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themoonlitquill · 8 days ago

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Whispers Woven in Shadow. (1/?)

𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙩𝙝 𝘼𝙧𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙣 𝙨𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧? 𝙃𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚? 𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙙𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚? 𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮.

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 ; 𝖠𝗓𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗅 𝗑 𝖥𝖾𝗆!𝖮𝖢 (𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅).

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 ; I’m terrible at summaries, so please don’t hate me for that! This is an OC that I’ve been playing around with for literal ages and I finally made the choice to really dive in and develop her, and then the ideas just started flowing in and I couldn’t stop writing! I’m already working on a second chapter for this, but let me know your thoughts if you’d like to see this continued! I don’t post my writing too often, so be kind if you don’t mind!! Oh, && special thanks to @coffeebooksrain18 for the moodboard! 🩵 Enjoy!

𝖳𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝖶𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 ; 𝗠𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳-𝗶𝘀𝗼𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻, 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗻, 𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳-𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁𝘆 𝗶𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗿-𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗺𝗼𝗶𝗹.

𝖶𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖢𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍 ; 3802.

Everything is different now, Ariadne Archeron blinks as she looks out the window to the clear skies of robin’s egg blue with rays of sunlight streaming through to cast a golden hue that emitted warmth and yet, she had never felt so cold, so empty. Her mind was spinning around in circles, jumping from thought to thought, never settling and making her skin itch with such an intensity that she had to refrain herself from digging her nails in and ripping flesh from bone.

It was all wrong. Every single bit of it. And she couldn’t understand what was going on and why she was feeling this way.

The simple answer was because she had been thrown into a massive pot that stripped her humanity from her without consent and replaced it with immortality, which was something she had only wondered about in the stories that Elain used to show her as a little girl; she never imagined that it would come true and become her life.

Feyre had accepted being Made into High Fae graciously, almost eagerly, while Nesta seethed and resented, focusing her pent up emotions into care and concern for Elain. That left Ariadne to deal with it alone and if she were to be honest with herself, she wasn’t doing a very good job of it.

She was broken, lost, and confused, nearly a shell of her former self. How was she to handle this? What was she to do? There wasn’t a set of rules for something like this and there was no one to turn to for advice, not that she could anyway with her inability to speak.

It seemed that magic couldn’t heal everything.

Ariadne had been born deaf and could only communicate through gestures and looks, which made everything that much harder for her compared to her sisters. She couldn’t get her mouth to form the words that ran rampant in her head, not that she didn’t try, and eventually, she gave up, coming to the realization that what she so desperately wanted to say would never be heard by anyone other than herself.

She had never felt sorry about her ailment before, knowing that Nesta understood when she was irritated by the way her eyes narrowed with a hand placed defiantly on her hip and that Elain knew when she needed a moment away from their father when a frustrated huff emitted from her nose, followed with the incessant picking at the skin around her fingernails.

And Feyre, well, she was able to decipher what Ariadne wanted before she even did.

But it was different now. It wasn’t the same and the changes she was going through had to be dealt with, with no help from anyone. It wasn’t fair.

She wanted to scream and yell and cry and throw things, but she couldn’t, and if she could, she wouldn’t want to. That wasn’t who she was and it definitely wasn’t how she acted when life didn’t go the way she wished for it to. Instead, Ariadne kept it hidden away from prying eyes and suffered in silence, because that’s what this all was.

Suffering.

Agony.

Without any end in sight.

Ariadne works to swallow the dry lump that had formed in her throat and she withholds a wince, knowing that she needed something to drink and she was already dreading the fact that she’d have to leave the bit of safety in the room, that was now hers, to go get it.

Unless she wanted to stick her mouth under the faucet again and she most definitely did not.

Downstairs it is, she gnaws on the inside of her lower lip until she tastes the unmistakable tang of copper on her tongue, the nerves already setting in. You can do this, Ari. Just stand up and walk. It isn’t that hard, her fingers clenched into a fist, nails biting into her palm. Get UP! Get up, get up, get up!

Why couldn’t she move? What was wrong with her?

Ariadne sucks in a breath and holds it for a moment, then releases, her eyelids fluttering as she struggles to keep herself composed. The tears were right there and there was no way she would allow them to fall; she had to be strong like Feyre would be, not letting anything knock her down, and if it did, she’d get back up to try again. She could do that, couldn’t she?

It’ll be quick. Start with putting your feet on the floor. That’s easy enough to do, she reopens her eyes and stares straight ahead for several minutes, working on keeping each breath steady. On the count of three… One, her skin prickles, but she manages to sit up straight, legs unfolding. Two, sweat forms on her brow as she moves her feet to hover over the carpet. Three!

The distance closes and she freezes when she feels the plush material against her skin, finding that it was kind of… nice. See, not so bad, right? One thing at a time. You can do that no problem.

A small bit of confidence surges through her and she quickly rests her arms on either side of the chair, bracing herself before pushing herself up; her knees wobble and her brow furrows, but Ariadne - more determined than she realized - finds her balance and straightens, taking a deep breath in order to calm down a little.

Hey! Look at that. You did it, there’s a twitch at the corner of her mouth, which she dutifully ignores. Now, another deep breath. Start walking, was it too soon to do this? It had only been a week since- Don’t go there, Ari. You’re doing so well. You aren’t there anymore. You’re fine, she lifts her chin and turns towards the door. Go on, she takes a step.

Ariadne keeps going, one foot at a time, and becomes more steady, making her way across the - her - room to the door and stopping to stand in front of it. Her hand wrapped around the handle, halfway turned, but she froze again. Completely immobile. Why was her heart beating so quickly? This wasn’t normal. It made no sense to feel like this and she couldn’t find a way to understand it, which was incredibly frustrating.

It’s good that you want to see something else besides these same four walls. Nothing wrong with that. No one is even going to be out there, she turns it the rest of the way. Nesta is with Elain, and Feyre, her heart clenches painfully. Feyre isn’t here right now, so you’re going to have to do this yourself, she pulls and it opens. There you go.

Ariadne peers out into the hall and looks down both ends, not seeing anything other than the rest of the doors, all closed, and the sconces that emitted a warm light. She slips through and begins to walk, her feet padding softly against the floor and she was hoping that the kitchen was in this direction or else she was going to be wandering around for a while; the House of Wind was huge.

She continues on with her hands clasped together in front of her, the pad of her thumb rubbing soothing circles onto the top and she can’t help but look around, never having seen anything like it before. Not even Archeron Estate. The amount of money that Rhysand had to build something like this? He must’ve grown up rich. Her gaze roams over the intricate carvings on the large columned archways, head tilted in quiet admiration. They were pretty.

The hallway comes to a set of stairs, only four, and Ariadne pauses before taking each one down to find a kitchen to the left that led to what she assumed was the dining room, and held a grand table in the center with multiple high-backed chairs.

Yeah, definitely rich from birth, she walks further in and flicks her eyes over the cabinets, realizing that she had no clue where anything was. Look through all of them. It isn’t going to matter anyway, she reaches up on her tip-toes and her fingertips barely brush against the handle. Oh, great, she sighs. Where’s a ladder when you need one?

She notes the sink only a few inches away and she moves to crouch down in front, beginning to search through and eventually coming up empty. Please don’t tell me I have to climb on a counter, Ariadne stands back up straight. Again, there was really no other way, was there? Of course not.

Her brow furrows as she surveys the correct way to do it without getting hurt, knowing that no one was there to help if things went awry; she finally settles on using the shelf that went across the middle of the bottom cabinet to use to give her a boost and then she’d be able to get her leg up by bracing her weight against the wall.

It seemed simple enough.

After getting into position, Ariadne takes a breath and places her hand to the left as she pushes her foot against the shelf. She grunts from the effort to lift her leg, managing to get her knee onto the counter and use what strength she had to pull the rest of herself on top.

She grasps at the handle on the cabinet to steady herself before she adjusts her knees and leans over a little to open it, only to find plates. An annoyed huff makes her nostrils flare and she carefully shuts it. I should’ve just drank from the faucet again, her arm extends and her fingers wrap around the next handle as she moves over. This is way too much to do for a cup, she keeps her spine straight and prays to whatever higher power hailed over Prythian that this was the right one.

Ariadne pulls, and she doesn’t notice the fabric of her dress shift or when she starts to slide; she peeks inside and her eyes brighten when she sees what she had been hoping for. Yes!

Her body goes to lean like she had done a couple minutes ago and her knees give out from under her, a surprised sound leaving her lips as her other arm flails, unable to find anything to hold onto. No!

Everything went sideways and Ariadne began to fall, the top of her foot hitting the edge of the counter and she hisses through her teeth, eyes squeezing shut and bracing for the impact of her body against the tiled floor. But it never came. There was something looped around her waist, cool and soft, flowing like silk and holding with a gentleness that she had never felt before. What is it? Where did it come from?

Whatever it was had decided to turn her upright and place her down safely, which is when she decided to open her eyes; the first thing noticed were the wings, massive and actually really beautiful, but holding a power that matched that of the one, two, three, four… seven siphons, which reminded her of sapphires, and then it was the deep bronze skin that was littered with dirt, grime, and only the Gods knew what else, followed by a tousle of dark hair, slightly curly.

Though, what Ariadne noticed the most was the golden glow that faded into hazel. There was a mixture of guardedness, curiosity, and worry - maybe? - swirling within the shifting shades of green and brown, but she wasn’t sure if she could trust it. Azriel, I think. The other one is who Nesta can’t stand. Cassian? This is the… Spysinger, her lips pressed together. No, that isn’t right. Oh! Shadowmaster. Yeah, that makes more sense.

She blinks and realizes that she had been staring at him for longer than she should’ve and quickly refocuses to see that he had come around from the other side of the counter to stand a few feet away from her.

It looked like the Shadowmaster had been in a few fights and then slept on the ground afterwards, which was weird to her because she swore Cassian was the aggressive one. Never judge a book, Ari. People look at you and think you’re not capable of anything or that you’re stupid, she lifts her chin and finds that she could now only see his chest when she did that, so she tilts her head back further until she finds his face again.

₊˚✧𑁍.ೃ࿔*:･

Azriel watches in silence as the youngest Archeron sister - Ariadne - nearly breaks her neck in order to meet his gaze, the warm honey of her eyes full of questions, trepidation, and a sadness that was trying to hide itself and he was certain it was much larger than what he already caught. He found himself wishing he could ask her about it, but that was impossible for two important reasons; one, Azriel didn’t do things like that and two, even if he did, Ariadne wouldn’t be able to hear him.

And who was to say that if she could, she would answer?

He resorts to raising a single brow, inclining his head towards the counter as he keeps his sights set on her, surveying her expression for the slightest change; it starts with a flicker of surprise before shifting to neutral and she nods, the smallest of sighs emitting from her parted lips and she glances at the still open cabinet that held the cups, then tapping her fingers at the base of her throat.

Ah, he steps forward and reaches inside to grab one, lowering it down and handing it to her. There’s a moment of hesitation, though it doesn’t seem to be an aversion to him. It was more so of someone unsure how to accept help when they had been doing everything without it for a long time. You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?

The ever-present shadows that swirled around Azriel became tense at the thought and he quickly pushed it to the back of his mind to be locked away.

Now wasn’t the time.

Ariadne was staring at the glass and he realized that she had no idea that the House of Wind would provide anything she wanted. After all, how was she going to know anything about a world she had been thrown into? Stories that passed over to the human lands weren’t always accurate.

Will you- He hears a quiet gasp and he cuts himself off, attention snapping back to the small Fae in front of him that was watching as… orange juice filled to the brim. Apparently, she figured it out a lot quicker than he thought she would. The corner of his mouth twitches. Smart girl.

Azriel takes a couple steps back and leans his hip against the counter, arms crossed over his chest with his wings tucked behind. Ariadne turns her head and blinks at him, observing his position before giving a single dip of her chin and he had a feeling that it was her way of saying ‘thank you.’

He returns the gesture and she begins to walk by, more than likely heading back to her room, and that’s when he smells it; cherry blossoms. It was sweet and soft, hints of creamy vanilla bean and almond with a warmth that made him want to reach out and touch her.

It’s his turn to blink now and he waits for Ariadne to pass before he looks over his shoulder, hazel returning to that golden hue as she makes her way back up the steps and disappears down the hall. His shadows begin curling around his neck and ears, whispering to him in cool breaths, some louder than others.

She is special. Yes, special. And alone. Afraid. She is lost. No way to understand. She cannot ask. She wants to understand. Must help her understand. Yes. Help her.

Azriel gives a small tug and they fall silent, though they flick against his skin in protest and to show their evident distaste for his dismissal. He rolls his eyes with a heavy exhale, giving his head a shake before he pushes himself away from the counter and disappears into the same temperamental darkness that matched that of himself.

₊˚✧𑁍.ೃ࿔*:･

Ariadne was unsure how to feel about her brief interaction with Azriel; he understood what she’d been trying to do and had even helped her, which was odd for her, but it made him better than most people she had met. He didn’t invade her personal space either, didn’t try to do anything at all that would make her the slightest bit uncomfortable.

In fact, he seemed to be a fairly decent male. She couldn’t remember a single instance over the few times she had been around him - even as a human - where he had ever acted out or caused any sort of problem. And if he did, she had an inkling that it would have to be over something important.

Her eyes lifted to the window and found that the sun had set, painting the sky in magenta and lavender with bursts of burnt orange and yellow; it reminded her of something that Feyre might like to recreate on canvas. There’s a sharp pang in the center of her heart at the thought of her sister and she winces, reaching up to rub the spot with her hand.

It was hard without Feyre. Yes, Nesta and Elain were there, but they were handling being Made even worse than Ariadne was. At least she had left the room. Granted, it was only once and she wasn’t gone for that long. It was still more than what they were doing.

And that had to count for something, didn’t it?

Ariadne had been the closest with Feyre, in age and in every other way. They were inseparable and a lot of love was shared between the two of them, along with a deep-rooted loyalty and respect for who they each were. And now? She felt like she was missing a vital piece of herself that she didn’t know how to get back and the longer the stretch of days went on, the more painful it got.

She picks at the skin around her nails and shifts her gaze to the floor, not wanting to think about any of this anymore. That was the thing about having no way to talk to someone; she tended to inner-monologue and go too into detail about things, overwhelming herself until she disassociated from it all.

Not the best solution, but it worked for her.

A flicker of movement in the corner catches her attention and she zeroes in on it, eyes narrowing slightly. Don’t tell me this place has ghosts now, Ariadne stands, noting how it was darker than it should’ve been with the way the light was streaming in. Because I will find a way to get out of here. There can’t be that many stairs.

She takes a couple steps forward, head tilted with curiosity and a bit of fear if it was actually a ghost. Whatever you are, I’m not going to hurt you, so that means you can’t hurt me either. That’s how this works.

The unknown something moves again, causing a shift in the air that her new Fae eyes are able to detect; it looked like smoke, though more refined and smooth, shimmering with an iridescence that reminded her of the stars. She reaches out. What are you?

It slithers forward and Ariadne watches as it brushes against one of her fingers, almost as if it were curious about her too, and that’s when she feels that same softness that had been around her waist earlier, silken and surprisingly strong.

You’re one of Azriel’s shadows, it curls around her finger and Ariadne hums. What are you doing here? Did he send you?

The shadow moves further up until it’s wrapped around her wrist, the end curled between her fingers and she feels something push at the back of her skull. It didn’t hurt, but it was strange; it sort of felt like someone was trying to fit the wrong key into a lock.

Ariadne keeps her eye on the shadow and takes a breath. Are you trying to get in? Feyre mentioned that before, but I can’t remember what it’s called. It’s mind reading though, isn’t it? Are you saying I can do it too?

There’s an instantaneous pressure around her wrist and she sucks in another breath. Okay, that’s… Okay, her brow furrows; how did the shadow know before she did? Was it because of Azriel being their master? But then that would mean he would know too, wouldn’t he? And he had never given any inclination that he did, so how?

She wished she knew all of the information that Feyre had given back when she first showed them that she was High Fae. Ariadne could read, some, from the few books Nesta was able to get when they lived in the small cottage and then even more so when their father had suddenly been offered a business deal that made them wealthy again, not that she remembered any of that part of their life, and was given lessons; she didn’t like them and proceeded to have a glare off with her eldest sister until it was made clear that there would be no changing her mind.

Ariadne would teach herself.

And reading turned into writing.

But it had been slow going at first and when Feyre had arrived with Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian, she had only gotten so far and there was some of it that had been written down that she either got mixed up or couldn’t remember at all. It was all bits and pieces.

The tightening around her wrist draws her attention back to the present and she shakes her head. Right. Focus, Ari. If the shadow is trying to tell me what I think it is, I have to try, don’t I?

Ariadne closes her eyes and recedes back into her mind, maneuvering through the jumbled mess of thoughts before she comes across an opalescent wall, shimmering with a moonlight glow and she couldn’t help but think how pretty it was. Why had she never noticed this before? Her head tilts and she probes further, searching for some way to open it.

It brushed softly against her just as the shadow did and she gave an instinctive squeeze in return before the wall of light brightened, beginning to shake and shift, soon revealing a small entryway for a single person to get through. She gasps.

Whoa! How did I do that? Ariadne opens her eyes and looks down to see the little thing was weaving between her fingers. Can you hear me now?

Yes.

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jessjad · 4 months ago

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Rightfully deceived

Chapter 1

Summary: When a marriage promise forces Y/N to step up for her younger sister, she gets something she always wanted. But when the truth comes out, her new husband Dean is not so happy about the mix-up. Will she loose it all? Or will she be surprised in the end?

Pairing: AU!Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3487

Warnings: 18+ only!!! arranged marriage, lying, some nerves, smut, lost of virginity, first time

A/N: Ya'll get this chapter a day early, because I have two weeks off of work now! 🥳 Okay, here we go. Let's see how this wedding went down. All mistakes are mine! Enjoy! 😊

Series Masterlist My Masterlist

The day before...

"Please, Y/N! You need to help me out here."

The noise in the castle had become significantly louder after the guests had arrived two hours ago. Dean Winchester only had a few men with him, but that didn't make them any less loud. The wedding preparations were largely complete and soon they would have to go downstairs for the evening's feast.

But Helena didn't want to go down. She didn't even want to go through with the marriage the next morning. The younger woman was holding Y/N's hands like a plea with tears in her eyes and had just revealed her great plan of escaping the gruesome future their father had sold her to. Which were Helenas words, not hers.

Apparently she and the young man she was activly seeing in the last months wanted to elope and get married on their own. Y/N had known that these two were very fond of eachother, but she had never thought that it was that serious. Especially not when you have a man like Dean Winchester on your side that shows interest in you.

"Listen, Y/N... " spoke Helena again and brought her back out of her thoughts. "... there is now way this can go wrong. Noone's going to know until the next morning."

"Helena..."

"He won't see you until late in the night. If he's even able to get up the stairs to your bedroom after the wedding celebration." she tried to reason.

"But eventually he will find out that I'm the wrong bride!"

"But then you're already married!"

Y/N huffed and freed her hands out of her sisters grip. This was ridiculous.

"And you think that will make him soften and forget the fact that he got betrayed?"

Now Helena was a little lost for words. "Well... it's not... really betrayal..."

"Yes, it is, Lena! It is betrayal. And what do you think he will do with the arrangment he made with our father? Have you thought about that?"

Silence filled the room, but Y/N could see that Helena was a little fuming inside. Of course her sister did not think about the consequences of her actions and just wanted to do what she wanted. And as the older one Y/N should just say no. But this was Dean they were talking about. Her heart was a little biased here.

"I'm sorry. Y/N. But I'm not going to marry him. I love Peter and he will come and pick me up tonight."

"What?"

"I will be gone in the morning. And if you really care about me, you will let me go and help me out."

Over this revelation Y/N was just stunned and watched Helena turned around and leave the room.

Now...

They all had to be in the chapel in an hour and Helena had made her promise true. Last evening at the feast she was sitting next to Dean, talking to him and being her usual self. And to everyone else very visible, Dean was only even more fond of her as he already had been. It had broken Y/N's heart to watch the scene. Before they went to bed Y/N again had tried to reason with her, but as she knew her younger sister she remained stubborn.

"Where is your sister, Y/N?" her father came over and asked. "She needs to dress and her maid is nowhere to be found."

A little panic rose in her chest. As soon as she was awake, Y/N had looked for Helena, but she was really gone. If she was honest, she could not entirely blame her for going after her heart. She knew how it felt to be in love. It just had been the worst moment to do so. And now, she was running out of time.

"Just... sent Millicent to her. She can help her getting dressed."

Millicent was her own maid and once she was in Helenas room she would understand. Y/N made a decision then and there. After her father left again she ran as fast as she could over to her sisters room and hid in there, waiting for Millie. The dress and veil was already laying on the bed and her heart squeezed a little upon that sight. A knock on the door made her hide behind the screen before she asked who was outside. Whe she heared the voice of her maid she released a relieved sigh.

"Come in and close the door behind you." Y/N said and waited before she came back out from behind the screen.

"Mylady? What..."

"Let noone else enter the room until I'm fully dressed in the gown."

Whilst Millicent's eyes widened in surprise, Y/N already tried to get out of her own dress. After a few seconds of struggleling her maid rushed forward to help her.

"But why are you putting on the dress that belongs to your sister?"

With a small huff Y/N turned to her maid. In the safe space of an empty room with only them two alone in it, they could drop the formal speech and behave freely like the friends they had become over the years.

"She's gone. My sister's gone, Millie."

"What?" came Millie's shocked response. "When?"

Y/N finally stepped into the wedding dress and pulled it up her body over her shoulders. It was a beautiful dress. Red and gold. Expensive. Heavy. And she fitted barely into it. Not only was she a little shorter than her sister, Helena had always been the skinnier one of the two.

"Last night. She didn't want to marry Dean and ran away."

"With this Peter guy?"

"Yeah..."

Millie began to close the dress up on the back and Y/N started to think again. This would only be a temporary fix for the current situation. The calm before the storm.

"So... what is the plan?" the maid asked into the silence.

"Get through the day. Marry Dean... and hope he doesn't completely freak out tomorrow."

Millicent came back around, flatening the fabric on her shoulders before reaching for the veil. The two women looked at eachother for a moment and Y/N knew that her friend understood her internal struggle. She was the only one Y/N had told that she was in love with Dean and it dawned on both that this was going to be a big deal.

A sudden knock on the door startled them and Millie hurried to get the veil over Y/N's head just in time, before the door opened. Her father was stepping in to see if the bride to be was finally ready.

"Oh Helena... you look so beautiful." he smiled and looked so proud. Y/N' stomache started to turn.

"Thanks." she whispered and tried to mimic her sisters lighter voice.

"Well. it's time to go. Your husband is waiting!" he exclaimed excited and left the room again, totaly oblivious to the tension that had build up with every passing second.

Once the women were alone again, Y/N closed her eyes under the veil and took some deep breaths. But when she felt the veil lift a little she opned them back up again and saw Millicent look at her worried.

"Are you ready?" the woman asked quietly.

"No."

Dean's hands were warm. His smile was gentle and he looked really happy. And just for a second Y/N thought it was because of her. Looking up into his smiling face made her heart burst with love for this man who had no idea that he was getting betrayed right at this moment. And just like that the guilt sat in, making her feel bad for doing this in an instant.

"I do." she heard him say with his rich, dark voice before he turned his head back again to the woman by his side.

Now it was her turn to say it. The pastor was already finished with his speech and everyone was waiting for her to answer. She looked back into the room full of people she loved and cared about. Her father already beckoning her to say something with his eyes. She turned her head back to Dean and tears started to sting her eyes.

If he only would've looked at her more than once. If he only would've tried to get to know her too. Maybe he would've fallen in love with her as well. She was not like Helena. Not so pretty and skinny and beautiful. She knew that. But Y/N had always tried to engage in the conversations with him. To make him notice her, see her too. However, it never really worked the way she wished for. But at least for this moment, no matter how short it would be, she wanted to try and make him happy. She wanted to be the woman by his side.

"I do."

Dean felt good. Really good. He was married to a woman that he was truly fond of. She was younger, sure, but that did not seem to bother her too. And now, they could officially be together. To that he had to smile. He reached for his cup and drank a big sip of the whiskey, whilst he looked around the room.

The celebration of his wedding were only midway through, but Helena had already excused herself. She seemed to be a little nervous and obviously wanted to get a little alone time with the other women. He could not blame her. This night would be special, for both of them. Eventhough he already knew what was coming.

"You got a pretty big smile on there, brother."

At that Dean had to chuckle. His younger brother Sam sat down in the empty chair nex to his and sported a smug smile on his face.

"I'm married, Sammy. I've been waiting for this a little while."

"Yeah, but at home were women too that would've married you on the spot."

Dean did not need to ask who he meant. They both knew Sam was talking about Cassie.

"But I always wanted Helena. And now she's my wife."

They both cheered with eachother. Everyone was in a good mood.

"Are you happy?" Sam asked after a couple of moments and Dean turned back to his brother.

"Yes. Yes, I am."

Within the next hour the music got a little louder and people drank more and more. It was an exuberant evening. And even though Dean tried not to drink too much alcohol himself, he couldn't hold back because of the good mood. Sam stayed by his side the entire time and a few other of his men joined them to drink and celebrate. It was fun, but he still noticed something.

"Have you seen Y/N?"

Upon that question Sam let his gaze roam over the other participants, but he too could not see her.

"No. Why?"

"I don't know. It's just... I have not seen her all day."

"Okay... so what?" Sam asked. "She's probably busy with other things. She'll have to say goodbye to her sister tomorrow and she's surely with Helena right now." To that Dean nodded his head. "Just like her maid."

"Her maid?" now it was Dean's turn to look at his brother a little surprised. "You mean Millicent?"

"Urm... yeah... if... if that's her name." Sam answered and cleared his throat.

"Ooohh, Sammy! Do you like her?" Dean grined.

"No! Just... shut up." he protested, but the slight red tinge on his cheeks told otherwise.

Dean laughed and kept quiet. But only for a moment.

"Technically she would be older than you."

"Dean, I swear!"

"Okay, okay!"

The older Winchester held his hands up in defeat, but he could not stop the smile on his face. His brother was never a good liar.

Y/N had left the celebration shortly after the food was served. Her nerves had gotten the best of her. She was sweating under the veil and with Dean so close to her she had a really hard time not to give away that it was her and not Helena. But her husband had fun and she did not wanted to ruin it for him.

When she arrived at the new bedroom, Millicent was already there and had prepared a bath for her. The roaring fire in the fireplace had heated up the room nicely. Winter was starting to come around and the nights got colder and colder.

After getting out of the heavy wedding dress and sliding into the hot bath she felt like she could breath again. Millicent stayed with her until she was ready to fall face first into the bed and just sleep the day away. Which seemed to work, but not for long.

It was already late at night and the fire was out long ago, when Y/N heared the door opening to the now shared room. Heavy footsteps followed and she started to hold her breath. To her luck she was laying with her face to the door, away from the window. If she was honest to herself, she had hoped she would be left alone tonight. That Dean maybe would drink so much that he fell asleep in the dining hall. But it seems she was out of luck here.

He stumbled through the room, hitting his foot once or twice on the side of the bed. It was pretty cloudy so there was not much moonlight to illuminate the room. He kicked off his boots and it sounded like he sat down in the armchair near the window.

"Urgh... 'shouldn't have the last drink..." Dean slurred which was followed by a smacking sound.

The next thing she heard was fabric falling to the ground. That was it, right? Now it would happen. Her heart started to beat faster and when she felt the bed dip next to her, she tried to stay as still as possible. After a few seconds the room fell silent again. Only when she started to hear light snoring from behind her, she allowed herself to relax again and drift back to sleep.

The next thing that startled her awake was the warm feeling on her back. It had gotten cold in the room, it was still dark outside and she tried to lean in more into the warm feeling. The heavy arm that was laying over her middle hiked up a little higher, pressing her more to the warm chest.

Upon that realization Y/N opened abruptly her eyes, her heart starting to pick up speed again. But she was not the only one who was awake now. Dean started to kiss softly along her neckline and down to her shoulder. His lips touched her light as a feather and still it set her skin on fire. Then his scent hit her nose. He smelled like wood, whiskey and something warm.

What was she supposed to do now? Noone had really talked to her about every detail with this. What was expected from her and what she had to do. Dean's hands began slowly to explore her body. Careful and gentle. But as soon as his warm hand touched her bare leg she could not hold back a soft moan. His hands felt rough and a little calloused but still his touches were soft.

Dean layed one of his legs over hears so that she had to turn on her back. A little nervous again she did not look into his face. Yes, it was dark, but somehow she feared he would recognize her anyways. With soft fingertips on her cheek Dean turned her face towards him and touched her nose with his, before his lips landed on hers. This feeling was new and almost overwhelming.

On reflex she pressed her hands on his chest only to feel that he was not wearing any clothes. A thrill went through her veins and she let her hands wander over his firm, strong chest. Dean groaned softly and deepened the kiss. Surprised by his actions she opened her lips a little and the man waisted no time to let his tounge slip into her mouth. The only thing she could do was mimic his actions and it felt so good. She did not know if she was doing it right and if, Dean did not let it show.

Now Dean got more adventurous. He rolled on top of her, cageing her in with his arms and nestled between her legs. Y/N could feel something hard against her thigh and there was only one explanation what it could be. It made her feel funny between her legs and somehow it scared her a little. She broke from the kiss, taking deep breaths in and Dean seemed to sense the small change in her.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll be gentle. I promise."

Y/N did not really know what he meant by that and before she could really think about it, one of his hands made their way down between her legs. Oh god, he was about to feel that something was going on there. She tried to close er legs but it was nearly impossible with him laying in between and holding her legs apart with his own.

Another moan left her lips when his fingers touched her sex, massaging her heated core and rubbing soft circles over a certain point that made her feel even better. She began to buckle her hips a little and Dean hummed satisfied before he kissed her again.

His hand picked up speed and she started to feel something build up deep withhin her. She felt one of his fingers enter her but it did not hurt. It only intensified this feeling that had her thriving underneath him now.

"That's it. Yeah, let me feel you."

Dean whispered in her ear and then she couldn't hold it anymore. The sensation was just to much to handle, her moans had become louder and louder and it felt like a hot liquid poured through her body and made her shake, before she collapsed. Her chest was heaving and for a moment she did not understand what had happend just now.

Dean kissed down her jaw to her collarbone and sucked the skin into his mouth. Slowly she came down from this high, but her husband did not stop just there. His lips sucking in her skin distraced her enough before she felt the pressure against her entrance. This was it. This was consummating the marriage.

"Take a deep breath for me." and she did as Dean told her.

With one calculated thrust of his hips he was deep insight her. There was a small sting of pain that did not fade away so fast, but the pressure inside her was the one thing that she really had to get used to. Dean held still, his hands were stroking softly through her hair and when he felt her relax again, he started to move.

Slow at first, so that she had time to adjust to him but that did not take long. He picked up his pace and with every move it started to feel good again. The pain turned into something more and then the coil and pressure in her middle was there again. Now Dean moaned louder as well and she held onto his shoulders.

Just when Y/N thought she could not handle it anymore, she felt Dean's movements get a little out of rhythm and his breathing got heavier. And with his last poweful thrust he took her with him over the edge again while he spilled his hot seed deep insight her with a groan. His forehead landed on her shoulder and Y/N stroked a hand through his hair. Dean kissed her again slow and sloppy, before he rolled down from her and layed on his back.

The slight disappointment that settle in on her upon losing the skin to skin contact with the man she loved, did not surprise her. This was not how she had imagined it, it was better. It was to much and not enough at the same time. So she tried to relish in this bliss that she felt and turned on her sight to face him.

Exhaustion was pulling on her and it got harder and harder to stay awake. Eventually she gave in and closed her eyes with the feeling of an heavy arm on her hip that pulled her close again.

When she woke up the next morning she felt good. Tired and a little sore, but good. The sun was already high up and provided a little warmth. She opened her eyes and saw Dean's face first. He was still laying on his side and supported his head on his hand, looking down at her.

She smiled and was ready to greet him, when the memories flooded back into her conciousness. Her eyes widened in shock as she heard him talk.

"And who do we have here?"

A/N: It all went well until... it didn't. 🙈 The cat's out. What will happen next? Let me know what you think. Feedback is very much appreciated! 💜

@chriszgirl92 @elenasalvatore1 @laurensfangirlingsideblog @moonxlightsworld @muhahaha303

@stoneyggirl2 @ladysparkles78 @allthosepeopleilovetofangirlover @ninii-winchester @itsdesiree86

@foxyjwls007 @jtink27 @lyarr24 @k-slla @tommysaxes

@suckitands33 @pillowjj @hobby27 @mischiefnevermanaged89-blog @winchesterwild78

@monkey-d-hoshizora98 @aylacavebear @nikimisery @acid-spiderr @deangirl96

#rightfully deceived #midevial!au #spn #dean winchester x reader #scotish men #scotland #jensen ackles #dean x reader

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slasherscream · 10 months ago

Note

Can you do some more until dawn characters (yandere please) like you’re trying on clothes at the mall and ask their opinion?

YANDERE UNTIL DAWN CHARACTERS + READER IS TRYING ON CLOTHES

A/N: thank you for reading my until dawn content! it's such a small fandom these days, comments/reblogs/anon reviews/asks are appreciated as they let me know people are still reading these.

- Josh has an excellent eye for aesthetics. He may not know all the words/names for the types of clothes you look good in but he recognizes them right away. He’ll try and describe something you should get, give up, wander off, then come back with examples of what he meant while you’re in the dressing room. If the shopping trip is under four hours he can remain locked in the entire time. This is the strength of will and character that comes with being the big brother to two little sisters who got his driving license first. He’s spent entire lifetimes at the mall hyping up the twins. He knows what to do. Overall helpfulness: 8/10.

- Sam loves spending quality time with you. Quality time is one of her preferred love languages, in fact. She picks you up for your shopping day with your favorite coffee shop order in hand, from the best place in town. She’s good with little details like that. You can always count on her to give you her honest opinion on what you pick out. She’s gentle about it, but she’ll never let you wear something she thinks is unflattering. She’s also mindful of waste consumption. With Sam’s help you wind up picking things you love, are comfortable wearing, and that you’ll actually use. Not a penny wasted, no matter how much you spend. Overall helpfulness: 10/10.

- Chris could not possibly, in any version of reality, fix his mouth to give you a criticism about any of your choices. Let alone choices about how you will go about decorating your body. He’s lucky he gets to look at you. It’s an honor! Thank you for honoring him! Every time you step out of the dressing room you will get the exact same answer, very enthusiastically, in the same tone: “That looks GREAT, babe!” You’ll be ready to kill him thirty minutes in. Absolutely worthless feedback. You’ll have to get help from the salespeople who work there for opinions. If you want a ‘yes man’ this is your guy! Overall helpfulness: 3/10.

Hannah is another sap. She’s more helpful than Chris, but only by the slightest margin. If something doesn’t look good she’ll be able to stutter her way around to it…. eventually. She’s nearly petrified at the thought of upsetting you. Never-mind the fact that you’ve asked her how the top looks on you five times now. “Well…. I mean… how do YOU think it looks, Y/N?” As if you’d be asking if you could come up with an opinion yourself. You’ll wind up leaving with only a few items. You’ll have to come back with a friend in a few days. You may need a new wardrobe, but if you need help picking it out, you’ll need a different set of eyes. Overall helpfulness: 4/10.

- Emily is going to be honest to the point that, yes, it will hurt your feelings a little… if you’re lucky. Mileage may vary. If you’re particularly sensitive she’ll hurt your feelings a lot. But god forbid you start trying to take someone nicer shopping with you. She’ll throw the hissy fit of the century when she finds out. Yes, when, and not if. Emily manages to find out everything you try to keep from her. Everything. On one hand you’ll wind up looking the best you’ve ever looked. Your entire wardrobe suits you perfectly. She even buys/picks out things that you’ll like, in your style, even if she finds the style personally distasteful. That’s how much she loves you. It just has to suit you, or else she will say something, and the way she says it is never very nice. You’ll look incredible, but at what cost to your mental health? Overall helpfulness: 8/10.

- Mike isn't very enthusiastic about the activity, but likes the good boyfriend points it garners him. Thus, he will come along whenever you bid him to do so. He’s only got about two and a half hours of shopping in him though, so try and have an idea of what you want to get in your mind. Before you arrive at the stores, please. If you take a long lunch break he can go back for another two hours but this is his hard limit. Knows well enough what you already look good in. Or when something looks downright awful on you. He does struggle a little to help if you’re wanting to try a completely new style. He’s as lost as you. The more underground/alternative/particular the style you want to try is, the worse the advice gets. If you’re just doing a wardrobe refresher this is your man. Overall helpfulness: 6/10.

- Beth makes shopping relaxing. You’ll stay as long as you need in order to get everything you need. She probably had you make a Pinterest board before you guys went out so that you’d be able to refer back to it. She knows getting into the stores can wipe your mind clean of what you needed/wanted to get. She’ll have you guys stop for lunch as well, but then you’re right back at it! She likes seeing your style evolve and change. Her feedback is honest, but gentle. It won’t ever feel like a criticism of your body, just the clothing. You walk out satisfied and always happier than when you came in together. Overall helpfulness: 10/10.

- Jessica is in her element here. Honestly, Jessica drags you shopping with her more than you’ll ever drag her shopping. Spending time together means a lot to Jessica. She never takes it for granted. Thus, she always tries to make any activity, but especially repeat ones like shopping, fun. She probably has a shopping playlist she made for the two of you. You both wear one wireless earbud and get to movie montage with each other. Watch out if the Princess Diaries songs or something Hip-hop comes on, she’ll start dancing to make you laugh. Her feedback is upbeat and positive, but honest. She hypes you up like crazy when you come out wearing something that makes you look really hot! Wolf whistles and everything, your face will be burning up as you flee back into the safety of the dressing room. “Baby, come back! You look smoking!” Overall helpfulness: 9/10.

- Matt knows absolutely nothing about fashion. He tries his very best to help, but he’s at a loss. Only if something very obviously doesn’t suit you will he be able to veto it for you. “I dunno… maybe it’s a little awkward in the arms or…. something?” You’ll have to take a few breaths. However, if something looks good, he can absolutely be a hype man! His eyes light up, he takes your hand, makes you do a spin. All the attention is enough to make you kick your feet and giggle. He can compliment you all day long. To his credit, he can compliment you specifically enough on what looks good. Even if it’s still a little vague. “The color of this makes you look really… wow! You know?” You’ll be able to figure out he means jewel tones make your skin look glowy one of these days. For now, at least you know your boyfriend thinks you’re gorgeous no matter what you wear. Overall helpfulness: 5/10.

#josh washington x reader #mike munroe x reader #sam giddings x reader #emily davis x reader #matt taylor x reader #chris hartley x reader #beth #hannah washington x reader #jessica riley x reader #yandere until dawn #until dawn #until dawn imagines #josh wasington imagine #black!reader

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trippinsorrows · 4 months ago

Text

looking through your eyes + twenty two

authors note: this one may leave people a bit confused by certain things.....that's intentional.

cw/tw: fluff, angst, and smut

song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

masterlist +story playlist + taglist request form

words: 9k

“Nu uh!”

“Uh huh!”

“Nu uh!”

“Uh huh!”

“Girls.” To his credit, Roman does his best to not interfere or get involved in the midst of his girls arguing. He prefers letting them work it out among themselves, and they typically do. But, there are times, like this, where he just doesn’t have it in him to listen to their bickering. “Stop arguing.”

Lina is the expected one to protest, and she doesn’t disappoint or prove his prediction wrong. “But, daddy—”

“Lina, be nice to your sister.” He looks over at his other twin daughter. “Leya, you have to share.”

The quieter of the two looks less than pleased at his instruction and is clearly in one of her few talkative moods, protesting like her sister, “But, it’s mine, daddy.”

“It’s gonna be mine if ya’ll don’t stop fighting.” Rarely does he have to be strict with them, but they’ve both been on one all day, and Roman is going off barely four hours of sleep because their baby brother decided to make it one of those nights for his parents. “I’m not gon’ tell ya’ll again.”

A shared set of downward gazes followed by another shared ‘yes, sir’ leads to them both switching their attention from the tablet to one of their playthings in the backyard.

Roman runs his hand over his face as the backdoor opens, revealing Solana’s smiling but tired face. She’s operating off just as many fumes as she is.

“He finally go down?” She nods at his question, moving to sit on his lap, Roman wrapping his arms around her.

“Eventually.” She chuckles, placing her phone on the rattan chair next to them, Roman seeing the footage of the nursery showing their son sleeping. Finally. “Could be worse. Remember when we had to do it with the both of them?”

Roman offers a small smile. He certainly does. “He takes after his sisters.”

Solana’s smile dims a bit as she caresses his cheek. “You should go try to take a nap. I can watch them.”

That’s an immediate no. “I’m fine.” A default answer for him. He gestures to the now laughing twins, explaining, “especially since they seem to be in one of their moods.”

Solana frowns and then rolls her eyes. “Wonder where they get that from?” Giggling, Solana kisses his cheek and again tries to convince him to do what he’s absolutely not going to do. “Seriously, Ro, I can handle it. They tend to get like that sometimes when you’re out of town anyway.”

At that, he looks over at her. “Really?” She nods. “You want me to talk to them?” Cause as much as he loves his girls, he has never and will never put up with them disrespecting their mother. That will always be where he draws the line.

With anyone.

Solana shakes her head and instead moves to settle her head in the crook of his neck. “Let them just be kids.” Roman grows quiet, picking up on the underlying meaning to her statement. An agreement they both made with each other during her first pregnancy.

That they would give their kids the childhood they never had.

“They’re happy, baby.” Years of being together has allowed both husband and wife to practically learn and know each other like the back of their hand, which is why Solana is so easily able to hear Roman’s unspoken concerns. “We all are.”

Her words, like her mere presence and everything else about her, are comforting to Roman. He holds her a little tighter, lips gazing over her temple.

Solana, however, overhears the return of the argument between their twins, the sixth or seventh time this morning alone. And right as Roman goes to handle it, she shakes her head. “I’ve got it.”

Watching her walk away, Roman allows his gaze to linger on her a little longer. One thing for certain, two things for sure, Solana only gets finer with age. Three kids later, her already curvy body has filled out even more, giving him all the temptation and stripping him of all resolve whenever she tells him she’s ready for another baby.

He’s just counting the days for that request, already accepting the fact that it’ll only be a matter of time before she’s showing him the next sonogram.

It’s just a continuation of his inability to ever deny her of anything she wants.

Roman grabs his phone, hearing it vibrate. Most likely an update from—

“Roman!”

The phone is dropped, and Roman has never moved so quickly, shot up so fast as he sprints off in the direction where Solana went only to find there’s a vacant space, yard void of any and all items, play equipment, greenery, even the pool.

What remains is the girls sitting on their knees, on the dirt, a piece of clothing between the two of them, but it’s the red dampness of the clothing that makes his heart stop. That makes Roman go dangerously still.

Blood.

It’s blood.

Dropping to his knees, the girls are on either side of him, his voice is eerily calm as he asks, “where is she?” Unlike his tone, Roman is anything but calm. Every single vile, evil, violent thought is crossing his mind at just the thought of someone daring to hurt his wife.

To take her.

Leya sniffles to the left of him. “You have to save her, daddy.” His head snaps to her, confused by her words, confused by the fact that he’s not freaking out more, by the fact that he just somehow knows that Solana has been taken. “She won’t have much time.”

“Mommy can only fight with us for so long.” His attention switches to Lina, her comment leaving him just as perplexed as her twin. “You’re gonna have to trust them, daddy.”

“What?” He breathes. The weight on his chest is intensifying by the fucking second. “I don’t—”

“It’s the only way to save her.” Leyah reaches for his arm, her little mouth formed into a frown. “They’re gonna kill her if you don’t.”

His chest nearly explodes at that one word.

Kill

But, it's when the next statement that leaves their mouths, at the same time, that does him over.

“And they’re gonna kill us too.”

Roman shoots up from the bed, half expecting to find Solana startled awake by his sudden movement, only for him to snap his head to the right to see the normal rise and fall of her body as she continues to sleep. Peaceful. Content.

Alive.

Roman shuts his eyes and runs his hand through his wavy hair. What the fuck was that?

Taking advantage of the fact that she’s still asleep, Roman is careful with how he peels the blankets off of him. He grabs his phone off the nightstand and makes his way out the room. Down the hall and descending the steps, Roman finds placement outside on the patio, away from it all so he can try to make sense of what just occurred.

The dreams of what feels like some type of alternative reality have become the norm for him. He has them at least a couple times a week, and while he’s still not sure what to make of them, they haven’t really bothered him. Until now.

Because how can a dream–turned–nightmare in which his wife is taken and possibly worse not bother him? Not to mention the strange, almost foreboding warning of his fictional children.

Trust? Roman doesn’t do trust. Shit like that gets people killed in his world.

It has gotten people killed in his world.

But despite the heaviness of the latter half of the dream, there is one thing that Roman picked up on. That he has this weird almost sentimental reaction to.

Lina.

Leya.

This is the first time in any of the dreams that names for the girls were used.

There’s a strange sense of contentment he feels at the thought of it, a sense of clarity provided at no longer dreaming about two nameless children but two children, named and identified.

Lina and Leya

Pretty names. Roman can admit that, but they feel…..shortened. Like that’s only part of their names. Nicknames.

It makes him wonder what the full names are.

And before Roman realizes it, he’s grabbing his phone and opening up the notes app.

Lina Reigns

Leya Reigns

He’s not sure why he’s writing them down. He just knows that he wants to.

“Roman?”

Solana stands before him in one of his shirts, arms crossed over her body, a worried expression on her face.

She doesn’t wait for the usual invite, for Roman’s long arms to extend and settle her on top of his lap. She does that all on her own. Brown eyes searching his face, she pushes back some of his hair. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

His answer is more default than anything, not an intentional deflection but still one nonetheless. “Nothing. Just….can’t sleep.”

“Bullshit.” Solana cussing is such a new experience for him, Roman having to fight back a small smile at how innocent the profanity sounds leaving her mouth. Like it’s too lewd for someone so innocent to be stating. “Talk to me.” She shifts on his lap, asking in a gentle tone, “was it a bad dream?”

Bad is an understatement, but he’s not too keen on letting her know the depth of what it included. Nor does he necessarily want to reflect on it. “Something like that.”

“Roman…..” And right away, without her even needing to say it, he knows. Knows what she doesn’t need to say.

He’s not entirely ready to tell her the extent of these dreams, so he’s intentional with leaving out the not so little fact that it includes them having children and focuses on a part of this latest one. “It was about you.”

She looks taken back by that but still encourages him to continue, her fingers now moving to massage his scalp. “Go on.” But he’s certain that it’s when he looks away, when he focuses on the dark, almost obsidian night sky that obscures the forestry surrounding the house, he knows that she knows. “Oh….”

“Yeah.” Roman doesn't know what else to say. Doesn’t want to say anything else. He doesn’t even really want to fucking talk about this, wants to forget the damn ‘dream’ ever happened, wants to just go back to bed and try to get some fucking sleep.

But, that would be too easy, and rarely in his life are things ever easy.

“Roman, look at me.” Solana’s soft, caring tone pulls him from pessimistic cognitions. “Nothing’s going to happen to me, Ro,” she whispers, bringing her hand to his bearded chin, forcing his unsettled gaze on her. “I promise.”

He wishes that her words provided more comfort. There’s some level, just not a lot, because Roman has had his fair share of nightmares over the years. Most from after that night. Some…..some before. Some he’s never once spoken about and never plans to. Too…..too many bad, difficult, unmanageable emotions attached to them.

“You’re thinking a lot,” she whispers. The way she’s learned to read him so well feels almost too impossible to be true. He’s always prided himself on being an enigma, but with her? His inscrutable disposition melts away into something transparent and lucid.

He chuckles, but it’s void of any emotion. “I’m always thinking, Sol.” Always thinking. Always planning. Always strategizing. Just always in a state of always.

Solana shakes her head, gently protesting. “Not with me. I don’t….I don’t want you to think when you’re with me….just…..just be.”

Be.

Roman is unsure if he even knows what that is anymore.

If he ever did in the first place.

And he admits as such. “I don’t….I don’t know how to do that.” A strange, uncharacteristic admission from the man who always has everything together. Because he has to. Because he’s never been granted the space to not have to.

Solana ghosts her lips over his forehead, his eyes shutting as he holds her a little tighter. “Then we’ll learn together.”

________

Roman has a high sex drive. This is something Solana has always heard through the grapevine, among…..other things. But, her finding out about his sex drive is something she’s experienced herself. Is currently experiencing.

His large, strong hands remain placed and seated on her back, exploring her soft skin that has a soft sheen of sweat that’s built up from the exertion of her body. Her thighs ache a bit as does that sensitive space between her legs, both from the current stretch of him inside her as well as not being entirely recovered from their passionate lovemaking session just hours prior.

Truthfully, Solana hasn’t a clue just how she’s ended up engaged in intimacy yet again, possibly him needing a distraction of sort form his dream. But Roman occasionally sliding his hands to her hips, guiding her up and down, back and forth on his impressive length seems to be just enough, more than enough, to keep her hands on his shoulders, her fingers pressing into his skin, her teeth gnawing into her bottom lip to keep her from alerting his aunt and cousin just what they’re doing this fine early morning.

But, it’s that thought that has her trying to express said concern, to share the slight level of guilt she feels at doing this under his aunt’s roof. It feels almost….disrespectful? And maybe that’s too strong of a word. Regardless, she just has a feeling about it.

“Roman…..” Solana hates that his name on her lips is more carnal than anything, a moan, essentially. Far from what she needs. Still, she pushes through. “We—we can’t—”

His deep chuckle under her followed by another slight lift of her body as he continues to fill her, physically and figuratively, “can’t what?”

Damn. It’s so hard to resist the devil when he makes the sin feel this good. “Th—this.” She’s not sure she’s even making any sense right now. “It’s—disresp—shit.” Roman is forever adroit, knowing just what to do and how to do it, because one minute he’s licking his bottom lip, the next minute his mouth is latched onto her breast, sucking on her areola in a way that makes it exponentially more difficult to not scream her pleasure from here to kingdom come.

“Ro….” Her hand shifts to the back of his head, his soft, wave locks intertwined in her fingers as Solana manages to keep her steady pace rocking atop of him. He’s so deep inside of her, reaching her stomach it damn near feels like. “Oh my god.” Head thrown back from the erotic of it all, a deep chuckle leaves his talented mouth as he detaches and switches to kissing along the swell of her heavy breast.

“You really wanna deny me this?” His voice is both teasing and curious, hands massaging her sides, gently helping her continue to ride him. “Could watch you and this beautiful body ride me for the rest of fucking time….”

Solana seems to hone in on two words. Beautiful body. She still somewhat struggles to wrap her head around just how a man who looks like Roman could be so enamored with her physically. Even with all the scars, the cellulite, the stretch marks, the fat, he looks at her like she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

He makes her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. It’s overwhelming and fills her with so much love, Solana bringing her hands to his bearded face for a sensual kiss to express that love and adoration.

Kissing Roman is also moving its way up her list of favorite things to do. A list that almost entirely includes him, because as much as he indicates and even shares how he can’t get enough of her, she feels the absolute same way about him.

Roman deepens the kiss, Solana loving the feel of their chests pressed together, how he almost protectively clutches her close to him. They hold onto each other almost, so deeply entwined, two troubled souls who somehow found each other in the midst of chaos and sorrow. A joint healing of sorts.

Not even half an hour later, both having found their release, Solana lays on his chest, her fingers tracing the intricate patterns of the tattoos that’s etched onto his chest, one of her favorite things to do when they’re together like this. She loves everything about Roman, his body included, but his tattoos hold a special place for her. She knows it’s part of his cultural background, but a large part of her would guess that the placement was intentional. The ink on his arms to help shield bad memories, a night of unfathomable loss and trauma.

She knows what that’s like. Knows what it’s like to carry around those scars. Another area where they can relate, shared loss that they can find comfort for, in each other.

Eager for her spent body to be one with his, she moves even closer, a small smile on her face when he tugs her nearer and kisses the top of her head. His affection with her always adds yet another layer of safety and protection she feels with him.

Feelings she hasn’t had in forever. If ever.

“I wanna ask you something, but if it’s triggering for you, then we dead it, okay?” Solana is obviously taken back by his statement, and while there’s a small chunk of her nervous about what he’s about to ask, she doesn’t want to shut him down.

Eyes focused on the window beside the bed that unveils the rising sun and subsequent kaleidoscope of dawn colors that paint the sky, she answers, “okay.”

“How were you mentally on our wedding day?”

Solana frowns. That’s the last question she expected to leave his mouth, but the more she thinks about it, thinks about the worksheets Gail had told her she showed Roman, Solana can almost bet she recalls one of those questions asking about the last time she felt suicidal prior to her attempt.

And she’d answered honestly.

On her wedding day.

Something she’s almost certain he knows and is referring to. In a slightly indirect way. To avoid being too……raw. “Roman—” She doesn’t quite know how to address this, how to explain it in a way that makes sense to him but is also not too heavy for her. “I—there was just….there was a lot going on.”

“Because of me.” Her eyes shut. She hates the tone of his voice. Low and subdued. Like he feels guilty about something, like he did something wrong. “Because I sped everything up without actually giving you time to….” Roman takes a deep breath, and she opens her eyes to look up at him. “If I had known—“

Solana sits up and brings her hand to his face. “But—but you didn’t—” She wets her lips, hating that he seems to feel somehow responsible for years worth of trauma that brought her to that place mentally. Not him. “I—I struggled for years with those thoughts, and it was just…..it was a combination of things. I was scared and confused, but mostly because of the plan and what they wanted me to do. I hadn’t eaten in days. I just…..it wasn’t your fault.” She kisses him, lips hovering over his as she whispers, “at the time….it felt like the saddest day of my life, but—it was the best, Roman. I got you….and that’s all I need.” She moves to lay on top of him, burying her head in the crook of his neck. “Te amo, mi amor.”

He still sounds guilty. "But, it's not the wedding you deserved."

"I don't care about that, baby." She moves her hand to his arm, gently massaging up and down his bicep. “Roman, I don’t—I don’t want you worrying about me. I’m better, not all the way, but I’m safe, and I want you to focus on you.” And she means that with everything in her. He puts so much into everything else. It’s beyond time he shifts some of that focus onto himself.

“Solana—”

“I mean it,” she cuts him off, a hint of determination and borderline assertiveness present, something that takes them both by surprise. Truly. “Healing is…hard work, but it’s….it’s worth it. And you deserve it just as much as I do.” A thought crosses her mind, prompting her to share it with him. “Photography.”

He looks skeptical. “What about it?”

“I want you to start doing it more. You’re good at it, and it…..you looked happy doing it.” Because he is. Because there’s so many things that Roman is good at that he has to do. She wants him to have something that he gets to do.

“I was happy because I was with you,” he corrects. It’s kind but also not entirely true.

“It was more than that, Ro,” she counters softly. “If you want….you….you can take pictures of me.” In taking and sharing occasional selfies of herself while away from Roman, that discomfort has waned ever so slightly with having her picture taken. Enough to have her willing to be his muse, if that's what it takes.

Roman chuckles underneath her, his hand on the small of her back. “You know I can’t say no to you, right?” Solana giggles, pleased mostly at his less solemn tone, at his agreement, at what type of relief it could provide to him. Even if they both know it’s something that obviously can’t happen until she’s done with treatment. Regardless, it’s something, and that’s all that matters.

But, it’s when Solana settles back on top of him, head on his chest that she feels it. Feels his semi-hardened length against her, prompting her to gasp.

They just….

Confused, she looks at him, brows furrowed. “How are you……do—do you have an addiction?”

Roman’s laugh is deep and makes her smile. A rarity but one she hopes to one day to increase the frequency of. “To sex? Shit, maybe.” She’d say definitely given the fact that they’ve already gone three rounds, and yet he’s still looking at her like that. “To you?” Solana’s breath is sharp as he carefully switches their position so that he’s hovering over her. “Absolutely.”

“Roman….” His mouth is already on the move, trailing down and in between the valley of her breast. “I’m—I’m sore.” And this time, it’s to the point where she can’t afford to bypass it, to push past it, even if there’s a small part of her that isn’t entirely opposed. That feels an almost…..excitement at being with him again in that way.

Even if it will be the fourth time in less than 24hrs. Not even 12.

“I know.” And yet as he continues downward, Solana realizes he already knows this and is well aware of this fact. Hence him desiring an equally desirable alternative. “But, it’s like you said, baby….” She moans when he braces his big hands on her hips, his mouth kissing her inner thighs, thick fingers separating her swollen, tender lower lips. “I’m addicted.”

________

By the time Solana convinces Roman that they can’t spend the rest of the day locked in his bedroom, thrusted in the throes of sweet intimacy, it’s nearing 11am, and Fetu and Ava have already consumed their breakfast, discussing what they’ll have for lunch.

Solana walks in first, wearing a warm smile aimed toward the two women, one of which she’s now seeing for the first time.

Ava stands up from the kitchen table and walks over with a small smirk. “My cousin finally got off you, huh?”

Roman rolls his eyes, muttering, “fuck off, Ava.”

Solana blushes. Ava is tall, only a few inches shorter than Roman with a thin build but soft curves. Her onyx black hair is shoulder length, and her smile and brown eyes give away her kinship to Roman. Even Fetu. They all look related.

“It’s—umm, nice to meet you.” Solana is taken back a bit when Ava hugs her. It’s so interesting to her how the women in Roman’s family are so physically affectionate. It seems almost ironic given just who their family is. The way the word Bloodline strikes fear in the hearts of even the strongest. “I’m Sol—”

“Solana,” Ava laughs, stepping back. “I know. Heard a lot about you, and like I said last night, I’m sorry you got stuck marrying big ears over here.”

Roman is quick with it, retorting back before he downs the coffee he just brewed, “not as big as that big ass forehead.”

“Children. Literal children.” Fetu shakes her head, looking over at Solana. “Do you see what I have to deal with? Why I need you Solana?” She gestures with her thumb, “if this damn disease doesn’t kill me first, Dopey and Tyra Banks over here damn sure will.”

At that, both Roman and Ava look slightly irritated. “Don’t talk like that, Uso o le tinā.” She glares at Roman, lifting up her middle finger to flip him off. “Who else is going to keep me from killing our Tribal Chief?”

Roman scoffs, big shoulders lifting as he shakes his head. He sounds and looks so amused at just the thought of it. “You can certainly try.”

Ava sucks her teeth, angling her body towards him. “Don’t tempt me, asshole.”

Roman smirks, looking at her over his mug. “You know I love a good fight.”

“I’m about to kill both of you if you don’t shut the hell up!” Fetu snaps, Solana looking over to see she’s holding her slipper in her hand. “Embarrassing me in front of my friend, sweet Solana.”

“It’s—it’s okay,” Solana cuts in, unable to contain her smile. She’s not used to seeing Roman like this, so…..relaxed, almost…..almost like he’s at peace. She likes it.

She likes it a lot.

“It is not.” Fetu drops her slipper back on the ground, shaking her head. “Since both of you have so much to say and clearly energy to expel, you can handle the wood in the back that needs to be chopped up?” Solana’s confusion must be evident as Fetu gestures to the living room. “Wood burning fireplace. I don’t like that new shit.”

“You mean the safest shit?” Roman mutters.

Ava shakes her head, whispering to Solana. “Our aunt can be a little……old fashioned.” Solana says nothing, seeing no issue. With everything she’s been through, she truly deserves whatever she wants, in Solana’s opinion. “Roman’s been trying to convince her to let him replace it with an electric one for years.”

“And my answer will keep being no!” Fetu calls out, clearly eavesdropping. “Now, I mean it, I want that wood chopped. Both of you.”

Roman scowls. “I don’t need her help.”

Ava glares in his direction. “And I don’t need help from Samoan He-Man over here.”

“I–I thought you guys actually liked each other?” Solana intended to keep that in her head, but it somehow bypassed her speech defenses. Immediately, she feels bad, going the recompense route. “I didn’t mean—”

“They do,” Fetu answers, sharing. “It depends on the day. Today is just clearly not one of those days.” She plasters on a sickeningly sweet smile. “Now get to it, before I embarrass both of you.”

It’s slightly comical to Solana how both people, formidable in their own right, fold so easily at the direction of this older woman. Solana goes to fix her late breakfast along with Roman, the two sharing it at the table along with Ava and Fetu until it's time for them to depart and get started on their joint task.

That leaves Solana with Fetu, a wonderful arrangement because it allows her time to get to know the woman who means so much to Roman better.

And that is done in a way Solana didn't expect, because she ends up in Fetu’s room, a large bin that Solana pulled from her closet exposing a world of welcomed surprises.

Solana is overcome with an abundance of photos, a mixture of dated polaroids' and the type of photos one got developed at a kiosk or drugstore back in the day. She’d like to say that they’re photos of smiling, happy faces, but that would be a lie. Many of them are clearly of people taken off guard by a camera in their face.

One in particular captures her attention, Solana reaching for the polaroid that shows a tall, handsome man. Sharp facial features with an almost stoic expression. Familiar. Very familiar.

“Is this…..”

Fetu chuckles, nodding, “it is.” There’s a sadness both in her gaze as well as her voice. “He looks so much like him….”

Solana swallows. She agrees. Roman shares a striking resemblance with his father. It makes her wonder if they have similar personalities as well, but another photo steals her focus. A tiny gasp leaves her mouth as a small smile grows. “That’s—”

Fetu also laughs, nodding and reaching for the photo, handing it to Solana. “You can tell by the big ears.” Solana giggles, holding the photo and staring with borderline amazement at Roman when he was a boy. He couldn’t have been more than 6 or 7 years old, so young, so innocent looking, but she knows better. Knows that his smile in the photo was probably short lived.

“I had taken him and the twins to the water park. They had so much fun that day.” One glance at Fetu, and Solana can see she’s reflecting back and mentally reliving that day. “I did my best to give him as much of a normal childhood as possible.”

Solana is quiet, her own sadness seeping in at the depressing reality that as much as she didn’t have much of a childhood, neither did he.

He never stood a chance.

“Look at this one.” Fetu reaches her another photo. It’s Roman, but it doesn’t look like him. It’s of him as a child, looking far too serious for a boy no more than 8 or 9 years–old.

Studying the photo a bit more, Solana shares with all honesty, “he looks…..little?”

Fetu laughs. “Because he was.” Solana gasps quietly, as the woman explains. “Believe it or not, that big, strong husband of yours was the runt of his siblings. He was small for his age, and it always bothered him.” Solana has a hard time conceptualizing any part of roman being small. Fetu's lips slip into a small, forlorn smile. “I always knew he would be something special. I just—I wish it could have happened differently.”

Solana says nothing, already knowing what she’s referring to. What she doesn’t need to say. “He’s…..he’s a good man.”

“He’s a better man with you.” Fetu places a comforting hand on Solana’s knee. “You are good for him, child, and I think he’s good for you too.”

“He’s the best,” Solana murmurs, emotion building at just the thought of the man who’s completely changed her life around. For the better. “He’s—he’s everything to me.”

And even that is putting it lightly, fails to fully encapsulate just what Roman means to her. What he is to her.

Fetu’s grin shifts into something appreciative. “You know….I always prayed he would find someone before I closed my eyes. Someone he could love and who would love him back the way he deserves. The way anyone deserves.” Solana’s stomach coils a bit, a strange foreboding sense coming over her. “You’ve given this old woman a tremendous amount of peace, and for that, Solana, I cannot thank you enough.”

It’s been relatively easy to pick up on how close Roman is to his aunt, largely due to his own vulnerable worlds. She’s the closest thing he has left of a mother, and the thought of her no longer being here….

No.

Roman can’t lose anyone else.

Especially Fetu.

“Solana.” Pulled from her thoughts, Solana looks down to see that Fetu has moved their hands so that Solana’s palm is outstretched. “I need you to do something for me, but I need it to stay between us for now.”

And just like that, goosebumps sprout all across her arms. “You—you don’t want me to tell Roman?”

Fetu shakes her head, Solana looking down when she places a white, sealed envelope in her hand. “I need you to give this to him when the time is right.”

Questions. Solana is full of them. What is contained within this envelope, and why is Fetu giving it to her and not Roman? And why can’t he know? Just so many questions, but for some reason, Solana can only settle on one to ask.

“How—how will I know when the time is right?”

There’s despondency in the older woman’s eyes that contrasts her smile. “You will.”

Something about this rubs Solana the wrong way, and not in a bad manner, per se. Just something very heavy. Very sad. “Fetu, what—”

“Enough of all this sentimental shit.” Fetu clears her throat and wipes at her eyes, changing subjects as she goes on about something Solana can only partially pay attention to. There’s a bit of envy there. Envy at how she can carry on like nothing just happened.

If only Solana could do the same.

________

The conversation with Fetu is something that weighs heavy on her chest, something she wants to inquire more about from her husband’s aunt but knows won’t give her the answers she’s looking for. It’s why the younger woman is grateful for a brief respite, one that she hopes will serve as a much needed distraction.

Solana settles herself onto the chair outside, looking over her shoulder to make sure the door is closed.

She props the phone up against the back of the chair and adjusts her top just as the screen fills with smiling faces.

“Solana!” She smiles at Mickie’s excited greeting. “Oh my god, I told them he didn’t kidnap you!”

Solana giggles and shakes her head, frowning a bit as she explains, “no, I’m—I’m sorry. We….we had to leave suddenly.” That’s a nice way to put it. To refer to the way that Roman escorted and signed her out of the facility without her having a chance to explain to her newfound friends what was going on.

And unlike herself, Mickie, Cam, and Melina don’t have mafia head husbands who are allowed to break and stretch the rules for her the way Roman does. So they don’t have their phones at all times with unlimited and unmonitored usage.

It’s why Solana has made the active effort to break away and call them during the slot of time she knows they’re allowed phone time.

Melina moves into the frame of the phone camera asking, “are you okay?”

An easy answer. “I am now.” Because had they asked just slightly over twenty-four hours ago, her answer would have been very different. “Just needed to handle something, but I’ll be back sometime tomorrow afternoon.” Roman shared they would have to get on the road tomorrow morning, something she could tell he wasn’t happy about. He clearly enjoys being here. Enjoys the freedom here. It’s a palpable thing, and she loves it. She loves seeing how at peace he seems in this safe space.

“Good,” Melina nods, clearly pleased by this. She smirks, “we miss you.”

Cam scoots closer so she can share, “it’s boring without our residential artsy bae.”

Mickie gasps, snatching the phone, sharing with an excited tone, “And Paxley had a total breakdown, ripped the head off her dolls and everything. Apparently her girlfriend broke up with her.” It’s clear she’s trying to hold back an amused smile. “It was actually kind of funny.”

Cam sucks her teeth and shoves the woman next to her. “Mickie, please.” She directs her focus back to Solana, adding, “Dr. S had to have her sedated and everything.”

Solan frowns. She knows what that’s like and wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Melina snatches the phone away, expression shifting into something almost concerned. “You’re gonna finish out the program, right?”

“I am.” It’s something Solana has actually thought about since Roman’s confession. She hates that he’s been struggling, but what she hates even more is that she hasn’t and won’t be home to help him in the way that he deserves. Maybe even needs. But, she also knows that she’s not exactly where she would like to be yet. Getting there. But not yet.

And she wants to be at her best when she comes home. Roman deserves that much. But, so does she.

So, as much as a part of her would like to come home now, she knows that what is best is ultimately her finishing out her treatment.

Melina looks relieved, offering a small smile. “Good.”

Solana picks up on it, the unspoken thing hidden behind her question. “What is it?”

And the frown is back, Melina sharing in a solemn tone, “there…..there are whispers that the facility is shutting down at the end of the year. Something about lack of funding.”

‘What?” Solana didn’t know what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t that. “But—but it….what about….what about people who need help?”

Cam scoffs, almost bitterly. “Three steps forward. Eight steps back.” Solana feels for her the most. She knows this is the second time Cameron has entered residential treatment at the very facility where the four women seem to be finding so much healing.

Mickie shrugs. “There are other treatment places…..none that are reasonably close and for women only.” Solana winces at that, at the almost bitterness that laces her tone at the end of the sentence. Being in a place to heal surrounded by women only truly makes the biggest difference when tackling sexual trauma.

Trauma caused by men.

“I heard Dr. Stratus is seeing if she can get another grant or investor, but….” Cam shakes her head. “I don’t think we should hold our breath.”

Melina rolls her eyes. “Especially with how much money she probably needs to keep this place running. Has to be in the millions.” She smirks, sarcastically remarking, “and you know investors are just dying to put all their sweet money into a bunch of unstable bitches.”

Solana’s frown deepens. She wasn’t expecting to hear this news. Definitely didn’t expect it to have her heart feel so heavy at this update. It almost seems silly, like she shouldn’t be so sad about a place closing that she only ever heard about a month ago, that she plans to never once again visit and be entered into.

It was a one time program that’s clearly serving its purpose.

And maybe that’s the thing that makes her sad. To know how helpful its been for her, a type of healing occurring she never thought possible. Healing that she knows so many more people need and will need. So many women.

Melina manages a grin that doesn’t meet her eyes. “Well, we started this together, at least we’ll get to finish it together.” And Solana gets it, understands why Melina wanted to see if she’s coming back. Because if this is the last time they’re all in the same setting, as strange a setting as it is, she wants it to be something they can do together.

“And we can still connect once we’re out of the hammer,” Mickie suggests with the biggest, brightest smile, “assuming we don’t get locked up again.”

Solana can’t help but to laugh. Mickie is a hoot, but she never fails to put a smile on her face.

They all do.

And in some strange connection that she doesn’t quite understand, the smile and sisterhood of it all, it brings about a thought, spurs an idea that she otherwise would never consider. It’s a massive ask, much beyond a favor, the biggest and grandest thing she could ever ask for.

And yet she’s going to do it.

Going to ask it.

Going to ask him.

________

“Get the hell away from me!”

It’s the first thing Solana hears when her eyes snap open. The second thing she notices is the absence of a set of strong arms around her or the equally strong chest she was laying her head on when she fell asleep. Confused, Solana rubs at her eyes and tenses at the next sound to make its way to her hearing.

“Go away!”

It’s this second time around that Solana realizes she recognizes the voice, and it has her hopping out of bed and heading for the door.

“Uso o le tinā, please, it’s me, Ava and Roman—” Solan’s concern grows to match her confusion as she follows the source of the voices, having a good idea of what's happening without even needing to see it. “Just let us—”

“I don’t know who you are! Help!”

Solana finds the three of them in the living room, the sight similar to what she had already guesstimated. Ava and Roman are on opposite sides, both wearing pained, concerned expressions, focused on Fetu who’s in the middle of the room, in her robe, crying, a knife in her hand, arm stretched out toward them. However, Solana focuses on the red liquid pooling on the handle of the knife. Fetu is cut, most likely a self-caused injury when she went for the knife.

Solana’s stomach drops. She’s clearly in the midst of an episode, unaware of who she is, who they are. And it breaks her heart. The amount of pure fear and terror in her face toward the two people who would no doubt lay down their lives for her.

Solana takes a step forward, and Fetu’s frantic eyes land on her, shifting into something almost relieved. “Please—you can help me!”

Roman is the first to pull his attention away from Fetu, focusing on Solana who can so clearly see the distress in his eyes. How difficult this situation has to be, to see her like this and not be able to do anything.

He reaches his arm, clearly trying to keep her back. “Sol, go back—”

“No!” Fetu cries out, bringing both husband and wife’s gaze onto her. Solana swallows as Fetu begins to cry again, shaking finger pointing back and forth between Roman and Ava. “They—they want to take me!” Her crying intensifies, Solana slowly starting to make her way toward the older woman, ignoring Roman’s subtle attempt to keep her away. “Please—please don’t let them hurt me.”

Fetu’s pleading breaks Solana’s heart and would bring tears to her own eyes if not for the fact that she’s focused solely on the scene before her. “I—I’ll help you, okay?” Solana doesn’t take her eyes off Fetu, mindful of any sudden action she could take, movement that could potentially and unintentionally injure her. “I’m—I’m Solana.” She introduces, offering a warm smile when she’s closer, very much aware of Roman and Ava whose eyes are burning into her back. “Can you—can you tell me your name?”

Fetu seems to try to think for a moment, her face painted in terror, only to shake her head. “I—I can’t.”

“It’s okay,” Solana immediately reassures, tensing a bit when she feels movement behind her, Ava and Roman trying again to approach, which only prompts her to hurriedly wave her arm to shoo them back. To tell them to leave without actually telling them to leave. “Well, I’m gonna help you, okay?”

She understands they just want to help, but their attempts to help will only exacerbate the situation. Fetu doesn’t recognize them, sees them as threats. But for herself, that is not the case. Thus, Solana needs them away to deescalate the situation.

Solana is relieved when she’s finally able to stand directly in front of Fetu, gently reaching to move some hair out of her face. “It’s okay. You can trust me. I won’t hurt you.” The words seem to be registering, Solana gesturing to Fetu’s cut hand. “Looks like you hurt yourself.” She smiles warmly, gently, and patiently. “How about I clean that up for you and then maybe we can have some tea? Hmm?”

Standing in front of Fetu, obscuring her vision of the niece and nephew her disease has her convinced are strangers, Solana briefly turns around, catching both of their gazes. “Go.” She mouths it, eyes pleading in a way her voice cannot. “I’ve got her.”

Both look torn, Roman especially, but when Fetu drops the knife and reaches for Solana’s arm, clutching tightly, both indifferent to the blood that’s now stained on Solana’s skin, it seems to send a message that she is very much in good hands.

Solana gives the cousins a nod and refocuses her attention on the elder woman. “It’s okay,” she comforts, offering a warm smile as she moves her arm around her, pleased to see that the other two have left.

It’s for the best.

Solana is able to escort her into the kitchen and pacify her enough to get her seated at the kitchen table while she pulls out the medical kit under the kitchen sink.

“Jealous.” Solana turns around, necessarily supplies in hand as she faces Fetu. “I—I told Nakoa we couldn’t trust him.” The next fit of crying returns as she shakes her head, injured hand formed into a fist that she hits on her thigh repeatedly. “I told him!”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Solana drops to her knees in front of Fetu, placing the supplies on the floor as she reaches for her hand, trying to stop her from further injuring herself. “It’s okay. I know—I know you did.”

Solana, in fact does not know, has no idea who this Nakoa person is nor the other unnamed man. Nor does she necessarily care very much right now to know. She just knows that her number one priority is keeping Roman’s aunt as calm and stable in this position as possible.

“He was…..he was jealous. Always jealous.”

“I know.” Solana nods, determined to not invalidate her, even if she’s making no sense. “Is it okay if I wrap up your hand?”

Fetu seems to take a second to think about it, eventually nodding. “Y–yes.”

Pleased at this acquiescence, Solana finds herself humming and singing softly as she works to clean, disinfect, and tend to Fetu’s wound. Fetu, who, in a much calmer voice comments, “you—you have a pretty voice.”

Solana’s smile is warm. “Thank you.” She’s happy it worked, worked to settle some of Fetu’s fear and anxiety. “My mother used to sing me to sleep.”

“Your…..mother……” Her voice is distant, as if she’s trying to put the pieces together. “I—I was never a…..mother.” She swallows, opening and closing her mouth a couple times before she speaks again. “Are you—are you a mother?”

A question she’s been asked twice now. Each time bringing up a sense of sadness. “N—n–not yet.”

Fetu makes a sound, head tilting a bit as Solana clears her throat of the emotion that’s suddenly built up. “You will be.” The younger woman stills, lifting her eyes to meet those of Fetu’s that suddenly seem so knowing and insightful. “Nakoa….he…..he will be a good dad.”

Again, Solana is confused and suddenly a bit more curious about who this person is. And what connection he has, or Fetu thinks, he has to her. Regardless, she just continues to work seamlessly transitioning into her next task, fixing the older woman a warm cup of tea.

Solana sits silently in the chair next to Fetu, stifling a yawn as she catches a glance at the time on the microwave. 4:45am.

Her mind gravitates to Roman and Ava. Ava more than Roman. How often does she have to deal with these sorts of episodes? Roman as well, but with Ava living here with Fetu, surely, she has to face them more.

It makes her heart heavy.

And it stays that way even as Fetu finishes her tea and asks to go “lay down.” Solana holds her arm, carefully helping her up the stairs and into her bedroom. She’s pleased when Fetu asks her to braid her hair for her, Solana feeling a sense of nostalgia, reminiscing on times when she was younger and her mother would braid her hair before bed.

Some of her fondest memories with her mom.

Solana is helping Fetu get settled in bed when the older woman asks in an almost childlike voice. “Will you—will you stay with me until…..until I fall asleep?”

“Of course.” Gently caressing her forehead, she gives a comforting smile and moves to grab the chair against the closest wall. Dragging it to the side of the bed, Solana has barely sat down when Fetu reaches for Solana’s arm, her mouth shifting back and forth from a smile and frown as she clearly struggles to verbalize whatever she wants to say. “Promise me…..promise me you’ll look out for him.” Solana herself is frowning, confused by just what she’s asking. “Promise me you’ll stay with Nakoa.”

That name again. It confuses her just as much as it did the last time it was used.

Fetu continues, shaking her head. “I can’t—I can’t walk out the door without—without knowing he’ll be okay.” There’s something about her statement and the one that follows that makes it click for Solana. That helps her to realize who Nakoa really is. “I—I left him all alone o–once. I—I can’t do it again.”

Roman

Fetu is talking about Roman and something else that Solana can’t even bring herself to verbalize, the thought itself devastating enough.

“I’m not going to leave him,” Solana vows, taking Fetu’s hand in hers, conjoining them. “And neither are you.” Tears fill her eyes as she reiterates, “he needs both of us.” Because he does. Solana knows and believes that with everything in her. The humanity and kindness Roman still holds is solely because of the woman before her. Solana has just so happened to build upon it. “And besides….you’ve gotta be here when we finally have a child. You’re…..you’re the closest thing he or she will have to a grandmother.”

Because it’s true. Because Solana wants her and Roman’s child to have the loving, supportive family that both of them were deprived of, and for more than just a short period of their life. It’s another vow on her part.

To do better.

To be better.

“A child…..” Fetu trails off, loosening her grip on Solana’s arm, settling hers at the side of her body. “Yes….soon….soon.”

Solana can’t take her gaze away from Fetu, studying her face from the moment her eyes flutter shut to when the steady rise and fall of her chest indicates a much deserved peaceful sleep. Solana is absolutely prepared to stay in that chair the entire night, by Fetu’s side, no protest whatsoever.

But, it’s not even forty five minutes into Fetu’s slumber that the bedroom door is slowly opened, Ava clearly checking that her aunt is sleep before she walks in and kneels at Solana’s side. “You can go. I’ll—I’ll stay with her.”

Solana looks at the woman, the red, puffy eyes that she knows all too well. She shakes her head, placing a hand on her shoulder. “No. You….you get some sleep. I don’t mind.”

Ava makes a sound, her nose turning up ever so slightly. She’s staring at Fetu. “It’s so—it’s hard seeing her like this, ya know? I—I just want to help, but I can’t—” Solana shakes her head, as Ava closes her eyes, clearly trying to hold back tears. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Again, Solana knows grief and heartache better than anyone. “She loves you. And in her heart, she knows who you are….she always will.”

Ava is visibly moved by the kind words, nodding and wiping at her eyes. “Thank you, Solana.” She sniffles, laughing with a small scoff. “You’re way too good for him.” Solana smiles. Not a chance. “Please….I’d prefer to sit with her, if….if that’s okay?”

Solana has no room or place to deny Ava anything, especially this. She just didn’t want her to feel like she had to. But hearing her reason, she’s more than happy to get up. “Of course.”

Solana is by the door when she stops and calls out Ava’s name, waiting for the woman to look at her as she asks, “who—who was Nakoa?”

Ava’s shoulders drop, the change in her disposition evident as she answers in a sad tone. “That was my uncle......Roman’s dad.”

Solana’s eyes shut, her mind gravitating back to the picture she saw just earlier today. Of course. Nodding, she reminds, “if you need anything—”

“I know.”

A final shared smile among the women, and Solana quietly closes the door. Making her way back to Roman’s bedroom, she half expects to find him up, pacing, wearing a hole into the floor. She instead is met with the complete opposite: room dark and Roman’s big body sprawled across the bed. He’s on his back, laying on top of the blankets. It’s obvious he fell asleep while doing that waiting she correctly called before even entering the room.

Shutting the door, Solana moves over to the bed, careful movements helping her position her body so she’s tucked next to him. Her arm over his stomach, and her head on his chest.

Despite her carefulness, it’s not even a full two minutes before he’s stirred awake.

“Shhh. It’s just me.” She whispers, kissing his bearded jaw. Even in the darkness of the room, she can still slightly make out his features as he looks down at her.

“Fuck.” His voice is deep with the slumber he so desperately needs so much more of. “I must have fallen asleep.”

“Good. You need that.” He’s been nonstop the past couple days, not to mention the fact that they have to be up in a couple hours to get back on the road. Solana makes a quick mental note to see if he’ll let her drive back. Even if just for a portion. “Go back to sle—”

“Fetu—”

Solana feels his body tense underneath her, prompting her to soothingly move her hand across his abdomen. “She’s okay now. Sleep. Ava is sitting with her.”

He says nothing, but she watches the way he lets his head fall back against the mattress. “I’m—I’m sorry you had to see that. I didn’t—”

“I’m not.” Because she’s not. And truth be told, what occurred tonight rests devastatingly low on the list of worst things she’s ever experienced. “I’m glad I could help her. Help you guys.”

Roman hesitates before asking in a thick voice. “How did you….”

“My mom worked at a nursing home when she was in medical school. She used to tell me about her patients with Alzheimer's. How she had to help them. She used to write about it in her journals too.” Not to mention random information Solana has read and learned over the years in her vast pursuit of acquiring medical knowledge after being denied the chance to go to college and pursue her nursing dreams. “She just….she needed to feel safe. I know what that’s like.”

Again, Roman is silent for a couple minutes, Solana eventually feeling him tug her closer, her eyes shutting when he kisses her forehead.

“Thank you.” There’s so much held behind those two words, an immense amount of appreciation and love that’s felt on such a palpable level. “I love you.”

She could never tire of hearing him say that. Ever. “I love you, too.”

Today was a lot, in so many different ways, Solana feeling perplexed by the many happenings. The letter from Fetu. Fetu’s maybe incoherent, or not so incoherent, warning about someone being jealous. Her almost ominous way of speaking about herself, about her future.

It was just…..a lot.

And Solana knows there’s so much to digest and try to make sense of. Just not tonight.

Tonight she just wants to fall asleep in the arms of her husband.

Tomorrow, and whatever it entails, can come later.

#roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns oneshot #roman reigns fanfic #arisnotebook

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zriasstuff · 1 year ago

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First impressions—Lorenzo Berkshire x reader

Lorenzo Berkshire behaves like the perfect gentleman towards you, but what’s underneath that perfect facade? First impressions don’t last forever…

go to pt.2—> Second chances?

“Look, this one’s sooo pretty!”, your friend Jenny on your right hand side squealed excitedly.

“Oh my god, I have to get this dress”, Anya, your other friend, gushed while already holding five different ones in her hands.

You were also roaming through the countless racks, searching for a new and mature looking dress. In Hogsmeade, a new boutique had just opened and soon enough all the girls stormed inside to get the most beautiful pieces.

Inside the boutique everything was laced with delicacy, elegance and maturity. Three things you wanted more than anything to be a part of yourself. It was about time that you changed your appearance and became a young woman. After all, you were in your fifth year at Hogwarts already.

Not being able to decide between all the gorgeous clothing pieces you picked up, you took all ten of them to try on. Ten was definitely too many though, so some would have to be eliminated. The trying on process sadly didn’t do much for you, you still loved every single piece. Eventually, you come out of the fitting room, upset due to your inability to decide.

“Just buy all of them then”, Anya encourages you, “if you don’t they’ll be sold out and you will never get to try them on again”

That was easy for her to say. She was born into generational wealth and could buy all the clothes, or anything at all, that she fancied. On the other hand, you couldn’t just take home whatever you pleased. Still, you felt lucky that you had the money to buy one or two, so you eyed each piece you grabbed carefully.

“Ugh, they all would look so beautiful on me”, you groan, not wanting to give up even one of them.

When you turn around again to get your friends’ advice, they are nowhere to be seen.

Scanning the area for them, you unexpectedly make eye contact with someone who seemed to have been eying you. You stop looking for your friends, and take a moment to glance into this mysterious persons piercing blue eyes, perhaps for a little too long. He, whoever he was, appears to have taken an interest and started inching towards you.

Suddenly, after not having been able to place him, you recognize who he was. He was one of the guys who always hung around Draco Malfoy, who was a year above you. Even though you were in the same house, you have barely even made contact.

“You’re right”, he approaches you, looking you up and down.

“About what?”, you ask, finding it strange why one would approach you in this way. And as a guy, why would he be in this particular boutique. Was he perhaps shopping for his girlfriend or sister, you wonder.

“They would all indeed look very beautiful on you”, he compliments you charmingly, towering over you, a warm smile on his face as he said that. Sounds like he overheard your little dilemma. Surprised that he was so straight forward, you feel your cheeks heating up a little. While you’re smiling nervously, you manage to mumble out a thank you.

“It would be such a shame, if you had to leave them here”, this guy, whose name didn't even come to your mind, continued the sudden conversation. This guy surely had something planned, with the way he was leading it.

“Yeah, sometimes I wish I could just go shopping limitlessly”, you truthfully admit.

“So what’s your name, darling?”

“Y/n”, you answer while a thousand thoughts circled your mind. Such as how you managed to have caught the attention of this gorgeous, older guy— he surely must’ve approached you because he found you pretty right? And he just called you “darling” in such a heartwarming tone.

You didn’t like where your mind was wandering. All those thoughts, simply because a guy paid you the slightest amount of attention.

How long has it been since a guy had shown the slightest interest in you again? As if the exact time mattered, it had been too long anyway. You start doubting that you were maybe reading too much into his behavior—that your feelings were the ones of a silly little girl who just received some candy. So he called you darling, that doesn’t have to mean anything.

“Pretty”, he notes, “I’m Lorenzo by the way, but you can call me Enzo”.

Alright, you rethink, surely you weren’t reading too much into it. He just complimented you again, the second time within five minutes.

“May I?”, he gently asks, disrupting your small talk. Before you could even respond, he takes the clothes out of your hands. You weren’t sure what to make of this, so you threw him a questioning look. “Let me”, he says, afterwards smoothly grabbing your hand. “Let me what?”, you try to understand his behavior as you’re being led by him.

“Let me spoil you with what you deserve”, he responds so genuinely, but also as if it was the most natural thing in the world. You couldn’t even believe it. He had to be an angel fallen from heaven, with the way he was treating you.

This Enzo, whom you just properly met, was willing to spoil you like a literal princess. This is what teenage romance that your favorite authors write about must feel like.

“Are you kidding?”, you ask in utter disbelief. Not that you were complaining, but it simply felt too unreal, that someone would do this for you without even knowing you.

At the counter, you finally catch your friends, who have become victims of a giggle attack. They kept pointing their fingers at Enzo, maybe demanding some sort of explanation, but you yourself didn’t even know what to make of this.

All you knew was that within the next five minutes, he had paid for all ten pieces you picked out and was carrying the bags for you, like a true gentleman.

“I don’t even know how to thank you for this”, you tell him at the exit of the store, hoping he wouldn’t regret what he just did. What if he demanded you to reimburse him? No, he wouldn’t do that right?

“You wearing one of those would be enough of a thank you.” You can’t help but blush at his words, not believing your luck, that you met a guy this sweet. He was truly everything a girl could ask for.

Generous, handsome, tall, and caring—the whole package.

You saw your friends waving you over to them, so you excuse yourself. As he hands you the bags, his hand lingers on yours for a moment, before you let go and go over to your friends.

On your way you hear Enzo’s voice, causing you to turn around briefly.

“Meet me after dinner tonight, yeah?”

“Of course”, you happily obliged. You couldn’t wait to tell your friends about this perfect guy, and they couldn’t wait to hear the story either.

…

During dinner you kept turning your head to the right, hoping to catch a few glimpses of Enzo, who was sitting only a few seats away from you. You became rather disappointed when he didn’t notice you. Instead, he was laughing with all his friends.

“Y/n, what do you think?”, you hear all of a sudden, pulling you out of your admiration for Enzo. Totally in and out of your head, you try to remember what your friend asked you about. You also wondered whether Enzo had told all his friends about you yet, hopefully in a positive manner.

“Are you so in love with this guy you met four hours ago, that you can’t even focus on your real friends anymore”, she jokes, totally calling you out in your lovestruck behavior. The way you were infatuated with him, one could believe that he snuck you a love potion. But no, he was the first guy that you had ever felt this enchanted by.

In the last remaining minutes of dinner, you were mentally counting down the minutes. Only a little longer, you told yourself, then you could meet with him. Talk with him. Get to know him further. And eventually you would both lean in for a kiss and then…

“Dinner is finished, please go back to your respective common rooms”, Dumbledore's voice echoes through the dining hall, interrupting your daydream. As you’re getting up slowly, you tell your friends to go ahead. When everyone walked out, you saw Enzo separating from his friends to make his way to you. You could barely wait, having anticipated talking with him throughout the entire dinner.

“Hey”, he says, coming up to you.

You say nothing, replying with a simple smile. Deep down you were kind of scared of sounding overly excited, which could possibly scare him off.

“How’s it going?”

“Pretty good, how about you?”, you play your feelings down. You were better than “pretty good”, you were floating on cloud nine. If paradise existed, you were pretty sure that you were there already.

“I see you’re wearing a new dress, you look stunning”, Enzo says while looking you up and down, yet again. Your heart skipped a beat, overjoyed that he took notice. He really did pay attention to you.

“I’m glad.” Little did you know, and he did too, that you only wore this for him to see. It made you happy to know that your efforts weren’t in vain.

“Listen, how about we meet in my dorm?”, he suggested, “have us a little quiet place.” You instantly agreed, but told him that you would come by a little later because you wanted to refresh yourself in your own dorm first.

After all, you wanted everything to be perfect for your first date— wait, you stop your train of thought. Was it even a proper date? You weren’t sure, you’ve never been on one. Either way, you hurriedly skipped off to your dorm, informing all your girlfriends on your meeting.

Being the supportive girlfriends they were, they help you and give you pointers on your hair and makeup.

“I cannot believe that you’re going to be Enzo’s girlfriend”

“I’m so jealous, I wish an older guy would ask me out too”, they rave over your incredible luck.

“Well, I don’t even know if I’m really going to be his girlfriend”, you confess. He did seem interested, but after all you two were on completely different levels. What gave you comfort was that he seemed to be one of the nicer guys.

After one more glance in the mirror, you take off and ask everyone to wish you luck. You tried to be as quick as possible, not wanting to miss out on moments that you could’ve spent with Enzo.

Carefully, you sneak over to the boys’s dorms and you realize that you didn’t know which one Enzo slept in. So, you wander door to door, abruptly stopping when you recognize Enzo’s voice. His dorm door was open by a slit, so you lean in a little to listen. You knew it was sneaky, but you just couldn’t fight off your curiosity…

At first you couldn’t make out their indistinct words, but suddenly Enzo got a little louder. He sounded completely different from when you talked with him earlier.

“Fuck no!”, he scoffed loudly. You didn’t know what he rejected so angrily, but it only piqued your curiosity. You guessed that he was in the process of kicking his friends out to spend some time with you.

“Do you honestly think I care about her?” Enzo threw the question around. Upon hearing that you felt your heart standing still. Who was he talking about?

“Ok but if you don’t actually like her, then why go through the effort of chasing her down in that boutique”, Draco’s voice hollered all the way to you. After hearing that, even the tiniest hope—that he didn’t mean you, diminished within seconds.

“Yeah, you could literally have any girl you want, without spending a coin”, Blaise stated so painfully blatantly.

“You guys don’t get it”, Enzo defended his questionable, and apparently exaggerated, efforts to get you.

“My purchase barely cost me anything in terms of money, I have enough of that. But in return, I get a young, stupid and attractive girl who’ll do anything for me, because subconsciously she thinks she owes me”

Never in your entire life have you heard such a disgusting thing. For him you turned out to just be eye candy. A mere investment if you were being completely cynical.

Without wanting to hear more of what he had to say, you ran off back to your own dorm. His words rung in your head, stinging harder than you could have imagined. Back at your dorm, you barge in and burst into tears in front of all your friends. You’ve been holding them in ever since you heard his hurtful words.

After jumping on your bed, you instantly sink your head into a pillow. The darkness helped a little in blocking out everything. How could he have been so manipulative, and how stupid were you to have actually fallen for that?

His words may have been disgusting, but what was worse, was that they were true. Perhaps you would’ve really done anything he asked for in his dorm, had you not overheard their conversation.

With your makeup ruined and mascara running down your cheeks, you finally look up to answer to your friends’ concerns. All of them huddled around you, already comforting you even though they didn’t even know what happened. As you’re retelling what you overheard, you’re barely able to look them in their eyes. That’s how embarrassed you were.

When you were done, none of them could believe how sick and twisted Lorenzo Berkshire really was. Under that nice guy facade, hid a ugly and cunning playboy. At least Draco was open in showing what an asshole he was, this way he couldn’t really surprise you. But with Enzo, his first impressions were deceitful, which was way worse.

But under all your anger for Enzo, you were scared. Scared of the fact that Enzo was the first guy you’ve ever had real feelings for. Of course you only felt that way because he schemed and you fell right into his trap.

Still, a little part of your heart shattered upon the cruel reality. You didn’t want to believe it. A tiny guilt feeling part of you wanted so badly to walk up to his dorm again and to pretend nothing happened. It’d be easier than accepting his true intentions.

A sharp knock suddenly catches all of your attention. You must’ve been bawling out your eyes for a while now. You realize that Enzo had no idea about what happened and was still waiting for you.

“Can I come in”, you all hear him say from the other side of the door.

“FUCK Y-”, Anya begins yelling, before you immediately cover her mouth with your hand. You know she only meant the best, but you did it for a reason.

Everyone looked at you confused, trying to make out what you were thinking.

“Don’t let him know yet”, you whisper decisively, hoping he couldn’t hear you through the door.

They all ask why not, and truthfully you also weren’t too sure. But it felt more secure at the moment to not reveal your cards yet. Who knew how you could utilize the information you had. Ironically you learned that from Enzo in the past ten minutes.

“Is everything okay?”, he asks through the door, unsure of what was happening. What an amazing actor, pretending to genuinely care. How could one be so shamelessly two faced.

“You know what Enzo, I’m feeling a little sick”, you lie, trying to sound composed and calm. You couldn’t face him just yet.

“I'm sorry to hear that, I could-”

“I think it’s best if we just talk tomorrow”, you stop him before he could go on with more of his bullshit. In all honesty, talking to him was the last thing you wanted, but you had to sound believably fine.

“If you say so. Good night then”, and with that you heard his leaving footsteps.

“What are you doing?” Jenny asks you with a puzzled expression.

You explain to all of them that you need some peace right now to deal with your emotions and thoughts. The whole Enzo thing needed some time to be dealt with.

Since you were obviously in a bad headspace, they understand and leave you alone.

When lying in bed and processing your emotions from before, all the sadness, anger, embarrassment and fear—you suddenly feel something else too. You deeply wanted him to feel as foolish as you did too. You wanted him to regret his stupid little plan forever. You seeked for more than simply forgiving and forgetting, you wanted revenge.

#slytherin boys x reader #harry potter oneshot #harry potter #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x you #slytherin reader #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x you #lorenzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire #enzo berkshire x you #slytherin boys fanfiction

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folkloresthings · 2 years ago

Text

TOLERATE IT / FA14.

in which the older sister of lando norris finds herself teetering dangerously towards the precipice of her brother’s, significantly older, colleague.

( fernando alonso x norris!reader )

track one: gold rush. track two: delicate. track three: labyrinth. track four: false god. track five: happiness. track six: the 1. track seven: daylight. track eight: lover.

✩⡱ warnings: age gap! reader is 25, fernando is 41.

TWITTER.

INSTAGRAM.

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yourusername back in london town

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landonorris mum asked if you’re coming to dinner on sunday?

⤷ yourusername tell her yes, i’ll bring dessert, and please teach her how to text

user queen is back in the same city as me i might cry

lewishamilton i’ll be around next week, we should grab coffee!

⤷ yourusername only if you bring roscoe

⤷ lewishamilton yes ma’am 🫡

user im going to miss her in the paddock :(

⤷ user fingers crossed she’s back after the break

it was rather refreshing, to be back in your own apartment after weeks of living hotel to hotel. knowing where everything is, cooking for yourself, spending every night under your own covers. granted, after nights spent close to fernando’s side, your double bed felt much emptier than it did before.

with the summer break begun, the lack of work was leaving you with little to do. and the apartment had been sitting empty for weeks, desperate for a deep cleaning. so, clad in an old shirt and some shorts, you got to work. halfway through wiping down the entire kitchen, your phone rang, silencing the nineties hits playlist you’d had on.

hurrying over in your fluffy socks, you glanced down at the ringing screen. fernando. you hadn’t seen him since that morning lando had shown up in your hotel room. frankly, after your conversation with your brother, you fled the country as quickly as you could.

“hi,” you greeted him tentatively, after answering the call. he was quiet on the other end, your heart picking up its pace with every moment of silence.

“you left without saying goodbye,” he eventually speaks, voice monotone and heavy. you curse him mentally for being so unreadable, so plain when he wants to be.

you sigh, a finger rubbing your brow bone as you settle yourself on the couch. “i’m sorry, ‘nando.”

you weren’t sure of what else to say. you glanced at the time, ten minutes past eleven, wondering what time it was where fernando was. still in belgium? back home in spain? he wasn’t here, and that seemed to squeeze at your heart.

“so, what does this mean?” the question you had been dreading. the question you had asked yourself the whole plane ride home, and every moment since.

“i don’t know,” you murmured, truthfully. “it’s so complicated. if… if we keep this up, we’ll only get attacked. and lando will constantly be on edge — i don’t know if he could ever really accept it.”

“we could make him—” fernando begins to argue, and you can hear the frustration in his voice now.

“please, just listen.” he falls quiet and you lean back into the cushions. “i won’t be able to live knowing my brother didn’t approve. i can’t lose him, ‘nando, he’s my best friend. but…”

your lip wobbles, a tear slipping down your cheek. one you quickly wipe away, willing your emotions to get back in shape. fernando notices the shake in your breath, and his heart breaks when he realises he can’t do anything to help.

“but… the time we spent together, it was wonderful. you’ve taken my whole heart and i’ve happily let you keep it. it’s not something i want to let go of.”

“can’t we have both?” fernando asks, ready to beg you to stay. “lando will come around. and who cares about the press? we’d have each other, that’s what matters.”

“and what if it goes wrong?” you ask, almost too sharply. “what then? i can never come to a race again, because i won’t be able to face you? or we make it awkward between you and lando? he really looks up to you, fernando.”

“what could go wrong?” he asks, though he knows the answer. he knows about his own mistakes, and the reputation that came from it. but he would never dare break your heart, for it would only ruin his own.

“fernando…”

“mi amor, please…” he doesn’t care how desperate he sounds, because he is desperate. desperate to love you, to have you forever. “at least let us try.”

you consider it for a moment, you really do. torn between the possible love of your life and your baby brother, the hellish debacle of the century. but blood ran thicker than water, right?

“we never should have started this,” you brave the words, though they stab you in the process. but you know the only way to do this is to hurt him, to give him a reason to stay away. no matter how it kills you. “we can’t go on. it’s not like it ever could have worked, and you know it’s true.”

“no,” he replies firmly, holding himself together. “no, i’m not letting you go that easily.”

“i’m sorry, fernando. try and enjoy your break, okay?” you click the red end call button before he can reply, turning your phone off and sinking into the cushions, body soon racking with gentle sobs.

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lando.jpg home sweet home

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user back with the y/n content, the people’s princess 🫶🫶🫶

pierregasly y/n’s cooking 🔛🔝

carlossainz55 i want a norris family dinner rn

user Y/N’S SO CUTE

fernandoalo_official enjoy ❤️

writers note: whoopsies. this is short sorry i’m super duper busy atm 💌

#formula 1 #formula one #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 instagram au #formula 1 x reader #fernando alonso imagine #fernando alonso #fernando alonso instagram au #fernando alonso x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lance stroll x reader #max verstappen x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #oscar piastri x reader #mick schumacher x reader

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fancyfeathers · 2 months ago

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Ykw I guess that make sense, i feel like its only easier since daughter!reader can push him around a little since they're the same age. It's honestly hard to say who has the best relationship since they all suck😭. If I was her I'd be able to handle him. Except DICK AND BRUCE. they are basically two sides of the same coin and it would drive me crazy. I wouldn't stay in the same room with them if I could. Nothing could convince me otherwise. Although, when mother and daughter get older does the relationship improve with any of them or does it all just spiral out of control?

I know eventually that the secret will come out that Bruce blackmailed mother!reader to get back together. I just KNOW daughter!reader will never let this go. She'd do everything she can to help her mom out. Call the Kent's? Call her crazy (ex?) court of owls boyfriend? Anything to get away from these psychos. Might as well call the whole justice league

Yandere Batfam w/ Wife/Mother!Darling & Daughter/Sister!Darling Masterlist

Honestly I think I am gonna place this in a Yandere!Justice League AU so like say if she did get out and told someone like Clark about what has happening, he’d just take her back to Gotham, “I believe this is yours”. Or if the Justice League found her, cue the next meeting were Bruce walks in to see his daughter in one of Hal’s constructs, an oversized hamster ball and just, “Hey Spooky, I think you lost this one, she tried to bite off my finger so she’s definitely yours.” This whole idea makes the thought of her becoming an anti-Batman/Justice League vigilante later in life even more funny.

On the other end of things…

One would think it would have improved over the years and in some cases it has, like by the time Daughter!Darling is a junior or senior in high school her mother has just sort of accepted there is no way in hell out of this for her and after that point her marriage is fairly normal or as normal as it can get. Meanwhile Daughter!Darling only grows more agitated as the years go on, and at the point where she is almost an adult she is in her extreme rebellious phase as they call it, but in actuality it is just her being a normal teenager.

Like she leaves after school with her friends or boyfriend (before she found out the truth) and hangs out with them and while her mother said it was alright, her father never did. Like I am just imagining her and her friend group, which is small all ready because Damian scares away most of everyone else, along with her boyfriend going out to grab coffee after school and Tim shows up, telling her friends that he has to take her home because there was an accident-

Bullshit, they were tracking her location and he’s come to drag her back to the manor.

This sort of thing happens every time she tries to do something away from them…

Dick came to pick her up from the ice skating rink.

Jason practically dragged her away before she could even get in her boyfriend’s car when he was going to take her out to the movies.

Even Stephanie has shown up when she was shopping with her friends for a dress for a date with her boyfriend (he had given her his credit card to pay for the dress), but that date never ended up happening.

It all comes down to a boiling point one day after school, Damian was sick and she had convinced Bruce that she was tutoring a student after school but instead she was in the backseat of her boyfriend’s car (you can probably guess what they were doing) since they have not spent time with each other in forever. She is cuddled up next to him and he finally asks…

“Is everything okay at home?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

She explains everything to him, well almost everything, right as she was about to reveal that her father is the Batman, there is a very loud knocking on the window of the car, and a very angry looking Dick Grayson was there, she had forgotten that he was going to pick her up from school. She pushes her boyfriend back when he tries to stop her from leaving but she tells him not to get involved right now.

The drive back with Dick is tense to say the least, he grips the steering wheel so tightly that you can practically hear the skin squeezing the leather. The worst part of it is that he calls Bruce in front of her and tells him everything…

“She had sex with a boy-“

“We didn’t go all the way-“

“You were half naked in his care, I- you have a bite mark on your neck- oh for fuck’s sake.”

When she gets home she is in huge trouble, even Stephanie and Cassandra, who normally somewhat take her side, are mad at her, so you can only imagine how fuming Bruce is at her. It is horrible for her to be sitting in the living room with everyone around her while they all yell at her and she barely gets the chance to talk.

“You are practically a child, what would make you think-“

“I turned eighteen a month ago!”

“I think you should have let me put that boy in his place when I first found them together, father.”

“Maybe she should stay with me in Blüdhaven for awhile.”

“No, we should keep her at the manor.”

“Really Timothy, and let her continue to let her to go to school with that boy who defiled her?”

“Damian, I was the one who-“

“We could confine her to her room until we find a better way to address her behavior.”

Then that is what happens, locked in her room twenty four hours a day, the definition of a prisoner in your own home. Every screen in the room has been taken out, cameras in her room, she eats by herself unless someone comes to join her, most books are taken away because they could be considered even mildly inappropriate, so literally all she can do is sleep, eat, shower, schoolwork that Damian brings her, and she could talk when one of them comes to see her but she really does not want to.

Meanwhile at school her boyfriend is fucking pissed at Damian and her boyfriend is one of the most influential people in that building, one of those pretty boys, so having him being mad at you isn’t a good thing…

Especially when his family are rather influential members of the Court of Owls.

His family holds enough influence to get Damian expelled from the school for his aggressive tendencies. His mother drags Mother!Darling off at galas and charity balls to join her circle of friends, most of which are members of the Court of Owls as well, and while Mother!Darling is drinking a glass of champagne and chatting, the boyfriend’s mother places a hand on her shoulder and gives her a smile…

“You know I am your friend, right? You can trust me with anything.”

Sooner or later something is bound to slip in the facade of a perfect family and when that happens everything becomes a clock, ticking away.

One night after everyone has left for patrol and the two darlings are getting ready for bed a few certain shadows slip into Wayne Manor. Now it may turn a few head in the court, sending out Talons to kidnap rather than kill, but it can be overlooked when one of them is going to be the fiancé of the heir of the Court’s most influential families.

Now this could end one of two ways…

The first of which is if the Bats get back in time, the alarms going off in the manor at the intrusion. Then by the end of it all Daughter!Darling is in the corner, crying and terrified, feeling horrible that her family was right all along about the boy she was dating, he was a horrible person. After that neither of them are left alone again, she moves rooms to share with Cassandra or maybe Stephanie, and not just share a room but share a bed, if something happens then they can’t waste a moment on reacting. Then someone is always with them, Bruce’s wife is stuck to his side during the day, being dragged along wherever he goes, then the youngest of the bunch has all of her siblings looking after her, wake up next to Cass, get dragged along by Damian after breakfast, forced cuddles from Dick (and Barbara if she is there) before lunch, Jason watching her during lunch to make sure she eats enough, watching movies with Stephanie in the afternoon, Tim keeping an eye on her while he reviews footage before dinner, and then when patrol rolls around one or two of them stays back to keep an eye on them.

Then the second outcome is if they don’t get there in time. They won’t wake up with the entire court present, no that is honestly far too intimidating and they certainly enemies of the court, but they do not wake up together either. Mother!Darling wakes up in an armchair in a sitting room, it is terrifying to see all of those friends at those galas she got dragged into all sitting there, laughing and talking like nothing was wrong, and then the boyfriend’s mother just smiling at her…

“Oh wonderful, you’re awake! I was worried you got hit too hard when you got knocked out.”

“W-what’s g-going on?”

“Oh yes, I suppose you would be scared, but you need not worry, I promise you that no one will harm you or your daughter again. Now that aside, would you like some wine? We have this one red wine that just came in from Italy that is absolutely divine.”

Meanwhile her daughter wakes up in a room that is not hers with her boyfriend next to her, holding that white owl mask, and he just smiles at her while she’s terrified because she thinks she was just kidnapped by her boyfriend who always felt too innocent to even get in a verbal argument with someone.

“Shh… don’t cry sweet thing, you’re safe now, nothing will ever hurt you or your mother again.”

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kryptznnn · 3 months ago

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♡- Let Me Know [IV]

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➸ INTERESTS; -atwow!neteyam x fem!metkayina reader

➸ BACKGROUND; -As the omatikayan family takes refuge within your clan, it seems sparks begin to fly when tension rises with the oldest brother and yourself over a shared family dinner. The question isn't what'll happen between you two, it's what'll you do to prevent things from getting further.

➸ WARNINGS; - wc.4.5k romantic tension, jealousy, arguing, sorting out, romantic communication, romantic confession, fluff, kissing, mentions of future ties, etc.

➸a.i; - final chapter long awaited!! so sorry for the long wait but we’re here now amen, working on 3 reqs at the same time + updating other chapters bare w me!!

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♡- Let Me Know [III]

♡-Let Me Know Masterlist

After the incidents you were able to take your time and focus on yourself for a while. Letting your body heal from the injuries you suffered along with your mind from all of the past trauma you faced, it was enjoyable truly, especially with the support you had.

Overtime you grew closer and closer with each and every other Sully member. Cooking and cleaning along with Neytiri as you and your siblings heard the past stories of Jake and his time before and after becoming na’vi. His stories were amusing, and even Riti had tagged along with you a couple of times and she never seized to gasp exasperatedly or scream from shock. It would never fail to make everyone else laugh as you were quick to shush her as if you were her mother.

But of course, the more time you spent with her you would spend alongside her brother. Practically doing everything together and leaving the Sully family early to go along with the two and walk them home as you and A’tan shared your days before saying goodbyes and leaving.

Eventually as you were all together as a group you watched the sunset as you listened to everyone giving their stories or funny jokes to one another. Soon Riti yawned and began to rub her eyes before making her way over to you and cuddled into your chest.

“Someone’s sleepy, no?” You teased, embracing her before picking her up slightly and keeping her in your chest. Rubbing her back softly as you listened to her little hums as you paid your attention back to the others before your sister spoke.

“You’re practically her mother, the two of you are so cute. It’s as if she has a closer relationship with you than A’tan.” She joked, laughing as a couple others did too, A’tan included. You only shook your head and giggled softly, careful to not stifle Riti.

Ao’nung was quick to add on how right she was about her point, even mentioning the position the two of you were in now. You only shooed him off and confessed the fact that it was obvious you cared for her, as you and A’tan were close so it was practically destined for you two to bond.

“Everyone in the clan knows it already, they all trust me with their children more than anyone else. It’s obvious enough that I also want to be a mother when I’m of age so.” You added straining out the last part before feeling Riti pick her head up and squish your cheeks before putting her head back on your chest.

You laughed softly at her before kissing her head as she giggled also. You turned your head quickly to look up at Neteyam, who sat beside his sister and Roxto with a smile on his face, which soon changed as you felt a hand brush across your cheek and rest on your shoulder.

“You’d make a wonderful mother.” You heard A’tan spoke from your side, you turned to see his hand on you with a large smile plastered on his face. You smiled back at him and thanked him before he moved his hand away.

As you felt Riti begin to doze off in your arms and the sun had finally come down as the colors drained from the sky, and A’tan was quick to take her. You reached up for her out of instinct before standing up and accompanying the two as you waved back to the group.

“I’m going to walk them back, I’ll be back, okay? Please be nice and don’t do anything that’ll make me upset.” You said with a smile, watching everyone wave back to you except for Neteyam, who only looked off to the side with an upset expression on his face.

You only noted it and looked off to the side with a confused expression before turning your attention back to Riti and A’tan before walking off. You thought to yourself what could’ve made him upset, or more specifically at you, especially to the point where he didn’t even feel the need to wave back to you as you mentioned your departure.

As you began to walk alongside with A’tan you still couldn’t help but think of what was wrong. Maybe you were overthinking it or maybe he didn’t hear you, whatever it was hurt you though. It felt as if your head was splitting in two as you tried to make more solutions to calm yourself. You sighed heavily before turning your head off to the sea before back to A’tan before he spoke.

“What’s on your mind? You’re so out of it you aren’t walking straight.” He said, pointing to your form slightly before placing the hand back on Riti as support, you bit your bottom lip anxiously before focusing and speaking to him.

“Neteyam” you spoke, putting your head down as you listened to him hum in approval. There was a little silence between the two of you, you wanted to say something, but you couldn’t. It felt slightly disrespectful to the relationship you and Neteyam shared, whatever it was.

“I can tell he likes you; he’s probably upset over not being able to communicate it out.” He said, nudging your shoulder softly as you crossed your arm and kept your head down. Slightly surprised by him being able to tell Neteyam’s feelings towards you, but overall, he was bold and never tried to hide it.

“We did communicate, he told me he likes me… but right now I don’t know what he’s upset at me for.” You said, guilt consuming you as you felt your lip quiver slightly as your brows furrowed. You turned to look up at him quickly as he raised a brow at your statement.

“But you didn’t communicate how you felt to him?” He asked, now genuinely concerned for the situation. You only sighed and shook your head, thinking back a couple weeks ago to the moment back in front of your pod. The rush of adrenaline and excitement you felt with him, the nervousness that pushed the two of you to begin with. You heard a disapproving sigh from A’tan before he spoke again.

“Maybe that’s why he’s acting the way he is; he seems like a serious guy. Try talking to him later to see what’s up, he seems understanding enough.” He stated respectfully, nodding to himself and then nudging your side again attempting to cheer you up, you only hummed in response.

As the conversation between the two of you died down you soon arrived to his marui pod, waving your goodbyes and hugging a very sleepy Riti before turning back. You made your way back to the others as you thought to yourself how you would confront the situation and how you would confess to Neteyam. Truly you never expected any of this to get so far in a long period of time, but it hadn’t mattered. If you didn’t fix this problem now you knew it would never go away, only eat you alive out of guilt or grow from mixed emotions.

“Hey guys” you spoke cheerfully, a smile on your face as you saw them warming up by the fire and laughing with one another. They were quick to turn to you and wave and say their hello’s, all except Neteyam of course. You listened to your sister kid around yet again about your nurturing roll to Riti as you helped her walk back even though A’tan was more than available.

You only shoved her slightly with a laugh, saying it was a habit and you’ve done it countless times for everyone else, even Tuk. Even though it hadn’t seemed like it A’tan was your best friend, around your age and you’ve known each other since you were babies, it was common to always be with one another.

As you shared and listened to the insights of your siblings you heard a quick scoff from across them, turning your attention to Neteyam as he rolled his eyes. Your previous confusion had now turned into anger as you watched him, for someone who had just smiled at you before you spoke earlier, he sure knew how to act like an ass.

You thought to yourself for a minute, maybe A’tan was wrong for once. Maybe this wouldn’t be as easy as he implied or maybe Neteyam didn’t want to hear you or your confession, maybe he was just over you. Over the long days and nights that passed where you would prioritize your family and clan over spending time with him, talking with him. You felt your ears flare as they twitched slightly before you huffed, now turning your entire body in his direction.

“What’s your problem?” You asked him now visibly upset, you hadn’t realized it at the moment, but you had cut your sister off. She immediately went silent when she took in your upset reaction, especially when she saw who it was directed towards.

Now everyone’s attention was between the two of you, as you heard Lo’ak whisper softly to your brother you earned another scoff from Neteyam before he laughed at you. Not the laugh that you liked whenever you were with him sharing the small moments you did together, more of a laugh at was mocking you.

“Who said I have a problem with you? Y/n” he said, practically snarling your name as he spoke. You glared at him, gripping your hand into a fist before huffing again and turning your attention back to your sister. Everyone was confused at the small altercation between you two before you changed the topic of discussion asking your sister about something else.

During the entirety of the night, Tuk had crawled into Neteyam’s chest now as you glanced over to see him glaring at you continuously. Before peering over to his brother’s side and whispering something while pointing at you before laughing. You felt your tail sway back and forth behind you brushing the sand out of frustration.

Kiri was the first to leave, taking Tuk with her and walking off in the opposite direction from where you were previously seated back to their marui pod. Your sister had quickly moved you to close in the circle and take Kiri’s spot, as you were now closer to Neteyam, not helping your situation at all.

As you tried to ignore it his laughs and small remarks got louder and louder. He was bold to even do something like this in front of you, especially after spewing what you now convinced yourself was nonsense just two weeks ago. You felt your head throb again as if it was ready to split in two as you played with a small stick in the fire, now zoning out as you thought to yourself.

It hurt, and it hurt bad, no one else had known what had happened between the two of you and you had returned back here after getting your closest friends' advice just for things to turn for the worst. This isn’t what you expected or what you wanted in the slightest, and now you weren’t sure if you wanted to cry or get angry, maybe a mixture of both.

“Y/n!” You heard your brother call your name quickly snapping you out of your thoughts as he shook you slightly, the tears that rested in your eyes quickly rolling down your cheeks. He paused for minute before speaking to you again. “Are you crying? What’s wrong?” He spoke, you quickly wiped your face before shaking your head.

“Got too close to the fire, forgot to blink.” You lied attempting to play it off as a joke, and thankfully he didn’t catch on, only nodding and poking at your face before saying he was heading off and wished everyone a good night along with your sister.

Apparently, you hadn’t even realized it until you perked your head up to take a look of who was left, but Roxto had left a while ago also. Possibly alongside Kiri and Tuk when they left, or alone, who knows. Your ears twitched slightly as you heard Lo’ak suck his teeth before shoving his brothers' shoulder slightly from your side, practically scolding him.

“Talk about it, stop being an asshole right now, it doesn’t look good on you.” He spoke, quick to get up and grab his set of belongings before leaving his brother and coming up to you to say his goodbyes, you only got up slightly to wave to him before taking your original position across from Neteyam, giving the two of you more distance now.

“I don’t bite you know.” He stated flatly, you only scoffed and rolled your eyes at him. Continuing to play with the stick in your hand as you drew in the sand before coming up with a comment towards his attitude.

“No but your attitude does, and it’s annoying. So if you have nothing important to say I’ll be leaving too.” You growled in return, raising the side of your top lip softly as you barred your teeth for a moment, before pressing them into a straight line.

“Don’t act like you don’t know what you’re doing, you can’t possibly think you’re the victim here.” He stated, you perked your head up as your brows furrowed, his arms resting on a log behind him where he laid his elbows back on as his legs were spread.

“Can't know what the problem is if you can’t open your mouth and shut your pride to say it.” You said simply, pointing the stick at him before going back to drawing in the sand, earning a huff from him.

“You want to know my problem? My problem is the fact that you’re able to communicate with everyone else but me. You can talk to your dear A’tan about how you feel or what you want but can’t with me. You can’t even make enough time for me, and till now I still don’t know how you feel. I’m many things y/n but a fool isn’t one of them, so don’t take me as one.” He spoke harshly, you only lowered your head at his words.

Along all of the actions and things that replayed in your mind you were only able to apologize to him over and over. The tears from before now coming back and stinging your eyes before they made their way onto the dry sand before you. Neteyam’s former demeanor had immediately changed, now taking in the nurturing role and coming over to your side.

Attempting to reach out and place his hands on you, which you were quick to swat off, the sound the slap surprising both of you. He was quick to apologize to you as you turned your head away from him, not wanting to look at him. He had confessed his emotions had gotten the best of him and he was jealous of your relationship with A’tan, but more hurt of how much distance there was between the relationship the two of you shared.

He wasn’t wrong honestly, and when you pictured yourself in his place you would’ve been beyond upset. You only listened to his words as he spoke for the most part, you had tried counting the minutes that passed as he spoke and poured everything out, but eventually you lost track.

As his speech came to an end you thought of what to say to him. How to confess how you felt for him deep down that you wanted out for so long, now instead of thinking of what he might like or what’ll make him happy you thought of yourself. What’ll make yourself happy and comfortable to share with him that he would understand as he spoke to you placing a hand on your shoulder, making you turn around swiftly.

“Please, please y/n just say something to me, anything.” He begged as you took in his facial expression, he wore a frown on his face as he spoke. Just then an idea sparked into your mind, you could do it, just not necessarily speak. You motioned for him to follow along with your hands as you snagged his attention.

‘I love you Neteyam, and nothing will ever change how I feel for you, I see you.’ You signed to him, then apologizing for it taking so long for this to happen as you were challenged mentally by everything collapsing on you at once. It seemed he hadn’t heard any of your words and was only focused on what you signed to him, because a small smile crept up on his lips before forming into a large grin as he soon hugged you.

He serenaded you in positive affirmations as he pulled back, speaking of how happy he was to finally see, feel, and hear how you felt for him. Apologizing yet again for his actions and harsh attitude towards you earlier, to which you pardoned and laughed along with him.

Overtime the two of you spent small talk and laughter in your position, looking off to the sea as you yawned. Neteyam peered over at you before taking in your now sleepy face, saying it was best if you two returned back to your homes. If you had more energy, you probably would’ve faught it off, saying no and that you would much rather stay here with him, but you were too tired too, so you eventually obliged.

As you two walked back towards your home you exchanged subtle glances as your hands would brush against one another softly. Soon he crept his hand into yours before entwining them as you now reached the front of your marui pod. You thanked him with a soft hug as you left his hand go before placing a soft kiss to his cheek and smiling at him.

He was quick to grab your hand afterwards and pulling you back in, as his face was just inches away from yours. You felt your face flush out of embarrassment and anxiety before stepping back and wishing him a goodnight before quickly entering your home. He only laughed to himself as he watched you, in all honesty you had prayed to Eywa that he hadn’t seen your flustered state in the dark of night.

As majority of prayers go this one remained unanswered as he had apparently seen it, especially from the glowing freckles on your cheeks that heightened your face for him. He only shook his head as he thought to himself before he turned around to walk in the opposite direction back to his marui pod.

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It was late at night, very late as you sneaked around past your family’s pod to go out to sea. Earlier within the day Neteyam had whispered to you to meet him there, and since you had nothing better to do other than sleep you decided to go.

Or maybe the incident from last month th gave you such a thrill you weren’t able to contain yourself. It had replayed in your head for days and you hated the fact that there was no one to truly share it with. You were anxious, but you considered whatever to come worth it. You were able to move entirely freely now as your wounds had healed and your bandages had been removed.

You stood underneath one of the long trees that rested in front of a rock as you waited, thinking to yourself you must’ve been early before hearing rustling and footsteps coming your way. As you picked your head up to see who had come a large smile was plastered on your face when you saw Neteyam.

You had thought it over with yourself over the past week, and although you couldn’t share every exact detail you were able to somewhat talk to your mother about it. The things you felt when you were with Neteyam, or how you would smile so hard your cheeks hurt and felt as if they burned.

You had also mentioned to her everything she taught you to look for when finding love. Saying you felt everything she did and told you, but you were scared of the differences between you and the person who you liked. She only hugged you and reassured you that it would all work out to be, no matter how different we may look, sound, or act we were all one underneath Eywa.

If it was the differences between the two of you that was feared if it wasn’t meant for you to be together Eywa would’ve split your paths by now for sure. If she hadn’t that means it was meant to be, you were destined to find one another and you had every right to be happy.

She even mentioned how you were the oldest and carried so many responsibilities for the family and entire clan as the eldest daughter of the oleyktan. If there was any chance you were happy and free from it all for a while with someone who made you feel special by all means take it, just let her know in advance.

Also let her know what you two will be doing, because she hadn’t wanted to be a grandmother so early, you only laughed at her ending result. Constantly reassuring her you would draw the line there with him until the both of you were older and mentally ready for one, if the conversation would even start.

“Hey, I’ve been missing you all day” he said, walking up to you and sitting beside you. You laughed and shook your head at him, wearing a confused question at his statement.

“We saw each other this morning, have you been swimming around so much that the water has entered your brain now?” You asked, poking him in the head slightly before the two of you burst out in laughter.

It was nice being like this and enjoying one another’s company. It had seemed as if the weight of everything previously had lifted off of your shoulders every time you were with him. You were happy, although several arguments and confusion were raised between the two of you over the span of the month they had been here, you were happy.

If this is what love was or what it’s supposed to be you never wanted to leave it, if anything you didn’t want to feel anything other than love. You had learned a little more about him over the time shared with you two, as he did to you.

“It’s nice being away from everyone, for once in a while.” You spoke, now sitting closer to him and resting your head on his shoulder softly. He wasted no time in placing a hand over you from behind as support as you both looked out at sea.

He only nodded in response as the two of you then began to sit in silence. As you rested you heard Neteyam’s breath hitch slightly before he wet his lips to speak.

“I told my family about us.” He said with hesitation, now looking over at your figure slightly to see what reaction you’d give him. Your eyes widened as you perked your head off his shoulder to turn to look at him, it felt as if something in your stomach churned.

“What” you breathed, a hand over your belly trying to seize the churning inside it. The way your nerves just spike over things as small as this or situations that catch you off guard always made you feel weak. He swallowed before speaking again as he now took in your expression.

“They’re happy for me, for us. My dad hugged me until I couldn’t breathe, he said he was proud. Kiri said she could already tell and Tuk was screaming.” He said with a smile on his face as he turned to the side for a while, you blinked as you caught your breath.

You took in his words now, somewhat happy at his words and the support from his family, but more or less confused by his terms. It’s not as if the two of you were mated, the two of you were young and had the rest of your lives ahead of you. You hadn’t even kissed yet and he’s already told his family about you? What exactly did he say about you?

“What did you tell them exactly?” You asked, looking up at his face before looking out at the sea. You took a quick glance at his face seeing him smile before playing in the sand as he looked your way before speaking again.

“Well, I told them about my um… confession, during Kiri’s incident. Then that you felt the same way.” He confessed, nodding to himself as he spoke as if he was proud of himself for it. You scoffed slightly and smirked before placing your hand on his thigh.

“You didn’t tell them we kissed?” You kidded, giggling a little bit before feeling him pick up the same hand you had on his thigh before holding it. You stopped laughing after seeing him not laugh as he moved in closer to you.

“But we didn’t kiss, unless you want to change that now?” He said, squeezing your hand a little tighter now as his other hand made its way to your hair, brushing it out of your face and behind your hair. Your breath hitched now as you could tell he was serious, and you only kept your eyes on his face.

The freckles on his face were glowing softly, making his eyes seem brighter in the dark night. By the look on his face from how he scanned yours with his eyes you only assumed your face was doing the same. The two of you smiled softly as you were quick to turn your head off to the side, anxiety eating away at your stomach.

Neteyam took a quick move at your actions and cupped your face, turning it back slightly for you to look back at him. Nodding at you before you looked up at his reluctantly, explaining your nervousness to him. He promised you that there was nothing to be scared of, and if anything, you’d enjoy it.

And he was right, for the first time out of many he wasn’t wrong. Because as the two of you had your hands firmly grasping onto the other as your lips had interlocked you couldn’t feel anything else other than happiness and the small fluttering within the pit of your stomach.

His kisses were passionate and soft, he was delicate with you and you loved it. You had tried to share the same energy and delicacy he had but didn’t last long, breaking the kisses the two of you shared every so often to catch your breath as you smiled at him before kissing him again.

“Looks like we changed it, turns out we can tell everyone we kissed.”

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maretinelli · 2 months ago

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BORTOLETO-HAMILTON

Lewis Hamilton X Bortoleto!fem!reader

Summary: With her younger brother and husband racing together in Formula 1, Y/n's nerves are doubled when they're both on the track.

Words: 8K+

Warnings: Mentions of many Brazilian things, Lewis in the Ferrari, cigarettes, drinks, partying and Brazilian music, maybe some swearing and suggestive lines between Y/n and Lewis.

Author: English is not my first language, so apologies if there are any spelling or typing errors. Well, I'm addicted to Lewis and as a Brazilian I'm loving watching Bortoleto. I had to put these two together.🇧🇷❤️ I will mention Brazilian songs, but I will put them at the end of the story!!

MASTERLIST

Y/n Bortoleto didn't remember exactly when her life ended up TOTALLY on the grid, tracks, races and podiums. Being a sports agent, older sister of the most promising rookie in the category Gabriel Bortoleto and wife of Lewis Hamilton, she definitely had no escape. Y/n's world was taken over by Formula 1. She was in the eye of the storm.

Y/n and Lewis met years ago at a charity gala for young motorsport talent. Lewis was already a multiple champion and charismatic spokesperson for the sport, while Yin was just starting his career at the athlete agency. The conversation between the two began simply, about strategy, sponsorships and, inevitably, Ayrton Senna. "If you don't have Senna as a role model, then you're in the wrong sport" he joked that night.

The conversation turned into laughter and, at the end of the night, an exchanged business card and the promise of a coffee that, eventually, never happened.

At least not right away.

A year later, chance brought them together again. Y/n was hired to take on a project at the agency as a representative for a renowned athlete. When she opened the folder, there he was: Lewis Hamilton. "So, are we finally going to have that coffee?" he teased, and the rest was history. Now married for a few years, they formed one of the most iconic couples in the world of Formula 1: a brilliant sports agent and the greatest driver of his generation.

During this time, Gabriel Bortoleto, the woman's younger brother, was making his mark on the go-karts and Formula 3...2 tracks. When Gabriel was still a child, the eldest would take him to the go-kart tracks, racing to get the best seats in the stands and cheering him on every lap. She could see his talent manifest itself from the first moment he put his hands on the steering wheel.

She was always with the boy, acting as his manager, sister, best friend and representative at the time, when they both grew together in their respective careers.

Inspired by his idol Ayrton Senna and his brother-in-law Lewis Hamilton, the 20-year-old Brazilian finally reached F1.

Y/n couldn't be more fulfilled with her two boys and her career.

Lewis and Gabriel.

Hamilton had known the youngest Bortoleto since the boy was 12 years old. When he and Y/n started dating. They had an incredible connection, a friendship that went from family Sundays to the GPs they had raced together. Lewis always. teaching and learning from the youngest.

And in the first GP of the season that Lewis got on the podium, he couldn't help but raise the Brazilian flag high, next to his home country. The Brazilian flag was a tribute to his wife and brother-in-law who was new to the category.

This weekend would be the first GP in Interlagos that Gabriel Bortoleto would participate in Formula 1. Fans, family and friends could not be more excited. With the euphoria of being able to see a Brazilian on the podium, after years without seeing Brazil in Formula 1.

Lewis and his wife had gotten off the plane a few minutes earlier. With their disguises, no one seemed to recognize the couple as they walked to the parking lot so they could pick up their rental car.

Hamilton adjusted his cap as he whispered something in his wife's ear. She laughed as she had Roscoe tied to the leash she was leading.

"Hey, is anyone here faking it or is too tired to walk!" She said, and Hamilton looks at the dog next to her.

"Pretending, definitely," Lewis replied, chuckling softly. "He knows if he makes a fuss, I'll carry him in my arms."

"That's your problem, love," Y/n scoffed. "You're the one who spoiled him like that."

Lewis paused for a second, feigning indignation.

"Are you suggesting that I'm the problem? Because honestly, Roscoe is the perfect son."

"Perfect son who snores and drools on your shirt," she replied, smiling.

Lewis chuckles, pulling her closer to his side.

Walking to the parking lot, to be able to pick up the car they had rented to spend the days in Brazil, they saw a journalist outside, who probably knew what time the couple would arrive in the country.

But the good thing is that he was alone. There was no one else in the parking lot other than people who probably didn't know the couple.

The young journalist approaches. "Hello, Lewis Hamilton and Y/n Bortoleto Hamilton? Do you have a minute?" He asks, a little shyly.

Y/n and Lewis looked at each other smiling. The young journalist was probably still in college and was nervous.

"Yes. Ourselves," Lewis says, as he stops to give the young man his attention.

"Sure, no problem"

"I promise not to be too intrusive. Just a few questions," he says, and points his phone's microphone in front of the couple. "How do you feel about this weekend's GP?"

Lewis smiles. "Honestly. I feel confident, Brazil has always been a country that I feel at home in. So, I'm definitely in a good place. It's like racing in England." Hamilton smiles.

Meanwhile, Y/n watched Roscoe lay on the parking lot floor.

"What about you, Y/n? How do you feel about seeing your little brother running around the house?"

"It's exciting in a way I can't even describe." Y/n smiled, taking off her sunglasses. "Seeing Gabriel race in Brazil, in Interlagos, where he grew up watching Senna and Lewis... It's surreal. He's worked his whole life for this moment, and I couldn't be more proud. Not only as a sister, but as a former agent and number one fan."

"And you, Hamilton? How do you feel about your wife's brother being on your tail in every race? Is there a rivalry between the two of you?"

"Definitely not! I've known Gab since I started dating Y/n. I can say that I've seen the younger one grow, as a person and professionally," he smiles. "So no, there's no rivalry or anything like that when we're at the races. It's like when he stands on the podium, the victory is for both of us. I've seen how hard he's worked to get here. And I know he feels the same way about me." Lewis smiles politely, while his hand is clasped in his wife's.

"Okay. Now one last question. You might be tired from the flight." The young journalist says, and turns a page of his small notebook. "Y/n! There are some rumors going around the internet. And we want to know, when are the mini Hamilton-Bortoleto coming?" He asks smiling.

Y'n laughs, lowering her head and Lewis squeezes her hand, smiling too.

"I think next week. Our little cat Poppe is pregnant at home. There should be at least 7 mini Poppe Hamilton-Bortoletos!" She jokes, not really wanting to talk about babies in front of the cameras.

Lewis laughs at his wife's comment and the journalist smiles sympathetically.

"Okay. We'll never get that answer, until there's finally a baby here"

"Sure thing" Hamilton says smiling.

"Thank you very much for the interview. And good luck racing.

Lewis and Yin thank the young man and say goodbye, heading to the car that the woman managed to rent before arriving in Brazil.

"I found him to be friendly and respectful with questions," Lewis praises the young man.

"Yes. Sweet boy," she said, as she tried to get Roscoe to walk. "Come on son, the car is right there!!"

Roscoe let out a short bark, turned sideways, and collapsed to the ground as if all his energy had gone.

"All this drama, Roscoe?" Lewis asked, laughing, as he bent down and picked the dog up in his arms.

Y/n puts her hands on her hips, indignant at the upbringing Lewis was giving her four-legged son.

"Hey, that way you don't let him be independent!!" Y/n jokes, walking a little behind Lewis, who had Roscoe in his arms. "And when he's a baby?"

"I'll be the same. I'll carry it in my arms until I'm 20," Lewis says, unlocking the car with the key.

"You're impossible," Y/n chuckles, walking to the passenger door as Lewis clips Roscoe's leash to the backseat.

Lewis chuckled, settling into the driver's seat. "And that's why you love me."

The drive to the condominium where Y/n's parents lived was peaceful. Lewis drove with one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on his wife's leg. Roscoe, more energetic after his nap at the airport, watched out the window, attentive to the new smells and movements of Brazil.

"What do you think about stopping by the bakery near your parents' house?" Lewis asked, quickly looking away at Y/n.

She smiled, remembering the fresh cheese bread her mother always praised from that place. "I was waiting for you to suggest that. You're already more Brazilian than most Brazilians."

As soon as they arrived at the condominium entrance, the doorman allowed the couple to pass, where Lewis drove to the end, where the Bortoleto house was. A large house to fit the whole family, with a deck that gave a view of the lake behind the house.

The front gate was the same as always, painted dark gray with slight signs of age. The garden was impeccable, with colorful flowers. Certainly Clara's idea, Y/n and Gabriel's mother. Y/n felt her heart warm that house had always been the perfect refuge, no matter how many years had passed.

When they parked in front of the house, Y/n and Lewis could see that they were already waiting for the couple, with a warm smile on their faces. Hamilton turned off the car and took Roscoe out of the back seat. While Y/n ran out to hug her parents.

She was 30 years old, but with her parents there, in front of her waiting for her to get home, it was as if she were back when she was 15.

"They're finally here!!" Y/n's mother, Clara, says, with her daughter in her arms, "I missed you guys so much!

"Sorry I'm late," Lewis said, setting Roscoe down. "Roscoe decided to be dramatic at the airport.

"Worse than a spoiled child" Y/n says, hugging her father.

Lewis walks up the front steps to greet his in-laws. Meanwhile, Roscoe runs excitedly across the front lawn.

"I think he was saving it for the barbecue later." Lewis hugs Y/n's mother.

They laugh.

Y/n's father, Mr. Lincoln, approached with that calm air of a patriarch. "Lewis! Welcome back, son," he said, giving his son-in-law a firm handshake and a pat on the shoulder.

"Thank you, Mr. Lincoln. You can be sure I missed it here!"

Y/n's father smiles: "Great! Gab and I prepared a great picanha for the barbecue."

"Lew and I brought cheese bread from the bakery nearby. For afternoon coffee, Y/n runs to the car and grabs the things they bought and gives them to her mother.

"Then we'll have cheese bread for the whole weekend," Clara says. "Your father came by earlier to buy some for Lewis."

Y/n coos looking at her father.

"Look how cute you are! Spoiling your son-in-law more than me and Gab" Y/n nudges her father's shoulder and he rolls his eyes.

Lewis smiles.

"Let's go inside! We were there on the deck before you arrived" Clara opens the large front door of the house.

Y/n calls Roscoe to come inside, but he was so excited running around the house without a leash that he didn't even hear his owners calling.

"ROSCOE!! COME ON MAN!" Lewis yells, nothing from him came. He just ran.

"This dog has more energy than Lewis in GP" Y/n comments and smiles.

Lewis laughs amusedly

"That's because he doesn't even need training. Roscoe just needs love and cookies." Clara says, making her son-in-law smile.

After much struggle, Roscoe comes to Lewis and enters the house. Exploring everything inside.

As they walked to the porch, Y/n looked at Lewis and for a moment felt a surge of gratitude. It felt good to be back, surrounded by family, with the man she had chosen by her side. Everything felt exactly as it should be.

"So, how was the trip? Was the flight very crowded?" Y/n's mother asked as she walked through the room,

Lewis was watching Roscoe walk around the house, while he had one hand holding his wife's shoulder.

"It went well, we had no turbulence. Lewis slept the whole flight"

"Hey!!" He turns his head towards her and smiles. "You don't have to expose me like that."

They laugh.

Once settled on the deck, Clara brought a tray with coffee, juices and some snacks. Roscoe was sitting on the porch rug, watching the birds flying through the trees around him.

"Roscoe already jumps on one!" Lewis speaks, referring to the birds.

Y/n laughs and sits down on a chair, petting the dog.

"Where's Gab-?"

Before he could finish, his brother's voice echoed down the stairs of the house, followed by the hurried sound of his footsteps. He appeared in the doorway, an amused smile on his face.

"Finally! I thought you guys had given up on coming,"

They turn and see Gabriel standing at the large door that led to the deck. Y/n smiles and stands up to hug him.

"Give up on beating you in the GP on Sunday? No way!!" Lewis greeted his brother-in-law with a brief hug and a touch of complicity. "How are you?"

"Keep dreaming, Hamilton. I'm going to leave you behind here in Brazil." Gabriel laughs. "I'm fine!"

Lewis responds in Portuguese: "Vou deixar você para trása!"

Y/n lets out a loud laugh, before correcting her husband's Portuguese, "Dear, it's: Para trás ,"

"Hey, poor thing. Don't laugh," Clara says, and Yin laughs more.

When Hamilton started dating the Brazilian woman, he made a big effort to learn to speak Portuguese, so that it would be easier to live with her family. She thought it was the cutest thing. And to this day, he took a few classes before coming to Brazil. And he is making progress, his communication is much better.

Y/n's parents also made an effort to learn English. To welcome Lewis.

Gabriel approaches his sister: "I missed you, old lady" he hugs his sister.

She slaps him on the shoulder. "Hey!!" Y/n can't help but laugh. "Okay, I'm in my 30s, but let's tone it down."

Gab laughs.

Lewis watched the interaction, laughing along. "You're brave to call her that."

Gabriel shrugged, blinking. "It's the only advantage of being the youngest. I'm untouchable."

The family smiles.

"Roscoe, hi champ!" Gabriel calls the dog and he gets up excitedly heading towards the man.

Gabriel gives him a caress and soon Roscoe leaves. "I'm going to pick up Isabella at her parents' house. Does anyone want to come with me?"

Y/n stands up: "Me!! I miss Isabella!" She says smiling as she touches her sister-in-law's name.

Before leaving with his brother, Y/n approached Lewis and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Behave yourself, okay? Don't eat all the cheese bread without me."

Lewis held her hand, smiling. "I promise not to end it all. Enjoy and send a kiss to Isabella."

"Okay. Come on, old lady." Gabriel puts an arm around his sister's shoulder and Yin pats his shoulder again.

"Shut up!"

The family laughs.

Lewis stayed at home, talking to his in-laws and taking the opportunity to rest from the trip. Tomorrow he would start training and it would be tough.

Lincoln, Y/n and Gabriel's father, stood up, saying he was going to start the barbecue. Lewis stayed with Dona Clara on the deck talking.

"So Lewis... When are the grandchildren coming?" She says, nudging her son-in-law's tattooed arm.

Lewis lowers his head shyly and laughs.

"We're, um, trying..." He stops and rethinks what he said. "Wait, let me try again..." He makes Clara laugh. "That's not quite it." He looks at Clara, more nervous now. "We're preparing, I guess. And, that's the right word."

"Preparing?"

"Yeah. Yin's started weekly appointments with her gynecologist and is trying to be healthier before she actually decides it's time to have a baby," he says, watching Roscoe run off. "She's also trying to quit smoking. You know how she is when she's nervous. She takes it all out on nicotine." Clara nods, knowing about the daughter she has. "We're taking it slow so that everything will go smoothly when we finally get pregnant." He smiles and Clara gives him a beautiful mother-in-law smile.

"You're right." She smiles and rests her hand on her son-in-law's arm. "You're a great husband. And I know you'll be a great father too. Both of you." She smiles.

"I hope I live up to it," he smiles at the compliment.

"Yes, it is." Clara gets up to get another cup of coffee. "I just hope it doesn't take too long. I want to see this house full of children during the holidays."

Lewis laughs.

"We promise!" He smiles.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Next day - Friday, Interlagos.

The day dawned cloudy, the overcast sky reflecting the typical weather in São Paulo at that time of year. Lewis left early for the paddock, as usual, leaving Y/n to rest a little longer in the apartment. It was a busy morning at the circuit, with fans crowded outside and teams racing against time to adjust the cars before free practice.

Y/n arrived about two hours after Lewis. As she walked around, dressed in comfortable clothes, she politely greeted fans who called her name and took a photo with some who asked.

She stopped to take a selfie with a young fan who held a sign that read: 'Bortoleto-Hamilton is our champion!'

Y/n smiled genuinely and said, "Thank you, you made my day!"

The sounds of engines warming up echoed through the paddock corridors, mixed with the excited voices of fans and the constant clicking of photographers' cameras.

As they approached the garages, journalists behind the iron fences began to bombard her with questions about her brother, her husband and her career. Photographers took pictures of every move Bortoleto-Hamilton made.

With so many asking questions, she stopped in front of a young journalist, who was holding a microphone with the logo of a local sports channel.

"How do you balance your career with traveling to keep up with Lewis?"

"I think because I'm his sports agent, the balance between our careers and travel is flexible. What really causes a headache is deciding which sponsorship to choose for Lewis," she replies smiling.

"Do you often give your opinions on strategies or do you prefer to just be supportive as a wife? Does he usually listen to you?"

Y/n smiles: "I even joke with him sometimes about strategy, but honestly, I prefer to leave that to the engineers. He's the one who understands the subject, so I just support him from outside the track. But I think he even listens when I give an opinion!"

Upon hearing the answer, the journalist smiled, nodding, while in the background the clicks of the cameras seemed to have increased, Y/n knew that any word from her was a full plate for the headlines.

"Good morning. It's great to see you here in the Paddock. But what the fans want to know... is... Are you team Bortoleto or Hamilton this weekend?" He asks amusedly, and Y/n can't help but laugh.

"Now you've got me," she smiles. "But since I'm both a Bortoleto and a Hamilton, I have to say I'm torn. I want them both to do great.

"Who knows, maybe a double podium? Then no one will complain!" She laughs. "A podium is always our goal!"

With a farewell wave, Y/n continued through the paddock, her firm steps taking her towards the Ferrari garage, where she knew that Lewis was already fully focused on training.

As she got closer to the Ferrari garage, she could already hear the loud engine noises and engineers talking loudly. Yin politely greeted those she passed along the way.

"Hey Charles!" She greets Lewis's teammate.

"Hey, Y/n! Here to watch the boss?" he teased, winking slightly before heading to the driver's room.

She laughed in agreement, "Always, isn't it?"

As soon as Lewis saw her, his face lit up. He walked towards her with a warm smile, gently pulling her in for a kiss.

"It's finally here"

"I was late because I was dealing with reporters," she said, laughing. "They always ask me who I'm rooting for. Can you believe it? After all this time."

Lewis chuckles, his hands on her waist.

"I've also been asked a lot about Gabriel. You're becoming a secondary subject," she jokes, poking her husband's chest, covered by his red uniform.

"I'll take second place. But only if it's for him," Lewis joked. "He deserves it. I remember when I raced at home for the first time in Formula 1. It's an inexplicable feeling."

She nodded, crossing her arms and walking slowly with Lewis into the garage. "Did you sleep well? You look like you woke up thinking about the car."

Lewis smirks. "I slept very well and you know why."

She rolls her eyes smiling, we make her cheeks swell.

"But yeah, I slept well. And yeah, I've been thinking about the car a bit. But overall it's been fine," he says, grabbing his helmet.

Before she could respond, Lewis's engineer approached with a clipboard in hand. "Sorry to interrupt, but we need you to test the car now, before we adjust anything else."

"Sure," Lewis replied, exchanging a knowing look with Y/n.

"Go on, honey!! I'll be watching you," she says, leaving a kiss on his cheek and another on his helmet.

Lewis returned the kiss with a quick peck before getting into the car. Soon, the roar of the engine echoed through the garage as he pulled out onto the track.

Y/n took the headphones given to her by one of the engineers and sat down next to the monitors, watching each lap on the TV. Her eyes followed each curve, attentive to Lewis's precision as he communicated details about the car over the radio.

Hamilton must have been on lap five, while Y/n was looking at the monitors, until she saw Gabriel drive the Sauber car past the Ferrari garage. This caught the woman's attention.

With one last look at the monitor, she excused herself from the Ferrari engineers and handed over her headphones to go after her brother.

She walked a few garages until she reached her brother's garage. Gabriel got out of the car and took off his helmet when he saw his sister standing at the door, with a smile on her face and her arms crossed.

"Hey, sis!" He pulls the balaclava off his face. "Come to spy on the competition?" Gabriel jokes, as he hands the helmet to one of his mechanics and walks over to his sister, pulling her into a loving brotherly hug.

"I am the eyes that see everything" she smiles, leaving the hug, and Gabriel asks her to go further into the garage.

She excused herself and smiled politely. They knew that the woman was Bortoleto's sister. They knew her from other races and genetics did not deny it.

"How was training?" She asks, as she leans against a wall and crosses her arms, watching her brother take a big swig of water from his bottle.

"It was good. The car is better than last time. Just a few tweaks to the aerodynamics." He replies, closing the bottle.

Y/n smiles in agreement. "So? How does it feel to race on the Interlagos track for the first time, with the stands full of Brazilians?" She smiles more.

Gabriel's shy smile widened even more, and Y/n saw, for an instant, the 5-year-old boy, with a helmet bigger than his head, dreaming of racing a go-kart.

"It feels amazing," he said, finally sitting down on a nearby stool. "I'm not going to lie, it made a lump in my throat. I remembered all the years of dedication and effort. It was like... I don't know, it all made sense. And it's only Friday! I know Sunday will be even better more intense." He paused for a moment, looking down at his feet, before adding, "But that comforts me too. I'm home."

Y/n smiles from ear to ear.

"I'm so proud of you, little one." She lightly pushes the brunette's shoulder. "I know all the years were worth it."

"Of course, I had my sister by my side the whole time," he smiles, thanking her. "I know that without your support I would have nothing. Our parents were there. But you are an extra boost to our family. We would be nothing without you. Both me, mom and dad. And especially Lewis!" He says softly, making Y/n gather a few tears in her eyes.

She turned her face quickly, wiping away a stubborn tear. "Oh, stop. You're going to make me cry in the middle of the paddock."

Gabriel smiles, before teasing his older sister. "Sentimental old lady."

Y/n rolls her eyes laughing.

Gabriel thinks for a moment about a more relaxed subject, because if he kept talking, his sister wouldn't stop crying anymore, and he definitely doesn't know what to do when someone starts crying. And he knows what a sister he has.

"And Lewis? Are you already thinking about how to not let Sauber pass?" He jokes.

Y/n laughed. "He said he'll accept second place, but only for you and only here in Brazil!"

Gabriel laughed

"It's okay. I respect my brother-in-law."

"Well, just don't be too respectful," she teased. "I still want you on the podium, got it?"

Y/n and Gabriel were still laughing when a movement in front of the garage caught their attention. She turned her head and saw Lewis approaching the garage, with his jumpsuit half open and headphones around his neck.

After so many years, he still took her breath away.

"Lewis. Come in!" Gabriel says, as if the garage were his home and Lewis a regular visitor.

Y/n laughs, his Brazilian accent sounding good.

Lewis laughed, stopping to greet a few of the mechanics politely as he approached. The atmosphere already seemed more relaxed with his arrival.

Y/n automatically smiled when she saw her husband. The way he carried himself, with that natural confidence and usual charm, made her heart warm every time.

"Well, apparently, the boss is here passing information to her rival, right?" Lewis joked, casting an amused glance at Yin and then at Gabriel. "Or is she taking information for me, youngest?"

Y/n rolls her eyes laughing.

She loved the friendship they had as brother-in-law and fellow athlete.

"I'm neutral, okay?" Yin threw up her hands, laughing. "Family is family. There's no spying here."

"That's what you want me to believe," Lewis retorted, feigning suspicion and nudging his wife's shoulder.

Gabriel just laughed, shaking his head. "You know she's impartial, Lewis. But if you want, you can try to bribe me with some tips on the Ferrari car."

"No way," Lewis replied, pointing at him with a smirk.

Y/n laughs at the exchange of provocations between the brothers-in-law.

"Are morning trainings over?"

"Yes!" They both answer together.

"I was thinking. We could have lunch together before we come back here in the afternoon again!" Y/n says, uncrossing her arms and looking at her brother and husband, "Like family!"

"Sure, let's go!" Lewis looks at his brother-in-law.

"I'll go, only if you're paying." He points to his older sister.

"Of course. It's the role of older brothers." She rolls her eyes and they both laugh.

Leaving the garage, the woman waits for her brother and husband to change, so they can leave the Paddock and go to lunch.

"You know, I was just thinking..." Gabriel arrives after Lewis, and sees his brother-in-law hugging his older sister sideways.

"I'm scared when the sentence starts like that Y/n laughs, as they start walking away from the garages.

"Where are my nephews?" Gabriel asks and Lewis laughs.

"Huh, I don't know. You don't have any nephews." Y/n teases.

"That's right!! Where are they?" Gab says, and looks at his brother-in-law. "Lewis, please. Do your part!" He provokes the older man.

Y/n lowers her head and laughs.

"I'm trying. She's the one who's complicated," Lewis pretended to whisper to his brother-in-law, and they laughed. "You know what your sister is like..."

"HEYY!" She complains. "I'm here!! And in the middle of the two she says smiling.

The two men just laugh.

Finally leaving the garages, they arrive at the beginning of the Paddock, where it is full of fans, journalists and photographers.

When they saw the trio, they started asking questions and taking pictures. There were flashes coming from every possible direction. And it was also impossible not to hear the euphoric screams of the fans coming from the stands nearby.

"Let's stop at the headlines" Lewis comments and the Bortoleto brothers laugh.

"Ferrari driver is seen leaving hand in hand with Bortoleto's sister, Sauber driver. Who was with them." Yin creates a headline and they laugh. "And I bet some won't even know we're married" she looks at Lewis.

Lewis smiles.

"Or else...Ferrari couple decides to adopt Sauber driver as a son, since they won't budge to have one of their own." Gabriel provokes the couple again, about them not having children yet.

"Aaaah shut up" Y/n says between laughs.

Lewis and Gabriel exchange a laugh.

As they headed out of the paddock, Y/n couldn't help but smile. As intense and chaotic as the world of Formula 1 was, moments like this, alongside the people I loved, were the ones that really mattered.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

Race day Sunday, Interlagos.

The day in São Paulo dawned hot and cloudy, typical of the city, but the energy at the Interlagos Race Track was electrifying.

Gabriel and Lewis arrived much earlier than they usually arrived at the racetracks.

Perhaps because it was the rookie's first time on the Brazilian track.

Y/n only heard Lewis whisper something like 'I'm going to the racetrack early, and I'll stop by your parents' to pick up Gab'. The woman just gave a thumbs up with her finger, and turned to the other side of the bed.

Lewis laughed and left their city apartment.

Now, Y/N walked through the paddock alongside her parents, greeting the fans who approached. Even though she was nervous, she maintained the polite and charismatic posture that won everyone over, while taking some photos with fans.

Y/n was always nervous for races, this increased even more when Gabriel arrived in Formula 1. But today, today the nervousness was coming out of Y/n's eyes, ears and mouth.

"Good luck to Lewis today! And Gabriel too!" said a fan, as soon as she took a picture with Y/n.

Y/N smiled, even with her heart racing, returning the girl's cell phone with trembling hands: "Thank you!"

Y/n's parents, who were further away, saw their daughter's nervousness and exchanged a worried look.

Y/n walks back to where her parents were waiting for her, her comfortable sneakers making a noise on the asphalt.

"Daughter, calm down. You've been to so many races. Today is no different."

Y/n tries to smile and hooks her arm through her father's arm.

"I know. But today is Gab's first day running in Brazil. And you know how it is with Lewis. How I feel when he runs

The parents exchanged a friendly smile.

"The way you are, it looks like you're the one who's going to run today." Lincoln says, making Yin smile.

Walking a little further, they arrived at the beginning where all the garages were. Y/n looked around, trying to locate her husband or brother.

"Here old lady!" She heard her brother's unmistakable voice. Y/n turned around and saw Lewis and Gabriel walking side by side, already dressed in their uniforms.

Y'n laughs before answering. "Hey, look at my boys over there," she says, and Lewis walks over and pulls her in for a kiss. Soon, her brother hugs his sister, followed by their parents. "How are you?"

"We're fine. A little nervous, but that's normal," Lewis says.

"Unlike your wife, who was shaking with nervousness until now," Bortoleto's father says.

"Good!!"

Lewis turns to his wife, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Hey, don't be like that. You run so many races and you never get this nervous. Relax!" He kisses the top of her head.

"Difficult. But I'll try!!" Y/n smiles.

Gabriel approaches the couple, touching his sister's shoulder: "We were going for a walk around the track. Do you want to come with us?"

Y/n smiles, "Of course!"

"Your father and I will be in the VIP area, up there. See you later," Clara says, kissing her children's heads and squeezing her son-in-law's shoulder.

Lewis smiles

The trio headed towards the track, walking around the circuit while talking. The view of the race track was breathtaking, with the stands already packed with excited fans.

Y/n was saying something about her and her husband's life in Italy now, when Gabriel started to look at her.

"Why are you still wearing a coat?" he asks. "We've been walking for about 10 minutes in this hot sun and you didn't even think to take it off."

"True!! I'm sweating here in my uniform and I can't take it off and you're in your coat" Lewis says.

"No, I'm fine like this!" She says, but in fact, she has a surprise under her coat.

"You're sick!" Gabriel says, before they move on to the subject.

As they approached the stands, fans began to notice the presence of Lewis and Gabriel. A small commotion broke out, with shouts and people asking for photos and autographs.

Gabriel was the first to stop and wave to the fans, followed by Lewis, who seemed to be used to the affection of the fans. While the two took pictures and signed shirts, Y/n stood further away, watching the scene with a proud smile.

"Y/N, Y/N!!" A fan screamed, Y/n walked over to where Lewis and Gabriel were. Leaning on her husband's shoulder so she could hear the woman over the crowd's screams. "We want to know, which team are you rooting for in today's GP. Due to the circumstances of us being in Brazil" The fan says and points to the woman's jacket. A light denim jacket.

Usually, she arrived in a Ferrari to cheer on her husband. But the Brazilian GP deserved something surprising.

Y/n laughs at the question.

"Everyone asks that, and I say it's for Lewis and Gabriel. No team, I have my own private drivers," she says, making some laugh. Especially Hamilton and the youngest.

As she took off her coat, Y/n felt her heart race. She had been planning this moment for months, thinking about how to honor the two most important men in her life.

The screams echoed like thunder, and some fans began jumping in excitement while others frantically took photos.

The woman was wearing a Brazilian T-shirt. From the front, it looked plain, but when she turned around, her brother’s and husband’s car numbers were glued on with little stones. Next to each number was embroidered the coat of arms of each country.

Lewis and Gabriel found themselves together when the screams started and Yin was too quiet. When they saw it, their eyes widened and a wide smile fell on both of their lips.

They definitely had no idea of the woman's surprise.

"You're kidding!" Gab says in disbelief and still laughing. He does a 360 on his sister and smiles. "You did this to us?"

"Obviously!!" She says and laughs.

Lewis was still standing in place, with the få pen in one hand and a Ferrari t-shirt in the other.

Lewis held her hand for a moment, intertwining their fingers. "You amaze me every day, you know that?" he said softly, but the sparkle in his eyes spoke louder than any words.

"The Brazilian GP deserved a surprise. Because of our entire history!"

"You know what would look better?" Gab says. Lewis and Y/n looking at the boy.

The newbie borrows a pen from a fan and approaches his sister.

"Our autographs!" She says and Yin lets out a laugh.

Lewis smiles at his brother-in-law's idea and does the same, lending the pen and signing the front of his wife's shirt and returning it with the autographed Ferrari shirt for the fan.

"This should be in a museum!" Hamilton says, looking intently into his wife's eyes.

She smiles shyly.

With a quick movement, Gabriel picks up his sister and puts her on his shoulder. She screams in fright, trying to balance herself, while Lewis stands behind his brother-in-law in case she falls.

"LET ME GO, YOU'RE NO GOOD!" She says between laughs, making everyone smile at the Bortoleto brothers' amusement.

The youngest obeys his older sister and puts her on the floor again. She smiles and pats him on the shoulder.

As soon as they returned to the Paddock, everyone couldn't take their eyes off the Brazilian's shirt. This would result in many, many media posts throughout the week.

Hours passed, and the race was about to start. Lewis was inside the garage getting ready when he realized that Yin was not there. He thought she might be in her brother's garage with her family. But Dona Clara stopped by the Ferrari garage asking about her daughter too. So, she was definitely not with her brother.

Lewis asks permission from the garage staff and especially from his engineer, who was talking to him, to go after his wife.

He went out the back door of the garage, and called for his wife. Nothing.

In a place away from the garages and the eyes of fans and the media, Y/n was sitting on a wall with a cup of black coffee in her hands and a lit cigarette in her fingers, while inhaling the nicotine.

"Y/n?" Hearing her husband's voice, the Brazilian woman hides the cigarette behind her back and smiles.

Lewis spots her and walks towards the woman. "I thought I lost you," he says laughing, and then sees smoke coming from behind the woman. "Hey, what's that behind you?"

Y/n smiles without showing her teeth.

"Nothing! Just...just my cup of coffee," she says, lifting the cup and placing her other hand behind her back.

Lewis rolls his eyes, laughing a little. "No, behind you. There's smoke coming out." He crosses his arms, a little serious now. "Are you smoking?"

Defeated, Yin lets out a sigh and pulls the cigarette forward again. Halfway through already. "Yes..."

"What did we agree on, honey?" Hamilton says softly now, taking the cigarette from her hands and stubbing it out on the floor with his foot. "No cigarettes. For your health and for our future baby!"

'Our future baby.'

Those words warmed her in a way she hadn’t expected. No matter how nervous she was, she knew she had to be better, not just for herself, but for the family she and Lewis were about to build.

"I know. But the Brazilian GP is getting on my nerves." She looks at the floor. "I know the fans are really looking forward to Gabriel.

"It's okay. You have concerns about Gab because it's his debut in his home country. But don't worry, Gab knows what he's doing on the track." Lewis pulls the woman into a hug.

She felt the familiar warmth of Lewis's embrace and realized that even in the most tense situations, he had the power to make the world seem less scary.

"Now let's go! I need my extra energy in the pits so I can race." Hamilton places a peck on the woman's lips.

Y/n responds and gets up, going hand in hand with Lewis to the Ferrari garage.

The race was about to begin. It would definitely be time.

Leaving the hiding place that Y/n had found for herself, Lewis and his wife walked through the back of the garages, passing by the Sauber garage. She saw her younger brother, Gabriel looked and made a victory sign and pointed to his heart, as if to say: For you, sis. Yin felt her eyes water, but quickly wiped the corner of her eye, sending a kiss in the air to her youngest.

Arriving at the Ferrari garage, Lewis began preparing to enter the track. Putting on his helmet and about to get into the car, he turned to his wife.

"God bless you, my love," she kisses her husband's helmet. "I'll be here cheering you on." Lewis returns with a tight hug and gets into the car. Giving a kiss in the air.

She smiles and watches her husband come out of the garage, putting on his headphones and taking a deep breath, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. She hears Lewis's voice on the radio, steady and confident, as he makes the final adjustments to the radio.

Remembering that Lewis had taken pole position and Gab was in 10th, his heart began to beat in time with the engines.

The engines roared as the cars lined up on the grid. The red lights began to go out one by one, and in the blink of an eye, they were in motion. The race had begun, and tension filled every fiber of his body.

The first few laps were intense. Lewis quickly moved up to P2, and Gabriel surprised everyone, climbing to P6 in just a few laps.

Y/n couldn't deny it, the race was tense. Two drivers had crashed right at the beginning. Her heart raced, just thinking about this happening to her husband or brother. But the dark thoughts disappeared when she received a message from her mother, who was in the Sauber pit.

"Gab's engineer says everything is going well, he'll be in the pits to change the tyres shortly. How's Lewis?"

Y/n smiles and answers her mother, saying that there were some problems with Lew's car, but that they would soon fix it.

On lap 65, Lewis took the lead after a perfect pit stop, but when he heard his voice on the radio, his heart sank.

"The car is slow on the straights. I need more power! The frustration in Lewis's voice was evident. Y/n pressed the headphones against her ears, trying not to show her nervousness.

"Lewis, try to stay calm. Bortoleto is 18 seconds behind you. There's still a chance you could take first place!"

Lewis quickly responds over the radio, leaving Y/n with her heart in her mouth.

With one lap to go, Lewis was still leading, but Gabriel was right on his tail.

"Hey Lewis, your brother-in-law is on your tail. 5 seconds difference" Hamilton's engineer says, and they can hear the driver's laughter over the radio.

Lewis knew he had a chance of losing first place, Bortoleto was right there, but he couldn't be frustrated to see his brother-in-law win in Brazil.

"Tell Y/n that I won't go easy on her brother," he says amusedly over the radio and Y/n, who had headphones on, listened and laughed.

All playful eyes turned to her in the garage.

Each corner was contested with millimeter precision. In the penultimate sector, Gabriel saw the opportunity and made a bold maneuver, overtaking Lewis on the inside. The crowd went wild.

Tears were already streaming down the woman's eyes. The checkered flag began to wave. Gab came in first, with Lewis right behind him in second and Charles in third.

A heavy sigh left Y/n's lungs, she took off her headphones and placed her hands on her knees, bending down and letting out a sob.

"Two podiums in the family. You'll need a cup too, Y/n." One of the Ferrari engineers jokes, looking at Hamilton's wife.

"A sedative right now is more than enough," she says, smiling and sniffling with tears.

Looking at the monitor, she saw Lewis and Gabriel's car approaching the garages. She left the phone on the table and ran out,

She looked around, trying to understand where they were coming from, until Lewis's car appeared at considerable speed. He got out and hugged his wife tightly.

"I'm so proud of you, darling!" She says, kissing his helmet again.

Lewis takes off his helmet and balaclava, pulling his wife into a passionate kiss. "It was an incredible race. I gave it my all, but to see Gab win here was something special. I think the Brazilian GP will always be in his family."

Y'n smiles, touching her husband's face: "You were perfect. You will always be my champion." She pulls him in for another kiss.

"Now, go celebrate with your brother. We can continue our celebration in the apartment's bedroom later." He says in her ear, making her shiver.

She smiles and leaves Lewis with the team grinning crookedly.

Arriving at the Sauber garage, he sees his brother hugging his parents and the team. Someone touches Gabriel's shoulder, saying that you were there. The youngest turns and sees his sister crying with a wide smile on her face.

"First place, huh, little guy!" She approaches her brother and hugs him.

"I'm still numb. It's strange to hear so many people shouting my name," he says muffledly, as he's hugging his younger sister.

Y/n laughed in response, pulling out of the hug. Gab kept his hands on her shoulders. "So, I saw your fingers crossed in the Ferrari garage. You said you were going to root for both of them!!!"

The Brazilian rolls her eyes laughing. "I was hoping neither of them would crash, that's what!" she says, and then sees Júlia approaching. "Go over there with your girlfriend before you get on the podium!" She pushes her brother and sees them hugging.

Clara approaches her daughter, smiling. "Hey, are you okay? Your heart must be racing seeing your husband and brother on the podium."

Y/n laughs and hugs her mother from the side. "Now that I'm able to breathe

Minutes later, everyone in Interlagos heard the Brazilian anthem playing, while Gabriel was on the podium in first place. Y/n was down there, with a smile on her face and tears almost falling again. Lewis saw her and smiled at her. A smile that overflowed with love.

Shy Y/n sends a kiss in the air and Lewis pretends to catch it, making them both laugh at their own joke.

When it was time to pop the champagne bottles, Gabriel, with a mischievous smile on his face, quickly approached Lewis and, without hesitation, began to throw all the liquid in the direction of his brother-in-law. The champagne splashed all over Lewis's red uniform, and he was initially startled, feeling the cold liquid seep through his overalls.

"Oh, is that how it is?" He smiles back, his eyes shining with amusement, and in one swift movement, he grabs the bottle of champagne and pops it, splashing the liquid all over Gabriel.

Gabriel, now completely soaked in champagne, lets out a loud laugh. Making Y/n smile down below, as she watched the two fight like children.

"Today I'm going home dry," Charles says smiling. Lewis and Gabriel exchange a knowing look and, in a synchronized movement, throw the rest of the champagne from the bottle at Charles.

"NO!! I didn't want to get into this family champagne fight" he jokes cringing.

Lewis and Gabriel laughed, before leaving the podium to give some interviews.

During the interviews, Lewis smiles proudly as he praises Gabriel's performance, and Gabriel returns the compliment, saying that one of his greatest inspirations on the track has always been his brother-in-law. The connection between the two is clear, and the Brazilian public, euphoric, recognizes the friendship and respect between them.

Hamilton, who was now in the Ferrari garage with his wife, was talking about how proud he was of his brother-in-law, until he started hearing loud music approaching the Paddock.

Y/n lowers her head laughing, already knowing who it is.

The two leave the garage and go to the Paddock, seeing Gabriel with a speaker bigger than him with loud music, his girlfriend laughing behind, shaking her head.

"ARE YOU GOING TO LOSE YOUR EARDRUMS LIKE THIS?" Y/n speaks loudly, watching her brother.

Gabriel, with an irreverent smile, makes a gesture indicating that he doesn't care about the volume. The music stops, and then a new Brazilian song starts playing. Y/n's eyes widen, and can't help but start dancing, approaching her brother enthusiastically.

Julia approached Lewis smiling. "It's our burden for dating Brazilians" she laughed, making her brother-in-law smile and watch his wife celebrate with her brother.

"I wouldn't trade it for anything!" He smiles lovingly, seeing his wife.

Julia crosses her arms, smiling too. "Neither do I..." The two share a moment of understanding, before turning back to the joyful chaos in front of them.

Y/n continues dancing, caught up in the music and the joy of the moment. Gabriel joins her, and little by little, Lewis and Júlia join in the dance, everyone joining in a spontaneous celebration. Brazilian music, with its vibrant rhythm, unites everyone, and for a few moments, there are no rivalries, just family and happiness.

At that moment, Lewis smiled. He couldn't choose another family to be a part of this madness. And he was already very excited to expand the Hamilton-Bortoleto family with Y/n by his side.

Author: As a Brazilian, I'm addicted to this song. And then, I imagined Y/n and Gabriel dancing to this one in the Paddock hahaha.

#fanfiction #y/n #romance #lovers #marriage #imagines #one shot #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton #formula 1 #formula one #drive #gabriel bortoleto #Spotify

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qwimblenorrisstan · 7 months ago

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A New Dawn | Eris x Reader

Summary: Feyre grows closer to you, a close friend of Lucien’s, as you visit him while she’s in Spring Court. During that time, she learns of you being given to Eris as a servant by Amarantha, but no one could’ve suspected how deep the relationship between you and the Autumn Court heir went.

Word Count: ~ 1.1k

Warnings: Mentions of slavery, tyranny, pregnancy, also this entire fic is mainly in Feyre’s perspective btw

A/N: This is actually my first attempt at writing for Eris (all bc of a cute request), but if you like it then lmk and I might try more, hope you enjoy <3

Requests are open!

Feyre Archeron first met you at Tamlin’s manor, when she was still stuck as a human in a land of immortals that were trapped and bound by Amarantha. She’d been taking a walk through the house with Lucien, him explaining all the paintings in the gallery’s old, dusty collection that he knew of, and her eagerly listening, wanting to scrape up any lick of knowledge she could get.

That was when she’d seen you, coming from Tamlin’s office, him grave-faced and you just looking sad. You saw Lucien and perked up a bit, and he eagerly pulled you into his arms and held you.

“Who is..?”

Feyre spoke, trailing off at the silent tears you shed while Lucien held you close, his face buried in your shoulder. When you finally pulled away, the fiery male wiped your tears away with his thumb and glanced towards Feyre, you also looked at her.

“Y/N, this is Feyre, Feyre, this is Y/N.”

He said simply, a bit of his usual charm lacking because of the raw emotion in his tone. Feyre hadn’t known then why you’d been wide-eyed looking at her, turning to Tamlin and whispering some questions her human hearing couldn’t pick up, but she now knew exactly why you’d been shocked to find a human there during that time.

She was the cursebreaker, and you’d suspected that she would be the one from the moment you saw her.

You eventually had to leave, with whispered words to Lucien and more silent tears, before you had mounted a horse, even though running would be faster, and ventured back off to Under the Mountain.

“Where is she going?”

Feyre had asked Lucien. The male had only shook his head.

“Under the Mountain. She was..gifted to my brother as his servant, and she’s stuck there.”

He said, sentences carefully worded in the true manner of the fox-like male. Feyre found that horrifying, the thought of being gifted to a male, forced to serve him and do gods know what for him, being stuck there and only able to leave by delivering messages to other Courts. If only she knew the truth.

However, you sometimes got excuses or reasons to leave and stay at Spring longer than necessary, and you became a sort of salvation for Feyre. You would take her out into Spring Court to your favorite bakery, or the shops that were open at the time. Even when she asked, you never had a good reason for why some were closed, nor did Tamlin.

You slowly spent more time together, and she told you of her sisters, of Nesta’s hostility, Elain’s love for gardening and the flowers she’d grow with the spare change they had after selling skins, or how she grew up hunting. In exchange, you would tell Feyre all about your life growing up, how you and Lucien had been in the same age group and because of your High Fae status, you’d been friends for centuries.

“I’ll see you next visit,”

You would tell her every time, but this time seemed different. It seemed more like a final farewell. She gave a concerned look.

“When will you be back?”

“I don’t know, but I hope I see you again.”

It turned out that the next time you saw her was when you had a leash around your neck like a dog, Eris holding the chain to the collar as you both watched Feyre fight for her life in the challenges Amarantha proposed to her.

“Do you think she’ll live?”

You’d asked him quietly, and Eris had responded point-blank.

“No.”

But the glimmer of hope in his eyes as he glanced at you, a silent apology promising a future together if this human did manage to free you, a future where you weren’t chained and he wasn’t trapped.

Well, you’d almost gotten that when Feyre had given her life to free Prythian’s people, and come back as High Fae. Almost, but not quite.

“Just a little longer, darling, I promise.”

He would murmur to you every night as you had to act as his servant, attend to his every need, and act like the two of you weren’t painfully in love every day and night. That was, until, the night Beron was assassinated, shot dead with an ash arrow right through his black, soulless heart during a private conference between him and some higher-up you hadn’t bothered to learn the name of.

The next time Feyre had seen you, she’d been accompanied by Nyx and Rhys, Nyx on her hip as the other High Lords idly chattered, most of which were interested in how Eris would handle being High Lord of Autumn. Even more surprising, you’d been labeled High Lady of Autumn not shortly after.

They were still in for plenty of shock when you and Eris walked in, and the scent of budding, growing life spread through the room. Rhysand recognized it instantly, and the tiny bump on your stomach told everyone else what it was as well, not to mention the smug, satisfied face of Eris, clearly filled with pure male pride at his mate being pregnant.

“Oh wow, so you two were..?”

Feyre asked you while you chatted with her.

“We’ve been mates since before Amarantha, but we didn’t want to say because of Beron, then everything happened…it was a whole mess, but we worked it out.”

You replied with a warm smile on your face, one hand on your stomach. Rhys still seemed wary of Eris, rightfully so, but after seeing how the fiery male didn’t seem as conniving or rude, or even like the Eris he’d known for centuries at the meeting all because of his pregnant wife, or maybe because he didn’t have to play the role as the unassuming heir anymore, his mindset was slowly starting to change.

“Congratulations,”

Rhys had said to you and Eris, a slight genuine smile tugging at his lips as he’d patted Eris on the back, at which the other male stiffened slightly, but didn’t seem overly hostile.

Back at the townhouse, both having glasses of wine and idly sipping on them, Nyx already asleep, Feyre and Rhys chatted.

“I think they’re cute together,”

She said with a smile. Rhys chuckled lightly, shaking his head in amusement.

“She mellowed him out, for sure. I’m glad, I don’t think they could deal with another sassy High Lord out there other than me.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Really, though. They’re cute.”

Rhys let out a little hum of thought, before nodding.

“They are.”

#acotar fandom #acotar fanfiction #writers on tumblr #acotar x reader #acotar fluff #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris vandaddy #eris fluff #eris x you

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hgfictionwriter · 9 months ago

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Maybe This Time - Part Three

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie and you finally get some 1:1 time together (thanks Janine!). You work to build new memories together, but hurt from the past needs to be addressed.

Warnings: None. Temporary, very light angst, but mostly sweet fluff.

A/N: Part two and one.

"What do you think? Should I go for it?"

Jessie smirked as she saw the screenshot you sent her of her jersey in the Thorns' site shopping cart.

"I don't know. I thought you said that was too big a commitment."

"I did. But I was rather impressed at the last game. And we went for drinks after, I finally got to meet Janine – so you know, points for that. And if I think about it, I'm like an OG fan. But if you think I should get a different jersey..."

Jessie laughed under her breath, her smirk now a full blown smile as she read your message while she ate lunch. The conversation she'd been on the periphery of carried on as she ate another bite before typing out a reply.

"Oh yeah? Post-game drinks were a hit, huh? And you know, my stats are only getting better with each game 😉 And let's be honest, I'd be pretty offended if you got someone else's jersey. Except Sinc's. Because, you know, GOAT."

"Oh, well, say no more. You had me at 'stats' lol. Done. I'll pick it up before next game."

"Lol I figured. My plan all along – I know how much you love stats."

"You know me so well. I have to say, I'm kind of tempted to modify the jersey. Add some sort of patch or stitching, 'Yay sports!'"

Jessie laughed out loud, less discrete than before.

"Don't you dare lol. I've taught you better than that. But hey, if you ask nicely, I could actually sign it for you 😎"

"I'm sure I have an old group paper kicking around with your signature on it. I need to be able to wash this thing lol. What else can you offer though?"

Jessie swallowed her food hard, the bite getting caught temporarily in her throat with a wince. Okay, no signature – how humbling. However, there was an opening.

She stared at her phone temporarily before a loud clearing of someone's throat caught her attention. She lifted her gaze with a curious frown on her face to see Janine staring expectantly at her. Jessie instinctively tilted the phone inwards towards her body.

"I don't even have to spy to know who you're texting," the blonde said rather self-satisfied. Jessie looked around, heat building in her face already as she hoped Janine was the only one focused on her.

"Yeah?" Jessie retorted, attempting to appear as unfazed as possible. "You should be pleased. You keep pushing me to text her." She cracked a smirk. "Now that you don't think she's the devil incarnate for 'stringing me along' in university."

"Oh I don't think you need to be pushed," Janine teased with a wicked grin. "And I never said she was the devil incarnate." She lifted a hand to her chest in exaggeration. "I merely questioned things. But you're right," she relented, "she's quite lovely. And she gives you butterflies, and she makes you blush - more than usual - and you try to act all nonchalant and it's just too adorable for words."

"Uh huh," Jessie muttered with a flat look. Janine leaned in excitedly.

"And I have to say, I got the sense that she and I could riff off of each other and just tease the heck out of you, so that really sealed the deal for me."

Jessie rolled her eyes. "Oh yeah, that's exactly what I need in my life." She'd never admit that it actually excited her that her best friend and you could get along so well. If – and it was a huge 'if' - anything evolved between you two, it was key that you got along with her friends and family.

She started thinking about how well you got on with her parents and sister – you'd met before during your days at UCLA and they loved you. She also remembered how disappointed they'd seemed when she eventually told them that you two didn't speak anymore.

"Well, since you're so invested," Jessie went on, rolling her eyes facetiously once more as she opened her phone again and turned it to Janine, "what should I say?"

Janine squinted as she leaned in to read and it only took a moment for her expression to light up. Before Janine could say anything, Jessie snatched the phone back and placed it on her lap with a frown.

"I don't want to hear it," she pre-empted the girl.

"What?" Janine said innocently with a mischievous glint in her eye. "I am totally supportive of the flirtation between you two." She ignored Jessie's look of complaint and cut off her protest. "Her shutting down your autograph is pretty hilarious, by the way," she said with a marginally apologetic look. "Not smooth on your part – you know she's not impressed by your elite football skills. Don't lean on your Jessie the Footballer identity."

"I wasn't," Jessie nearly hissed, trying to keep her voice down and avoid drawing attention. "I was joking. Half joking."

"You were flirting, or at least attempting to. She left you an opening here though. So, you should ask her out."

"I'm not asking her out," Jessie pouted, her shoulders rounding as she scooched closer to the table. She huffed upon seeing the scrutinizing look her friend gave her. "We're still getting to know each other again."

"Fine. Don't define it as a date, then," Janine dismissed with a wave. She leaned in, folding her arms on the table. "Ask her to go for dinner."

"Basic," Jessie remarked as she sat up and crossed her arms in disapproval. She frowned. "Plus that's too date-like."

"Fine," Janine said curtly. "How about a hike?"

Jessie hummed and hawed, unconvinced. "Maybe someday. Doesn't seem right at this point though." Janine rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"Well, what did you two used to do back at UCLA?"

Jessie shrugged. She saw the frustration Janine was telegraphing at how unhelpful she was being and jumped in. "We went to drop-in art classes sometimes."

Janine held a hand up to the sky. "Thank you. Finally – something I can work with. Okay! Let's find a drop-in class for you two to go to then." She pulled out her phone and started browsing before shooting a look at Jessie as an aside. "Oh, and dinner's too date-llke, but an art class isn't? Okay."

Jessie grunted and pulled out her phone as well to look.

"Here," Jessie announced after a couple of minutes. "This'll work. She enjoyed painting."

Without further consultation, Jessie began to type out a message to you. She bit back a laugh at how Janine's head was bobbing around periodically trying to peek at the message from across the table.

"Don't send it yet! I want to see it," Janine pouted.

"You are not writing my messages for me," Jessie told her pointedly, but gave a heavy sigh as she turned her phone for the blonde to see. An affronted look crossed Jessie face as Janine let out a guffaw and snatched the phone out of her hand.

"No," Janine simply said with a wag of her finger before she started typing. Jessie reached out for the phone, but Janine turned her body away. Jessie clamored more, but stopped as soon as she noted some of their teammates glancing their way. She shrunk back into her seat, a hand rubbing the side of her face as she spoke in a harsh whisper. "What are you doing."

"Jeff. Relax. I would never lead you astray," Janine assured her. "And this is so very satisfying for me since I never got to help you with any of this during uni. Cause let me tell you, if I had been involved, you two definitely would've been living happily ever after."

Jessie breathed in exasperation. "Please. Give me my phone back."

"Okay, okay. Here," Janine said, all humour from her tone gone as she now offered Jessie a sincere smile. "Read it over, but I think this is good."

Jessie gave her a lingering stare as she took back her phone and let out another withering sigh before reading.

"Funny you should ask. I was thinking about how much I missed art classes together. How about I take you to one of the drop-in painting classes across town when I'm back from Houston?"

Jessie lifted her gaze to meet Janine's and she studied the blonde for a few moments before relenting with an inaudible sigh. It was better than her original "I don't know. Paint class?" reply. She hit send and released another heavy breath as she tucked the phone away once more.

"You're welcome," Janine said with a saccharine smile. Jessie gave her a fake smile in return, pulling a laugh out of the girl. "Hey, let's remember which one of us is engaged and which one of us is perpetually single."

"Ouch," Jessie said with a light laugh.

"I'm just teasing," Janine went on. "I genuinely hope this turns into something for you. Considering you've only come back into each other's lives, what, like a couple months ago? You two seem pretty solid already. And you seem happier."

Jessie wanted to give a dry retort of some kind, but Janine was right. You two talked every day now and the chemistry you had in university was still very much present. And the depth you once had in your friendship was something that was quite easily and naturally being broached again. Even if you'd both grown and changed, the cores of who you were still aligned well and fit together. Too well.

She'd more or less dismissed the spark of emotions that came up during your initial interactions as some sort of emotional muscle memory, but the feelings were proving to not be fleeting or diminishing.

If anything, her feelings for you were growing. And this time they felt different, too. Heavier, deeper in some way. She was a more realized person now, as were you, and it made the connection between you more substantial. Less juvenile.

Her phone buzzed. She opened her lock screen.

"That sounds like a lot of fun! Let's do it."

————

By the time your paint date night came around, Jessie was nearly buzzing with anticipation. It wasn’t an official date, of course, but she hadn’t seen you since that night after the game, and truthfully, it felt like it had been too long.

She was early - as usual - but as she rounded the corner to the building, she bit back a smile upon seeing you waiting. You were always early too, which she appreciated.

“Hey.” Jessie greeted as she approached. Again, she had to tamp her smile when you beamed back at her.

“Hey, good to see you,” you said as you stepped in for a hug, which Jessie reciprocated. “I love your shirt,” you continued when you stepped back.

“Oh,” Jessie said with a slight frown and a mild laugh as she looked down at herself in question. “Thanks,” she said as she gave a shrug and fought off a blush. She looked you up and down, not entirely discretely. “I like your outfit.”

You rolled your eyes affectionately and gave her a look. “You don’t need to reciprocate my compliment. But thank you.”

“I legitimately like your outfit,” Jessie retorted, her pitch rising and pulling a laugh out of you as you both walked towards the building. Jessie took a few quick steps and grabbed the door, holding it open. “After you.”

“Such service. Thank you,” you said, both teasing and appreciative. Jessie didn’t wink, but she did give a teasing lift of her eyebrows as you passed.

As the instructor gave their directions for the lesson, Jessie found herself distracted, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye. The whole lesson carried on like that, really. Jessie had to make a point to not fall behind as she’d uncharacteristically lose concentration. The worst, well, best, moments being when she'd lean over feigning critical assessment of your work when really she just wanted to be close.

By the end, she was decently satisfied with the forest landscape she’d painted. However, she felt it paled in comparison to the ocean sunset you’d crafted.

“I love your colours. And the little cabin you added is great,” you told her as you were both leaving, canvases in hand.

“Well good,” she said as she got to a clearing on the sidewalk and stopped to turn to you. “Consider it my gift to you,” she went on as she held it out to you.

“Jessie,” you said sweetly with a smile as you took it and looked it over more thoroughly. “That’s really sweet. Thank you. It’s beautiful. And bonus - I get my Jessie Fleming signature, but on a far rarer painting as opposed to a jersey,” you laughed. “And what a coincidence. I painted this for you.”

Jessie looked at you for a moment before a smile broke out across her face as she belatedly took the painting you held out.

“Thank you,” she said softly as she studied the image. She frowned in realization as she lifted her eyes to you. “Is this the same beach from our photo?”

You nodded. “It is. Nice eye.”

“Who knew you were so sentimental?” Jessie teased.

“Apparently not you,” you replied with a roll of your eyes, but gave a small laugh. “Come on. It’s been a while, but you know me better than that.”

Jessie was quiet for a moment as she took you in. She eventually nodded. “I know.”

A small lull fell over you both before you asked. “So, what now? Do you have to leave?”

“No.” Jessie spoke quickly with a shake of her head. “I don’t have anywhere to be. How about you?”

You shook your head in return. “Same. Well, it’s beautiful out tonight. Want to just go for a walk? We can drop these off at my car first,” you proposed as you held up the painting.

“Sure. Sounds great.”

After a short detour, you both began your stroll along the quiet, tree-lined street.

“Thanks for suggesting that class,” you said. “I don’t really get to paint or pursue creative hobbies as much anymore. It was nice to make a point of it. I can’t imagine you have much of an opportunity to focus on things like that anymore, hm?”

Jessie sighed quietly in contemplation and gave a shrug.

“Not extensively, no. But we do lots of team building, so sometimes we’ll do artsy things. And I can do hobbies and such in my down time, whether during the week or between seasons.”

She looked over to see you giving her a soft smile.

“What?” She asked.

“Nothing really. Just kind of crazy how everything turned out. You’ve achieved so much and your life is so impressive.”

Jessie was about to interject with a compliment for you, but you carried on.

“Are you happy with how things turned out?” You asked with a slight cock of your head.

“I-um, yeah.” Jessie stammered slightly, caught off guard by your question. “I mean, yeah it’s been incredible. More amazing than I could’ve ever pictured. And I know I’m very lucky.”

“You’re not lucky, Jess. You’ve worked exceptionally hard.”

She huffed lightly. “Yes, but luck is involved too. Lots of people work hard and still don’t get half the opportunities I’ve had.”

“I suppose,” you relented. “But you’ve made the most of those opportunities and haven’t taken them for granted.”

“That’s true. But look at you. You’ve worked so hard. And I know what you’ve been up against, but you’ve risen above and built a great life for yourself,” Jessie emphasized.

“Thank you,” you accepted with a half smile. Jessie knew the ins and outs of your family dynamics - something few people truly knew. You smiled more fully at her. “And look at us now. We both left LA and then found ourselves in the same city again and got to reconnect,” you finished with a laugh. "It sounds strange, but it really feels like in some ways like no time has passed. Not really, anyway. Like you and I were able to pick up where we left off."

You let out a quick sigh, giving a deep shrug as you did so. Your eyes remained trained on the ground as you two walked. "I mean, we talked the other week about my family and it just felt so different. Like, I've told recent friends or girlfriends my history and everything, and they listen and they 'get it', but it's not the same. That conversation with you – via text, no less – had more depth and weight than any comparable conversation with my exes or current friends. You were there. You know it – and me, I guess - inside and out. And even if I retell things, it's just not the same."

Jessie nodded, watching you. It did feel like yesterday when she was sitting next to you on your bed, sobs wracking your body after one confrontation too many with your family. Normally, Jessie was so analytical and tentative about her physical contact with you, but the second you started crying she put her arms around you without hesitation and you leaned in, resting your head on your shoulder as she held you. That was the first time, but it wasn't the last.

Looking back on it, maybe your girlfriends did have good reason to dislike her.

"I know what you mean," she told you. "It's different. I mean, it's the same with you in a lot of ways. You were there for me during some critical points – big decisions in my life and you understood who I was and who I wanted to be."

You smiled at her fondly. You looked ready to say something and Jessie waited. A moment passed and you exhaled, saying, "It really meant a lot – having you in my life and the support you gave me back then. I hope you know that."

"I know," Jessie accepted with a smile of her own. "And likewise."

Her mind drifted. She should probably just leave things be, but not speaking her mind is what held her back all those years before. She needed to share her thoughts and feelings if things were going to be different this time. She took a breath.

"You know, I was really shocked when we saw each other here." She paused briefly. "I don't know. We hadn't talked in so long. I think I'd relegated myself to assuming we'd never see each other or ever talk again. Despite how important we were to one another at some point."

Her statement seemed to give you pause, the mild surprise evident on your face. You eventually glanced down at the street as you two continued to walk.

"Yeah. That's true, I guess," you conceded, your voice soft.

Jessie studied you, unsatisfied with the response you gave. She pushed.

"I knew we wouldn't be able to stay as close as we were. That was inevitable with us living so far away from one another, but I don't think I expected contact to fall apart as quickly as it did." You didn't reply right away and she went on with an ironic laugh. "We went from talking all day every day, to a few times a week with a video call scattered in there, to the odd message every couple of weeks, then just texts on birthdays and at Christmas, to nothing at all."

She wasn't sure what she was anticipating, but she didn't expect you to turn to her with a perplexed frown.

"Yeah. It did taper off pretty quickly."

Despite the time that'd passed, Jessie still knew when you were telling half-truths. She gave a bit of an empty chuckle. "What else are you thinking?"

You returned her laugh with a mild look. "I don’t know. I'm just kind of confused, I suppose." Jessie frowned.

"About what?" She questioned. Faint alarm bells went off in her head when you stopped walking. She stilled her movements as well and you turned to one another on the sidewalk.

You took a moment to gather your thoughts. You spoke with a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.

"I know it was me who stopped replying right away to messages – I don't deny that – but you weren't exactly giving me a lot to work with." You took a breath, dropping your shoulders before you spoke further. "Honestly? It was kind of feeling one-sided. Yeah, you replied, but a lot of your replies were brief and noncommittal. And when I asked if everything was okay you just told me you were busy. Which," you let out a slightly rueful laugh, "is absolutely fair. You were building this brand new, big life. Which is exactly what you were supposed to do. I don't begrudge you at all. I don’t know." You shrugged and averted your gaze momentarily. "I guess things just started to feel off."

Jessie exhaled quietly as she processed your reply. What you were saying wasn't false. It had been so long it was easy for Jessie to just recall the end result – that you'd stopped replying altogether. That you'd given up on her; on the connection you'd both built for years.

Standing here now though, if she was honest with herself, it was true that Jessie grew distant in her messages - purposefully so - knowing it would drive you away. What was she supposed to do? You two were never going to be together. And being friends was so incredibly hard sometimes because it was never just friendship for her. There was always this bittersweet feeling to everything and now that you were on completely different paths, there was an inevitable conclusion. Yet, she struggled to cut herself off cold. So instead, she took the coward's way out.

Jessie scratched the back of her head. "I was busy," she repeated. She contemplated doubling down, but thought better of it. "And I guess I was finding it hard. We were building two very different lives."

There was so much more she wanted to say, but she couldn't. What would be the point? Her chest panged when you gave her a sad smile.

"I know," you accepted with a sadness in your eyes. "And I really wanted that for you. I just - it was hard to not feel like a nuisance. Like some obligation. So I just stopped writing."

Jessie's frown deepened. She knew all those years ago that she had to be hurting you, but she could lie to herself about it and focus selfishly on herself. Seeing you talk about it in front of her wasn't something she'd anticipated.

"I didn't mean for that," Jessie said. "And I never stopped caring about you," she compromised.

"Yeah. I never stopped caring about you, either," you reciprocated in a subdued manner. Despite her role in everything, Jessie was still harbouring hurt from all those years prior and she felt compelled to push on. Sure, she'd pushed you away, but you'd let her. She erased you from her life little by little, day by day and you allowed it.

"Funny how quickly things change sometimes," Jessie went on. She didn't mean to scoff, but she did. "You didn't even tell me when you and [y/ex] broke up. You didn't even tell me you were having problems."

In years past, Jessie was your sounding board for all your girl troubles. She remembered it well – it was painful. Having to hear you either swoon or – more often – complain about your girlfriends. Hearing how they disappointed or frustrated you when Jessie knew she could love you better. Just thinking back to it stoked a fire in Jessie's chest again. While she had genuinely loved you and cared about your well-being, she'd vowed to never get stuck in that dynamic again.

You cracked a smirk. "It just seemed frivolous to bother you with something like that at that point."

Another pang in Jessie's chest. "Well," she kicked idly at the concrete beneath her, "I would've been there for you if you ever needed me. I hope you knew that."

You sighed and gave a hollow laugh as you pushed your hair back, causing Jessie to get momentarily distracted by the way the rays from the street light hit your face.

"I know," you said quietly before meeting her gaze. "And I hope you knew the same about me. I know you're surrounded by people who love you, but," you shrugged listlessly, "I'd be there for you, too."

Before Jessie could respond you gave her another smirk.

"Besides. Though you never said anything explicit, I know you didn't like her. And by the end I could see why, too. No point wasting any of our limited conversation talking about her."

Jessie bit back a smirk, but knew her eyes betrayed her. "Well, I guess that's poetic. Your girlfriends never liked me and I never liked them."

Despite the mounting tension in your conversation, you laughed and gave her a nod. Jessie didn't return your laugh though. She gave you a solemn look.

"You always deserved better than them. I know some of them were just fine, some of them even good, but they didn't seem earnest enough and they didn't love you enough."

You were taken aback by her sudden proclamation. You opened your mouth to speak, but couldn't find the words.

Jessie never understood how they didn't worship the ground you walked on. She practically did, even if she didn't show it. While those girls showed they cared through superficial acts like a generic bouquet of flowers, Jessie listened. In many ways. It was obvious to Jessie that they didn't really get you – not the way she did. And if they were so in tune with you, then why was it her you came to when things were hard or you were scared or even hopeful. If she'd been your girlfriend, she would've given you everything you needed and more. They clearly didn't.

You eventually gave a soft huff and offered Jessie a quiet smile.

"You've always been very observant. And very thoughtful. I get it now. There's a reason I'm single now. I don't want to settle anymore," you told her.

Jessie was quiet before giving a nod of acceptance.

"I'm glad to hear that."

You both started walking again, though neither of you spoke right away. There was still a heaviness in the air, but it felt different now; hopeful.

"I'm sorry for how things ended," you said as she glanced over at Jessie as you two strolled through the quiet street. "You've always been really important to me – regardless of whether we were in contact or not. I don't want to say that I wish things had been different, because I really don't see the point in regretting anything, but I will say I'm very grateful that we've had this chance to reconnect and rebuild." You paused. "I've really missed you. I didn't realize how much."

"I'm really sorry, too," Jessie said, a smile spreading across her face. "And I agree – we can't change the past, but I also appreciate the chance to be friends again. I've missed you, too."

She swallowed as she contemplated whether to add more. The lull that naturally formed told her to forge ahead.

"And you were never a nuisance or an obligation. I'm really sorry it came across that way."

"Awww, Jessie," you said in a teasing voice, lifting your conversation up again. You paused your steps and Jessie stopped and turned to you in question. "Come on," you beckoned as you waved her over and brought out your phone. "We need a new photo together."

Jessie didn't fight it. Instead, she smiled at you and walked over to stand next to you. You leaned into her and Jessie found her hand naturally gravitated to your waist. It rest there before Jessie could even realize it, but before she could fret, you looked back at her with a smile before facing forward again.

You took the photo and immediately opened up your messages with Jessie to send it to her. Jessie belatedly realized her hand was still on you and she pulled it back, holding her hands behind her.

"There," you announced. "Now we can start rebuilding our collection. Portland memories – not just UCLA anymore."

Jessie laughed and held up her phone, pointing the camera at you.

"No, come on," you whined immediately and she laughed further.

"Hey, this is part of the deal," she countered. You huffed, but eventually smiled for her. "Just remember. This goes both ways. I get new photos of you, too."

She found herself giving you a wink. "I'll allow it."

A/N: Part Four is available here.

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #canwnt x reader #portland thorns

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jar-of-hearts131 · 2 months ago

Text

Hi! This is my first fanfic! I really love the war siblings dynamic, and I for one love a good dose of angst!

This is a tickle fic!

Lee: Athena, Ares

Ler: Ares, Athena

TW FOR MENTION OF A PANIC ATTACK

-------------------

A God's Burden

“You're doing better” she said matter-of-factly. As the goddess of war and older sister, Athena had been tasked with training and handling the very energetic and new god of war, Ares. She hadn't spoken to him much, and didn't know too much about him. What she did know was that he had a short temper, he had a huge sweet tooth, he preferred the sword to all other weapons, and he had a soft spot for small, fluffy animals, especially dogs. It was odd, to her, that a god meant to be of such a violent nature could be so soft and carefree, but then again, she didn't have much experience with children.

Athena picked up the spear Ares had been using and tossed it over to him as he pulled himself back to his feet. “But charging in blindly will not always win you the battle.”

“So?” He snapped, frustrated that he had lost yet again. “I'm not all wise and calculating like you are, Athena! What do I have to use but brute force and my own strength?”

Again, the same old tirade. They would spar, Ares would lose, start yelling, and Athena would have to calm him down somehow. She didn't quite understand why he was getting so emotional over this. Surely he knew that the best course of action would be to stop complaining and try again right?

Athena opened her mouth to say the rehearsed line she always gave in response to one of Ares's tantrums when he cut her off. “And don't give me that bullshit about how I need to keep my emotions in check! Not everyone can shut themselves off like you do!”

And with that Ares threw down his spear and stormed out of the arena. Athena didn't know why, but a small part of her felt almost guilty. She tried to reason that he would come to his senses eventually and continue training, but as the day went on, there was no sign of him. Athena quarreled with herself in her head, and the big sister part of her won. “Alright,” she sighed. “Let's go find him.”

…

Ares let out a huff of frustration as he sat down beneath a sprawling olive tree. Why was she always able to best him so easily? He was the god of war for Zeus's sake! He needed to be stronger, faster, better! How else would he catch up to the golden child of the Olympians? How else would he be able to earn just a tiny bit of his father's favor? It was no secret that Athena was the favored one out of all of Zeus's godly children. Never a negative word or action was cast in her direction by him. No, that was saved for his other children, or mortals who displeased him. Ares had heard many stories of cities and towns that had dared to disrespect the king of the gods, only to be struck down by a myriad of disasters.

He shuddered. He'd never admit it, but Zeus scared him. Zeus had a quick temper, a trait he had passed onto his son. He was incredibly prideful and vain, and no one was bold or stupid enough to try to bring him down a notch. Those who tried, were dealt with, severely.

Ares didn't want that to be him. He wanted to get stronger, so he could protect himself, so Zeus wouldn't be able to find fault with him. After all, how could the son of the master of heavens have any imperfections? He didn't want to end up like his brother Hephaestus, thrown off of the mountain due to his imperfect appearance.

Tears began to slip down his face unnoticed as he stressed over whether he would ever be the perfect son, the god of war as he was born to be. He hated this part of him, that got overly emotional and screamed and cried. Crying was a sign of weakness, and he wasn't weak. From day one, he was expected to keep his emotions, aside from rage and bloodlust, in a bottle, never to be seen by anyone but him. And still, he had these moments where those pesky emotions forced their way out in ways that he couldn't control. How did Athena do it so easily? Why her and not him? As his thoughts continued to spiral, he curled up tighter and tighter, and began to breathe faster and faster.

…

Athena roamed the grounds searching for her little brother, but the kid was pretty good at hiding. As she passed by the orchards, she heard a whimpering sound, almost like a wounded animal that was trying to hide from a predator. Instinctively, she went to investigate.

It was all she could do to not let out a gasp when she saw her brother, the brash, headstrong Ares curled up and hyperventilating on the ground, seemingly unaware of the world around him. Shit, she didn't know how to handle him like this! Does she hug him? Tell him to get a hold of himself? Just leave him be? No, none of that seemed right. She wished Hera was here, she'd know what to do. But Hera wasn't there, so Athena needed to do something, and fast.

Suddenly, she remembered something from her time with Pallas, her deceased best friend. Whenever Athena was upset or angry Pallas would take a heavy cloak, meant for colder weather, and drape it over Athena's shoulders. The extra weight would help her calm down and bring her back to reality. Maybe that would work with her brother.

Athena took off the cape she always wore. It wasn't as heavy as Pallas’s cloak, but it would do. She gently wrapped it around Ares's frame, and sat down beside him.

“It's okay, you're okay, I'm here” Athena enveloped him in a hug and tried her best to comfort him. After a while, she heard his broken sobs quiet and his breathing even out. She let go of him and turned him around to face her.

“Ares, you can talk to us. No one is going to hate you for having emotions, and I shouldn't have taught you to force them down. I didn't realize how much it affected you, and for that I am sorry.”

Ares felt a spike of anger at her words. He didn't need any pity. He wasn't some broken child who needed to be coddled and protected. Who was she to insinuate that?!

But then he realized something. Pity wasn't something that Athena did. If she was anything, it was genuine. She didn't believe in sugarcoating or false positives. She wasn't one to sweeten her words to spare hurt feelings. So if she had given words of comfort, he knew she truly meant it.

“I-I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have l-lost my temper again. I just got so angry that I couldn't beat you. How can I be a god of war if I can't fight? How am I supposed to protect others if I can't protect myself? I don't want to be weak!”

There. He said it. As soon as those words left his mouth he froze. On one hand, a tremendous weight lifted off his chest for being able to confide in someone. On the other hand, Athena would never look at him the same way again. He basically admitted to being a weak coward right to her face! He was too scared to look at her. He didn't want to see his sister's face contort into a disgusted sneer-

“Wha-?!” Ares yelped as Athena pulled himself backwards into another tight hug. “What are you doing, let me go!”

“Little brother, I am so proud of you for telling me that. Admitting that you are struggling with something does not make you weak. In fact, it takes a lot of strength and bravery to look at something and realize that you can't always do it alone. I promise you, I will never, ever be angry with you for wanting help or guidance. And I will never be mad at you for feeling the need to express your emotions however you see fit. Just, if you feel the need to throw things around, maybe don't do that in Hephaestus's forge. We don't want a repeat of last time.”

They both laughed at remembering Hephaestus's eyes nearly bug out of his head after returning to a forge that had been destroyed by a very angry 13 year old Ares. It had taken almost two weeks to get everything back in working order. Since then, the arena had a special “Rage Room” for when Ares or someone else needed to let off a little steam.

“Are you feeling better, Ares?” Athena asked.

“Not really.” He answered. He wasn't crying anymore, but there was still a tight knot in his chest.

“Well we can't have that now can we?”

“What do you mehEAN?!” He let out a sharp squeal when Athena's hand suddenly started scribbling into his belly.

“I almost forgot how ticklish you are” Ares's eyes were screwed shut, but he could hear the smirk in her voice.

“Why are you laughing so much? We've only just started, and this isn't even your worst spot.” Athena switched to clawing at his sides, causing him to emit shrill giggles.

“Yohur’e the smahahrt one, figuhure it out!” Now that he was laughing, he was being quite sassy.

“Hey! Don't give me attitude!” Athena scolded, but there was no real bite to her voice.

Her hands spidered up to his ribs, causing his arms to clamp down before those evil hands could get any higher. “Ares give me my hands back.” Athena wiggled her fingers as if trying to pull free, but they both knew she could easily get her hands out if she wanted to.

“You cahan get thehehem yohoursehelf!” Ares laughed. “No, I can’t. They're clearly stuck. Come on, I thought you were smarter than this.”

“You ahare being ridiculohous!” He yelped.

“No, I'm not. Now give me my hands.” Athena said sternly. Trying (and failing) to fight down his giggles, Ares slowly pulled his arms up, only for Athena to dig ruthlessly into his highest ribs, resulting in his arms crashing back down once again.

“AthHEnA! Whyhy!” Ares was pretty sure he was dying at this point. Also, if he didn't know better, he'd say his sister was only doing this to punish him for running off earlier. But he did know better. And he knew that his sister just wanted to see him happy. So he didn't fight back too much. After all, he didn't hate it.

Athena started poking around at Ares's neck, as if pushing buttons. Each poke caused him to scrunch up and squeak. “Dohohon't!” Athena would be lying if she said that wasn't the cutest thing she's ever seen. “Stahahap! Whahat are you dohoing?!”

“Don't stop? Wasn’t even planning on it. And to answer your question, I was pressing giggle buttons! Like this one right here!” Athena wiggled a finger into Ares's bellybutton, making him shriek and burst into more happy giggles.

Now, Ares's giggles were adorable, but Athena wanted to kick it up a notch, so she went to grab one of his arms and pull it up to get at his armpits, his death spot, only to be surprised by a sudden shriek, followed by a snort.

Athena couldn't help but cackle at Ares's mortified expression. “What the hell was that?!” She asked through her laughter.

Looking at him again, she realized that har nails had grazed his bicep. She experimentally skitters her nails across the skin, drawing out more high-pitched shrieks and another snort.

Now, Athena isn't usually one to get all mushy. But even she couldn't help but coo over her little brother's reactions.

“Aww, with the way you're acting, your sacred animal should be the pig!” “SHUHUHUT UHUHP!”

Athena dramatically gasped.”Shut up? I so very kindly try to cheer you up and you tell me to shut up? Oh you're in for it now!”

And with that she held him close, and blew a raspberry on his neck.

Ares screamed.

“NAHAHAHAHA! STAHAHAHP!”

“Are you going to apologize for being rude?” Athena asked before blowing another raspberry and scribbling into his stomach again.

“YEHEHES NOW PLEHEASE STOHOHOHP!” Ares wailed.

Athena smiled, and skittered her nails into his armpits while blowing one last raspberry, drawing out another scream and more belly laughs.

She stopped after another minute, and started rubbing away the ghost tickles. Ares slumped back against her, face red and streaked with tears, still giggling.

“Tired buddy?” Athena asked with a smile.

“Mhmn” was all she got in response. Ares turned and wrapped his arms around her. They remained in a hug for a few minutes until Athena moved to get up, only to realize her lovable dork of a brother had fallen asleep on her.

Smiling, she picked him up and carried him to her palace. He needed the rest anyway.

…

(After the events of the Vengeance Saga. Athena has mostly recovered, but has drastically weakened due to the extended bedrest. Apollo recommended that she take walks every day until a little more strength returns, and then she can do a bit more exercise and spar a little.)

The weather was nice today. Not that it was normally bad, it just seemed exceptionally nice today. Zeus must be in a good mood.

Most of the gods were taking the time to enjoy the weather and take a break from their duties (hey, even gods need a break sometimes). But one goddess in particular didn't seem so happy.

Athena was upset. She didn't know why exactly. She hadn't no reason to be sad. She was (almost) fully healed, Odysseus was home, and family drama was at an all-time low. Yet, she still felt uneasy.

Normally she would go spar with Ares or train one of her mortal champions when she felt off, but Apollo stubbornly refused to let her. Something about her overworking herself. She looked around. She saw grass, trees, Hermes in the distance messing with Poseidon again. But no Apollo. “Surely a few hours couldn't hurt” she thought.

Spoiler: a few hours could most definitely hurt.

She had only just finished warming up when she felt a sharp sting, and then the sickening feeling of something flowing down her back. Reaching behind her, her hand came back coated in gold. Athena took two steps towards the arena exit, and then promptly passed out.

She awoke several hours later in the infirmary. Apollo saw she woke up and sighed. “What did I tell you about training? I thought you would have learned after last time!”

Athena flopped onto her back with a huff, wincing when the now open wound was pressed on. She turned back onto her side and responded “I was only going to be there for a little while. I didn't expect it to open back up.”

Apollo sat down next to her and put a hand on her shoulder. “Athena, I know you want to get back out there, and do whatever it is you do. Train another mortal champion, inspire another tactician, or even just spend time with Odysseus again. Don't give me that look, I know you've been sneaking down to the mortal plane. But you seriously need to rest. Immortal as you are, your body needs time to recover.”

Athena shook her head. “I’m fine, Apollo. You don't need to keep me here. I shouldn't just be sitting here uselessly.”

Apollo took one look at his sister's tear-filled eyes and felt his resolve crumble. He took a breath before continuing. “Athena. My dear sister. I love you, but you are the biggest hypocrite I have ever known.”

Athena looked up at him shocked. “Apollo, what the hell?! I am not a hypocrite!”

Apollo just gave her The Look™️. “Really? Just last month you were the one to manhandle Dionysus in here after he decided to push Ares’s buttons one too many times. And the time before that, when Hermes decided to taunt Poseidon by stealing and hiding his trident. If you and Zeus hadn't intervened I don't think even I could have fixed him up.”

Athena’s shiver at the mention of her father’s name did not go unnoticed. Apollo’s tone and expression softened. “Please Athena. I know you always like to be the one to take care of us, but now let me take care of you.”

Athena weighed the pros and cons. On one hand, she really just wanted to get out of bed and pretend this all had never happened. But on the other hand, she knew that it was the most rational and logical thing to stay put and let herself heal. So why was she so against it?

Surely she could handle herself. Apollo didn't need to waste his time on her, not after all that he’s already done. She didn't want to burden him any longer.

Apollo recognized Athena’s internal debate and tapped her forehead to bring her back to the present. “Hey. I know what you're thinking. You are not a burden. I am literally the god of healing. This is my job. And more importantly, you're my sister, and I want you to be happy and healthy. And if that means you have to stay in the infirmary for now, then so be it. I really do care about you, and so do the others. We don't want to see you hurt yourself because you're too proud to admit that you need help. So stop being so stubborn and let me help you.”

It was like he read her mind. Somehow, her (literal) ray-of-sunshine brother knew exactly what she needed to hear at that moment. Athena felt the anxiety and uneasiness in her chest die down, and smiled. “Thank you, brother.”

Apollo smiled back at her. “Of course, sister. Now, you look exhausted. Try to get some sleep, I'll come back to check on you in a few hours. And if you need anything, Iaso and Panacea should be around.”

With that, Apollo left, and Athena closed her eyes.

Hours later, she awoke to a commotion on the other side of the door.

“I’m afraid I can't let you in, Lord Apollo said she needs to rest.”

“I don't care what that sunshiney dolt said! I want to see my sister!”

The door swung open to reveal a ticked-off Ares and a frustrated Iaso. She turned on her heel and stormed off, presumably to get Apollo.

Ares sauntered in and plopped down with a grin in the chair at Athena’s bedside. “So what’s this I heard about you not taking medical advice seriously?”

“Really Ares? You did the same thing last week. If Apollo hadn't gotten Hera to chew you out then you never would have listened. Now, I was already scolded once, so I don't want to hear it.” She turned to her other side, a scowl on her face. She clearly was not in the mood to deal with her currently very smug brother.

“Oh come on Thena, lighten up! I wasn't gonna scold you. Unlike one of our siblings, I don't have a stick up my ass all the time.”

Athena let out a bark of laughter. It was very true that Apollo could sometimes rival her in terms of stubbornness. She turned back to face Ares. At least she could lie on her back now without any pain. “So what are you doing here? You rarely seek me out these days, and when you do, it's either to argue or to spar. I am in no shape to do either right now, so why did you come to see me?”

Ares looked almost hurt. “Can I not come visit my sister just to spend time with her?” His voice dropped to almost a whisper, as if afraid to speak. “I just wanted to make sure you were ok. When I heard you were in the infirmary again, I got scared. Especially after…” His voice trailed off.

Ares didn't have to finish his sentence for Athena to know what he was talking about. It's been months, but the events of that day still burn fresh in their minds. Memories of the arena, of lighting, of white-hot, searing pain, then nothing.

For Ares, memories of fear that was almost paralyzing. That left him unable to do anything but ask “Is she dead?” He's lost count of how many times he cursed his own name or cried himself to sleep since that day, wishing he had these strength to help her, to run over there, hell, he'd fight Zeus if it meant his sister didn't have to suffer the way she did. They had their quarrels, but everyone knew that Zeus had gone too far.

But instead he had stood there, staring at the charred body of his sister and mentor, the one who had taught him everything he knew, watching as she was struck down again and again, just to get back up once more. Watching as she reached the dias and desperately grabbed their father's hand, and begged. His proud, stoic sister, begging on her knees. And then he watched as the last of her strength disappeared, and she collapsed.

He never wanted to see her like that again. He had spend every day in the infirmary with her until she woke up. Every day for almost two months. When she finally opened her eyes, he was there, with Apollo and Aphrodite. He remembered that day clearly. He remembered he had been arguing over her medical treatment, debating over the proper way to dress her wounds. Only to hear Athena's voice softly correct them both. He remembered his eyes filling with tears when he looked over and saw that her eyes were open. He remembered hugging her tightly, then letting go after remembering she was still injured. He had stayed and talked with her for hours afterwards. Well, he talked and she listened, her voice was really raspy and talking was painful. He updated her on everything that had happened while she was gone, about Odysseus being released, about Poseidon, about the slaughtering of the suitors and the family reunion. He was practically vibrating with excitement as he told her about how right she was about the bloodshed, and how sorry he was about ever doubting her mortal (and his son, Telemachus killed his fair share of suitors too). Apollo eventually has to physically remove him so Athena couldn't rest, but he continued to come every day until she could walk again.

Smiling sadly at the memory, his expression darkened. He hated seeing her hurt, and he hated it more when she did it to herself. Yes, he could chew her out about how stupid she was, but that wouldn't do either of them any favors. Instead, he had a better idea.

He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the sound of the door opening, and then Apollo yanking him by the ear.

“OW! LET ME GO YOU POMPOUS BITCH!”

“I TOLD YOU SHE NEEDS TO REST! YOU BOTH ARE TERRIBLE AT LISTENING!”

Athena watched her brothers argue with the expression of the oldest sibling who is absolutely done with this shit, before getting up with a sigh (no pain yay) and knocking their heads together.

“Both of you shut up. Yelling won't solve anything. Apollo, he was just here to check on me. Ares, we talked about calling your siblings bitches. Now, both of you apologize and be done with it.”

The brothers grumbled out half-hearted apologies to each other and rubbed the sore spot on their heads. Apollo sighed and turned to his sister. “Athena, I can see that you are able to stand now, you can leave after I do one more examination. Ares, if you must stay, you can wait outside.”

Ares walked out the door and sat down in the hall, waiting for Apollo to finish. Around 10 minutes later, Athena walked out the door, sporting fresh bandages and after bottles of assorted liquids and pills. Most likely painkillers of some kind, just in case.

“So where are you off to now?” He asked.

“I need to bring these back to my palace, then I'm probably just going to take a walk.” She responded, shifting the bottles in her arms.

Ares took two of them, smirking at Athena's squawk of protest. “Relax, I'm just helping you out. You'd probably drop one if you tried to carry that many by yourself.” Athena scowled, but thanked him for the assistance. Her arms did feel weak, as much as she hated to admit it, she did need the help.

Arriving at Athena's palace, the siblings went to her bedroom to set the bottles down. Athena frowned at the haphazard way her brother had carelessly left them on the nightstand, and took a minute to organize them.

Ares watched in amusement. “Sis, they're just a few bottles, you don't need to arrange them down to the millimeter.”

Athena scoffed. “Brother, you know I cannot just leave them disorganized. Everything must be in its place.”

Ares sighed impatiently. “Well, when you are done, come meet me outside. We're going for a walk. I know if I leave you to your own devices you'll forget. For all your wisdom, you are terrible at self-care.”

Athena bit back the retort she had, not wanting to be drawn back into their earlier squabble. After what seemed like an eternity (if you asked Ares, in reality it was only about five minutes), Athena stepped outside to meet her brother for their walk.

Wandering for a bit, they came across a clearing after passing through a dense wooded area. Athena recognized it as an old practice area, one that she and her siblings would meet at to hone their abilities or play. The grooves in the trees and patches of dirt were remnants of sword swings, wrestling matches, and rouge magic. The branches held memories of stargazing, long chats, and whispered secrets. The leaves hustled with the sound of laughter and screaming. A fond smile crept onto her face. Yes, there were many memories here indeed.

Athena didn't have to look over to know that Ares has a similar expression. Wordlessly, they walked over to an old olive tree. The branches were barren, long past the days of bearing any fruit, but the leaves still provided plenty of shade to rest in. Still in silence, they sat down next to each other.

“It's been a while since we were here. I can hardly remember the last time I sat under this tree.” Ares spoke after a while.

Athena grinned. “I remember it quite well. As I recall, you were having a bit of a tantrum and I had to calm you down.”

Ares bonked his head back against the tree bark. “Don't remind me of that.” He groaned, his cheeks already darkening from a faint blush.

“Aww, why? It worked didn't it?” Athena cooed, a smug grin still adorning her face.

Ares wanted to wipe that grin right off her face. But he didn't want to hurt her. He mulled over his options. Headlock? No, she was too fast. Wrestling match? No, she might get injured again, and then he'd have Apollo on his ass. He thought back again to that one afternoon and a smile began to form. Oh,yes, that would work perfectly.

“Thena, don't think I'm going to forget about you injuring yourself so carelessly. I think it's my turn to teach you a lesson. But since words will not be effective, I have another idea.”

Athena blinked. One second she was next to Ares, and the next he had pulled her in front of him, her back against his chest, and her arms pinned to her sides.

She caught on immediately. “Ares, dohon't you evehen think about ihit!”

“Aww, giggling already, I haven't even started! I thought you were the stoic one!” Ah yes. His sister's greatest weakness. Anticipation.

“Now remind me. Where is your worst spot? Is it your stomach? Or maybe your knees? Or could it be your sides? Or maybe…”

In her flustered state, Athena didn't notice one of Ares's hands sneaking up to her shoulders.

“... right here.” Ares quickly scribbled on her shoulder blades for a second before stopping, causing Athena to let out a giggly shriek. She yanked a hand free and slapped it over her mouth in a feeble attempt to muffle her giggles.

“Oh no, we can't have you muffling those adorable giggles of yours!” Ares teased, using one hand to hold both of hers and his other to dig into her exposed side.

“AHAREHEHES!”

“Yes that is my name! Don’t wear it out!” Ares laughed at his own joke as Athena groaned through her own laughter.

“Thahat is a teherrible joke! Apollo is fuhunnier than you!” Athena, even like this, was still finding the energy to sass him.

“Now that was just rude! I tell great jokes! And if it was so bad, then why are you laughing? Look at yourself, you can't stop!” As he said this, he spidered all over her stomach and sides. Not her worst spot, but still enough to make her jump around like a fish out of water.

Ares decided a change of positions was in order. He couldn't have Athena injured herself thrashing around like this. He gently maneuvered her to lie on her stomach, then straddled her waist and pinned her hands down with his knees.

“Ares what on earth are you doing? Get off!”

“No can do sis! Can't have you hurting yourself wiggling like a worm!”

“I'll hurt you if you don't get off of me!” Anyone else would be scared at this point, but Ares knew Athena well enough to know she didn't hate this as much as she made it seem.

“Aww Thena, it's just us. You don't have to present to hate this. Come on, we both know you secretly love it.”

Athena felt her face flush and for one was at a loss for words. She refused to let him have the satisfaction of admitting that he was right, but if she could see the look on his face, she'd see the smirk of someone who already knew he was right.

“Alright, too much talking, not enough laughing.” Ares said before digging into her ribs.

Athena squeaked before trying to bury her face into her shoulder while also trying to hug her arms as close to her sides as possible. It wasn't working out too well.

Ares looked down at his sister and felt a pang of adoration. They both knew she needed this. And he was all too happy to help. Besides, it was fun knocking her down a peg or two, and he was finally getting his revenge from all those years ago.

He reached a hand up to flutter against her neck and ears and had to hold himself back from audibly cooing at the result. Athena practically melted and her giggles became intermingled with what could only be described as content owl sounds. Gently brushing her hair out of the way exposed her flushed face, her scrunched eyes and nose, and wide, happy smile. It was very rare to see Athena like this, and gods damn it, he was going to savor every second!

“Thena, I almost forgot how cute you are! A smile suits you better than a scowl.” Ares teased again, smiling even wider when he saw her try to hide her face again.

“I'him not cuhute!” Athena tried to protest, but was almost cut off by more of her own giggles when she felt a finger swipe over the shell of her ear.

At this point she had completely stopped fighting, so Ares decided to pull out the big guns. He began quickly and lightly swiping up and down her spine while clawing at her shoulder blades.

Athena screamed.

“WHAHAIT! STAHAHAHP!”

“ Athena, with these dramatics, it's a wonder you don't spend more time with Hermes or Dionysus. You'd fit right in with those two.”

Ares knew she could handle a lot more.

“Now, if I remember correctly, if I do this..”

He pinched at her ribs before spidering all over her back.

“Then these should come out!”

As if on cue, two huge owl wings sprung out from Athena’s shoulders. Ares grinned. He had made Athena lose control of her powers enough to trigger her wings to come out. He had to fight down a wider smile as he lightly combed his hands through the feathers. They were really soft, and tickled his hands a bit.

He watched in amusement as the wings fluffed up and shuddered as he dragged through the feathers again. He looked down at Athena and saw her entire form was tense and shaking with suppressed laughter. Not on his watch.

With absolutely zero warning, he raked through the wings, making sure to dig right into the muscles of the wings for maximum reaction, and was nearly thrown off from how hard Athena bucked.

“NAHAHAHAHA! NOHOHOT THE WIHIHIHNGS! AHARES PLEHEASE!”

Yeah, Athena’s wings were horrifically ticklish. A fact her siblings, especially one particular war god, loved to exploit. Athena had hoped Ares had forgotten about that, but she wasn't that lucky.

Ares regained his balance and lightened his touch a bit. Athena was still squealing and laughing her heart out, but at least she wouldn't scream so loud all of Olympus would hear. He loved embarrassing his siblings, but he wanted her to keep some of her dignity.

Athena was in hell. Every touch on her wings was like sparks firing throughout her body. She couldn't remember the last time she was tickled like this. Well, the way she was feeling, she couldn't remember much of anything. It's been a while since she could laugh freely. Being born out of Zeus's head as an adult had stolen the childhood her siblings could experience and left her without a lot of the memories they had. The closest thing she had to that was her time with Pallas, but that was taken away all too soon. Even in her frenzied state, she felt her mind begin to spiral.

A sudden buzzing sensation on her spine yanked her out of the dark headspace. Ares smiled at her from where he had just blown a raspberry right between her wings. “C'mon, no looking sad! I know you were thinking unhappy thoughts and that is not allowed right now!” Ares's goofy declaration completely wiped any residual sadness Athena felt left over and replaced it with a giddy, fuzzy feeling.

Ares continued to rake through the wings and blow raspberries, occasionally reaching down to scribbled on her sides or ribs, cutting through the harsh laughter with sweet giggles and even the occasional snort. Ares learned that if he squeezed her hips, she would let out a squeal, if he dug into the spaces in her ribs, she would snort, and gently tracing her sides produced absolutely adorable giggles.

He decided to finally leave her wings alone and give her a breather. Athena, after a few minutes of giggling, retracted her wings, before closing her eyes and breathing heavily. Ares reached down and traced her arms, drawing out more giggles.

He got up and off of her before pulling her into a bear hug. Athena relaxed into the hug and they both just sat there for a moment, before Ares whispered “I'm not done with you just yet” before blowing a raspberry on the side of her neck and scribbling frantically all over her torso.

“WhaHaIT NOhohO!” Her laughter was laced with all sorts of sounds. Giggles, snorts, random owl sounds, it was all there. Ares finally decided she had enough and finished off with another raspberry on the other side of her neck.

He just held her as the giggles began to die down. He waited until she had fully relaxed before moving again, this time propping her up against his side with his arm around her shoulders. He was surprised to see her curled up a bit and cuddle into his side.

“Tired sis?” He asked with a smile.

“Mhmm.” She mumbled before yawning. Athena closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep in her brother's arms, a small smile still on her face.

Ares watched her sleep with a small smile that matched her own, but his was tinged with concern. Athena hadn't slept well in ages, not since that day in the arena. He really hoped she would be able to rest, even for just a little bit.

Gods, he missed this. Just messing with his siblings, not a care or responsibility in the world. Not fighting with them, or spending every waking moment treading on eggshells around their father's quick temper. Not dealing with one problem after the next, with no respite. But he shouldn't get to greedy. Sure, it's been eons since he had time like that, but at least he had time like that at all. Athena never had time to just be a kid and explore the world. What kind of brother was he to let that happen? Ares vowed to himself to make sure his sister would get to experience all that she missed out on. He would see to it personally.

But for now, he was a bit tired. As his eyes closed, he felt Athena stir for a moment, and then relax again. He wrapped both arms around her protectively. “I won't let anyone or anything hurt you ever again.” He thought as sleep finally overtook him.

…

“It's nice to see them not fighting for once.”

“I agree Apollo, maybe we should just let them be. Athena rarely gets to sleep, and Ares never looks this peaceful.” Artemis sighed. “I know it's getting late. I'll keep an eye on them from the moon chariot. You don't have to worry about them.

“But-”

“Yes I know you can't help it. But trust me brother. I will take care of them for the night. Just let them rest. And as for you, go get some rest too. I know you haven't really been sleeping since the first time Athena reopened her wound.”

“How did you know?”

“We're twins, Apollo. I know these things about you. You criticized Athena for it, but just like her, you'd kill yourself to help others. I know you want nothing more than to help her. But you need to be able to help yourself first. So take the night. Get some sleep. Take care of yourself for once. I got them.”

“... Alright.”

“Goodnight brother.”

“Artemis!”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

Artemis just smiled, as radiant as a full moon. “Of course, brother.”

Apollo returned to his home, and was able to sleep through the night for the first time in a while. Under the watchful eye of their younger sister, Ares and Athena both slept peacefully until the light of Dawn danced on the horizon.

Ares was the first one to wake, blinking a few times and gathering his bearings. He shifted, but felt a weight on him. He looked down, and smiled in surprise and adoration when he saw Athena, still asleep, holding onto him tightly. He was awake, but he supposed he could stay a little while longer.

Later Athena would remark that it was the best sleep she had in a very long time. She didn't remember Ares carrying her back to her palace, or Aphrodite helping Apollo change her bandages. She didn't remember all of her siblings gather in her room as she continued to sleep, tidying up and making sure everything was nice and tidy, just the way she liked it. She didn't remember Hermes bringing a hand carved wooden owl, a gift from Odysseus, and a card from Telemachus. But she awoke to the changes, and to her siblings all there, with some food. They all had a picnic in her room, and spent some time forgetting about their duties, their responsibilities, their quarrels. And they talked, and laughed. They swapped stories, and shared memories. And none of them mentioned it, but there was something different in the air that day. Something fresh. A new chapter for all of them.

#lee!athena #lee!ares #ler!athena #ler!ares #epic the musical tickle #epic the musical #epic ares #epic athena #war siblings #i love them #they both need hugs and caring time #and therapy #lots of therapy

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