Tumgik
#like I knew she was the one behind the whole experiment
modernsapphicism · 1 day
Text
I have made mistakes, I continue to make them
Summary: Of all the things that Janis had predicted how this little stunt of theirs would end, Regina George being hit hy a bus wasn't one of them. Suddenly, all the overwhelming feelings she had buried deep down all those years ago comes resurfacing all at once over the sight of seeing the person she once called her best friend lying on the ground, helplessly bloodied and bruised. Something that Janis didn't think she would ever witness in her lifetime. Or, Janis' experience throughout the bus incident.
Warning(s): Just a little angst
Janis didn't see it. Somehow she wish she saw so she could've done something, anything.
She was being swallowed by the crowd, too hyped up by the moment to notice the giant yellow bus that came hurdling towards Regina. The blood-curdling screams of the students made her hyperaware of the surrounding and the next thing she knew, the bus had stopped and Regina was on the ground, a few feet away from where she was last seen standing in front of Cady.
The whole school was in shock of what happened, the red-head more than the rest of the students behind her, knowing full well she was in the front-row of the accident. Cady wasn't moving, most likely from the shock. She just stared at Regina's body with tears running down her cheeks. This wasn't supposed to happen.
It all came so fast and so slow at the same time. Janis doesn't remember much details from that moment but she does remember screaming and running towards Regina. No one has moved an inch and there was a student on the ground, bleeding out. Janis was seething with anger mixed with sorrow.
Janis ran and screamed. She screamed to the crowd to get the teachers, get the principal, to just fucking get anybody while she hurriedly settles down next to Regina's body, desperately wanting to touch the blonde, to cradle her, but refused to do so in order to avoid hurting her any further.
She looked down even with tears slightly blurring her vision and sees Regina bloody and bruised and dirty from all the dust and dirt of the road. She sees red splotches mixed with dirt and debris of the road, some few gashes from the inmpact and scraped skin from the rough road. Regina's eyes were barely open and was threatening to close any minute. Janis kept talking to her.
Regina stay with me, help is coming.
Don't you fucking dare close your eyes.
Fuck, Regina. Dont' you fucking dare go.
Regina, dont go...
Regina, stay, please...
Regina, I'm sorry...
And with the last words uttered, Regina's eyes fluttered to a close and Janis was terrified.
The next thing she knew, Janis was being dragged away by a teacher. It didn't even register to her that an ambulance had came and every adult in the whole school had come out of the building and surrounded the scene.
She didn't want to leave her friend's side so the best thing Janis could do was to scream and run once again. She managed to slip out of the teacher's grasp on her arm and ran towards Regina who was being assisted by the paramedics. It didnt last long until she was caught by Mr.Rapp and Mrs. Norbury, their grip strong but not hurting.
She flailed around, kicking and screaming, doing everything she can to escape their hold on her but any attempt was useless. Her body was slowly shutting down as well. Tears are still streaming down her cheeks and she sobbed uncontrollably. Mrs. Norbury kept talking to her, saying that it wouldn't do any good for anyone if Janis kept screaming at the people trying to help Regina. Her voice was almost a whisper but somehow Janis registered the words despite the blaring sounds of the ambulance, the chattering of the people standing by, and the sobs of some students. Janis resigns all her attempts and stands limply while being supported by the teacher, Mr. Rapp now standing a few feet beside her, and Mrs. Norbury still holding Janis by the shoulder and her back, this time her grip wasn't meant to stop her, but rather to at least comfort the student.
A second later, a car pulls up on the scene, revealing Mrs. George, frantic and devastated. Janis hears her shouting at Mr. Duvall, asking questions to him, the paramedics, and the police, to whoever would answer her questions of How did you let this happen? Who's responsible? Where is my daughter? Will my daughter be okay?
This was one of the few moments she saw Mrs. George act like an actual parent. Despite her flaws, Janis knew that Mrs. George cares and loves her daughter a lot. Regina was her mother's everything. Janis' heart sank at the scene.
That was the last moment Janis could clearly recall before her mind blacked out.
Janis didn't even know how she came home that day. She was told that her mom had picked her up and drover her home. She was allowed to take a few days off of school to process what happened. The whole class was permitted to take some time off just to sort everything out.
Few hours later, the news broke out that Regina had died for fifteen seconds but was luckily revived. The surgery was successful but she was still in a coma.
Janis stayed in bed all week, barely moving and barely eating.
Damian had texted her just to check if she was doing okay. Janis didn't have the energy to respond and left him on read.
The next day, Damian came over. Janis couldn't hold it in anymore at the sight of her best friend. She blamed herself for everything and sobbed all night.
She shouldn't have started this whole revenge party. She only wanted Regina to get a taste of her own medicine, not whatever nightmare this is.
18 notes · View notes
soamericn · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝜗𝜚 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄
🐰ྀི₊˚⊹ ‘ one night he wakes strange look on his face pauses, then says you're my best friend and you knew what it was he is in love ‘
𝜗𝜚… summary , ( f!yn x oscar piastri ) oscar piastri is head over heels for his best friend, though he keeps his feelings a secret. he wins his first race in f1 and after seeing her cheering him on in the crowd he can’t hide his affections any longer.
𝜗𝜚… type , irl
𝜗𝜚… faceclaim , up to your imagination <3
𝜗𝜚… triggers , there is none
𝜗𝜚… authors note , my first f1 one shot! I'm really proud ngl and it's as cute as I was hoping! hope ya'll enjoy!
🐰ྀི₊˚⊹ masterlist
Tumblr media
all he could hear was his heartbeat in his helmet; it flooded his ears like static on a radio. After getting out of the car without a thought in his head, he stepped onto the car in front of the halo putting both of his arms into the air. 
Adrenaline flooded his senses, his colorful helmet shined under the night race lights. The cheers were overwhelmingly loud as each voice blended together into the sea of people. 
Subconsciously so, his ears searched for one voice in particular, one that was soft and comforting. The one he’d share a laugh with until three in morning. Or would tease him inexplicably. But the voice was stirred in with the rest. 
Oscar stepped down from the car, and the first thing he did was run into the ocean of papaya. Many hands covered him, patting his back or helmet hearing many compliments on his win. After a minute or so of drowning himself in the praise and affection from his team he stepped away removing his helmet and placing it on a pedestal. 
He ran a hand through his damp hair, it staying in place as he did so. A hand landed on his shoulder and he turned, seeing a man in a matching suit who pulled him into a hug. “Mate you did great.” He complimented, his voice directly in his ear.
The Australian didn’t realize how truly speechless he was until someone directly spoke to him. The words formed in his throat but never made it out of his mouth. 
Lando pulled away with a light two taps on his back. “Thanks, maybe not pelting me with champagne could be a good job present.” Oscar jokes. 
The Brit lets out a small laugh and shakes his head, “Oh c'mon you need the full podium experience-” Oscar’s attention on Lando was cut off, the voice. 
The one he’d scanned for, moments before the voice had made itself known. She shouted his name from behind the short fence with the rest of the crowd desperately trying to get the man she’d known for most of her life’s attention. Oscar’s eyes searched the crowd, until they found her, he could’ve picked her out in any crowd his entire being always seemed drawn to her.
“Oscar!” His best friend. The only one he’s ever really known. Always supporting him, even today adorning herself in all papaya wearing a jersey he’d known for a fact had a huge eighty-one on the back (and might’ve been stolen from his closet), all for him. 
Oscar rushed over, as soon as he’d spotted her after the race, he just knew he needed her in the moment. The calm, composedness of his being suddenly dissolved into the smokey air. Still with a small fence between them he wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her into a tight hug. Her arms naturally floated around his neck, they fit together perfectly like two puzzle pieces made just for one another. Camera flashes flooded their sudden embrace, and he lightly lifted her into the air as he tightened their hold on one another. They could’ve done the whole podium ceremony, everyone could have gone home and Oscar would’ve stayed here with his arms around her always.
“You did so well today.” Her voice was soft, the words only meant for him. She only wanted him to know how proud she was of him. How much her heart raced as he crossed the checkered flag, and how much support she’d carried with her for him through everything.
His impulsiveness took over as soon as he heard her speak, he wasn’t thinking about anything in that moment, not the cameras, the thousands of people that surrounded the pair, and certainly not the feelings he carried for her for many years; the feelings he kept deep down for too long, way too long. He only thought of her, the way her soft voice tickled against his skin and the flush it brought to his already red cheeks.
Placing a delicate but firm hand on her cheek which she covered with her own hand, her cheeks turning a light and kind shade of pink and a gentle smile formed from her lips. The lips Oscar just happened to notice how pink and heart shaped they’d been and how soft they looked compared to his own chapped ones.
Oscar slightly looked down and she’d looked up at him, her eyes seemed as if they were looking into him, as if she could’ve read his thoughts. Standing like this for a second, there was a moment where the Australian had contemplated, was he going to possibly ruin a friendship over his own feelings? Before he could even think about not doing it, her eyelashes fluttered warm and innocent and he filled the gap between them. 
They were perfectly made for one another. They moved in sync, and she’d tasted of an orange mocktail and strawberry chapstick and everything that's made her, her. His thumb lightly stroked her cheek, and his arm snaked around her waist holding her tightly. 
Both her arms ended up around his neck, smiling sweetly into the kiss and giggled lightly into the Aussies mouth. Not hearing the reactions from the crowd surrounding them. 
When Oscar pulled away they’d both missed the warmth and comfort of one another. But realization hit him like a tidal wave, remembering all of his actions so clearly except for how her arms fit so perfectly around him, and the way she’d smiled at his affections. 
His hand removed itself from her waist and mind started to race and he pictured missed calls, a missing eighty-one jersey in the crowd, losing the praise of a voice that motivated him to be better. He’d completely zoned out at this point and she’d used her hand placing it back on his freckled cheek and directing him to look at her. Of course she’d know what he was thinking. 
She always did. 
She’d looked up at him, a small glint in her eyes, that made Oscar wanna kiss her all over again but he held back, fear filling his chest so tightly he’d felt like he’d choke on it. He’d race cars at 300km/h without as much fear as he felt now. 
Placing a hand on his other cheek, she stood on her tippy toes reaching his lips giving them a light peck. Her way of saying everything was gonna be okay. His cheeks flushed a deep shade of red and his arms comfortably made its way back around her waist and his hand slid up her back.
She looked up at him, anticipating him to make a move. Though she was impatient, she pulled his racing suit collar down and her lips landed on his once again. He gasped in between his lips, a small surprise of her sudden affection. 
“I think I’ve always loved you.” He whispered into her mouth in between kisses, her heart shaped lips formed in a smile against his. 
She pulled away, lightly biting his bottom lip, “you think I didn’t?” She grinned a light giggle leaving her lips. 
It was like a candle had been relit in Oscar’s head, a candle that flamed only for her. A flame that reminded him how much he needed her, how much he’d been needing her. His arms tightened around her almost possessively so, he reveled in the taste and feeling of her, and how she finally knew that most of him was hers.  
Tumblr media
𝜗𝜚… tags , @whitcferrari @miguelasdr @lcvelctters @cedarbcws
1K notes · View notes
lixzey · 1 month
Text
lovelorn
Tumblr media
luke castellan x daughter of apollo!reader
word count: 7004 words
summary: you and luke have been friends since the day the two of you met. you've had a crush on him since the two of you were fourteen; needless to say, he doesn't know about your feelings.
warnings?:  unrequited love, oblivious luke, jealousy, falling for your best friend, reader writes songs and plays guitar, reader lowkey hating the girl luke likes, faking, heartbreak, reader is friends with everyone and juniper the dryad, use of nicknames between reader and luke (melody and charming), swearing, will loves his sister!!, platonic chris rodriguez x reader, platonic clarisse la rue x reader, and platonic silena beauregard x reader (chris calls her sunshine, clar calls reader sunny, while silena calls her love), mention of fainting and dehydration.
a/n: take note of every little thing in this first part, because i laid clues for what's gonna happen in part two.
August by Taylor Swift is the song she sings during the camp fire.
ONE. TWO. THREE. FOUR.
You smiled as you watched your best friend teach your younger siblings how to wield swords, which was futile, as children of Apollo tend to be better at archery than sword fighting. 
But Luke was patient with your siblings, which always made you smile. Maybe it was from experience. Having a cabin full of mischievous kids tends to give experience in being patient with hyperactive children.
You were sure you could stare at him forever. Bright brown eyes full of mischief paired with a contagious, kind smile.
“Y/n, are you listening?” Dawn snapped her fingers in front of your face, pulling you out of your daze. “You’re staring at Luke again, gods, you are hopeless.”
“I wasn’t staring, Dawn,” You rolled your eyes, turning your full attention to your younger sister. “Now, what were you saying?”
“You were, you ain’t fooling me,” Dawn teased, a smirk on her lips as she leaned back against the hard stone walls of the arena. “Anyway, are we singing at the campfire tonight?”
You scowled at your younger sister, your gaze landing back onto Luke. “You’re annoying, you know that?”
“I know, but I’m still the best sibling you got,” Dawn grinned cheekily. “So, are we singing or not? Or are you just going to ogle at Luke the whole day?”
Your cheeks started to heat up, like being kissed by the sun in the early morning. “We’re going to sing, happy now?” you grumbled, averting your eyes away from the senior counselor of the Hermes cabin. 
Dawn smiled triumphantly, rising to her feet. “I think I’m going to join Lee and Michael,”
You raised a brow at her. “You’re shit with a sword.”
“Yeah, but it’s better than watching you hopelessly be in love with him,” Dawn jerked her head in Luke's direction. “Frankly, it’s nauseating.”
“Shut up,” you grumbled, rolling your eyes. 
Dawn snickered, starting to walk away. “I’ll leave you alone to daydream of Luke sweeping you off of your feet, leading you up the stairwell-”
“Shut up!” You snapped at your sister, who was still snickering.
“Is everything okay?” A voice you know oh so well spoke behind Dawn.
“Oh, it's nothing,” You quickly said before Dawn got another idea to embarrass you. “Dawn was just going to train with Lee and Michael. Right, Dawn?” You say through gritted teeth, making your sister chuckle.
“Yeah, I’ll leave the two of you to talk.” And with that, Dawn finally left, golden hair dancing in the wind.
“You okay, melody?” Luke asks, sitting beside you, concern etched on his handsome face.
“Yeah, I’m alright.” You smiled, trying to look genuine despite wanting to kiss him and run your fingers through his curls like it’s the end of the world. 
You never wanted to be in love with your best friend. You knew the consequences of it—thanks to your friends from cabin ten's constant reminders, but your stupid heart just wouldn't listen.
You've known Luke since the night he and Annabeth arrived at camp when you were fourteen. You'd been assigned by Chiron and Mr. D to tend to Luke and Annabeth’s wounds and bruises, being the head of cabin seven and the best healer camp has to offer and all.
Luke was charming, you had to give him that, charmed you into letting him attend training one first day despite not being healed properly yet. And then, half an hour later after he left the infirmary, one of your siblings brought him in—one of his wounds that you patched up, bleeding and was unconscious after insisting that he was okay minutes ago. Annoyed, you put him on bed rest. When he woke up hours later, he insisted to be let go—wanting to prove he can be better than that Ares kid he sparred with.
“Come on, doc, I’m okay now!” Luke raised his arm, but winced at the pain beneath his underarm. “See?”
“You are going to lay in that bed and you are going to rest. Doctor’s orders.” You simply said, humming a song as you checked his wounds for any infection.
“But-” 
“One more word out of you, and I’ll curse you with bubonic plague.” You said, stuffing a cube of ambrosia in his mouth, smiling sweetly at him.
Luke chuckled, raising his hands up—wincing through it—in defeat. “Alright, doctor melody.”
“What?” you asked, brow raised in confusion. “Melody?”
“You’ve been humming, you know, while fixing me and Annabeth up last night. And you did it again, just seconds ago.” Luke explained with a small smile. “Aren't the children of Apollo good at music too? Like, singing? Since he’s the god of music and all.”
“Yeah, he is,” You smiled, reaching to hold the sun shaped locket dangling from your neck. “Apollo, god of the sun, archery, art, music, poetry and a shit ton more.”
“Can you sing for me, melody?” Luke grinned, sitting up. “C’mon, it’ll make me feel better, promise.”
“I’m not gonna get out of this, am I?” You ask, laughing softly.
Luke shook his head. “I’m stubborn, I’ll just ask you again and again, so you might as well do it now, melody.”
You rolled your eyes, chuckling. “Aren’t you just charming,”
“I’m waiting, doc,” Luke teased. “I can’t wait for an eternity like the gods.”
You shook your head, a giggle escaping your lips. “Fine, fine, but do you promise to rest your stubborn ass for the night?”
Luke nodded. “Yes, ma’am!”
“Okay, here goes nothing,” You muttered, taking a deep breath. “And they called it puppy love. Oh I guess they'll never know.
How a young heart really feels and why I love him so…”
Luke started clapping his hands. “Damn, melody, that was amazing!”
“Oh, shush,” You waved a hand dismissively, feeling your cheeks heat up like the sun, as if your dad kissed you on the cheek. “I’m not that good.”
Luke raised a brow. “And I thought Apollo was the god of truth,”
“I am telling the truth,” You insisted, folding your arms over your chest.
“Whatever you say, melody.”
From then on, you and Luke have been friends. Never one without the other, the two of you made it a pact. 
“Michael and Lee are getting better with swords,” Luke commented as the two of you watched your younger siblings.
“Better?” You snorted, tying your hair up in a ponytail. “They are far from getting better, charming.”
Luke reached up to mess your hair. “You saying my methods aren’t great, miss melody?” he asked, feigning annoyance.
You hit him playfully on the shoulder. “All I’m saying is those kids,” you jerked your head to Michael and Lee, who were getting ready to duel like medieval princes as Dawn laughed her ass off. “Are shit with a sword.”
“Fair point,” Luke chuckled. “Let’s just hope they learned a thing or two from me.”
“If not?” You asked with a raised brow, passing him a bottle of strawberry flavored energy drink. Your hand grazed with his, sending shivers down your spine, better than any cold could. 
“At least they have you,” Luke gave you a lopsided grin, opening the bottle of red sugary liquid and bringing it to his lips to quench his thirst. You could see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he downed the energy drink, the beads of sweat on his forehead and neck made him even—if possible—more handsome, making you gulp and look away.
“Yeah,” You squeaked out, your eyes widening at the tone of your voice, mentally slapping yourself for it. “They’ve got the best sister.”
“Damn right, they do,” Luke agreed, capping the now empty bottle. “You are the best sister Lee, Michael, Dawn, and the rest of your siblings could have, melody.”
You smiled, pushing out a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. “Thanks, charming,”
“No need to thank me, melody. I mean, it is the truth. That you are the best sister to your siblings and bestest friend to me.”
You felt your heart break a little. You wanted to be more than just being best friends with Luke. You wanted to be his muse, the girl he loves until his final breath. Maybe Aphrodite had cursed you or something, because Luke never saw you more than a friend or a sister.
“I’m the best,” You agreed, trying your best not to sound sad or anything about your feelings for him slip out.
“You hungry? I think it’s lunch time.”
You nodded, fixing your hair back up in a ponytail. “Yeah, you?”
“Starving, like I could eat a pegasus. Come on, let’s get some lunch and eat by the docks.” Luke stood up, stretching his arms and legs. “You comin’?” He asked, offering his hand to help you stand. 
“Of course,” You beamed, reaching for his hand. “Let’s.”
You followed Luke out of the arena, before yelling over your shoulder. “Dawn, you’re in charge of the boys! Don’t let them die!”
“Yeah, Dawn! Don’t let ‘em die!” Luke yelled over to Dawn with a laugh as the two of you strolled away, leaving your siblings and a few other campers at the arena.
“Race you to the mess?” You challenged, a teasing grin on your face.
“Not fair, Y/n!” Luke scowled as you started to run ahead. “I just trained kids!”
“Too bad, Lukey,” You stuck out your tongue at him. “Last one there cleans the stables!” 
“Oh no, you don’t!” Luke scoffed as you ran ahead of him, laughing as he easily caught up to you. “I’m not cleaning the stables!” He said, lifting you up with his strong arms and placing you on his shoulder, making you yelp.
“Put me down!” You giggled, playfully hitting his toned back.
“I don’t think so, Miss L/n,” Luke then ran towards the dining pavilion, with you still on his shoulder, screaming like an enraged harpy.
“Luke Castellan!” You shrieked, gripping his shirt for dear life, earning the amused looks of other campers. “Put me down, put me down!”
“Your voice sounds better when you aren’t screaming, you know that?” Luke commented, his pace slowing to a brisk walk.
You hit him hard on his back, again and again. “Put me down, Castellan! Now!”
“Ouch, woman, that hurt!” Luke grumbled, finally relenting and putting you down on the ground, just a meter away from the pavilion.
You pinched him on the side. “You son of a bitch!”
“Ouch!” Luke yelped, jumping slightly. “Violence is never the answer, woman!”
“Violence is never the answer,” You mocked him, rolling your eyes. “I’ll do whatever the hell I want, thank you very much.”
“Fine, fine, let’s just get food,” Luke placed his hands on his hips, catching his breath for a minute. “All that running with you on my shoulder got me extra hungry.”
“You’re the one who lifted me like I don’t weigh a thing!” You retorted, pushed him slightly. “I literally weigh like a minotaur!”
“Nah,” Luke dismissed, slinging his arm over your shoulders. “You don’t weigh that much. Stop thinking that you are.”
“Whatever,” you grumbled, making your way to the long table where all the food the dryads made for the day are served.
An array of food greets you as soon as you arrive at the table, Luke two steps behind you. There were bowls of fruit—strawberries, apples, and grapes—bread in all sorts of shapes and sizes, a container of mac and cheese (which you know has broccoli and carrots blended in to sneak vegetables in picky eaters’ food), and some other options.
“Look, there’s some waffles and pancakes,” Luke pointed to a platter of said breakfast items beside some yogurt parfaits and (tofu) sausage.
“You go get the waffles and pancakes along with some yogurt and ask Lily for some extra,” You pointed to the yellow haired dryad, Lily. “I'll go get the fruit and bread. You want some mac?”
“Nope.” Luke said, already making his way to the waffles and pancakes. 
You chuckled, shaking your head before heading over to Juniper, a red haired dryad in charge of the fruit and bread.
“Hey, Junie,” You greeted, smiling at the dryad. “Got something for me?”
“Just these,” Juniper pointed to the array of pastries and bread. “Mr. D allowed the Demeter kids to get some croissants and tarts from a bakery in Manhattan.”
“Oooh,” Your mouth was already watering as you eyed the lemon and blueberry tart and those flaky croissants. “Can you put some in a picnic basket? Luke and I are going on a picnic by the docks.”
Juniper smiled brightly. “Are you and Luke going out on a date?”
You choked on your own saliva. “What?”
“You know, have you told him about your feelings yet? Are you boyfriend and girlfriend now? That’s what boyfriend and girlfriend do, right? Dates?”
“Shh!” You quickly shushed your friend. “No, I haven’t told him yet! He doesn’t know!”
Juniper frowned. “It’s so obvious you like him,”
“He’s stupid, I know.” You sighed, picking up a strawberry.
“Your siblings and those Aphrodite kids figured out you liked him years ago.” Juniper said as she filled up a picnic basket with tarts and croissants along with strawberries, grapes, and apples.
“Maybe one day,” You smiled, a hopeful look in your eyes. “When Aphrodite decides to reward me with a perfect love life.”
“I’ll pray to Aphrodite for you,” Juniper smiled, boosting your confidence up. “You deserve to be loved.”
“Thanks, Junie.”
“No worries, your secret is safe with me.” Juniper chuckled, she then passed you the picnic basket filled with food, looking almost like a cornucopia. “Here you go, packed and loaded for a picnic.”
You gave Juniper a grateful nod, mouthing a quick thank you before turning to go and find Luke, the picnic basket locked in both of your hands.
You walk towards Lily the dryad’s station, but Luke wasn’t there anymore. Instead, you walked around the large dining area, eyes scanning the place for your curly haired best friend.
When you finally spot him, your heart sinks.
Luke was talking and laughing with a girl. A girl you know to be a child of Athena, a sister of Annabeth Chase.
You felt the picnic basket in your hands grow heavy, along with your heart feeling like it’s slowly sinking into a bottomless pit.
Lacy Matthews—pretty, smart, beautiful, kind, stunning, intelligent. 
Nothing like me.
Luke leaned on one of the pillars of the pavilion, eyes steady on Lacy as she discussed with him about something—probably architecture, like Annabeth would always ramble to you.
Hair gold as the sun, eyes gray as stormy clouds, skin like puff pastry, and a mind sharp as blade, no wonder Luke would like her.
You contemplate, whether you walk to Luke and disturb his talk with Lacy, or just walk to the docks alone and eat the food Juniper packed as you cry your heart out. Maybe pray to Aphrodite while you’re at it. 
You sigh, taking a very deep breath, before making your way to them with shaking hands.
“Luke?” You ask as soon as you’re in earshot. “You ready for the docks?”
Lacy looks at you first, smiling sweetly at you. “Oh, hi Y/n! How are you?”
You stood there, silent for a minute. Feeling a myriad of feelings all at once, taking you over like a spirit. “I’m….okay.” you answer after what felt like eons.
“Your skin hair looks amazing,” Lacy compliments you, but it feels more like bullets on skin. “I wish I had your hair.”
You give her a tight smile, turning your attention to Luke. “Docks?” you ask, hoping he’d get the gist of it. 
“Oh, Y/n,” Luke scratches the back of his head, your heart breaking another of its pieces at the mention of your name. He always calls you melody, your name feels like poison out of his lips. “Can we take a rain check? Lacy and Annabeth need help with cleaning cabin six, you know, books.”
“Tonight, then?” You ask with a shaky breath. “After the bonfire?”
“Tomorrow, l guess?” 
“Uh, yeah, sure. No problem. I’ll see you? I guess.”
You quickly turned around, the basket of fruits and pastries still in your shaking hands as you made a beeline towards the nearest exit, your heart beating fast like pegasi galloping in the wind. Your eyes stinging like a fresh cut you wanted to just drown in antiseptic.
“Y/n?” You heard a small voice from behind, you whipped your head to see your little brother, Will Solace. “I cut my hand on a sword.” he mumbles, lower lip shaking like yours.
You kneel to his level, the basket still in your hands like they had their own minds, refusing to let it go—maybe hoping that Luke would reconsider and go with you to the docks instead, but you knew deep inside that it was a long shot.
“Okay,” your voice was hoarse, as if there were thorns blocking the back of your throat. “Let’s get you fixed, is that alright?”
Will nodded, blonde hair falling into his face, blue eyes hiding underneath them, making you chuckle. At least I have something else to think about for the meantime.
“Come on,” You reach your hand out for Will to take. “Let’s get some cute band aids for that cut.”
Crying on the docks would have to wait.
Will takes your hand as the two of you head to cabin seven where you keep a box of medical supplies just in case. You didn’t feel like going to the Infirmary, you were just too tired to do so.
“Why are you sad, sissy?” Will asks, big innocent blue eyes looking up at you.
“It’s nothing, I just have dry eyes. Think I need some eye drops.” You answered the younger boy, trying not to be, well, sad.
“I can feel that you’re sad, you don’t have to lie to me, sissy.” You look at your brother, how in Apollo’s name did he know? He was only seven, and wasn't even trained properly yet.
You sighed, pushing out the hair from Will’s face. “I’m just bummed.” you answered honestly, at least you tried to.
“Why?” He asks further. “Maybe I can help.”
You took a deep breath. How do you explain to a child that you are sad and hurt because the boy you like chose a girl over you, his best friend. “I’ll tell you when we get to our cabin, alright?”
“Okay,” Will agreed. “I’m gonna do my best to help you sissy!”
You tried suppressing a laugh, but failed miserably. Will was like a literal ball of sunshine. Since he arrived at camp a little over a year ago, he’d become a beacon of hope for you. You’d cling to your little brother when shit goes wrong for comfort, and he did the same, it was like you had an empathy link with him.
As soon as the two of you stepped onto cabin seven’s premises, you let Will run to his bed—he wanted to get the macaroni bracelet he made you—while you went to get your medical supplies.
“Look, sissy! I made this for you! I made one for Dawn too, and Lee and Michael!” Will excitedly showed you a blue and yellow colored macaroni bracelet. “Do you like it?”
You smiled, kissing the top of his head. “I love it,” You slipped the bracelet onto your wrist. “I’ll never take it off.” you promised the little boy—who was smiling from ear to ear.
“Okay, so are you gonna tell me now why you’re sad?” Will asked, straight to the point like an arrow through a bullseye.
You sighed, rolling your eyes playfully as you dug through your medical kit for some bandaids. “Luke and I planned earlier that we’d head to the docks to have a little picnic, but last minute…he, uh…”
“He what?” Will pushes further, peeking as you went through looking for your medical kit.
“He kinda ditched me? I don’t know if that’s the appropriate word, but instead of going with the original plan, he asked for a raincheck to go and help Lacy from cabin six clean out their cabin.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Will looked up at you as you poured antiseptic on a cotton ball, wiping it on his cut. “He’s helping others.”
“Oh, sweet baby boy,” You sighed, remembering that Will was still a child. “I like Luke—no, maybe I love him at this point. And I’m sad because I’m jealous and he chose to be with her after he asked me to a picnic that I was looking forward to, because I wanted to spend time with him.” You took a deep breath. “Even if I didn’t have romantic feelings for him, it still hurt because he picked her over me, he was my best friend first before everything.”
“What do you want to do?”
“What do you mean?” You ask, brow raised as you placed a bandaid on the cut.
“Are you mad at Luke? Do you wanna prank him because you are? Or curse him to be sick for a week?” 
“William Andrew Solace!” You chastised, shocked at what he had suggested.
“What? He hurt you, he deserves it.”
“He hurt me, yes, but he does not deserve any of what you suggested, William.”
“He hurt my best big sissy, so he deserves it.” Will muttered under his breath.
“William,” You sighed, tucking behind a strand of your hair behind your ear. “What he did was wrong, as a friend. But I don’t have any right to be angry at him for liking Lacy, I’m just his friend, nothing more.”
Will’s face softened. “You deserve everything, sissy,” he then reached up, placing each of his hands on both of your cheeks. “You are the best sister in the whole world. You deserve to be loved, like the way you love me and everyone else.”
You smiled, tears stinging the corner of your eyes, your heart swelling with love from your little brother. You may not have the love of the boy you loved, at least you had your brother’s making up for it, masking up the heartbreak, even just for a little while. 
“Alright,” You wiped away a single tear. “You’re all fixed.” you pat him on the cheek, wiping the sweat away on his forehead. 
“I love you, sissy!” Will says as he wrapped his arms around you.
“I love you too, kiddo,” You chuckle, ruffling his blonde curls, kissing his forehead. “Go find Dawn, she’s at the arena. Watch Lee and Michael duel like idiots. Don’t tell them I told you that.”
Will nodded enthusiastically, before sprinting out of cabin seven. “See you later, sissy!”
You let out a shaky laugh, feeling the loneliness eat you up as quick as it left. Your eyes landed onto the basket with food still packed for two.
Luke still wasn’t going with you down to the docks.
You choked back a sob, grabbing the basket and your guitar and notebook from your bed before heading out to the docks. You might as well kill time until the bonfire, alone with your breaking heart.
You didn’t stop at anyone, walking straight to the beach with your guitar strapped onto your back and the basket wrapped between your arms. You just didn’t have the will to talk to anyone, even your friends and siblings.
The salty smell of the sea breeze infiltrated your senses as you approached the beach, the docks that you and Luke always hung out at nearing  your view. You took a deep breath, letting the soft breeze take over you as you stepped onto the wooden platform, the waves crashing beneath it. You set down the basket, sitting beside it as you pulled your guitar to the front, your fingers lightly strumming a little tune—one you knew like the back of your hand, the song Luke always asked you to play.
“'Cause if one day you wake up and find that you're missing me and your heart starts to wonder where on this earth I could be,” You sang, trying your hardest not to just break down despite the tears you had been pushing back were threatening to spill. “Thinking maybe you'll come back here to the place that we'd meet and you'll see me waiting for you on the corner of the street,” you sniffled softly. “So I'm not moving, I'm not moving.”
You can’t help but wonder what would Luke do when you leave camp for good. Would he be sad? That you, his best friend, gone with the wind? Or would he ask you to stay?
You wished that you didn’t know the answers to your own questions your own damn mind plagues you with. You wished that he knew he was all that you think about every goddamn night, that he was the reason for those teardrops on your guitar, that he was the only thing that kept you wishing on a wishing star. 
You sighed, grabbing your blue notebook that you had slid inside the basket and the pen you had packed alongside it. You needed to let it out, even just on another tear streaked paper.
You hummed a little melody as you continued to write what you felt, your chest burning with untold stories.
“Hey, sunshine,” You heard a voice call from behind you, whipping your head around almost immediately, nearly dropping your notebook into the sea.
“Chris,” You gave him a small smile, adjusting the strap of your guitar.
“Mind if I join you?” Chris asks, walking closer to you but stops a few steps from you with a grin plastered on his face.
You quickly closed your notebook, stuffing it in the picnic basket. “I don’t mind,” You scooted to the side to give him some space to sit, your hair blowing in the gentle sea breeze. 
Chris nods at you, making his way to the vacant spot beside you. “So, what are you up to?” he asks, leaning slightly back. “You weren’t at archery practice earlier.”
You shrugged your shoulders slightly. “Just wanted some time alone, I guess.” you turn to look at the basket sitting unopened beside you, wondering if you should offer Chris one of the pastries. “What about you?”
“Luke,” Chris chuckles, he rolls his eyes with a shake of his head. “Can’t stand him making out with Lacy in cabin eleven.”
“Oh.” You say, the pain and sadness slipping out in your voice, your heart, now broken completely as another fresh set of tears threatens to spill. “Well, good…good for him.”
Chris raises a brow at you, noticing the tremble in your voice. “You okay?”
“I’m okay,” You lied, wiping away the tears that spilled from your eyes, hoping Chris wouldn’t notice. “Do…do you want, uh, a croissant?”
“You are not okay,” Chris says, pulling your hand away from your face. “You’re crying, what’s wrong?”
“No, no, it’s nothing,” You sniffled, trying to assure him that you were alright, but he wasn’t believing any of your attempts to cover up what you were feeling.
“C’mon, you can tell me,” Chris tells you with a soft smile. “I won’t tell anyone, promise.”
You turn to look at him, your eyes now red and puffy, tears still streaming down. You felt numb, broken, and empty. You didn’t have the words to try and tell what was happening inside your heart and mind. All you could see, against your will, was the image of Luke kissing Lacy.
You wanted to scream, you wanted to jump onto your feet and storm over to Luke and hit him for hurting you this much, and you even wanted to just jump into the ocean and let the salty water fill up your lungs so you couldn’t breathe the same air as them.
“You like him, don’t you?” Chris asks, his smile fading.
You blink back your tears, Chris’ words echoing in your head. “I love him.” you whimper, wiping your tears away.
Chris sighs, scooting closer to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “I knew it, I figured you liked him years ago. I’ve known you and Luke long enough to know how different your looks at each other are.”
You lay your head onto his shoulder, your tears spilling still as you silently sobbed. “It’s not fair,” you mumble out. “It’s not fucking fair.”
“Hey, hey, it’s okay, let it all out, it’s okay.” Chris soothes, rubbing your shoulder to comfort you. “You’re hurt, you deserve to cry.”
“Am I ugly? Unlovable?” You ask with a shaky breath.
“Hey, hey, hey, look at me,” Chris cups your tear streaked face in his hands. “You are not unlovable. You’re the kindest, most selfless, and loving person out there. You help everyone in need, you make people smile, and don’t get me started with how your music makes everyone feel. How would that make you unlovable? You are very lovable. You are loved, your siblings, your friends, everyone.” 
Chris pushes strands of your hair away from your face. “And you are most certainly not ugly. You are beautiful. You are beautiful like the sun, like a sunflower, especially when you smile—radiating beauty like rays of sunshine. Luke is too fucking stupid to not realize how lucky he is to have you loving him.”
“The boy who I love is now in love with someone else,” You murmur, moving your head out of Chris’ hand, closing your eyes. “He’s the only one who's got enough of me to break my heart.”
“It’s his loss, not yours.” Chris says, rubbing circles around your back. “He’s a fucking idiot, for hurting you. Even if he doesn’t know.”
“She’s pretty, I’m n-” 
“Stop it, stop,” Chris cuts you off. “You are beautiful, pretty, stunning, dazzling, whatever the hell you want to call it. Don’t you dare compare yourself to her, you are far better than her. She’s beauty and brains, but you? Beauty, brains, talent, and a big heart.”
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” You hiccup, wiping your tears away.
Chris scoffs playfully, shoving you slightly. “I’m trying to comfort you, woman.”
“Thanks,” You chuckle, moving your hand to the basket beside you. “Want a croissant?”
“Eating your sorrows away, huh?”
You rolled your still red and puffy eyes at him. “I’ve got a basket full of it,” You explained, bringing the basket onto your lap and opening it, the smell of the pastries mixing with the salty ocean breeze. “Luke and I planned to eat these here, but bailed on me to help Lacy.”
“That son of a bitch,” Chris grumbles, reaching for a croissant. “Wasting food and bailing on his best friend.”
“I mean, Hermes is a bitch,” You snort, picking a blueberry tart up. “So, technically…”
“Yeah, well,” Chris bites into his croissant, crumbles falling into his lap. “I’m not one to dump my best friend for a girl.”
“Not even for Clarisse?” You ask, a teasing smirk on your lips.
“Clarisse would beat me into a pulp if I did.” 
You smile at Chris. “Thanks for being here, even by chance.”
“I’ll always be here for you, sunshine,” Chris ruffles your hair, making you laugh. “That’s what friends are for.”
“Thank you for making me feel important,” You took a deep breath. “I needed that.”
“You are important, never think that you aren’t.” Chris gives you an assuring smile. “So, is the tart good?” 
You let out a giggle, your eyes going to the tart in your hands. “I think so,” You raise the blueberry tart to your lips for a bite, your eyes lighting up. “Mmm, gods this is good!”
Chris laughs at your reaction. “Good, huh?”
You nod, licking your lips. “It’s divine, better than cookies!” You say, taking another bite. “This is my new favorite dessert!”
“There’s the sunshine I know,” Chris chuckles, an amused look in his eyes. “The light in everyone’s lives.”
“Now you’re just fueling my ego,” You giggle, reaching for another tart.
“It’s true,” Chris insists. “Ask anyone—except Luke, ‘cause he’s an idiot—and they’ll say the same things I told you.”
You roll your eyes playfully, raising your hands in defeat. “Fine, fine,” You say through a bite of your tart. “You win.”
“I’m amazing,” Chris says with a cocky smile. “The best, even.” 
You groaned playfully. “Note to self, never tell Chris Rodriguez he’s right.”
“Hey!”
You burst out laughing, nearly falling off of the dock as you leaned forward if Chris hadn’t grabbed your arm. “Sorry,” You say through fits of laughter, the sadness and hurt you felt just moments ago, fluttering away. “You get…wait,” you wheeze out, clutching your stomach. “So cocky when someone tells you you’re right, but you end up looking constipated!”
Chris gasped, feigning offense. “Take that back!”
You shook your head, laughter still coming out of your lips. “Never!”
“I hate you,“ Chris fake grumbles, an amused look twinkling in his eyes. “You’re a meanie!”
You burst out laughing, again
“Yeah, go ahead and laugh your ass off, sunshine,” Chris shoves you playfully. “It’s the best medicine out there!”
Out of breath, cheeks flushed, you leaned flat against the wood platform. “Chest hurts,” You wheezed, though still smiling.
“Well, you did laugh like a fuckin’ lunatic, sunshine.”
“How am I going to sing at the bonfire tonight?” You say through breaths, mentally kicking yourself for not bringing any water—despite being surrounded by it.
“You can do it,” Chris assured you as he laid beside you, leaving enough space that you’re not uncomfortable. “I know you can. You’re camp’s best singer, you can’t fuck up the best thing you’re good at.”
“You think so?”
“You’ve been singing for as long as we’ve been friends, sunshine,” Chris yawns, stretching his arms up. “Pretty sure, you’re gonna nail this, like you always do.
Tumblr media
You were regretting your decision to come to the bonfire.
Here you were, sitting beside your siblings, across Luke and Lacy—arms linked together like they’d perish if they didn’t. 
The mere sight of them shamelessly flirting made you want to vomit everything you ate, and maybe even your brains out. It was sickening, how Luke smiles as Lacy whispers something into his ear, her delicate fingers around his biceps.
You wanted to walk up to him and drag him by the ribbon on his left arm—which was one of Lacy’s probably, watch him burn into ashes, but decided against it. Because, one) Hestia wouldn’t approve of it, two) well, he’s still the love of your life and best friend.
It was torture for you, watching them be happy. It makes you wonder, how the hell did they get that close. They had started talking just hours ago, but now? They looked like lovers reunited after the war.
What was so special about her? You ask yourself again, even though you knew the goddamn answer. Smart, sexy, Lacy. God, she was making you crazy. Dazzling starlet, like a Bardot reincarnate. And then there you were—messy hair, paint stains everywhere, guitar string marks, flab on your belly and arms, band aids in your pockets, basically nothing like her. 
Luke looks at her as if she was the sweetest thing on this side of hell, like she was the greatest thing to ever exist in this world. 
Like ribbons in her blonde hair, your stomach was all in knots. She’s got the one thing that you ever wanted, wrapped around her finger without even trying. 
The fire continued to burn golden-orange flames as your siblings led the song Down by the Aegean, everyone was happy and content, except for you.
Jealousy lingered around you like a moth drawn to the flame. Making it hard for you to concentrate on anything else aside from Lacy laying her head on Luke’s shoulder as he toasted marshmallows for both of them. The thought of them plagued your mind, despite trying everything to keep it away from your thoughts.
Stupid brain, stupid heart, stupid Luke, stupid Lacy, stupid love.
“Hey, sis?” A voice snapped you out of your insecure thoughts. You looked up to see Lee standing just a few inches to your right, looking at you with concern. “You okay?” He asks, his voice laced with worry. You then realized that everyone had stopped singing, and all eyes were on you—except those lovebirds who were making googly eyes at each other, as if they were the only person left on this damned world.
“Uh, yeah, I’m okay.” You say through gritted teeth, hoping no one would notice.
“It’s time for your special song, sissy.” Will nudges you from your left side.
Oh. You thought. They were waiting for you.
“Oh, right,” You chuckled nervously, reaching for your guitar from Dawn.
You didn’t know what to sing. All the thoughts and memories in your head seem to have faded into dust.
You shakily strum a chord on your guitar, your fingers gliding over the metal strings. The guitar was a gift from your dad, enchanted to play whatever you had in mind with just a few strums of your fingers. 
You sigh, letting your fingers do all the work, hoping you could give the people around you your best. 
I can see us lost in the memory,
August slipped away into a moment in time
‘Cause it was never mine. 
And I can see us twisted in bed sheets, 
August sipped away.
Like a bottle of wine 'cause you were never mine,
You sang, the words coming out of your lips so naturally, all of what you felt pouring out like water. You saw the sympathetic eyes of your friends from the other cabins—the ones who knew about your feelings for Luke.
Your siblings were trying their best not to give you the biggest hug in the whole world, especially Will, who was sitting beside you. 
Some were confused as to why you were singing about some boy because you’ve never done it before. They hadn’t thought that you had feelings, too. 
Back when we were still changing for the better
Wanting was enough
For me, it was enough
“Shit,” You heard someone curse from cabin nine. “The fire’s blue!”
You look up, blazing blue, meeting your eyes. Hestia’s fire had never burned blue before.
“Beckendorf, this isn’t funny!” Someone yells in the background, amongst the whispers.
“We’re not doing…..anything,” Beckendorf trails off, as if he had been silenced all of a sudden.
To everyone’s surprise, the blue—almost black—flames burning in the firepit started to get bigger and bigger, as if they were swaying to the tune as you played.
To live for the hope of it all
Cancel plans just in case you'd call
And say "Meet me behind the mall"
And finally, as you finished up the song, from the corner of your eyes, a sore sight to behold. Luke and Lacy were making out, and they couldn’t have waited to even be out of sight—barely a meter away—before devouring each other’s faces.
So much for summer love and saying "us"
'Cause you weren't mine to lose
You weren't mine to lose, no
You weren't mine to lose.
Luke grabs Lacy’s waist, pulling her closer. They looked happy, and it was tearing you apart. They were killing you slowly, like a dagger was lodged in your throat, and they were twisting it. 
Cause you were never mine, never mine…
You felt tears filling your eyes like a dam, and anytime was ready to explode. But, forced them back down—at least, you tried to—hoping to save a little more dignity for your name.
Lacy has everything that you have to live without. She should hold him tight, and give him all her love. Look at him straight in those beautiful brown eyes and know she's lucky because Luke was your everything—your life, your world, everything. 
As the image of them faded from your peripheral view, you stared into the blazing fire in front of you. Now, red, blue, and black flames were dancing together, almost as if Hestia could feel what you were feeling.
You sigh, placing the guitar down, feeling arms wrap around you. You look up, seeing Chris, camp necklace dangling from his neck. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” he murmurs, rubbing both of your shoulders.
“You want me to put his head on my spear, Sunny?” Clarisse asks, sitting opposite of Will. “One word from you, and I’ll skewer him.”
“You’re overwhelming her, Clar,” Chris says. “You don’t deserve this, sunshine. Yet, he doesn’t deserve you.”
“Do you want to spend the night with us, love?” Silena asks from beside Clarisse. “A little girls' night could help.”
You shake your head, the tears you’ve pushed aside spilling like an opened dam. “I’m okay,” you say, clearly lying. You knew your friends could always see through your lies.
“Come on, let’s take her to seven. She needs rest.” Your brother, Lee, interrupts. “She looks dehydrated; why the fuck is she dehydrated?”
“Language,” you weakly say, the view of the fire blurring. “Swearing, s’bad.” 
“And delirious,” Dawn mutters beside Lee, holding Will close to her.
Before you could retort a reply, your vision slowly went dark, and faint voices were screaming before you completely passed out. 
Luke was immediately jolted awake from his honeymoon daze by the sounds of frantic screams and yells, just a few steps away from him and Lacy.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Lacy asks, her delicate hands cupping his face, lips swollen from kissing just a few seconds ago.
“You heard that?” Luke asks, pushing her slightly to the side. “I heard screami-”
Luke cuts himself off at what he sees.
Chris is sprinting to the Big House with you, unconscious in his arms. Luke’s heart starts to beat rapidly—faster than ever before—as his legs subconsciously take him in your direction.
“Melody.”
Lacy stands there as Luke makes his way to you, huffing and arms crossed in annoyance. “What the hell, Luke!?” She yells after him, but it’s like he hears nothing. 
taglist:
@lilmaymayy @mischiefmoons @m00ng4z3r @woodlandwrites @sflame15-blog @the-sylver-dragon @ceruleansx @evsolostheuniverse @patitotodd @jennapancake @kur0m1sblog @emryb @onecojg @caramelandvenus @y0urm0m12 @hottiewifeyyyy @7s3ven @atashiboba
1K notes · View notes
amaranthineghost · 18 days
Text
NOW IM BACK IN OUR EMPTY APARTMENT, LOOKING AT THE PIECES I WISH WERE YOU ( max verstappen. )
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
max verstappen x reader
an imperfect relationship between world champion max verstappen and a busy college student now filled with more tension as he fails to hold his tongue after a disappointing race.
authors note: love writing for max, i might have to do it more!!!
HE DIDN'T MEAN FOR THIS TO HAPPEN. it snowballed into something he had imagined before but never would've expected it actually happening to him. he could normally control his temper, especially when it came to her. sure, there was a few moments that stood out in his career when he had gone over the limit on certain occasions, going as far as to push another driver, but he would always separate his home life and his career.
at least he would try to. the australian grand prix hadn't played out like he had wanted, or anyone for that matter, because no one wants their car to get fucked and have to retire. especially on the third lap, it was just embarrassing. he was struggling the entire weekend, though his spirits temporarily lifted when he had managed to get pole position. he knew he would, but after the struggles throughout the practice sessions, he hadn't been too sure.
he just wished she would've been there to see it, but she was stuck in their apartment with their cats, jimmy and sassy. she had to do her college work, that was due all too soon, before she could go running around to his races. despite being financially supported by her talented boyfriend, she wanted things to do when he wasn't around, and while school work wasn't exactly many people's cup of tea, it was hers.
she liked the possibilities that came with the experience and maybe one day, she could land a job that would put her in line with her beloved driver. sure, she loved visiting the paddock as a wag, but she would love it more from behind the scenes. of course dating a driver, she already gets to see more than the average person, but she wanted to do something worthwhile with her time in the paddock.
he understood, but he had the only condition of letting him pay for her schooling. debt wasn't fun, and he wouldn't let her fall into that burden. besides, max would love to be able to see his girl working hard in the paddock, but now he wasn‘t so sure if she was his anymore.
he was agitated, she was stressed, and they both knew they didn't mix. they should’ve just waited to see each other in person, but they were both missing each other at the time.
she watched the race on the tv in their bedroom with her laptop on her lap with her latest, big assignment due in the next few days. she was struggling, and she figured it was better to get as much time to work on it as possible so she opted out of flying to australia. still, she watched, hardly stressed, because she knew max was an amazing driver.
but come the race on sunday, his dnf shocked her. she was riddled with worry and part of her wished she had been there. maybe if she had been, this whole thing could’ve been avoided, but the stress she felt now would’ve only worsened had she been with him.
upon the smoke trailing out of his car, hearing the commentators say he had dropped positions, seeing the puff of smoke when his car rolled down the pit lane, the fire on his brake duct, she shut her laptop instantly. now she was sitting on the edge of the bed, eyeing the screen closely, phone on standby to call him after. she leaned her head on her hands while her elbows dug into her legs.
she watched his tense answers to the media, his uninterested attitude because she knew all he wanted to do was get to his driver's room for peace and sulking. she knew and yet she still made the mistake of calling him right after.
she hadn’t waited long for him to answer, but he didn’t answer right away. hearing no answer from his side of the phone, she spoke first.
“hey,” she spoke as gently and nicely as she could.
“hey.” his voice was short and straightforward, as if he didn’t care about anything she was going to say.
finding the right words to say was like walking on eggshells and there wasn't a lot of room to go. she just hoped she took a step in the right direction when she asked him, “how are you doing?”
“what do you think?” she sighed, biting at the inside of her cheek
“not great,” she muttered, he hummed back in response, which just made her even more unsure of her next words, “ ‘m sorry you has to retire from the race.”
“sorry doesn’t fix the car,” she heard him mumble under his breath, earning a scoff from her.
“excuse me?” her tone was like she had accused him of something, “i get you’re mad right now max, but that doesn’t mean you can be an asshole. i’m just trying to help.”
he scoffed back and she could feel the eye roll he would’ve given her, “yeah, well you're not.”
“what is wrong with you?” she stood up, anger coursing through her.
“i don’t know, maybe the fact that my race was fucked and now you’re bitching to me about my attitude.”
she hadn’t thought before speaking, in moments of high stress she just said whatever she felt, and so did he. what she felt right now was annoyance and anger, “fuck you max,” was all she could spit back, taking a deep breath being speaking again. “news flash, you’re not the only person in the world dealing with shit, it's one race that you got out on, grow up.”
with that she hung up, and he heard the dial tone from his phone, regret beginning to seep past his clothes and into his skin, his nerves, his brain. he just majorly fucked up the most important thing in his life because to him she was more important than his career points, the car, the championship, his entire career, and he just threw her aside in the height of his anger.
he tried calling back immediately after he realized what he had just done, but it had just gone straight to voicemail. when that all failed, he spammed texts, or paragraphs more like, about how sorry he was and how she didn’t deserve the attitude he gave her, but it did nothing.
she sat and watched as the texts and missed calls flooded in. while she understood he was angry, it didn’t give him the right to talk to her like that so she left her phone unanswered while she had gotten up to pack. in less than a few hours, she knew max would be back in this apartment, probably on his knees, begging for forgiveness from her. she knew she would forgive him the moment he did so she wanted to get away before he could.
it didn’t take long, she hadn’t packed her entire life away, but a single suitcase and carry-on bag was enough to last her until she decided to patch things over. taking one last look over her shoulder, one last pet of their cats before she had closed the door behind her. knocking on the apartment door of their neighbors to ask them to care for the felines like they did whenever he left for races and she went alongside him.
but in recent months, moreso in the 2023 season, she found herself attending fewer races than she used to because of the growing tension and stress between the pair. it didn't help that they didn't talk it through, they couldn't because they didn't have the time. she had college, he had formula one, and they both had no time to meet in the middle to amend whatever was broken before. whatever was broken remained as such and only cracked further as time went on and the pressure increased.
they knew they should've come together and met in the middle, but they were both petty and too stubborn. it was another reason they clashed, but they also just worked so well.
he was hoping this was going to be the one time they could've found that time to talk, to sit down and have a deep conversation that lasted hours, that they would've ended up getting side-tracked from and begun to talk about random topics, like they used to. laying on her back with her head in his lap and his fingers through her hair as they laughed at funny memories, or moments they had experienced together.
but when he came home to a quiet, empty apartment, he knew. he knew he shouldn't have hoped for something that was unlikely to happen. his cats rubbed against his legs as he walked about the apartment. dirty dishes that had yet to be washed sitting in the sink, blankets unfolded in the couch and doors left open. the air was stale without her presence and he was left to wallow in it. her absence was a sting against his skin as he kicked off his shoes, seeing a couple pairs less than what there usually was, hanging up his coat alone because hers were now gone.
everything was a reminder if how he had treated her, the words he spat like venom all because he had retired from a single race. he can't stop hearing her venomous last words to him, her tone was like he was the scum on the bottom of her shoe. he might’ve well have been because he sure felt like he was. a piece of trash for the way he spoke, granted he was angry, but he didn't have the right, he never would have the right to talk to her like that.
the floorboards creaked under him, cutting through the silence only interrupted by the sounds of his clothes brushing together as he walked. he peered into the various rooms of the house, seeing half the items she would normally have that had been left behind. pieces of her he was left to further sulk with.
it was cruel, but he understood cruel was what he deserved. he deserved seeing the messy, unmade bed that remained empty for hours after she left. covers pulled back like she had just gotten up to see him, except she hadn't.
she was gone, and he hadn't known where, or if she would even come back. he could only hope that she wished to mend their cracked and shattered relationship as much as he wanted now.
he could only hope.
taglist (found here): @slut4lrh @taylorslovesswifties13 @sbella13 @kaa212 @nhlfs @thearchieves
proofread by @foreveralbon <333
769 notes · View notes
keerysfreckles · 4 months
Text
cookies — luke castellan
Tumblr media
pairing: luke castellan x hephaestus fem!reader
summary: in which luke finds y/n, in order to tell her something he's been meaning to for the past two years
warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns, i think thats it ??? making out/kissing
a/n: I FINISHED TLT TODAY- idc if luke is evil (if evil why pookie)
꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱
y/n l/n thought her life at camp half-blood would've felt like a fairy tale. two years later, she was deeply misguided.
the camp experience itself wasn't bad. she loved meeting the new campers, and bonding with her cabin mates, and seeing luke from time to time.
but even when she got claimed by her father, hephaestus, y/n still felt like a square trying to fit in a triangle hole. hephaestus was the god of forge. fire. craft. creation.
when y/n first arrived to camp, she met luke. he didn't know why, but out of all the campers in hermes cabin, he felt as though he needed to protect y/n the most.
two and a half weeks after meeting luke, y/n had been claimed by her father. the boy was sad to see her leave, but glad as well, due to her being claimed to a new cabin.
as soon as y/n and chiron entered the doors of hephaestus cabin, the duo was met with seven boys. five of them were around the same age as the girl, and the other two looked no older than ten.
this made y/n feel even more out of place. yes, they all made her feel at home, and they still do. y/n just can't help but feel isolated.
less than a week after y/n was claimed, she unfortunately found out forging wasn't the exact type of creation she was skilled at. she tried pottery, metalwork, jewelry making, and even knitting. the girl was crushed when none of the activies suited her.
until one afternoon, she was in the kitchen after helping bring in dirty dishes from lunch. a few ingredients caught her eye, and she instantly started bringing them together and made something delicious. chiron soon came inside, and was both surprised and pleased y/n had found her activity. cooking.
this leads y/n to where she is right now. the camp kitchen. ever since the fateful day she discovered her gift, she rarely ever left the kitchen. y/n was considered the new cook of camp, and she enjoyed everything about it.
recently, the girl has taken baking into her small circle of talents. which explains why all day y/n has been baking cookies for tomorrow. it was percy's birthday, and annabeth asked her to make blue chocolate chip cookies for him, one of percy's favorite foods. she had to make enough for the whole camp. almost one hundred cookies were already baked and cooled, and she had one hundred more to go.
annabeth kept checking on y/n every so often, to see her progress (and to make sure she took breaks and to not overwork herself). two times the younger girl came in the kitchen, her and y/n talked for a bit. y/n kept teasing annabeth at all the staring she'd been doing towards percy lately. to be fair, it was annabeth's idea to have the cookies for percy's birthday, so y/n knew something had to be going on between the two tweens.
y/n doesn't notice the person who had entered the kitchen. she heard footsteps, so she guessed it was annabeth.
luke stood in the doorway of the kitchen. he took a moment to admire the girl in front of him. y/n stood behind the kitchen island, with a metal bowl, a baking sheet, and other multiple baking utensils layed out over the countertop. luke could smell a batch of cookies in the oven at the right of the kitchen, along with the fresh ones all placed on the counters behind y/n.
luke finally knocks on the door, making y/n look up from rolling balls of cookie dough. a smile was quick to fill her features, "hi luke."
luke walked over towards her, leaning on the island, standing across from her.
"how are percy's birthday cookies coming along?" he asks, seeing the girl still at work.
y/n nods, "they're going," she laughs, "that's for sure."
"i was looking for you earlier," luke admits, as he continues to watch y/n at work.
looking up from her blue stained hands, y/n sees a small blush covering luke's cheeks. "oh yeah?"
it's luke's turn to nod, "yeah, but the hephaestus boys said you'd be in here."
y/n chuckles, before the two sit in a comfortable silence for no less than a minute.
"did you need me for something?" y/n asks, as she takes two baking sheets to the oven. luke only laughs while watching y/n open the oven with her foot, as her hands were full.
"i just wanted to come check on you," luke moves to side of the kitchen island y/n was previously on. "you have made quite the mess in here."
both luke and y/n look at the batches of cookies, the reminants of cookie dough on the counters, empty bowls in both of the sinks, and flour on the kitchen island and floor.
"what's the real reason you wanted to see me luke?" y/n asks the boy, knowing that he had a tell when he was nervous. he always licked his lips before speaking.
"what? i can't just want to see a dear friend of mine?" he jokes.
"oh you can," y/n responds, "except, whenever you visited me you always wanted seconds, or an extra dessert."
luke doesn't repsond right away, knowing y/n had a point.
the boy licks his lips, nervous from what he's about to tell y/n.
"do you ever wonder why i might've been more protective of you over the other campers? when you first joined hermes cabin?" luke asks, catching y/n off guard.
y/n shakes her head, "no, i never really thought about it before."
luke takes a deep breath, "you seemed more special to me."
y/n's eyebrows furrowed, only making luke continue.
"you just seemed so different from the other campers i've met. special. i just had to protect you. i still feel like i have to."
"luke, i don't get what you're trying to say," y/n admits. luke's confession is only making her confused.
"then i don't have to say it," luke's voice is soft.
y/n's confusion returns, but only for mere seconds before she feels luke's lips on hers. she pulls away from the him, out of shock at what he had just done.
his eyes instantly met hers. his filled with worry as if he messed everything up the two had between them.
before luke could start to overthink everything, y/n leaned up to kiss him. his eyes closed, and his hand went to both sides of her face.
y/n's lips tasted like sugar, with a hint of salt. luke guessed it was from tasting her cookies to get them as perfect as she can for percy's birthday.
luke's lips tasted like a campfire. y/n could only assume it was from the smores hermes cabin had after winning capture the flag that day.
y/n's hands were still blue, and in order to not stain luke or his clothing, she opted to wrap her arms around his shoulders. she felt luke's hands on her waist, only pulling her closer to him.
soon enough luke's tongue pushed through y/n's lips, which caused her to giggle. luke loved her reaction.
before anything could get more heated, a timer goes off in the small kitchen. the loud shrill made luke and y/n stop their movements. y/n only looked at luke sheepishly. the girl leaned in once more and pecked the boy's lips, before retrieving the cookies out of the oven.
"do you want any help?" luke asks, watching y/n again as she started rolling out more balls of cookie dough.
she nods, "if you don't mind your hands getting blue."
luke laughs, "i'm willing to take that chance."
1K notes · View notes
assassinsblade · 4 months
Text
Forget Me Not | 5
It is your turn to experience guilt and regret, while Azriel takes some time to himself.
WC: 4.4k
Warnings: TW: SA, brief mentions of suicidal thoughts/ideations!!! Please do not read if this is triggering for you. Angst, feelings, we are all sad but we are taking a turn for the better!
a/n: All of the comments and responses to Part 4 were seriously incredible. I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday tomorrow if they celebrate!!
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6
-------------------------------------
Azriel's shadows surrounded him before he could command them to do anything else. Darkness swallowed his vision, his chest, his heart, gods, he was dying wasn't he? Was this what dying felt like?
He felt like he couldn't breathe. Pain was searing through his chest as if a fiery sword was sticking from his ribcage, and he barely felt his knees crashing to the ground underneath him.
He didn't know where he had subconsciously winnowed to until he heard his brother's voice, filled with shock and confusion.
"Az?"
Hands were pushing his shoulders back, trying to get him to unfold from himself, to stop grasping his chest. His chest, his chest, his chest, it burned-
"Feyre, get Madja."
Azriel tried to shake his head, but he was so dizzy he couldn't tell if he made the movement or not. He vaguely heard Feyre's movements shuffle to a halt. Rhys must have stopped her at his attempt to say no.
"What happened?" Rhys questioned, voice strong despite the panic slowly making its way in.
Azriel was sobbing. He didn't know when he had started, but he knew he had broken. His own chokes and cries echoed in Rhys' office, his tears falling onto the cold marble floor beneath their knees. Pain laced across his skin from his fingernails digging into his own flesh, and he felt Rhys trying to pry the grip away.
"Kill me," Azriel sobbed. "Please, kill me. Do something, just make it stop-"
Rhys dove for his brother at the words, pulling him into a tight hug. The embrace did little to help with the overwhelming torture raging within the shadowsinger. He was going to die, he wanted to die.
He had never hated himself more, hated how it felt like his body was going to eat him alive if he took one more breath.
The constant memories shooting behind his eyes like poison: his mother mistreated by the Illyrian men while his hands burned, Mor left naked and alone in that forest with a sign punctured to her womb and him not arriving until hours into her pain, Rhys walking into a trap because he hadn’t seen it and hadn’t stopped it, Gwyn violated and tortured because he hadn’t been aware enough to spoil the plot or get there soon enough, and then you — your bloody body being carried in Cassian’s arms, clothes torn off, having been forgotten by him.
"Don't you dare say that." The male trying to keep him together spoke with such command, but the shadowsinger's pain persisted.
"I can't do this, Rhys. She-"
He couldn't stop crying, he couldn't stop hurting, he felt like he was screaming...
"Feyre," he heard Rhys call distantly. Everything was blurry, everything was awful. His head was pounding, his body was giving up on him, and then he felt delicate hands on his cheeks, a soothing feminine voice, and then nothing.
As darkness swallowed him whole, he saw only the glinting gold swimming inside his chest, reaching like a rope into darkness.
It was quiet for a bit. Safe, surrounded by nothing but shadows so much like his own, and the small golden light flickering inside of him. He would be content to stay there forever. To no longer live as the monster he’d become, to be able to pretend he was nothing, no one, just a fluid existence stretched through space. Like the embodiment of flying through the skies of Velaris, wings splayed wide and air crisp and free all around.
Unfortunately though, Azriel’s peace was short lived. Before he could truly bask in the quiet, he was being pulled out of his mind and back into the present.
Bright light hit his face, shining through the window of his bedroom at the House of Wind. His shadows immediately swarmed the opening, pulling at the curtains until he was once again draped in darkness.
He sighed and sat up, running his hands down his face. He felt overly fatigued, his entire body weighed down with guilt, self-hatred, and the words you had spoken to him.
He did let everyone he knew down. He already knew that, reminded himself of that every single day, but that didn't make it hurt any less coming from your lips.
Rhys, one of the many people he had failed, had not stopped staring at him. Azriel knew his brother was waiting for him to break the silence.
His voice sounded broken to his own ears, weak and cracking even when spoken in a low volume. “I don’t know what to say.”
He truly didn’t. What should he have said? Hey Rhys, thanks for tucking me in after I had a complete breakdown, you can leave now.
“You can start by explaining why you came to my office and begged me to kill you.”
Yeah, Rhys was not happy.
Azriel sighed, feeling his chest pinch at the memories. He wasn't happy either.
You’re no hero. You’re a joke.
Your hands are the ones hurting me.
That’s all you're good for: inflicting damage.
“Azriel.” Rhys interrupted his thoughts.
He swallowed, feeling himself tear up again. He hadn’t cried this much since Rhys went under the mountain.
“She’s my mate,” he finally spoke, voice quiet and chest cracking open at the confession.
Rhys didn’t even blink. Azriel couldn’t meet his gaze though.
“Who?”
Rhys knew who. Based on Azriel’s reaction to the information alone, he knew.
Azriel didn’t answer the question, knowing it was unnecessary. Instead, he gazed at his scarred hands resting in his lap and said, “I went to train, and she was already in there. The bond snapped before she even turned around.”
“Does she know?”
He shook his head, focusing on the sting in his arm. “She wouldn’t have missed if she did.”
He felt Rhys eyeing the slash against his bicep, already weaving itself back together. Then his friend studied the rest of Azriel's body language. The way his shoulders were curved in on himself, the way his fingers traced over the scars on his hands, the ghostly look in the male's hazel eyes despite them glistening with tears.
"What did she say?" Rhys ended up asking after his silent observations.
"Enough."
His brother didn't let Azriel brush him off though. "Whatever she said, she didn't mean it, Az."
Azriel scoffed. "Look into my mind, see how she looked at me, and then you try to tell me she didn't mean it."
"She is angry and grieving, and you are the only person available that she can blame and take it out on. Her anger," Rhys suddenly grabbed Azriel's arm, positioning it so he could nod to the reddened gash, "that anger, is because she cares. She's hurt because she loves you."
Azriel shook his arm out of his friend's grip. "It doesn't matter. I fucked up, and I can't take that back. The damage has been done, Rhys."
"I used to think that too." Violet eyes met his. "Feyre hated me, in case you forgot."
Azriel didn't budge, so Rhys continued. "I know what you're feeling right now. That it'd be alright if she hated you, as long as she's safe. But it still hurts, knowing she thinks poorly of you, and that feeling builds up. But your journey with her is not over. She is a forgiving person, you just need to give her grace while she heals. And you need to give yourself grace, because you're in a painful position too."
He nodded, letting a few tears fall. His palm automatically reached for his chest, rubbing it in an effort to soothe the ache there.
“How did you do it? How did you live with it hurting this bad? After Feyre said…”
Rhys sighed, letting out a small breathy laugh — a genuine one. “It wasn’t easy. I left for those days before Starfall, ignored her letters, sorted out my thoughts. Came to the conclusion that even if Feyre never loved me, I would always love her and I’d be happy to do so. And I have a family who I love dearly, who also loves me.”
The pointed look he gave Azriel was obvious, reminding him that his family was there and worried about him too. They had seen the way he’d turned into a shell of himself, barely sleeping in case you had a nightmare and needed him, barely eating or training, his entire reserve of energy being put into monitoring your safety and wellbeing. And he knew they cared, he really did.
Cassian had been trying to get Azriel back into the swing of training again, wanting him to express some of his heavy emotions in the ring, or at least talk to his brother while sparring and practicing. Instead, Azriel was seclusive and pulled the punches he threw the Illyrian’s way.
Rhys had given Azriel time off from his missions, delegating the work to those under the spymaster to take some weight off of Azriel’s shoulders for a bit. Azriel had at first refused but had given in when Rhys had pointed out that time and attention needed to be focused at home anyway, what with the Illyrians’ growing mistrust of Cassian, Azriel, and himself, the threat of an uprising ever present.
But now with what you had said…
“I think it’d be best if I went away for a bit.” His voice was quiet, resigned, lifeless to his own ears.
“By yourself?” Rhys asked, clearly not liking the idea.
He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Just — I think some space from her would be good. You even said you needed that when Feyre had hurt you.”
His brother’s violet eyes softened with understanding. “You’re right. I did. But I do think this is a bit more complex. What if you went with Amren or Mor to see Jurian and Lucien? See what they have been up to for a bit? You can leave some of the work to them, but have something to distract you should you need it.”
Azriel was quiet as he considered, but Rhys cut in before he could agree too soon. “But you come back. And you come back within the month.”
Azriel nodded. “Okay,” he relented.
“Okay,” Rhys repeated. His hand clasped Azriel’s shoulder in support, giving his brother a meaningful look. “I know I sound like an asshole, but it will work out. I know it. You two are too special, in general and to each other for this not to work out.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to shut out the pain that came with his brother’s words.
He swallowed, composing himself before meeting his friend’s gaze with teary eyes of his own. “Tell Mor I’ll meet her on the border in an hour.”
-------------------------------------
You skipped training the next night, too emotionally drained to make it out of your room. Cassian hadn't come to find you, either. Maybe he had even heard of your argument with Azriel.
Instead of going to the training ring, you tried to read your books (pushing away the reminder that Azriel had gotten them for you), took some long baths, tried to write, and listened to music.
Nothing kept your mind distracted from what you had said to Azriel, though.
The instant relief that had coursed through your veins when the anger had seeped into the air, draining from where it had hardened in your chest and allowing you to feel lighter, changed over the course of the day into something just as volatile.
You felt guilty. So, insanely guilty.
You kept remembering the look on his face when you had mentioned Mor, Rhys, Gwyn, his mother…
The way his hands clenched and fiddled with themselves when you had told him you see them hurting you in your dreams.
The tears that streaked down his cheeks silently as you just kept on coming and coming, attacking and attacking.
And he had let you. He had stood there possibly from shock, guilt, care, and just let you tear into him without any retaliation.
You had never uttered words so cruel to someone.
And you hadn’t even meant them.
Sure, you had been so angry at him. You had felt so hurt and demeaned, that you wanted to do the same to him. But did you actually blame him for what had happened to his friends? Did he hold the responsibility for the entire world in his scarred hands?
Of course not. But you knew that he thought so. And you had used that against him.
Azriel had never meant for you to get hurt. You, on the other hand, had intentionally hurt him.
Did that not make you so much worse?
You cried yourself to sleep that next night, your actions sending you into a downward spiral of shame. Despite taking the tonic Madja had provided you for sleeping, you found yourself at the mercy of your guilt, your mind tormenting you with Azriel’s hurt and your own mistakes.
If you had known this dream would have taken a turn for the worse, creating a scenario that would haunt you even more than the memories of that night, you never would have closed your eyes.
It had started the same as the others: the snow, the alleyway, the blonde-haired male licking up your neck and reaching for your middle. This time though, when you brought the dagger down into the male’s neck, a familiar choking sound echoed into your ear.
Azriel.
The same noise that had escaped his lips after your weaponized words stabbed into him.
Then his hazel eyes met yours, the snow falling from Velaris’ night sky dusting his black hair. And there was so much pain, hurt, and betrayal in his gold and green irises that you felt sick.
“No-” you panicked, reaching out for him as the bright red blood poured down his neck and over your hands.
No, no, no. Not him. How could you have done this? You were hurting him, you were killing him.
Your hands moved quickly, pushing against the wound as sobs loudly slipped past your lips. "Azriel-" you started to say.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. His eyes tried to get your attention, but he was already weak, slipping through your hands and falling onto the pavement below.
When the dagger fell from his neck, you saw the charcoal-colored aggressive waves adorning the top of the hilt and nearly collapsed.
You had killed Azriel with his own weapon. The weapon he had lent to help you, you had taken and stabbed him in return. His support, his offer to make amends, his kind-hearted generosity toward you, turned around to tear into his lifeline.
You killed him.
And hurting him did not feel as good as you had imagined in that training ring, both then and now, snow falling onto his tan skin in the alleyway.
As you stared into his empty eyes, somehow still sparkling with the stars of Velaris, you couldn’t help but scream.
Waking from the nightmare was nearly as difficult as wading through it in your sleep. Your ears were ringing, throat sore, and mouth dry. You were so nauseous, your stomach gurgled as if it was warning you its contents could come up at any time.
You didn’t go to the library to read or run yourself another bath in an attempt to relax. Instead, you found yourself throwing the blankets off of yourself, still trying to catch your breath, and making your way hastily to Azriel’s door.
It seemed so similar to that first week after the assault, when you had sought out Cassian before relying on Azriel for a night. Only this time, as you stumbled through the hall, your only thought was on passing Cassian’s door and finding yourself in front of Azriel’s.
You felt so scared, so anxious, and for the first time in months it wasn’t for your own safety.
Your heart pounded in your chest as your toes padded down the cold floor. But it completely stopped when you noticed the difference in the House of Wind.
Azriel’s door, always left cracked with the light on since your first nightmare after the incident, was now closed, with nothing but black on the other side.
You nearly caved into yourself.
Who could blame him? You had been a terrible person. And despite what he had done to you, it was understandable if he never wanted to see or talk to you again.
Just the thought of him being in pain because of you behind that door…
You hesitantly stepped closer, bringing your fist up to the wood.
“I’m sorry,” he had whispered in your dream.
You knocked softly, waiting a few moments before calling out his name. When no response came, you couldn’t help the anxiety that coursed through you, bringing scared tears to your eyes.
Shaking on your toes a bit, you knocked again. Blood flashed across your mind, his lifeless eyes, his look of betrayal.
"Please," you whispered, calling out to him gently.
But you couldn't wait any longer. Your hands slowly twisted the doorknob, your mind not even thinking of the consequences of entering a spymaster's room unsolicited.
You would just see that he was alright and safe, and then you would go back to your room. Plus, his shadows would let him know you were entering, they would warn him of your presence and could push you out if need be.
At this thought, you suddenly noticed the lone shadow that had trailed you for months was no longer at your side. The darkness behind his door swallowed you whole at the realization. He was gone, done, and you along with him.
You spiraled further, pushing into the room and daring to look around.
It was empty. Darkness shaded the clean room, but there was no shadowsinger, no living presence occupying the space.
Was he on a mission? Did he leave without telling anyone?
His choking noise permeated through your mind again, and you found yourself becoming dizzy with panic and anxiety, the guilt and regret spreading so far into your gut you were sure it was physically damaging you.
Stumbling over to his bed, you collapsed onto it, first sitting before bringing your knees up to your chest and allowing yourself to seek out his warmth and scent in the duvet and sheets. He was okay, you told yourself. He was always okay.
But the lack of your shadow friend spoke volumes. He was done with you. Done trying to prove himself, done trying to be your friend. And it hurt just as bad now when he actively decided to leave you compared to when he did it unintentionally.
Because despite it all, you did love him. You had just become so hurt and destructive that you ruined yourself further in the process, striking out at him as collateral.
You buried yourself deeper into his covers, not even caring when your tears soaked into his pillow. And maybe you imagined the footsteps you heard outside Azriel’s door, the way Cassian’s door had opened and closed and a presence had hesitated outside of the shadowsinger’s room as if they were listening and contemplating.
You surely imagined Azriel coming home and allowing you to speak with him, and in these hopes you understood how he felt this whole time. The silence, the darkness, the guilt and self-hatred. And the never-ending fear that you had done something you could never repair. That you weren’t good enough or redeemable enough to repair.
The last image that crossed through your mind before your swollen eyes succumbed to sleep was Azriel’s face when he had seen you that first day in the kitchen with Rhys. His nervous and devastated but hopeful expression.
You hated yourself.
-------------------------------------
In the morning, Feyre paid you a visit.
She did not comment on you leaving Azriel’s room, but the look she gave you was observant.
The conversation had started out small with her asking how you were doing, checking in on your training progress, if you had been reading anything good lately, if you had tried the meal Cassian made last night for dinner.
Then it was silent, and she hesitated before steeling herself like the High Lady she was.
“Azriel left the other night. Whatever you had said to him, whatever had happened two nights ago, I’m not sure he deserved it.”
You didn’t want to ask about the state she had seen him in. You didn’t want to know how deep the damage you had dealt went, because if you pictured his hurt expression one more time, you thought you might actually shatter.
You stared down at your hands in disappointment and shame, gritting your teeth to stop yourself from crying. You weren’t the victim this time around; you didn’t deserve to cry. And your eyes hurt so bad from crying so much.
“I think you two should talk. Your relationship has become so destructive I’m not sure either of you will come out at the end. Talk.” She demanded, her voice firm.
You nodded in agreement, swallowing the lump in your throat down before asking what you had been wondering since last night. “Where did he go?”
“To the mortal lands with Mor. He needed some time.”
Of course. Of course he needed time, and you would give him that. But you needed him to know that you were at least sorry, because you had no idea when he would be ready to return.
“If I were to give you a letter for him, would you make sure he receives it?”
Feyre sighed, thinking about the consequences of the action, before finally softening and nodding. She understood the need to reach out after such an incident, and you noticed her eyes flicker as she doubtlessly thought back to when Rhys left for a bit before Starfall and ignored her own letters.
“Sure. But you must be kind.”
You nodded again, that pang of disappointment and shame flaring to life again in your chest, and you thought of all the things you needed and wanted to say to Azriel.
But when you actually went to put pen to paper later that night, you found yourself second-guessing everything.
You had gone too far in punishing him — for something he was not even completely to blame for — and he probably didn’t want to hear from you. You should let him breathe, give him time to think and unwind without your existence constantly ruining him.
But then you thought of him standing in the training ring, hurt, crying, alone, and your hands were moving.
Azriel, you started the letter. I know you probably don’t want to hear from me, but I think I would regret not sending this to you, not telling you everything you deserve to hear. And I don’t want to regret anything else.
First, I need to apologize. Profusely. You don’t need to forgive me or give me another second of your time, but I am begging you to know and understand that I did not mean a word I said the other night. I could name a thousand reasons why the words went past my lips, but they will never unspeak them. I will forever regret that night, more than any other night in my life.
Please know that even in the times when I am carried away by anger, when I am less than human, less than any of you deserve, I have always admired you. Sometimes I think that made the anger worse, twining together with the care I have for you until it became some kind of warped emotional weapon.
I do think you are a hero. And redeemable and brave and a savior. And I’m sorry for ever trying to put in your mind that you are anything but. You have saved me more times than I could mention in the size of this letter, just in the time I have known you. Please know that.
I have no right to ask, not after everything we have gone through the last few months, but when you are ready, I would really like to sit down and speak with you. About everything.
Maybe we can find a way forward. Or at least a way to exist together without any pain.
You don’t need to respond. I will be here, and I can wait as you’ve waited for me to be ready to talk.
Be safe. If not for me then for yourself and your family.
Then you stopped. Because how were you supposed to sign this off? You pictured his frown at reading the letter, at your words he no longer trusted or felt warmth from. You hated that frown, the sadness you had seen from him so much as of late.
In the meantime, you wrote, I will read the books you left me, continue to purchase those tart pastries from near the Rainbow, and find comfort in your bedroom light remaining on, if not just to remind me of your kindness.
I appreciate your help, even when you are not near. And then you signed your name.
You would wait for his response (or lack of) and for his return. And then you would have the chance to talk. You would be able to hear his own thoughts, emotions, apologies, and curses before letting out your own.
Strength was what you needed until then. The strength to self-reflect on the blame you had placed on him, the words you had thrown around so carelessly. Strength that would get you through the oncoming storm, the marching warriors coming for Cassian, Azriel, and Rhys. The Illyrians wishing to overthrow the high lord and his enforcers, coming to take them down in any way they could.
Their marching was coming, the stomps matching the pounding in your chest.
You’d be strong, and you would wait for him to return. You would hold your ground, dagger at your side and heart hesitantly ready to be displayed.
And maybe, if all went in your favor, you two could finally have that talk.
1K notes · View notes
birdiewriteslit · 4 months
Note
omg omg i would LOVVVEEE if like [reader] and luke were dating behind percy’s back cuz of how sassy he would be n stuff but after like a date or kiss from luke the reader would gush about it to either annabeth, grover, or clarisse and one of them tells percy by accident during a convo and then percy like goes up to reader and confronts the reader about it and like scolds the reader and give them a whole lecture about how luke isn’t the right guy then luke overhears and like joins in <333
i love this idea!!
luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader
warnings: persassy (once again), fluff, mention of kissing, ignorance of the plot of the show for the sake of my happiness
nobody: me gaslighting myself into thinking i could fix luke:
You and your boyfriend had an agreement. Your relationship was private. It wasn’t necessarily a secret, but it was private.
This was a conclusion you came to before Percy arrived at camp, before you knew you had a brother. At first, you didn’t care much if he figured it out.
That was until you realized what a sassafras he was.
Percy was always sassing you about chores, about activities, and especially about camp boys.
You thought it was cute in the beginning, your little brother being protective over you, but then it became a real nuisance.
“Y/n, stay away from the Ares boys, I don’t like them.”
“Y/n, don’t date an Apollo guy, he’d write you some crappy poetry.”
“Y/n, for the love of gods, stay away from the Dionysus twins, I never want to have Mr. D as a relative.”
These were the types of things you would hear throughout the day as Percy got to know the other campers better.
You thought it better if you kept a low profile when you were around Luke, at least until Percy calmed down a little.
Most of the older campers knew about your relationship, but they were used to it and rarely talked about it.
“Having marriage problems?” Annabeth asked you one day during arts and crafts, where you were both about to give up on your ugly collaborative birdhouse.
“What? I’m not married,” you said, trying to fix a particularly garish looking bird.
She set her paintbrush down, officially proving she was over it. “Obviously. I mean Luke. I noticed you haven’t been around each other as much.”
You could tell she was a little worried. She wouldn’t be asking if she wasn’t. Annabeth had known you and Luke longer than any other campers, and she looked up to both of you. Plus, she always wanted to know about your experience with romance.
“It’s not what you think, Annabeth. We’re really fine,” you said. “In fact, just last night, he took me out on the dock.”
Your nightly meetups with Luke had always been a thing, but had become more frequent as of late.
“And?” Annabeth prompted.
“And, we hung out.” You were now furiously painting over the entire bird you failed to fix.
“You mean you made out,” she said, giving you a knowing look.
“Well, yeah, but I didn’t think you were interested in that part,” you said. “Now pick up that paintbrush, missy. I’m not doing this whole thing myself.”
Annabeth reluctantly dipped the brush in some blue paint, looking like she wanted more details about your date.
Private means private, you thought dismissively.
At campfire, you discovered that private didn’t mean private. You were sitting alone when Percy plopped down next to you. You frowned because you were saving that spot for Luke.
“Annabeth has just told me something very interesting,” he said, glaring at the spot where Luke stood, talking to one of his brothers.
“What would that be, Perce?” you said absentmindedly.
“Apparently Luke was macking on you last night.” He made a sound to imitate vomiting.
You grimaced. “Please never say that word again.”
“So? Is it true or not true?”
You sighed. No point in denying it now. “It’s true.”
Percy somehow managed to look even more disgusted. “Ew, why him?”
You rolled your eyes. “Oh, gee, I don’t know, maybe because I’ve known him for years, he’s kind, strong, and handsome. Wouldn’t you think that had something to do with it?”
“Oh, gods, forget I even asked,” Percy said, retching. “I just think you could do better. Look at all of these lovely candidates. Apollo guys are poets.”
“I thought that was too cringe for you.”
He ignored you and went on, “A Hephaestus guy could forge you some nice jewelry, and Athena guys are smart. You deserve a smart guy. Not Luke, no, he doesn’t have any good qualities like that.”
You noticed a figure approaching you over Percy’s shoulder, and you tried your best to hide the amused smile threatening to break across your face as Luke came to a stop behind him, waiting for the right moment to interrupt.
“All in all, Y/n, I think Luke’s a pretty bad guy for you. You should really reconsider.”
“Oh, I’m a bad guy, am I?” Luke finally spoke up, smirking as Percy slowly turned around to see him peering down at him.
“Not like a bad guy- just, you know, not right for my sister,” Percy said, his confidence leaving him.
“What makes me not right for her?” Luke asked, clearly loving the reaction he was getting.
“I- uh- you know,” Percy stammered.
“Oh, knock it off, Luke. Leave the poor kid alone,” you said, failing to hide your laughter.
“That sound is music to my ears,” Luke said seriously. Jeez, he was really laying it on thick.
Percy’s face returned to the look of disgust. “I’ll be leaving now,” he excused himself, hurrying off to where Grover and Annabeth were sitting on the other side of the fire. You could still see him glaring at Luke as he sat down next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.
You leaned into him, relishing in the combined warmth of the fire and his body heat. “What do you think? Am I getting sassed out tomorrow?” Luke asked, looking down at you.
“No, he looked pretty grossed out. I’m hoping he just avoids the topic altogether,” you said, trailing your fingers over the fabric of his shirt.
“We both know that’s not going to happen,” he concluded, smiling as he pressed a soft kiss to your temple.
1K notes · View notes
moonstruckme · 6 months
Note
Could I request poly marauders x reader who was always judged at home on what she ate when she was little, and now subconsciously hides her food from the marauders (like she doesn’t even realize she’s doing it) I completely understand if you’re not comfortable doing this req!
Thanks honey!
cw: reader experiences shame around eating "bad" foods
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
“You know what I could use right now?” Sirius asks about halfway through the film, right on schedule. “A little treat.” 
You smile, and James hops up gamely. “I’ll see what we have,” he says. Remus chuckles as you and Sirius both turn around on the couch, watching eagerly as James goes into the kitchen. “Ice cream?” he asks, as if he doesn’t know already. 
“Obviously,” Sirius confirms. 
James opens the freezer. “Alright, we have rocky road…half a pint of mint chip…rum raisin—Remus, you’re an old man.” Remus shrugs with a little smile. You think that he’s probably just glad no one else wants anything to do with his flavor of choice. “Also plain vanilla, and…” James pauses, moving things aside and reaching into the back of the freezer. “...chocolate cherry. This yours, angel?”
You’d forgotten you’d bought that. “Yeah,” you tell him, “but it’s open to everyone, of course.” 
James sends you an odd look. “Why’d you have it back behind the frozen peas?”
“I didn’t know it was back there,” you say with a shrug. “I just put things there automatically, I guess.” 
There’s a crinkling sound as James moves more bags of frozen vegetables aside. “There’s also a box of thin mints and an ice cream sandwich.” 
“Ooh, can I have that?” Sirius asks, giving you a pleading look. 
You smile at him. “Course you can. And Jamie, would you bring me the chocolate cherry, please?” 
James still has a funny look on his face as he shuts the freezer, bringing you and Sirius your frozen treats. You turn around once he hands it to you, finding Remus watching you with a similar expression. 
“What?” you ask, popping the lid off your ice cream. James squishes between you and Sirius, the four of you barely fitting on the couch. 
Remus looks like he’s turning something over in his head. “Why was all that back behind the frozen vegetables, love?” 
You shrug, happily sucking ice cream off your spoon. “I dunno. I just put it there, I guess.” 
“It just…” Remus shrugs, and he’s wearing that tiny smile he does when he’s trying to make light of something he doesn’t consider light at all. You tilt your head bemusedly. “It makes it seem like you were trying to hide them or something.” 
“She’s always hiding food,” Sirius says airily, munching on his dessert. “Like the oreos behind the soup cans.” You all look at him, and he stops chewing. “Was that not something we all knew?”
“I don’t…I didn’t think I was hiding anything.” You cross your arms, feeling defensive without really knowing why. There’s a whole number of things you don’t know about yourself, apparently. 
“It’s alright, darling,” Remus says soothingly, placing a hand on your thigh, “just so long as you don’t think you have to hide anything from us.” 
“I don’t,” you say, but you’re looking at your lap and your face feels hot. You don’t, right? Why would you? 
“Sorry for calling you out like that, babe,” Sirius says through a mouthful. “I figured it was intentional, and you just didn’t want us to eat your food. Nobody here cares what you eat, y’know.” 
“I know,” you promise him. “I guess…I just get a little embarrassed sometimes. Like, if I pig out, I don’t want everyone to know because suddenly a whole box of oreos is gone or whatever.” 
“First of all, as if we would even notice,” James scoffs, giving you a friendly shake by the shoulder. “And second, it’s like Sirius said—we don’t care what you eat, sweetheart. Or how much of it. If you want to eat a box of oreos, that’s your business. That’s not even that many oreos.” He shakes his head like you’re silly. “No one’s going to judge you for it.”  
It’s not surprising to hear him say that, and yet you can’t make yourself believe it’s true. Your boyfriends may not say anything about your eating habits—to your face or even to each other—but there’s no way that if they knew every detail, they wouldn’t think it was shameful. 
“Also,” Remus says, arching an eyebrow, “I don’t love the phrase ‘pig out.’ There’s nothing wrong with having a treat—”
“Duh,” Sirius cuts in, toasting with his half-eaten ice cream sandwich. 
“—and you shouldn’t feel like you have to hide things like that from us,” Remus finishes with a nod to appease Sirius. “If you don’t mind me asking, did you put your food in hiding places before you moved in with us?” 
You gnaw on your lip as you think back to pints of ice cream stowed in the ice cube dispenser when you lived at home, eating before your parents got back from work and quickly putting it away again when you heard cars approaching. Back then, you’d hidden dishes in your room too, evidence of food you knew wouldn’t be approved of crusted onto plates and bowls you were keeping stashed there until you could wash them without anyone noticing. 
“I guess so,” you say, and you can feel Remus’ eyes on yours but can’t bring yourself to meet them. You don’t know whether your shame is for your love of junk food or the odd habit of secrecy you’ve fallen into because of it. It might be both. “I used to do it when I lived at home, but I didn’t realize I was doing it here.” 
“That’s alright, sweetheart,” James says hastily, panicking in the face of your solemn change in mood. “So long as you know we don’t care, it’s not like you hiding it is hurting anyone.” 
“It’s hurting me,” Sirius protests. “We had ice cream sandwiches, and I had no idea!” 
You laugh, and James visibly relaxes. “Alright, I’ll try to stop putting things way in the back so that you can find them. I’m not trying to hoard, I swear.” 
“Keeping all the good stuff for yourself.” Sirius shakes his head at you. “That sweet face hides some pretty selfish tendencies, huh?” 
“Actually, could I grab a few of your oreos?” Remus asks before you and Sirius can really get into it. “That sounds pretty good right now.” 
“Yes!” you say. “Yes, please, have as many as you want. Sorry I kept them to myself, it wasn’t on purpose.” 
James takes your jaw in a big hand, pressing a slobbery smooch to your cheek. “You’re forgiven, sweetpea.” He raises his eyebrows. “If I can have some of those thin mints.”
2K notes · View notes
luvwestwood · 4 months
Text
"Working Overtime" - Toji Fushiguro
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
4,469 words.
warnings. nsfw (18+), toji is your boss, escort reader, thigh riding, p in v, spitting, toji rails you on a balcony, exhibitionism?, toji fucks you on a pile of money, mention of size difference, hair pulling, eye contact, oral sex (f receiving), creampie, praising, light aftercare
notes. corporate girlie by day, escorting by night. out of all people, who knew your own boss had to be tonights client? (ok but wealthy toji is such a refreshing experience from broke homeless smelly ass toji.)
art used is by @/yunonoai
Tumblr media
Being able to say you work under Mr. Fushiguro meant that you were gifted of some kind. Just having the privilege to do so puts you on top of others in society.
Toji Fushiguro himself possessed a different category of wealth. Any high-rise building you walk into in the whole of New York, you could be 99.9% sure that he owns it.
Five star hotels, bars of any kind, and award-winning Michelin restaurants. Oh, you name it. This was his world and we were just living in it.
On the other hand, the Fushiguro company's pay was decent. Working conditions were way above standard. It was a luxury to work in his office, but knowing you, it just wasn't enough.
You needed more than that. Which is why you took up escorting, suggested by your best-friend one night while the two of you were intoxicated by liquor. She told you that you had the looks, the bod, and a personality anyone would die for. And lastly, you were captivating - you could have anything your way.
At first you took it as a joke. Thinking she was just being a lick ass. But surprisingly you had tried it out not long after the idea was proposed, and you ended up making almost double your annual net salary in just four months. This night job was a secret that only you and your best-friend knows about.
Of course, you worked on the weekends. Choosing to work Monday to Thursday would’ve been self sabotage.
You had more than enough money to buy whatever you want, send your mom on holiday, and you were always on top of rent. Your corporate job was just something to get through the day with rather than rotting at home.
Tumblr media
During shifts, you and the other escorts would hang around in the night club changing rooms. Most of the girls were also strippers in the same club, but that wasn’t really your thing. So you just stayed with escorting. Your manager would just assign each of you clients, unless someone has personally booked you in.
Speaking of which, a voice came from the door frame. “Star, you have a client tonight. 9PM.” Star wasn’t your real name, it was just a fake one that you used while you escorted. It was safer, and most of the other girls did the same.
You look at Geto, your boss, in the reflection of the vanity mirror. Busy polishing up your eyeliner, you try your best not to poke yourself in the eye. “Name? And did he obey my no-home rule?”
As an escort, you did have some rules for your own service. You figured you’ve been doing this for quite a reasonable amount of time, so you made a personal rule where you’d refuse to go to a clients house. For safety reasons.
“Goes by the name.. uh… Eznin? And he did indeed. Seems like he booked in for the Ritz Carlton on 25 West. Think he’s a first time client too.” He reads the details off his tablet.
Of course, it just had to be one of Fushiguros hotels. You literally couldn’t escape that man.
The other girls in the room purred, “Aren’t you lucky.. Seems like he has money, don’t ya think?” Meimei takes a puff of her cigarette, looking at you in the mirror aswell for a response. “Maybe check for an expensive watch? I’d take it if I were you.”
“Not funny, Meimei.” She was known for stealing from her clients, you never knew how she got away with it. It even got so bad to the point that she sp¡ked a client, taking his wallet afterwards.
Getting up from the chair, you made your way behind the dressing divider, shimmying your robe off to slide on a dark blue lingerie set. Over it, you wore a simple black dress. I mean, you could never go wrong with a little black dress.
Throwing on some matching strappy heels, you stuffed your purse with some condoms and lube. And a plan B, of course.
“Your rides sorted,” Geto stood back from the door frame. “I’ll text you any further details.”
“Copy,” after spritzing on some perfume, you made your way out of the club.
An all-black SUV was waiting for you outside the entrance. Your favourite driver, Todo was standing beside the car door, smiling as you approached him.
“Hi, Todo.” You smiled as he held the door open.
“You look wonderful miss.” Todo smiles back before closing the door, walking around to the drivers side.
The car drives on, and as you were securing a secret mic in your purse, (for safety reasons but the client never knows) Todo speaks.
“Ah- Miss, not sure if I should disclose this information but your client tonight is.. very wealthy.” His leather covered hands clutch onto the wheel. “I’d be more demanding if I were you, make the most of it.”
Breaking out into a laugh, you stop fiddling with your bag, to look at him in the rear view mirror. “..Is that so?”
“Yeah… thought I might let you know.” He grins, bringing the car to a stop. Todo quickly scurries out of the vehicle before you could, opening the door for you.
“Thanks for the ride, Todo.” You slipped a $20 bill in his hand. “I’ll text you when I’m finished.”
He nods, getting back into the car as you made your way inside of the hotel.
Checking your phone for updates, Geto sent you a text with all the details around five minutes ago.
Eznin Caln 30 years old, Net worth- $307,473,297 Floor number 43, he’ll let you in.
You walked over to the elevators, luckily one was already open. Taking a look at the buttons panel, you looked for a 43. Noticing it was the last highest button, you raised an eyebrow before pressing it.
Clutching onto the straps of your purse, the doors closed. You could only look at yourself in the metal reflection, taking a few deep breaths. Of course, you made sure to send a text back to Geto to let him know you were at the hotel.
Although you were decently experienced in this job, you’d still get nervous each time you were about to meet your clients.
Setting down the fly aways in your hair, the elevator came to a halt.
*Ding!*
The metal doors opened before your eyes. Hesitant, you walked inside, the bottom of your heels tapping against the wooden floors.
“..Hello?” You peeked inside the other rooms in the penthouse, one being a mini office that seemed like someone was just there, the other being a bedroom with big windows and a balcony, overlooking the city.
A deep voice spoke behind you. “Can I help you?”
You gasp, clutching onto your chest as you turned around. “I’m so sorr- Mr. Fushiguro?!”
Your eyes widened, and his mouth wide open. He was only in a towel wrapped around his waist, his dark hair wet from a fresh shower. You couldn’t help but ogle the drops of water that decorated his muscular body.
“…Are you.. the escort?”
Unable to form words, you swallowed your spit before speaking. “I.. I am.” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, looking down at the ground.
“Alright, make yourself comfortable.” He eyed you up and down, a mini towel in his hand to dry his hair. “Sorry you have to see me like this, excuse me while I put some clothes on.”
Is he not going to question anything?..
Your breath hitched, God, did he know I was eyeing him? “Okay..”
He turned around to go back to the bathroom, but looked over his shoulder as he was doing so. “Just call me Toji, we’re outside of work.”
You watched as Toji continued to walk away, “Well.. I’m basically working, aren’t I.” you muttered under your breath, making sure he doesn’t hear.
Looking around, you remembered that he owned this hotel. I should’ve known when I was going to the 43rd floor, he doesn’t let anyone in here.
You walked over to his bedroom, it was bigger than your own apartment. The sheets were neatly made, and a bottle of Malbec sat on a table near the window.
Placing your purse on small sofa, you removed your jacket, neatly folding it over the arm rest aswell.
You made your way to his closet, in search for a white robe. There was a robe on the hanger beside his freshly dry cleaned suits. You took it out, tracing your fingers over “The Ritz-Carlton” that was embroidered onto the front in cursive.
Sliding your dress off, you covered yourself in the robe, only the dark blue lingerie set underneath. Afterwards you tied a knot around your waist with the belt. Kicking off your heels, you placed them inside the closet, along with your dress that was neatly folded.
Although you were an escort, you made sure to clean up after yourself. You hated leaving a mess around, so you respected your clients by making sure to leave the place clean.
You could hear Toji walk into the bedroom. Closing the doors of the closet, you turned to him, and he was already busy getting the wine bottle open with a corkscrew.
Taking a seat on the armchair in front of him, causing you to be at crotch level with Toji. You watched as his arms flex each time he handled the bottle.
You noticed Toji was in a more relaxed outfit. He wore a dark grey cotton longsleeve that sculpted over his muscles like paint, with bottoms in a matching colour and fabric.
“Toji,” you called out his name.
The pouring of the wine stopped, his fingers gently pushing the glass towards you. “Hmm?”
Taking the glass by the stem, you twisted it between your fingers. “Do you regularly hire escorts?”
Toji walked over to the edge of the bed, sitting down. He sighed, looking at the city view in front of him. “No,” taking a sip, he continued. “This is my first time, actually.”
You did the same, but taking a tinier sip. You didn’t want to be tipsy while carrying out your service. It was too dangerous. “..Oh.”
Looking back at Toji, he was busy staring at the red liquid swirling around in the glass. “I dont even really know how they work.”
As you were about to take another sip, you paused. Your eyes looked at him over the rim of the glass, before placing it back down on the table.
“You can just do whatever you want with me, really.” You crossed your legs, exposing the bare skin on your thigh to him.
"I see," he nods, slightly leaning back onto the bed, using his hands for support.
"So, you made up your mind yet?" you got up from the arm chair, making your way to Toji who was on the bed. "What you wanna do?" You stood yourself between his legs, as he tried his best to hold himself back from pulling on the knot that was holding your entire robe together.
Toji's hands rested on your hips on top the robe, dangerously close to your ass. He made sure to bring you closer to him, almost pressing your chest to his face at this point. "I don't know," His free hand tugged on the knot of the belt, slowly unraveling it until the robe slid off your body. "Maybe you, if that's an option."
He could feel his cock strain against his pants as he took in the sight of you in nothing but lingerie, it felt like he was opening a present on his birthday. Blue was his favorite color.
You choked on your words at his response, he sure did have a way with his words. "I don't usually allow that, but maybe I'll let it slide tonight."
Toji caressed your wet lip with his thumb, gradually sliding it inside of your mouth as you sucked on it gently. He stops and moves you to the side by the waist, getting up from the bed.
Confused, you stay standing in front of the bed, watching Toji as he grabs something from the drawer. He eventually makes his way back onto the bed, but this time, leaning his head back against the head-board.
Toji takes out his wallet, pulling a $20 bill out and placing it on the nightstand beside him. "..Crawl over to me."
Your lashes flutter as you watched him place the bill on the night stand, you could only obey what he asked you to do. 'I'm just doing my job.. this doesn't mean anything. He will forget about this.' You constantly chanted this in your thoughts, completely disregarding the fact that he was your boss.
You crawled onto the bed, and slowly to him. Toji's eyes watched you closely making sure to tell you, "Stop," as you were just about to crawl onto his lap.
He takes out another $20 bill from his wallet, this time, two. Toji gently raised his knee, just enough for it to rub against your warm cunt that was covered by the lace panties. "Ride my leg, until I tell you to stop."
Aroused, which you are not meant to be, you couldn't help but sink yourself down onto his leg. Part of you wanted this, but you did at good job at not showing it.
You slowly started to move your hips back and forth on his lower thigh, placing both of your hands down in front of you for support. Toji's hardened cock begging to come out as he watched you closely.
If you were to lift up his top, you’d be able to see his leaking top peeking out of his waistband. The straps of your bra slowly fell down off your shoulders. Toji could almost groan at this lewd sight in front of him.
"Good girl," He did his best to hold himself back from holding onto your hips, "Keep going."
A spot on the fabric of his pants turned into a darker grey than before, your slick making its way through your panties. Nothing can be done.
Breathy moans started to crawl out of your throat, Toji noticing as you started to grind on his leg harder and slightly faster. "Stop."
You whimpered quietly as Toji retracted his leg from underneath you, observing the newly made wet spot on his pants. "Look at this mess you made all over me.."
Speechless, and breathless, you fell back onto your heels in front of Toji, he took another bill out, but this time $50.
"..I want that bra off." He slaps the bill onto the growing pile on the nightstand, followed by another 50. But he doesn't take his eyes off you. "And the panties. They're kinda annoying me now."
Doing exactly as he said, Toji's hand rested on his crotch, aching to palm himself through his pants. You slowly, but teasingly unclasped your bra, Toji clearing his throat by the time your tits were finally on display to him.
Followed by your soaked underwear, which at this point was no use. They managed to fly across the bedroom, hanging off a small statue that was on top of a console table.
He just wanted to wrap his mouth around each of them, or even motorboat your titties.
Toji propped himself up in a less relaxed position. "Lie down on your back, legs spread."
Your last sight was him before you fell back on to the bed, your head nearly hanging off the edge. Toji noticed your nipples hardened as soon as your skin made contact with the cold satin sheets. You felt the weight of the bed shift around, as Toji grabbed both of your legs by the thighs, positioning his head between them.
Squirming about, Toji peppered kisses on your inner thighs, his large hand wrapped around one of them. Wasting no time, he went straight to sucking and softly biting on your folds, using his tongue to lap at your bud until it was swollen. Moaning into your pussy, he softly massaged the flesh of your thigh, the vibrations from his grunts adding more to your stimulation.
Busy sucking away, wet noises from his tongue and the slick of your dripping pussy echoing throughout the bedroom. His hand reached behind him, then slowly went back over his shoulder. It was a $100 bill, tucked between his index and middle finger.
You were too busy hanging your head off the edge of the bed in pleasure, grabbing the sheets beside you and wrinkling them as Toji devoured you like he hasn't eaten for weeks.
The paper bill fell onto your stomach, tickling you slightly. You could feel Toji spit onto your pussy, the saliva trickling down almost into your hole before he slurped it back up, sticking his fingers in there instead. You felt them slide into you with ease, Toji swirling his warm tongue around on your clit.
"O-oh God.. To..ji." You managed to choke out a moan, your manicured hands clawing at his hair and eventually messing it up.
Letting go of your thigh, he used his now free hand to fondle with your breasts eagerly, twisting your nipples between his fingertips before giving them a slap.
One last lick on your clit, Toji removed his head between your legs, this time his whole body kneeling between them. You sneakily push up against him, his bulge through his pants grazing against your bare cunt.
Using your strength to lift your head from the edge of the bed, you watched as he took off his shirt, letting it fall onto the floor. Its neckline was soaked from eating you out earlier, but we don't talk about that.
Panting, his hands frantically rummage through his wallet. You noticed it was still bulky, as if the previous cash he pulled out didn't make any difference to the amount he had now.
Toji pulled out $1000 all in 20 bills, your eyes widening, wondering if he was serious.
"Please.. let me fuck you." Toji also sat back on his heels, $1000 in his hands as you were underneath him, fully naked. He just wanted to indulge himself in you, and if he could, he'd make this night last forever.
You slowly nodded, honestly begging to having his cock inside of you too. Before you knew it, your vision was filled with the $1000 raining down onto your body, and by your sides on the bed. He quickly pulled his bottoms down to his knees, before realising they were too annoying. He proceeds to fully kick them off.
Toji glances around the room for a condom, before you stopped him. "..Is it okay if we don't use one? ..I want to feel every inch of you."
You read his mind. "Anything you want, gorgeous."
His large hands shuffled through the pile of cash that was over your body, making sure that he could still see your tits and your beautiful face.
One hand grabbed onto your waist, and the other was used to align the tip of his cock with your hole. As soon as he slightly pushed the tip in, both of his hands were on your waist now.
Toji carefully slid in, making sure you take every inch of him. He closes his eyes in pleasure as he feels your plush walls clench around him, Tojis grip on your waist intensifying.
And, god was he big. In both cock, and Toji in general, he could destroy you if he decided to use full stength tonight.
"Y-you're too.. big," Toji not even halfway, you cry out, only wrinkling the sheets more to the point they weren't tucked into the frame hotel-style anymore.
You could feel both of his thumbs caress the soft skin of your sides as he cooed, "I know baby, I know," Toji let out a grunt as he tried to move in and out of you.
The difference of size between you and Toji made you throb, at this point he could just use his hands to fuck you on his cock back and forth like a doll in his grasp.
Toji starts to pant as he picked up the pace of his ruts, your tits bouncing, only adding to the pornographic sight in front of him.
Covering your face with your hands, you moan into them, the feeling of being full with Tojis cock was driving you mad. You could feel one hand let go of your waist, bringing it to your wrist to pull it away from covering your face.
The rustling of the cash beneath you and the sound of skin slapping echoed out into the living room from the bedroom. "Look at me when I fuck you," Toji says sternly, causing you to whimper in agitation as you did your best to keep your eyes on his.
"To..Toji.." You moan out, choking on your words as your hand grabbed onto his that was wrapped around on your waist.
"Come on doll, say my name." Turning feral, Toji pounds into you like a fleshlight. Voice shaking as you try to moan out his name, and by tomorrow you wouldn't be surprised if you lost your voice.
He comes to a halt, completely. Toji slides his cock out of you, a creamy white ring formed at the base. You whine before he hushes you. "Y'know what," He picks you up, cradling you in his arms.
You switch positions, instead you lock your legs around his waist, as the two of you made your way to the balcony door of the bedroom. Is he..
*click!*
Toji slid the glass door open, the two of you stepping out into the balcony. It wasn't cold, and you could see the still busy city carrying on with life underneath the hotel.
Suddenly, Toji peeled your legs off his waist, making you face the railing, and the city in front of you. You gasp as he roughly positioned your body, placing one leg up onto the rail, your two hands clutching onto the cold metal.
He slides into you again, but this time not allowing you to adjust. Toji immediately goes in with brutal force, your ass ripping against his pelvis as he drilled into you. On the balcony. For anyone to watch.
Toji spits again, his saliva falling onto your asshole and soon enough drips onto his cock that was continuously pounding in and out of you.
Your moans broke out into a giggle due to the ticklish feeling, Toji couldn’t help but smile at your reaction.
Both hands on your waist, Toji groans in pleasure and praises you non-stop for taking him like a good girl. His hand wrapped around your lower stomach as he felt you give in, your legs unable to support yourself. "You're doing so good for me," he whispers in to your ear, only to leave a trail of wet kisses down your back afterwards,
You moan continuously, for sure, everyone below could hear. Your hand made its way to Toji's nape, bringing him closer to you as he repeatedly fucked into your sweet spot.
"I’d do anything to be able to see a view like this one for the rest of my life," his left hand made its way down to your clit, lazily rubbing circles.
This just did it for you, lowly moaning, you let go of Tojis neck. Leaning forward, you rest your chin on the metal rail ontop of your same hands that were grabbing onto it. But a certain someone didn't let you do that.
Toji immediately grabbed you by your hair, pulling you back against his chest, taking your leg off the rail. You felt him interlock his hands around your inner elbow, suddenly fucking into you upwards as you grab onto his bicep for support.
"G-o-d Toji, please just f-u-ck your c-um into me." The enunciation of your words came out in bits, as Toji drilled up into you at a brutal pace.
He grinned against your necks skin, leaning further to plant kisses on your jaw."You want me to fill you with my cum, huh?"
You frantically nod, but that wasn't enough of an answer for a man like Toji.
"Oh baby, use your words." He purred into your ear, holding his orgasm to make sure you get it when you deserve it.
"I need it- I need it so ba-ad." You whimpered out, squeezing onto his bicep. "Please, Toji."
He whined, balls tightening as he heard you beg for him. You already drove him crazy, and that only drove him crazier. With one deep thrust, his movements come to a halt, allowing his warm, thick seed to fill you up completely.
Toji placed more kisses onto your back and your neck, making sure to never lose grip of you in case you go all jelly. Followed by him, slowly pulling his cock out of you, his load dripping out of your hole and onto the balcony flooring.
He stuck two of his fingers back into you, slowly fucking the load inside of you to make sure it stays inside. With his cum covered fingers, he slid the two of them past your lips and into your mouth. You sucked on them, humming as it covered your taste buds, and eventually swallowing.
Toji slapped your ass, and you yelped, giving him a glare. He chuckled before picking you back up bridal style, carrying you back inside the penthouse.
He gently and carefully placed you on the bed, quickly cleaning a bit of the mess you two made around the room.
"How about I go run us a nice bath, hmm?"
Fiddling with your thumbs, you watched as Toji neatly fold the pile of money together alongside the one on the night stand. Of course, it’s still yours. "That sounds good," You smiled as he walked over to give you a peck on the forehead.
Tumblr media
The dripping of water from the bath tap rang throughout the room, Toji leaning back against you as the two of you were in the tub. You squeezed a sponge over his abs, the hot water dripping down his skin as he closed his eyes.
"..Toji," you called out his name, and he hums back in response.
You gently rubbed the sponge up and down his arm, "Would you say this counts as me working overtime for you?"
He smiles, opening his eyes to look up at you. "I'll add another $500 bonus and a shopping spree if you ride me in this tub."
You scoff, letting go of the sponge as you sulk against the marble of the tub. "I'm literally stuffed with your cum. I think you had enough, thank you very much."
Toji only laughs, "Aren't you forgetting you got an asshole and that throat of yours? We can easily squeeze in three more rounds."
Tumblr media
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24. all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts. 🎀🩷
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
pers1st · 2 months
Text
let down - leah williamson x reader
Tumblr media
pairing: barca!reader x leah williamson
warnings: barça being broke
In truth, you shouldn't be nervous.
This conversation had been going on for months - it was no secret that Barça had many financial problems, and paying you, Alexia and Aitana as their midfield would always have been difficult. You had had countless conversations like these before - negotiating your new contract, negotiating your new wage, which you knew would be significantly lower. It didn't bother you, though. You would've picked up a second job if it meant playing for your childhood club, even if they refused to pay you.
This setting, however, seemed a lot more official than it should've, in your opinion.
You were still dressed in your clothes from training, and so was Jona, but the rest of Barça's management was dressed properly - in suits and leather shoes. They shouldn't have even been there yet. This conversation was meant to simply verbalize your new contract, not to sign it yet. You were in no conditions to take the usual photos and sit in front of the camera for an interview after the contract extension. It confused you.
"Y/N, we are so sorry."
That was how Jona started, and in that particular moment, your heart stopped. No, this couldn't- they wouldn't dare-
"We can't renew your contract."
Silence followed. Then, your shaky voice. Barely above a whisper.
"What?"
This whole situation seemed too surreal to be true. Maybe in a few seconds, your eyes would open and you would find out that this was just a horrible dream. If it hadn't been for your manager's piercing gaze on you, you might've pinched yourself under the table.
"We don't have the financial means to pay you enough to stay. I know it's not what you want to hear, but-"
"No, Jona, we talked about this. You can cut my wage, I don't mind. I'll stay here, whatever it takes. Alexia said she would-"
But the man in front of you didn't let you finish.
"You are right, we talked about this. And I told you that you deserve more than what we can give you, and that you cannot let us undermine you. It's not fair to you, it's not fair to all the women who are-"
This time, you were the one to interrupt him.
"But this? This isn't fair to me!"
That was how the argument unfolded, and only after your voice was hoarse from crying and pleading, your cheeks stained with tears and your manager stained with guilt, did you leave the office to fall into Alexia's arms, who had been listening in from the other side of the door for God knew how long.
It was January currently, which meant that as soon as you silently agreed with them to sign you to whatever club payed the most, you were out.
Just like that, the chance to play in front of the Culers for one last time was ripped away from you. They received a half-hearted announcement via Instagram, you received twenty women in your apartment, ready to pack your things. In all honesty, you had wished for no one to see as you organized your life into moving boxes and shipped them over the sea for whoever from Arsenal to receive, mostly because it would've felt even less real. Mostly because then, the goodbye wouldn't have hit you as hard. Ona tried to offer you advice on how to get by in England, telling you all about her experience abroad. Mapi tried to lift the spirits by joking around. Ingrid held you as you allowed tears to fall, and Alexia made sure you didn't forget anything, offering to take care of the things you would leave behind in Barcelona.
It was only you and Alexia at the airport. Your best friend, since the day you had been selected to play for the senior team of Barcelona, had shared many angry words with the management, and at one point even threatened to leave if you really had to. But the papers were signed, and the boxes were packed, and there was nothing left to do for Alexia besides holding your shaky frame as tears clouded your vision for what felt like the millionth time.
"You'll be okay, bebita. You'll enjoy London, and then you'll come back. I promise, you'll come back."
The both of you knew that there was no way she could ever promise that - Barça's financial difficulties were far too severe to sign you back soon - the most expensive player in the world, currently. When, or if the smoke would clear up, neither of you could know. Still, her words soothed you the tiniest as you held onto the glimpse of hope your best friend gave you as if it was a lifeline.
"Enjoy London, okay?"
You nodded, although you knew that you wouldn't. What good was London compared to Barcelona? What good was the capital of England compared to your lifelong home?
"Vamos, carino", Alexia huffed as she let go of you, gently pushing you towards your gate.
"Call me, okay? ¡Te amo!", she yelled after you as you turned away from her, and the hurt in her voice made a new layer of tears stream down on your cheeks, but you knew that if you looked back at her now, you would never board that plane. If leaving to England was what it took for your club to keep functioning, you would. If playing for Arsenal meant that you would be back in blaugrana one day, you would wear that ugly red shirt and call yourself a Gunner. You wouldn't do it happily, though.
London looked ugly when you flew over it, and London looked ugly when you landed in Heathrow Airport. You had expected people from the club to be there to pick you up, wearing Arsenal clothes and a sign with your name on it. It was apparently standard procedure, as Alexia had told you, though neither of you could really know because neither of you had never left the country to play football if it wasn't with the Spanish national team. What you hadn't expected, however, was Laia waving at you excitedly from across the hall, with two women dressed in the same hoodie as her, one significantly smaller (you guessed she was Kim) and one Leah Williamson.
You had never followed English football much, likely why you hadn't recognized Kim when you'd first searched up your new team on the internet, but Leah was the kind of footballer everyone was just.. aware of.
Admittedly, she was even prettier in real life.
"¡Hola, guapa!", Laia shrieked as you strolled over to your new teammates (the word 'teammate' along with 'new' still left a bitter taste in your mouth), dragging your suitcase behind you tiredly. The plain ride had worn you out - in all honesty, the entire past week had worn you out. Ever since you'd been told that you would leave the club that you had bled for, you hadn't been able to close half an eye.
Still, Laia's excitement was unmatched as she pulled you into a tight hug, allowing your face to sag against her shoulder. You didn't allow yourself to cry anymore, and so you could see Leah and Kim smile at you softly from a few steps behind the other Spanish woman without tears clouding your vision.
Laia continued to speak in Spanish, asking you about the flight, about how the Barça girls were, about how excited she was that you were finally here and she wasn't the only Spaniard at the Arsenal.
If Kim and Leah thought it was rude that they were left out of the conversation entirely, they didn't say so. Still, you pushed Laia off gently, mustering the smallest of smiles you could.
"Hello."
Your English wasn't very good, but even you winced ever so slightly at the realization of how truly cold you sounded. You didn't want to be here, didn't want any of them to show you your new apartment, didn't want them to show you the club, to bring you to training, to give you a red jersey and call you a Gunner.
But you needed to suck it up. Life wasn't fair. And if Alexia's words held any truth, this would merely be a temporal situation.
"Hey", Kim smiled at you. Her English sounded funny, but her smile was more genuine than yours as she introduced herself and Leah. You hadn't needed her to, but it was a nice gesture anyways.
"It's good to have you here", Leah smiled as she gently lay her arm across your shoulder.
"Wanna see your new flat?", you nodded as Leah guided you out of the hall, your luggage left with Laia who strolled behind you alongside Kim.
Leah's confidence and her proximity to you, your side pressed against hers, was making your head spin ever so slightly. You had, admittedly, hoped that Leah, as co-captain and being about to return to the pitch, would understand how badly you didn't want to be at Arsenal, seeing as she bled for the club the way you did for Barcelona. Maybe she could grasp the idea of being forced out of her home, and sympathize with you in the slightest. And it seemed she did, as she pointed towards what you guessed was Kim's car, leaving you and Laia in the backseats as you drove through the city. London was different from Barcelona.
It was slightly less ugly now, with impressive buildings and a few bits of nature sprawled around as Kim maneuvered the car through the streets. It was cold, though, and as you were shivering slightly, Kim put the heat just a bit higher. It was grey, as well. Not a single ray of sunshine was able to break through the barrier of clouds in the sky, and it reminded you a lot of your current mood, though you were hesitant to show it.
Leah and Kim seemed genuine in their efforts to make this transition as easy for you as possible, given the fact that your apprehension to leave Barcelona was a very well known fact. You had dedicated an Instagram post with a very heartfelt caption to your departure, which made it very clear that you did not leave on your own accord.
Their dedication to welcome you, though, made you feel the tiniest bit of unfair. The women were genuinely trying, and they promised you during the car ride, when asking whether or not you were nervous, that the whole team was excited to meet you. Maybe you could try a little bit. Maybe you could enjoy this for the time being.
"Here we are."
You could see Kim's smile through the rearview mirror as she parked her car in front of an old building which you guessed was your new apartment complex. The car had left the central of London around twenty minutes ago, and at your confused expression, Laia had huffed that the club was in North London, not Central London.
"¿Es un poco feo, no?", (It's a bit ugly) you asked Laia as you stared at the shabby building. The walls were grey, and the parking lot was grey, and it seemed like everything in London was just.. grey. Plain.
"¡No, Y/N! Leah vida aquí también", (Leah lives here too) Laia huffed at your comment, shaking her head while chuckling at your statement. You shrugged, ignoring the way Leah and Kim furrowed their brows at your Spanish conversation while climbing out of your seat to retrieve your luggage.
You insisted on carrying your suitcase up the small flight of stairs as well, though Laia offered to do it for you. The two of you hadn't been super close when she'd still played at Barcelona, but you had been quite good friends, and having at least one familiar face soothed you.
"This is it", Leah smiled softly as the four of you stepped into the hallway, following your curious steps into the flat. It was plain as well, of course it was. For the first time since calming down on the plane, you had to fight tears again. The flat was nice, sure. The club had organized a quite spacious place, with lots of room and comfortable-looking furniture. But it was bare. You knew that shopping for furniture would be a hassle in the middle of the season, so you had rented it furnitured.
You missed your green couch, the thrifted, quite antique sideboard, the golden-framed mirror. You missed the framed shirts on your wall, the clothing rack with all of the shirts you had swapped with other players. All of those things were now packed away in a storage room somewhere in Barcelona. You missed Barcelona.
"Es pretty", you mumbled, dropping your keys on the white coffee table and turning around to look at Leah, who was still holding on to your large bag, the Barcelona badge imprinted on it. The look she gave you, eyebrows slightly raised, eyes looking somewhat defeated, told you that you hadn't been able to fool her.
Laia and Kim left quickly, with the excuse of having early training tomorrow and needing to run whatever errands, but Leah stayed.
"I live in the same building, so I could help you unpack if you want?"
In truth, you didn't want her to help. You didn't want her to swoop through your things, eyeing all of your personal belongings, all of the tokens of your previous home that you had left so promptly, but you didn't have the heart to tell her no. So, the two of you got to work, after a small tour through the whole unit, finding the bedroom, the bathroom and another room that you guessed you would use for storage. Your kitchen was small, after all, and it was filled with things you didn't know how to use.
"What's this?", you asked as you held up a scoop of some sort, that you had found while rummaging through your cupboards.
"It's a tea scoop, for making loose tea", Leah explained with a chuckle, taking the utensil from your hand to showcase how one scoops.
"I don't drink tea", you huffed, taking the scoop back and shoving it into the back of the cupboard before closing it a little harsher than you would have expected.
"You're in England now, you're gonna drink tea."
You decided to ignore her comment, instead opening the next drawer.
"I have a microwave", you pointed out, moving slightly to the side so that Leah could look. She was awfully close to you again, and it made you nervous.
"So you can make paellas", Leah snickered, nudging her hips against yours playfully. At that, you turned towards her, taking a shocked step back.
"Joder, you don't microwave paellas! What is wrong with you? Mujer loca", (crazy woman) you exclaimed, nudging her back playfully before diving into the next cupboard. Maybe London wouldn't be as horrible as you thought.
notes: this is baaaaad honestly but we move
821 notes · View notes
lovelyjj · 7 months
Note
i feel like jj would be so sweet in the morning, like lots of kisses and cuddles and stuff. if its okay can you maybe write something about it
Morning After
jj maybank x reader
wc: 778
Tumblr media
JJ's warm hand reached across you and found home on your stomach. He splayed his hand out and pushed against your skin. His bare hand heating your skin. He then peppered kisses along your spine. He nuzzled his nose into the back of your neck afterwards.
JJ cuddled into you from behind. You were slowly but surely regaining consciousness. You felt JJ's warmth from behind you and smiled. JJ began leaving kisses on your shoulder blade. Your exposed back was tempting JJ. You were both aware of the fact that both of you were naked.
It just meant you were enjoying skin to skin contact. JJ moved his kisses to the top of your shoulder. You felt all tingly all over from the sensation of his kisses. Your heart was beating faster in your chest with the proximity of the two of you and all the love you were feeling.
JJ then turned you on your back and hovered over you. JJ leaned down and attached his lips to yours in a searing kiss. JJ kissed you with passion and he slipped his tongue into your mouth.
After a long moment you pulled away and JJ let out a whine. JJ rested his forehead against yours and nudged his nose with you nose.
"Good morning angel," JJ cooed.
"Good morning J."
"Last night was... amazing. You were amazing," JJ smiled.
Then JJ proceeded to lay back down on his side and you turned back around laying on your side facing JJ.
Last night you and JJ had sex for the first time. It was everything you could ask for and more. It was truly special and spectacular. JJ spent the whole time worried about you and made sure you were ok. He worshiped your body and made love to you in a way that made you feel like you were the only girl in the world.
He catered to your needs and treated the experience like it was all about you.
"Thank you for last night it was perfect,"
you sighed.
"I love you baby," JJ voiced.
"I love you too JJ."
JJ smiled and his heart warmed at your confession. You were staring into JJ's pretty blue eyes. JJ leaned over and kissed your forehead.
"I wish we could just stay in this bed together forever," you commented.
"Me too sweetheart, I never want to let you go," JJ responded.
JJ then figured he would enjoy the time he does have with you while he can before he has to go to work.
"My angel, my baby, Love you so much." JJ expressed but in between words he placed kisses on your face. He kissed your cheek and then the other cheek. He kissed your nose and you chin. Then he went down to your jaw and littered kissed there.
You were laying on top of JJ with your hands under your chin looking up at JJ.
"Tell me a story," you pleaded.
"You want me to tell you a story?" JJ questioned.
"Yes please."
"Ok once upon a time there was a girl who was absolutely gorgeous. She was kind, considerate loving and caring. She was perfect and everyone knew it. She had one problem though, she had nobody to love. She desperately wanted a partner."
"One day when she was at the beach she saw a surfer emerging from the water. The surfer happened to walk right by her. They ended up talking for hours. They ended the night watching the sunset and exchanging phone numbers." JJ continued.
"Pretty quickly they became fast friends. Their relationship blossomed and they eventually started dating. They easily fell in love and became inseparable. Their love for each other was one like no other. Their love for eachother could move mountains. And they lived happily ever after."
You were drowsy and laying on JJ's chest.
"That was a good story, thank you," you hummed.
"No problem baby."
JJ snuggled closer to you and wrapped his arms around you encasing you in. He rubbed up your arms trying to give you warmth. He pressed kissed to your hair.
JJ wasn't a morning person but if he could spend every morning tangled in the sheets with you, he'd die a happy man. There was however, parts of the morning that he did love. He loved pressing kisses to your skin. He loved cuddling into you. He loved the physical touch that happened.
JJ loved you and he loved being with you. He loved mornings with you in it. After the night you had, you giving yourself to him for the first time he couldn't wait to have many more morning afters.
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
megu-meow · 7 months
Text
how I met your mother - Gojo Satoru
Tumblr media
dad!Gojo x fem.reader
Summary: I recently found out that many TV series and other Manga/Anime are canon in JJK - How I Met Your Mother included - and I couldn't stop thinking about how Gojo would re-enact the thing after watching it. Moreover, all of you deserve some teeth-rotting fluff after that horrifying manga chapter. Enjoy!
Tumblr media
"Why am I here?" Megumi asked with irritation laced through his voice as he sat down on the couch, beside the two white-haired rascals he calls his siblings.
"I'm gonna tell you guys the story of how I met your mother!" Gojo exclaims as he sits on his desk chair, in his office at Jujutsu Tech. The desk usually sits in the corner, right beside the window, but now is pushed in front of the couch, so that he can sit face to face with his children, the setup similar to the one in his recent favorite American TV show, How I Met Your Mother. The only difference is that the whole scenario is not played in his home office, but the one at his actual workplace, because you declared your home a Jujutsu-Free Zone.
"Gojo-Sensei..." Megumi sighs as he starts rubbing his forehead with annoyance "I was five when the two of you got together, I heard the story of how you two met a million times, this is not new to me." he explains as three sets of cerulean blue eyes gawk at him from all directions.
"Mama..." the two-year-old girl sitting on Megumi's left puffs with a ridiculously adorable pout on her face as soon as she hears the mention of her mother, and the five-year-old boy on the other side of the couch whiffs the air aggressively with the plush sword his father was forced to buy him on their way to the school.
"I know, Megumi, but this is a special occasion, you're gonna sit through the whole thing again so that you can experience this amazing fairytale with your beloved siblings." the tall sorcerer explains and his attention turns to his beloved daughter, Munchkin as he refers to her. The little girl slowly climbs into Megumi's lap, the boy instinctively helping her settle down as he embraces her lightly from behind, tickling her sides, and the room is filled with childish laughter. His son, or as he refers to him, Nugget, drops the toy from his tiny hands and huffs in annoyance, suddenly jealous of his sister's ability to gain the undivided attention of his favorite person, his older brother. "Now, all of you pay attention."
It was his first day at Tokyo Jujutsu High. Given his extravagant upbringing, Gojo Satoru was a self-centered douchebag with a horrible attitude. He first met Geto Suguru, the only friend he ever claimed he had, the dark-haired sorcerer with a warm smile and polite demeanor, the polar opposite of him. The two formed an unbearable duo and as soon as you walked into the classroom with the three first-year students, four months after the school year began, you knew you had to keep yourself as far away from the boys as possible. You became good friends with Shoko though, the two of you had plenty of common interests and your personalities were similar as well.
You tried avoiding Gojo at all times, you thought he was irritating based on his behavior in class and his rude comments behind your back, ones he whispered to Geto, making your dark-haired classmate laugh obnoxiously. However, Your efforts to stay as far away from him were proven to be useless when Yaga paired the two of you for a mission.
"So, why is a clan princess like you avoiding the strongest sorcerer of her time? Didn't your family tell you about the power and influence my family holds over the jujutsu society?" he asks you cockily and you chuckle dismissively at his words.
"I'm not a clan princess, Gojo! On the contrary... I come from a family of non-sorcerers and I was an outcast my whole life because I kept seeing things that others couldn't." you said as you kept hitting the curse with sharp daggers that you wielded in the air with your cursed technique "And I don't care about your power or your privilege, because I'm only here to help others." you make your point even clearer as you throw your last dagger with extra force, exorcising the curse without breaking a sweat.
"And that was the moment..." Gojo begins to explain to his overly bored children, but Megumi interrupts him.
"... when you realized you wanted to pursue the only girl that ever gave you attitude, a.k.a. Y/n. We know, it's getting boring."
"Don't roll your eyes at me, Megumi! This is an amazing story about the two people that raised you. Show some respect!" Satoru exclaims with an offended expression and Munchkin hides her face in her tiny hands, thinking that she is the one who is being scolded, trying to hide from her father's light-hearted attempt at discipline.
"Papa, can we have Splendid Sushi?" the white-haired boy asks, boredom evident from his facial expression.
"Nugget, you just ate before we came here." Satoru pouts, clearly disappointed in his kids.
"I know, I'm still hungry."
"I'm gonna wrap this story up quickly and we can go eat after." he gives in, a sad expression on his face.
After that moment you shared on your mission, Gojo changed. He was still annoying and arrogant, but he tried acting like a decent human being around you. In one instance Suguru explained that the remarks they exchanged with each other were making fun of Yaga-Sensei, not you. He felt the need to clarify that after Satoru complained to him about how much you seemed to hate his guts.
These things shed a different light on Gojo, you noticed how he was very attentive when it came to the small details you shared about yourself when the four of you first years were hanging out. He also ensured that you got home safe whenever you went out as a group and he even gave you his jacket so that you wouldn't catch a cold.
He also started complimenting you, your looks, your advancement with your technique, and he thoroughly enjoyed how you blushed every time he called you sweetheart or any other nickname he came up with on the spot. However, you were stubborn, even more challenging than some curses he fought.
"I'm gonna wife you up one day, sweet girl! Even if it's the last thing I do." he whispers into your ear as your head is resting on his shoulder while you're being driven home by an auxiliary assistant from a challenging mission. He thought you were sleeping, but you could hear his muffled words and your lips curled into a slight smile. Because Satoru was good, kind-hearted, and loving in his dorky, obnoxious way.
"Papa, where is Mama?" Munchkin asks with tears in her eyes, clearly distressed from the long period of time she had to endure without her Mama. And the only thing Satoru can do is get up from his chair, walk towards his little baby and embrace her with his strong and bulky arms, trying to comfort her, because he knows exactly how terrible it feels being away from you. He coos at her lovingly, kissing her chubby cheeks and he sits back down to continue with his story. He also puts out his hand, using blue to fetch a pink fluffy blankie he keeps in his office. Megumi rolls his eyes at this, he finds it annoying how Gojo uses his techniques so unnecessarily.
A month after Satoru's not-so-secret confession, at Nanami Kento's birthday party, it happens. Your first kiss. For the most part, the party goes terribly for both of you. He is standing in a corner, drinking seltzers orange soda furiously as he observes how a third-year is trying to hit on you with cringey pick up lines that make Gojo want to throw up. You seem uncomfortable with his advances, but Satoru doesn't intervene, because he has no right to. You two are not dating, you are just very close friends. Nothing less, certainly nothing more. However, as that idiot steps closer to you and you try to bring an end to his flirting, Satoru observes the deep discomfort in your eyes and the twirling of your hands, trying to wield some glass shards with your technique from the broken bottle spilled onto the floor. He decides to intervene, and with a single clap of his hands, he's beside you, his fingers slip into yours, stopping you from using your technique, knowing that using it without permission on school grounds could get you in trouble. The third-year leaves instantly once Gojo arrives and there you stand in front of the white-haired sorcerer with thankful eyes.
"Thank you, Satoru!" you say and from the many shots of sake cups of tea you had, you gain a newfound courage within you to get on your tiptoes and kiss his cheek. Or so you think, because in the last moment, he turns his head and your lips land on his. It's a short kiss, basically a peck, but the sobering reality of the consequences of your actions hits you like a train.
"I'm sorry, that was a mistake..." you mutter and you run out of the party, leaving him there disappointed.
After that, you don't talk to each other for two weeks. Gojo tries in the beginning, but you stop all of his attempts because you are too ashamed of your actions. After a while he becomes petty himself, claiming that it's for the better and saying the two of you wouldn't have lasted in the first place. He does it in the usual Gojo fashion, making sure that you hear every word leaving his mouth. He wants you to hurt just as much as he is, but as soon as he spots the puffy, red circles under your eyes, he regrets ever being mean towards you.
"Dada, why you make Mama cry?" the toddler in his lap looks at him curiously, her lips in a pout, clearly disappointed with her father.
"Hey! That's not true, Mama made me cry first, Munchkin."
"You never cried in your life, Gojo." Megumi intervenes and if Satoru could kill with his Six Eyes, he would annihilate the Fushiguro kid right now.
"Is the story over, Papa? You said we'd go to Splendid Sushi after." Nugget whines once again and Satoru knows he has to finish up soon, otherwise, his son is going to throw a tantrum.
Satoru rushes into the medical ward upon hearing the news. You went out on a mission alone and you were brought back by Yaga himself, on a stretcher. He doesn't know any more details than that, but he's frantic. As soon as he spots you on one of the disgustingly hard hospital beds, being treated by Shoko with blood running down your beautiful face, Satoru is standing beside you, holding your hand. You are unconscious, but it doesn't matter, his six eyes tell him that your cursed energy is stable, you have been knocked out, that's all.
"Step aside for a second, loverboy, I have to heal the cut on her arm." Shoko says with a smirk and Gojo steps away hesitantly, watching carefully as your scars slowly disappear. The healer leaves the room as soon as she finishes and Satoru is quick to return to your side, his fingers laced with yours once again.
"Gojo?"
"Am I not Satoru anymore, sweet thing?" he asks disappointedly and your mouth curls up slightly. You could have died, but he's still hung up on the way you addressed him. You look down at your hands, not able to respond. You don't quite know what you two are anymore. "I was really scared, you know? I cannot lose my favorite girl this soon, otherwise I would go insane."
"It's not a big deal, Satoru..."
"But it is...Don't you get it?! I love you." he confesses, he seems furious, but his eyes glisten with the utmost adoration "It's you, it's always been you. The one who keeps me grounded, the one that makes it worthy to be the strongest, because all this power is meant to protect you, sweetheart. So please don't ever go two weeks and four days without talking to me and for the love of god, please don't go out there on reckless missions without me because I don't want to hear about you coming back on a stretcher ever again." he brings your hands up to his lips, kissing them gently and you swear you can see tears swelling in his precious eyes.
"I love you too, Satoru." you reply, your voice barely a whisper. He's shocked, for a second, the next he's leaning closer asking for permission to kiss you properly. You grant it to him and he unites your lips in a long-awaited kiss, one that seals the fate of the rest of your lives, without even knowing it.
"That day, in the hospital ward of Jujutsu Tech, I promised my classmate, the girl I fell deeply in love with, that I would protect her no matter what. That I would love and cherish her with all of my might till the end of my life. I promised her that one day I would marry her, when I went back home with you, Megumi, and told her I was planning on raising you at eighteen, while she simply agreed to help me all the way, no questions asked. Three years later I vowed to her that I would be beside her in sickness and in health. When you rascals were born, I promised I would take care of her and you guys with all the energy I have. Deep down I knew from the moment she stepped into that classroom when I was fifteen that she would be the one for me. And that kids, is how I met your mother." he finishes with a fond smile on his face, but it quickly falters as he notices that Nugget is once again preoccupied with whacking the air with the toy from earlier, Megumi is on his phone and Munchkin is sleeping soundly in his embrace.
Suddenly, he hears your footsteps from down the hall and your sing-song voice coming through the door.
"Where's my beloved family at?" you ask playfully, opening the door to his office, and peeking in. Upon spotting the sleeping toddler in his arms you keep quiet, approaching the two of them and you take your daughter into your embrace. You look around the room, observing the changes, the very bored teenager and your rascal of a son sitting on the couch and you quickly connect the pieces of the puzzle.
"You did it, didn’t you, Satoru?"
"What, sweetheart?" he asks faking innocence.
"The How I Met Your Mother Thing? The idea you were talking to me about the other night."
"Maybe."
"Oh, my poor babies, you had to sit through that cliche story. How long did your dad keep you bored, Megumi?" you ask, your tone teasing.
"Actually it wasn't that long after Nugget started whining." the raven-haired boy explained, looking fondly at his only mother figure.
"I'm so sorry, guys, let's go to Splendid Suchi, okay? That would make you all feel better." you add, leaving a loving kiss on all the kids' heads. Your son lifts his head with incredible speed upon hearing you mention his favourite restaurant, up until now he didn't even notice your presence, too preoccupied with his new toy. Suddenly everyone is up on their feet, ready to have a scrumptious meal.
You and Satoru stay behind a bit as the two boys run out of the school and Megumi summons his demon dogs so that the two of them can play with the fluffy shikigami.
"When are you gonna tell ME that fairytale of yours, angel boy? I'm really curious how you scored a clan princess like me." you ask your husband jokingly and he chuckles, raising his sunglasses up his nose. His hands quickly snake around your waist, pulling you into a loving kiss. Your daughter finally awakens lifting her head from your shoulder, interrupting the beautiful moment between the two of you.
"Mama!" she exclaims, embracing you tightly, her tired eyes fluttering as you bring her closer to your chest.
"Not only did you steal your Mama from me you get her titties as well?! This world is truly cruel."
2K notes · View notes
amaranthineghost · 5 months
Note
Hi there! Can you do a pov/one shot/ fanfic where Lando is dating Y/N and her love language is biting. She randomly and softly bots Lando but he enjoys it knowing that she is fully comfortable with him to be herself. One day Max,Pietra and some other friends of Lando come to visit them in Monaco and Pietra is annoyed with Max for teasingly refusing to sit next to Y/N, P telling him that he can sit next to Y/n cause she doesn’t bite. Lando starts laughing and says that y/n does bite and moves his shirt to show a small bite mark on his shoulder. Y/N laughs it off but she gets insecure thinking that her love language is bothering Lando so she fights the urge to bite him again. After a few days Lando notices that she doesn’t bite him anymore and starts thinking that he did something to upset her. He asks her why and she eventually tells him and he gets a bit upset. He tells her that he actually likes it because its her way of showing her love and the fact that she is comfortable around him.
Idk some fluff or something
Thank you for at least reading this and I really love your work🧡
|  SINK YOUR TEETH INTO ME, MY DEAR ( lando norris. ) |
Tumblr media
ꕥ pairing: lando norris x reader
ꕥ summary: reader's love language is biting, but experiences a feeling of insecurity
ꕥ author note: oh to have a boyfriend to experience this with. fair warning, I refrain from using y/n in imagines unless it's really unavoidable because at this point y/n is a whole person by herself. if something is worded weirded, or 'she' and 'her' get repetitive, that's why. but anyways, I really like this request, its so cute and silly and i hope i did it justice :3
HIS BODY WAS OFTEN ADORNED with bite marks, indentions in his skin where you could see the canines had dipped it lower than the rest. it was a reminder to him of her love.
and he happily carried them everywhere with him, smiling to himself with every glance in the mirror at his bare torso. some faded more than others as they trailed along his arms, upwards to his shoulder and across to his collarbone.
the pads of his fingers slowly rubbed over them, a small smile spreading across his face, something he'd done everyday as the new blemishes came and went.
at first, he'd thought of it as strange, taken off guard by the sudden pinch on his bicep as she'd sink her teeth into his flesh. not so hard to break skin, she wasn't a vampire. but it was enough for him to be reminded of it.
as time went on and the occurrences became more frequent, he'd find himself smiling at it. it was his way of knowing she loved him, that she was comfortable around him, that she was safe with him, she always was and she knew that. at least he hoped she did.
to be loved was to be bitten, was what he knew. she had taught him that.
he had noticed a change though, it was hard not to. the sudden pinces throughout the day, he hadn't noticed weren't there because he had gotten used to them being there. if that made sense. it did to him.
but if he didn't notice the lack of sudden but light pain, followed with a trail of thin salvia leading to the culprits lips, he would notice the lack of marks that riddled his body.
lando had woken up that morning, groggy and his body sore from yesterday's training. the warm of his shared bed beckoned him to stay. to lay with her forever.
he wished he could, but he knew better than to lay around, even if it was with his girlfriend. though he might. was there ever any harm to remain within the comfort and grasp of the warm body that stayed passed out next to him, oblivious to his waking?
he always thought not. his trainer thought otherwise but turned a blind eye for the young couple. though their sickeningly love for the other made him roll his eyes behind their backs. all fun and games. something to laugh about.
his veined hands, warm and adorned with rings, traced across the low of her back. he watched the goosebumps take their place on her skin, her face stirring as she pushed herself further into the bed. he chuckled softly at her reaction, his thumb gliding across her exposed skin, dipping below the hem of the cloth on her body.
he lightly squeezed the flesh under his fingertips, pulling his hand across her back before replacing the covers on her. he slipped out of bed, leaning over momentarily.
his fingers slipped through her hair, getting caught in the knots that tied in the midst of her slumber. using his thumb, he brushed the strands from her face to see half her features smushed against the plush pillow.
another low chuckle escaped his throat, tucking the hair behind her ear as he pulled back and stared at the beauty before him. his eyes dilated the more he looked at her, but he wouldn't know.
his journey through the bathroom to get ready would be halted when he noticed a difference on his bare skin. but it wasn't bare because of the lack of shirt he found himself not to be wearing. what was different?
the pads of his fingers traced his skin for the indentions he cherished deeply, only met with the perfect evenness of his tan skin.
his actions haltered and brows furrowed. instinctively, he leaned closer to the mirror, the veins in his hands becoming more prominent as he pulled his skin. he turned in circles.
no blemishes in sight. not the work of his beloved girlfriend anyways.
he frowned, disappointed by the disruption of his routine. his ritual.
he swore to her many times that he could probably differentiate the marks of her teeth in his flesh to any other bite mark he'd come across. he knew her teeth better than his own. he swore he did.
he knew the indentions that littered his skin, but they weren't here. he wanted them to be so bad. why the change?
his heart sunk in his chest. he sighed. how could he not notice?
his eyes met his own gaze in the mirror, his fingers still tracing his bare collarbone and down his shoulder. he pursed his lips, eating away at the pink flesh until it irritated.
his hands fell down to the sink, supporting his body weight as he leaned on them as he pondered.
he surely noticed how faded they looked. how the red inflammation, that manifested on his skin, just didn't. but the change never processed in his brain.
he racked through the events of the past couple of days. nothing stood out.
they'd mostly stayed home together, other than the times lando went out for training. but it surely wasn't that, as she had no problem with it in the past. she understood what he did and the requirements of it that he had to meet.
lando groaned in realization. days earlier, lando and his girlfriend were out on the water with a few of their friends, drivers and their girlfriends.
it was a beautiful day, he had remembered because of the way the sun reflected off her skin, how her pupils shrank at the blinding light, but revealed the capsulating colors behind them.
he sat on the cushioned seats of the yacht, next to her with his warm hand on her inner thigh, a drink in the other. the rest of the group littered around the deck with various drinks in hand as they chatted.
most of them were just hanging out in their swimsuits as none of them had yet decided to take the plunge into the crystal waters.
they had sat next to each other for a while, lando leaning closer to hear her voice, the music was loud. her lips grazed his ear a few times, he remembered. the gloss on her lips left on his skin.
she remembered the scratch of his cheek as he'd forgotten to shave earlier whenever he'd lean into whisper in her ear. his lips ghostly hovered her neck, grazing her skin softly. despite the warm sun, goosebumps took their place down her neck.
he always chuckled at the rising bumps on her skin whenever he did something she liked. it always gave him a surge of confidence to know the effect he had against her.
"get a room!" the brit called out, laughing as he walked over with a drink in hand. his girlfriend followed behind, shaking her head at his words, but a smile evident on her face.
max fewtrell was one of lando's long time friends. their girlfriends also happened to be friends, long before the two guys came into their lives.
"mind if we sit?" pietra asked, not waiting for an answer as she took a place on the leather couch. leaving a space between the two girls so max could sit too.
she looked up to see max still standing, she rolled her eyes and patted the spot next to her, "there's enough room for all of us, why won't you sit?"
max shrugged his shoulder, "I don't know, mate, she might bite me if I try sitting down!" he exclaimed jokingly, inciting a laugh between the group.
she felt her body heat up uncomfortably, laughing along despite her discomfort.
pietra tugged on his sleeve, "she doesn't bite, you're being dramatic." her attempts were futile.
lando laughed and shook his head, "I don't know, mate, you might want to be careful." his hand left her thigh as he pulled up his sleeve to his shoulder, as he hadn't taken off his shirt just yet.
she felt her face flush and reddened, but hid it by laughing with the group, pushing her head into the crevice of his neck momentarily. his hand found her back again.
she felt the cushion next to her dip, followed by a hand squeezing her knee. she turned her head. pietra gave her a sympathetic look when she'd realized the girl's reaction.
pietra leaned close to her ear, like what lando and her were doing earlier. she whispered a few words to her before pulling away and taking a sip of her drink, wrapping her arm around her shoulder. she felt herself smile and relaxed in her seat.
but on the inside, she was eating herself up, overthinking to exhaustion. her stomach felt sick, was her habit a bother to him?
she found herself hiding in the bathroom throughout the rest of the hangout, claiming seasickness but denying medicine for it.
each time she find hersef back in the bathroom with anxious nausea and the door locked, lando would be on the other side. he'd knock on her door, talking her through it, asking her if he could get her anything, telling her he'd wait for her to come out again.
days past and she refrained from sinking her teeth into the perfect skin of his bicep, the valley of his collarbone, or the broadness before the drop of his shoulder.
each time she found herself with the urge to show the love she had through her teeth, she stopped herself.
it killed lando to think about how he could've made her feel. but he needed her to come to him, he didn't want to pry information out of her.
he could ask but he couldn't make her tell.
the door to the bathroom creaked open, lando's head snapping towards the noise, noticing the tired face eyeing him through the slit in the door.
he pushed himself from the counter, his heart beating slightly faster as he sighed. she opened the door more and dragged her feet against the tiled floor. he noticed the way her eyes squinted against the light.
she stopped when she collided against him. her cheek pushed against his chest as she leaned her weight against him.
he pulled her closer when he placed a hand on her head, another one around the low of her back. his lips were against her hair and he inhaled slowly. the faded tropical scent of her shampoo lingered in her hair.
in his head, he debated asking her. not only was she still tired, but he didn't want to push her farther, in case he had done something.
his heart beat heavily in his chest, muttering against her scalp, "what's going on, darling?" he caressed the strands of her hair, "hm?"
her heart skipped a beat, she thought he hadn't noticed, or that he didn't say anything because he had secretly hoped for this to happen.
she decided to play dumb, speaking softly against his bare skin, "what do you mean?" her voice muffled.
"come on, I know your biting habits. what's wrong?" he spoke patiently to her as he cradled her tired body in his arms, swaying softly as they stood admist the cold bathroom air.
her eyes fluttered shut as she mumbled, "I thought it annoyed you."
his head shook against hers, "why do you think that, love?" he held his breath for the answer, but in his heart, he knew what she was going to say.
he was met with silence for a long time, he knew she was thinking it over in her head. she finally spoke, "remember the yacht trip a few days ago?"
he exhaled deeply, his eyes clenching shut as he pursed his lips, "i'm an idiot," he muttered, pulling away partially.
" 's okay," she shrugged, looking up at him with big eyes.
he swore in his mind, if it weren't for the circumstances, he would've folded. he slowly blinked, his tongue gliding along his lower lip.
"it's not, darling. even if max and i were just messing around," he breathed in and out slowly, his hand caressing her pillow-marked face, "i'm sorry you felt that way, okay? you know, i love when you do it," he reassured, and he saw her eyes dilate when he did.
"really? but why?" she questioned him, scanning his face, eyes, body language for any hint of deceit. she found none.
"it tells me you're comfortable, baby, and that's all I want for you."
she listened for his tone. it was sincere.
and they stayed like that for a while. in each other's embrace, they knew all was well again as they talked through it some more.
"ow."
3K notes · View notes
upsidedownmvnson · 8 months
Text
idiots to lovers | eddie munson
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
eddie realizes his feelings for his best friend when you return from a few weeks away at camp - and luckily you've been discovering the same thing about your own feelings
just practicing my writing, idk, i want to start long fic format but i'm just a sucker for 3k words and a satisfying end, yaknow?
Tumblr media
"You know," Dustin Henderson says, elbowing Eddie in the side, "Y/n gets back from camp today."
"I know," Eddie snaps, looking up at the clock again. The drive was three hours, and you'd called him at ten saying you were about to be on the way home, and now it was one. And you should be pulling up to Steve's house any second.
"I just wasn't sure," he shrugged, "because you've been staring at the clock for two whole hours!"
"Will you be... quiet?" 
"I'm just saying," Dustin shrugged, "maybe you missed her so much because, oh, I don't know... you love her?"
"I don't love her," Eddie sighed, having to defend his friendship with you all the time was kind of exhausting, you guys were friends. Always have been. Why does everyone think you're dating? Why does everyone think he was in love with you? "Well, like, I do love her, but not like that - I just..." Eddie thinks for a minute. "...fuck off."
The rest of the group was snickering nearby, holding their laughs and trying to pretend that they weren't listening to Dustin's stupid questions. 
"You've been talking about her all day everyday since she left. When's y/n coming back again? Do you think she misses us? Do you think she's having fun?" Dustin would've continued to ramble if Eddie hadn't scowled at him, and Dustin knew this conversation would end like all the others. Eddie would ignore, deny and continue to pine over you while blissfully unaware that he was seriously in love. "Have you ever had a crush on someone?"
"Of course I have- what kind of question is that?"
"And what did it feel like?"
"What?"
"Just humour me," Dustin said, "close your eyes. And don't answer out loud but just think of the answer." Eddie looked at him unamused, but Dustin waved him on, "C'mon, humour me!"
Eddie sighed, rolled his eyes, and then closed them, making himself wonder what the hell he was doing. He thought about the giddy feeling of a crush walking into the room. He thought about the late night calls, and the subtle touches, and the pining, the wishing for someone to just... notice you, notice your worth and pick you, pick you out of a crowd of worthy people.
"And how do you feel when you think about y/n?"
Eddie froze, both of those feelings eerily similar. Dustin was close, but he saw Eddie's walls go up in real time. 
"This stupid experiment is over," he said, standing up and trudging out of the house, leaving them all behind laughing at Dustin's stupid... whatever the hell that was.
And then Eddie was outside, trying to enjoy the serenity of nature in Steve’s vast yard, while he puffs a joint he’d stashed in his pocket. Not wise to smoke his own supply, but everyone deserves a little something in the summer. Especially since he couldn’t get his mind off of you. Dustin was right about one thing, ever since you left - it’s felt like something was missing. He just… missed you. Sometimes at night, when he’d hoped you call and you didn’t, he would miss you so badly that it hurt. Like a physical ache in his stomach, or like there was this weight on his chest that he couldn’t get off no matter how hard he tried.
What the hell did Dustin know, anyway? The kid has had one girlfriend and Eddie didn’t even know if that was still, like, occurring. 
More than Eddie, but still.
But all those irritable feelings went away when your car pulled into the driveway. Every annoyance, every frustration, every ache, wiped away by your arrival. And it was a breath of fresh air, like he could finally breathe again. he snuffed the joint out on the step, just shoving it bare into his jean pocket, and stood, waiting for you to get out impatiently, bouncing his weight between his feet.
And when you did get out he ran to you, unable to stop himself from picking you up and spinning you around.
“You’re back!” he all but shouted, listening to the beautiful sound of the little giggles escaping you as he finished his twirling and set you down.
“I’m back,” you said, wobbly on your feet after the airborne spinning. “I missed you,” you said, lovingly wrapping a small piece of his hair around your fingers. He smelled like freshly smoked weed, but he also smelled like cinnamon and home. You’d loved camp, but you were so happy to be home. You pulled him into a hug, and he closed his eyes, leaning down to really wrap himself around you, and rest his chin on your shoulder while you pushed your face into his chest.
He could feel his own heart beating faster, he could feel the heat in his cheeks, and all he could think about was how good you smelled. Like lake water, and vanilla. And- and he shouldn’t be thinking like this, thinking how natural it felt to have you back in his arms.
“Y/n!!” 
The party shouted at you all at the same time, clamouring down the steps noisily. Eddie quickly stepped away, turning away from all of them and toying with his hair like you had done, trying to hide his pink cheeks and neck from everyone, but Dustin, of course, saw.
“Hi guys!” you said, bright genuine smile as they all surrounded you in a group hug. You had to worm your way out to hug all the others, Steve, Robin, Nancy and Jon. “What did I miss?”
And everyone was shouting things at you at once, and you couldn’t keep up, just smiled and nodded like you knew what was going on.
You followed everyone into the house, listening to Nancy talk about her time at an internship during the summer. Eddie trailed behind slowly, confusing himself by being unable to tear his eyes away from your legs. You had started wearing jean shorts… and they were short and he was frustrated at how much he liked them. And your shirt… a t-shirt tied in the front, exposing an inch of skin between your shorts and the shirt. Tanned and soft and…
Eddie stopped walking before he stepped onto the porch. What was wrong with him??? Why couldn’t he, like, focus? Why couldn’t he stopped thinking about the intoxicating lake water and vanilla aroma, why can’t he stop thinking about your legs?
“Whatcha doin’?” Dustin asked, popping his head out the front door. “Thinking about what a crush feels like?”
And Eddie took off, trying to grab the kid before he could dash away, but he was unsuccessful, and Dustin laughed as he dodged between his friends, hiding behind Steve, who was talking to you about his promotion at Family Video.
Tumblr media
You couldn’t stop thinking about Eddie. What the hell was wrong with you? Steve was talking about how he was promoted at work, and all you could think about was how it felt to have Eddie wrapped around you. 
Summer had done wonders for him, he looked the same, but different. Eddie just looked… really good. And you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him as soon as he lunged in the door. Dustin was behind Steve, laughing, and Eddie was frozen in his tracks, suddenly bashful.
“Are we missing something?” Steve asked, hip popping out with his hand on it. 
“No,” Dustin mused, “nothing at all.” 
And you gave your attention back to Steve, or you tried to anyway. but your eyes threatened to drift back over to Eddie, where he was leaning quietly near the door, all dark and handsome, waiting for everyone to get out of the way. It was near impossible to focus on Steve’s riveting assistant manager story, when Eddie was over there.
You’d missed Eddie so much while you were gone. There were cute boys at camp, sure, but you didn’t give any of them your time, even when they begged. They thought you were playing hard to get but you just weren’t feeling very… available. And you didn’t really know why at the time, but you were starting to figure it out. You weren’t available because your heart was already gone. While you were at the most beautiful lake in Indiana, your heart was back in a trailer park in Hawkins. 
“And now Robin works for me,” Steve finished, hitting Robin with his elbow and laughing. 
“You mean because I’m going to college?” she joked, grinning as his smile fell.
“That’s mean, Buckley.” Steve crossed his arms, pouting. “I’ll fire you.”
“No,” she laughed, “I don’t think you actually have that authority, but you could tell Keith I hurt your feelings, sure, and see how that plays out.”
“Okay,” Steve said, clapping his hands and getting everyone’s attention, “why don’t we head into the living room instead of clogging up my entryway.”
You and Robin laughed, walking arm in arm to the other room, laughing about Steve’s stupid pout, and mom stance. The girls at camp were so nice, and you’d made friends but no one could replace Nancy or Robin in your heart. Those two had been through so much with you, you were bonded forever.
The three of you sat close, you and Robin on the couch and Nancy on the floor, letting you braid her hair in a fancy way you’d learned at camp.
Tumblr media
Eddie sat by Dustin, totally drunk on the sound of your laughter as you giggled with the girls, and he realized… Dustin was right. All of them were right. He did love you. He was actually so in love with you and he just didn’t realize because you were so close, but spending all this time apart, it made these feelings just explode in his chest. And he couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t fight the yearning, or the pining, or the love he felt. He should’ve known. Should’ve known by the comfort he felt while you were around, should’ve known by the way he sleeps better when you have sleepovers, or how he’s always trying to sneak in a little skin to skin contact, whether that’s sitting an inch too close on the couch, or just holding your hand through a crowded concert. 
And suddenly Eddie is sick. He’s sick with desire, and…and… and he’s gunna throw up. He turned, high tailing it outside before anyone could notice.
It was going to mess everything up, being in love with you. Eddie had no choice but to confess, this ache in his chest would kill him otherwise, but if you turned him away, didn’t love him and sent him away from you, well, that would kill him too.
He ran to the fringe of the trees, leaning on a big oak and trying to take deep breaths. He was panicking, he loved you and he needed you, and your long legs… and he just couldn’t stand it, any of it. 
“Eddie?” you asked, softly, making him jump. He hadn’t heard you follow. 
“Oh,” he said, clutching his heart and leaning over, “this is a heart attack.”
You giggled, stepping closer until you were close enough for him to get another hint of vanilla. The nausea returned, was that normal? Nausea when a pretty girl was this close. You pressed two fingers to his neck, feeling his heart beat, as he stared down at you, doe eyes wide, and beautiful.
“I don’t think you’re having a heart attack,” you said finally, letting your hand drop to his shoulder. “Wanna tell me what’s going on?”
“No,” he said, too sharply and too harshly, and he corrected himself as soon as he saw your smile drop slightly, “I mean, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Why?” you asked, bringing your hand off his shoulder and back to your side. He wanted it back. Wanted you to touch him, and comfort him, and stay with him.
“I don’t know what to say,” he answered, eyes falling down to the floor. “I just… I really missed you a lot, and now you’re back, and I feel…”
“What do you feel?” you asked, cheeks heating up with anticipation. You wanted him to say it, in your mind, you begged him to. Because if he would admit that he loves you, you wouldn’t have to, you’d be free to say I love you too, and kiss him, and hug him, and be wrapped in his arms again, and again, and as much as you wanted.
“I feel like…” he sighed, “I think maybe I love you,” he whispered, voice catching with immediate anxiety, and his eyes darted anywhere but at you.
“Eddie,” you whispered, taking a hesitant step towards him, but he wouldn’t look at you, like a cat that didn’t want attention, “Eddie, please. look at me”
And his eyes fell to your face, and he caught your blush, and your smile, and he fell all over again. “Well, what do you, uh… what do you feel?”
“I think…” you smiled, stepping closer until your could wrap your arms around his back, smiling up at him and he smiled down, all anxiety erased by a simple move, “I think I love you too.”
And he was free, without another thought his soft lips found yours, warm and lovely and he was everything you’d wanted. Eddie put his hand on your cheeks, cupping them softly and holding you close to him, letting the intoxicating smell of you surrounded him, totally drown out all his other senses and hesitations, and let you have him, all of him. He was yours.
It’s true, you weren’t available all summer, and neither was he. Just two idiots who fell from platonic to romantic somewhere in the high school years and just, didn’t figure it out until now. He was yours, and you were his, always had been.
A round a whopping applause cut your moment short, and you both blushed furiously at the group of losers cheering for you from the doorway.
“We’re all very happy for you guys,” Steve shouted, “but would you both come back and enjoy this friggin’ welcome home party I planned?”
1K notes · View notes
crazyhearttragedy · 4 months
Note
Hi there, Lovely! I have a fic suggestion/request;
Everyone seeing Mattheo Riddle as the "stereotypical big scary Slytherin", but with his girlfriend he's just a big soft baby, who wants to snuggle and be pampered with so much love
PS: are you planning on updating the masterlist?
Soft Spot - Mattheo Riddle x Reader
Tumblr media
Word Count: 931
Warnings: None
AN: Enjoy this cute one-shot centered around the soft side of Mattheo Riddle! Thank you for the request, darling! Also, I did just update the Masterlist.
Mattheo Riddle, chilled and composed, had earned himself the title of the "stereotypical big scary Slytherin." His stern glare and intimidating figure were enough to make anyone quake in their boots. Gryffindors would shrink away from him, Ravenclaws would cautiously avoid his path, and even the Hufflepuffs eyed him with a sense of unease. Everyone assumed he was as cold as the dungeons he walked in, unable to feel warmth or compassion.
However, little did the other students know that behind his icy eyes and intimidating stature, Mattheo Riddle was just a big soft baby when it came to his girlfriend, Y/N. It was with Y/N that he showed his true colors—a gentle soul who craved snuggles and affection.
Every time they were in each other's company, Mattheo's tough facade melted away like ice beneath the sun. Y/N had the magical power to bring out his softest side, and he cherished every moment spent with her.
One lazy Sunday afternoon, Mattheo sat in the Slytherin common room, surrounded by his fellow housemates. The room buzzed with conversation and laughter as the students relaxed after a week of studying. But Mattheo's attention was solely focused on Y/N as she entered the common room, radiant and cheerful.
Mattheo's sharp eyes softened as they met Y/N's gaze, her presence melting away all his worries. He couldn't help but feel his heart flutter with warmth. Y/N confidently approached him, unfazed by the gazes of their curious fellow Slytherins.
Mattheo's arms instinctively opened wide, welcoming Y/N into a loving embrace. As she nestled into his chest, Mattheo tightened his hold, relishing their closeness. His friends watched in awe, unable to reconcile this tender scene with their preconceived notions of Mattheo Riddle.
"Y/N makes the formidable Mattheo Riddle into putty," whispered one intrigued Slytherin.
"You should see him when they're together, like a lovesick puppy," giggled another.
Mattheo, unaware of the whispers surrounding them, nuzzled his face into Y/N's hair, inhaling her familiar scent. The world faded away as he focused solely on the tenderness of the moment.
Time lost its meaning as they sat there, connected through their shared affection. Mattheo's heart thrived on this delicate intimacy, unaware of anyone else's presence. It was in Y/N's arms that he truly felt whole.
But Mattheo's desire for love wasn't limited to snuggles alone. Y/N)reveled in the moments when she could pamper him, taking care of his emotional needs. She knew just the right amount of love he needed, delicately balancing pampering and support.
One evening, Mattheo had returned from a difficult Potions class, his emotions running high from the rigorous experiments. As he entered the dormitory, hoping for a moment of respite, Y/N noticed his unease and immediately took charge.
"Y/N," Mattheo began quietly, "I had an awful day. Everything went wrong, and I just… I need someone to be there for me."
Without hesitation, Y/N guided Mattheo to his bed and sat him down, her caring eyes focused on him. She brushed a gentle hand over his cheek, wiping away the remnants of the day's struggles.
"You've had a tough day, love, but I'm here for you," Y/n whispered soothingly. "Let me take care of you."
With that, Y/N fetched a warm mug of tea, the aroma of chamomile hovering in the room. She settled beside Mattheo, wrapping him in a cozy blanket. Mattheo rested his head on Y/N's shoulder, feeling her comforting presence seep into his very being.
As they sipped tea and exchanged soft whispers, drifting into the night, Mattheo felt an overwhelming sense of peace and contentment. In that moment, he realized that despite the Gryffindor bravery or Hufflepuff loyalty, it was the Slytherin cunning and ambition that often yearned for love the most.
And in the arms of the one who truly knew him, Mattheo Riddle found solace—reminding himself that there was nothing weak about being vulnerable and craving love.
750 notes · View notes
Text
Robin drags Steve to a local art exhibit on a goddamn weeknight. This is not his scene at all.
Pretentious douchebags in scarves discussing if that splatter of paint represents socioeconomic downfall? Nah, this shit is not for him.
Robin ditches him halfway through the exhibit to talk to some sculptor that she’s got a thing for. Honestly, Steve would’ve done the same thing if it were him. But still, Steve is five minutes away from leaving her ass and taking a cab home.
He’s sitting on metal bench, centered a few feet away from the oversized canvas of scattered colors.
It looks like such a mess. Scribbled strokes of paint and lines that bump into curves. Everything intersecting. Someone would probably try to convince him that it represents the artist’s troubled past or fucked up childhood.
To Steve, it’s just a mess.
“What do you think?” A voice asks, joining Steve on the bench.
He looks to be about Steve’s age. Bold features, bolder hairstyle. All black clothes with chunky red combat boots. Elaborate tattoos creeping over the collar of his shirt.
Steve shrugs. “Truthfully? I don’t get it.”
“It’s art. What don’t you get about it?” The guy looks stunned.
Is Steve really about to argue with a complete stranger over lines and colors?
“There’s nothing but lost movements.”
Guess he is.
Steve observes the nameplate next to the canvas and goes off.
“Like this Eddie Munson guy held up a paintbrush and went, ‘fuck it, they’ll never know this is bullshit.’ Honestly, this whole place is a facade for people to masquerade around, pretending to be in tune to artistic expression, but they’re not.”
“They’re not?”
“No.” Steve answers immediately, a little defensive. “Nobody here gives a shit about what the artist is trying to convey, and this artist…”
Steve points at the artwork.
“This Munson guy knew that. Knew he could fool every rich asshole in this place.”
The guy looks at the painting and laughs. He’s got a nice smile, Steve thinks. Wide and genuine. Not too perfect. Not overly rehearsed. Like he doesn’t give out smiles to just anyone.
“Eddie Munson couldn’t fool you though, could he?” He finally says, looking directly at Steve.
The intense eye contact makes Steve a bit fidgety. Nervous. “I guess not, no.”
“I like that.”
“Like what?”
“That you refuse to see what everyone else sees.” The guy turns away, releasing Steve from the gaze. “Even if that would be easier.”
It almost sounded like he was trying to say he likes Steve. Not that Steve would complain if that were true. This guy is not his type, but that doesn’t mean he’s unwilling to expand his definition of type for someone that’s interested in him.
“What do you think about it?” Steve tilts his head towards the canvas.
The guy twists the ring on his thumb, processing an answer. He crosses his legs, then un-crosses them. Twists the ring counterclockwise now.
“I think the painter abandoned their originality to meet their growing audience’s expectations of them as an artist.” He finally says.
Steve scoffs. “How did you draw up a conclusion like that?”
The guy hums and abruptly changes the topic. “What did you say your name was?”
“Steve Harrington.”
“Right.” He gets up and gestures toward a ‘staff only’ door. “Up for a little field trip, Steve Harrington?”
This is dumb. Breaking laws is something Steve left behind in his angst-filled teen years.
But this guy is bad-boy hot and Steve is painfully bored, so he follows the stranger despite his better judgement.
They enter the door and are instantly greeted by a trail of empty paint buckets. There’s dirty tarps covering the floors and countless canvases laid out across the wide room.
Right away, Steve can tell this is what art is all about. The chaos. The urgency to create as soon inspiration strikes.
And these paintings look nothing like the one hanging in the gallery. These paintings are full narratives told through shapes and pigments.
These paintings could be an autobiography on the topic of someone who experiences life deeply. Passionately.
These are the untold masterpieces.
“Wow.” Is all Steve finally comes up with.
“To answer your question,” the stranger gestures grandly to the entirety of the room. “This is how I drew up that conclusion.”
“This was the originality. It’s stuck behind these four walls, but it’s where everything started. It’s where everything should have stayed.”
Steve carefully watches the man explore all the different works of art. Bending down to touch some. Smiling playfully at others. Steve is stupidly captivated by his ability to shine amongst literal art.
“What did you say your name was?”
The guy chuckles and walks back over to Steve. “I didn’t.”
“Right. Are you gonna tell me?”
“That depends.”
“Depends on what?”
“Depends on if you’ll still kiss me after I tell you.”
They’re standing close, Steve hadn’t realized it until now. Maybe it was him closing the distance. Maybe it was the stranger. Maybe it was gravity growing tired of their mediocre foreplay.
But they’re close now. So close that Steve can see the lightening bolt tattoo below the stranger’s left ear. A thought runs rampant in Steve’s slutty mind that he could see every single neck tattoo if he were to start unbuttoning this guy’s shirt.
He’s close enough to do it.
“I’ll still kiss you afterwards,” Steve agrees dreamily. Getting high off of paint fumes and close proximity.
The stranger lets his hand wander up the back of Steve’s neck, breaths getting caught in Steve’s throat at the contact.
“I’m that Eddie Munson guy.” He says in a low whisper. “The same one who held up a paintbrush and went, ‘fuck it, they’ll never know this is bullshit.’”
Every word he utters is cautious now. Like Steve might change his mind about kissing him.
Steve doesn’t change his mind.
He pulls hard at Eddie’s collar, lets their lips collide dizzily fast. Eddie’s mouth pushes against his to lead the kiss, Steve is more than happy to let him do so.
It’s a noisy kiss. Sounds escaping out of the corners of their mouths. Airy gasps and rustling clothes filling the open space.
Steve breaks the kiss to speak, inhaling as much oxygen as he can get. “I’m guessing you bring lots of guys back here and woo them with your secretly amazing art.”
Eddie had transitioned to kissing Steve’s neck while he was talking, but stops as soon as Steve says that.
“You’ve got it all wrong, sweetheart.” Eddie cradles Steve’s flushed cheeks with both hands. “I only bring pretty boys who refuse to see what everyone else sees back here.”
Steve moves Eddie’s hands and wraps them around his own neck. “Even if that would be easier.”
Eddie smiles. “Exactly.”
He goes back to sucking on Steve’s neck, like he was rudely interrupted before, and Steve starts to feel as chaotic as the art surrounding them. Eddie marks him with a fresh bruise, just below his right ear. Mirroring the exact spot where Eddie’s lightening tattoo is located.
Eddie licks over it. Swirling his tongue in sweltering circles, making Steve pant wow as he finishes the creation he was designing solely with his mouth.
He exhales a single laugh into their kiss.
“Why are you laughing?” Steve asks.
Eddie shakes his head.
“I really like doing things that make you say wow like that, Steve Harrington.”
Steve kisses Eddie’s cheek. “I really like that too.”
Eddie kisses him thoroughly slow once more, then nibbles over Steve’s ear as he whispers:
“Kinda curious to find out what else I can make you say.”
5K notes · View notes