We can spend the rest of the day cuddling in my room when we get back." Yuta couldn't help the smile that spread across his face as he looked at you, his heart brimming with joy and satisfaction. He nodded and let you escape his grasp fully as you took his hand in your own and started walking across the street, dragging him along with you. "Just an FYI though, I like it when you're clingy with me, it's cute." You giggled, looking back at him.
"Alright, alright," Yuta said, waving his free hand in front of him, trying to get you to change the topic. You giggled at his embarrassment as he stumbled over his own feet while crossing the street. Yuta was so lucky to have someone as comforting as you as a partner, already he felt the malice from earlier melt off of his body, but the need to hold your hand tightly still prevailed until long after the two of you got back to the dorms.
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katsukikitten · 3 days
Text
Actress reader and Actor Bakugou have to enact a sex scene. Of course they've got one of those little modesty covers for his dick and for you but you'll still look naked in the shot.
But there is just something about the way that he's grinding into you, his cock hard from the action of course and since your characters hate each other (just like in real life) it's supposed to be a rough passionate scene, it's hate fucking after all! Your moaning only gets louder the more he "fucks" into you echoing around the studio with tons of people looking over the two of you but his eyes are trained on you and when he thinks he hears something a little more than the over the top obvious fake sounds your character is meant to give, when it ebbs into something real (fake to real sounds per the script) he gets a little too into his character.
"That's right, take it, take this cock. Mould to me so that every other man knows that you're mine and mine alone, princess."
"You'll have to fuck me harder than that to make me cum, prince." Spitting back the title his character so hates and the nickname you've come to call him off set and in interviews if only to burrow under his skin. His eyes flash with anger and for a moment you think you've regained control.
But his thrusts come harder after that and suddenly you're trying to cover your face with your arms but he moves to pin them to the plush pillow over head. His voice rough, deep, panting out in such a mind numbing growl.
"No, I want to see the exact moment I ruin you."
Covered cock somehow grinding against your clothed slit just right, your clit throbs from the repeated action, making you lock your ankles around his waist.
Head thrown back to expose your throat that he comes down to bite as he "cums" just as he's supposed to although the lines were wholly improvised. Shuddering over top of you with his tongue lapping up the rough teeth marks he's left on your pretty skin. Pulling away to grab your jaw roughly, rutting into you with pained groans as his tongue slips into your mouth "prolonging" your release and his.
"CUT!" Comes the doctor's voice, slicing through the tension reminding you both exactly where you are. Bakugou pulls away but not too quickly, grabbing at the blankets to cover you even if the whole world was going to see your tits bouncing from his rough thrusts thanks to the network allowing borderline soft core porn on air.
"Let's take fifteen to review and recenter!" Comes the directors sharp voice and so Bakugou helps you up on shaking legs, pressing you into his side as he walks around in nothing but that "modesty" covering.
"Wow! That seemed so real you did the fake to real moaning so well!" People linger to pass you compliments until they see Bakugou snarling down at them, rushing away from the always grumpy actor. He makes sure you're sat on the couch in your dressing room, both of you lock eyes for a moment and it's obvious by his smirk that this jackass can't help but stroke his own ego.
"Ya that sure was a performance from you, ya know I almost would have thought it was real, princess." He mocks you, giving you some knowing look as your cheeks still burn from how good he was from grinding alone.
"In your fuckin dreams Prince." He can only suck his teeth and chuckle darkly at your retort. Going to cup his fat length and sac, a squishing sound can be heard and it makes you hyper aware of the wetness between your thighs. He pulls away his hand slowly, silvery strings connect to the thin fabric and his fingers before they snap and he looks up at you. Smiling devilishly, palming his damp cock sticky from more than just you but you don't have to know that.
"Then I must be dreaming huh?"
502 notes · View notes
imaginaryf1shots · 3 days
Text
His Sister | Lewis Hamilton
WC: 4.6K
Lewis Hamilton X Verstappen!Reader
Max Verstappen X reader!Sister
Summery: You have always been there for your brother, giving up everything for him, so when you decide to date his rival, what will he do.
Warnings: age gap(age not specified) mention of abuse, Jos Verstappen is an a-hole, Max is also an ass, bad childhood, bad father, cursing, alusion to smut but no actual smut
AN: this had me in tears at some parts, I was going, why did he do this 😭 as if I didn't write it, lol
Hope you all enjoy
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Growing up, Verstappen wasn’t easy. Growing up with Jos Verstappen as your guardian and the one that has custody is hard. Being the oldest, Verstappen is damn near impossible. Could you have chosen to live with your mother? Yes, but that would’ve left Max alone with Jos, something you weren’t about to do. Admittedly you were young yourself, but even at a young age you knew that if Max was left with Jos alone it wouldn’t turn out good for your brother, you’ve always been motherly and have so much love in you that you just shared it with those around you and your siblings got the most of it. It made perfect sense to you as a young girl to leave your life with your mother and sister and go with your brother and father.
At one point you were the one Karting, you loved cars and karting since you were young, with both parents into motorsport it was hard not to, and even Jos couldn’t deny how good you were, but alas you’re a female and there’s no way you’d make it all the way to F1, something that Jos loves to remind you of. That’s the reason he stopped you from going once Max started winning in karting, and he wanted to focus on his child, who would achieve all his personal dreams and make it into F1. Maybe it’s your love for the sport that made it easier but you enjoyed every time you went to a track and watched the karts race, you dreaded after the races though, to Jos anything but first is a failure. On days like that, you’d follow your father and stand in his way, he’d shout at you and push you around, and you’d take it all in all in the hope that by the time he reached Max he wouldn’t be angry, or at least you’d take the blunt end of his anger. That didn’t always happen and on those days you’d just stay with your brother holding his hand, walking with him home in the cold, in the rain and in the heat of the sun, never letting him go through a punishment alone and never letting him go through your punishments.
It was all in the hope that Max would reach F1 one day, and he did, he’s in Formula 1 now, he’s been there since he was 17, he skipped so many steps and jumped into Formula 1, he went from Toro Rosso to RedBull in a record time and he was racing with legends and world champions before you had time to comprehend it. All whilst you watched him from the garage, as a family member and a part of his team, never missing a race. Driving him around when he didn’t have his driver’s licence, hugging him after each win and DNF, picking up the pieces after a scolding from Jos and tearing up when he got his first win. Always smiling and happy for him no matter what.
You’d think now that you’re all older, the talk from your father wouldn’t affect you, that you’d get used to his words, and they won’t affect you. But he’s your dad. It never gets easy.
So here you are standing at the back of the garage you’re both watching the screen, when the camera cuts to you, you smile a bit before it cuts off back to the race, with one pull you’re away from prying eyes of people in the garage. Only the few people at the back could see you.
“What?” You ask your dad with a frown. His grip on your bicep is like iron. You hold in a wince and look him in the eye.
”What was that?” He whisper shouted, you looked at him confused. “Don’t give me that stupid look. How many times have I told you, I don’t like that look.”
”I’m just confused, I don’t know what you mean.” You explain yourself and try to act normal, all while knowing it’s about to get worse, he’s in a mood, Max’s race hasn’t been going like he’d like, he’s currently in second with Checo in first, something bad in your dad’s books.
”Don’t play stupid, I know what you’re playing at.” Jos squeezes more, and you’re bound to have a bruise by tomorrow morning.
“I’m literally doing nothing.” You move trying to pull your arm out of his grip, and he lets go of you but leans down in your face.
”I saw that look you gave the camera, don’t ruin your brother’s image.” You close your eyes and bite your lip, and it takes you a few seconds before you neutralise your expression into blankness. “Don’t look like a slut, it could affect the sponsors.”
”But I wasn’t.” You mutter, but he just scoffs.
”Don’t. Play. Games. With. Me.” With each word through his fretted teeth, he poked/pushed you with his finger at your shoulder, having you move back every time.
”I’m not.” You insist. Thankfully, before he can reply, someone clears their throat, making you both look to the side to see Hemlut standing there. He doesn’t look amused.
”Keep your family affairs out of the garage, please.” Was all he said before he turned to look at the screen. It takes everything in you not to roll your eyes, giving your dad one last look you turn and go watch the race from a different spot in the garage as far away from him as you could get.
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Max ended up winning the race, with Lewis second and Charles third. So all was good in the end, your brother won the race, your dad was back in his happy mode, and your day was ruined. You rushed with the crowd to congratulate Max on his win. Your brother comes to you for a hug. You kiss his cheek as you always do and pat his back.
”Congratulations Maxie.”
”Thanks.” He gives you a big smile before he’s rushed to get weighed, you look at Ferrari as they congratulate Charles, the sea of red eye catching, looking around you don’t see any Mercedes dressed personal in the vicinity. Your eyes then fell to the 7 times world champion, he’s sitting on the floor looking tired, his eyes swept over the teams looking for his own. You feel bad for him. His family must not be here today, and his team didn’t bother to show up for him.
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Later that day, you found yourself pulled to a club to celebrate another Max win, you’re usually up for the celebration, but after what happened at the garage, you weren’t feeling up to it. However, you can never say no to Max when he asks you to do something all nice and loving, so that’s how you ended up here. In a random club, with a lot of Formula 1 workers from all teams and FIA, they’re all having the times of their lives as if they’re not rivals and hate each other, every other day of the week. You’ve sat down the moment you walked in and haven’t moved, drinks coming to you, but you’ve only been sipping light ones, not wanting to get drunk and deal with a headache in the morning.
An hour in, you head to the bar to order water or a soda, not in the mood to drink more. With a sigh, you lean on the bar and wait for the bartender to make his way to you, looking bored out of your life.
”You don’t look like you’re having fun.” Someone says, coming up to stand beside you, the accent familiar, but you couldn't pinpoint why before you turn and your eyes fall on a pair of brown eyes.
”Not really.” You say and shrug, turning so you’re both facing each other. “I mean you’re the first person to come up to talk to me in the last hour or something.”
”I don’t believe that, a beautiful woman like you.” Lewis gives you a small smile, and you chuckle, playfully rolling your eyes.
“I know, right, and here I dressed up, only for it not to work.” You say a tone of amusement lanced into your words, liking this banter going back and forth.
”I wouldn’t say it’s not working.” Lewis says and looks you up and down, you blush under his gaze but the smile doesn’t drop from your lips, the bartender comes up to you right then and asks you for your order, you ask for a glass of water and a soda, before he turns to Lewis who doesn’t ask for a drink. “You’re not drinking?”
”I had a couple of drinks, but I don’t feel like getting drunk.” You tell him, and he hums, you lean closer as if you’re going to say a secret. “Between you and me, I didn’t want to be here anyways.”
”Me neither, why are you here?” Lewis asks, you look around the club, and your eyes fall onto your brother having the time of his life with his friends.
”Because my brother wanted me to come.” You say not looking away from Max, who was smiling and enjoying himself, it brings a smile to your face seeing him carefree. Your favourite type of Max.
”You’re Max’s sister.” At Lewis’ words, you realise he didn’t know who you were, your head snaps to look at him and give him the smallest of smiles, a defeated look hiding behind your eyes. As if you’re expecting the worst.
”Yeah, is that a problem?” You ask him already knowing what he’ll say. Your brother is his biggest rival. There’s history between them, and it’s not all rainbows and sunshine. Just because they have respect for each other doesn’t mean they love the other.
”No, you’re not Max.” This did surprise you, and it showed on your face, Lewis winked, and you shook your head. “Do you want to head out of here?”
”Sure.” With that, you and Lewis turn and head out. Everyone’s too drunk or too occupied to see your retreating figures.
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Let’s just say that you enjoyed your night, Lewis isn’t just good at racing. He did convince you to stay the night after everything was said and done, with his eyes half lidded and you both breathing hard it was the easiest yes you’ve ever said.
You woke up alone with the shower going in the background, feeling lazy. You sat up in bed and looked out the window. The view from his room was beautiful. You’re so lost in thought you don’t realise when the water stopped running or when Lewis came in the room. He stood there looking at you, your back bare for him to see, your hair messy, the sun coming from the windows making you glow. Lewis, dressed in only his boxers, moves to the bed and slots himself behind you, his bare chest meeting your back as his arms sneak around your waist, pulling you back. You lean into his chest and take a deep breath, content with the moment. Lewis’ lips find their home where your neck meets your shoulder, placing soft feather-like kisses up and down the exposed skin, you move your head to the side giving him more room to do as he wants.
”Lewis.” You moan suddenly breathless, Lewis moves his hands up your arms lightly before you wince in pain, making him stop all movements and pull away from you. You freeze and close your eyes instantly, knowing why you were in pain.
”What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” Lewis asks, feeling guilt for causing you pain. You shake your head no and sigh, still not looking at him.
”No, no, it’s not you.” Lewis looks at where his hands were and he sees the bruise on your bicep, his mind goes to last night and he thinks over his actions, did he hold your bicep, maybe squeezed a bit too hard. It definitely looks like hand marks. You stand up still naked and snatch Lewis’s shirt from the night before from the floor where you threw it and slip it on. The oversized shirt falls mid thigh, and the short sleeves come down to your elbows covering your bruise.
”Who the fuck did this to you?” Lewis follows you off the bed, you turn to look at him crossing your arms protectively, suddenly feeling self conscious, you refuse to meet his eyes and clear your throat but no words came out of your mouth. “y/n, just tell me what happened?”
”It’s nothing. He didn’t mean to.” You mutter and shake your head, your hair falling into your face.
“Who? Who did it?” Lewis pleaded with you and you closed your eyes and bit your lip to stop the tears, it wasn’t a secret how rough your father is especially in the RedBull garage but no one outside a few observant people(which don’t include Max) know how rough he is with you.
”My dad, but he was just angry. He’s not like that, not anymore.” You mumble the last part, but Lewis heard it loud and clear, and just like yesterday, he surprises you. Lewis pulls you in for a hug, his tattooed arms just pulling you close, and he holds you. He just holds you.
”Bloody hell, love, I’m sorry.” Lewis says in your hair, and you raise your head to look at him, but still staying in his hold.
”You have absolutely no reason to be sorry.” You tell him and your hands move up to his face, lightly touching his cheek, your eyes taking him in. “I don’t really care.”
“It still doesn’t make it right. You shouldn’t go through something like this.” Lewis says, and you shrug.
”Life isn’t really fair.” He felt that there’s more behind those words. You didn’t just mean what happened the day before. There’s more pain in your voice, in your past, and to him, it looked like no one took the time to talk to you about them to help you through those pains. Lewis finds himself wondering why, he’s known you for less than 24 hours and all he wants to do is get to know you, uncover all your secrets, help you where you need help, support you where you need support.
”Well, if you let me, I think I can make it a little more fair.” Lewis says, deciding that this isn’t the last time he’ll spend time with you. He pulls back and goes to his bedside table where his phone rests.
”What are you talking about?” You ask him confused.
”Give me your number, I’m taking you out next time we’re both free.” Lewis says and hands you his phone. You slowly take it and look up at him with wide eyes.
”You want to go out with me? like on a date?” You wanted to make sure you understood him correctly.
”I do.”
“Even though you know I come with baggage.” You want to make sure he understands it won’t be easy.
”I don’t think it’s baggage, but even if it was, I don’t care.” Lewis gives you one of his smiles that make you weak in your knees, and you don’t think twice and type in your number. Lewis instantly calls you, and your phone rings before he ends the call. “Now you also have my number, and if you ever need something, or someone or a place to just call me.”
”Thank you.”
”I haven’t done anything yet, love.”
”Oh you’ve already done a lot.” Most people would act as if nothing happened and they saw nothing, most wouldn’t want to go out with you knowing there’s a lot in your past that needs solving, most wouldn’t go out with their rival’s sister, but most aren’t Lewis Hamilton, and you’re glad he’s not like the most.
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You and Lewis start texting, getting to know each other. You see a side to the Mercedes driver you’ve never seen before. He’s so easy to talk to. You feel like whatever you tell him is a secret he’ll take to the grave. In the couple weeks since you’ve started talking you’ve been more open with him than anyone else, not just about your past and growing up with Jos but about your feelings. He never judges and gives the best advice. He’s been supportive and understanding to a point you’ve asked yourself how he is real.
You asked him to keep your budding friendship (turing relationship) a secret and he agreed 100% with you, it’ll cause a lot of trouble when and if it comes out, and you’re not ready for that. And for the first time in forever you don’t spend your free time between races where Max is, you fly to wherever Lewis is, and so for a month you both find that time to get to know the other in a way that you’ve never done before, and you find yourself being Lewis’s girlfriend and it makes you the happiest thinking about it. He’s made you happier, and those closest to you have noticed you’re more smiley and happy those days.
Sneaking around like children, not two adults was part of the fun, but it also made it harder for you.
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”What are you smiling at?” Kelly asks, leaning closer to you. You close your phone in an instant to the amusement of your brother’s girlfriend. Max was in a meeting or doing something for media, so you and Kelly were having lunch in the paddock.
“Nothing.” You say, and your face flushes red, making her laugh.
”Come on, I can tell you’re texting someone.” Kelly laughs and nudges you. You roll your eyes and take a sip from your drink. “Who is he?”
”Nonone.”
”So there’s someone.” Kelly raises her eyebrows, and you sigh and nod your head. Yes, Kelly squeals and looks like she’s ready for a gossip session.
“Kelly, you’re not getting more out of me.” You tell the female, and she pouts.
”Why? Even Max is wondering who you’re texting all the time.” Kelly is confused, and rightfully so, you’re very open with her and Max. Not the type to keep something like this a secret. Or so they thought, but how can they be 100% sure when you haven’t been with anyone for years or even shown interest in anyone.
”That’s why I can’t tell you.”
”What? you can trust me, I won’t tell him if you don't want to.” Kelly felt offended that you didn’t trust her to keep a secret. She’s close to you. Anyone close to Max is close to you. His friends are your friends.
”I wouldn't do that to you, if he found out you knew and didn’t tell him he’ll get mad.” You explain to her, wanting her to understand where you’re coming from.
”No he wouldn't.” Kelly replies, and you give her a look making her sigh, Max is protective, and no one is good enough for you in his eyes. “Okay maybe he will be, but who could you be dating for you to be so sure he’ll get mad, anyways.”
“I love you, Kells, but I can’t tell you.” You both sat in silence for a bit, Kelly was thinking of any possible men you might’ve come across the last month, she started crossing some out of the list she made in her mind that you wouldn’t like, before her eyes went wide.
”It’s a driver!” She shouts, and a few eyes snapped to look at you both. You choke on your drink and cough a few times. “Sorry.”
”What the fuck Kelly, you want to tell the whole world?” You whisper shout and she looks apologetically muttering sorry.
”It’s a driver then.” She whispered and you reluctantly nod, who knew this lunch would cause you so much. “I’m not going to push you for more… yet.”
”Well thank god for that.” You mutter, but know that she’ll look and analyse every single interaction you have with any driver. Kelly went over the 19 drivers, crossing out those in a relationship. Nico, Kevin, Valtteri, Daniel, Checo, Carlos, Pierre, Alex, Esteban, Charles, Oscar, and George are all in a relationship. That narrows it down, but it’s still a bit, but a few are still single. Fernando, Lewis, Lance, Zhou, Lando, Yuki and Logan that left her with 7 drivers that are single, and you’re at the age that dating someone older would raise a few eyebrows and so would dating some of the younger drivers, but it wouldn’t be totally out of the box. Lance is the one closest to you in age, but she doesn’t think he’s your type.
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After the Austin Grand Prix, Lewis makes it to your room, and a few teams booked their rooms at the same hotel, something that you’ve come to appreciate. Your room isn’t as big as Lewis’s but it just happened that he made it to your room, the brit, and you decided to chill and have a lazy night. The TV was on, but you both weren’t focused on it, each having a glass of Almave in hand, the non alcoholic drink your new favourite and it looked like you’d never run out of it.
You just finished telling Lewis about something that happened when you were younger and still karting, telling him about all the drama that happened then and how silly it is. His arm was on the back of the sofa beides your head, your legs over his lap, and his other hand was on your thigh rubbing softly at the skin visible from your bunched up shorts.
”Why did you stop karting?” Lewis asked, your smile from laughing wasn’t all gone yet, but it did falter a bit. You suck in your lips and run your tongue over them.
”My dad said that there’s no place for women in motorsport and that Max will carry the family name in Formula 1.” You shrug, your head dropping a little. The hand besides your head moves to your face making you raise your head and look at him, Lewis felt bad for you but he tried not to be obvious about it, he knew you wouldn't want him to.
“I know for a fact then if you continued, you’d be kicking all out asses on track.” Lewis said softly, and you gave him a tight-lipped smile.
”You haven’t even seen me karting.” You tell him softly and find that your breath hits his face from how close you’ve gotten.
”Next time we meet up, we’ll do that.” Lewis said and gave your thigh a squeeze. You hum and lean closer, your lips meeting his. His lips were warm and soft, his hand moving from your cheek to the back of your head. And as always, his lips made a spark ignite inside you and left you warm and fuzzy. Soft sighs left your lips as your lips moved, Lewis’s hand moved up your thigh and over your butt, tugging you so you’d move with him until you’re standing him. You pull back just a little, your breath mingling with his, his eyes looking at you and making you fall in love with him.
”Lewis.” Just the way you said his name left him breathless and needy, he pulled you down for your lips to meet again.
You’re both disturbed when Lewis’s phone rings, you move from on top of him and he reaches over to get his phone, seeing the caller ID he gives you an apologetic look and answers the phone. You sigh sadly, feeling a bit irritated to be interrupted, but Lewis is a busy man, and she understands this.
“I’m sorry, love, but I have to go.” Lewis leans over to kiss your head before hastily gathering his things. “It’s an emergency meeting, I’ll text you when I’m done and come back.”
”Okay, I’ll wait for you.” You say and lay back on the sofa taking out your phone to scroll through the TV is still going. Around half an hour later, your door is opened, making you raise your head and frown when you see Max walking in.
”How did you get in?”
”I have a card.” Max shows you the door card that had your room number on it.
”Why?” You ask him confused. He also relieved that he hadn’t come in when Lewis was still here.
”You’ve been losing yours a lot lately, so I thought to just ask for one.” Max shrugged as if it’s normal, he sat down in the chair by your legs so you could look at him, you rolled your eyes at his words, not needing to ask how the front desk gave it to him. You haven’t been losing your cards. You’ve been asking for an extra one to give to Lewis.
“What’s that?” Max asks, and you don’t bother looking up from your phone.
”What’s what?”
“That.” You sigh and sit up, looking to where your brother is pointing, your heart drops. Lewis forgot his watch, and it’s laying there on the side table that had a lamp on it, and it’s so very obvious not yours. The IWC Big Pilot’s Watch Perpetual Calendar ‘Lewis Hamilton’ Edition IW503002 is a beauty, but no way can it be yours. You curse Lewis in your mind for taking it off when he first came in. You open your mouth and close it a couple of times, trying to find words to say but coming up empty. “I’ve seen this before.”
”I don’t think so.” You say nervously, chuckling. Max frowns in thought as he tries to remember where he had seen the watch before.
”No I’ve seen it, I remember the red.” Max mumbles, and the moment he remembers you can tell, his face says it all. “L-Lewis? That’s who you’ve been seeing behind my back.”
”Max-“
”No you had your chance to tell me, but you didn’t.” Max stands up, and you follow suit. His voice is angry and irritated, a bit of betrayal in there as well. “How could you date Lewis and not tell me how could you even date him, I can’t believe you’d do something like this!”
”I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d get angry, and I didn’t want you to be angry.” You try to explain to him your reason, but he’s having none of that.
”Because I’m calm now.” Max says sarcastically.
”Max, this is why I didn’t tell you.” Your hands move in frustration, one of your legs shake in anxiety, and you whisper. “I knew you wouldn’t understand.”
”What is there to understand? You’re sleeping with my rival.” Max shouts, it breaks you. Max may have this image as the villain in public but he’s not like that with you, he’s always been nice and loving, you’re the best thing about his childhood, the warm hug he had, the person he relayed on, the person that could always make him smile. Seeing the look in his eyes makes tears gather in yours. “y/n, I can’t believe you. After everything you’re just, what? Selling yourself to Lewis-“
”Max.”
”-Do you have any idea-“
”Max.”
”-how this can affect my image-“
”Max, please.”
”-I thought I could count on you not to do something like this-“
”I didn’t.”
”-Dad was right.”
”Wh-what?” This just breaks you in two, completely shatters you.
”He said that you’re an attention who-“
”Okay enough.” You say and raise your hands in the air to stop him, tears leaving your eyes freely. “Please leave, I can’t hear you anymore, I can’t.”
Max fights the need to say sorry and hug you. He’s too in his emotions, and he’s too stubborn and hardheaded to say anything.
”Just leave, please.” Max turns and leaves your room. The quality time he wanted to spend with you is ruined. The moment the door closes, he feels like his relationship with you is forever changed. It cracked, and he curses himself for being so careless with his words.
NEXT
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Hello! I was wondering if I could maybe as for Malleus, Azul, Idia, Vil, and maybe Leona with an S/o who tests the Orange peel theory on them?
The orange peel theory being the theory in which someone requests their significant other to peel an orange for them. If they say yes, then it means they are willing to do small tasks for their lover. If they say no, it may suggest they are less willing to offer support.
If you can’t then that’s good I just wanted to ask.
Azul Ashengrotto:
Azul sighed, looking at the orange in your hand and then back to you with raised eyebrows. Were you serious? You couldn’t peel your own orange? He let out another sigh, mumbling that you were truly hopeless without him before taking the orange from your hands. He removed his gloves (as cleaning them was more of a hassle than cleaning his bare hands) and expertly peeled away the skin, giving a beautiful presentation on your plate before sliding it back over to you. He quickly went back to his work but you did note that he completely stopped what he was doing in the middle of it to attend to your silly request.
Idia Shroud:
In the middle of a raid?! These relationship QTE’s continued to get harder the longer you were together, but he feared the consequences of failing one. He quickly typed in the chat to his teammates before setting his character on auto, fumbling with the orange and trying to peel it as quickly as he could while making sure he didn’t go down in flames in the virtual world. He handed it back to you wordlessly when he was done as he was locked back in again, letting out an agonized cry when he realized he forgot to wipe his hands so now his keyboard and mouse were hopelessly sticky.
Leona Kingscholar:
There’s something that Leona picked up in your tone that indicated this was a test of some sort, and while not knowing exactly what you were up to, he wasn’t about to fail. He did complain that you married into royalty and therefore had access to some of the perks, including servants who’d be more than happy to peel an orange for you. He was peeling it for you as he complained at least, and he retracted the orange before you could grab it and asked if he’d get a proper reward for listening so closely.  
Malleus Draconia:
Malleus it not used to being asked to do such domestic tasks. It seemed natural that everyone around him just attended to his needs and, by extension, your needs as well. Seeing as you were asking him directly to do something for you he couldn’t help but be excited about the prospect, feeling a sense of pride that you’d trust in him even if it was a simple task. He peeled the orange with a smile on his face, peeling off a piece of the actual fruit and holding it up as he asked if you’d like him to feed you as well.
Vil Schoenheit:
Vil was curious about what you were doing that was so important you couldn’t peel your own orange, weighing the options of asking and deciding it’s easier to just acquiesce. You didn’t ask him for things often while you often wordlessly retrieved things for him during his intricate skincare routines, so he didn’t see the harm in repaying your kindness. He’s also happy that you’re eating something healthy, although he doesn’t know the exact benefits oranges might have on your skin—he’ll have to look it up once he’s done his careful work, handing over the most beautifully peeled orange you’d ever seen in your life.
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anothermansjeans · 3 days
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you know how to ball, i know aristotle
s.r x f!reader
summary: spencer's love feels so high school
warnings: none!
wc: 689 (she's short!)
a/n: inspired by so high school!! i have 50 different fics planned after listening to ttpd.......be prepared
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It felt childish in a way. The way Spencer feels his cheeks flush and a chill run down his body whenever she’s near him. The constant butterflies. The shyness he feels when she's around. The high he gets from being near her. It feels like he’s a teenager in love.
Right now, the feeling remains as he watches Y/N and the rest of the team that fills the bullpen play a makeshift game of basketball with a trash bin and crumpled up paper. Whenever she makes a basket, she snaps her head over to him to see if he was looking– of course he was– and his chest fills with pride. Once her turn was over though, his head went right back down to his current read, something about Greek philosophers.
“Pretty Boy!”
His head immediately went back up at the sound of Morgan calling out to him. “Hmm?”
“We need reinforcements. Your girl is kicking our asses over here.”
A red wave flooded his neck, making its way up to his face, and he moved his chair back the tiniest bit, giving a small nod as he tried to hide his shy smile. He felt the way one would if they were asked to play kiss, marry, kill with their crush’s name thrown in there. Honestly, he’d be content if she did all three to him.
From there on, the game went terribly. While Y/N was making shot after shot, Emily was barely making it around the rim, Derek made it every other time, and Spencer was so far off it was pointless in asking him to join (but he knew the ball wasn't weighted properly, and he’d die on that hill). It didn't take long for those who were losing to become uninterested in the game, so everything eventually went back to business.
That was until Spencer felt a pair of hands gently knead into his shoulders.
Normally, he would tense up immediately. He wouldn't want to be touched– he’d be questioning why someone was touching him. But he knew it was Y/N. He’s become accustomed to her delicate touch; the smell of her lotion; the light reflecting off of the promise ring he bought her for their last anniversary. She would massage his shoulders until he was completely relaxed against her, allowing her to lean forward more and wrap her arms around his neck, placing her chin on his shoulder.
“I had a lot of fun earlier. You did well.”
He let out a giddy laugh as he craned his neck in order to look at her. The same giddy feeling a teenager gets when playing spin the bottle and truth or dare spread through his body whenever he’s this close to her, it truly never fails.
“I’m glad. I absolutely embarrassed myself with my lack of skill, but I’m glad at least someone enjoyed it.”
“Hey,” she shifted slightly so that she was directly looking at him all while keeping her chin perched on him. “You didn't embarrass yourself. We all have things we’re good at. Like, look at this.” She lazily gestured to the books scattered across his desk, “I couldn't even begin to describe what you're reading. You’re brilliant, Spence.”
“It’s called The Philosophy of Aristotle. It’s a selection of Aristotle’s works and–” he stopped himself, watching the way Y/N was completely mesmerized by what he had to say.
“Keep going. I've done my reports and I’m sure you've finished yours. We have plenty of time.” She kissed his cheek as a way to get him to start speaking again, and he felt on top of the world.
It was childish, really. The constant buzz he felt when speaking to her. The crinkles he can feel by his eyes from smiling so hard. The childlike wonder at how someone could be so perfect for him. No one’s ever had him like her. He felt as though this is what he would've felt if he had a normal childhood, one where he had a high school sweetheart. And despite it feeling so high school, he loves it. He loves her.
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rjchocobi · 2 days
Text
﹙🍃 𓂃 satan's right-hand man — lee haechan ! ﹚
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♡ . . . synopsis ; you've known lee donghyuck your whole life, admired him from afar for half as long and yet, why does it take a cross-major project to get you to properly interact?
♡ . . . pairing ; computer science major! haechan × multimedia major! reader
♡ . . . genre ; non-idol au, college au (? very inaccurate portrayal of the education system haha). a few curses flying here and there.
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“I don't think I can do it. There's way too many people around.”
You follow the tan-skinned target dressed in baggy jeans and a varsity jacket as he walks past your table, out of the cafeteria billowing murmurs of conversation. His brown hair flops down on his eyes, wired earphones making him oblivious to the world.
Or, in this case, you and your friend's schemes.
“Y/n, just breathe,” Gyuri chuckles, typing away on her laptop. “Most people here are too occupied with their own shit to care about yours.”
“Astounding analogy, truly,” you deadpan at the Literature major who shrugs, leaning back on the chair. The crop top you'd worn was sticking to your sweating back, uncomfortably so. “And sure, nobody would be curious as to why I'm walking up to the newly appointed captain of the soccer team. The last time someone asked him out, they went viral!”
“Hey, you're asking him out for an entirely different reason. Unless, you have a thing for bratty jocks with pretty faces?”
You couldn't stop the roll of your eyes. She was right, until you account for his soft brown eyes, tech nerd tendencies that came off as way too appealing than they had any business being and a presence that everyone heard yet missed when he wasn't around.
Oh god, you really were hopeless.
Gyuri pipes up next, looking away from the screen before her, “Also, it takes about five minutes to make it to the front gate. So, unless you have any other place in mind to ask him before the first game tomorrow, you should be running.”
The world screeches to a halt. Your eyes flicker to the wall clock, as you stand up immediately. “Shit, there's no way I'll make it to him before his usual bus leaves in these shoes!”
“Should I be concerned that you know his bus route?” Gyuri raises an inquisitive brow.
You muster your deadliest glare, grabbing for things and shoving them in your bag. “Don't make it sound creepy, weirdo. I used to take the same bus before we moved.”
“Eh, tomato to-mah-to,” Gyuri cocks her head. “Now, chop chop. You have precisely two minutes on the clock.”
Taking a deep breath, you try (and fail, evidently) to settle your stomach which had been dancing the tango on a loop for the whole day. “I'll see you later. And thanks for the coffee!”
Gyuri throws you double thumbs up. Whether in acceptance or encouragement, you don't have the time to figure out.
When you manage to stumble through the crowd going the opposite way, past the gates of your college campus and to the nearest bus stop, it's been nearly ten minutes. With your heart pounding against your throat, you scan the listing on your phone, “Let's see... Cheongpa 2GA, Cheongpa...”
“It got cancelled today. There was a big crash by the Hangang road.”
Your head shoots up at the distantly familiar voice, so fast that you're surprised you dodge a whiplash. He stands leaning against the pole upholding the overhead shade, a small smile on his face.
Inhaling sharply, you nod and speak after having reinstalled basic social skills. “Right. Uh, are there any other buses going the same way?”
“Not if you want to reach home past ten,” he muses. “I'll catch the next ride to the subway and take the train.”
The need to know why he was telling you this registered a little too late.
"Shouldn't you be looking for the Bogwang side buses, though?” he asks.
You nearly trip on the transition curb, going to stand beside him. “I'm visiting family in Cheongpa. Anyway, it's kind of weird that you know where I live, isn't it?”
He's still staring you down as he says, “Not as weird as you and your friend memorizing my schedules or tracking my hourly whereabouts.”
For the second time in the span of five minutes, you look up at him, finding the corners of his warm gaze crinkling with mirth. You feel your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “I—”
One syllable doesn't make it out your mouth before he's humming in approval. About what, you're none the wiser. “Yeah, you guys are not as quiet as you may think.”
Humiliation burns red across the apples of your cheeks and creeps up your neck. If Lee Donghyuck had managed to overhear, how many other within earshot knew all about your business?
You settled for an indignant response. “Hey, it's rude to eavesdrop.”
Donghyuck chuckles, an airy sound but still low; lower than the pitches you know his laughter reached. “Or I just have really great hearing. So, what is it you wanted to ask me so badly?”
You catch up on the teasing lilt. “What if I say it's a love confession?”
Your flippant reply has him lose his cool for half a second yet you still consider it a win. He shoves his phone back in his pocket, “Doubt it. Setting aside the massive stroking my ego will receive, you don't seem like the type to lose your mind over asking someone out.”
“Touché,” You mumble, your next words put on hold due to the people near your surging forward as the next bus arrived.
Donghyuck walks forward, so at ease you think he had taken and discarded your conversation in the matter of seconds. Before your heart could drop to the depths of hell, he looks over in confusion. “You’re not coming?”
You follow him wordlessly, hanging around the back of the bus. Donghyuck stands near you, chuckling when he sees you're unable to hold onto the handlebars above.
“Too high for you?”
“Shut up before I stomp on your feet. I can assure you it hurts like a bitch,” you threaten and he thinks you look about as menacing as a kitten.
“Enlighten me then, Y/n. What made you stalk me on a Tuesday?” he asks instead, moving a little closer as the bus lurches forward.
Ignoring the zoo of butterflies in your gut, you sigh. “Remember the project that's supposed to be thirty percent of the semester's final grade? Well, my assignment goes way off my area of expertise."
He hums in acknowledgement, full lips parting in an 'o' of realization as he catches on. "And what do you expect me to do?"
Ever the overthinker, you translate that to him wanting nothing to do with this. You drop your head, eyes trained on the yellow wedges you'd put on for the day. It had given you nothing but blisters. That's what trying new things, going out of comfort zones get you—a reality check.
You voice is too small for your liking, "I was thinking of making a videogame. Nothing fancy, just the barebones of an interactive interface. I thought if I get a computer major on board, we could both submit the project and present different aspects of the process."
The split second of silence before he speaks is gut-wrenching. “Killing two birds with one stone. It's a smart idea.”
You glance up to see a leisurely grin on his face. Is it weird that the loosest definition of a compliment from him is throwing you into a spiral? Probably.
“So? Will you work on it with me?” you ask, all too eager.
He pretends to think it over, hand on his chin and everything. Then, “Say 'please' first.”
For a second, you're rendered speechless. “What?"
“What?” He blinks owlishly, parroting you. “If a cute girl asks nicely, maybe I'll agree.”
Your jaw slackens. “Lee Donghyuck, you are a menace to society.”
“Because I ask for my fair share? I see how it is.” He pouts mockingly, running a hand through his fluffy hair.
“You get to present the project, too! That's a fifty-fifty bargain unless you have a better idea for partner-work that assures you an easy A,” you cross your arms over your chest. You may be a hopeless case of anxiety and lackluster connections but you're not that desperate. And who does he think he is, anyway?
Donghyuck chuckles, head bobbing. “Not nearly enough. If I'm doing this, I want you to do two things for me.”
You nearly rethink your decision for even asking him in the first place. But acting like his personal errand girl is not worse than showing up to class with a half-assed project. “Nothing that entails me publicly making a fool out of myself more than I already do.”
He holds his hands up in surrender. “I won't ask for anything like that. Who do you take me for?”
You eye him up and down. “Right now? Satan's right-hand man.”
Donghyuck smirks, poking his tongue onto the inside of his cheek. “Alright, then. Satan's right-hand man says you must first ask him politely and second... go out on a date with him.”
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Note
Hello!!! I have a request if that’s okay with you. 💕
Would you maybe write a Spencer x quiet!reader? Where she doesn’t have the courage to talk to him because she’s too shy?
I don’t really have a plot in mind so that’s up to you!! I’m sorry I couldn’t come up with any ideas but hopefully it lets you write whatever you want. Thank you for taking the time to read this. And I read your other stories, you’re so underrated and amazing I love your wording when you write. 🥹🫶🏻🫶🏻
Hi Mary!! Thank you so much for your kind words c:
I did my best c: I hope you like it!
Round Table (Spencer Reid x shy!gn!reader)
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x shy!gn!reader (if not gn please let me know, but I'm fairly certain it is!)
Word Count: 1538
Warnings: mentions of anxiety, but besides that none?
A/N: this was so fun c: i am really enjoying challenging myself with your guys' requests. hope you enjoy!!
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You were an incredibly anxious person, which, honestly, was okay. You tried not to let your anxiety hinder your life too much, but like any other human being, sometimes it got in the way. It was frustrating, sure, knowing that a situation would be so much easier if you weren’t so anxious about it, but you reminded yourself often that you weren’t perfect, and neither was anyone else. 
Some people were afraid of heights, of the ocean, of needles. Some people had trouble going out into crowds or grew overstimulated in public places. 
You? You were painfully shy. There was always an adjustment period to being around new people.
Baristas, the bus driver, pharmacy techs, cashiers at the grocery store - you did just fine. But those were one-time interactions, brief discussions that you could compartmentalize. 
They came with a script to follow, with cue cards already queued up in your head as they occurred. You could put on an emotional mask for five minutes while the nurse at the clinic gave you a flu shot. You could smile and speak in your special voice labeled Getting Coffee, an octave higher than you usually spoke, in order to acquire your much-needed beverage. There was a clear goal in mind with each of these dialogues. Sure, you didn’t present as the most confident person in the world, but you always made it through conversations like these without stumbling over your words or being too terribly awkward.  
You didn’t succeed as much with deeper connections, with ones that took time to cultivate. You were a guarded person to begin with, with only a handful of people you felt truly close to. Vulnerability had always been difficult for you, but you supposed you were in the majority on that front. It took a while to become comfortable around coworkers, extended family, hell, even your therapist. You had to have time to adjust, to settle in. 
A lot of people in your life thought you were just socially awkward or even an agoraphobe, but you didn’t mind being around people. It was the intimacy, the connection, the having to give away little pieces of yourself, that made you anxious. It kept you from participating in conversations most of the time, usually only speaking unless spoken to. 
You liked your job as a linguistics and handwriting analyst in the FBI for that very reason. You didn’t have to say much  to people unless it was related to a case. With a clear goal in mind, a threat to neutralize, you could turn on that mechanical part of your brain that spouted off facts, information, theories. You didn’t have to tell anyone about your weekend, about your hopes and dreams or your favorite foods. 
You were consulting on a case for the Behavioral Analysis Unit - a serial killer who stalked his victims months before their murders, sending handwritten letters and using poetry to taunt them. Your supervisor had asked you to collaborate with the BAU, sending you to the sixth floor on your own. 
For the last two days, you’d been working closely with Dr. Spencer Reid - Spencer, he insisted you call him. Just a couple of years older than you, but still very young for his role in the FBI. He was friendly,  and very smart, and he rambled on about all kinds of things - 
Everything, actually. The Chinese food you’d had for lunch on the first day? He explained the origin of fortune cookies. Did you know their first appearance in the US was in San Francisco in the late 1800s? 
Pointing out a Dickinson line in one of the UnSub’s letters? Did you know only ten of Emily Dickinson’s poems were actually published when she was alive and the rest were posthumous? 
You often just nodded along and smiled, occasionally throwing in an oh, that’s very interesting to appear as an active listener. And you were an active listener. You did genuinely think he was interesting, and you found his info dumps to be incredibly endearing. But your contributions to the conversation were abysmal in comparison.
Beyond discussing patterns in the UnSub’s letters and what it might mean for each victim, you had no other fascinating information to share. You didn’t do well with small talk, and Spencer didn’t ask you any overtly personal questions. 
It wasn’t until close to the end of the second day spent in the conference room of the BAU’s office that Spencer asked you a direct question about yourself. 
There were three evidence boards set up, all full of scanned copies of the letters, each one pinned up meticulously by you and Spencer the day before. The large round table in the room had letters stacked out all around it, each one bagged in protective plastic. 
Spencer was standing in front of the evidence boards with his arms crossed over his chest, studying the photocopies with his head inclined to the side. 
He broke the silence you had been slowly settling into the past two days. “Your supervisor said you had a specialization in poetry?” 
You nodded, stepping over to the table and carefully lifting one of the letters up. You liked how he spoke as if you two were in the middle of a conversation, when in fact, it had been totally silent for the past half an hour, save for the soft puttering of the air conditioning vent.
“Studied a lot in undergrad,” you squeaked out, clearing your throat as you held the letter up the fluorescent light above you to examine the stationary. 
“What university did you attend?” Spencer asked, and you turned your head to find him inclining his head to the side. He actually wanted to know? 
“I went to Bennington College to study poetry,” you said softly, suddenly finding it difficult to focus on the letter in your hand. “But I went to graduate school at Georgetown. Master’s in Linguistics.” 
“Really? That’s fascinating,” Spencer commented, which caught you by surprise, especially because he didn’t sound the least bit sarcastic. “That combination of degrees is exceedingly rare. Generally people who major in poetry often either go on to complete as far up as a doctorate in the subject or  they stop at a Bachelor’s degree. The latter statistically don’t end up working in a field related to poetry, either, so their degree is basically useless.” 
You weren’t sure if you were supposed to be offended by that, so instead you just nodded your head politely. “Okay,” you murmured, biting your lip. 
“Can I ask you another question?” Spencer asked, and set the letter in your hand down on the table. You smoothed your hands over the fabric of your shirt and nodded. “Do I… do I make you uncomfortable?” 
You shook your head. “No,” you said assuredly, and then, a little more hesitantly, “…why would you ask me that?” 
Spencer turned to face you. “You’re just very quiet unless we’re discussing the case. Which is fine, of course, but I just… I don’t know. I thought maybe you were annoyed by me or I said something to offend you.” 
You felt guilt spread over you and your cheeks turned pink. The last thing you’d wanted was to make anyone feel bad who didn’t deserve it. And the very kind, helpful, and adorable Dr. Spencer Reid was the furthest from deserving to feel bad. 
 “I just don’t talk a lot,” you tried to explain. Your hand rubbed the spot where the top of your chest met the skin of your neck, an anxious habit you’d had for years. “I mean, I do with people I know, and that’s not to say I dominate the conversation by any means, but I just…” you realized you were rambling. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” you added, your voice just above a whisper. 
“Thank you,” Spencer’s lips flickered into a straight-lined smile, one you had seen several times over the past few days, often when unintentional eye contact was made across the table. “For clarifying, I mean, that I didn’t offend you.” He cleared his throat, and leaned against the round table, standing just a few feet from you. Still a very professional and comfortable distance, but closer than he had been before. “So, does that mean that if we got to know each other, you’d talk more?” The corners of his lips spread out and his smile grew. 
You tore your eyes away from his to look at the letter in your hand, the protective plastic around it crinkling between your fingers. You weren’t actually looking at the letter, though. You’d just needed somewhere - anywhere - else to look. “That’s generally how it goes,” you murmured, biting your lip. 
“So, if I were to, for example, ask you to meet me for dinner sometime, could the getting to know each other happen there?” 
Your eyes fluttered over to Spencer’s and you saw him smiling. You could tell by how he looked at you, with his head inclined just slightly to the side, that he was being fully serious. You nodded, unable to control the small smile on your face. 
Spencer grinned, and you could tell he couldn’t resist when he spoke again. “So, is that a yes?” 
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r0sebutch · 3 days
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your name is kipperlily copperkettle.
there is a knife in your hand and rage in your heart like a twenty four pointed star. like a name you dont know. like fire.
(we keep the fire lit, a girl you once knew would say. you keep the fire lit for her. you cant remember if you killed her or not.)
your name is kipperlily copperkettle. there is a girl who comes to school a mess and takes her clothes off in the hallway and doesnt seem to care about anything. there is a girl who has let not one but two gods die. there is a girl who brought a god back from beyond death with the force of her conviction.
(you once knew a girl that you admired for her conviction. a girl that was too stubborn for her own good. why can’t you remember whether or not you killed her?)
your name is kipperlily copperkettle. there is a boy in your party that you requested specifically. he worships a god that a girl you think you hate once worshipped. he seems like he only worships this god out of habit. conviction seems uglier on him than it does on her.
(you aren’t sure who you mean when you think ‘her’. there are two girls who it might mean. one of them is dead. there is a knife in your hand.)
your name is kipperlily copperkettle. you want the success that seems to come easy to her and nothing you do will ever get you there. the thing you’re striving for doesn’t exist. you know that and pretend you don’t because when you tell yourself something, it becomes true.
(you can’t remember if you killed her, so you tell yourself you didn’t. the lie tastes like honey on your tongue.)
your name is kipperlily copperkettle and the girl you think you hate is stronger than you could have ever known. she and her friends tear through the world like wet paper and you have to watch it happen. a boy who breathes ugly conviction watches with you, though he doesn’t know it.
(you have a knife in your hand and you smile at her as you slit his throat. his blood is hers on your hands. can you make her conviction ugly when you make what’s his hers?)
(you’re still not sure who you mean when you say her.)
your name is kipperlily copperkettle.
there is a knife in your hand.
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ssokkasmoon · 2 days
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GOING TO BED WHILE MAD AT EACH OTHER (MODERN AU)
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(Decided to add Zuko and Bolin too cuz they are my favs )
(Making out headcanons will be out soon )
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SOKKA
The drive home from your double date with Katara and Aang was tense and silent after Sokka and you had disagreement. Now in your apartment, He walked to the bedroom, stripping off his shirt with more aggression than necessary.
You followed with narrowed eyes, grabbing pajamas. "Well don't look so angry, it's not the end of the world," you snapped.
Sokka threw his shirt into the hamper with a little more force than intended. "Maybe I wouldn't be angry if you listened to me once in a while instead of doing whatever you want".
You scoffed, yanking your top off to change. "If you'd take that giant stick out of your ass, you'd see I was right!"
He opened his mouth to argue when his eyes fell on your exposed chest, momentarily distracted. you caught his stare and put your hands on your hips. "Enjoying the view?"
He swallowed, eyes flicking back up guiltily. "...Maybe."
"Thought so." You smirked, slipping your sleep shirt on. "You can't stay mad at this."
Sokka chuckled softly, tension breaking as he pulled you into his arms. "No, I can't." He kissed your forehead gently. "I'm sorry. You drive me crazy but I love you."
You snuggled close with a content sigh. "I love you too, dork. Now come to bed."
ZUKO
Zuko and you still hadn't said a word to each other since your argument that afternoon. Now you lay stiffly in the dark bedroom, turned away from each other.
Zuko sighed softly. He hated going to bed angry, even if it was just a petty disagreement. Shifting towards your back, he slowly wrapped an arm around your waist.
"I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier," he murmured into your hair. "You were just trying to help."
You didn't reply at first. Then, you back seemed to soften in embrace. "You never listen to my advice," you grumbled.
Zuko smiled, "I know. I'm a stubborn mule." He nuzzled a kiss to your shoulder. "Forgive me?". You twisted in his arms to face him. "You're lucky you're cute," you muttered, bopping his nose gently.
His grin widened. "So we're good?" At your small nod, he peppered your face with kisses until you cracked a smile too.
BOLIN
It had been a long day and Bolin was exhausted as he shuffled into your bedroom, ready to pass out. But when he walked in, you were already lying down facing away from him.
He sighed, knowing you were still upset about their earlier argument. "Babe, come on. Don't be like that," he pleaded softly pouting. When you didn't respond, he sat on the edge of the bed and gently rubbed your shoulder.
"I said I was sorry. You know I'm an idiot sometimes." Still nothing. He leaned down and nuzzled your neck. "Please don't ignore me, I'll die without my goodnight kiss!"
You stubbornly kept your back turned, though he noticed the corner of your mouth twitching up in smile. He grinned, an idea coming to him.
Springing to his feet, Bolin turned off the lights and climbed onto the bed on all fours, prowling towards you ,"Gotcha!" he pounced, tackling you from behind and attacking your face with sloppy kisses.
You squealed and squirmed, trying to fight him off through your giggles. "Ew, Bolin stop! Get off me!"
He let up, catching your hands and pulling you into his chest as you caught your breath. "I love you," he murmured sweetly, pecking your lips.
"I love you too, you dork. Now let me sleep!"
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zephyrchama · 22 hours
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Belphegor followed you down the hall as you dragged your suitcase. It wasn’t very big, but it was still heavy and annoying to lug over the thick decorative carpets. Every time one came to an end, the luggage thudded loudly back onto the hardwood floor.
“You sure you have everything? You packed the pillow I gave you?” Belphegor sluggishly matched his pace to yours. Having long legs must be nice.
“Of course, I triple checked.” ”Good. That’s my fifth favorite pillow, so you have to come back and return it, ok?”
You nodded as the suitcase went over another bump. This was your third time going over this exact conversation.
It wasn’t just the youngest, all of the brothers were antsy about your little trip. It was written all over their faces as you arrived at the foyer where they were waiting. Satan and Asmodeus solemnly stood up from the steps they were sitting on. Mammon and Leviathan had a hard time looking at you, their eyes darted all over the walls and ceiling. Beelzebub offered to move your suitcase by the door.
Just one weekend away. That was it. Solomon volunteered to take you back to the human world for a bit. You couldn't let a rare trip home pass by, as who knew when the next opportunity would arise. You could eat some normal food for once and stock up on your favorite human things. Though, your housemates reacted like you were leaving for a year.
“Did you pack everything?” Lucifer asked.
“Of course, I triple checked.” Deja-vu.
“Even the lotion I gave you?” Asmodeus looked so worried. He loosely took hold of your forearm with a tear in his eye. “Don’t forget, the sun is awful this time of year. I’ll never forgive you if you come back looking like a lobster.”
“Asmo, I won’t.” You grinned at his silly concern and leaned in for a hug. Asmodeus did not disappoint.
Everyone else took a step forward, hoping for a hug of their own, as Asmodeus breathed into your ear, “I’ll be waiting.”
“You have my number. If anything goes wrong, call me.” Lucifer sounded so reliable as he placed a hand on your shoulder.
There were half a dozen chimes of “mine, too!” and “same here!”
You’d been away for longer trips. How in the world did these guys survive for so many millennia before you met them? You turned to look at Lucifer, wanting to counter that Devildom phones didn’t even work in the human world, but he probably knew that already.
"Don't talk to strangers," he reminded, "and don't go out alone at night. Some humans are worse than demons." He wrapped his arms around you and wished “safe travels.”
Mammon stepped up next. He forced himself to stare at you, haughtily playing off the sadness he was really feeling. His bottom lip jutted out a little more than usual. “Well! You’ll bring me back a good souvenir, right?”
“Oh? I don’t know, I might not have time…” It was playful banter, yet your words shocked him. Mammon’s eyes widened. He began stammering and gripped your fingers. You quickly performed damage control, “Joking! I’m joking, Mammon. Of course I’ll get you a souvenir.”
The younger siblings piped up, “us too!”
“I’m getting everyone souvenirs, don’t worry!” You already had a few gift ideas in mind.
Mammon put his forehead on your shoulder and a hand on your back that he rubbed. “But mine’ll be the best. I trust ya.”
“Don’t let Solomon give you any food he cooks,” Beelzebub warned. “Actually, don’t let Solomon give you any food. Ever.” He tried to give you a lumpy-looking cloth bag, no doubt filled with homemade treats to take with you. It smelled scrumptious. Only issue was, the bag was half your size.
“Beel, there’s food in the human world. I can’t take all this, why don’t you enjoy it with your brothers?”
Beelzebub frowned, setting aside his present. It tilted under the weight of its own contents. You felt a slight pang of guilt, but how could you carry it all? That much food could last you a week.
He picked you up for his hug, your toes dangling several inches off the floor until he gently set you back down. Belphegor caught you as you regained your footing.
His hug was simple and cozy. He tucked a strand of your hair behind an ear. “Don’t forget about my pillow.”
You suspected that if you ever actually tried to run away, these seven would go to the ends of the three realms to find you.
Satan nudged your luggage, observing the way it slided forward an inch. It was heavy to you, but clearly not them. “That’s really all you’re bringing? Do you have enough clothes?”
“Yes! You helped me pack!” The repetition was really starting to grate on you. Things were never this crazy when one of them had to leave the house for a few days. They wouldn't even care unless somebody went mysteriously unseen for over a week. “You all know I’ve got everything under control. I’ll be back in two days.”
“Hey, how come Satan got to help you pack?” Mammon complained.
“We did too,” Belphegor said, his twin in agreement.
“It was a group effort,” according to Asmodeus.
Mammon crossed his arms. "No way! You let these guys see your underwear?"
Satan ignored them. “Do you want another book for the road?”
“I’ll be fine.” You gave Satan his hug. After letting go, his fingers hovered by your side. “We’re teleporting there anyway. I don’t think there’ll be time to read anything.”
One suspiciously quiet demon in the back stared at the floor. “Two days,” he sighed. Leviathan did a poor job of hiding how upset he was.
“Levi, aren’t you going to say goodbye?”
“Yes!?” His head jerked up, met your gaze, and looked down again.
“I can’t leave until I get a full set of hugs from everyone,” you admitted. “I’m missing a very valuable part of the collection.”
Asmodeus and Mammon readily offered themselves for a second go. Leviathan’s cheeks flushed with envy and he grabbed you a little roughly, squishing his face into your shoulder. “You’ll take lots of pictures? A-and you won’t forget about us?”
You scoffed, “how could I forget about you? We’re bound together by a pact, aren’t we?” As for photos… you didn't know what would be interesting, but it couldn't hurt to take a bunch anyway.
Lucifer cleared his throat, signaling to Leviathan it was time to let go. "I miss you already," he muttered.
The seven of them followed you out of the house and down to the House of Lamentation’s front gate. It was like having a school of fish circling you. You could call it a miracle they weren't following you onto the main road, but if they went that far you knew they'd unreasonably demand Solomon take them along too.
“It’s just one weekend!” you reiterated. “Take care, you guys.”
They peered at you through the fence bars, waving when you glanced over. It was a sad sight, and possible attempt to make you come rushing back. If it was this bad already, you didn't want to think about how they'd act if you were going away for one week.
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coco-loco-nut · 3 days
Text
Book Club - Part 6
pairing: Lance Stroll x Reader, Grid x Reader
summary: you and lance have a talent for traumating the grid *insert emotional damage meme here*
requests open masterlist
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It was safe to say that that you and Lance were still very much in your honeymoon phase when you got to testing. Both of you very tan from your weeks spent on the beach.
“Y/n! You surprised the world when you announced your marriage and name change, Anything you want to say about it?” One of your favorite interviewers asks you as you walk hand in hand to the paddock with Lance.
“Sure, yeah. Lance and I have been together for a long time, so getting married was just the natural next step. It was a small wedding with close friends and family. Regarding my new name, alittle over a year ago, Kimi offered to mentor me and we forged a very close bond. He is basically my father and his kids are my siblings, so with the blessing of the family I wanted to honor the relationship the best way I knew how. Racing under the Räikkönen name is such a huge honor and I can’t thank my dad and family enough for the honor,” you beam, more than happy to talk about your family.
“How did Kimi react when you told him you were taking his name both legally and when racing,” she asks, your joy infectious.
“He was so happy, I told him at the wedding, yeah. We are such a tight family, I can’t thank them enough for bringing me into their family and allowing me to take their last name. And Lance has been wonderful about it, he actually suggested hyphenating the names,” you tell her. Usually you are pretty tight lipped, but you with happily talk with her.
“Alright, onto what actually matters. How are you feeling going into testing with Red Bull?” she asks and you take a step back into your normal interview style.
“Good. I certainly miss Checo here, but the car feels good. We will see how testing goes and work from there,” Lance gives you a look that says you will be late and the journalist notices.
“Thanks for chatting, and congratulations,” she says and you nod in thanks before walking away.
“You look very hot today, Mrs Räikkönen-Stroll,” Lance says kissing the side of your head.
“Maybe so, but nothing compares to you post race,” your cheeks flame a little. Lance pulls you into a small alley between motorhomes. You are pressed against the wall as Lance kisses you, hands tangled in each other’s hair.
“OH MY GOD!” you hear Daniel shriek.
“MY EYES!” Valtteri screams. Lance quickly pulls away from you as the four of you look at each like deer in the headlights. Daniel and Valtteri quickly walk away, leaving you and Lance giggling like school kids.
The club atmosphere was off when you walked in, taking a seat beside Logan. Valtteri can’t look you in the eyes while Daniel isn’t sure whether his is proud or scarred for life.
“Fernando, I was not aware of your taste in books,” Nico says, a little flushed thinking about what they had to read.
“Yeah, a smut book? We do have innocent eyes here,” Kevin looks at you and Logan.
“Innocent?” Logan asks, a breathy laugh behind it.
“The beach scene?” Lewis suggests you all start on.
“The writing was phenomenal, the author really captured the emotions and sensations. It read so raw, so lifelike. It was one of the few times that art imitated life. She captured every intimate thought and feeling that a woman gets when she is having sex. I remember during the honeymoon when Lance and I did something similar on the private beach and wow, the author really nailed it,” you say, not quite realizing what you had just revealed to the group.
“Damn, Y/n, I didn’t realize you and Lance were freaks like that. Respect,” Daniel says, never being one to shy away from sex. Your face twists in mortification at what you unintentionally revealed. The guys look at eachother mortified as well.
You were an adult, they knew that, but in their subconscious mind you haven’t done anything more than kiss a boy. That’s how you end up following them as they storm across the paddock.
“Logan! Help me stop them,” you look at him with panic in your eyes as the group nears the Aston Martin garage.
“Hell no, this is so funny,” he says and you huff. You see the guys cornering Lance.
“YOU RUINED OUR DAUGHTER?!” Fernando yells at his teammate. You just want to sink into a corner and die, similar to how Lance appears.
“Our precious, innocent, child. What’s next? Logan has slept with a girl?” Valtteri says.
“HEY!” Logan yells in offense. The guys’ faces drain of more color.
“You too? This isn’t ok,” Kevin says and you spot Max and Lando trying not to laugh, the two of them having seen the commotion and wanted to check it out.
“I think you guys are forgetting that the three of us are consenting adults, we aren’t kids anymore,” you say softly, Logan and Lance standing by you, the latter still scared.
“Tell that to Kimi,” Nico chuckles and you groan at the mention of your dad.
“Alright, stop harassing my teammate, we have meetings,” Max breaks everyone up, leading you away.
“Thanks, Maxie,” you let out a breath of relief.
“Do I want to know?” he laughs.
“No, I don’t think so,” you return his laugh. You just hope that your book club meeting will be smoother tomorrow morning.
The next morning, you walk into the room happy and perky as usual.
“You okay, Fernando?” Logan asks when he notices Fernando on his third cup of coffee and the tiredness in his eyes.
“The hotel has thin walls. My hotel room shares a wall with Lance’s,” Fernando says, giving you a look that makes you blush in embarrassment, wishing the earth would open up and eat you whole.
“It is natural. They are young and in love, maybe we will have a baby Stroll soon,” Lewis says and your eyes light up.
“We will!” you say, quickly pulling out your phone. The older drivers hearts sink, all slightly panicking. “Oh my god, I’m not pregnant guys, we are just getting a puppy,” you laugh at their faces.
“I would like to make a motion to kick Y/n out of the book club due to the amount of emotional distress she has given the members this weekend,” Valtteri says, and your jaw drop.
“Alright alright, but you don’t understand the almost of trauma I went through having rooms that neighbored all of you during my first year here,” you point your finger at all of them.
“Motion denied,” Daniel sighs, knowing he was probably one of the main culprits.
“So, this dog?” Nico says, changing the subject.
instagram
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y/username EVERYONE MEET MY BABY!
since I’m too young to have a baby (according to the club) here is my baby holding our baby, Milo Stroll ❤️🐾🐶
logansargeant look at how big his paws are! he’s gonna be a big boy 😍
y/username his favorite uncle 🥰
danielricciardo @y/username I take offense to that
user1 y/n really had me in the first half
nicohulkenberg she had us too the first time she brought up Milo in conversation
lancestroll what a hot mama 😮‍💨
y/username nothing compared to the absolute DILF holding my sweet puppy in the picture
georgerussel MY EYES! MY INNOCENT EYES
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Text
Genshin SAGAU where they hide in the Fortress Of Meropide in order to live a normal life. (2)
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now that you got caught, he promised to keep your secret but... also shout out to @/udretlnea for a scene idea not proof read
You stood there, frozen in shock that your identity was easily found out by him. "I-I..." you stuttered, not knowing what to say, "You must have a reason to stay in the shadows..." he added, inching even closer. Wriothesley's piercing stare made you uncomfortable as you just looked down.
"I-I just want to live a normal life..." you replied. It took a moment for him to respond, "You don't belong here, your Grace. To stay in this facility for years to come, I don't think that's living a normal life." He replied. Your eyes widened as you looked up at him, "Please, no need to call me by that title." you told him.
"...You're finally looking at me." he mumbled as he stared at you. He couldn't believe it... It's you... The Creator. "You can't be here, you deserve to be out there. Exploring the world, your Grace..." he added. "No... I just... I just want to live a normal life so please just- just forget this ever happened-" you were cut off by him. "I'll take care of everything if that's what you wish, Your Grace... With your criminal record, I don't think people would bat an eye around you." he reassured you. You were quiet for a moment, thinking of a response...
"Your Grace?" the two of you turned around to see one of the Guards, "Um..." the guard looked at Wriothesley. You cleared your throat and looked away. Wriothesley let out a small laugh while the guard just looked confused but brushed it off. Before he walked up to the guard, he leaned in close to you, "Come to my office at 9." he whispered in your ear and soon left.
Creator! Reader whose sentence was cut short because of... well... his doing. Before you left the Fortress of Meropide, he gave you a bag of mora and a small hut on the mountains where Fontainians don't really go to. He reassured you that you would be given an allowance every week to which you were thankful of.
You just wished he was the last person to know of your identity...
Creator! Reader who does live a peaceful life outside the city of Fontaine, you do go there from time to time for groceries but you do it quick in order to not attract anyones attention. Basically living as a shadow.
You decided to go to the city today because of a merchant from Liyue is selling rice and other goods that you missed in your original life. You bought the things you needed as quick as possible, while walking to the exit, you notice three familiar people...
Oh shit! Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet!
You froze for a moment, you turned around but Freminet had already noticed you. You were about to run but- oh shoot a child infront of you!
You abruptly stop, resulting in you dropping to the ground. You could hear loud footsteps running up to you. "Umm... are you alright...?" you heard a quiet voice call out for you who turned out to be Freminet who held out his hand. Lyney and Lynette were picking up your groceries. You stared at him for a moment before grabbing his hand. He helped you stand up as you hissed in pain.
You looked at your hands to see the palm of your hands were grazed, and you notice the bits of... Golden blood showing... You could feel your heart drop to the floor. "Here are your groceries! You should be careful next time." Lyney spoke out as he handed you your groceries to which you were quick to snatch from him.
He didn't even get to say a word before you bowed and came off running. Lyney watched as you run away, "Huh... must be in a hurry." he mumbled. "They kind of look suspicious..." Lynette whispered to which Lyney just brushed off. While Lyney and Lynette were talking, Freminet stood there, frozen as he stared at his hand that held yours.
Bits of... Golden liquid were on his palm... Did this mean-
"Freminet! Come on, Lynette is bugging us to go already, there's a bake sale going on." Lyney called out his name, to which he flinched. "Oh... Um... I'll be right there!" he replied.
He glanced at the palm of his hand again, 'If they are the Creator... then... why are they hiding...?' he thought.
ill write a part 3 soon, ill wrap this whole story in part 3 :))
Tags: @uchihaeirin (did I do it right like the tagging?? ajdhlkej im new sorry lmaoo)
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worldofkuro · 2 days
Text
Painted Smile
Painted Smile III
<-Previous Chapter | Next Chapter ->
Pairing: Alastor x Female!Reader
Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.
Notes: Well, well, this chapter is pure fluff. I really liked how it ended up. Please, enjoy it.
“ Can I come in yet?” you asked, outside Alastor’s bedroom, waiting for him to open the door.
You’ve been waiting for five minutes and you weren’t known for being a patient person. You were having a sleepover at Marie’s house after weeks of begging, from you at least. When your mothers said yes, you couldn’t be more ecstatic and even Alastor seemed happier than usual. He did ask you to come with a pretty dress because he had a new game he wanted to play with you. It was unusual but exciting ! 
So here you were, waiting in your pretty dress, your hair perfectly done, and a frown on your face. How long were you going to wait for him? You were ready to knock once again on his door but it jerked open before you could touch it. And there was your friend, his hair slicked back, his glasses on and his usual smile on his lips. You kissed him on both cheeks before he tugged you inside his bedroom.
“ Welcome to my humble Radiobooth !” He said with glee as he showed you his desk with paper spread on it, and.. was it a microphone ? You tilted your head as he forced you to sit down on one side of the bureau. He took the microphone, and spoke.
“ Welcome New Orleans to Alastor’s podcast ! Thank you for tuning in, today I’m thrilled to announce that I will not be alone, I am blessed with the best singer in all Lousianna !” he claimed and shoved the microphone to your face. You looked at his beaming smile and understood what he wanted from you. You smiled as you spoke into the microphone.
“ Thank you Alastor, I’m very pleased and proud to be here, with the best radio host in the world!” you declared, trying to sound ladylike. You grinned at him as you saw his smile sketch at your words.  He gave you some paper with doodles and notes that you began to read the fattest you could as he kept talking.
“ Would you like to talk about something, Miss ?” asked Alastor as he watched you read the notes he gave you. You nodded as you spoke into the microphone, Alastor holding it for you.
“ Well, yes. Last week, at school, a girl mocked my voice, saying I sounded like a dying pig!” You ignored Alastor’s sniggeer as you kept playing your role, reading the topic you were suppose to talk about. 
“ How dreadful ! How could she say something like this?”
“ Right ?” , you decided to go off script, putting the notes down “ but you should have heard her screams when I pushed her into a puddle of mud. Now, who is the pig?” you hid your smile behind your hand like a proper lady as Alastor’s laughter roared in his bedroom, his head tilted back. You giggled as he calmed himself down, holding the microphone to his lips.
“ Oh dear, you sure know how to put up a fight!” He looked down at his notes still giggling.” I did have something similar happening to me: a boy , talking badly about my mother.”
“ What?! How dare he ? I hope you put him in his place !” you shouted, feeling anger circling inside your body. Wait, was it for real or was it part of the show?
“ Indeedy I did, dear. I punched the poor fool, but it seemed like I hit too hard and he went crying somewhere and I was unfairly punished. This is why, my dear, our sleepover was delayed to this day!” he smiled as your mouth was wide open. You applauded him as he beamed with pride.
“ You did well, Mister Alastor!”
You kept doing your broadcast with Alastor, going off script when you wanted to talk about something that happened and he wasn’t there with you. Sometimes you would just shut your mouth and listen to him telling stories, real or not. You could listen to him all afternoon but he always insisted that you participate in the debate or the stories he created. He sometimes teased you as you didn’t know what to say or you couldn’t understand what he meant but you were really having a great time.
“ Oh, so she fell in love? What did you say then?”
“ That she better get up. Now dear listener, we are ready to hear your question !” he said before turning his head toward his door as Marie came inside with food and drinks. “ Oh well, here is the best cook in all of New Orleans, please come Moth- Madame! A round of applause for our new guest!” he said as he stood up, gesturing to his mother to come closer.
Marie laughed as she sat next to you, putting the tray on the desk, minding the notes all over it. You applauded with a big smile as Marie bowed her head. 
“ It’s a pleasure to be here!”
~~~
It truly seemed like Marie was having the time of her life as she was holding her belly, laughing loudly.
“ No Mister Alastor! Sweets are the best food you could ever eat if you weren’t so picky with what  you ate!” you shouted, slamming your fist on the table.
“ Are you saying that my mother’s food is not the best, you brat?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowed but still with his cunning smiling face.
“ I’ve never said that! Don’t put words in my mouth !”
“ That’s what I get for inviting a singer.”
“ Hey !”
Marie applauded before wiping her tears from her eyes. She kissed you both on the forehead before saying she had things to do but she hoped she would be invited once more for another broadcast.
You watched as she left the bedroom before turning your attention to Alastor who was writing notes on papers. You tilted your head before clapping your hands together as you remembered what you wanted to say to Alastor before he made you wait in front of his door.
“ I found a name for our cat!”
“ Our cat?”
“ The one who always hisses at you, yes. Let’s call him… Hissker!”
“ … Well, ladies and gentlemen, we will be back, for now, please enjoy this music I choose for you!” He turned on his radio so you could be lulled by the music. He laid his microphone on the table and sighed as he raised an eyebrow to you. “ Hissker ? I guess it’s because he is always hissing toward me but.. It doesn’t really sound right.”
“ Well.. Hiss.. Hiss…” you tried to find a good name that would satisfy Alastor. “ What about Husker ?” you asked and smiled when you saw Alastor nod. “ It was a very funny game, I hope we will play it again!”
Alastar grinned as he shook his head. “ It is not over yet, we haven't gone through all the notes yet. And you need to sing at the end of the broadcast, aren’t you the best singer in Louisiana ?” he taunted you with a smirk. “ Plus, we have the listener’s question to answer!” He stood up and went to take letters and put them in front of you. You took one and opened it.
“ What is your favorite color ?” you read before tilting your head, looking at Alastor. “ You want to know my favorite color?” He shook his head, claiming that it was the audience’s question, not his ! You smiled, feeling warm inside, it was not everyday that Alastor was curious about you like this, but you didn’t dare to tease him about it. 
“ Welcome back dear listeners ! Our singer here is ready to answer all of your questions !” he took the letters and began to read its content to you. You answer all the questions with sincerity and joy. “ If you could have a superpower, what would it be?”
“ Flying !” you giggled.
“ And now, our last question before our guest’s performance. What do you think about our dear radio host Alastor ?” he stared at you, the letter hiding the bottom of his face you could only see his eyes. You took the microphone from his hand, he surprisingly let you, and with a big smile you shouted.
“ He is the best !”
Your smile widened as Alastar laughed at your answer, clapping into his hands. You felt warm seeing him so happy. You gave him back his microphone but he shook his head and tugged you toward the living room, where a beautiful piano was waiting for you. You looked at Alastor, you didn’t know how to play the piano and he knew that so why…
“ Dear listeners, it’s almost time to say au revoir but before that let’s listen to our beautiful singer here.” he sat on the bench before the piano and began to play a melody. You blushed as you held on the microphone, feeling shy. You looked at Alastor who was watching you, with a big grin before closing his eyes. You took a big breath as you recognized the melody that he played. It was one of your favorite songs… 
You began to sing shyly, waiting for Alastor to laugh at you but he was keeping his eyes closed, moving with the rhythm of the piano’s keys. You closed your eyes as you held the microphone near your mouth, beginning to feel freer and freer. You smiled as you began to dance in the living room, your dress twirling around you. You jumped, moving your head with the rhythm singing like nobody was watching. You were having so much fun, you felt exthrilled, you didn’t care if you were being too loud, if you didn't hit all the right notes.  You opened your eyes and fell into Alastor’s gaze. 
He was staring at you with a big smile, still playing the piano perfectly with a little bit of sweat near his forehead. His hair was no longer neatly slicked back, some curly locks of hair were falling in front of his face. You thought you would feel embarrassed that he was watching you being a dumb happy girl but you just smiled at him, dancing and singing. After a while, even Marie came and you danced with her, as you sang and Alastor kept playing.
It was perfect.
You finished your song, out of breath. Marie applauded you with a big grin as Alastor put his arms around your shoulder and crushed you against his chest. He took back his microphone, thanking his audience as you were looking at him. You remember him being a tad smaller than you, but now… Did he get taller? He forced you to bow before saying goodbye. 
“ It was an amazing performance ! Both of you, you can be proud of you. As a thank you, I have prepared Alastor’s favorite food: jambalaya ! “ She clapped her hands together. You tilted your head, you’ve never eaten this food but from Alastor’s face, you couldn’t wait to taste it.
~~~ 
“ You can sleep with me sweetie, my husband will not come home tonight.” said Marie as you shook your head, holding your plushie against your chest in your nightgown.
“ We are still playing with Alastor! When we are finished, I will join you.” you said with a shy smile. Alastor was behind you, waiting for his mother's permission to stay a little longer awake than usual.  She sighed but at your pleading eyes she accepted your request. You squealed with happiness before running into Alastor's bedroom and jumping on his bed. He came after you, looking at your plushie with a puzzled expression.
“ What is it ?”
“ Well, first of all, it’s a He and he is a deer.” you smiled as you explained that when you were five, you fell down a lake and because you have never learned how to swim, you were drowning but a deer came toward you and bent down his head so you could grab his antlers ! “ My parents said that it was a tree branch that fell down the lake but I’m sure it was a deer !” you pouted, sad that you parents never trust your story. Even if you couldn’t really remember well this story, you knew what you had seen. 
“ So, a deer saved your life from drowning…”
“ Yes, so my parents bought me this deer plushie so now, when I'm scared I can just squeeze him and feel safe!” you demonstrated your words by squeezing your plushie against you. “ Do you want to try it?” 
Alastor stared at you and then the plushie.
“ How can he protect you?”
You rolled your eyes at him before pushing your plushie in his arms. You forced him to hug it, once you were satisfied, you nodded and looked at Alastor who was clearly confused. “ Now, squeeze him !” You looked at him as he squeezed it, closing his eyes. 
You stared at Alastor. You remembered the bruises on his belly that you saw last month. You knew that fathers could be brutal with their son, to man them up as your friends used to say. Maybe Alastor was the same? You loved your plushie, you really did… But maybe, Alastor needed it more than you? You looked at the boy's expression, his eyes closed, his smile hiding in the plushie’s fur, he seemed so relaxed. You nodded, accepting your own decision, until Alastor was safe, you were going to give him your plushie.
“ Mister Deer could be our very first guest in our radio show?” you smiled at him, Alastor opening his eyes slowly, staring back at you. You gulped, maybe it was his show, you were just a guest. You opened your mouth to apologize but Alastor beat you to it.
“ I’d like that.” he whispered with a soft smile. “ Our first guest.”
Without being aware, you both laid down on the bed, Alastor still hugging your plushie. You kept talking even as the sun wasn’t in the sky anymore. You yawned for the third time in the last thirty seconds as you explained how to take care of Mister Deer.
“ Now that I have Mister Deer, who will protect you?” he asked, no trace of fatigue on his face. You smiled tiredly at him, putting your head on his pillow. It smelled like him. You didn’t know why you liked that fact.
“ Well, because you hold Mister Deer, it’s your job to protect me now.” 
“ … So, do I need to hug you?”
You stared at him, his eyes shining with the moon light. A hug from Alastor ? You looked away, blushing but you didn’t know why.
“ M-maybe but…Do you want to …?”
You felt him move and you flinched as he covered your eyes with his hand. You waited for him to answer but you were so tired and now that you were englushed into the darkness with his hand on your eyes you couldn’t help but fall asleep before your could hear his answer. 
~~~ 
Marie walked up the stairs, it was 11pm and it was time for the kids to go to bed. She opened the door to Alastor’s bedroom and couldn’t help but smile at the sweet scene in front of her. Alastor was hugging you with a deer plushie being squished between the two of you. She walked toward the bed and covered the both of you. Well, she couldn’t wait to tell that to your mother! She left the bedroom, closed the door quietly and went to bed.
Tag List: @lukneetoonz @martinys-world @littlepoetnova @sirens-and-moonflowers @eris-norwega
Ps: By the way, my deers, do you have an idea for the plushie's name ? I'm open to ideas.
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