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#it starts falling apart when you think about it for 2 minutes or from a non-english perspective
captainsophiestark · 3 days
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Smooth Talker Part 2
Poe Dameron x Reader
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Masterlist - Part 1 - Join My Taglist!
Requested on Wattpad! I normally don't do Part 2 requests, but an idea for this one popped immediately into my head and I couldn't let it go :)
Summary: Through a truly ridiculous series of events, you've managed to become a *triple* agent for the Resistance, being sent back to your original base by the First Order as a trusted spy after spending time as a Resistance spy in First Order territory. You can't wait to be back home, and even better, to tell your boyfriend Poe Dameron just what level of bs you managed to pull off.
Word Count: 1,522
Category: Fluff, Humor
Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.
I tried to keep a smile off my face as I stood, back straight and hands behind my back, facing General Armitage Hux. He'd been my main point of contact for the past few months after he'd been the one to recruit me as a First Order spy, and the fact that I hadn't laughed in his face a single time that he'd been telling me all about what being a spy would entail was a true testament to my skills.
I'd been undercover for the Resitance deep in First Order territory when he'd come knocking with a bunch of soldiers because he suspected my apartment was a hideout for Resistance sympathizers and activity. And, to be fair, he was right. Poe Dameron, my boyfriend, had snuck in for a rare visit and left literal minutes before Hux and his friends showed up. But I'd done such a good job answering their interrogation questions that, instead of arresting me, they'd recruited me.
Now, after months of preparing, I was being sent on my way to find and infiltrate the Resistance's base. I'd need to be careful not to blow my true allegiances, but once I got out of range of the First Order and was only expected to make occasional reports, I couldn't help thinking this would be my easiest assignment yet.
"Are we clear on communication protocols and the kind of information we're most interested in?" asked Hux as I tuned back in to the end of his lecture. I nodded once, curtly.
"Yes sir."
"Good. Then best of luck to you. You're doing your Order a great service."
I saluted, fast and sharp, exemplifying the unshakeable, blind commitment they looked for in their recruits. I held it for a few moments, then Hux nodded and I let my hand fall back to my side.
"I look forward to hearing what you have to report."
The march through the rest of the ship felt like a dream. I was being dropped fairly far from anywhere the First Order suspected of being a Resistance base to make sure no one would be suspicious of me, but I was still closer to home than I'd been in a long, long time. I could swear I felt the latent tension of the past six months ease out of my shoulders as I watched the ship disappear without me on it.
I took a moment to enjoy the feeling, then quickly got my head back in the game. There was still a chance, however slim, that Hux was playing me. If I wasn't careful, I could accidentally lead the First Order right back to the Resistance base they'd spent so long looking for.
I spent the next week doing my due diligence, making sure no one was following me and that I didn't have a tracker on me anywhere that I didn't know about. I sent a brief update to Hux through the convoluted method we'd come up with for contact, telling him that I had a lead and was going to follow up on it, and then I finally started the trek home.
When the entrance to the Resistance base finally came into view another full week and change later, my heart leapt. It was vital to my cover that I didn't let myself dwell on how much I'd missed this place while living among First Order personnel, but now that I was finally safe, I almost starting crying at the sight of it. I hadn't really realized how badly I'd wanted to be back here until now.
I walked the rest of the way up with a massive smile on my face, scanning the crowd for anybody I recognized. I got some strange looks, largely from newer recruits who didn't know me, but then finally I found one of the people I was most hoping to see.
Poe Dameron stood just across the hanger with his back to me. I grinned and started walking towards him with purpose, and after a moment, the person he was talking to noticed me and pointed over Poe's shoulder. Poe turned around with a frown that quickly changed into a confused but beaming smile, then started rushing towards me. I sped up too, until we were running towards each other across the hanger. As soon as I got in reach, Poe picked me up and spun me around in a tight hug, then set me back on the ground only to pull me into a searing kiss. I kissed him back just as hard, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and tangling my hands in his hair. I ended up breaking the kiss as a joyful laugh bubbled out of me; finally we were together without the looming threat of a First Order solider at the door ruining the moment.
"What... what are you doing here?" he asked, still smiling and completely breathless. I laughed again, joy overflowing in my chest as I looked at the man I loved.
"You'll absolutely never believe it," I said with a crooked smile. He raised an eyebrow at me, so I continued. "I've been recruited as a spy for the First Order."
"...You what?"
I laughed as Poe stared at me, brow furrowed as he tried to figure out what was happening. I couldn't exactly blame him–I still wasn't totally sure how I'd managed to get here.
"It's the craziest story you'll ever hear, and I promise to tell you every last detail later tonight. But right now, I should really go and see Leia."
"Now hold on a minute," Poe said, grabbing my waist and pulling me a little tighter to him. As if I'd be moving away from him voluntarily any time soon. "You have to give me a little more than that, first."
I smiled. "Okay, but you have to promise not to freak out when I tell you the first part."
Poe frowned, looking incredibly nervous, but nodded anyway.
"Alright..."
"So remember the last time I saw you, when you visited me in the apartment where I was hiding out to spy on the First Order? Well that same night, right after you left, General Hux and Kylo Ren themselves came knocking with a whole host of troopers at their backs."
"They WHAT?"
"You said you wouldn't freak out! Just listen."
I could see Poe practically vibrating and fuming with delayed panic and about a thousand questions, but to his credit, he managed to hold them back with nothing more than slightly tightening his grip on my waist.
"Well, they asked me a bunch of questions because they thought a Resistance spy base was operating out of my apartment-" Poe winced, but I ignored him and kept going. "-and I answered the questions well enough that they decided I was clearly a loyal member of the First Order with a passion for them and their rule. So, instead of arresting me, they recruited me to be a spy! Of course I said yes, and now I'm here as a triple agent, so I can feed them a bunch of bad information, or information that comes just a little too late for them to do anything about it while still being correct, all while being here again, on base with you and everybody else."
Poe huffed a disbelieving laugh, just staring and blinking at me for a few moments while he processed. Then a smile spread across his face again, even as he shook his head.
"That is... incredible. I can think of about a thousand other things I could say about it too, but... just wow."
"I know," I said with a grin. I stepped back slightly out of his embrace, then took his hand instead. At some point we would have to go do separate activities on base, but I didn't plan on spending a second away from Poe right now until I had to. "Now, I need to go talk to Leia and Major Ematt about all this. Come with me?"
Poe matched my grin, still shaking his head but letting me pull him out of the hanger base with me.
"Of course. I'd follow you anywhere, you absolute maniac."
I just laughed as Poe fell into step beside me, our hands still held tight as we marched through the base. By no means was this war over; we still had so much work to do, and being back on base didn't even come close to putting me out of danger. But now I was in danger and fighting alongside Poe and all the people I cared about, while still putting my skills as a spy to full use. It was the best of both worlds, and in the middle of fighting back against an Empire that just didn't want to stay down, victories like this alongside loved ones were the things most worth fighting for.
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Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989
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chososlilprincess · 5 months
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pt. 2 of Virgin Choso!! if you havent read the first part read it here and part 3
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
Virgin Choso who looks at your abandoned bag in the corner of his small living room. Standing in the little apartment he moved into recently, chewing on his lip anxiously. Should he text you? you’d realize it was gone eventually, and when you give him a call to tell him, he could pretend he hadn’t seen it. It’s not because he doesn’t want to talk to you, the opposite really, but hes scared. He’d probably be weird and act awkward if you two were ever alone, if you came to retrieve your bag from his home.
You and Yuji had been at his apartment earlier that day to help him move his furniture around. He’d heard the doorbell ring and when you had finally ascended to the top floor were he resided, Yuji had given him a brotherly hug, patting his back. And you,
You.
it’s the second time he sees you after he realised what he felt for you, and it’s getting increasingly hard to be around you. Especially when you keep putting on those adorable little outfits. He can’t focus, he can hardly breathe. Yuji, that idiot, knows that fact better than even Choso himself, seeing right through his brother. Which is why the boy had invited you today to help him. To torture Choso, to make him crack.
But Choso wasn’t weak. He could hold his composure. Even when Yuji walks past him and whispers, trying to hold his laugh, “maybe cut back on the staring a little today, she might actually notice this time,”
And now he’s here, all his furniture in the right places, but your bag in the wrong. You’d went to the gym he remembers, which is why you had it with you.
When his phone rings a minute later, his heart starts beating faster, already? he calms down a little when he sees it’s Yuji who’s calling, but his ease is cut short when he answers.
“hello?”
“hi Choso, it’s me,” its you. He can hear people talking and laughing in the background, probably you and Yuji’s new friends from your Jujutsu College. “my phone went out so i borrowed Yuji’s to call you,” you say sweetly, and before you can continue, a voice way louder than yours comes through the line, “she forgot her bag on purpose!!” Yuji shouts from next to you, before someone in the group can shut him up,
“not true…” you say awkwardly and laugh “but uh, is it okay if i come and get it tomorrow after my shift? it’s gonna be a little late though, sorry for the trouble,” he can feel that tugging in his heart, he’s excited to see you again, even if it’s only because of your forgetfulness. “it uh…it is no trouble,” he says quickly,
“thank you Choso…ill see you tomorrow,” and with that you hang up, and Choso is left with the silence of his apartment and the bustle outside of tokyo city.
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
He’s sitting on the couch with your bag propped up next to him, did you really leave your bag here on purpose? why would you have done that? did you want to see him too? he sighs, wishful thinking.
He stands up from the couch and the movement makes your unzipped bag fall to the floor with a thud.
He looks to the floor, bends down to put the bag back when-
oh. fuck.
Laying on the ground is your used gym clothes, a big hoodie, some shorts, a top and also…
a pair of your used panties.
he freezes, his dick jumping at the sight alone. Theyre baby blue, with a little white bow on the waistband. fuck. no. don’t.
he picks them up.
He’s only just learned about sex, about relationships and about…pleasuring himself. And he’s already a massive pervert.
what would you think of him if you knew? if you could see him right now? desperately jerking himself off on the couch, whines and groans spilling from his lips, drool sliding down his mouth. your perfect little panties wrapped around his hard cock.
He watches as his pre cum makes a mess in them. he wants to make a mess with you. He wants to see you wearing nothing else than those same panties around him,
he takes them away from his dick and brings them to his nose. And when he breathes in the scent of your pussy, He cums so hard his mind turns blank.
And it hits him when he comes down, that hes disgusting. And your panties are ruined.
how can you make him feel like this. Without any cursed energy. without beating him into the ground. youre just existing, And that fact alone makes him feel so…weak? why does he feel weak?
He decides then that he needs to tell you, Its been building up in his chest for months. He needs to tell you that hes in love with you and that he would do anything for you.
he needs to tell you he wants to bury his face in your little cunt.
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thx to everyone whos been leaving notes<33 part 3 coming!!
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lvlyghost · 10 months
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The Things I Never Said
Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader
Summary: Simon had told you he never wanted to be a dad, so when the inevitable happens you run.
Word Count: 2.2k
Tw: angst, fluff, ooc simon(? descriptions of pregnancy and panic attacks, medical inaccuracies, slightly suggestive but nothing too explicit, this isn't proofread; i think that's it?✨
A/N: omg i couldn't stop thinking about this so i had to write it! I'm just feral for dad!simon loosely connected to this bc this is where the idea came from. Hope y'all enjoy it🫰🏻💛🦄
Masterlist✨| Part 2
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You're shaking by the time you're out of the bathrooms. There's no doubt. You think with slight tremble on your lower lip. It almost feels aa of the world around you is closing in. Suffocating your lungs. Your vision blurs, when you toss the pregnancy test in the trash can.
This can't be happening. Not to you.
It's not that you didn't want to have kids.
But Simon didn't.
At this point you're sobbing uncontrollably, gasping for air. It's a good thing no one comes to this part late at night. The only moment you could find peace and solace. Sliding down the wall, hiding your face in your hands. How could you let this happen? You should've been more careful.
Your mind goes back to that day when neither of you cared about the consequences. Caught up in the moment, tearing each other's clothes; eager to be together. You hadn't seen Simon in two months when he was deployed to Serbia and you had to stay behind. Being both in the military meant knowing the risks. Every time could be the last time. You heard things about that specific mission. He got injured. You remember the gnawing fear clawing at your chest. And then there he was, knocking on your door as soon as they landed. His shoulder wrapped around bandages. He kissed you hard, desperately.
Hitting the mattress with you on top of him, not wanting to hurt him anymore. The sweet things he murmured in your ears, hands intertwined as you fall apart together.
You love him.
He cares for you.
But even if he felt slightly the same way about you, it wouldn't be enough.
Simon had... traumas. A tragic story of his own. You heard him talk about it late at night when he couldn't sleep. Those demons that plagued his mind, his dreams... and you listened. That's all you could do.
Offer a hand to the man that had saved you over and over again. And somewhere along the lines you fell.
And you fell hard.
Somewhere between dark nights and shared kisses at dawn.
-
You didn't get any sleep last night.
Your mind is still spinning with the anxiety. The morning sickness that started to disrupt as soon as you woke up. Red, puffy eyes that you try to dissimulate by washing your face hoping it goes away.
You get dressed feeling devastated, knowing that you'll have to face him as soon as you enter the training room. He's in charge. The mere thought makes you want to throw up. But you leave the bedroom nonetheless. Walking down the hallway feeling your hands sweating and your ragged breathing.
When you finally open the doors you're fifteen minutes late. That alone will earn you a punishment.
It's almost as if he feels your presence, immediately finding your form when you enter, his jaw tightens. Simon doesn't like this. But as long as you're under his command you get equal treatment or else, he'd be in problems. Both, would be in problems.
"Bit late Sergeant." He grumbles, emphasizing the last word staring directly in your eyes. Ghost is perceptive and is aware that something is wrong, but doesn't comment on it... yet. "Fifty push-ups. Start sparring when you're done."
You swallow down saliva, feeling your throat constrict.
Fuck, fuck. Don't cry. Not right now.
This whole situation has you sensitive.
You start, concentrating on doing the push-ups. Hearing the distant voice of him echoing around the room, sometimes you think he's closer to where you are then he's gone, but his gaze never leaves you. It's almost sinful how good he looks in that tight green army t-shirt and cargo pants
Your arms are sore and wobbly by the time you finish. Standing up you fight a wave o nausea, closing your eyes so hard you see white dots behind your eyelids.
"You alright?" It's Kyle's hand on your shoulder what brings you back, your eyes fluttering open and find him looking at you, eyebrows slightly raised.
You give him a small smile and a nod.
"Just tired that's all. Didn't get much sleep last night." You divert your gaze where the rest are beginning to spar. "How mad is Ghost?"
Gaz chuckles.
"I wouldn't call that mad. I think he's worried. You look like shite, dear."
"Oh." You say.
Gaz prompts you to the other side to join the training. Everyone's gathered around the training mat. Soap is kicking a soldier's ass. What was his name again? You forgot.
A gentle brush on your skin and then delicate fingers wrap your arm. You freeze, Simon's feather touch sends goosebumps all over your body. You turn your face upward to acknowledge him. His deep blue eyes soften when you look at him.
"Is everything okay Sergeant?" He asks. No. He demands.
You open your mouth and then close it. That's a question you don't know yourself.
I wish. You want to say.
But nothing will ever be okay after last night.
"I... I- didn't get much sleep, Sir. That's all."
Simon sighs but doesn't insist. He just nods, accepting your answer for now, once the training is done he'd talk to you. "You're up." He instructs.
Hand to hand to combat has never been your strongest suit but you do it nonetheless. Informatics on the other hand... you're the best of the best. That's why you're here, why you're a part of the task force.
Ghost stands within your range of vision in a way that you can see that he's there even when you're fighting.
You start although you're not in your best shape. Your heart is racing but not for the adrenaline. Your mind is fuzzy and your stomach churns. The panic is starting to break loose on you. You recognize the signs. You barely dodge the man's punch, this can't be called sparring. You're merely deflecting his hits, defending yourself.
Get a fucking grip!
Soap and Gaz look at each other. Then at Ghost who's clenching his fists, looking like he's about to jump between the two and kill the man. They get ready just in case something goes sideways.
You see his fist coming to your face, you take a step back but it grazes your left cheek. Someone in the distance swears and it's enough to distract you, the next blow goes to your gut. He doesn't even hit you with full force, noticing your lack of response he refrains as much as he can but it connects with your abdomen nevertheless.
It suffocates you. Brings you to your knees spitting saliva and gasping for air. You hear the soldier's frantic apologies. You cough trying to breathe but you just can't. It hurts you.
In a quick move Ghost is kneeling beside you, eyes scanning your body for external injuries. Anything.
"Hey... hey, kid! Look at me!" He orders. You can't, mostly because you're gasping for air, coughing, and the pain in your stomach. Ghost grabs your face seeing the tears collecting in the corner of your eyes. Another wave of nausea hits you and you spit out whatever comes out of your mouth. Simon takes you in his arms lifting you and runs to the infirmary, gritting his teeth. His steps echoing in the empty hallway as he bursts the doors of the med wing open.
-
"Captain..." you greet him as soon as you walk into his office, closing the door behind you with a soft click. Price looks at you, arms crossed. The bucket hat resting on his head. He's dead serious.
"Does he know?" He interrogates with that deep voice of his. It's only been an hour since the incident. Price had to do all in his power to keep Ghost busy. It nearly costs him a limb and a punch to his face. There's only so much he can do.
"No." You murmur, looking down to your feet.
"Jesus, kid." He pinches the bridge of his nose. His head was pounding already. This wasn't good. For any of them. John had decided to turn a blind eye on the situation. As long as it didn't interfere with their duties. Now? He shakes his head. Price walks towards you, the youngest of his team and a valuable asset. You were important to him, to everyone in the 141; to Simon in a very different way. "I'm putting you on medical leave. You must take care of your health, your body. I'll see what I can do, yeah? And for the love of God, talk to Simon."
-
You don't.
And that's because you're terrified. As soon as you left Price's office you ran to your room throwing your belongings in a duffel bag. You needed time to think. Of course you'd tell Simon.
Just not right now.
The disapproving stare of the doctor was enough to make you feel bad about hiding your pregnancy from him and then your Captain. You bite your lip and head out, the taxi driver is waiting already so you hop in, wishing to get some time alone. Clear your head and then find the best way to tell Simon about this.
It's raining outside by the time you're in your apartment. You've had time to get a quick shower and take the ibuprofen for your sore body. Your hands run absentmindedly to your stomach, soothing the skin but flinching when you press too hard. You should've stayed at base and talk to him after what happened.
But you're scared of the outcome.
By this time Simon must've found out you're gone. You won't blame him if he hates you. After all you ran away from him, like a coward.
Pouring some tea on a mug you hear the sound of keys jingle, and the footsteps followed by a large shadow that towers above you. Blond hair and hard eyes contemplating you, the mask is gone...
Holy shit. You think.
The only thing that Simon finds comfort in is gone. There's something about him not hiding behind the balaclava that sets deep in your heart. As if he were baring himself to you. Not that you hadn't seen his face before; that's exactly why this is more meaningful. It's serious. He chose to show you how vulnerable you can make him.
"Why?" His stern voice sends shivers down your spine. "I went to check on you and the first thing they say is that you're gone." His lips are pressed in a thin line.
"Simon, it's not what you're thinking..."
"Then bloody tell me what is it." He seethes, taking a step closer. "Was already losing my fucking mind over that bastard hitting you and suddenly you're gone?" He shakes his head. "Had I known you weren't going to fight back..."
"I'm pregnant." You blurt out, interrupting his talk. Simon's jaw clenched, halting and freezing on his spot. "And I'm sorry I didn't come to you as soon as I found out but I was scared." Your lips quiver and you hold back a sob, but unable to do much about the tears. "I was scared to tell you because I know you never wanted any of this, I failed to you. I couldn't sleep, I was panicking and the thought of losing you... I needed time to figure out how to tell you." Simon is silent, he doesn't move nor blinks. He just stares. Memories of his time with his father flooding his mind. He never wanted kids. That's true.
Seeing you there, in front of him. Choking on your words, crying because you thought he'd abandon you like you were nothing? Bloody fucking Christ it breaks his heart. Very few things had that effect on Simon. He had made you fearful of facing this on your own. Did you think you were just his friend with benefits? Someone he'd come to whenever he wanted to get laid? Hadn't you seen the way his eyes roamed over you whenever you were around? Never fucking heard the despair in his voice when you got shot during that black ops in Afghanistan? How he seemed to loom over your presence if some pathetic muppet tried flirting with you? The nights spent in his bedroom, limbs tangled hearing you speak about your day? The mission when he finally realized he was completely and utterly fucking enamored with you?
That time he wouldn't leave your bedside because you were severely wounded and comatose?
"I am not my old man, kid." He states after a few minutes of silence. "And if it wasn't clear already, I'd do anything for you. I don't know shite about being a parent but I'll try, yeah? For you..." he clears his throat. This was as complicated for him as it was for you. "For both of you, I'll try." The words sound strange coming out of his mouth. You close the space between you and hug him, inhaling his scent. He kisses your temple while rubbing soft circles on your back. Relief washes over your body and the tears stop gradually, until it's just the two holding one another during a raging storm of feelings and nature outside.
Soon the tension, the doubts and the anxiety are replaced with reassurance and loving words.
Promises.
Things you never thought you'd hear.
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eternalxvenus · 1 month
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⇢ ˗ˏˋ broken promises pt. 2 ࿐ྂ
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summary: Rafe promised to take you out and spend your birthday with you, but you don’t hear from him all day and then suddenly he shows up at your door trying to explain. (this is part 2 to the birthday girl angst blurb! i changed the title for the series so it was more appealing)
cw: mentions of drug use, angst, nothing crazy (yet lmao)
wc: 1.2k
notes: i'm excited to write this since its my first series! lmk if there's anything you guys would wanna see in future chapters :)
previous chapters: part 1
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You wake up to your alarm droning on annoyingly and feel around aimlessly with your eyes closed to turn it off. Once you had finally woken up on your own accord, you realized you should talk to Rafe. You hadn't spoken to him or left your house the last few days. Obviously, you missed him, but you just felt so hurt and angry with him.
After getting ready and using makeup to look a little more alive and less blotchy from crying so much, you decided you'd go up to Tannyhill to try and talk to Rafe. You left your house, hopped on your bike, and started towards the estate. The whole ride there, you just kept going over what you wanted to say but nothing seemed right. Before you knew it, you were at the front entrance.
You walked inside and heard voices in the distance coming from upstairs. Once you made your way upstairs, you heard the voices more clearly coming from Rafe's room. It was Rafe and another person whose voice you couldn't pinpoint.
"Come on, man you gotta understand where I'm comin' from. I've just been stressed out. Nothing a good time won't fix."
You looked into the room and saw Rafe sitting with some guy you've never seen. There was a table in between them that had some rolled-up bills and coke sitting on it.
You walked inside the room, still unnoticed until you spoke. "Hey, Rafe."
Both of their heads snapped in your direction, and Rafe immediately shot up, walking towards you.
"Shit... I uh- I didn't know you were coming over." He looked back at the man who just sat there unbothered. "Barry, can you uh give us a minute..."
"So let me get this straight, you went to a party and got high, missed my entire birthday, and after I tell you I'm pissed off your next line of action is to get high again with your drug dealer, right?"
Before Rafe could speak, Barry grabbed his stuff and started walking out. "A'ight man hit me up when y'all are done dealing with this shit."
Rafe waited until he thought Barry was far enough before closing the door and speaking, "Can you blame me? I don't hear from you for days so I assumed you didn't wanna be with me anymore! I tried to talk to you and you straight up ignored me."
"I was angry Rafe! I just needed some time to myself. That doesn't mean I'm breaking up with you and it doesn't mean you should start doing drugs again when that is quite literally what we fought about." 
This definitely wasn't how you imagined this conversation going. You didn't want to argue with him but your pride wasn't going to let you just back down.
"If you wanted space you could've told me," he sighed. "And I am sorry that I got high at that party and I'm sorry I missed your birthday okay? I want to make it up to you."
You walked over to the bed and sat down for a moment with your head in your hands. You loved Rafe, you really did. But you didn't want him falling into his old habits and lying to you about it.
You both sat there in silence as you thought about what you should do and what you should say.
"Rafe I... I think we should just take some time apart. Get our heads straight and figure out what we want-"
He walked over and sat next to you his eyes wide. "Baby I want you, I want to be with you."
"I wanna be with you too, Rafe, but I have conditions. I don't want you doing coke anymore. I don't like the person you are when you get like that. I know you get stressed and feel like it's your only option but you have me. Or maybe try weed and see how that works for you. I also don't want you hanging with Barry anymore. Non-negotiables."
He nods "I swear I'll work on it and I'll talk to Barry. I swear."
You stand up from the bed getting ready to go out the door. "Rafe... I'm gonna go stay with my parents on the mainland for a few days. I'll be in contact but please try your best to just leave me be. Get clean, for good, and I'll let you know when I'm back and we can figure everything out. Okay?"
He shakes his head. You can see that he's angry and confused, your heart just aches. "The mainland? What- why? Just stay here, I don't understand-"
"Please, Rafe. This is what we have to do okay?"
He took a few deep breaths and ran his hands through his hair. "Okay... okay. When you get back, I'll have made it up to you. Just promise me we aren't over." 
You could see the tears that formed in his eyes and had to fight back your own. "We aren't over just yet." You gave him a kiss on the cheek before leaving his room and heading home.
⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑
You were finally off the ferry and on the mainland to stay with your parents. You really wanted to talk to your best friend to get advice so you asked her to pick you up. By the time you reached your house, she was all caught up. Your parents weren't home so you both went straight up to your childhood bedroom.
"Damn... I didn't think he got down like that." Niki looked at you slightly surprised. "Honestly though, it sounds like does care about you, even if he did fuck up."
"Yeah, I know he cares I just... I don't wanna have to worry about shit like this. Whenever he's all coked up he makes irrational and bad decisions. I'm just worried he'll do something and end up in jail or worse."
"You just have to let him know that. Make sure he knows your anger comes from a place of care. If he feels like you're just judging him, it'll probably piss him off."
You sigh and groan into your pillow. "You're right, thanks Niki."
"Don't mention it. Now, let me catch you up on the mainland gossip!" she squealed.
⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑
Niki had gone home and you were getting into bed, ready to sleep after what felt like an exceptionally long day, when your phone chimed. You looked and saw you had a text from Rafe.
Rafe: hey I just wanted to make sure you made it to the mainland safely.
You: yes I did, i'm at my parent's house, thanks for asking.
Rafe: of course, goodnight
You: goodnight
Placing your phone on the dresser, you're thankful he doesn't push the conversation further. You decide you'll only stay here for three days before going back to the island to figure things out with Rafe. You just hope he can work on staying clean and that you can go back to being together like normal. 
As you closed your eyes, ready for sleep, you heard another chime from your phone. You groaned before picking it up to check.
Topper: hey we need to talk, it's about Rafe.
part 3
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likes, comments, and blogs are greatly appreciated!
taglist: @readingsmuts @1aarii1 @bingbongbum @stargirlsturniololover @babygirl229 @poisonedsultana @rafescamshoe
864 notes · View notes
bunny584 · 9 days
Note
Thinking about our boys this fine evening,,
What would their reactions be if you bought them a present?
TURNING TABLES
A/N: My love, I’ve been sitting on this ask for MONTHS. Just chomping at the bit to do it justice. I hope it’s everything you wanted. Enjoy this fluffy fluffy drabble with a lil sprinkle of angst 💕
C/W: Nada, the boys just being adorable. Established relationship. I hope this gives y’all as many delulus as it did me.
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GETO
“You’re never going to guess what I got you for your birthday, dimples!” 
Your pretty finger digs into the crater in his left cheek that you’re so fond of. 
Suguru swallows a grin. 
Two things. 
One, you’re the only human in this lifetime and the next, who could call him that and wake up the next morning. 
Two, he knows exactly what you got him. 
Because you’re oblivious in a way that made him fall for you in the first place. 
To you, birthdays are sacred. And must be treated like National holidays. All week you’ve been padding around the apartment, glee in your footsteps. 
You’ve been staring at him. A whole galaxy in your eyes. Precious little giggles escape you at every turn. Because there’s a secret only you are privy to. 
Or so you think. 
Suguru has heard you badgering someone over the phone. 
“No no, it can’t be purple. His favorite color isn’t purple. It’s indigo. The shade between royal blue and violet. Blue. Indigo. Violet. ROY-G-BIV. Rainbows. Indigo.”
You almost flung your laptop off the balcony   two mornings ago. 
Instead of just closing the browser displaying shipment confirmation for the silver analogue watch with the indigo face and chrome bezel. You tossed the entire laptop away and Suguru had to lunge to catch it from shattering.
You are clumsy. 
And terrible at surprises. 
And he adores you. 
More than he knew possible. 
Suguru shrugs out of his grey peacoat. Dinner was phenomenal, yes. But now he needs you on his tongue for dessert. 
He watches you step out of your heels, somewhat upset you didn’t let him take them off for you. 
“On the couch and close your eyes!!” You squeal before disappearing into your bedroom. 
“Yes ma’am.” Low chuckle spilling from his lips. 
You’ll be the one following orders in a second. 
Suguru does as he is instructed. Back against the plush couch. Legs spread a little further than usual. 
You’ve had him stiff as a board the whole night. Doting over him. Petting his thigh. Pretty lips full of quick kisses and “Happy Birthday baby” and “I love you.” He almost took you at the dinner table. 
But he’s a gentleman. 
At least, before you get behind closed doors. 
“Are you ready for me, birthday boy?” You call out. And your voice alone strips him of manners. 
“I’m ready to be inside you, gorgeous.” Suguru palms the length of his shaft. 
“Suguru!!! Behave.”
In a matter of seconds, your full body weight lands on his lap. You straddle him and his hands fly to your rounded hips. 
You are wearing significantly less clothes than you were 2 minutes ago. 
Suguru eyes flare open. The zipper on his suit pants nearly breaks. 
“Ohhh, my pretty girl.” 
His eyes violate every inch of your negligée. Lacy. Delicate. Riding the gentle dips and curves of your beautiful frame. Saliva pools in his mouth. You have no idea what he’s going—
“Eyes closed!” Your tiny palm can barely span his face. 
“Alright, alright.” Suguru hikes you further onto his hips. His rod thundering against his fabric. 
“Before you start, baby. Reach into my jacket pocket for me?” 
“What?” Suguru always loved how pretty you sound when you’re shocked. 
“Do it.” 
Your fingers scramble to follow his order. Always so compliant. His name, tangled with an airy little gasp escapes next. 
“Suguru Geto, what is this?!” 
Eyes still closed, Suguru flashes a mischievous grin. You’re so pretty when you’re stern with him. You punish (reward) him with a quick slap on his chest. 
Suguru pulls his lids open. He finds you holding 2 nearly identical boxes. A bigger one in the right, a demure one in the left. 
You’re flushed up to your ears and Suguru hasn’t ever seen a woman so beautiful. 
“What is this?” You probe again, eyes glossed over. 
Suguru gently works the smaller box out of your hand. 
“A present,” he plants a chaste kiss on your pouty little lips. 
“But it’s your birthday. And I wanted to surprise you. I saw this—“
“—silver analog watch with an indigo face and chrome bezel, I know baby.” Suguru’s lips find your flushed, warm cheeks. 
“Suguru…”
“So I got one for you too.” He opens the smaller box, just as you reveal his surprise. 
Yours is daintier. Scaled down to your small wrist. Both of your initials inscribed at the base of your watch. 
“Baby.”
Mist coats your eyes the way it does. The way your love coats him. In all places. All at once. Gentle. Refreshing.
A blessing. 
“You are the love of my life. In this lifetime and the next. Thank you for the birthday gift, sweet girl.”
                                 ——
GOJO
“Satoru, Jesus Chri—are you kidding me right now?” 
“What’s the matter, baby?” 
Your boyfriend was born with a silver spoon and a silver tongue. 
An expert at rolling, whipping and twisting words until they’re saltwater taffy. Sweet on the mouth. Sticky in reality. And at its worst, kryptonite to the person consuming them. 
As if he didn’t just steal the pink satin bow, from your head. And your hair falls in a slow cascade around your face. 
Satoru slides into the seat across the dinner table. Candlelight kissing his high cheekbones. Tonight makes it three years from the day he asked you to be his. 
Not that it matters, really. Because time crumbles to stardust around him. 
Every minute, every second with Satoru feels like the first. Your heart can’t tell the difference, and you’ve stopped trying to. 
A mischievous grin reaches his 10-carat diamond eyes. Razor sharp, and a reminder to everyone within a 1 mile radius that he’s not of this world. 
“You’re gorgeous.” Satoru toys with your hair tie. Deftly knotting it into a bow on his wrist — an egregious accessory next to his cuff links. 
“Save the pillow talk, Satoru!”
 “What?” He retorts, slinging his elbow over the back of his chair. Dangling his newest prized possession in your face. 
“Is it so bad that your boyfriend wants to feel close to you? You won’t let me sit next to you — I’m desperate.” 
You feign a gasp and lean over. Hushed because what you’re about to say is sacrilegious. 
“The Strongest Sorcerer in the modern era won’t survive sitting across from his girlfriend instead of next to her? Don’t let the bad guys hear that.” 
Bellowing laughter erupts. His base low and clear as an alpine lake. Your soprano a feather light harmony. 
Unbridled joy that is so unique to your relationship echoes throughout the dining room. Waiters and waitresses send fond smiles your way because the restaurant is dedicated to your celebration.
Satoru’s lips find the back of your hand. Embers from the candle catch the golden flecks of sunset in his Mediterranean Sea. Eyes with still waters, tonight.
He’s beautiful, your boy.
“Happy anniversary, princess.” 
“Happy anniversary, my love. I have something for you.”
 You glide your hand out of his grasp before he locks it in. Eyebrows already crawling to the center of his face. 
“I told you not to get—“
“Hush!” 
Always one to give, never one to receive, Satoru narrows his gaze. You know that look — he’s planning on tripling his retaliation gift. 
Satoru reluctantly takes the box out of your hands, while you watch on bated breath. 
His full lips hang open. Cotton candy dusting the tip of his nose, blooming to his ears. He’s never like this. Taken aback. Full of surprise.
Your full name tumbles out of his mouth. Almost foreign to your ears, but indulgent when coated in his rich, loving tone. 
Satoru pulls the leather bracelet out of the box. An infinity symbol woven in the center with your initials and his initials flanking either side. 
Before you get a chance to breathe again you’re standing in his arms. In the middle of the empty room. Face nearly eclipsed by his large hands.
“Baby,” Is all that escapes him before he crashes his lips onto yours. 
His tongue immediately begs for entry. Faint taste of mint chocolate ghosting your taste buds. 
It’s comforting. It’s dizzying. It’s Satoru.  
“L-let me explain the gift.” Panting out of his embrace. A light sheen already coating his eyes. He’s statuesque except for his thumbs that strum the apples of your cheeks. 
“Of course.”
“You’ll probably live forever, fighting demons and such—“
“Curses, baby. The demons are just personal.” He laughs. 
Satoru flashes another smile, but this one is blue. Melancholy in a way that tugs on your heart strings. You draw him in for a quick kiss. 
A mere bandaid on a lifetime of third degree burns.
“I know I’m not invincible like you and your friends. And you spend an inordinate amount of time dealing with the fact that I’m a Normie.” 
Satoru’s nose crinkles. “It’s not a crime to not see curses.” 
“I rather you not see them. I don’t want you subjected to that.” Grit in his voice and his eyes glaze over. You know that Satoru is watching gruesome memories on his mind’s big screen. 
“I know, handsome.”Your hand cups his face and he subconsciously unravels in it.  All but purring into your warmth. 
“But that doesn’t change the fact that the world needs you for far greater things than it needs me.” 
“Do not talk like—“
Your finger presses against his lips. Your boyfriend has a real habit of cutting you off and at this rate you two will never get to enjoy your dinner. 
A small chuckle escapes him. He’s sorry. And you continue.
“I got you that bracelet…because..” Suddenly shy under his undivided attention, you drop your gaze. Thumbing his new gift instead. 
You pause. He pauses. Everything around you halts.
Then it all tumbles out at once. 
“You’re it for me, Satoru. The One. Forever and always. In every life we’re reborn in, even if I can’t stick around as long as you can in this one.” 
Cheeks incinerated by your confession, you muster the courage to lock eyes with him once more. Nearly flat lined at what you see.
A crystal tear sliding down one side of his face. All of his sharp lines and angles, like melted butter. Mouth ajar. Moused. Imperfect. Like his heart is splayed open on his chest for the world to see. 
“Satoru…?”
Hearing his name jumpstarts his engine. Satoru lifts you into his arms and strides toward the exit in milliseconds. 
You toss your head back. Full of breathy giggles because this is the man you know and love. The modus operandi that made you fall so deeply for him in the first place. 
“Dinner! Baby our dinner!” You squeal a little too late, given that he’s 4 more long strides away from the door. 
“It’s taken care of. I’ll have them send it to the house.” Eyes straight ahead. A man on a special grade mission.
The two of you come to an abrupt stop just shy of the front door. Satoru rakes his glassy eyes over your flushed face.
“I would die for you. You know that, right?” His voice cracks. Actively staving off the flood threatening the rim of his eyes. 
“You and me…you know that I…I lo—, I’ve…you’re the only…fuck.” 
Satoru draws in a frustrated sigh. Tossing his head to the side. Hopeful that looking at anything else in the room would make this easier.
 “You know why I cant.. I can’t say it baby I—“
“I know, Satoru. I know.” 
‘Because love is the most twisted curse of all.’
And he believes that the moment it falls off his tongue, you’ll be taken from him. 
Your lover’s presence is grandiose. Demanding. Loud. Noticed from miles away. Earth shifted on its axis when he was born. 
A loan from Heaven’s stash. He’s a gift to mankind and your personal Moon.
But his love is the opposite.
Found only in quiet moments. Moments when his shield, breast plate and sword clamor against the hardwood floor after saving lives time and time again. 
When you wake up to him staring at you, caressing your cheeks. A gentle wake up call because he needs a kiss. A temporary reprieve from his nightmares. The demons that haunt him day in and day out.
When he comes home early from every single mission. Just to get back to where his heart is. 
His love is woven into your satin pillow cases, that hold his triumphs with students, his frustration from work, his regrets. 
His love is painted on walls of your apartment. The walls that could barely contain his grief. Wails loud enough to shift earth’s tectonic plates. That heard him scream in your arms. For months. All because he lost his first love at his own hands. 
His love glows under the moonlight. When he is buried deep inside you. Rambling about giving you a son first, then a daughter. Because he has to teach his boy to be strong. Strong enough to keep up with him. Strong enough to watch the world burn for his sister if it has to. 
Satoru Gojo is not soft, but he loves you softly. 
Another tear glides down his porcelain skin. Somewhat ashamed that he can’t swipe it way with his hands full of you, he flashes a lopsided smile. It makes his otherwise ethereal coalescence of features so boyish. Tangible. 
Human. 
Satoru presses a salty kiss against your lips. And it’s the sweetest he’s ever tasted. Pulling away briefly, to affirm you in a way that only he can.
“Infinity, baby?”
“Infinity, baby.”
470 notes · View notes
puckinghischier · 7 days
Text
Suds n Sorrows
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Nico Hischier x fem!reader
summary: anon request for reader comforting nico after losing the last game of the season
notes: y’all i kinda love this one 🤭. me being a cancer, i’m patiently waiting for the day i can nurture and comfort nico. that’s all. hope you enjoy !!
(also, i used google translate for any german present in this fic, so if its wrong, oopsies)
[2.9k]
part 2 (18+)
~
You already felt terrible you were having to miss the last game of the season, but as you watch the clock hit zero on the screen of the tv in front of you, signifying another Devil’s loss, you really wished you could be there. You think about how defeated your boys look, not being able to secure one last win for the fans this season. You watch as they skate to the middle of the ice, thanking their fans with rounded shoulders and sad smiles on their faces.
You curse your professors, hating that their review schedules for finals fell right in the middle of the end of the hockey season. You were supposed to be there tonight, supporting your friends and boyfriend; but a last-minute email from a professor informing you of a mandatory review session, starting only an hour before puck drop, threw your plans out the window.
You pick up your phone to send Nico a quick text, telling him you love him and are proud of him no matter what. You know he won’t see it right away, with post-game interviews and the added responsibility of fan-appreciation activities, he won’t be home for another hour or two at the earliest. You turn the tv off, not wanting to see the dejected looks from the team any longer.
You go to the kitchen and start to busy yourself by making one of Nico’s favorite treats, wanting to give him something to smile about when he gets home. You make plans in your head to either make something or order something to take to the rest of the team tomorrow during their locker cleanout. Once you’ve finished the task at hand and cleaned the kitchen, you make your way back into the living room, figuring Nico will be home any minute.
You were scrolling through Instagram, lost in the comments on the Devil’s most recent post about the fans, when you heard the front door to your apartment open. You sat up, turning your body to face the entry way, watching Nico walk towards you. He dropped his bag as he reached the couch, wordlessly flopping down beside you, throwing his body half on top of yours. He buried his face in your neck, inhaling the comforting scent of your perfume, squeezing your body against his own.
“I’m so proud of you,” is the first thing you said to him, taking the beanie off of his head so you can run your fingers through his hair.
“Nothin’ to be proud of, Schatz. We lost. Didn’t you see?” You feel him mumble against your skin.
“Hey, now. No more pity party, alright? You still went out there and gave it everything you had. I’ll always be proud of you, win or lose,” you scold, hating when he doesn’t give himself credit for all the work he puts in for this team.
“Just wish we could’ve won one last one. For the fans. For the guys. For Jack.”
“How is he, by the way? You heard anything?” You ask about the middle Hughes, knowing how upset Nico was he wouldn’t be finishing the season with the rest of the team.
“Yeah, talked to him before the game. Sore, but good. Already trying to weasel his way back onto the ice, but Ellen has him under house arrest.”
You chuckle, causing Nico’s body to shake with yours, knowing how stubborn Jack can be.
“I swear, if he doesn’t just let himself rest and heal I’ll fly out to Michigan myself to babysit him,” you tell your boyfriend, earning a laugh in response.
The conversation falls silent soon after, the two of you just soaking in each other’s company. You had adjusted your bodies so Nico was fully laying on you now, one hand continuing to play with his hair, the other lightly tracing shapes up and down his back. You worry he’s fallen asleep until you feel him lift his head, resting his chin on your chest so he can look up at your face.
“Wanna talk about it?” You ask him, looking down at his soft, sad eyes.
“Not much to say. We lost. The game, the season, the cup. We just didn’t perform this year. Got a lot to work on going forward,” he shrugs, not meeting your eyes.
“Okay, when I asked if you wanted to talk about it, I didn’t mean give me locker room answers. I meant, do you want to talk about why you’re being so hard on yourself? Why you’re acting like you won’t ever play hockey again? I know how hard this is on you all, especially after the season you guys had last year, but not every year is a stellar year, Neeks. Sometimes you have to have a bad season before you know how to have a great one,” you pushed him off of you slightly, both of you sitting up so you can face each other.
“I know we can’t be great every year, Y/N, but I at least expected us to do as well as we did last year. Coming off of such an explosive season, even though we didn’t win the cup, I figured everyone would show up ready to go, ready to win some games. And then then everyone started getting injured, and the longer the season went on, something shifted. It’s like they gave up before we even got started. It’s like they didn’t even want it anymore!” Nico cries out, letting himself get worked up.
You simply nod, encouraging him to keep going, knowing he needs to get it out of his system.
“I just-“ he hesitates, calming himself from his outburst mere seconds ago. “I worry about who’ll be coming back next season. I like this team. I love these guys like they’re my brothers, and I wanted better for so many of them. Nothing is ever guaranteed in the league, and I just want to keep playing with this team. Tonight could’ve been the last time I ever stepped onto that ice with a few of them.” He continues, emotion so raw on his face you almost want to cry for him.
There it was. The real reason he’s so upset. You knew this was more than just a loss, even if it was a hard one. He hardly ever comes home and just allows the two of you to sit in silence, always going over what they could’ve done better, and what they need to work on in the future. He’s upset about losing his team. Nico always gets so attached to his players, wanting to give every person he plays with the best guidance and outcomes he can. You figure its why they made him captain.
“Oh Neeks,” you start, reaching out to grab his hands. “These guys love you, you know that, right? They want to do their best for you, always. You think they don’t beat themselves up for letting you down?” you pause, wanting your words to truly reach him. “But…you know this is always a possibility. Trades get made, contracts expire. It’s just part of the world you signed up for. I can guarantee you, nearly every one of these guys would come back next year if it was up to them. They love this team just like you do,” you reiterate, having been told this by his teammates more times than you can count. “You gave them everything you could this season. I can assure you, not a single player left that arena tonight thinking of what you could’ve done differently, instead focusing on what they could’ve done differently.”
Nico sat for a second, absorbing your words. He takes his hands from yours to place his head in them, trying to collect his thoughts.
“Wenn es nur so einfach wäre,” you hear the foreign words muffled by the sound of his hands.
“Neeks, you know I’m learning, but I have no clue what you just said,” you chuckle slightly, not knowing if he’s even aware of the language switch.
“I said, if only it was that easy. I know you’re right, I do. But I just can’t make my brain hear the words the way my ears do,” he sighs.
You look at the man in front of you with sad eyes. You wish you could carry some of this burden for him, but you can’t. At the end of the day, you don’t know what it’s like to be the captain of a hockey team. You don’t know the full extent of the pressure not only his coaches place on him, but the team management, as well.
“My sweet, sweet boy,” you coo sadly, reaching out to cup his face, his own sad, brown eyes looking into yours. “Why don’t we just relax for the rest of the night, yeah? I was thinking about a bath earlier, if you wanted to join me? I’ll add some of that bubble bath you like. The one that smells like oranges and raspberries?” You question, deciding you’d talked enough hockey tonight.
“Yeah, that sounds nice,” he agrees, leaning into your touch, letting his eyes flutter shut.
You lean forward to give him a small peck on his forehead before standing and making your way to the bathroom.
You make sure the temperature of the water isn’t too hot, but still wanting it to be warm enough to soothe the ache not only in Nico’s muscles, but the ache in his chest, too. You decide to light a few candles, wanting to make the space as relaxing for him as possible. The bathroom door opens as you’re lighting the last candle, Nico having already discarded most of his clothing, standing before you only in his boxers.
He closes the door behind him, walking fully into the bathroom and leaning against the counter next to you. You set the candle away from anything that could potentially catch fire, and walk over to Nico, wrapping your arms around his torso, resting your cheek against his bare chest.
The two of you stand like that for a few moments, trying to transfer every ounce of love you have for the man through the contact. Eventually he pulls back, placing his hands on your shoulder before cocking an eyebrow, eyes raking down your body at your still fully clothed figure.
“Shouldn’t you have much less clothing on if we’re meant to be taking a bath together, Schatz?” he asks, the teasing in his voice a nice change from earlier.
“Are you trying to get me naked, cap?” you try to act shocked, but you can’t help the amused smile that breaks out on your face.
“Always, Mrs. cap,” he cheekily responds, using his teammates’ nickname for you.
You step back with a giggle, undressing yourself as Nico removes what little clothing he had on. After you walk over to turn the bathroom light off, the two of you step into the steaming tub, settling into a comfortable position. Your back rests against Nico’s chest, head resting on his shoulder, his clasped hands resting on your stomach. He begins tracing shapes on your stomach like you were on his back a few minutes ago, letting the warm water heat your skin and wash the stress of the day away.
“You know, even though I’m sad the season’s over, it does mean I get to spend more time with you now,” Nico breaks the silence, head tilted to rest against yours.
You hum in response, smiling at the thought of no more early morning alarms or late-night interruptions when he gets home from a roadie. You daydream about lazy mornings and breakfast in bed, something the two of you don’t get to indulge in nearly enough. You open your eyes, the thought reminding you of the treat you made Nico before his arrival home, nearly forgetting about the baked good sitting in your kitchen.
“Oh, I almost forgot, I baked you a little something before you got home!” you sat up a bit, water splashing around you.
“You did? What ever for?” Nico asks, eyes widening a bit at your sudden burst of enthusiasm.
“Just because. Knew you had a hard day, wanted to make sure you had something sweet to brighten it up a bit,” you shrugged.
“Not necessary. Not with the promise of getting to come home to you already.”
Your cheeks flush red, never really getting used to the sweet words Nico always throws your way.
“Well, I guess you don’t want any Luzerner….Luzerner…Leb…” You start, but can’t remember how to pronounce the Swiss dessert. You huff, crossing your arms over your chest, aggravated with yourself and your lack of fluency in Swiss-German.
“Luzerner Lebkuchen?” Nico finished for you.
“Yeah…that.” You roll your eyes at his perfect pronunciation.
“You really made it for me? From scratch?”
“Mhmm. Used your mom’s recipe. I hope it turned out. I didn’t want to cut into it to try it before you got home. Wanted to surprise you.”
Nico’s heart swelled at the confession, amazed that you’d go through all of that effort just for him. It wasn’t an easy dish to perfect, by no means. It took his mom years to get her gingerbread cake perfectly moist and flavorful. Regardless of how it tastes, he’ll savor it like it’s the last food on earth, simply because you made it for him.
“Well consider me surprised,” Nico murmurs, leaning in to kiss you.
You love moments like these. Lost in Nico, the two of you in your own little world. No hockey, no schoolwork, no responsibilities. Just two people hopelessly in love with each other, soaking in every ounce of affection the other has to offer.
Nico runs his hand down your back, causing your body to shiver at the contact. He pulls you closer, his other hand coming to tangle itself in your hair, tugging just enough to cause your mouth to open in a gasp, using the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your tongues fight one another, his winning the struggle for dominance in the end, a groan working its way out of his throat. When he starts to move his hand lower down your back, grabbing the flesh of your ass in the process, you pull back, lips swollen and out of breath.
“Nope. Slow your roll, hot stuff. This was meant to be a relaxing bath, not a sex and suds party,” you push him back by the shoulders, earning a pout from the man across from you.
“But, a sex and suds party sounds pretty relaxing to me. No better way to unwind after a hard day than watching your face as I make you cu-“
“Nope! Not happening right now! Keep it up and it won’t be happening at all tonight,” You warn, turning back around to resume your earlier position, hands resting over his on your stomach to keep them from wandering.
Nico laughs, finding amusement in your commitment to the relaxing bath you promised him. He places a kiss to your temple, deciding to leave it alone for now, knowing he’ll revisit the subject later.
The two of you sit in the warm tub until the water runs cold, talking about anything that crosses your minds. From your upcoming finals to summer destinations you’d love to visit, the security of your bubble filled world allowing no room for hockey talk or stressful situations to infiltrate the delicate space.
After you start shivering, having put up with the cold water for as long as you could, Nico reaches forward to drain the tub, deciding that its time the two of you get out and dry off. You step out of the tub, reaching for the towels you had placed on the closed lid of the toilet seat, grabbing one for yourself before handing one to Nico. The two of you dry off your bodies, no sound other than the draining tub in the room. You look over to Nico, towel wrapped around his waist, and admire the man you love. You love him for so much more than his physique, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t the cherry on top of the already perfect soul before you.
Before he catches you staring and gets anymore ideas, you look away and wrap your own towel around your body, trying to shield yourself from the cool air on your damp skin.
“Thank you, Schatz,” Nico breaks the silence, causing you to look up at him, noticing he had closed the distance between the two of you, reaching out to place a piece of hair behind your ear, hand falling to your cheek.
“For what?”
“For always being here when I need someone. For always knowing exactly what I need, even before I do. For being you,” he states, referencing the many times you’ve been his sanity after days like today, always managing to take his mind off of his troubles and filling his head with thoughts of you, instead.
“Always,” you turn your head, placing a kiss on his palm before placing your cheek back against his palm, flashing Nico one of your loving smiles.
“Now, what about digging into that cake I made you? It’s not going to eat itself, you know?” you perk up, wanting to find out if you efforts paid off or not.
“Oh, I have a different kind of dessert I’d rather dig into, if you don’t mind,” Nico smirks, watching your eyes widen as he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, laughing at your squeal as he heads towards the door of the bathroom, ready to savor his sweet treat.
458 notes · View notes
r4izx · 1 month
Text
the next page
scaramouche x gn!reader
summary: you start seeing less and less of your lover and more and more of him with someone else.
- 2,522 words and 13,694 characters.
- slight cursing
a/n: sorry for not updating for so long •́ ‿ ,•̀ exams just ended. have this and not a part 2 of my last fic LOL.
9 days, 14 hours, 58 minutes and 2 seconds.
you don't know how you managed to keep track of the time but that's how long since you've seen your boyfriend in the day. if it wasn't for your shared apartment, you might've not even catch a glimpse of him at all.
these days, scaramouche has been coming home late and going out a lot. it's the reason why you've been staying up late night, waiting at the dinner table until he comes home for the dinner you prepared. but everytime he comes home it's already 2 am and the food has gone cold. you even offer to heat it up for him but he's either not hungry, already ate, or tired. but not too tired to go out with his friends it seems. and although you said friends, you're referring to a particular girl he's been spending more time with than anyone else. more time than with you. it didn't take long for you to find out why he's been ditching you. but it has been so long since you knew the reason yet you've done nothing about it.
you still wait at the kitchen table for who knows how long. but you always end up falling asleep, not noticing when he comes home. and the next day when you wake up, he's gone. that's basically your everyday routine. all you do is stay holed up in your shared apartment all alone. you didn't have much friends compared to him since you chose to hang out with him most of the time.
10 days, 2 hours, 4 minutes and 31 seconds.
it's late at night when scaramouche just entered the apartment. fortunately, you woke up almost immediately after hearing the door unlock. you fell asleep on the table, once again. and before scaramouche could even enter his bedroom, you called out his name.
"wait! scara..!" you still feel groggy from just waking up but you couldn't miss this chance. the chance to confront him. he stops in his tracks and slowly turns his head into your direction.
"what? be quick, i'm tired." scara replies. he was never the warm type of person, but he was also never this cold. you've never heard him speak in a tone like this. cold as ice. hearing him speak like that made you hesitate and even more nervous than you already were.
you nervously speak up,
"w-well, you know these days i've been thinking... you might be spending too much time with your friends and a girl i've been seeing you with. because we've barely hung out together compared to you and your friends." you finally confront of him. hoping he would understand how you feel, just like how you understand that he can have other friends as well.
"because of that, it's been really... lonely. I really don't wanna sound dramatic but maybe we could-"
"you are though." you internally flinch. before you could even finish what you were gonna say, scaramouche interrupted you. "you're being so dramatic y/n! can't i hang out with my friends?! you think you're the only one i have?! archons, there's so many people out there better than you! you're being so possesive."
you? possesive? is he being for real? are you wrong for wanting to spend time with your lover? his words keep echoing in your mind. 'dramatic, better than you, possesive.' you wanted to fight back and defend yourself. but, you wouldn't. you couldn't. you knew that he has other people to rely on too but who knew it would hurt this much when it's being said to you directly. what you didn't know is that he would choose to rely on them over you. now you look like a blind fool, who only saw the truth right now. the truth to his feelings. 'is that how he thinks of me?' you were stunned. too hurt to speak. but you snapped out of your daze once you felt something wet rolling down your face. a tear. you were, crying. crying for a guy who you knew you don't deserve. but you couldn't help it. all you could do now is wipe your tears.
"s-scara no- i'm sorry," what for? why do you need to apologize? "how about i join you with your friends instead? that way we both cou-"
"pfft." scaramouche tried holding his laughter. keyword: tried. he fails. bursting into a fit of laughter. "you? join us? tsk. don't make a joke like that, seriously... i don't need anybody to embarrass me infront of my friends. i told you, i'm too tired for this shit." and just like that, scara entered his room. leaving you all alone at the kitchen table, once again. you covered your mouth, hoping he wouldn't hear your muffled whimpers as you try to not to burst into tears. rushing to your own bedroom just after scara went to his.
you couldn't hold it in anymore. you broke down, tears streaming down from your eyes, too fast to wipe. you couldn't stop crying when you remember the things he had just said. but that wasn't the main reason as to why you were breaking down. sure, the hurtful words were a part of it but it was mostly because of the fact that, ...you know your worth. and you're worth more than this, and you deserve better. but you can't bring yourself to just... let go of him. you hate it that you wouldn't move on. that you couldn't move on.
8 days, 16 hours, 18 minutes and 20 seconds since that incident.
ever since that day you and scara has distanced even further. only seeing each other at night. barely. you told him how you felt and you didn't expect an outcome like this. you figured that you should treat yourself to something nice. you decide to go to the arcade. it was an arcade where you and scara would sometimes go to after class. it wasn't the best place to take a break at, considering you still think of him here, but atleast you were able to relax a bit. surprisingly, you managed to win something at the claw machine! it cheered you up when you remember the amount of times you spent money on rigged claw machines and end up getting nothing. maybe you should go to the arcade more. specifically on bad days. ironically, you're luckier on days where you feel like the unluckiest person ever.
just as you were about to get the prize you won, you saw something, no- scratch that, someone, out of the corner of your eye. someone you really didn't want to see. but still, you looked. your gaze lingered on him. you couldn't help but stare at scaramouche. your lover was right there. right there with another girl. is he cheating? is he leaving me? replacing me? you start overthinking, especially when you remember your last interaction with him. green hair, olive eyes. she's pretty too... maybe scara was right. maybe you were possesive... because right now you're feeling a lot of things. anger? sadness? jealousy? whatever it is --it doesn't feel good. while you were out here feeling like shit, scaramouche right now had the biggest smile on his face. with someone else, he looked so... happy. the smile on his face however, wasn't new to you. seeing it made you reminisce about the past. when you both were still happy together.
"scara! h-hey!-"
you both were walking at the side walk on the way home from school. it felt as if it was just yesterday when this happened. scara was teasing you, smudging ice cream on your face after you both bought some.
"ah- stop it!!"
scara didn't stop, he started laughing. he burst into laughter. and instead of being mad at him for teasing you again, you felt oddly comforted. was it because of his smile? seeing him so happy with you? whatever the reason was, you're just glad he's happy. and so you couldn't help but laugh along with him.
and right now, you're seeing the same memory again. but it's him,
...with someone else.
he's laughing with someone else. doing the same teasing to someone else. being so happy, with someone else.
it hurts.
and it hurts even more when you see that you won matching keychains. there's a pang on your chest and you can't explain the feeling. all you know is that you get this feeling when you see him being okay without you. while you're here suffering without him. it's unfair. you know your worth, and you deserve better. maybe... you should really move on.
so you've promised yourself, --you won't chat him, call him, prepare food for him, wait for him to get home. to think you would change yourself this much because of scara when he wouldn't change a single thing for you. but, it's for the better. now you're both avoiding each other.
15 days, 16 hours, 59 minutes and 58 seconds.
you managed to not interact with him as much for this long. things were awkward for the both of you, keeping replies short with each other. you think if other people saw you both they wouldn't even suspect the idea that you both are lovers. but hey, you kept your promise intact. fortunately, you haven't seen him at all for the past few days, not even a glimpse of him- ...yet.
as you were walking back home, you passed by you and scara's old spot. it was yours and scara's usual spot. it was somewhere near your shared apartment with him, an overlooking hill, where you could see the whole city. it was a place you both went to for a breath of fresh air. some memories quickly popped into your mind but you didn't wanna remember anything about it. not anymore. but it was only now that you noticed two figures on the spot. one was... from the silhouette you could already tell it was scara, but you still took a better look to confirm it and just as you suspected, it was him. now, the other figure was... the same girl again.
you're starting to hate the color green because of seeing her too much with him, although, you do feel slightly guilty 'cause you haven't even spoken to her once yet you feel like this. but still, you hate the color purple even more. it was the color of his hair, his eyes, and you were pretty sure it was his favorite color seeing how much his room is filled with it. because of him... you're hating a lot of things, including the fact that he looked so majestic right now. the wind blowing down on his face, his hair flowing with the air, his face leaning closer and closer to the girl's lips,...
as they kissed.
you watched as scara and the girl's lips touched each other's. it's a bit embarrassing to say but scara has never kissed you on the lips. was he saving it for a special moment like this? the atmosphere for them must have felt romantic. but right now, you feel like it's getting hard to breathe, the air around you is heavy, and your vision is getting blurry. ever since scara and you had distanced, you already knew at some point something like this would occur. but it still hurts. so much.
the dam broke.
tears started flooding down from your eyes. you cover your mouth, hoping the two of them wouldn't hear your sobs. your gaze fell downward. you couldn't bear to look at him again, it'll just break you even more. it hurts, it hurts, it hurts. and you start to think that maybe scara has never even loved you from the very beginning. maybe he was always more than friends with that girl. always ditching you for her, being this intimate with her, and at your personal spot with him too. looking back to your most precious moments with him, you really are a blind fool. you thought you were special. when in reality, he'd replace you the moment you do something he doesn't like.
and so, you break your promise. you take your phone out from your pocket. scrolling for a long while through your contacts. it was only now that you realize how long you actually didn't chat him. you finally find his name. 'scara♡'. you quickly cleared his nickname and started typing. even though your eyes were growing blurry from tears, you still tried to finish typing. albeit, with difficulty, you click send.
"scaramluche, we shoudl bresk up."
you didn't care if it had so much typos, you just wanted to get it over with. you tried staying loyal to him, for a long time. despite all of his complaints and how hard it was to breathe around him, you still endured. but a person could only take too much until they break.
you waited for a few minutes until the two of them finally left your spot. it was where you always went to when you needed a breathe of fresh air, so you went and sat there. watching the city lights, gazing at the sky, breathing this fresh air. this is what you need. no matter how many times you come to this place, the scenery always takes your breathe away. even though scaramouche was just here awhile ago, you couldn't even think about him right now. you wouldn't.
and for the first time in a while, you felt... relaxed. you felt calm. the air around you finally felt light, it was easier to breathe. now it's just you and yourself again. you were used to being alone in the confinements of your shared apartment, but this... feels different. you are alone, but you felt free. you aren't chained down to bothersome worries and doubts anymore.
going back to your shared apartment that day was difficult for you. but from then on, you knew things were gonna get better, so you held on. scaramouche didn't even bat an eye to the boxes lying around on your room. he didn't even care about the fact that your closet was getting emptier and emptier through the days. but that's good. because just like how he neglects you, you won't let yourself be bothered by him anymore.
and alas, the day comes where you finally move out. you went far enough to even ask the landlord if you could move in early. this is the beginning of your life without any problems. without any of him. scaramouche is blocked on all of your socials, he wouldn't know a thing about your whereabouts even if he tried to look for you. because you know a lot of things about him when he doesn't even know where you work.
you finished setting up your bed at your new apartment. you hastily scrambled onto the bed, lying down on your back. your whole body instantly felt relaxed and the only thing you could think about is that you don't regret doing this. you think that maybe this was really what you needed. a break from him, being freed from doubts and worries. you truly did the right choice of moving out, and...
33 days, 21 hours, 5 minutes and 10 seconds.
...moving on.
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Text
When the Levee Breaks
pairing: Remus Lupin x reader
tags / warnings: friends to lovers fluff then smut, mutual pining, smoking weed (be responsible irl), high sex, explicit descriptions of oral (f receiving), fem!reader
NSFW notes: A LARGE PORTION OF THIS FIC IS NOT SUITABLE FOR MINORS; DO NOT READ IT IF IT ISN'T APPROPRIATE FOR YOU! HOWEVER, because such a long portion (like 2/3) has no sexual material (except for the implication at the very beginning), i have clearly marked where it becomes NSFW in case any age-appropriate readers want to read only up to that point (i know some people just want fluff not smut even if they're of age, and that's so chill); i will say there is drug use before then, so still adult material, but fluffy around that; please please be responsible for your content consumption
random notes: set in the late 70's / early 80's, following canon of when the marauders would've met but the rest of the world building (e.g. au) left ambiguous title inspired by a song on one of the albums mentioned idk why this turned out similar to The Prettiest Star with Sirius Black, but i guess my fantasy is just to listen to music intensely with someone then fuck lovingly lol
word count: 6.4k
hope you enjoy! thank you if you read it! 🫶
You watch as his long fingers, practiced and adept, roll the spliff. You liked this part. You could stare at his hands under the guise of watching the rolling. Remus didn’t have to know how far from pot your mind wandered when you did. He didn’t have to know it made you wonder every time what else he could do with this fingers. Imagine how they would feel on you. In you. 
At the thought, you squirm where you’re seated on his settee next to him. He chuckles in a low tone. 
“Antsy?” 
“No.” 
He can tell you’re lying. You can tell he can tell. But you don’t care. As long as he can’t tell why you’re lying, it doesn’t matter, and you can keep wriggling.
“Whatever you say, jitterbug.” 
Your wringing hands catch his attention, and his eyes fix on them even as his hands continue their work. 
“Next time, you’re rolling it,” he says through a smile. “There’d be nothing left to smoke by the time you finished shaking it everywhere,” he laughs, too amused with himself, giggling as if he were already high. 
“Remus?” you start, and he shakes his head and chuckles, loving how you get when he teases you. 
“What?” he smiles, eyebrows shooting up at you, both a welcome and a challenge for you to say whatever you’re about to. 
“Can you remind me who provided this wonderful gift on this wonderful afternoon?” You shake the baggy you brought to his flat not 15 minutes ago. 
He laughs, now nodding, and concedes, “You’re right, sunshine. I should be so grateful.”
Remus brings the spliff to his mouth to lick the edge of the paper, and your retort gets caught in your throat as you fixate on his tongue. 
A bit too late, a bit too quiet for your usual banter, you say, “You should be, Moons. I can still take it home and smoke by myself.”
“Oh now I’ve rolled it for you, yeah? Didn’t realize you were just here for my services. Should’ve known you were just pretending to love me till you got what you wanted.” He holds up his finished work — a beauty really — in front of you as he finishes his joke. You hum affirmatively, taking it from him and looking it over. 
You inspect it exaggeratedly and with a theatrical sense of casual satisfaction tell him, “Hm, not bad. I was starting to regret the long con, but I think this was worth it.” 
He’s giggling as he gets up, bumping his body against yours before he does, going toward his record collection. He walks over lazily, unhurriedly, his bare feet quiet on the floor, his hand coming up to mess with his hair. His loose, comfy clothes do a lot to hide the muscles you know are lean but strong underneath.
“Come help me choose,” he says over his shoulder as he falls to one knee to scan a lower shelf. Almost a whole wall of his small apartment is covered in shelves, boxes, stacks of records. It looks a mess, but it’s actually meticulously organized by release date.
You follow him, come up just behind him. You crouch, too, not all the way down like him. You lean on him, resting your head atop his, bringing your arms around his shoulders and neck. 
He moans casually, seeming happy, and grabs your arms where they fall across his chest. 
“Oh, Rem. You should know…”
“Hm?” he asks, looking up at you. You look down at him, seeing his warm smile upside down. 
“This is the real reason I’ve pretended to be your friend all these years,” you fake seriousness as you nod toward the records. Remus rolls his eyes, but his smile stretches further across his lovely face. It pulls on a long scar that runs down his cheek. 
“And may I ask how you knew when we were eleven that one day I would own such an epic collection?” 
“Easy. You wore a Led Zeppelin t-shirt one of the first days we knew each other.”
He’s taken aback by your giving an actual answer. 
“Did I really?”
“Yeah,” you shrug, smiling down at him. The warmth of reminiscing about those childhood years softening you. 
“I think I remember that shirt,” he smiles nostalgically. “How do you remember that?” He twists in your embrace, coming to sit on the floor and pulling you with him. You’re sitting close to each other, and he’s watching you, rapt. 
“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I remember being so nervous and lonely at the beginning. Wanting to make friends. And you seemed nice, so I noticed you.” You shrug again, look down for a moment, not wanting to express embarrassment at a more honest recollection: you had a crush on him immediately, even back then, even before you were really sure what it was you were feeling — that came with the years that followed. “The day you wore that shirt, it was like something familiar I could latch onto. Someone who liked something I liked.” Remus is smiling adoringly at you. Listening as intently as he is, looking as giddy, he looks like a child at the greatest story time ever from his seat on the floor. 
“I even tried to talk to you about it,” you confess, cringing teasingly at yourself.
“Yeah?” He sits up straighter like a puppy hearing someone at the door. 
“Yeah,” you exhale. 
“I don’t remember that happening.”
“That’s because it didn’t,” you laugh. “I said tried to talk to you. I got too nervous and ran to hide before I could get the words out.” 
He’s shaking his head in disbelief, his smile still plastered on his face.
“I can’t believe I hadn’t noticed you yet.” Remus looks especially contemplative for a moment then hums, biting his lower lip. “It’s crazy. Trying to think of my life before you is like remembering a blank canvas.” 
Your cheeks warm and so does your heart. 
You’re smiling a beaming smile at him but say, “There wasn’t much to notice. I was pretty quiet. And besides, your attention probably couldn’t handle a single thing more given you were getting to know Sirius and James.” He laughs lightly at the good memories but shakes his head at you a little more pronouncedly. 
“I’m sure there was a lot to notice. I was just an idiot. And quiet, too. By comparison to that lot anyway. They spoke enough for the three of us. I probably would’ve wimped out if I’d tried to talk to a pretty girl like you back then.” The edges of his entrancing brown eyes crinkled from his smile. “I mean… to be honest… I’d get nervous for a while, talking to you at first.”
“You didn’t,” you tease but secretly really want to hear more.  
“I did, yeah. Of course I did,” he laughs at himself. “I had a big crush on you. James and Sirius wouldn’t let me live it down for ages.” 
You’re shocked at this news. And maybe your face shows it. What it doesn’t show is how desperately your mind is racing, questioning: “Wait, could things have been otherwise? Did he actually like me as more than a friend at some point? Did I ruin it somehow?”
Remus tenses slightly, his smile no longer reaching his eyes, which are attentive at your reaction. 
“That was a long time ago,” he jokes to fill the silence that is beginning to stretch too long, his tone awkward.
“What happened?” you whisper, unable to help it. 
He takes a second to answer, like he doesn’t know what to say. He’s searching your face, and you’re not sure how much he can read there. 
He shrugs. His face gives an “I don’t know” scowl. He’s trying to escape answering, but you don’t let him.
“Remus,” you laugh and shove him playfully. 
“I don’t know,” he giggles. “I don’t know. Then I got to know you I guess. And we became friends.” 
You give a scoffy laugh. You know he probably didn’t mean it that way, but your stomach sinks at the idea that getting to know you would remedy him of his crush. You’re staring at the floor when his voice breaks you out of your thoughts. 
“Hey, you okay?” He’s trying to keep the playful atmosphere, but you hear true concern in his tone. “Did I say something I shouldn’t’ve?”
You want to say “yes,” but you wouldn’t be able to tell him which part. So, you don’t say anything.
“I didn’t think you’d mind, after all these years,” he says more softly.
“No, Rem. Of course I don’t mind.” You shake your head as if dismissing the idea, attempting a laugh that still comes out strained. “I was just surprised is all.” 
He’s watching you, nodding subtlety, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. 
“Let’s choose something, yeah?” you nod next to you toward the wall, desperate to redirect attention.
“Yeah, yeah, ‘course.” Remus turns toward the records, skimming across his stacks. A thought catches him, and he moves purposefully toward a different shelf.
“What are you thinking?” you notice, your interest piqued. 
“1971,” he says as if it’s an answer. It is to you. 
1971: the year you met. 
He pulls out a well-worn record, and the strain on your smile finally dissipates to easy delight. You come stand next to him, and he hands it to you. 
“Do you remember how much we listened to that then?” he asks. 
“How could I forget,” you smile, your fingers tracing the cover of Led Zeppelin IV. 
It came out November 1971, but neither of you could get it till at least a month later, during Christmas break from school. When you finally did, the two of you listened to it nonstop. You absolutely loved the album, but you knew you listened to it that much because it was an easy excuse to hang out with Remus. You’d been listening to music together, often just the two of you, ever since.
“Fuck, I remember we’d listen to it in my room,” Remus reminisces. “And even Sirius, the biggest Zeppelin fan of us all, couldn’t take it anymore,” he laughs. “He’d turn it off when he found us listening to it, scolding us for ‘abusing a sacred thing.’”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“Oh, look at this,” Remus startles you, excited. He pulls another record off the same shelf.
“This is too perfect,” he giggles. “I didn’t remember this came out then,” he muses, looking it over. “Probably didn’t get my hands on it till much later, I guess. But it’s like it was made for us. For you.” He hands you Just As I Am by Bill Withers, but you still don’t get what he’s saying. He sees your confused look and chuckles. “Second track,” he hints. Your eyes land on “Ain’t No Sunshine.” 
“Sunshine”: Remus’s nickname for you for years. You had Sirius to thank for it actually. He’d said you and Remus were like yin and yang. And since you all already called him “Moony,” you had to be “Sunny.” The other three of you cringed at the sound of that, so he tried “sunshine” instead, conceding it was close enough, and it stuck. Over the years, Sirius and James used it less and less, Remus more and more.
“It’s your song,” Remus urges, knocking his shoulder against yours. “There literally can’t be sunshine when you’re gone because you are sunshine.” He sounds too excited, and it’s adorable. 
“You sound like Sirius saying he’s serious,” you tease. He just laughs and takes the record back.
“Whatever, grumpy. It’s an epic song, and you know it, and now it’s yours, and I don’t care if that’s cheesy.”
“I love it,” escapes you, teasing tone gone. His eyes snap to yours, and he looks at you warmly.
“Alright, sunshine,” he whispers. A beat. “Wanna listen to it?” he asks, voice almost normal again. You nod gladly then go back to the sofa as he sets it up.
Remus soon comes back and joins you. He grabs the spliff from between stacks of snacks you’d prepared for the afternoon then looks over at you.
“Ready, sunshine?”
“Mhhm.”
“You do the honours.” He hands it to you and grabs the lighter. Rather than handing that to you too, he lights it for you as it dangles from your parted lips. 
You take a long drag, feeling it enter you and welcoming it. You cough lightly as you exhale slowly. You are no novice but are still always a cougher. Remus still always giggles when you do, but it’s never mocking. He has a glass of water ready for you, knowing you well, always looking after you. You trade him the water for the spliff, which he proceeds to hit with equal enthusiasm and less wheezing.  
You pass it back and forth for a little while. It’s strong stuff and just three hits in, you feel it engulfing you. The settee feels softer; the music sounds better. 
“Ain’t No Sunshine” is playing, and in your dazed state, you’re sure this is going to be the peak of the album even if it doesn’t coincide with the peak of your high. You close your eyes, and you can feel the music on your skin. 
Remus chuckles next to you, and your face turns to him.
“You look so stoned right now,” he explains, giddy. 
“That’s because I am,” you laugh. Once you start laughing it’s hard to stop; once Remus joins, it’s almost impossible. 
You chat easily, observations and jokes from both of you greatly benefitting from the induced assistance. Remus has a revelation about your listening to HI-fi while high. Your mind is blown multiple times at how deep the lyrics are. 
“They’re all talkin’ at him, but he doesn’t hear a word they’re sayin’, Moons! Not a word! I should do that,” you tell him as if it’s the most urgent thing in the world. He cracks up. “He’s so right, you know? Gotta keep the sun shining through the pouring rain, you know?”
“Uh-huh, I know, sunshine, I know,” he just laughs at you.
“You have such a nice smile, Moony,” you observe, dazed just as much from the feelings perambulating through your system than the pot doing the same.
“Yeah?” he asks, exaggerating it till he’s all teeth and squinty eyes. 
“Yeah,” you laugh. “It looked funny upside down over there,” you remember. “Watch!” 
You flip over on the sofa till your feet are up where your neck should rest and your head is dangling off the edge where your knees would normally be. You smile up at him. Remus doubles over laughing with you, bringing his face much closer to yours as he leans into it. 
“You’re right. Looks funny,” he tells you much more softly than you expected after his cackling. He watches you intently then brings a hand to your upside down face. He traces your features lightly, and it’s warm and tingly. His long finger travels down your nose, across your eyebrows. 
“C’mere,” you whisper to him.
“Where?” he whispers back, his voice a gruff chuckle again. 
“Down here!” you whisper-yell. 
You pull his shoulder down and start kicking his legs up as he contorts until you get him in the same position as you. You end up side by side, upside-down on the sofa. 
Each of you giggles at the other as you steal side glances. Your faces, pulled the wrong way by gravity, softened more than normal by the smoking, look even goofier through your incessant giggles and pointless efforts at holding those back.
You listen, and laugh, to at least a whole song like this. You kick each other’s feet throughout. As one of your kicks brings you closer to Remus, he rolls over to tickle you. You laugh so loud you can’t even hear the record over it. 
“Stop, Rem! Stop!” you plead. “I’m already too dizzy.” 
He keeps it up a moment but soon takes pity on you and helps move your body the right way around, his strong hands manipulating you easily. 
“Alright, dizzy. Enough upside-down,” he says as he fixes your now crazy hair. 
You just nod and shift closer to him. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he shuffles to a comfortable height for you, laying his own head on yours. 
A primary reason you enjoy getting high with Remus: you both get snuggly. You’re touchy normally, even more than most best friends you’ve seen, but not overly so. When you’re high, it’s overly so. But it somehow doesn’t feel weird. In fact, it feels wonderful. 
So, it feels wonderful, not weird, when you absentmindedly reach over for his hand. He gives it to you easily, and you begin caressing it. 
“Your skin is so soft, Rem.” You pull his hand closer to you, bringing it close to your face, looking it at like you’ve never seen a hand before. Remus takes the opportunity and quickly grabs at your nose playfully. You giggle at this as he responds to your initial comment.
“In between all the scars maybe.” He sounds matter of fact. There’s a lot less pain in his voice now when he talks about them than when he did in your younger years. You look forward to the day when you hear no pain there at all. 
“No, the scars too,” you correct him gently, and you bring your thumb to a scar that runs from the top of his hand up to his forearm. You trace it with reverence, and he shivers at your touch. You know for a fact you’re the only person in the world he allows to touch them. You’re so grateful for his trust, and in this moment, your emotions heightened, your inhibitions lowered, the vibrations of the music moving through you, you feel the need to tell him so. 
“Thank you for letting me touch you, Moony.” 
Remus has been watching where your hands are connected until now, but at your words, he looks into your eyes. He just looks at you for a long moment. You can’t tell how long, time elongated and indeterminable in your current state, but you’re completely comfortable to sit in it through its entirety, looking straight back at him. 
Eventually, the softest grin blossoms on his face. You mirror it. 
“Thank you for not being afraid to,” he whispers. You genuinely don’t understand. 
“Why would I be?”
“You know what I mean,” he tries to explain. He looks down in shyness but back at you before continuing, “Maybe ‘afraid’ isn’t the right word. Maybe it’s ‘disgusted’ or something…” 
His voice is fading to a low whisper by the end, like the louder the words are the truer they’ll be. 
Without hesitating, you tell him the truth: “Remus, you’re the least disgusting person in the world. You’re beautiful.” He grimaces like he can’t believe you, so you go on. “You are.” 
You turn your body even more toward him, bringing your connected hands to your almost shared lap and bringing your other hand to caress his cheek. 
“Silly Moony. You’re so sickeningly beautiful,” you chuckle. Your hand runs up through his hair. “This hair is ridiculous,” you inform him, tousling it. He leans into your touch like a content puppy. “These eyes.” You trace circles around each of them, first skimming his eyebrows then looping around. “They’re the easiest thing in the world to melt into, no pot needed.” You feel them crinkle as they smile into your compliments. “This nose.” You trace it slowly. “These lips,” you say more softly. You feel his gasp when you touch them then feel nothing, his breath held as you trace them. “And your scars,” you say with some finality. You trace a prominent one across his face. He closes his eyes while you do, opens them again when you reach its end. “You beauty isn’t one to be ruined by scars, Remus Lupin. Your beauty is the kind that incorporates the scar and makes that beautiful too.” 
Remus squeezes your interlaced hands. Your faces are so close to each other that you could see his eyes moisten as you tell him all this. He closes them before full tears form and moves his face that tiny bit closer till his forehead rests on yours. You nuzzle his nose, and he nuzzles yours back. 
“It’s so quiet,” you whisper, breaking the silence — noticing the silence. You didn’t notice when the album ended.  Remus just hums in response. 
The silence is loaded but peaceful. You don’t want to pressure him into having to say something back after you let yourself get so intense with him. It wasn’t about what he said back; it was about his understanding how you saw him, how you hoped he would see himself. 
So, with his eyes still closed, you give the scar that runs across his nose a light kiss, do the same to another larger one across his jaw. Then you bring your head back to his shoulder, snuggling into him to mark the end of the moment, no further pressure necessary. 
Remus shifts his body closer, as close to you as possible. He brings his arm around your shoulders without letting go of your hand. He’s holding you close, and your arm crosses your chest to keep your hands intertwined. He kisses the top of your head — new, sweet — then rests his own there again — familiar, warm. Your thumb absentmindedly strokes the back of his hand. 
You sit together in the quiet a long while. You close your eyes, breathe Remus in, let his body, his presence envelop you then just bask in it. Everything feels pleasantly heavy — the air, his body where it touches yours.
You settle into him, and without your noticing you’re doing it, your hand on his stills. 
“Don’t stop,” he whispers. 
“Hm?” you need to ask, unsure what he means. You look up, and he looks down, and your faces are a breadth away from each other. 
“I liked how you were touching me,” he whispers. “I always like how you touch me,” he adds like a secret. 
He brings his hand that’s not holding yours up to your face. First, the backs of his fingers brush lightly over your cheekbone then he rests his hand there. His fingers hold your jaw; his thumb caresses your cheek. Like you tend to do, you lean into his touch. 
His gentle, soothing touch flutters your eyes closed. Your inability to see his face makes it less scary to respond, “I always like how you touch me too.”
“Yeah?” he sighs, his hand holding you a bit more tightly, his thumb coming down to graze your bottom lip. You nod slowly, his hand moving with your head.
“Do you ever think about other ways we could touch each other?” he whispers. Your eyes fly open at this and land on his: lidded, dilated, gazing into your own. 
“Do you?” 
“I asked you first,” he giggles. “And I’ve already told you a secret today. It’s your turn.”
“What secret?” Your voices are still soft, whispering even though there’s no need for quiet other than your intimacy demanding it. 
“About my crush.” 
“I had a crush on you too,” you tell him. “So now we’re even.”
“That’s not fair, sunshine,” he smiles. You smile back. 
Then, after a moment, like he can’t help it, “You did?” 
“Of course I did.” 
“What happened?” he echoes. 
“Nothing,” you confess. 
His eyebrows furrow, unsure how to interpret this. His eyes hold hope and trepidation at once. 
“I got to know you… And we became friends…” you continue. His expression falls, and you’re pretty sure you recognize this look as disappointment. But you go on, “And it made me love you all the more.” 
You’re ready to read his expression closely this time, but you don’t get the chance before he’s kissing you, before you’re kissing back. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ NSFW beyond this point ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It’s slow. Deliberate. His lips push on yours; his arms bring you closer. His tongue teases your lips, and though they part in response, his tongue traces them rather than push in. You whimper at the feeling of it, and he moans at your reaction. He breathes you in, covers your whole mouth with his, devouring the sound, devouring you. 
Now his tongue enters your mouth, exploring, playing with yours. You’re not sure whether his movements are slow or whether they just feel slow because you’re still high. You are sure you have no desire to speed any of it up. 
You bring your hands to either side of his face, holding him gently but pulling him to you. He follows easily, and when your chests are almost flush, you trace your hands down to his shirt and pull him on top of you as you lean back, lying down on the sofa.
You keep kissing a deliciously long while then Remus goes beyond your lips, kissing along your jaw leisurely. He mouths at your skin, licking, nipping his way unhurriedly down to your neck. Here he languidly runs his tongue along the length of your neck, kissing your pulse point, nipping behind your ear. 
Everywhere he touches is buzzing, and you shiver at the sensation. When his breath blows cold air on your now wet skin, you shiver even harder, your body shuddering against his above you. He chuckles into the crook of your neck and continues. 
After another while of his working his way down, he has to pull the neck of your shirt down to reach further. You bare your neck to him, loving his exploratory path. 
When his mouth leaves your skin for the first time in several minutes, your impulse is to immediately pull him back to you.
“Let’s take this off,” he whispers sedately, gruffly, tugging at your top. 
You pull it off and don’t waste time unclasping and sliding your bra off as well. Remus looks at you, dopey and delighted, but without further ado, pushes your chest so that you lie back again. His hand stays on you and begins lazily kneading your breast as he brings his mouth back to you.
He kisses the base of your neck and continues his previous ministrations across your collarbones. He seems to be on a mission to trace the entire surface area of your skin with his wandering mouth, and you have every intention of letting him and enjoying every long second of it. 
As he makes his languorous way down your sternum, you arch your back, pushing up into him, and bring your hands to his messy hair, holding him close. You scratch and tug, needing somewhere to release some energy, every part of you he’s touched left humming warm and electric. He groans into your chest, and you’re certain you feel the vibrations move through your skin, across your chest cavity, and into your heart, where they ricochet within it, making it beat faster. 
“Remus,” you whine adoringly. He hums into your skin again in response and speeds up his southward trajectory just the slightest bit. 
His face comes between your breasts, and he runs his teeth down the valley, then licks his tongue up the same path. You shake a little, and his hand squeezes your breast tighter. The other one he mouths across until his tongue traces a slow, wet circle around your nipple. This shoots a hot, jolting current straight from where his mouth is connected to you down to between your legs.
He’s gentle for a while, moving back and forth between your tits, often agonizingly slowly, his hands kneading at your chest all the while. Without your expecting it, though, he bites one of your hard, sensitive nipples and tugs lightly. You squeal and push your chest into his mouth. He keeps going, switching as he fancies between rough and tender. 
At a bite of the side of your breast, you rut up into him, and the movement has you feeling how wet you are. You’ve never been this wet before before direct stimulation. 
Remus holds your hips down to the sofa but moves from your chest to your stomach. His roaming mouth proceeds at its perfect, maddening pace. It meanders to your ribs, down your sides, not following a straight path down. 
Once he eventually reaches the threshold of your pants, he looks up at you. 
Remus looks higher than you’ve ever seen him before. He looks elated, in awe. 
“I want to spend hours and hours on your body like this,” he tells you, nuzzling his face into your lower stomach, kissing it as he detaches from you.
“Remus,” you whimper, running your hand into his hair and inadvertently thrusting your hips up. He chuckles, still sounding high, but his voice is as low as you’ve ever heard it.
He takes your trousers and underwear off in one efficient but slow tug. He pulls his shirt off much faster, and you touch all his skin you can reach before he’s repositioning himself.
Your thighs feel cold now uncovered, but it’s nothing compared to the sensation of fresh air on your soaking cunt. As you adjust your body, you feel a thick wetness drip from your entrance down to where your arse meets the sofa. You feel the coldness of that wetness even more as Remus pushes your legs further apart to position himself between them. 
You’re completely sure you’re wetter than you’ve ever been before, but you’re not sure if you could possibly be as wet as you feel, thinking the high could be heightening your sensation of it. You’re worried it’s too much, worried you’ll put Remus off. 
“I can clean up a little if —“ you start, but you’re cut off by Remus diving in, running his flat tongue slowly, firmly up from the base of your puddle up to your pubic bone. A strangled, prolonged gasp functions as the end of your sentence.
When Remus licks you again, your thighs shake on either side of his head. You feel him laugh into your cunt, and this time you imagine the vibrations shooting all the way up your body, following the chaotic roadmap his mouth left lingering across it.
Remus pulls back from you and rests his chin on your pubic bone, looking up at you. 
He informs you simply, “You taste delicious, darling.” He looks drunk on it. 
“Everything tastes better when you’re high,” you tease.
“Then I’m really going to enjoy this,” he smiles. “But I’m pretty sure you’ll get me high just by letting me do this other times.” 
“Other times?” 
“Well, yeah…” he giggles. His eyes bore into yours even though he’s the length of your torso away. “I though this was a first, not an only…”
“Good.” You sound giddy. “Just checking.”
“Silly,” he shakes his head at you. You thrust your hips up and laugh at the expression he makes when you bump his face, like he’s dazed. He squeezes your thigh harshly where he’s holding you. 
“Behave, sunshine. It’s feeling dangerous down here.” 
“I thought you were enjoying it.” 
“I am.” A bite at your hip. “And I’m seriously getting the munchies, so just…” You don’t understand the end of his sentence, the words muffled against your skin as he starts eating you out.
It’s heavenly. High as you are, in love as you are, you think you’re on cloud nine. This gets you wondering where such an odd expression even comes from. It seems so random. 
“Moony?”
“Hmm?” is grunted into your cunt.
“Why do you think it’s called being on cloud nine?”
He pulls back. The whole lower half of his face shines in your slick. 
“Why are you thinking about that right now? Am I that bad at this?”
“Bad? It’s amazing.” You ruffle his hair in your groping hands. “Which is why I’m on cloud nine, which is why I’m thinking about that right now. Your hair is as soft as clouds, Moons.” 
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Am not,” you giggle.
“Are,” he teases.
“Can you keep going now? It felt so good. Your mouth is ridiculous.” You thrust your hips up at him again.
“Ridiculous and bossy,” he complains, but he’s smiling hard, and before you can even think of a retort, he does as you bid. 
His mouth takes its time between your legs. He spends eternities teasing you: mouthing at the tops of your thighs, licking up your bikini line, nipping at your clit without giving it the attention he knows you want from how loud you whine every time he gives it the slightest graze. He loves all over your vulva, not leaving any part untouched, unworshipped. His tongue fucks into your entrance languidly; it swirls there. He licks your labia, sucks on it, gives the same attention to your clit when you moan loud enough. He travels back and forth, seemingly enjoying all of it too much to stick to any one attention too long. The next time he lands on your clit, he prolongs it.
Your legs shake; your back arches; your whines grow loud before turning strangled, and Remus takes his cue to reserve the relaxed approach for later. He picks up his pace, gripping your thighs tightly and shakes his whole face into you, alternating between licking and sucking rhythmically at your clit. You cum hard, and it feels like it goes on for minutes. 
With your eyes closed, you truly feel like you’re floating, your only anchor to the world Remus Lupin where you feel his body attached to yours. 
You’re laughing in pleasure, and the laughs turn to pants as you slowly, slowly come down. You love coming down to an already high baseline, and you giggle at the sensation of relaxing into a still heightened state. 
It suddenly strikes you it feels like it’s been years since you talked to Remus, heard his mellifluous voice, and you startle your eyes open searching for him. 
You see him immediately. He’s gazing at you with equal parts ardor and adoration, but when he sees your expression, his shifts to concern. 
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong, my love?” He rushes to hover just above you. His face is close to yours again, though it’s scanning all over your body. His hand holds your face gently, his other arm holding him up. “Did something feel bad? Does something hurt?” 
“No, no, I’m fine, Moons, I’m fine,” you rush to reassure. “I just missed you,” you explain.
“Missed me?” His eyes shoot to yours. “I’m right here, love; what do you mean you missed me?” He can’t help a subtle giggle, and his adoring expression takes back its rightful place on his beautiful face. 
“I just thought I hadn’t seen you in too long.” Your hands caress his face, thread through his hair. “Or heard your voice…” 
“Hmm,” he hums, leaning into your touch. “I’m right here. What do you want me to say?”
“Anything,” you smile. 
“I love you.” 
You’ve heard them before, but never like this, and they’re the best words in the world, in the universe. 
“Remus,” you sigh, leaning up to kiss him. He tastes intensely of you, and you laugh into the kiss. “I’m sorry I got you so… so slicky.”
“I don’t mind,” he chuckles. “Means it was good, right?”
“Beyond. ‘Good’ is like… like one colour out of a whole rainbow for how that just felt.” 
He’s beaming down at you and kisses you again, lingering there. 
When he finally separates from you, his caressing thumb comes to wipe some slick at the corner of your lip. You grab his hand and kiss each of his fingers lightly. Then you lick down his long index finger, your tongue finding and following a scar up his hand to his wrist.
You look into his eyes, and he’s staring at you, transfixed. 
“I was thinking about your fingers when you were rolling the spliff.” 
“Yeah?” His voice is a desperate sigh. 
“Yeah.”
“What were you thinking about?” 
“How beautiful your hands are. How they’d feel touching me… How your fingers would feel inside me…”
“Fuck,” he whispers. “You wanna find out?”
“Yes,” you moan. 
“Get them nice and wet for me, and I’ll show you.” They’re already lingering at your lips, but he slowly pushes them in. You welcome them enthusiastically and lazily suck on them, swirl your tongue around them.
“Fuck.” His voice is low. “Fuck, I want to feel everything there is to feel with you.”
“Mmm,” you nod, your mouth still full. 
Remus takes his fingers out, kisses you, and lets his mouth stay on yours as his fingers trace down your chin, your chest, your stomach steadily, leaving a wet path. When they reach between your legs, you squirm in anticipation. 
He rubs a couple of tight, slow circles on your clit. You’re so sensitive, and it feels amazing. You mewl into his mouth where it still hovers just above yours. 
“Ready, my sunshine?” 
“Mmhhmm.”
Remus pushes two fingers into you ever so slowly. You release a low, slow whine the whole time he takes to press in. He gives you gentle kisses, eating it up. When his fingers are in to the hilt, you wonder how you didn’t feel devastatingly empty every moment of your life before this one. When he adds a third, you’re sure you will every moment after.
You clench purposefully around him, and he moans into your mouth. Closing your eyes again, it’s the easiest thing to let yourself be consumed by the sensations, by Remus. 
When he curls his fingers inside you, you clench again, this time automatically. You grip his hair and clutch his back, your arms pulling his body close to yours. 
The spot he starts massaging feels like it’s a blazing fire, but everywhere else you’re connected, your chests, your mouths, is scattered scalding embers.
You’re savouring every second, every sensation, already feeling another high building but relishing in the time it’ll take to get there. 
You run your hands down Remus’s back, feeling the bumps of his scars, the grooves of his defined muscles. For the first time all afternoon, you feel a desire to hurry… 
You start moving your hips to meet his rhythm, eager, even more than for your own climax, for your turn to take your time on him. 
495 notes · View notes
lowkeyremi · 2 months
Text
"I'M PREGNANT"
How they react when you tell them you're pregnant ! ft. gojo, geto, choso, toji, and nanami (fem reader)
content: no curse!au, fluff, slightly suggestive, mentions of infertility (choso), mentions of a miscarriage, established relationship (marriage + dating), children, families.
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Gojo Satoru
Upon arriving home from another stressful day of work, Satoru looks around for his loving, beautiful, awesomest (his words not yours), girlfriend.
"UGHH I had a HORRIBLE day today. Baby, where are you so I can tell you all about it?!!" He takes note of how most of the lights are off and he can't smell dinner. Even on your worst work days you always make dinner, so there are two things Satoru can think of off the top of his head. A. You're out with friends and forgot to tell him or, B. Something is really wrong and you're hiding from him.
His stomach drops at the idea of option B, and as much as he'd like to eliminate that option it is very possible.
"[name]? Where are you?" He asks loud enough for you to hear it from your shared bathroom. You stare silently at the three positive pregnancy tests on the floor next to you. You know it's only a matter of time before he figures it out because he's used your real name instead of a pet name.
"If you're cheating on me then don't worry. I'll only kill the bastard who dared to make a move on you." If you weren't so stressed from your current situation you might have laughed at the fact that Satoru is a clueless idiot. Why would you cheat on him?
He starts walking deeper into the apartment. Into your room, you note, because you can hear his soft footsteps.
"Tell the coward to come out, babe. I bet he's in there with you fearing for his life right now." His voice sounds deadly but you know deep inside he's probably devastated thinking you've cheated on him.
"It's just me 'Toru. I.. I um. I need a minute." He shuffles outside of the door. If you're correct he's probably pressing his ear to the door to listen for another man's voice.
"I'm unlocking the door." He says, and fuck, you forgot that there's that little key at the top of the door to unlock it.
"Toru don't!" He unlocks the door pushing it open to reveal what's going on. It all happens too fast, you launch to try and close the door. In the process, one of the three tests gets kicked. His eyes draw to the moving object. They focus in on the test and he about falls to the ground.
"B-baby.. what are those?" The silence after his sentence is so loud that you could hear the busy city life outside of the bathroom window.
"You know what they are Satoru." He makes his way over to you embracing you so delicately like he'd break you if he squeezed any harder.
"Am I gonna be a daddy?" The question is whispered softly into your ear. Your tears fall landing on his shoulder.
"If you want to keep the baby, then yes." Ultimately it's not his choice, he knows that, but he also understands that this statement you've mentioned means you've already made your decision to keep the little baby forming inside of you.
"Fuck yeah I wanna keep it! Hope it looks like me so you have two adorably cute people to look at everyday. Also what the hell, my pull out game sucks!" He starts muttering to himself about how he could have sworn he hadn't cum inside of you recently.
All your anxiety subsides, and is replaced with faint annoyance when you roll your eyes.
"I'm having second thoughts." He doesn't realize you're joking because of how serious you look.
"Waittttttt I take it back!! The baby can look like you instead PLEASEEEEE PLEASEE KEEP IT." It's astonishing how your boyfriend can go from thinking you've cheated on him to being a sap in a matter of seconds.
Geto Suguru
"Sugu... can we go get some food?" This is the sixth night in a row you've asked this question. At first, Suguru just thought you had the munchies, but after observing you, he thinks there could be a different reason for your sudden change of behavior.
"It's 2:30 in the morning doll.." You sit up sleepily to check your phone and sure enough there are about two minutes until it's 2:30 am.
"How do you do that, Sugu?" He shrugs matching your previous actions.
"You seem to be having munchies every night? You getting enough to eat?" You nod meekly to answer his question. He suspects that you're pregnant but he's not sure how to bring it up.
"I have, but I dunno.. I've just been having these crazy food dreams that make me so hungry. I don't know where it's even coming from." He responds with a nod.
You take note of how he scratches the back of his neck, when he does that he's usually thinking.
"What's on your mind, Sugu?" He sighs inwardly as you get up out of bed to go make your latest craving: pork cutlet rice bowl with a fried egg on top. You didn't even really eat pork much but now you will destroy a pork cutlet bowl.
"I think you might be pregnant." You stop as soon as those words leave his mouth. The tension in the room rises as you try to find words to say.
"I- what? What makes you say that?"
"I mean think about it, last month I came inside of you like three or four times, which is enough to get you pregnant. On top of that you were testing out that new birth control since the other one was giving you weird side effects, and now you're craving pork. You don't even like pork." His reasoning makes since, but you're in denial right now.
"...That's a strong claim to make.... I mean what if it's just munchies?" He rubs his temple before getting out of the bed to join you in a hug.
"I'm not saying you are. I'm saying I think you are. If you are, you know I'll be there every step of the way with whatever decision you choose to make." He's so understanding, it's one of the many things you love about him.
For his sake you guys go out and buy a test for you to take. You took two of them, both showing a '+'.
"Well, it looks like you're gonna be a papa, Sugu." You say handing him the test, so he can see for himself.
"You're going to make an amazing mother, my love."
Kamo Choso
The both of you were clueless to the symptoms. He'd told you it's unlikely he'd ever get you pregnant because his sperm was tested, and he's very much infertile.
So, imagine his surprise when he sees a box of pregnancy tests under the bathroom sink while he's looking for a new tube of toothpaste.
You've already left for work so he'll wait for you to return to ask you about it.
He's excited, honestly. Choso has always wanted to start a little family with you, but he figured his infertility would stop that from happening. His doctor suggested adoption or a sperm donor. The two of you quickly ruled out the second option, it just didn't feel right to you guys.
The topic of adoption has been brought up here and there. You've both considered it deeply.
Choso can't sit still, he's off work today and the excitement within him will not fade away. All day long he's humming and practicing what he'll say to you when you get home. He even started looking at baby stuff.
When he hears the door unlock he's quick to act, greeting you at the door with kissing and smiles.
"Hey baby." His smile reaches his eyes, something it hasn't done in a little while.
"Hey, Cho. You seem to be in high spirits today."
"You're pregnant?" He blurts out the question without even thinking. Shit.. he was gonna try to ease into it.
"How'd you find out? Gosh did your stupid brother tell you? I was gonna surprise you!!" Confusion takes over your face when he gasps.
"You told Yuji before me? Baby.. how could you?" He's only half joking, he's a little bit sad, of course.
"I needed to tell someone!! I wanted to surprise you. I knew you were gonna be so excited." You pull him into a hug. He quickly reciprocates forgetting why he was even upset in the first place.
"Oh, I found out because the box of tests were under the sink."
"I probably should have hidden them better..."
Fushiguro Toji
Even though this is your second baby, telling him will never get any easier. When you'd told him about your first daughter he was indifferent about it. He'd go to great lengths to avoid you. Since you couldn't get through to him your only option was to call your step-son, Megumi.
He guessed that Toji was trying to figure out how to come to terms with being a father again. You had confronted your husband and he did admit to trying to understand the changes that would be made to your lives.
He said that his first daughter with you was his first and last child with you. You agreed with him because you only wanted a small little family. That was about three years ago. Here you are sitting on your bed looking at the test. Your daughter is playing on the floor with her toys.
"Mama, what wrong?" For her age she's quite perceptive. She must get that from Toji you think.
"Remember when you were telling Mama that you wanted a little sister or brother?" You'll break the news to her first. Her reaction will be the cuter and less stressful one.
"Mhm." Toji insisted on getting a bed frame that's somewhat high off the ground, so your little girl is standing right next to the bed waiting for you to pick her up.
Her deep green eyes stare deep into your soul as do your husband's eyes when he looks at you. She's sitting with her legs folded on your bed waiting for you to continue.
"Well.. you're going to have a little sibling." She springs up like a rocket, cheering in happiness.
"And when were you planning to tell me?" Your eyes quickly flicker over to the door frame which Toji is leaning against. There's a smug look on his face, nothing malice. Maybe he wants another one?
"Uh- Toji, baby, I was going to tell you soon. I just... Nami, my sweet girl? Can you go play with toys while mama and dad talk?" With ease she slides off your bed and walks out of your room.
Toji closes the door behind her ensuring she doesn't get nosy. "I didn't know how to tell you. You seemed really set on only having one.."
"I say stupid stuff all the time then change my mind. Do you really think I'd get mad at you for being pregnant? I'm the one who got you pregnant."
For once you don't know what to say.. you did think he'd be upset. Now that he's reassuring you all your anxiety washes away.
"I mean if it's another girl I might end it all." He's only joking, but you think another girl would be pretty funny.
"You're so stupid." He smirks at you, "You like it." Toji's not wrong, you do like it.
Nanami Kento
He could tell before you could. Everything started to add up when you complained about your back hurting, you hadn't mentioned period cramps in awhile and you seemed to be more clingy than Kento's ever seen you before.
It would make sense, he thinks. You'd gotten off of birth control last year and he stopped using condoms when you two got married. He wants kids more than you do, he believes. That want became more prominent after your first baby died three months into the pregnancy.
It would be cute to see you walk around with a round belly, complaining about little things like not being able to put your shoes on, or something of the sorts. He could once again experience that paternal feeling he felt awhile back.
"Honey, what're you daydreaming about now?" You ask joining him on the couch.
"Do you think you might be pregnant?" He asks suddenly taking you by surprise.
"I haven't really thought about it but it would make sense. The aches, cravings, yeah." If he were any normal man he'd get you a pregnancy test, but honey, this is Nanami Kento. You have a doctor's appointment scheduled for the next day.
When you arrive at your appointment with your husband the doctor has you pee in a little cup and he asks a bunch of boring but necessary questions.
On the drive home you notice Kento tapping the wheel to the tune of the song you're playing. He's never really liked your music tastes so he must really be excited.
"I can't wait to get the results." You nod in complete bliss. You're still trying to process the potential pregnancy. There was a time in the past; two months after you'd gotten off your birth control, you ended up pregnant but unfortunately your little baby passed away before being born.
There's hope in your heart that this baby is here to stay... a rainbow baby.
Within a few hours the doctor calls your husband telling him the results are positive. You're going to be a mother if this baby stays strong.
"We're going to be parents." He's so excited but he tries to contain his excitement.
"You're going to be a great daddy, Ken." He smiles dreamily at you. This is a dream come true to him. He couldn't think of anything better.
"I just know this is the one, Honey. We aren't going to lose this one." He tells you quietly with a little smile and you trust him. After all, Kento would never lie to you.
450 notes · View notes
azsazz · 2 months
Text
Midnight Muse (Part 24)
Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]
Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.
Warnings: None
Word Count: 3,511
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16] [Part 17] [Part 18] [Part 19] [Part 20] [Part 21] [Part 22] [Part 23] [Masterlist]
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Things slowly begin to enter a new normal.
You go to class, see your friends, and spend most nights with your boyfriend, licking, teasing, tasting each other on every available inch of skin you can find. The five of you hang out as a group and you’ve never been happier.
You’re even passing art history, thanks to Azriel’s fool-proof system of studying; a sexual favor in exchange for every correct answer you give.
For the most part, everything seems like a dream. Compared to the beginning of your year, it is. There's still that niggling feeling inside of you that you just can’t seem to get over, though. As you sit in the art building working on your project for Alis’ class, you’re not entirely sure what to do. It’s the last assignment before the semester ends and you’ve started and restarted the drawing three times already, all of your attempted creativity fizzling out within hours.
Now, with only two days to go before it’s due for critique, you’re on the cusp of tears. It’s not from lack of trying, but because you’ve been forcing yourself to tap into your inner creative and find your muse. You want to create something that you’re proud of, but there’s nothing for your heart to grasp onto, no genius ideas that make you want to pour your soul onto the paper.
You’re starting to think that you might fail this class.
Feyre had offered to tag along, but she’s already finished her project fairly quickly after the assignment was given out, and things have been a bit awkward between you and Lucien since he found out that you and Azriel are officially dating. 
Naturally, the event had occurred after one of your drawing classes. It almost felt like deja vu, with the way Azriel was waiting outside of the building. This time, you were more than happy to see your boyfriend, who was leaning up against the side of his motorcycle, helmet tucked under his arm with a second one perched beside him. 
You could admit that you’re starting to enjoy riding on his motorcycle with him. He’s even taken you to his favorite spot where he often goes to draw or think, escaping the stressors of his life back on campus such as his father pestering him about the buying building he lives in. He hasn’t responded to a single text message.
“(Y/N), hold up a minute,” Lucien said, stopping you from going down the stairs of the building to meet your boyfriend with a hand on your shoulder. Feyre continues downward after you gently wave her on, but you don’t miss the way Azriel’s eyes narrow.
“What’s up, Luc?” you ask, although you already know what he’s wondering. It doesn’t take a genius to understand that whatever you and Azriel had started out as is now the complete opposite. He’s no longer your infuriating neighbor, but the boy you you’re slowly starting to fall—
Thankfully, Lucien interrupts the thought before you can dwell on it too long. “What’s going on with him?” he asks, jerking his head to where Feyre and Azriel are talking quietly. The latter watches you and Lucien’s exchange intently. “I thought you two hated each other, but now you’re hanging out with him all of the time? Did I miss something?” 
A pang of guilt gnaws at your stomach. You feel bad for not telling Lucien about your newfound romance with Azriel, but you’ve been wanting to tell him over lunch or coffee, but with the end of the semester projects and tests coming up, the both of you had been too busy to properly hang out.
Your cheeks heat and it’s hard to look him in his eyes when he looks so confused. “Yeah, um, Azriel and I are sort of dating now.”
Lucien frowns, “Sort of?” 
“We are,” you shake your head, answering more solidly this time. “We’re dating.” 
You don’t miss the hurt that flashes through his eyes. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 
You sigh, kicking and digging the tip of your shoe into the concrete for something to focus on. You don’t like the way that Lucien is looking at you, like you’re no longer his friend, which isn’t the case at all. Sure, you know that for whatever reason he and Azriel don’t see eye-to-eye, and you can admit that you’ve only fed into that storyline by spending most of your time these days with Azriel and not taking the proper time to check in with your friend, but right you feel like you’re the one at blame for not reaching out.
It seems as if Azriel has had enough, pushing up from his motorcycle to ascend the stairs. His strides are long, sure, and his spine straightens with each step closer he takes, shoulders widening and chest puffing. 
“Hey, princess.” 
“Azriel,” you greet with a nervous smile, accepting the way he tucks you into his side and presses a kiss to your cheek. His hand is firm against your hip and you enjoy the way he feels, the way he allows you to siphon some of his strength for this conversation. “This is Lucien. Lucien, this is Azriel.” 
The two boys stare at each other, sizing one another up. It makes you shift on your feet but Azriel’s hold only tightens, showing you off, staking his claim.
It’s awkward, to say the least. Neither of them greet each other and it's as if they’re both waiting for the other to look away first so the other can snap at their neck like a rabid dog. You shoot a look towards Feyre but her head is buried in her phone, an enormous smile on her face, completely oblivious to the pissing contest that’s happening up the stairs.
A muscle ticks in Lucien's jaw before he rips his gaze away from Azriel to settle back on yours. He gives you a single nod, and you’re not sure how to feel when his throat works around a swallow, his normally honeyed voice coming out rougher. “I have to go, actually, before I’m late. I’ll see you around, (Y/N).” 
“Lucien,” you call, but he’s already turned down the stairs and is brushing past Feyre, whose eyebrows furrow with concern at the sight of your friend. She tries to speak to him but he brushes her off gently, and when her heavy blue-gray eyes settle on you, you deflate into Azriel’s side. 
You feel similarly to how you did then, defeated and glum. The piece of drawing paper before you is filled with the darkness from your charcoal, your fingers coated in the chalky substance, and the shapes you’d been sketching stare back at you, taunting you, because no one is going to be able to finish this except for you.
It’s a fairly simple task, to draw yourself as some sort of hybrid, but as you look in the mirror hanging to your left, you can’t seem to figure out what kind of creature resonates with you. Feyre had drawn herself as some sort of beast, her true self, she claimed. When you had asked Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel what they had done when they took their drawing classes, Rhysand said he drew himself with dragon features, Cassian morphed himself with a grizzly bear, and Azriel had drawn himself with the bat wings inked across his back.
The last time you spoke with Lucien before your relationship became strained, he’d been drawing half of his face as a fox, and you’d seen one of the other girls in your class, Vassa, you think her name is, drawing herself as a phoenix. Everyone seemed to light up with their ideas immediately when Alis had announced the final project, and you had only ducked your head, unsure of what to do.
Voices trickling down the hall startle you from your thoughts. You set your chalk down as you recognize the tenor, the laughter echoing around the silent building. Azriel and Cassian appear in the doorway to the classroom. Cassian’s splattered with clay from having been working on his own final project of the year, something he’s been boasting about but refuses to tell anyone what it is, and the smile that lights Azriel’s face when his eyes connect with yours is perfect.
You hadn’t realized how tense your shoulders had been, but the way they deflate at the sight of him makes you realize just how tired you are. There isn’t much time left until your project is due, and you’re sure to remind yourself that once again, you need to focus.
But the way Azriel’s eyes drag down your hands, coated in soot from the charcoal, flaring with heat, you’re forgetting your deadline and the project you’ve barely started completely. 
“Hey, princess,” Azriel greets, leaning down to press a firm kiss to your mouth. You can’t help but to slant against him a little, your energy from your long night sapped. His hand caresses your cheek and he frowns a little, examining your exhausted and frustrated state.
Your heart flutters at the warmth, at the care he shows you. How he isn’t afraid to hide his hands from you because you’ve spent night after night showing him just how much they mean to you. 
“Hi,” you reply with a soft yet strained smile, you turn to Cassian next. “Hey, Cass.” 
“Hey (Y/N). How’s the art project coming along?” 
You sigh, leaning further into Azriel’s warmth. “Not amazing, if I’m being honest.” 
“What’s wrong?” Azriel asks, “It looks like you have a solid start.” 
You crinkle your nose, examining your paper. It looks more abstract than anything, and you wonder for a moment if Azriel’s just being nice about it. But you know him better than that, and he would never tease you about a craft so dear to both of your hearts. 
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you groan.”I’ve started over three times.” All you want to do is throw your head in your hands but you don’t want to get chalk all over your face, unless Azriel is the one putting it there. Naked.
Maybe having sex will help get your creativity flowing?
Your boyfriend frowns for a moment, examining your work. You can see the cogs turning in his head, how he might help you figure out what to draw for your project. Of course, you could easily draw any animal mixed with yourself, but you really want this one to have meaning behind it. 
“Why don’t you take a break and we can all grab something to eat?” Azriel suggests. “A break might do you some good, and Cass and I were going to head over to Ritas.” 
A hot waffle and a large milkshake sounds absolutely superb right now, to be honest.
You stare at the paper before you. You really should stay and put in a few more hours of work, but at the same time you can’t stand to stare at it any longer. 
Two more days. You still have two more days.
“Yeah, I could use a snack,” you agree, picking up your pencil box from the floor and tossing your sticks of chalk into it. “Give me a few minutes to pack up.” You stand from your art horse, eyeing the mess of black. “You should too, Cassian. You’re covered in clay.”
He only grins and you—once again—regret saying anything to him. “The ladies like it dirty, (Y/N). But you know a little something about that, don't you?”
You try to force the warmth from your cheeks as you think of just how thorough Azriel had been the last time he drew you. How up close and personal he’d gotten with his stick of charcoal, how up close and personal he let you get with some paints you’d bought. 
Sometimes you love being an artist.
“Fuck off, Cass,” Azriel gripes, flipping your large sketchpad shut. He helps you pack your things while Cassian snickers, and his eyes are hot when you rub your hands together, trying to dispel the dust from them. He slings your backpack over his shoulder and your sketchpad under his arm while you dart off to wash your hands before Azriel can get any ideas. 
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Rita’s is…bustling for a Friday night. 
It looks completely different from when you’d been here last. No sign of the irritable waitress, no sign of anything really, you’re unable to see through the mass of the crowd, stuffed in booths and gyrating in whatever open space is left.
The lights are low. A colorful disco ball spins in the center of the diner that you hadn’t even noticed your first time here. Spots of color percolate around the room, seeming to guide the students on the little dancefloor as they sway their bodies, the tables lined up against the walls for this purpose.
“Rhys and Feyre are on their way,” Cassian says, reading a message on his phone before swiping at the screen. You don’t see the way that his eyes darken at whatever notification pops up because Azriel’s tugging you through the crowd.
The air is hot with bodies and laughter and as you make your way through the throng of people, you’re glad Azriel had talked you into a quick pit stop at the apartment to put your things away, as if he had known the diner would look like this tonight. He must spend more time here than you thought because he eases through the crowd, shoulders lax, letting the clubby music pouring from the jukebox wash over him.
“Are you sure this is Rita’s?” you call over Azriel’s shoulder, genuinely confused to how the dingy daytime diner has turned into this delightful nighttime dance party.
He tosses you a smile over his shoulder that makes your heart flutter.
“It’s where all of the cool kids go before and after the bars,” Cassian teases when Azriel finally finds an empty spot for the three of you to stand. He’s scouring the restaurant as if he’s looking for someone and returns his hazel gaze to you with a lazy grin. “C’mon, (Y/N), it’s like you don’t even go here.”
You roll your eyes, grumbling a little as Azriel pulls you to his front, settling his hands on your hips. The music is surprisingly loud but it’s good, causing you to roll your hips a little with the rhythm. Your boyfriend’s grip tightens, pulling you closer, and you can feel the interested bulge in his pants as his breathing turns heavier with your motions. 
“Spent most of my time at house parties last year,” you answer, shouting over the volume of the bar. “I’m hardly of drinking age, lest you forget.” You lean towards Cassian so he can hear you, pressing your ass further into Azriel’s cock. His thumb sneaks under the hem of your shirt, brushing against your exposed skin, sending a shiver up your spine. 
As if he isn’t the one that brought you here, he seems to have changed his mind fairly quickly.
“In that case, allow me to buy you a drink, my lady,” Cassian bows a little, taking his time eyeing the lower region of a girl that passes by. “What are you having?” 
You shrug, no longer in the mood for a milkshake. You scan the crowd, flickering over everyone on the dancefloor as you mull it over. “Something with rum,” you answer, and you don’t even think he’s listening anymore as the girl gives him a salacious smile over her shoulder and he starts chasing tail. 
“Think he’s coming back?” you ask over your shoulder. Your squeal is eaten up by the changing of songs as your boyfriend spins you abruptly in his arms, plastering his hips against yours in a slow grind that matches the heavy bass that makes the crowd cheer in excitement. 
“Don’t care,” he breathes into the shell of your ear. He follows his words with a nip at your lobe and you bite your lip, winding your arms around his neck. 
“Azriel,” you tut, but you can’t stop looking at his lips. His stare is hot and his hold is demanding, keeping you glued to his front as you grind your hips against his teasingly. “Cassian is your friend.”
“I don’t want to hear another man’s name on your lips right now, princess,” Azriel all but growls, golden eyes igniting. 
“What do you want?” you ask breathlessly, your nipples tightening into pebbles beneath your shirt. 
You’re thankful no one’s eyes are on you right now, all lost in their own conversations or dances with their partners. You don’t think it would matter if they were looking anyway, because you’re so focused on Azriel and the way his body reacts to a simply press of your body against his, warmth flooding you the way it always does when he’s around, that you might need that drink poured over you to pull your attention from him. 
“First, I want to take you home,” his hand strokes a long line up your spine and he buries it in the hair at the nape of your neck. You gasp at his firm hold, arousal dripping to your core when Azriel uses that hand to guide your head away from him to suck at your neck. You arch into him, eyes rolling into the back of your head. “Then, I’m going to strip you of all of these clothes,” his free hand grabs a handful of your ass and your approving hum sounds more like a moan. “And I’m going to ask you to ride me, princess. I want you to guide my cock into your tight, drenched pussy and take what you want, because you’re my needy girl, aren’t you?” 
“Yes,” your nails rake down the back of his shirt.
“And when you’re cumming on my cock, squeezing me tight, I want you to—”
“Your drinks,” Cassian says gruffly, shoving a cup between you and Azriel. It forces him to stand straight, glaring absolute daggers at his best friend but it seems to bound off of Cassian’s shoulders easily, because he looks just as pissed.
You’re still a bit dazed, so it takes you a moment or two to figure out what’s going on. Azriel won’t let you leave your position, can’t let you leave your position because his boner if full on fucking raging right now, but he does allow you to turn around again, taking the drink from Cassian to quickly take a sip, trying to quench your parched throat.
“Thanks,” you say but Cassian hardly acknowledges it, passing a beer over to Azriel. He had two still clenched firmly in his free hand but he takes one and slams it back quickly, emptying its contents before Azriel’s even had a sip of his own. 
“You okay, Cass?” Azriel asks, his hand sliding protectively over your hip. There’s no need to protect you from Cassian, but even you can admit as you shift from one foot to the other, that it’s weird seeing him like this. Not as carefree as he normally is. 
“Fucking dandy,” Cassian grunts, hazel eyes grazing down where you and Azriel are still pressed tightly together. He looks away just as quickly and you think you see his lip curl a little.
Azriel stiffens behind you.
What the hell is going on with him?
Before you have the chance to ask or Azriel has the chance to bait him, Feyre’s pushing through the crowd, towing Rhys behind her. One girl glares at her as she passes but Feyre doesn’t seem to notice, eyes lit with happiness when they finally reach your little group, unaware of the clouds of tension bubbling around the three of you.
Cassian makes an effort not to choke down his entire second beer but it’s all too tempting. He takes a deep sip so he doesn’t have to speak.
“Hey,” she greets, cheeks a little flushed already. Rhysand and she must have been drinking before they came out. Or had sex. 
“Hi,” you respond, trying to keep your grip on your cup relaxed. Cassian is acting strange. You glance up at him again but he’s avoiding eye contact with everyone right now, glaring into the mass of people. Yup, definitely avoiding looking at any of you.
“Rhys,” you hear Feyre say as you share a confused look with Azriel. His brows are pulled tight as he examines one of his best friends. He’d seemed fine back at the art building, his normal cheery and cheeky attitude threatening to drive him up the wall, so what happened between then and now? “Will you go get me a drink, please?” 
“Of course, Feyre darling,” he agrees, but Cassian’s already shoving past him, muttering how he’ll get them drinks. Rhysand’s mouth parts but Cassian has already disappeared into the crowd. Well, as much as any six-foot-five man can disappear. “What’s his problem?” 
Azriel shakes his head, taking a sip of his beer. “If we only knew.”
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back2bluesidex · 2 months
Text
Where Do Broken Hearts Go - Chapter 5 (18+)
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Pairing: Model, ex-boyfriend!Jungkook X Child psychologist, Fem!Reader X Lawyer, Single Dad!Hoseok. 
Summary: Jungkook stripped your emotions naked, left you bare in the chilly wind of despair and self-doubt with an unending heartache. You tried your hardest to move on from him, to live for yourself but failed miserably. Each night you had to come back to your empty home where memories and broken dreams were scattered all around the floor, until one day a little angel and her unbelievably beautiful father came into your life. Finally, when you find yourself healing, maybe falling too, Jungkook had to show up! Again!
Theme: Angst, pining, heartbreak, break-up, smut
Warnings: Mentions of school bullying, multiple pov changes, drinking, makeout
Word count: 4.4k+
Taglist requests are closed.
Minors and karens are not allowed in this blog
A/N: Finally!! They are kisssssinnngggg!!!
Main Masterlist
Chapters:- 
Prologue/Masterpost || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 - Finale
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Jungkook should have headed home. 
He knows he should have received Jiwon’s calls and replied to her messages at least once to confirm that he is alive. 
But he couldn’t.
He couldn't think of anything else after seeing you with another man, the man that you referred to as a special client earlier. He knows he has no right to invade your personal boundaries now, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be curious or worried about you.  
What if you are wasting your life away trying to move on from him, what if your client (that didn’t look like only a client) is a pervert? 
He should be there for you. you are, afterall, much more than just his ex-girlfriend to him. 
That’s exactly what brought him to your (once shared) apartment. Even though the decision is induced by two bottles of soju and three cigarettes in a row, he doesn't regret. 
Jungkook rehearses his lines again and again. He drew a mindmap of what conversations to initiate with you once he charges straight up to your door. But even before he could head near the entryway - he sees you getting out of the same car that picked you up from Jimin’s. 
And it’s the same man that had touched you in a way he doesn’t approve of. 
He lights another cigarette as he watches the scene upfolds one after another in front of him. That man says something, you reply to him, he takes a step towards you, you take a step back, he leans down and you don’t stop him. 
Jungkook’s blood starts boiling. He throws the cigarette away and surges forward to stop whatever is going on but the car window slides down and if he is not wrong then it’s a kid who talks to the man standing with you. 
Are you flirting with a married guy now? Are you that desperate to move on? To forget him? 
Before he can understand anything, he sees you bidding them goodbye and walking away. The car leaves a little later. 
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Your face still feels hot. 
For a moment you believe that all of it is a dream. There is no way Hoseok said it’s impossible to fall out of love with you. There is no way he admitted that he could do anything to make you his. There is no freaking way he was seconds away from kissing you!  
All of it is happening too fast. It’s been roughly four weeks since you met him. And it’s been a month and half since Jungkook broke up with you. 
Aren’t you moving on too fast? Are you really attracted to Hoseok or is he just a suitable rebound to you? 
These questions plague your mind. You grip your hair out of frustration. 
Hoseok can never be a rebound. That won’t be justified to him or to the kindness he has been treating you with. 
But the way you felt nervous and breathless around him a few minutes ago, the way his dark eyes managed to make you want him shamelessly - not all of it was because you desperately want to move on from your ex-boyfriend, is it? 
The doorbell rings loudly in your empty apartment and you realize you are still sitting on the couch and you haven’t even changed. 
The clock says it’s 7:40 pm and you frown at that. You wouldn’t have visitors on a Saturday during this hour. So it might be your grocery that you placed an order for just this morning. 
Getting up from the couch, you take slow steps towards the door and the bell rings once again. The delivery guy must be in a hurry, so you scream a little “coming” as you take the doorknob in your hands and open the door. 
And your head starts spinning all at once. 
“What are you doing here?” You ask the man standing at your door. The same man who broke your heart six weeks ago. The words come out with less surprise and more anger. 
“I- uh- I need to pack rest of my stuff…” he pauses, visibly struggling with his words, “can I come in?” 
You sigh, a long one, as you open the door wider for him to come in. 
Today is indeed a bad day. You wanted to avoid him once and you ended up coming across twice. 
Shutting the door loudly enough, you look at Jungkook. He looks restless. He is still wearing the same clothes you saw him in earlier, so he might not have headed home since then. The strong smell of soju and cigarettes highents your suspicion. 
He looks back at you, with big, doe, glossy eyes. Once you felt unbelievably weak for them but now you feel numb. The moisture in those dark orbs does nothing to worry or unsettle you. 
You wait for him to say something or to head inside your (once shared) bedroom and pack up whatever stuff he had left behind. But he does nothing. He stands there staring at you as you do the same. 
You sigh again, “as far as my knowledge goes, you have nothing left to pack. But you can check again, or whatever you please.” 
You divert your eyes from him and walk towards the kitchen to pour him a glass of water. 
“I know that. I know there’s nothing left.” he finally speaks up, making your head turn towards him through the open space of the kitchen. 
You feel anger growing inside you with every passing moment. If he knew then why the fuck did he come? What brings him here at your apartment on a saturday night right when you feel way too much troubled with your feelings and emotions? 
But you control it. You are trained to control your emotions during these kinds of situations. So you take in a deep breath and open your mouth to speak again.
“Then may I ask what brings you here, Jungkook? That too in the state of intoxication? If this is about the apartment itself then let me remind you that the lease is in my name and I have already wired you the share you had paid up until the breakup.”  
He walks towards you. Standing on the other side of the kitchen counter he says, “I just wanted to see you, Y/N.” 
A sarcastic chuckle bubbles in your throat at that. 
“We don't really share a relation to see each other frequently, don’t you think so? Besides, you just saw me this afternoon.” 
This time Jungkook laughs. Just like yours, his laugh, too, is punctuated with sarcasm. But you don’t know how he can be sarcastic. He is the one who left you, he is the one who has a girlfriend waiting at home for him while he is here at his ex-girlfriend’s house and he is the one who should be guilty, not you. 
Suddenly you feel a strong urge to throw the glass full of water on his face. But you calm yourself down again. 
“Well, you didn’t even look at me properly. You were so eager to entertain your special client that you basically ran out of Jimin’s place.” 
The insides of your mouth taste sour at how Jungkook emphasized the words special client.
“I don’t get it.” your head feels heavy, squeezing your eyes shut tight you continue, “I don’t get why are you here at this hour, having an unnecessary argument about my life?” 
“I am not arguing with you.” Jungkook frowns as he manages to protest. 
“Okay.” you resign. You know stretching the matter any further will only complicate things and you don’t want that to happen. You don’t want him inside your home or within your 10 meter radius ever again.  
Feeling Jungkook’s constant stare on you, you stand straight and try to put an end to whatever is happening right now, “Jungkook, you are drunk. Let me book a cab-” 
“Who is he?” your ex-boyfriend cuts you off. 
“Who are you talking about?” you can sense jealousy and possessiveness in his voice. And this is something you never liked even when you were together. So, seeing him jealous now because of whatever reason, when he is the one who left you, makes you even more furious. 
“That guy you almost kissed a few minutes ago?” the words leave through his gritted teeth, triggering something venomous inside you. 
“Does your pretty little actress girlfriend know that you have been following your ex-girlfriend and keeping records of the guys I meet?” you actually grip the glass now, ready to throw the water on Jungkook’s face if he says another word out of line. 
“You didn’t answer me, Y/N. Who was he?” Jungkook stands his ground, stubborn to show his non-existent rights on you. 
“That’s. None. Of. Your. Business.” The words come out low but coated with anger. You fail to recognize yourself. 
Jungkook comes closer to the kitchen counter and lodges himself between the stools. Only the thin kitchen island is separating the two of you. 
Two months ago, you yearned to have him at this proximity at least. Ironically enough, now you hate it. 
“It is. It is my business if you are flirting with a married guy just to move on from me! I should.. I should step in.” 
And that’s it. That was the last nail in the coffin.  
You pour the water on his head without waiting for a second more. 
He closes his eyes with a visible tick in his jaw as the cold water runs down from his hair down to his face, gradually wetting his clothes. 
“Come out of your dream, Jeon Jungkook. The world doesn’t revolve around you. My life, my choices, my decisions - nothing, you impact nothing! You aren’t worth my thoughts or my tears anymore. Do you get that?” you spat at his face. 
Jungkook stands still. The change in your level-headed demeanor took him by surprise, it seems. However, his gaze softens, jaw relaxes soon. Maybe it’s the cold water or maybe his conscience decided to make a comeback now. 
Running a hand through his now dripping hair, Jungkook tries to establish his point again, “Y/N, I am sorry. I am just worried about you. That guy has a kid-” 
“I will give you two minutes to leave, Jungkook. If you fail to do so I am going to call your manager.” You garb a kitchen towel and throw it on his face, “or worse… the paparazzi.” with that you leave him hanging awkwardly at the dining space making a beeline for your bedroom for some solace. 
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“Jungkook! Where have you been? Have you checked your phone? I have been texting and calling you? Are you alright? Did anything happen? Why are you soaked? Jungkook? Fucking answer me!” 
Jungkook’s head pounds more and more with every single word that comes out of Jiwon’s mouth.
He is still processing whatever happened tonight. But the alcohol level in his blood makes it almost impossible to form a coherent chain of thoughts. Jiwon, too, keeps throwing questions at him, pushing him towards the edge of losing his cool. 
Somehow managing to get out of his heavy boots, he trudges towards the couch and flops down, completely ignoring his girlfriend’s questions and presence. 
“Jungkook, please tell me. Did something bad happen? Where were you all day?” She sits at the end of the couch, by his leg, her voice is slightly less hyper than it was a minute ago.
“At Jimin’s” Jungkook whispers briefly as he covers his face with one of his forearm. He needs to rest. He needs to provide his mind and heart with a break after everything those went through today. But as soon as he closes his eyes, your face is what he sees. 
He has never seen you as angry as today. In those three years he spent with you, there were fallouts and arguments but never once you were as furious as you were today. You used to be either silent or passive aggressive before, but today you attacked him directly. There was fire in your eyes and venom in your voice. You even poured cold water on him. 
He knows he was unreasonable today. He knows he pushed all of your buttons. But what he doesn’t know is why he is hurting. 
He fell out of love with you. He, now, loves someone else. 
Then why on earth the prospect of you dating another man hurts him this much. Why couldn't he stop himself from acting unreasonable today? Why did he show up at your place and make a scene when it shouldn’t be his business to interrogate who you are dating.     
Jiwon shakes his body and he realizes that his sleeves are now wet with his tears. 
Fuck! Why am I crying? Jungkook thinks as he tries to sit up. 
“You weren’t with Jimin. He said you left after lunch. And it’s 9 pm now.” sniffing carefully, Jiwon adds, “and you are drunk.” 
“Yeah. I went for a drink later on.” Jungkook sighs. 
“Okay. But how did you get wet?” Jiwon throws her next question. 
“Can you please shut it, Jiwon?” the shout comes out of his throat involuntarily, so much so that it even takes himself by surprise. But he does nothing to conceal his bubbling annoyance, not even when he sees Jiwon’s eyes growing glossy. 
“I am sorry. I was just worr-” 
“I am sorry, too, Jiwon! I am sorry for not responding to your calls and messages and for shouting at you now but-” he sighs, feeling defeated, “but can you please leave me alone? I need to rest.” 
“Yeah, alright.” Jiwon gets up from her seat and walks towards the bedroom. 
Jungkook can feel her stopping in the middle of her tracks, turning towards him. 
“But if it’s about her, then… you need to fix yourself as soon as possible.” 
Jungkook doesn’t answer that.
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Sunday and Monday go in a blur. 
You somehow feel way better after kicking Jungkook out of your apartment. A little, angelic part of you regrets being rude to him, especially for pouring cold water on his head. 
You could have handled the situation better, like the adult you are. On top of that, you are a psychologist. You should have acted more wisely. 
But the bigger part of you is satisfied. 
You accepted everything when he said he fell for someone else. You did let him go knowing that there is no point of holding someone on when their heart isn’t with you anymore. 
But you couldn’t accept his unreasonable possessiveness or the way he shamelessly showed up at your place and especially the way he talked about you and Hoseok. 
So in conclusion, Jungkook deserved it. 
And you feel good about it. 
After a while everything seems to be falling in place. You are starting to heal, you are getting attracted to someone very appealing, you had only two clients left, one of which just had her last counseling with you today. 
Another one is Sua, and you have a very good feeling about her too. 
Tonight you decided to treat yourself a little. Lightening a lavender scented candle and choosing an over-expensive sheet mask to pamper your face, you lie down on your bed. 
For once you decide to think about absolutely nothing. You want to let your mind float and see where it lands. 
Your eyes close. The wet, cold sensation from the sheet mask feels too good on your face and you try to focus on that only. 
But bam! 
As soon as you let your thoughts flutter, those decide you paint a particular face with heart shaped smile, dark, warm and mysterious eyes, and a lithe body that you want on yours-
And your phone rings. 
An annoyed groan leaves your lips! 
“Why the fuck did I leave it on ring?” grabbing the phone from the night stand you scream at yourself. 
But your annoyance dies as soon as you see the intruder's name on the screen. 
It’s Hoseok. 
You gulp, smoothing your voice that went hoarse with the scream, and then you pick it up tapping the speaker icon. 
“Hey, Y/N” his smooth voice fills your ear. A smile creeps to your lips without your knowledge, “Is this the right time to talk to you? I didn’t disturb you, did I?” 
His unsure voice cut through the little bit of hurt that you have been feeling after experiencing radio since from his side after whatever happened on Saturday. 
“No, you didn’t. Tell me what’s up? Is Sua alright?” You try to keep your voice professional. And professionally he shouldn’t call you past business hours if it’s not an emergency. 
“Yeah, she’s fine. She’s better actually. We went grocery shopping yesterday and she was a lot more talkative. Thanks for everything.” 
“Eh. I’m not going to discount you even if you keep thanking me.” 
He laughs at that, making you feel lightheaded with the sound. 
“I have a favor to ask, actually.” hoseok says, as the laugh dies down. 
“Yeah. Tell me.” 
“Sua’s homeroom teacher has called for a PTA on wednesday and I have decided to let her know everything. But I don’t think I will be able to handle the situation wisely since I can’t keep my anger in check when it comes to her. So….” 
“So?” 
“So, could you please join me? Since you are her doctor you will be able to do it better.” 
You stay silent. The idea of joining Hoseok to his daughter’s PTA meeting feels too intimate. Even though you know you are going just as her doctor.  
“It’s totally alright if you don’t want to. I know this might not be under your responsibilities and I am sor-”
“I will join you. You can text me the time and address, right?” 
“Yeah sure. Sure, I can.” 
You can feel his smile on the other side of the line. 
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It doesn’t take you a minute to spot Hoseok and his luxurious sleek car. And you feel your breath caught in your throat yet again. 
How can a man be so attractive? He is handsome indeed but the aura of authority that he exudes knocks you off your socks each and every time you see him. 
When your eyes meet, he is still on the phone. For a moment you wonder, if it’s the woman Mina or not. 
“Hi… Thanks for coming.” Hoseok voices, cutting the call. His dark eyes bore into yours. You can see his Adam's apple bobbing as he quickly checks you out from head to toe. 
Fuck! Did you overdress yourself? 
“Again, hoseok, I get paid for doing this.” you add a little playfully making him chuckle. 
This time, you check him out. 
He has chosen to wear a black turtleneck today, tucked inside tight black slacks, along with a black blazer. 
Miraculously enough, you have chosen to wear a black wrap dress. And you two look nothing short of a grim reaper couple today. 
You chuckle to yourself at the thought. 
“Do I? Do I look funny?” Hoseok asks in surprise. 
You wave your hands desperately to dismiss his thoughts, “No no. It's just that we look like a grim reaper couple today. Dressed in all black.” 
“Oh” hoseok laughs lightly, “but a couple regardless.” 
You lose both of your mind and heart at his statement. 
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The meeting went smoother than you expected it to. 
Obviously, the homeroom teacher couldn’t find her voice when you handed her Sua’s counseling reports. 
Even though she once tried to defend herself when Hoseok told her that she should have focused on Sua better, that she should have monitored her behavior and informed him if she was being quieter than usual. But she acknowledged her carelessness when you pointed out all the behavioral changes that were easy for a teacher to spot. 
She decided to talk to Jaemin and her parents personally and let you and Hoseok know of the outcome. And she also promised to take special care of Sua and transfer Jaemin to a different section to keep him away. 
“Do you think that kid and his parents will understand his mistakes?” Hoseok asks as you two walk through the corridor. 
“They should but that depends a lot on what kind of people they are. Since Jaemin is as old as Sua, it’s impossible for him to develop the concept of an illegitimate child by himself. He must have heard that somewhere, most likely from his mother. Even though it’s just my assumption, if that’s the case then his parents need to be schooled as well.” 
“Then we will need to meet them personally.”  
“Yes, if that kid refuses to leave Sua alone, we will have to meet them personally. And I will try my best to make them reflect on their mistakes, don’t worry.” you add briskly, stepping out of the school building. “I’ll take my leave now, bye.”
“No wait.” Hoseok holds your forearm, even though you haven’t moved an inch or tried to walk away from him. 
The foreground is full of parents but it seems like no one is paying you any attention, so you try to relax yourself at his touch. 
Hoseok eases too and lets his hand fall by his side, “do you have any plans for this evening?” 
“No. I don’t.” Your heart starts beating loudly. Is he going to ask you out or something?
“It’s almost 3:30 now and I assume you have had your lunch already. So, why don’t you have dinner with me and Sua? I am gonna pick her up from noona’s place on our way home.” Hoseok proposes. 
You think it through for a while. Dinner? At his place? Will you be alive by the end of the day? 
“I don’t think-” 
“Please, Y/N? Please?” Hoseok pleads, stepping towards you. 
“Okay then.” you let your resistance fall limp on the feet of your emotions. 
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Hoseok is not a good cook but he knows how not to mess simple things up. So he sticks to the basics - Kimchi fried rice and samgyeopsal, accompanied by all the banchan his mom and sister send him every week.
He knows he needs to focus on the vegetables while chopping those but he can’t keep his eyes from wandering towards you. 
You look so bold and beautiful today. The black wrap dress is perfectly professional yet too sexy. He wants to undo that tie and let the dress fall on your feet to discover whatever wonders you are hiding underneath. 
You giggle with Sua. Both of you are coloring something while you engage her in a casual conversation. 
Hoseok’s heart warms at the scene. 
This is what he always wanted. A small family, a mother-figure for sua and a partner for himself. But he knows he doesn’t deserve you. Why would you want a single father like him when you could have bachelors lining for you. 
But then again, you didn’t stop him when he was about to kiss you that day. You accepted his invitation even though Namjoon mentioned you to be strictly professional. And now you are at his house, sitting in his dining room, playing with her daughter as he cooks for the three of you in the kitchen. 
Is he being too greedy? 
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“You have got a beautiful balcony here.” You mutter staring at the sight ahead. 
“Really? Thank you.” Hoseok comes to stand beside you, handing you the glass of wine. 
“Yeah. your house, too, is very clean and organized, which is very rare for single parents, especially single fathers. It tells of the fact that you are, as a person, very sorted out.” You complete before taking a sip from your glass. 
Hoseok’s eyes are fixed on your side profile. He doesn’t say anything, just keeps staring at how gorgeous you are. 
Then you turn your face towards him, giving him a lazy smile, you say “What? Am I wrong?” 
“No. Not at all. About cleanliness though, Sua helps a lot. Even though she is only seven, she knows how to keep things at their places. She’s truly much more mature than the kids of her age.” he smiles at the thought of her daughter. 
You smile too, remembering how she fell asleep keeping her head on your lap earlier. 
“Sua is very tired today.”  you whisper. 
“Yeah she is. She never slept before having her dessert. She is definitely very tired today.” Hoseok nods in agreement. 
“Do you know why she is tired?” 
“Why?” 
“Because she played around after a long time. She told me that she became friends with her hoobaes and taught them how to play red light, green light.” 
“What? Really?” 
“Yeah. She is getting better, Hoseok.” you finally turn towards the man fully and find him way too close to keep a respectable distance between two bodies. 
Hoseok, though, is loving the proximity. He wants to have you close, right now… forever. 
“And a lot of credit for that… goes to you. You are such an exceptionally great dad.” You smile up at him. Your heart is wilding inside your rib cage and you want to know if Hoseok is feeling the same.   
“What about me as a man in general?” Hoseok whispers, starting to lean down. You are irresistible and he doesn’t know how to control himself anymore. 
“That’s not under my diagnosis. I need to find that out personally. But my work ethic won’t allow me.” you let the words out of your mouth. But your body completely deceives you as you close whatever distance your bodies had left in between. 
The moment your body touches his, your eyes meet his pair, which are now hazy with lust, Hoseok loses it. 
“Fuck ethics” you hear him curse before his mouth crashes yours. His free hand winds around your waist, pulling you closer. You kiss him back instantly. 
Two pairs of lips mold perfectly against each other. 
Hoseok kisses you relentlessly, as if he has been hungry for your lips for a long time now. His hand holds you tightly to keep you in your place. 
Your free hand grabs him by his neck, kissing him with just as much urgency. 
He sucks your lower lip as you do the same with his upper one. Soon his tongue finds its way inside your mouth, testing every corner. 
You moan in his mouth when you feel his hands diving down to your ass and giving it a pleasant squeeze. 
“Stay the night?” Hoseok whispers parting for a bit, as a string of saliva connects both of your lips. 
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Taglist 1:-
@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @xjoonchildx @justmewondering-recs @cuteipat @miakey98 @purpleanchorcrown @chimmisbae @ane102 @junniesoleilkth @terjeonbebas @kookssecret @appleh4ad @kayleeshinee @whoa-jo @definetlythinkimanalien @lovelgirl22 @agrika
Taglist 2:-
@llallaaa @mikrokookiex @parkinglot-nights @hiqhkey @diamonddia-mond @00frenchfries00 @koalasandcuddles @superchamchi88 @ttanniett @coralmusicblaze @multiasf @kookscumrag @sumzysworld @knjjjk @xtrataerrestrial @survivalistghost @kelsyx33 @aann95 @btsffreader92 @jjk174 @dragonflygurl4 @xwniazx
433 notes · View notes
paigebueckersmommy · 3 days
Text
just tired - p.b
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paige bueckers x reader
requested by anon (kinda)
warnings: ed! , mental health issues, passing out
if you or anyone you know is struggling with an ed, don’t be afraid to reach out for help and my messages are open ❤️
you didn’t know what it was but recently you had been struggling a lot recently and didn’t know why. you had the worlds best girlfriend, and the best friends that you could ask for.
recently you found yourself looking at the back of food packaging, and always being tired.
the past 4 times you went to paige’s dorm you fell asleep almost instantly, which wasn’t normal for you. paige knew about your past with ed your freshman year, and was always checking in but things didn’t start getting bad for you till recently. paige had taken you on a vacation for your 2 year anniversary and you got insecure when you put on a swimsuit for the first time in months.
you were at paige’s dorm, laying in her bed with paige next to you eating a bag of goldfish. “baby do you want some?” paige said. “uh no i’m fine i had something before i came.” you say with uncertainty in your voice knowing that you wouldn’t be able to look at the food label without paige seeing. “are you okay princess? you’ve said that the past couple times you’ve been here when i’ve offered you food and your always falling asleep. i’m getting worried”paige said siting up and looking at you. “P, i promise im fine. “ you say pressing a kiss to her lips.
the next day
it was 7pm, and you were at the gym for the 2nd time that day. you were running on the treadmill watching the ‘cals. burned’ part of the screen go up when you got in incoming facetime call from paige. knowing she would freak out if she knew you were there for the 2nd time, you ran into the bathroom and into the stall at the end before picking up. you answer the phone, out of breath. “hi baby! i was wonder- ma where are you?” paige said with confusion. “oh uh- i’m at the gym.” you say knowing you couldn’t keep anything from paige. “baby didn’t you go this morning before your first class?” paige says.
“y-yea but i had some extra time on my hands tonight.” you say with shaky breath. “okay. as long as your eating 3 meals a day baby.” paige says with a sincere voice. “anyway i was wondering segue you get home if i could come over. i need to study and kk is being so loud playing fortnite… i also miss you.” you smile. “yea paige that’s fine ill be home in like 30 minutes.” you lie. you would be home in 15.
when you get home you shower, feeling faint. you change into sweats as you are cold despite taking a hot shower. you brush your hair and start walking into the living room when-
you pass out.
paige’s pov:
i jiggle my keys into her apartment door when i walk in and she’s on the floor of her living room. i immediately drop all my stuff, rushing next to her side. i start nudging and shaking her with panic, “baby wake up it’s me paige please baby,” i say as i feel a tear form and not long after i feel it fall.
readers pov:
i feel myself being shaken. was i asleep? did i fall asleep on my floor? “baby please wake up,” i hear paige say as i start to comprehend the things happening. “paige what happened,” you say, fluttering your eyes. “baby i think you passed out are you okay? why haven’t you been eating.” paige says as you notice that’s she’s crying.
“baby please talk to me. i’ve been worrried by you a lot recently.” paige helps you up as you both sit on your couch. “i-i don’t know. it’s just that i feel like my body isn’t good enough i need to lose weight.”
paige looks at you. “baby. your the most perfect girl i’ve ever met. every part of you, your personality, your body, your face, anything. you don’t have to change anything about you baby your already perfect.”
283 notes · View notes
finelinevogue · 3 months
Text
a montage of love
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summary - a fan has put together a small video of some of your best moments together
word count - ~1.5k
pairing - boyfriend!harry x youtuber!reader
The video screen filled with pictures of you and Harry along with the title ‘A quiet love like Harry and Y/Ns’.
The ten minute video was a fan-made compilation of moments between you and Harry that were quiet love moments. Moments where you didn’t say the words ‘I love you’ out loud, but the actions were louder than words anyways.
The fan put a disclaimer on the screen and claimed that they didn’t own any of the content.
You was a YouTuber so a lot of the content came from her channel, since Harry was always so proud and happy to be on your channel.
The video then started.
>>>>Clip 1:
The background was noise, since you were in a restaurant.
You and Harry were sat on the same side of the green velvet booth, shoulder to shoulder as if it were a pain to be sat apart.
The camera was placed on the table in front of you. You didn’t want to film the whole evening, since it was along time you and Harry couldn’t afford to waste, but you wanted to record a little just for memories.
Harry’s hand comes into view to hold yours that’s resting on the table. When you accept his hand, he brings them both up to his lips to give your skin a soft kiss.
“I love you.” He said quietly, but the camera picks it up.
“I love you too.” You blushed and rested your head against his shoulder affectionately.
“You want the last bite of my chocolate cake?” He asked you.
You nodded against his shoulder and he brought his other hand, fork loaded with a chocolate bite delight up to your mouth for you.
You ate it swiftly, not allowing any crumbs.
That bite was Harry’s way of saying I love you, again, but just in a different way.
>>>>Clip 2:
Standing in front of the floor length mirror in your house, you filmed for a winters walk vlog.
Lulu, your dog, padded around by your feet, awaiting her walk.
You were showing your outfit.
“My leggings are from H&M; cheap and cheerful my lovelies! The hoodie is from Harry’s wardrobe, but I believe it’s not cheap and cheerful. Don’t ask me why it isn’t, when it’s literally just a blue hoodie…”
You often joked about Harry’s incessant need to buy expensive clothes when he could be better spending it elsewhere… like on you!
“The coat is from Zara, I think, but I bought it from Vinted. Grabbed a great price for it and we’re preventing fast fashion in this household. And finally my ugly walking boots are from Go Outdoors. Sexy, I know!” You joked.
Harry walked in behind you then, dressed in a similar attire only with black running shorts over his leggings.
“Ready?” You asked him.
“Not until you bloody zip your coat up.” Harry huffed, picking up the keys from the key bowl by the front door.
“I don’t need to.”
“Yeah, nice try you.” He laughed and then his was before you, taking matters into his own hands and zipping up your coat for you.
Technically one of your hands was filming and the other was controlling Lulu, so there wasn’t much you could do anyways.
“So annoying.”
“Huff and pout all you like, but I’m saving you from a life of misery and cold.” He looked proud of himself after he zipped you up.
“Happy now?” You sarcastically asked.
“Not without a kiss I’m not.”
You pretended like that was a chore, but really you were excited to give him a kiss. The video stopped then, because you weren’t one to expose your PDA to the public.
>>>>Clip 3:
In the same video, you filmed your walk with Harry and Lulu.
You went on a walk alongside a canal, stopping off around at a little book swap along the way. Harry picked up a book and so did you, Harry offering to carry them both as you were walking Lulu.
You were walking canal side when Harry tugged on your hand and pulled you across him.
“What are you doing?” You laughed, Lulu happily walking ahead of you both.
“Making sure you’re less likely to fall in the canal, especially if Lulu tugs you.”
Harry was now walking canal side, holding your hand with his.
You made sure the camera caught the moment where you kissed his cheek in silent thanks, forever indebted to his gentlemanly capabilities.
>>>>Clip 4:
The room is bright as the sunset burns through the room.
You are sat on the floor, in front of the sofa in the living room, filming a segment of a video where you answer fan questions.
“What did Harry get you for Christmas?” You read out the question that you were asked via Instagram.
“He decided to get me a weighted blanket, because every time he goes away I find it quite difficult to fall asleep. The idea of the weighted blanket is to mimic him lying across me, which makes me feel more safe and calms me into sleeping better.”
You blushed as you answered, picking up your cup of tea to take a sip of it to hide your embarrassment.
You paused to think about you opening that gift and how happy you had been in that moment. Harry knew not to buy you anything that was expensive or materialistic. He bought you something practical and perfect, plus the he bought it in your favourite colour; yellow.
It was such a thoughtful gift and even more thoughtful coming from a man who could’ve easily bought you a meaningless yacht if he wanted.
The front door then unlocked and you turned to see who it was.
“Hey, m’love.” Harry said as he walked through, Pleasing tote bag on his shoulder and wrapped for winter.
“Hello, you. How was your day?” You asked him, watching him take off his coat and shoes.
“Busy, but good. Yeah, we wrote an entire verse which I’m proper happy with.”
“I’m just filming a bit for my next vlog, but I’ll make is dinner in a bit.” You promised, knowing he would be hungry after a full day in the studio.
Harry walked over to you, with a bunch of colourful tulips in his hand. He crouched down beside you, waving into the recording camera before handing over the flowers to you.
“For me?” You pouted at how sweet the gesture was, “Why?”
“Does there have to be a reason?”
“Harry…” You whined, feeling like you could cry. “Thank you.”
“It’s okay. You’re worth more than that, which is why takeaway is on me tonight.” He kissed your forehead - aware that the camera was still rolling.
“It’s always on you, honey.” You joked.
“That’s right. Treat you so well, don’t I?”
You couldn’t argue with him there.
“Did you eat today?” You asked him, concerned for his wellbeing as much as he is for yours.
“I did. Mitch brought us a couple boxes of sushi.”
“As long as you’ve had something, that’s all I care about.”
“Oh what would I do without you, my love?” Harry asked you, kissing your cheek.
“Perish.”
“That’s one word for it.”
834 notes · View notes
alessiasfreckles · 1 month
Text
amnesia - part 10 (ona batlle x alexia putellas x reader)
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part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9
a/n: this is what everyone meant by communication, right? right??? thank you to @codiemarin once again (and continually throughout this fic) for advice!!
---------
The next few minutes were a blur. Your fight or flight response kicked in, and your brain opted for flight. Before you even registered what was happening, you were in the back of a taxi, heart pounding.
The alcohol in your system was making it hard to think clearly, and as you stumbled out of the taxi and up the stairs to your apartment, your phone buzzed repeatedly. You pulled it out of your bag and groaned when you saw the missed calls and messages from both Ona and Alexia.
“Nope,” you mumbled, and turned your phone off.
When you finally got into your apartment, you kicked your shoes off, got a glass of water, and sat down on your bed with a groan. Your mind kept replaying the evening’s events, your conversation with Ona, your kiss with Alexia, Ona’s face, over and over again. You swore under your breath, falling back on the bed and covering your eyes with your pillow, and despite how wound up you were feeling, it didn’t take long for you to fall asleep.
You awoke with a start, sunlight streaming through your bedroom window. Shit, what time was it? Your phone was still off so your alarm hadn’t gone off, but the clock by your bed told you that you had about 15 minutes to get dressed and leave the house for your first physiotherapy session. Ugh, your first session back at the training grounds, where Ona and Alexia would be. Still, by now hopefully training would be in full swing, and the chances of you running into anyone would be fairly low.
As you got to the training ground and made it inside without seeing any of your teammates, you breathed a sigh of relief. You knew you had to face Ona and Alexia, had to talk to them, but you just didn’t know how. You felt awful for betraying Ona like that, and so guilty for using Alexia’s feelings for you. 
The session with the physiotherapist went by quickly, though it didn’t exactly make you feel any better about not being able to play football for the time being. Just being there was hard enough, knowing that your teammates were probably outside right now, kicking a ball around. 
You were so caught up in your thoughts about football as you left that you rounded a corner and ran straight into someone - two someones. 
Ona and Alexia. 
Fuck.
The two women looked at you, their surprised expressions quickly turning to relief.
“Y/N! Thank god you’re okay, we were so worried!” Ona said, breaking the silence. 
“We were trying to reach you all night, did you turn your phone off?” Alexia asked, a concerned frown on her face.
“I- um, yeah,” you stammered. Why wasn’t Ona angry with you?
“Maybe we should talk - all three of us,” Alexia suggested firmly, her captain voice coming out. You knew it wasn’t a suggestion, but an order, and nodded. As much as you didn’t want to face them both right now, it was clear that you needed to talk. 
You followed Alexia in silence to an empty training room, waiting until you were all inside with the door closed to start talking.
“Ona, I’m-” you started, but you were quickly interrupted by Alexia.
“Wait,” she said, holding a hand up. “I would like to go first. Y/N, there’s something you should know. I told you that I have liked you for a long time. That is true, but there’s something I didn’t tell you. I have also liked Ona for a long time.”
Wait- Alexia liked Ona? Romantically? You frowned and opened your mouth, but Alexia quickly cut you off again. 
“I’m still talking. Do you like me? As in, do you have a crush on me?” she asked, using air quotes around the word ‘crush’, which you supposed was fair. The way you felt was so much bigger than just a crush.
You glanced at Ona, who was watching you intently, and winced. “I’m sorry, Oni, but, yes, Ale. But, Oni, I love you as well, I promise.”
“Okay,” Alexia said calmly. “Oni, would you like to tell Y/N about your feelings?”
Ona blushed, looking down at the ground. “I love you, Y/N, but I- I also like Ale. A lot. I have for a long time, I just didn’t realise it.”
Okay, now you felt like you had to sit down. So, Alexia liked both of you, and Ona liked both of you, and you liked both of them? 
“Last week,” Alexia kept talking. There was more? “Ona and I kissed.”
Wait.
What?
“What?” you asked, your brain unable to comprehend what Alexia had just said.
“Last week, a week ago today, actually, Ona and I kissed. It only happened once, but it happened. That was when Ona realised her feelings for me,” the captain explained.
“So… on Monday, the day after I went to your place and we kissed,” you said, turning to Ona. “You kissed Ale?”
Ona nodded, biting her lip. 
“You kissed a week ago and you didn’t tell me?” you asked, frowning. 
“Ye-es, but-” Ona started, only for Alexia to cut her off as well.
“Si. Ona felt guilty and left immediately, but then we thought of something. She figured that you liked me, and we thought, what if all three of us could be together?”
You let out a harsh laugh, taking both women by surprise. “What?”
Alexia’s face remained composed. “What if all three of us could be together? You like me and Ona, Ona likes you and me, and I like both of you. What if we could all be together?”
Your brain felt like it was melting. “Wait, and you thought of this last week?”
The blonde nodded. “Si.”
“Is that why you were acting so weird all week, why you kept pushing me and saying weird stuff about Ale?” you asked Ona, who had the decency to look apologetic as she nodded. 
“We wanted you to think about this yourself, we didn’t want to push you so soon after your accident, and-” 
“So you decided the best way to do that was by lying to me? After I told you, told both of you, how upset the lying made me, especially after the accident, especially after I lost all my fucking memories and couldn’t even trust what my own brain was telling me?” you ranted. You were pissed off- no, you were angry. How could they do this to you? Regardless of anyone’s feelings, how could they lie to you and go behind your back like this?
“Ona, you made me feel fucking crazy!” you exploded, turning on her. “After I told you how upsetting it was not to know myself, you made me feel insane.”
The younger player had gone pale as she realised just what she’d done and how she’d made you feel. “I- I’m sorry, I-”
“And Ale! All that talk about how you would treat me like an adult, you’d let me make my own decisions. So that was just bullshit, huh? Guess I’m not adult enough to make my own decisions about things like my own relationships.”
Alexia winced at your words. “No, amor, I-”
“Save it,” you said. “I’m done talking to either of you.”
As the door swung closed behind you, the sound echoed in the hallway. It was only when you left the building and felt the warm Spanish sun beaming down on your face that you realised you were crying.
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disneyprincemuke · 6 months
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midnights, 5 * mv1
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max knows how much you hate thunderstorms, and he can't help but think of you when he's home and there's one
pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader
warnings: nothing~
notes: some might say i'm using midnights as a way to cope with my rough breakup from like 7 months ago but i can't be too sure (oversharing is my personality)
(prev) // (next)
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max had been on his driving simulator playing a game when the rain started to pour about 10 minutes ago. he didn't even realise that it had been raining that heavily until jimmy and sassy curled up by his lap.
now he's on the couch, both cats snuggled up into his thigh with the tv on. from the corner of his eye, he notices the crackling bright lights that break up the sky that’s often accompanied by a rumble.
it started off soft, but it’s gradually getting louder.
his mind starts to drift to you. max doesn’t imagine you’re sleeping well in these conditions - or that you're even able to. you’ve always hated thunderstorms in the middle of the night, claiming that all the ruckus is more disruptive than relaxing.
on nights like these, he would typically hold you tight in his arms. he would be sat up against the headboard while you lie on his chest, chatting with you as a distraction from the noise. on rare occasions, he would brush your hair until you’ve fallen asleep on him.
he wonders how well you’re coping with it now that he’s not next to you. he glances at his face-down phone, wondering if he should check in on you just for tonight.
it wouldn’t have to lead to anything — he just wants to make sure.
he just needs to ensure you’re not curled up into a ball in a corner with your hands on your ears. he can still remember it like daylight when it happened the first time.
it was your very first night in his apartment, and you’d both fallen asleep very early in the evening. at some point in the night, it started to rain heavily. a particularly loud thunder had shaken him awake but when he tried to pull you closer to his body, he realised you were no longer in bed with him.
he muttered your name and found you curled in the far corner of his bedroom. your knees were pressed to your chest, chin resting on top with your phone on the ground with a video illuminating your face. even with your airpods in, you still had your hands over your ears.
you weren’t crying, but you were definitely shaken up quite a bit. he managed to get you back into bed but you didn’t fall asleep for another 2 hours. so he stayed up with you in hushed whispers and muted giggles until you drifted off to sleep on his chest.
thunder rumbles, actually surprising him with its intensity as he juggles his phone from falling on sassy. even his cats flinch at the loud sound and snuggle even further into his thigh.
now he’s growing even more concerned about your whereabouts. when there’s a thunderstorm and you’re apart because of his race, he tries to call and talk to you until the storm has passed.
but it seems that he’s lost that privilege to ask if you’ll be okay tonight. he doesn’t even know if you’d answer his message.
the paranoia of your wellbeing never leaves, because he keeps glancing at his phone for a call or message from you. if you called him right now and asked him to come over, he would go to you without a doubt and another thought.
his phone lights up and buzzes, actually making his heart jump in his chest. the excitement immediately disappears when he finds out who the notification is from.
it’s just daniel, asking him if he’s doing fine over the break.
daniel hasn’t left him alone since his confession that night in qatar. though he was able to leave the bar on his own, the older driver was knocking on his hotel room door 10 minutes later.
daniel just hung in his hotel room until he fell asleep. max assumed that he wasn’t trusted to be on his own after a confession that shook daniel, because he was gone by the time he woke up the next morning.
max has tried asking alexandra about you, once after the main race in qatar. but she just shook her head and gave him a weak smile before walking away. charles could only mimic his girlfriend's response with a pat on his shoulder, promptly moving on to talk about other things.
nights like these, max usually sleeps peacefully. unlike you, rain and thunderstorms mixed with the darkness of the night calm him. since your distaste for the combination, he has learned to enjoy it differently.
he loves the late-night conversations he shared with you and having your weight on him. he misses the intimacy of just lying in the dark room with you, talking and mapping out your future together.
your future. your future that suddenly seems like a blurry hallucination, once being the only thing that he would look forward to when he would think about the course of his life. your future that's now obsolete.
max doesn't fall asleep at a reasonable time that night. he waits for the weather to calm and everything to go silent before he does. it's his way, on his own, to feel like you're still here with him. even if you're not.
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taglist: @merchelsea @leclercdream @labelledejourr @laneyspaulding19 @lpab @graciewrote @hollie911 @thatsojasminesworld @mycenterfold
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dreamauri · 5 months
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hii!! i love your writing and i have an idea. toto wolff’s daughter used to date max but they broke up (bc yk mercedes and redbull rivalry) and she starts dating a footballer (it can be anyone that you want but i was thinking mason mount), but out of nowhere they break up and he shares in a podcast idk that shes still in love with her ex, max. id love to see how this would end 🫶🏻
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┊𝗕𝗟𝗔𝗖𝗞 𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗗𝗔𝗬𝗦 ┇︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦˚₊   ┇ . 🌿 :: pairing — ( max verstappen x fem! wolff! reader ) ┇ . 🫧 :: ⁠genre — ( angst )  ┇ . 🌿 :: ⁠word count — ( 2, 104 )  ╰ 🫧  :: ⁠ content warning — ( X )
★ ☆ This was from like august, im so sorry its so late. ik the annon said anson mount, but i dont really know his personality that well, so you can just imagine any person you want ig ━━━━━
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( main master list | more of max verstappen ) ( requests )
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2021
Everything was so blurry. You could see the illumination coming from your phone, little blurry grey and blue texts. You couldn't feel your body, ragged, unsteady breaths falling to and from your lungs.
"Block him. And delete his number. I don't want you to go out with him or be seen with him ever again." Your father's strong voice was the only sound in the room. You looked up at him with pleading eyes, but he wouldn't even look at you, rubbing his eyes as he sat on the bed of your hotel room.
Too many things were happening at once. This wasn't fair. This was wrong. "Aber papa." [but dad] "My words are final, Y/N." He spoke with such authority and strictness, you hated it when he was like that with you. Looking back down at you phone, you saw the 'seen' under the last bubble of text you sent.
Panic shot through you like a sharp arrow, hurt climbing through you. Scrambling quickly, you block the number and delete the contact. You couldn't bare to see the reaction or the reply. And you stood like that for a few minutes, the world falling apart as Toto talked. But you weren't listening. And you didn't want to listen. You didn't want to hear his voice.
And before you were to even realize it, you'd smashed the phone against the wall.
You tore the Mercedes shirt off your body, replaced it with a random sweater, stomping around the room, collecting your things. "What are you doing?" Toto stood up, watching you stuff you belongings in your bag. He held your wrist to stop you but you only yanked your arm back, shouting something at him, anything at him.
Toto was defiantly taken aback. He's never seen his little girl like this. Eyes red with tears, yet so angry. He never even thought he'd hear such hurtful words from you either. No father ever wants to hear 'i hate you' from their daughter, and it hurt right in his chest. You shoved the Mercedes shirt in chest, zipping up your bag and headed straight for the door.
"My love—" "Ich bin keine tochter von dir." [I'm no daughter of yours] Was the last thing he heard from you before the door was slammed shut.
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
2023
The Las Vegas GP had truly ruined the city. Max couldn't even have a nice drive from his hotel to the circuit in peace. The traffic was heavy and the honking was loud. At this point if max could, he'd just dump the car in any corner and walk the few kilometres himself. But he couldn't. And this added another reason as to why he hated this Grand Prix so much.
Try something else, he told himself. Disconnect. Max turned on the radio flipping through the channels every two seconds when his ear caught something. His stomach was flipped upside down and he was pretty sure he felt like his lungs would explode.
"You broke up with Y/N L/N recently." "Yeah, I have." "But she was such a nice girl." "She is. She really is. She wasn't clingy or needy. Like the perfect amount." "And beautiful as well." "Very beautiful, if you get what i mean." The men on the podcast laughed. Max felt him self frown. How dare they talk about you like this was some sort of goldy locks story.
"Yeah, She's perfect and all. But she's really hung up on her ex. You didn't even have to ask her, you could just look at her and tell that she wanted something else. I'm not going to say names, but the guy really fucked her up."
fucked her up? Max felt his heart skip a beat, or even more likely, it stopped beating at all. He turned the radio off quickly, gripping the steering wheel till his knuckles bled white. Of course he had fucked you up, no wonder things went the way they did. They shouldn't have went that way. He should've never gotten his rival team's boss' daughter to fall for him.
No! What was Max thinking? The months he spent with you were the best things that have ever happened to him. It wasn't his fault. How would he know the Mercedes and Red Bull relationship would grow so bitter. How would he knew you'd be caught in the cross fire. He spends one winter break with you and then it all rips to shreds.
Was that why you changed your Last name? So he wouldn't find you? Must've been since it did work in your favour.
Y/N L/N.
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Y/N L/N, Max thought as he typed the name into google. Your face was the first thing to pop up and Max had to hold down a gulp.
You definitely grew up. The playful and bubbly aura to the girl had almost completely dissipated, leaving a quiet and mature woman who looked very serious and uninterested, with a defiantly much more womanly body, enough to get you on the cover of vogue.
"You okay, mate?" Max looked up seeing Checo. They were gonna do the opening ceremony at any moment and the world champion did not look like he was in his head. Max quickly swiped off the tab and shrugged. "Nothing, just some drama." The blond waved it off, tucking the phone in his pocket.
The teams were being announced, starting with HAAS all the way up in the constructor ranking. "I never took you for a person to be interested in drama and stuff." Well, Checo was correct: Max wasn't into that kind of thing. He just happened to stalk his ex by accident since he couldn't get the thought of her out of his head.
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
"You lied to me." You huffed, stuffing your hands in your pockets, refusing to take a step further. "I didn't lie to you, technically. I just didn't tell you." Your friend shrugged, hooking her arm with yours and forcefully pulling you along while you tried to resist. "I don't want to be here, you tricked me." "I did."
It was certainly a sight. Lady gaga dragging Y/N L/N at the paddock of the Las Vegas GP. "The cars dont bite, N/N." "Yeah! That's because I'll be the one biting you!" The woman quickly let go of you at the threat. You went to walk out only to find people looking at you with exited and confused eyes. The exit was now too far.
With a dissatisfied sigh, you held out your hand and Lady Gaga took it, continuing to pull you along. "Today's just the race. So we'll watch. We'll wave the flag and then we'll leave." "I'm not waving the flag." "I'll do it."
You folded your arms, watching from the bottom of the grid on the side as the drivers arrived on the grid. The cars were lined up with car #16 and #1 on the top row, thankfully far away from you. Thankfully, the Mercedes were also far enough as well. You definitely wouldn't stand out in some non-flashy hoodie and shorts. You would've dressed better if you knew you were going to end up being forced into this.
People didn't really notice you at all, more concentrated on the drivers and celebrities. But they soon did notice you, a celebrity being pointed at by a driver. 'No way' Danny ric mouthed, face bright with surprise, a wide smile and arched eyebrows. He waved you over, and waved even harder when you shook your head in decline. You didn't want to appear rude. So you stood to his side, side hugging him as he rambled on about how much you missed. And you listened. You couldn't hate danny. he was like a big brother since f1 was practically your life.
"You should've told me you were coming, ya know." "I didn't even know I was coming." You chuckled, looking around.
FUCK! you looked away quickly, cutting the eye contact with Max short. Bad idea. Very bad idea. You thought, heart hammering in your chest.
"He still loves you." "Huh?" You looked up at Daniel confused. "Max." "no no." you shook your head. "He does." "he doesn't." "He was searching you up." You paused. "I saw it, your name on google." "That's called stalking—" "But he still thinks of you." "good point . . ." "You should think about it, considering how things ended. I think you should at least be on the same page." ". . . thank you danny."
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
"Oh shit." You looked at gaga confused. "Hold this for a second, something's in my eye." She handed you the chequered flag, more like shoved it into your chest while she went to fix her eyelash.
"A little faster." Your hurried, hearing the cars come around turn 17. But gaga took a step back continuing to try and fix her issue. With a huff, you stepped forward, leaning your body on the railing, waving the flag just in time for Max who crossed first.
When all the cars finished the last lap you finally took a step back, flexing your wrist tiredly from doing all these Xs. You turned to see Gaga smiling at you, her eyelashes long forgotten because there wasn't an issue all along.
"You suck." You grumbled, and she laughed taking the flag from you. And just like that, finally you were able to get out of there. The crowds were too busy watching the podium ceremony to see you exit and leave through the parking lot.
You plopped in your car, turning on the engine. You couldn't bring yourself to drive out though. The excuse would be that the engine was still not warm enough. But really, you didn't want to leave behind those blue eyes again. they deserve an explanation for what they read that night two and a half years ago. But it's not like max would know you're waiting for him, or find you if that's the case. How would he know you're waiting for him in your car?
Well however he knew, he knew. The passenger door was opened and the Dutch man sat in the seat next you. You didn't even realize he had been looking for you throughout the whole parking lot, hoping to see you again. You've been looking down at your hands for goodness knows how long. You only looked up one you heard him cup his hands together and blow into them.
You cleared your throat, turning the seat warmer on for him. He must've gotten used to the warm Monaco weather for a cold city like this. The two of you sat in silence for a couple minutes. You didn't dare to look back at him, because you knew he was looking at you. And if you looked at him, who knows what would happen next because for sure you're still fucking dying to kiss him.
"Max, I'm sorry." / "Y/N, I'm sorry."
The two of you froze, looking at each other. "You go first." Max nodded.
You took in a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts. "I didn't mean to end things that way." and i didn't want it to end, you wanted to add but opted to leave that out. "Torger barged in my room and told me to end it right then and there. I didn't really have a say in anything." You sighed deeply, scratching the back of your neck. A moment of silence dawned in the car until Max spoke again.
"That explains the spelling mistakes." he chuckled lightly, opening his phone and scrolling through until he found your message chat. You could see the 'ts pver' and 'domt tezt or tqlj to me wver afqin' messages at the bottom. an un received message holding the words 'wait what?' 'baby whats going on' you never saw these messages, you'd blocked him by then.
"We should've talked." You admitted. "In person- discussed things. This wasn't fair to you . . . I really am sorry. I should've never let someone take control of me like that. I ended up hurting you."
". . . I always thought you hated me." You sprung up eyes wide as you turned to him. "No no. Never." You shook your head. You weren't even over him. "I don't hate you, I never did, Max. You're too amazing and important to me for that." You didn't even realize the words coming out of your mouth.
The words that led the blond to cup the back of your neck and pull you into a kiss. A kiss he'd been waiting almost 3 years for.
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