#and how helpless she felt even though she tried her best | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alilobsessive · 6 days ago

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Chips in my pocket and bloodstains on my hands

The Squid game prompt by @jellyfishmoon97 has been eating away at my mind since I read it, so I made this! Enjoy! Also I have never watched Squid Games all a know from it is from osmosis back when it first came out and now.

You’ve tried so many things before this, even calling your father. The bastard hung up on you before you could even explain. Admittedly you did a poor job at it, but you had never once asked for anything from him before. Couldn’t he have just listened, but now you’re here, risking your life to save the person you love the most. The only person left in your hate filled life that matters, your son. Even if you die trying.

Tw: Unspecified terminal illness, child abandonment, spousal abandonment, violence, death, murder, minor character death, reader intentionally kills several people.

——————

You tap your foot nervously, anxiety chewing away at your very core, the phone buzzes once “come on, come on” you mumble chewing on your finger. Your face is flushed from a combination of tears and the cold, this is the last person you wanted to talk to buzz twice. But you need it, need him to answer, it’s life or death, you can’t take out any more loans, you’re going bankrupt, buzz thrice. You need him to pick up, you need to save- click “what do you want” the familiar voice says, cold and unfeeling. You haven’t talked to him in years, if you had it your way you never would. But you need his help “I-“ you choke up, you’ve practiced what to say repeatedly. But actually saying it is a completely different story, telling this man ‘my son is dying, I need money to afford his treatment’ is a lot harder than you thought it would be. “Well?” He says impatient, panic seizes through your body “I need money” you spit out and then instantly cringe. You could have definitely explained that better, it’s quite on his end so you quickly add “It’s for my-“ he cuts you off. “Of course this is what you would call me for” “what-“ “you’re just like your mother” you’re stomach drops. “NO WAIT IT'S FOR MY-“ he hangs up “… son” you stand there.

Your phone is still held up to your ear as everything finally hits you. Fear, sorrow, dread, anger, helplessness, your grip on your phone tightness, your body rigid, tears blurring your vision. You throw your phone to the ground with a loud “FUCK!” It bounces then skids on the floor, cracks forming on it. You crouch in this dirty alleyway sobbing uncontrollably. Body shaking, you can’t do it, you failed, you’re useless, your son is going to die and it’s all your fault.

You met your Wife or well ex Wife before you even left Wayne Manor, the two of you didn’t go to the same school but you hung out at the same places. The two of you had a whirlwind romance, not the smartest idea but it just felt right. You never felt more at peace with another person in your entire life. They’re your soulmate, still are even after everything. You know it’s stupid, still loving someone even after they left you and your son, but no one said emotions made sense. The two of you moved in together, got married and eventually had your son. Cecil is your pride and joy, one of the best things to ever happen to you, but he was born sick. Very sick, his treatments are costly and regular, without which he would die. Neither of you could afford it, but you didn’t give up on him, couldn’t give up on him. Dispute the nagging voice in the back of your head saying it would be a mercy to just let him die. You just can’t, your Wife could though, she had already accepted the fact that your baby is as good as dead. That you can’t save them, not with your funds. It was a constant fight with her, intel one day, she just left.

You can’t blame her, no matter how much you want to, you just can’t. Maybe in another life you would have done the same. But not in this one, you would rather die than leave Cecil behind, not like your father did to you, not like your mother did to you. Not like what everyone in your life did to you, you never want Cecil to know that pain. Which is why you went into debt, which is why you took out loans, which is why you called that bastard of a man. The great Bruce Wayne, you’re father. Which is why you're crying on the ground, the next best step is to move out of your apartment. Then you won’t have to worry about rent and can just live out of your car. You already sold anything of value anyway and not like Cecil can leave the hospital at this rate. He might never be able to, but you don’t want to think about that.

You just sit there, sobbing your eyes out as someone approaches you. You quickly turn around and pull out a knife, this is Gotham after all. “Hold on!” The stranger in an expensive suit holding a briefcase says, “I have something for you” you look at him suspiciously as he puts down the briefcase. You expect a gun, for you to be shot right then and there. Instead he opens the briefcase and pulls out an envelope, one with your name on it. He hands it over and you stare at it suspiciously, it’s thick and heavy. Whatever is inside, there’s a lot of it. “Go on” he says, motioning for you to open it. Hesitantly you do, admitting expecting to be fear toxined or Joker gassed. But instead what’s inside is money, a lot of it, quickly counting it all it's just enough to pay for Cecil’s health care for another month. Just a month, but it’s more than you could ever dream off.

Looking up at the man, your eyes narrow, “what’s the catch?” He just smiles at you, a very familiar smile. A smile of someone being polite but is internally looking down on you. “No catch” he says then reaches back in and hands you a card “for this batch at least” that caught your attention. Taking the card you look at it confused, just a few shapes and a phone number. “I’m a representative of a game show” you look back up at him, “it was originally in Korea, but it’s been doing so well we’re expanding to America. You and contestants all over the country, all of which with financial difficulties will be playing several games to win 31 million dollars. If you agree that is” 31 million, 31 million that’s more then you were planning on asking Bruce for.

But dispute this, it’s still suspicious, they were clearly watching you for a long time, a very long time. Scoffing slightly you look away “this some villain type shit?” The man’s smile drops, you let out a quick laugh “oh? It is? What is this a killing game?” He doesn’t respond, “so it is, what villain set this up? It’s the Joker right? Sounds like something he would do, maybe the rider?” He shakes his head. “No one you would know, just call the number on the back if you want in” and with that the man left. 39 million, honestly you would prefer more, but beggars can’t be choosers. Busides, you would do anything for your son.

Even if that meant killing.

Tim really didn’t want to be here, but Bruce needed someone to infiltrate these games. He had on a stupid fucking gold and diamond encrusted animal mask and the most expensive suit he owned. This was a test of every fiber of his being, apparently for decades several members of the elite from the US to Europe would take trips to Korea. These trips where to watch an event called The Squid Games, named after the annual last competition of these games. The winners would get several million dollars, the losers death. All for the elites own twisted amusement, for six days they would watch as 456 players slowly die until only one person was left. It’s horrendous, disgusting and deeply upsetting that the organizers thought he would be into this. Who even told them he would be into this? Whatever at least this lets Batman take this whole thing down. Hopefully there spy inside the games comes back out safely.

As he took his seat he spotted several people, some were clearly from the court of owls. Which makes sense, this feels like their cup of tea. But another one, he could recognize even without the mask. The man made his stomach drop, it also explained how he got here. Ra’s Al-Ghul, the demon's head of course he would be into a game like this or at the very least invite Tim here to fuck with him. Said man approached Tim, clearly recognizing him to, “it’s a pleasure to see you here” “I can’t say the same” Ra’s just hums at this. “The show's about to start” is all the man says, going over to his seat, right next to Tim’s. He wants to kill this man so bad, but he can’t. Whatever, Tim’s gaze is on the large screen, he can hear the voices of an announcer presenting and explaining things to the audience and contestants.

You were ready, prepared for blood to be on your hands, to die by the hands of others. The arrangements were made so that if you didn’t return in a week’s time you would be reported missing. You hoped your Wife would be informed, that they would learn of your passing and take care of Cecil or pull the plug. But if not you made it so he would go to your next of kin, dispute what you desire. He is the man listed on your birth certificate. Although you would prefer none of those options to go down in a winner take all game like this your chances of winning are 1/459. But because of this weather you live or die, you win. What you weren’t prepared for was it not being a killing game. Well everyone else was acting like it wasn’t, so either they haven’t realized it is or they're all psychopaths. Then again you are completely cool with killing any of them at this moment. So what that says about any of you is up for debate.

“Hay cutie!” A tall woman says as she approaches you in the waiting area. You glance over at number 123, your stance is rigid, back straight, you are ready for anything. She clearly isn’t, dispute the pure confidence she exudes. No one here is, there all mingling and talking to each other. If this was a normal game show you would be doing the same, but intel proven otherwise, this isn’t a normal game show. “What’s someone like you doing in a place like this” “I’m married” is your response, sure you had to sell your ring and sure they left you. But no divorce papers were signed, so legally and emotionally you’re still married. They instantly back off “oh shit- sorry, I’m Daphne by the way” 123 says holding out a hand. You rigidly shake it, it’s far too early to determine if making ally’s is a good idea, but you would rather not have enemies. “You didn’t answer my question by the way” she says putting a hand on her hip. You sigh “Listen, you seem nice, you really do, but I'm not here to make friends.” “Sooo, medical bills?” You glance away from her “my son’s” “aww” she coo’s looking excited. “What is he like?” You resist the urge to tell her every little detail about him. For his curl to the mole on the top left of his forehead to his favorite color, he looks so much like your wife, nothing like you, nothing like your father and you love it. “He’s 4” is all you say to her. Even as she starts pestering you for more details.

Thankfully you're free from the red hard women, is constant pestering. Only to be placed next to a short man with black straight black hair, 376 smiles at you, just as friendly as the other contestants. “I overheard your conversation with Daphne! You don’t look like the family man type” you just stare at him, “I’m here for gambling debt actually, I know, I know. Oh he’s a gambling addict, he’s probably going to spend all his winnings! Heard that a million times over!” You start to tone him out as he talks about his life story. Only for 421, 176 and 321 to join in the conversation, or well up until then a one sided conversation.

The first game is simple red light green light, it shouldn’t be too hard. Then again they might want to trim the crowd as much as possible in the first game. You wonder what the most people to be killed in the first round is. But that’s not important right now, what is moving to the next round. You all run and freeze as soon as the giant creepy statue turns around. Well almost all of you, someone doesn’t stop in time, and is instantly shot dead. There it is, the kicker, several people scatter in a panic. But not you, you don’t move, standing perfectly still, you’re expression stone cold as the people around you drop like flies. Then the machine turns around again, you instantly start running. Everyone left standing finally gets it, finally realized, this is a death game. You run, you freeze, you run again, people die around you, so many people. Finally you make it to the end, just barely missing the robot’s eyes.

“THE FIRST PERSON TO PASS THE FINISH LINE IS NUMBER 7!”

Tim stares in horror, “is that?” “Oh? Are you curious about number 7?” One of the organizers asks Tim, seeing his curiosity. They then pull up their file, their older siblings file, he hears them say your name “Greenwood” the last name is different. But that’s unmistakably you, “there in 1.3 million dollars in debt, filed for bankruptcy the day before they left for the games. Most of it is going to medical bills to pay for their son Cecil Greenwood’s medical bills.” Tim just stares. He feels sick, he never liked them, no one in the family did. Their mother’s a traitor who can’t even be bothered to take her own spawn with her when she robed Bruce. But that didn’t mean he wished for this to happen to them, he didn’t want them to go into so much debt they needed to do this. He was aware they called Bruce not that long ago, was it about this? Did he even know? Bruce looked angry afterwards, sure he disowned them all but legally. But would he really abandon them when they needed him most? Would he? God, he hoped they caught all of that from his wire and camera.

Bruce felt his blood run cold, replaying the conversation from that day over and over again in his mind. He was sitting in his office, the anxiety of the case eating at his mind. This was something kept tightlipped even in high society, you also had been trying to call him for the past hour. It was starting to piss him off, what in god's name could you of all people want. Finally he answered the phone “what do you want” “I-“ you paused, hesitating. “Well?” He said impatiently, he wanted to get this over with, wanted to continue pretending that you and your mother never existed. A mother who he lived so dearly, who he was engaged too, who he was willing to give up being Batman for. Who one day took seven million dollars and ran, leaving him with a broken heart and a 3 month old baby. “I need money” you finally say, and Bruce saw red. He thought he raised you better than that, sure you still ran, abandoned the family. But asking him for money? After what your mother did? “It’s for my-“ but he didn’t want to hear your excuses, you being just as greedy as her. “Of course this is what you would call me for” “what-“ “you’re just like your mother” “NO WAIT IT'S FOR MY-“ and then he hung up. Yes after the call he regretted comparing you to your mother. That was cruel of him, he will admit, he knows you like her just about as much as he does and being compared to her must hurt. But he didn’t want to apologize, didn’t want to admit he was in the wrong.

If he had called back had listened to you when you needed help. He has a grandson, a grandson and he’s sick. He could help but he- he can help- he will help “Dick” Nightwing turns to look at him “me?” “Oracle and Tim are too busy to look into them, the others are taking on less important cases, so it’s your job.” Dick sighs, but looks equally as shaken up as Bruce feels. He quickly starts typing into that batcomputer, Bruce wants to punch a wall. To go in there and take the operation down this instant, but it’s far too early for that. If they go in too soon they’ll lose everything, but too late… he doesn’t want to think about it.

206 people, that’s how many are left, two hundred and six people. That a little over half of the people killed, everyone is shaken up, everyone but you. One of the people walks up at you and grabs your shirt. “YOU KNEW!” 423 screams in your face shaking you, all you do is stare down at him. What you want to do is cry but you don’t, weakness in a game like this will get you killed. “YOU ARE SO CALM! YOU KNEW! ARE YOU IN ON IT!” “Calm down” you say slowly, quickly grabbing 423’s wrist. “CALM DOWN!” “I thought the nature of this game was obvious.” Is all you say. “OBVIOUS!” Another person screams, “of course, then again I am from Gotham, stuff like this is normal” “BITCH IM FROM BLÜDHAVEN!” Another screams, more people are getting angry, and closer to you. So, this is how you die, but before things can get violent a shot is hard. One of the guards shot at the ceiling, “ATTENTION EVERYONE” the scream standing to attention. “WE WILL NOW BE DOING A VOTE! MAJORITY RULES!” Two buttons emerge from the ground, one red, one green with a screen at the front lighting up to show the same thing with the number 0 on each side. “GREEN MEANS THE GAMES CONTINUE RED MEANS THEY STOP! EACH OF YOU WILL LINE UP IN NUMERICAL ORDER!” The two of you are quickly separated and your lead to the front of the line.

You're the highest number alive, the first choice is yours, it’s a no brainer. “WHAT THE FUCK!” One of them screams and you sigh “WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO CONTINUE THIS” you look at the crowd and glare. “I don’t want this money for me” you begin, “It’s for my son, so he can live, so he can be safe, so he can know joy, I’m willing to die for that. I’ve accepted this, I’m ready to die here for the slim chance that he can be safe. I’m willing to die for the people I love, so they get to live a better life. I don’t give a shit about what happens to the rest of you!” You huff walking over to your bunk and sitting down, you watch as one after another each person walks up and presses the button. The air is tense as it goes, red, red, red, green, red, red, green, green over and over. Until finally, finally the number shows up, Green 105 Red 101, the games continue.

Tim feels sick, in a sense it’s almost honorable how willing you are to die for your son. A type of honor, loyalty he never expected from you, but it’s awful how willing you are to throw yours and others lives away just for a slim possibility of his safety. With that, with the collective despair of the crowd the feed ends. He just stares at we’re you were on screen, sitting there calm and collected. A stoic visage that only Bruce can rival. You almost looked like him throughout the whole thing. The chatter of all those around him felt sickening, they were enjoying it, putting bets on who dies. He wants to throw up, even with all his training, even with the job’s he’s done, this is sickening.

The hospital is okay, it isn’t the best in the city but it’s not the worst. It didn’t take long for Dick to find this place, once he got ahold of your credit records he found that most of your money for the past 4 years was sent here. Bruce can’t help but feel it should be better, but with what they could find this is the best you could do. Even that might not have lasted long “Hi! Welcome to Gotham General Children’s Hospital!” The woman at the desk says then her face drops. “Mr. Wayne! What are you-“ “I’m here to visit Cecil Greenwood” she continues to look at him shocked and confused, “he’s my grandson” “he’s your..” the woman looks like she’s still calculating what he’s saying. “Okay.. you just need to sign in” the security here is shit, he signed in quickly and didn’t even need to prove he was telling the truth.

Dick is already investigating your apartment, looking for anything. They already have every person that’s in the game listed as a missing person, you included. “Why are you here sir?” The nurse asks, he sighs “their parent was reported missing and they can’t get ahold of the kids' mother. So I was called as the next of kin.” The woman licks her teeth clearly concerned. “Did you know about him?” Bruce shakes his head “not until earlier today” he hasn’t lied once in this conversation. “I see.. well.. it’s a lot” she says and then begins leading him to the room.

She lightly knocks on the door “Cecil, honey, you have a visitor” and then she opens it. There sitting on the bed, covered in wires and a ventilator is a small child, much too small to be 4 years old. He blinks up at them with tired brown eyes, and a mop of curly black hair on his head. A small hand rubs his eyes clearly having been taken a nap, “hee?” The kid blinks, squinting at him. “I’ll leave you two alone” the nurse says and then leaves, awful security. Then again, even removing one thing will instantly alert the staff. Cecil still looks at him confused “Hey kiddo” he says softly pulling up a chair and sitting down. The kid just stares “who are you?” He says each word slowly and deliberately. He smiles at him “I’m your Grandpa” it feels weird saying that, not wrong, just strange. The kid just continues to stare at him “you’re a lot younger than I expected” is all he says, Bruce chuckles at that “oh?” He nods. “Baba says you might come next week” the boy says seriously, that makes Bruce concerned. Is he? Did they? That’s something to look into later.

“Did they now?” “Ya! Baba go brrr!” He says happily, “what?” “Brrrrrr!” He claps his hands and giggles. Clearly making a joke only he can understand, “I see, you saw your baba earlier then?” “Ya ya!” He continues to clap. “Yesterday! Baba says you come if mama can’t! Do you know we’re mama is?” Cecil asks his smile not leavening, Bruce in fact does know. An apartment in Metropolis, a nice place with two bedrooms, a safe neighborhood, far away from the both of you. Like father like child it seems, the both of you sure know how to pick them. But he doesn’t want to tell the kid that “no” is all he says, the kid just starts. He expects a temper tantrum, but instead all he gets is an “okay!” As he happily flaps his arms around. “It’s okay! Baba doesn’t know either! But we got pictures!” He says happily, “oh you do?” He then drops his arms, smile slightly falling “I mean no, not on me, but they exist!” Bruce hmms. This is going to be a very long conversation. For Bruce at least, kid seems to be having a good time.

Dick stepped into the apartment building, there’s nothing much of note to it. It’s not run down, but there's nothing overly nice about it. He found your apartment with ease, he didn’t even need to pick the lock. He just pushed the door open and it went swinging, that instantly told him a completely different story. The apartment looked long abandoned, there was no peace of furniture to be seen, large amounts of dust already caked over every surface. The only exception being boxes that when he checked were filled with pillows, blankets, clothes and photos of you, your son and your wife. Sometimes all three, other times just two of you. A photo that was taken from your wedding day, a day they never got to see, from Cecil’s birth, to just you and your wife being together, even photos of just your wife. All printed, framed and stuffed away in the boxes.

Sure, it made sense to start packing things away and preparing to leave if you didn’t think you were going to come back. But the apartment has been like this for several months now, more a storage space than a home. He can only imagine what’s been going on in your brain all this time. As he was mulling this over a voice called out “HAY YOU! What are you doing?” Dick turned and saw a short balding man in his late 50’s. He looked at Dick suspiciously, he fully turns to look at the man “I’m looking for my younger sibling, they live here, but well..” he motions towards the everything in your house. “You’re related to the Green kid?” He asked crossing his arms, “yes, they haven’t been responding to any of my calls the last few days. I was getting worried so I came here to check on them.” The man just shrugs, which would be completely unhelpful under normal circumstances. “Sorry man, can’t help you there ever since the Mrs. left they're barely here. If they are it’s only for a few hours. Honestly why they still live here is a mystery to me.” Then they just leave, great complete unhelpful with him trying to understand more about you. Just great, now he’s going to have to talk to more people.

Day two starts with a meal, you sit by yourself, the mood having completely changed. They get it now everyone is on edge, everyone is like you. Well almost everyone, 376 walks up to and sits down next to you. You barely glance at him, continuing to quietly eat your meal “this shit looks like something they would serve at high school!” He says playfully elbowing you. It does? Hu, you thought she was just exaggerating, perks of going to the private school in the city. God you miss your wife, will you ever see her again? Hear her laugh, see her smile, the dimples on her cheeks, the way her hand felt in yours, how she beat a man half to death for making fun of you. 376 is staring at you, was he talking to you? Did he ask you something? “I miss my wife Tails” you say looking at him “what-“ you then turn back to your food “I miss her a lot” you then take a bite of bread. He looks away awkwardly, and then back at you “you uuu, are really passionate about winning” “yes, let me guess you voted to end this?” “Yes” “well” you pat him on his back, “every man for themselves” and going back to eating.

Only to discover it was a team game, fuck. A simple game of capture the flag, the losing team is killed, completely not playing, you're killed. Seriously, is the Joker involved in this? Whatever, you roll up the sleeves of your tracksuit and put on your team's colored bandanna it’s time to get this started. A part of you felt bad seeing 376 on the other side, it’s a shame he has to die. A shame any of them have to die.

Tim watched what quickly devolved into a bloody battle, anxiety turning in his gut. He did his best to watch every movement you made in the crowd. Several people on both sides having been killed by other players, both by accident and on purpose. He watched as you stabbed a man’s eyes out with your own fingers before leaving him there, joining several of your own teammates in infiltrating the enemy lines. It wasn’t you who got the flag to the other side, he wanted to scream when he heard the game was over. So focus on you he didn’t see who won, only for it to turn into instant relief as he saw it was your team that reached victory. Then horror as each member of the losing team, even those that had switched bandannas with the dead was taken, lined up, blindfolded with their own bandanna and shot in the head. One by one, as the winning team was made to watch. So concerned with your own safety he didn’t even check which team their spy was on.

“What” Jason began “the fuck” Stephane looked at the screen in horror, even after the video had long gone dark. Of course as vigilantes everyone in the Bat’s and Bird’s had seen bloodshed, had seen civilians mob. But something about this felt different, maybe it was the elites, gossiping and putting bets on the civilians forced into this game. A type of dehumanizing Tim was clearly blocking out in favor of making sure you were safe. Maybe it was the fact that their own members were in this danger. But whatever it was, it felt wrong “we need to do something now” Jason says turning to Bruce. He shakes his head “we can’t” “BULLSHIT” “Jason!” Bruce almost glares at his son. “We don’t have enough information, we don’t even know we’re the civilian’s are being held right now. If we rush in we could lose all of them, every single one” Jason glares at him and scoffs looking away. Stephane puts a hand on his shoulder and gently squeezes it, looking just as uncomfortable with this situation that he feels.

You don’t sleep a wink that night, you’ve never done that before. It felt wrong, so very wrong, you can still feel the squelch of number 217 ‘s green eyes on your thumbs. One of the people who didn’t like you after the events of the previous nights wanted to get rid of you during the free for all. You could barely call any of that a team game. No one was working together, just trying to live and steal. The third day you were dead tired, 376 wasn’t there, would never be there. Now that you think about it, you never learned his name. Adrenaline was the only thing preventing you from passing out. At least you think that’s what’s happening, it feels like a blur, everything does. But this is all for Cecil, if not then why are you here? What was the point of all of this? Was there ever a point? Maybe you should just kill yourself- no Cecil needs to live. That’s the whole point of your existence up until now, making sure your baby is happy and as healthy as he can be.

This is for Cecil

When the group is being brought to a new location a hand touches your shoulder, you quickly turn around and see 123. Looking at her shocked and confused you say “you’re alive??” The woman just blinks at you. “Yes, yes I am” she says looking confused “you thought I died?” “Yes” is all you say, the two of you just continue to stare at each other, awkwardly. Seriously, what are you supposed to say to this woman? “Okay” you give her a thumbs up and a pat on the arm, “good talk” then turn away. You can still feel her eyes staring into your back, what is this woman’s deal?? She’s starting to freak you out. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry!

The guards lead you all to a different area, this place vastly different then the warehouse the rest seemed to be in. Aka they literally took you outside in the dark for some reason, once again they split you into two albeit uneven groups. You being with the smallest of the groups, very confused as you’re handed a knife, every member of your group is. 423 who is still alive and with your group looks at the guards, “what’s preventing us from attacking you with these?” The guard cocks the gun and points it at his face. He instantly backs off, “Today everyone!” A guard calls out, “The game will be playing is Man Hunt!” Oh shit.

Tim stares at the screen eyes wide, “oh shit” he wanted to leave right now, to go in there and stop this. “Each of are 10 contestants here” he motioned to the group you’re a part of, “will have 30 minutes to hunt and kill three other contestants of their choice! Of course the other contestants have the ability to fight back and kill the hunters! It’s not a fun game if they're completely helpless! If they fail to complete such a simple task, well… you all already know what’s going to happen.” They say cheerily. “Well” Ra’s the mother fucker, says clearly intrigued. “I’m sure this is going to be an interesting game” please, please Bruce, B please find them. Don’t let them become a murderer.

This is for Cecil, this is for Cecil, this is for Cecil, this is for Cecil, that’s all that’s going through your head as you watch the head start the others are given. This is what you thought the games would be, everyone killing each other for the amusement of whoever’s watching. Kinda like the hunger games, but in reality no matter how much you prepared to take a life, doing so was much harder. If you kept telling yourself why you’re here, why you’re doing what you’re doing, will it be easier? Hopefully it will, because that’s all you have most days, hope. “Excuse me?” One of the other contestants asks “can hunters kill other hunters” . The guards looked at each other and then one of them called someone. By the end of it the guard turned to look at them, “I don’t see why not” you had a bad feeling about this.

Tim gripped the arm of his seat as he watched the hunters run off. Please B, please, suddenly he got a ping on his hidden earpiece and Oracle’s voice rings through it “I found the location”

“FUCK” another Hunter screams falling to the ground, you watch as he curls up into a ball and sobs. “I can’t do this- I can’t- I don’t-“ a part of you finds it pathetic how willing they are to give up like this. But another part of you gets it, you don’t want to kill either. If this was you when you were younger, before you had Cecil, before you met your wife, you would be doing the exact same thing as him. But that’s not you, the person willing to sit and wait for someone to save you. Not anymore, there’s really only one thing you can do. You stab him in the neck, his eyes widen and blood sprays covering your hands. A gross feeling coils in your stomach, but you have to press on. You’re putting him out of his misery, if he didn’t participate he was going to die either way. Better he die contributing to your own survival then in vain.

You pull the knife out and watch it fall to the ground with a thunk, bloods everywhere, on the ground, on your hands, running down his neck. With a shaky breath you turn around and continue in your hunt. The cold wind sends chills through your body and quickly cooling the blood. Wading through the grass and bushes, careful and quiet. It was admittedly difficult, having no idea how to deal with forests. In fact you didn’t find your next target, they found you. Well technically it was 423, seriously what’s this guys deal? Sure he wasn’t the person who asked, but he seems dead set on killing you. For some god forsaken reason.

He didn’t even give you a chance to speak instantly lunging for you. Dodging out of the way, all that happened was the knife grazing your skin. Leaving a bleeding slash against your shoulder, grunting you spin around and stab them in the back, pulling the knife out. The two of you quickly start exchanging blows, both from your knifes and your own hands. Finally you’re able to kick him to the ground and stab him in the chest, he coughs and grunts in pain. “How do you sleep at night?” he coughs out “let me guess, next to your wife?” Blood trickles down his lips, you don’t dignify him with a response. “Holy shit-“ he practically laughs out “she left you didn’t she? Serves you right you cold hearted bitch-“ you stab him again, this time in the heart and with no remorse. Standing up and kicking the corpse you grunt a little, stumbling slightly. Time for number three.

Signal and several members of the Justice League kick down the door. Tim turns to face them with a smile on his face as he waves, the others around him panic, except Ra’s. Like he knew what was coming, seriously what’s this guy's deal. “Glad to see you could make it!” He calls out, “you-“ one of the Owl members began, “you're a spy?!” He gives them a finger gun, “guilty!” He then stands up and turns to Signal as a mass arrest begins. “Now, are we going next?”

Continuing your hunt something felt wrong, maybe you’re running out of time? No that can’t be, they’ve been regularly calling out the time since this started. Something changed, something you’re not aware of. “7” you whip your head around and point your knife towards the voice. There is 123, why do people keep approaching you? Why is she approaching you? She’s a part of the prey group, unless she thinks she can take you, which scary. But then again not that hard, “you seem confused” “ya no shit, why did you approach me?” She takes a step forward. “How many people have you already killed?” Is all she asks, you tilt your head watching her for any sudden moments. “2” then you lunge at her, only to swiftly be kicked down and pinned on your stomach. The knife is thrown away from you and she pins your hands behind your back. You’re not even mad, it’s a part of the rules. It’s upsetting, this is how you die, but you already accepted you might die in these games.

Quietly waiting for death, you are rudely interrupted from your fate by the true reason you felt uneasy. Mother fucking Batman appears in front of you, cape bellowing as he does. “Starfire” he nods in greeting, “Batman” 123 says, nodding back, holy shit she’s Starfire, holy shit you tried to kill Starfire. Why is Starfire here??? “Get off of them” she stands up, “I’ll go find the others!” And is off. You scramble to stand up, almost tripping as you do so. “We’re going home” “what?” Is all you can say, you’re body shaking, “this operation-“ “you knew?” You’re voice is weak, hands balling into fists. “We’ve been planning this raid since the game-“ “YOU KNEW!” You scream, tears falling down your eyes. “I KILLED PEOPLE BRUCE! I KILLED AND HURT PEOPLE IN THIS GAME FOR WHAT!” He slowly approaches you. “FOR NOTHING! BECAUSE YOU WERE GOING TO SHOW UP AND STOP ALL THIS” he opens his mouth “NO- SHUT UP DON’T SPEAK!” He’s standing in front of you now. Taking your fists you punch him and n the chest over and over “I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!” Again and again you punch and scream. Intel eventually you can’t anymore “I hate you… I hate you!” You’re body, so exhausted from everything that’s happened finally gives out. You feel like a child as he grabs your collapsing form, it’s humiliating. “I hate you!” You choke out, “let’s go home” is all he says, like you’re nothing more then a toddler throwing a temper tantrum. With a shaky breath and sob your picked up “we’re Cecil?” “I moved him to the best hospital in the city yesterday, don’t worry” you sniffle “I want to see him” “soon” is all he says. You give him one last weak punch before everything goes black.

��—————

Reader towards their wife: Once we’re undoomed from the narrative the marriage is BACK ON!

There was another version of this fic we’re Dick finds are Wife and then the two go on a road trip to save Reader’s sorry ass. It ends with both of them at the manor in Reader’s old room. There’s also another version of this fic we’re both reader and wife are in the games. Sadly neither of them came to fruition. Maybe if I make a sequel it will be more Wife focused, because god do I love that woman.

Bruce: you’re wife left you like your mother left me

Reader:

Reader: >:(

Bruce: This is supposed to be a bonding moment, why are you attacking me?

#batfam x reader #platonic batfam #x gender neutral reader #x reader #neglected reader #Squid games AU

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lowkeyerror · 10 months ago

Text

The Family Business Ch.5

WandaNat x Reader

Work Count: 1.2k

Chapter Notes: Angst, Violence

Summary: The guilt Wanda feels for missing your important milestones boils over and you're left trying to comfort her.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Dinner was over, but the chatter continued. Wanda had snuck off to the restroom somewhere amidst the conversation. Once she had finished up, she couldn’t fight the urge to go into her old room.

It was exactly the same as she left it. The light blue walls were littered with her old posters. Her bed still had a few old stuffed animals on it. Her desk was covered with post it notes, she used for keeping track of her important things.

Had she grown more than she had realized in the last five years? Was it selfish to assume that you wouldn't have?

“Something’s bothering you.”

Wanda startles at the sound of your voice. You stand in her doorway.

“Nothing, Y/n.”

You don't believe her.

You close the door behind you and fully step into her room. “You were quiet the entire dinner.”

“I was thinking,” she replied shortly.

“About what?”

She takes a seat on her bed and exhales, “A lot has changed since I’ve been away.”

You take a seat next to her, “You were gone for awhile.”

Her eyes meet yours, “I didn’t want to be. I didn't want to miss everything.”

She began to tear up. You hadn’t seen Wanda like this before. Wanda never let anyone see her be vulnerable. Her head rests on your shoulder, and she grabs one of your hands, seeking some comfort.

“Wanda it’s alright,” you try but she cuts you off.

“It’s not, I missed your graduation,” she began to sob.

You begin to internally panic, but you have enough sense to know that this is about more than your graduation. Your arms wrap around her, pulling her closer to you. She ends up straddling your lap. Her forehead lays against yours. You do your best to wipe her tears away.

“Forgive me, Y/n. Forgive me,” her cries grow louder.

Hesitantly you grab her face in your hands. Through the tears she sees the look of worry on your face. Wanda starts wiping at the tears with her sleeves.

You stop her, “There’s nothing that you missed that I can’t tell you about now. No one blames you for missing anything. I don’t blame you. I’m just happy you’re back.”

Wanda stops crying. She sniffles a bit with a sad smile on her face, “I remember that night when you came to the door.”

Your breath hitches. Her thumb follows the path on your check where the glass had cut you.

“You were so-”

“Helpless,” you finish.

Wanda shakes her head, “You are so strong. Anyone else wouldn’t have made it to the door. I was going to say you were so pure. The world was so cruel even though you were nothing but a light.”

“Wanda-”

“Now, I’m hearing from everyone how you’re not like that anymore, that you’ve changed. I hate having to find out about you because I should know. My wife knows about how many people you’ve killed, and I didn’t even know you had fired a gun. I hate that it feels like I don’t know you anymore.”

You were taken aback by her words. Even with her being away for 5 years, you felt like she knew you better than anyone; even Pietro. Wanda had such a deep understanding of your inner workings that it scared you a lot of the time.

It took little effort to interlock your fingers with hers. You wait for her to look at you and when she does you speak, “You know me better than anyone ever has.”

“I used to,” she tries to drop your hands.

You don’t let her, “I can’t say that I haven’t changed at all, but I’m still me Wanda. I still watch reality tv as a guilty pleasure, I still eat my cheese puffs with a fork, and I still get a little antsy in the dark.”

She laughs a bit, and the sound brings a smile to your lips. Your nerves ease as she seems to relax.

“You’re still my little krolik then?”

You blush a little but move her off your lap. You stand and hold out your hand. She doesn’t grab it, instead turning her back towards you.

You roll your eyes, “I’ll always be your little krolik. Now can we go back downstairs.”

Wanda hesitates, “Would you tell me what you told Natasha?”

“About my first kill?”

She nods lightly, “If it’s alright with you.”

You nod and sit at the desk chair across from the bed. It’s not much easier telling Wanda than it was telling Natasha. If anything, it was harder knowing how the woman had reacted in the past when you had been hurt.

“I should’ve known about this,” she’s seething, as she speaks.

“You had just lef-”

“I don’t care if the plane was mid fucking flight! I would’ve turned that bitch around!”

Before you could try to de-escalate the situation Pietro came into the room. “Is everything alright in here, you’ve been up here for a long time?”

Wanda jumps out of the bed and grabs the man by his collar. She nearly lifts him in the air, then beats on his chest. She’s moved him from the room to the hallway., You’re too stunned to intervene.

“WHY DIDN’T ANYONE TELL ME? NO ONE THOUGHT TO CALL ME? SOME JERK FELT HER UP AND SHE SNAPPED HIS FUCKING NECK AND NO ONE THOUGHT TO CALL ME?”

Pietro remains calm, his hands rest on top of hers “Wanda it was nearly 5 years ago.”

“So why is this the first time I'm hearing of it?” The drop in her voice snaps you out of your trance.

“Wanda put him down,” Dragos voice booms in the hallway.

She let Pietro go and instead redirects her glare to her father, “Why didn't you tell me?”

“Because I knew you'd react like this. You’ve always been able to handle your emotions unless Y/n was involved,” his words only seem to anger her more.

“I’m the one that can't handle my emotions when it comes to Y/n? Are we sure about that? Because if you want to play ball I will swing for the fucking fences,” she combats quickly.

You watch as the color drains from Pietro’s face and even Dragos seems to stand down a bit.

“Wanda.” Natasha’s voice is strong as she speaks, “Let’s go, ok? I think everyone just needs a little space right now.”

Wanda doesn't seem like she’s done with the conversation.

“Y/n, sweetheart I think they're staying in your building. Why don't you take them there,” Flora suggests.

You nod, unable to speak at the moment. You can see Wanda about to argue again so you slip your hand in hers. You don’t waste time pulling her towards the stairs. Natasha holds her other hand, clearing some of the tension from her system.

You get in the drivers seat while Natasha sits in the back with Wanda. Your brain was slightly clouded as her words sat with you. Wanda knew something that made Pietro and Dragos cower in regard to you. You wanted to press on, but you knew she was in no shape to answer.

Glancing at her in the rearview mirror, you could see that Natasha was whispering to her, trying to calm her. You’d never known Wanda to have a temper, but apparently, when it came to you her rage seemed unrelenting.

Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick @sgm616 @bstvst

#lowkeyerror #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #wandanat x reader #wandanat

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axiina · 1 year ago

Note

PLSSS soft corio comforting reader after they get he saves her(or them idm) from the arena after she tried to say a proper goodbye to her tribute (kinda like sejanus) but maybe she gets hurt and super traumatized but hes there for her idk

If I Killed Someone for You

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x capitol!reader (gender neutral)

Summary: It wasn't supposed to end this way. You just wanted to say goodbye to your tribute, Lamina. Luckily, your boyfriend was there and made sure you didn't get hurt. Just why do you look at him differently now?

Words: 1.5k

Themes: hurt with comfort, a bit of fluff but also angst

Warnings: slight spoilers to movie and book, small changes to canon, Pup isn't Lamina's mentor, character's death, murder, a bit of trauma, blood, comforting, a bit of argument, death, overthinking, reader feels guilty about situation, referring reader as 'you'

Author's note: Lamina deserved better so you are her mentor, fuck this idiot Pup.

It was supposed to be fluff, but it came out a bit sad and traumatic. We got a soft Coriolanus, leaving aside the fact that he killed someone in the process. Enjoy!!

It was a pure act of desperation.

You just wanted to tell Lamina what you hadn't managed to do before. You had grown close to the young girl, who was horrified by what was happening. The very fact that she was in the arena, alone, without any support was driving you crazy.

She didn't deserve what happened to her. You hoped that maybe Lamina would be able to win and would be able to return home to the family she missed so much.

With each hour of the Hunger Games, her chances seemed to get smaller and smaller. For those few days, you sat like you were on pins and needles staring at the big screen at the Academy. After a while, the helplessness returned and you had to try not to cry in front of the cameras.

Lamina did not deserve it. None of the tributes deserved it. You did everything you could to make Lamina feel as comfortable as possible during the meetings and her stay at the Capitol. In the arena, you tried your best to make sure she wasn't hungry or thirsty. You didn't want her to get hurt. That, however, was not enough. Seeing a boy from her district, Treetch, joining another group made you feel anxious.

"What if they kill her? What if he betrays her…" This thought ran through your head repeatedly like a mantra.

She became weaker and weaker every day.

Your last meeting was too short. You didn't have time to say goodbye to her properly. You wanted her to know that even though you were physically somewhere else, your heart and thoughts were with her, at the arena. You had to say goodbye to her. You wouldn't forgive yourself if Lamina died without hearing a proper goodbye.

That's why you decided to see her one last time. Under cover of darkness, you crept into the arena in disguise and quietly snuck under the beam where Lamina was. Perhaps foolish and reckless, but you didn't think about the consequences. Ever since the girl got to the arena you couldn't find a place. You slept only short naps and didn't even want to meet Coriolanus, who was getting more and more worried about you.

While you were at the arena, every now and then you looked nervously around to the sides to see if anyone was coming. Lamina was surprised when you showed up. It was all surreal and you felt as if you were detached from reality. As soon as you saw Lamina you started crying. You both cried. Now the knowledge of how dangerous the arena was came to you like a powerful punch. She can't die. You don't remember what exactly you told her. You don't know if you said anything that made sense to her at all. The adrenaline made your mind kind of foggy. However, you know that it lifted her spirits. She knew you were with her and supporting her. You don't know exactly how much you were in the arena.

Everything happened so fast when Coriolanus grabbed your arm. Your brain didn't even register the fact that the boy appeared there practically out of nowhere. He looked terrified. He spoke quickly and incoherently. You only understood as he begged you to run away from there, because at any moment someone might come out of the tunnels and kill you. You were frozen with panic when it came to you. They hate the Capitol. They hate you too, and they certainly wouldn't think twice before killing you. Your fear was increased when Lamina's eyes widened in horror and only one word came out of her mouth.

Run.

Tributes began to leave the tunnels. As soon as they noticed that there were two mentors in the arena they started running towards you. Because of the adrenaline in your veins, you don't remember much of what happened next. You and Coriolanus ran as fast as you could when Coral, Mizzen, Tanner and Bobbin chased you while holding objects in their hands that could be the cause of your upcoming death.

The next scene that stuck in your mind was when your boyfriend hit one of the tributes on the head with a wooden plank. The boy fell down, and Coriolanus, without thinking much, hit him a second time. Then another and another. You looked at the body of Bobbin lying lifeless and Snow standing over him, unable to get a single word out. Your heart was raging and your head was spinning, feeling fear. You were terrified.

You couldn't tell what was the reason. The fact that you had just nearly died in the arena, or…. no, it couldn't have been that. He was merely trying to defend you. Yes, that was definitely the reason. Coriolanus is not a murderer, he was just…. he was terrified and acted emotionally. Bobbin would have killed him if Coryo hadn't done it first. Then you would have been next in line. Yes, that's what would have happened.

Both of you were injured, but at that moment it didn't even cross your mind to ask him how he was feeling. The Peace Keepers almost carried you out of there. Your parents were as terrified as you were. By the time you were sitting in your room wrapped in a blanket as your mother hugged you crying something finally hit you. You could have died. Your family would have been devastated. Your friends and…Coriolanus. Well, exactly, Coriolanus. He almost died because of your fault. Your stupidity and recklessness. Now he is injured and probably suffering, and you are not there with him. After what happened you didn't even say a stupid thank you to him.

"What were you even thinking! You could have died there! Did you even think about your loved ones? About me? What would have happened to me if you had died there? If I didn't get there in time!" Coriolanus repeated walking in circles around the empty classroom, the next morning. You had your head bent down, and tears were running down your cheeks. How could you do something like that?

Coriolanus sighed and sat down next to you, wrapping his arms around your body, pulling you closer.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't yell like that. You're probably still terrified. I was just…scared. I was scared that I would lose you."

It seemed to you that his voice cracked as the boy pressed his cheek against your head.

"Don't do that again. Don't scare me like that. If you had died I wouldn't have forgiven myself. I wouldn't be able to live normally." He whispered in your ear with a trembling voice.

"I'm here, love. I will always be until you have had enough of me. Although, most likely, even then I won't give you a break." A quiet, slightly trembling chuckle left his lips, at which you also smiled involuntarily.

"Enough of you? Never." you replied in an amused voice gently pulling away, but still remaining in his embrace. "I'm sorry, Coryo…I'm so terribly sorry for you. I just wanted to say goodbye to Lamina. I don't want anything bad to happen to her. I don't want her-"

"Shhh, it's okay." Coriolanus rested his forehead against yours and took your face in his hands gently stroking your cheeks. "It is past. The most important thing is that we came out of it alive. Lamina is also alive and relatively well, excluding the circumstances."

"Thank you, Coryo. Thank you for everything. For saving me that night and that you do not resent me for it." You whispered, trying not to cry. You nuzzled your cheek into his palm and placed a gentle kiss on it.

Coriolanus' face moved closer to yours and he gently brushed your lips with his own as if he was afraid he would frighten you.

"I am angry at you. Earlier even furious, but I love you too much to stay mad at you." Coryo gently rubbed his nose against yours and looked into your eyes.

His beautiful blue eyes. Cold, but at the same time it makes you feel at home. Eyes that yesterday were raging and at one point…full of hatred.

Your smile slowly disappeared as you remembered what happened to Bobbin.

"Do you want to talk about what happened yesterday-" you started uncertainly, but Coriolanus cut you off.

"No." His voice seemed cold and in a moment you were embarrassed and your heart beat faster. You were the reason he had to do it, and now you're reminding him of it. Maybe he thinks you are blaming it on him.

Your thoughts, however, were interrupted by your boyfriend's voice. Softer this time.

"I didn't mean to. I didn't want to do it, but it was stronger than me…Please don't hate me. I love you and I did it for you too."

His eyes were glassy and he seemed panicked. You shook your head in denial and took his hand in yours bringing it close to your lips and kissed his knuckles.

"No, you're a good person, Coryo. Nothing has changed. I continue to love you, and you only proved me during the night that I couldn't find a better one."

Coriolanus wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead.

"You know you don't have to…you don't have to be afraid of me. I wouldn't hurt you. Never."

You froze for a brief moment. It was as if he was reading your mind. How could you think that about him? He saved you. If not for him, you would be dead.

It was stronger than that. When he approached you this morning your heart was beating faster and a chill went through your body.

"It's because I love him. Typical reaction" You repeated to yourself in your mind.

Every time you felt his hands stroking your hair while you were hugging, you thought about how tightly he gripped that wooden plank with which he cracked the head of the boy in the arena. How the blood spurted onto his snow white shirt from his school uniform. And those eyes. The eyes that always made you feel butterflies in your stomach, and then they seemed so unfamiliar. You thought about how later after the situation at the arena, he tried to approach you, and you took a step back with your eyes wide open in horror.

Of course, he knew. You don't need to read minds to know that. And he was intelligent. He knew right away.

"I know, I know, Coryo. It's just…" you knew that if you continued your voice would break. Besides, you didn't know what to say. You snuggled into his neck hugging him more tightly at the waist. You don't want to hurt him with such thoughts, but they are so intrusive. You can't get them out of your head despite his reassurances, affectionate words and gentle touch. "I'm sorry, I should be there for you, and I'm making everything worse."

You whispered soaking the collar of his shirt with your tears.

His hand went to your hair gently stroking it.

"Stop, it's not your fault."

You stayed like that in each other's embrace, in silence. Words are not important now. What is important is that you are together and nothing will change that.

He will not hurt you. Yes, he won't hurt you.

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #coriolanus snow #tbosas #coriolanus x you #thg x reader #hunger games x reader #character x reader #x you #x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow fic

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mysunshinetemptress · 4 months ago

Text

F.R.E.U.N.D.E

Lil McCabe universe

Leah Williamson x Ex-McCabeReader

Georgia Stanway x Reader

Warnings: it’s short, unbelievably short but I’ve got writers block and I feel guilty for not posting so here you go.

“F.R.E.U.N.D.E.”

You hadn’t posted since before Leah’s birthday and now here you were multiple photos of you in a Bayern Munich uniform, your photos featuring the same players.

Mary Earps

Pernille Harder

Magdalena Eriksson

Georgia Stanway, G.

You were friends with Georgia. Leah’s Georgia. The Georgia you had been dying to meet but Leah had pushed it off time and time again.

Now you couldn't help but wonder if Leah had intentionally kept you apart from Georgia. No now you knew she had intentionally kept you apart from her friends. You had once though that maybe she just wanted to keep you all to herself, that she wanted to stay in a little bubble. Or perhaps she simply didn't want to introduce you to her friends until she was sure about your relationship. But now you knew it was because none of it was real, why would she introduce her best friends to a girl she was simply using.

Leah scrolls back and forth between the photos.

You squeezed in between Magda and Pernille.

You sitting beside Georgia your head resting on her shoulder as you both laughed.

You sitting beside Magda in a coffee shop across from Gerogia and Pernille.

You and Mary in Dublin, your faces on a pint of Guinness.

A candid shot from just after a match, you smiling admiring Magda as Pernille does the same to you.

You're happy. You're seen and Leah can't help but feel her heart break, they were what you desereved but she wanted to be what you deserved too.

She knew she couldn't undo the past, but she wanted to be apart of your life, she loved loves you.

Leah had tried to reach you, especially after she found out you were leaving Arsenal, leaving England, but your inbox had become full from the many voice messages she had left and you had blocked her number shortly after.

She knew trying to explain herself to you was useless, she didnt deserve to try and explain herself but she wanted needed to know you were ok, You wouldnt answer her, mary wouldnt talk to her, her own mum wouldn't talk about you but Georgia. Georgia was her best friend, Georgia was now friends with you too, Georgia was her way in.

Leah carefully crafted a message, asking how Georgia was beofre asking about you, asking if Georgia could tell you she was asking about you. As she sent it, she hesitated, unsure of what the response would be.

Only Gerogia doesn't reply, she leaves Leah on read. Leah tries again, and again, and again.

Georgia doesn't answer a single text, phone call FaceTime.

Leah watched as the days turned into weeks, each passing moment filled with a growing sense of dread. Georgia's silence was a heavy weight on her heart and with camp approaching she felt helpless as her anxiety grew.

Leah felt ill as she walked around camp, Georgia had been avoiding her at all costs, every time she approached the younger girl she got up and left the room.

Georgia had accomplished avoiding the older girl at every opportunity but training was different, you couldn’t hide at training and Leah decided this was the only chance she was going to have at talking to the younger girl.

Leah spotted Georgia across the field, talking and laughing with Mary. Her heart raced as she approached her. Clearing her throat she tried to muster a smile.

“Georgia” she began, her voice trembling slightly. “I need to talk to you.”

Georgia turned to face her, her expression a mix of confusion and annoyance. “What do you want Leah.”

Leah took a deep breath. “I-I Y/n.”

Georgias eyes narrowed as she walked over shoving the taller girl. “Don’t you dare say her name.”

Leah looked at Georgia her eyes drooping slightly. “You know.”

Georgia let out a sarcastic laugh “of course I know, how could you, I- you didn’t even tell me about her, you didn’t mention her once to me and it broke her heart all over again when she realised that you-you didn’t think enough of her to even tell your best friends about her.”

Leah shook her head. “Georgia I-please, I just want to talk to her. I need to talk to her.”

Georgia pushed Leah again this time causing the captain to stumble and grab the attention of the rest of the lionesses. “I’m not going to help you break her heart again, not when it took her months to talk to me, to-to Magda, to Pernille.”

Leah tried to grab Georgias arm “G please let me explain, I’ll explain everything, I know I’m an idiot but I-I love her.”

Georgia pulled her arm away “ You don’t do something so disgusting as that to someone you love, I love her and that’s why I’m not letting you near her, why I won’t be relying your messages to her, because unlike you I care about her and I’m not letting her heart get broken again.”

Leah felt a hand grab her shoulder turning she looks at Kiera “Come on Le.”

Georgia loves you, she cares about you.

That’s all Leah can think about, her best friend and the girl she messed everything up with.

Leah couldn’t help but flick back to the instagram post zooming in on every photo of you and Georgia together before clicking on Georgias profile and looking at her recent post.

You are in every photo, you’re wrapped up in Georgias arms in every photo.

Leah feels a knot forming in her chest with a question swirling around her head.

You can’t be, surely you can’t be.

But as she looks back at the photo of you and Mary in Dublin she looks for something more, and she finds it.

You’re wearing Georgias jumper, Georgias vintage Bayern Munich Jumper.

Leah’s heart drops. Are you and Georgia dating, Georgia said she cares about you, she even said she loves you. Oh god.

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yeet-the-chair · 21 days ago

Text

The Ghost Next Door

While leaving your room to do laundry, an unfamiliar presence walks out of your neighbors apartment. While you don't recognize him, he definitely recognizes you.

Word count: 1337

Laundry day. It definitely wasn’t your favorite. Having to walk to the laundry room to hopefully find an open machine was such a pain in the ass. But usually, if the people in your apartment complex see a blind girl coming with her arms full, they’ll turn around and give you the open washing machine. Well, you aren’t actually blind. Due to your mutation, you’re able to see the aura that surrounds people. Their emotions and who they are as a person. Along with that, the rest of the world has a blue, hazy outline to it, allowing you to navigate without difficulty.

As you exit your apartment, you hear the door next to yours open as a figure walks out. You expect to see your neighbor, Wade Wilson, but the abhorrent strange aura that surrounds him isn’t what greets you. An intimidating aura walks out of the door, one filled with so much sadness, anger, and hatred. But deep down, you saw good. He has a good heart in him, one that wants to do good.

You noticed, however, that the aura around him had started to change. Instead of the blues and reds you saw before, hues of purples and orange appeared. You could feel him looking at you. He… recognized you? He was so confused, and now you were too. You never forgot someone, even in passing. He probably just thought you were someone else, so you decided to ignore it. Though it continued to nag at you, there was nothing you could do about it, other than go up to him and say ‘hey I know I’m blind but you look like you recognize me.’

Nope, no way. You were just gonna leave it as it is, even if you felt strangely drawn towards him.

…

Logan couldn’t believe his eyes. The minute he walked out of the door and looked at you, it was like seeing a ghost. The last time he saw you was when you laid dead in his arms on the lawn of the mansion. But now, you stand in front of him, or at least a version of you, looking the exact same. There was something different about you, though. You wore red tinted glasses, and looking closer, Logan could see a scar that ran from the outer corner of your left eye, over the bridge of your nose and to your other eye.

“Y/n?” he mumbled out.

It was clear you hadn’t heard him, as you continued walking in the opposite direction. He couldn’t let you go again. He followed after you, speeding up as you entered the elevator, but it closes right as he reaches out. Logan’s breathing gets heavier. He finally gets to see you again, he will not let that chance go. ‘Where could she be?’

It clicks for him. You were holding a laundry basket. He books it to the stairs and races to the laundry room

…

Okay.

There is no way this mysterious man, who just tried to get into your elevator, doesn’t know you. You felt his emotions; recognition, relief, then fear as you disappeared behind the doors. He’s trying to find you, but why?

You began to panic slightly. Sure, you had a mutation, but you had never used it to fight before, never really even thought of it. You sensed the danger before you could even come close to it and found a different path. But now? There is no other path to take. You’re facing it head on whether you want to or not.

As you exit the elevator, you hear the pounding footsteps coming down the stairs, while also feeling the desperation coming from them in waves. They’re almost enough to knock you down but you hold your ground. You almost make it to the laundry room when the stairs exit door slams open a few feet away from you and the man from earlier walks over and reaches to grab your shoulder. Before he can, you turn and grab his wrist, glaring at him the best you could.

“Look,” you began. “I don’t know who you are or how you know me, but let me make one thing clear. I may be blind but I am not completely helpless. I will make you hurt in ways you cannot comprehend. Do you understand?”

Sure, you couldn’t fight, but you could manipulate his emotions to be so painful he feels like he can barely move.

Your threat seems to have fallen on deaf ears as he continues to look at you with so much longing. You can see he is full of love, regret, and despair just by looking at you. You hear him whisper your name, reaching out his other hand to wrap around your waist and hug you. Before he can though you slip out of his hold, releasing his wrist from your grip.

“Don’t touch me.” Hurt. A new emotion made its way into the man's aura, along with anxiety wrapping all other emotions in a rope of grey and blue. You could feel the creep of anxiety begin to crawl up your back, but you pushed it away and pulled out confidence and defiance to take its place.

Standing up straighter, you decided that laundry could wait until later and backed out of the room until you made it out of the door. Once you did, you sped over to the elevator and waited for it to open. The man made no move to follow you, seeming almost paralyzed in shock by what you said. You could feel his anxiety continue to wrap around him, tightening around his other emotions in a knot.

A part of you felt bad. You could feel his emotions as if they were your own, and it hurt. You were mostly numb to feelings others emotions as you dealt with them every day, but every now and them one person's emotions were so strong that you couldn’t completely block them out. It would be so easy to manipulate his emotions, to comfort him and make him less miserable.

But another part of you was afraid. You had no idea who this man was, yet it seemed like he knew you. He knew your name. Was he a stalker? No, he couldn’t be. You would have sensed him, especially with an aura like that. Did you know him when you were younger? Before you were blinded and developed your mutation? It was possible, though he seemed more starstruck than you would expect an old friend to be.

You continued to contemplate as you began to clean your apartment. You tried to focus on your music, on what the lyrics said and the emotion you could feel from them, but your thoughts kept drifting back to him. There was a strange pull to him you could not explain. ‘He terrified me earlier, but what if I really do know him?’

…

“Don’t touch me.”

Those words replayed over and over again in Logan’s mind as he sat in Wade’s apartment. He scared you. You were afraid of him. That isn’t how it’s supposed to be. He should be making you laugh, making you smile. He didn’t want to be the cause of your fear.

But he had to keep reminding himself that this is a different universe. While you looked like the you he knew in his world, the you here was so different. Different backstories, different lives, maybe even a different mutation? You were blind in this world, so did that affect the mutation that you got?

He wanted to learn more about you, but that would have to wait a few days. He needed to figure out how to apologize for his prior behavior and figure out how to explain his actions. Relationships of any kind are built off trust, and while he couldn't tell you the whole truth immediately, he did have to make himself as trustworthy as possible so he could tell you one day.

first time writing lol but ive had this idea for so long that i needed to get it out

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett x you #deadpool #deadpool and wolverine #wolverine #x-men #in another life #in another universe #wrote this instead of sleeping

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the-badger-mole · 6 months ago

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She knows

Zuko had thought his feelings for Katara were his secret. He'd never spoken to anyone about them, and he hadn't been treating her any differently since he'd figured himself out. His feelings were his burden alone, and he intended to keep it that way. Still, she knows ricocheted through his mind. His heart seemed to beat in time to words in his brain as he tried to process everything. The clamoring of the soldiers rushing up the stone stairs; the sound of the stolen air ship coming up behind him; the feel of Katara's lips on his.

Her fingers were clenched tight around the collar of his shirt. Zuko had just come to his senses enough to reach for her waist, intent on pulling her closer, when suddenly Katara shoved him backwards off of the ledge of the broken balcony. An airbender would've caught themselves and vaulted back onto the stone legdge. Zuko was no airbender, though. Their airbender was...someplace else. Zuko wasn't entirely sure of where. So when Zuko landed on the deck of the airship with a bone rattling thump, shock kept him there for the time it took him to refill his lungs. By the time he scrambled to his feet, the ship was already pulling away. Zuko had just enough time to see Katara turn from him to face his father's soldiers. She was outnumbered by at least a dozen, but she stood tall and firm, and even from behind, Zuko could see the determination in her stance. She would fight and die to make sure that he got away safely.

"No!" Zuko shouted. He threw himself at the railing, intent on getting back to her by any means necessary. He would leap from the deck and figure out the rest on his way back. Two sets of strong hands kept him from enacting his plan.

"Let me go!" he demanded pulling against the hold on him. "I'm not leaving her!"

"Zuko!" Sokka shouted. He and Suki pulled hard throwing him against the wall of the ship. "Stop!"

"Turn back!" Zuko half demanded, half pleaded. "We have to go back for her!" He was met with Sokka and Suki's twin grimaces.

"We can't," Suki said, grimly. "We have to get you to safety."

"I don't care about my safety!" Zuko insisted. "I can't leave her behind! Sokka, she's your sister! How can you just-oof!" Sokka's punch didn't hurt so much as it caught Zuko off guard.

"Don't you dare!" Sokka growled. He stood over Zuko, rage radiating from him almost tangibly. "Don't you dare imply I'm not just as worried about Katara as you are. If it wasn't for the fact that we need you to survive the war, I would've thrown you back to them to save her in a heartbeat. But the next best thing I can do is make sure my sister's sacrifice isn't in vain. That mean's getting you to safety and making sure you don't do anything stupid like trying to take on a whole troop of firebending soldiers.

A thousand arguments flew through Zuko's mind. They were superimposed over the image of Katara facing those same solders in his mind. Everything in him was demanding they turn around that instant and rescue Katara. His gambit for the throne was meaningless in comparison to Katara's safety. So what if she had willingly sacrificed herself? So what if he were summarily executed by his father, or even his sister? His own life meant nothing if Katara weren't in it.

Sokka was right, though. Zuko was loathe to admit it, but he was right. Katara knew what she was doing, even if Zuko was certain she didn't understand the full consequence. She'd saved his life. Again. Impotent and helpless as he felt watching her do it, she'd done it willingly. She'd done it strategically. His heart railed against it, but his mind knew why she'd done it. He had the best claim to the throne, after all. They'd talked about it to exhaustion. He'd told Katara all his worries, and she'd calmed them with her certainty that he was the Fire Lord his nation deserved. He'd never gotten the chance to tell her that he though she was the Fire Lady his nation needed, though they didn't deserve her by a long shot. He'd never told her that though he didn't deserve her, he needed her. Like he needed water.

She knew, though. She knew his weakness, and she'd used it. Zuko could still feel the pressure of her lips on his. Could still feel the way her hand tightened on his collar as she prepared to shove him away even while she was pulling him closer. She knew what she could do to him even in the midst of battle.

"They probably won't kill her," Suki said quietly. Both Sokka and Zuko looked up sharply.

"What?" Sokka gasped.

"They probably won't kill her," Suki repeated. "She's too valuable a prisoner. The daughter of the Southern Water Tribe chief? The... the friend of Prince Zuko? She's useful. If she surrenders, she will have a fighting chance." Suki's mouth was pressed into a thin, grim line. She was upset, too, Zuko realized. Maybe almost as upset as Sokka and Zuko were. Only almost, though. Zuko couldn't imagine his future without Katara in it, and Sokka had always been his sister's protector. As Zuko met Sokka's eye across the deck, he knew the Water Tribe warrior had made the same decision he had. If Katara was alive, neither would rest until she was safe again. The details of their rescue mission would have to wait until they could discuss them in private, but they would be going after her.

Part 2

#atla #zutara #zuko and sokka #buddy duo rescue mission #because zuko would never leave her behind or forget that she'd been captured #sokka's not letting this go either #anti maiko #because zuko IN CANON threw himself in harms way for his friends #but he completely forgot mai even existed after TBR #i'd like to use this scene in a fic #i just haven't figured out where to put it yet

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pausgirl33 · 5 months ago

Text

"Bad Day" | Pablo Gavi.

Summary: Since his operation, Pablo has felt quite discouraged and grumpy, and one day he makes the mistake of lashing out at the person who has been most there for him.

Warnings: angst

a/n; it's a little long but hope you enjoy 😬

ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ

A couple of months had passed since Pablo went injured and had to undergo surgery. This left everyone sad, and had obviously caused a complete change in the boy's attitude, clearly for the worse. He looked more down and insecure, even though Xavi and his teammates assured him that he would be fine soon, Pablo still couldn't stop being clouded by bad thoughts.

And since that happened daily, you had been trying to support and be aware of your boyfriend's needs at all times, and added to that, your studies and household chores were exhausting you but you tried to cope with everything as best as possible.

So you tried not to let yourself get so carried away by the pressure and stress of this and help Pablo as much as possible, be it bathing and so on.

Although sometimes (all the time, actually) the boy was too stubborn and childish to let himself be helped, especially when it was bath time.

Like the other afternoon...

He came home after another special training session in a visibly foul mood. Like always, Pablo entered slamming the door loudly, causing a couple picture frames to shake on the wall—you flinched at the noise from the living room, dropping your book onto your lap. You could tell from the sound of his heavy footsteps that he was mad.

The boy passed through the hallway, without even giving you a glance and stormed directly into the bedroom, muttering under his breath.

"This is so damn frustrating," he grumbled, yanking clothes out of the drawer. He grabbed a towel and headed to the bathroom, slamming the door again behind him.

You, accustomed to this routine, took a deep breath and grabbed a couple of fresh towels. As she approached the bathroom door, she could hear the water running and Pablo's irritated mutterings. She knocked gently, "Pablo, mi vida, do you need any help?"

"No! Que puedo hacerlo yo solo, joder!" He snapped from the other side. (I can do it myself, damn it!)

She sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and worry. You hated seeing him like this, full of anger and pain. "Pablo, I just want to help. Please, let me in," You insisted softly, hoping to soothe him, since last time, he almost fell in the shower and all because of his stubbornness.

Instead of a calm response, the door flung open and the boy stood there, his face flushed with anger. "I said no!" He shouted, before slamming once again the door, this time in her face, miraculously not hitting the tip of her nose in the process. The sudden action startled her, leaving her standing still.

You stood there for a moment, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You were tired of this attitude but you knew that it was the frustration and pain talking, not the Pablo you loved. With a long face, she decided to wait on the bed, just in case he changed his mind. She didn't want to bother him too much because she knew how he reacted to persistent help, and she hated fighting.

Minutes ticked by, feeling like hours. She could hear him moving around in the bathroom, the sound of water splashing and occasional mutterings of frustration. She felt helpless, torn between wanting to give him space and the need to be there for him.

ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩

Today was a pretty bad day for you, since last week you had 3 important exams for which you spent hours studying but you still had the feeling that everything would turn out well, but to your surprise you failed.

This left a really bad feeling in your stomach all morning, yet you tried to distract yourself with other subjects and then making lunch for when Pablo arrived from his trials.

As you were turning off the frying pan, you heard the door open and close with a loud slam, something you were already getting used to. You wiped your hands with the rag and trotted to the entrance hall, where Pablo was struggling to take off his jacket.

"Hey, Pablito, do you need help with your—"

"No, I'm fine," The boy said through gritted teeth, interrupting her still struggling. The girl raised her eyebrows as she still watched him.

"Pablo, just let me do it for you—"

"Joder, déjame en paz!" Pablo snapped, his frustration boiling over. (Fuck, leave me alone)

Y/N rolled her eyes, starting to get irritated as well.

"Sometimes everything would be a little easier if you would just let me help you," Y/N crossed her arms.

"I told you dozens of times that I don't need your help. I can do things on my own, you know?" He said, finally hanging his jacket reluctantly on the coat rack.

"Well, I saw you struggle a lot with that jacket, so I don't know—"

"Y/N," The boy told her in a warning tone, interrupted her again, thing that was already starting to annoy the girl, who looked at him with a frown.

"Jeez! You should stop being so stubborn, Pablo, I was just trying to help," she murmured again, after releasing a heavy sigh, watching him walk towards the kitchen, slowly starting to follow him closely.

"Well, I don't need it! I don't need you!" He barked harshly, quickly turning to look at her.

Y/N froze, suddenly stunned by those words. She would never have imagined hearing Pablo say something like that. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them back, trying to stay strong.

'He doesn't need me?'

"Fine." She murmured in a small voice.

And without another word, the girl turned and walked away, cautiously closing the bedroom door, her heart feeling heavy already. The tears she had been holding back for those few seconds finally fell down her cheeks once she slid onto the door.

All the pressure and stress she had tried to suppress was finally taking its toll, and added to Pablo's outburst towards her, she felt that everything was too much. Y/N had reached her breaking point.

In the other room, Pablo let out a heavy sigh, while running a hand through his hair. He turned around and his eyes landed on the pan with food still warm on the stove, and the plates set out ready to be placed on the table.

The sight made him feel a pang of guilt so intense that it took him a while to realize the tears forming in his own eyes. Y/N always took care of everything—shit, even of him, and yet he took it upon himself to act like an ungrateful and insensitive jerk, and now Pablo thought about all the previous moments in which he behaved in the same way.

Pablo's heart broke a little more when he heard the inconsolable cries of the girl being cushioned by the door. He sat at the kitchen table, staring at the food Y/N had prepared, his appetite gone.

#pablo gavi imagine #pablo gavi #gavi #pablo gavi x reader #pedri gonzalez #pedri #pedri gonzalez x reader #futbol #football #football imagine

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domnamewoman · 1 year ago

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I was wondering if I could request an angst we’re all of the MK 2023 characters S/O get turned injured severely by Titian Shang Tsung (could have a happy end, could not…up too you!)

Characters: Liu Kang, Raiden, Kung Lao, Johnny Cage, Kenshi Takahashi, Kitana, Mileena, Tanya, Sub-Zero, Scorpion, Smoke, Reptile, Baraka, Shang Tsung, Rain

Warnings: Angst 😭, Canon-Typical Violence

Masterlist

Requests Are Open

Liu Kang’s heart stopped as he saw your body lying there, lifeless on the ground. He bent down to cradle you in his arms as tears fell from his eyes. He couldn’t believe it, the love of his life was now gone. He blamed himself for not getting there in time. Why was fate always so cruel, was he really destined to be alone? No, no he wouldn’t accept it. He was the Keeper of Time. He would reverse time and make sure that he is here to prevent such a horrid outcome. He would end Titan Shang Tsung once and for all.

Raiden felt as though he could throw up as he looked at your unconscious body lying in the bed. Titan Shang Tsung had blasted you off a cliff and you hit your head on a rock when you landed. The physician told Raiden that you were in a coma from the head injury. There was no telling when you would wake up or if you ever would. Raiden held your hand and rested his forehead on it as he let his tears fall. All he could do was stay by your side and wait. And he would, even if it was forever.

Kung Lao was angry. At himself for not being there, at the physicians for not being able to save you, but mostly at Titan Shang Tsung. He was the cause of all of this. Kung Lao placed one last kiss on your lips as he promised you to get revenge. He would stop at nothing to see Titan Shang Tsung taken down. He pushed his grief to the side and focused on making a plan to get to Titan Shang Tsung. He would grieve once his promise to you was fulfilled.

Johnny Cage struggled to find meaning in anything anymore. Without you, there just wasn’t any point to life for Johnny. Who cared about the movies, or the awards, or even saving Earthrealm from destruction? He couldn’t bring you back by doing any of it so he deemed it all useless. Johnny stopped trying, losing his arrogance and bravado. How great is “Johnny Cage” if he can’t even save his love? He was nothing but a failure in his eyes now and that’s how he would live.

Kenshi Takahashi felt all the joy in his life slipping away as he felt your blood slip through his fingers where he was applying pressure to your wound. He tried to smile and reassure you that the physician was on their way and you would make it out alive but he knew it was too late. He knelt there, helpless as you exhaled your final breath, going completely limp. Kenshi sat there with you in his arms for hours, pushing away Johnny and Kung Lao as they tried to get him to let you go. He couldn’t, not ever.

Kitana released a scream as she heard your neck snap at the hands of Titan Shang Tsung. Why? Why did it have to be you to charge at him? Why didn’t you listen to her when she told you to wait? Why couldn’t she move fast enough to prevent this from happening? Kitana gripped your shirt and cried into your chest as the fight continued around her. How was she supposed to go on? But she had to, for you. It’s what you would have wanted her to do. She vows to you as she grabs her bladed fans that she will avenge your death.

Mileena spent all of her time trying to find someone to help you. She was the Empress and she would spare no cost of getting the best physicians, the best medicine, whatever was needed to accelerate your healing process. The court could be mad all they wanted, but she didn’t care about her duties. Her only priority right now was seeing you healthy and back on your feet again. The only thing that could distract her from this is any updates on Titan Shang Tsung’s whereabouts. She would make sure that he died by her hands for harming her love.

Tanya watched in unbelief as Titan Shang Tsung stuck his claws deep into your abdomen. You crumpled to the ground, coughing up blood. Tanya rushed over and held you in her arms. She didn’t know how could she let this happen. She was Umgadi for goodness sake. And yet, she could protect her love from danger. She pulled you out of the path of battle, making sure you were as comfortable as you could be as she applied pressure to your wounds. She would make sure that you survived no matter what.

Bi-Han was filled with rage. Titan Shang Tsung dared to take his love away from him. How could Bi-Han call himself Earthrealm’s protector when he couldn’t even protect you? No, he would make Titan Shang Tsung pay for what he did. Bi-Han would gather all of the Lin Kuei and hunt him down. No longer was their purpose protecting Earthrealm. Their only mission was to kill Titan Shang Tsung to avenge the death of his lover. Nothing else mattered or was more important to him.

Kuai Liang couldn’t control the fire rolling off of his body as he saw you there unmoving, at Titan Shang Tsung’s feet. He rushed toward him, swinging out his chained knives aiming for his head. Kuai Liang fought with everything in him, letting his anger fuel his fire. He didn’t worry about his own well-being, what was the point now that you were gone? He ignored all the pain from his injuries and pressed on. He would put an end to Titan Shang Tsung, or he would die trying.

Tomas ran with all his might holding on to your limp body. He had to get you to a physician and quick. He couldn’t, no, he wouldn’t lose another family member. After his family was killed and he joined the Lin Kuei, he thought he would never have to go through heartache like that again. He couldn’t imagine a world without you. He pleaded with you to stay with him as he looked down at you taking shallow breaths. He ignored the burning in his legs and he pushed himself to run faster. He won’t lose you too.

Syzoth didn’t believe what they told him when he arrived at the palace. How could you be dead? It wasn’t possible. While he was out on a mission Titan Shang Tsung attacked? No, no that couldn’t be. He continued to deny it until they brought him to see your body. This couldn’t be happening to him again. Why could he never protect his loved ones? Why did he always have to be left completely alone? He will get his revenge. He will take away everything that Titan Shang Tsung has ever held dear.

Baraka knew that fate could be cruel when he got infected with Tarkat. But he thought he would be allowed some form of happiness in his life. That proved to be wrong when you were killed, leaving him all alone. Baraka could feel his sanity slipping. He was left with nothing yet again. The only one he loved was taken from him. All he could think about was shredding Titan Shang Tsung into pieces. He would turn into the savage beast everyone thought he was. He had nothing more to lose.

Shang Tsung couldn’t believe you were killed. To make matters worse, it was at the hands of his doppelganger. Shang Tsung would question what type of person he was for there to be a version of himself out there that would commit such a heinous act. Shang Tsung would practice all the sorcery in the world to find a way to bring you back. He didn’t care how many souls he had to steal. Starting with the soul of Titan Shang Tsung. He would prove that he was the best version in all timelines.

Zeffeero dropped to his knees in front of your lifeless body. What was it all for? He spent all his time trying to get power and status and for what? Just for the beloved to no longer be a part of his life? Zeffeero looked up, no one seemed to notice you, the most important person to him, lying on the cold ground. No, they didn’t get to go on with their lives like nothing happened. He would ruin their lives just like his now was. He would rain down an endless flood and drown them all.

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neteyamkink · 2 years ago

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cold neteyam meeting the clan’s sweetheart and having a soft spot for her but tries not to be obvi with it (everyone can lowkey tell though through the little gestures he does) that ends in smut when theyre alone and he wants to corrupt her innocence and reputation👀👀

OMG I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCHHHH THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING!! sorry this took me so long i’m so slow 😭

paring: aged up!neteyam x metkayina reader

warnings: mean neteyam :( (he’s in love though), my first time writing smut in veryyyy long >.<, degrading, use of “slut”, “princess”, “sweetheart, lil corruption kink?, swearing ofc, disgusting smut idfk

At first, you thought it was the new environment making him so distant and rude. Eventually, you started to think it might've been just you, he had no problem talking with anyone else in the clan. Just you. Little did you know the reasoning behind that was that he was in deep denial about his feelings towards you. He hated the way you made him feel so vulnerable and helpless. So he had to hate you, right?

You'd try to reach out to him and try to start a conversation, but he would always turn you down with a, "I'm busy," or, "leave me alone." You couldn't lie it kind of hurt your feelings. everyone loved you, how could he not?

One afternoon most of the young adults and teenagers were hanging around a fire, the sullys and all of your friends included. You sat there crushing up herbs to make spices and listening in on the conversation everyone was having.

"Y/n stop being so quiet," Kumi spoke, you didn't like Kumi very much only because he was a part of ao'nung’s little bully crew.

"I'm busy, I'm listening though," You smiled still trying to be nice to him even though you really just wanted to tell him to fuck off. What can you say though? You were minding your business obviously focused on something else.

"Oh come on since when were you anti-social," Kumi laughs, now he has interrupted the group's conversation and everyone's attention was on you two.

"I'm not, sorry I'll chime in," you quickly said realizing this whole thing was interrupting the group. You hated yourself for apologizing for being busy, but you didn't want to disturb the group and make a big deal out of the whole situation.

"Why are you making her apologize? She's obviously busy dumb ass," Neteyam suddenly chimed in. Your eyes shot up to him, but he was already looking at you. He scrunched up his face and looked away crossing his arms.

"oh no it's okay, neteyam," you scrambled to find the correct words and suddenly your heart was running miles a minute.

"Whatever," he scoffed not bothering to look in your direction. Suddenly your heart felt like it was dropping into your stomach and the frown that was on your face was inescapable.

Later in the day after the fire, you decided you would figure this out. No one is allowed to not like you. Neteyam usually would go into the trees to practice archery late after dinner. Even though he had to learn the ways of these new people he was determined to not forget the ways of his own. How did you know this? Kiri is your new best friend.

Determined to befriend the forest boy you set out into the forest to find him, and of course, he was exactly where Kiri said he would be. You decided to sit back and watch before going up to him. He set up a practice station with a bunch of fruits hanging from trees. You watched him draw back his bow and arrow, His back and arm muscles flexed and his blue skin looked so glossy and smooth under the moonlight. fuck y/n, focus. He released his arrow and it went straight through the fruit and into the tree behind it.

"Impressive," you spoke up slowly walking out of the tree and bushes you were behind. His head snapped in your direction and once he saw who it was he rolled his eyes and took a breath.

"I didn't mean to scare you," you smiled sweetly, attempting to use the charm that had worked on others on him.

"You didn't," he scoffs grabbing an arrow from the group and pulling it through his bow. You thought archery was so cool... and he looked so hot doing it. focus, y/n.

"what are you doing here? how did you find me?" he asks releasing his arrow and landing it perfectly in the middle of the fruit. damn, he's good.

"I came to talk to you about something. Kiri told me where you might be," You spoke stepping a little closer towards him. He didn't look away from his targets.

"I hope you know earlier today was not me defending you. I just don't like kumi," though his tone was even and calm his words were harsh and hurtful. Does he really not like you that much?

"Why are you so mean to me?" You randomly blurted out with a pout formed on your face. Your mouth moved before you could think about what was coming out of it and as soon as the words came out you wanted to shove them right back in. You usually were never this straightforward or harsh with anyone. He turned to you and quirked his brow like he was shocked.

shit was he being too harsh? he thought. He just couldn't stand the way you made him feel. The way the innocent look in your eyes made his insides all tingly. The way that one look made him want to get on top of you and ruin those innocent eyes. fuck those eyes that you're giving him right now. Why do you have to torture him like this?

"Am I really?" he said dropping his bow and taking steps closer and closer toward you. Suddenly your throat was dry and you swallowed the lump in your throat. You took steps back as he got closer, too scared of what you might do if he got any closer. Too scared of what those yellow eyes burning through you might do to you.

"mhm," you hummed, heart racing as if you had just run to the moon and back.

"I can show you mean," he smirked. a gasp left your mouth when your back suddenly bumped into the bark of a tree, he had you cornered. And fuck you don't know what he meant by that but whatever he did you wanted it so badly. He looked as if he was going to eat you alive and my eywa you were begging he would.

"teyam..." you stuttered, putting your hands up to rest on his chest. "Teyam, please," you wrapped your arms around his neck. You were practically begging him to ruin you. your eyes looked up at him through your eyelashes, bottom lip slightly jutted out in a pout. Fuck you drove him crazy.

"Say it," the smirk plastered on his lips makes your knees grow weak and you almost buckle over.

You can speak so you just push his neck down and smash your lips onto his. He wastes no time responding and kissing back. His sweet lips were rough against yours and the only thing you both could think about is why you didn't do this sooner. Everyone saw the tension between you two except for you. In the back of your mind, you knew you had been waiting for this moment.

"jump," he mumbles against your lips. You're quick to follow his instructions and jump, his strong arms catch you his hands have a firm grip cupping your ass. The tree you are pushed up against rubs against your porcelain skin.

"All you do is act so sweet and innocent around the others. I know what you really are," he speaks in between sloppy kisses. His words go straight to your brain and suddenly your head is all fuzzy and wonky. He moves from Your lips down to your neck, and your neck down to your collar bone, and your collar bone down to a little above your breast. then he repeats kissing, sucking, licking.

Your hands tangled in the back of his hair, and his braids felt rough in your hands. Your lips parted slightly to make way for the small hums and moans falling from them.

"need you right now, mk?" neteyam backs away from your neck to speak. you nod without hesitation, fuck you are so ready. The pool between your legs had been forming ever since he backed you into the tree.

"use your words, princess," The nickname darted straight to your pussy.

"yes, I need you," you spoke trying to pull him closer to you. He let out a low groan and reached one hand down to your loincloth, His big hand dragging across your wet slit.

"fuck," you gasped and bit your lip.

"All this for me?" he questions his lips curving into the stupidest grin. You simply nodded and tugged his hair tighter. He circled his finger around your clit a couple of times, making sure to get you nice and wet. small moans escaped from your mouth as you pawed at his loin cloth ready for more. You could feel him painfully hard against your palm.

“need you teyam,” you choked out, practically begging him to fuck you. He stopped his movements around your clit and looked you in the eyes. He was ready too. You looked up at him and batted your eyes, your eyes begged him for something- no… anything more.

“fuck, okay,” he quickly gave in undoing the knot of his loincloth with his free hand and letting it drop to his feet. He grabs his cock and lines it up with your entrance rubbing it up and down your slit. His hands practically shook with excitement.

“you sure?” he asks pausing before he goes any further. Without hesitation, you aggressively nod your head.

“words, ma ‘evenge (my girl),” the nickname drove you crazy causing the pool between your legs to get bigger and bigger.

“yes, teyam please,” you pleaded hands gripping the hair on his neck tighter. Immediately he was bullying his cock through your walls. When he entered you, you both gasped out of pleasure. The feeling of you being filled up makes your head go spinning, and the feeling of your warm walls around Neteyam makes him dizzy.

“oh, my eywa,” you whimper as he slowly pulls out and quickly snaps his hips back into yours. Your head swings back into the tree behind you and he uses both of his hands to cup for ass to support you. Back aching from being forced onto the rough bark behind you.

“Fuck baby,” he groans increasing his pace with every thrust. His nails dug into the plush of your ass and he couldn’t help but bury his head in the crook of your neck. Kissing, sucking, licking, and sometimes sinking his sharp fangs into your collarbone.

“You feel so good,” you whine bucking your hips up at him to meet him halfway, your body was begging for more.

“I need more,” you pleaded pushing his neck closer to you and shoving his body against yours, leaving sloppy kisses all over his shoulder. You needed to be closer to him, you needed to feel every movement he made, hear every breath he took, and kiss every inch you could.

“I know you want it so bad, huh baby?” his voice sounds sympathetic but he’s just being a meanie. His thrusts grow faster and faster, harder and harder. Your eyes roll into the back of your head due to the amount of pure bliss you were in.

“Fuck I been waiting to fuck you for so long. Ruin that pretty little innocent act you put on,” he practically growls into your neck. Your nails dig into his back.

“Please ruin me,” You begged, he scoffed at how needy and pathetic you were for him. He knew you weren’t as innocent as everyone made you out to be, so he was gonna fuck you like you weren’t.

“You’re all mine now,” he smirks against your collarbone as he sucked and bit marking you up so everyone would know he was yours and you were his.

“Say it ma ‘evenge,” he demanded.

“‘m all yours teytey,” you choked out through your moans. The knot in your stomach was growing tighter by the second and any second now you would cum.

“Please can I cum tey?” you begged, scratching up his back and marking him in your own way.

“Admit it, admit you’re a fucking slut,” His stern voice pulsated throughout your whole body sending shivers down your spine.

“I’m a slut,” you manage to choke out through your pants. His thrusts are becoming sloppy but his pace is still quick. You know he’s close.

“who’s slut are you?” He questions biting into your neck, his fangs so deep they feel like they’re going to draw blood.

“yours, teyam. All yours,” you breathe, his breaths quicken with yours and he throws his head back unable to take the pleasure anymore. You have to cum before him.

“cum, princess,” As soon as the word leaves his mouth, your a mess crumbling underneath him. Pleasure takes over your body and causes your head to throw back and your back to arch off the tree. The way your walls tighten around him sent him over. His thrusts became sloppy as his white ropes shot into you.

“I know, baby. I know,” He shushed you as you both came down from your high caressing your face with one of his hands and holding you up with the other.

“everyone’s gonna know you’re mine,” he smirked admiring the attacks he left on your neck.

#avatar #neteyam #neteyam smut #avatar the way of water #fanfic #neteyam x reader

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saffusthings · 4 months ago

Text

It's Written All Over Your Face

oscar piastri x personal assistant! reader

summary: the one where they learn feelings can be messy. and weird. word count: 15.9k (...) warnings: abuse aftermath, a sprinkle of angst, don't try this at home kids, poorly edited writing a/n: i have a love/hate relationship with my writing of this chapter, but it seems alright. but it's got a couple scenes i'm excited for y'all to see :) also mc is a Hot Mess but i love her sm

Part 1 | Part 2

“O- Oscar,” she trembles, too busy to be bothered to be professional. “I think s- something’s wrong…”

He pulls her in tightly, letting her head rest against his shoulder.

"Shhh," he whispers. "I'm here. It's okay."

He's trying to be strong for her. He knows that she needs it right now, and even though something inside him is vibrating with fear.

She covered another cough with her hand, only to find it smeared a deep red.

Oh, that's blood.

"Y/N, what happened?" He finds himself asking, even though he already knows the answer.

“I don- I don’t know,” she wheezes.

It’s been a few minutes since Oscar went into the bathroom. Lando also doesn’t hear any of the tell tale signs of two people… well, getting it on - so tentatively, he calls out for his teammate. “Everything alright, Osc?”

"No" Oscar finally manages to get out, his voice choked and thick. "Things don’t look too good. Can you… Can you go get help?"

“What?” Lando rushes in at the first sign that something is not right.

He turns to give Lando a panicked look, his eyes wide and desperate. "I don't know what's wrong - just go get help or something!" he demands, desperate for someone, anyone to help them.

He wants to run his fingers through her hair again - wants to be able to soothe her - but he's worried he'll make it worse somehow.

This can't be happening. This isn’t fair.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come t-to lunch. I was g- going to, b-but…”

Her hands feel cold. Why are they cold?

"No, no," he says, giving her his most convincing smile. "Don't talk, don't apologize - just breathe. Breathe."

He's saying the words just as much to himself, he thinks. His mouth has gone completely dry, and he's sweating profusely. He can't tell if it's from the heat or terror or both.

Lando grabs his keys and reappears in a moment. “We’re going to the hospital. I’ll drive.”

He nods numbly, before forcing himself to think straight. This is not the time.

He tries to figure out how to do that. He's going to have to do most of the work here, but she's already weak as it is. He's going to have to try and carry her. When they finally reach the car, what feels like months later, Lando gestures for Oscar to ride in the back with her.

“Think she’d want you with her,” he explains quietly, before opening the driver’s seat and getting in. Oscar gives the older man a nod, climbing into the back of the car.

She's so out of it now, his efforts to sit her up only causing her to cough harder. He tries to keep his hold on her strong, trying his best to keep her upright on his lap so she'll have an easier time breathing.

"It's okay," he keeps whispering to her, countless times. "It's okay."

“It…” Her speech is getting more and more strained as time passes. “Hurts.”

He gives her a pained smile, trying to hide how absolutely horrible this is really going.

"Hey, I know it hurts right now," he says quietly. "But it's all going to be okay. We're on our way to the hospital now, okay? You've just gotta hold on. You can do that, can't you? Hold on for me, I know you can."

She wraps one of her hands around one of his. The touch is soft, gentle.

It takes him a few minutes to realize that it’s meant to be a firm grip on his hand.

He feels completely useless - more useless than he's felt in his life. He wants to be able to do something, help her out in some way - but he can't. He's helpless here, completely at the mercy of whatever is happening to her right now.

That's something that makes his stomach turn in terror. He's never been this scared for someone else's life before - and he doesn't like it.

As her eyes become half-lidded, he turns to face Lando.

“What do I do? Something is wrong with her, and I can’t tell what the fuck it is,” Oscar asks, frustrated, an undercurrent of panic in his tone.

"Hey, hey, just concentrate on getting her to stay awake, okay? She just needs to stay conscious. Just keep her talking, just anything. Doesn't matter what it is," he reassures him - although honestly, he's feeling just as scared, just as anxious as Oscar. His friend is coughing up blood in his backseat, and these cars ahead just won’t fucking move. In his mind, all he keeps hoping for is that they'll make it just one damn minute closer to the hospital. Just one more minute.

He starts to rub her sides gently - trying to get her to focus. His face is the picture of calm, a soft small on his lips as he soothes her.

"I'm sorry I got grumpy at you earlier. You didn't deserve that. I'll make it up to you later, I promise," he says.

“…Yeah?” She smiles weakly, trying to make him feel a bit better.

"Yeah, I will," he says, trying to sound brave.

Once they reach the hospital, Oscar wraps her arms around his shoulders as he works to prop her up, supporting her weight. He ends up looping an arm underneath both of hers, before he practically drags her along with him. They inch towards the doors of the emergency room, Oscar hoping against all hope that she's still conscious.

He can manage anything - he'll work through absolutely anything if she's okay.

There are no clear images - the entire rush of the hospital sounds like it’s happening… underwater?

She can vaguely register that she’s in someone’s arms - probably Oscar’s. The ceiling lights look more like blurry blobs, disfigured and unclear. She tries her best to keep her eyes open.

Oscar is the one to spot a couple of nurses walking out of the double doors, and instantly, starts striding up to them in a panic. "Excuse me? Help, please!" he calls out desperately.

He's trying to keep his voice from shaking, trying to get her to a hospital bed - and fast. His voice draws the gaze of the nurses, who look at them in astonishment, their eyes widening at the sight of the blood on her shirt. Immediately, they snap out of their stupor and get to work.

"Bring the gurney over!" one of them cries out, as they push one the double doors open, allowing him to rush into the hospital - the girl now limp in his arms.

“…O-Osc?”

He hears the sound of her small voice, the word coming out broken and barely there. She’s speaking, barely, and for now, this is enough assurance for him that she's okay.

"Oh, hey - it's okay, we're at the hospital now. You're gonna be okay, okay? Just hold on to me a little longer. We're gonna get you to a doctor, and it's all gonna be good - you'll see," he tries to reassure her, his hands gripping her shoulders gently - keeping her in his arms.

“I can’t-“ she wheezes out. “Can’t–“

He hears the sound of her labored breathing, and his eyes widen in panic.

"Shhh, shhh, it's okay,” he coos gently.” You don't have to talk - just keep breathin’, alright? You just have to keep breathing," he tells her, voice straining to stay even, his knuckles going white with how hard they're gripping her.

“Can’t breathe–“ she finally manages to get out.

His eyes search desperately around for help, for a nurse, a doctor, somebody to come and help her. He’s just about to resume shouting for help when, like a breath of fresh air, he hears the clatter of the gurney being wheeled in, and two nurses pushing it up to him - ready to load her into the gurney.

"Just stay awake," he tells her desperately, his face going deathly pale as she is shifted from his grasp. He only just manages to keep the sob of relief in his throat as he watches them wheel her away from him, towards a trauma room.

The sound around him feels like it fades in and out - distant shouts for an IV, for blood, about a fracture causing a lung puncture leading to internal bleeding. Time is too slow and too fast all at once.

When something pulls at the corner of his mind, it’s only then that Oscar sees Lando trying to get his attention. He feels Lando gently nudging him again, trying to pull him away from the trauma room door - and his head snaps up, almost as if he's been woken up from a deep sleep.

"Huh?" he repeats back to Lando blankly. He blinks and shakes his head, feeling the fogginess in his mind start to clear a little. "What'd you say?"

He feels a little lightheaded - and it takes him a moment to realize it's from the fact that he's still not breathing right, too busy trying to listen to the nurses talk to the doctor through the door. Lando looks at him with a sympathetic expression, pulling him further from the door. "Come on, mate. She's gonna be alright. They've got it handled."

He lets Lando shepherd him towards some of the waiting room chairs - a little bit further away from the door - as he listens desperately, trying to get some hint of what was happening from the murmurs inside.

The only things that actually register in his mind is what he's pretty sure is the sound of beeping heart rate monitors - and the sound of the nurse informing the doctor that there's more bleeding somewhere then they'd originally thought.

For a second time, Lando's voice is what breaks his train of thought.

“I don’t mean to overstep,” he starts cautiously, afraid of setting off an emotional trigger of some sort. “But… do we know what happened?”

He blinks, and tries to focus on Lando, and not the faint sounds coming from the trauma room a few feet away. "I don't know," he tells Lando honestly, his eyes going cold like he's about to say something that he really just doesn't want to admit. "… But I'm betting it had something to do with her parents."

Lando’s not sure he understands. While he doesn’t know the exact nature of whatever is going on between Oscar and his assistant, he knows there’s something there. And he’s willing to bet that that means Oscar is the one who probably knows the most here.

His brows furrow. “What, like she’s sick?”

The younger man nods, his jaw tightening slightly. "Yeah, you could say that."

"I'm fine, Lando," he says quietly when Lando seems to continue to hover nearby - because he thinks maybe Lando's concerned about him, and he needs his best friend to understand that right now, he's okay. "I'm just worried about her."

“And why’s that?” Lando asks knowingly.

"Because she-" he stops himself again, realizing that the one thing he doesn't want to say about her is exactly what he's just about to blurt out. But before he can utter another word, their attention is stolen by commotion in the trauma room.

His head immediately snaps up, eyes wide as he takes in the noise. The heart rate monitor sounds different - the rhythm of the beeping is somehow even more intense. It makes a strange sense of panic encroaching across his chest - the way suspense music in horror movies are meant to, except a dozen times worse.

He can make out the sounds of nurses shouting different medical directives and things to each other.

What the hell is going on in there?

His throat tightens as he takes in the noise. There’s shouting - they're commanding each other to do things, and it sounds like discord. It sounds too hurried, and incessant beeping of the heart rate monitor doesn’t ease up either..

Lando spares a quick glance to check on Oscar, worried for him. He knows this cant be easy for him, and yet, Oscar's face has the serenity of a blank slate. He then turns his attention back to the room, trying to observe and figure out what’s going on through the small windows on the doors to the trauma room. Oscar, of course, does the same.

He can barely see anything through the little window.

It's all flashes of movement, and he's not even sure which colours belong to who - but whatever is happening, it's happening really fast. The nurses are still shouting and the heart rate monitor is still beeping furiously and no-one has come out to tell him what's happening, and nothing about this seems remotely okay.

This isn’t real.

This isn’t real. It’s all he can think, feel - over and over again. This isn’t real. This isn’t real.

When Lando turns to look at Oscar, he’s gone pale.

Paler than usual.

“Oscar?” Lando’s voice sounds far away. “Osc? Hey, mate, I need you to look at me, okay? You need to breathe, yeah?” He feels Lando's hands on his face, gripping his chin and turning his head towards him.

He opens his eyes slowly - they're wet.

When did the room start getting blurry for him?

God, this feels like his worst nightmare is coming true.

If Oscar thought he was scared before, when the commotion started?

Then his heart stills in his fucking chest when the commotion is no more.

No.

No, no, no, no.

The silence feels all-encompassing - like it's drowning his senses. His chest feels impossibly tight. The room disappears - the noise around him mutes into a dull roar, and he can't breathe right now. He can't even feel his own fingertips.

“Sir?” A young man tries, attempting to get Oscar’s attention.

His head snaps up at the word, eyes blinking back into sharpness and his vision sharpening in an instant. He looks around, the sound of the nurse's voice bringing him back to his senses.

“Are you…” the young resident checks his clipboard. “… Mr. Piastri?”

The Australian nods quickly, swallowing hard before speaking.

He knows his voice is shaky right now. It's obvious that he's freaked out right now - everyone who walks by him is looking at him like he's going to fall apart, and he would if they'd just tell him what happened to her.

"Y-yeah," he manages, "that's me. That's me. Can you tell me what's going on?"

“Could you provide a valid form of identification? It’s all procedure - we can’t release medical information to anyone except to the emergency contact we have on file,” he explains.

Right. Right.

Provide information. Valid form of ID. Procedure.

It's all very logical. It's all very reasonable.

Oscar nods, reaching for the wallet on the other side of his back pocket. His fingers are only shaking a little, but it takes him an absurdly long time to pull out the card - because he can't remember where he keeps his ID and when he finally does find it, his hands feel some degree of numbness.

Lando puts a warm hand on his. “Mate, breathe,” he whispers, trying to get him to calm down. He’s just watched Oscar fumble with his ID four different times as he fails to slip it out of his wallet.

Lando gives him a small smile that he hopes is at least a little reassuring.

He takes a slow deep breath in and out - his fingers still shaking. Come on, Piastri. He tells himself - but the words ring false in his mind right now when he doesn't feel like he's really fully himself at this very moment.

Someone needs to tell him what's wrong with her.

“Mate, he needs your ID,” Lando grounds him gently.

"Right. Right. Yeah," he agrees, trying to compose himself. It's impossible. He can't think straight.

He finally manages to pry his ID from his shaky fingers, handing it to the man in the powder blue scrubs without another word. The assistant, after taking a moment to confirm, returns his ID and checks his notes before eyeing Lando warily, unsure if he should provide Y/N’s medical update in front of the third party.

He’s not looking to get fired, after all.

When all he gets in turn is a nod of confirmation from her emergency contact, the assistant swallows, and then starts to speak.

"Based on the X-rays and MRI tests, we’ve been able to conclude that Ms. L/N has suffered an extensive lung injury. That's most likely the cause of the bleeding. We've also taken her to intensive care for urgent treatment."

The man in the lab coat hesitates before ultimately continuing.

“Right now, the doctor suspects the cause to be an untreated fracture of her ribs,” he reads off his documents before looking up at Oscar. “We believe that the cracked rib or ribs placed pressure on the lung, causing a puncture and the subsequent internal bleeding.”

Cracked ribs.

He wants to throw up. He thinks he might even dry heave for a second, but he stops himself. "I don't- I don't understand," he tries to say, his voice thick.

Lando watches the blood drain from Oscar's face. He needs to get Oscar out of the situation - out before the dam breaks. So he takes a small step closer and rests a comforting hand on Oscar's shoulder again.

"C'mon," he says gently. "Let's go take a walk, yeah?"

Lando’s caught off guard when Oscar plants himself in that spot, his body resisting the older man’s hold.

"No." he forces himself to say. He can't think straight right now, but he doesn't want to move from the exact spot he's standing in.

He stares at Lando, his jaw clenched, "I'm not leaving until I see her."

“Oscar-,” Lando tries, gently yet firmly using his arm to usher Oscar in the direction of the door leading outside.

He knows what Lando's trying to do - he's trying to help him not freak out in public, he's trying to keep him from falling apart in front of the nurses.

Goddammit, Lando. Leave me alone.

He shakes his head, his hands subtly clenching into fists, "No! I'm not- I don't need to go outside, okay? I'm fine! Just let go of me!"

He glances at Lando, his face desperate, before he repeats his plea, trying to focus on the one thing he wants right now.

"I'm not leaving until we see her."

Lando’s hands come up to both sides of Oscar’s face. They don’t shake him, but they do hold him - Lando’s hands a warm and firm pressure against him. “Mate,” Lando says slowly, evenly. He makes it a point to look him directly in the eyes. “You’re not talking sense. I need to know what’s going on, yeah?”

Oscar meets Lando's eyes, taking a steadying breath. "I just… I need to know that she's okay," Oscar whispers, his voice rough and hoarse.

“Okay,” Lando nods, trying his best to be understanding. “Yeah, I’m with you there.”

Lando’s eyes search his face for any indication of what he’s thinking.

"I like her," Oscar says quietly, finally managing to meet Lando's eyes, "A lot more than I should, and I'm afraid she might…"

Oh.

That wasn’t what Lando was expecting. But I can work with that, Lando thinks.

Lando nods, and he understands and for some reason, Oscar feels like he might start crying in sheer relief right there. That, of course, would be horribly embarrassing. His pride won't let him do it, so he holds back. But he thinks he can start breathing a little bit easier, knowing that Lando gets it.

He swallows hard, his eyes closing for a moment as he forces the words out, "With her, it's just… it's different, y’know? Like someone who speaks your language in foreign land, she just-"

He cuts himself off, choking on the words.

“Yeah?” Lando teases good naturedly. Sue him for having a little fun with it. “Sounds like she’s special.”

Oscar nods. "Yeah," he says softly. "She is." He looks up to find him wearing a small smile.

“Say, how’d you bag an assistant like that anyway? No way she came ‘cause of your stats,” Lando shrugs, something smug brewing in the curve of his lips.

Lando sounds genuinely curious as he asks, and it throws Oscar off a bit.

"I…" He stops, trying to force his mind to work right now. "She started out as a junior assistant at the team," he continues, trying to focus, but the memory of her at the beginning - her shy smile, her quiet, gentle nature - it's all flooding his mind again.

"She was… shy. More than shy - she didn't really talk, but- she was so quiet. The others-... they’d crack jokes about it, snide remarks and the like.."

"But when she did talk, she was... she was just so smart. And know how her sense of humor is - hers are the jokes that are actually funny.”

“That so?”

"Yeah," he says, the memory still fresh in his mind. He'd watched, completely entranced.

He'd never thought of taking the assistant out for a drink before, but he'd somehow found himself offering her one that weekend.

"She didn't agree to go," he remembers, his mouth curving into a bitter smile. "I think she thought it was like, a joke or something. Like I was doing it to make fun of her."

"She was pretty wary the first few times," he continues, his voice softer now. She'd always been shy and quiet as his assistant, but once he'd begun to earn her trust, slowly but surely. It was only then he'd seen a different side to her - the confident, sweet, gentle persona that only he was privy to.

"But then she got a little more open, a little more herself- god. It was this beautiful thing."

The idiot’s in love, Lando thinks. But some self-preservation instinct tells him that if he’d like to keep his body and his car intact, then he should keep his mouth shut.

At least this once.

They cross the threshold into the room, the sight of her broken body in a hospital bed greeting Oscar immediately. The room smells overwhelmingly of hand sanitizer, paper products and latex gloves. Fluorescent lights are dimmed, a couple of them on across the tiled ceiling.

She lays there, still and silent - not unlike the way she’d been asleep in his bed just last night. But like sand slipping through his fingers, that image gives way to the one before him: the present.

There’s dried blood on her lips from when she’d been spitting up blood earlier. She’s connected to all sorts of machines - the IV, the heart rate monitor, a couple other things Oscar’s sure must also be important. She’d hate this, he finds himself thinking.

Instinctively, he steps closer.

He’s almost frightened to get too close to her, too scared to make the wrong move somehow as he stands by the edge of the bed. She’s always had an elegance - a grace - about her that’s always commanded his attention. But right now, it’s all gone.

“They had to put her under to stop her from trying to speak or move,” an attendant pipes up, from where she’s been noting down her vitals in the corner of the. “Because of the fracture in her ribs.”

Oscar's face remains the picture of neutral, dancing somewhere between stoic and lost.

“She can still hear you,” he informs him quietly.

He reaches forward, resting his hand carefully on the top of her head, his fingers gently smoothing down her loose strands of hair. “I’m here now,” he murmurs quietly, his voice cracking with an emotion he can’t place. “You’re okay - you’re okay,” he repeats, more to himself than to her.

He watches her for a moment again - she looks more peaceful now, now that he’s standing here, talking to her. His fingers move through her hair, the way he sometimes did when she’d accidentally fall asleep on his shoulder.

“Do you think she can feel too?” he asks aloud, directed towards no one in particular. The attendant has left the room a while ago, but minutes blend together into one long indiscernible stretch of time.

Lando seems to consider the question thoroughly, his brow furrowed.

“I’d say so,” he answers, quietly. “She might not react to it, because of the drugs, but her brain would register the touch regardless. I don’t think there’s anything that would stop her from feeling it.”

He takes his free hand, carefully wrapping his fingers around her much smaller, bruised one.

Lando briefly wonders if his mind is playing tricks on him when the beeping of the heart monitor speeds up by a fraction of a second.

Oscar, on the other hand, remains focused elsewhere. It’s the oddest thing, he thinks - how he was dying to be near her and now that he is, he’s not sure what to say.

Say something, he thinks to himself.

But he’s drawing a blank. Everything he thought he’d say to her in a position like this vanishes from his mind and he’s left standing here, still holding her hand, a complete and utter blank.

He looks down at her face again, studying her. He can make out a scratch on her forehead that seems to disappear into her hairline, and he carefully runs his thumb over it. He stays like that, running his thumb over her forehead, over her eyebrow... until his eyes finally move down to her mouth.

He pauses, watching the slight part of her lips, her lower lip still caked with the dried blood.

He doesn’t quite know why, but all of a sudden the idea of her being dirty, of being covered in blood - of looking so unlike her - feels like venom in his veins.

His gaze is fixated on the dried blood stuck to her lip, and on an impulse, he grabs the tissue that’s resting nearby and reaches forward to clean it away. His touch is so gentle as he brushes the tissue over her lower lip, the dried blood coming off on the tissue.

He wants the image of her, bloody, dirty, to stop plaguing his mind - he wants her to look like herself again.

He continues wiping carefully, his touch feather-light, wiping away the dirt that’s stained her face. She deserves to be clean, to be safe, and so he keeps gently wiping at her lip long after the blood’s gone from her face.

“Osc,” Lando calls tentatively, trying to bring him back to the present from wherever his mind has gone. “It’s alright, it’s okay. She’s clean.”

He snaps out of his reverie at Lando’s voice, stopping the repetitive brushing of the tissue against her lip.

“I miss her too, y’know,” Lando pipes up. He’s not sure whether that’s helpful, but he says it anyway. The younger man doesn’t turn around to look at Lando, eyes still fixed on her face, afraid to miss anything if he loses focus for just a second.

“I know,” he murmurs, his voice almost lost as he continues tracing mindless patterns on her palm.

“I’m not saying it’s the same,” Lando corrects gently. “I know that this… this is different. I’m not saying I don’t care about her, but anyone with eyes can see. “With you it’s different. You and her… it’s different,” he finally shrugs.

He doesn’t say anything, but he nods - his only acknowledgement of Lando’s words, not wanting to make a sound in case it disturbs her - in case she’s listening.

“She came to me.”

That makes him lift his head up for a moment, surprised by the statement, and he looks over his shoulder at Lando.

“She… what?” he questions, confused.

He nods, a fond smile on his lips as he reminisces.

“Yeah. Asked me a whole bunch of questions, all about you - what you like to eat, where you like to eat, what kind of gifts you like.”

He shakes his head in disbelief and mutters, more to himself than to Lando, “I have no idea where the hell this girl manages to get so much energy from.”

Lando’s reply is simple, like it’s obvious. “You.”

His brow furrow. Huh?

“Me?” he all but echoes, confusion clear on his face.

“Can’t you see it?”

He can’t figure out what Lando’s hinting at, so he shakes his head.

“I- I’m lost, mate. What d’you mean?”

“It’s… she’s different with you, mate. With everyone else, she’s more guarded, more reserved, more sarcastic. Not that she isn’t charming, but…” he trails off, trying to figure out how to put it into words.

“I don’t think she notices it either. She comes alive whenever you’re around.” For a moment, Luisa flashes in his minds eye.

He turns back to look at her again, his eyes scanning over her face, and then shifts his gaze to their hands - to his fingers, still tracing mindless patterns against hers.

He’s never noticed it - he thought that she always had this energy, that this was just who she was. But different? Oscar isn’t too sure about that. He looks down at her again and wonders why he never noticed anything himself before.

“She’s friendly, always. But anytime it’s the three of us, it’s like I get to be the third wheel to the most awkward and embarrassing old married couple ever,” Lando jokes.

For a split second, the joke makes him smile - a real, proper smile that’s genuine and not forced for any sort of public appearance. And, in that second, he almost imagines what it would be like if they were a married couple - like it wouldn’t be so bad.

“You guys finish each other’s sentences,” he deadpans.

“She’s just good at reading between the lines,” Oscar explains.

But he can’t deny that in spite of that, Lando’s not entirely wrong. Even in all their time alone, they’d fallen into a certain sort of rhythm - an easy flow, like they both just instinctively knew what the other one was thinking at almost all times.

“It makes work easier,” he adds on, trying to downplay it.

“Yeah. Work.”

He ignores Lando’s sarcastic tone - he’s too focused on something else right now.

“She should be awake by now, right?” he blurts out, looking back at Lando.

“I don’t know,” his teammate says quietly.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” he presses, his tone harsher than he’d intended.

He takes another glance at her face, hoping for some sign of change, some sign of life.

Nothing.

“Just talk. Whatever you want to say to her, anything - you can just talk,” Lando suggests awkwardly. It’s often that Lando finds Oscar a bit difficult to read, but now it’s impossible to know what will help and what will set him off..

“Right, okay, yeah,” he mutters, nodding.

He turns back to her, silence filling the room while he thinks. There’s something he really wants to say, a phrase that’s been on the tip of his tongue for weeks now - but the timing is awful.

He decides to start with something simpler instead. His voice sounds shaky when he speaks up again.

“Hey,” he calls out softly. “…Hey.”

He waits for a response, any response - a word, a twitch, a blinking of the eyelashes - but nothing comes. He takes another deep breath before he continues.

“You’re really stubborn, you know,” he chides. “Stupidly stubborn.”

“Just… just wake up, okay?”

He takes a glance at Lando, who’s standing off to the side and observing silently, before looking back down at her face. But she’s still the same as before - no response, no movement, no sign that she’s even heard either of them.

“Oscar…” Lando starts cautiously.

He has a feeling he knows what Lando’s about to say.

It’s not what he wants to hear.

“No,” he cuts him off before Lando even utters a word. “No, not yet. Just… give her a minute, okay?”

“Oscar…”

“No, stop,” he pleads, his voice cracking for a fraction of a second.

“Os-“

“I said stop,” he snaps back, turning to give him a pleading look. “She just… just give her a minute.”

Lando takes it upon himself to try to limit the damage. He’s already got one friend laying motionless in a hospital bed - he is not going to let Oscar lose it now.

“I just don’t think that that yelling at her will do-“

“I wasn’t yelling,” he bites back, though he knows that the volume of his voice was edging towards it.

“Oscar,” Lando commands, trying to get Oscar to listen.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, lifting his head to look back at her. “Sorry, I just…”

Lando’s face molds into a sympathetic expression. He’s usually more comfortable in joyous environments, always the one to crack a joke or make things more relaxed. But here, he forces the discomfort down. Lando Norris is not one to let someone suffer alone.

The Australian knows what he wants to tell her - has desperately wanted to tell her, wants to say it so badly that it’s taking all of his willpower to not blurt the words out.

But the timing still feels wrong - the circumstances around them feel completely off and he can’t bring himself to do it. He looks back at Lando for guidance, Like there’s something the man can do that he can’t.

“She’s easy to talk to, isn’t she?” Lando remembers gas station runs, forbidden slushies and the dark of night as accessories to conversations that never seemed to end. Y/N is eloquent - there’s no doubt about it. Her words can command a room, can simplify the most

“Yeah,” he replies automatically.

“Then just talk to her. She was your assistant, our friend - before she was ever anything else to you,” Lando says indignantly. “Talk to her. Tell her what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling. This might be the onl-“

“Don’t.” Oscar is quick to cut him off. “Don’t say that.”

Lando’s lips press together into a straight line, falling silent.

He turns to look down at her again, his mind working overtime as he tries to figure out what to say. Oscar says the only thing he can, sparing no time for niceties or lighthearted anecdotes.

“You have to wake up, okay?” he mumbles, almost to himself. “I need to tell you that you were right about the error in our tyre deg numbers.”

He laughs softly, in spite of himself, as the memory of her being the sensible one for once comes to mind.

“And… and while we’re on the topic, I just need to say that you were also such a pain in the ass during flights, alright?” he continues. “You’re always so difficult with me when we fly together.”

“And don’t get me wrong, it’s almost endearing when you’re all bossy and sarcastic -” he’s talking faster now, his mind speeding through all the things he wants to say to her “- but it makes me want to strangle you sometimes. You drive me absolutely mental sometimes.”

“But at the same time…” he hesitates. Oscar’s never really been a man of many words. He thinks a lot more than he speaks.

He hesitates because it’s the truth - she drives him crazy, in some of the best and worst ways.

“At the same time, I don’t think I’d be able to do this without you, somehow. Despite all the insane, impossible things I put you through, you’re always here for me, always taking care of me, always by my side.”

Her first thought feels like it’s a distant memory, located in some faraway room that she can only think of if she tries with all her might not to let it melt away.

She can feel her fingertips.

He’s rambling, the words tumbling out faster with each sentence, and he doesn’t even notice that her fingers twitch against his hand.

“And I know you never ask for anything in return, I know you don’t expect anything in return, I know you just want me to be happy and healthy and I don’t even know how you just-“

The next sensation she registers is much less kind.

Before she can settle into the moment of unexpected peace, a sharp, stabbing pain pierces her side. She feels like molten lava dunked in ice cold water. She feels painfully cold and burning hot simultaneously.

It’s the way her body suddenly twitches involuntarily, so fast and hard that it jolts him out of his rambling, that he realizes something’s wrong.

“Hey,” he says, gripping her hand a little tighter to get her attention, “hey.”

Her hand twitches once again, but they barely have time to pay any attention to it because suddenly the monitor spikes, sending off alarms, the loud sound blaring through the room.

A cold chill runs down his spine, and his grip on her hand tightens without him even realizing. The next thing he knows, a swarm of doctors are rushing into the room. Instantly, her hand is being ripped from his and he’s looking at Lando with wide eyes.

He jumps up to his feet instinctively, wanting to follow where they’re taking her but being pulled back by Lando.

“Wha-“ he asks, his voice carrying an uneasy pitch, his heart threatening to break his rib cage with how hard it’s beating now. “Will someone tell us what’s going on?”

The words would have been loud, but the alarm bares over them. Everything’s happening faster than they can keep up with - one moment ago he was trying to think of a way to say how much he cares about her and the next she’s being pulled away and the machinery around her is going crazy.

There’s a man in a white coat suddenly ushering them both out of the room.

“Why?!” he demands as he attempts to wriggle out of Lando’s grip, trying to dig his feet into the floor to prevent himself from being thrown out. “What’s going on?!

“No,” he protests, resisting Lando's pulling, “No, I need to see her-”

“Sir, you can’t be in there-“

“Why not?!” he demands, his voice rising in volume. “Why can’t I be in there?!”

Lando has his arm around Oscar's shoulders now, trying to physically pull him away. “Mate, we don’t want to get in the way-“

“No! I’m not-“

He stays frozen there like a historic statue, but the man is physically stronger and he’s not able to break free. It only serves to make him feel more claustrophobic.

Lando sighs. He never thought he’d need to wrestle Oscar. That kid’s got some serious fight in him.

He proceeds to put all his strength into holding Oscar back, trying to usher him into the waiting room. He can’t let Oscar thrown out of the hospital for not cooperating because forget the media circus - he’s not sure Oscar will be able to take not being able to see her.

Lando feels like something in his chest is cracking at the sight of seeing his teammate, his friend, practically his brother - the calm and rational one of the duo - fall apart.

Instantly, when he feels Oscar shift, Lando’s muscles tense in anticipation of holding him back as he tries to break free.

Except he doesn’t.

Lando looks down to find Oscar shaking.

He’s crying.

Oscar’s head is suddenly hung low, and his shoulders are hunched forward.

He’s practically shaking, on the verge of breaking down completely. And it probably shouldn’t be such a surprise - he’s been running on adrenaline the past few days, and it finally feels like his body is finally crashing. He’s leaning heavily against Lando, and it’s the only reason he’s being held upright.

He can’t help but think there’s a chance that while he’s out here, he’s losing one of his best friends.

That could be the last time he’d get to see her.

The possibility of that just makes him cry harder, his shoulders shaking violently despite his best efforts. He’s slumped against Lando now, practically being held up by his best friend. He buries his face in the crook of Lando’s shoulder, not even trying to fight any more.

“It’s okay, mate. You’re okay, you’re alright, yeah?“

The words help somewhat - Lando’s familiar voice, and the firm embrace - but he can’t help the broken sobs. His brain is running through the last few days, the last few hours, over and over.

“I can’t do this,” he rasps suddenly, his voice shaking. “I don’t know how to do it without her.”

“I know, I know…”

“I’ve never even…” he chokes out, shaking his head. “I’ve never even told her-“

“You’ll get to,” Lando winces, trying to console his friend. He inhaled deeply, internally praying to any deity that exists that he isn’t lying to him.

“You will. Breathe, mate.”

Lando stands there, arms locked around the younger man for what feels like forever. He’s not sure if it’s because he’s afraid he’ll hurt himself somehow or collapse to the floor. It’s a while later when his body finally loosens up a bit.

“I’m tired,” he mumbles over Lando’s shoulder, his voice still shaky.

“Yeah,” Lando breathes shakily. At least he’s talking. “Yeah, o’course. Let’s get you sat, yeah?”

He nods his head weakly, allowing himself to be guided over to some of the nearby seats. He collapses onto the chair. His head is in his hands, his elbows on his knees, and takes several shaky breaths as he tries to regain some sense of control over his own body.

Get it together.

Lando is awoken a few hours later by the sound of approaching footsteps.

He’s startled and disoriented when he’s suddenly woken up, and he has to spend a couple seconds piecing together where he is. He always did appreciate a good nap.

He tries to process the time - it’s dark outside. He’s in a waiting room chair, and Oscar’s in the seat beside him, sleeping with his head propped up on the palm of his hand.

His eyes instantly lock onto the person approaching them, and he blinks a couple times before recognizing the doctor from earlier. The woman seems nice enough with deep smile lines and warm auburn hair. She speaks quietly, presumably in an effort not to wake the sleeping man beside him.

“Mr. Piastri?”

Lando gives a quick nod, silently gesturing to Oscar as he does. He’s the other one.

He looks over, gently shaking at Oscar’s shoulder. “Hey, wake up, mate. It’s the doctor.”

Oscar’s eyes instantly shoot open, and he sits up quickly, any remaining drowsiness from sleep disappearing instantly. He’s instantly alert, his body tense, and a hopeful sort of fear in his eyes.

“Mr. Piastri?” she tries again.

“Yes,” he acknowledges, his voice coming out a little shaky. All the fatigue and tiredness from before seem to have left him at the doctor’s approach.

“Oscar Piastri?” she confirms.

“That’s me,” he nods again, watching her carefully. He’s trying to judge her expression, figure out what kind of news she’s come to give him. His heart is skipping beats, playing some sort of sick game, as he holds his breath.

“She keeps asking for you.”

The words immediately have the tension in his body dropping.

“She- What?” His tone is disbelieving, but there’s a part of him that feels lightheaded with relief.

The doctor smiles warmly at him, happy to be able to give some good news. “We’ve been successful in artificially resetting the bone in her ribs as well as patching the lung puncture.”

Pausing before she continues, she tells him, “In fact, you were very lucky to catch her when you did - if the nurses hadn’t seen her then, she likely would have choked-“

“Is she okay?” He swallows hard, trying to hide his voice shaking. “That means she’s well then, right?”

The doctor nods. “She’s still healing though, of course,” she reminds him, with a hint of an accent filtering through. Scottish, perhaps?

“I can see her?” he asks hopefully, already getting to his feet. “I can go in?”

The doctor nods in confirmation, before flipping a page up on her clipboard. “Just a few things before she has any visitors:

No outside food for the patient, and we wanna be as gentle as possible with her. Let's also try to avoid anything that would cause her stress - she’s just come out of surgery and we want her to recover nicely. Alright?”

He nods quickly, not even really caring what she’s saying to him at this point as long as it means that he can see her.

“Yes, of course. No stress. Gentle. I’ll do whatever you say.”

The doctor shoots Lando a wary look. Lando gives her a weak smile - He's harmless, he tries to tell her. “I need to see her,” Oscar explains, like it's the most obvious thing.

“He just wants to see her,” Lando reassures her. “Let him, yeah?”

Oscar shoots Lando a grateful look, before turning back to the doctor, his eyes practically begging the woman to let him in. She smiles kindly, turning around to guide the young man to Y/N’s room.

"That's funny,” she smiles, the kind that even has her teeth on display. “She said the same thing about you."

For the first time in what feels like so long, he starts to allow himself a spark of hope, and it makes his heart beat a little faster. His eyes roam over the doors on either side of them as the doctor leads him closer and closer to her room, his heart in his throat.

“When she was asking for me,” he asks, aiming for casual. “What did she say?”

The woman glances back at him and gives him a knowing look, like she knows something he doesn’t.

“That she wanted to see you,” she tells him as she stops before a door halfway down the hall. “She kept asking to see if you were here or around - likely to reassure herself.”

She chuckles, a deep, hearty laugh. “But she was quite determined - nearly told off a nurse before we finally calmed her down.”

The thought of her asking about him, and asking to see him, soothes a part of him that he wasn’t even aware was aching.

He lets out a shaky exhale of relief, his entire body relaxing as the doctor stops in front of a room. His gaze locks onto the door, and then back at the doctor, his eyes wide with anticipation.

"Don't worry," the doctor reassures kindly. "Your girlfriend is quite brave. The hard part is over, - she'll be okay."

“She’s not-“ He clears his throat, forcing himself to speak again. “Can I go in?”

"Of course," she replies softly, opening the door for him to enter before turning away to leave them be.

He gives her a short, grateful smile - before finally turning back to the open door. But then his eyes land on her figure on the bed and his breath catches in his throat.

She seems so small, so silent and peaceful. She’s covered in cuts and bruises that look fresh, dark purple and red marks covering her skin. And there’s an IV on her arm and god, he’d tear this place to pieces if he thought it’d bring her any comfort.

His eyes scan over her body, taking in the injuries on her, the way the bruises and cuts are scattered along her skin. His stomach clenches, bile suddenly threatening to rise up and overtake him. It’s more than he’d been expecting - more than he could ever be prepared for, the thought of her in this much pain-

He forces himself to take several deep breaths, steadying himself before continuing to approach the bed - slowly, carefully, like a scared animal.

“Y/N?” he murmurs under his breath. She barely stirs.

He gently places a hand on her shoulder, gently - so gently, mindful of the cuts and bruises scattered across her skin as he tries to shake her shoulder.

"Wake up,” he whispers under his breath, his fingers trembling. “Wake up, c’mon.”

She's disturbed from the thick haze of sleep by the feeling of warm fingers touching her skin.

Huh?

He feels her wake up, her body stirring as he keeps his hand on her shoulder, trying to soothe her and reassure himself all at once.

“Hey,” he murmurs, as she starts to open her eyes. “Hey there-“

Eyes still bleary with sleep, her mind races to figure out what's going on. "O- Oscar...?"

She looks tired and disoriented, and it makes something in his stomach clenches. But the sound of his name from her lips is like a cool mist, soothing and familiar all at once.

“Yeah,” he confirms softly, his fingers gently tracing the same circle on her shoulder. “Yeah, it’s me.”

Hearing Oscar’s voice after so long makes something in her chest feel weird and warm and-

“Oscar.”

He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he murmurs, his fingers running gently through the strands of hair at the nape of her neck as his other hand traces small circles at her shoulder.

“I’m here,” he reassures, his tone as gentle as possible. Unsure of what to do or how to approach this, he resigns to standing there awkwardly. “I’m here. You, uh- you asked for me?”

Before she realizes, her face is wet with tears. Warm droplets trickle down her cheeks, dripping off her chin and onto her neck. She can barely see Oscar through her blurred vision.

“Whoa, whoa, shhhh,” he murmurs, trying to soothe her. “Hey, s’alright - shh, it’s okay. It’s okay, you’re okay, I’m here.”

He reaches forward, gently brushing the tears off her cheek. As the sniffles finally subside and Oscar takes a seat by her hospital bed, she turns her head toward him, taking in his presence. Every detail is one she’s trying to commit to memory - the swoop of his hair, the warmth of his eyes, the freckles that decorate his skin.

He tries to keep his expression encouraging, reassuring as she stares at him, but he’s sure that he looks as terrified and devastated as he feels. Instead of commenting on his own state of mind, he tries his luck. “Is it okay if I hold your hand?”

“Can we go?”

He tilts his head, not entirely registering what she’s said.

“What?”

She blinks once, slowly. “I want to go. Can you take me-“

“No,” he replies abruptly - before catching himself, mentally scolding himself for the sharp tone he’d used.

Instead, he tries to soften his tone as he gently adds, “No, Y/N. You need to stay here - you’re hurt, and you need medical care. They need to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine now,” she tries. Whether it's the medications or the sleep or whatever the hell is supposed to be in that IV, she has to find her thoughts through a haze. “They fixed me, remember? I can-“

“No, sweetheart,” he replies gently - but his tone is still firm. “You’re not leaving. Not until you’re properly healthy.”

She turns away, cross.

“You might feel fine now, but you- you were really hurt. You need to recover, and these people know how to take care of you,” he tries to explain.

“Whatever.” The syllables slur ever so slightly, making it sound more like whud-ever.

“It’s not fair of you to be mad at me for this,” he argues.

Her words are icy cold. “You can go now.”

His jaw clenches again, as he feels irritation stirring along with it.

“No,” he retorts, his voice still firm. “I’m sticking right by your side.”

“What if I don’t want you here?”

He falters at her words, something in his heart clenching.

“That’s not fair,” he retorts, the hurt clear from his voice. “You’re mad at me for no reason.”

She turns over, and continues her silent treatment.

His irritation boils over, and he grits his teeth for a moment, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath to settle himself down.

“Hey,” he murmurs, fondness bleeding through his voice inadvertently. Placing a hand on his shoulder, gently trying to turn her towards him. “Don’t be mad at me. Just- just talk to me.”

“I don’t wanna,” she mumbles gruffly. “I want to go home.”

He swallows against the painful lump in his throat that forms when he hears the word “home” from her lips.

“I know you do,” he answers, his voice gentle. “And I know you want to be out of here, but they’re trying to take care of you, yeah? This is the best place for you right now.”

She keeps ignoring him, hoping he’ll eventually go away.

He can feel his irritation rising as her silent treatment continues - trying to drown out the voice in his head telling him that she’s just scared and confused, and that she doesn’t really mean it.

“Stop it,” he tries again, his patience starting to run thin as he grabs her shoulder, and turns her towards him this time. “Don’t be like this. You have to know I'm trying to help.”

He’s only greeted by more silence.

He’s silent as well for a moment, his eyes still fixed on the heart monitor, watching the steady rise and fall of the screen, the steady, slow beeping that tells him she’s okay, she’s okay.

He tries to keep his voice quiet and steady, to avoid letting his frustration show. “Please just say something. Don’t do this.”

The silence is deafening, and he hates every second of it.

With a small noise of frustration, he reaches out to grab her shoulder, his fingers wrapping gently around it as he tries to pull her towards him. When she’s forced to turn, he finds she’s hastily wiping away tears.

All of the irritation and frustration and even a little bit of anger immediately evaporates, leaving only the urge to pull her into his arms and hold her until she feels better. Without thinking, he gently uses his hand on her shoulder to pull her towards him, helping her up into a sitting position and then gently pulls her against his side, wrapping a secure arm around her.

He’s quiet for a moment, just holding her close to his side as he feels her body shaking against his. He moves the hand that’s wrapped around her, sliding his fingers gently into her hair, gently massaging her scalp in an attempt to help calm her.

“You can cry,” he murmurs gently against her head, placing a gentle kiss against her hair. “It’s okay, s’alright.”

“M’not,” she mumbles. “I don’t want to be here.”

“I know. I know you don’t..” he sympathizes. “But you need to be here for a while - you need to rest.”

She plays along. “Yeah,” she sniffles. “I s’pose so.”

His hand moves without consciously meaning to, wrapping a gentle hand around her other shoulder and pulling her entirely into his side, so that she’s practically falling against him, leaning heavily against his torso.

“Right,” he murmurs, resting his chin on the top of her head. “Just rest, okay? Rest - I’ve got you.”

He keeps her close against his side, still absently moving his fingers through her hair as he tries to keep her calm and settled. But what comes out of his mouth is, “You’re still mad at me, huh?”

“Actually…”

He lifts an eyebrow, his hand briefly stopping the soft massage, his heart briefly stopping when it does. “Actually?” he prompts gently.

It’s a wonder that Oscar doesn’t comment on how heart is thudding against her chest. Maybe its because he’s being polite. Yeah, he seems like the type to do that. Or maybe he doesn’t have good hearing. Stallard should probably know about that-

Her mental rambling is only cut off when somehow, words tumble out of her mouth, seemingly of her own accord. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to lay in the bed,” she mumbles, except the words come so rapidly that they’re barely understandable.

Immediately, she goes to backtrack. “Or not! It’s fine actually-“

For a moment, she watches as he just blinks at her. It’s a little disconcerting, really.

“Move,” he instructs her softly, gently maneuvering her so that he can climb in the bed beside her. Eh, he figures. They’ve been in worse situations than this.

Once he’s settled behind her, he pulls her back closer to his chest, tucking her tight against his side, her back against his chest, and wrapping an arm snugly around her waist. He closes his eyes, his chin resting on the top of her head. “Better?”

“Mhmm,” she hums contentedly.

He can feel himself smiling as he relaxes, his body melting against hers. He feels her relax against him as well, her shoulders losing some of their tension, and his free hand moves to rest gently on her stomach.

It’s over two hours later when Lando starts getting fidgety - the man is not exactly known for his ability to sit still. It’s been a while since he’s heard from his teammate, and he hasn’t heard any updates. Once Lando reaches his third round of pacing, his phone finally lights up with texts from Oscar:

She's okay

Doctor says she'll be alright

But we're both tired, so I'm going to stay the night.

Oscar glances down at where Y/N is resting against his chest, and he feels some of the tension leave his shoulders.

Lando successfully forces sends Oscar home to get some real rest before tomorrow’s free practice - only after Oscar makes him swear on his favorite golf club that Lando’d call him immediately if anything happened. He grabs an extra chair and pulls it over so that it sits right by her bedside, and he sits down on it, watching her.

The sight of her like this feels incorrect, like those AI images that distort reality. The hospital room, the tubes, the bandages and the bruising and the cuts - none of it looks right. His mind struggles to wrap itself around how her parents could have done this to her.

He’s lost in thought, his knuckles absently running up and down the back of her hand, when suddenly, her eyes flutter open.

“…O- Osc?”

She’s disoriented when she first opens her eyes, confused to find herself still in a hospital room when she’d fallen asleep beside Oscar. But then she looks up, and she sees Lando’s face.

“Hey… hey,” he says softly, smiling gently down at her as he keeps his voice quiet. “It’s me.”

“Oscar? Where’s Oscar? He was just…“ She looks around, confused. How much morphine have they been giving her?

“He’s at home,” her companion corrects eagerly, his voice gentle. “He had to go home, get some proper sleep. But he let me chill here and hang out with you.”

“He left?”

“Yeah,” he says gently, still speaking softly. “Only for the night, though.”

He keeps rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand, trying to soothe her before she gets more upset than she already is.

“Oh.”

Lando’s heart clenches with pity when he notices the look on her face, her expression fallen, and his voice drops even further down to a whisper.

“I know you’re disappointed,” he consoles quietly. “But believe me when I say he needs the rest. You’ll see him again soon.”

Lando takes a moment to examine her in the hospital bed. He doesn’t need to be a doctor to notice how small she looks in the hospital bed - she always is in comparison with him and Oscar, but this just highlights it even more.

“How are you feeling right now? Are you in any pain?” he asks, his voice still lowered.

“I’m… feeling much better, actually,” she says carefully. If she lays it on too thick, Lando won’t believe her. “The meds have been helping.”

“You sure?” he asks, his voice doubtful, looking at her in a somewhat skeptical manner. “You’re really not in any pain?”

“Just a bit of discomfort, but that’s it,” she lies through her teeth. In reality, any real jostling of her midsection sends a searing pain through her side.

Lando gives her an uncertain look, still not fully convinced by her reassurances. His eyes search her face for any kind of hint to her real pain level, but she’s gotten too good at hiding it over the years for him to tell now.

He sighs. “Okay, fine. But if that changes, you’ve got to tell someone, alright?”

“Of course,” she smiles.

He gives her a look that says he’s still not convinced, but decides not to press the issue.

He returns the smile, gently squeezing her hand.

“Good.”

A beat.

“Are you hungry, thirsty? Or… or something?”

“I’m alright,” she answers, but is immediately interrupted by the sound of her stomach grumbling.

He smirks, raising an eyebrow. “Mmhmm. ‘Alright’, huh?”

He takes the hint though, standing up straight and offering her a smile. “You stay put. I’ll go find a nurse and see if I can get you something to eat or drink.”

Like she can go anywhere. “Lando?”

He’s halfway out the door already, but he pauses in the doorway, turning back when her voice calls out to him. “Yeah?”

“Think the cafeteria has mac n’ cheese?”

“Macaroni and cheese?” He repeats, sounding amused, but he’s still somewhat confused by it. “Like, mac n’ cheese, specifically?”

“Just a craving,” she mutters sheepishly.

“You are… something else,” he chuckles, shaking his head. Bringing his hand to his forehead in a mock salute, he declares, “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you! You’re the best!” she whisper-yells after him,

He turns to head into the hallway again, and he throws a smile at her over his shoulder before disappearing out the door.

He returns to the room about fifteen minutes later, a large mug of hot tea and a bowl of what smells like shepherd’s pie in his hands. “Made you a cuppa,” he informs her, before her gaze lands on the fresh goods.

“Is that-“

Lando holds the steaming box out to her with an amused smirk, clearly proud of himself for his accomplishment. “Shepherd’s pie,” he confirms confidently, giving her a smile. “Just as you ordered, madam.”

“You didn’t.”

He grins, holding it out to her - he actually went and did it.

“I did indeed.”

“Wasn’t it closed?” she asked as she brought the tray table closer to herself, eyeing the comfort food with delight.

The first bite is so good she has to close her eyes to savor it. The warm, hearty food feels like manna from heaven for her weakened body - she could cry tears of joy. There’s no way this food was made in a hospital cafeteria.

Lando sets the tea on the table, watching her as she tries the food, and can’t help the smile that spreads on his face when he sees how pleased she is with the food he chose.

“Closed, yes,” he says, sitting back down on the chair he’d previously been in. “But I’m very charming and persuasive.”

“So you ordered it from a shop.”

He grins.

“And who’s the smart one?” he asks, watching her eat. “Turns out the place next door does a pretty amazing Shepherd’s pie. Who knew?”

She’s too happy at the food to be bothered to tease him back. “This is amazing, dude. You’re the best.”

He can’t help but smile again, watching her enjoying the food he got like it’s the best thing she has had in years. He’s happy to have done this one thing to make her happy - he can’t help but tease, though. “Well, you know…”

He sits back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest.

“I am pretty great.”

“Alright, alright,” she says, waving him off. Now that she’s gotten a few bites in her, she gets a bit quieter. Eating and chewing is a surprisingly exhaustive task for someone who’s still on the mend.

She wipes the corner of her mouth, before finally turning to Lando.

“How is he?” she asks quietly.

He’s a bit surprised when she shifts the conversation, turning to ask about how Oscar is doing now, but he still answers willingly.

“He’s…” Lando hesitates a moment, searching for a word that would most accurately describe the situation .

“He’s… not great right now,” he says at last. Might as well be honest. “But… I think he’ll pull through. He’s a bit of a mess, but he’s… alright.”

“Yeah,” she sighs softly. She doesn’t look at Lando as she says it, feeling too responsible for his predicament. Instead, she tries her best to clean up after her meal - wrapping away the leftovers that feel like too much work to eat right now.

She gives her friend a tired smile before yawning. “Do you think it’s okay if I get some rest?”

He eyes her carefully, noticing the exhaustion on her face. “Yeah, f’course,” he assures her, standing up from the chair. “You’ve had a long few days. You should rest while you can.”

He takes the leftovers and sets them on the bedside table, before pulling the blankets up to her shoulders.

“Thanks, Lan,” she hums, before her eyes fall shut.

Lando doesn’t know when his own eyes fall shut, but they do.

Oscar does not, in fact, return.

Over the course of the next few days, Y/N gets very familiar with the hospital’s jello variety. She decides that she likes fruit punch the most, but that isn’t much of a surprise. What does surprise her, however, is when she wakes to a beautiful bouquet by her bedside. It’s an elegant collection, a haze of lavender florals - peonies and chrysanthemums - beautifully framed by stems of baby’s breath.

She eagerly reaches for the gift, excited to examine it up close. There’s a note tucked into the silk white ribbon that ties the wrapping together - a small cardstock thing that seems to have something written on it. Carefully plucking it out with her fingers, her eyes drift across the angular scrawl, penned in black ink.

“Heard you decided to sit Silverstone out. Don’t worry, it

was boring anyway. You know it isn’t the same with you.

I’ll swing by sometime with bad puns and greasy pizza.

That’ll fix you up real quick, trust me.

Get well soon, Loser.”

A smile blooms on her face as she reads the thoughtful words. She searches the note, trying to find the identity of the sender so she can at least send them a message of gratitude. Turning the card over, there's a misshapen looking smiley face next to a familiar name.

Love ya,

Logan

She’s lucky to have a friend like Logan - another American on the paddock, one who’s taken up the role of annoying older brother. They’d met through Oscar, initially - back in those early weeks of their rookie seasons. But then the conversation went to whether or not pineapple belongs on pizza, and then the rest is history.

The card is returned to her bedside table as shuffles in her bed, turning over to get comfortable so she can take a nap.

Letting her head sink into the starchy fabric of the hospital pillow, she tries not to think of the feeling that rose up in her throat when the name on the card wasn’t the one she was looking for.

Lando wakes up to his butt uncomfortably numb. Someone seriously needs to work on a better replacement for these inconvenient contraptions disguised as chairs. Isn’t the hospital meant to make you feel better?

Lando’s fairly certain he was much better conditioned when he walked in this morning - at this rate, they may just have to wheel him out.

“-and this one you’re going to take orally 3 times a day, alright? So that’s every 8 hours, to help reduce pain and any inflammation.”

Lando blearily blinks at the noise, but the words slowly get his brain up to speed, and he sits up a little straighter. He glances at her, who looks about as sleepy as he does - her eyelids look heavy, and her voice is still a little hoarse from sleep.

“Okay,” she nods, taking the meds from the doctor, and putting them away in a bag by the bedside.

The doctor checks something off on her clipboard, before looking back up at the young woman seated on the side of the bed.

“Right then. And do you have someone with you at home who’ll be able to keep an eye on you these next few weeks once you go home today?”

Suddenly, Lando really doesn’t like the doctor or the way this conversation is going. He doesn’t like the idea of her being all alone for the next few weeks. With all the medication she’s on, she’s not going to be able to drive.

She nods. “Yeah. I do. I live with my boyfriend,” she smiles reassuringly. The lie is so good that it even has Lando confused.

She has a boyfriend? That she lives with?

Lando’s immediate next thought is, Does Oscar know?

But he keeps quiet as the doctor continues to finish up her lecture about Y/N’s instructions for care. Lando sits there quietly, not knowing what to think.

Boyfriend? That’s news to him. If she had a boyfriend that she was living with… wouldn’t he have known that?

He watches her as she quietly nods and talks with the doctor, and he’s left to wonder how long this boyfriend has been around. When the doctor finally leaves and the room goes quiet again, Lando lets out a little yawn and then turns around in his chair to face her. There’s a confused, almost suspicious look on his face as he regards the girl.

“So… you have a boyfriend?” Lando doesn’t know if he feels protective or betrayed, but neither make the conversation less awkward. In all the time the three have spent together, the young assistant has barely, if ever, brought up her dating life. Probably because she’s in love with her Google calendar.

“Hmm?” she says, gathering her things. Finally, free at last.

Lando can’t really blame her for wanting to get out of a hospital bed and away from the crappy food. But he also hasn’t forgotten about her boyfriend comment from earlier. He looks at her skeptically. “You said you live wit’ your boyfriend, do you?”

“Oh,” she shrugs. “Just told the doctor what she needed to hear so I could get outta here.”

Lando blinks at her - and he’s left with the sudden, weird urge to laugh for the first time all night. The Briton stares at her for a few more seconds, trying to sort out the mixed bundle of feelings running through his mind. Then, teasingly bumping his shoulder with hers and grinning like the cat who got the cream, he finally manages to ask, “So… Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No,” she says with a wave of her hand, like the mere notion is ridiculous. “Single as a pringle.”

“Yeah? That’s not what you told the doctor, though…” He sing-songs. If she is actually seeing someone, then Lando can’t help but be happy for her. He’d be even happier though if it was Oscar - then he could finally make good those on that cash from some of the other drivers.

Lando hums. He’s been meaning to add a new Richard Mille to his collection.

“She wanted to hear that I had someone at home in case something went awry. So that’s what I told her,” she explains simply. Once she’s done packing her things, she turns to Lando. “Ready to go? Oscar has a meeting soon and I’d like to be there for it.”

“So let me get this straight,” Lando says, no longer thinking of luxury watches. This time when he speaks, the tone of his voice is quite clear that he’s not happy with what he’s hearing. “You lied to a medical professional - told her you were living with a boyfriend - so you’d get discharged earlier… and there’s a meeting at work?”

“Yes,” she deadpans. “Now that you’re all caught up, can we go?”

When they arrive at the MTC, it’s business as usual. They each go their separate ways - Lando off to do whatever it is that Lando does, and Y/N to her office. She turns into the familiar space, dropping off her things, and taking inventory of the stack of papers that have accumulated on her desk in her absence.

Oscar’s sim session was okay. It wasn’t the greatest practice he’s had, but it wasn’t a complete disaster of a session either.

He tries not to think about the fact that he’s only semi-focused on the practice. His mind keeps wandering away from the simulator, and his eyes find their way to the office door that’s right across from the simulator room, where a familiar name plate adorns the door.

He shakes his head. His mind has been imagining her in this familiar setting - filling in the gaps where he’s used to her being. There’s been at least three occasions where he’s walking into her office, caught up in his theories or hypothetical to remember for a moment that she isn’t here.

A member of the janitorial staff saw him one of those times.

It was embarrassing, to say the least.

And yet his mind continues to picture her sitting at her desk. His brain supplies an image of her - a memory? - her, hard at work on her laptop or tablet, completely immersed, headphones on, chewing on her pen.

Except, when he blinks… the image of her is still there.

What the fuck?

“Good afternoon,” Y/N greets, trying to keep her voice as casual and even as she can.

He nearly jumps up at the sound of her voice - but it’s also a familiar, welcome sound. Before his mind can catch up to his brain, he lets out a blunt, “You shouldn’t be here.”

She flinches ever so slightly at that.

“Was discharged this morning,” she smiles professionally, trying to keep it light. She decides to leave out the part where she orchestrated her own discharge from the hospital so that she could be at work, because she has a feeling that her boss will not react well to that.

He wants to be relieved. He does. But he also can’t stop the feeling of annoyance at the idea of her returning to work within hours of being discharged from the hospital.

“Wait, let me get this straight,” he starts, and the irritation he feels is definitely showing in his voice. “You were discharged this morning, and you came here?”

Her lips press together into a straight line. He’s the one who’s annoyed?

“I am here now. Whether you choose to utilize my services or not is, of course, up to you.”

“That’s not an answer,” he counters, walking towards her. He’s definitely trying to suppress some feelings right now - irritation, relief at the sight of her, and something else that he can’t place.

“You’re supposed to be resting - not here,” he stresses, his stance and tone both authoritative.

“Oscar,” she hisses lowly. “I believe we have a guests.”

Y/N points her gaze in the direction of Zack and Andrea who seem to be making their rounds this morning, the CEO and team principal respectively. He turns to see both Andrea and Zack walking by and greeting people in the nearby rooms, handshakes and half hugs.

He can’t lose his cool now, even if what she’s doing right now is downright idiotic. He clenches his teeth, his jaw tight, but he manages to keep his irritation tampered down.

She can’t help but feel a little hurt by that. After everything, he could at least pretend to be happy to see her.

“Thank you, Mr. Piastri,” she says sarcastically, before plastering a fake smile onto her face. “Anything else?”

The too-tight smile she throws his way is unexpected.

He tries to ignore the fact that it makes him feel like the world’s biggest dickhead.

“Er… no,” he says, sounding a little unsure. “That should be everything.”

“Very well,” she nods curtly, before walking off to god knows where.

She sets course for her office. When she reaches the sleek door, she pushes against it with, letting herself inside.

Taking a seat on one of the armchairs placed by the coffee table, she leans her head back against the cushioned backing. Unshed tears of frustration stay locked in her chest, taking a deep sigh instead.

Why the fuck is she so worked up about this?

Everything is fine - she has no idea why she feels like shit. Oscar’s reaction to seeing her back from the hospital doesn’t mean anything.

It shouldn’t mean anything. Right?

He watches her leave his office, and the whole time - the whole time he feels like he can feel the disappointment radiating from her.

It’s unwarranted - she has no reason to be pissed at him when she’s the one who’s being an idiot, he tries to convince himself. But he doesn’t quite manage.

He knows he’s in for a long evening.

The nagging feeling in his gut leads him to her door. There’s no reason to be nervous, right? Y/N has been here for the good, the bad, and ugly - sleeve deprived rants and mood swing and one drink too many and even giving him a ride from the sheriff’s office that one time he caused a fender bender.

Before he thinks it over any more, he pushes again the elegant oak door.

Her office is some combination of elegant and cozy. To one side, there is a sitting area - cream coloured armchairs he’s been a frequent visitor of. Against the wall, navy bookshelves frame both sides of an art piece, the shelves of books punctuated by hand crafted decorations.

To the far end of the room is where her desk is, a large monitor displaying the McLaren logo adorning the glass wall. There’s a few picture frames oh er desk that he’s seen dozens of time’s before - a little boy at his first soccer game, friends at a birthday party, someone posing at the top of some rock formation. Her vase has been filled with dainty lilac flowers.

Her tall, black office chair sticks out, and it’s there he finds her, face illuminated by the glow of the computer she’s diligently working on. The clacking of keys is the only sound in the room, interrupted only when she turns to note something down.

She’s a vision. A beautiful, perfect vision, with her hair pulled back into a claw clip, loose strands framing her face. And he’s frozen in place, unable to do anything other than just stare.

His heart is racing out of his chest, and after seconds of just staring, he tries to get his mouth to work.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asks gruffly, surprised by how rough his voice comes out.

“Get lost, Lando,” she grumbles without looking. She’s not in the mood for Lando’s attempts to cheer her up - she just wants to be a miserable workaholic in peace.

He can’t help the chuckle that escapes his lips at that. It’s a quiet one, but hearing her think that he’s Lando amuses him.

“What, no time for me?” he asks, the tone of his voice teasing even though he’s feeling anything but on the inside.

Her eyes fly open in recognition, before she returns her attention to her desktop. Her eyes focus themselves on the facts and figures, making it a point not to pay him any attention.

“I’m not in the mood,” she mumbles, still upset from earlier. What is he even doing here?

The silent treatment, really? After he spent the whole afternoon worrying about her? She doesn’t get to just ignore him after he spent the whole day unable to function.

That thought makes him start to feel irritable. “I don’t care what ‘mood’ you’re in,” he snaps, not caring how harsh he sounds.

There’s something about the way she’s avoiding his gaze, ignoring him - she’s doing it on purpose. She’s making a point of deliberately looking away, looking elsewhere. It makes him frustrated, it makes him feel raw, like he’s suddenly vulnerable, out in the open.

“Look at me,” he says in an authoritative tone, his irritation seeping into his words.

“Don’t want to.”

His jaw clenches at her response. She’s being petulant, and maybe he does deserve it, but god does it piss him off.

He walks closer to her, stopping right before her and blocking her from moving any further away.

“I said look at me,” he repeats, his voice coming through gritted teeth.

With a roll of her eyes, she brings her gaze to his face.

He tries to resist the urge to immediately look her over - to make a visual catalog of each cut, bruise and injury on her skin, to catalog which specific shade of blue and red every mark is, to count how many stitches are on her forehead - to catalog the full extent of the damage that’s been done.

Instead, he forces himself to look into her eyes, his irritation turning into intense, barely concealed anger.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming back today,” he accuses, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Well, here I am.”

There’s more clicking, a shift in the color of the light reflecting her face as she switches between tabs. A beat of silence passes over the room.

“You done?” she says with a raised eyebrow.

Nope, he’s not done. He hasn’t even started.

“No, actually,” he shoots back, his anger bubbling up at her feistiness. “We’re not ‘done’ until we actually have a real conversation.”

“What are you on about?”

“You heard me,” he says, his voice more firm in response to her disbelief. “If you think we’re just pushing this to the side, and act like everything fair and dandy, then you’re very mistaken.”

Finally sparing him a glance, she tells him nonchalantly, “I don’t see much for us to talk about.”

His face scrunches, eyebrows pinching together as he holds back a scoff. “I’m the one over here who’s trying to fix whatever the hell this mess is,” he points out, gesturing with his finger between the two.. “I’m the one who’s actually worried about you, after what you went through -”

He breaks off abruptly, not wanting to go there.

She whips her head to the side when she hears that.

“Fuck off,” she spits, almost-tears in her eyes. “You don’t get to act like you care about me whenever you feel like it and then decide you don’t whenever you want.”

“Goddamnit - that’s not what I do!”

Anger is rising in his chest. Does she really think that he only cares when he feels like it? Does she have any idea how much time he spends worrying about her, how many times he has to hold himself back because he’s worried of crossing a line?

“You just don’t want to accept that I do care about you,” he accuses, his voice rising, his temper flaring.

Her reply is immediate, a pre-loaded bullet.

“No, ‘Hi, how are you?’ or ‘Glad to have you back.’ No, instead,” she scoffs, “the first words out of your mouth after you see me is, ‘You’re not supposed to be here?’”

That stops him in his tracks.

His eyes widen in realization as he’s suddenly hit with the realization of just how cold and shitty his first words to her had been.

No greeting, no ‘good to have your back’, no ‘glad you’re okay’ - just accusations. His heart clenches in his chest as he realizes it - how careless he must have sounded.

“You know,” she laughs humorlessly, like it’s an inside joke that only she is in on. “I can’t believe I was foolish enough to think that night meant something to you.”

Images of that night, what feels like years ago, flash in her mind - his tender touches, his caring whispers, those soft kisses they shared. The way he’d confessed how much he cared about her as he patched her up, how he’d come to her aid when she needed it most.

“But apparently not. Because apparently it’s really easy to ignore me for a whole week, to give me the cold shoulder all day, right? To make sure you have anyone else to replace the work I do for you every day?”

The words feel like a slap to the face.

He feels the anger in his gut subside, being replaced by immediate regret.

“That’s not what it was-” he stumbles over his words, his voice coming out more pleading than he’d like to admit.

“That’s not what any of it was,” he shakes his head emphatically, trying to make her understand, make her see that he didn’t mean to come off the way he had. “I was just- I was just worried about you, I-”

“Tell me you didn’t have Kelsey schedule your meetings then. Or have Hendrix manage your correspondence. Or, maybe you didn’t specifically ask for Annika to run your errands just so that you wouldn’t have to talk to me.”

His heart is in his stomach. When she says it like that - lists all his actions out in such a clinical way - it sounds so damn manipulative that he doesn’t have an immediate response.

“It wasn’t like that-” he tries to protest, trying to say something, anything to make her understand that no, that wasn’t him trying to give her the cold shoulder, that wasn’t him trying to get away from her.

She puts a hand up to halt his train of thought.

“Look, it’s one thing to disagree with a personal decision of mine, but to punish me for it professionally?” Her tone is as incredulous as it is hurt.

“I work very hard, and I am damn good at my job,” she states, certain. “There is a reason it takes so many people to fill in for what I do everyday.”

She takes a breath, trying to keep her voice even.

“So you do not get to insult me and my work this way.”

He takes a few steps towards her, his hands itching desperately to reach out and grab her. He wants to grab her shoulders, make her look at him - to just let him say something, but she’s right.

“I know,” he says quietly, his voice laced with shame, “I know you do good work. I was just…”

“I was just mad,” he confesses with a reluctant sigh. “I was mad that everything… everything happened, and I didn’t know what to do. And I know that’s a terrible excuse, but I didn’t- I was just feeling all these- feelings, and I reacted like an - an ass, and I…”

He runs his hand along his face, exhaling in frustration.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for how I acted.”

She continues to glare at him, silent.

He hates the way she’s looking at him - like the sight of him hurts her.

“Please,” he whispers, hating the pleading tone that crept into his voice. “Please, don’t look at me like that. Just- just let me make up for it, yeah? Let me make this right. Can you… can you at least…?”

He slowly starts moving closer to her - one, then two steps.

She moves back.

“‘At least’ what? What do you want from me now?”

He takes another step, the distance between them now a mere foot. When he’s standing just in front of her, he stops.

His heart is lodged in his throat.

“Can… can I touch you?”

“Why? You want me to be your charity case again? Something you can hold and try to fix to make yourself feel better?”

Okay, maybe that was a bit too far. But she was scared because she was this close to forgiving him, to letting all the anger dissipate like it never existed and letting him hold her like he did so many nights ago.

She shouldn’t forgive him so easily. She shouldn’t want to forgive him so quickly.

He shouldn’t influence her as easily as he does.

He winces, as if she’d physically hit him with those words. He hates the way she’s reacting - hates how she’s talking like she doesn’t know him.

“No,” he says shakily, the word coming out as a breath. “No, I… you’re not a charity case. I just-”

He’s desperate now, desperate to fix this.

“I want to hold you,” he says quietly, his voice breaking. “I just want to hold you.”

“Why?” she tries to sound demanding, angry, cross with him. But her voice cracks instead.

The sound of her voice cracking makes his chest ache.

“Because I care about you,” he says, the words coming out rushed. “Because I’m terrified that you’ll disappear. And because after everything that’s happened these last couple days, I… I just want to hold you in my arms and make sure that you’re real. That you’re here. I just want you.”

“Please,” he whispers. “Please just let me hold you.”

His heart is beating so damn fast that it’s making his head fuzzy, but he needs her to say yes.

She eyes him warily. This wouldn’t be the first time he acted like he cared about her like this, only to distance himself after.

“I’m not leaving,” he says slowly, his voice serious. “I’m not going to push you away. I swear. I swear to you, I will not push you away again this time, okay?”

He reaches out slowly, trying to seem as unthreatening as possible, and puts his hand lightly to her wrist - just barely keeping his touch there, like he’s afraid she’ll recoil away.

“Please,” he whispers, his eyes never leaving hers. “Please just… just give me a chance. Let me just have this one thing. Please.”

Still eyeing him, she gives him the barest nod.

She’s never been that good at saying no to him anyway.

Slowly, he moves closer to her, taking one small step at a time. His hands hover at her shoulders for a moment, pulling her to stand up, before he reaches out again and gently pushes her shirt sleeves up slightly, exposing her bare forearms.

She watches him curiously, wondering what he’s doing.

He carefully wraps his fingers loosely around both of her wrists, being mindful of a bruise, and gently guides them up and around his shoulders.

His hands settle on her hips, and then he hesitates. He knows she’s still upset. He knows that he’s still got to apologize and make it up to her properly, but right now, he desperately just wants her close. So he takes a deep breath and gently pulls her body closer, until he can feel her flush against him.

He rests his chin on the top of her head, and god, she feels so good in his arms. She feels so right, and he doesn’t even care that she’s hurt and angry with him right now - she’s here. She’s here, and she’s not pushing him away.

She inhales and that scent that’s so Oscar fills her senses.

She wonders why Oscar smells like coming home.

His hands rub up and down her body slowly - still as gentle as he can manage, not wanting to overstep. He feels her flinch when he accidentally brushes his fingers over a patch of bruise just above her hip bone, and he quickly moves his hand to other spots.

He just wants to hold her. He wants to be close to her.

“Do friends hug like this?” she whispers, not daring to look at him.

The question catches him off guard, and he freezes for a moment.

“No,” he says slowly, his voice barely above a whisper. He continues his slow rhythm of rubbing up and down along her body, tracing an invisible pattern of loops and circles. Silence falls over the room like a blanket of fog, the night sky a backdrop to the intimacy of two people.

“No, I don’t think friends do,” he says quietly.

“You kissed me. The other night, at your place - you kissed me,” she murmurs into his embrace.

He doesn’t move for a moment, absorbing the words.

“I did,” he says simply.

His hands continue to gently rub up and down against her form, his touch careful and calculated. It’d be so easy, so easy just to slip his hands beneath the fabric of her clothes, to just touch her - skin to skin. But not yet.

“And when I did, you kissed me back,” he says quietly.

Her breathing hitches - she wasn’t sure he’d remember.

“I did,” she admits quietly.

A warm feeling begins to take root in his chest and he tightens his hold around her. Pulling his head back, his hooked finger tilting up her chin, he tries to read her eyes.

“And if I were to kiss you again right now, do you think you’d kiss me back?” he asks slowly, his voice still a soft whisper.

She looks up at him, eyes meeting his.

“Only one way to find out,” she breathes.

He holds her gaze for a moment longer, searching her face for any sign of discomfort or uncertainty.

And then he’s carefully lifting one of his hands to her face, his fingers barely coming to rest against her cheek. He rubs the pad of his thumb across her cheek for a moment, just wanting to savor the brief feeling, before gently tilting her head up.

And then he’s slowly lowering his head down, until he can just barely feel her breath against his lips.

Foreheads pressed together, all she can see, feel, breathe is him.

“Don’t play with my heart like this,” she murmurs against his lips.

He swallows hard.

“I’m not,” he breathes quietly, his eyes closed. He can’t bring himself to open them now - he’s scared of what he’ll see in her expression.

He hesitates. He wants to kiss her, wants to kiss her so bad, but he’s not sure she’ll let him. He’s not sure she trusts him again yet.

He moves his head slightly, his nose just brushing against hers.

“I won’t,” he says quietly, this time with more conviction - more force. “I swear I will never hurt you again. I’ll prove it, I’ll show you-“

His words are interrupted by a knock at her door.

They have the worst timing.

Part 4

#formula 1 fic #oscar x assistant!reader #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri #oscar piastri angst #oscar piastri x reader #please read and validate me #saffu's works #formula 1

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writerfromshikahr · 24 days ago

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I wrote this silly little piece as I was inspired by a talented modder I know on Bsky that has the most stunning Rook I have ever seen and wears this particular outfit flawlessly. I can imagine my little Dwarf Rook desperately trying to look as gorgeous as her and so I came up with this.

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The Invitation - Lucanis X Rook

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Rook stepped into the central room of the Lighthouse wearing The Invitation, already regretting her decision. The feathered shoulders felt a bit too ostentatious, the open chest made her feel oddly drafty, and the necklaces jingled with every movement. It was completely impractical for stealth. Yet, every other Crow seemed to pull the look off effortlessly. If Teia could do it, then so could she, though Teia was taller, more graceful, and undeniably stunning in a way that Rook often felt she couldn’t match.

Being a Dwarf made things...different. Her shortness and stocky build were challenges she couldn’t entirely ignore, no matter how much confidence she tried to muster. But she had never let such thoughts stop her before. Rook would push through this, just as she tackled everything else in life, with determination and grit. She and Lucanis had only been together officially for a month, and she wasn’t entirely sure how he would react.

Lucanis was seated at the table in the centre of the room, meticulously cleaning one of his daggers when she cleared her throat.

“I got the armour,” Rook said, gesturing to herself with a small flourish.

Lucanis’s eyes lifted, and Maker above, he froze. The dagger clattered onto the desk as his hand went slack. His gaze flickered to her face, then to her chest, then back to her face, and he was immediately caught in a loop, unable to decide where to focus.

“I…” he started, the words trailing off as he gestured vaguely to her torso. “I can see your whole…” He waved a hand in her direction, floundering like a man who had just lost every ounce of his smooth assassin composure. “I can see everything!”

Rook blinked, crossing her arms awkwardly over her chest. “I think that’s the point, Lucanis. It’s supposed to distract the target.”

“Well, it’s working,” he muttered under his breath, raking a hand through his hair. “But, how is this sensible armour? The necklaces, your—” He gestured again at her chest, completely helpless. “How do your…stay in there?”

Rook’s cheeks flushed as she glanced down. “They just… do.” She shifted her weight, feeling her earlier confidence slip away. “So you’re saying I don’t look good in it.”

Lucanis’s eyes snapped up to hers, wide with alarm. “No! No, that’s not what I mean. You look…” He took a deep breath, visibly trying to compose himself. “You look incredible.”

“Then what’s the problem?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

Lucanis groaned, leaning back in his chair as if the very weight of his thoughts was too much to bear. “How am I supposed to complete contracts to the standard expected of me when you’re standing next to me looking like that?”

Her mouth opened slightly, stunned. “You mean you’re… distracted?”

Lucanis gave her a pained look. “I have no idea where to look! Your chest? The feathers? The… your…” He gestured weakly again, “I’m a professional, Rook, but even I have limits.”

Rook snort-laughed, her earlier awkwardness fading. “So what you’re saying,” she teased, stepping closer, “is that I look so good I might be a liability?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Well,” she said, her confidence blooming once more, “I’ll take that as a compliment. Though I would never wear this out on a job.”

“Disappointing, but probably for the best,” Lucanis replied with a wry smile. “The Demon of Vyrantium meeting his end because he couldn’t keep his eyes on the target would be….embarrassing.”

#lucanis dellamorte #lucanis x rook #rook #rookanis #rookanisfanfic #fem rook #dwarf rook #dragon age the veilguard #these two are my world #aloisia de riva

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lvnleah · 2 months ago

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welcome to the world.

find the series masterlist here!

November 2032 | 7 & 3 years old.

40 weeks.

The nursery was ready, and every inch of the house was as clean as anything, but your baby girl was taking her time. Leah was now officially past her due date, and it was clear to both of you that she was beyond frustrated. She tried everything: spicy food, long walks, even bouncing on that damn birthing ball for hours on end.

Nothing seemed to work.

“Why doesn’t she want to come out?” Leah muttered, her voice tinged with exhaustion and a hint of desperation as she paced around the living room, one hand pressed to her aching lower back.

You glanced up from your spot on the couch, where you were trying to fold tiny onesies for what felt like the hundredth time. “She’s just taking her sweet time, I guess. You know, making a grand entrance.”

Leah groaned, rolling her eyes. “I swear, if she doesn’t come soon, I’m going to lose my bloody mind!”

You stood up, walking over to her and wrapped your arms around her waist as best as you could with her swollen belly between you. “She’ll be here soon, love. Just a little longer.”

“I’m so over this,” she whispered, her forehead resting against your shoulder as she fought back tears. “I just want her out.”

You held her close, gently swaying back and forth. “I know, love. I know. It’s rough when you’re so uncomfortable but I promise you that feeling when you first hold them is so worth it.”

“Mumma!” You heard Ellie say, followed by the sound of tiny feet running. “Look at my drawing!”

Ellie was now three so she was at that age where she and Finley could finally play together and their favourite thing to do together was colour. You’d set them up earlier in the kitchen with some snacks, paper and pencils while you and Leah tried to fold baby onesies.

Leah forced a smile, though you could see the strain in her eyes as she turned to face Ellie. “What have you drawn, bubba?”

Ellie proudly held up a piece of paper covered in a riot of colours, shapes, and squiggles. “It’s us, Mumma! ‘Ou, me, Finn, Mummy, and baby sister!”

Leah crouched down slowly, her face scrunching with discomfort as she tried to get on Ellie’s level. Her hand pressed against her belly, and you noticed her wince slightly as she bent. “Wow! It’s beautiful, Ells. Look at all those colours!”

Ellie beamed, her eyes shining with pride. “‘Ou like it?”

“I love it!” Leah assured her, reaching out to ruffle her daughter’s hair. “You’re so talented, baby girl.”

Ellie’s smile faltered as she took in the sight of Leah struggling to get back up. “Mumma, are ‘ou otay?”

Leah’s face softened, and she nodded quickly. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Just a bit tired from carrying baby sissy.”

You stepped in, scooping Ellie up into your arms, your heart aching as you watched Leah try to stand. She used the armrest of the couch for support, and you knew how hard it was for her, how much she hated feeling so restricted, so helpless.

“Why don’t we put your drawing on the fridge?” you suggested to Ellie, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “It’s too good not to show off!”

Ellie giggled, wrapping her arms around your neck. “Okay, Mummy!”

As you carried Ellie into the kitchen, you glanced back at Leah. She was standing now, her hand still on her back, her eyes glazed with tears she was trying desperately to blink away. You knew how much it hurt her to not be able to pick up the kids, to not be as physically involved as she wanted to be. Leah had always been hands-on, wrestling with Finley and Ellie in the backyard, carrying them around the house, making them laugh. Now, even bending down was a struggle.

You stuck Ellie’s drawing to the fridge with a magnet, and she clapped her hands excitedly. “It looks so good!”

“It does, bubba,” you agreed, brushing a stray curl away from her forehead. “You’re amazing!”

Ellie grinned before wriggling out of your arms and running back into the living room, her little feet thumping on the hardwood floors. You followed, finding her tugging at Leah’s hand, trying to lead her to the couch.

“Mumma, sit! ‘Ou need rest!” Ellie declared, her tone far too serious for a three-year-old.

Leah let out a soft laugh, her eyes brimming with affection as she allowed Ellie to guide her to the couch. “Alright, bossy boots!”

Leah sat down with a sigh, her hand instinctively going to her belly, rubbing slow circles. You sat down beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“You okay?” you asked softly, your thumb brushing over her shoulder.

She leaned into you, her head resting against your shoulder. “I’m just… I feel so useless,” she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “I can’t even pick up my own kids.”

“Leah, you’re not useless,” you said firmly, “You’re growing our baby girl. That’s not nothing.”

“I know,” she whispered, blinking rapidly. “But it’s so hard. Ellie doesn’t understand why I can’t play with them like I used to. Finley does though, he’s a sweet boy.”

Your heart clenched at the vulnerability in her voice, the pain she was trying so hard to hide. “They do understand, love. And they adore you. Just look at Ellie fussing over you, telling you to rest. You’re still their Mumma, and they love you, bump and all.”

Leah smiled weakly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I know. I just… I miss being able to be there for them.”

“You are there for them,” you insisted. “In every way that matters. And once our little girl is here, you’ll be back to chasing them around in no time.”

“I hope so,” she murmured, her gaze dropping to her belly, where your baby girl was currently giving a rather forceful kick. “She’s already so active. No wonder I’m exhausted.”

You chuckled, placing your hand over hers, feeling the strong movements beneath her skin. “She’s definitely eager to meet her big brother and sister.”

Leah’s expression softened, her hand covering yours. “Yeah… I just hope it’s soon. I don’t know how much longer I can take this.”

“Mumma! Mum!” Finley’s voice called from the other side of the house, and moments later, he appeared, his face flushed from playing, his hair tousled.

“Hey, buddy,” you greeted, reaching out to ruffle his hair as he climbed onto the couch beside Leah. “What’s up?”

“I made something for the baby!” Finley announced proudly, holding up a carefully folded piece of paper. “It’s a card!”

Leah’s eyes lit up with genuine joy as she reached for the card. “Can I see, bubs?”

Finley nodded eagerly. “It says, ‘Welcome, Baby Sister! We love you!’ And I drew all of us together, like Ellie’s picture but more detailed

Leah unfolded the card, her eyes scanning the childish scrawl and the drawing of your family, complete with a little figure in Leah’s arms labelled “Baby.” Her breath hitched, and she blinked back tears.

“It’s perfect, Finn,” she whispered, pulling him close and pressing a kiss to his temple. “She’s going to love it.”

“Do you think she’ll come soon, Mumma?” Finley asked, “I want to meet her.” He muttered.

Leah’s voice was thick with emotion as she nodded. “I hope so, bubs. I hope so.”

The night passed in a haze of discomfort and frustration for Leah, her restlessness keeping you both up after putting the kids to bed. It was past midnight when you finally managed to coax her into bed, your fingers running soothing circles over her back as she drifted into a fitful sleep.

A few days later, you woke to find Leah sitting up in bed, the lamp beside her flicked on as her eyes filled with worry. She was holding her belly, her brows furrowed in concentration as she poked at it.

“Leah?” you murmured, rubbing sleep from your eyes as you sat up. “What’s wrong?”

You glanced over at the clock, it read 4:45 am which was too early to even be awake.

She glanced at you, her face pale. “I haven’t felt her move in a bit,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. “Not since last night.”

Panic flared in your chest, but you forced yourself to stay calm for her sake. “Okay, it’s okay, let’s not panic. Maybe she’s just having a quiet day. Have you tried drinking something cold? Or lying on your side?”

Leah nodded, her hands still cradling her belly protectively. “I did, but… nothing.”

Your heart thudded loudly in your ears as you reached for your phone, quickly dialling Amanda’s number. “It’s going to be okay, Leah. I’ll call your mum, and we’ll go to the hospital just to be safe, alright?”

Leah nodded, tears welling in her eyes as you pressed the phone to your ear, listening to the ring. Amanda picked up almost immediately, her voice concerned. “Hello?”

“Hi Amanda, it’s me. We need to go to the hospital. Leah hasn’t felt the baby move for a while, and we’re worried. Can you come over and look after the kids?”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” Amanda said without hesitation. “Just keep Leah calm, alright? I’m on my way.”

You hung up and turned to Leah, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. “Your mum’s coming over. We’ll get to the hospital soon, okay?”

Leah nodded, but the fear in her eyes was unmistakable. “What if something’s wrong?”

You kissed her forehead, trying to keep your anxiety at bay. “We’ll get checked out, and whatever happens, we’ll face it together.”

Amanda arrived quickly, her face drawn with worry as she stepped into your bedroom. She hugged Leah gently, her hand resting on her daughter’s back. “It’s going to be alright, bubba. Go on, I’ve got the kids.”

“I’m so scared, Mum,” Leah whispered as a tear slipped down her face. “What if somethings is wrong with her?”

“No, don’t think like that, Le.” Amanda told her firmly, “She’s okay, she’s a strong girl just like her mummies. She’s probably just sleepy.”

“Thank you, Mum,” Leah whispered, hugging Amanda once more before standing up.

The drive to the hospital was tense, both of you silent as you gripped the steering wheel, your knuckles white from the pressure. When you finally arrived, Leah was quickly whisked away for monitoring. You stayed by her side, your heart pounding as they hooked her up to the machines, the rhythmic beeping of the monitor filling the room.

The midwife frowned slightly as she studied the screen, then looked at both of you. “Her heart rate is a bit lower than we’d like. We’re going to get the doctor in, just to be safe.”

Leah’s grip on your hand tightened, and you leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. “You’re doing amazing, love. Just breathe.”

The next few minutes passed in a blur as the doctor came in, checking the readings before glancing at you both, her expression serious. “We’re going to have to do an emergency C-section. The baby’s heart rate is dropping, and we need to get her out quickly. She seems to be in distress for some reason.”

Leah’s eyes widened, panic flashing across her face. “What? Is she… is she going to be okay?”

The doctor nodded, her voice calm but firm. “We’re going to do everything we can. But we need to get her out as soon as possible.”

You felt like the ground was slipping away beneath you as they prepared Leah for surgery. You were quickly dressed in scrubs, your hands trembling as you tried to stay strong for her.

“Hey,” you whispered, leaning close as they wheeled her into the operating room. “I’m right here, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

Leah nodded, tears streaming down her face as she reached for your hand. “I’m scared,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

You pressed your forehead to hers, your own eyes burning with tears. “I know, love. But she’s going to be okay. You’re both going to be okay.”

The surgery was a whirlwind of movement and noise, the sterile smell of the operating room filling your senses. You stroked Leah’s cheek, your heart in your throat as they made the first incision. It felt like hours, but it was only minutes before you heard the doctor’s voice.

“Alright, almost there… and… she’s out!”

There was a brief, heart-stopping silence before the sound of your baby’s first cry filled the room. It was weak but unmistakable, and you felt a sob of relief tear from your chest.

“She’s crying, Leah,” you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. “She’s okay.”

Leah’s eyes were closed, tears slipping down her cheeks as she nodded weakly. “Can I… can I see her?”

The nurse brought your baby girl over, her tiny face red and scrunched up as she let out another thin wail. You glanced at Leah, your heart swelling with love and relief as you saw the way she looked at your daughter, her eyes filled with wonder and exhaustion.

“Hi Amelia, hi baby girl,” Leah whispered, her voice trembling as she reached out a shaky hand to touch the baby’s cheek. “Oh, she’s perfect. She looks so much like Ells.”

You kissed Leah’s forehead, your tears falling freely now. “You did it, love.”

Leah let out a shaky laugh, her eyes never leaving the baby’s face. “We did it.”

The nurse took Amelia to get her cleaned up before bringing her back. She carefully placed Amelia on Leah’s chest, and you watched, your heart swelling with love as Leah held your daughter for the first time. She was tiny and fragile, her little fingers sprawled out on Leah’s chest.

Leah looked up at you, her eyes shining with tears and love and so much relief. “She’s here,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “She’s really here.”

You leaned down, pressing a kiss to both of their foreheads, your heart feeling like it might burst. “She’s here,” you agreed, your voice thick with emotion. “And she’s perfect.”

After Leah was stitched back up, the nurses took you both to the recovery room where you settled into a rhythm with Amelia. Despite her being your third baby, you both still felt like clueless new parents.

A few hours later, Leah cradled Amelia gently against her chest, her fingers trembling as they traced the delicate curve of your daughter’s cheek. The tears she’d been holding back finally spilt over, her shoulders shaking with the force of her sobs.

You pulled her into your side as you lay on the bed with her. “It’s okay, love,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “You’re okay. She’s okay.”

Leah nodded, though her breaths were shaky, her eyes locked on the tiny face peeking out from the blanket that covered them both. “I was so scared,” she confessed, her voice barely audible. “I thought… I thought something was wrong and we were going to lose her.”

“I know,” you murmured, your heart aching at the raw vulnerability in her voice. “I was scared too. But she’s here, and she’s healthy, and you both did so well.”

Leah’s gaze flicked up to meet yours, “I felt so helpless,” she admitted, her thumb brushing over Amelia’s soft skin. “All I wanted was to keep her safe, and I couldn’t even do that on my own.”

“You didn’t have to do it on your own,” you reminded her gently, your thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of her hand. “It’s okay to need help, Leah. You’re carrying so much already, and you’ve been so strong.”

Leah sniffled, her free hand wiping at her eyes as she let out a shaky laugh. “I hate feeling like I’m not enough,” she whispered, her voice cracking with the weight of her words. “Like I’m not strong enough to protect our kids.”

“You are enough,” you said firmly, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her temple. “You’re more than enough, Leah. You’ve been carrying so much on your own, and it’s okay to lean on me. It’s okay to lean on your mum, on anyone. We’re all here for you.”

Leah closed her eyes, her body sagging against you as she let out a breath she’d been holding for what felt like months. “I’m just so tired,” she admitted, her voice small and broken. “I’m so tired of trying to be strong all the time.”

“I know,” you whispered, your heart breaking for her as you held her close, your fingers threading through her hair. “You don’t have to be strong all the time, love. You can let go.”

Leah nodded, her breath hitching as she buried her face against your shoulder, her tears soaking through the fabric of your scrubs. You held her as tightly as you could without disturbing Amelia, your own tears mingling with hers as you both let the fear and relief wash over you.

After a few minutes, Leah pulled back, her eyes red and swollen but shining with love as she looked down at Amelia, who had fallen asleep against her chest. “

“She’s so tiny,” Leah murmured, her fingers brushing gently over the tiny bit of hair on your daughter’s head. “She’s perfect.”

“She is,” you agreed, your heart swelling with pride and love as you looked at the two of them together. “And you’re amazing.”

Leah gave you a watery smile, her eyes still brimming with unshed tears. “I couldn’t have done it without you, pretty girl.”

“You don’t have to do any of it alone,” you reminded her softly, your hand finding hers again and squeezing gently. “We’re in this together, every step of the way.”

Leah nodded, her grip on your hand tightening as she looked down at Amelia again, her expression soft and awed. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice breaking with the force of her gratitude. “For everything.”

“Always,” you promised, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Leah whispered, her eyes fluttering closed as she rested her forehead against your shoulder. “So much.”

You stayed like that for a long time, the three of you cocooned in a moment of quiet, shared love. The fear and anxiety of the past few hours slowly ebbed away, replaced by the soft, undeniable warmth of your family. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t easy. But it was real, and it was yours, and you knew that, no matter what came next, you would face it together.

The next morning, the hospital room was quiet except for the soft sound of Leah’s breathing as she rested in the bed, exhausted but peaceful. You sat beside her, holding your baby girl in your arms, staring at her tiny features. She was perfect.

She was here, finally here after wanting her for so long, and you were overwhelmed with love and relief.

Leah stirred beside you, her eyes fluttering open. You smiled down at her, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “Hey, love. How are you feeling?”

Leah blinked a few times, then her gaze shifted to the baby in your arms. A soft smile spread across her face, her eyes filling with tears. “Tired… but she’s worth it.”

You leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. “She is. You did amazing, Leah.”

Leah’s hand reached out, her fingers brushing over Amelia’s cheek. “I still can’t believe she’s here.”

You nodded, “Me neither.”

The door to the room opened slowly, and Amanda peeked in, a bright smile spreading across her face as she saw you both awake. “Hello, bubbas. I’ve brought some visitors.”

Leah’s face lit up, and you felt your heart swell as Amanda stepped inside, followed closely by Finley and Ellie. Finley’s eyes were wide with excitement, and Ellie was clinging to Amanda’s hand, her gaze flicking between you and Leah confusedly.

“Hey, you two,” you said softly, shifting Amelia carefully so the kids could get a better look. “Come and meet your baby sister!”

Finley was the first to approach, his face full of wonder as he peered at the tiny bundle in your arms. “She’s so little,” he whispered, his eyes wide.

You chuckled, nodding. “She is, isn't she? That's your baby sister, Amelia.”

Ellie followed, her thumb in her mouth as she peeked over the edge of the bed. “So tiny,” she whispered around her thumb, her eyes wide.

Leah reached out her hand to them, her smile soft and tired. “Come here, guys. Meet your little sister.”

Finley climbed up onto the bed carefully, his eyes never leaving Amelia’s face. “Can I hold her, Mumma?”

Leah nodded, her eyes bright with tears as she glanced at you. “Mum will help you, okay?”

You gently placed Amelia in Finley’s arms, supporting her tiny head as you guided his hands. He looked down at her, his face full of awe and a little bit of fear.

“Hi, Amelia,” he whispered. “I’m your big brother, Finley. I’m going to take care of you, okay?”

Your heart felt like it might burst as you watched Finley hold her so carefully, his love for his new sister already clear. You glanced at Leah, who was watching them with tears streaming down her face.

Ellie climbed up onto the bed beside Leah, her little hand clutching her mother’s. “Mumma, she’s so cute!” she exclaimed, her voice full of excitement. “What name?”

“Her name is Amelia,” Leah said softly, her hand stroking Ellie’s hair.

Ellie scrunched up her face, thinking hard. “Amewia…” she tried, her brow furrowing in concentration. Then, a smile broke out on her face. “Mimi! Call her Mimi?”

You and Leah exchanged a glance, both of you smiling at Ellie’s enthusiasm. “Mimi?” Leah repeated, her voice full of affection. “I think that’s a beautiful nickname, Ells.”

Ellie beamed, clearly pleased with herself. “Mimi! Mimi our baby!”

Leah leaned over, pressing a kiss to the top of Finley’s head then Ellie’s. “You’re both going to be amazing big siblings,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Mimi is so lucky to have you.”

Amanda stepped closer, smiling as she watched her grandchildren meet their new sister. “She’s absolutely perfect,” she said softly, her gaze flicking to you and Leah. “You two did good.”

You smiled at her, your heart full as you watched your family together. “Thanks, Amanda. We couldn’t have done it without you.”

She waved off your words with a smile. “Nonsense. You two are incredible parents. And now you’ve got another little one to love.”

Leah reached out, her fingers tangling with yours as she looked at the kids, at Amanda, at your tiny daughter. “We’re so lucky,” she whispered, her voice full of love and gratitude. “We’re so, so lucky.”

You nodded, your heart overflowing as you watched Finley and Ellie gently stroke Amelia’s tiny hands, their eyes full of wonder and love. “Yeah, we are.”

You leaned over, pressing a kiss to Leah’s temple, your eyes misty as you looked at your family. “Welcome to the world, Mimi,” you whispered, your heart full to bursting with love as you stoked her nose gently.

#lvnleah #leah williamson #the williamson’s #finley williamson #ellie williamson

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drewharrisonwriter · 5 months ago

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On the Mend - Ch 6: She's Here!

No Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader

Read this on AO3 | On the Mend Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Summary: Your daughter is here and you don't have a name for her yet.

Word count: 1,359

A/N: This is it! This wraps it up! Thank you for reading this story, I appreciate you all. 💜

Tagging these wonderful people: @tuquoquebrute @vickie5446 @softiedingo @theoraekenslover for this final update. You people are amazing! 😭

The car swerved slightly as Joel turned onto the main road, his knuckles white against the steering wheel. He glanced over at her, sweat beading on her forehead, her hands clutching her swollen belly with each sharp breath she took. Every contraction seemed to tighten its grip on her, making her wince, and he hated the helplessness he felt watching her in pain.

“Hang on, darlin’. We’re almost there,” Joel said, his voice strained but calm. He reached over to squeeze her hand briefly before pulling out his phone to dial Tommy’s number.

She was panting through the pain, squeezing his hand back as best she could, grateful for his presence even if everything else felt like it was falling apart. She watched him with blurry eyes as he spoke quickly into the phone.

“Tommy, it’s happening—yeah, we’re on the way to the hospital now,” Joel said, his voice laced with urgency. “Just... keep an eye on Sarah, alright? I’ll call when I can, maybe you can bring her up when things settle down.”

He paused, listening to Tommy’s response, and his grip tightened on the steering wheel. “Yeah, yeah, I got it. Thanks, Tommy. I’ll keep you posted.”

As he hung up, she turned to him, her face flushed and tired. “Thank you, Joel. I know this is... a lot.”

Joel shook his head, glancing over at her with a soft, concerned expression. “You don’t need to thank me, sweetheart. I’m here because I want to be, not because I have to.”

She nodded, though she didn’t quite believe it—not entirely. Another contraction hit, and she groaned, her head falling back against the seat as she tried to breathe through it.

“What if... what if something happens to me?” she blurted out between breaths, her voice trembling with fear. “I’ve been thinking about it, and... if something happens, and I don’t make it, what’s going to happen to our baby? I don’t want her to grow up alone, like I did.”

Joel’s heart sank, and he reached over to squeeze her hand tighter, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on her knuckles. “Hey, none of that talk, okay? You’re gonna be fine. But even if—no, when you’re fine—she’s not gonna be alone, alright? She’s got you, she’s got me, and she’s got Sarah. You’ve got family now.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, the tears spilling out despite her best efforts to hold them back. “But I... I never wanted to burden you with this, Joel. You made it clear you didn’t want a future with me, and I get that. But I’m scared, and I didn’t know how to...”

“Stop,” Joel interrupted gently, his voice firm but kind. “I said a lot of things I shouldn’t have, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be here now. You and this baby—our baby—you’re not a burden. I’ve got you, darlin’.”

She nodded, but the fear didn’t fully dissipate. Still, there was comfort in his words, in the warmth of his hand holding hers. Another contraction hit, and she bit her lip, focusing on the rhythm of her breathing as they neared the hospital.

–

By the time they pulled into the emergency entrance, she was groaning with each step, her legs wide as she waddled through the doors. She could feel the baby’s head engaging, an overwhelming pressure that made her eyes water.

Joel was right beside her, guiding her with a firm but gentle grip on her arm. “Hang on, darlin’. You’re almost there.”

She could barely hear him through the pain, her mind focused solely on the urgency of getting the baby out. The nurses quickly ushered them into a room, and the doctor was there within minutes.

“Let’s get you checked, sweetheart,” the doctor said, helping her onto the bed. She barely had time to register the cold of the stirrups before the doctor’s voice broke through. “You’re fully dilated. This baby’s ready to come now.”

Her breath hitched, and she glanced at Joel, who was already at her side, holding her hand as another contraction ripped through her. “Wai–wha–No meds?” she managed to gasp.

The doctor shook her head. “No time, I’m afraid. But you’ve got this, okay? Just listen to your body.”

Joel leaned in, his forehead pressed gently against hers. “You can do this, sweetheart. I’m right here.”

She nodded, though every instinct screamed at her to panic. The pain was sharp, intense, and she clenched her teeth as she bore down, pushing with all the strength she had left.

“Oh, God, Joel!” she cried out, feeling the stretch, the burn as the baby’s head began to crown. “I swear, this kid has your big ol’ Miller head...”

Joel’s chuckle was half-pained, half-amused. “You can blame my momma for that one, darlin’. She always said we had the biggest and hardest heads in Texas.”

She let out a strangled laugh that quickly turned into another scream. “Yeah, well, this one’s ripping me apart! Goddammit, Joel, you’re never touching me again!”

Joel squeezed her hand, wincing as she nearly crushed his fingers, but he couldn’t help the smile that broke through his worry. “Let’s put a pin on that, darlin’.”

The doctor’s voice cut through the chaos. “One more big push, mama. You’re almost there.”

With a final, guttural scream, she pushed with everything she had left. The room seemed to blur, time slowing as she felt the baby slide free, the sudden release of pressure followed by the sweetest sound she’d ever heard—the wailing cry of their newborn daughter.

The doctor quickly placed the baby on her chest, and she sobbed, overwhelmed by the tiny, squirming miracle in her arms. Joel leaned over, his eyes wet with tears as he looked down at their daughter, his expression a mix of awe and pride.

“She’s here,” Joel whispered, his voice choked with emotion. “You did it, darlin’. She’s perfect.”

She looked up at him, her own tears blurring her vision as she gazed at their daughter.

—

The next few hours were a blur of emotions—tears, laughter, and the quiet joy of holding their newborn daughter for the first time. Joel never left her side, even as they cleaned both her and the baby up.

Later, as the room quieted and the adrenaline began to wear off, they found themselves just staring at their baby girl, trying to come up with a name. They tossed around ideas, but nothing felt quite right.

“How about Harper?” Joel suggested, running a gentle finger along the baby’s tiny hand.

She scrunched her nose, shaking her head. “I don’t know... It’s cute, but it doesn’t feel like her.”

Joel nodded thoughtfully, staring down at their daughter. “Yeah, you’re right. She’s... I don’t know. She’s something else.”

Before they could debate further, the door opened, and Tommy stepped in with Sarah, who bounced excitedly on her heels. “Hey, y’all. Someone’s been waiting to meet her little sister.”

Sarah rushed over to the bed, her eyes wide with wonder as she looked at the baby. “Is this her? Is Ellie here?”

Both new parents froze, exchanging glances. Sarah’s question hung in the air, sweet and innocent, but it seemed to have struck them deeply.

“Ellie?” Joel repeated, his voice soft.

Sarah nodded eagerly. “Yeah! That’s what I want to call her.”

All three adults laughed. She looked at Joel, who was already smiling down at their baby. “Ellie,” she murmured, testing the name on her tongue. “I like it.”

Joel nodded, brushing a tear from his cheek. “Me too. Ellie Miller... It’s perfect.”

Sarah beamed, leaning in to kiss her baby sister’s head. “Hi, Ellie. I’m your big sister.”

They watched the tender moment, their hearts full as they took in the sight of their girls together.

Joel leaned closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as they both watched Sarah and Ellie bond. He pressed a soft kiss to her temple, his voice a low whisper just for her. “I don’t know what the future looks like, but... I know I want it to look like this.”

She nodded, resting her head against his shoulder, “Yeah,” she agreed softly. “Me too.”

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pandorasword · 3 months ago

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Just saw your post about the members reaction to Chaeri and JK, and I wanna know what they thought about Hongjoong and Chaeri? Hell, I even wanna know what ATEEZ thought about their relationship too!

-♡♡

Hi!! 🫶🏼

I’m so embarrassed by how much time has passed since I got your message—I'm so sorry for the wait! It’s been such a busy and stressful time for me 🥹

Thank you for your question!

Chaeri as the 8th and youngest member of BTS.

BTS

The members quickly learned to consider themselves as a family. Living together and sharing everything since their teenage years, their bond has always been similar to that of siblings. This, for better or worse, includes constantly meddling in each other’s lives, both for fun and to take care of one another. This extends to almost every aspect of their lives, including romantic relationships.

It was impossible – and, in reality, Chaeri didn’t even try – to hide the growing bond between her and Hongjoong from the other members of the group. On the night of the party where they met, Taehyung and Jungkook noticed them, which inevitably led also to the last member of the 'maknae line' finding out about the news. They were the first three to know:

Taehyung was very surprised. Being Chaeri’s best friend and never having heard her talk about Hongjoong before, their union initially seemed a bit strange and rushed to him. Only later, when she confessed to him that at the party, she had approached Hongjoong with the intention of annoying him and Jungkook - who had followed her without her consent - and only later did that situation turn into something more significant, including the desire to normalize relationships among K-pop idols, Taehyung realized that such behavior was typical of Chaeri.

From the moment the relationship between Chaeri and Hongjoong became something more serious than just an excuse to create a scandal in the industry, V showed his support. However, he frequently asked her questions designed to make her reflect on her relationship, asking if it was really what she wanted or if she had just been swept up in a situation that made her feel good but that she didn’t truly desire.

The way Chaeri proudly showed off her relationship to everyone, without fear of judgment, inspired him and made him proud. It even led him to decide to be braver himself, giving the public clear hints about his own relationship, though in a less obvious way.

The first time he met Hongjoong as Chaeri's official boyfriend, one might have expected him to say the classic line, "If you hurt her, you'll have to deal with me." Instead, he said, "If she scares you to death, don't come looking for me. She scares me to death too. But I guess that's her way of showing love”.

Jimin was taken aback. He knew that the situation between Chaeri and Jungkook had reached an even more critical point than before, but he did not expect that the two would actually try to date other people. Their constant fighting, more or less hidden from the eyes of others, was causing stress and sadness for the group, which felt helpless in the face of that dramatic situation. Therefore, he tried to understand and support Chaeri's decision to date Hongjoong as much as possible.

Jimin had always been very reserved about his relationships with the media, aware of how much the K-pop scene could destroy even the most beautiful and genuine connections. Seeing Chaeri, on the other hand, not hide and proudly show the world her sentimental commitment filled him with pride. He knew that she was fighting to normalize the situation for all idols, giving them back their freedom to be human in the eyes of the public.

And while he was initially unsure about Hongjoong, Jimin warmed to him at some point. He liked how Hongjoong carried himself, and with being the leader of his group, he could guess what kind of person he was: responsible, serious, dedicated. Three qualities he believed were essential to be able to romantically connect with someone like his female teammate.

However, what impressed Jimin most was Hongjoong's approach to Chaeri's strong and overwhelming personality and the way he respected her boldness rather than trying to suppress it as many other men would have done.

Although he had never said it out loud, he was grateful to Hongjoong for standing by Chaeri's side at a time when few others could have done so, which was when she ended up on forced hiatus from the BTS.

As the oldest member of BTS, Jin had always seen himself as the “big brother” of the group, ready to offer advice or tease anyone who found themselves in a new relationship. To him, Chaeri was like a little sister, and he wanted to make sure that anyone she dated was worthy of her, which is why he began to “investigate” Hongjoong. He asked around and read articles about him and his group, eager to determine whether he was truly interested in her and not just looking for personal gain.

However, no article or information was more helpful than observing them together and hearing Chaeri talk about him. In the end, this led him to deliver his “verdict”: he approved of the relationship.

True to his style, Jin expressed his approval with a touch of humor. “So, he’s not scared off yet?” he joked with Chaeri, smiling. “Good for him! I barely lasted an hour when we met because of your bratty attitude.”

But beyond his playful nature, he also found moments to talk to her seriously. “I can see he cares about you. So just make sure he keeps caring about you as much as you care about him”

For Jin, Chaeri’s happiness was the most important thing. He was proud to see her openly embracing her happiness, knowing how much she had suffered in the past from having to keep her previous relationship hidden.

Yoongi, when he knew about her relationship with Hongjoong, didn’t comment immediately and took a step back, preferring to observe and let Chaeri share as much—or as little—as she wanted. To him, relationships were personal, and he respected her decision to make her relationship public, understanding how it could be both liberating and daunting in their world. He had always been the type to keep his thoughts on love and relationships close to the chest, so seeing her put herself out there made him feel both proud and slightly worried for her.

One evening, some time after the news broke, noticing how serious their relationship was becoming, he decided to give Chaeri a single piece of advice: “Just make sure you’re doing this for yourself. Don’t get caught up in proving something to anyone. If it makes you happy, that’s what matters.”

Yoongi just wanted to make sure she hadn’t made the decision because she was angry or disappointed about her past with Jungkook, aware of how such emotions could lead to choices she might regret. He wanted her to approach this relationship with a clear mind and an open heart, unclouded by past wounds.

He knew Chaeri well enough to trust her judgment, and he trusted that Hongjoong would take care of her the way she deserved. But still, he kept a watchful eye, not to interfere but to be there, if she ever needed him.

While he didn’t express it often, he deeply hoped that this relationship would give her the peace and happiness she deserved.

Ever since they’d started working together, Hoseok’d come to see her as his little sister—a role he took seriously, complete with protective instincts and a healthy dose of skepticism about any guy who showed interest in her. He’d seen her grow, struggle and evolve, so the idea of someone else now playing such a significant role in her life brought out his big-brother side in full force. In the beginning, Hoseok wasn’t entirely sure about Hongjoong. He hadn’t heard much about him before and wasn’t quick to trust anyone who’d suddenly become so close to Chaeri.

Honestly, he didn’t like the situation at all. Chaeri was vulnerable because of what had happened with Jungkook—a relationship that had ended disastrously not long before—and all the signs, at least on the surface, seemed to point in one direction: Hongjoong was taking advantage of her to gain more fame and visibility for himself and his group. Or, at least, that was what his brain had convinced itself of the moment the “overprotective brother” alarm bells in his head went off as soon as he heard the news.

He would only come to realize, gradually, just how wrong he’d been as all the “evidence” he thought he’d gathered to support his theory started to crumble, one piece at a time. It had been Chaeri who approached Hongjoong first, and she was the one who decided to make the relationship public; moreover, Hongjoong genuinely seemed to care about her.

It took meeting Hongjoong in person to get some answers, though that first meeting felt more like an interrogation. Hongjoong would probably describe it as intense, maybe even intimidating. Despite the polite smile, Hoseok’s questions cut straight to the point: what were his intentions with Chaeri? Did he understand the level of scrutiny that came with dating her? And, in no uncertain terms, was he ready to treat her with the respect she deserved?

Namjoon, as the leader of BTS, felt a natural sense of responsibility for all the group members, but with Chaeri, it was different. Over the years, he had become particularly protective of her, looking out for her in a way that came entirely naturally—like an older brother with a younger sister. Although he wasn’t as openly intense as Hoseok, he, too, felt some skepticism and concern. He wasn’t used to Chaeri dating anyone (outside of Jungkook), and he had the sweet but misguided notion that no one was quite good enough for her.

“You know how much pressure comes with going public. Once things are out there, there’s no taking them back. I just want you to be sure this is what you really want—not just for yourself, but for the two of you together.” Living a life like theirs meant that any information shared with the public would be engraved forever, and he felt it was his duty to remind her that, once that choice was made, there would be no turning back.

He would never dare to question Chaeri's emotional intelligence by suggesting that she was choosing the wrong person to start a romantic relationship with; it was simply his instinct to protect her that compelled him to keep a watchful eye on the two whenever they were together. Deep down, he recognized her ability to make her own decisions, but the protective instincts of an older brother lingered, making it difficult for him to let go completely.

He felt better, however, knowing that Chaeri would have someone by her side while they would all be away due to the mandatory military service that, by now, was getting closer and closer.

Jungkook's reaction to Chaeri's relationship with Hongjoong was complicated, to say the least.

He knew she was a mischievous type, and when he first saw them together at that party, he became convinced—albeit annoyed—that she had set up that little act just to get back at him and Taehyung for following her to the party, despite her not wanting them there. But discovering that their connection had instead grown so serious that she had decided to make it public threw him completely off balance.

Jungkook couldn’t help but think back on all the wrong choices he had made during his relationship with Chaeri, choices that, forced or not, had led him to that moment: having to watch the love of his life fall for someone else.

The truth is that he’s never fully accepted it—and he never will. He won’t ever choose to be in the same room as Hongjoong unless circumstances force him to be there, and he certainly won’t ever choose to have even the smallest interaction with him. To Jungkook, Hongjoong would always be a reminder of everything he had lost, a constant presence of the love he let slip away. Even if he knew, deep down, that he couldn’t turn back time, a part of him stubbornly refused to accept the reality of Chaeri’s new relationship. It wasn’t that he wished her unhappiness, but he couldn’t bring himself to accept Hongjoong as a part of her life—or, by extension, his own.

Jungkook’s feeling of bitterness only grew stronger as the weeks went by. He saw Chaeri almost daily, whether at rehearsals or during group events, and every time he saw her smile because of him, it was like a quiet punch to the gut.

It didn’t help that the others had slowly begun to accept Hongjoong. While Hoseok still kept an eye on him and Namjoon was ever-cautious, they’d grown used to the idea. And to Jungkook, it felt like they were all moving forward without him. He’d find himself spacing out during conversations, lost in memories of the past, back when he and Chaeri were inseparable. It was all so bittersweet—he wanted to support her, he truly did, but he was haunted by the constant, nagging feeling that he was supposed to be the one by her side, not some stranger.

Whenever he saw Hongjoong, though, he managed a polite nod, maintaining a veneer of professionalism. But his politeness was brittle. Every interaction with him felt like stepping on thin ice, a forced act that concealed the simmering resentment he couldn’t quite shake. It was painful, and he felt as if he were trapped in a story where he’d once been a main character, only to be slowly written out.

Everyone claimed that true love meant letting someone find happiness with another person. He was convinced he genuinely loved her. So why was it so hard for him to accept it?

ATEEZ

Before Hongjoong decided to talk to their managers about dating Chaeri, he knew he had to discuss it with his members first. This made him particularly nervous, but he knew he couldn't delay it any longer, mainly since Chaeri had expressed her desire to make their relationship public. For example, when he went to New York to see her, Chaeri and Hongjoong posted photos from an identical location, causing the internet to be filled with theories and suspicions about whether they were dating, trolling the fans, or soft-launching a relationship.

He wasn't nervous because the boys didn't know, quite the contrary. Since the night of the '98 liners idol party, a gathering of idols born in 1998, when he and Seonghwa had returned from, and the latter had not waited more than a second to tell the others about him and Chaeri, the younger ones had not stopped teasing him, also knowing the little crush he had on her ever since she found some time to go up to them in 2019 at MAMAs and tell them how much she had enjoyed the cover of the song they had brought to the stage.

Fortunately, his fears were unfounded. The boys didn't react negatively to the dating news when he shared it, and their managers reassured them that they could handle any potential scandal. 'Having Chaeri linked to one of you would surely increase attention and, consequently, your turnover' they emphasized. Fortunately, KQ loved the media exposure this would bring.

And, what to say? The boys couldn't be anything but happy about that, could they? Their leader seemed pleased with that relationship, and their reputation would greatly benefit from Chaeri’s impact. However, Ateez would soon learn that Chaeri in their lives would become more than simply 'Hongjoong's girl who benefits his mood and our career.'

Each member reacted differently based on their personalities and relationships with Hongjoong and Chaeri.

Seonghwa and Hongjoong had always shared everything since they were just trainees. Being the same age and both feeling some sort of responsibility to the members had bound them together more than with the others. Because of this, Seonghwa couldn't have been unaware of the 'little' crush his best friend had toward the only female member of BTS. A crush that grew exponentially over the years, peaking in 2019.

Seonghwa teased him about it since pre-debut and never stopped, even when the two became a couple, leaving him hugely surprised. It’s a tale as old as time to have a crush on a public figure, and usually, people never end up dating them unless they get a once-in-a-lifetime chance, and for Hongjoong to get that chance? Seonghwa could think of nothing else but the fact that life always shows you something you would never expect.

Despite initial disbelief, he was proud of his member for being the first to have a public relationship, as he showed a nerve many idols did not have.

The guy also likes to tease Chaeri about how soft she can get with Hongjoong since she always tries to pass herself off as someone who is not particularly sweet or romantic. That makes her and Joong very similar, in his opinion.

Yunho was thrilled. His reaction was, perhaps, the purest and most genuinely enthusiastic of all.

From the moment Hongjoong had confirmed his connection with Chaeri, he couldn’t hide his smile and a bit of surprise at the thought that their leader, his hyung, had won the heart of Chaeri and felt a bit bewildered at the thought that she was now a constant presence in their lives.

His excitement about the news, however, wasn’t simply about Chaeri’s fame. His happiness came from a much more genuine place. He knew how much Hongjoong’s intense work schedule demanded of him, and knowing he’d found someone who could make him smile and offer a bit of comfort was something that gave Yunho happiness.

As the main dancer of ATEEZ, Yunho felt an irresistible and inexplicable urge to talk for hours with Chaeri, who held the same role in BTS, about the dance icons they admired, favorite styles, the best methods for learning choreography, and so on.

When it came to dance, Yunho found a new source of motivation and inspiration in Chaeri. Having the opportunity to work with her as ATEEZ’s choreographer, even if only for a limited time, made him genuinely happy; he greatly appreciated how Chaeri took each of his suggestions into account, making him feel fully included in the creative process of their performances.

While most of the others reacted loudly, swept away by enthusiasm or curiosity, Yeosang received the news of their relationship calmly and silently, as he had not yet formed an opinion about the situation; speaking without having thought it through first was not his style. Not that he was indifferent; on the contrary, the idea that Hongjoong had started a relationship with someone so significant in the music scene, fascinated him more than he let on. Yet, as was typical of him, he preferred to think deeply before saying anything.

In fact, Yeosang felt happy for Hongjoong. He knew well how much their leader had sacrificed for the sake of ATEEZ and how he had always acted as an emotional shield for the others. The thought that someone could finally take care of him, just as he did for his members, gave him a sense of peace. If Chaeri could provide that kind of balance for Hongjoong, that was already enough for Yeosang.

However, despite his reserved demeanor, Yeosang couldn't shake the thought that this relationship might somehow influence the dynamics of the group. It wasn’t jealousy or envy, but rather a healthy concern for their equilibrium. At a time when ATEEZ was growing and reaching new milestones, he feared that the notoriety of such a public relationship could distract Hongjoong or even create tensions with Chaeri's international fame.

For this reason, he spoke privately with Hongjoong to tell him that he would support whatever made him happy, but that he needed to make sure that he found the right equilibrium, for himself, for ATEEZ, and for BTS.

The ice between him and Chaeri finally broke when, noticing his somewhat distant and thoughtful demeanor, she decided to "test him" with jokes and playful remarks, trying to make him laugh and lift his spirits whenever she was around.

When San was told the news, he decided to become one of the most welcoming people Chaeri would ever meet. If Hongjoong put so much trust in her that he made their relationship public and made her an official part of their routine, it meant that he could trust her, too, and that she was certainly a special person, an idea that was later solidified as he began to get to know her more.

For him, it was new to see his captain, always so focused and dedicated to work, let loose whenever Chaeri was around. He was the first to realize that Joong didn’t just have a simple crush or attraction toward her—he was completely smitten. This realization filled San with joy, both because he could see how happy his hyung was and because teasing him about it was going to be even more fun. And oh, he never missed an opportunity to do so, knowing he’d succeeded with his jokes whenever Hongjoong threatened to beat him up.

San was among those who didn’t worry at all about the potential repercussions this might have on their group. He had complete faith in Hongjoong and their agency, and if they believed the situation could only benefit them, then he firmly believed it too.

From the start, San took it upon himself to make their dorm a bit more “girl-friendly” in subtle ways, often reminding the other guys not to leave laundry outside their rooms and occasionally bringing an air freshener or candles with softer fragrances.

Chaeri, along with Hongjoong, had started taking care of all of them through small gestures: giving them decorative items for the dorm, bringing food almost every time they met, and listening to them in moments of difficulty. For San, it was only right to make her feel like a true member of their family.

Mingi was less worried about the implications of dating someone as high-profile as Chaeri and more curious about what she was like behind the scenes. He'd seen her charisma on stage, of course, but knowing she had somehow captured the heart of their hyper-focused captain made her all the more interesting.

When she started hanging out with them more, Mingi was pleasantly surprised by how easy it was to talk to her. He found himself chatting about everything. She laughed at his quirky jokes, and her genuine reactions made him feel instantly comfortable. Chaeri was even surprisingly willing to listen to his ramblings, which most people couldn’t keep up with for long.

What Mingi appreciated most was that she seemed to care about all of them, not just Hongjoong. It didn’t take long for him to open up to her the way he would to a friend, even showing her some of his scribbled lyrics and ideas—something he rarely did with people outside the group. She encouraged him to pursue his creative ideas with enthusiasm, which meant a lot to him, especially coming from someone with so much experience.

Mingi noticed little things about her and Hongjoong’s dynamic that the others might miss. Like the way Chaeri would glance at Hongjoong to see if he needed anything or how Hongjoong’s shoulders relaxed just a bit more when she was around. While he didn’t tease his leader as much as San or Wooyoung did in front of Chaeri, he made sure to join in whenever she wasn’t around.

Wooyoung was the most excited. It was almost too good to be true— despite his hectic schedule, his beloved captain had found love. And not just anyone, but Chaeri of BTS. And oh, if he wasn't a BTS fan.

His fanboy heart was thrilled, enough to make him almost obnoxious with his numerous questions towards his Hyung that went from 'Do you think she will introduce me to Jimin sunbaenim?' to 'If, technically, BTS are like siblings and we, technically, are like siblings, does that mean that if you and her are together, she is my sister-in-law and us and them will become one family?' It is unsurprising that, to most of these questions, Hongjoong simply answered with a somewhat annoyed 'I don't know.'

The vague and rather bored response to Wooyoung’s questions made the members wrinkle their noses, perhaps too eager to pry into their hyung's relationship and then into the dynamics of such a famous group as BTS. After all, he was dating an idol in one of the most prominent groups ever. He felt their captain needed to give them a few details to satisfy their innocent curiosity.

Wooyoung was the first to break the ice with her and treat her like one of the family rather than an unexpected addition to their already large group. It took only a few days before he started referring to her as 'Noona,' and he is known to blush, in an innocent and non-romantic way, at most of the things she says to him.

Jongho is a private person who, unlike many other group members, highly values his privacy and, therefore, deeply respects others' boundaries. So, he didn't seem particularly interested in the news of his hyung's relationship. After all, it was normal for them to have partners, right? The only difference was that the girl was one of the country's most famous and influential figures. At first, Jongho thought that it might have been better for the group's well-being and harmony if Hongjoong had found love in someone who wasn't always in the spotlight, but in the end, he was indifferent to their relationship as it was their business.

For this reason, at first, he couldn’t understand the cheerful atmosphere with which almost everyone else had welcomed the news. It wasn’t the first time one of them had started dating someone (obviously keeping everything strategically out of the spotlight), and to him, the fact that Hongjoong was with a famous person rather than an ordinary one didn’t make any difference. That’s why he didn’t seem particularly enthusiastic.

However, as time passed and as Chaeri became more and more embedded in their group dynamic, Jongho could not help but get to know her better. He noticed that despite her fame, she approached everyone with humility, a quality that many celebrities in their circles display only when they are in the spotlight. Although he was less experienced than her, who had debuted five years earlier, it happened more than once that Chaeri asked him for advice on how to keep her voice so steady during performances, which amazed him and filled him with pride.

His respect for her began to change drastically for the better when, after a movie night organized by the group, she stayed behind to help tidy up, despite the fact that it was late and she had a busy schedule the next day. When Jongho told her she did not need to, she replied that it was nice to contribute, since she now considered them a second family.

I wanted to thank @littlestatesman for helping me a few months ago by giving me more information about Ateez than I had, and especially my Boo, @alixnsuperstxr who helped me with the entire drafting of everything written. Thank you so much for your friendship and support ❤️

taglist: @alixnsuperstxr | @bts-dream | @enchantingbrowneyedgirl | @ycuvi | @cosmicwintr

#bts 8th member #bts female member #ateez drabbles #ateez x reader #bts x reader #kpop female member #bts imagines #kpop female oc #bts drabble #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #hongjoong x oc #hongjoong x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook x oc

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