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#....okay but what if I was their favorite?
nereidprinc3ss · 3 days
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slumber party
in which there's only one bed. fem bau!reader x spencer reid
fluff! warnings/tags: dark humor, (the word molest is used jokingly once but in my defense your honor its completely on brand for early seasons cm humor, if u cancel me u have to cancel the whole cast those are the rules, its just a joke cause reader always flirts w him aggressively, pls don't come for me i have a wife and children and three boyfriends to take care of,) mutual pining, bullying and death threats as flirting, they love each other so much and bicker like children, glasses spencer, (moans), emily and rossi are mentioned bc canon means fuck all to me, i think thats it but this is my most out of pocket duo so if i'm wrong lmk a/n: just a silly little thing that i cooked up, not a masterpiece but i think its cute!! I hope u enjoy!! lmk what you think!! looooveee youuuu
“Oh, there is no way.”
Your duffel bag hits the dingy carpet as Spencer is still closing the door behind you. 
“What? Is it—”
You give him a look over your shoulder, eyebrows raised as if to say, what are you going to do about this?
But he only manages to meet your eyes for a split second before they’re back to the singular queen bed, darting over the white sheets and pillows like he might find another mattress if he looks hard enough. 
Sharing a room with Spencer, you can handle. You've done it before. Whenever the team has to pair up at a hotel, you two are an obvious choice. And while you occasionally butt heads, mostly you adore each other and it's great.
But sharing a bed is a whole other situation.
One you were not prepared for. And evidently, neither is he.
Watching his big anxious eyes flit around the room nervously, you feel sort of bad for your reaction. You know you can be a bit… abrasive, sometimes. 
“It’s fine, I’ll just—I’ll see if I can share a bed with Emily or JJ in their room—”
Just then there’s a knock at the door. Spencer looks relieved to have something else to focus on, turning back around and quickly undoing the latch again before opening the door to reveal your favorite raven-haired SSA. Emily leans past the doorjamb, eyes immediately honing in on the awkward sleeping arrangement. 
“Oh my god! You guys too?”
“What?” You and Spencer ask at the same time. Emily raises her eyebrows at this and glances between you, but otherwise doesn’t comment. 
“Me and JJ only have the one bed. I thought it might just have been us.”
You frown. There goes your plan of sharing a room with them. 
“What about Morgan and Garcia?”
Spencer snorts.
“Something tells me Penelope wouldn’t be too torn up about it if that's the case.”
“Hotch and Rossi?”
The room goes quiet and a little chilly as the thought disturbs everyone equally. Emily frowns deeply.
“I don’t even… I can’t picture that.”
“Can we please not try to picture it?”
“Great. Okay, well. I just wanted to make sure everyone is suffering equally. Good luck, champs.”
“Thanks,” Spencer mutters dryly. Emily smiles, eyes darting between the two of you for just a moment too long, before pushing off the door frame and disappearing from sight. Once the door is closed again, a heavy silence ensues. “I’ll… I can take the floor—”
“It’s fine, Spencer. I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor. We’re both grown-ups. Besides, we like each other, right? It’ll be like a slumber party.”
“I’ve never had one,” he admits. His glasses slip further down his nose as he frowns. Your fingers itch to push them back up. 
“Then I’m happy to be your first,” you tease, facing him fully with your hand on your hip and barely resisting the urge to add, I’ll be gentle. “Do you want the shower first or can I?”
Spencer has a habit of looking you up and down like he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. Some might find it odd, but his utter lack of social graces is, lucky for him, incredibly endearing to you. 
“You can have it first,” he says, meeting your eyes again. “Just don’t do that thing where you get the entire bathroom soaking wet.”
“Aw. But I love doing that. It’s my favorite part,” you tease, scooping up your bag once more.
Twenty minutes later you’re emerging from the bathroom with damp hair, clad in loose shorts and a college hoodie. 
“Nice outfit,” Spencer says from the spinny-chair at the desk, examining your outfit choice with a scrutiny you wish you’d been prepared for. Really, you wish you’d known ahead of time you’d have a roommate and brought some alternate sleeping clothes. “I had no idea you felt so passionately about… Scooby Doo?”
“Shut up right now,” you grit, tossing your bag into the corner of the room and tugging your hoodie down over your cartoon-patterned shorts as far as you can. 
“What?” He’s laughing as he brushes past you on his way into the bathroom, bearing his own bag. “It’s a good look for you.”
Your face is burning as you choose the side of the bed furthest from the door. Springs creak underneath your weight as you sink down, sitting with your legs hanging off the side for a moment before swinging them up onto the mattress, leaning against the headboard and side-eyeing the empty space next to you. There’s really not very much of it. The bed feels even smaller than it looks. 
From the bathroom you hear the sound of the shower squeaking and starting up again—a cacophony of droplets against tile on the other side of the wall. You try not to be nervous as you imagine Spencer filling the space beside you in just a few minutes, hair wet and in pajamas. And yet you spend each second wondering if he’s almost done, wondering if the shower will finally sputter to a halt, and once it does, wondering how long it’ll be before he’s out again. It’s ridiculous how impatient you're getting—and by the time you finally watch the door knob twist you feel crazy. 
“I think that was your longest shower yet, Dr. Reid.”
The teasing affords you a moment to ogle him head to toe, taking in his choice of pajamas—tonight, familiar plaid pants and an MIT crewneck—as well as his hair which has already begun to dry. Briefly you wonder if he does that thing guys do, where they lean down and haphazardly dry their hair with a towel because they have no concern for its texture whatsoever. But you kind of doubt it, because his hair always looks so soft. 
“You were sitting here waiting for me?” He chuckles, and honestly you’d been expecting a shyer response. But you adapt quickly. 
“Maybe I was. Big spoon or little spoon?”
“Ha-ha.” He opens a drawer in the dresser and begins unpacking his clothes into it. It's a funny habit of his. You never unpack your duffel. “You took the better side of the bed.”
“Uh, yeah. I’m the woman. I get to do that.”
“Well you should know that if an intruder breaks in, I’m not fighting him off. You’d probably have a better chance than me.”
“And my chances will be even better if he’s distracted with you first.”
“So I’m just bait?” He scoffs, looking back at you. Strands of wet hair hang so prettily around his face, like the perfect frame around a work of art. You smile sweetly from your spot on the bed before playfully biting at the air in his direction. The message goes unspoken but reads loud and clear. Of course you are. You make such good bait. 
That gets a blush out of him and he has nothing else to say as he turns back to his drawer. Happily you lean back against the headboard, stretching your legs out and bouncing slightly in place. Beneath you the mattress springs groan and squeak in protest. 
“I hope you're not going to be this irritating all night.”
It's clearly lighthearted, but you promptly stop and frown at his back. 
“Call me irritating again and see where you end up sleeping tonight.”
“I just don’t see how you’re even more hyperactive than usual right now. Has anybody ever told you that you’re crepuscular?” Spencer asks, finally sliding the drawer shut and going to shut the overhead light off. Your eyes narrow. 
“Obviously nobody has told me that.”
“It means y—”
“I’m most energetic within the few hours around dusk and dawn. Contrary to your belief, Dr. Reid, other people are also capable of looking up words in a dictionary and remembering what they mean. Are you going to stand in the corner all night or are you gonna come to bed?”
“I am,” he scoffs, clearly embarrassed and shy and embarrassed of being shy. “I’m just… you look like you kick in your sleep. And hog the blankets.”
You shrug, folding your knees to your chest and hugging them quaintly. 
“I’ve never had any complaints. In fact, you should be so lucky to share a bed with me. All five star reviews, baby.” 
You toss a suggestive wink in at the end, which seems garish enough to break the tension so that Spencer can stop lingering in the corner like a sleep-paralysis demon and move to carefully take his place next to you. He almost mirrors your position, but his legs are too long to quite manage your level of compactness and so they simply fold underneath him. A few silent moments go by, in which you have the dumbest smile on your face and you keep glancing over to the side, waiting for him to be looking back at you. 
“This is already the least relaxed I have ever been in a bed.”
“Good thing we’re not going to sleep yet.”
Finally he looks at you, a casual mix of hesitance, concern, and moderate curiosity coloring his features. 
“We’re not?”
“Oh, my god, Spencer,” you snort. “I’m not gonna molest you. We have to do slumber party stuff, remember?”
He flushes again, glancing at the digital clock in his bedside table. 
“But it’s late. We should go to sleep.”
“At slumber parties you have to stay up until you literally can’t keep your eyes open anymore. Those are the rules. I don’t make them.”
Still, your insistence that you follow the international code of sleepover law goes unabided by Spencer. He simply leans over to flick off his lamp, bathing the room in darkness. 
“I appreciate the effort,” he says, and your eyes haven’t adjusted but you can hear the rustle of sheets and blankets as he gets under them, “but unfortunately we have to be awake and alert in five hours.”
“You’re no fun,” you huff, but climb under your own side of the cover and scoot down until you’re flat on your back, covered in blanket and hands folded on your sternum. 
Spencer doesn’t respond. 
It’s silent for maybe five minutes, during which your brain doesn’t slow down at all. Maybe you are crepuscular. Or slightly nocturnal. You have nothing but energy. 
In an attempt to get comfortable, you try adjusting your position.
The mattress squeaks. 
You do it again. 
Another squeak. 
A second goes by, and now you’re intentionally jostling about, squeaking the mattress as much as you can. 
“Would you stop that?” Spencer says, voice already gravelly with sleep. You manage, but you’re already devolving into a fit of giggles. “I’m going to smother you with this pillow,” he threatens, but you hear the disgruntled smile curling his words. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just not in the mood to rest.”
Another moment passes. He sighs deeply. You smile into the dark. 
“What are you in the mood for?” He asks flatly, and you’ve won. 
“Tell me a secret,” you immediately demand in a hushed tone, flipping on your side to face his back. “Something you’ve never told anyone else.”
“I don’t—”
“Shh! You have to whisper it. Those are the slumber party rules.”
“I don’t have any secrets,” he whispers, clearly flustered, and to your delight, rolling to face the ceiling. “None that you’d want to hear.”
“Oh, now that’s just not true. You’re an enigma, Spencer Reid. You fascinate me.”
You’re only sort of kidding. 
“I… fascinate you?”
“Completely. You know, ever since you moved your desk across from mine I get distracted just staring at you and wondering what you’re thinking about. But you’re very… hard to read, sometimes. I think it’s because you’re a Scorpio.”
“The position of the stars at the time I was born has no bearing on my personality.”
“Fine,” you concede, still in a glorified stage whisper. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t display the archetypal Scorpio traits. You’re all brooding, mysterious. Kinda, I don't know... intense and sexy and unknowable…”
“Sexy?” He laughs, breaking the whisper rule. You grin and let it slide. You’d hoped he would catch that one. 
“Hey,” you snap, losing the smile immediately and lightly shoving against what you hope is his shoulder. “You’re supposed to be telling me a secret, damnit. I won’t let your wiles and charm distract me from getting what I want.”
“When have you ever let anything stop you from getting what you want?”
Truly, your cheeks are going to start aching with this constant back and forth between poker-faced and huge Cheshire smile. 
“Stop flirting and answer my question, Reid.”
With the amount of times you’ve made him sigh tonight he must be dizzy. You chew your lip apprehensively in the silence, picking a loose thread on your pillow. It’s so pitch black in the room, you can’t see him where he lies only a few meager inches from you. But you can feel his presence. You can feel the unexpected bass to his voice when he’s tired and speaking this lowly, which you’ve never heard before.
“All the secrets I’ve never told anyone are just… depressing.”
Your heart sinks a little at the way he swallows between words, like that in and of itself was hard to admit. Unthinkingly your hand slides into the small gap of white cotton between the two of you. 
“Not very good slumber party material, I think,” he laughs self-consciously. 
“You’d be surprised.” 
The sentiment comes quieter and more serious than you’ve been all night. If only you had the words to tell him that he can tell you anything. That you want to hold his secrets for him under lock and key. That you would never, ever do anything less than offer him kindness and support—even if it doesn’t always seem that way when you’re teasing him. 
“Do you have any secrets you’ve never told anyone else?” He murmurs eventually, so soft it could kill you. 
And you do. There are plenty of dark ones, probably not all dissimilar from those he’d elected not to share only a moment ago. 
But you don’t bring those up. 
Instead, you decide to admit to something silly. Still, it makes you nervous as you feel it coming loose in your chest. You’ve really never told anyone this, and it’s perhaps more vulnerable than you’d realized before the words were already leaving your mouth. 
“I, have…” You pause to laugh at yourself, and continue on. “I have a stuffed dragon that I take with me on every single case.”
“You do?” Spencer laughs, so loud and unexpected it almost hurts your ears, angling his head toward you. Blood rushes to your face. 
“Yes. He usually sleeps in bed with me. He’s an excellent listener and has been the origin of several of my most genius breakthroughs. You remember Gibson Cooper?”
“Family annihilator from Houston?” 
“Correct. He’s in prison because Oscar helped me make the Cook Creek Campground connection between the O’Hara and Diangelo families.”
“You have a stuffed profiler dragon named Oscar? Is he here?”
“He’s—I mean, I wasn’t expecting to share a room with someone.”
“So he’s in your bag.”
“Yes,” you seethe, “and I will not be introducing you to him. He doesn’t do well with men.”
“You are genuinely psychotic.”
You huff.
“Fine. I’m sorry I told you anything.”
You’re about to roll over onto your other side—but Spencer surprises you by catching the hand that had been outstretched in his direction. He carefully intertwines your fingers and squeezes gently. 
“You’re right. That was mean. Thank you for telling me about Oscar.” His tone is surprisingly teasing, and you’re so uncharacteristically flustered by this rare show of physicality and affection that you can’t muster an adequate comeback. Spencer doesn’t seem to mind filling your silence, though, sounding a little more solemn now. “I’m sorry I don’t have any secrets for you.”
The way his voice gets all thin and scratchy sometimes—it’s like the earnest sincerity just pours out of him. He can’t control it. He can’t be anyone other than who he is. Maybe that’s a part of why you love him so much. You wonder if he knows how much you love him. It’s not exactly a secret—anyone on the team would be able to tell as much. You’ve been relentlessly teased for the way you are with him. For your batting lashes and your lingering touches and your unabashed flirting. But beneath it all is true affection, and nobody doubts that. 
“It’s okay,” you decide with a squeeze of your own, after a moment of deliberation. “You’ll think of something. ’Cause, y’know—you’re stuck with me for at least a few more days.”
“Oh, god,” he laughs, and releases your hand, rolling over to face away from you. But you don’t mind. You’ll get lots more time to invade his personal space over the coming week or so. “Goodnight.”
“Sweet dreams,” you sing-song, turning away to face the wall with what is perhaps your biggest, stupidest smile yet.
1K notes · View notes
harrysfolklore · 3 days
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I DESPERATELY NEED THEM PIASTRI FICS 💳💳💥
FIRST OSCAR FIC 🥺 i know this concept has been done before but i loved how this one turned out and i hope you do too ! lmk your thoughts
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
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liked by madisonbeer, oscarpiastri and 2,574,339 others
yourinstagram GUTS has been out for a week !! what’s yalls favorite song? 🤧
view all 15,965 comments
ynfan1 DONT MAKE ME CHOOSE
mtv definitely get him back!
ynfan2 choosing a favorite guts song is like choosing a favorite child
dualipa STUNNING ANGEL 🤩
oscarfan1 can oscar reply to this i want to know his favorite song
↳ oscarfan2 wbk he has this album on repeat
chappelroan lacy oh lacy 😩
oscarpiastri Love is embarrassing or logical
↳ oscarfan1 THERE YOU HAVE IT
↳ oscarfan2 whatever you do don’t picture oscar singing love is embarrassing like a teenage girl
↳ ynfan1 crying bc i bet yn has no idea of who he is
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liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 287,689 others
oscarpiastri F1 race winner has a nice ring to it 🧡
view all 7,773 comments
oscarfan1 FINALLYYY MY WINNER
landonorris Congrats mate ! Deserve it 👊
↳ oscarfan2 LOMLS
mclaren YES, YES IT DOES! 👏 So good today, Oscar. 🧡
longansargeant So proud of you mate 🙌
oscarfan3 do you think his crush will acknowledge his existence now that he’s a winner?
↳ oscarfan1 wait who’s his crush im out of the loop
↳ oscarfan3 singer and actress yn lol
↳ ynfan1 i love this lore so much
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liked by oscarpiastri, arianagrande and 2,740,727 others
yourinstagram tickets for the GUTS tour are on sale now who’s cominggggg🥶
view all 16,725 comments
ynfan1 LETS GOOO
chappelroan i can’t wait for thissss💜
ynfan2 tour of the decade already
mtv pop princess is coming
oscarfan1 do you think oscar woke up for the fan pre sale and got into the queue and all
↳ oscarfan2 you BET
oscarpiastri Count me in ♥︎ by author
↳ oscarfan1 HEEEEELP
↳ ynfan1 yn liked his comment 😭
↳ oscarfan2 somebody check on oscar please
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liked by yourinstagram, landonorris and 288,293 others
oscarpiastri Days off 🌊
view all 7,238 comments
oscarfan1 this is the hottest man alive
mclaren 🙌
oscarfan2 not him posting this right after yn followed him 😭 we know what you’re doing sir
ynfan1 yn likeddd
↳ ynfan2 i love how both fandoms are rooting for them now
landonorris Looks dope 👊
yourinstagram niiiiceeee 😃
↳ ynfan1 HELLO????
↳ oscarfan1 now he’s for real going to pass out
↳ oscarfan2 i bet he’s staring at his phone wondering if this is real or if she was hacked
↳ ynfan2 i know this woman SHES FLIRTING
↳ ynfan3 come on girl give him a chance
four months later
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liked by ynfan1, oscarfan1 and 17,397 others
f1gossip Oscar Piastri with singer and actress YN in Los Angeles today 👀
view all 3,028 comments
oscarfan1 OMFG
oscarfan2 no way…
ynfan1 YALL, HE GOT IT
oscarfan3 i cannot believe my eyes, oscar has been simping over her on the internet since 2020 and how we have THIS
ynfan2 i really need to know how did this happen
oscarfan4 okay but THEIR SMILES !!!!
ynfan3 finally a guy who’s not a loser and/or an old ass
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liked by oscarpiastri, sabrinacarpenter and 2,836,473 others
yourinstagram pastry boy clearly didn’t wait until i finished sneezing to take this picture 🤧
view all 17,826 comments
ynfan1 IS SHE TALKING ABOUT OSCAR??
oscarfan1 PASTRY BOY AS IN OSCAR PIASTRI ?
conangray love me a soft launch 🧐
↳ ynfan1 OMFGGGGGG
ynfan2 i can’t believe she’s potentially dating someone her age and with a job FINALLY
oscarfan2 oscar is proof that persistence is key and manifestation works
landonorris Typical pastry fashion
↳ yourinstagram idk how you deal with him all the time
↳ oscarfan1 ALSJAO THIS IS TOO MUCH
↳ oscarfan2 i need her to befriend the entire grid ASAP
oscarpiastri But it made it to your Instagram, so you’re welcome
↳ yourinstagram well thank you you’re very humble
↳ oscarpiastri Anytime 🤍
↳ oscarfan1 I’VE DIED DEAD
↳ ynfan1 stop flirting in front of us HELLO?
after the date
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liked by oscarpiastri, chappelroan and 2,027,933 others
yourinstagram the GUTS tour takes tokyo today !!! this is going to be one of the most special shows ever 🥺
view all 25,736 comments
ynfan1 AHHHH
ynfan2 huuuhh is she planning something ??
conangray that’s my best friend 😍
oscarfan1 oscar dating a popstar is the best thing ever look at herrr
landonorris Can’t wait 🙌🏻
↳ landofan1 HUHHH?
↳ oscarfan1 is he going ?? WITH OSCAR ??
sabrinacarpenter 💗💗💗
oscarpiastri Please sing deja vu tonight
↳ yourinstagram you got it
↳ oscarfan1 AH I CANT BELIEVE WE MIGHT HAVE OSCAR (AND LANDO??) ATTENDING HER SHOW
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liked by landonorris, yourinstagram and 538,299 others
oscarpiastri I had the best time ever in Tokyo 🙌🏻
view all 8,626 comments
oscarfan1 BABYYY
oscarfan2 i love him so bad
mclaren 🧡
ynfan1 oh we know why he had the best time
logansargeant Little boy in love
↳ oscarfan1 HWEEELP ME
landonorris Why are you posing like a five year old?
↳ landofan1 HEEEEEELP ME
↳ oscarfan1 i love them bad
↳ yourinstagram I SAID THE SAME THING !!
↳ ynfan1 man i love this
yourinstagram no picture credits ? really ?
↳ ynfan2 AHHH
↳ oscarpiastri 📸 credits to Miss America
↳ oscarfan3 WHY AM I CRYING
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liked by oscarpiastri, madisonbeer and 2,197,499 others
yourinstagram night version. 📸 by vroom vroom guy
view all 17,836 comments
ynfan1 OMFG???
oscarfan1 VROOM VROOM GUY?
mtv 🏎️ & 🎤 together was the best thing that happened to us
ynfan2 it’s actually so refreshing to see her dating someone her age who she can have fun with and not some pretentious old ass man who mansplains her
landonorris My children 🫶🏻
↳ landofan1 lando is the biggest shooter for this relationship
oscarfan2 oscar really bagged his biggest crush by being on her comments all the time that’s persistence
alexandrasaintmleux Belleeee 💕
↳ yourinstagram aleeeex i loved hanging out with you let's go out without the boys soon
↳ charlesfan1 LET ME IIIINNN
ynfan3 and when yn writes a song for him
logansargeant I can’t wait to meet you!
↳ yourinstagram pastry is sooo wrong for not introducing us yet
↳ oscarfan1 oscar wdym you haven’t introduced your gf to your best friend
oscarpiastri 😍
↳ oscarfan1 OSCCCC
↳ ynfan1 he’s down bad i get him
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liked by oscarfan1, ynfan1 and 18,826 others
ynupdates YN and Oscar out and about tonight !
view all 3,022 comments
ynfan1 OH LOOOORD
oscarfan1 I CANTTT
ynfan2 i can’t stress how good it is that she’s dating someone her age enough
oscarfan2 KING OF MANIFESTATION
ynfan3 i mean we already knew they were together but seeing them with all this pda is so cuuuuute
oscarfan3 IM SO JEALOUS
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liked by oscarpiastri, troyesivan and 2,965,278 others
yourinstagram 5 new tunes for ya !!!! GUTS (spilled) out friday!!!
view all 25,926 comments
ynfan1 WTFFF I DIDNT SEE THIS COMING
ynfan2 CLAIMING SO AMERICAN
dualipa YEEES ❤️‍🔥
oscarfan1 i’m pretty sure there’s an oscar song there i just KNOW IT
ynfan3 more angsty breakup songs IM READY
landonorris 🙌🙌🙌🙌
oscarfan2 ready for oscar to annoy lando with those on repeat
mclaren We can’t wait to hear all of them 🧡
↳ oscarfan1 MCLAREN INTERN ARE YOU OKAY?
↳ ynfan1 she’s the people’s princess
oscarpiastri I can confirm those songs are amazing
↳ ynfan1 he already heard them IM SO JEALOUS
↳ oscarfan2 spill the tea are any of those about you
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liked by yourinstagram, charles_leclerc and 869,044 others
oscarpiastri I laugh at all her jokes and I say she’s so American. So I might just be in lo-lo-lo-love 🧡
view all 9,725 comments
oscarfan1 LAJSIAHAUAB
oscarfan2 I 😭 CANT 😭 BELIEVE 😭 THIS
ynfan1 she’s wearing a friendship bracelet for him MY HEART
charles_leclerc I’m happy for you, son ❤️
↳ charlesfan1 CHARRRR
ynfan2 this is so cute i can’t also when did that sneaky shit go to his race
ynfan3 YN LOVER ERA YN SIMP ERA YN WAG ERA
oscarfan3 long story short: never give up on your celebrity crush
logansargeant ❤️❤️
landonorris Young love, so adorable
ynfan4 THE LYRICS REFERENCE
francisca.cgomes 🥺🥺🥺
↳ ynfan1 she’s already so loved by the wags
yourinstagram love youuuu, pastry 🤧
↳ ynfan2 i love all the nicknames he uses for him
↳ oscarfan1 pastry, vroom vroom boy. she’s just so romantic
993 notes · View notes
peachesofteal · 18 hours
Text
Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader
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You have no idea Simon’s rented a flat the next block over.
It’s the quickest walk, from your place to his, and he makes it frequently, especially at night.
You don’t know he stands in the shadow of a tree, waiting for your lights to flick on and off. On, and off, all night long.
Orion keeps you up, he knows without a doubt now. The tired eyes and tired smile you gave him the other day when he fixed the washer filled him with shame, miserable and scalding, a burn searing across his heart.
He gave you a baby, and then disappeared.
He estimates you get up every three hours. The dim, muted light from your bedroom window flickers alive, and then the living room follows shortly after.
If he was there, things would be different. He’d get up with Ry, get him tucked into bed beside you, snuggled up to your breast. He’d rub the apple of your cheek to gently wake you, just enough so you’d know what’s going on, but not enough to truly open your eyes. You would trust him, trust him to take care of you, and the baby, trust that he’s there. You’d be half asleep as he pulled your tank top down and helped Orion latch, half asleep when Simon turned you in the bed so the baby could switch, Simon’s chest warm at your back, his hand holding Orion steady. He’d stay awake and vigilant until he was done eating, burped, changed, and settled back into his crib. He’d kiss you afterwards, long and sweet, and then press his nose to your hair and breathe deeply, before waking up to do it all over again in three hours.
It’s all a fantasy, a secret dream he’s built and tucked away in his mind-
but it will all be real. Soon.
He starts with a dinner.
It’s around six when he strolls up to your front door. He’s got two orders of takeaway fish and chips, a favorite of yours (he remembers) and a strawberry mango smoothie (he’s not sure if you like these or not, if he’s being honest, but he knows nutrition is important right now. The internet says you’re burning a lot of calories, but you also need more sustenance and nutrient rich foods.)
You’re surprised to see him, when you open the door, too big sweatshirt rolled up at the sleeves, ratty shorts raw hemmed between your legs. He enjoys the way your thighs touch, how they press together, and remembers them as warm and soft. He’s (not so secretly, based on your first night together) pleased by your body. Soft and sweet and curved, but strong too, strong enough you made him a baby, to be a home to his son. And to him.
His favorite little kitten.
Your eyebrows crease together achingly slow as you take him in, and the spot the takeaway bag. You point to it, small smile twisting your lips. “You brought me food?”
“Need ta make sure you’re eatin’ enough.” He grunts, and then steps closer, crosses the threshold, herding you inside with a hand on your hip. He does a preliminary sweep of the flat, and then sets the bag and smoothie on your kitchen counter. “Baby asleep?”
“Just went down.” You sigh, leaning backward against the cool tile. “Was really fightin’ it today. I’m hoping he’ll sleep for more than the usual two, three hours he’s been getting.” Your head tips back into the cabinet, exposing the vulnerable marrow of your throat, and you roll, glancing at the plastic cup filled with cold pink slime. “And a smoothie?” He chuckles.
“Wasn’t sure ah, if you liked ‘em or not but… it looked good.” You glance at your feet, sweet smile shyly peeking at him.
“Thank you.” You whisper. Your voice is thick, trembling on the last vowel, and his stomach pitches. “It’s… really nice of you, Simon. To bring me food. I…” you glance up, eyes full of tears, and he’s drawn towards you like a magnet. “It was really hard today.” Your voice cracks.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” He tugs you into his chest, palm stroking slowly over the back of your head. “I know it is, mama. I know. It’s okay.”
“It’s not.” You sniffle against him. “It’s s-so hard, and I’m like… I’m not even a human- I’m j-just like a milk machine and I can’t sleep and can’t leave this flat. I feel like I’m failing, like I’m doing everything wrong and I’m leaking and I-“
“Okay, shhhh. It’s okay.” His arms tighten around you, nose skimming along the top of your head. “I’ve got you, c’mere.” He cradles your cheeks, tilting you upwards to look at him. “You’re not failing, you’re doing a great job. Orion is safe, and happy, and healthy. You’re healthy, and safe,” he wipes the tear rolling down your cheek. “and we’ll work on the happy part.” He takes a deep breath. “‘m gonna take some leave, be around for a bit. I’ll be here, to help.”
“You don’t have-“
“I want to be here sweetheart. I wish I had been here all along.” He’s earnest in his plea and hopes you can see, all the things he wants to give you, all the things he’ll do. The space in his heart he’s carved away for you, for Ry. The aching sore spot under his ribs that stings when he’s away from you. “Alright? I’ll be right here.” He pulls your hand into his, and then up to his face, dotting his lips across your palm, promise whispered away into your skin. “I’m right here, mama. I’m going to take care of you, of both of you, okay?” You close your eyes, take a deep breath.
“Okay.”
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milf-murdock · 3 days
Text
The Accident
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Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader (Established Relationship)
Summary: Simon gets the call that you’ve been in an accident and are in the hospital.  Warnings: Health scare, mention of hospitals, accident (non graphic), brief mention of injuries (non graphic), hurt/comfort, Soft Simon  A/N: This piece is dedicated to a very sweet anon who has been through a lot. Anon, I hope this brings you some comfort <3 I’ve also decided to submit it to @glitterypirateduck's May Writing Challenge! This is one of my favorite tropes, so I hope you all enjoy! Special thank you to @sim0nril3y for taking a look and for all the support
The knife glides effortlessly through the tomato, the metal utensil familiar in Simon’s grip. He makes quick work of the produce, fingers moving rapidly and precisely. “Knife skills aren’t just for the field,” he chuckles to himself as he adds the chopped remains to a bowl before turning his blade on a shallot. 
Just as he slices into the root, the clattering vibration of his phone against the countertop interrupts. Simon frowns at the unfamiliar number flashing across the screen. Not many people had this number; he wasn’t one to get stray phone calls, which is exactly how he likes it. He has half a mind to send it to voicemail, but something tugs at his edges. At the last second he swipes across the screen and raises the phone to his ear. The line is empty for a moment. 
“Simon?” The sound of your hoarse voice has Simon’s spine straightening, instantly on high alert. 
“What’s happened.” The sharp words come out more like a statement than a question. Simon’s heartbeat quickens. 
“I’m okay,” you start, but your wobbly voice betrays you. "But there was an accident—" Simon is in motion. Dinner is forgotten on the counter as he heads for the door, stepping into his boots on the way. 
“Where are you?” There’s a commotion in the background, some kind of beeping that Simon can’t make out. He catches your hesitation as you wait to reply. 
“Love. Where. Are. You.” His words are clipped, and for a split second he fears the phone might actually splinter in his hands given how hard he’s clenching the device. 
“I’m in A&E. I—the ambulance just brought me here.” 
Simon’s world tilts before him, and he squeezes his eyes shut, breathing in deep. One single stabilizing breath is all he allows himself before opening his eyes, resolute determination clear on his face as a decade of training takes over. 
“I’m on my way.” The phone clicks off as he grabs the keys off the hook by the door and rushes to the car.
The drive is a blur; he doesn’t pay attention to how fast he’s going, or what color the stoplights may be. Traffic laws are relative—he’s a man on a mission. His sole focus is getting to you. His heart pounds in his chest as he navigates the final turn, the hospital finally coming into view. 
The car barely comes to a full and complete stop at the entryway before Simon’s door flies open. 
“Sir, you can’t park here!” A disgruntled attendant calls out to him as he exits the vehicle, but Simon doesn’t even slow down, stepping around the irritated employee before barreling through the hospital entrance. 
Only to be brought to a halt at the open lobby before him. 
Shit. He hadn’t even thought to ask what room you were in. The frustration intertwines with the panic, and Simon has to force it down. 
He’s here. He’ll find you. 
And so Simon finds himself at the mercy of the kind, elderly receptionist, who seems to be taking her sweet time locating your information. 
Simon tries not to crack the counter beneath his grip, foot tapping against the ground in irritation. You could be in surgery, you could be bleeding out, any number of things could be happening right this moment, and there is nothing he can do. Simon silences these thoughts, keeping the panic at bay. “Keep it together, lieutenant,” he reminds himself silently. 
The receptionist, Shelley, her name tag reads, is unfazed by his erratic state, eyes squinting as she adjusts her glasses and leans back from the screen. Simon runs a hand down his face, using every ounce of self control he has to keep up a semblance of propriety. 
“Ahh,” Shelley announces triumphantly. “Here they are! I found them.” She turns her gaze to the hulking man in front of her, taking in his large form and tentatively eyeing the tattoos along his forearm. “Sorry, what was your relation to the patient again?” She asks, a note of uncertainty laces her tone. 
“I’m—” he hesitates. No words come to the tip of his tongue. He’s not a boyfriend for christ’s sake. Not your husband, though he wished more than ever he could use that word right now. 
“Spouse? Partner?” Shelley raises an eyebrow, trying to help fill in the blanks here.
Simon swallowed hard. “Yeah, partner. Just, can you tell me where they are? Please.”  
He’s not sure what comes over him as he tacks on that final plea. The desperation is clear in his words, but he couldn’t care less. Fuck it, he is desperate. Desperate to see you. Desperate to know you are okay—see it with his own eyes, feel your hands in his. 
Shelley’s pointed gaze turns to one of sympathy. “Room 315, dear. The lift is to the right.” 
The words are barely out of her mouth before Simon’s in motion once more. No time for the lift, he thinks to himself as he heads to the stairwell, taking the stairs two at a time up to your floor. Brown eyes frantically scan every room number as he searches for yours before finally finding the correct digits outside the room furthest down the hall. The metal of the door handle is cool beneath his touch as he pushes open the door, charging into the room.
He comes to a stop at the foot of the bed, eyes frantically scanning your body, taking stock of each and every visible injury. He can hardly control the wave of emotions that threaten to pull him down as he takes in your bruised and bandaged appearance. 
They’ve already set your arm in a sling, and there’s a large bulk encompassing your entire right leg, the bulk of it obvious even under the thin hospital blanket. An array of cuts and scrapes mar your perfect face, and the sudden onset of pure, unadulterated rage threatens to swallow him whole. 
‘I’m going to kill them,’ the words echo in his mind–a dozen violent deaths planned out for whoever did this to you. 
“Simon,” your hoarse voice calls out to him, but he can’t hear you over the sound of the roaring in his head. 
‘I’m going to hunt them down. And I’m going to fucking kill them for this.’
“Simon,” you say his name louder, firmer, and attempt to sit yourself up. Pain radiates through your body, piercing through the haze of pain meds, and you can’t help the cry of pain that escapes your lips. 
That is what pulls Simon out. On instinct, his feet move towards your bed, hand reaching out to clasp around your free hand. 
Your lower lip trembles. “Simon.” The word is pitiful on your lips–a plea, a prayer, a cry for help. 
It’s enough to pull Simon from the depths of this rage–revenge can wait. 
“I’m here.” Simon’s voice wraps around you like a warm blanket, and the dam breaks, tears flowing fast and freely. “It was awful,” you gasp out between sobs. Simon makes soothing shushing sounds as he holds your hand tight in his own, his other hand reaching up to gently brush the tears away, taking care to avoid the scrapes that litter your skin as you recount what details you can remember of the accident. 
“Shh, love, it’s okay,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “‘M sorry I wasn’t there, babe.” Bile threatens to rise in the back of his throat as the guilt settles in.
“Should’ve been there, should’ve never left your fucking side.” He stares at the layers of gauze wrapped around your leg, hidden beneath the thin blanket. 
“Simon. Look at me,” you insist, waiting for those brown eyes to turn back to you. “Don’t go down that road, Si. There was nothing you could have done to stop this.” 
“You don’t know that,” he bites back. Simon immediately regrets the harshness of his note. “You don’t know that,” he tries again, softer this time. “Should’ve been there.” He runs a hand over his face, the adrenaline is fading, causing the events of the past hour to finally catch up to him. He exhales sharply and looks back up at you, eyes determined. 
“But ‘m here now. It’s over. I’m here.” He gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “And I’m not going anywhere, love.”
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True to his word, Simon stays by your bedside the entire three day stay in the hospital. He denies your pleas to go home and sleep in his own bed, insisting on sleeping in the rough, uncomfortable hospital recliner. Not only was the furniture laughably small for a man of his stature, but after the first night, Simon is convinced it was designed as some kind of long-term-torture device. Not once does he complain though, dismissing your worries with a casual wave of his hand. “Slept in worse conditions in the field, love. This beats a forest floor.” Though by night two, Simon isn’t so sure. 
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He’s always struggled with nightmares, but those nights in the hospital, his dreams turn to something worse: losing you in a car accident. The scene replays over and over in his mind’s eye until he’s woken up with a start, covered in sweat, and gasping for air. His eyes instantly lock on to the vital signs monitor above you, watching the thin green line of your heartbeat bounce up and down in a steady rhythm. He slows his own breathing down to match pace with yours, staring down at you as you sleep soundly. He watches the subtle rise and fall of your chest, further confirmation that you’re alive. 
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When he finally gets to bring you home, he acts as though you’re made of fine china, driving ten under the speed limit. He carefully guides you into the house, hands ready to catch you as you struggle with the metal crutches. 
“Fuck,” you spit in frustration. “They made it look so easy in the hospital.” 
After the second time you almost trip over them, Simon’s exasperation gets the best of him. 
“Easy, swee’heart,” he implores, a note of desperation in his voice. “Just got you back, yeah? Can’t have you goin’ right back to A&E.” 
He wishes more than anything he could just scoop you up into his arms and carry you straight to the bedroom, but with your leg in its current state, he has to settle for just hovering, perpetually at the ready to catch and support you. He swears the walk from the car to getting you settled in bed takes an entire year off his life. 
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That first night back at home together, Simon lays awake, watching you sleep. The combination of finally being back in the comfort of your own bed, along with the lack of obnoxiously loud machines beeping and being encumbered by wires, means you fall asleep almost as soon as your head hits the pillow. Simon lays beside you, as close as he dares to get, still so weary of your injuries. He leans over to press a gentle kiss to your temple, just above where a deep cut runs down your face. His finger hovers just above your skin as he traces the shape. “‘M sorry, love. I promise, I’ll take care of ya. This won’t happen again.” His words are barely above a whisper, drowned out by the soft snores of your breathing. He presses one more gentle kiss to you before turning out the light. 
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xxsunoosprincess · 2 days
Note
Hi! How are you doing? I love your writing btw, you’re definitely one of my favourite writers 🙈
I don’t know if anyone has asked this yet, but enha legal line + aftercare?? What they’d do, how they’d act kind of thing? Maybe even how they’d like to be taken care of? It’s perfectly okay if you don’t want to do this 🤗
hi hi!! I’m a little sick rn but doing good because I’m finally done with school >:3 also u make me blush sweet anon… I’m glad my stuff makes you happy!! sorry it took a minute to get around to this but I’m indulging in some softer stuff while I sniffle away in bed :,) thanks for the request!!
Enhypen and Aftercare (OT6)
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pairings: Enhypen legal line x reader
warnings: 18+, minors dni, mentions of sex but not pure smut, fem bodied!reader
Heeseung
His face contorts into an expression halfway between pain and pleasure as he slow lying inches his sensitive length out of you, a breathless “hahh” escaping him as he shivers, collapsing onto you. It pulls an unexpected grunt out of you, followed by a series of giggles as he borrows into your neck, huffs of hot air tickling your sensitive skin.
“What the fuck” he whines out. You feel his hands squeeze your hips “your pussy is crazy”. The seriousness in his voice has you caught between a belly laugh and a faux scandalized gasp, swatting his ass gently as you scold him for such crude words. “I’m serious! You. Your body. You’re just perfect…” small pecks between each word, sleepy yawns, and a dopey heeseung clinging to you like a koala. Has fallen into the routine of fucking you before bed, claims it’s “the only way I can sleep now. Need you so bad”, and it might just be true because you can already feel the gentle vibrations of his snores against your collarbone.
Jay
Don’t play rn Jay is literally the embodiment of doting aftercare. The routine is locked and mf loaded. After he bullies your cunt until it’s sore and you are sure you can’t walk, this pillow talk starts. This part is just as much for you as it is for him, because he doesn’t think he could walk right now either. Promises of a future together, a catch-up on how your days have been, chats about if you liked the newest thing he introduced to your romp in the sheets. Just hearing your sweet voice cut through the quiet of night is enough to reground him (plus, he really does care about what you have to say).
I think he’s a little lazy with clean up, keeps a pack of wet wipes at the bedside table to give you both a once over, makes a half-promise to shower with you in the morning, and then rolls over to spoon you, peppering light kisses down your neck as your naked bodies intertwine to watch an episode of your guys’ favorite tv show. To Jay, aftercare is just as intimate as the actual sex. Unintentionally romantic in every way.
Jake
He’s the one that needs the most extensive aftercare, and come on, doesn’t he deserve it? He will eat you out for hours until you are kicking and squealing and prying him away by his hair. He will fuck into you from behind like it’s his sole purpose on his earth. And when all is said and done, he can hardly talk, slipping between English and Korean as he mumbles out a mix of curses and “so good, princess, so good”.
We wants you to play with his hair, curling up into your chest and peppering light kisses across your skin. He won’t admit how his heart skips a beat when you coo out a soft “good boy” to him, instead, he playfully bites you in retaliation. He won’t say anything about it, though. He loves the extra soft treatment, it’s like a reward for pushing himself to his limits to make you feel good.
Sunghoon
He’s such an angel. He’s sweeping you up in his arms to carry you to the bathroom. It doesn’t matter how big you are, he insists on carrying you because you are his baby (“you know, I don’t lift all those weights for nothing” cue the cheesy flexing). Lets you soak in the shower for a bit while he changes the sheets and prepares pajamas for you. Big believer in actions speak louder than words.
“Was I too rough on you today?” he pouts, slipping into the shower after finishing his post-coital rounds and eyeing the redness that has stuck around on the meat of your ass. No amount of reassurance of you liking it will erase the worried expression, eyebrows drawn together and lips pressed into a thin line. The only thing that makes him stop, makes him burst out into laughter and splash water at you, is the promise you make to spank him next time around.
Sunoo
I’m sorry but he is definitely crying afterwards. Y’all know I’m not on the babygirl Sunoo agenda all the time, but this is something I’m absolutely positive about. He’s just so overwhelmed with emotion, so happy that you trust him to see you in such a vulnerable state, so happy to be with you, so in love with you, the tears are forming in his eyes the moment he watches you reach your finish underneath him. “My pretty girl” sniffle sniffle “you’re so- fuck- so gorgeous”. Doesn’t matter how long you have been together, there is about a 50% chance of tears every time you guys fuck.
He tends to get embarrassed about crying like that so please give him lots of reassurance :(. Gets a little shy and whiny at vocalized praise, but loves gentle back rubs and showers together. Let him wash and dry you, he likes to feel like he is taking care of you just as much as you take care of him <3.
Jungwon
I’m sorry he’s so silly and sweet after. Needs to make you laugh after an intense moment. Eases his mind to see you so happy after being so vulnerable (firm believer in the wonie softie agenda). Still naked as the day he was born as he playfully wrestles with you in the sheets. He’s right next to your ear, letting our exaggerated high-pitches moans and squeals of “wonnie harder!”. He giggles at your indignant protests, reassuring you that he loves how you can’t get enough of your “very hot and sexy boyfriend”.
He seems like the type that needs to be constantly moving, fetching you towels and water and hand feeding you snacks. “Anything for you, babycakes”. Cheesy ass grin while calling you corny pet names in a teasing voice, dodging the pillow you launch his way.
END.
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a/n: reminder that requests are open. I have some to work through and might not do all requests I get, but I love hearing from y’all :3 also this isn’t proofread, just like every thing else 😭 xx - princess
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rosesaints · 2 days
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any chance you could do more megumi drabbles n hcs 💋
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✧・゚: *✧・゚:* one of megumi's favorite hobbies is photography. it all started when tsumiki had given him one of her old digital cameras, and it slowly worked its way up to storing more than a thousand photos, ranging from silly, stupid photos of yuuji, nobara, and gojo's antics while out on missions, memories that he never wants to forget, spots around tokyo that makes him stop and stare, a few artistic shots that he's actually pretty proud of.
but his favorite photos have to be the ones of you. soft candids of you while you're going about your day, captured against beautiful, mesmerizing backdrops, this serene expression on your face that he wants to revisit again and again and again.
"would you..." you pause, reconsidering your words. it's unusual for him to see you so nervous, so fidgety, and it makes him sit on the edge of his seat, waiting for whatever it is that's got you so anxious. "would you take photos of me?"
he raises an eyebrow. "i take photos of you all the time."
"i mean," you can't bring yourself to make eye contact with him, cheeks flushed and gripping the hem of your skirt, but you finally, finally force the words out. "photos that you and i can look at while you're away on missions."
oh. oh.
"is this okay?" you emerge from your closet wearing a tiny, little lacy thing, all bows and ruffles and intricate details, and he feels like the air's been knocked out of him. he doesn't even know where to look, mind hyper focused on the fact that you're standing in front of him wearing close to nothing, but—"gumi? do you like it?"
you fiddle with one of the bows, fingers twirling around the silky fabric and megumi can't tear his eyes away from the simple motion. "wore it just for you."
megumi's mind blanks continuously as he tries to find the right words, but for the life of him, he can't. so he decides to show you.
the camera's pointed in your direction, but this time, he's also in the frame, holding your squirming figure in his lap as he plays with your tits over the lace, nuzzling his head into the side of your neck and breathes you in, committing you to memory.
what the camera doesn't catch is the sound of your pussy sliding up and down his throbbing length, the soft, strangled moans you whimper into his ear, and the filthy, depraved praises he mumbles into your hair.
"wanna make a movie next time?"
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© ROSESAINTS ! — do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.
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formulawolff · 3 days
Text
too fast - l.h.
pairing: lewis hamilton x assistant!reader
word count: 1.3k
warnings: cursing, ANGST, lewis is kind of an asshole in this but he makes up for it, implication of smut, drug and alcohol usage, idk what else to include so if y'all find somethin' lemme know!
a/n: yeah here we go with the assistant and famous celebrity/athlete trope. i will always be a fan of this trope, no matter what. this fic is also heavily inspired by the song too fast by sonder. hope y'all enjoy! i figured i would take a small break from the toto content for the moment! <3
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"so how are things lately?"
the lights of vegas glitter all around as you inhale, shrugging slightly, "could be better, could be worse."
"yeah?"
˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖
"well i'm single," you avoid his gaze as you exhale, the smoke billowing into the cool air, "so yeah, things aren't great. maybe if you paid attention to our conversations you'd know."
"oh, right," he plucks the blunt out of your hands, "i don't know if you know, but i have other shit to worry about right now other than your life troubles."
"fuck you," you scoff, rolling your eyes, "we spend nearly every waking moment together and you don’t even listen to a single word that comes out of my mouth.”
“i mean,” he coughs, “that’s why you’re my assistant, and not my team principal. i don’t have to listen to you.” 
“are you fucking serious right now?” you swivel on your heel, facing him.
lewis hamilton, eight time world champion stands beside you, leaning over the balcony of his suite. beneath you, the headlights of cars flash, the white noise of airplane engines humming overhead. there are the occasional beeps of horns, laughter from the other mercedes crew on other balconies, and the roar of luxury cars as they peel down the straights. 
yet, lewis is as poised as ever, blunt in one hand, a bottle of heineken in the other. his gaze is glossy as he peers over at you, his nose piercing glittering in the dim light. his lips are pursed, as if he was processing the words that just came out of his mouth.
“hey,” he begins, setting the blunt on the ashtray, “i-i didn’t mean that.”
“i would sure fucking hope so,” tears well up in your eyes, heat flourishing through your cheeks and into your neck, “what the fuck is wrong with you? i literally do everything for you. i order all of your favorite things. i organize your ubers, your catering, other deliveries. i make your appointments with stylists. i book your photoshoots. i stock your fridge. i braid your hair for you. fuck lewis, i even call you every morning to make sure you’re up and awake. i can’t even get you to listen to me for three seconds?” 
shaking your head, you bring your hands to your face, in a vain attempt to hide the fact that you were now sobbing. the tears flow, droplets splattering on your top as your shoulders shake, “what the fuck do i have to do to be listened to around here?”
“hey,” lewis takes a step forward, his hands wrapping around your wrists, “hey, i’m sorry. it was just a rough day. qualifying didn’t go as planned. i’m so fucking sorry.”
“s-sorry?” you choke out, “you just told me you don’t even listen to me and all i get is sorry? i know that sometimes practices don’t go according to plan but you can’t just be a fucking asshole and expect me to be okay with it.”
“i know,” lewis exhales, wrapping his arms around you, “i really fucked up, okay? something about your tone just really set me off, and i am so sorry. i got into it with toto earlier, that’s probably why i’ve been so bitter tonight.”
ah, so that was the reason behind the little outburst. 
ever since lewis announced his departure from mercedes at the end of the 2024 season, the once positive relationship between the driver and his team principal was quickly deteriorating. frequent arguments about the car, snippy radio exchanges, and speculations from the press were only contributing to the snowball effect that was going to eventually lead to an inevitable avalanche. 
as lewis’ assistant, sometimes you wondered if you knew him better than he knew himself. over the years, you had practically learned everything under the sun about the british driver. of course, when he came back from qualifying a little quieter than usual, you figured something had happened in the paddock. 
you just couldn’t quite put your finger on what. 
often times, the two of you joked that you acted like an old married couple the way you bickered. yet, there was nothing as hurtful or spiteful as the exchange that happened minutes ago. part of you knew that he didn’t mean it, but part of you couldn’t let it go because of his inebriated state.
sometimes drunk words were just sober thoughts. 
“do you really think you don’t have to listen to me because of my status?” 
“no,” his voice is small, “i don’t think that.”
“then why did you say it?”
“i d-don’t know,” you can hear his voice falter, “i-i was just upset from earlier. i usually don’t lash out like that.”
a sniffle fills your ears, his chest heaving slightly. glancing up, you notice the glimmer of a tear as it slips down his cheek, the driver’s lip trembling.
“lewis,” the notes in your tone are gentle, “is everything okay?”
“no,” he shakes his head, “i-i’m sorry.”
“what’s wrong?”
“i do listen to you,” squeezing his eyes shut, he allows you to wipe away a tear, “i promise i listen to you. i don’t want you to ever feel like i don’t. i’m sorry, i’ve just had a lot on my mind lately and–”
“don’t worry about me,” tenderly, you caress his cheekbone with the pad of your thumb, “i promise that i will survive. maybe you can hook me up with someone on the grid, yeah?”
“i can’t do that.”
“why not?” you arch a brow. 
“because there is no one else i would want you with on that grid but me,” his eyes open, meeting yours, “i’m so upset because i hurt you. i have feelings for you, and seeing you hurt like that, it nearly split me into two.”
“lewis,” your breath hitches in your throat as he leans in, the tip of his nose brushing against yours, “i-i don’t know what you want me to say.”
“come on,” he tuts, “you know why you ended things with that guy. he was getting frustrated at how much time we were spending together. and in your heart, you know that you can’t stay away from me. the way you look at me, i know that you feel the same way. you wouldn’t learn how to do my favorite hairstyles if there wasn’t some sort of love there. you wouldn’t order my favorite food without asking if you didn’t care. you wouldn’t spend all of this time with me if you didn’t like me.”
“maybe i do, just a little bit.”
“only a little bit?” he cocks his head, “you can’t just admit you’re in love with me?”
“what if i was?”
“hmm,” he hums, his mouth only millimeters from yours, “i’d tell you i was in love with you too.”
“you would have to promise me something, though.”
“anything.”
“would you slow down a little on your lifestyle?” you inquire, slightly testing the waters to see how far you could go. 
“and what does that entail?” a hand finds its way to the base of your neck, warm and comforting as a breeze rolls through.
“would you quit going to the strip clubs? driving recklessly? living the fast life?”
“if it meant that it would make you happy and secure, yes,” the words are brimmed with authenticity, “i want to make you the happiest woman on earth. i’d do anything for you.”
“would you quit tomorrow?”
“oh love,” he chuckles, “i’ll quit this instant.”
“and i’ll keep taking care of you.”
“promise?” his voice softens, “you promise you’ll stick by my side? even after i leave mercedes?”
“i promise.”
the corners of his lips curl into a smug smirk, the driver leaning in even closer. 
“that only means we get to seal that promise with a kiss then, huh?”
250 notes · View notes
444lec33 · 1 day
Text
The Arrangement // Mafia!Lando x Reader Pt. 3
Part 1 is here, Part 2 is here
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WC: 3.2k
Warnings: traditional wedding and vows, casual dominance from Lando, all types of feels
No descriptions of reader's physical appearance
Author's note: Who's ready for the wedding? 🧡
The day had finally arrived. 
Your wedding day was brining up all sorts of emotions within you and you weren’t sure which one to land on. Your friends were the only thing keeping you balanced during the hectic day. Your bridesmaids were working tirelessly to ensure everything went smoothly. They’d turned what could easily be a stressful experience into something lighthearted as you all shared laughs and listened to a playlist of your favorite songs while getting ready. 
Heavy knocking at the door drew everyone’s attention. You all turned as the door cracked slightly. 
“Is everyone decent?” Questioned a Spanish accent from the hallway. Elisa opened the door allowing Carlos, Lando’s best man, to enter the room. You couldn’t help but laugh as your friend not so subtly checked out the Spaniard. 
“I have a gift for the bride.” Carlos revealed a pastel box with a large white bow fixed to the top. You noticed the card attached to it, your name scribbled in what you could only guess was Lando’s handwriting. You thanked Carlos for delivering the present. He nodded before turning to leave. Elisa was quick to escort him out not even trying to hide her interest in Lando’s groomsman. 
“That man is a gift himself,” you all burst out laughing as your friend closed the door behind Carlos. You shook your head at her antics. 
“Okay, can we see the gift? Enquiring minds want to know,” said your friend Luna. 
You reluctantly opened the card under the watchful gaze of your bridal party. Leave it to your girls to be as nosy as possible. You bit your lip as you read the handwritten letter to yourself. 
In the note Lando let you know how happy he was about today, especially now that you’d both agreed to give your relationship a try. You were surprised by the softness of his words until you read the final line of the letter. “I thought you might like something pretty to go with your dress.”
Your eyes squinted in confusion as you read your soon-to-be husband’s words. The box in your lap was far too large to contain any jewelry. Your friends instantly noticed your confusion and prompted you to open the box. Your fingers worked to undo the bow. You opened the box to reveal a gift that made you hot all over. There was no way this was your wedding present. 
“Let us see it!” One of your bridesmaids yelled as they all crowded around you. Your hand covered your face in embarrassment as they all peaked into the gift box. 
“No way!” The room filled with commentary from all the girls as you hooked a finger through the straps revealing a white lace bra and matching thong. 
Lingerie. Of course. 
“Looks like you have finally met your match,” stated Hannah as she tried her best to calm her fit of laughter. You hated the effect Lando’s present was having on you. In the past you’d never met anyone who’d caught you off guard, but maybe Lando would be the one man to give you a run for your money.  
As your friends continued to talk you looked carefully at the delicate, expensive pieces Lando had handpicked for you. How did he even know my sizes? You questioned as you realized the items would fit you perfectly. 
“This is so exciting! Girls, we’re gonna be aunt’s by the end of the year, I’m calling it now.” Luna’s words caused you to roll your eyes. “Adorable little criminals running around causing trouble just like their parents.”
At her words you couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah that’s not happening.”
It wasn’t long before your dress arrived and you were ready to kickstart what would prove to be a memorable day. 
“Aren’t you going to wear this,” asked Elisa gesturing toward the gift. You shook your head.
“I would never give him the satisfaction.”
❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎
Pretty soon you were all dressed, looking as stunning as ever. You carefully made your way to the car, your girls ensuring you and your dress remained in pristine condition on the ride over. Once you arrived you noticed the dark clouds beginning to form in the sky. You wondered if the dismal conditions would foreshadow your future life with the mafia prince. 
“Let’s get you married,” Elisa grabbed your hand already holding your bouquet. Carlos along with Alex and Oscar, Lando’s other groomsmen, paired up with your girls ready to make their way down the aisle of the church. 
You were fiddling nervously with the lace that held your bouquet together when you heard the sweet familiarity of your name being called. You smiled as you locked eyes with your grandmother, her dress matching perfectly with the color you’d chosen for your bridal party. 
“Grandma, what are you doing out here?” You questioned as she pulled you in for a hug. 
“As independent as you may be there is no way I’m letting my sweet angel be alone at a time like this.” 
You swallowed the lump in your throat at her words. Considering the strained relationship you had with your parents you’d opted not to have your father walk you down the aisle, your mother either. They didn’t seem to care, as long as you made it down the aisle the logistics didn’t matter to them. You could already picture the two of them sat front row ready to spring into action if you even tried to have second thoughts about joining your family with the Norris mafia. 
The wedding party had already made their way down the aisle, now it was just the two of you. Your fingers clasped the locket your grandfather had given you when you were a little girl. “You’re alright, sweetie.” Your arms were intertwined as your grandma gave you a reassuring squeeze. “I’m right here.” 
The doors were opened and the two of you made a slow trek down the aisle. You stared straight ahead as every person in the cathedral trained their eyes on you. You could hear your mother’s voice in your head reprimanding you and telling you to smile. You plastered on a grin as your fiancé came into view. 
Of course he looked good. 
Lando’s dimples showed as he took in the sight of you. You were a vision as you approached the alter. He bit his lip clearly captivated by the look of you. Lando pulled your grandmother in for a sweet hug. “Thanks Nana,” you heard him whisper as the two of them separated. He reached out and laced your fingers with his as the priest began to speak. 
You tried to sneak a glance at your almost-husband. The fresh haircut he’d gotten for the wedding paired with the well tailored suit made him look irresistible. You were thankful you’d agreed to give things a try with him. If you didn’t it would’ve made checking him out in front of hundreds of people a lot more awkward. 
You swallowed back your lust as you noticed the chain that hung around his neck, the platinum necklace falling perfectly against his golden skin. Lando gave your hand a squeeze, alerting you that he was well are of the thoughts you were having. He licked his lips as he rubbed at the facial hair lining his chin. The attraction was evidently mutual. 
As the priest droned on Lando leaned in, his fingers pushing your veil away from one ear as he spoke to you. “You look absolutely incredible.” 
Don’t react. Don’t react. Don’t react.
Oh God you couldn’t help it. Your skin grew warm at his words, a shy smile breaking through your usual resolve. Who was this man and why were you allowing him to get to you like this?
It was finally time for the most important part of the ceremony. The priest repeated the vows you and Lando were to exchange that would solidify your bond to the mobster for life. You’d opted for the traditional set of vows and Lando didn’t disagree. ‘I don’t feel like lying,’ were your exact words when the topic of writing personal vows had come up. 
It wasn’t long before Lando was slipping a wedding band on your finger, declaring to the full cathedral that he would respect, protect, and love you for the rest of his life. You weren’t too sure about the latter aspect but you felt confident the future kingpin could live up to the first two promises. 
Now it was your turn. You spoke Lando’s full name as the priest repeated the vows you were supposed to say to Lando. You had no problems regurgitating the words until a particular line came up. 
You paused, much to the confusion of many in the room. Your eyes danced between your almost-husband and the priest. What did he want you to say? 
“To respect and obey,” started the priest again in an encouraging tone thinking you hadn’t heard him the first time. 
You’d heard him just fine. There were a lot of things you’d begrudgingly agree to but this wasn’t one of them. 
“To respect,” you stated hoping that would suffice. 
“And obey,” said the priest once again. 
You could feel the frustration emanating from your parents at your lack of compliance. Lando didn’t seem to mind your antics as a playful grin reached his lips, his eyes filled with humor. 
“She’s just nervous is all,” you heard your mother’s poor attempt at quelling the guests’ concerns as you prolonged what should have been a straightforward task. 
Once again you found Lando leaning into you, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. 
“Be a good girl for me, yeah?” 
How were you going to live with this man? Your eyes closed shut as you quickly repeated the line, hoping to bring the wedding to a close. Lando and both of your families were visibly pleased with your compliance (for very different reasons of course). 
With rings on both your fingers it was time to make this whole thing official. “By the power vested in me, I now declare you both to be husband and wife.” The priest turned to Lando declaring happily, “You may now kiss the bride.”
“Just like we practiced,” Lando spoke for only your ears as he leaned in. None of the previous kisses could have prepared you for this. Lando cupped your jaw, his hand softly cradling the side of your face as he kissed you. And what a kiss it was. You could hear cheers throughout the room and whistles from his groomsmen as Lando depended the kiss. When you finally broke apart his nose brushed gently against yours. “Mrs. Norris,” he stated, clearly loving the taste of the words in his mouth. 
With that the two of you were exiting the church, your guests all behind you cheering as you made your way to the car. Lando was a perfect gentleman as he helped you into the car ensuring that your dress and long veil were neatly tucked inside before he closed the door. 
❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎
Your wedding reception was in full swing. Drinks were flowing and everyone was mingling. You didn’t expect much from the evening hoping to go through the motions and have a relatively laidback time. You felt Lando’s arm slip away from your waist as he excused himself from the conversation. Your eyes followed Lando as you watched him slip away with your father and father-in-law.
You knew this was all just an elaborate business deal but that didn’t stop the emotions you were feeling. As much as you were initially opposed to this entire ordeal today was still your wedding day. You’d hoped everyone around you would respect the fact that this was a moment you’d only have once and act accordingly. Sensing your change in energy Hannah grabbed your wrist and tugged you towards the dance floor. “No sadness today. Not on my watch.”
With a fair share of drinks in your system you had almost forgotten all about your newly minted husband abandoning you. That was until Lando reappeared beside you looking as casual as ever. The glare on your face was enough to make him ask “What have I done now?”
You shrugged trying to look unfazed. “Nothing. Well, unless abandoning your wife at your own wedding counts for something.” You shook your head hating that you were letting Lando have an affect on you. “This is stupid,” you said more to yourself. “I should’ve known this was all bs when you said you actually wanted to give us a chance. This is still nothing more than a transaction to you.” 
Somewhere along the way the friends who were sat around you slipped away, allowing Lando to sit beside you. He pulled his chair close to you. “Listen, there are some things you’re just going to have to understand if any of this is to work. I can't tell you everything that goes on in my world. My job is to keep you safe and if I’m any good at it you’ll never know what’s going on with that part of my life.” 
You opened your mouth ready to speak but Lando cut you off. “I’m not arguing with you on this and I’m not changing my mind. I want you completely separate from my work.” 
As if on cue Lando’s father approached letting him know there was still more to discuss before the night was over. You sighed heavily, crossing your arms as you glared at your husband. “Just go.”
Lando called your name but you refused to look at him. “I don’t want you to be mad at me.” He reached out to cup your chin, forcing you to look at him. His tone was as serious as ever. “And I don’t need you causing a scene. Be a big girl and do what I’m telling you.” 
For reasons unknown the condescension he spoke to you with had the opposite effect on you. While normally you’d bite back with a sharp comment, this time you faltered. Never had you allowed a man talk to you like this and get away with it. Maybe it was because a small part of you actually wanted this to work. An even smaller part knowing if you relinquished control to the man before you he would not abuse his power. 
You nodded finally conceding. “Alright.” 
You didn’t miss the joy on your husband’s face as he grabbed your hand and kissed the finger where two rings now sat. “Let’s go cut the cake.” 
All eyes were on the golden couple as Lando hovered closely behind you. His hand covered yours as you sawed into the perfect cake and plated a slice. Lando had sense enough not to ruin your makeup with cake, instead opting to feed it to you. You accepted a piece and couldn’t help but moan at the heavenly taste. You plucked a piece from the plate and fed it to Lando. He was quick to capture your wrist, tongue licking the ivory frosting from the pads of your fingers, much to the delight of the onlookers. 
Eventually Lando was pulled away by your father. This time around you opted not to care as you remembered Lando’s words. He wasn’t gone for long when Alex made an announcement for the two of you to come forward. Oscar dragged a chair to the center of the floor as Carlos announced it was time for the garter toss. 
There was no time to protest as Lando guided you towards the chair. The room grew hot as Lando helped you sit, placing a kiss to your cheek. You tried not to look at him as he lowered himself to his knees before you, a mischievous look in his eyes as he grabbed your calf, placing a kiss on the inside of your ankle. The excited sounds from your guests (especially Lando’s friends) couldn’t be ignored as he lifted the skirt of your dress just enough to disappear under it. 
And in that moment you hated the classic wedding tradition. Trying to train your mind on innocent thoughts was hard as Lando kissed up your leg. It felt like forever before he located the blue lace of the garter, opting to capture it with his teeth. There were deafening cheers in the room as Lando dragged the fabric down the length of your leg. He emerged with the garter between his teeth looking very pleased with himself and the reaction he’d gotten out of you. As tradition went, the single men all gathered as Lando launched the slinky material into the crowd. Carlos found victory as he easily caught the blue lace. 
You were still in a haze from what just occurred. Having Lando that close to certain parts of your body was something you’d only considered in the privacy of your thoughts. You never expected that kind of proximity to come as the two of you were surrounded by family and friends but here you were. 
Lando helped you up, his arms wrapped around your waist as he leaned in and whispered. “Wifey’s looking a bit flustered,” he teased as you pushed at his chest. 
“Trust me, I can handle whatever you send my way.”
The night carried on pretty easily. At some point your friends grabbed you and led you upstairs to get changed. The girls helped you change out of your wedding dress and transition to your final look. The white mini dress you wore captured everyone’s attention as you descended the stairs, careful not to trip in your heels. Lando was front and center, once again praising your beauty as you took his arm. 
The two of you made your rounds thanking everyone in attendance for showing up on your big day. There were tears in your eyes as you thanked your bridal party, pulling your girls in for hugs, unsure of when you’d see them again. Out of obligation more than anything else you hugged your parents. Your interaction with them felt sterile as they embraced you, their faces telling you they were just happy you’d helped them secure the connection they’d always dreamt of. 
Lando walked over, his arm guiding your grandmother to you. She squeezed you in tight embrace and in that moment you were reminded what love actually felt like. You made a mental note to thank Lando for always being so sweet to the woman you loved more than anyone. 
And with that the two of you were off. The guests lined the walkway as Lando opened the door to one of his many novelty sports cars and helped you in. The two of you waved at the guests one final time before taking off. As you watched the crowd disappear Lando reached over, his hand protectively gripping your exposed thigh. “Let’s see where tonight takes us.”
❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎
Author's note: I hope you all enjoyed the update! Let me know if I should post part 4.
Lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list or removed
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361 notes · View notes
thinkingaboutjaedyn · 24 hours
Note
imagine u n emily cooking together on ig live and everyone loves it when ur telling her off, she’s always getting in the way, or just straight up being a menace LMFAOOKO
FAVORITE ANNOYANCE | e.engstler x reader
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prompt: emily being really fucking annoying while y'all are trying to cook.
author notes: i need to write for more basketball players so here you go taytay 🩷 enjoy it!
contains: emily engstler x shorter!reader, fluff, emily needs her ass beat, annoying as a love language, bad pizza making describing, inspo from this tiktok
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"heyy guys!" you say, setting up your phone against a vase on the kitchen island. emily have just got back from practice and was obviously starving so she begged you to cook. you obliged but only because she has to help you. what a dumb idea that would end up being.
you squint your eyes as you look at the number of people coming into the live. emily comes up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist. she pecks the side of your face before saying, "hi babe. hi chat."
"ew, don't say chat. you sound like some teenage streamer," you make a face of disgust before laughing. emily just shrugs. turning you to face her instead of the phone.
"but baby, that's what you call it," she blinks at you. acting confused until you stand on your tippy toes to peck her lips. emily pecks you back, licking her lips afterwards before looking at your phone screen. you move away from the kitchen island to go to the fridge. your body barely still in frame. emily looks at the comments coming through on the live, chuckling at a few.
"what we about to do? cook-" before emily could finish her sentence fully, you chim in. coming into the frame fully, holding the tomatoes needed to make the pizza sauce. "we are about to cook because emily was starving so bad and was just so hungry. go ahead, tell them what you told me when you came home," your tone sounds annoyed but there is obvious fondness underneath.
"aye, the chat said stop being mean to me," emily crosses her arms across her chest as she looks at you.
"the chat should be on my side."
"thought chat was for teenage streamers?"
"dear god, be quiet before i don't cook and go to bed. you can do this all on your own if you want."
"what? babeee, noo," the american player moves to pull you close by the waist. leaning down to kiss the top of your head; a usual emily apology. obviously you accept it. a bashful smile on your lips as you try to push her away but those muscles of hers aren't just for show, keeping you close easily.
emily sighs before shaking her head, "okay, chat. when i came home i begged my beautiful amazing so spectacular girlfriend to cook for me and cried when she said she didn't feel like it. even though i know how to cook, but it's just better when she does it." the confession makes the live explode with comments. with most making fun of emily (lovingly) and some relating to the feeling of wanting your girlfriend to do things for you.
a playfully smug smile sits on your lips, "there. she admitted it guys, she can't live without me."
"i didn't say all that.."
"i will stab you with this knife i'm about to grab," you gesture to the knife block on the counters behind you two. emily immediately starts talking to the chat, "i told y'all she's always threatening me."
"only when you're bad, babes," you chuckle. getting out of her grasp to grab two knives from the knife block. setting one down in front of emily, slapping her hand when she tries to grab it.
"no touching until i get the cutting boards," you set down your knife. opening the counter to grab two cutting boards (all while emily stands there with her arms crossed). putting them onto the island, one in front of emily and one in front of you. then you grab the tomatoes, setting them near your phone. not too close though so you two can still see the comments coming in.
"now you can touch."
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emily and you get into a small routine of cutting the tomatoes. answering questions at the same time with the basketball player answering most of them.
"i don't know who keeps asking what we're cooking, but guys c'mon now.. i said it so many times. we're making pizza," emily sighs. halfway through with her tomato pile, she decides it's the best time to bother you while you're focused on finishing yours.
"babe, chat said why is my hair up even though i'm in my own home. should i tell them how you hate my hair and told me you would cut it off if i bought it anywhere near your kitchen?" she smiles at you like she didn't just say the most out of pocket lie ever. you give her a warning glare, not even answering her before going back to cutting. however, of course emily couldn't be satisfied with that. she needs a reaction so she starts to poke you in the shoulder.
"babe"
you don't answer her.
"babe"
another glare.
"babeeee."
"all i know is that if you keep touching me, i'm going to cut off your hand. now stop being childish and finish chopping those tomatoes before nobody will be eating tonight," you finally answer. slapping her hand away. she doesn't even flinch, just smiling.
"my girlfriend is being mean to me again." she turns her attention to the camera, a great relief to you. obviously the chat comes to her defense again but you tell them off by threatening to end the live all together.
the two of you continue to make the pizza. eventually you get out the small roll of cheese out of the fridge, forcing emily to grate it. while you smash the tomatoes up for the sauce.
emily is still answering more comments and she's having fun with it too:
ilovelesbians178 who do you wish would visit you more?
"hailey. that blonde chick never come over here, but it's okay, i know she's all superstar now."
emilysdutchbraids is your natural hair color actually blonde or what
"uh, i always say my hair is naturally blonde with dark roots but i might be lying.. nobody gotta know."
y/n&emilyop why is your tall strong ass the one grating cheese while y/n's tiny self is smashing the tomatoes?
emily starts laughing so hard that you look over at her. she gives you a look back before shaking her head, "yeah, nah, i don't know why i'm the one grating cheese. this is really not a good fit for me, huh?"
you look at her again, your brows furrowed as you stand there confused.
"ems, what are you talking about?" your arms are crossed across your chest. you come closer to her, looking at your phone to check the live comments. emily tries to turn you away from looking at the screen, laughing, "nothing, baby. people just don't get why your tinsy pinsy self is smashing tomatoes while my giant self is grating cheese."
the playful mocking in her tone makes you gasp. quick to slap her shoulder, she lets out an ow!
"babyyy, i didn't do anything," her tone sounds sad but emily is literally smiling at you and is so close to laughing that you can hear in her voice. "i was just reading the comments," is her excuse.
you slap her shoulder again before moving away from her. "yeah, sure. you're so innocent and totally didn't read it out on purpose. shut up and make the dough since you're so big and strong," you get out the ingredients needed or at least try to as emily follows you around the kitchen like a lost puppy. if you're trying to grab the oil out of the cabinet? she's blocking it. you're trying to get the yeast out? again emily is there blocking it. you try to push her away, hitting her on the shoulder again but she always just laughs.
"i get way worse fouls in games than that little hit, baby," she smirks at you. normally that smirk would be so attractive but you are so blinded by irritation but right now you are this close to kicking emily out of the kitchen.
you decide to go a different route than hitting. going straight for her stomach as you tickle her. emily nearly screams in surprise, almost knocking over a bunch of stuff, you two should have been cleaned, off of the counter as she tries to get away from you.
you stick out your tongue at her once she gets away. coming back over to your phone to check the comments.
"emily acts like a bad ass kid. oh, yeah, we all know that," you say. giggling once emily comes back close to you, her arms crossed across her chest.
"and i don't know why she's next to me right now trying to manipulate me into saying a compliment. you can cross your arms until the day you die, miss pretzel," you sass. laughing once she tries to tickle you but you dodge out of the way.
"babe, it's not fair! you got me!"
"you were in the way!"
"nuh uh."
"nuh huh!"
emily lets out a long sigh, frowning at your phone screen. "my girlfriend literally hates me right now guys," she says.
"do not. now be quiet and help me finish making this pizza. it's getting late." emily listens to you, finally taking the cooking seriously.
it takes way quicker now to finish up making the pizza that emily is acting like she got some sense. finally, emily moves away from the island so that she can slide the pizza in the oven while you talk to the live.
"alright guys, we are about to go lay on the couch and wait for this pizza to cook. emily has drained all of the energy out of me so i'm ending the live here. love you guys! thanks for paying attention to emily's annoying ass and me." emily is able to get in a wave before you cut off the live. shaking your head as you turn to face her. leaning against the kitchen island.
"what is it, baby?" she comes close, grabbing onto your hips.
"you're sleeping on the couch tonight," you say. leaning away once she tries to kiss you. easily getting out of her grasp this time, starting to walk over to the living room. emily still stands in the kitchen with her arms now crossed across her chest.
"and you can stop doing that crossing your arms across your chest shit! it doesn't work, baby," you shout, looking over your shoulder at her.
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author notes: this was actually mad fun to write 💪🏽💪🏽 hopefully you liked it because i put some effort into it.
© THINKINGABOUTJAEDYN
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keerysfreckles · 20 hours
Text
newsies — MV1 (smau)
pairing: max verstappen x musical theater fem!reader faceclaim; kara lindsay !
summary: when lando drags max to his favorite musical, max takes a liking to the leading lady
warnings: none!
a/n: this is 100% made for me, i can't shut up abt newsies or jeremy jordan... sooo why not combine my two loves (newsies and f1 😁)
masterlist !
⋆ ˚ 。 ⋆ ୨୧ ˚
yourusername just posted !
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liked by jeremymjordan, landonorris and 11,037 others
yourusername NEWSIES OPENS ON BROADWAY IN ONE WEEK WHAT IS LIFE
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user1 tickets have been secured since last year IM SO EXCITED
user2 oh to get a hug from jeremy jordan 😞
jeremymjordan IM EXCITED ARE YOU EXCITED
yourusername I CAN'T SIT STILL JERE
user3 "jere" they're too cute 😭😭
mikefaist guess who has a front row seat 😁
yourusername MIKEEE 🥹🥹
user4 OH MY GOD ITS HAPPENING OKAY EVERYBODY STAY CALM
user5 oh i've been waiting YEARS to see y/n in a broadway musical
landonorris missing fp1 to be there 🫡
yourusername lando no that's your job??
landonorris not that important 🤷‍♂️ plus there's someone i want you to meet
user6 someone to meet?? another driver??
yourusername just posted !
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liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 19,728 others
yourusername opening night, race weekend, and max picking me up from rehearsals! (eventful week if you ask me)
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user1 ABSOLUTELY LOVED THE SHOW!!!!!!!!
user2 y/n and jeremy being the power duo on stage IKTR!!
user3 lando looks like he's hating the rain 😭
user4 WAIT PAUSE WHATS MAX DOING THERE
user5 PICKING HER UP TOO??????
landonorris your fault i dnf'd ☹️
yourusername not my fault it was raining??
user6 WAIT WHAT IF MAX WAS THE ONE LANDO BROUGHT WITH HIM TO OPENING NIGHT
user7 oh your onto something
maxverstappen1 still can't believe you know how to tap dance AND sing at the same time
yourusername i'd say it's harder to be on broadway than it is being an f1 driver
maxverstappen1 no need to go around lying on social media sweetheart
twitter !
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yourusername just posted !
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liked by landonorris, jeremymjordan and 20,188 others
yourusername spent my time off with this guy, anyone know who he is?
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user1 he's so pookie ugh
jeremymjordan come back to new york ben and mike won't shut up about you (i guess i miss you too)
yourusername only if max can come too
user2 the duo i didn't know i needed
user3 okay but what's max's favorite newsies song 👀
maxverstappen1 i think he's a formula one driver, could be mistaken
yourusername thanks for clearing that up!
user4 max slowly becoming all of y/n's feed is so entertaining
user5 y/n and max the unexpected duo i didn't know i needed
landonorris you didn't hang out with me 😔😔😔
yourusername sorry max is just better company???
twitter !
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yourusername just posted !
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yourusername when f1 update accounts expose you and your boyfriend 😞😞
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user1 SO IT WAS THEM??????
user2 PLS THE CAPTION SHE'S TOO FUNNY
maxverstappen1 the secret was coming out sooner or later love
yourusername i know but now we can't soft launch ☹️☹️
user3 THE CUTEST COUPLE ON THE GRID
landonorris call me cupid 😏
yourusername no
maxverstappen1 no
user4 NEW BF MAX CONTENT IM SO READY
jeremymjordan proud to say i knew before twitter did 😁
maxverstappen1 just posted !
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maxverstappen1 dating y/n means listening to the newsies soundtrack on repeat ❤️
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user1 THE MIDDLE SLIDE THEYRE TOO CUTE
user2 this had to mean max has a fav newsies song omg
jeremymjordan take care of her please
maxverstappen1 never plan on stopping
user3 y/n's bway bf 🤝 y/n's real bf
landonorris CALL. ME. CUPID.
maxverstappen1 still no
user4 THEY'RE MY EVERYTHING OMG
yourusername i don't think you can have your phone out in the theater sir 🤨🤨
yousuername but seriously you love the newsies soundtrack
maxverstappen1 i never said that
yourusername so what do you go to all the shows for??
maxverstappen1 my beautiful talented stunning girlfriend of course 😉
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chaosandmarigolds · 3 days
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More Mafia(Mob??) leaders!daughter and Simon :p pt 2
(I don’t know manhattan, I’m making stuff up.)
“Okay, so,” you hold out your phone to the man, having pulled up the menu to one of your favorite restaurants, “Just double checking- this place can do gf, df, vegan, egg free, soy free, and what else um…” your faltering gave you enough time to look up to see his expression, still wearing that mask but you didn’t mind all that much. However you could see his eyebrows furrowed.
“You don’t have any allergies do you?”
“No.” Simon replied gruffly, taking a quick look behind his shoulder to Ivon- who trailed a good ten or so feet behind.
“Okay…cool! I just didn’t wanna take you somewhere and then you can’t eat anything because that sucks,” You shrug it off as you walk, the sun beginning to set but for the most part it was still light out, “So…Simon, do you have any pets?”
His attention is drawn back to you at the attempt of small talk, voice luring but riddled with a nonchalant smile, a genuine question rather than a groaning force in order to be polite. “One. Sheppard, he’s t’ree.”
That had triggered a whole ramble, you going on about how your childhood pet was a German shepherd who you had named Maddie. And that conversation had lingered until you both were still sitting happily at the table within the plush walls of the restaurant, sipping some wine that held more worth than the name Lieutenant Simon Riley.
All the same, as you both waited for your appetizers to come the words had died down and he thought it best to speak. “So what do you do?”
You blink a few times, bringing the glass to your lips as you wait for him to elaborate.
“For work?”
To that you nod, sipping the wine as you set it down, “My father-okay, well yeah I know, Nepo baby and all that, I should preface this by saying I’m so so super thankful for everything I’ve ever been given, and yeah,” you pause to breathe, it was a spiel you gave to anyone you just met, and normally they wouldn’t believe you, but you meant the words. “I-I know you’re just like ‘yeah sure’ but I am, I am. Anyway, my father- I dunno, he’s like a loan shark or something. He runs-well you know those MDR credit unions? Yeah, that’s my dad’s business, and I’m HR.”
There was a pause and you breathe again, dipping your gaze low to bring the wine over to you, “Anyway…yeah, aside from the flower shop, what do you do?”
Simon had listened to it all with a shaker full of a salt, either you were oblivious to the situation of your family name or you were a good lair- he thought it to be the former. “Working out.”
“I can tell.”
His eyes quickly flashed up from the porcelain  plate to you, and only for you to quickly direct your gaze elsewhere. Instead of leaving it, he laughed and then nodded, “Thank you.”
“Mmhm, you’re welcome.“ your words were muffled and you keep your eyes anywhere but his face, “so um…you ever been to the art museum?”
Simon gives you a look, “The one of seventh?”
A nod.
“Isn’t it closed?”
To those words you smile, “Not if your father is the number one donator.”
(Annnnd!!! That’s all I got for right now. Toodles!)
Tag list: @blackhawkfanatic
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wtfsteveharrington · 3 days
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c l o s e t o y o u | carmen berzatto x reader
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we've got so much history baby
description: set months after your breakup, you and carmen navigate what it means to be separated. you're trying to move on but waves always return to the ocean.
warnings: kinda angsty but also hurt/comfort. mutual pining even tho you're both trying to pretend it isn't there. miscommunication. kinda mentions of cheating if you squint but not really. no one has cheated but what to call this vibe irdk so! also mentions of using the bathroom if that bothers you!! it's quick!
smut warnings: oral/fingering reader receiving, spanking, dirty talk, hints of dom!carmy, unprotected sex but backshots for 'safety', sexting, semi public sex, lots of hickies/bruises talk bc carmy's a lil shit, multiple mentions of masturbation for both, reader has a drunk bar make out phase post breakup. reader is afab but no major descriptors used.
word count: almost 9.2k. the longest thing i've written so far!
a/n: dare i say this might be my favorite thing i've written possibly. aiming to make this a three part series but possibly could go longer.... i hope you enjoy <3
maybe you and i were meant to be / maybe i'm crazy
‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊
Carmen’s eyes are trained on you from the second your front door opens. His hands stalled halfway through taking off his jacket, only one shoe clattering across your entryway. 
“Where’ve you been tonight?” 
Which you have no choice but to shoot him a warning glance in response. It was late, you didn’t have the energy for a fight and that’s the complete opposite reason of why you texted him to come over. “I was on a date, Carmen.” 
He physically deflated at your answer. “Oh.”
You can’t meet his eye, can’t risk seeing his reaction. Would he be upset? Indifferent? It’s hard to decide which would be worse.
When you had broken up a few months ago the roles were clear - A case of ‘right person, wrong time’. He was busy, so endlessly busy. Working late into the night and heading in randomly during the morning or afternoon if he was needed. Which he could easily decide he was.
For as long as you could remember Carmen always took Tuesdays off to spend with you and get life in order. That way he had Monday to help the restaurant recover from the weekend and could trust them to handle what was, usually, an easier day. It was a tradition you took seriously and the two of you regularly made plans together every single Tuesday. Date nights, day trips, a mixture of adventures. It didn't matter what you were doing together so long as you had Tuesday to look forward to and help get you through the week.
Yet things started picking up. More celebrity dining requests, more magazine and tv interviews, more, more, more.
And it wasn’t that you misunderstood how important the restaurant was. Far from it. There were many nights where Carmen would come home a ball of anxiety because it took an hour longer than he anticipated and he knew it wasn’t fair to you. There would be a mess of apologies as he barreled in the door, bracing himself for a fight or to see your disappointed face. All of which you happily soothed by repeating constant mantras - The restaurant was his baby; you weren’t upset; take a deep breath; we’re okay. 
Then eventually you stopped saying you weren’t upset, stopped saying you two were okay. Eventually you stopped waiting up for him at all. At first Carmen would shower and climb into bed, confused if he should attempt to hold you or not. Your sleeping (Fine, sometimes you faked being asleep too) frame with your back turned to him. The blankets pulled tight around your body acting like a shield. 
Finally he just started sleeping on the couch. 
So yeah, the fall apart came quick. It was an avalanche neither of you could control nor did either of you want. There was still love between the two of you - But again it’s the right person, wrong time. 
You avoided each other for the following weeks. Carmen threw himself even more into work and you took a week of PTO to go visit one of your friends. He wondered if you were safe, you wondered why none of the people in the bar tasted the way he did. Your friend encouraged you with every sloppy make out conquest but it always ended there. You wanted to get Carmen out of your mind but weren’t ready for him to not be the last person who fully touched you. 
It didn’t work but does it ever?
Carmen watched your Insta far more than he should have. Risking way too many glances down at his phone during his free time to see if there were any updates about how you were doing. As if you’d post photos with long captions that mimicked a therapy session but he didn’t know where else to go. Sydney would report back what your story shows no matter how much Carm insisted he didn’t care. 
Because he didn’t, okay? He was fine. He knew it was for the best. Right? 
And then you posted a photo of yourself in a low cut top laughing in a bookstore. He zoomed in to see what titles you had in your arms as if they were clues and his eyes definitely didn’t linger on the swell of your cleavage. He didn’t think about how many nights he took for granted watching as your back arched up under him and you begged for more. He didn’t think about the way you’d crawl into bed at night and his mind would instantly rid itself of anything but you. He didn’t jack off to memories of you in the shower every morning because thinking about someone else, watching porn of other people, it didn’t feel wrong. No, that wasn’t the case at all. 
You, on the other hand, turned on Google alerts for anything relating to The Bear or Carmen “Carmy” Berzatto. Most of it was just good Yelp! ratings or fluff pieces from the local papers. He wasn’t one for posting on social media, in fact you weren’t sure he used it at all but you still posted like he was, but sometimes you’d find yourself scrolling through Sydney’s feed to see if she was giving you any crumbs. Sometimes, if you were really desperate, you’d find yourself in Richie’s feed even. It was pathetic but you can’t help it. 
One late night you came across an Instagram story post Sydney had up. Carmen leaning against a pinball machine at some gaming bar downtown. His hair was pushed back, eyes crinkled up with laughter. He looked at ease, peaceful. You wondered if anyone there felt the same… Was someone whispering to their friends and trying to build the encouragement up to go talk to him? Would he respond? 
Right, it wasn’t your place to care anymore. Yet you still cried yourself to sleep and yearned for when things felt so much easier. 
Yeah, the breakup wasn’t exactly going well. 
A few weeks ago you came across Carmen at the grocery store of all places. Both of you had gotten so used to doing the shopping Tuesday mornings and, logically, you were both comfortable going to the location just like you had been weekly for months. Your breath caught in your throat and God he looked better than you remembered. The first thing out of his mouth was, “Great sale on gouda this week.” And the only thing your brain could conjure up was, “Well that’s gouda.”
You both stayed silent for a moment before bursting out in laughter. 
Laughter turned to getting lunch around the corner. 
Lunch turned into you straddling Carmen’s waist in the car while parked in the very back corner of the parking lot and riding him until your eyes watered and you couldn’t focus long enough to keep a rhythm. He wrapped his arms, such strong arms, around your waist and fucked up into you for all that he was worth. Trying to prove himself in whatever capacity you allowed. 
If he couldn’t love you like he wanted, he could at least fuck you better than anyone else would.
Once you two broke the seal of seeing each other it was hard to stop. There was almost a forbidden aspect to your relationship now that caused a small thrill to run down your spine every time you saw him late at night. You were pretty sure no one knew you started… Seeing each other again and you were both content keeping it a secret. 
So that’s how you ended up here. Standing across from him at 11 o’clock at night on a random Wednesday. You try not to wonder if he left ‘early’ the second you reached out, instead convincing yourself that it just so happened to work out he was ready to go within minutes of you sending your ‘My place tonight?’ text during this horrific blind date your co-worker set up. 
Jonathan, 6’1, finance major turned CPA for his family’s company. He was… Fine. Just fine. You left on good terms in case you wanted to call on him for back up one lonely night. The problem was no one else was Carmen no matter how hard you tried to look for him in the people that passed by.
And there he stood across from you with hair falling into his face and his eyes looking up at you like you’re crafted from Heaven. A skirt, thin tinted tights, a shirt that exposed just enough skin but not too much. The soft shimmer across your eyelids and glossy lips from the lip balm you’ve been continuously applying since you knew he was on the way. The last time he saw you like this was when you were fighting because Carmen accidentally showed up 15 minutes past when you were supposed to leave for a birthday party at your friend’s house and that night ended with you locking him out of the bedroom while he had to pretend he couldn’t hear you crying in the next room. He really didn’t mean to be late. Sometimes the nights just got taken away from him. 
Carmen hated that you were dressed up for someone else but he pretends you just threw this on for him.
Your arms cross your chest, totally not attempting to push up your breasts, and you let out a sigh while you stare at Carmen. “This has to be the last time.” His face is stoic, a perfect poker face. The last time? Break up or not he couldn’t imagine there being a last time he saw you. Half the time he forgets, still referring to you as his partner while brushing it off and refusing to correct himself. Then there’s times where he comes home to his empty apartment and realizes you weren’t there to light the long forgotten candles on the coffee table or open up the windows to air the place out. 
He closes the space between the two of you and stares at your face. Searching for answers he’s too scared to ask for. Your resolve is breaking, cracking under the weight of having him so close. Beautiful eyes staring at you, the way he smells like the cologne you bought for your last anniversary and clean laundry. If you weren’t so drunk on the sight of him you would have put it together that Carmen kept clean clothes at the Bear to make sure he could change before he came to see you. 
You’re both silent for a moment before there’s two hands wrapping around either side of your neck and Carmen’s dragging you two together for a kiss. God, he couldn’t stand the idea of someone else kissing you. Would they even do it right? Do they know the way you moan when he licks into your mouth or the way you always grab ahold of his wrists when he cups your face? Do they know the way you forget to breathe sometimes when you’re lost in it? He’d have to pull back in order to give you a second to gasp in a rush of air. Does whoever you were with tonight know any of that? 
You pull away from Carmen with a broken out moan, silva connecting your mouths and the faint taste of cigarettes on your tongue from him. Clamping your hands on his shoulders you just faintly push the two of you apart, trying desperately to collect your thoughts. Carmen crying during the break up, sobbing in your bed, living on autopilot for weeks, the way he kisses you like he’s scared it’s the last time anymore because it very well just might be. Everything coming back to you in flashes as he stands before you once again. 
“I called you here for a reason, Carm.” His eyebrow is cocked, eyes flickering down to the bulge in his jeans that started growing the second he kissed you. “Uh - Yeah? Isn’t that what… I thought that’s what we were doing?” Carmen’s leaning in again, letting his lips connect to your neck. Warm kisses being pressed in a path up to just below your ear. “No uh, oh, remember how you let me keep the cast iron?” He hums in response, teeth nipping at your earlobe while broad hands start grabbing at your waist. “Yeah, uh huh, the cast iron skillet.” Fuck the stupid cast iron. He’s much more concerned with hooking fingers in the waistband of your skirt, attempting to pull it down while you’re fighting to stay focused. 
“Well my friends came over the other night and oh Jesus.” He’s licking a strip up your neck now, only half focused on your story. “Carm, please, they were helping me clean up and someone left it soaking in hot water overnight.” That’s finally got him freezing in place, his aroused little sounds quickly turning into a groan of annoyance. “Fuck. That ruined-… I mean, the seasoning has to be ruined. Assuming it rusted?” You nod helpless, fingers dragging along his chest while Carmen stares over your shoulder.
His eye twitches involuntarily. 
There’s a deep sigh coming from his body as he steps around you, finally kicking off his long forgotten second shoe before walking further into the apartment to head towards the kitchen. 
And listen, it wasn’t that you were necessarily concerned so much with the pan. Sure the two of you had purchased it together during the first few weeks of talking. Carmen cooked breakfast with it every Tuesday morning and showed you how to care for this damn pan. It was the closest you two came to owning a pet just… In the form of a nine inch cast iron skillet. You were more curious if he would care. A simple way of testing the waters to see if he just cared about getting laid or still cared about you. The answer should have been obvious but you still had to know.
You follow behind him and wince at the stream of expletives that easily fall from his tongue at the sight of the pan in the sink. It wasn’t horrible but wasn’t ideal. “Y’know, crazy thing is I’m pretty sure I can guess who did this. They kept trying to convince me cast iron wasn’t any different from a standard pan no matter how many times I tried convincing them that just wasn’t the case.” He’s grumbling to himself while crouching down to fish out supplies from under the sink, easily navigating your apartment from memory. The two of you had bounced between your places and talked about moving in together once his lease was up. Going as far as touring a few locations but the conversation was long forgotten once the tensions started building. 
As much as Carmen claims he didn’t see it coming, he resigned his lease almost two weeks before the break up officially happened. 
You hop up onto the counter next to the sink and watch as Carmen gets to work restoring your pan. “Think it's gonna make it through? I can't believe this is how it might end for the poor thing. All because I wanted to make your chicken piccata.” A few of his recipes had stuck with you and sometimes you find yourself making them when you’re missing him extra at night. 
“Nah, it’ll be fine. Just some surface damage s’all.” You watch as the muscles in Carmen’s arm move with the scrubbing motion, your lips itching to kiss over every exposed tattoo. Snap out of it! This is just sex between two consenting adults trying to let off some steam. That’s all. You’re both just comfortable and it would take way too much effort for someone random like Jonathan to learn what you like. 
Carmen catches you staring at him, not that you were being subtle about it, and feels heat blooming in his chest. He grabs one of your kitchen towels and gives the skillet a good pat down before sitting it upside down to dry off. It’s not perfect, not yet at least, but he’s pretty sure he’ll explode if it takes any longer to finally get his hands on you. 
“You look pretty tonight.” He’s coming to stand between your knees, reaching up to you with the hem of your skirt as you hum out a small “Thank you.” It seems like every time you see him lately you forget just how blue his eyes are. So easy to get lost in them especially from this close. Your hands come up to gently trace the features of his face. Just the ghost of a touch but Carmen’s soaking up the affection. He tilts his head in order to press a kiss to your palm. 
His hands are dragging up your thighs, feeling the material of your tights under his touch. “Know how much you hate wearing these.” Your heartbeat is picking up so much it’s making you jittery, hands wrapping around the edge of the countertop to grip it as hard as you can. Keeping yourself steady. “Help me take ‘em off?” You arch your hips up off the counter as an invitation for Carmen. He’s wasting no time grabbing ahold of the waistband and dragging them down your body, groaning to himself as inch by inch your skin gets exposed to him. 
Neither of you miss the way you press your thighs together once they’re freed, hips twitching in anticipation. The tights are getting tossed across your apartment and left to be tomorrow’s problem. Carmen falls to his knees in front of you, letting them dig into the harsh tile of your kitchen while in pursuit of making his mark on you. He’s grabbing ahold of your ankles, bringing one of your legs over his shoulder while the other is brought up to his lips. 
Your eyes fall closed as Carmen starts trailing a string of delicate kisses along the length of your calf. His lips ghosting across your knee until he reaches the fleshy part of your thigh. While your hands finally escape the countertop and find their way laced into Carmen’s hair, he wraps his lips down against your thigh to start sucking a small bruise into your skin. “Carmy,” You hiss out, “What if I see Jonathan again? How am I gonna explain these?” But you’re not pulling his head away, instead doing quite the opposite by keeping his head in place. 
Carmen practically growls against your skin, a low and guttural sound coming from the man. His grip on you tights while he mumbles against you, “Fuck Jonathan.” You scrub your fingers against his scalp as Carmen finds another patch of skin on the opposite thigh to begin sucking a bruise into. His head ducking lower and lower under your skirt, the material finally getting you to pull your hands away from him.
Against all better judgment your thighs fall more open as he works his way down your thighs. There’s a series of small moans and whimpers coming out of you with no control as he reaches the top of your thigh, his nose dragging along the cloth covering your core. “D’you wear these for him? Or did you put them on knowing you’d end up texting me.” It’s impossible to answer when you feel his tongue drag along you, your hips rocking up towards his mouth. He’s bringing his hands up under your skirt now too and grabbing handfuls of where your thighs meet your hips to hold you down in place. 
“They’re purple, aren’t they?” A color Carmen had long ago decided he liked best on you. Something about the way the color compliments your skin… In all honesty, you were pretty sure he had purchased the exact pair you were wearing. You started the night with no intention of your date getting anywhere near your bed but instead being under the frame of the man who was exactly where you wanted him. 
He guides you to scoot you closer towards the edge of the counter, making sure you’re comfortable before mouthing over you once again. Hot, open mouth kisses being pressed almost exactly where you need them. One of his hands comes around your frame to grab a handful of the fleshy part of your ass while the other hooks a finger into your underwear, pulling the material to the side to expose you. 
There’s cool air being blown against your overheated body and your hands fly back to clutch at his back, his neck, the hair that’s exposed from under your skirt. Whatever inch of him you can find is being clung to like a lifeboat. He’s kissing the skin where your thigh meets your center, lips ghosting along the outer side of your folds. It only takes a few more pathetic whimpers before he finally takes pity on you and you feel his tongue go flat at the base of your hole, dragging up long and slow all the way to your clit. 
He groans into your core and the vibrations make you start to lose your mind. “Fuck. Fuck!” Carmen’s got your clit between his lips now, bobbing his head just slightly while he goes right to sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves. If you didn’t want to be teased then he’d give you everything you wanted. One of his hands comes up under his chin now, a finger pressing into your tight entrance as his tongue works to lap at your clit, your folds, even dipping into you whenever his finger pulls all the way out.
A second finger slides into you while his attention focuses back to making out with your clit. You can’t keep track of the way he alternates between kissing and licking at you while his fingers push in as deep as he can get them. “So good, Baby.” Baby. It comes out of you by force of habit and it makes him twitch in his boxes. If you weren’t so drunk on him you probably would have started overthinking but he’s making sure your focus is on nothing else but his mouth for now. Carmen’s chin is slick with everything you’re giving him as he eats you out as if he’s a dying man and this is his last source of solace in the world.
“C’mon Honey.” He’s cooing against you, fingers crooked just how he knows you like it. There’s sloppy licks being delivered to your clit as his fingers pump in and out. His hand finally leaves it’s grip on your ass to apply a gentle pressure to the top of your mound, pressing down against the flesh to add yet another sensation. “Can feel how tight you’re getting. You wanna come for me so bad, don’t you? Be good for me.” 
Your hands fist around Carmen’s hair, hips rocking up against him and it doesn’t take long for an orgasm to wash over your body. You seize up at the feeling, thighs clamping around Carmen’s head as he licks you through it. He’s only giving you a moment to recover when you feel his fingers slide out of your sensitive body and he can’t help but go back to licking out the mess you’ve made.
“Gonna fuckin’ kill me, Carmen.”
He’s smirking against you but taking the hint. Your thighs shaking as he pulls back from under your skirt, taking a moment to appreciate the handiwork that was the bruises covering your thighs while you take a moment to recover. The way your pussy looks so pretty covered in the mixture of your arousal and his spit. Carmen can’t help himself but to swirl his thumb around your clit, your hips jolting up as you reach out to grab ahold of his wrist. “Need a minute please.” 
Carmen nods and stands up, wasting no time making work of unbuckling his belt. You collect your thoughts well enough to start unbuttoning his jeans for him, letting your fingers linger on his jean clad hardened length. “You, uh -” You won’t meet his eye, opting instead to start pulling his pants down his toned thighs. “You still okay not using a condom?” A roundabout way of saying ‘I’m clean, are you?’. Carmen nods as if it’s the most insane question in the world. Even if he’s not with you anymore, it’s still only you for him for as long as he can see coming. “No one but you.”
You can’t meet his eye, a wave of guilt washing over you concerning your earlier date with Jonanthan that quickly gets pushed away when Carmy grabs ahold of your jaw and brings you in for a haphazard kiss. Mindless, heavenly kissing. The two of you getting lost in the way your tongues know just how to navigate one another while your hand slides into his boxes and begins lazily 
“Gotta fuck you or I’m gonna cum on your hand like a fuckin’ teenager.” You giggle into his mouth but slide yourself off the counter nonetheless. Giving him one more tender kiss before turning around to bend yourself over the counter. It’s not the most gracious process but you’re tugging your shirt over your head on the way down, pitching it somewhere else to deal with later. 
He’s looking at every inch of you. Underwear still pulled to the side, the way the lace of your bra looks against your back. Memorizing every detail he possibly can just in case you wise up and stop letting him come over to defile you like this at night. 
Carmen is dragging the head of his cock through your folds, tapping it against your clit while you whine and rut back against him. The weight of his jeans and belt resting heavy against his ankles and keeping him grounded enough to not spill his load before he even makes it inside of you. You weren’t used to taking him all the time anymore, a thought Carmen can’t dwell on, so he goes inch by inch and gives you time to adjust to the girth of him. He was thicker than anyone you’d been with before and every random hookup together lately reminds you of the first time you felt him stretch you out. 
It burns in the best way possible and he’s so tender while you get adjusted. Waiting until you start fucking yourself against his length to take that as his sign you were finally ready for him. Carmen still starts slow, a teasing pace of pulling himself nearly all the way out before sinking right back in. “Pussy’s like heaven.” It makes you oddly proud to hear him call that out. To know you still have an affect on him after all this time.
“Think about fuckin’ you all the time.” He’s picking up speed now, “Think about how good you feel stretched around me. Such a good slut for me, aren’t you? Bending over and practically begging for it.” His words, once again, make your head spin. It was a common theme with Carmen. Your fingers lace in your own hair, desperate to grab ahold of something. “Always wanting you to fuck me, Carm. Dream about how good you make me feel.” Like you two were meant to fit together perfectly. 
There’s a lewd clapping noise coming from the way your ass smacks against his frame with each deep thrust. Eventually your arms give out, torso falling flat against the shockingly still cool countertop while Carmen fucks into you for all he’s worth. A firm slap is being delivered to your ass that causes you to yelp out, rolling your hips back against him at the same time as an act of encouragement. 
His mind is taken up with how good you feel. You’re perfectly stretched around him and leaking out around his base. So wet, so beautiful, so perfect. There’s a hand sliding up your back until it’s fisting around your hair, gently tugging at it and the new sensation has these pornstar worthy moans escaping you. Your loud and needy brain is completely empty as Carmen destroys you the way he knows how. 
“D’you think about me fucking you while you were sitting across from some asshole all night? Poor little pussy almost got fucked by someone who doesn’t know how to treat it.” His words are so casually spoken with just the right amount of bite that it’s causing your brain to melt. Jonathan didn’t stand a chance of getting within two feet of your panties, just another mindless date in your series of attempted ways to ‘get over Carmen’ which clearly wasn’t going well. He bottoms out in you, every inch of his length pressed as firmly as he can into your core. It’s so much, so full and he’s got you pinned in place. Unable to do anything but be used by him, just how you both know you love to be. “Or did you go just to make me jealous? Put on your slutty little panties and went to dinner knowing you’d text me to come fuck you tonight.” 
He’s grinding his hips into you on the impossible quest to get even deeper. It’s possessive, claiming, and you’d probably even be a little annoyed by his behavior if you were in a better state of mind. For now you’re bent over the counter with bruises blooming all over your thighs and enjoying an odd jealous streak coming from someone who, technically, has no right to be jealous. It’s making you feel dizzy and your heart throb and your pussy clenching around him. “You gonna keep talking or you gonna fuck me, Carm? ‘Cause if not I’ll call him to finish the job.” 
You liked riling him up. 
Another sharp smack is being dealt to your ass when Carmen starts to pick the pace back up. His hands are tight on your hips and his pace is brutal. There’s grunts coming from behind you that are making your head spin and if you were more coherent you’d be a bit more embarrassed about the drool sliding from the corner of your mouth as your boyfrie-….. Well, as Carmen takes care of you. He’s admiring the bloom of his handprint on your skin, brushing his hand along it before pressing firmly down to help soothe the buzzing sting of pain. 
He wasn’t fucking you as often, didn’t have you nearly as well trained anymore. These bi-weekly meetings are not doing nearly enough for your body. He used to be able to fuck you right through an orgasm and you’d keep going. So used to him working your oversensitive clit to his liking. Now you whine while grabbing his wrist and whimper out pleas for him to give you a few minutes. He hates not knowing your body as well as he used to even if he still knows you pretty damn well.
So when he feels you getting closer, he’s taking note. Keeping his pace exactly the same and letting his hand crash down against the tender flesh of your ass again. “You gonna give me another? C’mon, Honey. Can feel how bad you need it.” And you do. God you need every orgasm you’re lucky enough to get from him. 
Your hips buck and twitch and you let out a series of uncontrolled moans as your orgasm starts to wash over your body. If Carmen wasn’t between your legs then your thighs would have snapped shut while your toes curled and your heart started beating faster. You could practically hear it beating in your own ears. “S’good, so good. Thank you, thank you. Shit, thank you.” A mess but you couldn’t judge yourself. 
Carmen’s pulling out when he’s close after just a few more strokes, frantically jerking off his length to keep the sensation going. You’re rolling your hips back and riding out the waves of your own orgasm, glancing back over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of Carmen with his head tossed back and brows knitted together in concentration. “Come on me, Baby. Wanna feel every drip on my skin. Maybe I’ll let you take a picture of it dripping down all the pretty bruises you gave me.” 
That’s all it takes for him to come undone. Warm spurts of cum landing along your back, your thighs, some of it dripping down your folds. The feeling is pulling wanton moans from your mouth that send Carmen into orbit. God, he doesn’t want to come back down to Earth. Collecting his breath and trying to keep himself upright while the aftershocks of his orgasm wrack through his body. How was he supposed to stay away from you when it felt like this? Especially when you just kept calling him baby.
He stopped cumming inside of you since the breakup. It made sense, kinda. But you hated it. Felt like a waste even though you wouldn’t overstep and ask for him to go back to finishing inside of you. He would, by the way. Without a second thought he’d bury himself in until he couldn’t go any further and fuck his cum into you as deep as possible. 
You feel a finger swiping up some of his cum off your backside and soon enough it’s pressed to your lips. Without a second thought you take the digit into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it while licking him clean. He wants some of it inside of you one way or another. A subtle way of still putting his claim on you.
The two of you take a moment to recover after Carmen pops his finger out of your mouth. His hands are running a circuit up and down the side of your thighs and torso, still enjoying the view of your body relaxed against the counter in front of him. The tile was starting to become painful as your stomach bent over it but you couldn’t bring yourself to move just yet. You didn’t fully trust your legs to support your weight without the counter for support. 
Carmen’s rustling around behind you now. Reaching down to pull up just his boxes but kick his jeans the rest of the way off finally. He’s not ready for the stimulation of such a heavy material against his sensitive skin yet. There’s a clattering from the sink area as he retrieves another towel to get wet for you and a cup to fill with water. Your eyes feel heavy. Mind’s at ease having Carmen around again, not that you’ll admit it, and your body feeling languid after being fucked so well. 
There’s a glass of water being sat in front of you. “Drink.” So you prop yourself up on your elbows and nurse small sips of the water while the cool rag gets to work wiping down your backside from the mess he made. His fingers ghost along the tender flesh of your ass where he was spanking, “Feeling alright?” You hum into the cup, giving him a small waggle of your behind to reassure any concerns he had. 
He gets you cleaned up in silence, letting the both of you enjoy the simple moment. Carmen always prided himself on taking care of you. There’s warm hands, still damp from cleaning you up, rubbing up the sides of your torso before wrapping around the tops of your shoulders. His hips rub along your backside and you just feel so warm, so safe like this. “We gotta get you to bed.”
You just sigh and scrub your hands over your face. A beat of silence passes while you collect your thoughts. “Carm, I don’t think I can stand up.” Your legs are still slightly shaking and your mind has yet to catch up with your body. 
Laughter’s coming from behind you as he delivers a playful swat to your ass. “C’mon I’ll get you there.” This feels so simple. You find yourself questioning why the two of you even broke up to begin with when the good moments were this good. Easy, content, safe. Would you ever be able to find this again? Would he? 
He’s grabbing ahold of your waist while pulling you back into his chest. Your head falls back against his shoulder and Carmen allows his lips to once again find your exposed neck. A series of gentle kisses being placed as his arms snake tighter around your body. “Still feeling okay?” You let out a content hum and allow yourself to be held by him. “Feel better than I have all week. Thank you, Carm.” You feel him smile against your skin as he places another delicate kiss. “Always.”
The two of you stay intertwined until Carmen starts to encourage the shuffle towards your bedroom. He makes sure you get cleaned up and ready for bed. Brings you one of your sleep shirts while you brush your teeth and tries to not overthink when you offer him a toothbrush of his own because you just so happened to have an extra. Gives you privacy when you complain about needing to pee and you find it odd there’s a tug at your chest when he ducked out of the room. Part of you hated being that couple who left the door open or used the restroom while the other showered, yadda yadda. It was a sign of comfort and the door being pulled shut behind Carmen was a sign that comfort was long gone. 
Not that you cared. Totally didn’t care at all. 
He’s going to just tuck you in at first until you’re clutching at his frame and pulling him into bed next to you. Carmen never could say no when it came to you, especially when he feels his back sinking into your soft bed and your warm body curling up along his side. He should go. Get home before it’s too late and try to get some sleep. He’s already planning on getting to work early to avoid having too much free time to think about tonight in detail. 
But his clothes feel so far away and the long day is starting to finally hit him. You can practically hear him thinking over his options and your breathing starts skipping as you feel him begin to pull away. 
“Carmen.” Your grip on his chest tightens and it pulls directly at his heart. Since this whole… Situation started he never stayed the night when your meetings would run this late. Always picking his clothes up out of piles on the floor and mumbling something about needing to get home to get stuff together from work. You never asked him to stay anyway. Neither of you knew if that would make an already weird and complicated situation even worse. 
But tonight was different. 
There were hints of a storm in the distance you start telling yourself. If you focused you could hear thunder, somewhere, out there and you just wanted Carmen safe for his sake. That’s all. So you pathetically cling to him and hope you don’t kick yourself out of embarrassment in the morning. It takes just a moment of him looking down at you to understand what you can’t say and he’s giving you a little nod in response. His arms wrap around your shoulders, leaning in to press a kiss to the top of your head. Kissing every inch of you had to be one of his greatest pleasures in life.
“Remind me to season that skillet in the morning.” 
‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊
Carmen, shockingly, sleeps through the night. The warmth of your body next to him coupled with your excellent sleeping experience. A comfortable bed with good pillows, a white noise machine in the corner of your room (the ice maker in the fridge at Carmy’s would constantly go off so you got used to sleeping with background noise to cover it up), it was the best night of rest he’s had in months.
Your sheets smell like home. 
He’s slowly waking up now and his first thought is how much he misses the weight of your breast in his hand. Second thought is how much he needs to pee but damn your bed is comfortable. 
Carmen allows his body to wake up slowly. Stretching his arms out above his head and letting out a satisfied grunt at the feeling of his well rested muscles. Blinking his eyes awake just enough to take in the sight of all the trinkets and items that covered your space. There’s some things he notices that he knows for a fact he purchased you. Bottles of perfume, books you keep telling yourself you need to read, cups you constantly forget to bring back into the kitchen until you’re fully out of them.
Did you keep any of the pictures? Photo strips from Navy Pier and the holiday market at Wrigley Field. Everything from the disposable camera you brought along on road trips and vacations. The polaroids that once littered a cork board in your living room that the two of you added pictures to so often. If he looked around enough would he find them tucked away safely in a box or did you pitch them when you knew the two of you were through. 
Carmen still has one. You took most of them while you packed up your things from his place and refused to let him carry any of the boxes downstairs. So stubborn, so full of hurt pride. He just spent most of the day trying to stand out of your way but always available in case you finally admitted that you needed help. Maybe a small part of him hoped that as you packed up so many memories it would trigger a ‘What are we doing?’ reaction and you’d go running into his arms. 
You never did. 
But you did take one trip down to your car with an overstuffed Ikea bag over your shoulder and balancing a box on your hip. Carmen knew he didn’t have long, and it kind of felt like stealing, but he rushed over to the box you just started packing up and rifles through the photos as fast as he possibly could. It took a moment of digging before there it was. A polaroid photo someone took of the two of you on New Year’s Eve. You’re wearing some cheesy headband and he has those tacky sunglasses on that show off the incoming year on them. His arms are wrapped low around your waist as he stands behind you, one of your hands resting on top of his while the other is reaching up and back to cup his jaw. You’re both grinning and laughing in the photos and nothing bad has happened yet. 
He hears you shuffling back up the stairs so he’s quickly throwing the box back together after sliding the photo into his pocket and rushing back to stand in the kitchen. Acting like nothing was happening. You didn’t even look over at him so it wasn’t like he had to put up much of a show anway.
It’s still safely tucked into his wallet. 
The sound of the front door opening and hushed whispers are finally pulling him from his half asleep, reflective state. It looks like this day is getting started if he wants it to or not. He’s tilting his head to press it into the pillow underneath him, allowing one last deep inhale to remind himself exactly what your scent smells like before forcing his body to be pushed out of your bed.
Carmen turns the corner in just his boxer briefs and you’re not convinced you aren’t still dreaming because fuck he looks good. His hair’s a mess from the combination of you playing with it all night and him sleeping so well. One of his hands is scratching low on his hips while he takes in the sight of you in the kitchen. 
Maybe he shouldn’t be so comfortable walking around your apartment half dressed still but God is this relationship situation getting messier since the day since the two of you reconnected.
“Ordered some breakfast from Yolk. Figured you were hungry and I’m sure you have to run off this morning but I uh-…. I just wanted to make sure you were fed.” You nod to yourself. Giving him an out as you start popping open food boxes. There was just over an hour until you had to get to work too so there were multiple excuses possible for this morning to end as early as it needed to. 
In an odd, roundabout, time to head back to therapy kind of way it almost feels like you’re dating your ex. 
“Yeah.” He nods to himself and desperately wishes he had deodorant, cologne, fuck even Axe body spray. Something to make himself smell better or feel more presentable for you. “Richie actually tried installing fuckin’ bidets to the toilets last night. Kept on running his mouth about how prestigious they are and he, obviously, doesn’t know how to install bidets. So the bathrooms are a little-“ He waves his hands through the air.
“Shitty?” 
Second questionable pun you’ve made lately. Pull it together. 
There’s a breathy little laugh coming out, “Yeah, shitty.” Carmen’s peeking over your shoulder as you plate up breakfast, sneaking a piece of bacon from under your arm before pressing a kiss to the top of your ear. “Thank you for ordering this.” 
You nod and try to pretend you didn’t stop breathing having him so close to you under the soft morning light. 
He leaves $60 tucked under a vase on your dining table to cover breakfast. 
————
11:52 am
[DO NOT ANSWER]: Richie put his foot down and we’re stuck getting the bidets 
[DO NOT ANSWER]: If you’re wondering how my day is going 
12:17 pm
Shockingly my day is much less toilet related. I hope it’s going well. 
4:39 pm 
[DO NOT ANSWER]: I know so much about bathrooms now
————
You laugh a little too loud as the alert illuminates your phone. There’s a fond tugging at your heart as the ‘normal’ conversations fills your chat history instead of the short “My place tn” or “I still can’t find my jacket. You have to have it”. Maybe saving him as do not answer seemed too harsh but having his contact show up as a photo of you two cuddled up with the Chicago skyline in the background, an innocent and horrifically cheesy “Baby Boy 💙” contact name modeled after Richie saying you baby him too much one night. Every time it flashed across your screen and Richie saw he gave you guys an endless amount of shit. It became a constant bit that none of you got tired of at the time. 
You were trying to separate yourself from your past with him as much as possible at first but now those lines just keep getting more and more blurred. 
One of your coworkers grabs your attention away from your phone thus leaving Carmen’s message on read. He tries to pretend it doesn’t bother him as he gets to work prepping for tonight’s service. Who wants to talk about bathrooms with their… Fuck buddy? Ex? God that’s still so weird to say. 
‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊
Your mind was haunted by thoughts of Carmen Berzatto all day. 
No matter how many busy tasks you assigned yourself he always seemed to creep back in. You’d look around for him when a joke landed well at work and the group you were with erupted into laughter. Could easily picture his head thrown back as he scrubs over his face in an attempt to muffle the sound. When you were standing alone your mind wandered off to the way he treated you last night. So claiming. Expertly working your body the way only he could after so much time of getting to know it. 
The bed feels so much 
You throw the blanket away from your frame and watch as it bundles up beside you. Is this crazy? It feels crazy. You shake out the nerves, fluffing up your shorts and primping yourself for the photo. It takes one, two, seven pictures to get just the right angle. An image of your thighs against the bedding and your oversized sleep shorts bunched up all the way down your legs. Taking a deep breath you steel your spine and pull up Carmen’s contact.
————
11:28 pm 
Headed to bed 
ONE IMAGE ATTACHED
11:29 pm 
[DO NOT ANSWER]: Fuck.
11:31 pm
Goodnight Carmen <3
2:12 am
[DO NOT ANSWER]: Can’t stop thinking about you 
ONE VIDEO ATTACHED
————
The sun is warm against your skin as it slowly wakes you up. There’s an air purifier rattling in the corner that acts half as white noise while you sleep, half to soak up the smells of Chicago. Sometimes when Carmen’s especially exhausted you have to bring out the big boy and ask your Google home to play sleep sounds to mask him snoring all night. You typically didn’t mind the sound, knowing it’s a sign of just how badly he needed a good night’s rest. 
You’re fishing your phone out of the comforter in a haste to click off the horrific sound of the alarm and your eyes are barely open when you see the alert. A preview image popping up and you can just barely a blurry image of - “Holy fuck!” 
Your free hand flies up to clamp over your mouth as a mix of gasps and ‘no fucking way’ come out of you with zero control. With shaking hands you open up the video, half tempted to pinch yourself with a video of Carmen fills your screen. His hand rubbing over the bulge in his boxers and there’s a mess of shaky breathing coming from behind the phone. You can’t get the volume turned all the way up fast enough and you’re terrified to miss a single sound. 
And there he is. 
Fishing his cock out of his boxers and stroking himself for you. Illuminated by the lamp on his bedside table and his hand over lubricated to mimic how wet you get for him. He’s a mess of filthy moans, bucking hips, are you dreaming? 
The combination of the sun beating in and the way this video is making your body go hot is too much. You’re overheating, kicking the blankets away from you while your hand goes into your shorts on instinct. Toying with your clit even though you don’t have much time to spare as you watch Carmen get off for you.
————
8:04 am
HEART REACTED TO A VIDEO
Mine tonight?
Fuck you sound so good
Wish I would have been there to clean you up
Say my name more next time please
How am I supposed to go to work now 
————
No response. You aren’t surprised, he’s typically busy in the morning. 
So you go along your day and let yourself enjoy the thought of Carmen coming back over tonight to take care of you. You had thought letting him back in was a risky move but things seemed fine so far. Settling into the new version of what normal was going to look like. Maybe things would end up being some version of alright after all. 
A chirp from your phone catches your attention and you’re instantly uninvested in whatever task was at hand. It might be a little pathetic how excited you were but that is besides the point. 
————
10:32 am 
[CARMEN]: Busy tonight
————
Busy tonight? Go fuck yourself Carmen! 
You waited all morning and THAT’S the response you get? Were the multiple texts too much? Did you come off too clingy? Sure he just stayed the night, was two times in one week where he drew the line? 
So you leave him on read and take away the heart from his video. Change his name back to DO NOT ANSWER and instantly feel the urge to get off tonight leaving your body. Replaced by a subtle anger that only he can bring out of you. 
The workday seems to go by so much quicker as you have this internal argument with yourself and mentally pick a battle with Carmen. Maybe you were silly to think things would… What? Go back to the way they were? No, of course not. 
Ugh!
Carmen who, by the way, truly was slammed. Got stuck hosting an event for an old family friend that he barely knew but was convinced it’d be good for business. He’s overwhelmed by work and anxious with his relationship with you. The breakup was horrific. One of the worst things he’s had to experience so far which certainly says a lot. At the very least - It made sense. This though? Sleeping together, fucking when you have shitty dates and he’s your second choice for the night, taking pictures of dumb things he sees during the day because it made him think of you but never actually sending them, it made zero sense.
If only there was something the two of you could do to figure this whole mess out. 
But alas.
You bring home a salad that’s far healthier than anything you’ve eaten all week accompanied by some fresh pressed green juice nonsense you lie to yourself and mentally say is delicious. The boy detox starts now. 
The shower you take that night must last an hour. Every inch of your body gets scrubbed, your face and hair both get a mixture of treatments and masks. You primp and polish yourself up and convince yourself that this is all for you and not so you look better than ever and Carmen will have to regret his stupid and shitty ‘Busy tonight’ text because you were also just like so, so busy and -
Fuck Carmen Berzatto. 
You decide you could go the rest of your life without hearing from him and be just fine. It was his loss. You’re funny, beautiful, and excellent in the bedroom. There’s thousands of people out there dreaming about finding someone like you!
This internal argument keeps going. And you know what’s annoying? The second you fling yourself into bed you realize he left his scent all over your sheets still. It hasn’t gone away - Cologne mixed with Carmen. And you 100% aren’t hunting out the scent nor are you hunting out a reason to stay annoyed with him. Not at all. So you get back out of bed and grab the fabric freshener to spray your sheets back down with, giving it a minute to dry before falling face first into the mattress with an annoyed huff. 
So yeah, fuck him. You hope you never hear from him again and toss your phone on the other side of the bed. Forcing your eyes shut and making your mind go blank because otherwise you’ll stew all night thus continuing this Carmen induced spiral. 
————
1:47 am
[DO NOT ANSWER]: Hey
————
Fuck.
334 notes · View notes
qu1cks1lversb1tch · 3 days
Note
Hi! I just scrolled through your blog and loved your writing, so I decided to make a request! I was wondering if you could write fem!reader x Lucifer where they're kind of just hanging out but R is kind of grumpy and Luci is subtly (but not subtly cause lord knows he's too awkward to be good at hiding things) trying to figure out what it is. R kind of just dismisses him while scrolling on their phone and Lucifer's like "let me try something..." and just slides a snack to R to which she nibbles on and then becomes normal again. Bonus points if she apologizes when she realizes she was being mean without meaning to. Anyway, this got long. If you decide not to write this, I understand. If you do, you are required to drink water and eat a snack too at some point. Love you and your writing! <3
A/N — OOOOOHHHHHHH anon I love you for requesting this 😭💖 thank you so much! It's just a little short, but I wasn't sure what else to add lol
Hangry | Lucifer x Fem!Reader
Warnings: reader being a little mean, Lucifer being loving and understanding
Word Count: 489
Summary: Luci forces you to eat something after you unintentionally snap at him.
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On a couch, in a palace, in hell, there was you. Glorious you. The very one who kept Lucifer sane — his Heavenly best friend turned perfect stepmother to his beloved daughter, which was a more recent (and super awesome) development. 
He could tell just by looking at you that you weren't exactly feeling the best — it was clear by the present frown and the way your brows furrowed every once in a while, as if you were fighting something. 
For a split second, he thought you were sick. But as he placed his hands all over your face, forcing you to look away from your phone screen, he soon realized that you weren't sick.
“Sorry. . .” He mumbled when you set your darkened glare on him.
You rolled your eyes, looking back to your phone. There was important stuff going on. Meetings to be scheduled. You didn't have time for anything else. 
“Did you sleep?” Lucifer questioned not even five minutes later. 
You sighed, irritated, practically growling out your answer. “Yes.” 
“Okay. . . Well how long did you —”
“GOD! Can you give me five fucking minutes to do my job, Lucifer!?”
He was momentarily taken aback by your harsh tone,  but then it was as if a light bulb went off in his head and he stood from where he had previously planted himself in front of you. 
Guilt began to settle in your being as you nestled yourself further in the couch to continue working. You hadn't expected him to leave — just maybe stop hovering like you were going to spontaneously combust and disappear.
You knew he meant well, but you just weren't feeling it. Any of it.
Five minutes later he returned with a plate that had your favorite sandwich and bag of chips on top, snatching your phone out of your hand and replacing it with the plate and a bottle of your favorite drink. 
You growled. “Luci—” 
“Eat.” He demanded, holding your phone out of your reach. 
And you did. That first bite of the sandwich made you realize that you hadn't eaten breakfast. . . Or lunch. . . You felt better immediately, which showed him instantly what the problem had been. 
Once you finished, you sat in silence, trying to figure our what to say. . . It ended up being a ‘thank you’ that was said so low it was almost missed in the quiet room.
“You feel better?” He asked.
“Yeah. . . I'm sorry I snapped at you — I didn't mean to. . .” You trailed off when he grabbed your face in his hands and forced you to look at him. 
“I forgave you the moment you started eating. Before anything, you're my best friend, and we don't need you being hangry.” 
“Wife.” You corrected with a slight smile.
“Even better.” He grinned, placing sweet kisses all over your face — even the tip of your nose. Yeah. . . You were definitely forgiven. 
So long as you remembered to eat and stay hydrated.
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03jyh23 · 2 days
Text
— i haven't kissed you yet today || choi san
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genre: fluff
trigger warnings: none
words: 900
reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.
!minors do not interact!
— hi there! this request was in my inbox for an unholy amount of time. currently, i need some breather from all the angst im working on and i decided to give this request a shot! hope my lovely anon will enjoy this small piece of work!
love, monika. ♡
if you enjoyed this post, i’d be so grateful for a little love – a like, reblog or comment would truly make my day!
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You were lying on your bed, the soft comforter providing a comforting warmth. The setting sunbathed the bedroom in a beautiful golden light. It was a lazy day, with your activities limited to fetching food or using the bathroom while binge-watching your new favorite series. In recent weeks San's schedule become incredibly hectic due to his idol responsibilities, leaving him little time for his boyfriend duties. He had left home early today again, and you were somewhat upset that he hadn't woken you up to say goodbye. Picking up your phone, you contemplated sending a message, but decided against it, not wanting to add to his already overwhelming responsibilities. Instead, you nestled deeper into the comforter. After several hours of continuous watching, even the most interesting series could lose its charm. So, you decided it was time to close your laptop and give your eyes a much-needed rest. You twisted and turned, trying to find that perfect spot. The bedroom was silent, save for the occasional rustling of the sheets. The golden hues of the setting sun had long faded, replaced by the soft glow of the moonlight seeping through the window. 
Awoken by the noise of unlocking doors, you were in a half-asleep, half-awake state. You clung to your comforter, pulling it closer to your body in a futile attempt to stay asleep. Its weight seemed to keep you in your dreams, but reality kept intruding. You heard the rustle of fabric as San removed his jacket, the sound a testament to the long day he must have had. Following that, the muted thud of his bag hitting the floor echoed in the quiet room. A few heartbeats later, the soft patter of his steps grew louder as he approached the bedroom. Soon after, you heard his footsteps getting louder as he came towards the bedroom. The bed dipped slightly under his weight as he slid in beside you. You could feel the warmth radiating from your boyfriend, his scent filled your nostrils, combining his faded cologne and a faint hint of sweat. 
"Baby?" San murmured, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. "Are you awake?" he asked gently, trying not to startle you. Despite your best efforts to remain asleep, the sound of his voice pulled you towards consciousness. You hummed in response, still unwilling to open your eyes. He chuckled softly at your response. "I'm sorry I came home late," he whispered, his voice laced with guilt. 
You shrugged lightly, turning your face to him. "It's okay," you mumbled, your voice muffled by the comforter. "I'm just glad you're home." He smiled in the darkness, pulling you closer. His arms wrapped around you, providing a warmth far better than any comforter. 
San leaned closer, his face just inches from yours. "You know," he said, his playful voice filled with affection, "I haven't kissed you yet today." 
Your heart fluttered at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest. You chuckled softly, looking into his eyes. "Well, we can't have that, can we?" you replied, barely a whisper against the intimate silence. With a gentle, almost shy smile, San closed the small distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a sweet, lingering kiss. It was the kind of kiss that made time seem to slow down, each moment lingering in the sweet love between you. "Better?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. 
"Much better," he replied, his thumb tracing a soft line along your jaw. "But I think I need one more, just to be sure." 
You chuckled softly, your heart swelling with love for the man beside you. "Well, if you insist," you teased, your lips finding his once more. It was just you and San, wrapped up in each other, sharing a perfect moment. It was a reminder of why you loved him so much, and why, despite the hectic schedules, you wouldn't change a thing. 
San pulled you in closer, your head now resting on his chest. You could hear the steady rhythm of his heart beating, a comforting lullaby in the quiet room. He kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering for longer than usual. "Goodnight, baby," he whispered, his voice filled with warmth and affection. As the whisper left his lips, you felt a sense of calm envelope you. The day's stress seemed to melt away with your boyfriend's comforting presence. A soft sigh escaped you, content as you drifted to sleep, nestled securely against him. San's hand gently ran through your hair, the action absent-minded yet filled with affection. It was a simple gesture, one that he probably wasn't even aware of, but it spoke volumes about his feelings for you. It was these moments, the quiet, intimate exchanges when it was just the two of you, that made everything worth it. You knew that no matter how hectic life got, you'd always have these moments to look forward to - the quiet nights spent in each other's arms, the shared laughter and whispered words of love. As you drifted off into a peaceful slumber, you knew that despite the challenges, there was nowhere else you'd rather be. 
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shadow4-1 · 2 days
Text
An Impromptu Punk Concert with Ghost
(What if you and Ghost managed to get into a punk concert last minute?)
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"No."
"Why not?" You whined at Ghost from the passenger seat.
He chose silence, which you knew he knew annoyed you. You pushed at his arm, barely even jostling the limb splayed comfortably over the truck's center console.
"We've got a job to do." He mumbled, eyes ever diligently on the road.
"Yeah, I know! But it's on the way!" You huffed. "Please! I know they're your favorite band too!"
Ghost flexed his arm in a display of annoyance, and you flopped back into the passenger seat dejected. You sighed and looked out of the window at the passing landscape.
You were in the middle of nowhere, passing through little podunk towns without stopping. You'd forgotten that a certain band was touring and had gleefully squealed after cheking the map of your route. Your trip was already going to take two days minimum. What was a couple hour break?
"How're you plannin' on gettin' in?" He asked.
With pure delight, you shot up in your seat and squealed. If Ghost had really meant "no" he wouldn't have brought anything more up about it.
"Oh thank you thank you thank you!" You giggled, leaning over the console and his arm. He eyed you with a sideways glance but made no effort to move. "I've always wanted to see them in concert! This is a once in a lifetime chance!"
Ghost scoffed, but his posture was still entirely relaxed. Try as he might to fool you. You knew he was equally as interested in the concert.
"Oh don't pretend like I don't know your little secret." You teased, letting your body flop back into the passenger seat.
He scoffed once again, but you noticed the slight raise of his brow.
"I've seen those raggedy old t-shirts you were to bed sometimes. They're band shirts."
There was a long beat of silence save for the hum of the truck. You narrowed your eyes at your lieutenant, a smirk forming on your lips.
"...yes..." He sighed.
"I knew it!" You giggled and kicked your legs slightly. "This is gonna be so much fun!"
Ghost's usual worried expression became visible in the set of his brow. For what, you weren't sure. He'd seemed relatively relaxed a second ago.
"What's wrong?" You hummed.
He didn't reply. You knew better than that. You frowned.
"Hey, if something's wrong..." You trailed off, showing your concern by placing a hand on his bicep. "We don't have to go. I just figured-"
"We'll go." Ghost nearly snapped. He'd seemed to realize his sudden change in demeanor and decided to walk it back by clearing his throat. His voice was smoother and gentler than before.
"We'll go. Pull up the address."
"Of course." You tapped his arm before pulling away. You flashed him a sweet smile just to let him know you weren't offended.
After a moment of fumbling with your phone, you pulled up the GPS instructions on how to get to the venue. It was actually a bar, but it didn't really matter. You read up on all the information (including the dress code). You giggled some more, knowing it would catch his attention. Sure enough, he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye.
"Hey. It says here masks are allowed!" You grinned. "And with how big you are you'll blend right in!"
"Mm..." He hummed.
"Okay, well, the GPS says to take a right turn in about half a kilometer..."
-
The moment you got there, you were nearly kicking open the truck's door. It'd been hours since you'd last stretched your legs. Despite the very uneven gravel parking lot, you groaned in relief as you popped every joint in your body.
"You never answered my question." Ghost murmured, walking around to your side of the truck. He'd pulled up the hood of his jacket over his head.
"What question?" You groaned out, loving the way your back burned from a particularly good stretch.
"How're ya plannin' on gettin' in?" He asked.
You stopped stretching for a moment. You glanced up at him with a devilishly bright grin.
"Me?" You laughed. "Oh, girls get in for free. You've gotta figure out you're gonna get in."
Ghost narrowed his eyes at you. "Are you fockin' serious?"
"Mhm!"
You scrambled to get your phone out and unlocked. With a quick flash you showed him the rules of the event. Sure enough it was written out in black and white.
Girls get in for free!
A low growl formed in Ghost's throat. He glared down at you, but he didn't say anything. He looked upwards, breathed in deeply before exhaling slowly. He then looked back down at you.
"Fine." He huffed, turning around and walking towards the building.
"Hey! Wait up!"
It took you a short sprint to catch up with his long-legged stride. You fell in beside him. A warm, zing of excitement swirled around in your chest. The closer you got to the pair of black double doors the more the feeling grew.
Luckily, the line out front was short. They had two bouncers (who were not nearly as large as Ghost) checking the men's tickets. Women were easily bypassing the line, as long as they looked old enough. A woman just beyond the door was haphazardly checking their IDs.
"Here." Ghost grumbled, tugging his hoodie over his head. He threw the garment at you, blinding you for half a second.
When you managed to tug the jacket off of your face, your eyes widened at the uncharacteristic display. Ghost always had on a a jacket, or windbreaker, or long-sleeve. To see him in his soft balaclava, jeans, and a t-shirt felt wrong, too...casual.
You opened your mouth to say something but Ghost had already started walking towards the entrance at a decently fast pace. The appearance of a huge, masked man put everyone on edge. You were pretty sure one of the bouncers went a tad pale.
"Hey man, what are you doing?" The other bouncer asked, bless his heart.
Ghost gave him that look.
"Security." He barked.
And that was that. It seemed none of the bouncers were interested in telling Ghost anything. They simply went back to what they were doing.
You nearly gasped when you forgot you needed to follow him. Thankfully, Ghost'd provided enough of a distraction that you managed to come up behind him and sneak in by his side. You were getting in for free anyway, and it didn't matter if the lady hadn't checked your ID since you weren't going to drink.
The first thing you noticed was that the entire building was stuffy. The difference in the outside temperature versus the inside was intense. You wordlessly offered Ghost back his hoodie but he shook his head. It felt strange getting to see his shorn short blonde hair beneath the dingy lighting. He looked...almost like a different person.
So you didn't lose it, you tied his hoodie around your waist. You had to double knot it to keep the large amount of fabric from falling off your hips. Ghost watched you fuss through half-lidded eyes and made no attempt to help you. You scoffed up at him.
There was no way for him to hear you though. An opening band was already noisily playing on the stage at the back of the building. A decent amount of bodies were already crowded around the pink hued platform. They weren't a very good band in comparison to the lead act, but a few of the notes they hit piqued your interest.
For a moment you watched the stage from where you stood at the back of the venue. Out of the corner of your eye you caught Ghost nervously glancing around. His demeanor was off. You'd never visibly seen him uncomfortable like this.
"You alright?" You asked him, although the sound of your voice was drowned out. Ghost's attention snapped to you immediately but he narrowed his eyes.
"You alright?" You asked him again, voice lough enough to nearly strain. Still, he cocked his head. You huffed with slight frustration before stepping up closer to him. He bent his head down, angling his ear towards your mouth.
"You alright?" You tried even louder. This time he seemingly heard you. He gave you a nod, but you weren't convinced. His eyes were flicking from person to person that milled around the two of you.
"We can go?" You offered.
Ghost shook his head.
He then nudged you towards the bar. You didn't want to go but it was obvious that he needed a drink to withstand the stimulation of the place. You admired his commitment despite the fact he knew this outing would make him uncomfortable from the start.
He ordered two drinks. The bartender looked at you nervously, as if he wanted to card you but seemed to think better of it. Ghost lifted up his mask then swallowed down the first drink in one gulp. He half-heartedly offered you the second one, but when you refused, he downed it too.
You sighed at him but finally took a glance around the place. It was surprisingly nice for being out in the middle of nowhere. The bar went around nearly half of the entire atrium's perimeter. There were a few tables and chairs set up in the back for those wanting to rest their feet. But what really shocked you was the amount of men and women alike dressed in dark clothing.
Girls wore tall platform boots with buckles, latex, and black velvet. The guys wore harnesses and tight shirts with steel toed boots. Countless people donned masks of varying sizes and macabre shapes. The way they looked was eerie...yet beautiful.
You were so caught up in a pretty girl with huge wig and glitter for tears that you didn't realize the actual band was getting set up. Their crew fumbled around on stage, moving equipment and strumming the guitars to tune them. People began to crowd the stage, some squealing with excitement. You crawled up onto an empty barstool and sat in a way that gave you a decent view of the stage. Ghost just stood behind you, leaning up against the bar top.
The headlining band finally came out to a roar of excitement. Girls squealed, men whooped, and people whistled. A large group of guys stomped on the floor which, soon turned into nearly the whole building. The lead singer thanked the crowd for coming out before counting down. They started their first song.
You were so enraptured you almost didn't notice how close Ghost had gotten to you. You felt a warm presence against your back, and when you glanced up you were met with his flighty gaze. You noticed his hand tapping nervously on the bar top. You gestured at him to come closer. He angled his head down again for you to speak.
"Are you sure you're okay?"
He nodded.
"I wanna get closer." You pointed a thumb at the crowd.
He didn't move as his eyes swept across the sea of people.
The band started on their second single. It was one of their most popular songs but part of it was extremely loud and a bit grating. The fast paced drums and screaming guitar echoed hard throughout the venue. The main singer began to scream and you could feel yourself grit your teeth. You loved this band but the acoustics were just a little too good here.
It seemed Ghost was feeling a similar sentiment. He tried to covertly cover an ear with a palm but it didn't seem to help. You could tell something was going wrong. The guitars began to chug. The sound of it made Ghost wince hard.
You tapped on Ghost's shoulder to get his attention. He jumped a little but leaned down, angling his uncovered ear to you. You tugged on his arm, shaking your head.
"C'mon, let's go." You huffed. "You're not having fun."
Ghost shook his head no again but you knew better.
The song evened out into something smoother and less grating. Ghost's shoulders seemed to sag in relief.
"Seriously. Let's go."
"No." He shook his head once more, letting his hand fall away from his ear. "Just gotta get used to it."
"No you don't. Ghost let's-"
He pressed a finger to your lips as the best part of the song began. The lead singer burst into a sultry ballad that immediately grabbed your attention. You grabbed onto Ghost's hand, jerking it away from your face, squeezing his fingers tight in your palm. He shuffled closer, his head hanging next to yours as he listened intently with closed eyes.
The song soon ended with a roar of applause. This time Ghost didn't seem as uncomfortable with the volume. You placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Ghost-"
"'M fine."
Another song started. You looked up at Ghost with concern. He looked away, trying to listen. The drums kicked in and the guitars soon after. The singer began to growl about his worship to his lover.
When you looked up at Ghost again he was staring down intensely at you. You quirked a brow but he didn't say anything. He tugged on your palm that was surprisingly still in his. You jumped off the barstool and began to follow him.
Instead of walking you to the doors he lead you deeper into the crowd of people. A fourth song began to be played. The song was softer than the rest. Once again it was about devotion but also the hunger the lead singer experienced for his lover. The guitars began to chug again. Ghost grimaced but he gestured for you to come closer. He moved your body to stand in front of him. He placed his hands squarely on your hips.
"Ghost-"
Before you could even process what he wanted, he scooped you up onto his shoulders. You gasped in shock as you were hoisted up on top of him. It took a moment of your body squirming to find your new center of balance but eventually you righted yourself. You huffed, finally getting a good look over the crowd of people. You got a view that no one else in the venue could ever get.
In stunning clarity you could see all of the band members. Their instruments glittered in the low lighting. The sight of the lead singer's mask and rings made you swallow hard. You gripped tight onto Ghost's shorn short hair. The music seemed to swell in time with your heartbeat. Obviously uncomfortable earlier, Ghost seemed to have relaxed some. You wondered why for a moment then realized how tight your thighs were clamped around the sides of his head...
The bastard was using you as ear muffs!
You almost slapped the top of Ghost's head but the last chorus of the latest song began. The lead singer growled and huffed, squirming his body in a way that had women in the crowd squealing. Just when you were thinking about how childish that was the lead singer seemed to notice you thanks to your extra height.
He shook his hand out in your direction, grasping at the air as he sang his words of devotion. He rocked back and forwards, eyes locked on yours. Some people took notice and gasped. Girls beneath you glared at you with envy. Men's eyes around you sparkled with mischief. Hoots and whistles added to the lead singer's hungry tone.
Just as you began to feel deeply uncomfortable from the attention, Ghost pulled you off of him. You squealed as you fell over a yard towards the sticky floor. He caught you mid air, cradling you. There were a few laughs and jeers thrown your way but the crowd turned back to the stage. Ghost let you down at the way. Your legs shook a little from the adrenaline and also having been pressed hard around his head.
Ghost seemed even more uncomfortable than earlier. He rubbed at his ears through his mask. He looked around at the crowd with a frustration you couldn't identify. You tugged on his hand, forcing him to lean down to listen.
"We're leaving."
He didn't shake his head or protest this time. Instead, he dutifully followed you to the double doors. You walked outside and the two of you were greeted with cooler, quieter air. The people straggling in gave the two of you odd looks as you walked past them hand in hand.
Ghost didn't let go of your hand until you got to the truck. He opened your door and helped you up. He then got into the driver's seat himself. He didn't move to turn on the vehicle though. The two of you just sat there in the quiet, ears still buzzing. While you couldn't hear the music anymore, you could still feel some of its vibrations even at the end of the parking lot.
"You okay?" You asked, this time at a normal volume. "Better now?"
Ghost nodded, leaning back against the headrest. He huffed out a breath it seemed he'd been holding for the longest time. His eyes rolled softly in his head. You felt kind of bad. You didn't realize that maybe a concert wasn't the best idea for him. You'd only been thinking about your own enjoyment.
"I'm sorry, ya know..." You sighed. "We shouldn't hav-"
"Not your fault." He breathed, cutting you off. With that he cocked his head, looking down at you through his mask. His eyes had that half-lidded look you were starting to get used to.
"Had fun, actually."
(A/N: I might make a second, spicier chapter. We'll see how I feel. But trust me when I say this has been in my WIPs for months! The band being alluded to is of course, Sleep Token. But you could honestly imagine any punk band in their place. Also, spot the Chappell Roan reference lol.)
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sunflower-lilac42 · 2 days
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𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗺𝗲 | 𝘲𝘩43 ♔
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➪ summary: y/n had always loved quinn but she never got the chance to act on her feelings. and then quinn realized his own, and everything changed
➪ warnings: quinn has a bitchy girlfriend, quinn thinking he's not good enough
➪ word count: 5.6k
➪ file type: song based fic
➪ sunny's notes: the first song based fic i'm reposting and it's probably one of my favorites (there's five and i actually can't choose a favorite one). i hope you guys like this one because it deserves to be loved to be honest
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‘you're on the phone with your girlfriend, she's upset she's going off about something that you said 'cause she doesn't get your humor like I do’
She had just sat down in the living room when she heard voices, more like a voice, outside her door. It really wasn’t her business to know who it was but they were standing outside of her door, so she took it as her duty to know what was going on outside her apartment. 
She walked to the door, abandoning her dinner and computer on the couch. She placed her head against the door, her ear straining to hear anything that was said. It didn’t take long for her to recognize the voice of her friend, Quinn. He sounded lighthearted when he said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt you.”
Y/n assumed it had been at least a minute or two since Quinn had spoken last, her ear starting to hurt from being pressed against the door for that long. When the man outside her apartment finally spoke again, his tone was much different than before, “I was just making a joke, Chloe.”
There was more silence before she could hear him again, “No you always blow things so out of proportion. It was just a fucking joke you don’t need to get so upset about it. I was listening to you talk and didn’t want to interrupt you.”
Once again silence, and y/n could only assume that Quinn was being yelled at from the other end of the line. She rolled her eyes, she never really liked Chloe, though she only met her once maybe twice. She was always mad about something, and usually, it was because of something stupid. She usually made underlying digs about y/n and her job, stating that she only took it because of the guys and how she wanted to meet someone.
She heard Quinn speak a few more times, mostly mumbling profanities and more thoughts that he wouldn’t even dare to say to her face. It was silent for quite some time after that, not even movement from the man outside as he just stood in front of his door staring at his phone dejectedly. 
Y/n stood up and straightened herself out before opening the door slightly and peeking her head out. Quinn looked in her direction as he heard the door click open and gave her a small smile.
“You okay?”
Quinn only smiled before responding, “Tired of drama.”
She frowned, “Sorry.”
He just shrugged, fiddling with his keys in his pocket. Y/n turned away, looking back at the pot of Mac N Cheese that sat on her stove, ready to offer Quinn to come inside, but when she stuck her head back out into the hallway she noticed that Quinn had already made his way inside his apartment. 
She sighed before stepping back into her entranceway and shutting the door behind her. All she could think about were the three words that she had been wishing to say since she met Quinn.
❛ ━━・❪ ❁ ❫ ・━━ ❜
‘i'm in my room, it's a typical tuesday night ‘i'm listening to the kind of music she doesn't like ‘and she'll never know your story like I do’
It was a game day for the Canucks meaning that not only was Quinn at Rogers Arena but y/n as well. She was wearing her fleece-lined leggings with a long-sleeve t-shirt, her Canucks cardigan thrown over it. She hadn’t had a chance to wash her hair so she just threw a beanie on top and decided it was good enough.
She had been in her office since the boys had left for the locker room, editing and sending pictures to the social team. She had her earbuds in, not wanting to disturb anyone if they were still at the arena working as well. She was listening to the playlist Quinn had made for her when she found out he played for the Canucks.
When y/n moved in next door to Quinn, he had already been playing with the team for two whole seasons. Quinn had been walking out of the apartment building when he noticed the girl struggling to carry up all of her boxes from the UHaul to her new apartment. He offered to help her, especially since it was a rare day where he didn’t have a game nor did he have practice.
He ended up offering her to have dinner at his place when he realized they were next door neighbors. That night she ended up explaining to him how she got her BA in art and design and got a minor in sports management. He was surprised when she told him she was starting a new job for his team.
『••✎••』
“Yeah, I got my bachelor's in art and design and then I decided to get a minor in sports management just because I was hoping that would boost my chances of getting a job for a sports team, which ended up happening.”
Quinn raised his eyebrows as he cut up his food, “Oh really? Who are you working for now?”
She swallowed the piece of food in her mouth before wiping her mouth with her napkin, “I’m working for the Vancouver Canucks. I was pretty surprised when they said they wanted me, I mean they are an NHL Team.”
Quinn choked on the water he had been drinking when she said the Canucks, “You’re working for the Canucks?”
She looked at him oddly as he coughed up the water, his eyes watering. She didn’t understand why he was acting like this, “Yeah? Is there a problem that I’m not aware of?”
“Um, I play for the Canucks.”
Her eyes widened, “No fucking way.”
“Yeah, Quinn Hughes, number 43.”
“Oh, that’s a weird coincidence, I guess. I mean how often does stuff like this happen?”
Quinn chuckled, “Not very.”
『••✎••』
Later that night Quinn had taken her phone and made a playlist for her of the songs that always made him feel better before a game or just in the morning when he was on his way to practice. Ever since then, she had listened to that playlist when she needed a pick-me-up, wanting something familiar to her. 
She understood why Quinn liked this music before a game, it was upbeat and productive music for her. She was able to go into work mode when the song played, cleaning her office, editing photos, and adding graphics to them when the social team asked for some extra help.
When she was done she sighed when she saw it was 11. She knew she shouldn’t be driving this late at night but she had no other choice. She walked out into the hallway and walked outside the arena. It was cold in Vancouver, snow was falling on the ground. She wrapped herself tightly in her winter jacket as she made her way to her car but paused when she saw Quinn heading to his own.
He turned when he heard footsteps coming from behind him and waved when he saw who it was, “Hey, y/n/n!”
“Hi Quinny. Didn’t expect you to be staying here this late.” 
The boy shrugged, “Had a lot to talk about tonight, I guess.”
She nodded, “Yeah. Sorry about the loss.”
Quinn just sighed and nodded, “Thanks. Do you want a ride home? I know you hate driving home in the snow, especially when it’s this late- wait what were you doing here this late?”
She blushed but it went unnoticed since her cheeks were already turning a slight shade of pink from the cold, “I was editing photos and doing some stuff for the social team. They like it when I help, which is weird because I didn’t even really go to school for that. Also, why do you know that I don’t like driving home in the snow?”
Now it was Quinn’s turn to blush, “I just remembered I guess.”
The two got in his car, Quinn reassuring her that they could go back in the morning to get her car. The first ten minutes of the ride back to their apartments were silent, the quiet sports channel of the radio playing in the background. When they brought up the Canucks loss from that night, she could tell Quinn got tense since his knuckles turned white as they gripped the steering wheel. 
“You okay?”
Quinn relaxed a little at her voice but his body was still tense a little, “Yeah, just… I feel horrible right now.”
“Did Chloe ever text you? You know, to say something about the loss?”
That was a worse question. Quinn was annoyed at the question and also upset. She hadn’t texted him, in fact, the two hadn’t talked in five days with Chloe being across the country doing a string of photo shoots. He shook his head, “Nah, she’s probably sleeping, it’s like what? Three in the morning there?”
She just nodded her head and moved her head to look out of the window again. She watched as they passed buildings, still mesmerized by the snow and how it fell on the ground and the buildings. She looked back over at the boy to now see a sad look on his face, “I know how you feel, Quinn. And just know, it’s not your fault.”
“But it is though, right? I’m the captain, I’m supposed to make them better, I’m supposed to lead them to victory.”
“You can’t make them play better, Quinny. That’s what practice is for. You’re there to motivate them, inspire them, help them. You can’t make them do anything. Trust me, I know.”
Quinn looked at her in confusion, “You do?”
“Yeah, I was the captain of the girls' hockey team in college.”
“You played hockey?” Quinn asked, a grin making its way onto his face.
She shrugged, “Yeah. I was okay, I guess.”
“Okay? If you were the captain you had to have been more than okay.”
She nodded, “I was captain for only half of a season and then I got injured. Really set me back, especially during senior year. I was supposed to be out for almost the rest of the season. I could’ve played if we made the playoffs but we didn’t. And that was the extent of my hockey career.”
Quinn could see how sad she looked talking about this so he was quick to change the subject. The two were now talking about random nonsense, saying whatever was coming to mind until they reached the doors of their apartments.
“I should not have stayed at work that long. Tomorrow’s going to be a pain in the ass.”
“You’re telling me, I hate back-to-backs. We play well for the first one and then suck ass for the second because of how tired we are.”
“Well, you sucked ass today so maybe you’ll play well tomorrow.”
Quinn laughed at this, shooting her a smile, “Or maybe we’ll suck ass even more.”
❛ ━━・❪ ❁ ❫ ・━━ ❜
‘walk in the streets with you in your worn-out jeans i can't help thinking this is how it ought to be laughing on a park bench thinking to myself hey, isn't this easy?’
It was one of the rare off days that the two of them had and Chloe, as usual, wasn’t around. The two were quick to set up plans with one another and go walking around. When y/n walked out of her apartment she saw Quinn standing outside of his, getting ready to text her, “Hey.”
The boy looked up from his phone and smiled, “Hey.”
Y/n gave Quinn a once over, noticing his pair of worn-out jeans, “You need some new jeans there, Quinner?”
He laughs, “Probably, but I never have time to go shopping.”
She grins, “Well luckily we are going out so we can go get some things. Come on!” She grabs his arm and pulls him to the elevator, the two sneaking glances at one another as they wait for it.
Quinn offered to drive them around, but she immediately said no, wanting to be able to walk around. The boy was amused by her immediate response and nodded, “Okay okay. We can walk, you weirdo.”
“Hey! Thank you for noticing.” She smiles and the two walk around downtown Vancouver for a while, stopping at a clothing store to get new jeans for him.
About an hour later all Quinn could hear was the complaints coming from the girl, “I’m tired. My feet hurt. And ‘m cold.”
“I told you we could’ve taken the car.” He threw an arm around her shoulders, allowing her to lean some of her weight onto him.
“But I wanted to walk- Quinn look!”
He looked over to where y/n was now pointing and noticed the small ice cream shop on the corner, “Ice cream? It’s like 30 degrees out.”
She gave him a look, daring him to argue with her, “So?”
He held his arms up in surrender, lifting his arm from her shoulders leaving her feeling colder than before. His arm felt a little colder too, actually, the whole right side of his body felt colder as she moved away from him. They both looked at each other with awkward smiles on their faces before he ushered her to move forward, “Well come on then.”
She grinned and followed after him, a newfound pep in her step. When they got their ice cream, they made their way over to the park and sat down on one of the benches. Quinn was not fond of this idea, his whole body was cold and with him eating ice cream now, he sure as hell wasn’t getting any warmer.
They were talking about the upcoming banquet for the team, “I don’t understand these banquets. I don’t wanna go.”
Quinn whined like a little kid making y/n erupt in laughter. It was easy between them, they didn’t have to force conversation whenever they were together, they worked together so they saw each other almost all of the time, and they understood each other’s lifestyles, each other’s humor. Quinn could always talk to her about hockey which was nice especially when it was a hard game. 
That’s all y/n could think about as they sat on the bench, how easy it was. She didn’t want to be selfish but truly, why was Quinn with her? She had never once heard her ask him how his game went, he always told her that she was busy at a premier or doing whatever she was doing while she was away. She always yelled at him over the phone, she acted possessive, truly she felt bad for Quinn. He deserved better.
❛ ━━・❪ ❁ ❫ ・━━ ❜
‘and you've got a smile that can light up this whole town i haven't seen it in a while since she brought you down’
Quinn’s smile was y/n’s favorite thing in the world. It made her smile, it made others smile, it was contagious. Every time she would be taking pictures on the ice and she would see Quinn with a smile plastered on his face she took a picture and usually saw others around him smiling as well. 
Truth be told, it was rare for Quinn to smile, at least a full one. The most she got out of him lately was a small smirk or a tiny side grin when she would make a joke or any time they ran into each other really. She didn’t know if it was him just being him and not wanting to smile or if it was Chloe.
They fought a couple of weeks ago, probably the worst one yet. She had been granted a small leave from the photo shoot so she came back to see Quinn, which shocked him. He had come home late from the game, they had won by a landslide and Quinn had gotten his first win as captain. They went out for drinks, even inviting y/n and some of the wags to go with them. She accepted and made friends with some of the girls, some even joking that she would be one soon. 
『••✎••』
Y/n might have had a little too much to drink, causing Quinn to have to drive her home, as usual. Quinn laughed as she stumbled down the hallway, talking about how she got so many pictures of him from tonight’s game, “I’m sure you did.”
She giggled, “I did! Believe me! They are all on my computer, I should make you my background.”
The boy blushed and shook his head, “Okay. I think you’ve had way too much to drink. Come on, where’s your keys?”
She could only mumble now, becoming increasingly tired as the thought of her bed on the other side of the door plagued her mind, “Pocket.”
Quinn reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out the keys, keeping her upright with his arm wrapped around her waist. He unlocked the door and ushered her inside but before they even got a step into the apartment, Quinn’s door opened, “Quinn!”
Quinn looked surprised as he looked at his girlfriend standing in the entryway of his home, “Chloe? What are you doing here?”
“They gave me a break so I thought I would come and surprise you but I see you’re a little busy.”
A heavy glare settled on her face and Quinn looked apologetic, “Let me just get her inside then we will talk.”
Chloe only rolled her eyes and scoffed, walking back into his apartment. Quinn moved y/n to her bed, taking off her shoes and her jacket, “You need anything before I go?”
She shook her head. Quinn smiled at her before patting her calf and walking out of her apartment and into his own. It was only five minutes later that she could hear the screaming from the neighboring home. Y/n groaned at the noise before getting the urge to puke.
She ran into the bathroom and emptied her stomach into the toilet, groaning from the action. She leaned her head against the wall and listened to the sound of the two bickering back and forth. Ten minutes later she still sat there when there was a slam followed by footsteps outside in the hallway. 
She frowned when she heard something being thrown across the room and sighed to herself, wishing she could help him.
『••✎••』
And ever since then, Quinn’s smiles had been slim to nonexistent even when they won a game, or he scored a goal. When they hung out and watched a comedy movie he didn’t smile, just a small upturn of his mouth and that was it. 
Now it was the beginning of November and everyone was buzzing from the incredible start the Canucks had gotten off to. They were currently 8-2-1 going into the game against the Oilers and they were hoping to extend their win streak to four. 
Y/n was walking around in her usual attire in the arena, gathering pictures for later. She had gotten plenty from warm-ups and during the periods, taking a small break during intermissions before heading down to get some in the tunnel. 
Everyone erupted in cheers when the game was over, they had won 6-2. Y/n quickly put her skates on to head out for the stars of the game, trying not to get in anyone’s way as she did her job and they did theirs. She smiled when they announced Quinn as first star of the game, watching as he threw a stick over the boards, capturing the moment he turned around with a grin on his face.
All she could think about was that she was definitely going to use this in a video soon, even if Quinn did kill her for it. 
❛ ━━・❪ ❁ ❫ ・━━ ❜
‘oh, I remember you driving to my house in the middle of the night i'm the one who makes you laugh when you know you're 'bout to cry’
It had been a hard game for Quinn. Not only was it hard for Quinn with it being the Hughesbowl, but it was a hard loss for him and the team. They had done so well in getting back in the game, scoring three in 3rd, but alas it wasn’t enough. 
Quinn was taking it harder than anyone else, claiming that he should’ve done more for the team to win. He hadn’t done much in the game, blaming it on him for not doing enough for them. Before going out with his family he told them he had to do something, going to y/n’s office and knocking on the door. 
He didn’t get an answer, mostly because y/n had already left since she was extremely exhausted from the amount of running back and forth she had to do during the game. Quinn left disappointed, meeting back up with his family for dinner. 
He came back home and stopped in front of her door, “Y/n/n.”
Luckily, she had been right at the door, doing a little bit of cleaning around her apartment. She heard the whisper of her name, it was barely audible. She opened the door and smiled when she saw him, “Hey Quinn. What’s up?”
He didn’t say anything, just motioning with his hand if it was okay that he came inside. She stepped aside and the boy walked in, falling down on the couch. She approached him hesitantly, “Quinn? Are you okay?”
He looked up at her with tears in his eyes, “I’m not good enough am I?”
All the emotions came rushing to Quinn. Being constantly compared to his brothers, being constantly asked about them. Chloe was just using him for his money which he finally recognized a couple of days ago. He kept being told that he was overrated and that he shouldn’t be captain.
Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed and she walked over to him wrapping him in a hug, “What? Of course, you’re good enough Quinn. Who said that?”
Quinn shook his head, burying it into her shoulder, “I can’t escape it, y/n. Everywhere I go everyone is always comparing me to Jack and I’m so sick of it. It’s like I can’t do anything right. I let the team down, I should’ve done better tonight. Now everyone thinks I’m the worst Hughes and someone said Luke shouldn’t even be looking up to me. And they keep telling me I’m a failure.
Y/n’s heart broke at his confession but it shattered when he said the next words, “And no one loves me anymore, y/n/n. Chloe’s just using me, she never wanted me. God, I’m so stupid, I should’ve seen it coming.”
She rubbed his back and just let him let out all of his feelings. When it was silent for two minutes she pulled away from him and made her look into her eyes, “Listen to me, Quintin.”
He slightly smiled at the name, “You are no failure, Quinn. Believe me. You have been doing amazing this season, both personally and leading the team. You have led this team to 16 victories this season. And you led them to overtime twice and only lost one of them.”
“Yeah but I still lost them 8 games.”
“You couldn’t have done anything more than what you did, Quinn. You know what your guys’ record was last year through 25 games? 10-12-3. You won 6 more games this year. You have more goals at this point in the season than you did in the entire year last year, Quinn. Who cares that people, who are nobodies to you, are comparing you to Jack? You two have different experiences, you play two different positions, you play for two different teams. You do so much for Luke, I promise you. That kid will look up to you no matter what.”
Quinn’s eyes glistened with tears at her words, and the best thing was that he believed her and that was all that she could ask for. He nodded his head when she was done and slowly unwrapped himself from her, missing the embrace immediately.
She didn’t want him to be sad, or at least leave while sad, so she said the only thing that came to mind, “If it makes you feel any better. I think you’re the best looking Hughes.”
Quinn laughed loudly, wiping the tears from his eyes that were threatening to fall, “Thanks y/n/n.”
“Any time, you want some ice cream?” He only nodded and she got up to get it.
The two spent the next hour and a half eating ice cream on her couch watching a movie, before falling asleep on each other. 
❛ ━━・❪ ❁ ❫ ・━━ ❜
‘and I know your favorite songs and you tell me 'bout your dreams think I know where you belong think I know it's with me’
It was a late night for both Quinn and y/n. The two were hanging out in her apartment after Quinn’s practice. They hadn’t had a game that night so they were on her couch watching whatever hockey game was on at that moment.
Y/n was sitting on her laptop editing some photos from the previous game, switching in between tabs quickly. Quinn was in the kitchen making dinner for the two of them after he offered. She could hear the sizzling from the pan and called out, “What the hell are you making over there?”
Quinn looked down to see the noodles and furrowed his eyebrows, “Noodles!”
“I thought you were cooking up a mean meal, but noodles? I let you into my house and allow you to make me dinner and you make me noodles?”
She walked into the kitchen with her laptop and sat down at the counter. Quinn looked over at her, offended, “Hey you said you didn’t care.”
She giggled, “I know. So Chef Quinn, what kind of noodles are you making?”
“Fettuccine.”
“Oh, so you’re making me fancy noodles. I’ll forgive you.”
“Why thank you m’lady. Whatcha doing over there?” 
Quinn walked around the counter to look at her laptop, “Are you looking at pictures of my teammates?”
“If we’re being honest here, they are my main models.”
“And I thought I was your favorite.” He placed a hand to his chest before going back to check on the fettuccine.
“You are, I finished yours already. See there’s a folder that’s called ‘Captain Quintin’.” She spun her computer around and showed him, “Awe you love me.”
She shrugged, a blush rising to her cheeks, “Maybe…”
“You want to listen to some music?”
She nodded and pulled up Spotify on her computer, “What’s your favorite song?”
“And why do you want to know?”
She looked up at him with a deadpan face, “Are you shitting me?”
He smiled, “No.” He took the laptop and typed in his favorite song and added it to the queue, and then a few more after that.
“What’s your favorite?”
“And why do you want to know?”
“So I can add it!”
“It’s You Belong with Me.”
Quinn quirked an eyebrow but said nothing, making sure that the song played first. When it came on, y/n immediately started singing it and Quinn looked over at her with a smile. He could get used to this.
When dinner was done, she took her computer back to the living room and sat it down before walking back into the kitchen to sit down at the counter once more, making sure they could both see the TV.
Halfway through eating, Quinn looked over at her, “What’s your dream?”
She finished the piece of fettuccine she was eating and looked at him, “What do you mean?”
“Like what’s your main dream for life.”
She shrugged, “I don’t know. I really like my job so probably keeping that job is part of it. I want to have two or four kids. And I want them close in age or at least two of them are. Like the oldest would be close in age and the youngest would be close in age.”
“Why two or four? Why not three?”
“Because I had two older brothers and they were both like 8 years older than me and I always felt left out. I don’t want my kids to feel like that. I mean not that you are like that with Jack and Luke but at least you guys are close in age right? You guys like the same thing, hell you do the same thing for a living.”
Quinn nods, understanding what she was saying, “Yeah, I see that.”
“What about you? What is your dream, Quinn Hughes?”
He looked flustered, “I want to keep playing hockey, of course. I want kids but I don’t know how many. And I want a good partner. I want someone who understands that I have to travel a lot for work and how much pressure it is. I need someone who understands hockey and likes it. Chloe understands it, which is nice.”
She nods and smiles but saddened by the fact he still was with Chloe. She wasn’t good for him and she thought he was slowly starting to understand that. They continued to eat in silence, negative thoughts chewing away at both Quinn's and y/n’s minds.
❛ ━━・❪ ❁ ❫ ・━━ ❜
‘can't you see that I'm the one who understands you? been here all along so, why can't you see? you belong with me’
Y/n stepped into the hallway, taking out the trash that had been overflowing in her garbage can for the past two days. She took a couple steps and saw Quinn stepping out of his apartment, “Hey.”
She noticed his tux he was wearing, he was fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves when she spoke, “Hi.”
The two stood in an awkward silence before Quinn asked, “Are you going tonight?”
It wasn’t that she forgot the banquet was tonight, it was more of the fact that she didn’t want to spend an entire night looking at Chloe wrapped around Quinn. She shook her head, “Nah, I’ve got some work to do.”
He nodded, confused a little since she had said earlier in the week that she planned on going. He shrugged it off as just a simple plan change and frowned when he looked her in the eyes, “Wish you were.”
She smiled and nodded, “I’m sorry to leave you to the wolves, Quinner.”
“You should be, it’s heartbreaking to know that my favorite person isn’t going to be there. How will I survive this evening?”
“You won’t, trust me.” She patted him on the back before going to walk to the garbage chute, “Here, I’ll just take it downstairs, I’m going that way anyways.”
She went to protest but Quinn was already taking it out of her hands and walking away, “Thank you.”
He waved her off, shooting her a smile, “Anytime.”
She walked back into her apartment and walked into her room, staring at the dress that hung on the back of her closet. She didn’t want to go, but after the comment that Quinn made she had a change of heart. She didn’t take long putting her makeup on, curling her hair as fast as possible. She threw on her dress and raced out the door, driving to the venue as quickly as she could.
❛ ━━・❪ ❁ ❫ ・━━ ❜
‘standing by and waiting at your backdoor all this time how could you not know, baby? you belong with me have you ever thought just maybe you belong with me?’
Walking into the venue, y/n was nervous. She knew little to no people there mostly because her friends had already said they weren’t going or were going to be later than she was. She only knew a few guys on the team, including Quinn, and their wives or girlfriends.
She waved at some of the guys she walked past, lots of people making a clearing for her because of how she looked. Some of the guys that were single looked at her with a wide gaze, trying to decide if she was single or not. 
The piece of paper she had burned a hole through her pocket as she walked. It took Quinn five minutes to notice that she was there, having turned around and locked eyes with her. His eyebrows raised in amusement, a grin making its way onto his face.
He waved bye to the group he was talking to and started to make his way over to the girl. He only got a few steps before Chloe took him by the arm, “Hey Quinn. I’m surprised you didn’t see me yet. You look so hot tonight.”
Quinn just smiled awkwardly before pulling away and continuing his previous path to the girl. Chloe looked at the two in shock and scoffed, walking away from the growing crowd. When he stood right in front of her he smiled, “I can’t believe you’re here.”
She nodded, “Yeah I had a change of heart.”
The boy couldn’t really make out any words, starstruck by how beautiful she looked. The only thing he could do was reach into his pocket and pull out a folded piece of paper. He straightened it out and showed it to her and she grinned, tears making their way into her eyes as she pulled out her own.
Everyone gasped in awe as they read the signs, both of them saying ‘I Love You’. He pulled her into a tight hug, kissing her cheek, “I can’t believe you remembered.”
“I remember everything about you, y/n/n."
❛ ━━・❪ ❁ ❫ ・━━ ❜
‘you belong with me’
It had been a long night, the game had lasted longer than everyone had expected. The two now always drove to and from work together when they could. Quinn would stay after the game until she was ready to go and vice versa.
Right now, they were laying in Quinn’s bed in his apartment, Quinn watching as she edited pictures from tonight's game. He had an arm wrapped around her as she laid her head on his chest, her knees brought up so she could lay her computer on them.
He smiled when she kept getting pictures of him and he went to say something, “How many pictures of me do you have?”
She smiled, “You’re my boyfriend now, you are going to have a lot of pictures of you taken. Plus, I don’t think the fans would mine, I’m doing god’s work, Quinn.”
“What are you trying to say there? Do you think I’m cute?”
A blush rushed to her cheeks, “No, like I said. I’m just doing the fans a favor.” 
Quinn shut her laptop, placing it on the nightstand, “I think you’re doing yourself a favor.”
She hid her face in his chest, “Maybe.”
He laughed and wrapped both of his arms around her, tightening his hold, “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
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