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24galaxies · 1 day ago

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My Home

Story line:- Azriel is sitting next to Elain as you sit by the fireplace reading. You’ve been staying with Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand for the past two months in Velaris. You’re a mortal but Rhysand says you have different abilities that no mortal should be able to have. For example, winnowing or teleporting. Azriel is in love with Elain Archeron even though Elain already has a mate.

Azriel x Reader

The crackling of the fireplace was the only sound that filled the sitting room. It should’ve been comforting—warmth wrapping around me like a favorite blanket—but tonight, it felt oppressive. Maybe it was because of him.

Azriel sat across from me, his form sharp and precise in the soft firelight, every inch of him exuding the kind of quiet power that left me breathless. As usual, his focus wasn’t on me. He was next to her—Elain Archeron. The golden one. The one with a mate.

I closed my book for the third time in as many minutes, unable to focus with the two of them so close. It wasn’t that they were doing anything inappropriate—Azriel wouldn’t, and Elain…well, she didn’t seem to notice his lingering looks. But I noticed. I always noticed.

I hated how it made me feel. A bitterness that lodged itself in my chest, turning my heart into something small and sharp. I wanted to tell myself it didn’t matter, that Azriel could love Elain if he wanted. But it wasn’t just love. It was something deeper. Something quieter.

And that made it worse.

I stole another glance, careful to keep my movements subtle. Elain was speaking to him, her voice soft and melodic. Whatever she said made Azriel smile—not a big, broad grin like Cassian’s, but a small, fleeting thing. I hated that I wanted to be the one to pull that smile from him.

“Y/N.”

The sound of my name snapped me out of my thoughts, and I looked up to find Azriel’s hazel eyes locked onto mine. My heart skipped, the intensity of his gaze startling me.

“You’re frowning,” he said, his voice low.

I blinked, scrambling to compose myself. “I’m not.”

“You are,” he insisted, tilting his head slightly. “Something wrong?”

It wasn’t fair. That look, that tone—like he cared. Like I was more than just a mortal girl who happened to land in their world.

“No,” I lied, forcing a smile. “Just tired.”

His gaze lingered, like he didn’t quite believe me, but then Elain spoke again, drawing his attention back to her.

And just like that, I was invisible again.

I didn’t stay in the room much longer. The fire was too warm, the tension too thick, and I needed air. Slipping outside, I welcomed the crisp night breeze that kissed my skin. Velaris was beautiful at night, the stars scattered across the sky like shards of silver.

It had been two months since I arrived here, and I still wasn’t sure if I belonged. Rhysand had insisted I was special, though I wasn’t sure what that meant. Mortals didn’t winnow, didn’t teleport from one place to another in the blink of an eye, but somehow I could. And no one—not even the High Lord himself—could explain why.

I let out a sigh, rubbing my arms as I wandered the gardens. Maybe I shouldn’t have come here. Maybe I should’ve stayed in my world, where things were simple and I wasn’t caught up in…this.

The sound of footsteps startled me, and I turned to see Azriel standing a few feet away.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, his voice quiet but steady.

I shook my head, trying to ignore the way my pulse quickened at the sight of him. “Just needed some air.”

He didn’t move closer, but his presence alone was enough to fill the space between us. “You left in a hurry earlier.”

I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Interrupt what?”

I glanced at him, biting my lip. “You and Elain.”

Something shifted in his expression—subtle but there. His shadows swirled around him, their movements restless.

��Elain and I…” He trailed off, as if searching for the right words. “It’s not what you think.”

“Really?” I challenged, folding my arms. “Because it looks pretty clear to me.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I thought I cared for her. That she could be—” He stopped himself, his jaw tightening. “It doesn’t matter.”

I stepped closer, my chest tightening. “It does matter. You can’t just…pretend it doesn’t.”

Azriel’s gaze snapped to mine, sharp and intense. “Why do you care?”

The question caught me off guard, and I opened my mouth to respond, only to realize I didn’t have an answer I was ready to give.

“Forget it,” I muttered, turning away. “Goodnight, Azriel.”

I didn’t look back as I walked away, but I could feel his gaze burning into my back.

The tension between us only grew after that night. Azriel kept his distance, but there were moments—fleeting glances, accidental touches—that left my heart racing. It was maddening, this dance we were trapped in.

It wasn’t until Cassian suggested sparring that I found an outlet for my frustration. The training yard became my escape, a place where I could channel all the emotions swirling inside me.

“You’re getting better,” Cassian said, blocking my latest strike with a grin. “But you still telegraph your moves.”

I rolled my eyes, adjusting my stance. “Maybe you’re just predictable.”

Cassian laughed, lunging at me with renewed vigor. I barely managed to dodge his attack, stumbling as I tried to regain my footing.

“Careful,” he teased, winking. “Wouldn’t want Azriel to think I broke you.”

My cheeks flushed, and I glared at him. “Shut up, Cassian.”

“Make me,” he challenged, his grin widening.

Before I could respond, a voice cut through the air like a blade.

“Enough.”

Cassian and I both turned to see Azriel standing at the edge of the yard, his expression unreadable but his tone leaving no room for argument.

Cassian raised his hands in mock surrender. “All right, all right. I’ll leave you two alone.” He shot me a knowing look before sauntering off, and I resisted the urge to throw my sword at him.

Azriel approached slowly, his wings tucked tightly against his back. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” I said, brushing the dirt off my clothes.

He didn’t look convinced. “You shouldn’t push yourself so hard.”

“I can handle it,” I snapped, more sharply than I intended.

Azriel’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might argue. But then he took a step closer, his voice softening. “I know you can. But you don’t have to prove anything to me.”

My breath caught, his words hitting me harder than they should’ve.

“Why do you care?” I asked, echoing his question from that night in the garden.

Azriel didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stepped even closer, his hazel eyes locking onto mine.

“Because I see you,” he said quietly. “Even when you think no one else does.”

My chest tightened, and I opened my mouth to respond, but he closed the distance between us before I could say anything. His hand cupped my cheek, his touch warm and grounding, and then his lips were on mine.

The kiss was soft at first, almost hesitant, but it quickly deepened, years of longing and restraint breaking like a dam. His shadows swirled around us, cocooning us in a world that was just ours.

When we finally pulled apart, Azriel rested his forehead against mine, his breath warm against my skin.

“I’m sorry it took me so long,” he whispered. “I was afraid.”

I smiled, my hands tangling in the fabric of his shirt. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

For the first time since arriving in Velaris, I felt like I was exactly where I was meant to be.

Over the next few weeks, everything shifted. Azriel and I found a rhythm, a quiet understanding that didn’t need words. He still had his shadows, his secrets, but he let me in, piece by piece.

Elain…she seemed to understand, too. There was no bitterness, no resentment—only a quiet acceptance that made me respect her even more.

As for me, I finally started to feel like I belonged. Rhysand’s court wasn’t just a place; it was a family, one I was proud to be part of.

And Azriel?

He was My Home.

#azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #pro azriel #acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel actoar #azriel x reader fanfic #court of nightmares #court of shadows #court of darkness #sarah j maas

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rickyriddle · 2 days ago

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So I have a theory regarding the Agatha What If…? episode. What if Agatha went to Hollywood? The episode doesn't really explain why she made that choice other than trying to get the Celestial’s powers. But I still wonder how she knew and why the regular Agatha didn't make that choice. And then I felt like the ending of the episode was a bit odd and maybe even ooc for her, to get convinced by Kingo like that. So I wondered: what makes this Agatha different from our Agatha?

They are similar, that's for sure. But the what if Agatha feels less… ruthless? Still self-serving and looking for more power, but a bit less murderous. Then it clicked. What if… Agatha never Rio? Now I know, we all love the idea of Celestial Agatha with Rio, both now cosmic beings but hear me out. First we don't know if Rio, as the comic entity of Death, has variants in the MCU. Tho ultimately, it doesn't really matter for this theory. Let's just imagine a scenario where these two didn't meet or never came to be a couple. What would have happened to Agatha?

Regardless of Rio, Agatha needed to steal powers from other witches in order to survive during the Salem years. She was already doing so before meeting Rio. But if she never met Rio, or never dated her, then it would also mean Agatha never had Nicholas. Never created the ballad. Never lost her son. Never started using this specific con based on the Witches Road to gain power as a way to cope with grief.

Now, how would that lead her to Hollywood? Well, main Agatha would have been too busy by first, running away from Rio, and secondly her road con. She'd be unlikely to look for another source of power when she got a successful con going on and unsuspecting witches falling into her lap all the time (as well as literal Death wrap around her finger).

But in a universe where she can't rely on that con or her cosmic wife, I think it's more likely that Agatha would look for power elsewhere, not just the magic she can steal from other witches. Hence why she ended up learning about the Celestial Tiamut and decided to go to Hollywood to hatch her plan to steal his powers.

That would also explain to me why this version of Agatha managed to be convinced by Kingo. Main Agatha would not have cared about what he said imo. But this Agatha isn't as bitter, hardened by the loss of her son and her complicated relationship with Rio. She might be more willing to bond with someone else who might share some of her experiences, possibly with loneliness and being different from their own kind. Agatha was always different from other witches due to her powers and never managed to connect with them, and she recognized that Kingo was also different from his own kind, the Eternals. So she knew he actually understood her and that might have led her to accept his proposition, and friendship.

But the main reason why I start thinking that Nicky didn't exist in that universe is that I cannot bring myself to believe Agatha wouldn't have tried to bring him back. With the powers of two Celestials, she could have rewritten the world like she wanted, yet chose not to and instead remained an actress. To me it feels like she didn't have something she wished to change about the world, which I don't think is conceivable if she lost Nicky in this universe too. There is also no mention or allusion to her dating Rio, so I do feel like these two were just not a thing in this universe and therefore, Nicky never came to exist.

Fundamentally, this is still Agatha, but she's not our Agatha we knew in WV and AAA. Same trauma with her mother and original coven, but different life experiences afterwards that could have led her to a drastically different path. I love agathario and imagining a world where they aren't a couple is hard, but I'm afraid that's what I feel like this episode was. Actually a “What if… Agatha never met Rio?’.

But hey, at least this episode confirmed she is indeed a lesbian, regardless if she's in a relationship with Rio or not.

#agatha harkness #agatha all along #what if #kingo #the eternals #mcu #marvel #agathario

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mattsobvimyfav · 3 days ago

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roommate (matthew sturniolo)

pt 20-

I led Matt upstairs to my room, the faint glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm light over the space.

I handed him a pair of my dad’s old sweatpants and a hoodie, figuring he’d be more comfortable in something other than his jeans and shirt. “Here,” I said.

“Thanks,” Matt replied, she started to slip out of his close and i caught myself in a trance staring at him as he took his shirt off. I quickly snapped out of it grabbing my own pajamas—a loose T-shirt and a pair of shorts, i finished changing and got into my bed, pulling the covers over me.

Matt turned to me as I took in his appearance, his hair slightly messy from pulling the hoodie on. He smiled as he walked over to the bed. “Alright, where do you want me?” he teased.

I rolled my eyes. “Just get in, dickhead,” I said, patting the spot next to me. He climbed in, and we both settled under the blankets, the room growing quiet except for the sound of our breathing.

It didn’t take long for Matt to shift closer, his arm slipping around my waist. “You good?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah, I’m good,” I replied, though my heart was racing.

He leaned in, his lips brushing mine softly at first, then with more purpose. I kissed him back, melting into the moment as his hand slid up my side. My skin tingled under his touch, and for a second, I let myself get lost in it. But then his hand dipped lower, brushing the hem of my shorts, and reality hit me like a freight train.

I pulled back abruptly, sitting up and pushing his hand away. “Matt, no,” I said, my voice shaky but firm.

He looked at me, confused and slightly hurt. “What’s wrong?” he asked, sitting up as well.

I swallowed hard, trying to gather my thoughts. “I can’t… I can’t do this, Matt. Not yet,” I said, looking down at my hands.

“Why not?” he asked softly, his tone more curious than frustrated.

I looked up at him, my eyes stinging with unshed tears. “Because I don’t trust you,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

His expression shifted, a mix of guilt and regret crossing his face. “Y/N…” he started, but I shook my head.

“You told me I was a mistake, Matt,” I said, my voice breaking. “You can’t just say something like that and expect me to forget it. I’ve been trying to, but it still hurts. And now, with everything that’s happened… I just don’t know if I can trust you”

Matt ran a hand through his hair, exhaling deeply. “I know I screwed up,” he said quietly. “And I’m sorry, Y/N. I really am. I didn’t mean it when I said that. I was just scared and being stupid. But I promise, I wouldn’t do that to you again. I care about you.”

I looked at him, the sincerity in his eyes almost breaking me. “I want to believe you, Matt,” I said, my voice trembling. “But I need time. I need to feel like I can trust you completely before we take things any further.”

He nodded slowly, reaching out to take my hand. “I’ll wait as long as you need,” he said softly. “I’m all in if you’ll let me be..”

“Really?,” I whispered, confused at what he meant.

“Yes y/n. I’ll stop. all the girls. All the hook ups. Just us.” He looked into my eyes and for the first time I actually believed him.

We laid back down, Matt wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled my back into his chest. I let my thoughts wonder about what it would be like to give Matt a real chance and see if he could truly change after I drifted off to sleep.

My eyes blinked open slowly, and I realized Matt’s arm was slung across my waist, his face buried in the pillow beside mine. His even breaths tickled my neck, and I smiled softly at the peaceful expression on his face.

Last night’s conversation played through my mind, The breakthrough we’d had, the honesty, the vulnerability—it felt good. It felt real.

Matt shifted slightly, his eyes fluttering open. When he noticed me watching him, a sleepy grin spread across his face. “Morning,” he mumbled, his voice gravelly from sleep.

“Morning,” I replied, feeling warmth bloom in my chest.

He leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. “How’d you sleep?” he asked, his hand brushing a strand of hair from my face.

“Better than I have in a while,” I admitted, my smile widening.

“Good,” he said, stretching his arms above his head before sitting up. “Smells like something’s cooking downstairs.”

I sniffed the air, the faint scent of bacon and coffee wafting into the room. My eyes lit up. “Dad must be making breakfast.”

We both got out of bed and quickly threw on some comfy clothes before heading downstairs. Sure enough, my dad was in the kitchen, flipping pancakes while the radio played softly in the background. He looked up when he saw us and grinned.

“Good morning, kids,” he greeted, gesturing toward the table where plates of bacon, eggs, and fresh fruit were already laid out. “I figured I’d make a proper breakfast since we’ve got company.”

Matt beamed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thanks, Mr. Y/L/N. It smells amazing.”.

We sat down at the table, and Matt immediately started piling food onto his plate. “Your dad’s already winning major points,” he whispered to me, making me laugh.

“Yeah, he’s the best,” I said, my heart swelling with affection as I watched my dad work.

When my dad finally joined us at the table, the three of us fell into easy conversation. Matt told my dad some funny stories about college life, and my dad shared a few embarrassing tales from when I was a kid, much to my dismay. Matt laughed so hard he nearly choked on his coffee, and despite my protests, I couldn’t help but smile at how natural it all felt.

As breakfast wound down, my dad clapped Matt on the shoulder. “You’re welcome here anytime, kid,” he said warmly.

“Thank you. That means a lot,” Matt replied, his sincerity evident.

I glanced between the two of them, my heart full as I realized just how lucky I was. This was what I’d been missing—these simple, happy moments.

After breakfast, Matt and I headed back upstairs. As I rummaged through my bag for an outfit, Matt leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching me with a lazy smile.

“You still up for Black Friday shopping?” he asked.

“Of course,” I said, pulling out a pair of black leggings and my favorite oversized hoodie. “Just promise not to ditch me if it gets too crazy.”

He laughed. “Deal. Though I’m pretty sure you could hold your own in a shopping brawl.”

I smirked, tossing my Uggs onto the bed. “You’d be surprised.”

After slipping into my outfit, I brushed my hair into a sleek ponytail and dabbed on some tinted moisturizer. Matt gave me an approving nod as I threw my bag over my shoulder.

“Perfect,” he said, grabbing his keys. “Let’s go.”

The drive to Matt’s house was quick and quiet, the town still buzzing from Thanksgiving festivities. Nick was sprawled on the couch, scrolling through his phone, while Justin was in the kitchen, pouring himself a coffee.

“I’m gonna head upstairs and change,” Matt said, tossing his keys onto the counter. “You good here?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” I said, waving him off.

I wandered into the living room, where Justin had settled onto one of the armchairs with his coffee. He looked up and gave me a grin.

“Y/N,” he said, setting his mug down. “Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon.”

“Yeah, Matt roped me into Black Friday shopping,” I said with a laugh, sitting down across from him.

Justin raised an eyebrow. “Brave of you. Matt’s got no patience for crowds.”

“I’ll survive,” I joked. “How have you been?”

We fell into easy conversation, talking about everything from school to his latest projects. Justin’s laid-back demeanor was infectious, and I found myself laughing more than I had in weeks.

Matt came bounding down the stairs, now dressed in a flannel shirt and jeans. “Ready to go?” he asked, grabbing his wallet off the counter.

“Yup,” I said, standing up.

Justin gave me a knowing look as we headed for the door. “Good luck,” he called out, grinning.

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help smiling as Matt held the door open for me.

Matt and I spent the entire day navigating the Black Friday madness, though surprisingly, the crowds weren’t as bad as I’d expected. We started at the mall, where every store seemed to have a massive “50% Off” sign in the windows.

The first store we went into was a shoe store. Matt immediately gravitated toward the Ugg section, spotting a pair of chocolate brown Ultra Minis that caught his attention.

“These are cute,” he said, holding them up.

“They are,” I agreed, but when he walked up to the cashier with them, I nearly lost it. “Matt, no. I don’t need new Uggs!”

“They’re half off,” he said with a shrug, ignoring my protests.

“But I already have a pair!”

“Yeah, and now you’ll have two.” He handed over his card before I could argue further.

I groaned but couldn’t help the small smile on my face. “You’re impossible.”

He just grinned and handed me the bag. “Merry early Christmas.” He kissed my cheek and I couldn’t help but blush.

After leaving the shoe store, we focused on getting gifts for our parents. At a cozy boutique, I found a padigonia sweatshirt that was perfect for my dad. Matt picked out a sleek leather wallet for Jimmy and a set of fancy coffee mugs for Mary Lou.

At one point, we stopped in a home goods store, where Matt dragged me over to the holiday display.

“Do you think my mom would like this?” he asked, holding up a set of Christmas-themed dish towels.

I laughed. “I think she’d appreciate the thought, but let’s find something a little more her style.”

By the time we finished, we had bags filled with thoughtful gifts for everyone.

We had gone too about five different stores in total, from clothing boutiques to a sporting goods store where Matt found something for Justin.

At one point, as we were walking through the mall, I nudged him. “You know, for someone who claims to hate shopping, you’re pretty into this.”

He laughed. “I don’t hate shopping, I hate waiting and people. There’s a difference.”

After hours of walking, we took a break in the food court, sharing a giant pretzel and some lemonade. Matt insisted on dipping the pretzel in cheese, while I stuck with mustard.

“You’re missing out,” he teased, holding up a cheese-drenched piece.

“I’ll survive,” I shot back with a grin.

By the time we finished, the trunk of Matt’s car was packed with bags, and we were both exhausted. On the drive back, I leaned my head against his shoulder.

“Thanks for everything today,” I said softly, glancing at him.

He looked over briefly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Anytime. We have to get back for the video though. We are reading fanfictions about ourselves and your judging them”

My eyes widened and I started laughing “I’m going to read them about you in my free time” I winked at him

“I know, your obsessed with me.” He clapped back.

A couple of hours later, I found myself squished into the back seat of Matt’s car next to Nick, his phone already in hand as he searched for fanfics. Matt was in the driver’s seat, adjusting the camera angle on the dashboard, while Chris sat in the passenger seat, looking less than thrilled about what was about to unfold.

“Nick, this is a bad idea,” Chris groaned, throwing his head back against the seat.

“Bad ideas make great content,” Nick said with a grin, turning his phone to show me the first story. “Ready, Y/N?”

“Oh, I’m ready,” I said, smirking.

Matt glanced at me through the rearview mirror. “Don’t let him corrupt you. These are going to be awful.”

“That’s the point,” I replied with a laugh, Matt his the record button.

Nick started dramatically: “Matt was in the library, headphones on, lost in his music. He didn’t notice her at first, the girl with the messy bun and oversized sweater, until she dropped her books. He rushed to help her, their hands brushing as they reached for the same book. ‘Sorry,’ she said, her cheeks pink. Matt froze. He’d never seen anyone so beautiful.”

Chris immediately burst out laughing. “Matt? In a library? I don’t buy it.”

Matt shook his head, covering his face. “I can’t believe people think I’m this smooth.”

“You are baby trust me” I winked at Matt causing him to smirk at me in the rear view.

Nick continued, grinning. “‘I, uh… like your sweater,’ Matt stammered. She smiled, and his heart skipped a beat.’”

“Okay, okay, pause,” I interrupted, laughing. “This gets a 5/10. Cute, but way too unrealistic. No way Matt’s heart skips a beat over a sweater.”

Matt turned in his seat to look at me. “Maybe it was you wearing the sweater.”

Nick pulled up another one and started reading. “Chris had seen her before, the girl who lived in the apartment next door. She always left her door open just enough for the scent of cookies to waft through the hallway. One night, he knocked on her door, pretending to need sugar. When she smiled at him, holding out a bowl, he thought, ‘This might be the sweetest face I’ve ever seen.’”

Matt snorted. “Chris, cookies? Really?”

Chris groaned. “This is so dumb. Why am I the guy knocking on someone’s door?”

Nick kept reading, barely holding back his laughter. “‘You should come by sometime,’ she said shyly. Chris found himself grinning like an idiot. ‘Yeah,’ he replied. ‘Maybe I will.’”

I rolled my eyes. “Okay, I’ll give this one a 6/10 for effort, but She should not be just leaving her door open.”

Chris turned around to look at me. “Very true”

Nick smirked as he opened the last fanfic. “Alright, this one’s spicy. It’s a love triangle with Matt and Chris both falling for the same girl.”

“Oh, God,” Matt muttered.

Nick began: “‘She was unlike anyone Matt had ever met. Smart, funny, and completely unbothered by his antics. Chris, on the other hand, couldn’t stop thinking about her smile. One night at a party, Matt cornered Chris in the kitchen. ‘Stay away from her,’ Matt growled. Chris smirked. ‘You’re just mad because she likes me more.’”

Chris groaned loudly, throwing his hands up. “God y/n they wrote a whole fanfic about you” Nick started hysterically laughing.

I couldn’t stop laughing. “Woah watch it. This one gets a 9/10. The tension is hilarious.”

Matt shook his head, trying not to laugh. “This is so dumb.”

“But entertaining,” I said, still grinning.

By the time Nick finished, my cheeks hurt from laughing. “Alright, guys, that’s it for today,” Nick said into the camera. “Make sure to like, comment, and subscribe. And keep sending these fanfics, because they’re pure gold.”

Matt turned off the camera, sighing. “I don’t know why we let you do this.”

“Because it’s funny,” I said, nudging Nick.

Chris leaned back in his seat. “Yeah, funny for you. Embarrassing for us.”

Nick shrugged. “That’s the price of content.”

As we sat in the car, still laughing from the ridiculous fanfics, I pulled out my phone and typed out a message to Matt.

Y/N: Wanna have another sleepover?

I hit send and glanced up, catching Matt’s subtle smirk through the rearview mirror. He pulled his phone out of the cupholder, glanced at the screen, and his smirk grew wider.

He texted back quickly:

Matt: Say less.

I bit back a smile, locking my phone as Nick and Chris kept debating over which fanfic was the most cringe-worthy.

“Alright, guys,” Matt announced, putting the car into drive. “I’m dropping you two off at home first.”

Nick whipped his head toward Matt. “What? Why? I thought we were hanging out?”

“Change of plans,” Matt said nonchalantly, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

Chris narrowed his eyes, suspicious. “What’s the real reason, huh?”

Matt shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road. “No real reason. Just figured you two could use some rest.”

Nick groaned. “Fine.”

Chris crossed his arms, mumbling under his breath. “Whatever.”

I leaned back in my seat, hiding my smile as the car filled with more playful bickering. Matt met my eyes briefly through the mirror, his expression unreadable but soft in a way that made my stomach flip.

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturiolo fanfic #roommates

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sports-on-sundays · 19 hours ago

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this simple feeling / LN4 & OP81 / Part 3

Summary: Lando x female!Australian!McLaren marketing unit worker!reader x childhood best friend!Oscar - Two Formula 1 drivers who just so happen to race for McLaren also just so happen to have fallen for you. Link to part 1, link to part 2

Warnings: I think I might've messed up the timeline just alittle bit but that's okayyyy (probably should have all taken place like a week or two later but I only realized that after it was all written so I guess you'll just have to deal with it; I'm sincerely sorry), language, sickness, vertigo, let me know if there's more I missed

Requested?: To be honest, I don't think so, but let me know if I forgot about you.👍

A handsome smile adorns Lando Norris's lips as he strolls down the Spanish paddock, and it's extraordinary to believe that despite his outside cover, he has the most pounding headache.

It's all my fucking fault, his mind roars as he catches the eye of Max Verstappen walking past and gives him a friendly wave. Y/n is a nervous wreck over the whole situation, and Oscar seems like he's going to blow if he sees me show Y/n affection one more time.

Why did I ever fucking start this stupid, stupid 'relationship?' It's a mess, and it's all my fault.

And I've got no way of fixing it.

Maybe I should have just given up Y/n in the first place, before all this happened.

Maybe I am wrong for getting in the way of her and Oscar.

But a part of him knows that's not right. He could never give you up. You could never give him up. And neither of you could ever give up on Oscar.

Even though it's starting to look like that might just be the best for him. Or at least, the best option at this point.

After I've gone and messed it all up.

For once in his life, sleep won't just take Oscar Piastri.

It sounds stupid, because he shouldn't be going to sleep. Not here. Not now. But as he lay in his driver's room, all he wishes is for sleep to take him away from his never-ending thoughts into a peaceful, sweet, dreamless slumber.

But every time he tries to replace his current ones with new ones, his brain always leads him back to the main point:

You messed up.

He sighs. He's just being over dramatic, isn't he? Isn't that all it is? Shouldn't he just get over himself?

It's not that he doesn't like Lando. In fact, he does. A... well, a lot. He could see himself having real affection towards him.

He might even want to.

But that longing, confused part in his brain keeps coming back to: But what if Y/n loves him more? Isn't he just getting in the way of what you always wanted?

Isn't this unfair, Oscar?

But that's just the worst part of it all.

It's not unfair. Not one bit.

For your whole life, Oscar has known you. For years, he's cared about you. He's even loved you. He just never said it. Always held back. When he shouldn't have.

If he had just acted way before, in the beginning, it would've been just you and him. That's the way it would have been, and Lando would have never gotten in the way.

But, Oscar's brain whispers, almost like a sneaking suspicion, do you really want Lando out of this, now that he's in it?

Maybe I just have to learn to accept it. Accept him. Trust them both.

Do I just need to get over myself?

Because I am the only reason why this isn't working...

Right?

No one else can feel it, but it's getting awkward. Not even so much in private. In private, Lando is honest, and Oscar tries. In private, you see. They're not all lovey dovey, but they care about each other. It's like all is well, though you and Lando both know how Oscar can get.

But in public, it's worse. Terribly worse. It's like Lando and Oscar want to have something, but they can't. It's like Lando wants it but Oscar won't let him... and, at the same time, as if Oscar wants it but Oscar also won't let himself.

Why not?

In public, since they have to fake, it's like it's hard not to. Because they're closer than friends, but not more than that.

In private, they're trying to fake, so it almost comes easier.

But in public, they almost avoid each other at the same time as being super friendly with each other when they do have to talk.

You hate it.

A huge part of you wonders: If Oscar likes Lando back, why doesn't he just relax and let this whole thing work? Doesn't he need it?

Doesn't he need Lando, just the same way I need him?

He certainly acts like it. Sometimes. The only solution you can think of, though a not very clear or perhaps not very accurate one, and one with certainly no answer, is this:

He wants you more than anything. But he needs Lando more than anything.

But because he wants you so bad, it hurts him to see Lando having you.

Though he has you, too.

But he can't let himself break out and let himself love Lando back, because his feelings towards you are so incredibly strong.

You sigh.

Oscar. Why can't you just give up? Give in? Why can't I show you just how much I adore you?

What do I have to do to show you?

Is there anything I can do that would be enough?

You sigh. What if you're all wrong? What if Oscar really can't love Lando back? What if this whole thing is bound to fail?

What if there's absolutely no solution?

As anxiety begins to fill your chest, you feel as though you're right back at square one again.

Why didn't I just choose, from the beginning? Wouldn't it have been better to break one of their hearts, than all three of our hearts?

Because isn't that what is going on right now?

We're all breaking.

And we wouldn't be if I hadn't ever, ever let it get this fair.

Damn it.

It really is all my fault.

Maybe it's all the stress, or maybe it's just the natural way of things, but either way, by the time a week later that the Austrian Grand Prix comes around, you are in no world feeling well enough to go to it.

Of course, that's fine. You're sick; no one will have a problem with you staying home to rest up and get better. There are plenty of other people who can take care of your usual responsibilities for one race weekend. That's not really a big deal at all.

Of course, Lando and Oscar sure treated the whole thing as one, both of them talking about how one of them should stay with you, and how are you going to get on by yourself, and they feel like such bad boyfriends for leaving you in your unwell state, and so on. Blah, blah, blah.

Really, it was the sweetest thing. You know you shouldn't complain. But you did end up telling the two they were both wrong, not to worry, go race, and it's quite easy to FaceTime and stay in touch so they can check up on you over the weekend.

So despite whatever your boyfriends think about it, that's the decision you made sure was made, because there was no way you'd let either of them do something so ridiculous as to miss a race because of you.

Especially not the Austrian Grand Prix, for God's sake.

Well, whether Lando and Oscar would admit it or not, both of them, in their own little ways, see this as an opportunity for connection with each other.

One-on-one.

So now, of course, Lando has been the sole thing, other than racing, that's been on Oscar's mind all weekend. So much so that he finds himself wandering towards Lando's driver's room after qualifying, his heart leading the way more so rather than his head.

When he reaches the door, he finds it ajar, and peeks in through the door frame, his heart pounding.

Why is his heart pounding?

He swallows, his eyes resting on Lando relaxing, scrolling his phone. He hasn't seen Oscar yet.

Lando. There's a lot I like about him.

Let's just try this. Just for now, forget about Y/n. Think about Lando. Think about all the reasons why you care about him. Think about it as if it were just you and him.

Would you want it to work?

He knows the answer, but wouldn't dare let himself consciously think it.

Oscar gently knocks on the door, as to avoid startling Lando, before saying softly, "Hey, Lando?"

The British man immediately looks up, his hazel eyes meeting Oscar's plain old brown ones. Though he doesn't smile, his eyes soften. And brighten. "Hey, Oscar." He sits up a bit, as to make more room on the sofa. "Wanna come in?"

Oscar nods, stepping inside. Gently closes the door behind himself. Somehow, Lando seems to understand.

He sits down. Closer to him. Turns and looks him right in the eyes. Opens his mouth to say something, but then closes it when he realizes he has nothing to say.

Lando talks instead. "How are you?"

"Fine... and you?"

"Good... I think the race should be promising."

Oscar nods in agreement. The silence feels so simply empty.

"You missing Y/n? Is that what it is?" Lando gently asks.

Oscar considers that for a few seconds, before slowly shaking his head 'no.' "Of course, I wouldn't mind her being here. But that's not it."

"What's 'it,' then?" Lando asks.

Somehow, he just knows, doesn't he?

Oscar's starting to see why you might love that about him so much.

"It's not Y/n I'm missing. I guess I'm missing you. And me. I'm missing us."

"Hm," Lando says simply, seeming to ponder that for a few seconds, before saying softly, almost as a dare, "How could you miss 'us,' if 'us' was never a thing?"

Oscar feels the sudden urge to reach out towards Lando. Put his hand on his, or fix that loose curl, or do something.

But he holds back. Like he's always done with you.

God damn it. Am I really doing it again?

What am I even doing?

"I guess..." Oscar murmurs after some hesitation, staring down towards the tiled floor, "I miss the 'us' that could be and should be but never has been."

Oscar feels Lando look up towards him, but continues staring at the floor.

"Look at me."

But Oscar doesn't dare.

That's when Lando gently moves his hand to grab Oscar's chin and force his head to look at him. Not in an overly gentle way, but not in a way that hurts.

Oscar sighs. Those eyes.

When did he start liking them so much?

"We can make that reality," Lando murmurs, in the same determined way he talks about sports, or strategies. "We can make it happen. You don't have to miss me, or Y/n, and we can make 'us' come true."

Oscar gulps. Nods, though he knows not why.

Maybe it's because I really do want it.

I do, don't I?

Us.

Lando reaches over and grabs Oscar's hand strongly. Wraps his hand around the other man's. "This simple feeling..." Lando whispers. "Don't you like it?"

Oscar swallows. "I don't know if I like it, but..."

Lando waits for him to finish, even after he's trailed off.

"...but I think I know that it's exactly what... what I need."

Lando sighs. A little smile even begins to sneak up on his lips, just gently. Softly. Hardly there.

That's when he leans in and pulls him into a hug. And embrace. And it's refuge that Oscar finds there, in his arms. The same kind of irreplaceable refuge he finds in your arms. He sighs, wrapping his arms back around Lando, feeling the warmth of his body around him like a blanket.

"This simple feeling," Oscar murmurs this time, mirroring Lando's words, swallowing, his voice cracking softly, though tears don't threaten to fall.

It's just a little raw.

"This simple feeling... it's exactly what I want. What I need. From both of you.

"It's like I'd be content if we let this last forever," Oscar finishes softly with, close to Lando's ear.

"We can make it last forever," Lando utters back.

And all time stops in that little room as the two men embrace. A cavern of honesty and truth.

A safe place that promises to hold them forever.

It's funny how someone's cares and concerns can be washed away so quickly.

Like, for example, Oscar's podium at the Austrian Grand Prix in 2024, seeing his team grin up at him, spraying the champagne with George and Carlos, the joy of getting second place.

Partially, also, the joy of being the one to score points for the team.

But once that's all done and he's talking and doing all that PR, it starts nagging at him. You're not here, which means Lando's all alone.

Probably fucking pissed off.

P20.

So it's a mix. He got 2nd! But Lando got 20th.

So he tries to get through all the PR gobbly-gook as fast as possible, while still putting on a good face, since he knows you'll particularly care a lot if he screws up all his interviews the one race you weren't able to make it.

As soon as he's set free from his duties, though, he rushes to Lando's driver's room. On the way, someone even grabs his arm, saying, "Oscar! Oscar! An autograph? Please?" but he brushes them off, saying, "If you stay around, I'll be back to give it to you!" before just running off again.

He honestly can't grasp why he's so particularly and intensely desperate to see Lando.

It's because he did something for me last night when I needed him. Now I can't just leave him when he needs me most.

Soon, he reaches the latched closed door and knocks hard, saying, "Lando? Are you in there?"

There's a few moments of silence, and for a moment Oscar's nerves tell him that Lando isn't even here, and that he ignored that fan for no reason at all, until those thoughts are interrupted with Lando responding with a heavy sigh in his voice, "Osc? You can come in."

Oscar sighs with a certain amount of relief before gently opening the door and letting it shut behind him.

Lando is standing, not facing Oscar, on his phone, texting. Head down.

"How're you-"

"Texting Y/n."

Oscar nods, slowly walking up behind him. He gently rests a hand on Lando's shoulder, and says softer, "What's she saying?"

"Everything she has to in order to try and make me feel less like shit."

"Is it working?"

Lando turns, looking over his shoulder back at Oscar with a wry smile, saying, "Not at all. Max is a fucking-"

"Cheater, aggressive driver, idiot, bad sportsman. I know that's everything you're going to say. You just need to blow off some steam, hm?"

Lando snorts, shutting off his phone, hanging his head. "I've had an hour and a half to do that since the race."

"It takes a while," Oscar says simply, giving his shoulder a squeeze.

Lando sighs, nodding. "I know... I guess I'm not even really that mad anymore. Just disappointed. And frustrated."

Oscar nods, glancing away, beginning to slip his hand off Lando's shoulder.

But Lando reaches back, slipping his hand over Oscar's to keep it there, dragging his other hand over his face with a heavy sigh

It's then that Oscar suddenly feels compelled to do something he never thought he would.

Yet he gives in, simply because it feels like exactly the right thing to do in the moment. So he wraps both arms around Lando from behind, pulling him towards himself, letting his nose and lips press against his neck, next to Lando's ear.

Lando sighs in something like contentment.

And Oscar feels himself smiling softly, before it quickly fades off, and he whispers gently in Lando's neck, "You're a good driver. You would've won that race. But I also know that means you'll be able to win the next one, hm?"

Lando nods, sighing. "You're right. I know you're right."

Oscar nods, murmuring, "But you have every right to be upset. And I'll be with you during that working through it as long as you want me to be."

Lando feels an unexpected smile begin to creep up on his face as he mutters, "I want you here with me every single moment you want to be here, Oscar."

"Yeah? It's funny how I've started to like to be with you more."

"I guess that's just my natural charm, hm?" Lando says softly, his smile growing.

Oscar can almost not believe how he naturally chuckles at that and responds softly, "I don't know about that..."

Lando is full on grinning now. That handsome, big, sunny smile of his. "Just ask Y/n about it. She'll tell you all about my charm."

"Hah," Oscar says sarcastically, but for some reason, instead of coldness, like that comment might used to have filled his chest with, he feels an undeniable, affectionate warmth fill his body.

A feeling that he seems to like a lot more.

He just re-wraps his arms around Lando and responds softly, "I'm sure Y/n would tell you all about my charm, too, Lando."

Lando smirks, glancing back at Oscar, meeting the Australian's milk chocolate eyes. "But you don't have to ask Y/n to hear about how charming you are, Oscar. I could talk about that all night." Lando's honestly not sure where all this bravery on his part is coming from, but he's honestly glad for it. Since it seems to be going down well.

Oscar's eyebrows raise as his light complexion becomes slightly flushed. "Hm. You could?"

"Oh yeah," Lando laughs a bit. A beautiful sound. Then the two remain in that peaceful silence, before Oscar lets his hands slip away from Lando gently.

Lando turns, taking the younger man's hand in his, looking earnestly into his eyes. "Hey. Congratulations on your P2, by the way. I was so caught up in my own shit, I completely forgot about your-"

"Don't worry," Oscar says, waving it off. "I don't mind. But thank you, anyway."

Lando grins, leaning in to kiss his cheek and saying simply, "No, thank you, Oscar. Look at the way you've managed to cheer me up like that, huh?"

Oscar smiles at that, his eyes fluttering shut for just a moment, perhaps in something like peace, or trust, for him to murmur, "Not sure how that happened..."

"Guess it's just that charm of yours we previously discussed, huh?"

And Oscar's eyes flutter open just in time to see Lando peck his lips.

And with Oscar's face fire hydrant red and Lando laughs filling the small room, I'll leave it up to the reader to go and imagine what could've happened next.

Oscar and Lando get out of the car, Lando holding some flowers and Oscar a grocery bag of goodies.

"You ready?" Lando says with a little smile, nodding to Oscar.

"Can't wait to see her, despite the poor state she must be in," Oscar says with a nod, and is about to start walking, when he suddenly stops and, with only a moment of hesitation beforehand, holds his hand out to Lando to take.

Lando looks at the hand, before looking up at Oscar again, taking his hand, with a little grin. He gives him a nod, before the two head off towards the house, hand-in-hand.

You're awakened in your feverish state by the ringing of the doorbell. You know you should get up and at least look to see who it is, but at the same time, who could it be? You're not expecting anyone. So you opt for the easier decision to just assume it's something unimportant like the mailman or something and leave it, letting yourself drift back into your feverish half-sleep.

But just as you're about to fully drift back off into slumber, it rings again. You sigh and stand up with an ornery groan, dragging your shaky legs to the window, to peek out of it, to see what on earth is so important.

But you stop as soon as you see them.

Your boys.

Lando holding flowers.

And what's more, they're holding each other's hands.

And they both look completely comfortable with it.

Really? Even Oscar?

He's not that good of an actor!

Soft smiles adorn both their handsome, perfect faces, shining like a charming prince and a shining knight.

Your foggy brain doesn't take the time to consider which is the prince and which is the knight, and you instead rush to the door right away, unlocking it and exclaiming, "Lan! Osc!" You stumble a bit dizzily as your weakened legs threaten to give out, but Lando's arm is there to steady you right away, keeping you from falling.

"Hey, Y/n," Oscar says gently, putting his arm on yours as Lando plants a quick kiss on your forehead, asking, "You okay?"

You sigh, nodding, and saying after the wave of vertigo subsides, "Just still a bit sick."

"No kidding. My God. Let's get you back inside and in your bed," Lando says gently, letting you use his arm to steady yourself as the three of you head inside and to your bedroom.

Once you're there and crawling back into bed, Lando hands Oscar the flowers and says, reaching in the shopping bag, "Got you some chicken noodle soup, Y/n. Want me to make you some?"

"Oh, God," you murmur, sinking back down against the pillow, "Yes, Lando, that'd be great."

He nods and leaves, going off to do that, leaving you with Oscar.

The first thing Oscar does is say, taking the blanket from the bottom of the bed, "Want this on?"

You nod, sniffing up your stuffed up nose. He gently tucks you in, kisses your forehead right where Lando kissed it, and grabs a tissue for you, seemingly out of thin air.

If you weren't a bit feverish, maybe you would of just known he got it out of the shopping bag. But you kind of missed that detail.

"We got you flowers," Oscar says gently, sitting on the edge of the bed, next to you.

You smile softly, leaning up to smell the bouquet, saying weakly, "Aw... that's so lovely... You guys didn't have to."

He smiles softly. "We wanted to treat you. To show you how much we missed you this weekend." He brushes a strand of hair from your forehead, before frowning and murmuring, "You're really warm. Hey, I'll be right back, m'kay?"

You're not sure how long it takes, but in a bit, Oscar comes back to place a cool cloth on your forehead, and puts the flowers, now in a vase, next to you, on your nightstand.

"They're so pretty," you murmur softly, gratefulness to you warm in your voice.

Oscar smiles. "Pretty flowers for a pretty girl."

You smile softly, reaching to take his hand. "I like you like this."

"Like what?" his eyebrows raise.

"All soft. I like that."

He smiles. "Just taking care of you." He leans down and kisses your cheek, saying, "Can I get you anything? A drink? Water, tea?"

"Oh... I think I'm good. But thank you," you weakly smile.

He nods. "Are you comfortable? Do you want a fan, or another blanket, or anything?"

You shrug. "I dunno... Maybe a fan would be nice. There's a big one in the closet. Jus' put it on low."

He nods and immediately heads to do that. Once he's done, he goes straight to the windows, saying, "And the blinds? Are they good the way they are, or should I-"

"Oscar, Oscar," you say softly, giving a lazy wave of your hand. "None of that matter. Not really. I don't really care. Why don't you just stop worrying and running around and taking care of me and doing everything for just a moment and just come and be with me, huh? That's what I want for you to do the most. Just come be with me. Let's just talk, hm?"

Oscar blinks. "Oh. Of course." He nods, making his way across the room. As he settles down on the bed next to you, he says simply, "Sorry."

"Don't worry. I like it. You just need to give yourself a break, too. And I want to talk with you, Osc." You slip your hand in his.

He nods, and after a few seconds murmurs, "Maybe that's just what I want, too."

"See?" you smile softly up at him.

You sit together in silence for a bit, him gently rubbing your hand in his, before you finally think to ask, "So... How... How are things with you and Lando?"

"You noticed a change, didn't you, huh?"

"For the better. Unless I'm imagining. Or you suddenly became an amazing actor in one week."

He smiles, nodding. "Lando, he... I think we worked it out. I worked it out."

"Worked what out?"

"That I love you, and I might just love Lando, and that in order to love one, I've got to love the other."

You stare. "You... You and Lando?"

Oscar nods. "We talked. I think I can make this work now. Let this work. We can let this work."

You smile. "Hm. Really?" you look at him with fluttery eyes.

He shrugs, smiling softly. "I can't just care about myself. That's not what a relationship is about. Nor can I just care about you. Nor can I just care about Lando. It needs to be selfless, you know? We need to be there for each other."

You grin and murmur, "For some reason, Osc, I really wanna kiss you right now, but I'm sick. It's like you've just said what I've been dreaming for you to say for weeks now. Probably months."

He smiles, nodding. "I guess it was bound to happen. I just had some things to work through. And even though I don't even know how, and don't think he does, either, Lando helped me work through them, partially, too... Oh, and by the way, with the kiss thing?" he smiles, leaning down a bit closer, before murmuring, "I'm sure you won't get me sick. You're probably way past being contagious." And with that, he closes his eyes and leans in to kiss you gently.

It's then that Lando walks in and says with that cheeky smile of his, "Hey, lovebirds, can I get in on this? When's it my turn?"

You pull away from Oscar and tease, "Oh, get back in the kitchen!"

"Jeez! I guess I'll just eat your soup, then, if you're going to be like that!"

"Wait! No!" you say, reaching your arms out for the tray in his arms.

He chuckles, placing it in your lap, and says, slipping on the bed next to you, on the opposite as Oscar, "Did you really think I would eat your food?"

"You might..."

He grins. "I might."

"Hey!" you giggle, rolling your eyes.

Lando lays down next to you as Oscar says, "My goodness, Y/n, you're so peppy as soon as Lando enters the room. You were acting so sick before, just a few minutes ago!"

You grin, looking him over with a shrug, "I guess I liked the way you were treating me so softly and delicately. I didn't want you to stop feeling like you had to take care of me. Now, come on. You lay down next to me, too, won't you?"

Oscar smiles and does so, murmuring, "I guess I can't say no, huh?"

You smile, contented, shutting your eyes as you feel the warmth from both of them, on each of your sides, envelop you. "I guess not."

As you eat your soup, your boys snuggle up to you, their arms wrapping around you, and the three of you talk. Mostly about Austria, and then about he upcoming British Grand Prix in less than a week now, which you're sure you'll be healed up enough for, especially since getting there doesn't require any planes or airports. Sometimes, that can be the worst part of travelling to Grand Prixs far away.

Soon, though, you finish your soup, and sink back down into the pillows, letting the tiredness seize your body once more. As you begin to drift off, the last thing you whisper is, "I love you guys..."

On each side, you feel each of their lips gently kiss your cheeks, but you don't stay awake long enough to hear how they respond to that.

Here you are, with your two McLaren boys.

Sure, there'll be rough spots. Lots of them. Something like this doesn't promise to be easy.

But sometimes, the harder path is the better one in the end.

And right now, in this simple moment, it feels perfectly worth it.

Well, maybe perfectly imperfect.

But would you really want it any other way?

This simple feeling...