#and even now offers her friendship and support | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wethotcrazy · 2 days ago

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Buona Fortuna

pairing: Mercedes F1 Team! Kimi Antonelli x F1 Academy Driver! Reader

word count: 5500

trying out some new stuff, but chat i fear i cooked a little too hard. also if you like this tell me (i might make more parts to it), and sorry for the sudden change i just wanted it to be all in one part instead of two.

The Mercedes F1 hospitality area was nearly empty at 11 PM, save for two figures huddled at a corner table. Kimi Antonelli, still in his team polo despite the late hour, sat across from Y/N, who was surrounded by engineering textbooks and a laptop displaying race telemetry data.

"You know," Kimi said, sliding a fresh cup of coffee toward her, "most people would think I'm crazy for spending my free evening watching someone study thermodynamics."

Y/N looked up from her calculations, offering a tired but genuine smile. "Most people would think I'm crazy for studying thermodynamics between F1 Academy practice sessions."

"That's why you're you," he replied with a soft smile, a familiar warmth of admiration in his voice.

Their friendship had always been like this – comfortable silences, shared understanding, and mutual support that went beyond their racing careers. It started back in their Prema days when they were both trying to navigate the delicate balance between racing and high school.

While Kimi had treated academics as a necessary obligation, Y/N approached it with the same passion she showed on track. He remembered watching her in awe as she'd switch seamlessly between analyzing racing lines and solving calculus problems during their breaks.

"How do you not get burned out?" he'd asked her once during their Prema days.

"Because I love both," she'd answered simply. "The racing helps me understand the physics, and the physics helps me understand the racing. They're not separate things in my mind."

That response had stuck with him, reshaping his own approach to racing. While he might not share her enthusiasm for academic pursuits, her words had taught him that true excellence came from understanding every aspect of what you do.

Now, a couple of years later, he found himself gravitating toward her study sessions whenever their racing schedules aligned. Sometimes he'd ask questions about the engineering concepts she was learning, genuinely curious about how they applied to their cars. Other times, like tonight, he'd simply keep her company, finding inspiration in her unwavering focus.

"Remember when you posted that congratulations message when we graduated?" Y/N asked suddenly, looking up from her textbook.

Kimi grinned. "How could I forget? 'Proudest teammate award goes to @KimiAntonelli,'" he quoted the replies that had flooded in. "I meant every word of it, you know. Still do."

"You always have been supportive," she laughed, but her eyes showed deep appreciation.

"You know, I joke about you being a nerd all the time, but..." he paused, gathering his thoughts. "Watching you excel in both worlds, it made me realize I wasn't pushing myself hard enough in some areas. When I'm tired after a long day of practice and all I want to do is sleep, I think about you studying after equally long days. It makes me want to be better, to understand more, to push harder."

Y/N set down her pencil, touched by his honesty. "Kimi..."

"I mean it," he continued. "Everyone in F1 asks me about my rapid rise through the ranks, but they don't see what I see. They don't see my friend who's working twice as hard, not just winning races but understanding the very science that makes these cars work."

A comfortable silence fell between them as Y/N returned to her studies and Kimi started reviewing his own race data on his tablet. This had become their routine whenever their race weekends coincided – her studying, him working, occasionally breaking the silence to share thoughts or ask questions.

"Another win for Y/N L/N!" the commentator announced as she crossed the finish line. "The F1 Academy sensation continues to dominate while pursuing her mechanical engineering degree..."

After Y/N won her F1 Academy race, Kimi was the first to reach her in parc fermé. As they hugged in celebration, he whispered, "You always make it look so easy."

She laughed against his shoulder. "Nothing about this is easy."

"That's what makes it impressive," he replied, pulling back to look at her. "And don't worry – I saved you a spot in the hospitality area. You've got that fluid dynamics test to study for, right?"

"You're not sick of being my study buddy yet?"

Kimi's expression softened. "Never. Besides," he added with a playful grin, "how else am I going to learn why my car does what it does? My engineers would be proud of how much engineering I've absorbed just from listening to you study."

That evening, as they settled into their usual spot, Kimi watched Y/N dive straight into her studies despite the exhaustion of race day. Her dedication wasn't just about achieving good grades or winning races – it was about pursuing excellence in everything she did. And while he might joke about her being his inspiration, the truth was far deeper than any joke could convey.

Because in Y/N, Kimi saw what true passion looked like. It wasn't just about being fast on track or smart in class – it was about the relentless pursuit of understanding, the dedication to growth, and the courage to chase multiple dreams at once. Her drive pushed him to be better, to learn more, to dig deeper into his own craft.

"Hey," he said suddenly, making her look up from her books. "I know I tease a lot, but you really are an inspiration. Not just to me, I know so many others out there that really look up to you."

Y/N's face softened into a smile. "And you're the best study buddy a racing driver could ask for."

"Even though I still don't understand half of what you're studying?"

"Especially because of that," she laughed. "Your confused face keeps me entertained during the boring parts."

As they settled back into their comfortable routine – Y/N with her studies, Kimi with his race notes – he couldn't help but smile. Some might find it strange that a Formula 1 driver chose to spend his free time watching his friend study engineering, but to Kimi, these quiet moments were as valuable as any time spent on track.

Because it was in these moments that he was reminded of what real dedication looked like, what true passion meant, and how the pursuit of excellence in one area could inspire growth in another. Y/N might joke about him being her study buddy, but in truth, she was teaching him something far more valuable than engineering principles – she was showing him what it meant to never stop pushing, learning, and growing.

And that, more than any podium or pole position, was why his admiration for her only grew stronger with each passing day.

The Mercedes garage buzzed with pre-qualifying preparations, but Kimi's eyes were fixed on his phone screen, watching Y/N's F1 Academy race. He was supposed to be reviewing track data, but he couldn't help himself – her racing style had always captivated him.

"Antonelli!" Ollie Bearman's voice cut through his concentration as his friend poked his head into the Mercedes garage, Haas race suit tied around his waist. "Let me guess – watching Y/N's race?"

Kimi didn't even bother hiding his phone. "She's in P2, fighting for the lead."

"When are you going to admit you're in love with her?" Ollie teased, settling beside him to watch.

"I'm not—" Kimi started to protest, but his words were cut short as Y/N executed a perfect overtake into Turn 1. His involuntary smile said more than any denial could.

"Sure, sure," Ollie laughed. "You've only been like this since our Prema days. 'Y/N's so dedicated,'" he mimicked. "'She's so inspiring. Did you know she got another perfect score?'"

Kimi felt his cheeks warm. "She's my friend."

"A friend you can't take your eyes off of," Ollie pointed out. "A friend whose races you watch while you should be prepping for quali. A friend who—"

"She's through! She's won!" Kimi interrupted, jumping slightly in his seat as Y/N crossed the finish line. Without thinking, he immediately opened his messages.

Kimi: Incredible drive! That move into T1 was pure class. Good luck with studying later - FaceTime after quali? Need to hear all about that overtake 👊

Her reply came quickly:

Y/N: Thanks Kimi! 🏆 Those racing lines finally making sense 😂 Absolutely yes to FaceTime - I'll be watching your quali! Show them how it's done ❤️

The heart emoji made his own heart skip a beat, though he tried to ignore it. His phone buzzed again:

Ollie: I saw that smile when she texted back. You're not fooling anyone 😏

Kimi rolled his eyes, but couldn't completely suppress his grin. His race engineer called him for the final quali briefing, and he forced himself to focus on the task at hand. Yet as he slipped into his race suit, he found himself thinking about how Y/N would be watching.

The qualifying session was intense, but knowing Y/N was watching somehow made him push even harder. As he crossed the line to secure P3 in Q3, he could almost hear her cheering.

The moment he parked in parc fermé, he was pulling out his phone, FaceTiming Y/N while walking to his media obligations.

Her face appeared on screen, beaming with pride. "P3! Kimi, that last sector was incredible!"

"Not as incredible as your overtake earlier," he replied, unable to stop smiling. She was sitting at her desk, engineering textbooks already spread out around her, hair still damp from her own podium celebration.

"Are you seriously doing this interview while FaceTiming?" she laughed as he positioned himself for the post-quali interviews.

"You're more important," he said without thinking, then quickly added, "Besides, you can help me with the technical questions about car balance."

A Sky Sports reporter approached, amused to find him on FaceTime. "Kimi, fantastic qualifying! Who are you talking to?"

"Y/N L/N," he answered proudly, turning his phone to show her. "She just won her F1 Academy race today."

"Kimi!" Y/N protested, embarrassed by the attention, but he could see her trying not to smile.

The reporter, well aware of their friendship, played along. "Any advice for him, Y/N?"

"Remember what I taught you about apex speeds," she teased. "It's just like solving differential equations – all about finding the optimal solution."

Kimi laughed, his expression softening in a way that made Ollie, watching from nearby, shaking his head knowingly. "Always the engineer, even on race day."

As he moved through his media obligations, he kept Y/N on the call, their easy banter and shared joy making the tedious process enjoyable. She occasionally chimed in with technical insights that actually impressed the journalists, making Kimi's chest swell with pride.

"You should be studying," he finally said, once he was heading back to the team motorhome.

"I am studying," she protested, holding up her thermodynamics textbook. "I'm just also watching my favorite Mercedes driver crush it in quali."

"I'm the only Mercedes driver you know personally," he pointed out.

"Still my favorite," she winked, and Kimi felt that familiar warmth spread through his chest.

Maybe Ollie was right. Maybe these feelings went beyond admiration and friendship. Maybe the way his day felt brighter when she smiled, the way he looked forward to their study sessions, the way he felt proud of her achievements as if they were his own – maybe it all meant something more.

But for now, he was content to walk through the paddock, phone in hand, listening to Y/N explain her winning overtake while flipping through engineering notes. In that moment, with hundreds of miles between them but their connection as strong as ever, Kimi realized that some feelings didn't need to be admitted out loud to be real.

"Hey," Y/N's voice softened. "You went quiet. What are you thinking about?"

Kimi smiled, watching her juggle her textbook while trying to maintain eye contact through the camera. "Just thinking about how lucky I am to have you in my corner, even when we're racing so far apart."

Her expression melted into something tender that made his heart race faster than any qualifying lap. "Always, Kimi. We're a team, remember? Even when we're not teammates anymore."

And if Ollie happened to catch him later that night, still on FaceTime with Y/N as she studied and he reviewed race data, both of them fighting sleep just to stay connected a little longer – well, maybe his friend wasn't completely wrong about those feelings after all.

The F1 social media landscape exploded one Tuesday morning when Prema Racing announced their 2025 Formula 2 lineup. Among the names was Y/N L/N, making history as she stepped up from F1 Academy after a dominant season.

Within minutes, Kimi's notification feed was flooded as fans tagged him in the announcement. He didn't hesitate to share his excitement:

@KimiAntonelli: From studying engineering between races to fighting for the F2 championship - this is what dedication looks like! So proud of you @YN_LN! Time to show F2 what you're made of! 🏎️📚

The tweet quickly went viral, but it wasn't just the announcement that caught fans' attention. Within hours, racing fan accounts began sharing compilation videos:

"KIMI AND Y/N: FROM PREMA TO F1/F2 🥺❤️ (a thread)"

The first video showed them as young teenagers at Prema, Kimi helping Y/N carry her textbooks to the engineering room while she explained race strategy concepts. Another clip featured their podium celebrations, where they'd always find each other first for a congratulatory hug.

@F1Moments: "The way Kimi BEAMS when talking about Y/N's achievements? We're not okay 😭❤️"

The clip showed various interviews where Kimi praised Y/N:

"She's not just fast on track, she understands these cars like an engineer..."

"While we're all focused on racing, she's getting perfect grades in mechanical engineering..."

"Y/N shows that with enough passion, you can excel at anything..."

@MotorsportEdits had created a masterpiece: a split-screen montage of their parallel journeys. On one side, Kimi's rise through the ranks to Mercedes F1; on the other, Y/N dominating F1 Academy while pursuing her degree. The video ended with their recent FaceTime sessions during Kimi’s post-quali interview, Kimi turning his phone to face the Sky Sports camera.

#KimiAndYN started trending on racing Twitter.

@RacingNews: "Remember when Kimi brought his phone to post-quali interviews just to stay on FaceTime with Y/N? 🥺"

@F1Academy: "From study buddies to racing's power duo! Congratulations to our champion @YN_LN on her promotion to F2!"

Quote tweeted by @MercedesAMGF1: "Our boy @KimiAntonelli's biggest cheerleader is moving up to F2! 🙌 #KimiAndYN"

The social media storm reached new heights when an old video surfaced from their Prema days:

"Can someone please explain the physics behind this overtake?" Kimi asked in the clip, while Y/N drew diagrams and equations on a whiteboard, both still in their race suits.

"Every time I explain physics, you somehow turn it into a racing question," Y/N laughed in the video.

"Because you make it make sense!" young Kimi protested.

@PremaRacing decided to join the fun, sharing a collection of photos: "Buona fortuna e buon viaggio! #KimiAndYN"

The photos showed their journey: studying together between practice sessions, celebrating podiums, Kimi and Y/N's high school graduation, Y/N watching Kimi's first F1 test from the pitwall while highlighting her engineering notes.

Ollie couldn't resist commenting:

@OllieBearman: "If I had a euro for every time @KimiAntonelli talked about @YN_LN during our Prema days, I'd be richer than Lewis Hamilton 😂"

Y/N finally responded to the chaos with a photo of her and Kimi from their Prema days, both asleep in the engineering room, textbooks and data sheets scattered around them:

@YN_LN: "Some things never change ❤️ Thanks for always believing in me @KimiAntonelli! 📚🏎️"

Kimi's heart skipped when he saw her post. He was in the Mercedes simulator when his phone exploded with notifications, but he immediately took a break to respond:

@KimiAntonelli: "From helping me understand physics to making history in motorsport. Proud doesn't even begin to cover it. Can't wait to share the paddock with you again ❤️"

Later that evening, during their regular FaceTime call, Y/N couldn't stop laughing about the social media storm.

"Have you seen the edits? They found clips I didn't even know existed!"

Kimi grinned, watching her sort through her F2 contract papers while simultaneously organizing her study materials. "My favorite is the compilation of every time I've talked about you in interviews. Apparently, I'm not subtle."

"When have you ever been?" she teased. "Remember when you brought me up during your first F1 press conference?"

"Because they asked about inspiration! And you're..." he paused, his expression softening, "you're the most inspiring person I know."

Y/N's cheeks turned pink. "Keep saying things like that and these fans might get ideas."

"Let them," Kimi said softly, watching her juggle her racing dreams and academic pursuits with the same grace she'd always had. "They're not entirely wrong."

The hashtag #KimiAndYN continued trending well into the night, with fans sharing more memories, creating new edits, and celebrating their journey. But for Kimi and Y/N, it was just another evening of FaceTime study sessions and race discussions, their bond stronger than any trending topic could capture.

@F1Community: "Find someone who looks at you the way Kimi looks at Y/N when she's explaining engineering concepts 😍 #KimiAndYN"

Attached was a recent photo from the paddock: Kimi leaning over Y/N's laptop, completely absorbed as she explained some complex engineering principle, his expression a perfect blend of admiration, affection, and awe.

Some things really never did change.

The Italian summer sun painted long shadows across the Antonelli family's garden as Kimi watched Y/N from the kitchen window. She was curled up in her favorite spot on the outdoor sofa, engineering textbook balanced on her knees, hair gathered in a claw clip. Even on break, some things never changed.

Last summer had been at her family's house – he smiled remembering how her mom had fussed over both of them, making sure they took actual breaks from racing and studying. This year, it was his family's turn to host, and his mother was equally determined to fatten them both up with endless servings of homemade pasta.

"She's still studying?" his mother asked in Italian, appearing beside him with fresh bread for dinner.

"Always," Kimi replied fondly. "But watch this."

He grabbed two glasses of fresh lemonade and headed out to the garden. The moment he sat beside her, Y/N automatically shifted, making space while never taking her eyes off her thermodynamics equations. It was a practiced movement, born from countless study sessions across years of friendship.

"Mum's making that pasta you love," he said, setting her lemonade within reach.

"The one with the pistachio pesto?" Y/N looked up, eyes brightening.

"Of course. She says you're too skinny from all this studying."

Y/N laughed, finally closing her book. "Between your mom and mine, we're never going to go hungry during these summer breaks."

It had become their tradition, these shared summers. Between the chaos of the racing season and now Y/N's university schedule, these precious weeks were their chance to just... be. No pressure, no cameras, no podiums to chase – just them, family, and the Italian summer stretching endlessly ahead.

"Remember last summer when your dad tried to teach me proper Italian, Tuscan?" Kimi asked, settling deeper into the sofa.

"And you kept mixing up your words?" Y/N grinned. "And the look on his face…"

"Hey, I've improved! Besides, you're one to talk – you still use engineering terms in Italian."

"That's different! Those are technical terms!"

Their laughter mingled with the sound of cicadas and the distant clatter of dishes from the kitchen. Y/N's textbook lay forgotten as she tucked her feet under herself, turning to face him fully.

"I love this," she said softly. "How even with everything changing – you in F1, me heading to F2, all the craziness – we still have this."

Kimi's heart warmed at her words. He knew what she meant. These moments were precious: the quiet afternoons studying, the family dinners where their parents swapped embarrassing stories about their karting days, the late-night gelato runs in his dad's old Fiat.

"You know," he said, watching the sunset paint her face in golden hues, "I was thinking about our first summer together, back in Prema. Remember how you made me help you study for physics?"

"You mean how you used every physics problem as an excuse to analyze race strategy?" she teased.

"It worked, didn't it? I understood downforce better after your explanations."

Y/N smiled, reaching for her lemonade. "And now look at us. You're living our F1 dream early, and I'm..."

"Being absolutely incredible," he finished firmly. "Racing, engineering degree, and still finding time to spend summers with me and my crazy family."

"Your family is my family too, you know that. Plus," she added with a mischievous grin, "your mum's cooking alone is worth the trip."

As if on cue, his mother's voice called from the kitchen: "Bambini! Dinner!"

They shared a look – they were hardly children anymore, but to their families, they'd always be those two kids from Prema, dreaming big dreams between study sessions.

"Five more minutes!" Kimi called back, not ready to break this moment.

Y/N leaned her head against his shoulder, a gesture so natural it made his heart ache with familiarity. "Your mom's going to come get us out here if we're late."

"Worth it," he murmured, watching the last rays of sunlight fade. "Besides, you need a break from studying."

"Says the one who spent three hours analyzing race data this morning."

"That's different!"

"How?"

"Because..." he paused, smiling. "Okay, maybe we're both workaholics."

"Maybe that's why this works," Y/N said softly. "We understand each other's drive."

The garden was growing darker, fairy lights automatically twinkling to life along the pergola. From the kitchen came the warm sounds of family life – his mother singing along to the radio, his father setting the table, the rich aroma of dinner wafting through the air.

"Ragazzi!" his mother called again, more insistent this time.

Y/N laughed, standing and offering him her hand. "Come on, before we get in trouble."

Kimi took her hand, but didn't immediately get up, just holding it for a moment. "Thanks for choosing to spend summer here again."

"Always," she squeezed his hand. "Where else would I want to be?"

As they walked toward the house, Y/N's textbook tucked under one arm and their empty glasses in hand, Kimi felt that familiar surge of gratitude. For all their success on track, for all their dreams coming true, it was these moments he treasured most – the quiet evenings, the shared laughter, the simple joy of having her here, making his family home feel even more like home.

"Race you to the table?" Y/N challenged, eyes sparkling.

"You're on, F2 driver," he grinned, both of them breaking into a run like they were kids again.

Some things changed – their racing categories, their achievements, their growing dreams. But this – their summers together, their understanding, their connection – this remained constant, as reliable as the Italian sun and as sweet as his mother's lemonade.

And as they collapsed into their seats at the dinner table, breathless with laughter while his parents fondly shook their heads, Kimi couldn't help but think that of all their victories, all their podiums and poles, this might be his favorite kind of winning.

"And crossing the line to take pole position in, Y/N L/N with a stunning lap!"

Kimi's celebration in the Mercedes garage was immediate and enthusiastic enough to draw knowing looks from his entire team. He was supposed to be preparing for his own qualifying session, but his eyes had been glued to the timing screens.

His phone was already in his hand: Kimi: POLE POSITION!! That sector 2 was absolutely insane! Call later? 🏆✨

Her reply came seconds later: Y/N: Learned from the best 😉 Good luck in quali! I'll be watching between engineering lectures ❤️

"Antonelli!" George Russell called out, grinning as he passed by. "Tell your girlfriend congratulations on pole!"

"She's not my—" Kimi started, but George was already walking away, laughing.

@GeorgeRussell63: Caught our rookie watching F2 quali instead of prep 👀 Wonder why? 😏 @KimiAntonelli @YN_LN #Busted

The tweet immediately went viral, with fans cooing over Kimi's obvious pride in Y/N's achievement. The F1 paddock's collective teasing had become relentless since summer break ended.

Later that evening, after both their sessions were done, Kimi settled into his hotel room for their nightly FaceTime call. Y/N appeared on screen, trophy visible in the background, textbooks already spread around her.

"There's my pole-sitter," he beamed.

"There's my Q3 hero," she countered. "P4! Kimi, that was incredible!"

"Thanks to your tip about the kerbs in turn 9—"

A notification interrupted them: @LandoNorris: @KimiAntonelli mate your face literally lights up every time you talk about @YN_LN 😭 Remember when you made us all watch her F1 Academy race during the drivers' briefing?

Y/N burst out laughing. "You did what?"

Kimi's cheeks reddened. "It was an important race! And they all wanted to watch anyway..."

Another notification: @OscarPiastri: Can confirm. He gives us daily updates about both her racing AND her engineering degree 😂 #Whipped

"The whole grid is against me," Kimi groaned, but he was smiling.

"At least Ollie has backup now," Y/N teased, adjusting her laptop so she could better see him while highlighting her thermodynamics notes.

"Speaking of Ollie—" Kimi started, but was cut off by yet another notification.

@OllieBearman: Throwback to Prema days when these two would "study" together but really just stare at each other for hours 👀 #IveBeenSayingItForYears Attached was a photo of teenage Kimi and Y/N in the Prema engineering room, books open but clearly lost in conversation

"We did not stare at each other!" Kimi protested.

"No, you just watch me study every single day," Y/N smirked.

The notifications kept coming:

@CharlesLeclerc: Remember when @KimiAntonelli asked for restaurant recommendations in every city because he wanted to "surprise a friend" during race weekends? 🤔

@CarlosSainz: The friend: @YN_LN 😂

"You asked Charles for restaurant recommendations?" Y/N's expression softened.

"I wanted to make sure you had good places to eat during race weekends," Kimi mumbled. "You forget to eat when you're studying..."

@MaxVerstappen: Called it! Pay up @SChecoPerez - told you he'd watch her quali instead of prep 💰

@SChecoPerez: Next time hide your phone better @KimiAntonelli 😂

Y/N was fully laughing now. "You've got a betting pool on us?"

"The whole paddock apparently," Kimi sighed, but couldn't help smiling at her joy.

@AlexAlbon: POV: You're trying to discuss race strategy but @KimiAntonelli is texting @YN_LN Attached was a video of Kimi smiling at his phone during a strategy meeting

"I'm never going to hear the end of this," Kimi groaned.

"Poor baby," Y/N teased, then her expression turned more serious. "Hey, did you see the analysis I sent about your sector 3? I think if you adjust the entry angle—"

Kimi's heart swelled as she launched into a detailed technical explanation, seamlessly switching between race engineer and student mode. Even with an ocean between them, she was still looking out for him.

@LewisHamilton: Y'all leave them alone - it's sweet 🙌 Some of us remember what it's like to be young and in... racing 😉 @KimiAntonelli @YN_LN

Their phones buzzed simultaneously with a message from Ollie: Group chat "Prema Days" Ollie: LEWIS KNOWS 😭 Even the 7-time champ sees it! Just kiss already!

Y/N rolled her eyes, but Kimi caught the slight blush on her cheeks. "We should probably study," she said, clearly trying to change the subject.

"Of course," Kimi agreed, already pulling out his own notes. "But first - that move into turn 1 for pole? Walk me through it?"

Her face lit up as she began explaining the technical aspects of her qualifying lap, and Kimi found himself smiling softly, completely absorbed in her enthusiasm. In the background, their phones kept buzzing with notifications, the entire F1 grid apparently determined to point out what everyone else could see.

@ValtteriBottas: Taking bets on how long until they officially announce... their "friendship" 😏

@MercedesAMGF1: The way @KimiAntonelli watches all her races from our garage when we're at different tracks 🥺

@ZhouGuanyu24: Don't forget how he explains her engineering projects to us during track walks! Never seen someone so proud 😂

But for Kimi and Y/N, wrapped up in their own little world of race analysis and study sessions, the teasing was just background noise. Their connection, whether across the paddock or across continents, remained as strong as ever – even if the entire F1 grid seemed determined to turn it into the paddock's favorite love story.

"Hey," Y/N said softly, interrupting his thoughts. "Earth to Kimi?"

"Sorry, just thinking."

"About how the entire F1 grid is never gonna let up on you?" she teased.

"About how lucky I am to have you in my corner, even from far away."

Her expression melted into something tender that made all the paddock's teasing worth it. "Always, Kimi. Distance doesn't change that."

@OllieBearman: I've been watching this romcom live since Prema and let me tell you, it only gets better 🍿 #KimiAndYN

This time, neither of them bothered to protest.

The blue light of the laptop screen illuminated Y/N's face as she finished highlighting another passage in her thermodynamics textbook. A soft snore made her look up at her phone propped against the desk lamp - Kimi had dozed off during their FaceTime call, his face peaceful in sleep. The sight brought an involuntary smile to her face.

It was typical of their study sessions these days. Between his F1 schedule and her F1 Academy races, late-night calls were often the only time they could catch up. He'd insist on keeping her company while she studied, claiming he was reviewing race data, but more often than not he'd fall asleep to the sound of her pen scratching against paper.

She closed her textbook quietly, though she knew the sound wouldn't wake him - he could sleep through anything after a long day at the track. As she started her bedtime routine, her mind wandered over their relationship, this comfortable space they'd carved out for themselves between friendship and something more.

The paddock gossip was relentless these days. Every shared smile, every supportive tweet, every time he watched her races from the Mercedes garage - it all became fodder for speculation. Even Ollie, who'd known them since their Prema days, wouldn't let up with his knowing looks.

Standing at her bathroom sink, Y/N caught her own reflection smiling at the memory of Kimi's proud face when she'd explained a particularly complex engineering concept earlier. He'd leaned closer to his camera, completely absorbed, that familiar warmth in his eyes that made her heart skip a beat.

The truth was, she knew how she felt about him. It was there in the way her day felt brighter when his name lit up her phone, in how naturally they'd gravitated toward each other since their junior racing days, in the comfortable silence of their study sessions. But timing was everything in racing - they both knew that better than most.

They were both chasing their dreams at full speed. He was making his mark in F1, living up to the immense expectations placed on Mercedes' youngest driver. She was balancing her engineering degree with her F1 Academy campaign, working toward her own F1 dreams. Adding another variable to that equation felt risky.

Climbing into bed, Y/N glanced one last time at her phone. Kimi had shifted slightly, his features soft in sleep, Mercedes team jacket still on. They had something special - something that had grown organically from shared ambitions and mutual understanding. Maybe that was enough for now.

Racing taught you patience, after all. Sometimes the best moves weren't the boldest ones, but the ones you waited for, setting them up carefully until the moment was just right. For now, she was content with their late-night study sessions, his proud smiles after her wins, the way he'd listen intently to her engineering explanations even when he was exhausted.

"Goodnight, Kimi," she whispered, ending the call. Whatever they were, whatever they might become, it was worth protecting. Some things didn't need to be rushed.

Her phone buzzed with a text from him, sent automatically when their call disconnected: Sweet dreams, engineer. Proud of you always. ❤️

Yeah, Y/N thought, settling into sleep with a smile. They were just fine exactly as they were.

here are some of the tags: @floweringanna, @hiraethberry, @holendernik, @oooom4arie, @burnhampeaches, @dying-inside-but-its-classy

let me know if you want to be added to the list :))

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snakedemonstories · 16 days ago

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You know what? I love Xiao Yao. She has her abandonment issues and blah blah blah, but even now after all that he's said and done to her (let's remember: he has told her he had no feelings for her, that opening her heart up to FFB was foolish, he hurt her using the bug and made her feel like she is merely a pawn to his purpose) she still considers him a friend. And has the courage to tell him so. Risking a hurtful reply from him. Because even at this point, she still hopes that he can change his mind and save himself from a certain death. And that means more to her than keeping her ego intact.

His reply is not surprising at all. All he does at this point is push her away and make her hate him. He won't be another person who abandoned her, because he won't allow himself to get close to her.

#these last scenes of them are heartbreaking #and i don't get why there are comments online against xiao yao #she is doing her best with what he is offering #she has given him so many chances #and even now offers her friendship and support #she never abandoned him or didn't care for him #and btw all those things she says and does are out of her comfort zone psychologically #she is able to bypass her traumas for him #i have my abandonment issues so i can guess how hard it must have been for her #lost you forever #lost you forever 2 #xiang liu #xiao yao #unwanted commentary #mine

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ante--meridiem · 8 months ago

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Well. Potentially inadvisable message I sent a few days ago not really expecting a reply to did, in fact, get a reply.

#personal #for those with enough knowledge of blog lore to know what I'm talking about here:#I caved and messaged First Ex/Former Closest Friend again #out of a mixture of the fact that I keep circling back to that friendship breakup on an approximately monthly basis that I knew #I'd never be able to really let it go unless I at least tried once #and the confidence from my knowledge of him that if our positions were reversed *he* would have tried #in any case. He's not sure if we'll succeed in being friends again but he *is* willing to talk #on the condition (which I offered in my initial message) of me not telling any of the people we mutually know #that he ended up having issues with #that we are speaking with #& there is (unsurprisingly since there was clearly a lot missing from the stories I'd gotten) more to said issues than I'd heard about #which it sounds like he's going to elaborate on when we talk #I think the biggest difficulty for me in re-establishing contact like this is going to be accepting that he and my mother #outright despise each other now #which. l mean - I'd never claim she's perfect #she can be very blunt in a way that comes off as just *mean* and hurtful and I've been hurt by that too #but she's also been a much better parent to me than most people's parents seem to be to them #it's possible maybe even likely that if some of our arguments when I was younger had ended in us cutting ties rather than #eventually talking it through that I would see her the same way Former Closest Friend does #but they didn't and she's been at certain points amazingly supportive since #so it's likely I'm going to have a hard time reconciling the version of her he's going to present to me with that #even though I'm totally open to believing that he's justified in how he feels about whatever happened #& I'm not going to be able to process it out loud irl bc that would violate the 'not telling people involved about this' clause #so there may be a lot of venty personal tumblr posts coming soon to a blog near you

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saintobio · 5 months ago

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blank canvas: the epilogue.

pairings. ryōmen sukuna, fem!reader

genre. past lovers, angst, opposites attract

tags/warnings. mentions of toxic relationships, purple hearts-ish themes, maybe some heartache

notes. 2.4k wc. i said it’ll come in a few days, but i had free time so here it issss!

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

TWO YEARS LATER

Tonight was Yuki and Choso’s going-away party.

Their decision to migrate to another side of the world was because Yuki had always talked about wanting to live abroad, and so when Choso was offered a once-in-a-lifetime job opportunity in another country, it became the perfect chance for them to make that dream a reality.

So despite your apprehensions, you couldn’t miss the chance to see Yuki one last time and accepted her invitation to the party.

The evening was alive with laughter and chatter as their families and friends gathered to celebrate their bittersweet departure. Among the crowd, you spotted some familiar faces who exchanged greetings with the couple, as well as some strangers you had never seen before.

But one person was conspicuously absent.

It had been two years since you had seen Sukuna, and the thought of potentially running into him again filled you with a strange mix of anticipation and dread. However, deep down, you knew he wouldn’t be there. There was no chance of him ever showing up because you hadn’t heard from him since that fateful night. The apartment you once shared together now housed a new tenant, and the tattoo shop across the street had transformed into a record store. Neither Yuki, nor Choso (even Yuuji), had mentioned anything about Sukuna since then, possibly avoiding any mentions of him to you out of his request. He had simply disappeared, evaporated from existence, leaving behind nothing but a fading memory.

As you scanned the room with a forlorn smile, your thoughts were interrupted by Yuki’s cheerful voice. “Y/N! So glad you could make it! I thought you weren’t gonna come, too.”

Your first instinct was to hug her tightly. “Of course, not! You know I can’t not see you before you go.”

“Aww.” She embraced you tighter before pulling away with a sad smile. “I’m gonna miss you so much. You’re like a little sister to me.”

Indeed, and she was the big sister you never had. Things would feel different without her here, but you supported her decisions and would always wish her the best in her future endeavors. So, despite the distance you two would soon have, you gave her a reassuring pat on the back. “We can still keep in touch. And maybe, I’ll pay you a visit there, too.”

“Honestly, I would love that!” she enthused, “Please do, even if I have to harass Getou and Gojou about it.”

You chuckled as she mentioned the duo’s name and spent the next few minutes with you chatting for a bit, catching up with your life, talking about your future plans. It was amazing how much can change in two years, and how some things can also stay the same. Like your friendship. And this bond that you would never find with anyone else.

For now, the night was still young, and you knew Yuki still had many more guests to accommodate, so you didn’t want to take all of her time. Eventually she did excuse herself to greet more guests, and you found yourself standing by the kitchen island, absentmindedly stirring your cocktail.

As you stood in the corner of the room, surrounded by the chatter and laughter of the party, you felt a sudden jolt run through your body as loud voices boomed across the room. They were Yuuji and Choso’s exuberant greetings cutting through the air, drawing everyone’s attention, including yours.

“Nii-san!”

“There he goes, Mr. First Lieutenant!”

Your eyes widened as you saw the figure they were addressing with playful salute—a man in a crisp military uniform, standing tall and confident. It took you a moment to recognize him, but when you did, your heart skipped a beat.

It was Sukuna.

He looked different, transformed almost, his demeanor more composed, his smile softer yet still retaining the undeniable aura of masculinity. He looked a lot more muscular than the last you remembered. His hair, now dyed back to its natural color, was neatly trimmed. You recognized that the uniform he wore was of the Japan Self-Defense Forces, adorned with badges and insignias that spoke of his achievements. The reckless, wild look in his eyes had been replaced by something steadier, more focused.

It wasn’t just the sight of him that made your heart skip a beat—it was how different he looked.

“That’s so cool!” Yuuji raved about his older brother’s badges, his starry eyes genuinely intrigued at the sight of Sukuna in a uniform.

Choso, on the other hand, was pulling him in a hug in an emotional jest. “Dammit. You said you couldn’t make it!”

“Don’t cry now,” Sukuna teased, patting the younger brother’s back. He seemed to be genuinely having fun teasing his brothers. “Had to pull some strings. I was on duty, but do ‘ya think I’d let you go without seeing you?”

You felt a pang of nostalgia in their interaction, but also recognized the visible difference in the way your ex-boyfriend spoke to others. He was genuinely happy. He was all smiles. He was the healthiest version of himself, both physically and emotionally.

It was clear to you that Sukuna had turned his life around, and it was evident that he was doing well in his field of work. The man you once knew, who had been consumed by his reckless way of life, was now standing tall and respected as an honorable member of the military.

When you said you had never met Sukuna again in your lifetime, that was true. Because the Sukuna you knew was no longer here. It was an entirely different man, changed for the better, just not for you.

As if sensing your gaze, Sukuna turned and your eyes mirrored each other’s surprise. For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away, as if you were characters in a movie screen seeing each other for the very first time. It was as though your eyes were the camera, and he was the actor. You could say you were starstruck, your heart thumping so loud that you could hear it vibrate through your ears.

Two freaking years, and Sukuna still had that effect on you.

You didn’t know what to do. You found yourself at a loss, the red cup in your hand now shaking from the sudden surge of anxiety. Your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts, a kaleidoscope of heavy emotions, a tornado of nostalgic bliss, leaving you feeling adrift in a sea of memories.

You wondered if Sukuna hated having to see you here. And if so, should you leave to spare yourself—or perhaps him—from any potential discomfort?

Caught in this internal struggle, you felt paralyzed, uncertain of what to do next. But then, you saw a flicker of recognition and regret in his eyes.

Before you could even contemplate your next move, Sukuna was already excusing himself from his brothers. Their knowing looks exchanged in silence spoke volumes, indicating they were aware of where he was headed. The realization then hit you like a wave. Sukuna, your ex-boyfriend of two years, was coming toward you, and you were suddenly faced with a decision between confronting the past or making a quick escape.

“Y/N,” he greeted with a boyish grin, his voice deeper, more controlled. The bad boy persona he used to carry was completely gone.

“Sukuna,” you replied, struggling to keep your voice steady, a complete opposite from his confidence.

There was a moment of awkward silence before he spoke again. “You look great.”

“Thanks,” you meekly replied, clearing your throat and gesturing to his uniform, “You, too. Military suits you. I never saw that coming.”

He smiled in agreement, seemingly happy about his current appearance. You had never seen this kind of bliss from him before, like he was filled with content and a sense of self-worth. He was proud, and truth be told, you were, too.

“It’s been a good change. It gave me structure, purpose,” he paused, taking a red cup from the kitchen island nearby, “I finally got something ‘better’ to do with my life, huh?”

You smiled softly, not missing the implication of his last statement. “I’m happy for you. Really.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.”

“Mhmm.”

The minutes that followed were some of the most agonizing of your life, not because of Sukuna, but because of the overwhelming awkwardness that enveloped the two of you. It felt as though you had nothing else to discuss, knowing full well that delving into your shared past was a territory you could never comfortably navigate. However, Sukuna, always the more vocal one in your relationship, had finally broken the silence.

“Do you…” he began, leaving you on edge, anticipating his question, “Do you wanna get some fresh air outside?”

Right. And with a smile, you nodded. “Sure.”

— —

You were grateful for the opportunity to escape the stifling atmosphere of the party and find some solace in the cool night air. Both of you were at the front porch, sitting over the pavement talking about anything but your past.

Sukuna excitedly talked about his time in the military, where you learned that he had enlisted two years ago and joined the army. After enlisting, he quickly excelled in the rigorous training required for the Special Operations Group (SOG). It didn’t surprise you that his physical prowess, sharp intellect, and determination made him a standout candidate.

“I actually completed advanced courses in counter-terrorism, reconnaissance, and combat survival,” he shared, his gaze set on the clear starry night above you. “Oh, and last month, I was deployed on a high-stake mission overseas. We extracted hostages from a conflict zone. Remember the action movies we used to watch? It was exactly like that. It was fun, thrilling.”

You listened intently, an elbow propped on your leg as you absorbed the enthusiasm in his stories. Pride and joy swelled in your heart as you heard him talk about something he was passionate about, because it was a stark contrast to the old Sukuna who wouldn’t have shown interest in these things. And this time around, you felt like you were infatuated again, but with the new him.

“I’m really proud of you.” Longingness dripping from your voice. “Very proud. And you’re First Lieutenant, too? Wow.”

The compliment seemingly made him blush, a sight so rare to see that you haven’t seen it throughout your relationship. “I wanted to become a better man.”

You felt a squeeze in your heart. You recalled the words he said that night at the parking lot, of him telling you that he had his own insecurities, too. That he knew all along that your uncertainties about him were rooting from his way of life. That he was aware that he couldn’t give you the life you deserved.

“Y/N.” Your name rolled off his tongue in an affectionate manner. He soon rose from his seat, prompting you to follow suit, before turning to face you. “I forgot to mention.”

You swallowed hard. “Yeah?”

His smile was sweet and genuine. “I’m engaged now.”

Oh.

Of course.

What did you expect?

His words settled in your heart like a suffocating shroud. Despite the ache in your chest, you managed a polite nod, concealing the storm of emotions swirling inside you. But you couldn’t contain it—the damn tears that pooled in your eyes. Please, not now. You turned away, hoping to shield your reaction from him.

But it was all too late.

He was already pulling you into an embrace, the familiarity in his warmth only making you weaker inside. “You are and will always be my greatest love,” he whispered into your ear, pressing his lips against your temple, “And also my biggest regret.”

Damn it. You covered your face with your hands, feeling ashamed of the tears streaming down your cheeks. What an absurd twist of fate. You could have gone about your day without encountering him again, yet here you were, shedding tears over the same man who had broken your heart two years ago.

“When I say regret,” he continued, cupping your cheeks and smiling at you lovingly. He ran his thumb across your cheeks, wiping your tears away. “I meant regret of not being that man for you. I didn’t treat you the way you deserved, or respected your boundaries like I thought I did.” Sukuna’s charm had you holding your breath still, too enamored by his beauty under the moonlight. He used to be a man of a few words, and now he didn’t shy away from pouring out his raw emotions. “I’m sorry I was two years too late. I’m sorry I had to let you go and be with someone else. But you and I know that it’s for the best.”

You weren’t crying because you wanted to get back together with him. You weren’t crying because he had promised marriage to someone else. You were crying because it felt like he was the one who slipped through your fingers, the one that got away, the one who could have been your forever if circumstances had aligned differently. It was the regret of a lost possibility, the ache of knowing that in another universe, you and him could have shared a lifetime together, untouched by the mistakes of the past.

He had dreams of making you his wife, dreams of having your children, dreams of growing old with you.

But the old Sukuna was dead, replaced by the new Sukuna who was happy and free from love’s toxicity. You realized it was time to let go. Time to bury the past and instead celebrate the future.

“Congratulations on the engagement,” you offered your well wishes, pulling away slightly to meet his gaze with your tear-filled eyes. “I hope she doesn’t find you a handful.”

He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “No, no. I have to behave or else I’m a dead man,” he joked. “She's in the army, too.”

“Well, I’m glad you met her, Sukuna. You deserve it,” you said, your voice filled with genuine warmth as you wiped your lachrymose eyes.

Gratitude and comfort shone in his gaze. “And I’m glad you found your peace, Y/N. You always deserved better.”

You smiled in appreciation of his words as he helped you dust off your pants. Just then, your phone buzzed in your pocket, briefly taking your attention away from the current scene. “Uh, I think I need to go,” you hesitated, glancing back at the house. “But I think Yuki’s pretty busy.”

“It’s fine,” he assured. “Do you want me to call you a cab or?”

“No, it’s okay,” you replied, shooting him a grateful expression. “Satoru’s on his way to pick me up.”

He nodded, smiling. “Cool.” You were surprised when he offered his hand, a gesture to finally close whatever remained between you two. “It was nice seeing you, Y/N.”

You shook his hand and gave him a playful salute. “Likewise, First Lieutenant Ryomen Sukuna.”

As he returned to the party, immediately attacked by his friends, there was no hint of yearning or longing in him, as if the poignant exchange with his ex-girlfriend had never occurred. He was back in the scene in a fluid motion, laughing, catching up with his loved ones, telling stories about his life. No heartbreaks, no painful memories.

While as you stood there, knowing you had shared respect and love for each other, you were happy that there was a sense of closure in seeing Sukuna as the man he had become. You had both grown, both changed, and in that moment, you knew that your story, though painful, had led you two to where you needed to be.

That your love’s canvas, once blank, now held colors to complete the portrait.

#sukuna angst #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk angst

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malewifesband · 6 months ago

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i see it often that people do not see laios liking kabru, but in reality laios does like kabru! quite a lot for a guy that (from his perspective) he just met! laios forgetting kabrus exact name is not evidence of disinterest in any way--hes only heard it a couple of times, he struggles with small details (unless you want to argue laios also doesnt give a shit about marcille, chilchuck and senshi, he also forgets small details about them. if you do think this, i think dungeon meshi may be too advanced for you. stick to bluey.), and the man has autism. like near explicitly.

laios offers food from their limited supplies because kabru showed an interest in eating monsters, and makes him an omelette so he can have something to eat even though other food was already being prepared. he listens to kabrus criticism of his behavior and mindset in trying to protect falin even though she was straight up killing people, and tries to drag kabru to safety. he watches kabru defuse the situation between himself and toshiro masterfully, and confides in him how hurt he is that toshiro is so angry and how he mustve done something truly awful to upset him like that. when kabru tells him that meeting him was the best part of his time in the dungeon, laios agrees and says its the same for him (remember: laios doesnt do empty platitudes well--if he said it, he meant it).

when kabru leaves, we get three fucking panels in a row of laios staring after him, flexing the hand kabru was just holding, and reflecting on kabrus words ("next time..?")

when kabru shows up again deep in the dungeon, chilchuck is suspicious, but laios is so excited to see him that he throws caution to the wind and lets kabru hold his hand again despite seconds later crossing succubus off his list of shapeshifters that could be appearing as kabru--a carelessness around monsters and danger laios rarely exhibits. when kabru gives his warning about the canaries, laios is grateful. he notices how often kabru saves his skin

when lycion reveals that kabru lied about wanting to eat the omelette laios made, it breaks his heart because he made that with love! he made it for kabru, and kabru didnt like it, and now he knows kabru was just playing at friendship to use him. that breaks his heart, hes distraught, but he doesnt have time to be hurt about it when marcille needs his help urgently so he turns to run to her. he apologizes to kabru and tries to leave again. he isnt listening to what kabru is saying here because kabru was just revealed as a liar and because it doesnt really cohere (kabru is stuttering and speaking in broken sentences as he tries to explain about the dungeons power) and he needs to save marcille

he doesnt believe kabru wanted to be his friend, because who would? why would laios be special enough, loveable enough, to go through the pains kabru went through, just to be his friend? but when kabru makes the intensity of his desire known, laios promises to feed him again, at a proper restaurant --and again, food is care for laios, to feed someone is to love them. marcille is still his priority bc she is in real danger but he means what he says, he really does want to start over with kabru and be real friends with him

once we hit the resolution of the story, kabru near glues himself to laios, helping him and trying to cement himself as a right-hand man, and making known his intent to support laios no matter what. in the medieval manuscript style epilogue, kabru is one of two friends that stick by laios as he becomes king. both marcille and kabru become the people closest to him (besides falin of course), two friends who will always support him, always let him know when hes fucked up and theyre mad at him, two friends who he can rely on. laios did not have to accept kabru as an advisor, he did not have to ask him to stay with him. he did that because after everything, he trusts kabru now, and knows he can count on him

while laios doesnt give any big monologues about what he likes about kabru, its very clear he does, and we know what things laios values in other people. he appreciates kabrus social skills (very clear in the post canon comic in the adventurers bible), his intelligence, that kabru WANTS to be around him and understand him even though its difficult, his strength, and frankly he does appreciate his charm (three fucking panels straight of staring after him). laios really values people with specialized skillsets who are willing to tell him frankly what they think and advise him in areas he is weak in (something we see in his relationship with... i was gonna say namari but its everyone. he does this with everyone he likes. and in the resolution kabru does this CONSTANTLY he does not go a panel without giving laios his professional opinion on how to deal with people).

in conclusion: arent you hungry, kabru? let laios make something for you

#kabru #laios touden #dungeon meshi #kabru of utaya #labru #not explicitly for my labru girlies but it feels sometimes like we are the only ones who understand that these characters are friends

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winterarmyy · 5 months ago

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He Hates Me, Doesn't He?

A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.

Summary: You hurt Bucky's girl, and now he hates you.

Pairing: tfatws!bucky x female!reader

Words: 6.7k++

Warnings: angstyyyyyyyyy, but with happy ending because I cannot live in agony. miscommunication galore. 'I want to strangle bucky's girlfriend.' soft reader, cold/mean bucky. bucky should've grovel more. horrible attempt of writing verbal arguments. nothing much but pain.

Inspiration: I remember reading a bucky fic years ago and I like the pain that it caused me to feel. Idk why the pain suddenly came back to me lately. So, this is my take on the same idea. I haven't able to find it. But when I do, I'll reblog it in my another acc!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

y/n had always been a steady presence in the Avengers, known for her gentle demeanour and unwavering support. Her relationship with Bucky Barnes had blossomed from a quiet friendship into something deeper. When they first met, Bucky was reserved and hesitant, still grappling with his past as the Winter Soldier. y/n, with her gentle nature and patient understanding, slowly helped him come out of his shell.

She remembered the sleepless nights they spent together when they were on the run with Steve and Sam. They'd share stories, and sometimes just sit in silence, her quiet company offering solace to Bucky's restless mind. The unspoken bond growing stronger with each passing day. Bucky looked up to her, finding comfort in her presence, and in turn, he became fiercely protective of her. They'd watch each other's backs during missions, their synergy on the battlefield a testament to their deep connection.

And somewhere along the line, she fell for him. She had fallen for Bucky's resilience and vulnerability, though she never expected more, knowing that a relationship was not what he needed right now. At least, that's what she thought. Little did she know, Bucky had always loved her; ever since the day she offered him tea the first night they were on the run to Wakanda. Maybe she was just simply aloof, or maybe Bucky’s flirting skills weren’t translated the way he wanted, but they never crossed the line between friendship and ‘something more’.

Then when Jen came into the picture, it felt like things started to change. Jen was bold and confident, and it wasn't long before she caught Bucky's eye. Their relationship seemed to spring up overnight, and y/n, though hurt, tried to be happy for Bucky. Jen was supportive and caring, or so it seemed, and Bucky deserved happiness.

Now, as planned the team was instructed to moved into the Avenger compound for a few months to train new recruits. It had only been the first month but surely it was jam packed with endless of rigorous training sessions. The original team—y/n, Sam, Bucky, Jen, Clint, and his mentee Kate Bishop—were all assigned to train the new recruits, with additional of few agents from different branches coming in to help out.

y/n was heading to the training room; she knew it was way too early but she thought that if she didn’t get out of bed now, she might not even get up at all. To her surprise, she was not the first one. She saw a few new trainees were already on the way to the training room; some of them greeted her a good morning. She simply smiled at their enthusiasm.

The moment she entered the area, she overheard voices coming from the corner of the room. She paused, recognizing Jen's voice, which was raised and laced with contempt. Curiosity piqued, y/n stepped closer, staying just out of sight behind the white board. In hindsight, it might seem weird that she was sneaking around to eavesdrop on Jen, but she couldn't help it.

Initially, y/n liked Jen. She tried to welcome her into their tight-knit group and even supported her relationship with Bucky. However, as time went on, Jen began acting strange. The things she said about Bucky sometimes sounded condescending. She would make comments like, "It's amazing how well he's adjusted, considering his past," or, "It's great that he's trying so hard to be normal." The way she acted often differed from her words, with Jen giving Bucky disapproving glances or sighing heavily whenever he mentioned something from his troubled past.

She had noticed these discrepancies and started to feel uneasy around Jen. She couldn't shake the feeling that Jen’s support was just a facade. Now, standing behind the whiteboard, she strained to hear the conversation.

"…and honestly, I don’t understand how anyone can trust him," Jen was saying. "I mean, sure, he's got that whole 'reformed hero' thing going on now, but let’s be real. He was Hydra’s pet assassin for decades. The things he’s done? It’s unforgivable."

Her friend, another agent from a different branch, nodded hesitantly. "But you’re dating him, aren’t you? Doesn’t that mean you trust him?"

Jen laughed, a cold, humourless sound. "Dating him? Please. I’m in it for the fame and the perks. Have you seen the way people look at us? Besides, he’s hot, I’ll give him that. But trust him? Never. People like him don’t change. They’re broken. He's a monster, and he always will be. It’s only a matter of time before he snaps again."

y/n felt a surge of anger rise within her. How dare Jen talk about Bucky like that?

Memories flooded her mind, flashing back to Bucky’s nightmare-plagued nights. She remembered the prominent dark circles under his eyes, the haunted look that never quite left his face. The silent pain he endured, adjusting to a modern world where he felt like an outsider, magnified when Steve left. She could still see the wary, suspicious glances people cast in his direction, the whispers behind his back when they first ventured out. Before the fame he acquired as he regained his reputation after the Flag-Smasher incident.

She had witnessed his hardships firsthand—the nightmares that woke him in a cold sweat, the moments of crippling doubt and self-loathing. But she had also seen his triumphs, the small victories that slowly built his confidence. The first time he laughed freely in her presence, the genuine smile that lit up his face when he finally allowed himself to relax. She cherished those moments, the sunshine that broke through the clouds of his tortured past.

All of this came rushing back, breaking the chains on the Pandora's box inside of her. The fury she felt wasn't just for the disrespect to Bucky; it was for every ounce of pain he had suffered, every moment of joy he had fought so hard to reclaim. Her eyes hardened with resolve as she stepped forward, her voice steady but cold. "Take that back," she demanded, her presence startling both Jen and her friend.

Jen turned slowly, a smirk spreading across her face as she saw y/n. She knew from the beginning about the cute little crush y/n had on Bucky. To be frank, everybody sort of knew about it, except for Bucky somehow.

"Or else what, y/n?" she replied with a mocking tone. "You’re quite pathetic aren’t you? You think that I can’t see how you’ve been eye-fucking my boyfriend all this time? Come on, now. Backing him up would not give you a leeway into his pants, y/n."

y/n’s face went through a range of emotions—shock, embarrassment, and then seething anger. Jen’s words were like poison, each one landing like a punch to the gut.

Jen continued, confidence oozing out of her cocky demeanor, "Besides, we all know that I can easily beat you in a fight, doll"

The use of doll—a nickname Bucky had given y/n from day one, when Steve had quite literally kidnapped Bucky from the government—made y/n blood boil. Hearing it from Jen felt like a personal attack, a deliberate attempt to undermine everything she shared with Bucky.

And it was true that Jen had graduated top of her batch from the Avengers program and had countless successful missions under her belt, but y/n knew this wasn't about accolades or abilities. This was about something deeper, something more personal.

y/n clenched her fists, taking a step closer. "You think this is about who can fight better?" she said, her voice shaking with restrained fury. "This is about respect. You don’t get to talk about Bucky like that."

Jen scoffed, a cruel smile on her lips. "Respect? For that monster? You’re delusional. He’s a ticking time bomb, a liability to the team. And deep down, everyone knows it."

y/n’s patience snapped. In one swift motion, she slapped Jen hard across the face, the sound echoing through the room. Jen stumbled and fell to the ground, shock and anger flashing across her features.

She stalks forward like a predator cornering its prey, "I’m just done with your lies and your insults. Bucky deserves better than you." Jen instinctively crawled backwards towards the centre of the room. Seeing that she got the attention of the few new recruits she regained her composure, smirked again, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. "You’re pathetic, y/n," she taunted. "Defending a lost cause." her voice was loud enough for y/n to hear but quiet enough that the others might not be able to decipher her words.

At that moment, Bucky and Sam burst into the room, followed closely behind by a new recruit who alerted them of the incident. Bucky’s eyes widened as he took in the scene—Jen on the ground, y/n standing over her, shaking with rage. "What’s going on here?" His demand was completely ignored as y/n’s mind was hyper-focused on the wrath bubbling within her.

"Get up," y/n demanded, her voice shaking with wrath. Bucky’s momentarily froze as he watched the confrontation escalate before him. y/n, usually so composed, was now a whirlwind of rage, her eyes blazing as she stood over a trembling Jen. Bucky had always known her to be fierce in battle, but this was different—this was raw, unbridled anger. "I'm going to make you regret every word you said. So get on your fucking feet before I rip it off you.."

Jen, still on the ground, looked up at y/n with wide, teary eyes, playing the role of the victim to perfection. "Please, I didn't– I don’t know what you're…," she whimpered, casting a fearful glance at Bucky and Sam, who had just arrived on the scene.

Bucky's mind raced. Why was she doing this? He stepped forward, trying to diffuse the situation. "y/n, hey!" he shouted, his voice a mix of confusion and anger. "What are you doing?"

Completely ignoring him, "Get up," y/n snarled, her eyes blazing with intensity. "Get up and fight me. I’ll show you who the real monster is." Jen looked up, her hand on her cheek, disbelief mingling with her fury. "You’re crazy," she spat, scrambling to her feet.

Her response was only a furious shout. "I said, get up!"

"y/n, are you crazy?!" Bucky yelled, moving quickly to intervene. He grabbed her wrist, his grip tight and unforgiving.

She turned her fierce gaze towards Bucky; her expression momentarily faltering at the hurt in his eyes. "Bucky, you don’t understand, she--" she began, but the words caught in her throat as she saw Jen's smirk flicker for just a second.

"There's nothing to understand," Bucky snapped. "You’re acting insane."

y/n looked at him, her eyes filled with hurt and frustration. "Bucky, you have to listen—"

But he cut her off, his expression hard. "I don’t care! You hurt her, y/n. You think I don’t see that bruise on her cheek?!" Bucky shouted, his face contorted with anger. His eyes, usually filled with a gentle warmth when he looked at y/n, were now blazing with fury. "This isn’t like you, y/n. I’ve noticed that you’ve never liked Jen, and I don’t know why. But this? This is just immature and reckless." His metal grip on y/n's wrist was tighter than he intended. She winced, her eyes watering not just from the pain but from the sting of his words.

y/n had never seen Bucky like this. His anger was palpable, radiating off him in waves. It was like being hit with a physical force, and she felt her heart breaking under the weight of it. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them away, her anger flaring even hotter. "Bucky, you don’t understand," she tried to explain, but the words caught in her throat.

Bucky’s expression remained hard, the force on her wrist tightening painfully. "You need to grow up, y/n," he seethed, his disappointment evident in his tone. "You're always causing drama lately, and it needs to stop. Jen’s been there for me in ways you haven’t, and I won’t tolerate you attacking her like this."

The words cut through her like a knife. Her heart shattered at his harshness, at the realization that Bucky thought so little of her. She yanked her wrist free, feeling the sting of his grip lingering. "Fine," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Believe what you want."

Without another word, she turned and stormed out, leaving Bucky standing there, torn between confusion and guilt.

A gnawing sense of remorse tugging at him, but he couldn't shake the confusion and anger clouding his mind. "Jen, are you okay?" he asked, helping her to her feet.

Jen, tucking herself to his side, managed to summon a few tears, looking up at Bucky with a feigned innocence. "I don’t know why she hates me so much," she murmured, playing her part perfectly.

Bucky fingers softly traces on her wounded cheek before his gaze switched to y/n’s retreating form, a knot tightening in his chest. He wasn’t sure why those mean words had spouted out of his lips. Was it because he saw Jen injured on the ground and his protective instincts kicked in? Or was it because Jen had been whispering doubts in his ear about y/n’s loyalty, making him question his longtime friend?

The truth was, Bucky had always relied on y/n’s unwavering support. She had been his rock through the toughest times, and seeing her so furious, so hurt, shook him to his core. Yet, in the heat of the moment, he had lashed out, unable to reconcile the image of Jen crying with the fierce anger that radiated from y/n.

As Bucky comforted Jen, his mind was a storm of conflicting emotions. He couldn't shake the image of hurt on her face, nor could he ignore the nagging feeling that he was missing a crucial piece of the puzzle.

On the side, Sam was only able to watch the scene play out silently, a frown creasing his brow. He had a feeling there was more to this story, and he intended to get to the bottom of it.

As weeks passed, the rift between Bucky and y/n deepened, fueled by Jen's cunning manipulation. In a private conversation, Jen planted seeds of doubt in Bucky's mind, suggesting that y/n harboured hidden resentments and intentions.

"I hate to say it, Bucky, but maybe she's not who we thought she was," Jen insinuated, her voice dripping with false concern. "Maybe she's been hiding her true feelings all along, waiting for the right moment to strike."

Bucky, already vulnerable and confused after the incident in the training room, absorbed Jen's words like poison, allowing them to fester and take root in his mind. He began to view y/n through a new lens, one tainted by suspicion and distrust. This single conversation, filled with subtle manipulations and insidious suggestions, was all it took to fracture the bond between Bucky and y/n, leaving Bucky cold and distant towards the one person who had always stood by his side.

Most days he would avoid eye contact with her during team meetings, barely acknowledging her presence when they were forced to interact. In training sessions, his instructions to her were curt and clipped, lacking the warmth and camaraderie they once shared. y/n felt each of these interactions like a stab to the heart.

She couldn't understand how quickly Bucky had turned against her, how easily he had accepted Jen's version of events without even giving her a chance to explain. The hurt festered inside her, eating away at her sense of self-worth.

Then one night, as y/n sat alone on the rooftop, staring out into the darkness, Sam found her there. He knew this was where she retreated when she needed space to think, to process her emotions. He approached her cautiously, sitting down beside her without a word.

"Why aren't you at dinner, y/n?" Sam finally asked, breaking the silence. He could see the emptiness in her eyes, the weight of her sorrow pressing down on her.

She shook her head, her voice hollow. "Lost my appetite," she muttered, her gaze still fixed on the horizon.

Sam gently prodded, knowing there was more to her withdrawal than just a lack of hunger. "Is it because of what happened the other day at the training room?" he asked softly.

Instantly, her demeanor shifted. Anger flared in her eyes, directed not just at Jen and Bucky, but at the entire situation. "I don't want to talk about it, Sam," she snapped, her frustration bubbling to the surface. But Sam wasn't one to give up easily, especially when he knew how much y/n was hurting. "Come on, y/n," he urged, his voice gentle but insistent. "You can't keep bottling this up. Talk to me."

Her expression softened slightly at Sam's persistence, but the pain still lingered in her eyes. "Seriously, Sam, please just drop it," she pleaded, her voice wavering with emotion.

Sam could see the cracks forming in her facade, the vulnerability seeping through the tough exterior she usually projected. Without a word, he pulled her into a comforting embrace, letting her bury her face against his shoulder.

As she clung to him, her facade finally crumbled. Her lips trembled, her eyes filled with unshed tears. "He hates me, doesn't he?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbreak. "Bucky hates me."

Sam held her tighter, offering silent comfort as she grappled with the weight of her sorrow. He knew there were no easy answers, no quick fixes to mend the shattered pieces of y/n's heart. But in that moment, all he could do was be there for her, a steady anchor in the storm of her emotions.

The dim glow of the kitchen's overhead light provided a faint sense of solace in the otherwise silent darkness of the compound. Bucky sat at the wooden table, his tired eyes staring blankly at the cup of untouched tea before him. It was a nightly ritual lately, this dance with sleeplessness and the haunting memories that lurked in the shadows of his mind yet again.

Footsteps broke the stillness, and Bucky's gaze shifted to the entrance of the kitchen. y/n stood hesitantly in the doorway, her presence casting a tentative aura over the room. There was a palpable tension between them, an unspoken weight that hung heavy in the air.

She cleared her throat, breaking the awkward silence. "Mind if I join you?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She was expecting Bucky to ignore her completely but he didn’t; Bucky simply shrugged nonchalantly, his guard seemed to flatter. "Suit yourself," he muttered.

As she quietly took a seat opposite him, a heavy silence settled between them. Bucky's thoughts churned with a whirlwind of emotions, each one vying for dominance over the others. His guard seemed to falter in the presence of her tentative yet comforting aura. The weight of his own vulnerability loomed large in his mind, drowning out the anger he had harboured towards her.

As the silence stretched between them, she felt a surge of compassion wash over her. She knew why he was awake at this time. She knew that the tea he brewed was to help him sleep. She was the one who planted that habit to him after all.

And despite everything that had transpired between them, she couldn't bear to see Bucky suffer alone. With a deep breath to steady her nerves, she decided to reach out to him, to offer what little comfort she could.

Without a word, y/n rose from her seat and moved to stand behind Bucky's chair. He stiffened at her touch, his muscles tense with apprehension. But as her gentle hands began to massage the tension from his neck, a wave of unexpected relief washed over him.

Her touch was soft and comforting, a stark contrast to the coldness he had grown accustomed to due to Jen’s unwillingness to acknowledge this side of him. She ran her fingers through his hair, coaxing him to relax, to let go of the burdens that weighed heavily on his shoulders. For a brief moment, Bucky allowed himself to forget the walls he had built around his heart. In her presence, her voice, and her touch; he felt a glimmer of hope, a flicker of warmth that he had long since forgotten.

But then, like a sudden gust of wind extinguishing a fragile flame, the weight of Jen's words came crashing back down upon him. Anger flared within him, hot and fierce, directed not only at y/n but at himself for allowing his heart to yearn for her.

He pushed himself away from the table, his movements sharp and abrupt. "I don't need your pity, y/n," he spat, his words laced with bitterness. "Just leave me alone."

With that, he stormed out of the kitchen, leaving y/n alone in the suffocating silence.The disbelief that clouded her thoughts gave way to a searing agony that twisted in her chest. How could he say such things? How could he push her away so callously, after everything they had shared?

y/n buried her face in her hands, her body trembling with the force of her sobs. The weight of her shattered dreams pressed down on her, crushing her spirit beneath its merciless grip. She had never felt so alone, so utterly abandoned by the one person she had trusted above all others.

The pain of losing Bucky, of losing the love that had sustained her through the darkest of times, threatened to consume her whole. Each breath felt like a struggle, each heartbeat a painful reminder of the emptiness that now filled her soul.

In that moment of crushing despair, she couldn't help but believe that Bucky truly hated her. The thought tore through her like a knife, leaving behind a raw, gaping wound that no amount of time or distance could ever hope to heal.

As she sat alone in the suffocating silence of the kitchen, y/n felt the full weight of her heartbreak descend upon her like a tidal wave. She was lost in a sea of pain and sorrow, drowning in the agony of losing someone she had loved so deeply, so completely. And in that moment, she couldn't help but wonder if she would ever find her way back to the surface again.

Unbeknownst to her, Bucky lingered just out of sight, his heart heavy with guilt. He wanted to go back, to take back his harsh words and hold her close, to chase away the tears that stained her cheeks. But the poison in his mind was too strong, clouding his judgement and trapping him in a cycle of self-destructive despair. And so, with a heavy heart, he turned and walked away, leaving y/n to cry alone in the darkness.

The mission had already been tense enough, but as y/n found herself face to face with Jen in a location she wasn't supposed to be, the atmosphere crackled with an added layer of hostility. It was as if fate had conspired to place them in this confrontation, and her jaw clenched involuntarily as she braced herself for what was to come.

Jen's presence in that spot was no coincidence, and she knew it. Her suspicions were confirmed as Jen turned to face her, a smirk playing on her lips, a gleam of malice in her eyes. y/n's grip tightened on her weapon, her pulse quickening as she prepared for the verbal assault she knew was coming.

"How does it feel, knowing that Bucky hates you now?" Jen's words sliced through the air like a knife, each syllable carrying the weight of y/n’s deepest fears. It was a direct hit, striking at the core of her insecurities, and for a moment, she felt as though the ground had been ripped out from beneath her feet.

But she refused to let Jen see her falter. With a steely resolve, she squared her shoulders and met Jen's gaze head-on, her expression a mask of defiance. She may have been shaken by Jen's words, but she refused to let them break her.

Ignoring the taunts, she focused on the mission at hand, determined to prove her worth despite Jen's attempts to undermine her. But with each passing moment, the weight of Jen's words hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over y/n’s every move.

It was a battle on two fronts – against the enemy they faced together, and against the doubts that threatened to consume her from within. But she refused to back down, drawing strength from the knowledge that she fought not just for herself, but for the team she believed in with all her heart.

But Jen's relentless barrage of insults made it difficult to concentrate, her words like daggers slicing through y/n’s defenses.

"Aww come on y/n, bet you’re reeling in the loss right now, aren’t you." Jen continued, her voice ice cold. "The Asset’s little lapdog, clinging to him like a lost puppy."

y/n’s temper flared at the insult, her grip tightening on her weapon as she fought to keep her emotions in check. But Jen's mocking laughter only fueled the fire burning within her, pushing her to the brink of her patience. "Shut your mouth, Jen," she growled, her voice low and dangerous. "Or I swear to God, I'll make sure that the team finds your body disassembled in one of these rooms."

Jen simply rolled her eyes, unfazed by her threat. "You love him that much, huh?" y/n had no intention to deny that fact; she does love him, "More than you ever could." her voice was firm and true. Jen’s smirk fell as she scoffed. "Ain't that cute, the Winter Soldier and his little psycho sweetheart."

Before y/n could respond, a voice cut through the tension like a knife, freezing her in place. It was Bucky, his expression dark and stormy as he stepped into view. "What's going on here?" he demanded, his eyes narrowing in suspicion as he took in the scene before him.

y/n’s heart sank as she realized that Bucky might have heard everything. She turned around to meet his eyes and his face confirmed her suspicion; he heard it. Bucky had heard everything – every taunt, every insult, every word exchanged between her and Jen; even the confession of her true feelings. She met his gaze; searching for some sign of understanding of his emotions and the little that she saw was: disappointment, betrayal and guilt, mirrored back at her in the depths of his stormy blue eyes.

In that moment, all she wanted to do was pull him into her arms, to pull him away from all the painful memories and hurtful words; so far away that he would forget he had ever been taunted, betrayed, or made to feel less than he was.

Before she could utter a word, let alone take a step towards him, Jen's voice broke through, but it lacked the usual confidence. "Bucky, it's not what you think," she stammered, her eyes darting nervously between Bucky and y/n. "I-I was just..."

y/n’s clenched her jaw, her patience wearing thin as Jen stumbled over her words, unable to come up with a coherent explanation. She could see the confusion and hurt in Bucky's eyes, a reflection of the turmoil raging within her own heart.

"I-I mean," Jen continued, her voice faltering. "I was...um...just trying to...uh..."

But her feeble attempts to justify her actions only served to further incense Bucky. His brow furrowed in anger, his fists clenched at his sides as he struggled to make sense of the situation.

"Enough," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I don't want to hear any more lies."

y/n’s heart ached as she watched Bucky's expression darken with anger and disappointment. She wanted to explain, to tell him the truth about Jen's betrayal and her own misguided attempt to defend him. But the words caught in her throat, choked by the weight of her guilt and regret.

With a heavy sigh, Bucky turned away, his shoulders slumped with defeat. "Let's just finish the mission," he muttered, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "We'll deal with this later."

As he was about to walk away, y/n noticed a red dot on his chest, the unmistakable mark of a sniper's laser sight. Without thinking twice, she leaped towards him, her body acting as a human shield. Time seemed to slow down as she collided with Bucky, pushing him out of the way.

"y/n, no!" Bucky shouted, his voice filled with panic as her body slumped against his chest.

In the chaos, Jen was nowhere to be seen. She had slipped away, taking shelter and ultimately fleeing the area as she heard multiple footsteps approaching.

Bucky tried to pull up his gun, but it was too late. An array of bullets rained down on them. He felt the searing pain of a few shots piercing his own flesh, but it was nothing compared to the sight of y/n’s body being riddled with bullets. She was hit in the shoulder, wrist, thighs, and other places Bucky couldn't even register.

Rage surged through Bucky like an inferno, obliterating any semblance of restraint. He moved with a deadly precision, his eyes blazing with fury as he unleashed a storm of bullets on the enemy. His movements were swift and unforgiving, every shot finding its mark with brutal accuracy. The enemy fell one by one, their bodies collapsing in lifeless heaps. The air was filled with the deafening sound of gunfire and the acrid smell of gunpowder, but Bucky's focus was unyielding.

Within moments, the room was cleared, the enemies wiped out in a flurry of rage-fueled vengeance.

The adrenaline ebbed away, leaving Bucky standing amidst the carnage, his chest heaving. He turned, and his eyes fell on y/n's crumpled form. The sight of her lying in a pool of her own blood shattered his rage, replacing it with a crushing wave of worry and panic.

"Hang in there. Please," Bucky hastily spoke, his voice trembling. He activated his com line, desperation seeping into his tone. "Guys, we need help. y/n... she's... she's been shot. We need to get out of here right now!" Panic coursed through him as he turned his attention back to y/n, frantically trying to stop the bleeding on her stomach. "y/n, doll…please" he pleaded, watching her hazy gaze. "Don't you dare give up on me now. Come on."

"babydoll, stay with me!" Bucky cried, his voice breaking as he cradled her in his arms. Blood soaked through her clothes, staining his hands. "Please, hang on, you can’t leave yet. I haven't told you... I haven't—"

Her eyes fluttered open, her breathing shallow and ragged. "It's okay, Bucky," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the chaos. "It's okay. Don't cry." Her shaking hands struggled to move, and with great effort, she managed to cup Bucky's cheek. The gesture was weak but filled with tenderness. "It's okay," she repeated, her fingers trembling against his skin.

"Don't talk like that," Bucky choked out, his own tears mingling with the blood on his face. "You can't.. I haven't told you...please doll..." His voice wavered with the weight of unspoken words and unconfessed feelings. He hadn't told her how much he truly cared for her, how every moment spent away from her felt like an eternity. He hadn't begged for forgiveness for his coldness, his mistakes, and for letting Jen's poison taint his actions. The guilt gnawed at him, each heartbeat a reminder of the words he hadn't said, the emotions he hadn't expressed.

He pressed her hand harder against his cheek, feeling the warmth of her touch anchoring him in the moment.Her hand weakly brushing against his cheek. "I know, sweetheart," she murmured. "I know."

Bucky's heart shattered as he clung to her, feeling her life slipping away. "No, no, no," he muttered desperately. "You can't leave me. Please, y/n. Please."

She smiled faintly, her eyes closing. "I'm here, Bucky. I'm right here."

With a final, shuddering breath, y/n’s consciousness slipped away. Bucky felt a surge of panic, but he knew he had to move. He lifted her limp body, cradling her against his chest as he ran towards the quinjet. Each step was agony, his own injuries slowing him down, but he didn't care. All that mattered was getting y/n to safety.

"Hang on, y/n," he whispered, his voice trembling. "Hang on. I won't let you go."

In the sterile environment of the medical bay, y/n lay unconscious, her body hooked up to various machines that monitored her vital signs. Bucky sat by her bedside, his eyes red-rimmed and swollen from crying. Every beep of the monitor seemed to echo through the silence, a haunting reminder of her fragile state. He held her hand, his thumb gently caressing her bandaged wrist.

Memories of their time together flooded Bucky's mind, each one a bittersweet reminder of the connection they shared. He remembered the laughter they had shared, the late-night conversations that stretched into the early hours of the morning. He remembered the gentle touch of her hand, the warmth of her smile that never failed to chase away the darkness.

But amidst the memories, there was also pain – the pain of their last conversation, the words left unsaid and the choices left unmade. Bucky's throat tightened as he recalled the day he had walked away from Jen, the air thick with tension and unspoken truths.

His voice was cold and final. "You almost got her killed, Jen," he had said, his eyes blazing with anger. "Stay away from us. Stay away from me."

Jen's eyes had flashed with anger, her words cutting like knives as she lashed out in frustration. "And what, you think you'll find someone better than me?" she had spat, her voice dripping with venom. "Good luck with that, Bucky. You'll never find anyone who would put up with your baggage."

But Bucky had remained resolute, his decision fueled by a sense of longing and regret that threatened to consume him whole. "Maybe not," he had admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I'd rather be alone than with someone who doesn't truly care about me."

Now, as Bucky sat by y/n’s bedside, the weight of his decision bore down on him like a crushing weight. Tears welled in his eyes as he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair away from her face, his fingers trembling with emotion.

"I'm so sorry, babydoll," he whispered, his voice thick with unshed tears. "I never meant for any of this to happen. So, please, wake up. I need you."

But y/n remained unconscious, her breathing shallow and weak as she lay before him. And as Bucky watched over her, his heart heavy with worry and regret, he vowed to do whatever it took to bring her back to him, to keep her safe from harm for all eternity.

For in that moment, Bucky realized that he couldn't bear to lose her – not now, not ever. She was his rock, his anchor in a world of uncertainty and pain. And as he held her hand tightly in his own, he prayed with all his heart that she would find her way back to him, to the love and light that had always guided them through the darkness.

The soft hum of machines filled the air as y/n stirred awake, her senses slowly coming back to her. She blinked, disoriented at first, until her gaze fell upon Bucky, who was sleeping soundly in the chair beside her bed. His hands were clasped tightly around hers, his face peaceful in slumber, but she couldn't help but notice the tear stains on his cheeks, the dark circles under his eyes, the worry lines etched into his forehead.

"How long has it been since?" she wondered to herself, her heart aching at the sight of Bucky's exhausted form. She carefully sat up, trying not to disturb him as she lovingly examined his sleeping face. She couldn't help but smile as she gently ran her fingers through his hair, the soft strands slipping through her fingertips.

Bucky groaned as his sleep was interrupted, muttering something about Sam needs to leave him be; before he abruptly sat up, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Hi there," y/n greeted softly, her eyes sparkling with affection as she watched Bucky's reaction.

For a moment, Bucky seemed unable to comprehend that she was finally awake. His eyes widened in disbelief, his mouth slightly agape. But then the realization hit him, and he threw himself at her, wrapping her in a tight embrace as if she were the most precious thing in the world .Despite the pain that shot through her body, she managed to let out a soft chuckle, returning his embrace with equal fervor. The warmth of his embrace chased away the lingering chill of unconsciousness, and for a moment, everything felt right.

"y/n..." Bucky breathed into her neck, his voice trembling with emotion. She hummed in response, her heart swelling for him. "Hmmm?"

Not wanting to let go of her, Bucky called her name once again, his voice wavering with uncertainty. "y/n-..." She paused, her lips curving into a tender smile as she whispered in his ear, "Yes, Bucky?"

Bucky tightened his grip, his breath hitching in his throat as he buried his face in her shoulder. y/n gently rubbed his back, her touch soothing and comforting as she reassured him, "I'm here, sweetheart." The scent of her hair, the feel of her warmth against him—it all felt overwhelming. Emotions churned inside him like a tempest. Relief, guilt, love, and fear battled for dominance, leaving him raw and exposed.

She gently rubbed his back, her touch soothing and comforting as she reassured him, "Bucky, I'm not going anywhere.

Bucky's mind raced, images of the past few weeks flashing before his eyes. He remembered the coldness with which he'd treated her, the cruel words that had slipped from his lips, fueled by Jen's poison. He thought of the sleepless nights, the nightmares that had gripped him, and the aching void he'd felt every time he saw y/n’s hurt expression.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice muffled against her shoulder. "For everything. For not believing you. For pushing you away."

Reluctantly, she pulled away, but not before wiping the tears from Bucky's cheeks and fighting the urge to place a tender kiss on his forehead. As she looked into his eyes, she could see the depth of his love and the pain he had endured for her sake. And in that moment, she knew that she had found her home in his arms. Bucky took her hands in his own, his eyes closed as he pressed a kiss to her wounded wrists. "This will never happen again. Ever," he vowed, his voice filled with determination.

Moved by his words, y/n felt her heart flutter with emotion. She realized in that moment that she could never stay angry at him, no matter what had transpired between them. She understood now that they were both at fault, both victims of circumstance and misunderstanding.

With a surge of courage, she reached out and pulled Bucky into a kiss. Her lips met his in a slow, passionate embrace, pouring all of her love and forgiveness into the tender gesture. It was a moment of connection, of healing, of reaffirming their bond despite the trials they had faced.

The taste of Bucky's lips was like a soothing salve to her soul; it was intoxicating. It felt as if the world had fallen away, leaving only the two of them entwined in each other's arms. When they finally broke apart, Bucky whispered those three words that y/n had longed to hear, "I love you."

Her heart soared with joy, and she couldn't help but tease him, "Took you long enough." her teasing words met with a cheeky grin from Bucky. "I love you too, Bucky" she blinked slowly. As he whispered softly under his breath, "Come here," he pulled her back into the kiss, their lips meeting in a tender embrace that spoke volumes of their unspoken love. And in that moment, amidst the chaos and uncertainty of their world, they found solace in each other's arms, knowing that together, they could weather any storm.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: I just needed to let this out lmao. It's been stuck in my head for several weeks. Thank you for spending your time reading this crap... honestly. Love you so much 🤍

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #tfatws!bucky #bucky angst #bucky fluff

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wolverigrl · 2 months ago

Text

The Red Carpet Confession

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

A/N: Here's another try! Please let me know in the comments if you liked it and if you'd like to have a part two? :)

Summary: Hugh and y/n are rumored to be a couple and the two are figuring out their relationship.

The movie that the next parts are about is fictitious. It's a Marvel movie in which y/n plays one of the main roles as a Lady Deadpool variant.

Time period around 2015. Hugh's divorce fictitiously occurred here a year earlier. Hugh is 46, and y/n is in her late 20s.

Warnings: literally none, only some light fluff but nothing more!

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The energy at the movie premiere was electric—the buzz of the crowd, the flashing lights, and the excitement in the air. Hugh’s hand rested comfortably on the small of my back as we made our way down the red carpet. Every now and then, I found myself leaning into his touch, savoring the warmth and comfort that came so naturally between us. I glanced up at him, admiring the familiar crinkles around his eyes when he smiled and those laugh lines I adored so much.

We had come a long way since our first meeting at one of Ryan’s infamous dinner parties, where Blake introduced me to Hugh. Some months later I found out that my ex fiancé cheated on me. That night was a turning point for me. Blake, always the caring friend, had rallied Ryan and Hugh to come over with takeout and wine, determined to cheer me up. The four of us spent the evening in my living room, talking, laughing, and simply being there for each other.

Hugh had been a quiet comfort, sitting beside me as I cried, his arm around my shoulders. At one point, Ryan insisted on taking a selfie—our eyes a little red but smiles plastered on our faces. We posted it with the caption:

>>vancityreynolds: Friends who stick by you, no matter what ❤️<<

It was a moment that solidified our friendship, and from there, Hugh and I only grew closer.

Over time, our bond deepened. We started working out together, pushing each other to new limits. One day after an intense session, we snapped a photo—both of us sweaty, grinning, and flexing our biceps. I couldn’t resist adding a cheeky caption:

>>y/n instagram: Who needs a gym partner when you’ve got The Wolverine pushing you?<<

The post went viral, and the fans went wild. The comments were full of playful speculation, with people shipping us hard.

>>loganskittycat: You two should just get married already😩<<

One fan wrote, while another cheekily commented:

>>carllax03: Are we sure this is just a workout partnership? Because I’m seeing serious couple vibes here🔥<<

I remember laughing about it with Hugh, but the truth was, there was something between us—something neither of us had fully acknowledged.

Things got even more intense after Hugh's separation. I made sure to be there for him, offering whatever support I could. We spent a lot of time together during that period, just talking, laughing, and working out our frustrations at the gym. He was hurting, and I wanted to be the friend he could lean on. But every time we were together, those buried feelings would start to bubble up again, and it was getting harder and harder to ignore them.

There was that one time I posted a photo of us at the beach in Australia, where I had visited Hugh some days after he told me of his seperation. We were walking along the shore, deep in conversation about the breakup, his children, life and relationships, when the paparazzi caught us.

The next day, the headlines were full of speculation, but what really made the fans go crazy was Hugh's comment under a selfie of us at the beach:

>>thehughjackman: The best view in Australia, and I'm not talking about the ocean 🌊<<

The internet literally exploded with fans shipping us even harder than before.

>>catpool3000: Okay, if you two don't date, the universe is seriously broken😩<<

>>marvelboyx: He's flirting right in front of us! This is not a drill guys!<<

I found these fan comments so amusing and laughed it off, but the truth was, Hugh had become someone I couldn’t imagine my life without.

As we continued posing for photos on the red carpet, I couldn't help but remember the time we ran into a group of fans during another walk, this time back in New York.

Hugh and I had been grabbing coffee when a few fans approached us asking for photos. Hugh was, of course, his usual charming self, chatting with them, making them laugh, and posing for selfies.

One of the fans turned to me, a little shy, and said: "You're so awesome, y/n. You and Hugh are just the best! Your energy is amazing."

I smiled, touched by her words. "Thank you, sweetheart, that means a lot. Hugh makes it easy, though. He's got the charm down to an art."

Later, those fans posted the selfies on social media, gushing about how kind and down-to-earth we both were. The most comments were full of love and support, with many noting how natural Hugh and I seemed together, how much they 'shipped' us. It was sweet, even if it was a little overwhelming.

The speculation about us had been growing for months, especially after that interview with Jimmy Fallon, where Ryan and I were guests. We were there to promote the new movie, and naturally, the conversation turned to the camaraderie on set.

Jimmy Fallon, ever the curious host, leaned forward, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "So, y/n, what was it like joining such a big, well-established cast for the first time? Did you find it easy to get along with everyone?"

I nodded, smiling at the memory of my first days on set. "Honestly, I was a bit nervous at first. I mean, these guys are legends." I said, gesturing to Ryan.

"But they made me feel so welcome right from the start. It felt like I was joining a big. slightly dysfunctional, but very loving family."

Jimmy grinned. "And was there anyone you got particularly close to? I mean, everyone's shipping you with Hugh Jackman after those workout posts."

I chuckled, trying to keep my cool. "I mean, Hugh and I did spend a lot of time together. We bonded over our love for fitness, and he's just such an easy person to get along with. But really, the whole cast was amazing."

Fallon wasn't done yet. He leaned in closer, his tone playful. "But come on, Y/N, who was your favorite on set? Who was the person you looked forward to working with the most?"

Before I could answer, Ryan leaned over, placing his hand dramatically on his chest. "Oh, come on, Jimmy, we all know I'm her favorite," he said with a mock pout. Then, as if sharing a secret, he turned to him, cupping his hand around his mouth like he was about to whisper.

"But between us, it's the Aussie. It's always the Aussie."

The audience burst into laughter, and I playfully shoved Ryan's shoulder.

"You wish!" I said, unable to keep a straight face.

Ryan shot me a wink. "Hey, you don't have to deny it, y/n. We all know how much you love Hugh's, uhh workout routine."

I rolled my eyes, laughing along with the audience. But deep down, Ryan's joke hit a little too close to home. Because as much as I tried to brush it off, there was a growing part of me that knew he was right.

Now, as we walked the red carpet together, another interviewer caught up with us, asking the question we'd been dodging all night. "Hugh, y/n. The internet is buzzing with rumors about your relationship. Care to set the record straight?"

My heart skipped a beat. I glanced at Hugh, and he met my gaze with that familiar, playful glint in his eye. He leaned in, his voice low and teasing, as he spoke into the mic,

"We've certainly spent a lot of time, and we do get along really well."

Hugh and I exchanged a quick look, a silent understanding passing between us.

"We've had some pretty intense workouts together." I couldn't resist adding.

The double meaning wasn't lost on the interviewer or on Hugh, who shot me an amused look.

The interviewer pressed on. "So, is it safe to say you're more than just friends?"

Hugh grinned, his eyes twinkling with that familiar mischief. "I think we'll leave that up to your imagination."

The reporter laughed, realizing we weren't going to give a straight answer. "Fair enough. But you two certainly know how to keep us all guessing."

We thanked him shortly after, said our quick goodbyes, and moved along the red carpet to the next interview.

Another reporter greeted us, smiling, and started right with the conversation.

"Y/n? Hugh, you two have been quite the talk of the town with your workout posts. Can you tell us a little more about your training and diets while preparing for the movie?"

Hugh grinned and nudged me playfully. "Y/n here is a beast in the gym. She's got more discipline than anyone I know, and she doesn't let me slack off."

I laughed, nodding in agreement.

"Hugh's being modest. He's the one who keeps me on my toes. It's hard not to be motivated when you've got The Wolverine next to you, pushing you to do just one more set.

The interviewer chuckled before shifting the conversation to a more private topic.

"And y/n, with your costume being so form-fitting, what kind of uhh.. support did you have underneath?”

The question caught me off guard, and I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. Before I could respond, though, Hugh stepped in, his expression turning serious.

"I think that’s enough for this interview. Thank you for your time." he said, his tone polite but firm, effectively ending the conversation.

The reporter looked taken aback but quickly recovered, thanking us for our time before moving on. As we walked away, I felt a surge of gratitude for Hugh’s quick intervention. Without thinking, I placed my hand on his chest, leaning in close to whisper in his ear.

"Thank you."

He smiled down at me, his eyes softening as he replied.

"Anytime, darling. Anytime."

As the last flashes of the cameras faded and the final questions from reporters dwindled, Hugh and I finally stepped off the red carpet. The air was buzzing with the excitement of the night, but it was the thought of the after-show party that truly had me giddy. Hugh could sense my anticipation and chuckled, his arm still comfortably wrapped around my waist as we made our way to the venue.

Inside, the party was already in full swing. The room was filled with a dazzling array of celebrities, all mingling and celebrating the movie. My eyes widened as I spotted a few of my own favorite celebrities across the room, and I couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement. Hugh noticed my reaction and gave me a teasing smile.

"Someone’s excited." he said. His voice was warm with amusement.

I laughed, unable to contain my enthusiasm.

"Can you blame me? This is like a dream come true! There are so many people here I’ve admired for years."

Hugh shook his head, his eyes crinkling with that familiar, affectionate smile. "It’s adorable seeing you like this, y/n. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself."

We made our way further into the party, the music and chatter surrounding us. It didn’t take long before we spotted Ryan and Blake, who waved us over from a corner where they were chatting with a few other familiar faces.

As we joined them, Blake greeted us with a warm hug.

"You two were fantastic out there." she said, beaming. "How many relationship questions did you get?"

Ryan grinned, leaning in with a playful glint in his eyes. "Yeah, did they finally get you to confess?"

I exchanged a quick glance with Hugh before we both laughed. "Oh, you know, we kept them guessing." I said, shrugging lightly. "It’s more fun that way."

Hugh nodded, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "We might have let a few things slip here and there, just to keep them on their toes."

Blake raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "You two really enjoy this, don’t you?"

"Maybe a little." I admitted with a grin, feeling a little mischievous. "But in the end, it’s our story to tell—or not."

Ryan lifted his glass, grinning from ear to ear. "Well, here’s to keeping the world guessing, then. And to the best workout partners in the business."

We all clinked our glasses together, the sound of crystal ringing out as we toasted to the night and everything that had led us to this moment. The conversation flowed easily, with laughter and banter filling the space between us. As I stood there, surrounded by friends who had become like family, I felt a deep sense of contentment.

As the night wore on, we mingled with other guests, and I let my inner fangirl come out to play, much to Hugh’s amusement. He watched with a fond smile as I excitedly chatted with some of my favorite stars, his laughter echoing in my ears when I returned to his side, gushing about the conversations I’d just had.

Blake nudged him playfully, a knowing look in her eyes. "You’ve got your hands full with this one, Hugh."

Hugh just laughed, looking over to me, while I was talking to Ryan. "I wouldn’t have it any other way."

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Next part

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madlori · 1 month ago

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On Tommy and narrative threads

So some fans who are vehemently anti-Tommy frequently use the talking point that they need to have Buck confront Tommy about his past behavior while under Gerrard, or have him find out about it if he doesn't already know, and that he should break up with him about it. Or they need some kind of reckoning to happen with Hen and Chim in order to move forward.

I'm 95% sure neither of those things are going to happen, and here is why: the show considers that narrative thread to be closed.

It has run its course. It's done. It's been resolved. As fans and viewers - and as many of us are fic readers and writers - we always want to see things hashed out onscreen in exhaustive detail but that's not practically possible. The narrative sometimes has to signal that threads are resolved in other ways, in the way characters act towards each other and speak about each other.

Throughout the course of the three Begins episodes in which he appears, the writers clearly selected Tommy to represent the "firefighter who acted kinda jerky but got better through personal growth and friendship with new people" narrative. By the end of Bobby Begins Again, this narrative is more or less complete, as we've now seen Tommy act to support Hen and also be accepted into a friendly relationship with both her and Chim, not to mention Bobby. When he reappears in season 7, nobody acts like he's anything other than a friend, and Chim outright admires him.

This is the conclusion of this thread, as far as the show is concerned. Did he ever sit down with Hen and Chim and make some big speech or have some big discussion about how he's learned and changed? Probably not. Those kinds of direct conversations sometimes do happen in reality, but more often than not, you just spend years working with someone and your opinion of them shifts as all of you change. And remember, Hen and Chim worked with Tommy for years before Bobby even showed up.

And ask yourself this question: if Hen and Chim have both moved on, and have accepted whatever direct or implicit apology Tommy offered, how is it Buck's business to decide that no, that's not good enough, HE'S going to demand some kind of restitution on their behalf? That's patronizing as fuck. These are people with their own agency who don't need Buck to advocate for them and exact some kind of retroactive revenge for something they're not even mad about anymore. Would he be upset that Tommy ever made off-color remarks, or was less than welcoming to people who are now his friends? Maybe. Is he upset that Eddie nearly killed a man? Is he filled with moral outrage and disappointment that Hen cheated on her wife? Chim physically assaulted him, and so did Bobby. Is he still holding that against them? Is he upset NOW that nobody's speaking up on HIS behalf when Gerrard targets him? Buck's an adult. He knows that people frequently look back on their past behavior and cringe at what jerks they were, himself included.

Tommy has several times alluded to being ashamed of his past actions. He knows the score. The message we're meant to take from those comments is that he's taken steps to not be that guy anymore. Need he flagellate himself forever? Does this need to cost him and Buck a relationship they both value? It can't have been easy to come from a terrible father, go into the army, then into the LAFD with a terrible captain, and then to meet people who challenged your behavior and made you want to be a better person. The fact that he became a better person is something he should be admired for, not punished.

#9-1-1 #bucktommy #tommy kinard #911 abc #911 discourse #9-1-1 discourse

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myfictionaldreams · 7 months ago

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Talk To Me // James Potter x Fem!Reader

Part 1 // Part 2

Summary: It had been three weeks since you'd spoken to James. Three long weeks since emotions were subtly revealed, you weren't sure how long you could go without seeing him. However, will a Quidditch accident draw you both back together or push each other apart?

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, ANGST (!), depression, arguing, injury/blood, ex-friends w/benefits to lovers, kinda love triangle, mutual pining, kissing, confrontation, fingering, praise kink, happy ending

Words: 5.3k

Tagslist: @imobsessedwitholiviarodrigo, @kezibear, @liv2post, @imdoingbetternow, @omwtohellttyl, @sheblogs, @keemsweems, @mora-miserium, @marmie-noir

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

During your second year at Hogwarts, James had accidentally dyed your hair bright green, and you'd given him the silent treatment for a shocking 6 hours before he found you in the corridor, his hair a matching shade of green. The two of you laughed about it until tears were streaming down your cheeks. The had been the longest the two of you had ever gone without talking or being mad at the other.

Until now.

Three weeks ago, you and James had a potentially friendship-ending argument. It all started weeks before; James had finally secured a date with his long-term crush, Lily, but, in his haste to make sure he was perfect for the date, he admitted to you that he'd never kissed another person. Being the good friend that you were, you offered to teach him.

This was your first mistake. Blurring the lines between friendship and physical relief broke down the barriers around your heart, and as the lessons continued, you found James on your mind, filling your stomach with butterflies. It all came to an end, however, after you both admitted feeling jealous of the other but couldn't take that step to secure any form of relationship other than friendship due to Lily, so after an emotional quickie in the spare room at the Hog's Head, you decided to walk away altogether.

Three weeks didn't seem like much time at all in the grand scheme of things. But to you, it felt like a lifetime. A lifetime of faking smiles to your other friends, ignoring questioning stares and conversations about why you and James weren't talking to one another. Pretending that everything was okay was slowly and intricately destroying your soul. You were slowly running out of shadows and quiet corners to cry when the others weren't looking.

It had been so long now that there was even a silent routine between you and James. He'd rush to breakfast in the morning, eat and leave before you slowly trudged your way there. During classes, you'd be at the front and he at the back, running away before you had even collected your bag to leave. Then there was the downtime, usually the Shrieking Shack or the Common Room, where you'd relax and unwind, but now the library had a special place in your heart or your bed.

Many whispers had spread about why the two of you had suddenly stopped being the inseparable force you once were. Even teachers had questioned you as to why you were distancing yourself from Potter. Every time it was discussed, a shrug of your shoulders and an 'it's none of your business later', the conversations were dropped.

Every second of every day, you would plaster a fake smile onto your face and pretend everything was okay, but in reality, you were cursing yourself for ever letting your emotions dictate your friendship. You missed James so much that it felt like you'd lost your shadow, like something you had become so used to being at your side that the moment it wasn't there anymore, you never realised how lonely life could be.

Then, of course, there was Lily, who tried her utmost to support you and vigorously questioned James at every opportunity about why he had hurt you. Even after insisting that it wasn't the case (it was, but she didn't need to know the specifics), she still couldn't comprehend why the two of you had suddenly stopped talking.

You were worried that it was beginning to affect the relationship that had been building between James and Lily, which also was why the breakdown between you and James had occurred. However, Lily insisted that everything was fine between the two of them.

You'd never been in love before; you were pretty damn sure that what you were feeling was close to it because you were just about ready to give it all up and apologise to James just to have him back in your life. Even if that meant having to watch his relationship with Lily blossom into more, you just wanted him back in your life. However, you still need to work up the courage to do this.

They say that time is the greatest healer, but right now, time is kicking your ass and making everything feel worse. Precisely as the weekends rolled around. Where did you go? Where could you hide?

"Why don't you come along to the match later?" Lily urged from where she had perched at the edge of her bed opposite yours.

You were facing her from where you lay on your bed, spooning your pillow and ignoring the rest of the world outside of the dormitory doors. "Who's playing?" you asked in a thickly croaky voice from its lack of use.

Lily paused for a second, knowing the answer probably wasn't what you wanted to hear as she confirmed, "Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff".

"No thanks", you say tiredly, closing your eyes and deciding that you could sleep all weekend instead.

Lily's bed creaked as she moved to sit beside you instead, pulling the pillow from your grip and gently pushing against your shoulder so you shuffled backwards, making room for her to lie beside you.

"Well, if you aren't coming because of a certain Marauder, maybe it's better that he'll be playing. At least you won't have to talk to him or stand in the crowd with him during the match and after, he'll be celebrating with the others anyway".

Thinking it over, you already knew from the determination in Lily's forest green eyes that she wasn't going to back down from this conversation until you had opted to go, so with a lazy shrug of your shoulders, you agreed to join, "But only if I can skip the after party".

Lily sighs, already springing out of bed, "Thank Merlin for that. I was worried I'd have to jinx you to get you out of this bed. No offence, love, but moping around and feeling sorry for yourself doesn't suit you. I want my bad bitch friend back, the one who doesn't care what others think as long as she's having a good time. That's all that matters".

Her encouraging words bring a smile to your face as you sit up with a bit more enthusiasm. "You're right; we can still have fun, can't we?"

"That's the spirit!" Lily cheers as she begins to layer her body for the crisp, cool weather outside. However, as she wrapped the red scarf around her neck, she paused and looked at you sceptically. "I don't support. Can I convince you to talk to me about what's going on? I've hardly seen James in weeks, so I can't get any information from him. I've even tried to get the information from Sirius, but he's just as confused as everyone else. It seems out of nowhere for you both to be giving each other the silent treatment."

Attempting to keep your face neutral at hearing that Lily and James' potential relationship was being affected was more complicated than you'd thought. Guilt panged in your stomach, filling it with an unnatural heaviness as you realised that a speck of hope had filled your heart at this news. However, it all diminished as you realised that if anything had happened between you and James, it would have done so much by now. He had made no effort to talk to you, and the same depressive cycle was still rotating around.

Lily sighs, having watched the emotions spiral across your face. Reaching over to warmly hold your hand, she insisted, "Listen, you don't have to tell me what's happened, but I need you to know that whatever it is, you know I'm always going to be your friend, and I don't want you to feel alone either so whenever you're ready. I'm here for you".

Even though her words were comforting, they only made you feel worse and reminded you of just how bad of a friend you were. There was no way you could tell her you'd been seeing James, even if it had been disguised as teaching and that he and Lily weren't officially dating yet; it still felt like a betrayal.

Squeezing her hand back and not being able to find the words to say, Lily filled the silence with her sarcastic words. "Right anyway, up you get and go and shower. You're starting to smell as bad as the boys, and we'll head to the pitch".

You tearfully laugh at her words and clamber out of bed.

With your arm linked with hers, it was refreshing to be outside for once, but the nerves remained regardless, even if you had plastered a fake smile onto your face and began to cheer with the rest of the crowd without a care in the world. It was simple to watch Quidditch whilst trying not to look for James; you'd resorted to starting at the goals on either end and waiting for the points to add up.

About half an hour into the game, a boisterous shout came from Frank Longbottom behind you as he bellowed, "Come on, Potter, what's taking you so long!"

Only then did you notice he'd flown so close to the crowd that you looked to your right and saw James hovering on his broom only a few meters away, his brows furrowed in concentration as he searched from the golden snitch.

Without missing a beat, he lifted his middle finger and pointed it toward Frank, a smile spreading across his handsome face that soon faltered as he followed the direction of the finger, and his eyes solemnly turned to you, noticing your presence for the first time.

The hand lowered as you both seemed to be caught in a breathless staring content, not wanting to look after. It had been the closest you'd been to one another in three weeks. The want, the need, the ache of missing him returned full force, and even though you wanted to look away, you couldn't. It was like an elastic band was tied between the two of you, not allowing the other to tug or stretch away.

It was only as a blur of darkness appeared over James' shoulder that a different sort of urgency overcame you as you screamed his name in warning. "JAMES!" however, there was no time to warn him adequately as the impending bludger collided with the side of his head, knocking him unconscious, and his body slipped from the broom, hitting the sides of the stands before tumbling to the ground.

You moved on instinct, pushing past the bodies surrounding you at the moment of collision, not even waiting to see if his fall was a cushion or caring that students couldn't go onto the pitch mid-game. You frantically sprinted down the stairs, ignoring the pain flaring in your lungs and calves from the sudden exhaustive exercise and then you were on the grass.

It felt as if your heart was going to stop beating when you saw James lying unmoving on the pitch; you weren't even aware that you were screaming and pleading his name as you ran to his side just as Sirius ungracefully landed on James' opposite side.

The two of you rolled him onto his face, and as you released an almighty sob, Sirius mumbled, "Holy Shit", as he pried the smashed glasses from his face, carefully trying to make sure no further glass had embedded into his face.

There was so much red on his head and face, but also down his arm and side where he'd collided with the stand, ripping the clothes and scraping the skin beneath.

Without thinking, you pressed your hand to the side of his face, ignoring the warm wetness that flowed from his injuries, staining your fingers as you pleaded, "James, please wake up. Can you hear me?"

"There's so much blood", Sirius whispered in shock as he began to try and wave his wand over the injuries to try and stem the bleeding.

"James, I really need you to wake up! Please, it's me, I'm here – I'm sorry," it was your turn to whisper as you leaned over his body, your face now over his, the tears dripping down your cheeks falling down onto his, causing little rivering paths in the blood on his face.

Thankfully, hope came in the sign of a deep groan from the man beneath you, his eyelids fluttering as they fought to open. "James, can you hear me? Please open your eyes, I need to know you're okay".

James opened his eyes, the hazel having never appeared so bright before even if they were unfocused, and he blinked in confusion. "You're here?" he asked, trying to raise his injured arm, but all it did was twitch awkwardly beside Sirius, so you quickly grabbed the other hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

"Yes, I'm here, it's me. Try not to talk; I need you to save your energy and stay awake. Everything will be okay".

"You're really here? With me?" James asked, still staring but not really seeing anything.

"Yes, I'm here. So is Sirius; you scared us, you know that, right?" you tried to joke, but it just came out sounding desperate.

"I missed you", he drawled tiredly, his words becoming slurred as his eyes dropped, so you gently patted his wet cheek.

"Hey, please don't fall asleep; you've had a big knock to your head. I need you to stay awake. I need you to listen when I say I've missed you too".

James smiles as his eyes look like they're searching over your face, but you know it is probably a blur without his glasses. "Love…" then his eyes closed and didn't open again.

You and Sirius stayed in silence for a breath. You weren't sure of his following words, whether it was just a pet name or something more, but as Lily and the other Gryffindors, as well as the teachers, finally arrived to help, you tried not to overthink it as you took plenty of steps back to allow him the help he needed.

However, a firm hand around your upper arm had you pulled away out of earshot of the others as Sirius furiously looked down at you, "What the fuck happened between you two?"

You couldn't think straight, only answering him with a shake of your head as you stared at the redness beginning to dry on your hands. Sirius took a deep breath, trying to calm his manner before speaking again. "Whatever it is, it shouldn't have taken him to look like this for you to talk to him or him to talk to you. I hate seeing my friends like this; the world is dark, and you can't let these emotions get in the way. Whatever the emotions are. I need you both to be okay".

James was carried to the hospital wing just as Hufflepuff caught the snitch and won the game. You'd remained a step behind the rest of the group of teammates and friends, feeling numb and broken as everyone kept talking about the brutal fall James had experienced. Once in the hospital wing, everyone was escorted away by Madam Ppomfrey, who declared that she couldn't tend to her patient with the entirety of Gryffindor watching over her shoulder, which gave you ample opportunity to go to the dormitory and sit in the shower until your fingers had pruned from the amount of time spent in the water.

Gryffindor Tower was remarkably quiet that evening, most deciding to have an early night in. You, on the other hand, were wide awake, stuck between whether you should visit him or not, but in the end, as the sun had set, you realised there was no way you could sleep without making sure he was okay first.

Playing with the edges of your sleeve as you approached his bed, you halted as you heard a soft feminine voice, then noticed that Lily was next to James, holding his hand, and you cursed yourself. Of course, she would be here; why wouldn't she?

Lily had heard your footsteps and turned her head, standing when she saw you'd joined before looking down at James, who hadn't blinked once since he saw you enter the room; he now had glasses on and bandages crossed over his right arm and bare chest. A bandage also wrapped around his head, half covering his hair, but the scratches and cuts still peaked from beneath and travelled down his cheek from where his glasses had cut his skin.

As you stepped further into the room, you could sense something in the atmosphere but couldn't quite name the feeling. Lily glanced at James, who finally looked away from you to her. They shared a smile that had you turning away.

"I hope you're feeling better soon, Potter. And don't forget about next week", she reminded lightheartedly, and your chest tightened. "I'll leave you two to talk".

Finally looking away from the crack on the floor, you saw that Lily was giving you a bright smile, her eyes twinkling as she stopped next to you, her fingers gripping onto yours as she leaned close to whisper, "We have lots to talk about, but you're still my best, don't forget that".

Confused by her words, you watched her leave before turning back to James. There had never been a moment you had ever felt awkward whilst in the presence of James, but as you stood there playing with the edges of your sleeves, you were at a complete loss for words.

"Madam Pomfrey said there was nothing she could do; I'm stuck like this" James finally broke the tension with an awkward shrug of his shoulders, his eyes wide and full of disdain.

Your breath caught in your throat, "Nothing she could do? Wha-What for? Is it your head? Your arm?" you ask whilst taking an unsteady step towards him, your heart pounding so loudly in your chest you were sure he could hear.

James shook his head, a glimpse of a smile beginning to turn at the corner of his lips, "She said there was nothing she could do for my handsomeness, that I was going to be stuck with this pretty face for the rest of my life. She's just as gutted as I am", he finished with a shit-eating grin, showing his straight teeth.

Breathing heavily out of your nose, you drop your head to hide your smile, "You're such an idiot", you say lightheartedly.

"I know", he responded in a more serious tone. "A big fucking stupid idiot who misses his best friend".

"I've missed you too", you say, rushing to his side, sitting close to his bandaged arm, taking his hand delicately and relaxing as his thumb brushed against the back of your knuckles.

"I'm sorry", you both speak simultaneously and then lightly chuckle. You admire your joined hands, hating the way that your heart feels that it looks so right to be holding his hand. When had you become so infatuated with him?

"This entire situation had become such a mess", you admitted, still not looking him in the eyes.

"I know," he agreed solemnly, still squeezing your hand. Finally, your eyes flick up to his, and you release a slow breath, seeing his eyes are focused and entirely on you, the caramel flecks in his eyes shining brighter than ever. James tried to sit up further in the bed, attempting to hide a wince that you noticed immediately before collapsing back into the pillow and looking at you sadly. "Tell me how to fix things between us", he implored. "I can't keep going without you there every day".

"I don't know", you admit whilst watching his glasses slip down the bridge of his nose and without thinking, you reach forward to push them back to normal; however, your fingers linger in the air before settling on cupping his cheek, brushing against the side that wasn't injured.

James sighed, closing his eyes to lean into the touch, but then his following words had dread stiffening your spine, the sensation of ice being poured over you as he admitted, "I told Lily everything".

You're standing and moving away before you can even gasp the word, "What?!"

James looked at you in alarm, trying to sit up again and failing, swearing up his breath as he grabbed his side. Seeing him in pain, you rush back to his side, gently push him back into the bed and tell him to stop moving. Only when he finally stopped breathing hard and had drank the green potion that was on his bedside table for pain relief did you confirm with him, "When you say you told her, how much exactly?"

"Everything. I had to. It was eating me up and getting between us; I couldn't let it keep going on; I thought I was going insane with guilt".

"What did she say?" you asked tentatively.

"Honestly? She suspected something was going on, but not quite what was actually happening. Well, to be truthful, she found it funny that you'd been teaching me all these sex things to potentially use on her and couldn't comprehend that the popular James Potter hadn't kissed anyone before, let alone anything else" You rolled your eyes at his words but remained silent, waiting to hear more. "I've been pushing her away since that first date, especially over the last three weeks. This gave her something to be suspicious of, I'd been after her for years, and the moment there was a chance, I could hardly talk to her. I think my mind and heart was preoccupied".

The sincerity in his eyes had you leaning closer, taking his hand once more. "What happens now, then? Does she hate us?"

"No, I don't think so. Evans is such a bloody good friend. She congratulated me on admitting how I felt for you before slapping me on my good arm for being an idiot and letting this silent treatment go on for so long".

You couldn't help but giggle at your friend's fiery reaction, but then his words dawned on you. "And how do you feel?"

His gaze softened as his eyes flicked from your eyes to your lips. "I need to tell you something", he finally admitted, and your first thoughts were the one word he mumbled whilst half unconscious on the quidditch pitch.

"Don't say something you're going to regret, Potter".

"I'd never regret it. I've never done anything like this before, but I know I can't ever not have you in my life. These last three weeks have been, frankly, fucking shit. I haven't been able to sleep, I can't concentrate in class or during quidditch practice, I feel like I'm missing a part of me".

"That's how I've felt too", you admitted hopefully, leaning closer. James released a slow breath, hearing that you felt similar to how he had.

"I want you to be mine", he desperately asked before closing his eyes and shaking his head like he hadn't meant to say that but couldn't help himself. "It's just that it's probably too soon, I mean, obviously, with Lily, people might get confused- I don't want- I mean, I do want, I-".

You'd never before seen James stumble over his words. There was one thing that he was and that was confident and somewhat arrogant so to see him struggling to form the correct sentence had the anxiety melting away and your face leaning forwards until your lips softly pressed together. His mumbling stopped instantly as he relaxed into the kiss, taking a second to simply close his eyes and be in the moment.

The restraint he held smashed into a thousand pieces, however, as his hand came up to cradle your cheek, pulling you even closer, his lips pressing with more urgency and needy as you whimpered into the caress. Your hands raised to wrap around his neck, being careful of his bandages as you moved.

As you both kissed, you couldn't help but think back to all those weeks ago when James was experiencing his first kiss with you, and now you were the one clinging to him, breathless and dizzy with need.

His soft lips moved and opened, deepening the kiss further but then pulled back an inch so that he could finally say against your mouth, "I'm so fucking in love with you". You pressed your body and lips firmly against his, burning with emotion and desire as you desperately pleaded the words back to him in between kisses.

You needed him, body, mind and soul. You were gripping onto the patch of unbandaged hair like it was your lifeline, just as he was doing to your face with his left hand. Then it all came crashing down as a stern cough came from the bottom of the bed.

You both pulled away from one another so swiftly that you tripped over your own feet and nearly caused his bedside table to crash over. Still, you quickly rectified your mistake just as James covered his lap with the pillow behind his head, hiding the apparent bulge that had hardened as Madam Pomfrey looked between the two of you with her lips pursed.

"Well, it seems you're recovering quite well, doesn't it, Mr Potter?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

James coughed awkwardly and then grinned cheekily, shrugging his good shoulder, "Well, I didn't injure my mouth now, did I?"

You glared at his cocky reaction, mortified that you'd just been caught making out by a teacher. "Sorry, Madam Pomfrey, I was just leaving", you answered whilst still staring daggers at James, who frowned at your words.

"No, you weren't. Actually, she's here to help me apply that salve you gave me for the cuts" he nodded toward the clear tub next to his bed. "I'm sure there are plenty of other things you'd rather be doing than rubbing my back, Madam Pomfrey".

You could have screamed at James' blatant sass. The Matron looked towards the ceiling of the hospital wing and sighed, "I don't get paid enough to deal with your sass, Mr Potter. You both have 15 minutes and then the hospital wing is closed to all visitors. Do I make myself understood?" When you both nodded eagerly, she finally began to move away. She stopped, looking pointedly at James, who looked at her with big, innocent eyes. "Might I remind you, Mr Potter, that any extracurricular activities will tear open the wounds I have just closed, and I have an excellent hearing".

Your face burned with embarrassment, but James took it in his stride, pretending to look innocent, "I don't know what you mean, Madam Pomfrey? I'm sure I won't tear any stitches with hand holding".

The Matron rolled her eyes before walking off to her office at the door at the end of the room. Once alone again, you couldn't help but curse at James, who laughed with his head tipped back, removing the pillow to see the bulge still evidently there. "James, you bloody idiot! That was mortifying!"

Sitting on the side of the bed, you held his uninjured hand in one of yours and then reached for the clear tub of salve in the other. "So how do I apply this? Does it need to go everywhere?" you asked curiously.

However, James didn't answer and removed his hand from yours. Instead, he moved it to the waistband of your jeans, especially to the button, and quickly undid it with a simple flick of his fingers. You gripped said fingers tightly, nearly dropping the tub and looking at him sharply. "James, what the fuck are you doing? Did you not just hear her? Your wounds could open again, and might I remind you that she's just at the end of the fucking hall!" you whispered at the end of the sentence harshly as he continued to look at you nonchalantly.

"You'll just have to be quiet then," he shrugged, trying to return his fingers to the zipper of your jeans, but you halted his movements again.

"James, no! I'm not having you become more injured!" you insisted.

James rolled his eyes. "This hand isn't injured, is it? All you need to do is sit on my fingers; it's not exertive, right?"

Heat flushed through your entire body at his words as you bit your lip, subtly attempting to cross your legs to squeeze your thighs together. "We- We still can't!"

"Why not?" he asked, and you couldn't quite answer as all you could think about was his fingers inside of you. When you didn't say anything, he continued with his voice lowered, "I've been craving to touch your body for three long weeks; I thought I'd lost you forever. I've finally got you back, and I know we have lots to talk about, but right now, all I can think about is your beautiful cunt and my fingers getting to touch it. My team lost their first game of Quidditch since I joined, I'm sore and fragile, are you really going to say no right now?" he blinked rapidly in a pleading manner with his best puppy dog eyes impression.

You giggled under your breath before releasing a slow breath, looking him deeply in the eyes before moving a little closer, uncrossing your legs and letting go of his hand.

"Thank Merlin", he pleaded thankfully as his finger moved back to the waistband of your jeans. "Remember to stay nice and quiet for me, Sweetheart, okay? Once I'm out of here, we can talk properly, but in the meantime, I just need to touch you".

You couldn't talk anyway as your thoughts were wholly overtaken with lust as you felt and watched his fingers touch the bare skin of your tummy as he pushed his left hand further beneath your jeans and then into your underwear. Your breath hitched as you unconsciously spread your legs whilst holding onto his forearm as the tips of his fingers grazed your labia.

Teasing beneath, he sucked in his own breath before muttering, "Already so wet for me. Has she missed me?"

"Yes", you whispered, looking up into his face, noticing a natural blush now coloured his cheeks as he licked his lips. Biting the inside of your cheek to remain quiet, your hips rocked forward as his middle finger finally stroked your clit, causing it to throb and your pussy to clench with need. Circling it slowly, he spread your juices over the sensitive nub before lowering two fingers to ease into your eagerly awaiting hole.

Your eyebrows furrowed from the subtle stretch of taking his two fingers past the first and second knuckle before stopping and allowing your body to accustom to the sensation. "I've missed this", he admitted as he began to rock his fingers in and out, hardly even blinking with how he watched your emotions flicker across your face.

You were concentrating so hard on trying not to make a noise that you hadn't realised how firmly you were holding onto James' forearm, but he never complained.

In and out, the fingers moved, slowly inching deeper until nearly the entire digits were consumed in your cunt, and the heel of his palm was pressed firmly against your swollen clit. "There she is", James praised as he began to curl his fingers whilst rubbing his palm against your bundle of nerves, causing your eyes to widen and mouth to drop open in silent pleasure.

Quickly covering your mouth with your hand, you tried to cover your soft gasps as you continued to look into James' hungry eyes. The only noise that could be heard was the squelch of your wetness and the rapid breathing from James.

A noise at the end of the hall had you both pausing as a candle flicked from movement outside of the hospital wing. The door was right there; anyone could walk in, including Madam Pomfrey and yet James didn't stop; he was a feral man in need of feeling you cum; he wasn't even sure he'd stop if you were both caught.

Your body was beginning to tremble with how good his hand felt, and you wished you could repay the favour, even glancing over to the noticeably throbbing bulge beneath the thing sheet, but then he shook his head.

"Not tonight. Let me just feel you. Come on, Sweetheart, I know you're holding back. I want you to cum on my fingers; you can do it", he pleaded, his digits continuing to curl right into that beautiful spot that had the tightness in your abdomen coiling until you were on the very edge of bliss.

Your thighs clamped around his hand as you held your breath, dropping your hand to grip the blanket across his lap, leaning your forehead against his as you sweetly moaned, "James", ever so quietly under your breath.

"Fuck yes, Sweetheart, that's a good girl, taking my fingers so well", James praised as you came all over his fingers, soaking his hand and your panties further. He didn't stop the press of his palm or the curl of his fingers until you were sated, half slumped against his chest, completely relaxed.

Carefully he pulled his hand from your underwear and began to greedily suck the juices that soaked his hand. Watching him obscenely roll his eyes back and moan at the taste, you couldn't deny the intense arousal that pulsed in your cunt once more, but instead o acting on these emotions, you hastily had to button up your jeans as Madam Pomfrey's office door opened.

Standing on unsteady legs, you tried to ignore the MAtron as she approached. Leaning forward, you kissed James quickly on the lips. "I'll come and visit you in the morning", you say in a rush, not being able to look Madam Pomfrey in the eye as you pass her, trying to walk as normally as possible.

"I'll be counting down the seconds until you're here", James shouted after you with a deep chuckle. Just as you exited the hospital wing, you could hear James ask the healer, "Looks like I do need your help after all with the salve. Unfortunately, we both got so lost in each other's eyes we simply forgot".

You tried not to release the laugh until, further down the corridor yo,u heard the heavy sigh of Pomfrey in response.

Things were sure to be stranger for a while, and now alone once more, you realised that you needed to go and speak to Lily about everything. At least you had James back and hoped that what he had said was true and that Lily would understand.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter fic #james potter smut #hp smut #hp fic #hp #harry potter #mine*

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steventhusiast · 1 year ago

Text

modern au where eddie and robin are roommates and steve is italian <3

eddie has always known that his roommate robin is in the US for college, but grew up in and is from italy. sure, sometimes he forgets, because she somehow has a near-perfect american accent and also speaks two other languages, but he’s always known.

and for the past year and a bit, he’s known how much robin wants her best friend stevie to come visit. she talks about them all the time, and ever since she and eddie moved out of the dorms and into an apartment together for their next year of university a month ago, he’s known stevie is going to come and visit.

he just kind of forgot the exact day stevie would be arriving.

so when he, clad in nothing but his garfield pyjama pants and a metallica t-shirt that’s falling apart, walks into the kitchen one morning and sees someone he doesn’t know at the kitchen counter fiddling with their instant coffee machine, he almost shits himself.

luckily, he doesn’t, because he remembers in that split second that stevie was due to arrive last night. but he still flinches pretty hard at the fright and grabs for the nearest grabbable thing, which turns out to be the doorframe. somehow, he makes a noise loud enough to get the mystery person’s attention, and they turn around.

holy shit. eddie did not know stevie is hot. or that stevie’s actually a guy. he kind of just assumed, with the nickname and all? but the man standing there looks like he could’ve been carved by the gods eddie doesn’t believe in, and- eddie realises he’s been staring at the guy for a few seconds now, and decides to talk like a normal human being. he first adjusts his position so he’s no longer holding onto the archway of the kitchen for support, and smiles at the guy.

“hi, you must be stevie?” he offers, and stevie takes a few seconds to process his words before nodding with a smile.

“my name is steve. robbie just is… hm, silly?”

eddie blinks a couple times, because steve has an accent. a thick one. he should’ve expected that, because- hello? they’re both literally from italy. but it catches him off guard, and adds to steve’s hot factor. why didn’t robin warn him about this.

“yeah, robin is very silly.” he agrees with a chuckle, and then realises steve might not know him, “i’m eddie. robin’s roommate. you probably knew that already though, so now i probably look like an idiot. well- more of an idiot than i already do in these clothes…”

he lets his words trail off as he realises steve is frowning at him in subtle confusion. he’s picked up robin’s rambling-when-nervous habit over their friendship, and hot guys tend to make him pretty nervous. but then he realises maybe steve isn’t as fluent in english as robin is, and even if he is eddie’s a fast talker that doesn’t always pronounce things fully.

“i am sorry,” steve looks embarrassed, “my english is not as good as robin.”

eddie feels so guilty at the pink that’s made itself known on steve’s cheeks, and shakes his head immediately.

“no! you don’t need to be sorry. i just talk a lot when i’m nervous.” he confesses. why did he say that? now steve knows he’s nervous. or does he? maybe he didn’t catch his full sentence.

steve raises one eyebrow at eddie though, and one side of his mouth quirks up into a smile as he turns around to keep trying to make himself a cup of coffee.

“i am making you nervous? why?” steve asks, his back still turned. now eddie’s the one with red cheeks. dammit.

“it’s because eddie here thinks you’re hot, stevie.”

eddie’s flinch at robin’s magical appearance behind him is somehow more spectacular than earlier, and he clutches dramatically at his heart and spins around to glare at robin.

“robin! what the fuck, man!” he yelps when he realises what she’s said. but robin isn’t listening, she’s too busy speaking to steve in italian about who knows what.

probably about how she knows all eddie’s tells for when he finds a guy attractive and how she knows eddie’s type and steve checks every single box. or, eddie squints at the pair as robin tsks at steve and takes over manning the coffee machine, maybe robin’s just telling steve how to make a coffee with the machine?

“you think i am…” steve starts as he spins around to look at eddie, and seems to be searching for a word for a few moments, “attractive?”

eddie’s eyes widen, and then he sighs and fixes a glare on robin. robin just shrugs and makes a very insincere ‘oopsie’ expression, and eddie is about to start denying like his life depends on it, but he looks back at steve.

and steve has that blush back on his face, and a tiny smile, and he’s looking eddie up and down even in his ridiculous outfit.

“um, yes.” eddie practically squeaks, not used to having someone’s eyes on him like this.

steve says something to robin in italian that sounds like it ends with a question mark, and robin rolls her eyes.

“steve wants me to translate a pick up line he wants to use on you, but i literally refuse to do that. google translate is free.”

and with that, she leaves the kitchen.

#steddie #italian steve harrington #steddie drabble #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #st #mywriting #robin buckley #steve is so smooth in italian and so not smooth in english #he just lacks confidence #eddie doesnt believe him #thank you to the person who explained how tumblr tagging system works <3

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fastandcarlos · 3 months ago

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: ̗̀➛ IMAGINE

: ̗̀➛ Cuddles Are Home

as max arrives home after a busy day, he's keen to try something new, however it doesn't quite work out as well as he imagined

: ̗̀➛ Sweet Voice

the sobs of your daughter could be heard for miles, but there's one voice that always seems to know the way to soothe her

: ̗̀➛ The Biggest Tease

you're all for supporting max's career, but isn't a sex ban just a step too far?

: ̗̀➛ Restless Baby

1.1k words of dad and husband max trying to fix the angsty mess that he’s made

: ̗̀➛ Padel Queen

when max suggests couples padel with george and carmen, he worries about how good you'll be, little does he know though what a master of padel you are

: ̗̀➛ Never An Interruption

you’re all ready to celebrate max’s win with him, only when you find someone already there to celebrate, you begin to question the role you truly play in max’s life

: ̗̀➛ The Perfect Wake Up

reunited at last, the two of you savour the feeling of finally being back with each other again

: ̗̀➛ Sleepless Nights

as your daughter cries out yet again, you can’t help but feel like the problem, especially when max swoops in and saves the day again

: ̗̀➛Baby Sibling

whilst all his friends are having siblings, your son is keen for the two of you to start thinking about when he can have one too

: ̗̀➛ Bump Cuddles

watching you pregnant is a dream for max, especially with your bump there on offer for him to always snuggle up to

: ̗̀➛ Sleepless Nights

when max leaves you and your daughter to stream for the night, only one of you is happy to let max go and play for a while

: ̗̀➛ Helping Hand

what was supposed to be a nice dinner for the two of you is ended with fans waiting around. with your nerves growing, max is there to protect you

: ̗̀➛ My Little Graduate

you’re all prepared to graduate with your family by your side, and an unexpected extra sneaking into the crowd

: ̗̀➛ Home For The Summer

travelling around the world with max is one of your favourite things to do, however none of it compares to home. even though you can’t afford to make it there, someone else might just

: ̗̀➛ Clingy

how does it feel to have the clingiest partner in the world? well, max verstappen can tell you

: ̗̀➛ All Your Little Things

imagine being able to date the perfect gentleman, well that’s exactly what you get being the one in a relationship with max

: ̗̀➛ She's In Labour, Now?

it wasn’t supposed to happen yet, especially with max preparing for a race…

: ̗̀➛ SMAU

: ̗̀➛ Family Affair

it’s a family affair at the singapore grand prix as the entire verstappen family come to cheer max on

: ̗̀➛ Missing Piece

fans are beginning to notice your absence around the paddock, little do they know the amazing reason you’re finding yourself hiding away

: ̗̀➛ Hometown Glory

it all leads up to the race at zandevoort, and we all know how it ends

: ̗̀➛ Life With The Verstappen Family

a glimpse into the life of the verstappen family and your two little ones who are always causing chaos

: ̗̀➛ A Decade Of Love

as you and max celebrate ten years together, take a look at a snapshot of your social media for each one of those years

: ̗̀➛ Summer Break

with three weeks off to enjoy yourselves, you and max make the most of it adventuring together

: ̗̀➛ "Hey Stranger!"

with your conflicting schedules, match day always clashes with race day. it means it’s been a while since you’ve seen max, until you pull a few strings 🥺

: ̗̀➛ Baby Perez Is Mine

after getting to know your brother’s team mate max, you soon find that it’s more than just a friendship that’s struck between the two of you

: ̗̀➛ TEXTS

: ̗̀➛ Pregnant Wife Texts

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its-avalon-08 · 3 months ago

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why did you leave me (cl16)

part1 !

multipart story! find masterlist here

summary : charles and y/n have always been best friends. but y/n has been in love with him forever. when charles starts dating a new girl, out of respect y/n distances herself. but how much is too much?

✦ pairing - charles leclerc x female reader

Y/N and Charles had been inseparable since childhood. They met on the first day of school, when Charles, a shy boy with striking green eyes, had been sitting alone during lunch. Y/N, with her boundless energy and warm smile, had plopped down beside him and declared they were going to be best friends. And they were.

Over the years, they shared countless memories. They would often sneak out of their houses at night to sit by the waterfront, talking about their dreams and fears. Charles, who loved racing, would talk endlessly about becoming a Formula 1 driver, and Y/N, who adored his passion, would listen intently, offering unwavering support.

One evening, they were at their favorite spot by the water. The sun was setting, casting a golden hue over everything. Y/N watched Charles as he animatedly discussed his latest race, his eyes sparkling with excitement. She loved how passionate he was, how he never gave up, even when things got tough. It was in moments like these that she felt her heart swell with feelings she was too afraid to voice.

"Y/N, you’re the best," Charles said, grinning. "I don't know what I’d do without you."

She smiled, her heart fluttering. "I’m just glad I get to be here with you, Charles."

Another time, they were at a party. Charles, always the life of the event, was in the middle of a group of friends, telling a story. Y/N stood on the outskirts, watching him with a mixture of pride and longing. He caught her eye and gave her a wink, causing her to blush and look away. She knew she was in love with him, but she didn’t want to ruin their friendship by confessing.

Then there was the day he had his first major racing win. Y/N was there, cheering the loudest. When he crossed the finish line, she ran to him, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug.

"I knew you could do it!" she exclaimed, her heart pounding with pride and something deeper.

Charles laughed, lifting her off the ground. "We did it, Y/N! We did it!"

But the moment she cherished the most was when they sat by the fire at a family camping trip. The night was cold, and the fire crackled between them. Charles looked at her, his face illuminated by the flames.

"Y/N," he said softly, "you’re my rock. I couldn’t have done any of this without you."

She smiled, her heart aching with unspoken love. "And I’ll always be here for you, Charles. No matter what."

Their bond seemed unbreakable, and Y/N cherished every moment, even as her feelings for him grew stronger. She knew she would rather have him as a friend than risk losing him by revealing her heart.

But one day a few years later, everything changed.

They were sitting in Charles' living room, watching a movie. Charles turned to her, a hesitant smile on his face.

"Y/N, there's something I need to tell you," he said.

Her heart skipped a beat. "What is it, Charles?"

"I’ve met someone," he said, his eyes shining with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. "Her name is Camille, and she’s amazing. We’ve been seeing each other for a while now and she is so lovely. You'll love her!"

Her heart stopped. Y/N's insides felt cold as she felt her heart shatter like glass. Tears started to form and her breath got stuck in her throat. She felt the world tilt on its axis. She forced a smile as hard as it was, her happiness vanishing. "That’s so great, Charlie!. I’m really happy for you."

He grinned, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "I knew you’d be so happy. I won't bother you every weekend for a movie anymore Y/N/N! I just want to thank you for putting up with me for so long. You’re the best."

She nodded, trying to keep her composure. "Always."

As Charles went on about Camille, Y/N's mind raced. She knew things would never be the same. She would have to make a choice: to stay close and risk her heart breaking every day and potentially damage his relationship or to distance herself out of respect for Camille and protect her own feelings. But right now, all she could do was listen and pretend to be happy for him, while her heart shattered silently.

Y/N stood up abruptly, needing an excuse to leave. "I just remembered I have to help my mom with something. I’ll see you later, Charles."

"Are you sure?," he said, looking a bit puzzled. She nodded. Charles muttered, "See you later, Y/N."

She walked out of his house, her chest tight with suppressed emotions. Once outside, she took a deep breath, feeling the weight of her unspoken love pressing down on her. She knew things would never be the same again.

And with that realization, she made her decision. She would distance herself, for both their sakes, even if it meant breaking her own heart.

taglist : @hiireadstuff @starz4me1 @f1fantasys @aundercover @ohthemisssery @ggaslyp1 @hadids-world @matcha---matcha @f1luvur @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @timmychalametsstuff

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles lecrelc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x female!reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 #formula one #y/n #best friends #ava speaks #charles leclerc fanfic

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randxmthxughts · 2 years ago

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Tunutu (Crush) - Neteyam x Omatikaya!reader

summary: although neteyam had never reciprocated her feelings, choosing him was always an easy decision for y/n, one of those she could make in a heartbeat. so when another man tries to win her affections, neteyam suddenly becomes aware of what he has been missing out on

wc: 7,7k

contains: childhood friends to lovers, first love/puppy love, jealousy, long-time crush

a/n: the way i completely made up everything about the vayätu-creature. sometimes i just write without a plot and although i was very excited for this idea, it was so difficult to finish it. i hope you enjoy reading it, please let me know if you do

masterlist

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Come on, Lo’ak, don’t take it to heart,” Kiri nudged her brother, “You know that Neteyam has been having a hard time lately, it’s not that he pushes you around on purpose.”

You emerged from behind the thick bushes, finally finding Lo’ak and Kiri sitting on a log, engrossed in a conversation. Your curiosity piqued at the mention of Neteyam.

“Why is Neteyam having a hard time?”

Kiri stiffened under your expectant gaze, but before she could even signal to Lo’ak to hold his tongue, he was already spilling out the truth. She groaned in frustration at how senseless her brother could be at times.

“Because our parents have been nagging at him to choose a mate lately.”

Neteyam must choose a mate. Your heart dropped at the statement you had been dreading to hear for years now, ever since he had first passed his Iknimaya. It was never going to be you, you were used to the thought, but nothing could have prepared for the weight of bearing it now.

“You are such a skxawng,” Kiri hissed at Lo’ak, swatting his arm. She shot you an almost apologetic glance.

“Why? It’s not like it is a secret,” Lo’ak rolled his eyes, finally drawing a connection between your sour expression and Kiri’s sudden irritation, "Neteyam has to choose a mate soon, so that the grandmother has enough time to prepare the new tsakarem. He's been putting it off for far too long."

“It is not easy to choose someone to love for a lifetime,” Kiri added with a sigh.

But it was. Choosing Neteyam was always an easy decision for you, one of those that you could make in a heartbeat. He had been your tunutu since childhood, a curious fascination with the older brother of your friends that eventually grew into a frustratingly intense crush, haunting you at every stage of your life. It was by Eywa's grace that your paths crossed with the Olo'eyktan's children when you were about six years old, learning to hunt and running through the forest together until the eclipse. On the second day of playing with Kiri and her brothers, you had boldly declared your love for Neteyam to everyone in the village, turning it into a big inside joke among the clan. If you had known that it would follow you far into your teenage years, when kids your age were relentless and cruel, you would have been more guarded about it. The guys teased Neteyam for having an admirer so clingy, it seemed as if he had grown a second tail. But no matter how much they tried to get to you with their taunts, it never seemed to bother him.

Even as a child, Neteyam had a maturity that went beyond his years. He seeked no entertainment in punishing someone for their feelings, something they cannot control. On the contrary, he admired your loyalty and dedication to him, the way you had remained his close friend, despite his gentle refusal of your romantic overtures. And so, that’s how it went. Your relationship grew stronger over the years, you learned and failed together but were always there for each other to offer a supporting shoulder. It hit a rough patch for a short period, right after both of you had completed your Iknimayas, when you tried to distance yourself from him to avoid any rumors. But Neteyam was persistent to keep your friendship, and so he did. Eventually, your feelings for him were pushed to an afterthought, as you had come to terms that Neteyam was never going to choose you. You had made peace with being just his friend, but your heart still sank at the thought that soon enough you will be replaced.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Kiri’s concerned voice caught your attention.

“Sure,” you gulped, forcing a small smile, “Lo’ak is right, it’s not like I didn’t know.”

“Right,” Lo’ak nodded hesitantly.

The siblings exchanged a knowing look. At times, your crush on Neteyam was sweet, entertaining even. But the two of them also got to live the nasty side of an unrequited love through you. Especially Kiri, who had shared the pain of knowing she couldn’t be with someone she loved, often commiserated with you in it.

“Maybe this is a sign for me to start looking too, you know? Find a mate,” your blabbered without a thought, trying to cover any traces of the stinging pain.

“Huh?” Kiri's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and she glanced at Lo'ak to see if he was as taken aback as she was. This was new.

You had never expressed the desire to find a mate before. Knowing well that Neteyam did not reciprocate your feelings and there was no point in getting your hopes up, the idea of being with somebody else appeared in your mind quite frequently, you just never voiced it. It was scary, the prospect of settling for someone you loved less, simply because there was no other choice.

Your parents had often spoken of their own bond, a relationship that began as platonic and it was only natural when they decided to choose each other for their companions. Companions, not lovers. Though your mother had assured you that once they had completed a Tsaheylu, everything changed. That the blessed bond is a connection deeper than love, one that is impossible to ignore after experiencing everything your mate had gone through. So with a heavy heart, you had to accept that one day you might have to face the same fate.

“Y/N, are you sure you’re okay?” Lo’ak stood up from his seat and walked over to you. He placed the back of his palm against your forehead, as if checking for a fever.

“I am not ill,” you chuckled, shoving him away, “I mean, I’ve known for a long time now that I’ll have to accept the advances of another man at some point. Why dwell on something I can’t have?”

It burned your throat to say the words but it was only the truth, and truth hurt. Kiri and Lo'ak agreed hesitantly with you but were still unsure if you meant it. It was as though you were convincing yourself more than them.

“Oh, Y/N…” Kiri began but Lo’ak was quick to interrupt her.

“No, don’t do that, Kiri,” he shushed his sister before she could even express how sorry she felt for you, “You’re right, Y/N. Do you have any idea how many of my friends keep asking about you? You should get out there and have some fun, I mean, Txi’pu’s practically turning purple when he sees you.”

“Txi’pu?” you questioned, “Didn’t he tame his ikran at like… twelve?” “Yes, yet the man is flustered by your mere presence,” Lo’ak chuckled, “But he seems like a cool guy, maybe you should give him a chance.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Hey, what’s that about?” Neteyam nudged his brother, staring in the direction where you sat.

The communal dinner was in full swing, right after Lo’ak had given Txi’pu the green light to approach you. You were engrossed in conversation with Kiri, as she nibbled on her food, when Txi’pu gathered up the courage to come up to you and offer you a plate of cut-up fruit.

Lo’ak followed his brother's line of sight and straightened immediately, intrigued by the interaction. He grinned in satisfaction, as he watched you shyly accept the gift.

“Txi’pu is going to ask Y/N out,” Lo’ak explained.

“Poor man,” Neteyam snorted, watching you intently, “She’s clearly not interested.”

Neteyam braced himself, eager to enjoy how you would decline Txi'pu's offer. He had seen you reject advances before with such poise and kindness that the men didn't even realize they were supposed to be offended. It was always amusing to watch. But as he saw you take Txi'pu's hand and stand up, a low growl rumbled in his throat.

“What’s happening?” he questioned with a strained voice.

“Looks like she said yes,” Lo’ak shrugged.

Neteyam shot his brother an angry glare, as if it was entirely his fault, before turning his attention back to you. He watched Txi'pu led you away from the clan, his eyes following the sway of your hips. Eventually, as the two of you disappeared from his line of sight, Neteyam clenched his fists so tightly that the pain from his nails digging into his palms went unnoticed.

He stood up abruptly, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the noise surrounding him. The fiery glow of the flames painted him in a crimson hue, adding to his already intimidating demeanor. Lo’ak frowned as he watched his brother walk away.

“Hey, where are you going?” he called out after him, but Neteyam was already gone.

That night, Neteyam laid in his hammock, unable to fall into his usual deep sleep as he gazed up at the starry sky. The distant sound of your laughter reached his ears, and he couldn't tell if it was real or just a figment of his own imagination. He had never felt this way before when you got attention from other men because you never reciprocated it. He wondered what you saw in Txi'pu. Would you be happy with a man like him?

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The next morning, Neteyam returned later than usual from his hunt, his body tired and mind restless from the lack of sleep. As he made his way towards the communal area, his attention was immediately drawn to you, seated with his siblings, engrossed in a conversation that seemed to captivate them. Neteyam felt a surge of energy within him at the mere sight of you talking so animatedly, he couldn’t wait to join and hear what you were saying. Quietly, he slipped in between Lo’ak and Kiri, so as to not disturb you, and his heart dropped upon the realization that the topic of the gathering was your walk with Txi’pu.

“Did he take you somewhere nice afterward?” Kiri asked, grinning.

Neteyam kept his gaze trained on the ground, not wanting to appear to be invested in your babbling about the last night, yet he hung onto every word you spoke. His patience was running thin, Kiri’s tail whacking him on the back with increasing excitement as you shared more details. He clenched his jaw in annoyance.

“We went to the waterfall, the one by the cliffs,” you smiled, “It was very beautiful.”

“Oh, that’s a good spot,” Lo’ak chimed in with a mischievous grin, “Girls are always impressed when I take them there.”

“Yeah, sure, Romeo,” Kiri rolled her eyes at him.

Neteyam cleared his throat loud enough to catch your attention.

“I think it’s too cliche. The waterfall,” his voice possessed a hint of annoyance, “He clearly hadn’t put much thought into impressing you.”

“No, it totally depends on who’s taking you there,” Kiri argued.

Lo’ak intervened too, and as the two of them went back and forth about it, Neteyam’s eyes locked on yours. He studied you intensely, trying to read whatever was going on in your mind. You seemed pleased with the outcome of the last night, of the time you spent with another man. He wondered if you had truly moved on from him, and he felt a pang of guilt for secretly wishing that you hadn't. You stiffened under his penetrating gaze, sinking deeper into your seat.

"How was your hunt?" you hoped to shift the conversation away from the uncomfortable tension that had suddenly taken hold.

“Nothing special,” he shrugged, then reached for the pouch on his loincloth, taking something out of it, “Here, I brought this for you.”

Neteyam had made a sweet habit out of bringing you small treasures from his hunts. From simplest rocks to wildflowers, he always admired how you managed to turn them into something beautiful. He thought that the vibrant blue feather he found this morning would look nice braided into your hair.

You accepted it with a smile, admiring the unique pattern. And as he watched you observe it, Neteyam just couldn’t bring himself to enjoy the moment. His usually cheerful expression was clouded with gloominess. He had hoped that you would confide in him about Txi'pu's unwanted advances and ask for his help, but instead, you seemed content with the outcome of the previous night.

“Thank you, Neteyam,” you beamed at him, but he could only manage to give you a faint smile.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Neteyam tousled the edges of his loincloth, irritation babbling in his chest, tightening so hard from within, he felt like he could snap any second now. His mother’s words, usually held dear to his heart, sounded like an annoying screech, as she went over the same topic: finding a perfect mate. Somebody on whom he could rely on when he becomes the Olo’eyktan, when the responsibilities are too much to handle. That the poor girl, whoever she is, must be prepared for her role in the upcoming few years, and that unlike Neteyam, she didn’t have her whole life to train. So he was being unfair to her by postponing the decision, leaving her no time to adjust.

His grandmother sat silently not too far, hands occupied with work, as she occasionally nodded to agree with Neytiri’s words. There was nothing new about them, it was the same lecture that has been passed down in generations through Mo’at’s lineage. She was sure that one day Neteyam would pass it down to his own children.

“Are you paying attention?” Neytiri asked again, and Neteyam had to nod to convince her that he did, though he stopped listening a long time ago, “She must be strong, resilient. It is important that you choose wisely. I believe you are mature enough not to be fooled by beauty only -”

Y/N was undeniably beautiful. Was he fooled by her appearance? By the way her hair cascaded down her shoulders, those two beaded braids, adorned with some that he had gifted her, framing her face and complementing the yellow of her eyes. By the way her body moved, like the flow of water, gentle and natural, as if every movement was planned out by Eywa herself. He couldn’t deny that sometimes his eyes lingered on her longer than a friend's should. Sometimes, even the way she sat close to him, their thighs pressed against each other and her small delicate shoulder nudging his, could make him too flustered.

“Led not only by her heart but also by her mind,” Neytiri continued.

Surely, you were smart, capable for your age. Neteyam would even dare to say that you were smarter than most of the adults he had known, probably smarter than him too. And you were kind too, with a heart so big that you willingly offered support and loyalty to him, though he had done nothing in return. If it were any other girl, she would have likely cursed him out and refused to acknowledge him for the rest of her life.

“Prepared to protect her clan and her family.”

Would Y/N be a good mate, ready to take on the responsibility of tsakarem? The thought was fleeting but heavy enough to ooze his head with delight. Neteyam took a deep breath to calm himself, feeling overwhelmed by how much the descriptions expanded to you. Neytiri paused, observing him for a moment.

“There is someone already, yes?” she asked, failing to conceal her hopeful tone.

Neteyam’s eyes snapped back to his mother, as she waited for him to answer. He could only shake his head and mutter an apology before scurrying away.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

No, it was wrong. Not after all those years of rejecting your affections, of not noticing when he crossed the lines and you didn't mind, he couldn't just swoop in now. Neteyam had struggled with this thought for many nights since the rumors of you letting Txi'pu court you began to circulate. You would tell him, right? He was your best friend, he had to be the first to know. But then again, it was probably foolish to believe what others had assumed. He had heard you say it to Lo'ak.

"I'm just taking things as they come," you shrugged, seemingly unbothered. Neteyam wished you would give him more of a reaction, so he could make some observations, "I don't think he and I are there yet."

But how could he believe it when he had seen you with Txi'pu repeatedly - the other day, the day after, and yesterday. He had noticed how you accepted the cut-up fruits from the warrior during communal dinners, held his hand, laughed with him - how it all had become somewhat of a habit. Neteyam struggled to maintain his appearances - he’d rather stay hungry than see you leave early with Txi’pu. Why him? The question knitted his eyebrows together in a deep-wrinkled frown, and he turned in his hammock once more, coaxing another annoyed whine from Lo'ak.

"Could you please stop?" his younger brother whispered, trying not to stir the rest of the family.

With sunrise approaching, it seemed unlikely to get any sleep anyway. Neteyam huffed and rose from his hammock, determined that a walk would clear his head. Maybe he was being selfish, greedy to keep you all to himself. But the idea of you being courted by someone else didn’t seem fair, especially when he had rejected everyone, every potential suitor suggested by his mother. Secretly, Neteyam wished that she would say your name, and then he would give her a sign that he wasn’t opposed to mating with you. But was it really unfair? After all, he never really gave you a chance.

His feet carried him away, making a few laps around the village. People were beginning to stir, emerging from their homes to begin their daily chores. Neteyam headed to the camp, intending to start his training early. But he stopped dead in his tracks when he heard your name.

Txi’pu and his friend were standing in front of the training hut, grinning widely and snickering about something. About someone. Neteyam hesitated to reveal himself, but his curiosity got the best of him, and he moved closer, trying to eavesdrop. The camp was beginning to get busy with the morning session, and just when Neteyam heard Txi'pu's malicious words about you, rage surged through him. In a split second, he made a decision. The rest was just as rushed, a heated fight took place between the two men.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“You, go to Tsahik, now,” Jake ordered to Txi’pu with a scowl, then turned to you with a softened expression, “Y/N, please take care of this knucklehead,” he gestured to his son.

You nodded, hunching slightly, disappointment evident in your demeanor. You weren't sure how you felt when you first saw Neteyam on top of Txi’pu, punching him too hard for it to be considered a part of the training. Luckily, Jake was there, pulling his oldest son away from the other warrior before bigger damage was done.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Neteyam sighed.

“You do not look sorry,” Jake scoffed, “So stop with the lying, and go get cleaned up. We will talk about this later.”

Similar to Neteyam, Txi’pu refused to meet your eyes. He looked guilty, even more so than Neteyam. You wondered what had caused their fight, the thought consuming you so much that you almost missed Neteyam walking away from you. Anger began to bubble up inside you at the lack of information. It wouldn't have surprised you if it were Lo’ak, but Neteyam rarely resorted to using his fists.

“What happened?” you asked again, catching up to Neteyam.

But he only shook his head, refusing to reveal the reason. As the two of you headed into his family hut, you gently shoved him to sit down and began shuffling through his mother's baskets. You quickly settled on picking out one of the healing balms, the one that usually stung the most. You were furious. For not telling you what had happened, for getting hurt, for attacking Txi'pu; that’s not who he was. Careless, reactive.

“Just say it,” he gritted through his teeth, feeling the cut above his brow throb under your fingers, “I can feel that you’re mad at me.” "You shouldn't have attacked him like that," you replied, your voice laced with irritation. More than anything, you hated when Neteyam got hurt.

“He deserved it.”

"That's not the point," you replied sternly. "This isn't like you. You don't go around punching people."

“Why him?” his voice cut harshly through the air, his amber eyes searching yours desperately, “Out of all people, why would you give yourself to him?”

“What?” you frowned, “I didn’t.”

“Well, that’s what he’s telling everyone,” Neteyam rolled his eyes, as if he didn’t believe you. You shook your head, partly to convince him you were telling the truth, partly denying the fact that he believed somebody else over you.

How could he truly think you would do that? Knowing how much you valued the sacred bond, how could you, a woman he had grown up with and seemed to know through and through, give herself to a man with whom she had spent only a mere of two weeks. Without feelings, or even proper courting? And even if it was true, wasn’t he supposed to support you regardless of what you did? The thought stung, bringing anger into your voice.

“And what if I had given myself to him? It is none of your concern,” you snapped, pulling away from him with a sharpness that left him reeling. Your words were meant to wound, to protect Txi’pu and to strike back at Neteyam, “You had no right to attack him like that.”

“But I had,” he hissed, frustrated with how oblivious you were at reading his actions, “I have every right to make a call, when you can’t.”

“That’s not fair,” you shook your head firmly, as if denying his words, “You don’t get to act possessive over me.”

Neteyam retreated slightly. Did he reveal too much? He had always been aware of the deep-seated feeling in his chest that riled up every time he saw you but had never dared to give it a name. He couldn’t let you recognize it before he’d bring himself to confront it first.

“Do you think I did this for you? I am the future Olo’eyktan, and it is my duty as a leader and a warrior to keep skxawngs like him in tact,” he retorted, his voice dripping with venom, “I am not some lovesick puppy.”

You stared at him in bewilderment, struggling to reconcile this angry, unfamiliar version of Neteyam with the man you thought you knew like the back of your hand. His face was masked with rage, as he took it out on you for a reason that had still remained unclear. ‘Lovesick puppy,’ did he mean you?

"Got it," you spat out.You knew better than this - to trust that he wouldn’t hold your feelings for him against you one day.

“I didn’t mean to -” he regretted immediately, grasping at your hand but you yanked it away from his grip and stormed off.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Bro, what’s wrong with you? Dad looked like he was going to skin you,” Lo’ak plopped down next to Neteyam.

The older brother sat defeated on the cliff, feet dangling from the abrupt edge mindlessly. He stared out into the distance, the sun setting over the rainforest.

“I don’t regret it, Txi’pu is disgusting,” Neteyam spat out, anger still lingering in his voice.

“What did he do?”

Lo’ak pushed for answers, since the reason for the fight was still unknown. When the fight was broken off in front of the other warriors, Neteyam refused to voice it. He didn’t want to repeat the nasty words spoken by Txi’pu when you were there and embarrass you in front of the others, even worse, he didn’t want to hurt you. Neteyam didn’t care enough to defend himself, didn’t care for the scolding he got from his father after that. Frankly, he didn’t regret attacking Txi’pu at all, drawing blood felt good. But his father pressed, knowing exactly how to prod the words out of his oldest son. Jake decided not to intervene in the matters of your friendship then, he only advised his son to be mature and clean up his own mess.

“He was saying these things about Y/N, and I couldn’t just let it go,” Neteyam gulped, his fists clenching in anger, “He told his friends that she gave herself to him without a Tsaheylu. That after years of pining for me, he had finally ‘cured’ her... some shit like that.”

“What an asshole,” Lo’ak sighed, shaking his head.

“Yeah…”

Both brothers sat there for a moment, giving each other the space to process their conversation. The only sounds were the soft rustling of the wind through the vines and the distant calls of the banshees. Eventually, Lo’ak decided to break the silence once more.

“I’m not saying he didn’t deserve it, but you shouldn’t have caused a scene like that. You got yourself into so much trouble.”

“Lo’ak,” Neteyam turned to look at him, a little frustrated, “It was about Y/N. How could I let it slide?”

“No, I know, I agree,” his little brother was quick to raise his palms in the air to show he was still on his side, “I’m just saying, you never act like that. Maybe the jealousy got the better of you.”

“I am not jealous,” Neteyam protested, “I just can’t stand it that she chose to spend time with some asshole and then got herself hurt.”

“It’s her life, she can make her own choices,” Lo'ak placed a comforting hand on Neteyam's shoulder. He could sense that his brother was battling with something deep within himself, that the boundaries were blurring.

“But he doesn’t deserve her.”

“And you do?” Lo’ak asked, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“W-what?” Neteyam scoffed, standing up to show he was done with the conversation, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It’s okay if it took you so long to realize. Just don’t make her wait any longer,” Lo’ak shouted after Neteyam, who was already walking away.

Neteyam's eyes widened with a sudden realization. It was as if Lo'ak's advice had struck the exact spot in his mind that had been bothering him for days, offering a simple solution to his inner turmoil. It was like medicine to his aching soul, and all he had to do was reach out and take it.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Txi’pu's apology came quickly but lacked any genuine remorse. It was as if he had been forced into it, and by the look on his face, you suspected that he had been, most likely by Jake. The thought of the Olo’eyktan having to waste his time like that and hear about the stupid rumors was humiliating. Neteyam, on the other hand, took his time, letting you cool off, while he would figure out his feelings. Though he hadn’t suspected that the lack of his apology drew a distance between you that you were previously unfamiliar with. He’d steal glances at you during the dinners but that was it. Your best friend, the man you have been in love with, didn’t feel like a safe person anymore.

He was confused about it too. Couldn't tell if it was just his mind playing tricks on him, or if he was genuinely blind to how much he used to relish in your presence. He gazed from afar with a longing look as you sat, looking pretty as ever. Your eyebrows were knitted in a gentle frown, eyelids halfway closed, as you huffed air out of your plump lips. He couldn't help but steal another glance in your direction, as he watched your head pull back with a loud whimper, your mother's hands quickly braiding another section of your hair, gripping tightly as you struggled to keep your neck straight. It would almost make him laugh at the way you reacted to pain, if he hadn't been so distracted by how pretty you looked.

“Stop gawking,” Lo’ak nudged him with an eye roll, “Just apologize already. It’s been days.”

Neteyam shook off his distracting thoughts, but the knife he was supposed to be sharpening remained as blunt as his mind, struggling to keep up with whatever Lo'ak was saying to him.

He wished he could just go back in time and stop himself from lashing out at you, from taking his frustrations out on the one person he cared about the most. He regretted pressing on the wound in your heart that had been bleeding for him for years, hurting you in the place where it hurt the most. The distance between you two had become unbearable, but he couldn't bring himself to close it. It felt different this time. Throughout all the years of your friendship, you had never fought like this. You had always been there for each other, through thick and thin. Misunderstandings were usually quickly resolved with sincere apologies. But the venomous words that had spilled out of him due to jealousy had stung like no other, ‘I am not some lovesick puppy.’

“Lo’ak,” Neteyam’s voice quievered, “Can you talk to her for me? She might listen to you.”

“Really, dude?” Lo’ak raised an eyebrow at him, “You want me to apologize for you?”

“No, I don't want you to apologize for me,” Neteyam frowned, already getting irritated, “Just make her talk to me, please.”

“Fine, but you owe me,” Lo’ak stood up abruptly, with a huff. Neteyam’s eyes widened at his sudden movement.

“Wait, are you going right now?”

Lo'ak gave a nonchalant shrug as he glanced in your direction, still seated in front of your mother. Neteyam thought it would be too humiliating to watch his brother beg for your attention while he was right there. You would think him as pathetic, a mighty warrior afraid to approach his friend of fifteen years.

“But she’s busy,” Neteyam's voice trailed off, eyes following as Lo’ak jogged over to you.

He watched the way Lo’ak greeted your mother with respect and earned a kind smile from her. You took your time to grant him your attention, tail swishing lazily from side to side, while Lo’ak made small talk. Neteyam stiffened once your eyes landed on him with a newfound harshness. He had never seen it from you before, and he could feel his heart sink in his chest.

What was Lo’ak telling you? Neteyam strained his ears to try to catch some of the conversation, but the soft murmur of your voices made it impossible. All he could do was pray that the little shrug you gave was meant to be for him, a chance to let him explain himself.

“I will be tracking a Vayätu after the eclipse. If he wants to apologize, he can help me first,” Lo’ak relayed your message to Neteyam.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Your ears perked up at the faint rustling sound, eyes already scanning the area, hunched over from behind the thick bushes. The mysterious spell was casted over the forest with the presence of Vayätu, a creature just as ethereal as it appeared. You felt it was near, just like Eywa, lingering somewhere in the dark. The bioluminescent shimmered over its sleek iridescent fur, concealing the creature, but the two sets of prominent yellow eyes stood out in the densest part of the forest.

Among your clan, Vayätu was one of the most valuable creations of Eywa. An animal rarely shown in the forests of Pandora, that despite its incredible speed and agility, was delicate, easy to scare away. Its only defense was disappearing into the foliage, blending with the surroundings. If a Vayätu got hurt once, it would never return to the same area.

Then there was the medicine that came with it. Deep within its long neck, the creature had a gland producing thick, viscous substance highly prized for its medicinal property, used to ease the pain for treating big wounds, or fed to women before giving birth. Retracting the liquid wasn’t harmful to the animal, similar to the way your eyes would produce tears when crying, but there was a certain routine to it. Requiring at least two hunters, one of which would hold the animal down, while the other one would gather the substance.

You stiffened immediately, hand reaching for your leather rope - a signal for Neteyam to prepare for the attack. Simple. You had done this before once, worked perfectly together, and then couldn’t stop laughing as the adrenaline rushed through your blood, jumping through the trees to hurry back home and announce your victory. But it seemed like at that moment, as he was kneeling beside you staring up at your profile, Neteyam had forgotten everything he knew. The apology, along with the confession he had been crafting carefully for days now, were ready on the tip of his tongue. He had to wait for the right moment.

Your skin was adorned with bioluminescent freckles that resembled a star constellation, just like the ones he used to stare at with his father on clear nights. Your eyes glowed softly, narrowed as if concentrating on something in the distance, and Neteyam was too distracted to pick up on it. He had seen you many times from many angles before, yet he couldn't help but be captivated by the way you tensed up, the definition of your lean, delicate arms, and the subtle rise and fall of your chest as you breathed quietly and steadily.

Neteyam was so entranced by the way your body moved that he didn't notice when you jumped forward, your form confident as you chased a shadow. His attention was quickly drawn to the two sets of yellow eyes piercing through the darkness, before disappearing in an instant. He realized that he had missed the signal to attack first.

The forest came alive with the sounds of rustling leaves and cracking branches, as you ran after the Vayätu, hot on its tail. But the extra set of legs gave the creature an advantage, it was faster, putting a prominent distance between you. Frustration bubbled within you at the realization that you were alone in the chase. Where the hell was Neteyam? You were not set for this; speed wasn’t your strength. That was Neteyam’s part, you were better at sneaking.

“Neteyam!” you called out loudly, snapping him out of his thoughts.

You pushed harder, heart racing, as you refused to let the creature out of your sight, because once you did, you would never see it again. Neteyam caught up then, quick on his feet, as he articulated through the trees. He felt guilty for getting distracted, he had to prove himself to be helpful for you.

You, you, you. You were all that filled his mind. With determination, Neteyam lunged forward, his lean muscular body fluidly navigating through the dense undergrowth of the forest. His eyes remained fixated on the Vayätu up head, never losing sight of his target as he closed in on the ethereal creature. With a sudden burst of speed, he leaped towards it, his arms outstretched as he managed to tackle it to the ground.

You were still a few paces behind, your blood pumped with adrenaline, as you watched the scene unfold. Quickly, while Neteyam was still holding the animal down, you dropped to your knees right next to them.

“Where the hell have you been?” you hissed angrily, your eyes already darting all over the trembling creature.

“I’m sorry, I got distracted,” he mumbled. You only shook your head, dismissing his apology.

Elderly often instructed young hunters to calm their prey, make them feel safe and connected to Eywa. Following their advice, you reached to gently stroke the creature’s neck, whispering soft prayers to soothe its fear. Neteyam’s gaze was glued to you, as if something intimate and intricate was happening, something that only the two of you could comprehend.

“Okay, get ready to apply more pressure,” you warned, before taking out your wooden flask, crafted out of the root of the Home Tree.

Neteyam only nodded, watching the way you worked. The creature trembled under your touch, but his grip was unyielding, letting you collect the precious liquid and gently store it away. With a pat on his arm, you signaled for him to release the animal. Neteyam leaned back, panting heavily as the Vayätu sprang to its feet, shaking its head and snorting in frustration before darting away into the darkness.

Both of you stood up and remained quiet for a moment, as he wiped away the sweat and grime clinging to his skin. You were too covered in dirt, body exhausted from the chase. Yet, the triumph took over you once the realization that you had been successful settled in. A small smile crept onto your face.

"Nice work," you spoke quietly, “Even though you almost snoozed.”

He chuckled weakly, a little embarrassed. Amber eyes scanned your face, tracing the now smudged patterns of yellow paint.

“Let’s wash off,” he offered.

The tension slipped right back in and hung heavily between the two of you, as you walked ahead, letting Neteyam trail after you. Navigating through the dark forest was easy, you had taken this way to the pond many times before. There was no need to check if Neteyam was still following, you knew he was. He wouldn’t let this opportunity slide, not after sending Lo’ak to talk to you. You weren’t going to deny it - you missed Neteyam terribly, and a part of you had hoped that the apology would be sincere enough to soothe the pain left by his words.

The water was still under the shimmering moonlight, creating a perfect mirror of its surroundings. You carefully removed your belt, ensuring that the items in the pouch didn't spill, and placed it on the ground. Neteyam followed your lead and quietly put down his weapons.

“You wanted to talk,” you began first, the harshness returning to your voice.

Sure, it was disappointing, the way things turned out with Txi’pu. You couldn’t help but pity yourself for being played by the first guy you decided to give a chance to. The thought of him holding your hand now seemed disgusting, sent shivers down your spine. But it was easy to dismiss it because for the past week, the sting left from Neteyam’s words was much worse. You wanted it to go away, desperately.

“Y/N… I am so sorry, I truly am,” Neteyam took a long breath, forcing you to look at him, “I wish I could take back everything I said.”

"Don't apologize if it's how you really feel, Neteyam," you replied, your voice catching in your throat. "I just wish I had known sooner, so I would stop acting like a ‘lovesick puppy’ around you."

“No, no, I didn’t mean it,” he raised his palms in the air, as if to stop you, “I didn’t even think. I only spoke out of jealousy.”

“Jealousy?” you scoffed in disbelief. Did he really try to lie his way into forgiveness? “Why would you ever be jealous?”

Neteyam sighed and took a few steps closer to you. Almost too close. Of course, as friends, you had been even at a closer approximation before, but there was something different about it now. Too intimate, like no one else was supposed to see it. Your eyes flickered up to his face.

"Because you gave a chance to somebody else, and... I hated it," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Seeing you hold his hand instead of mine, laugh at his jokes, accept his gifts...it hurt me, more than I care to admit. Do you understand?"

You blinked in confusion, though your heart raced at the mere possibility that he was hinting at what you had hoped for a long time. Neteyam waited for you to answer his question, but when you opened your mouth to speak, no words came out. Then you felt him reach for your hand, long fingers intertwining delicately with yours. Goosebumps covered your skin in an instant.

“Every time my parents talked about choosing a mate, I got frustrated because all I could see was your face… you by my side. And I was so confused, I didn’t know what it meant back then, but now I do,” words spilled out of him with sincerity, “I like you more than a friend, Y/N. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize that.” “’s better late than never, right?” you attempted a faint smile with a croaky voice, though your heart was racing like crazy.

Then, as he leaned in, every thought seemed to wash away, and all you could focus on was him.

“Can I just..?” he trailed off, his arms open for you.

You nodded, stepping into his embrace. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in deeply, savoring your scent. He had missed you so much and had been dreaming of holding you in his arms ever since the fight. All he wanted was to keep his arms around you, both gentle and strong at the same time. And sweet like honey, his voice dripped.

“I see you, Y/N.”

You pulled away, searching for his face.

“Can I kiss you?” his voice trembled like a leaf on a windy day, and your own heart skipped a beat at the question.

You could only stare back, frozen, as Neteyam’s fingers brushed hesitantly against your face. He leaned in and waited for you to push him away, but once he was sure you wouldn’t, his lips ghosted over yours. A beat, and with a shaky breath, he pulled you closer. You surrendered to the feeling immediately, hands finding their way to his chest, trying to touch, feel every part of him, just to convince yourself this was real. With a soft gasp, your tongues intertwined, his taste like honey, sweet and intoxicating, marked you as his own.

The kiss broke, foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "I should have waited for your permission."

You shook your head weakly, unable to form any coherent thoughts. All you knew was that you wanted more.

"Don't be sorry," you nuzzled his face with your own, "I...I wanted this for a long time."

Neteyam felt like his heart couldn’t take it anymore. He was lightheaded, intoxicated by you. By the way your lips tasted, by your scent, by the feeling of your hands on him. He kissed you again, more desperately this time, pushing you back slightly, stepping into the the pond. You followed him without a word, the water lapping at your ankles.

The water was cool around you, causing a shiver down your spine, though you weren’t sure, maybe it was just Neteyam. He pulled you closer, dipping the two of you into the water half to your waist. There was only one thing on his mind - he needed to take care of you, wash away the stress and the tiredness he had caused, and make up for it with his love.

You closed your eyes, surrendering yourself to his embrace, as he began to run his hands over your back, gently massaging your shoulders and arms. Some of the water he cupped had dripped over your back, relaxing away all of the tension in your body. You could feel yourself leaning onto him more, as if your knees were ready to give out any second now.

Neteyam’s hands continued to roam all over your body, exploring every curve he never had the chance to touch before. Everything that he had dreamed about was right there, under the pads of his fingers. He scooped another handful of water, bringing it to your face this time, washing away the dirt and the traces of paint off your face. You let out a sigh of pleasure, when his thumb grazed the blue stripe over your cheekbone.

His hands then strayed lower and lower, found their way to your hips and lingered there. He couldn’t move, thumbs pressed into your skin, leaving hot traces. You could feel the heat building in your chore, the desire in his eyes was undeniable. Without a word, he leaned in and kissed you again, his tongue probing gently at your lips. You opened your mouth, allowing him to deepen the kiss, and you felt a rush of heat flow through your body.

“Neteyam…” you sighed softly, your hands reaching for his loincloth, tugging at it weakly.

“Yes?” he asked, as he dipped his head to kiss your neck.

“I want you,” you managed to let out, hand reaching lower to stroke over his length. He pressed into your palm with a groan.

“I want you too,” he planted another kiss to your neck, “But we have to wait…”

“What? No,” you shook your head weakly.

“Mhm, yes… I have to court you first,” he spoke in between short breaths he took, mouth never leaving that sensitive spot on your neck, “Do it properly. Earn your affections.”

“Neteyam, you know you had me all this time,” you chuckled weakly.

His chest heaved as he pulled away slightly, his hands still cradling your cheeks. He looked deeply into your eyes, a small smile curling his lips as he studied your flushed face for a moment.

“I want to do this right, Y/N, will you let me?” he asked softly, like he had already planned out the whole thing in his head.

Butterflies churned in your stomach, and you nodded, your own lips stretching into a lovesick grin. He planted another gentle kiss on your forehead.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

taglist (lkm if you want to be added): @bigdikzaddy @awriana @scarletrosesposts @abbersreads @mechformers @my-love-of-books @avatarbyamara @robin-the-enby @netemoon @minjix @nilrilie @grierpilots @suntizme @live-laugh-neteyam @misscaller06 @darkacademictrash @arminsgfloll @omnifanfic-copycat @crazyforteyam @sakura-onesan @laylasbunbunny

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luveline · 1 year ago

Note

Girl pls pls write stripper reader and Spencer where she thinks he would never date her bc she’s a stripper and just a sprinkle of angst with lots of comforting fluff and Spencer reassuring

thank u for requesting! ♡ fem, 1.5k

cw mentioned past domestic/workplace abuse, unhealthy eating habits

Someone broke into my apartment. 9:14AM

Spencer reads the message under the table but forgoes discretion when he registers what it says and who it's from. He excuses himself from the round table, something he isn't even sure he's allowed to do, and hurries out onto the landing.

You answer on the second dial. "Hey, did you see my text?" you ask.

"Are you okay?" He squeezes his phone.

"I'm not sure. I'm fine, but my lock is busted and the door won't stay shut."

"Where are you?"

If you're surprised that he's steamrolling, you don't show it. Spencer leaves work to meet you at the coffee shop you've chosen for refuge, your eyes tired, a small bag of your most important possessions hanging on a slumped shoulder. He hugs you straight away.

"I'm fine," you say into his neck.

He hugs you tighter. "That's good," he says, feeling useless, fingers stroking little paths into your shoulders. He pictured the worst from your text, and seeing you in person is the only true mitigator. You'll talk down bruises and black eyes —you have in the past.

He pulls the story from you as you walk back to his apartment, shoulder to shoulder in the cold street. "It was open when I got home, the door, but I did what you asked me to."

"You didn't go in?" he confirms proudly.

"Not at first."

"You really won't call the police?"

"I texted you."

Spencer takes the strap of your bag from you and throws it over his own. "I'm not that kind of cop. I'm not really a cop at all."

"No, you're a fed, which is worse. The girls at work told me to stay away from you." You wipe under your eyes sluggishly. Sleep clings to you like a shadow trailing behind you, ever-present.

He puts his hand behind your back, worried you'll fall up the steps to his apartment building. "They think I'll what, extort you?"

You shake your head, something sad in the slow side to side. "Girls like me have no business around guys like you."

"You probably get too much business from guys like me."

You laugh, but you both know it's not what you meant. Spencers noticed it more and more lately, nothing so obvious until now, this dead set belief you hold that he's one type of person and you're another. He gets that your work isn't what you wanted for yourself when you were growing up. He knows it isn't easy, even on your 'good' nights. It takes a toll to be seen as you are, nothing left private. But you've always said you liked stripping as much as anyone should like their job. "It's a job," you'd said, having barely known him, tired and hungry, curled up on his couch with nowhere else to go. "Only the luckiest get to really enjoy work. S'why it's called work."

He'd hoped, perhaps in a self-absorbed way, that having more support might make you feel better about yourself; he wanted his friendship to give you some confidence, basically. Before you met Spencer there was no one else you could depend on. It's why you stayed working for a man who broke your wrist until Spencer weaselled his way into your life and made you a bed in his living room for the time it took to get you out. His credentials helped, of course, but you survived it because you're resilient. You're awesome. You've done everything you can with what you have and you don't think it's enough.

You and Spencer take the elevator to his floor, and for the twenty seconds it takes to get there, you let your cheek rest on his shoulder. He's just about to drop his head on top of yours when the doors open, and the slice of quiet you'd both savoured slips like sand between his fingers.

"I can go back and get some of your stuff," he offers, guiding you the short walk to his door. He passes you the key rather than struggle with the lock himself.

Your hand shakes as you push down the handle. "There's nothing worth going back for."

"Don't say that, you have all your clothes there, your couch. You have things. I'll take my car."

"You hate driving."

"I'd hate someone robbing you even more."

"Robbing me again," you correct, holding the door for him.

You didn't have anything worth the trouble, it seems. You keep your savings in a locked box hidden in the bathroom that they couldn't find, and though your apartment is clean and bigger than the one you lived in before Spencer met you, it's mostly empty. You don't have a TV, you're not a collector. They took the radio off of the refrigerator, your microwave oven, and a box of cosmetic jewellery worth chapel change.

"But it's your stuff. You deserve to have stuff." Spencer drops your bag gently and his with less care by the door.

"It's only until the locksmith can come tomorrow," you say with a yawn. "Let the junkies lavish in my stuff for the next twenty hours."

"That's not a problem for you?"

"I don't have the luxury of that being a problem for me, Spence. What am I supposed to do? The locksmith can't come–"

"There are a hundred locksmiths."

"Not that I can afford." You shrug out of your jacket. "Spence, listen to me. It's okay. I can't ask you to do that, anyways. You've done more than enough for me already," you say, sitting on the couch. You perch for a moment like you're trying to be polite until fatigue overtakes you, and you sink into the cushions with a relieved sigh.

Spencer crosses the space between you and kneels by your feet to untie your shoelaces.

"Don't do that," you mumble, hand over your mouth as a second yawn in as many minutes catches you.

"Why not?" He slips your shoes off, letting his hand rest on your ankle. "Wanna watch that weird cooking show–"

"Why aren't you at work?"

He climbs onto the couch next to you, unafraid to sit shoulder to shoulder. "You were having an emergency."

You rub your face with both hand. "I knew I shouldn't have called you. You can't just leave work because of me, Spencer, what if you get in trouble?"

"Someone I care about needed my help, and Hotch understands that." Spencer puts on his big boy pants with a wince. "Do you get that?"

"I don't really… I don't…" You falter. "We're never going to work. You'll never…"

"I'll never what?" he asks insistently, voice lilting up with a little incredulity. He can't help it.

You refuse to answer, turning your face from his.

Spencer knows what you're going to say. He's bad with girls but he's good at recognising human emotion; he sees the same insecurity in himself as he does in you. He knows the feeling.

You're not right, is the thing.

Spencer would kiss you if he thought that would change your mind. But tired as you are, angry with yourself, defeated, he knows it's not a good idea. He takes your hand instead, sewing your fingers together with a deliberate slowness. He brings his other hand to them and strokes the back of your index finger with his thumb, careful not to disrupt your press on nails. He knows they have a tendency to come off with too much pressure, and you're always losing your glue.

"If they really need me to go, they'll call me. But I'm staying here." His thumb moves down to your knuckle. You have little calluses and cuts and bruises everywhere from dancing. He's seen the contusions that line your thighs on a semi permanent basis. "When was the last time you had something to eat?"

"Spencer," you murmur.

"Let me take care of you, please," he says, hand curling around your wrist with extreme gentleness. "You need to eat. You need to sleep. Let me worry about everything else for once, I want to."

You still don't look at him, but you sink down an inch at a time until your cheek is on his shoulder again, like it had been in the elevator. Hesitant, you wrap your arm around his stomach.

"I'm so stupid," you say.

He wonders if that's a placeholder for what you really want to say. You think so little of yourself sometimes, but it's like you've told him before. Not everyone has the luxury of enjoying their job.

"You're amazing." Spencer feels like he's on fire everywhere that your skin touches him. Is he saying the right things? "You are. You're the only person who doesn't see that."

"The only person here, maybe."

"You should always be here, then. With me. That way I can remind you."

You sound more like yourself when you answer, though tiredness lines every word, "Thank you, Spencer. I don't deserve you."

"Yes, you do."

Spencer rubs your hand until you fall asleep, and then he buys you a new toaster oven on his phone, and an industrial security lock. He doesn't know what it'll take to convince you that you deserve him, you deserve better, but he's gonna try.

He presses his cheek to your temple and focuses on the softness of your skin where it touches his.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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haerni · 6 months ago

Text

OH MY GOD, “who is he? ”

summary: feels like you’re fallin’ deeper & maybe you’re going crazy, right? does he want you or not? he’s so confusing!

ft. park sunghoon (based on ‘OMG’ by newjeans!)

content: fem! reader, tooth-rotting fluff, a lil bit of hurt comfort, sunghoon is that confusing guy, mutual pining, reader is a bit embarrassing i think? sunoo your support system! 1.8k words

— very very minimal proofread and editing bc ive only done this in one sitting (help me).

( 🍃 ) notes: this took me so long omfgsbks but here we are with my very first content on this blog, please be nice TT sunghoon might be ooc saur.. theres that! can u tell i love sunoo, i have to sneak him in. maybe the story will jump for awhile so sorry for that also.

you've probably liked PARK SUNGHOON for almost half of your life.

ever since he sat with you at the swing from the park you used to go to when you were kids and offering his own comfort when you were crying on that day, to this day forward when he offers his shoulder for you to cry on.

he never questions the reasons behind your cries, he never pushes and all he does is sit there and offer you whispers of solace that you take to heart.

because your best friend wouldn't want the worst for you.

because all he does is care for you.

and maybe—just maybe—you hate him a little for it, for doing things that make your heart flutter, for simply just touching your hair and pulling you closer hoping that it will quell the sadness that consumes you. or when he would walk with you home after his practice despite being tired and run down to the bones, he would never miss a day. or when he would call you such sweet things like you are together when you aren't.

or when one time he heard through jay how someone was making passes on you and disgusting comments about you, he comes home with a bruised lip and wounded knuckles. he refused to let you see him, not until you forced your way to his room with the first aid kit his mother let you borrow, because he also wouldn't let her treat him.

or when you can't even pretend to be okay in the sea of bodies in a party and he notices right away. he drags you by your hand and drags you out of the party without a care for anyone. he only tells you that he hates the party and would rather eat out in a convenience store nearby.

he holds your hand tightly, you knew that night you loved park sunghoon more than you could ever imagine.

a decade into your friendship, you fell in love with your best friend, park sunghoon.

you did your best to hide it, to keep these emotions at bay and lock away into the very bottom of your heart. you swallow the bubbling feeling in your throat whenever he's close. you did your very best to preserve the relationship the both of you built together. even if all you wanted was just ruin it and become something more.

loving park sunghoon was easy, it was easy as the breeze that touched your hair, it was easy as falling into a routine of living and looking forward to days when he's with you. the prospect of loving sunghoon comes naturally and you don't know how to stop it. it just grows more everyday and suddenly you find yourself in garden of flowers blossoming in your heart, so much that's its starting to flow out little by little and you're slipping, you're heart is becoming unguarded, the walls you've spent all your life building is chipping away slowly.

it's becoming suffocating, it's hard to breathe around him.

the passing touches, the stolen glances and brief silence has been occurring more and more.

it's only a matter of time, before someone catches on. unfortunately, that time is right now.

"what's with you and sunghoon, lately?" your friend, sunoo asks, "did you guys have a fight?"

a second passes before you answer him, "we did not. why do you ask?"

sunoo sits closer to you and puts his face on his palm, "you have been avoiding him."

you stopped, "no, i'm not."

"it's lunch and you're sitting here with me in the library, working on an assignment that's not due until next week, when you usually never miss eating when he comes by our room to eat with you." he pointed out.

too specific. were you that predictable? and when you don't answer sunoo realizes something. when his eyes widen too much for your comfort that's when you interject from whatever train of thought he had.

"or maybe—"

"i don't know what you are talking about, sunoo."

"you're avoiding him.."

"i already told you, i'm not—!"

"sure, keep telling yourself that." sunoo snorts at that, "i know you like him and not how a best friend should."

you can't breathe again, you were absolutely done for. because sunoo was right, he got the answer right and you couldn't find it in yourself to quip back at him. you can't find it in yourself to deny and brush it off, because it's simply not real, it's not what your heart is telling you. maybe, that was your last straw.

maybe that was all it needed for you to let out your heart just for once and face the reality.

you don't want sunghoon as a best friend.

the realization hits harder when someone utters it out, because you have lived all your life hiding and suddenly, it pours out like rain after a long unending drought.

now here you are. in the porch of your house under the moonlight with you encased in sunghoon's arms, because you were stupid enough to go out and try to forget about him, to go see other people and hope that you can lose all these feelings you have for him. it didn't, maybe it never will. a boy, somehow he's the same height and stature as sunghoon it was enough for you to agree for a dinner out.

it was stupid to begin with. you didn't even know this guy's name (you can't even bother to remember). because while you sat there and tried to engage with him, your mind drifted far on how he does not have the same moles as sunghoon, he does not make you laugh like sunghoon does, maybe he would've took you out to that ramen place you always go to after a long day instead of this fancy restaurant that you don't even know. quite sure enough that guy only talked about himself, you didn't listen.

"so are we going?" he gives you an all-knowing smile and as you try to turn him down a voice comes in.

"she's not going with you." you look behind, and there he stands one hand in his pocket wearing a white button-up shirt that you haven't seen before, a cold gaze accompanying it and his hair done all too perfectly—like he was on a date.

"hey! who do you think you are?" sunghoon ignores him as he offers his hand to you. tilting his head in question. you did not hesitate to grab it. it's almost a curse for him to know when you need him the most.

you can feel the heat rising up in your body as he intertwines both of your hands and gives it a squeeze.

he brings you home, like how he promised your dad when you were sixteen.

you bite your lips in hopes of suppressing all the emotions running down on you. but you can't really do that in front of sunghoon, can you?

you broke down.

and sunghoon was there—it was enough. it was enough for everything to pour out.

"i'm tired, hoon." his arms tighten around you, burying his face to your hair, almost as if he's kissing it in comfort.

you're tired? is it because of that guy? should he beat him up? you wouldn't like it anyway, so he erase the thought. park sunghoon has never hated anyone more than that jerk right now. he curses that stupid guy who made you like this.

"i hate you park sunghoon."

"you don't mean that."

you don't.

"i really really hate you." you were probably the worst to utter such words to him. to your best friend, to sunghoon out of all people. but you can't stop. "you're so stupid, stupid."

it takes him back, he didn't expect for you to be mad at him. he's silent for a moment as he continues to hold you like you're going to disappear.

"how am i stupid, baby?" there he goes again with those stupid nicknames.

you refuse to look at him, burying your face to his nape. and when you don't answer he talks for you.

"do you hate me that much for you not to look at me?" you really hate park sunghoon.

he sighs at the lack of your response. he shakes his head before he turns his face closer to your ear, "what am i gonna do, baby? you hate me, but i like you so much."

what? what the fuck?

that makes you widen your eyes processing what he just said as you sit up straight and facing him. and it makes him laugh a little, he probably shouldn't, but he couldn't help it. not when you're this adorably looking at him like you can't believe it.

"don't joke about things like that park sunghoon!"

wow, using his government name? "you don't believe me?" you don't answer. "why do you think i came to that awful restaurant wearing this shirt?" you knew it was new, you've never seen him wear it.

"because you want to fit it?" you answer.

"that too," he laughs, "and because you didn't eat lunch with me, you didn't walk home with me. i heard from sunoo, that you were out with someone and you didn't dress up because of me. you were on a date and it wasn't me. you were avoiding me, baby."

he looks at you and it hurts because both of you are a fucking idiot. all this time, sunghoon liked you.

park sunghoon likes you.

"how long?" and you can't help it, you have to know.

he thinks for a second, "hm.. since when you were on that swing? i thought you were pretty." he smiles so easily.

oh my god.

you buried your face once more, not really knowing what to do, because for the longest time you thought you were the only one feeling this way.

but sunghoon understands, he continues to talk, "jay thinks i'm obsessed with you. he's not wrong, you know? you don't have to say anything right now, i know you're having a har—"

you kissed him. park sunghoon is really an idiot. how can you not like him? how can anyone not even like him? he's so stupid. sunghoon's eyes widen a bit, but melts into your touch as quickly.

god, was this really happening? please don't ever wake him up if this is a dream.

you pulled away for a breather and he reached for another one causing you to block his lips with your hand.

feeling the blood in your cheeks, flustered as sunghoon kisses your palm instead. his hand coming up to yours to remove it.

"can i kiss you again?" you were going to die, "please?" you're sure of it.

"no!"

sunghoon laughs at that. you can't feel it, but his cheeks are really hurting now from smiling. maybe one day you'll let him kiss you more, but for now this is enough.

he has loved you almost all of his life.

𖹭 likes and reblogs are highly appreciated! i hope he is not too out of character :')

#sunghoon x reader #enhypen x reader #park sunghoon x reader #enhypen sunghoon x reader #enhypen sunghoon #sunghoon imagines #enhypen #sunghoon #park sunghoon #( 🌟 ) HAE created a new post !

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