Tumgik
#but yes i hope you have a nice day too!!! thank you for requesting!!
thatacotargirl · 2 days
Note
Hiii, I saw your posts about taking requests! (loving Shadows and Surprises btw 👏)
How about a nice fluffy one-shot (take your pick of the bat-boys 😊) where reader wakes up on her cycle with bloody sheets and bad cramps, and she starts apologising about the sheets but she's in a lot of pain, but he immediately takes care of her and pampers her (changes sheets, runs her a bath, gives tea and chocolate, lots of cuddles and kisses, etc)
Ahhh I love this, it's so cute! Thank you so much for the request - I hope enjoy!
Inbox is open for requests so please do send any through!
Warnings: blood, vomit, general pain (?)
A Cassian x Reader Imagine
It had been a few months since Rhysand had introduced you to his Inner Circle. What started off as a small part-time job working on his accounts and book-keeping turned into a full-time lifestyle. After the first 2 weeks of proving yourself invaluable to him and his Court, Rhys invited you to move into the House of Wind and work alongside him full-time. Your tiny studio apartment with mould, rats, and goodness knows what else inside the walls was not the most luxurious of lifestyles, and you had already grown so attached to the rest of the Inner Circle that you jumped at the opportunity. It also helped that you had developed a teeny tiny crush on the delicious male that was Cassian, so living in the same home as him made life just that little bit sweeter.
Life had, truthfully, never been better.
Yet today, you felt sluggish. Tired. Frustrated. And what made it worse was that you had no reason to feel that way. You had slept well, eaten well, trained that morning - you should be at the peak of your health. But today was finding every possible way to challenge you. After confusing an 8 for a 3 for the third time that afternoon, you threw your pen across the study in complete exasperation. What was going on!
At that moment, the study door cracked on a touch, and the familiar scent of Cassian wafted in.
"Are you ok in here y/n? I heard a bang?". A bang was an understatement considering you had chucked a gigantic book on the floor in your frustration that near shook the House.
"Yes I am fine" you replied through gritted teeth, refusing to turn and look at him. You had tears in your eyes for reasons you could not explain, and you didn't want him to see you like that. Why on earth were you now crying over a 3?!
Cassian walked over to you and gently held your chin, pulling your face to look at him. You breathed in his scent, feeling an instant calm, and took a deep breath. When your eyes met his, Cassian looked at you with concern.
"You look exhausted, y/n, have you been sleeping?" he asked.
"Yes, Cassian, I have been sleeping - I think I'm just having a bad day that's all" you replied, a little too harshly, pulling your eyes away from his so he couldn't see the tears re-forming in response to his gentle worrying. You response made Cassian's concern grow, so he bent down, scooped you off the chair, and carried you out of the study.
"CASSIAN PUT ME DOWN" you shouted, smacking at his shoulders, mindful to avoid his wings.
"Not a chance. You look like you need to sleep, and considering you nearly bit my head off when I asked, I am insisting that you at least humour me with a one hour nap" he retorted, carrying you up the stairs to the second floor. You noticed that you passed your own bedroom door, and had been walked straight into Cassian's. He put you down on his bed and walked over to draw his curtains. You started to protest, but you couldn't deny that his bed was particularly comfy, and his scent had such a calming effect on you that your lids were already getting heavy.
"Sleep", Cassian said, pulling the duvet up to your chin. "I will wake you in an hour".
You wanted to argue back, but you hadn't truly realised how tired you were, and with the warmth, the scent, the darkness, the quiet, you found yourself quickly drifting off for your Cassian-prescribed nap.
-
The door creaked open exactly one hour late, and Cassian froze. He couldn't sense a threat, couldn't see anyone in his room besides you still curled up asleep in his bed, but he could scent blood. He padded over to you, concern lacing his voice as he gentle called your name and shook your shoulder to wake you.
"y/n? It's been an hour, are you ready to get up?" he asked, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed. You stirred and slowly leant up on your elbows, peering at him with half-asleep eyes. You opened your mouth to respond, but suddenly felt yourself hit with an intense stomach cramp and your mouth watered with nausea. You flew from the bed, pushing Cassian to the side as you headed straight for his bathroom. A few moments later and Cassian was beside you, holding your hair and rubbing your back.
When you had finished, he carefully leaned you back against the edge of the bathtub.
"Are you ok?" he asked, his face etched with worry.
"Better now I think", you replied, "I'm so sorry Cassian I don't know what came over me, maybe I ate something funny, I was feeling a bit off all day before you found me".
"So when I asked if you were ok earlier, you lied" he said, although the corners of his mouth tipped up into a small smile.
"Potentially" was all you could get out, before another wave of pain and nausea took over your body and you crawled back towards the toilet.
"I'm just going to head down and get you a glass of water, ok? Stay here" he ordered, before turning quickly on his heels and heading out.
After you had finished, Cassian still hadn't returned, so you decided to hoist yourself up and get back into his bed, feeling a bit better on the nausea side - although still having some stomach cramps. It was when you reached the side of the bed you had been sleeping on that you looked down and saw the large pool of blood covering the bed sheets. Gazing down, you realised it was not only covering the bed, but also covering you - bright red coating the entire inside seam of your pale blue leggings, almost down to your knees. You shook violently, panic and embarrassment taking over your entire body. You quickly threw Cassian's pillows on the floor and started to tear at the bedding, wanting to get it off and change it as quickly as you could before he could realise, but you had barely got half of the bed sheet off the giant bed before Cassian re-appeared in the doorway.
You turned to face him, a tray in his hands, and crumpled onto the floor. This is exactly what you needed today - the hot General that you have a major crush on has tried to do something nice for you and you have completely put your foot in it and destroyed his bed. Great. Just fab.
"Hey hey" Cassian quickly put the tray on his desk before dropping down to your level. "What's the matter?" he asked. You couldn't even get the words out between your sobs, gesturing blindly at the bed and yourself. You hid your face in your hands, utterly mortified.
Cassian's confusion was so evident that you dared to glance up at him. "Are you ok?" was all he asked. You nodded, then shook your head, then resumed sobbing. He pulled you into his chest and let you continue until your tears turned to small sniffs.
"I guessed when I opened the door" he said quietly, his hands stroking through your hair. "Your mad dash to the toilet was all the confirmation I needed - you almost sent me flying off the bed and, whilst I train you well, you're not normally that strong" he teased.
"I'm so sorry" was all you could get out, head still buried in his chest.
"Nonsense, what is there to be sorry about?" he asked.
"I ruined your bed".
Cassian laughed and helped you both stand up. "I quite literally cause people to bleed for a living. A bit on my bed is hardly cause for concern". He guided you over to the tray he had brought upstairs.
"So, I have got you some peppermint tea to help with the nausea, Rhys gave me a tonic he gives to Feyre to help with the pain - but he said Feyre always complains about how bad it tastes, so there's a lemon drop sweet for after just in case - and I stole a slice of Elain's chocolate cake that was in the fridge because I thought you might like that - oh and some cheese. I'm not sure why, but I thought you might want some, I always think cheese helps make any situation better, but maybe not if you've been sick..."
He was so excited as he showed you all the goodies he had found for you that your embarrassment fell away completely, even though you realised he must have announced your situation to the entire house downstairs. Before you could make any comment, he grasped your shoulders and walked you back to the bathroom, where the House had run you a lavender scented bath.
"Hop in the bath, freshen up, and you can enjoy the cake" he said, with a beam. He handed you a fresh set of pyjamas he had taken from your room and closed the door behind himself to give you some privacy.
After your soak, you changed and headed back into his bedroom. The sheets were fresh, with no sign of your incident, and Cassian was lounging on his side with a book in hand. You noticed that the book you had been reading, a smutty romance recommended by the House, was resting on the other pillow. Cassian must have grabbed it from your room when he got the pyjamas. He smiled at you when you came back and offered you a hand to climb onto the bed next to him.
"You are staying in here tonight, ok?" he said, "I don't want you to be alone and refuse help if you need it, especially since you were so stubborn earlier".
You laughed, quite happy to stay in Cassian's bed. He pulled the tray over to you both and offered you the peppermint tea and a fork for the chocolate cake.
"OH WAIT, take the tonic first!" he said, handing it to you. Feyre was right, it was disgusting. But, it did help the dull ache in your stomach, enough so that you were able to happily enjoy your slice of stolen chocolate cake. You made a mental note to apologise to Elain tomorrow.
After you were quite full and content, and had settled down to read for a while, you felt your eyes getting heavy again. Cassian noticed, and pulled you into him. You revelled in the comfort, enjoying every moment of it - you didn't think you'd ever get another chance to be this close to him and you certainly weren't going to pass it up.
"Sleep", he said "it'll help". He started to read aloud from his book, helping you to ease into a deep, deep sleep. One of the best sleeps of your life.
"Thank you, Cassian, for everything" you mumbled, eyes closed.
"You are welcome, y/n" he replied, pulling you closer to his body.
You were silent then, your body and eyes heavy, your brain slowly quieting and shutting down for the night. You felt Cassian lean down, assuming you had fallen asleep, and place a gentle kiss on the top of your head. As sleep called to you, you heard him very quietly whisper into the dark, "I would go to the ends of the Earth for you, y/n".
118 notes · View notes
spookyspecterino · 3 days
Text
Back to You Again
Tumblr media
Tangerine x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Injury, mention of blood, mention of death/fear of death, arguing/bickering, swearing. Serious idiots in love who have a little trouble expressing their feelings and choose the wrong time to do it.
You've been gone a little while. A few months to be specific. Why? Tangerine can only guess, but he's not happy about it.
Requested by @nocturnest. I'm so sorry this took so long. I started it thinking it was going to be short and then 7K words flew out. 😬Anyway, thanks for your request. It's been a long time since I wrote anything seriously and this was really good for me. Hope you enjoy!
Tumblr media
“Laser cutter. Three auto-rifles. Two handguns. Three boxes of ammo each.”
Check.
The binoculars are heavy duty, and the metal texture grates your fingers as you pull them up to peer through the lenses into the next building over. A high-rise that had at least 30 floors. All windowed at least, which made this a little easier on you.
“In through the fifth-floor service area. Through the employee hallway to the service elevator.”
A map of the building laid next to you on the gravel roof. It hadn’t been easy to get your hands on it, but it was worth it for a building as secure as this. No security measure had been overlooked by this man and as paranoid as he seemed it went a long way to his credibility.
“In and out through the service elevator. 20 mins tops. Oh, the jammer.”
A handheld device that you’d paid top dollar for. Yes, it has duct tape holding pieces of it together, and the screen was a repurposed old Gameboy front, but it is the best your back-channel dealer could provide.
How did anyone do anything without a handler these days?
The jammer would save you the trouble (if things turned sideways) of dealing with reinforcements. It flickers to life by flipping a switch smoldered to its side. The thing really does look like a piece of garbage. And, despite what the dealer said, the duct tape and flimsy-ness of it
Several frequencies and networks flashed across the screen, all of them belonging to the building you were surveying. Scrolling through, only a few needed to be shut down, too many and it would raise alarms.
Wifi was the last to be turned off and then you would really need to book it inside.
Everything planned out to a T. Entrance and exits mapped. Back-up plans (and back-up plans to those back-up plans) in place. Extra weapons and ammo in case you had to go out guns blazing. This should be no problem.
“Office-penthouse on the top floor. Computer terminal on the desk, west side.”
Get to the computer, get the files, destroy everything. If you happened to kill the son of a bitch, well, that was a bonus.
You sigh and rub your face, trying to work out the stress lines that seemed to make a permanent home between your brows. “Now I just need to stop talking to myself.”
It was an unfortunate habit you’d picked up in the last few months of working alone. Usually, you had… no. This was no time to think of them, or of him. You have to focus. After this is done, you can go back and apologize, even grovel if you have to.
But now is the time for focus.
In the middle of repeating this mantra, one you’ve been repeating for the last month, you happen to look up at the street. Not for any real reason, nothing had drawn your attention. Nothing was amiss in your perfect plan.
Except two very familiar faces walking down the sidewalk.
Lemon and Tangerine.
Clad in their typical attire. Snazzy suits, dress shoes, and ties.
Your stomach does several things. First it flips at the sight of Tangerine as he saunters with his hands in his pockets, then it sinks and twists into painful knots.
“No, no, no!”
They can’t be here! Anywhere but here!
The two walked casually down the sidewalk, as if they were taking a nice midday stroll. No rifles, no car, nothing. Either they were ballsy as hell…or wildly misinformed about this building and the man inside.
Something in you hoped, prayed, they would pass the building. That they were going somewhere else.
They took a sharp turn to cross the street—toward the building entrance—and your breath turned ragged, your blood chilled. At the same time, your mind was churning with practicality, cold and calculated ideas. Some nasty part of you that had gotten you this far in such a dangerous career, that had nestled in you a long time ago and only now resurfaced in the months of being alone.
You could just walk away; they have their job, and they’re professionals. They can handle themselves.
You could go in after and clean up without ever being seen. Easy. The plan you made could still work, Tangerine and Lemon would be a perfect distraction.
But you were already moving. Lega working on their own and putting you into motion. Fingers tapping off the Wi-Fi signal on the jammer while you slung your duffle bag over your shoulder.
This was not the plan, you argued with yourself as you flew down the back stairs. You’ll get yourself killed being this reckless and impulsive. What happened to in and out in 20 mins?
With every point you made the other side of your mind made a counterpoint.
They’re underprepared. They’re misinformed. They don’t have the firepower to walk in the front door, hell, they don’t have enough bullets to make it to the second floor.
“God damn it!” You yelled, taking the stairs down two at a time. Your voice echoed off the walls in the cramped stairwell. The rifles in your duffle bag clattered and banged together.
They’d be killed. Tangerine and Lemon would be killed. You couldn’t let that happen.
. . .
“I say we take a hostage and negotiate our way up.”
“Yeah, sure, Lemon.”
“This guy’s what, a tech billionaire, or something?”
“Probably.”
“Ok, so he’s a nerd. Easy job.”
“Uh-huh.”
Lemon shoots his brother a less than happy look. Tangerine is staring off into space with a slight frown, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he hunches over a little. Which wasn’t new, he’d been doing that a lot lately. A reflection of his dour mood.
Lemon rolls his eyes. “Oh, mate. Come on. We’re on a job.”
Tangerine shrugs, frowning harder. “I’m fuckin’ aware of that, Lemon.”
“Then stop with your sulking! What have I told you?”
“No—” Tangerine waves a hand, “—you don’t need to say it again—”
“Just send her a letter or something. She’d love it.”
Tangerine groans, he’s starting to get a headache now as they near the target building. “As I’ve said before, I attached letters on the flowers I sent.”
Lemon opens his mouth, but Tangerine cuts him off. “And I sent more than one bouquet. For fuck’s sake, her house probably looks like a tropical rainforest by now.”
“What about—”
“I’ve sent her presents. Jewelry. Perfume. A new phone in case hers was broken. Fuckin’ hell I even had her porch repainted.”
“And she didn’t say anything?”
“Nothing.”
Lemon hesitates. “Did you say you’re sorry?”
Now Tangerine was about to lose it. His eye twitched, not that his brother could see it. “Sorry for what? She’s the one that up and disappeared without a word.”
“I still think you should say it. Just to cover your bases.”
“I’m not apologizing. We were all perfect and you know that. She was happy as a clam and if something was wrong, she would have told me.”
“Then why’d she—”
“You’re really getting on my fucking nerves, Lemon.”
They were across the street from the main entrance now. Two glass doors with golden handles reflected the brothers. In sync they both took a sharp turn toward them. Through the glass they didn’t see anyone else in the lobby and there was a long, chest high counter with a clerk along the far back wall.
Neither of them blinked at how empty the lobby was. Their client had said this target was some kind of informant, but that was about it. They’d paid half up front and sent them on their merry way.
Tangerine yanked open the glass door, holding it for Lemon. He was beyond pissed and just wanted this to be over with. Despite his complaints he was still mulling over what his brother said. Should he apologize, even though he had done nothing wrong? He didn’t think he’d done anything wrong, and he had thought back on all the times you’d been with them, working a job or not.
He’d been happy, he thought you were happy too.
The white floor tiles of the lobby were so shiny they could check their reflections in them. The whole place was upstanding and flaunted wealth. On both sides of the spacious lobby were two silver elevators. The clerk, a lady in her mid-thirties, looked up at them as they walked in. She picked up a phone and turned away as she spoke.
It took them 10 seconds to reach the desk, and, in that time, Lemon had pulled out his gun.
He pointed it at her now. “Hang up the phone.”
She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. Not the usual response someone has when a gun is pointed at them, but she slowly hangs up.
“Come out from behind the desk, slowly.”
There’s a moment when she does nothing. Then, “No.”
Tangerine blinks, then pulls out his own gun. “Did you really just say no? Listen lady—”
She leans forward over the desk, leering. “Turn around and get the fuck out.”
Lemon shoots into the wall slightly to her left. She doesn’t even flinch at the sound. “I will fucking shoot you. Get out. From behind. The desk.”
She leans back. “Cute gun.”
Tangerine starts to get a sinking feeling. He turns to Lemon, about to say they should take a walk (maybe find a back entrance to this place instead) when the woman pulls out .22 Uzi from somewhere in the desk. They only catch a glimpse of the muzzle before they start shooting wildly and ducking.
Lemon takes a shot to the chest with a grunt. Tangerine hears the bullets whizzing past him and shattering glass.
The desk clerk turns disappearing behind an employee door seamlessly built into the wall.
They crouch down next to the desk. Tangerine’s head pounds, as it usually does when a job gets out of control.
“You alright?” He reloads his gun, watching his brother carefully.
Lemon checks himself over, patting his chest and stomach. “Yeah, all good, the vest caught it. This is fucked what do we do—”
He doesn’t get a chance to finish as both elevators open and squads of heavily armored men pour out. They all have automatic rifles and black Kevlar vests.
“Behind the desk!” Tangerine shouts, pulling Lemon up.
They jump over just as the bullets start flying. Glass shatters, wood splinters, tiles crack. It’s utter chaos and Tangerine and Lemon can only sit behind cover.
“I think we might be fucked!” Lemon shouts, checking his gun.
Tangerine grits his teeth, mind racing. “The client didn’t mention this level of security! I’m going to wring their fucking neck!”
“We’re outmatched!”
“No question, Lemon! Thanks for pointing that out!” Tangerine can feel his brother’s rising anxiety as he shifts his weight from foot to foot.
 “What do we do?!”
“We hope to God this is all of them and try our best to make it out of here!”
“You’re saying—”
Tangerine fires blindly from behind the desk. “Yes, we bail on this job and break our client’s fucking legs!”
The onslaught never seems to end. These assholes are top security and they’re trained well. Their shots chip away at the desk piece by piece, Tangerine and Lemon can feel the bullets violently embed themselves in the wood against their backs.
Tangerine glances at the employee door, there’s no handle and no way to pry it open. He figures there’s a remote control that opens it somewhere from behind. He tries to remain calm, think of a way out that isn’t behind at least 10 guys with rifles.
What would you do in this situation? His heart feels like it’s been pierced with a lance as he thinks of you. Obviously, you would never be caught in a situation like this. You were careful, practical, methodical in the way you planned out jobs.
He wished you were here with him.
Instinctually, his hand reaches into his pocket, grabbing his phone. Lemon watches him with something close to sympathy on his face.
Your number is on speed dial. Tangerine presses a button and holds it up to his ear.
It goes straight to voicemail.
The automated answering machine has become very familiar to him these last few months. Were you checking his voicemails? He’d left you enough to fill up your mailbox, he was sure of it.
“Please leave a message after the tone.”
He hopes you can hear him over the sound of gunshots.
“Yeah, look. Lemon and I, we’re in a bit of a pickle. I was really hoping you would answer this time ‘cause we need help. Since you didn’t, I just wanted to say that you’re a real prick for leaving us the way you did. And you haven’t said a single thank you or anything for all the gifts I’ve sent. Poor Lemon has been wondering where you went off to.” He pauses. This wasn’t the way he wanted to start this message, but every other attempt at getting your attention has failed.
“You know how I feel, I’ve made that pretty clear. But right now, I’m just pissed. Nothing has worked, so I’m going to break into your house and wait for you to come home.”
Lemon gives him a startled look, shakes his head from side to side.
Tangerine frowns. “Don’t take that the wrong—Alright, I won’t break into your house, but I will wait on your doorstep. Every day, I’ll be there until I see you.”
Lemon is still frowning, but Tangerine ignores him.
“This is all because…Well, I…” He struggles, throat turning dry and closing around the words he wants to say. Instead of continuing, he hangs up.
Sitting back against the desk he exhales. The gunfire has stopped to an occasional patter here and there.
Lemon runs a hand through his hair. “Bruv, what the fuck was that?”
“A last-ditch effort at getting some backup.”
They fell into silence; the lobby was eerily quiet. They knew the security team was just waiting for them to come out from behind the desk. The air crackled with energy.
Lemon checked his pockets. “I’ve got two clips left, you?”
“One and a half.”
The look they share conveys their doubts, their dread. An unspoken conversation passes between them.
Tangerine puts it in the back of his mind. “I’ll run out first, then you go a few seconds later.”
“No way, we go at the same time.”
He shakes his head but arguing only puts off the inevitable.
“Go to the opposite side of the desk.”
They split, crouching behind opposite corners. There was no way either of them would be able to make it two steps without taking 10 rounds to the chest. The image of you stays in Tangerine’s mind. He just wished he could see you again. Whatever comes next, afterlife or not, he hoped you—or some form of you—would be in it.
Tangerine gives Lemon one last look, finds that his brother is watching him, and gives him a somber nod. He holds his gun up, takes a deep breath, gets ready to run…
He’s out from behind the desk, gritting his teeth and firing in a flash.
He hits one, another to his left falls from Lemon’s bullets. His legs are shaky, he can feel them trembling.
Rifles take aim.
Tangerine opens his mouth to urge Lemon on.
And a grenade goes off.
The loud bang startles him, his ears ring and a second later he’s shrouded in white, smokey fog. Tangerine stops, confused, looking around to try and find Lemon. But a strong hand yanks him and drags him back. He stumbles, scattering empty bullet shells along the ground, and falls onto the tile.
He’s back behind the desk. Lemon falls next to him.
A pair of legs stands between the brothers. Next to them lies a green duffle bag. Empty rifle shells fall to the ground. Tangerine didn’t even realize guns were firing. He followed the legs up in one long sweep of his eyes.
. . .
A million and one things were going through your mind as you fired an automatic rifle at the security team in the lobby. The biggest thing was holding back every fiber of your damn being from screaming at Tangerine and Lemon for being so foolish.
If you had been a breath later, a second too late, these idiots would be laying in a pile of their own blood on the floor. That thought definitely won’t haunt you for a few months.
The other thing you were concentrating on was ignoring the way Tangerine was staring at you right now. He’s not hurt—you kept repeating, over and over again. He’s ok.
The security team was scattering for cover, but finding little, making your job easy as the last of the smoke cleared. They hadn’t been expecting someone to come in from behind and you’d shot a few in the back before throwing the smoke grenade. Only a few were left now.
They seemed to get over their surprise and began firing back, opening the elevators, and using the inside cabins for cover. Keeping the doors open would stop them from being sent back up for more goons to come through. That was good.
You duck down behind the desk. They were still staring at you.
“Yes! Hello!” You stubbornly gritted out while staring into the wood.
Tangerine’s mouth opened and closed many times, but no words came out. That didn’t mean Lemon wasn’t able to say anything.
“Did you get his message?” He was grinning like some kind of fool.
“Message? Which one?”
Was he talking about the hundreds of messages—texts, voicemails, and letters—Tangerine had been sending on a weekly basis? Yes, you’d gotten them. Read every single one. It had been hard enough sleeping normally, after all that you hadn’t been able to sleep at all. The guilt was overwhelming.
Lemon’s eyes dart to his brother. You did the same and regretted it immediately.
Tangerine’s eyes were practically bulging from his head. His mustache twitched.
Oh, he’s pissed.
You quickly look away and clear your throat. “Are you on a job?”
“Yeah, a shit one. We were just trying to bail.”
“Can’t blame you. What happened, bad intel?”
Tangerine’s voice resembled a growl, it grated against your ear, but it wasn’t entirely unwelcome. “Understatement of the century, love.”
Love. Love. Love.
Lemon wipes his forehead. “What’re you doing here?”
“I have my own problems with your target.” You turn to Lemon but feel Tangerine’s eyes burning a hole in your back. “I was about to sneak in when I saw you two walking down the street.” You check your gun, then rummage through the duffle bag for another clip.
“A massive coincidence then?” Lemon was holding back a smile, eyes darting to Tangerine occasionally. It was as if they weren’t just about to die only five minutes ago.
“If you two still want to bail, that’s fine with me. I’ll give you a window after taking the rest out. I’m going to push on.”
Tangerine spins you around by the shoulder to face him. “Are you fucking mental?”
You’re very close together. The determination it takes not to just lean in and…
Speaking slow, you’re focusing your words and hoping it gets through to him. “Your target has info on me that could get people hurt and ruin my reputation. I need to wipe his computer.”
For all his credit, Tangerine takes you seriously in that moment, even as he looks like he might commit murder. He looks to Lemon—they do that ‘sibling conversation’ without words that they’re so good at.
“We’ll stick around to help.”
“You sure?”
Something in him ignites. There’s a fire behind his eyes. “Fuck yes, we’re sure.”
He’s giving mixed signals now. Is he angry? Probably. But apparently not angry enough to leave you on a job alone.
“Alright…” You say, slowly backing away.
You search through the duffle bag, cold objects graze your fingers, you can identify them each by touch. The laser cutter has a rubber handle. “Lemon—" You toss it to him. “—Cut a hole in the employee door. Tangerine—” You grab another rifle, placing it into his hands. “—Help me take out the last of the guys.”
He takes the rifle and for a moment your hands touch. You expect him to flinch away, or recoil, but he lingers there for a moment. His golden rings gleam—of course he wore them, he never leaves them behind—and catch your eyes until he takes the gun from you.
Fucking confusing.
It had been months, but the three of you worked together like no time had passed at all. Tangerine falling in sync with you, watching your back. Working in tandem, the few remaining riflemen dropped like flies.
“Doors open!” Lemon shouted tapping you and Tangerine’s shoulder.
The three of you waste no time dashing into the small service hallway. Tangerine grabbed the duffle bag and slung it over his shoulder. You were just about to pick it up, but he gave you a look.
There wasn’t as much polish to this part of the building, the lighting was dimmer, and it lacked the white tiles, replaced by a steely gray metal flooring instead. The hallway was long and narrow, its walls matched the floor in color.
“This should lead to an employee elevator. That will take us to the top office.” You panted, oddly exhilarated.
Lemon was looking down the hallway as he crouched. “Watch out for the desk clerk, she went this way.”
“Still can’t believe you both just walked in the front door…”
“We don’t all have your sense of planning, darling.” Tangerine huffed, hiking the bag higher on his shoulder.
“Did you have any sense of planning?”
“Lemon had a plan.”
You turn halfway back to face him. “You—Tangerine!”
He fixes you with an odd look. “What?”
“Lemon doesn’t even read the briefs! And you let him make the plan?” You shoot an apologetic look to Lemon. “No offense, you’re really great in every other area.”
He gives you a half smile. “I appreciate that.”
Tangerine grinds his teeth. “In my defense, the intel in the brief was already bad.” He steps closer, into your personal space. “And you always come up with the plans.”
You don’t shy away from him, in fact, you inch closer. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to make them, but you should know better—”
Lemon sighs, long and loud. “Can you two please focus? We’re in the middle of a dangerous situation here.”
It took a moment for you and Tangerine to resume, the closeness was intimate. Electricity crackles in the air between you.
You both say ‘Fine’ at the same time, like stubborn teenagers. The tension hadn’t settled one bit.
If Tangerine needed to be ignored for the remainder of this mission, then ok. That’s fine. No problem. That doesn’t bother you one bit. Nope.
The three of you empty the duffle bag of its contents, splitting the ammo and giving Lemon the pump action shotgun. That shotgun was your Hail Mary in case shit hit the fan—which, by your definition, it had.
You three were your own personal attack squad now, armed to the teeth.
The employee lift was at the end of the twisting hallway, metallic doors shining like a beacon. The panel to call it only had the arrow pointing up, a one-way lift. You’d poured over the maps late into the night leading up to your personal mission, often with a glass of wine, and it had struck you as odd that it only offered a one way up.
You jab at the button, and the little golden light is stark against the greys around it. Tangerine stands just behind you; you can hear his breath over your shoulder.
“Why’s it only one way?” he asks, hushed and tense.
“I asked the same question.” You responded turning a little to look at him. “I thought it might be security measures.”
“Doesn’t really make sense though, does it? It lets people like us up.” Tangerine zeroes in on your frown. “What is it?”
“There might be internal controls from the top office. This guy doesn’t fuck around with security.”
“Who is this guy anyway?” Lemon sniffs, casting a look back down the hallway.
“An asshole that likes snooping into people’s personal business.”
The brothers trade looks.
“He also works in satellite tech, undercover ops, information gathering.”
There’s a gentle bump into your shoulder. “He’s been snooping into your business, has he?”
How long is this elevator going to take?
“He has.”
“Did he try to blackmail you?”
“Yes.”
“What did he find?”
The elevator dings and the sleek metal doors slide open. The inside is full of ominous red and gold hues. The luxuriousness of it gives you the impression that the boss of the building takes it regularly.
Instead of answering, you step inside and forcefully hit the button for the top floor. Tangerine watches you carefully, studying you. Somehow, he looks like a kicked puppy, yet holding the rifle he takes on a much more sinister tone. He still looks dashing as hell in his suit though. You can see the little gold chain of his necklace around his broad neck.
Focus, focus, focus!
His mustache twitches a bit as he catches you staring. And to top that off, he stands in front of you, very closely in front. Either trying to shield you or irritate you. Possibly both.
He’s wearing the cologne you got him as a present almost a year ago.
“If there’s in house security for this lift, we should be prepared.” You shift a little to see Lemon over Tangerine’s shoulder.
“What do you suggest?”
“They know we’re coming, so we have to be fast. Their access to elevators has been blocked. All remaining security teams will need to take the stairs. This elevator opens to another employee hallway that we’ll have to exit in order to reach the office. That’s assuming—”
The elevator stutters, something above you screeches in the elevator shaft, and the panel lights flicker. All three of you stumble as it comes to an abrupt stop and the dim emergency lights switch on. They coat the interior in a faint red light, turning it into a nightmare scenario.
 You groan. “That’s assuming they don’t just turn the elevator off. Fuck.”
Lemon places the shotgun on the floor and motions to Tangerine. Together they pry the paneling off to reveal the switchboard underneath. Lemon fusses with the wiring, using a knife to cut through some and connect it to others.
Sparks fly, flashing in the dim light. Your anxiety ramps. Trapped in an elevator was not on your list of things you wanted to deal with today.
While Lemon fussed with wires, Tangerine turned back to you. “Relax.”
“Excuse me?”
“Try to stay calm, we’ll be out in a second or two.”
Your blood boiled hot. “Don’t tell me to be calm.”
Tangerine smiles at you. “I know you hate elevators.”
“They’re fine, I just particularly hate being trapped in them.”
“Just relax, I’ve got you.”
“That doesn’t help at all!”
More sparks and flickering lights and the elevator doors open an inch. Tangerine has the audacity to smirk in that moment and he touches your chin briefly. His eyes gleam in the dim light.
If you all lived, you were going to kill him.
The twins work wordlessly to pry the elevator doors open. It takes a tremendous effort and both of them are sweaty and breathing hard at the end, but there’s enough space for a person to climb through. Except, you’re going to have to jump down into the office below. Half the elevator is blocked.
“Well, good news is…” Lemon says, scratching his head, “we can get out. And if the elevator can only fall downward.”
“The elevator only goes up, Lemon.” You choke out.
“Oh. Right…well, best get a move on then.”
“I’ll go first.” Tangerine volunteers.
On instinct you reach for him. He sees the slight movement before you hold yourself back.
As if it was easy, he’s crouching down, squeezing through the doors, and jumping into the office below. All with his gun in his hand. Meanwhile, your heart is doing summersaults in your throat.
He holds his hands up, beckoning you. “Come on. You’ve done harder things than this.”
You force yourself to move, crouching down and inching toward the opening. You toss him your rifle. “Like when?”
“Like when you jumped between rooftops in Venezuela.”
“I wasn’t thinking when I did that! And in hindsight, it was fucking stupid of me.”
He laughs. “I’ve got you. Come on.”
You squeeze through the doors, imagining the elevator crashing down, the doors snapping shut, something—anything drastic, and then throw yourself at Tangerine. He catches you with practiced ease and holds you close to him.
He says something you don’t catch over the sound of your trembling breaths. There’s a pat on your shoulder, Lemon is out.
Regaining yourself, you move away from Tangerine and straighten your clothes. His brow furrows, mustache tilts down. Maybe it was your imagination, but did his fingers grip your clothes? A silent plea for you to stay?
You do your best to ignore it. “Let’s go. Did anyone catch what floor we stopped on?”
“37th.” Lemon says, handing over your gun.
“Two floors short.”
“You think they’re waiting for us?”
“I’d bet money on it. Be careful, both of you. I don’t want to see any heroics.”
Tangerine’s eyes follow you as you move to the front and lead them through the hallway at a jogging pace. The single door at the end is much like the one you entered on the first-floor lobby. There’s a control panel for it to the side. As you run up to it, you press your ear to the other side.
No noise.
Your hand hovers over the button. With one last look behind you at the twins you give them a nod, then press it. The door clicks open a fraction, and everything goes to shit.
They were waiting for you on the other side of the door and the gunfire started up immediately. Your vision was blocked immediately, and you were pushed and tugged out by a strong hand—the world was a blur of loud shots, ringing ears, and scrambling. Grey cubicles shoulder-height tall were set up along the floor, which made spotting the enemy incredibly hard. All the fighting was done in the tight walkways between the office spaces.
Your shirt had blood on it, but you had no bullet wounds. Tangerine sat beside you, holding an arm. He’d been shot in his right arm.
“I said no heroics!” You practically shrieked.
Lemon was firing between cubicles, and from the sound of it, he was holding his own.
“What was I supposed to do, love?” Tangerine pants through the pain.
“You’re supposed to let me handle it!” You’re shouting as you pull out some gauze. The bullet went straight through his upper arm. He’d need stitches but, overall, he would be ok. You poke and prod gently as he hisses with each touch.
His teeth are gritted as he grunts out, “You wanted to get shot?”
“I’d take a bullet for you, happily. You know that.”
“I feel the same way, which is what I was doing.”
“I still don’t want you to!”
“I don’t want you to, either!”
Something bounces off your back. It’s a stapler. Both you and Tangerine stare at it for a moment, confused.
“Oi! You two! Get over yourselves and actually talk about your feelings for once!”
You whip around to stare daggers at Lemon. “Did you just throw a stapler at me?!”
He’s taking cover behind a grey cubicle not too far away. “Yeah, I did! I’m sick of you two avoiding an actual conversation. Talk—it—out!”
Tangerine sits up, pushing against your hands on his chest in your weak attempt to keep him down. “You’ve lost your mind, mate!”
“Thomas would say to express your feelings, that bottling them up is bad for you! So, express them!”
“Is it really necessary—” You pick up your rifle and fire blindly down the walkway, “—to do this now? We’re a little busy!”
“It’s now or never, I know you two! Once all this stops, you’ll avoid it!”
Tangerine looks perplexed, like he’s really considering it, and you try not to look at him again. “Fuck this job!” You shout, before rolling into the walkway and opening fire.
The two or three men that hadn’t been behind cover are caught by surprise and the bullets chew through the walls of the cubicles. A deadly silence permeates the office floor, only the ringing in your ears remains.
Another shot rings out and you feel like your shoulder’s been ripped from the socket.
You’re thrown back onto the ground. It must have been a heavy round, your left arm is completely numb, do you even have an arm left?
There’s shouting and more gunshots, the grey office walls and floor merge into one as the room spins. You’re getting pulled off the ground, someone is prodding your arm. Absentmindedly, you swat at whoever is doing it.
“Listen, hey, open your eyes!”
Tangerine…
You obey. He’s inches in front of your face, brows furrowed, a vein in his forehead sticks out.
“I’m fine.” You cough out. “Just fell down, is all.”
“You’ve been shot!”
“Oh.”
He struggles, he looks like he has more to say, but stays silent. You swat at Lemon who’s wrapping your arm—or shoulder, more accurately. “I’m fine, let’s keep going.”
“You’re not fine.” Lemon grunts, pushing your hand away. “It was a .308 round. You’ll be lucky if you have any bones left in your shoulder.”
“Why’d you do that?!” Tangerine is shouting, running his hand through his hair. You both match now, he’s bandaged up on his left arm too.
“Do what?” You ask through gritted teeth as Lemon tightens the bandage.
“Run out like an absolute lunatic?”
“I told you I’d take a bullet for you.”
His eyes bug out. “You threw yourself into the line of fire!”
“All in a day’s work. Now, can we get back to it?” You don’t wait for a response, instead pushing yourself to your feet. Your left arm hangs to the side, limp and numb. A dull throb pulses through your side.
Tangerine watches you. “We need to have a serious discussion when this is over, love.”
You huff out a breath, swaying slightly. “Noted.”
The three of you push on in tense silence. Tangerine makes sure you’re behind him while the rest of the floors leading to the main penthouse office are cleared. He’s acting so stubborn, blocking you at every turn, holding you back with a gentle, yet unyielding hand. The vein in his forehead never goes away.
Finally, the double doors leading to the office are before you. Platinum gold, of course, with carved handles. This guy’s style was beginning to get obnoxious.
Lemon kicks open the doors with as much anger and prejudice as you feel (yet can’t muster at the moment). Instead of what you were expecting, the target stands alone behind his desk. He smirks, giving off a Wall Street investor impression with his pressed suit and perfectly cut hair.
He spreads his arms wide. “I really should have known you three would be together for this.”
“Shut up, wanker.” Tangerine shouts, pointing his gun.
The target opens his mouth to say more, but Tangerine doesn’t let him. He empties the clip into the man’s chest.
The target dies with a startled look on his face, falling back over his desk.
You move past Tangerine, fighting his hands that grip at your clothing. “Thank God for that.”
The computer is easily hacked, the files you’re after are on the desktop. Maybe the dead man was looking to bargain—or gloat. You glance at his dead, glazed over eyes.
Bastard.
Tangerine paces, looking at you often. His job is done, the confirmation is sent to the client through Lemon’s phone.
Your files are downloaded onto an encrypted flash drive, and you rip the wiring out of the computer’s back, smashing the server tower. Mission accomplished.
“I guess now that you have what you need, you’ll disappear again.” Tangerine is glaring at you, chewing his lip. His bandage is bloody.
The flood gates open.
“I needed these files!” You shout, worsening the headache you already have.
Tangerine shouts back, taking a step closer. “I would have understood if you had just told me!”
“I couldn’t have told you!”
“Why not?”
“Because—well—I didn’t—It doesn’t matter now!”
“So, you disappear for months, without a word, for something you won’t even tell me about?!”
“I didn’t want to involve you! I wanted to get this done myself!”
“I’m involved now!”
“It was a shitty coincidence you showed up here today, and I’m sorry you got hurt because of this job!”
“I’m not concerned about me!”
“Well, you should be! I care about your safety!”
“And I care about yours!”
In the corner, Lemon shakes his head.
You hold your arm, trying to work some feeling back into it. It throbs and you wish you hadn’t. “I would have come back after this was done.”
“Oh, really?” Tangerine laughs dryly. “How was I to know?”
You groan, throat turning dry. “You’re so impatient! I just needed a little time!”
“You know how often I tried to reach you—?”
“Yes! I heard every message, got every bouquet of flowers—and thank you for my porch, that was really nice.”
Tangerine flounders a little, he still wants to argue, but some of the steam has been let out. “A thank you would have been nice.”
“I’m thanking you now!”
“A whole good that did when I thought you were done with me—” He shoots a look at his brother, “—and Lemon!”
“I’ll say I’m sorry a thousand more times, Tangerine! Is that what you want?”
He turns his back to you, grumbling something.
“I don’t understand why it was such a big deal to you, we’re contractors! We kill people for a living, and you’re freaking out—”
He spins back around. “It’s a big deal because I thought you were hurt.” He stalks closer, you notice his hair has come undone from the neat gel, curls flair out around his neck. “I thought something happened to you!” He’s within arm’s distance now. “It’s a big deal because I love you!”
And then he stops. His eyes go wide, as if he’s just spilled a secret.
Fuck, he did just spill a secret. Maybe you had known, but he’s never said anything. It was always just little guesses here and there, a thought—a feeling—and inclination. Late nights, especially recently, that you spent thinking about it, wondering.
Your mouth falls open in the silence. “I—I…love…” but damned if your mouth just wasn’t getting it out.
Arguing and bickering was so much easier.
But he knows, he can see it in the way your eyes soften, in the way you swallow with a dry throat. In the way your hand reaches to him, and your body leans forward.
“You know…” Lemon says, looking up from his phone, “Most people would kiss at this point. Just a suggestion.”
A quip, a very fitting one, comes to mind and you’re about to tell Lemon just how you’re not normal people, when Tangerine pulls you to him. Your chest presses to his and his lips are on yours in an instant.
Hungry, needy. It’s desperate, an urgent need be close, to be touching. Burning with desire and hot with passion. You give into it.
His mustache scratches at your lips and you pull him into you, threading your fingers through his curly hair, mussing it up even more. His hands grip at your back, pull at your clothes.
Closer. You need to be closer.
Fuck air, the feeling of his lips moving against yours is the only thing you’ll ever need again.
Your arm throbs and the dull pulse shoots up to your chest. You sigh, half in pain and half in pleasure. Unfortunately, Tangerine pulls back. There’s blood on his lips and he looks concerned.
“Wait…” You mumble, trying to pull him back to you. He’s your lifeline now.
“You need a doctor, love.”
“Just a little longer.”
Tangerine chuckles, wrapping an arm around your back. “After you’re patched up. I promise.”
…Bonus…
“You’re going to ‘break into my house and wait for me to come home’?”
Tangerine groans, throwing his head back as you walk into the small office. Private clinics with ‘respectable’ doctors. Gotta love ‘em.
“Love, I didn’t mean it, I was in a life-or-death situation—I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking—”
You give a good-natured laugh, sitting next to him. You’d been patched up first, Tangerine was just waiting for some blood work to come back.
Tangling your fingers in his you give his hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m just teasing, Tan. I know.”
“Ok.” He sighs, giving your hand a squeeze back. “Good.”
You ruffle through your pockets to pull out your phone, your arm stings, but the pain medication the doc gave you does wonders. “I thought about it, I think you deserve to know why I was after your target.”
He looks at you with new interest now.
You tilt your screen to show him.
It had pictures of you and Tangerine. Pictures of you sitting together at lunch, laughing. Pictures of you walking down the street together, arm in arm. Pictures of you looking like a couple.
“Oh,” he breathes out, “I see.”
“I was worried you’d be put in danger if these…well, if they got into the wrong hands.”
“Didn’t want our clients to think we were softies either, huh?”
“That too.”
He presses his face into your hair. He hasn’t expressed his feelings for you again, but you’re starting to realize he always had—just through actions instead. A gentle hand on the small of your back. Wrapping an arm around your waist. Leaning down to speak softly into your ear.
These were just as much of an expression as words.
“Will we have to do this every time?” he asks, voice muffled slightly.
“Every time what?”
“It’s only a matter of time before more pictures of us make it into someone’s hands.”
“Oh. That’s a good point.”
He pulls you a little closer. “I’ll be dammed if I have to stop taking you out over that.”
“Then I guess we’ll just have to kill whoever tries something like that again.”
“We’ll do it together next time, yeah?”
“Absolutely.”
59 notes · View notes
writingsfromhome · 2 days
Text
Echoes of the Night we Met
Request: Would you consider writing something based on one of these songs? „I’m not yours” Angus & Julia Stone or „The night we met” Lord Huron
A/N: I took Lord Huron’s song as a looooose inspo and just went with what came…hope it came out ok. Feel free to request any others :)
————————————————
Harry:
I've been searching for a trail to follow again.
I move my can from one hand to the other, the drink dangling from the bridge railing. Along the railing flakes of green paint give way to pockets of rust. I try not to read too much into that. Instead I focus on the soothing quality of the river below, always moving forward, always soldiering on.
YN liked coming here to think a lot when we were kids. That’s how I first noticed her, the girl with the curtain of hair hiding her face from passerbys. She’s look down into the river like it was whispering ancient words to her, mesmerized and connected. I wonder what she thought about all the time.
One day I asked. I remember the first night we met. It was just after 8, the sun was just about done setting. Summer was slipping away from us and we were both facing the start of a new school year.
“Hi,” I’d started off rough. She’d barely even glanced up. “Penny for your thoughts?”
That had gotten her attention. She had looked up through wisps of her hair and then turned to me fully. I didn’t know if she knew who I was. We’d grown up in the same neighbourhood all our lives but she didn’t go to the same public school I went to.
“A penny used to be worth a lot more,” she had said and I remember her brows raised slightly like she was surprised at what came out of her mouth.
“What?” I’d laughed, charmed by this awkward girl.
She shook her head, a shy smile brightening her face despite the oncoming dark. “A penny used to be like a lot more money so that phrase meant our thoughts were just as valuable. But now a penny barely means anything so…what does that say about thoughts in the 21st century.”
She was a nerd, and somehow the revelation of that made me like her even more.
“Can I summarize that answer in 140 characters? My thoughts are in tweets.” I tried to joke.
She snorted and covered her face. “That was kinda lame.”
“You laughed,” I had pointed out. “Plus you’re the one who just met me and delivered a lecture on-
“I get it,” she cut me off. “I was just caught off guard.”
“Do you usually deliver facts when you’re caught off guard?” I decided to join her, overlooking the water. Our elbows had stay a foot apart.
“Yes,” she said with humour.
“So if an intruder came into your house-“
“I would disarm them with a fact.”
It had take me a second to get the joke before I laughed. She had hid hers behind her hand.
“You have a nice smile,” I told her.
“Oh.” She had grow serious and avoided my gaze, staring out at the river.
“You can take the compliment.”
“I know,” she cleared her throat. “Thanks.”
“I’m Harry,” I finally introduced myself.
“I know.” She said again. “You volunteered at the community centre earlier this summer. The reading club?”
“Were you there?” I thought I would remember a face like hers.
“Not for that,” she had left it at that.
“What year are you in?” I had asked.
We began to talk and she began to relax. Slowly she faced me again, answered my questions and laughed at my jokes. I felt on top of the world. We barely register how dark it had gotten, the lights in the part casting us in shadows.
My breath catches in my throat as the memories wash over me as they usually did. It was torture, coming here to this bridge after a few weeks.
Y/N moved on. Moved out of this town and made a life out of travelling. I stayed and made a life here. On my bitterest nights I have to avoid thinking that I was left behind.
Not that it was her fault. We were both to blame how the relationship ended. But I didn’t understand why it still affected me this much a decade later.
I wish I had one night with her. Or go back to the night we met. If I could go back I’d tell myself what I should’ve done when I had her. And if that doesn’t work, then save myself the heartbreak and advise not to ride along.
Is it better to love and be left behind or never to have loved at all, the age old question circles my mind as it always did when I fell into this particular pit of despair.
10 fucking years. When was I going to get over her. I try to shut out the painful images that always came.
The softness of her, how loud her laugh could be despite her shy smile. The way she smelled when I nestled my face in the specific spot on her neck. Her eyes, the ones that I watched growing wearier throughout our relationship.
I replay our final moments together, the blow of every word that should’ve been left unsaid, the pain of tallying every unkept promise—the biggest being staying together, forever. Everything suffocates me.
I thought I could live a life without her but she lingered like a ghost with nowhere to pass over. Even if I managed to get over her, move on, she was like a thread that ran through me; a constant memory.
I’m snapped out of my thoughts as the bridge creaks with the weight of another person. I look up at the approaching figure and my chest squeezes tight at what I see. Who I see.
You:
The bridge stood as a silent witness to the passage of time, once gleaming in its steel it had been oxidized by rain and snow, worn down by wind and ice. Its timeworn pieces clang with every footstep that’s ever walked across, the secrets whispered by the rushing river below staying hidden from passerbys.
I listened to the secrets. As a teen this is where I came to get away from the small bungalow I lived in with my 3 siblings and parents. This is what kept me sane when times got tough at home, always leaning over the edge and letting the rushing of the river below whisper that things would get better.
It’s where I met Harry. Both of us naïve and 16. I wonder if he heard the same secrets I did.
For years, the bridge held our memories, preserving the echoes of a night long past. Just like this bridge we’d been worn down and away. Life circumstances, time, and heartbreak.
The air crackles as I step onto the surface of the bridge. He’s there, his perfect silhouette embodying the shadow of how I remembered us. How had so much time passed?
In the stillness of the night I walk towards him and hope I wasn’t making another mistake.
Harry:
Even in the dim light she was as beautiful as the first day I met her. Her hair was shorter, straightened and lighter than I remember.
“YN?” I had to be hallucinating.
“Harry, hey.” Her voice bristles slightly. That’s how I know she’s actually here, and not a part of my imagination.
“How…”
“My brother,” she goes to lean on the bridge rail but changes her mind last minute, wrapping her arm around her waist instead.
YN’s brother and I had become friends—which was weird since he was always YN’s younger brother. But he got a teaching job at the same school a few years back and he had remembered me. We got along well.
I had just left the pub with her brother. But what was she doing here? In town?
“You’re in town.” I state lamely.
“Yeah,” she turns away, out to the river. “Helping my parents with something.”
Her parents were selling their childhood home, I knew that from her brother. I wonder if she knows I know.
“It’s good to see you,” I say the obvious but truthful statement.
“Yeah,” she glances at me. “How are you?”
Now I look away, unsure how to answer. “Good. You?”
“Fine,” she says with a wry smile. We knew the other way lying.
“Really?”
“I’m here in this godforsaken town so yeah, great.”
It’s the first cut tonight; apparently being here was rock bottom for her.
“Still no room for second chances hey?”
She doesn’t respond but she stands taller. Annoyed—I could tell from her body language.
“Same old y/n,” I whisper under my breath. Fuck. I didn’t want to slip back into this version of me but I wasn’t expecting such a biting cold from this woman. I thought we could be pleasant before descending into old habits.
“Same old Harry.” She cocks a brow. “I shouldn’t have come here.”
“Y/N,” I sigh. I used to have all of her. I had to be better. “I’m sorry.”
Her mouth makes an ‘o’ and her eyes soften. She doesn’t say anything.
“I’m sorry,” I say again, hoping she somehow understands I meant it about more than just now. “I don’t understand why you’re here though. I was just thinking about…”
“I was in town. I was here earlier in the day actually. Hadn’t visited the bridge in a while, used to come here nearly every bloody day.”
“I know,” I chuckle. She was attached to it.
“My brother mentioned you when he got back from the pub. Said something about you being in your sad hour—you liked going to this park during it. He probably doesn’t know why but…”
“But then why come? Knowing I’m here?”
She shrugs, her hands coming up only to fall hard at her sides. “I don’t know Harry. I didn’t realize I’d come here to get the second-degree.”
“I was thinking about you.” I will her to look at me, it aches to look at her. She looks older in the same way I probably did to her. More mature. She looks beautiful. And so far away. “About us. I know it’s been a decade but some night I can’t get us out of my head. I did so many wrong things Y/N. I swear I’d do anything just to go back to the night we met. Before I had all of you.”
She sucks in a breath. Still doesn’t look at me.
I touch her elbow, plead inside my head for her to look my way.
“I needed you to be angry or apathetic. I thought I’d come here and see you never changed, and feel better about leaving us. Leaving this town.”
She finally looks at me, her eyes fill with tears and I feel myself crumble. I don’t know how I was going to wake up tomorrow morning after seeing her face like this. I couldn’t let her go. Somehow fate brought us back here.
You:
The night we first met, I had been stewing in anger staring at the rushing river and trying to stay out as late as possible. I didn’t want to go home. To my reality.
Dad had lost his job earlier this year and his new job paid less. They were pulling my brothers and I out of private school and into public. I had cried and begged—I had a year left couldn’t I just finish it off?
But they had been resolute. And I had been angry and heartbroken.
Until Harry had approached me. I knew him from seeing him around the neighbourhood. I was relieved when he said he didn’t notice me at the community centre where my brothers and I sometimes went for their free breakfasts. It had been a real struggle that year.
I had noticed him, he was really attractive and confident, but he’d also been really sweet with the people he was volunteering with. Especially the kids.
I guess he would be at my new school. Maybe I’d make a friend in him.
I hadn’t expected to fall for him after exchanging a few words. He hadn’t been weirded out by my awkward small talk or moody vibe. He had just talked to me, asked me questions about myself, and we’d laughed a lot. That’s what I remember.
But five years of friendship to lovers came to an explosive end. For ten years I ran away. Tonight I return to the night we met.
I wanted to stay on my high horse, absolutely sure that I made the right decision not forgiving him and moving away.
Now I don’t know anything.
Mom and dad were selling my childhood home, any ties I had to this place were unravelling, and now even the person I needed to stay the villain was apologizing.
“You travel a lot,” Harry touches my elbow lightly. I know he’s not ignoring what I said, just giving me a way to talk around it until I can talk through it. I forgot the little ways he could be kind. It tears a hole right through me.
“Yeah,” I had started working for a travel magazine a decade ago and then made it my own brand on social media. I got paid to travel which was a dream. And yet, it always carried an emptiness—like I was running away from a debt I never paid. “Do what you love right?”
“Yeah.” Harry had gone into teaching, he’d stayed in town, born and raised. It had surprised me finding out. “I can’t say I love teaching, but it gets me up in the morning.”
“I heard the kids adore you,” my brother had kept me updated on Harry when I asked. I think my brother loved him too—he definitely idolized him.
“Sometimes,” he smiles like he’s embarrassed but I know he’s not.
“It’s been ten years,” I whisper. Why was he still not over us? Why did it make me feel awful.
“I think I felt every year,” he says.
Me too.
“Wish I could rewind, go back to the night we met.” He says.
“So you could warn yourself?” I half tease.
“No. Y/n,” he rolls his eyes. “Just to remember what it felt like to-to…not have to worry about a million decisions, not have to worry about money and what’s for dinner and whether your car’s about to kick the bucket or whether you’ve got a serious vitamin c deficiency or it’s depression. Just…just to go back and remember what it felt like to…meet a cute girl in the park and wonder what she’s thinking about.”
“That cute girl was angry,” I remind him.
That had come out later, as we talked into the night. In the cloak of darkness when he’d expressed surprise that I was enrolling in his school and I had said some bitter response, he’s prodded in all the soft spots. Before I knew it I was crying in front of the very attractive guy. It was humiliating.
But he’d surprised me, with a gentle hand on my arm—a question that I’d responded with by tucking myself into his arms. It was weirdly not weird.
“I remember.”
“The girl’s still pretty angry,” I say quietly.
My mum and dad were selling the home. The place I thought I’d always get to call home no matter how many countries I went to and how many beds I slept in. I always thought the room down the hall would always be mine.
“Want to talk about it?” Harry asks.
“How?” I look at him. “How can you want to stand here and listen to me be angry? After everything.”
Harry sighs. It’s loaded. “Y/N I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. Ten bloody years have gone by, many relationships and so many fucking new memories and yet I’m still haunted by the ghost of you. And I push it away and pretend I’m okay. But I’m not.”
“We were both so angry at the end,” I ignore everything he just said to say something else. Or maybe to respond to him basically confessing that he missed me. I was scared.
“I tried to make you something you weren’t,” Harry admits and hearing him say it out loud even ten years later burns. Like the flaking paint on this forsaken bridge, I’m rusty on the inside.
“And I was angry at the world but I took it out on you.” I reply with the same vulnerability. He deserved it after I came here wearing body armour.
He moves an inch closer to me and my body feels like it leans in like an automatic response.
“Why did you run so far?” He asks, it’s barely a whisper.
I feel the tears threatening to pour out but I hold them back. “Why didn’t you come looking for me?”
“I was mad,” his hand reaches out but before it can brush mine it drops. My heart drops with it. “And then I thought we were better apart. But really I was just scared.”
“Scared?” I was too.
“I had all of you and then most of you, some of you and then none of you. I didn’t think it could go the other way.”
It couldn’t. I think about the ring in my pocket, the one I took off when I left my parents’ front door to walk here.
It was a 3 year relationship begging to take the first step. When the proposal came I had cried with tears of joy.
“I don’t think it can,” I say and I feel a tear slide down my cheek. I rub it away.
He nods in defeat. “I just wanted to talk to you. Say sorry and be sure there’s nothing to go back to.”
“The way I treated you I…I wish I did things differently Harry. And I’m sorry. But I think there’s too much between us to go back to.”
“Yeah well,” he scratches the back of his head. “At least I know now.”
I want to take his face in my hands and kiss him, feel his familiar hands work down my body and hold me close. I wanted all of him, or some of him. I couldn’t. I could only have none of him.
Harry:
It hurts, being rejected. But now I know.
“Thank you YN,” I say honestly.
“For what?” She brushes away another tear. I wish I could do that for her.
“Coming here tonight? Closure?”
“Thanks for showing me people change,” YN says after some silence, her voice breaks half-way and she turns away.
Something else I’d be haunted by.
“Y/N,” I tug her arm and she unspools in my arms. She fits exactly as I remember, a whirlwind of emotions threaten to overwhelm me as her scent fills my head. She felt like a dream, slipping away while I still held her.
Still, I hold on tight, desperate to replace every y/n-related ache with this feeling right here. But just like sand in my fingers, it’s impossible to cling onto.
Y/N pulls away slowly and I feel like the river’s gathered up a big enough tide to swallow me whole. I want her to stay, to give me another chance, to put aside our history and see who we were now.
But I stay silent, the words caught in my throat and held back; she’d just reject me again. As much as I needed to, we couldn’t go back.
“I think I should go,” she whispers. I should ask her to stay, to maybe get breakfast tomorrow, to see her one last time.
Instead I nod, I just fucking nod.
She turns and every step she takes there’s a part of me that leaves with her.
When I can no longer see her I turn back to the river and cry one of my own.
I wasn’t haunted by the ghost of her, but by the ghost of what could’ve been. The echoes of the night we met bounce off the walls of my head and I scream into the night. It feels good, but the shadow of us stays in the farthest corner of my heart.
“It’s no fair,” I whisper to the river.
The river streams on, a low shushing sound muffled by the night.
Maybe, I think, Y/N would visit here once more—maybe soon. Maybe she’d look down into the water like she always did and when she listened for the river’s secrets, maybe it would tell her mine.
“I still love her,” I confess to the river.
But the river only moves forward.
23 notes · View notes
ushiwaakas · 9 hours
Note
Heyyy , how’s your day?? I was wondering if you could do ushijima and reader at the gym, reader is new to exercising and doesn’t know how to use equipment so ushijima helps them
hiiiiii !!!!!!!! my day is going good, i hope yours is too!!!!
AND AHHHH THIS REQUEST IS SO CUTEEEE
my first request !!!! i’ll be doing gender neutral reader!!! thank you so much!
Tumblr media
☘︎ you’ve known ushijima for a while now, i mean, who doesn’t? being his desk mate, especially, you see him. him doing his schoolwork, him watching volleyball clips, him in general…
☘︎ okay he is a sight HAHA
☘︎ he obviously works out, duh, come on have you seen him???????? ‘cause…YOU'VE HAVE!!!1!1
☘︎ but, anyways, ever since you two worked on a school project together, you’ve been getting closer and closer.
☘︎ as friends of course haha!!!
☘︎ today was like any other day, you come in class, he’s already sat down in his seat, getting whatever he needs ready for class he just has a pencil lmao
☘︎ “good morning !” you said, as you sat down. you gave him a tiny smile, before putting your bag down under your desk.
☘︎ “Good morning. How’s your day?” he turned to look at you,
☘︎ you tell him good, asking about his day as you took out your pencil case. other kids were coming into class. it’s your last class of the day, finally.
☘︎ “Good, thanks. I wanted to ask, my friend, Tendou, usually comes to the gym with me on Fridays, since we have no volleyball practice. But, he’s sick. Would you like to come?”
☘︎…
☘︎ AHHHHHHH
☘︎ you squeaked out a ‘yes’ and it was done. you’re going to the gym with the ushijima wakatoshi.
☘︎ it happened so fast, school ending, you racing home to put on gym clothes, and getting basic necessities. and bam! you’re standing next to him, walking inside. you didn’t know whether to thank god, or to beg him for strength at this moment.
☘︎ ushijima was in some shorts, gym shoes, and a TANK TOP AHHHHH
☘︎ he had toned muscles.
☘︎ “It’s hot out today. Let’s go inside.” he waited for you to walk next to him.
☘︎..it was a little embarrassing, following him around like a lost puppy.
☘︎ at that moment, you realized- you have no clue how to use a gym. you’ve never been to one, or working out in general.
☘︎ yep, you were asking for strength, hope, and forgiveness.
☘︎ “Which machine would you like to use first?” he said, turning to look at you.
☘︎ AH he spoke to you AHHH
☘︎ you were blanking, oh god oh god.
☘︎ “What are you looking to do? High reps at a low weight, or vice versa? Or cardio?”
☘︎ ohgodohgod.
☘︎ “…cardio…?” nice going…
☘︎ he nodded, walking over to the treadmills, cycling machines, and the stair stepper machines.
☘︎ “…would it be okay to say i’ve never stepped foot in a gym before?” just get it out he won’t judge hewon’tjudge.
☘︎ “Of course. I can explain for you, if you’d like, or help you use it.” he spoke, not a hint of annoyance on his face.
☘︎ the giddiness in your body was radiating.
☘︎ you nodded, thanking him, before he stepped onto the treadmill. you followed, going on the one next to him.
☘︎ there were a ton of buttons. you looked over to him, giving him a look that said ‘please help’.
☘︎ he quickly came to your rescue, turning to look right at you.
☘︎ “Treadmills help with cardio. Most have similar settings, and some may have controls to monitor your heart rate. Press this button here to turn it on, and I can help you set the speed. You can go at whatever pace you’d like.”
☘︎ back to thanking god.
☘︎ you smiled at him, as he leaned over to turn on the treadmill. it was at a low walking pace. he went back to his own treadmill, and he turned his on. he began to press the buttons.
☘︎ HE TURNED HIS UP TO A 12???
☘︎…he put you at a 3.
☘︎ you looked over to him. he had perfect posture, perfect form, and he looked really good.
☘︎ you slowly put yours up at a light jog, the corner of your eye looking at him.
☘︎ HE WAS ALREADY LOOKING AT YOU AHHHHHH
☘︎ “Are you okay?” he said, not even breaking a sweat.
☘︎ taken aback, you quickly nodded, smiling at him. he turned and went to look straight ahead.
☘︎ you stopped after a little while- and you were so embarrassed.
☘︎ you were hot, sweating, hands-on-hips-position, and drinking your water.
☘︎ he was not phased.
☘︎ “We can work on the kettlebells if you’re alright with that. I can help you again. Form is especially important.”
☘︎ hehehehehehehe he’s going to help with your fooooormmmmmm!!!!!
☘︎ he led you over to the kettlebells, and got out a 5 pound. he took two 25 pounds for him…
☘︎ “Let’s start easy. Form is important, so let’s start with swings. Swing the kettlebell between your legs, and make sure to tighten your midsection. Once the kettlebell reaches hip height, squeeze your glutes and extend your arms to the ceiling.”
☘︎ yeah that went in one ear and out the other… his voice was so deep.
☘︎ he saw your puzzled expression, “I can help straighten your back as you do so, guiding you through it, if that’s okay.”
☘︎ YESYES THATS OKAY.
☘︎ “of course, thank you!” you smiled.
☘︎ he came over, and handed you a 5 pound weight. he stood behind you, close.
☘︎ “Can I put my hands on your back?”
☘︎ as he got a quick answer, he did so, his left hand on your back, and the other on your shoulder, straightening your back.
☘︎ “Okay. Go ahead.”
☘︎ he led you through it, helping you with tips as he still had his hands on you. after a couple reps, you put the kettlebell down, before looking at him.
☘︎ he still had his hands on you
☘︎ “I apologize.” ushijima quietly said, as he took his hands off.
☘︎ he bit his cheek, and looked away for a moment, before looking back at you.
☘︎ “Would you like to learn how to spot someone?”
☘︎ he seemed at ease, a more happier expression, if you really looked
☘︎ this was going to be a long day, but you wouldn’t want to be with any other person besides him.
Tumblr media
AHHHHHH OKAYOKAY i really hope this is good! i’ve never written any headcanons, drabbles, onceshots, etc before, so i hope this is good! i didn’t want this to be too long,…i might’ve overdid it a bit….sorry!!!!!
in the future, i want to get more of the character’s expressions and how they feel, compared the reader! i would love to work on that!
also i love ushijima so much i really hope i portrayed him well! he’s a little difficult to write for, but ill get the hang of it!
i hope everyone likes this, and thank you @jellysupremacy for the request! i hope you like it!!! i had a good time writing it!!!! 💗💗💗💐💐
i wrote like crazy i think i did it in an hour this was so fun
20 notes · View notes
luveline · 2 months
Note
hiiiiiiiii jade! <3
would you be willing to write a fic about girl dad!spencer x bombshell!reader? i can only imagine what an adorable riot their daughter would be!!!
tysm!
ty for requesting!! mom!reader
Spencer always thought you were too beautiful for him. Too funny, too brave, too confident. For years he feared he’d never be anyone you could love; he was the opposite of all your best parts, he talked too much about the wrong things, he went red whenever you so much as looked at him, and he couldn’t flirt back, not for anything. 
But it’s been a very long time since he felt that way. What good is a father who doesn’t believe in being yourself? Amanda deserved to be loved from the moment she drew breath, and he shouldn’t have been any different. 
Now, though, he’s wondering if he shouldn’t be so accepting of all her whims. “I am not wearing that, daddy,” she says. 
She’s just old enough to put together sentences but young enough that the individual words sound like building blocks, chunky and clumsy on her little mouth. Her lips are yours, her smiles and frowns one hundred percent you. (Though you argue with him often that the quizzical pout she does is all his.)
“What do you mean, angel?” he asks, bent over her sock drawer looking for a matching pair. 
“This is pink, and this is purple.” She points. 
“Yes, and you like pink and purple!” 
“I like pink… and I like purple,” she says. 
“But not together?” he asks knowingly. “You want them at different times, is that it?” 
She runs for his legs, hugging them tightly. “Thank you.” 
“You’re so much like your mommy it’s scary,” he whispers playfully, leaning down to pat her small back. “Okay, angel. I’ll find you a different dress to wear. Or maybe the dungarees!”
She lifts her chin up to smile at him. “Y’okay.” 
“Spencer, Amy!” you call, voice carrying from the kitchen. “Are you guys ready? We have to go soon and you haven’t even eaten!” 
Spencer used to sit at his desk daydreaming about you. He’d drink five cups of tea a day to get to walk past you for the kitchenette, hoping you’d be making a coffee, that you’d flirt with him over corporate rewarded donuts. Now you’re making him breakfast as he persuades your daughter into jelly shoes because she wants tall shoes like mommy. They compromise —Any will wear the wrong shoes if Spencer agrees to carry her to the kitchen table. 
“Sorry,” Spencer says as he pushes open the door into the kitchen. He's trying to be the best dad he can be all the time, but he doesn’t have a knack for the mornings like you do. “We won’t be late.” 
“That depends on how agreeable my lovely girl is feeling today.” You pick up the pink plastic plate you’ve filled with eggs, toast, and a mix of washed berries. “What do you think, Amy? Looks nummy?”
“Chocolate chip?” she asks, eyes already widening. 
“It’s breakfast, honey,” you say, scooping her out of Spencer’s arm to carry her to the table. “Chocolate chips are for dinner.” 
“Please?”
“If you promise to be really super duper good at Uncle Derek’s, then yes, you can have some chocolate chips,” you say, tucking her chair in, and kissing her chubby cheek. “You want me to make you milk or juice, mm?”
Spencer spots the two plates you’ve made up for you and him on the counter and quickly brings them to the table, sliding yours in front of you with a long-pronged fork, his hand on your shoulder to keep you in your seat. “I’ll get it,” he says, ducking down to kiss you on the side of the mouth. 
You turn to Amy. “See that, sweetheart? See how nice and kind your daddy is to me? He’s soooo nice. This is why we love him so much, and we appreciate him so much.” 
Amy nods emphatically, blueberries tumbling off of her plastic fork. “So much,” she echoes, her voice like melting sugar. 
He has a weird moment by the fridge where he has to grip the handle. “You know I used to dream about making you a cup of coffee in the mornings?” he asks. 
“Spencer, come over here and kiss me again, please,” you say, sympathetic and fond.
“Me too!” Amy says through fruit. “Me first.” 
“Oh, gosh, this is one of the hardest decisions of my life,” he says, sweeping in to dot your cheeks with kisses, hers then yours, three apiece.
1K notes · View notes
bimbobaggins69 · 3 months
Text
Game over
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
best friend gamer boy e.m.
blurb request: congrats on 5k my angel 🥺 you deserve it. 🍒 but i was hoping to request a little blurbie with best friend gamer eddie (your gamer eddie series was so good I love him) and we’re just tired of him playing his game while we’re over so we find a way to distract him 🤭 (or whatever else your sexy brain comes up with tbh hehe) by @reidsbtch
authors note: thank you so so much baby girl, I love you and hope you like this smutty little treat <3
picture credit: @eddiemunsons-missingnipple
18+ mdni contains smut
Tumblr media
“C’mon Ed’s, I came over to hang out, not watch you play your dumb games.” You huff out as you cross your arms over your chest in irritation.
“I said one more round!” Eddie shouts as he gets his ass kicked in some fantasy game you couldn’t bother remembering the name of.
“You said one more round, five rounds ago!” You growl as your head falls back against the couch.
“Jesus, would you shut up and let me concentrate.” Your best friend grumbles as his spread legs part even further, causing your eyes to fall on his lap and the very prominent imprint of his dick that could be seen through the blue Jean fabric.
the extent of ever seeing Eddie’s little friend okay scratch that big friend from what you could tell, was the few times you swam in lovers lake together and he wore his plaid boxers that had a big enough hole to fit your entire hand into. It had poked out a few times and to be honest, well you’ll give him the benefit of the doubt because it was extremely cold that day. But, sitting here and looking at his dick print has you reevaluating everything you have assumed about your best friend’s junk thus far.
“You really want me to shut up?” You ask with husky flirtation, a smirk taking over your face as an idea hits you. It could only go one of two ways, either eddie would tell you to get the fuck off of him or he’ll welcome it, tell you to keep going, don’t stop. The possibility of hearing those words leave your best friend’s lips outweighed the negative.
“Mhm, I need you real quiet right now, princess. See I’m trying to kills those fuckin’ gu— w-what are you doing?” He stammers, taking his eyes off the screen for the first time since you walked into his trailer. You had moved quick, making yourself comfortable between his spread legs.
Your knees dig into the rough carpet as you look up at him, his big glossy eyes as wide as saucers.
“Well what does it look like I’m doing, silly? If you need me to be quiet, I’m gonna need something to fill my mouth up with.” You send him a sweet smile before rubbing your face over the imprint in his jeans.
“Hol- uh, um, fuck. You wanna um, put my dick in your mouth? Is—is that what you’re asking me right now?” He chokes on his words as his game awaits, long forgotten as the words “game over” flash across the screen.
“Yes, eddie I’m asking you to put my mouth to good use.” You breathe through your nose as your impatience grows, while you continue to rub your face on his bulge, feeling it twitch with want underneath you.
“Okay, I’m sorry I have to just ask one more time. You wanna suck my dick?” He asks again in bewilderment, his eyebrows furrow as if he’s holding back from doing exactly what he really wants, he has to be sure that this isn’t some fucked up joke.
“If you don’t pull your cock out in five seconds, I’m leaving.” You say as a stoic look falls onto your face, and you back away from his center, putting way too much space between you both for Eddie’s liking.
“Okay, okay. Fuck, I’m going.” He huffs with half exasperation and half excitement.
“There’s a good boy.” You purr, moving your face back towards his dick. You begin licking his growing cock through the fabric, getting it nice and wet before spitting on it, your saliva darkening his jeans from light to dark blue as you begin to spread the wetness around in circles with your middle finger, over what you assume to be his tip.
Eddie shudders as he pulls his zipper down, the way you’re practically sucking him through his jeans feels fucking phenomenal already, and the good boy has him feeling so needy.
He finally wrestles with his jeans and boxers, quickly thrusting his hips up once you’ve moved away, allowing him to pull them down. He lets his full balls plop out over the fabric. His hard cock is now exposed to the open air of his trailer and his balls sit there all big, mouth watering and tempting as hell.
“Oh my god!” You exclaim with wide eyes, they cross as you take in the way it stands straight up, his pink tip glistening while a large purple vein runs along his shaft. You wanna follow it with the tip of your tongue, so you do.
“Hnng, oh fuck!” Eddie groans, already feeling too close to the edge.
“You’re so big ed’s.” You say as you stroke his ego and his cock at the same time.
“Am I?” He asks, but there’s no real question behind it.
You take the tip of his cock in your mouth, sucking off all the precum and moaning when it coats your tongue.
You work him down inch by inch, eventually reaching your throat but to Eddie’s surprise you don’t gag, not one bit and he just knows he’s in for a wild ride.
“Go ahead eddie, play your game while my mouths occupied. Ya’ know, so you can concentrate?” You giggle deviously, knowing there’s no way in hell he’ll be able to pay attention to anything other than you.
1K notes · View notes
swe3tte4rs · 3 months
Text
" My mom is so beatiful! " - Batfamily x Model!Batmom headcanons
Request: Batmom headcanons where batmom’s a model & the coolest mom ever?
Author's note: Thank you anon 🫶! Here is my second request, so I hope you like it. I didn't know what to put for the title so I settled for this one.
And it will also take me a while to upload the Zatanna x reader oneshot 🤗.
Again I clarify that my main language is not English, so sorry for the spelling errors 😿.
TW: nothing!! Just fluff I think
Tumblr media
Nightwing / Dick Grayson
Since he met you, he was fascinated with your beauty and elegance.
He loved when you went to galas and you wrapped him up in your long elegant jacket while you picked him up in your arms and let him fall asleep like that.
Dick didn't miss any of your shows or commercials.
I bet he has your older shows saved on his computer.
A model and cool mother at the same time? Wow, Dick couldn't ask for more.
You are his only support, the only one who was there and loved him no matter what.
Dick will always ask your opinion about what he wears or what haircut he will get.
He goes crazy every time he hears someone say "Your mom is hot."
"It's not my fault that my mom loves me and yours didn't love you, fucking slu-"
I feels like he would play with you by imitating your walk just to annoy you.
Always showing off his mother, yesyesyes.
The YJ and Titans members would be very jealous of him; because you treat him very nicely and send him food, without saying that you drown your son with love.
Jason Todd / Red Hood
When he was Robin he was dwarf and plump. I and other people agree 😇
Jason loves the support you give him and keep giving him.
And he also loves your delicious food, he probably asks you to prepare some for him every time he goes out on patrol.
I just imagined him (when he was Robin) bringing you a bouquet of flowers bigger than him once you finish the show, seeing you with those beautiful and big eyes 😭
I bet he sometimes got scared when he saw your face on a commercial billboard.
And he keeps doing it, only he spits out whatever he's drinking when he sees you in TV. (Without him knowing that you participated as a model in X brand)
He loves and continues to love your attacks of kisses on his face.
Yes, he would also ask you for style advice, but only once a year, he is very proud when it comes to his clothing style.
"YOU SON OF A BITCH!! HOW DARE YOU HAVE A FUCKING POSTER OF MY MOM?!?!"
Damn Jason, your mom is a model, what do you want them to do?
Tim Drake / Red Robin
He has a love-hate relationship with your love attacks.
Tim, like his other siblings, would not miss any of your shows, or the parts in which you appear.
He would help Barbara to make sure no one wants to sabotage you at one of your shows.
If given the choice between your food or the support you give him, Tim would jump off a bridge. (jk)
"Bro, can you shut the fuck up and stop saying how beautiful my mom is? I already know that."
Tim gets embarrassed every time he is with his friends and you call him (by phone XD), because you start reminding him that he is very handsome and he need to eat something. But it irritates him more when his colleagues ask to talk to you.
Damian Wayne / Robin
I think he wouldn't care about your job
He's like, the most attached to you.
After your shows he would be attached to you like a flea.
Also at the galas.
Damian was surprised that you were so kind and loving towards him despite the things he said to you before him had that mother and son connection.
I think we all know that there is some kind of hate between you and Talia, no 🥸?
Oh yes, he wouldn't care about your love attacks, as long as it's not in front of his friends.
"Yes mom, yes I ate the food... Yes, I know you love me. *sighs* I love you too mommy..."
You're like Jon's second mom.
His favorite days are pool or beach days, he likes to enjoy the sea while spending time with his mom.
Cassandra Cain / Orphan
Cass is the vice president of your fan club.
Cass loves you infinitely.
She has an album full of photos of you and her after the shows.
She doesn't like the idea of you parading in swimsuits.
She would always ask you for clothing tips and advice.
Cass likes, loves, and admires having a mother who understands her and can be herself with her.
She wouldn't care if you show her love in public or private. She always gives you more love back!
Skincare routine between you and her.
You always make sure that she is fashionable but also has her own style.
She would have a lot of admiration for you.
I feel like she would hardly take any notice of "your mom is hot" because she thinks they are flattery.
But if they go overboard and insult you, Cass wouldn't hesitate to give them a good beating. Nobody messes with her mommy.
I think she would have you as her wallpaper. A photo of you and her on your birthday or on her birthday.
Stephanie Brown / Spoiler
She is the President of your fan club.
Throughout the parade she is like "how boring, I want to leave" until you finally appear, it doesn't matter if the outfit you wore is ugly, she would applaud you with all her might.
"WHY DID YOU AGREE TO DO A BIKINI COMMERCIAL?!?!"
I feel like she gets angry every time anyone tell her "she's super hot" (you), and Steph is like "the nosebleed I'm going to give you is going to be hot."
Every time she sleeps over at the mansion she joins you and Cass's skincare routines.
She loves you because every time you talk there is some laughter.
Steph appreciates and adores the support you give her as a mother figure.
You rarely have love attacks towards her.
But she adores them.
Every chance she would go shopping with you.
Duke thomas / The Signal
Just let me...
Duke is your photographer.
He had a hard time opening up to you at first, but you were just great and so sweet to him.
He doesn't react like his brothers do when they tell him "your mom is hot", rather he would feel uncomfortable.
Only if they insult you would he get serious.
He likes that you are always there to support him every time he goes out on patrol or comes back from patrol.
You and Duke's connection started when you tried to get him to distract himself from the harsh reality of his biological parents, like going to the park and all that.
He is embarrassed when you have your love attacks towards him. It doesn't matter if you are alone or in public, he will be embarrassed every time you have those love attacks.
I feel that when you go with him to buy clothes, you spend a lot of time because you can't decide what clothes to buy him.
But in the end you end up buying everything for him.
Barbara Gordon / Oracle
Yes, I added Barbara, okay?
In my AU there was no love affair between her and Bruce 😇
The one in charge of making sure everything goes well at the shows.
Sometimes she sees you as her mother, sister and best friend.
Barbara always sends you messages; according to her so as not to lose contact, which is a lie because you know it is purely on a whim.
I don't think you have love attacks with her, just a simple kiss on her cheek or forehead.
Although sometimes she envied the attention you gave to your children.
Barbara would value and care for you deeply.
Tumblr media
[You can add more headcanons if you like <3]
2K notes · View notes
churipu · 4 months
Note
Idk if u take requests rn, but if you do, could you write fluffy moments with jjk men (pls include toji, i rlly wanna see him w fluff because there is like none) you fav would be cuddling, but you do whatever you want <3 Also, don't stress yourself when writing i, and please take breaks <33
JJK MEN + FLUFFY MOMENTS (๑ > ᴗ < ๑)
Tumblr media
featuring. toji fushiguro, gojo satoru, nanami kento x reader
warnings. jjk men being softies
note. i just read the most heart wrenching nanami fic, i think i'm not okay at all </3 but hi anon, thank you for requesting this — this is exactly what i needed after reading angst. i apologize if it took a long time to get this out omg, i hope you like it.
and guys, omg???? 700+ followers? i genuinely never expected my works to be recognized by so much, and meeting new writers here and there, making friends, makes me so happy (i'm not crying) i love u all so so so so much, u guys rock, ily all <;33
Tumblr media
TOJI FUSHIGURO
hated talking about the future, but ever since he met you — he rambles about it.
toji has always thought his future was nothing interesting, he kills people for a living, gets money off of it and he gambles. that's about it, so what was there to think about in the future?
meeting you was the firsts to a lot of things in his life.
toji grew up in a loveless household full of anger, and lust for power. which is why he is who he is today. distant, aloof, detached. people tell him he'd be nothing without his strength and face, there is no denying that toji fushiguro has a face card. he knows that.
so when he first met you, all he expected was like every other day. people caring about his face, and only that — and he'd play along although he's had enough of it, but no; you didn't care about all that.
face, money, strength. none of that.
he vaguely remembered the first time you spoke to him: "hey, mind helping me grab that box of cereal?" and he expected you to hit on him after, but you left it at that, muttering out a thanks and then leaving him in the aisle alone.
then for some reason he meets you again, the very next month. asking him the exact same thing, asking for help to take the cereal box which happened to be on the very top of the shelf. god knows why, both you and him just made it a routine every month after that. no communications about meeting and all. you both kind of just, met right in the cereal aisle on one particular day in the month, and then leave.
on the fifth month, he finally asks for your number.
"toji, is that your way of asking me out? because if it is, i'm disappointed."
"maybe."
and then you both kind of just sealed it; you're dating. nothing much changed, every month both you and him still go to the cereal aisle — he still helps you with grabbing the box from the shelf. the only difference was that now the two of you leave together.
toji hates talking about his future. but with you? he could go on for a whole day. he rambles about what he thinks and what he wants in the future with you.
"i wan' to get married. i wan' to marry you," did it caught you by surprise? yes. yes it did, "i wan' to have a family with you, a nice little family. i wan' to have a son so i could throw him around — but a girl is okay too, i can protect her from boys, i'll love them both equally. but i don't think i'll be a good dad to them. i'm scared they won't like me."
"toji, what? where did that come from?"
his back was pressed to your chest as you both lay down on the bed, one of your leg draped over his torso and he has his hand on your plush thigh, squeezing it every once in a while.
"i don't know. just a thought, i never talked about my future with anyone before," his body vibrated as he grunted, leaning his head back a bit, "i just don't think i'll be a good father, y'know?" he squeezed your thigh.
"why do you think so?" you asked him, placing your chin on the crown of his head.
"i just think so."
"stop thinking then," you chuckles, draping an arm around his neck, caressing his throat so softly it made the male shudder under your touch — but he didn't mind, he took comfort under your skin.
"can't." his voice was not stern or bold, it was soft and serene. he laced his fingers with yours, kissing your knuckles gently, "i can't believe 'm saying this, but 'm worried about my future. 'm a little scared."
just the fact he was admitting that he's scared about something was mind boggling, because the toji fushiguro? who kills people? was admitting that he was actually terrified of something, which wasn't even the strongest sorcerer. it's his future.
you were silent, letting him talk because when else would he be able to be like this?
"'m terrified. 'm scared i won't make you happy. what if i don't make you happy? what if my kids hate me?" so many questions that you don't even have the answer to, but you placed your hand over his lips, shutting him up.
toji grumbled, he swiped his tongue over your palm.
"ew!" you laugh, wiping your hand on his shirt, "but why're you suddenly talking about this all? which videos have you been watching again?"
"nothing, can't i think about my own future with you?" he shuffles, turning to face you, prepping an arm under his head as he stares down at you. not in the condescending way — he stared at you with so much desperation for love, he slowly blinks, the glint in his eyes never changing.
"why out of the blue?"
"jus' because."
you poked his cheek, "liar."
he sighs, latching his hand onto your hips, pulling you close. he buries his head into your shoulder in content, "jus' worried about it, i never think about my future in the past. but now — with you, i jus' worry about it because i didn't think i'd make it 'till now."
you chuckled, rubbing the back of his head lightly, "you remember that one time in the park when you see that little boy crying over spilled ice cream?"
he hums softly.
"and you bought him another ice cream, but asked me to be the one to give it to him because you were scared you'd scare him off instead?" you ask him, your fingers tangling with his hair lightly.
"yeah."
"you'll be fine, toji." you tell him.
"y'think so?" he retorts back, squirming a bit.
"i know so."
GOJO SATORU
he has to know about everything that you like, he needs to know why you like them. every. single. thing.
gojo chased after you. you were one tough cookie, he likes a chase. he's so used to people fawning over his looks that when you didn't — he just has to know your name.
the curiosity to know your name ended up pulling him in a spiral of this little thing called "love". gojo swore it was just curiosity, but everyone else besides him thinks otherwise, he promised himself and people around that he didn't like you, he was just, well, curious.
but curiosity doesn't look like that. gojo finds himself asking people about what type of boys you like, and when he finds out about it — he tries his best to be your type. he promised he was just curious.
gojo tries finding out what your favorite flower is, and when he finds out about it, he's out there sending big bouquets of it to you. he promised he was just curious.
gojo tries finding out what your favorite genre of music is, and when he finds out, he listens to them so he could talk about it with you. he promised he was just curious.
gojo tries finding out what your favorite series or movie is, and when he finds out, he watches them all intently so he could talk about them with you and hate on characters together with you. and he still promises that he was just curious.
he was just curious, he kept telling that to himself. so why does it bother him when you were out with another guy? another guy that's not him. not gojo satoru.
gojo asks you about who it was, and when you tell him it's nobody important, he gets upset about it.
"why are you so upset?"
"i'm just..curious."
"it's none of your business."
he left it at that. his whole week was ruined, he couldn't stop thinking about it. about you. and then he finally realizes, he wasn't curious — he was in love. so there he was, in front of your door at two in the morning.
"what?"
"who was that guy?"
"gojo, you're still onto that?" you ask him, tired, "i said it's none of your business. you're here at two just to ask me about that?"
"it's my business because i'm in love with you, damn it!"
gojo was half grateful when you told him it was your distant cousin, but half embarrassed as well. all's well ends well. he gets you in the end, and he doesn't have to worry about anything else — nothing in the world matters to him but you.
"baby, what do you recommend?" was one of the most spoken phrases he has delivered to you.
in restaurants, dessert bars, convenience store, movie theaters, anything you could recommend him, he'd ask for it.
"why do you always ask? don't you have your own preference, satoru? i'm not even sure if you'll like my recommendations though," he smiles at you, tracing small circled on the back of your hand.
"i want to know about everything that you like, and why you like them. i want to know everything about you," you look at him and smiled, honestly, what did we ever do to deserve him?
"why?"
"because i love you." yeah, he wasn't just curious. he's in love. and deep.
NANAMI KENTO
he always orders food that you like, and shares some with you — even if you didn't ask for it.
nanami never expected to be in relationships. in fact, relationships was the last thing in his mind — but when he met you, he just kind of felt attracted. he seeks for your comfort whenever he's tired, and when you weren't there, nanami just sort of drowns in himself until he could see you or hear your voice.
at the beginning of your relationship, nanami was never the one to initiate things because he wasn't an experienced male in relationships. you ask him and he just sort of do it without any other complaints.
but as time goes on, he get the hang of it. what he should do and what he shouldn't — it's adorable, he's started doing things that he never thought he would do in his life, but here he was sitting by your side; peeling apples for you because you wanted them.
"kento, eat some. it's going to be finished by the time you finish peeling every one of them," you joked, your legs on top of his thighs.
nanami hums softly, "it's okay. as long as you like it."
nanami doesn't realize the weigh of his sweet words sometimes, he does it and asks himself to why you were reacting like that. sweet talk is his vocabulary. he says it with no worries, telling you things you've always wanted to hear but never say.
but one thing that always stuck to him and you from the first time you got close up to now was: nanami always orders things that you like. you never understood the reason behind it, and when you tried asking him about it, he just tells you he was craving it.
it didn't seem odd at first — but as time goes on, his whole taste was just an exact copy of yours.
if you get something different than your usual menu, nanami will get your usual menu because he knows damn well that you're going to end up wanting them. although you don't tell him when the food comes, nanami makes it his job to share with you. and that's really sweet of him.
but when you get your usual menu, nanami orders something with elements that you like in them and shares them with you even without you asking for a bite. and not only that, he didn't share a spoonful — he shared a lot.
"ken, you don't have to share with me. i have my own food." you tell him, despite your heart tugging you to just let him share because you were too shy to say that you wanted a bite.
"it's alright sweetheart. i'm a little full." he lies. he ends up snacking on something on midnight, and it's now a routine.
so in exchange for that, you always make it your job to stock up foods ranging from small snacks like biscuits, chips, up to instant or pre-heated food. even cutting up fruits so nanami could snack on it, and he caught on to it pretty quick.
but he didn't complain, he likes it when you do it.
"ken, i cut out some mangoes and dragon fruit. you can eat them if you're hungry."
"thank you y/n."
mutual wins.
Tumblr media
© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
1K notes · View notes
ssprayberrythings · 4 months
Text
our little secret | CL16
charles x female!reader / smau fic 
this was a request so thank you anon for providing the idea, i changed some of the detailing ever slightly to fit it more into the social media format but overall i followed the request so i hope i did it justice! 
as a bit of a background: you and charles have been together for a few years now, but nobody knows because they’ve kept their relationship secret from the f1 community and private from anyone who follows you. everything is going great until photos of you and charles on vacation get leaked. normally you’d deny it or ignore it but it was very obviously charles in the pictures which cause fans to go crazy, wanting to know everything ultimately resulting in you and charles deciding to go public and hoping for the best. oh and the request included having other drivers on the grid having gone through recent breakups which was another reason charles liked that your relationship was private. 
warnings: none, just pure fluff and charles being a simp for his girlfriend !! 
-
yourusername posted on their instagram   
Tumblr media
yourbestfriend, yoursister, user23 & others liked 
life recently ⭐️🫶🌸
view all comments 
user1: y/n i still cant believe we haven’t figured out who your partner is, its been atleast a couple years 
user2: at this point, i don’t even care who it is, as long as she’s happy 
yoursister: awe the flowers, he’s the sweetest 
╰ yourusername: i know ! 
user22: one day we’ll find out…i hope 
╰ user17: we can only hope 
yourbestfriend: i love that youre happy but i don’t enjoy third wheeling, does he have any single friends he can atleast bring along 🥲
╰ yourusername: sorry..pretty sure all his close friends are in relationships 🫣
charles_leclerc posted on their instagram 
Tumblr media
f1fan, pierregasly, landonorris, fanofleclerc & others liked 
who do i give these flowers too 
view all comments 
fanofleclerc: YOU CAN GIVE THEM TO ME 
f1fan: ILL TAKE THEM OFF YOUR HANDS CHARLES 
user30: how is this man single ???? he’s so boyfriendcoded 
landonorris: i’d prefer literally anything else but i guess you can give them to me 
╰ charles_leclerc: ill pass 
f1: we’ll take them for you charles, im sure someone in the paddock would like them 
-
yourusername posted on their story  
Tumblr media
caption: he loves me i swear..😉
*replies disabled*
charles_leclerc posted on their instagram 
Tumblr media
pierregasly, landonorris, f1, f1fan, charlesleclercfan_ & others liked 
enjoying the sun whenever i can 
view all comments 
fanofcharles: hes so beautiful wow 
charlesleclercfan_: imagine running into charles leclerc while he’s shirtless? id pass away
pierregasly: photo creds would be nice..
╰ charles_leclerc: you didn’t take the photo ? 
╰ pierregasly: yes but i was behind the camera offering support, its basically the same thing 
f1fan: pierre and charles’ friendship is top tier
╰ liked by f1
-
yourusername posted on their instagram   
Tumblr media
yoursister, yourbestfriend, user20 & others liked 
me and everyone’s favourite man hit the town 🍸
view all comments 
yourbestfriend: its giving old money, i love it 
╰ liked by yourusername 
user20: im sure whoever he is, is a gorgeous man 
user12: i may not know who he is but i aspire for these vibes 
yoursister: the hand placement is everything 
╰ liked by yourusername & yourbestfriend 
user44: whoever he is, he was raised right, that hand placement says everything and him holding y/n’s heels, god has favourites 
-
charles_leclerc posted on instagram 
Tumblr media
charlesleclercfan_, f1, f1fan, landonorris & others liked 
hikes at sunset > 
view all comments 
charlesleclercfan_: omg charles 
charlesleclercfan_: i think my heart just stopped 
f1fan: he knows what he’s doing, he has to 
user33: brb finding the strength cause this photo makes me weak 
user2: he looks so happy 
yourusername posted on their instagram   
Tumblr media
yourbestfriend, user22, user14, user7 & others liked 
my two favourite people 🫶
tagged: @yourbestfriend 
view all comments 
user2: mystery man once again
user14: the way they go on runs together 
yourbestfriend: the only time i’ll gladly be a third wheel..i love a good walk/run at sunset 
╰ yourusername: i know how much you love your sunset runs 
user12: couples that run together, stay together 
╰ liked by yourusername 
-
yourusername posted on their story  
Tumblr media
caption: my whole 🌎 
*replies disabled*
-
yourbestfriend posted on their story
Tumblr media
caption: i once again find myself third wheeling..@yourusername
╰ yourusername: atleast you could walk away when you wanted..
╰ yourbestfriend: not the point..but tell charles thank you for paying for me aswell
╰ yourusername: will do 😅
charles_leclerc posted on their story
Tumblr media
caption: enjoying some local art before racing starts again  
*replies disabled* 
-
yourusername posted on their instagram  
Tumblr media
yoursister, yourbestfriend, user3, user15 & others liked 
gonna miss watching the sunrise in the morning and the sunset in the evening with you 🥺
view all comments 
user3: wait where is he going 
user23: awe, i hope everything’s okay and they haven’t broken up
╰ user4: i think mystery man has to leave, but they’re still together 
yourbestfriend: mom and dad..fr 
╰ liked by yourusername 
user44: wherever mystery man has to go, i hope he comes back soon 
“Merci mon amour” You smiled as he situated himself next to you in bed. Having been dating now for almost 3 years, you had picked up on french terms and were able to have small conversations only speaking French with Charles 
“I posted you on instagram” you told him as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders pulling you closer into him but being careful not to spill the drink in your hands 
“Oh what did you post? My phones charging” he explained as you unlocked your phone and showed him the post you made for him “You’re now being referred to as mystery man” you chuckled. 
Out of all the names people had given him throughout the years, this was definitely your favourite. Charles also chuckled when he heard the name that was given to him 
“Can I ask you something?” Charles asked after a few seconds of comfortable silence passed between the two of you 
“Of course, what’s up?” you asked after taking a small sip of your tea “Do you ever think about going public with our relationship?” He followed up 
You turned to face him fully “Of course, mon amour but we both agreed it was better this way” You reiterated the promise you made early on in your relationship 
“I know but I hate that I cant comment on your posts or even post you myself” he sighed “I want to keep you safe but I also want the whole world to know you’re mine and I’m yours” he finished. 
“I know it’s not fair” you exclaimed while running your fingers through his hair, something you did for him when he was stressed or feeling anxious “I love you all the time though regardless if you post me or not you know that. Right?” You asked him 
“Of course I do” he told you in response closing his eyes feeling relaxed “One day we’ll go public. Im making you that promise” he told you opening his eyes again 
You smiled at him “Sounds like a beautiful promise” you responded, leaning in to kiss his cheek “As much as I would love to spend the rest of the night talking with you, you have to be at the airport early tomorrow” you reminded him as you stopped playing with his hair, to turn and put your mug on the bedside table next to your side of the bed, Charles putting his own mug on the table next to his side 
“Im gonna miss you” he told you when you were both situated in bed, the only source of light coming from the evening sky outside “Not as much as I’m gonna miss you” you told him, snuggling into his side while his arm pulled you closer to him. 
Even if you had been dating for awhile, the start of the race season was always a struggle, neither of you wanting to be apart for long periods of time but it was moments like these that you held close and savoured until the next time you could be this close again. 
-
yourusername posted on their story  
Tumblr media
caption: my happy place 🎨
╰ charles_leclerc: babe i miss you already and its only been a few days 
╰ yourusername: i know but soon you’ll be busy with media events, qualifying, racing and the time will go by quicker, i promise my love 
╰ charles_leclerc: facetime tonight so i can see your beautiful face ? 
╰ yourusername: of course ❤️ 
yourusername posted on their story  
Tumblr media
caption: now whose third wheeling..😠 @yourbestfriend 
╰ yourbestfriend: oh hush up, this was only one time compared to how many times i third wheeled you and driver boy 
╰ yourusername: okay fair point…also driver boy? wait till i tell charles that one 😂
more replies..
╰ charles_leclerc: omg since when did y/bf/n get a boyfriend? i want all the details 
╰ yourusername: i’ll tell you everything on our facetime call, its a pretty cute story of how they met 
╰ charles_leclerc: okay but not as cute as when we met? right? 
╰ yourusername: oh never, we have the ultimate cutest first meet story 🤭
-
charles_leclerc posted on their instagram  
Tumblr media
f1, carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari, landonorris & others liked 
feels good to be back 🏎️ 
tagged: @scuderiaferrari 
view all comments 
scuderiaferrari: looking forward to a great season ! 
╰ liked by charles_leclerc 
f1fan: HE LOOKS SO WELL RESTED AND HAPPY, FERRARI YOU BETTER DO CHARLES JUSTICE THIS SEASON 
f1: as if we weren’t already excited for the new season !!
╰ liked by charles_leclerc 
charlesleclercfan_: IM SO EXCITED 
charlesleclercupdates: THIS IS HIS SEASON, I CAN ALREADY FEEL IT 
Charles was standing with the other drivers, whenever the new season started they always had to do a bunch of media and although some drivers may hate how childish some of the antics were, overall it’s always a nice time getting to be in the same place as everyone and not be competing for once. 
Charles turned to George and Pierre who were in conversation with Carlos and Lando. Somehow they had gotten on the topics of relationships, Lando having told everyone that the girl he was seeing at the end of the previous season before the break, wasn’t in the picture anymore. 
“Aw mate I’m sorry” Charles told him “Its okay, we weren’t anything serious” Lando told him, seeming to be completely fine with the outcome. “Carlos how are you and your lady?” Lando asked Carlos taking the attention off of him 
“Ehh, its alright” Charles’ teammate answered the question directed at him “We barely talk and now with racing starting, I don’t see her sticking around much longer” he explained his current situation. 
To Charles it seemed as though everyone who had been relationships or atleast talking to someone, now had no one which made him a feel a bit guilty as he had been in a 2 year long relationship that none of them knew of. 
Later in the day, the guilt in Charles stomach only grew when he somehow found out 3 more drivers on the grids long term relationships had ended. He was feeling unnerved because it seemed as if there was some sort of relationship ruiner going through the paddock and he didn’t want to be the next victim. 
That night, he called you up, for a moment forgetting about the time change but remembering its only a small change. You answered after a few rings, you had your painting scrubs on indicating you had been working on a new piece of art 
“Hi mon amour” you exclaimed happy to see your boyfriend “I was just in the middle of painting, let me just take my scrubs off so I can move to the couch” You explained, Charles nodded his head acknowledging you
“Okay tell me how everything went today, I want to hear it all” you started talking again once you were situated on your couch. Charles started telling you about his day making sure to include what he learned about his fellow racers, which only caused you both to feel content keeping your relationship to yourselves. 
-
yourusername posted on their instagram 
Tumblr media
caption: disconnecting to enjoy the serenity of camping 🏕️
*replies disabled*
-
f1updates posted on their instagram  
Tumblr media
charles_leclercfan, f1fan, wagupdates & others liked 
old photos of charles leclerc with an unknown female leaked. reports say this was last year during the summer break, which brings up the questions of who is she? were they dating here? if yes, are they still dating? everyone wants to know. 
*comments disabled* 
charlesleclerc_updates posted on their instagram  
Tumblr media
f1fan, f1updates, wagupdates & others liked 
more leaked photos of charles with this mystery woman. who is she? i know im not the only one dying to know 
view all comments
user11: OH MY 
f1fan: CHARLES MY DUDE WHAT IS THIS 
f1updates: does anyone have any idea on who she is 
╰ user15: no clue 
user3: she’s pretty from what ive seen 
user22: i need to know everything 
ferrarifan: what i would give to have been a fly on the wall when charles found out these got leaked 
Charles was resting in his drivers room. He was trying to mediate which meant he had his phone silenced. This was something you started doing with him when he would get in his head about racing and it helped him regain his focus especially during the moments when he was to hard on himself.
He had been in here for probably 30 minutes before there was a rapid knock on the door “Charles, its Carlos can I come in?” his teammate asked from the other side 
“Yeah” Charles answered. Carlos opened the door and stepped into the room “Have you been on instagram?” Carlos asked holding his phone in his hand 
“No why?” Charles was confused, what was so important on there that had Carlos wondering of his activity on the app “You should see this” Carlos told him while passing him his opened phone. 
When Charles looked down and saw what he saw, he felt his heart stop. There you and him were on his boat, last summer. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He scrolled through his tagged and it was flooded with the same pictures posted by various accounts 
“This isn’t good” he mumbled to himself as he passed Carlos his phone back so he could pick up his own phone. He went to go text you immediately when he remembered you had told him, you and your best friend were going camping for a few days which meant you wouldn’t have reception until you got back home. 
He opted to still text you something rather than nothing, that way you would see his message once you turned your phone back on and would give him a call. 
“Can I ask who she is?” Carlos asked after a few moments of silence “Shes my girlfriend. We’ve been together now for almost 3 years” Charles answered his friends question, figuring the secret was out now and there was no point in lying. 
“Oh wow, you’ve kept this going for that long and its just now coming to light. Thats impressive” Carlos told him 
“Yeah we decided early on to keep it between us” Charles sighed “We were planning on going public eventually but I guess the public beat us to it” 
Carlos just gave his teammate a sympathetic nod, there wasn’t anything he could say in the moment but he could still be there for his friend. 
A few days after this, when you were on the drive back to your place, you turned your phone back on, having a few texts from Charles. One that stood out, read ‘Babe give me a call when you can. I have to talk to you about something’ the text from Charles read. 
You weren’t sure what this could be about so you didn’t wait to dial his number once you were in the comfort of your apartment. After a few rings, Charles answered, asking you how camping was and catching up before moving on to talk about what happened while you were offline. 
That night you and Charles had a long conversation on what you both wanted to do in this situation and after some back and forth, finally came to a decision regarding your relationship that you both hoped you wouldn’t regret down the line. 
-
yourusername posted on their story  
Tumblr media
caption: he’s back ♥️
╰ yourbestfriend: happy anniversary to you two:)
charles_leclerc posted on their story  
Tumblr media
caption: when she makes you breakfast 😍
╰ maxverstappen1: WAIT ‘SHE’ ?? 
╰ carlossainz55: AW
╰ landonorris: soft launch? 
-
yourusername posted on their instagram   
Tumblr media Tumblr media
yourbestfriend, charles_leclerc, landonorris, pierregasly & others liked 
i guess after 3 years, my mystery man isn’t a mystery anymore. 
happy 3 years mon amour 😘 
tagged: @charles_leclerc
comments have been limited 
charles_leclerc: i love our love 
charles_leclerc: 3 years into it, a lifetime to go 
╰ liked by yourusername 
yourbestfriend: so happy for you both 🥹
╰ liked by yourusername
pierregasly: oh wait this is actually cute 
╰ landonorris: agreed !!!!
charles_leclerc posted on their instagram    
Tumblr media Tumblr media
yourusername, yourbestfriend, f1, landonorris, maxverstappen1 & others liked 
hard launching because i’ve wanted to post my girl since i met her 
joyeux anniversaire, ma chérie 💌 
tagged: @yourusername 
comments have been limited
yourusername: i love you 
yourusername: falling asleep on you > falling asleep on the bed 
╰ liked by charles_leclerc
f1: we’re happy for you:)
maxverstappen1: 3 YEARS? WOW 
maxverstappen1: happy for you dude 
carlossainz55: bring her to the races so we can all meet her !! 
╰ liked by yourusername & charles_leclerc 
-
i hope you enjoyed this one. im trying to get more into including actual pieces of writing so hopefully for this one, everything made sense. as always feel free to leave any comments or you can make your own request, up to you! ♥️
1K notes · View notes
nereidprinc3ss · 18 days
Text
come on home
in which the only person who can comfort you after your breakup with spencer reid, is spencer reid
inspired by the song "summer's end" by the artist currently known as phoebe bridgers
wc 2857
warnings: gn!reader (correct me if im wrong), minor mommy issues, angst, happy ending
a/n: thank you to the person who requested this:) u r an angel and I listened to this song the whole time i wrote (if you haven't heard, listen!!) i sincerely hope you enjoy, i like this one a lot<3
She hung up on you. 
Forty-seven minutes of being insulted and berated after you’d called her looking for comfort, and you put up with every single cruel word—just for your mother to hang up on you. And it’s exactly the kind of thing she’d do, so you shouldn’t be surprised. An ache, you’d expect—but it shouldn’t sting like this. You thought you knew better. 
Now you’re in a ball on your couch, clutching your phone to your chest and crying. There’s no point hiding it. Your roommate is out with her girlfriend for the evening—which is too bad because even though you feel like being alone, you’re sure that’s the wrong call. Your other friends are out having fun tonight, too. They’d even invited you, but you turned them down. Look where that had gotten you. Obviously, your mother is not the person you’re about to run to for comfort, either. 
You try to pretend, while you’re thinking of all these people who have ever cared for you, that Spencer Reid isn’t on your mind at all. You try to pretend like you don’t care that the person who loved you until you believed you actually deserved it is a contact going stale deep in the bowels of your text cache. With bleary eyes you scroll down, looking for your conversation where it gathers dust—the end of your relationship was a mutual decision, and you’re friendly, but you haven’t texted in a few weeks. Probably because every time the conversation starts to feel a little too easy, or the phone call lasts a little too long, that aching void in your chest gets worse and worse. Like pain in a phantom limb, you become acutely aware of what you do not have and how much it hurts.  
So blame it on the tears, or the mind-muddling melodrama of your relationship with your mother, blame it on anything but the truth—when your thumb drops on that call button like the plunger on a syringe, you don’t regret it.  
What you’re not expecting is for him to answer after the first ring. 
“Hi,” you say with a snuffle before Spencer can get a word in. There’s a brief interlude, in which you pick at your nails, comfortable to just sit in silence if that’s what he wants. As long as he’s there. 
“Hi.” Hearing his voice instantly melts a bit of the weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. Another pause, for which you remain silent, because you can feel him formulating a question—and you’d like to hear him speak again. “...am I allowed to ask if you’re okay?” 
Your lips purse and twist to the side, pained and comforted by how easily he can tell that you’re distraught. One word across a tinny connection, and he knows. 
“No. Yes. I mean... I guess that’s why I called you. But you don’t have to ask me about it.” You sniff again and take a deep breath. “How was your day? What state are you in?” 
“I’m in the district,” he answers after a moment, easing into a casualness that he likely doesn’t feel for your sake. Wind crunches through the speaker. He probably just got out of work. “My day was... it was good. I got to talk about my job to a bunch of elementary schoolers, which is always a confidence boost.” 
You chuckle, still laying on your side on the couch and watching storm clouds gathering outside. 
“Nice, nice. What else?” 
“Let’s see... I forgot lunch, so I had three oranges, and they were actually pretty good. I reread Game of Thrones—I don’t know why I did that. I’m never going to like that book.” 
“Masochist,” you smile. He laughs, and you hear the sound of a car door opening. 
“Oh! I talked to my mom. Believe it or not, she says hi.” 
A completely inadvertent snort constitutes your response. It’s not what you meant to do, and out of context it’s sort of mean, but you actually think it’s incredibly endearing that he still talks to his mother about you. He scrambles to explain himself. 
“I swear, we barely talked about you this time. Mostly we talked about her new boyfriend Leonard.” 
“No, no, that’s not... I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you or your mom. That’s really sweet, actually. Tell her I say hi too.” 
When he next speaks, you can hear the smile in his voice. 
“I will.” Another long pause. You imagine him sitting in the parking lot at Quantico, keys vertical in the ignition of his old car and feeling the silence just as much as you are. He surprises you by not ending the conversation—instead he asks a question. It is concern, poorly disguised with nervous humor. Or maybe you just know him too well. “Do I get to find out what’s on your mind, or are you leaving me in suspense here?”  
You bite the inside of your cheek. 
“Um... well, actually, I just got off the phone with my mom, too. It didn’t go so well,” you laugh halfheartedly, “I know it was dumb to try and have an actual conversation with her, but... you know me. Always following blind optimism to the depths of hell.” 
“Why’d you call your mom?” he asks, so gently it brings a fresh round of tears to your eyes. Still, you attempt to put a cheerful affect on your strained voice. 
“Mm, you know. Just needed someone to talk to.” 
Spencer’s knowing sigh does little to make you feel better. 
“You know you can always talk to me, right? I know it’s... it’s different now, but... I care about you a lot. And, you know, I receive very few phone calls, so the line is pretty much always open.” 
Your laugh quickly devolves into a cry. 
“I appreciate that, but I can’t talk to you about everything.” 
“Why not?” he pleads immediately, voice thin and desperate like it’s his most burning question. A million lies dance over the tip of your tongue. A million things that feel safer to say than the truth. But in the end, it comes out anyway—choked, and so quiet, but aloud nonetheless. 
“Because I’m trying really hard to stop missing you so much.” 
Another long beat of silence. The back of your throat feels dry and hollow—a cage for your hummingbird heart. 
“If it hurts too much to talk to me, you don’t need to do that to yourself. But I also don’t want you to hurt yourself thinking you’re alone. You are... so important to me. I will always try to take care of you the best I can—whether that means staying away or being at your front door. If you ever need me, or even... vaguely want me, I will be there.” 
Each word caves your resolve. Each syllable is a slap in the face to progress you’d been pretending to make. You can be strong—you've proven that over the past ten weeks. You can be stone-faced and slash at your heart until the scar tissue is thick and jagged, and eventually it won’t hurt anymore. But maybe, by letting someone tend to the wounds, they’ll heal a little nicer. A little kinder. Even if you can’t undo the damage, maybe one day you’ll be soft again. 
“What if I vaguely want you right now?” you sniffle. 
Finally, you hear the silver jingle of keys turning. The sputter and rumble of an old engine coming to life. 
“Then I’m on my way.” 
Twenty four minutes later, there’s a soft knock at your door.  
After the call had ended, you’d wondered if you made it all up. Surely your ex-boyfriend wasn’t actually about to show up at your apartment. Someone you’ve grieved for can’t just come back—there are countless horror novels and movies based upon that very tenet. Does it matter if they ever actually died? How long is ten weeks, really? It feels like a lifetime. 
You shuffle across the room, wiping under your eyes with your already damp sleeves, and undoing all the locks Spencer had conditioned you to start using. When the door cracks open, and you see Spencer standing there, windswept and concerned, for the first time in months, it hits you like a tidal wave. You are, beyond a shadow of a doubt, still just as in love with him as you ever were. The relief that floods your veins as he looks down at you with so much care in his eyes is like sinking into warm water. It’s a dead giveaway, and maybe it makes this whole thing a terrible idea, but you can’t seem to care very much. You open the door wider, and he enters, and he stands in your kitchen with his hands in his coat pocket as you shut the door and he’s perfect. It dawns on you that for the first time since the breakup, you feel safe. Like you don’t have to be a stone pillar anymore. This, of course, translates into even more tears, which you try to hide as you face away, re-locking the door.  
“Sweetheart...” he sighs, because you can’t hide anything from him. Hearing the resonance of his voice so close to you once more is overwhelming. In an instant you’re rushing into his arms, and he accepts you without hesitation. You bury your teary face in the vetiver safety of his button-up and slip your arms under his coat, as if you could absorb his warmth and forever hide from the world that way. He pulls you even closer. It’s terrible and cruel how much he is exactly what you needed. “What’s wrong? What did she say?” 
You shake your head and gasp a small sob. 
Truthfully, you’re not really crying about the petty insults from your mother anymore. You’re back to square one, the reason you’d called your mother to begin with—you miss the man whose arms are currently wound around your shoulders. 
His hand smooths over the back of your hair. 
“Okay. That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.” 
You stay like that—content even as you cry because being with him feels so much safer than being alone. It feels right—or perhaps it’s just familiar. You don’t know which is worse.  
Spencer is rubbing soothing lines up and down your back as you cling to him, soaking him up in all his ephemeral, comforting glory. He surprises you by chuckling—it vibrates through his chest, buzzing against your ear. 
“Nice Magritte print. I bet the person who bought that has fantastic taste.” 
“Are you gonna ask for it back?” you mumble into the fabric of his suit jacket. He is, of course, referring to the painting you’d more or less stolen from his apartment seven months ago. You really don’t want him to take it home. It’s the most overt Spencer memorabilia you’d allowed yourself to keep in plain sight. 
“No, baby. You can keep it.” The words are low, and kind, and they settle you some, but you can’t seem to get him close enough. “What can I do?” he whispers after a moment, helpless as you take a shuddering breath. “Can I make you tea? Have you eaten?” 
“Will you just... stay for a little bit? I’ll—I promise I’ll stop crying.” 
There is an unexpected lull where you thought you’d receive pretty immediate agreement, but before you can pull back and ask what’s wrong, he murmurs, “yeah. I can stay for a while. But you have to kick me out before it gets too late.” 
You wonder if you’re imagining the double-entendre that seems to underline his words in bold red ink. Spencer is too smart to have not noticed a thing like that. You don’t mention it—it all boils down to the same unspoken idea. 
Don’t let me stay, because I might not leave. 
“I will,” you sniff, finally stepping back and wiping your own tears. It hurts to lose his touch, but at least you know he’s not going anywhere for the next few hours. This, as opposed to everything else lately, can be a beginning instead of an end.  
At least, until he goes home. 
Three and a half hours later, after tea, an impromptu dinner comprised mostly of cheese and crackers, and several vinyl changes on your record player (which served only as background noise for your long, ambling conversations), things are seeming to wind down to a natural stopping point. Which you hate. The whole time you’d had a dull ache in your chest because talking to him was easier than breathing and you knew it wouldn’t last. There had been one or two false bottoms already—the first when you’d yawned around nine, and the second when you’d gotten up to do your skincare and brush your teeth half an hour later. Even then he’d just leaned against the doorframe, watching your reflection above the sink as you talked for fifteen more minutes. Now you stand across from each other in the kitchen, plates restacked and everything in order. Of course he’d insisted on helping you clean up. 
“I should go,” he says, with a soft sort of finality in his voice.  
“Is your carriage turning into a pumpkin?” you tease gently, to hide how much you don’t want him to leave. He smiles—a small, weary thing—but genuinely and endlessly charmed by you. 
“That among other things.” 
“Would you—would you walk me to my room first?” 
The hesitance is clear in his eyes and the way his lips part as if to say, ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea’, but you're sure he’s really going to leave in a moment and you’re also sure he won’t deny you this one small thing before he does. 
“Okay.” 
It’s a short, silent walk through the living room and down the hall to your bedroom door, but you can feel him trailing behind you the whole way. You stop in front of your open door, turning face to face with him.  
“Thanks,” you murmur.  
His lips pull into a melancholy smile. 
“Anytime.” 
There’s nothing left to do but wrap your arms around each other once more, tuck yourself into the you-sized space between his head and shoulder and hold on for as long as he’ll let you. The hug lingers for longer than is wise. Spencer adjusts his arms looped around your waist, pulling you closer, and you nuzzle against his neck, grateful that at least he seems as reluctant to let this end as you are.  
But eventually, it relaxes. Your hold on each other loosens. His face is just inches from yours, and you get to study every plane and valley and line like you’d thought you never would again. It seems he’s doing the same—losing himself in the luxury of seeing you up close. 
“Will you kiss me goodnight?” you whisper, unable to muster any self-consciousness though you know it’s a fool’s errand. Spencer strokes your waist. 
“I can’t do that, honey.” 
“Why not?” 
His voice is just as quiet as yours. It falters slightly as he speaks, so gently, so patiently. 
“Because we’re not together anymore.” 
“Why not?” 
Your feeble, desperate supplication sounds pitiable even to you. You’re not proud, but you can’t find it in yourself to be ashamed, either. All you want is an answer. But it’s like a child asking why the sky is blue, or the earth is round. There is a definitive explanation, but mostly, the adult will shrug, and say, that’s just how it is. 
Spencer’s eyes squeeze shut. His head tilts down. 
“We can’t do this again, sweetheart. You know why we’re not together.” 
In theory—yes. You’d had so many conversations when you’d broken up. It had been a long, painful process, spanning multiple all-nighters at his kitchen table, nursing coffee and trying to convince each other and yourselves that it was the right choice. But it just feels like a horrible, horrible mistake. You feel desperate to explain this to him before he slips away again—the words come out flustered, inelegant as you cling to him.
“But I don’t think I’m getting better without you. I tried, I tried so hard to be good on my own, but everything is worse and harder and—and we weren’t sure about it then, and I don’t think it was the right choice, because I still really need you. Like, all the time. I’m—it’s not getting better without you. Nothing got better.” 
He swallows, eyes darting between yours for an infinite second. You’re breathless and your heart is pounding after your confession—you can feel your eyes stinging with the few tears that managed to escape as you spoke. 
“Everything is worse,” he agrees shakily. “Everything. I’m—I’m getting disciplinary infractions from Hotch like I’m a child because I can’t focus on anything. Game of Thrones is the most complex literature I can comprehend right now. I had to use a calculator the other day.” 
You want to laugh, but nothing is funny until he’s yours again. 
“Then come back. Please come back, Spencer.” 
Finally, he leans closer, until your heads are pressed together, and his nose bumps yours, feather light. You're dizzy. You exhale. He inhales. 
“I don’t think I knew how to leave in the first place.” 
When he kisses you, it feels like home. 
843 notes · View notes
idanceuntilidie · 5 months
Note
Hii! Can i request yan cheater with male reader? I really like your writing, and I also love you sm! Have a nice day 💗💗💗💗
Thank you so much I'm gonna cry, I love you too!! Sorry if this is wonky, today was a very exhausting day for me mentally. I hope you enjoy anyway <3 come again :D i made the cheater male I hope you don't mind--
Yandere Cheater x M!Reader
Requests are open
TW: yandere behaviours, breaking and enetering, slightly digusting parts including human hair and organs.
Tumblr media
Ciaran was quite special. Very handsome, always surrounded by people. You aren’t sure if being with him was a blessing or a curse.
He swore he was yours only, but you can’t help but feel hurt when he is flirting with someone right in front of you. There are also times where his phone blows with notifications from different people. It hurt, your heart felt like it was shattering just to be put back and destroyed again.
But the last straw was when you got a message from one of his lovers, they got a moment ofweakness, they felt bad and spilled everything out in a long message. The cherry on top were screenshots and photos of them kissing each other.
You were sure this time your heart just ceases to exist. You cried a lot that day, not ready to face Ciaran. You packed his things and left them outside of the door.
Tumblr media
It baffled him how you would leave him just like that, it was just a small misunderstanding. It was, he thinks, just one time thing. You got just oh so boring he couldn’t take it anymore. He still loves you! He really does.
He missed your smile, your smell, how beautiful you looked in the rising sun when you just woke up. His heart squeezes in his chest. Another night spent waiting by your door, you won’t let him in of course, but he just likes to sit there, happily humming when he sees you through your windows. It became a routine, you never called the cops on him, which means you still must like him. Hope burned in his chest, and slowly the obsession for you began.
And he will get his little boyfriend back. You don’t feel safe in your house anymore, Ciarian gave up on sitting outside of your house yes, but now you can’t stop receiving messages and calls from random numbers.
Tumblr media
Sometimes the caller breathes, silently stuttering your name, sometimes even moaning. Calling you his little pretty boy and shit. It made your stomach twist. You called the police many times, but at this point they just don’t believe you because of your lack of evidence. Lazy bastards. You also began receiving gifts, your favorite food, drinks, clothes that fit you perfectly. There was well, one time where your friend was over and one of these gifts appeared, with a card attached to it. A box of chocolates.
You were very tired that day, barely keeping yourself awake, you told your friend to take it. They accepted gladly, and began to eat while you went to the kitchen to make some coffee for you and them, that's when you heard a shriek and gagging sounds. You ran to your friend and saw them pulling hair out of their mouth, there was some skin attached to it. Your friend threw up soon after.
So, after that incident their gifts landed in trash. You feared what you might find out in them next. You don’t feel safe here, but you don’t have enough money to move. So like a rational person, you took another shift. The less you are home the better. It turns out you were wrong.
You came back in the middle of the night, you were practically falling asleep while standing up. You took off your shoes and headed to the kitchen for a sip of water so you can head to bed. When you turned on the light you froze in place. A beautifully wrapped heart shaped box sat on the counter waiting. You swallowed, body moving on your own. The gifts never appeared inside of your house. Hell, they are getting bolder with each gift. As you got closer to the box, a foul smell filled your senses. It was sweet, a little fruity.  Your shaking hands hovered over the opening of the box, carefully lifting up the lid.
Tumblr media
Your scream echoed through the house, as you fell down to the floor. Inside of the box was a human heart, carefully placed and surrounded by your favourite flowers.
You felt a hand on your shoulder, and a warm breath on your cheek.
Ciaran.
Your breath hitched, you didn’t dare to move as his bloody hands wrapped around your shaking form.
“Did you like my gift? Only the best for my boyfriend, do you forgive me now? Look how much I have done for you.” He kissed your cheek.
“I forgive you for kicking me out, I’m a better man after all of this has ended you know? Now we can be together forever.”
1K notes · View notes
astonmartinii · 4 months
Text
a very nonsense christmas | charles leclerc social media au
pairing: charles leclerc x fem singer!reader
face claim: sabrina carpenter
based on this request: Hi, how are you can you please write something with Charles x singer reader like a part 2 of "nonsense... or is it?" based on Santa doesn't know you like I do music video something very wholesome idk you can ignore this if you want, hope you have a good day/night 🤍 - @rana030
MASTERLIST | BUY ME A KO-FI? | PART ONE
yourusername
Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,441,934 others
yourusername: do you hear those slay bells ringing? i love christmas so much that i'm giving you guys six new songs for this holiday season !!
view all comments
user1: mama is going straight on the nice list for this one
user2: christmas is saved
charles_leclerc: so proud of you cherie
yourusername: says the muse
charles_leclerc: you're my angel on the top of the tree
yourusername: as long as you're under the tree ready to be unwrapped
pierregasly: STOP
alexalbon: we MUST protect the sanctity of christmas
yourusername: oh alex, do not listen to the ep...
alexalbon: too late just pressed play
alexalbon: YOU NEED THE CHARLES DICKENS ???
yourusername: amazing word play, am i right?
alexalbon: no.
charles_leclerc: he doesn't meant that babe. lily has a commitment, he's just lonely
user3: y/n was like "if you weren't aware, i am getting DICKED DOWN for christmas"
user4: as much as i'd peel all of my skin off to be in either of their positions, good for her
maxverstappen1: i think nonsense christmas has single handedly killed my investigative journalism career. i am not analysing charles' massive sack
yourusername: damn right you won't be
charles_leclerc: maybe you should analyse it, you could learn something from it
maxverstappen1: hOW DARE YOU
Tumblr media
yourusername
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by taylorswift, charles_leclerc and 1,887,341 others
tagged: charles_leclerc, taylorswift & killatrav
yourusername: thank you to all the lovely people who came to the fruitcake release party ! xx
view all comments
user7: CHARLES AND TRAVIS IN ONE PLACE ALERT
user8: so does this mean we can get a y/n and charles appearance on the new heights podcast?
charles_leclerc: do you think people could tell i was about to pass out while playing the piano?
yourusername: definitely not !
maxverstappen1: yes we could
charles_leclerc: WHAT I WAS JUST NERVOUS AND I DIDN'T WANT TO LET Y/N DOWN AND TAYLOR WAS THERE SO I DIDN'T WANT TO EMBARRASS MYSELF
maxverstappen1: okay i didn't need the pity party. you were good, unfortunately very good. i need to learn piano now. i have to beat you in everything
yourusername: maybe you should've forgone the santa suit... it was quite warm
charles_leclerc: but you wanna be mrs claus ? (i also have a big north pole lol)
alexalbon: ENOUGH
user9: wait so like, was the grid at the release party?
user10: based on most of their instagram stories, and y/n's stories i'm gonna say yes
taylorswift: i had so much fun !! i love fruitcake and tell charlie his piano was great
charles_leclerc: SUCK ON THAT @maxverstappen1
taylorswift: ?
charles_leclerc: we've got bad blood taylor's version featuring kendrick lamar?
taylorswift: i see
maxverstappen1: he's the reason we can't have nice things
user11: someone free taylor from lestappen
killatrav: okay. the girls throw the best parties. esteban and pierre i own your team now, you guys gotta get better at drinking
yourusername: careful travis they're french ...
killtrav: is your boyfriend not also french? he's like a puppy dog
yourusername: HE'S MONAGASQUE
charles_leclerc: i am NOT french
estebanocon: i only threw up because eggnog is not what you guys advertise it to be
pierregasly: i'm not gonna lie i don't remember even seeing you last night
user12: okay so get invited to one of these parties is definitely on the bucket list now
charles_leclerc
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by pierregasly, yourusername and 1,922,033 others
tagged: yourusername, killatrav
charles_leclerc: charles and travis 🤝 just happy we got a chance
view all comments
user13: if he's not like them i don't want it
user14: if santa doesn't pull through with a man like them under my tree this year ... imma be mad
killatrav: travis and charles 🤝 having girlfriends that make us giggle and swing our feet
charles_leclerc: does the honeymoon phase ever finish?
killtrav: well it definitely hasn't for me
maxverstappen1: NOOOOOOOOOOOO
alexalbon: say it ain't so
yourusername: haters gonna hate 😎
alexalbon: he is so happy it is bordering on insufferable
charles_leclerc: alex :(
alexalbon: i am very happy for you charlie and lily is definitely very happy for you, but if you talk to me for the TWELVE HOUR flight to brazil again i will terminate this friendship
killtrav: i am so confused
user15: poor travis and taylor are just being exposed to the grid chaos
yourusername: you posting this like i'm not the luckiest girl in the world
charles_leclerc: i just love you so much and i'm so glad you shortlisted me for your music video
yourusername: yeah spolier alert there was no shortlist. i wanted you and i didn't want to get out right rejected...
charles_leclerc: as if i would reject any offer from you i think i would've torn down maranello if they said i wasn't allowed to be in it
scuderiaferrari: ?
user16: i'm so obsessed with how much charles has embraced the wag life
user17: can't believe i get to live a life where i can bop along to music about how good in bed charles leclerc is
user18: they better not break up cause i may be tifosi but i shall be streaming
yourusername added to their story
Tumblr media Tumblr media
yourusername
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by taylorswift, charles_leclerc and 1,833,922 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: santa doesn't know you like i do baby
view all comments
user21: all i want for christmas is even more y/n and charles content
user22: mum and dad have kept us fed over the winter break
user23: i'm not ready for them to be separated when the season starts again :(
charles_leclerc: not to be that person but we're so hot
yourusername: no, you should say it louder
charles_leclerc: WE'RE HOT
maxverstappen1: can you people knock it off or we're not coming to your christmas party
yourusername: ERM ??? 🫤
alexalbon: you people have single handedly made me the grinch
yourusername: but but but ??? you all begged for an invite :(
charles_leclerc: FAKE and that's why you're all getting coal from us
user24: my god i am so lonely
user25: if i don't wake up to a charles shape gift under my tree i will not make it to next christmas
danielricciardo: just to be sure, this party is not going to be filmed and turned into a music video?
yourusername: it's just an old-fashioned shin dig girly don't worry
yourusername: or by the tone of this, should i be worried?
danielricciardo: no!
charles_leclerc: do NOT ruin my home please
danielricciardo: no promises xoxoxo
user26: y/n might want to film the party but I NEED THE FOOTAGE
user27: @tedkravitz boy do i have a gig for you
danielricciardo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,093,445 others
tagged: charles_leclerc & yourusername
danielricciardo: do NOT drink the eggnog at a y/n christmas party this is a public safety announcement
view all comments
user28: i would commit unspeakable crimes to be present here
yourusername: if you weren't a fake fan you would've listened to fruitcake and would know we spike the eggnog 🤷‍♀️
danielricciardo: i am a fan !!!!!!!!!
yourusername: you asked me and yuki how we escaped the north pole last night
yukitsunoda0511: don't think i've forgotten about that, say goodbye to a tow in quali old man
danielricciardo: IT WAS A COMPLIMENT ELVES ARE CUTE?
charles_leclerc: don't call my girlfriend cute that's my job 🤨
danielricciardo: do you people ever let me live? i am battling a hangover like no other please stop shouting at me
charles_leclerc: maybe someone of your old age should manage his drink better
danielricciardo: THAT'S IT I'M GOING
yourusername: thanks we did actually want the kitchen floor back
user29: daniel calling y/n and yuki elves kills me
yourusername: we're not elf height we're cutie patootie height 💅
yukitsunoda0511: amen
alexalbon: i will endure the torture because that was fucking insane
maxverstappen1: @yourusername you're in charge of all after parties now sorry
yourusername: let charlie win and you got a deal
maxverstappen1: i'd rather drink my gin and tonic in a ditch than let that happen
charles_leclerc: BOOO
alexalbon: cocktail recipe immediately @yourusername
yourusername: you've changed your tune ?
alexalbon: i had fun, sue me. plus i am actually happy for charlie but please no more singing about his dick
yourusername: i can't make any promises
charles_leclerc: and there's plenty of material to get the creative juices flowing
alexalbon: FUCK OFF
maxverstappen1: FUCK OFF
user30: the grid will never know peace, not even at christmas time
Tumblr media
charles_leclerc
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by taylorswift, yourusername and 1,893,446 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: nothing like the holidays with the love of your life
view all comments
user35: how down bad all men should be
yourusername: best holidays ever !!!! love you charlie xx
charles_leclerc: my christmas wish last year came true, and now you're stuck with me
yourusername: no one i would rather be stuck with
charles_leclerc: I LOVE YOU
yourusername: I LOVE YOU MORE
user36: good thing i got presents this year or the sheer sight of this couple would make me so jealous i would spontaneously combust
user37: real
landonorris: you will see to the crime of the stupid amount of mistletoe you had up at that damn party
charles_leclerc: have you seen y/n? (don't answer that) obviously i want any excuse to kiss her
landonorris: i DON'T CARE I HAD TO KISS DANIEL FIVE TIMES I WILL NEVER RECOVER
danielricciardo: i know you enjoyed baby
landonorris: @yourusername @charles_leclerc YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS
yourusername: idk it looked like you enjoyed it to me
landonorris: you WATCHED?
yourusername: i filmed it :) top blackmail material, don't crash into charlie OR ELSE
charles_leclerc: thanks babe
landonorris: @georgerussell63 get the gdpa to intervene nOW
georgerussell63: eh i'm quite entertained
user38: this really is the giving season huh
arthurleclerc: do i mean nothing to you?
charles_leclerc: you're nowhere near as cute as y/n 🤷‍♀️
yourusername: awwwww charlie
arthurleclerc: EXCUSE ME? WHAT HAPPENED TO CHRISTMAS SPIRIT?
user39: charles is really ride or die lol
note: have a very merry christmas! i hope you guys all have a great holiday season and enjoy this quick one! i've been super busy but wanted to give you all a lil christmas treat - much love xx
1K notes · View notes
ladyelissarose · 9 months
Note
Hello! I really loved your miguel o'hara works , and i would like to make a request,about headcanons of miguel with a sweet and shy housewife reader ,like ,she is always in home ,cooking ,cleaning and taking care of the house in general ,and always welcomes miguel saying how proud is of him and his job,if youre comfortable you can include a nsfw part but if you dont want to you can just make the fluff part , i hope its okay and have a nice day!
Tumblr media
Miguel O’Hara x housewife reader
Warnings: there’s the SFW & NSFW headcannons!! Fluff and alll…
Authors note: Thank you for your sweet words hun!! I wish you the best!! And of course I added down NSFW! I had to- it’s Miguel we’re talking about!! But yes.. I hope you enjoy and I met your expectations:)
•Ever since the start of your relationship, you knew Miguel was the Spider-Man of Nueva York, after he saved your life and kissed your scared tears away. He instantly felt a connection with you and knew he had to have you.
•You were very shy tho, and kept to yourself. Only had trips to the library and to the flower shop- you were basically a home-body.. not a fan of being around or in large crowds.. but Miguel made you feel safe instantly and he took you safely home through a path that was quiet and not around much people and noise.
•Miguel was gentle and didn’t push you to do more than you wanted too, and he was the first person that made you feel comfortable with yourself. That’s why after countless dates and swinging trips on his back, you’re happily married to him and are kept safe in your guys’ home. Where you live with and for him while he keeps the beautiful city safe.
•Everyday he’d come home with a new book or a bouquet of fresh flowers, showering you with things that made you happy, to earn him your gorgeous, shy smile. He’s seen all of you and loved you entirely, yet he was proud on how he made you blush everytime he brought something home, and he lived for kissing that cute pouty smile you had.
•To make up for all the gifts he gave you- tho he said payback wasn’t necessary because you were his love and life. You still worked to give him the best life in your shared home. It was only fair since he sheltered you and your heart, and kept your city as safe as he possibly could.
•During the time he was gone, you clean up your home, doing the laundry and fixing up his backup suits that got ruined on missions. And you found comfort in doing such, as they all smelled like him, no matter how much you washed them.
•And he liked it that way, he stopped asking Lyla for remakes of his suit when he found out your cute hands fixed his suits perfectly. He always kissed you deeply and called you ‘his good girl’ once he had it on and it was good to go. Your hands also got sweet kisses as he praised you for your work.
•The city was messy and dark all the time, even while saving the world it had its dark places that were messy and particularly smelly, burning Miguel’s nose sometimes. But when he came home, he was met with the aroma of your sweet scent, it smelled like home and it was his favorite. And one of the best things, it was clean and orderly.
•Miguel loved seeing things in order and perfectly clean, and he had asked you if you had a maid to get all done perfectly- to which you said no. And he found out it was true (not that he didn’t believe you) when one night he came home earlier than usual, and you were up dusting all the little trinkets on the shelf ever so delicately and efficiently.
•His favorite thing to do was come up to you quietly, wherever you were cleaning, and sweep you up in his arms, chuckling to himself when he heard your squeals as he held you up kissing your neck. Praising you for your time to keep things nice, but scolding you for not being in bed resting well and keeping the bed warm for him. Or if it was during the day he’d ask why you’re not reading or enjoying the afternoon.
•Oh and when you cook? OH- that makes Miguel the happiest (besides you and everything that involves only ‘you’) He’s always starving after a long mission or day at Alchemax. So when he comes home smelling your homemade meals, he’s falling in love all over again. His heart growing twice it’s size at the sight of you singing lowly and stirring the pot... or kneading the dough for the empanadas.
•He tried telling you a few times that it was ok for take out once in a while, not wanting you to cool all the time, worried that you might think he only wants that from you if not. But you were always happy to make something new or his favorite, it made you proud when Miguel wore a smile while he ate, complementing,
“...mi amor, esto es delicioso.” (My love, this is delicious)
•You always let him know how proud of him you were. In actions or soft words, and he’d beam proudly and smile sheepishly. A tight hug and good kiss made it onto his lips everytime you caught him coming in through the door or fire escape. You wouldn’t let a word escape until you both were out of breath from crashing lips, you was always the first to break to say how much you missed him- but he’d chase your lips like a mad man. Whining,
“Dejame besarte!” (Let me kiss you!)
NSFW!
•He occasionally grew hard at the sight of you doing something that screamed ‘wifey material’. The cleaning, cooking, fixing, even resting on the couch reading a book- just everything about you made him crave you instantly at sight. So he’d take you wherever it was you were, of course if you wanted to- but you’ve yet to say no (I mean who would-)
•Over the couch he’d take you from behind, whispering praises while kissing your neck, after he caught you reading your new book while resting over the armrest. Your little dress was so cute and gave him access to have you right away, pounding into your pussy slowly yet roughly. Letting his love for you sink in deeply. He loved marking your neck and caressing your sides as he did so.
•Since you were quiet and shy most of the time, even around him, he’d do the most open things to make you blush and push your buttons of pleasure to make you moan out loud, as you were shy at first. One day you were painting a picture of you and him, a replica of a photo you two took at the library, but soon- Miguel was digging his face in between your breasts kissing them softly while he fucked you against the incomplete painting, legs wrapped around his waist tightly. And you couldn’t care about the painting- you didn’t like it anyways after you messed it up earlier (after getting distracted by eyeing the picture too closely)
•One of Miguel’s favorite things to do was eat you from behind while you were tip-toeing trying to reach the top shelf to clean it. You hold onto it tightly while you felt his tongue swipe over your pussy and dig into you, making you pull his hair closer to you as he drew your high close right away, not relenting in eating you out like he starved for your taste. He lived for you coming undone on his face. And when he stayed home afterwards he’d kissed you to taste yourself on his lips, or when he had to go to work, he wear his mask over his coated lips with your juices- either way he leave himself full of you.
•And the kitchen was a good place- HIS FAVORITE PLACE TO FUCK YOU RAW. He was excited already to see his gorgeous, sweet and quiet house wife cook his delicious meals. But soon you became a moaning, crying mess, begging for him to fuck you harder as you were laying on the kitchen table, holding onto his shoulders tightly as he fucked you deeply. And you knew he was in to fuck you in the kitchen, when he’d come from behind you and lower the heat on the stove, if not turn it off.
•Let’s just say Miguel found a perfect wife in you, you completed him in every way and made him happy. From keeping his home warm and happy, safe and bright, to his heart held, loved and cherished- and beating wildly while he took you under his spell and ride of pleasure.
•And you? Could never get enough of Miguel, something of him was always on you, around you, and in you.. sometimes he’d leave his cum dripping from your pussy while you finished your things while he was gone. It made you blush crazy to know only he could pull that out of you, but he was your home and made you confident around him.. so why not?
2K notes · View notes
slasher-cam · 2 months
Note
Hii! I saw you were doing Poppy playtime and i was wondering if you could do a smiling critters x caretaker/worker reader? I was thinking about if reader was always super nice and caring towards the smiling critters and one day they go missing and a new toy suddenly shows up and the smiling critters realizes it it reader who has no memories of them thx :)
Frightening Transformations
{Pt. 1 of ?? (will possible make this into a mini series if this gets enough likes)}
Request? [ yes ] [ no] Notes|| Aww Thank you so much! I hope I can fulfill what you wanted :) Also you guys made it!! Thank you so much for 231 notes in one day enjoyᡣ𐭩 Synopsis|| As a worker for Playtime co. you could help but adore the little toys that made going to work worth it. Though as you discover something you were never supposed to find the owners at playtime co. can't risk you running your mouth and telling all of their secrets Warnings|| SFW-♡, ANGST- 🥀?, PLATONIC-❁,ASKS-✰ Word count|| 2,343 characters
Tumblr media
You were a worker for Playtime.co
Yes things felt off about this company but so does everyother one. If they want to admit or not, all companies have some sort of secrets they want to keep out of the public eye but some secrets are darker than others.
You were assigned as a caretaker of sorts to help keep them in tip top shape by making sure they were clean, had no rips or tears and just overall made sure they were interacting okay with the children
And the smiling critters appreciated this!
They were always treated distantly and alienated so it was a good change to have someone so genuine and kind hearted towards them actually be nice than just tolerating them for obligatory sake
Being introduced to them for the first time was a whirlwind
"It's nice to meet you Ms./Mx. (lastname)! I'm DogDay and these are all my friends!"
You were soon crowded by all the smiling critters towering over you who were excited to meet you, except for one..
DogDay was excitedly introducing you to all his friends but you couldn't help but notice a giant purple cat who was lurking off in the distance on top of a building. As soon as he realized your gaze was on him his hopped off the building and disappeared behind it.
"How strange.." you thought to yourself when it seemed like dogday read your mind
"Oh! That was CatNap! He's a bit shy but he'll warm up to you soon enough"
DogDay said patting your shoulder.
And so your job begun..
Everyday you would watch over the smiling critters as they played with the children making sure no accidents occurred
Everyday you learned and connected with the smiling critters learning all that you could and truly make everyone comfortable
But when the smiling critters get a little too comfortable around you that management surely won't like..
。 ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚。 ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚。 ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚。 ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚。
Hope you enjoyed xoxoᡣ𐭩
818 notes · View notes
luveline · 8 months
Note
jadey!! would you ever write something for spencer where reader gets tipsy/drunk and is all over him? i just think he would be so cute and flustered, especially if she isn’t usually this forward with him (either established relationship or mutual crushing!)
thanks for your request lovely♡ —you really want spencer to be your boyfriend. fem!reader, 1k
The smell of your lip balm is the very first thing Spencer acknowledges, rather than the soft press of your lips to his cheek, or your hand on his neck. When he does realise you're kissing him it's like a shock to the system; Spencer hadn't thought about what his neck might feel like to a new hand until you're cupping it sweetly, hadn't worried about the neatness of his hair before you ran a hand over it with reverence. 
"Thanks for coming to pick me up," you say, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Best boyfriend ever." 
Which is a great sentiment and all, but Spencer isn't your boyfriend. He holds your back in one arm, the other busy strangling his shiny car keys, his mind racing. He isn't your boyfriend. Right? You have to ask someone for it to be official (according to Derek, Penelope, and Emily) (JJ was a little more lax about it) and Spencer's been too scared to ask you. 
"Are you okay?" he asks softly. You're wobbly. 
"Super drunk," you say, like it's one word, a diagnosable affliction. "Sorry." 
"Hey, it's okay. You don't have to be sober for me to drive you home. I'm really glad you called me." 
You're drunk enough to miss his confused tones. "No,  I'm sorry 'cos I knew you'd say yes even though you hate driving. I honestly didn't even think you had a car." 
Spencer pulls you closer as a couple stumbles out of the same bar you'd been inside of, though when he arrived you were sitting on the cold sidewalk with your knees pulled up and your dress slipping out of place. He adjusts his grip to put an arm under yours and begins leading you toward to the parking lot. 
"Next time, I'll come inside to get you, okay? I don't think I need statistics to remind you that it's not safe to be inebriated by yourself in the city, especially now." It's pitch black outside, stars like a scattering of tint salt grains visible to only the most dedicated of eyes. "It's dangerous for you. I don't mind coming in to find you." 
"You're the nicest," you declare, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. 
He's fitter than he used to be, but Spencer doesn't have a chance of getting you to the car if you're not conscious. "Hey, keep your eyes open. It's not far, okay? Work with me."
"Will you call me something nice if I do?" you ask. 
Spencer helps you down off of the curb and across a naked stretch of asphalt shining like grease in the light from the lamppost. "I'll call you whatever you want me to." 
"You called me pretty on Thursday." 
Spencer feels the heat of a blush blooming at your slurred proclamation but doesn't back down. "You looked pretty on Thursday. You look pretty every single day. Watch the curb." 
"What about, uh, pet names?" 
"Like what?" he asks. 
"Like honey, and sweetheart. Angel, doll, dove." 
"Is that what you want?" he asks, trying to sneak a look at your face. You're concentrating hard on your footsteps, your tall shoes slippery on the wet ground. 
"If we're together…" 
"Are we together?" Spencer asks. He shouldn't ask while you're drunk, and it's not like he's going to take your word for it now over any sober discussion in the future, but he wants to know. 
"You don't think we're together?" you ask, frowning. He's horrified to see the crushed tremble in your lip. 
"I haven't had the chance to ask you yet," he says quickly. 
You sniffle, looking at him with a wide-eyed hope. "But you're going to ask me?" 
"Yeah, I'm going to ask you." He lowers his voice. He's not afraid of other people hearing him. If anything, he's afraid you will. He's afraid you'll hear him and reject him, despite every sign that says you won't. "I've wanted to ask you for a really long time, but you're– I was scared. You're beautiful, and kind, and you make me feel like I've found something I was missing, now. I guess I thought holding off would change the odds." 
"I thought you got banned from all those casinos," you say, clinging to his arm. 
Spencer's nose wrinkles. "What does that have to do with anything?" 
"You count cards and pr… probability," —you sound it out— "right? Have you not been doing that with me?" 
Spencer stops walking to help you pull your jacket back onto your bare shoulder. It's too cold to stay out here long. "It's different. You're different." 
"Oh." You smile at him dreamily. Eyes squinting until your lashes kiss in the corners, you smile like your lips have been stuck together with honey. You pout at him very gently, and he thinks you might want a kiss.
Spencer pats your back. "Come on. I'll take you home. You can sleep it off." 
"Can I come home with you?" 
He sees his car in the distance, a beacon of hope. "Yeah, if you want. But I don't have any pyjamas or anything for you." 
"Not yet," you say. 
Spencer goes pink to the ears, and unfortunately for him, you notice. You refuse to walk a step further, throwing heavy arms over his shoulders to beam at him eye to eye. Your fingers tangle gently into the ends of his hair and twist in circles that have butterflies exploding in his stomach. His breath catches when you tug on a strand, clearly bemused. 
"I really want to be your girlfriend." 
"I–" He swallows roughly. "I really want you to be my girlfriend." 
"Will you ask me?" 
"Tomorrow?" he asks delicately. He might be shy with you, but he has no qualms now showing you how vehemently he returns your affections, his arms curling slowly but surely behind your back. 
You fall into his arms for another hug. "Yesssss," you cheer under your breath. 
He sneaks a kiss against the shell of your ear. "Wanna go get something to eat first?" 
You gasp like you've been offered the world. "You really are the best boyfriend." 
3K notes · View notes
httpdwaekki · 23 days
Text
phobia | b.c.
summary: you have arachnophobia but luckily you had an aussie to help you with it.
wc: 1.1k
warnings: mentions of spiders! i tried not to get too specific but they are still mentioned heavily.
a/n: my first request ah! @anjian03 ty so much for the request, i hope i did this justice :) i honestly might write a felix version in the in the future so definitely let me know if that's something you'd want :) anyway! i hope you guys enjoy and as always, drink water, eat something, and take ur meds. <3
my library
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
(pictures are not mine! credit to owners!)
you never liked bugs, never have, never will. spiders in particular, terrify you. no matter how small, what color, you will always hate them. naturally, you fell in love with an australian, which was both a blessing and a curse. 
now chan is well aware of your dislike of bugs, even more so of your phobia of spiders. so when he invited you to go back home with him, you were hesitant. of course you wanted to meet his family and berry but all you could think about is the 8 legged arachnids that reside in his home country.
chan could see the immediate panic that took over your features. you were well aware of how irrational your fear was, and you definitely didn’t want it to get in the way of you meeting your boyfriend’s family but you couldn’t help it.
“you’re worried about the spiders right?” you nod, picking at the now chipped nail polish that covered each finger. you were sat across from him on your couch, head hung in embarrassment. he gently grabbed your hand, rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand. 
“hey,” he shakes your hand gently, making you to look at him, “i get it, okay? you don’t have to go if it’ll stress you out too much. you don’t have too, okay?” you quickly shake your head.
“no no, i wanna come.” you reassure him. “are you sure?” he asks, searching your eyes for uncertainty. “yes, i wanna meet berry and your family and see where you grew up.” you nod smiling, squeezing his hand. 
“okay, i’ll be there the whole time okay?” he reassures you. you lean forward, placing a loving kiss to his plush lips, before wrapping your arms around his neck. “i know channie,” placing a soft kiss on his neck. “thank you.”
a few months later, chan finally has a break and you find yourself in the warm city of sydney, australia. you had been there for a few days, and it wasn’t as bad as you had imagined. you hadn’t even thought about the arachnids since meeting his family.
 simply focusing on chan enjoying the limited time he had home with his family. it was nice to see him so relaxed, and carefree, not worrying about deadlines or comebacks, just enjoying life.
and that’s exactly what he looked like now, playing with berry as you helped his mom clean up from the delicious dinner she had cooked. she was finishing washing the last of the dishes as you dried them. you both went back and forth, telling your own stories about chan, laughing and smiling at the precious boy in the next room.
after the dishes, she starts tying the bag in the trash can. you stop her, “oh, mrs.bang, i can grab that.” she quickly shakes her head. “no sweetheart, you’re a guest, i’ve got it.”  you shake your head right back. 
“please? you cooked all day and i think my mother would yell at me if she found out i didn’t do more to help.” you insisted, reaching for the bag. she relents, handing you the bag, “okay, you win, the trash is  just around the house, but make sure you put on the light. you never know what nasty buggers are running around out there.” she laughs.
your blood suddenly runs cold, a stark reminder of the things that made you scared to come here in the first place. you knew she was joking, just a light hearted comment but you couldn’t help but freeze.
she looks at you concerned, “are you okay?” you smile, nodding. “yes sorry, i’ll be right back.” you make a quick exit, finding the side door, making sure to flip the light switch first.
once outside of the door you take a moment to breathe. you look out to the australian sunset, trying to relax for a moment. it was still light out, but still dark enough to need the light. after a moment or two you finally move towards the trash cans.
unbeknownst to you, chan had made his way out to follow you. his mom asking him to check on you as you were taking a while, before making her way to her room. this set off silent alarms in chan’s head, as he was well aware of the presence of the specific 8-legged creatures that you loathed surrounding the trash bins.
as he made it to the door, he hears the unmistakable sound of your scream. he quickly yanks the door, yelling your name. you run into him, letting out another yelp. “hey hey, jagiya, it’s just me, it’s chan, you’re okay.” you shove your face into his neck, hands shaking as you wrap your arms around him.
he wraps his arms around you, rubbing your back, glancing behind you where he finds the trash bag on the floor, and the dreaded 8-legged creature on the handle to the trash bin. he places a kiss to the side of your head, “are you okay to wait for me by the door?’ he whispered into your ear. you nod your head, slowly releasing him, making your way back to the door.
he quickly moves to grab the bag, brushing the spider off with the bag before lifting the lid, placing the bag inside. he makes his way back to you, opening the door, ushering you inside. “come on, let’s wash our hands quick, then we can lay down.” you nodded, making your way to the sink.
the shaking slowly subsides as you slowly wash your hands. chan notices the slight shake stil present in your hands. he softly wraps his soap covered hands over yours, stopping your movements. “you okay baby?” he leans over, whispering into your ear. you nod your head, you’re face heating up in embarrassment. “i’m sorry.”
he shakes his head, quickly rinsing your hands before drying them. he places his hands to your warm cheeks, your eyes shiny as they look into his. “you have nothing to apologize for, okay?” you slightly nod your head.
“you got scared, it happens it’s okay.” his thumbs gently rubbing your soft cheeks. “i’m so proud of you, my brave baby.” your cheeks become even warmer. you let out a giggle, dropping your head, shaking it a bit. 
“i’m serious bubs, i know you were scared to go out there but you still went.” you smile, placing a kiss on the side of his mouth. “ come on, let’s go lay down.” he grabs your hand, leading you to his childhood room, where you spent the rest of the night, cuddled together, looking at chan’s babies pictures.
you may never get over your phobia but at least you have chan with you to help you.
do not repost
595 notes · View notes