#but i loved all of season 2 and how true it felt to them + i think a season 3 that resolves all of their issues will be so HEALING | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mrs-illyrian-baby · 3 months

Text

Omega Ours - Part 1 | Alpha!Cassian x Alpha!Nesta x Omega!Reader| Short Series 2.7k

After fighting your way out of every potential mating offered to you, your village sends you off with the High Lord. Rhysand, tired of dealing with the Alphas living in the House of Wind, gifts you to Cassian and Nesta in the hopes that it'll settle all three of you down.

Warnings: 18+ sexual content, language & themes. Omegaverse dynamics including Alpha & Omega and the sexist assumptions/implications that go along with it, heat/heat cycles, forced proximity, d/s themes, only one bed (and only one chaise), lots of tropey tropes! No use of YN but liberal use of pet names.

Divider by @firefly-graphics & @reveriesources

Cassian & Nesta - from Pinterest

Created for @polyacotarweek - prompt 5 faveourite tropes (Omegaverse, only one bed, forced proximity, sort of insta-love)

Part 2 will be posted on the 13 (Free day!) follow @illyrianlibrary for updates ❤️

Part 2 | Masterlist | Poly Fics | Cassian

The only way to describe the couple stood before you was - handsome.

The High Lord and Lady who’d brought you here were beautiful, elegant. But this couple could only be described as handsome, strong, Alpha.

You knew them, of course. General Cassian of the Nightcourt and his mate, Lady Nesta. Lord of Bloodshed and Lady Death, they’d called them in the camps that circled the Illyrian villages like pilot fish on a shark.

“I’ve brought you a present,” Rhysand drawled, pointing at you. “Well, it’s a favour and a present. The last unmated omega of the season. She's from the Western Isles, I thought it might help to tamp down your behaviour if you two had a project.” He grinned and you turned to look at Nesta and Cassian again.

It was true, you’d rejected every mate offered to you, bitten some of them, in your desperation to get away, and that’s how you’d lost your freedom. Fighting the boys from the village was one thing, fighting an Illyrian was another. They’d hauled you into the camp in front of the High Lord on his last visit and demanded compensation.

Rhysand, ever flush with jewels and gold, had paid them and then had a set of cuffs and leathers made for you. Nightcourt black velvet, red stitching and silver buckles. But restraints were still restraints, no matter how soft they felt against your wrists and ankles. He’d had new clothes made for you as well, traditional sheer panels of matching blood red that hung in gossamer curtains down your legs, pooling around you as you were forced to your knees in front of the Lady and General.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Nesta studied her nails, her air bored but her eyes kept flickering towards you.

“Come now, Nesta, we both know you and Cassian caused quite the stir the last time you were both in heat.”

You were right then, you could smell it on them anyway, that raw power and strength that designated them as Alpha.

“Still - you want us to take care of your problems?” Nesta huffed.

“Of course not, she’s a gift, for you and Cass, if you happen to tame her enough that she stops mauling my men then that’s a bonus.”

You looked between them, it was undeniable how attractive they were. Better than the mud caked idiots from the village at least, but you still railed against the hand that dragged you back to your feet.

Cassian kept his hand under your elbow, pinching your cheeks with his other hand. “Come on, Nes. She’s cute, isn’t she?” He angled your face up towards his mate.

Nesta shrugged one shoulder and you snarled, snapping at Cassian’s fingers.

“Feisty,” he gave a deep chuckle, “I like that, that’s how Nes and I got together.” He hauled you over his shoulder, your legs and arms dangling, the panels of your dress slipping dangerously.

“Put me down!” You beat your fists on his back.

“Should have thought of that before you tried to bite me,” he teased, jostling you.

You scowled at Nesta, who followed, laughing, through the halls of the palace and then tried using the only knowledge you had about the Illyrians. You reached out and grabbed his wing, squeezing as tightly as you could.

He growled back, the sound travelling up through his chest into yours, vibrating your very core.

“You want to play rough? Good.”

Cassian shouldered a heavy door open and suddenly the sweeping corridor was gone and a dark, warm room wrapped itself around you.

The walls were an oxblood red with thick velvet curtains that lay heavily in front of the eternally open windows. The soft jasmine breeze that circulated through the house was mixed with the cleaner scent of mountain air and the crackling of a fire, rich and inviting.

The general set you down, his gaze travelling slowly down your figure. He clenched his jaw and then instantly turned to his mate, cupping her cheeks in his large hands and kissing her roughly. She growled in response, leaning into his embrace and allowing him to lift her against his body. You watched as he carried her across the room to an open archway, almost hidden behind a large tapestry, and then they vanished again.

Tentatively, as much as you could with the thin chain connecting your ankles, you crept across the room to the curtain, now brushed back and curling heavily on the polished floor.

Nesta and Cassian were tangled on the bed, the heady scent of their arousal lay thick in the air, the bedsheets already rumpled as if they’d been interrupted before, the room in disarray.

On both bedside tables there were stacks of books of various genres, a pitcher of water on one and dagger on the other.

“Either come in or go,” Nesta groused from the bed, hair messy, one of Cassian’s hands still tangled in the long golden-brown strands.

“Play nice, Nes.” The general laughed, biting at Nesta’s earlobe. “You can join us or you can sleep,” he said over his shoulder.

Sure enough there was a small chaise made up with blankets at the end of the bed. You shuffled over, and fell heavily onto the soft cushions listening to the sound of their love making. Each grunt and moan made you press your thighs together harder. Each stifled sigh had your hands twitching, itching for something more. You may have rejected every attempt at a mating, but you weren’t completely without feeling, without desire and needs and lust.

You lifted your hands to cover your ears, the chain between them digging into the bridge of your nose, and fell into a confused sleep.

You awoke to the sound of moving bodies and cloth dragging on the floor.

“She’s asleep, let her rest, Cas.”

“What if she’s cold?” The footsteps came closer and you tensed on instinct. The steps stopped, but a gentle weight floated down on you, a large cotton blanket, awash with their scent, settled.

“I’m going to wash,” Nesta’s voice faded as she walked away but there was no other movement.

“I know you’re awake.” His voice was loud in your ear, closer than you’d expected and you jumped again, almost sliding from the chaise. Cassian’s arm caught you, tight around your waist and his bareskin was so warm against your own. You cracked one eye open and looked around the room as best you could with his wings blocking out the faint candlelight.

His arm was speckled with tiny scars that twinkled against his tan skin, the hair that decorated his forearm was as dark as the long tendrils that brushed over his shoulders and this close, his chin almost resting on your own arm, he smelt heavenly. That mixture of his own scent and Nesta’s even stronger in his proximity and, no doubt, enhanced by their earlier activities.

“If you want, you can borrow some clothes.” His voice was a sleepy rumble and you resisted the urge to let your omega instincts take over and push yourself back into his chest, seek out that warmth, that comfort - but you didn’t respond.

The sound of running water in the other room stopped, replaced with the gentle pad of Nesta’s footsteps and then she was in front of you. Surrounded by them again you had to fight back every urge to give in to her wicked mouth, her lips plump and kiss bitten.

“We’ve left you some things on the chair, choose what you will. If you want to join us on the bed, you can.” Nesta moved away taking Cassian with her and you assumed from the gentle rustle of sheets they were back in bed.

The chair that sat opposite their grand fireplace was strewn with clothes, silky looking negligees and billowing linen shirts, some cotton leggings and a pair of woollen socks.

Waiting a moment, hoping they weren’t looking, you rose from the chaise and rushed for the chair. The translucent dress the High Lord had had you wear left your skin cold and bare, exposed and vulnerable. Cassian’s shirt was a welcome relief, covering your body from view, although the two slits in the back for his wings did feel slightly odd. The socks were warm and fluffy, long enough to reach almost to your knees. Redressed, you turned to return to your chaise and tugged the blanket up to your chin.

You didn’t really want to spend the entire night there, but you also refused to give in to the ridiculousness of the situation. No one chose your mate, or mates, for you and you’d rather sleep on the tiny chaise that allow anyone to take that choice from you.

Thankfully, Nesta and Cassian had turned away, the Illyrian’s large wings spread over the bed,. Shielding his mate from view? Or stopping her from following you around the room with her silver stare? You weren’t sure, but you were grateful as you closed your eyes.

It was only as you were falling asleep that you realised you were snuggled into the shirt, inhaling Cassian’s scent, and by then it was too late, you were tumbling into your dreams.

The next morning Cassian and Nesta were gone, but someone had left a tray of food, a pot of tea and a stack of books on the table. The doors to the balcony were open and the jasmine wind blew the curtains back so invitingly you couldn’t resist.

You were halfway through one of the books they’d left, something by Sellyn Drake that had far more smut in it than you were anticipating. A slice of buttered toast was stuck halfway to your mouth as you stared transfixed at the page, when the door opened. Cassian held the door for Nesta, taking a long sword from her hand and placing it on the table that was perpetually strewn with weapons. His own sword and daggers followed and the two of them began to strip out of their leathers.

There had been a rumour that Nesta trained alongside the Lord of Bloodshed and the Shadowsinger, trained with other women as well, but you hadn’t thought to believe it until now.

Her leathers were tight against skin, a sheen of sweat making her sparkle, her long hair was tied up in what was now a messy ponytail and, most surprising of all, she was smiling broadly at Cassian. He returned the smile, cupping her cheek and pulling her in for a kiss, his hands wandering down to the buckles and clasps that held her fighting leathers together.

Cassian looked equally as powerful, his own armour dark against his tanned skin, his tattoos flowing under the leather before appearing again at his collar bone and trailing over his shoulders towards the vast wings at his back. You set the book down slowly, the lust filled scene already had you feeling hot under Cassian’s shirt even before they appeared.

The movement caught his eye and he turned, taking Nesta with him and pinning her against his chest. They way they looked at you, like the most delicious prey, had you pressing your legs together. You wouldn’t give in to this, especially not when it was exactly what that smug prick of a High Lord wanted.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he cooed, “Would you like to join us?”

It was Nesta who held her hand out, crooking her finger to coax you forward. “We’re going to bathe, the tub is large enough for three, come.” It was more a demand than a question and, though you longed to see how far down Cassian’s tattoos went and how Nesta would look covered in bubbles, you resisted again.

With a shake of your head you went back to your book, trying to ignore the sound of them together through the wall.

You fell into a rhythm, the three of you. Nesta and Cassian continued as they were, training, working in the library and attending meetings, and inviting you to join them whenever they were together.

Your nights on the chaise were becoming increasingly uncomfortable, but you refused to be worn down by their requests, preferring to stay silent and read alone either on the balcony or by the fire. No amount of reading could drown out the sound of their love making, though. If you could call it that, judging by the bruises both of them sported proudly and the way their headboard banged against the stone wall.

Despite your protests their allure was difficult to ignore, their playful banter, the care and attention they showed each other, even the way they whispered in bed, dissecting the day's events and, on a few occasions, discussing you.

This only happened when you were pretending to sleep heavily, breathing slow and steady as you wished for dreams to take you.

“Nes, did you see the way my shirt fit her today, rolling up her thighs-” Cassian had made a deep, guttural noise, only to be shushed by Nesta.

“Yes, Cas, stop, she’s right over there.” Nesta hissed in return.

“I know, God, she’s so fucking close, don’t you think she smells good?”

“You know I do.” The sheets rustled and you heard Nesta whimper as a wave of arousal flooded you. They could smell you, you knew it and you couldn’t stop it.

Sleeping in their room, bathed in their scent every day, surrounded by their things, it was like a huge nest and the longer you lingered here the more you wanted to give in and climb into their bed, to be between them and allow them to care for you.

You knew something had changed when you woke up drenched in sweat. As usual, Nesta and Cassian had already left the room, your breakfast arranged in its spot, clothes laid out for you. They’d started adding some new things, items that smelt like neither of them, clean linen and lavender, but you were still drawn to their items the most. Perhaps, it was the way they smiled when they saw you cuddling into one of Cassian’s shirts or standing on the balcony in one of Nesta’s dresses. But you refused to confront that feeling.

Despite your long, cold, bath you still felt hot and uncomfortable. It was mid way through stripping off your linen trousers that Nesta reappeared. She moved with a preternatural grace that you were sure existed well before her sister’s ascent to High Lady. A smoothness to each turn of her hand, or extension of her arm, she made walking seem like a dance and you were transfixed.

Nesta stopped as soon as she saw you, her nostrils flared, almost imperceptibly.

“Are you okay?” she asked in that cool, silvery voice.

“Yes,” your voice felt hoarse. You barely spoke and had gone days without saying anything to either of them, merely existing in their presence. But now, locked by her gaze, there was no escaping.

“You seem -” she weighed her words carefully, “unwell.”

“I can assure you, I’m fine.” You took a half step towards the balcony doors, hoping the breeze would cool your skin.

Nesta hummed, surveying you from head to toe. “I’d feel better if you got into bed.”

You knew this was as persuasive as Nesta could be, a simple request made in the lowest of tones, an argument not worth having.

“I-”

“The bed.” She crossed the room swiftly and turned you towards the large, velvet draped bed that took up a large portion of the room. Since your first entrance into Nesta and Cassian’s suite, you’d done your best to avoid even looking at it. Now there was no escape.

Your hands were shaking, a tingling heat rising from your spine and coiling in your stomach. On this occasion, just once, you’d listen to her. “Fine.” With great difficulty, you pulled the shirt over your head and dropped it to the floor. You were so tired. When had you become so tired?

Nesta’s deft fingers grasped your chin, holding you still so she could look at your pupils, large and frightened. “Get in bed and go to sleep,” she insisted, and you obeyed.

Part 2

514 notes · View notes

holllandtrash · 1 year

Text

fragile line | daniel ricciardo

pairing: daniel ricciardo x driver!reader

You and I walk a fragile line I have known it all this time But I never thought I'd live to see it break

what happens when the driver daniel falls in love with, ends up being the one who brings his career to a screeching halt? word count: 7.7k (im so sorry) warnings/tags: fluff-ish, plot with implied/very little smut, angst, mclaren danny, zak brown (gross), some incorrect f2 stats but whatever, time jumps, really just a lot of angst, its a rollercoaster

“What do you know?”

“What do you know?” Daniel repeated the question back to you, the emphasis making it clear as day that you both carried the same career-altering information.

His signature grin and comforting optimism were nowhere to be seen. Instead, Daniel’s expression could be described in a variety of ways. Solemn, disappointed, hurt.

“What was I supposed to do?” You asked, going straight to the defensive. You couldn’t be helpful in this scenario, you just needed to explain yourself. He wouldn’t understand it from your perspective, but you had to try.

“Not take the seat,” he offered a solution, as if it was that simple. “My god, I mean, they’re cutting my contract early, Y/N. For you.”

“For the sake of the team,” you corrected. You had no say in this. McLaren had plenty of driver options for the 2023 season. There were rumours of Daniel’s contract coming to an end a year early anyway, everyone heard them, everyone ignored them. The only thing that remained uncertain for a while was who would replace him should the rumours be true.

You.

“You don’t even like McLaren.” You told him, voice raising a little as if that helped get the point across. “You’ve struggled with this team since day one.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to stop racing.”

“McLaren is not the team for you and you know this.”

Daniel scoffed, eyebrows twitching, “Did Zak tell you to say that?”

It was a rhetorical question, but Daniel noticed the way your bottom lip quivered. He caught the way your eyes dropped from his, even just for a split second. There was something unspoken between you, something that weighed on your mind and Daniel stepped forward, wanting to know what exactly it was.

“Zak-” you started, reluctant to even say this. “-he doesn’t know I’m here. I’m not supposed to be here. I’m not supposed to talk to you or anyone about it, not until your announcement comes out.”

Here meaning Daniel’s flat in Monaco. The place you spent more nights at than your own. You played it off by saying his view was better but that was such a bullshit answer. Daniel’s flat always felt more like home than yours ever did.

You had formally met the Australian driver a few years ago, but god did time fly. It was at a race in Monza. You could pretend you didn’t know the date but of course you did, you had it memorised. September 3rd, 2020. There was no way you could forget the day your life changed for the better.

Or possibly, for the worse. It was up in the air at this point.

You were new to the Formula 2 series. The only female driver on the grid as you raced with Prema alongside Mick Schumacher. F3 proved to be quite a successful stint for you and you had your eyes set on the coveted Formula 1 series. You wanted to be in the big leagues.

Daniel saw that. He saw how determined you were to not only make waves in Motorsport, but to make something of yourself. You trained just as hard, if not harder than the other drivers in the junior series and Daniel had seen that for a while. He was often surprised to see you at the hotel gym, already working up a sweat when he walked in at a little after 6am. He would be even more surprised when he saw you there in the evening when other drivers went and called it a night or even went and celebrated.

Your race weekends were the same as F1 weekends, but you just had limited ones. It was a shorter season, less intense, but whenever you were there. Daniel saw you. He saw you and he paid attention. He even rooted for you, very publicly as well whenever he could, despite the two of you never having exchanged a word.

The first time you heard about Daniel cheering you on was after the Monaco race, quite early on into your first season. You qualified 7th, not ideal for a track like Monaco where the opportunities to overtake were far and few between, but somehow you did it. And then you did it again. And you could say it was luck but it was really smart strategy and an insane amount of driver skill that had you finishing fifth. In Monaco.

Those were Daniel’s words. He was asked pre-race if he watched the F2 run and he said of course. He said he “wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” wanting to see what you could do this weekend.

“It’s not luck, she’s incredibly talented,” Daniel had told the Sky Sports reporter. “She’s doing big things in the series, and I’m rooting for her. Truly. It’s rare a driver comes around with such raw natural talent, where you look at them and you know racing’s just in their blood, but it’s in hers. I would love to see her in Formula 1 one day.”

You watched that interview clip about twenty times. Daniel Ricciardo, the Daniel Ricciardo who had won Monaco a few years back, was complimenting you. He was rooting for you.

It wasn’t until Monza, nearing the end of your season that he finally approached you.

“I want to work with you,” Daniel said, straight to the point. You were in the middle of stretching in the hotel's fitness centre. It was only Thursday, the race weekend itself had barely started but Daniel knew he’d find you in there.

You pulled your airpods out and looked up at him in the mirror, “You what?”

“I want to work with you,” Daniel repeated, this time sitting down on the floor next to you. He kept your stare in the reflection. “I’m not a trainer by any means, but I want to work with you. I want to see you in Formula 1.”

You were flattered, honoured really, but you didn’t know what that entailed. “Work with me how?”

“Well, regular fitness training for starters,” he said. “But managing, really. I want to help you with everything that it takes to move up. Media training, mental preparedness, finding sponsors, getting you in touch with the right people. Let me help you, Y/N.”

You weren’t sure what brought this on. Part of you was convinced it was because he knew this would look good on his behalf. If you did make it to Formula 1 and Daniel’s name was attached to yours, he’d look like a genius. A hero. He would be known as the first person from F1 to publicly support you.

But that wasn’t what it was at all. When you agreed and accepted his help, you soon came to learn that Daniel didn’t want to be in your spotlight at all. He found the opportunities that you needed and then stepped back. He didn’t mention to the media at all that he was helping you, he didn’t see a need to. He saw your potential and he truly wanted to help you make something off.

So there he was during the off season, meeting you in London where you resided. He trained with you, set you up with the right people, did weekly check-ins, he really was like a sort of manager.

He was there during pre-season testing the following year, literally. He stood in the Prema garage like he was just another member of the team. No one really questioned it, not when you said he was acting as a mentor to you. Everyone loved Daniel’s presence there and he was told he was welcome whenever.

He was there during race weekends whenever he could find time in his own busy schedule. He was never there during the actual race, needing that time to prepare for his own, but he always watched from his drivers room or had someone in his ear updating where you were and what was happening.

He was there in Silverstone, when you crashed during Saturday's Sprint Race.

It was one of the last sessions of the day, Daniel had already finished qualifying and he was standing in the back of your garage, arms crossed over his chest, eyes glued to the screen.

He was the first voice you heard when you spun, losing the breaks in mere seconds and all you could do was brace yourself for the impact of the barriers.

“Tell me you’re okay.” Daniel’s voice came through your radio. Not your engineer, not your team principal. Daniel. “Say something, sweets, tell me you're okay.”

Sweets, he called you. But only ever in private, or in front of close friends. What started as a joke when you complained about him not having any sweets in his flat the first time you visited in Monaco, stuck.

But everyone had access to the team radios. It could be heard by other engineers, other teams, fans even and those watching at home should F1TV choose to broadcast it.

Of course they did. They aired the exchange for everyone to hear and it spread like wildfire. It was all anyone on social media could talk about.

“Say something, sweets. Tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” you sputtered out, hands shaking as you unclenched them. It was an instinct to pull them off the steering wheel and tuck your arms to your chest, physically bracing where you could.

“Good,” Daniel breathed out a very obvious sigh of relief. “Good.” He paused, and then with a quiet chuckle added, “What the fuck was that then?”

You laughed in response, needing the humour at such a traumatic time. You had crashed before, but this was a bad one. You didn’t even need to step out of the vehicle to know you were lucky to not feel any immediate injuries, but there was a ringing in your ear and the adrenaline was preventing you from really understanding the damage your body had sustained.

It wouldn’t have helped, though, to have gotten an earful, not like it was your fault anyway. It also wouldn’t have helped if you were asked again and again if you were okay. The more people asked, the more stressed you would grow. Daniel knew you needed a bit of lightheartedness at this time.

“No brakes, Danny,” you answered through a soft laugh.

“That just sounds like an excuse to me,” he muttered, the sarcasm evident even through the crackling radio.

“Are you going to continue to question my driving abilities or are you going to send medical out here to help me?”

That whole interaction went viral. From the radio message, to the clips of Daniel accompanying you to the medical centre, to the photos of the two of you smiling in the paddock despite the bruising on your body, the concussion you were diagnosed with and the instruction from the doctor that you were not stable enough to race on Sunday.

Which sucked, to put it plainly. But you were with Daniel. He made the situation bearable. With his arm around your shoulder, he walked you to the car at the end of the day, having waited with you the whole time.

People speculated, of course. Questions were asked.

Why was Daniel Ricciardo paying such close attention to you? Why did he get over the radio when he crashed? Why did it sound so flirty? Had he been in your garages the whole time and no one noticed? Was he a mentor? A friend? More?

You had put out a statement when you got to the hotel, thanking everyone for the kind words and well wishes. You shared that you would not be driving on Sunday and you also shared that you were thankful for the support of Daniel Ricciardo, your mentor, who reminded you that even the best of the best crash out sometimes.

Mentor, you publicly called him That’s what he was, right? Or trainer. Or Manager. Or friend, really. There were a lot of words to describe his relationship to you.

People online didn’t believe it. They thought there was more because, who looks at each other like that if they’re not fucking?

But you weren’t. Honest to god, that line with Daniel was never crossed. You never even considered it. Always content with his companionship and his advice, you didn’t want anything physical or romantic.

At least, you thought you didn’t.

Daniel dragged you into his room instead of letting you go up to yours because you were under strict instructions to not be left alone for the next twelve hours should the concussion worsen.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, handing you a glass of water. “I know I joked over the radio, but I was worried. It wasn’t a pretty crash.”

“Are any crashes pretty?”

He sat down next to you, closer than normal considering when he rested his arm over the back of the couch, his fingers were within the distance needed to play with the strands of your hair.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth, “I guess it depends on the driver. I make the crashes pretty.”

The comedic gasp you let out as you clenched your chest had him laughing.

“Daniel Ricciardo, are you calling me ugly?”

“Don’t twist my words!” He exclaimed, eyes squinting as his smile widened. “I said I was pretty.”

You hummed, “You pretty much said I made the crush ugly.”

“I didn’t say you were ugly,” Daniel playfully tugged on a strand of your hair. “You’re not- I mean, you-”

And then the humour faded. He met your eyes, his hand fell to your shoulder. He was still smiling but it was the sort of gentle smile one wears when they figure out the answer to a question that had been eating at them for a while.

Something clicked for Daniel. At this very moment.

He wasn’t going to let it escape him.

“Pretty doesn’t do you justice,” Daniel told you, voice lowering. “You’re breaktaking, Y/N. On the racetrack, at home, at events, you put everyone around you to shame. And it’s not- it isn’t just your appearance, it’s you. Everything about you. Your heart, your charisma, the way your eyes light up when you smile but only if you’re talking to people you like,” he chuckled, having experienced it first hand and having seen the way you don’t look nearly as pleased when someone you dislike approaches you.

You were speechless, though. Frozen where you sat as this admission came out of seemingly nowhere.

And Daniel was attractive, that was an undeniable fact, he was everything anyone could ever want in a man. But you never allowed yourself to look at him the way other people would. He was your trainer, manager, mentor, friend.

You had no words to explain the way he was staring at you now. Nor could you explain why it made you feel more alive than driving a racecar at inhumane speeds ever could.

Daniel took another breath, eyes never leaving yours. “You are unlike anyone I have ever come across and I know, in my lifetime, I will never find someone who could ever compare to even a fraction of who you are.”

There was no way you could continue to be just friends after those words passed his lips.

You kissed him. You had to. It wasn’t like there was anything you could say that would match what he had already said, nor could you even find the words.

You kissed him and Daniel pulled you onto his laps, your legs moving to straddle either side of his hips. His hands roamed your body, sliding up the Prema shirt you still had on as your tongue roamed every possible inch of his mouth.

His hand gripped your waist, rolling you over top of him so you could feel in a matter of seconds how this conversation had now taken a turn. His cock started to harden, constricted by his pants, but you still felt it underneath you each time he shifted, each time you grinded against him.

When you reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it off, Daniel leaned back, both of you taking that second to catch your breath and question if you were really going to do this.

“Is this a mistake?” You whispered, your thumb gently tracing over his lips. Your working relationship was perfect. This could ruin everything. You had fears, doubts, worries. One night could lead to dozens of complications.

But Daniel shook his head and all of those thoughts vanished.

“No,” he said, sounding so sure of himself with that one syllable. “I’ve made plenty of mistakes in my life but you are not one of them.”

That was the only validation you needed. You kissed him again, more lust, more passion, than before as Daniel stood up, carrying you towards the bed at the back of the room. He dropped you down on the edge of it, smiling at the squeal that escaped your lips.

Daniel wanted to worship you every way he could. He was gentle with you, with your body, as he dipped his head between your thighs, making you feel a wave of euphoria that no one had ever brought you too before.

It wasn’t until you were begging for more did Daniel realise he didn’t need to be gentle the entire night. He slid two fingers past your folds, lifting his head and hovering his body over yours, wanting to feel your desperate breaths hit his face as he rapidly thrusted his digits in and out of you, your walls clenching around him.

When he attached his lips to that spot on your neck, his teeth pressing against your skin, you saw stars. Daniel’s motions didn’t let up as you came around his fingers, loving the way your legs shook and how you dragged your hand through the hair on the back of his head.

He was cautious about doing anything else, knowing you were injured, he didn’t want to overstimulate you or cause any more pain.

But you needed him. You reached for the zipper of his pants and tugged it down, telling Daniel you wanted this, as if the way you looked up at him didn’t already make that perfectly clear.

He was careful when he entered you, patient. The tip of his cock slid past your folds slowly and he kissed your collarbone so gently you almost didn’t feel it as you adjusted to his size, quiet moans emitting from the back of your throat.

He had praised you before, but only ever at the race track, so there was something so familiar yet so foreign about the way he whispered against your skin. It lit a fire within you.

“You take me so well, sweets,” he fought back a groan as your walls tightened around him when you clenched your legs. “So good for me.”

It was safe to say the dynamic between you two changed after that night.

Daniel adored you already, admired you greatly for your achievements and growth in the sport. But now he fought with himself every weekend, knowing that he couldn’t touch you how he wanted. He couldn’t show you the attention he so desperately wanted. He couldn’t kiss you when you got that podium in Belgium, despite finding a way to sneak out of the pre-race duties for a second to run to the barrier to be there for you with the rest of the Prema team.

Whatever was going on between you, it was unlabelled and it was private. The rest of the world didn’t need to know you were sleeping with the man you looked up to, the one who helped you become a great athlete in such a short period of time.

People continued to speculate. You were private, sure, but you weren’t overly careful.

You were seen landing in Monaco over the summer. You were spotted hanging out with Daniel on plenty of occasions. Even though you kept your hands off of each other and refused to act like anything more than friends out in public, you were different when you returned after the break. You both were. Everyone noticed.

Daniel was, if it was even possible, happier. And you were less stressed it seemed. While you were still fighting a constant battle of being the only female in F2, it no longer seemed as heavy because the weight of it wasn’t just on your shoulders anymore. Daniel was there too.

It wasn’t just physical, what you had. The emotional connection you shared was undeniable. Daniel was always there for you, and you, him. During the bad days, the good ones, and everyday in between.

When you finished the season 5th in the drivers championship, the only person you wanted to celebrate with was Daniel. He was so proud of you. He watched you go from finishing 13th last year to 5th. He played a huge part in that, but when you tried to tell him that, he only brushed it off, saying that it was all you, he was just happy to be there for the ride.

It was his idea for you to test drive for McLaren at the end of the year, too. ‘We’ll get you in a real F1 car’ he said. And you didn’t question it when the offer was brought forward to participate in a few practice sessions. It was exhilarating and terrifying and you cried tears of joy when you stepped out of his car because this was what you dreamed of. Driving a Formula 1 car.

Now you just needed a permanent seat and Daniel wanted that for you too. He was your biggest supporter, and you only grew closer as the days went on.

You met his family over the holidays. He spent New Years Eve in London with you.

When the season started again, he spent more time with you and Prema. When there were no scheduled F2 races during F1 weekends, you accompanied him in the McLaren garage.

At this point, quite a few people knew you were together, or at least they assumed it.

You didn’t post about it, you didn’t want to, you didn’t need to. Daniel didn’t need to show you off, nor did you feel obligated to let everyone know you were with him. What you had was private, it was sacred, it was only for the two of you.

But of course whenever you had a good performance, whether it be from a practice session, qualifying or a race, he’d share your celebration picture to his Instagram story.

“Would you ever do a shoey?” Daniel asked you one Tuesday night, zooming in on a photo of you, more specifically on the smile on your face as you clenched your second place trophy from Imola on Sunday.

You rolled your eyes but the smile was impossible to hide as he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, tugging you into his chest.

“Next time you win,” Daniel suggested with a laugh. “I expect a shoey.”

“I’m not Australian.”

“You’re dating one, sweets.”

You never actually discussed what you were. The term boyfriend-girlfriend seemed so childish. Dating was, in a sense, accurate, but again, there were no labels. He had your heart, you had his. That was the only thing that mattered.

“The world doesn’t know that,” you pointed out.

“They kind of do,” Daniel kissed your cheek, giving your side a squeeze as he stepped aside to help you prepare dinner.

You weren’t even sure when you fell into such a domestic lifestyle but there you were, practically moved into Daniel’s place in Monaco at this point and he was at your side, chopping carrots for the salad while you prepared the chicken breasts.

“A shoey would confirm it,” you glanced up at him, but the smile on his face told you he wasn’t completely against the idea.

Daniel stepped behind you, fingers playfully pinching your waist, “Just think about it. If you don’t want to, you don’t have to. I just reckon it would be entertaining for everyone.”

He didn’t bring it up again, not even when you got third in Spain and didn’t do it. It was your first time getting a back to back podium since you started racing and of course it was something to celebrate, but the idea of a shoey made your stomach churn. You weren’t sure if you were ready for the world to know about your commitment to Daniel.

You walked a thin line, being with him. And while you enjoyed every possible minute spent with him, you knew the world was cruel. The second you officially went public, you’d lose respect in the motorsport industry.

The only female F2 driver dating an F1 driver? How scandalous.

Despite the rumours, the correct rumours, you were still in a bubble with him. You could pretend you were just friends, close friends. The tabloids had nothing to go off except your polite interactions and maybe a little too friendly smiles and so what if you were there in the McLaren garage cheering him on?

You were his biggest supporter and he was yours.

But it didn’t help that while your performance was improving, his was rapidly declining. While you had less races than his, already your stats were better. You qualified in the top 5 for the first three races. You finished second in Imola, third in Spain, already better than how you started the season last year.

Monaco was next. Daniel loved Monaco, you both did. Everyone did, it was the pinnacle of Formula 1.

It was unfortunate that your weekends ended up so drastically different.

Daniel qualified 14th and then finished 13th. He wasn’t proud of it, but he did his best to hide his disappointment for you, especially since you were starting on the front row, P2, for the feature race.

And somehow, you won.

After trailing behind Drugovich for the majority of the race, you were starting to believe you would finish behind him too. And you probably would have, had there not been a safety car almost six laps after he boxed for fresh tyres, giving you the advantage of newer tyres and less wasted time. It was a strategy your team was banking on, waiting for a safety car. It was risky, but it paid off. Overtaking was nearly impossible with Formula 1 cars, but you had a better chance in your series and somehow, by the grace of god, you did it. You pulled ahead and swiped the lead from Felipe.

You made history that weekend. The first female F2 driver to not only podium, but to win at Monaco. You gripped that first place trophy so tight your hand turned red.

Usually, F2 didn’t draw nearly as big of a crowd, but this weekend was different. Everyone was a fan of the series after that performance, a fan of you. You saw people in the crowd wearing Red Bull gear, Ferrari merch, McLaren hats, and they were all applauding you.

Of course, you were blown away by the support. Hearing your national anthem play was an incredible sound. There were tears in your eyes and your entire body was trembling, yet somehow you managed to find Daniel. Right in front, with your team.

He was so proud of you.

Despite his shitty qualifying, despite knowing he had such a low shot at earning points at his race that was in just under an hour, he was there for you. You couldn’t tell if he was cheering the loudest, or if you were just so prone to finding him in a crowd that you couldn’t process anything or anyone else.

You weren’t sure what came over you, but once you grabbed the champagne bottle, you found yourself taking your shoe off as well. As Felipe and Théo started spraying their bottles in celebration, you poured the bubbly liquid into the sole of your racing shoe and lifted it up to your lips, pointing directly at Daniel who couldn’t believe what he was watching.

It was rancid, as you figured it would. It was champagne out of a sweaty shoe, you knew it wouldn’t taste good, but it was a shoey and it was for Daniel. Felipe patted your back, laughing at your reaction and muttering something about how Daniel would get a kick out of that.

He was right, but Daniel wasn’t the only one who found it entertaining.

Your name was once again trending following the Monaco Grand Prix. Not Checo’s, even though he won the F1 race. Your name.

Not that you really cared that night. How could you care about what the internet was saying when the man you were with told you that he loved you for the first time? Nothing online mattered, not when Daniel took your face in his hands and told you he was madly in love with you. He was proud, he was happy, he was in love.

And you knew you loved him too. You had known this for a while. Monaco was just the perfect time to say it.

After going about as public as you could without physically coming out and saying you were dating the Australian driver, Monaco was the perfect place to tell him you loved him. You were on cloud 9, you were making history, you were in love.

You continued to deny, or at least ignore, the rumours that followed, still. You both did. You were in love with each other, not the whole world. Things would get complicated if you announced you were dating. You were vying for a Formula 1 seat and you wanted it without Daniels’ influence.

But at the following race in Baku you were asked similar questions.

“Your shoey last week, did that have anything to do with Daniel Ricciardo being there to cheer you on? You two have gotten pretty close in the last few months, he’s one of your mentors, isn’t he?”

You shifted your weight to one leg, wondering what the fuck kind of post-qualifying question that was. You had just completed three back to back podiums, you were on a hot streak now, starting third at this next race and the reporter only cared about what happened at the podium celebration last weekend.

“Sorry, did you have a question about this week's race?” You asked, and when he stammered over his words, you just nodded and walked away, a tight smile on your face.

Daniel’s conversation went a bit differently.

“Y/N’s shoey last week, we all saw it. Was that your influence?”

“Yeah I never thought she’d actually do it, it was sweet,” Daniel laughed. “It was great though, I happily pass the tradition onto her.”

“She’s really come along in Formula 2 since she started back in 2020, do you think she has what it takes to be Formula 1’s first full-time female driver?”

“Absolutely,” there wasn’t a shred of doubt or hesitation. He was happy to talk about you, to explain to the rest of the world why you were up and coming and should be taken seriously as a real contender for a Formula 1 seat. He probably would have continued on if his PR rep hadn’t pulled him away, reminding him of other duties.

The next few races were similar to your first ones. A couple more podiums, some outstanding qualifying sessions, more history being made. Your phone was blowing up weekly, everybody wanted to talk to you now and you knew Daniel had something to do with it. Him constantly sharing the faith he had in you did wonders for your reputation.

You might have been on top of the world, but you were well aware you were alone up there.

Daniels’ performances were anything but newsworthy. He had gotten a few points in Austria and France, but nothing to be extremely proud of, especially when he compared his 9th place finish at the Red Bull Ring to your first place podium, making it your second one this season.

He never let his disappointment for himself and McLaren stand in the way of your achievements. In fact, you didn’t often speak about the races when you were together. You were aware Daniel was having issues with the team, with Zak, with the car, but he didn’t want to weigh you down with his own problems, even though you assured him time and time again you could handle it.

Really, if Daniel had come to you with his struggles, you would have thought twice when Zak Brown approached you prior to the Hungarian Grand Prix. You probably would have slammed the door to your drivers room in his face if you knew how Daniel was being treated at McLaren.

But Daniel held his cards close to his chest while Zak laid his all out on the table.

“If a spot opened up for you,” he said, after spending the last ten minutes talking about the rich history of the team and praising your accolades. “Would you consider it?”

It wasn’t an official contract, just the start of a conversation that could lead to one.

Of course you thought of Daniel. And Lando, having grown close with him simply through Daniel.

“For 2024?” You asked, knowing both of them were set to continue driving through to at least the end of 2023.

“No,” Zak shook his head. You didn’t like how harsh his tone had turned, having no remorse for what he was about to say. “Daniel’s contract would be ending early.”

You leaned back in your chair, fingers tapping the table as you tried to recall Daniel ever telling you that he was leaving McLaren. “Is he- he wants out?”

“It’s mutual,” Zak assured you. “He knows we can’t give him the car he wants and unfortunately, he’s not delivering what we need. We had high hopes with Daniel, but the working relationship isn’t what any of us thought it would be.”

It’s mutual. Those two words was all it took to convince you that Zak Brown and Daniel had already had a conversation about this, about terminating the contract a year early.

It didn’t help that Zak brought up your test sessions in the McLaren from last year, pointing out that you had better times than Lando, even. He went on to praise what you were doing this year at Prema and said, multiple times, that you would be an asset to McLaren should you choose to go that route.

And who were you to turn that down?

A team principal of a Formula 1 team wanted to sign you. Was it unfortunate that it was Daniel’s seat? Yes, obviously this situation was less than ideal, but he wanted out. You were convinced he wanted out, that he was done with McLaren. A 45 minute conversation with Zak Brown convinced you of that.

You should have been wary when at the end of the conversation he said, “Don’t tell anyone about this, yet. You know how the public can be, let’s just keep this to ourselves for the meantime.”

“But I can talk to Dan, right?” You asked.

Zak knew you were dating Daniel, it was a little harder to hide that from his team than it was the rest of the world. Maybe that’s why hesitated before answering, knowing that keeping a secret, something as big as this, from a partner had the potential to cause chaos.

But he shook his head, “Between us, yeah?”

And you listened to him. You wanted that Formula 1 seat so of course you followed orders.

You desperately wanted to talk to Daniel about it, but you knew you couldn’t. And either he sensed that something was off, or he was dealing with his own problems again and wouldn’t share, you really couldn’t tell when the summer break started and things just seemed…different.

You didn’t go to Monaco for starters, even though Daniel invited you to. But there were so many meetings with Zak and the board at McLaren that it made more sense for you to stay in London for the start of the break.

Daniel didn’t call as often and you wanted to give him space, knowing that this break was probably needed for him. You expected he was out with friends, letting loose, getting the weight of a horrible season off his back even if just temporarily.

The plan was to go to Monaco for the last week and a half and then travel to Belgium together. You had to delay that plan, however, when Zak called you and said it was official.

The 2023 seat was yours.

You wanted to celebrate, with Daniel, but how could you celebrate with the person you were replacing?

It was strange that Daniel had said nothing to you about leaving the team during the summer break, especially since Zak had said time and time again they were on the same page, that Daniel was ready to leave. The only thing that crossed your mind was he was given strict instructions to not say anything to anyone either, at least until McLaren went public with the news.

But with it being official, with you having just signed on the dotted line, you were tired of keeping it to yourself. You may not have been able to share the news with anyone else, but you had a right to have a conversation with Daniel about it.

You didn’t know how he would react. Surely he’d be happy for you, right? You were getting a seat in Formula 1, something that both of you desperately wanted to happen. And again, you were under the impression the departure from McLaren was mutual. He would be happy that someone he loved was taking his seat, right?

Right?

You had to tell yourself that the entire ride over to his place. You unlocked the front door to his building and took the elevator up to the fourth level. You didn’t think to knock, knowing he never locked it when he was home so you pushed open the door and stepped in, your suitcase trailing behind you.

You were happy to see him. He was always a breath of fresh air, despite the odd distance between you, you still loved him. You always would. He muted whatever was playing on the screen and stood up from the couch when he heard you walk in.

Usually, Daniel would greet you with a kiss.

Usually, he’d be smiling so hard his jaw would be hurting.

Usually, he was happy to see you.

You left the suitcase by the door and met him halfway, only he stopped walking when there was about a foot of space between your bodies. To you, it felt like you were still miles apart.

“Do you have something you want to tell me?” He asked, arms crossed over his chest.

Your heart sank.

You had convinced yourself, Zak had convinced you, the whole back of house team had convinced you, that Daniel was aware of this upcoming change. That the termination was mutual. You taking his seat might have been a surprise, but it was never supposed to be a blindside.

“What do you know?” you asked.

“What do you know?” Daniel repeated the question back to you.

You were both fully aware of the exact same information. Daniel was leaving. You were taking his seat. Only, you had been informed this much earlier than he had.

“What was I supposed to do?”

“Not take the seat,” he scoffed. “My god, I mean, they’re cutting my contract early, Y/N. For you.”

“For the sake of the team,” you said and then added, “You don’t even like McLaren. You’ve struggled with this team since day one.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to stop racing.”

“McLaren is not the team for you and you know this.”

Daniel scoffed, eyebrows twitching, “Did Zak tell you to say that?”

“Zak-” you started, finding it difficult to hold his stare. This wasn’t the Daniel you knew. “-he doesn’t know I’m here. I’m not supposed to be here. I’m not supposed to talk to you or anyone about it, not until your announcement comes out.”

He rubbed his hands over his face, taking a few steps away from you. It hurt, watching as he tried to physically distance himself from you. Like being in too close of proximity would set him off.

“I struggled with the team, yes, but I’m not ready to give up racing. You have now left me without a seat.”

It was easy for Daniel to blame you, you were standing right in front of him. You were quite literally the driver set to replace him.

But the real villain was Zak, for not having opened up this line of communication earlier. For making you believe everyone was on the same page. It was Zak’s fault for rushing to end the contract with Daniel instead of putting in the effort to work with him. He saw the shiny new toy that was you, that Daniel helped create, and he wasn’t going to let someone else take it first.

Daniel wanted to blame himself too, but he wouldn’t let himself think about that until much later. He was the one who did everything he could to help you grow in this sport. He was the one who introduced you to Zak and the rest of the McLaren team. He was the one who got you in the car for the practice sessions, his car. Foreshadowing at its finest.

“You are unbelievable,” Daniel spoke quietly, heated with anger but his words were like ice as they sunk deep into you. “After everything I’ve done to help you for you to betray me like this, I just- I don’t think-”

You knew where this was going and you wanted to put a pin in it before he could finish any of his thoughts.

“Don’t finish that sentence, Daniel,” you whispered. “Please. Please, we can figure something out.”

“There’s nothing to figure out,” his mind was made up. “You took my seat.”

“Wouldn’t you rather it me than someone you don’t know? Someone you don’t trust?” You tried to turn this around, have him look at the positives, if there were any. “Daniel, everyone on the grid loves you, you’ll find a new team. One that helps you grow and get to where you want. McLaren isn’t that, we both know it.”

“I think you should go,” was his only response.

“If I hadn’t signed that contact, someone else would have,” you pointed out, grasping at straws here, painfully honest straws, but straws nonetheless. “Piastri, O’Ward…McLaren had options, Dan. Aren’t you at least happy for me that I out-qualified all of those guys?”

Daniel actually laughed, “You want me to be happy for you? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Dan-”

“Leave.”

“I’m not leaving.”

“You need to,” he was stern. He was angry. He was done. With you, with the team, with everything he used to love and cherish. He was done.

You thought you knew Daniel. You thought you knew how this conversation would play out. You figured it would still be rocky, but god you now realised how naive you were to believe you could still make things work.

“I love you,” you told him, because what else could you say except remind him that you were so hopelessly in love with him, that he was all you would ever want in life.

Except, that wasn’t exactly true, was it?

You wanted a seat in Formula 1 too. You just never thought you’d have to sacrifice one dream for the other.

Daniel’s stare was cold. He only looked away for a second to nod his head towards the door behind you, “If you loved me, you wouldn’t have done this.”

You stepped forward, desperate at this point because how could he do this? How could he throw away what you had, over a seat?

Or was it you, who had ultimately thrown away what you had when you sat down with Zak Brown all those weeks ago?

It pained you to think about the strong possibility of that being the case.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, because you were. You were sorry about how this turned out, how he was betrayed, how this was coming to an end. You grabbed hold of your suitcase and nodded, backing up towards the door, “I really am sorry, Dan.”

He didn’t believe you. Why would he? In his eyes, Formula 1 was more important to you than he was. A career decision that benefited you, but ruined him, mattered more than your relationship. It was a bold move, a cold move, one that you didn’t think would lead to this.

Neither of you could have predicted this. On September 3rd, 2020, when Daniel first said he wanted to work with you, neither of you thought it would end like this.

Just as you grabbed the handle of the door, Daniel opened his mouth, wanting to get the final word in. And you really wished he hadn’t because those final words destroyed you.

“I’ve made plenty of mistakes in my life, but I never thought you would turn out to be one of them.”

You said nothing. You walked out of that Monaco flat with your head low and your heart even lower. You couldn’t even be excited about the next season, or the remainder of this one where you had the potential to finish in the top three.

You weren't happy, you were empty, you were defeated. And painfully so, you were also still in love.

Despite what was said, you knew it would take a while to get over Daniel. He was your rock for so long, he was always there for you and even though he could disappear without so much as a second thought, your feelings couldn’t, the memories couldn’t. It would take a long time until you felt whole again.

You didn’t know it yet, but the decision to take that McLaren seat would haunt you as you moved forward in your career.

This was not going to be the last time you ever saw Daniel.

part 2 haunted

#daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo one shot #danny ric #dr3 #f1 one shot #f1 fics #formula 1 x you #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo au

2K notes · View notes

adascore · 2 months

Note

Hello! Not sure if you’re taking requests but would you consider doing an addition to TSS where young!arsenal reader was starting before Beth and Viv came back and has been benched majority of the time since (Kyra core☹️). Maybe during like the west ham game was one of the subs thrown on halfway through and after the loss made a snarky comment about “being thrown on to unfuck everything” type of thing to another teammate and Viv/beth overhear and think she’s talking about them (maybe they’re already a little insecure about losing such an “easy” game, self doubt post ACL) and things are super frosty and weird at home until one of them snaps and makes a comment about how they still wouldn’t have won even if R started. Hurt/comfort angst but with a happy ending!! Not sure if any of that strikes your fancy but I had the thought and you’re so talented:) no worries if not!!!

To Jump The Gun(ners)

pairings: arsenal x teen!reader / meadema x teen!reader / kyra cooney-cross x arsenal!reader

warnings: the west-ham match. swearing. angst. awkwardness.

author’s note: OMG LOVE THIS IDEA ! like this was right up my alley I felt like 😭 thank you so much, and I hope you enjoy the story!

masterlist

February 4, 2024 - Essex, England

It had become a routine, seeing her name and number on the bench. She took a glance at Kyra, a knowing look in her eyes.

The young Arsenal homegrown wondered where it all had gotten wrong. Well, she knew the answer, but it wasn't exactly something she could say out loud to anyone.

She was transported back to the 2022/23 season, where she would warm the bench until either Vivianne or Beth were too tired or they needed to be rested for the next match.

Their injuries had changed everything.

Y/N not only became a regular starter, but became a vital part of their game. Her absence would be noticed.

She scored the goals that got them to the semifinals of the Champions League, keeping them level with 2x champions Wolfsburg.

However, Beth and Vivianne were back now. Alessia's arrival also didn't help much, the former Manchester United player having cemented herself into the starting line-up.

It also didn't help that Jonas was not a fan of rotating. Only in specific Conti Cup matches or against what he deemed 'weaker' teams in the league would he make changes to the usual starting XI.

In other words, she was back to step 1.

That's why it was hard to watch her teammates falling 2-1 behind against West Ham, with no one seeming to find an answer or any will to turn the game around. It was a painful spectacle.

In the 63rd minute, Jonas decided to throw herself, Kyra and Cloé in the match, and take out Vivianne, Victoria and Beth. It was a desperate attempt, and the three Gunners found themselves on the pitch, tasked with the challenging mission of trying to fix everything that had gone wrong so far.

Y/N and Cloé quickly created some chances but the West Ham defense or the swift reflexes of Mackenzie Arnold saw them go in vain.

The teenager could see the expressions of her teammates on the bench, visibly frustrated with how the match had unfolded since Alessia's successful header.

Vivianne couldn't hide the discontent in her eyes as she sat with a subtle shake of her head. Her partner, sitting beside her, noticed and Beth patted her thigh, offering silent support as they continued to watch their team scramble for a late equalizer.

As the final whistle blew, the disappointment within the team was high. Y/N did her usual post-match routine, and congratulated all the West Ham players on their win, while giving and receiving solace from her own teammates.

The teen found Kyra again, someone who she had found a friendship in over the months the Australian had joined the Gunners.

''You alright?'' The midfielder asked her, a dejected tone in her voice.

Y/N nodded. ''Yeah, you?''

''Not too great, but there are worse things in life.'' Kyra responded, trying to put the loss in perspective.

''True,'' the striker agreed, ''I can't believe he keeps putting us in these positions.''

Kyra nodded. ''You think he would learn after Tottenham.'' She sighed.

''Apparently, we're not good enough to start, but when he needs us to unfuck everything that happened, then he knows who we are.'' Y/N said, her frustration evident. The unfair treatment of some players during the season lingered in the air, leaving a bitter taste after the defeat.

As the youngsters continued their conversation on their way to the locker room, Vivianne and Beth, unintentionally overhearing their discussion, exchanged puzzled glances.

''Did you hear that? 'Unfuck everything'?'' Beth repeated her housemate's words to her partner.

Vivianne's brow furrowed as she processed what was said. ''Yeah,'' the Dutchwoman breathed out, ''not very nice.'' A hint of sadness lingered in her voice. It stung that their efforts were being discussed in such terms, especially by the young girl they were living with.

They didn't say much else to one another as they strolled through the corridor.

The atmosphere in the locker room was subdued, void of any banter and entertaining chats. Most of the players were already there as the couple walked in.

Beth took a glimpse at Y/N and Kyra who still seemed in a discussion with one another, although they were whispering now.

''Girls, we're a lot better than this.'' Kim broke the ice, a neutral expression on her face.

Everyone nodded at the captain, the collective disappointment from the match was visible. ''Well, it's done, we can't change anything about it. So, everyone just do a reset, try to get some sleep or distract yourselves on the bus, and I expect everyone with fresh minds and legs at training.''

The team nodded and weakly applauded Kim's small speech.

As the team began to disperse, Y/N caught Beth's eye, offering a faint smile in greeting. However, the winger's response was noticeably strained, her usually warm demeanor replaced by a subtle tension.

"Everything okay?" The younger one ventured, her concern evident.

Beth's smile faltered slightly, her gaze flickering away before returning to meet Y/N's. "Yeah, everything's fine." She replied, though her words sounded hollow even to her own ears.

The striker's brow furrowed further, a flicker of uncertainty clouding her features. "Are you sure?" She pressed gently, not used to this awkwardness from her teammate.

"I... yeah, I'm sure." She retorted, her voice tinged with irritation.

"Okay..." Y/N trailed off, unsure of how to proceed. Sensing the dismissiveness between them, she offered a hesitant smile before turning back to where she had been talking with Lia.

As her housemate walked away, Beth's expression hardened, a pang of guilt gnawing at her conscience. She knew she shouldn't act like this towards her, but her words had really struck a nerve for some reason and it was hard to pretend it didn't.

The drive home on the bus wasn't that different, though the atmosphere was more subdued due to the loss. Y/N and Kyra were seated next to each other, Katie and Caitlin sitting on the other side of them.

''You alright, Y/N?'' Caitlin asked, noticing the youngster's quietness.

Y/N looked up, glancing away from her nails to the older Australian player. She hesitated answering, not knowing if it was appropriate to say anything about her interaction with Beth.

She sat up straight and motioned for the three of them to huddle together over the small table. They got her message and did just that.

''Did anything happen on the bench or something? Cause I had this weird exchange with Meado, and it's just stuck in my head.'' She explained, her voice hushed.

They all frowned at her words. ''No, she was just frustrated about the game, but so was everyone else.'' Caitlin responded.

''What happened?'' Katie chimed in, curious to know about this exchange.

''I don't know. She was looking at me in the locker room, and I smiled at her, but she, I don't know, just looked weird at me. I asked her if she was alright, but she was kinda distant with me? She responded a little irritated so I left her alone, but it was weird.'' Y/N gave a small summary of the interaction.

"That is strange." Kyra mused, breaking the silence that had settled over their huddle.

They nodded at her words, agreeing with the young Australian.

''I didn't notice anything.'' Caitlin said with a pout, feeling sorry she couldn't help her younger teammate out. ''Me neither, kiddo.'' Katie added, a similar expression on her face.

Y/N smiled sadly, disappointed she wasn't any wiser on Beth. Katie rubbed her arm once she noticed her dejected expression. ''Hey, I wouldn't worry about it. It's a tough loss.''

The youngster nodded at the Irishwoman's words. ''Yeah, you're right.''

Katie was not right.

As soon as she got in the car with the beloved couple it was clear that something had gone down for them to act in such a sour mood. Vivianne's knuckles were white against the steering wheel, while Beth stared out of the window, her expression unreadable.

Sensing the palpable tension, Y/N shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The youngster wanted to break the silence, but the words wouldn't come out. It felt like they were stuck in her throat.

The drive home felt like forever. Every minute made the atmosphere worse. Y/N tried to catch Vivianne or Beth's eye, hoping for some sign that things would get better, but there was nothing.

Car rides after losses were never filled with much conversation, but it had never been like this.

A wave of relief went through her as the car was parked in front of their apartment complex, longing for the comfort of her room where she could hide from whatever the situation was.

Y/N couldn't even come up with a guess on what had transpired. Did they have a fight? Did she do something? Did someone else do something?

She had absolutely no clue.

However, the tension seemed to follow them into their shared home. The silence had become even more deafening with each step they took.

Beth disappeared into her room without a word, while Vivianne headed straight for the kitchen, her movements stiff and mechanical. Y/N stood in the hallway, feeling like an outsider in her own home.

Their behaviors made her feel anxious, feeling that knot inside her stomach. What had happened during the game? What had caused them to retreat into themselves like this?

Unable to handle any of it longer, Y/N tentatively approached the Dutchwoman in the kitchen. "Um, Viv?" She began, her voice small.

Vivianne glanced up, her expression guarded. "Yeah?” She replied, accent heavy.

The younger girl hesitated, unsure of how to broach the subject. "I, uh, did, uh, something happen at the game?" She stammered, her words stumbling over each other in her haste to get everything out.

The striker's eyebrows furrowed. "What are you talking about?” She asked, her face neutral.

Her response only added to the youngest one's confusion. It seemed as though they were both dancing around a subject neither wanted to address.

"I-I just... noticed things were a bit off between everyone after the match," Y/N explained, her voice barely above a whisper, "and, well, the car ride home was... a bit weird, you know.”

Vivianne's expression softened slightly, though her guard remained up. ''Don't worry about it. Just… frustration from the game.''

But Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it than just frustration. She wanted to press further, but the fear of causing further conflict held her back.

Instead, she offered a hesitant nod. ''Okay, good.'' She murmured to the floor, retreating back to her room with a heavy heart.

The Arsenal homegrown player pulled her phone out of her pocket, searching up Kyra's contact. It only took a few rings for the Australian to pick up, she was probably already on her phone as she was called.

''Hey.'' Her accent momentarily bringing a smile to Y/N's face.

''Hey, you're home?''

''Yeah, just arrived. What's up?''

There was a brief pause before Y/N continued. ''Things have gotten a bit weirder since, uh, on the bus.''

''Shit. What happened?'' She asked, her voice filled with genuine worry.

''It's just... the tension at home is almost suffocating," she explained, ''it was completely silent the entire time we were driving home, and when we got home, Beth immediately went to her room. I tried to ask Viv about, but she told me it was just frustrations, but it clearly is not just that.''

There was a moment of silence as Kyra processed Y/N's words. "That doesn't sound good," she finally replied, ''you really have no idea what might have happened? Maybe they had a fight or something?''

Y/N shook her head, even though her teammate couldn't see it. "No, that's the thing. I'm completely lost." She admitted, frustration lacing her words.

''Same. I wish I knew what to say to help.'' Kyra said softly.

''It's alright, Ky. Thanks for letting me ramble.'' Y/N chuckled, appreciating the opportunity to unload her worries onto her friend.

''It's fine, honestly. It must not be fun to be in this situation,'' the Matilda replied, feeling for her friend, ''if anything else happens you can always let me know, okay? I'm gonna have some dinner now.''

Y/N smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Ky. I really appreciate it.”

''Anytime. Take care, I'll see you at training.''

''You too. Bye, bye.'' They bid each other goodbye before hanging up the phone.

Y/N prepared to leave her room again, wanting to check if Vivianne had started dinner yet or not.

Just as she stepped into the hallway, she nearly collided with Beth, who was coming out of her room with a tight-lipped expression. The sudden encounter caught them both off guard.

''Shit, sorry.'' The younger one apologized first, giving her housemate an awkward glance.

''It's alright,'' Beth brushed off, ''uh, were you on the phone just now?" She asked, her brow furrowing slightly.

Y/N nodded. ''Uh, yeah, with Kyra.''

Beth's expression shifted, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her features. "Oh, Kyra." She murmured, her voice tight.

The younger girl simply stared at the winger, not knowing what to say to her words. "Is everything okay?" Y/N ventured, her voice hesitant as she searched Beth's face for any sign of what might be bothering her.

Beth's lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, she seemed lost in thought. When she finally spoke, her words were tinged with a hint of irritation. ''Everything's alright.''

Y/N offered a small, uneasy smile and nodded. "Oh, okay." She said, though her words felt hollow even to her own ears.

With a nod of acknowledgment, Beth turned to walk away. As she watched Beth disappear around the corner, she wondered if it had been something she had done. However, she couldn't recall saying or doing anything that day that would have provoked this kind of demeanor from the couple.

The young striker walked into the living room, noticing Vivianne bustling about in the kitchen. But what caught Y/N's attention was the hushed whispers exchanged between the couple, Beth and Vivianne not being subtle about their gossiping.

A sense of discomfort washed over the youngster as she hesitated in the doorway, unsure whether to interrupt or retreat unnoticed. But before she could make a decision, the Dutchwoman glanced up and caught her eye, her expression inscrutable.

''Hey, dinner is almost ready. Just some leftover pasta from yesterday.'' She informed Y/N, her tone somewhat forced as she attempted to maintain a facade of normalcy.

Y/N forced a smile. ''Nice, thanks, Viv.'' She answered, trying to ignore the awkwardness that hung in the air.

She retreated to the couch, feeling as if she wasn't welcome in the small space. Something was off, and she couldn't help but feel like she was on the outside looking in.

She scrolled on her phone for a few minutes before Vivianne called her to the table as the food was ready. As they gathered around the dinner table, the atmosphere remained strained, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

Vivianne served up the leftover pasta, her movements brisk as she avoided making eye contact with anyone. Beth sat across from Y/N, her expression unreadable as she picked at her food.

Y/N tried to focus on her food, but the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach made it difficult to swallow.

For a few moments, the only sound was the clinking of forks against plates, the silence punctuated only by the occasional awkward cough or clearing of throat.

Finally, unable to bear the tension any longer, Y/N opened her mouth. "So, um, what did you guys think about the match?'' She asked the pair, her voice coming out more high than she had intended.

As if on cue, Vivianne and Beth glanced up from their plates at the same time.

''It was tough, but it shouldn't have been tough. We lacked a clear tactic.'' The experienced striker answered, filling up the silence.

Y/N nodded, relieved at least one of them responded to her attempt at conversation. She took a peek at Beth, who did not seem amused in the slightest to talk about the surprising defeat earlier that day.

''It was just another match of us fucking everything up, and you kids having to unfuck it all.'' Beth said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

The youngest's eyes widened slightly at the cutting remark, not expecting those words to come out of the Brit's mouth.

Vivianne shifted uncomfortably in her seat, casting a quick glance at Y/N before fixing her gaze on her partner. "Beth, that's enough.'' Her voice was stern, warning Beth that this was not the way to go about this.

But Beth ignored her girlfriend, her eyes fixed on Y/N with an intensity that made her squirm. ''No, she needs to learn to not talk about teammates that way, especially the ones that have just gotten back from serious injuries, and need time to reintegrate into the group.''

Y/N felt a flush of embarrassment creeping up her neck, she cast a desperate look at Vivianne, silently pleading for her to intervene and diffuse the situation before it escalated any further.

''Beth, I wasn't-''

''You weren't what? You weren't talking shit to Kyra about us right after the match? You weren't talking shit about us to Kyra on the phone just now?'' The oldest continued in an accusing tone.

Vivianne let out a sigh, her frustration evident as she attempted to defuse the situation. ''Beth.'' She said firmly, her gaze shifting between the two other people at the table.

''I wasn't talking shit about you guys. I would never do that.'' Y/N managed to let out, offended at the mere idea of her not appreciating the two women who'd let her move in with them a 1,5 years ago.

''Y/N, we heard you. On the pitch after the match, with Kyra.'' Beth responded bluntly.

Y/N swallowed hard, slightly ashamed of being caught. ''We were just... we were just frustrated, okay? That comment wasn't directed at any of you guys, it was more at Jonas, to be fair.''

The couple grew silent at the admission, realizing they had greatly misunderstood the two young girls' conversation. ''About Jonas?'' Vivianne repeated, her voice carrying a note of embarrassment.

The young striker nodded. ''Yeah, me and Kyra have just been a bit upset with our game time, that's all. It felt like a repeat of the Tottenham game.''

Beth and Vivianne exchanged a glance, coming to a silent understanding. ''We're sorry for jumping the gun on that one, darling. We really thought we needed to teach you some manners.'' The Brit nervously apologized with a chuckle.

''It's alright, we probably should've been a bit more discreet.'' Y/N brushed her apology off with a hand gesture.

''No, you two are in your full right to complain.'' Vivianne retorted, agreeing on the playing time matter.

The teenager waited a few moments before elaborating. ''I don't mind sitting on the bench, it's great to get rest, you know? But it almost feels like he doesn't trust me to get the game starting or something. I like to think I did great last season, so this kind of sucks.'' She opened up, not having voiced these thoughts to anyone but Kyra.

''You did amazing last season, you stepped up when we needed someone and the team will never forget that.'' Beth smiled, squeezing the youngster' s hand.

''It seems that Jonas forgot.'' Y/N muttered bitterly, looking down at her empty plate.

The couple silenced themselves at her mumbled words, not knowing what the appropriate response would be to cheer her up about the situation. They were indirectly responsible for the young girl to not get as much game time anymore, so whatever they would tell her, she would most likely not feel much better afterwards.

''Just focus on what you're doing right now. Show up to training, recover well, maximize everything in the minutes you do get. Show him that he should trust you to start, and that you deserve to have that spot in the line-up.'' Vivianne chimed in, her voice soft but resolute.

Y/N nodded at the older woman's words, though her demeanor still seemed dejected. ''Yeah, I'll continue to do that.'' It came out somewhat passive aggressive.

''I know it doesn't fix the situation, but you're my personal star girl, regardless whether you play or not.'' Beth softly smiled at her.

The teen managed to crack a small smile back, appreciating the sentiment. ''Thanks, Beth.''

''You're mine too.'' Vivianne added.

''Hey, that's my compliment for her! Find another one if you want to be cute!'' Beth scolded her partner, dramatically feigning annoyance.

The Dutchwoman frowned. ''Everyone calls her ‘star girl'! You're not original either!'' She pouted back.

Y/N couldn't help but let out a chuckle at the banter between the couple, happily accepting the momentary distraction from her frustrations.

Beth playfully rolled her eyes. ''At least I'm complimenting her!''

''Sorry that I was just giving useful advice, Bethany.'' Vivianne retorted.

''Useful.'' The Brit repeated, her voice heavily tinged with sarcasm.

Vivianne's mouth gaped, pretending to be offended. ''It was useful! That's what I would have wanted to hear at 19 year-old.'' She defended herself.

''19 year-old's want to hear praise, Viv. They want to be called star girls, not receive a lecture.'' Beth quickly replied, with a smirk.

''Y/N, it was useful, right?'' The older striker turned towards the teenager.

''Yeah, Y/N, tell Miss Miedema how useful her advice was.'' Beth chorused her words, grinning from ear-to-ear.

The youngster simply glanced between the two of them, before picking up her empty plate and standing up from her seat. ''I'm taking this as my sign to leave.''

She ignored their pleas with a satisfied grin, making her way to the kitchen to dump her plate, and walking back to her room.

The couple watched her depart, sharing a knowing look, a hint of amusement dancing in their eyes. ''She's gonna call Kyra, isn't she?'' Vivianne chuckled.

''She so is.'' Beth agreed with a laugh.

requests are always welcome!

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal x reader #woso imagine #woso fic #beth mead x reader #vivianne miedema x reader #kyra cooney cross x reader #meadema

546 notes · View notes

consoledacup · 12 days

Text

In order to fully understand Colin's reaction to the Lady Whistledown reveal and how he processes everything moving forward, you have to think about the entire season, the entire series really, through his point of view. I have no problems with the part 1/2 split. It made the anticipation that much more intense, and it worked out perfectly with their love story. But you can't separate one part from the other when you're thinking about his character.

In Colin's mind, the end of episode 4 is his happily ever after. That's it. He did it. He took action. He was the Cupid to her Psyche and played god and rescued her from a loveless match. He made shit happen and told her how he felt and they shared that moment in the carriage, and he gleefully proposed. He saved the girl and got the girl, and what a remarkable, enchanting, beautiful girl she is.

And aside from Eloise and Cressida, everyone's obsessed with their relationship. They're the true love match with a great story, and how lucky he is to fall in love with his best friend. And she's showing hints of unease, but maybe that's just wedding jitters. Or maybe she's mourning her relationship with Eloise which is why he keeps trying to get them to make up. Or maybe she doesn't feel as secure with him as she would've with Debling, even though she'd never tell him that. He is the third son after all. And he still has no idea how in love with him she is.

So when she tells him how she's always loved him, he's warmed but also wracked with guilt. Because if he had only taken his stupid head out of his ass, he would've figured out why her letters meant so much to him or why he was eager to participate in an investment with her family or why her lack of response the past summer devastated him. He thought he was the instigator of their love. He's the one who laid himself bare and was like, is it possible you feel a fraction of what I feel for you? And to find out that she did always love him made him feel so undeserving. Because why would this exquisite siren still want anything to do with him after all that he put her through?

There is an incredible scene that I think deserves a lot more gravitas. The minute Penelope mourns Lady Whistledown and burns her issues, it cuts to Colin getting over his writer's block as he writes with great enthusiasm. It's like, he's unknowingly siphoning her power. He is Cupid and a writer and her protector and her provider and so madly in love. And he will finish his manuscript, and he will make things right with Penelope and Eloise. And he and Penelope will have the perfect life together.

And then everything he thought he knew about Penelope, about friendship, about love, is completely shattered. She rips his power from him, and he is absolutely gutted. She has been the mastermind this entire time, and he was none the wiser. And what part of their love story was even real? At which point was he manipulated into doing what she wanted him to do? And while he was helping her with her confidence, and telling her how changed of an individual he was, she not only saw through him but broadcasted his insecurities to the entire ton?

He's still so desperately in love that he remains steadfast in marrying her. But he cannot get over his fury and hurt and betrayal at that point. Which makes so much sense. It's painful to see him lash out and withdraw from her, but he's absolutely reeling.

And on top of all that, he is humiliated. He thinks about everything she said about his own writing. She told him how he made it seem effortless, which is such a great compliment. And he's like, I don't want you to edit my manuscript because I want to prove to you that I'm worthy of you. And he might be thinking, I can even give her some pointers for her own writing! What fun we'll have with more lessons. To find out that she's the talented, sharpest, most prolific writer in the ton fully emasculates him. He feels like she was patronizing him all along.

He brings that part up, and she's like, no, I meant everything I said about your writing. But he doesn't believe her and immediately switches the conversation to her dangerous predicament, so he can at least, at the very least, offer himself up as her protector. It worked before when he danced with Penelope after Cressida ruined her dress, when he rescued Marina from Rutledge, when he helped save Daphne's reputation, when he saved Penelope's family from Cousin Jack, when he helped save Will's business, when he kissed Penelope, when he saved her from the balloon, when he defended her to her mother... If he can't be the provider, he can be the protector. And she doesn't even want that from him. She's the knight in shining armor. She's Don Quixote. Not him. Never him.

So he is grappling with his role in their union. He figures it out, but it takes him a little bit to get there. And in the process, he not only remains in love with Penelope the entire time, but he also falls head over heels for Lady Whistledown.

#bridgerton #colin bridgerton #polin #diamond of the first water #an affair of honor #off to the races #harmony #the viscount who loved me #out of the shadows #how bright the moon #forces of nature #old friends #tick tock #romancing mister bridgerton #joining of hands #into the light

306 notes · View notes

microclown · 11 months

Text

I think, not everyone, but a lot of the people who are so hung up on the kiss aren’t thinking about it within the context of the narrative.

I probably won’t articulate this well, but the whole plot of season 2 felt like a direct, meta-y response to us, the fans, and our desire see Aziraphale and Crowley’s relationship progress to something more.

Neil had established in the first season, they are already in love, so what is it really then that we want see? What is it that’s missing? That leaves us feeling unsatisfied?

What does love mean to you? What would it mean to Aziraphale and Crowley? What does a loving relationship look like, and how does one get there?

The methods Crowley and Aziraphale use to get Maggie and Nina together are common romance tropes in fiction. Crowley says “one fabulous kiss and we’re good!”

But rainstorms and dancing didn’t make Maggie and Nina fall in love. They were going to get there on their own, eventually, after a lot of open communication and working on their own personal growth.

And “one fabulous kiss” won’t give us a happy ending. It won’t give us what we’re missing from Aziraphale’s and Crowley’s relationship. We as fans like to think that’s all we want, but is it really? Because the love is there! What we’re truly missing has more to do with internal growth and healing, communication, and working towards a true understanding of each other.

And I think that’s what we’ll get in season 3! I don’t know if we’ll get another kiss although I would love to see one but we will get a satisfactory resolution between two beings who are deeply in love.

As a side note, I don’t want to down play how fucking important it was to have them kiss on screen. As someone who has grown up watching queer coded relationships on screen and is exhausted from having everyone involved queerbait, or even outright ridicule their fans for seeing it that way, it is so refreshing to have a very visual, undeniable, romantic gesture. Because I know it really does take a kiss for some people *cough* my parents *cough* to see a relationship as anything but platonic. I’m so glad we got that undeniable validation before what I can only expect is going to be an epic third chapter!

#good omens #go 2 #good omens 2 #good omens season 2 #ineffable husbands #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x arizaphale #neil gaiman #crowley #aziraphale #good omens fanfiction #good omens analysis #good omens kiss

2K notes · View notes

prettiestgrlinthemorguexo · 5 months

Note

fic where baker reader and lucifer both really like each other but are too scared to admit their feelings so reader makes him a cupcake with a frosting duck on top as a surprise

Sweet duckcakes ( Lucifer Morningstar x Baker! Reader)

Thank you for the request anonymous! This is such a cute idea myself!!! Feel free to leave more request

Idk why but I feel like Lucifer would love the duck cake from Bluey.

I legit accidentally deleted this half way through writing it, I could cry

NOT PROOF READ!!

Warnings: stealing my baker reader stuff on how they started working in the hotel from my last fic, season 2 headcanon

⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧ ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧ ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧

No ones POV:

Y/N has been working in the Hazbin hotel since day one, only then it was called ‘Happy Hotel’ Charlie employed them to be the head chef, prepare meals of staff and residents. It also meant Y/N could stay rent free so they accepted. Only then, back when it was only them, Charlie, Vaggie and the only resident, Angel dust. But as time has past, the Hotel has become more lively. Alastor, Husk and Nifty join the staff and another resident named Sir Pentious.

Even though Y/N was happy to see Charlie’s dreamed come true, but with each new person in the hotel mean more and more food to make, they were almost nearly in the kitchen all the time but they didn’t mind.

With the extermination looming closer, Charlie had no choice but to call her dad for help. Y/N was happy to know he accepted to come, To prepare for his visit Charlie asked Y/N to bake for his visit, which they happily did. They quickly run into the kitchen with Nifty following behind, she wanted to make cookies. Y/N and Nifty baked away, while nifty worked on cookies, Y/N chose cupcakes!

Nifty finshed first and ran into the main room while they stay behind so they could decorate the cupcakes. After 30 minutes they were done and they took them to the main room. As they turned the corner they see a rather weird sight…Alastor and Lucifer is a battle on who’s the better father. Y/N kinda stood there watching the two with everyone else till they were interrupted by someone named Mimsy, this finally allowed them to meet Lucifer.

“Dad, this Y/N, our head chef!” Charlie moves her dad over to them and they give a sweet smile to him. “It’s nice to finally meet you your majesty.”, as they said this they moved their tray to one hand and extended their now free hand, they took notice of Lucifer’s small blush. He took your hand, Y/N couldn’t help but notice his soft hands, “please call me Lucifer.” He said to you with a smile. “Why thank you..” they said to him as they remembered the treats. “Oh!” They said mainly to themself, they hold out the tray. “Please take one I made these for your visit.”

Lucifer took the treat in his hand looking over it, it had red frosting with a little apple slice in it. “Why thank you.” Lucifer said as he took one of the frosted treat and took a bite of it. He eyes life up as he tasted it. “This is amazing!” He said as he ate, Y/N couldn’t help but feel their heart race as this words. “They’re’s a reason they are the head chef! Now to the rest of the hotel,” Charlie continued to speak and show off the hotel. Y/N place the tray down on the nearby table and as they turn they couldn’t help but notice his eyes on them, they blushed and felt their own heart race.

Little did they know that was only the beginning. After his eventful visit, where him and Charlie both agreed to make an effort, he was in the hotel more. While he spent time with his daughter he always saw Y/N, he was great company to have, always so sweet. It was hard to admit they had growing feeling for him, how could they? He was her bosses father and the king of hell.

It only became worst after the hotel was destroyed and was rebuilt, during the process of rebuilding it, Lucifer moved in. Though Y/N believed it would be a blessing in disguise. You guys were frequently hanging out together, he was always so sweet, he loved to help cook and back with you. Y/N was very thankful for that considering how many more people were not in the hotel, but, this only has their feeling grow more…both their feelings. Lucifer would be lying if he said he didn’t like Y/N they were a dove…the light in the dark.

There were many nights they work yourself too hard and feel alseep in the kitchen only to wake up on one of the couches with a blanket they recognized…it belong to Lucifer. Each time they wanted to keep it, it smelled just like him, but, each time they returned it. They leave it folded with a nice little note. Lucifer loved the notes keeping them in a box, he also sleeps with each blanket, he smell of your are your perfume is intoxicating.

Though pretty much everyone was aware of both their feelings for each other neither would admit it, so in fashion of the residents of the hotel, they decided to help by dropping small (rather obvious) hints, though Charlie was the most discreet about her hints, mainly at hinting at things to you both like, similar interests you things both like. One thing Y/N took of something from Charlie’s and from Lucifer himself…he seem to really love ducks, from gifting them rubber ducks and leaving rubber ducks around the hotel.

One night after making up on the couch with a certain blanket on them, they had to thank him and a perfect idea came into their head. They Return the blanket back with another note, Y/N quickly made their way into the kitchen, ready to bake their morning away for Lucifer’s surprise.

TIME SKIP

Lucifer woke up to the sound of soft knocking, he recognized this knock, it was Y/N’s. He quickly shot up out of his bed running to the door. He nearly swung open the door to see your face, what a perfect thing to make up to, “good morning do-“ Lucifer stopped mid sentence noticing a gray with a cover in their hands, he looked back up at their E/C eyes. “What’s that?” He asked curiously. Y/N could help but smile he looked so handsome after waking up. (He wears duckie pajamas.) “may I come in?” Y/N asked happily, Lucifer blushed softly and nodded his head moving out of the way of the door “o-of course come in!”

Y/N walked in admiring his room, it was so elegant looking, they then turned to face him “I want to say thank you for always taking care of me, not leaving me to sleep in the kitchen floor means a lot to me, so, I want to say thank you.” They said as they placed the tray down on the dresser. “And I know you love ducks so..” Y/N them wiped off the cover revealing 6 cupcakes! Not just any cupcakes, they were Vanilla cupcakes with yellow frosting and on top were little ducks made of frosting. Lucifer looked wides eyed at them, before look at their smiling face. “You made these for me?” He asked softly.

“Of course!” They said happily, you’ve always helped me out and you mean a lot to me..” Lucifer stay quiet before quickly hugging them tight. “Thank you Y/N..” he said softly, the hug caught Y/N by surprise but they quickly hugged back a soft blush on their face. “Anything for you..”

Tag list

@reverse-soe @kazurami14 @netheris @musicb33nsstuff @rainycloud858 @yaimlight @erissco @aarkhamkknight @pooplyface1423 @purplethree @dog55teeth

#x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar x you #lucifer morningstar #fanfic

632 notes · View notes

clairegregoryau · 8 months

Text

Through the Looking Glass

From fairytale in Season 1 to stark reality in Season 2 of Our Flag Means Death- meta ported across from this Twitter thread by popular demand!

This thread contains spoilers for the entirety of OFMD Season 2

First OFMD S1 rewatch since S2, and holy shit, if you haven't done that yet... do that. A thing that it made instantly clear: they told us *all along* where this was going, but there was a reason we didn't see it. Because we were living in Stede's world then. Now it's Ed's.

I know that a lot of us have felt that the tone shift at the end of S2 was... jarring, compared to what's come before. This felt like a show that wouldn't go there. One where being run through was a temporary hiccup. We've travelled all the way from this to this.

But we haven't jumped there without a journey in between. And from the minute we started hearing about Blackbeard, the show never tried to hide what Ed's world and his specific life was like. Not once. In fact they told us over and over and over.

But Season 1 told us a lot of those things through song and story and fuckery. It blended reality with fiction.

Stede met the Blackbeard he knew through books and tall tales, and the real man was even more wonderful than he'd imagined.

We, along with Stede, were comfortable thinking that all those other tales were exaggerations and misrepresentations, and a lot of them very likely were.

The Ed Stede got to know was a person who was capable of whimsy and silliness and loved soft things and doing something weird. Yep, he was also capable of violence and rage, but when he was with Stede, he didn't feel it so much.

This was a vacation from that life.

To Stede he was absolutely lovely... oh, and also a bloodthirsty killer. And Stede loved (and loves) everything about him, and both of those things can be true. This is a perfect example of a spot where (in watching Season 1 without the benefit of hindsight) I assumed that everyone else in that pub was wrong, and Stede was simply trying to protect Ed's fearsome reputation by agreeing on the bloodthirsty bits. And I think from Stede's perspective that was largely true. I think that's how they wanted us to see Ed, through his eyes. Now, after watching both seasons, I think it wasn't the whole picture.

They told us, we heard it, we saw glimpses of it. But we (and Ed) were in Stede's run-away-to-sea fairytale the whole time. It wasn't until Stede left that we saw the reality- the Ed we knew had been, to a degree, a fictional character all along. I always saw this scene as Ed putting a bit of distance between himself and reality; it always felt like the Blackbeard of Stede's storybooks was the fictional one. But now it feels like the softer Ed that Stede knew was much the same- neither of them the whole story of who Ed was and is.

The one person who refused to live in Stede's fairytale was Izzy. I've seen people say it before, but he always gave off that vibe of the only human in the Muppets movie, or the guy who was in Black Sails while everyone else was in Pirates of the Caribbean. He saw the real risks clearly.

And in that light, the end of S1 has shifted an inch to the left for me, and I'm seeing it at a slightly different angle.

Izzy ripped away the healing Ed was doing, but in some respects he did it by tearing away the fairytale we'd all been living in, shoving Ed back into the Blackbeard story.

And that's where we pick up again in Season 2.

The fairytale reference came back in S2 in two notable places, those being Jim carrying that legacy forward in the darkest times, and in Izzy invoking the wooden boy against Ricky's efforts. Stede's made himself into a real boy. Ricky, nope.

Now that I've watched both seasons together, the tone shift doesn't feel so jarring at all, actually.

It feels like sliding through the looking glass, out of Stede's world, and into Ed's- a world that existed all along; we were just seeing it, la vie en rose, through Stede's eyes.

At the beginning of S2, Stede's gone, and we're seeing it unfiltered through Ed's reality.

But Stede wasn't lying when he said he loved everything about Ed. He made a promise to come back and find him- he went down into Ed's darkest place and reminded him that no matter how bad things got, there WAS someone waiting for him, ready to love him.

The contrast between S1's fantasy and S2's reality (excluding mermaids and actual bird guys and cursed coats) is stark, but it really is that.

We have the same settings, the same people, and very different ideas and outcomes at different times.

But it was always there.

Things do come back to a state of (precarious) balance once they're all together. Apologies are made, whether they're spoken out loud or through actions. Things go right, things go wrong. Healing happens. Izzy continues to have the steadiest, most real through-line in the story as he tracks toward redemption, finds acceptance, and to an extent finds himself.

Once again, I hate that they went here with the ending and I wish they hadn't. But it got a fraction easier for me looking at it not as a continuation of Stede's fairytale, but of the grounded-in-pirate-reality arc Izzy was always on, even while we lived in Stede's world.

Where does that leave us? We're not going back to the fairytale, but we're not going to be living in Black Sails for S3, either. We've hit a fusion point where S1 ended with each of them going to separate, miserable homes, but S2 ended with them in the same place, ready and willing to make a go of it.

Season 3 is going to give us their world, together.

I LOVED the moments in this season where the deep emotions were in balance with the silliness I've always adored about this show. Eps4-6 were wonderful like that. Clearly we're not done with drama, either, but like Ed and Stede, I think we'll find a middle ground.

Anyway in conclusion, a rewatch of S1 after S2 somehow made me love the first season even more, which felt impossible? It's now gained /even more/ layers of depth than it had before. No matter how you feel about S2 I think it's worth that rewatch.

Adding one more bit of clarity for myself: I think we got a bit (intentionally) seduced in S1 by the idea that the Ed of the storybooks, the Vampire Viking Clown with the nine guns, was a version of him that others saw, when Stede saw the REAL person who 'worked' for Blackbeard.

In hindsight I think it's clear the Ed Stede go to know was also not the complete version of himself- the reality is, there's a whole spectrum between the two, and they've landed in the middle of it now. Ed intentionally leaned into the unlovable Kraken image to protect himself.

It very much didn't work, just like being just... Edward hadn't worked to protect himself, either. This season has been very much about pulling those two extremes together and finding all the parts that make up Ed overall (another thread on that here on Twitter, which I'll also shift across to Tumblr soon!)

And I think one of my favourite things in S2 has been seeing the way Stede SEES that- he knows what Ed's done, everyone's told him, but he still loves Ed. sees his trauma and how it affects him, and believes he's a good man regardless. He IS lovable; he's not forever broken.

And together, they can heal.

#ofmd #our flag means death #gay pirates #ofmd meta #unreliable narrators #fantasy vs reality #ofmd spoilers #ofmd s2 spoilers

623 notes · View notes

daisynik7 · 7 months

Text

Fortunate

cw: ~900 words, established relationship, fluff, happy ending, some angst, implied Season 2/Shibuya arc spoilers, smut (but very brief) - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Author’s Note: This is for @honeybleed's 90s r&b collab, congrats again on the amazing milestone! This is inspired by the song Fortunate by Maxwell. Thanks for reading! Divider by @/cafekitsune.

Nanami wakes up in the cold sweat, gasping for breath to fill his lungs, as if he’s been drowning in his sleep. His heart races, pounding so hard against his chest that he’s sure it’s about to burst out of his ribcage. The entire left side of his body tingles, the remnants of a traumatic injury from almost a year ago.

It takes him a few seconds to realize that you’re holding him, clinging to his right side, staring at him with concern in your face. “Bad dream?” you ask, eyes wet with tears you try to blink away. Your voice trembles, attempting to hide it, though Nanami can still tell.

He recalls the moment from right before he woke up. He was engulfed by fire, every inch of his skin scorching from the flames, gradually burning him away. Flashes of memories and familiar faces played out like a montage in a movie. Gojo’s cocky smirk, Yuji’s eager expression, Haibara’s bright smile. What you wore on your first date, how soft your hand felt in his the first time he held you, the song the two of you danced to the first time he said, “I love you.” Breakfast every morning at the dining table, mid-afternoon naps on the couch, making love until the two of you fall asleep in each other’s arms.

No matter how many times he relives it in his sleep or how vividly he remembers the pain from that night in Shibuya, nothing will ever hurt worse than that split second into the afterlife, when he was sure he’d never see you again. How lucky he is to be able to say that never came true.

He walked through fire, fought through hell, dug out of his own grave, all that to return to you. And he’d do it again and again and again. How fortunate he is that he doesn’t have to anymore. It’s one of the biggest perks of being a retired Jujutsu Sorcerer.

He shifts in the bed to face you, breathing steady now. “Absolute nightmare,” he says, giving you a half smile.

You swallow hard, brushing away strands of blonde hair to wipe off the perspiration beading on his forehead. “Well, you’re awake now.”

His smile grows into a full one as he scoots closer, nuzzling his nose to yours. “Thank god for that.”

You wrap your arms around him, squeezing him tight. “You’re still shaking. Pretty bad, huh?”

He closes his eyes, cherishing this feeling of being surrounded in your warmth. “Yeah.”

“The same?”

“Yeah,” he repeats, not elaborating. You already know what he dreams about. The nights you stayed up with him as he twisted himself into the blankets, tossing and turning from the fight that still weighs heavily on his mind. He doesn’t know what he’d do if you weren’t there beside him, to comfort and console him back to sleep. He wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for you.

You take his face into your hands, cupping his cheeks tenderly. The skin on his left side is taut from his injuries, which have healed nicely since that incident. You trace his scars, marveling at how beautiful he is. Evidence that he’s alive. What’s more beautiful than that? Closing the gap, you kiss him softly on the lips. His hands slide around your back, pulling you in deeper.

Sometimes, words aren’t enough to put each other back to sleep. On a night like this, with only the glow of the full moon barely peeking through the shutters and the even rhythm of your heartbeats filling the quiet space between you, it’s only right to melt into one another.

His thumbs hook to the waistband of your pajamas, pulling them past your bottom, now exposed for him. He squeezes your flesh in his firm grip, using little strength to roll you on top of him. He loves it like this. Something about having your body on top of his makes him feel safe. Secure. You trail along his neck, kissing his scars, whispering, “I love you,” into his skin. He relaxes into the pillows, letting you worship his tattered body, the same way you would as before. You never treated him like a broken man after the horrors of Shibuya. Instead, you’re a constant reminder that’s he’s in one piece.

Slowly, with no rush to fall back asleep, you undress each other. He twitches slightly as you palm his erection, craving more than your fist. You don’t make him wait long, reaching for the nightstand to retrieve the bottle lube to properly coat him. Straddling his lap, you guide him inside you until you are stretched perfectly around his cock. You stay still for a moment, relishing the sensation of being completely full of him. “I love you,” he says, cradling you as you begin to rock back and forth. You kiss lazily, taking the time to savor each other.

After you’re finished and cleaned up, you’re both back on the verge of sleep. You nestle into his broad chest, listening to his heartbeat to ease you into a peaceful slumber. Before you’re gone, you whisper, “We’re so lucky, aren’t we, Kento?”

He smiles, placing a delicate kiss to your forehead, snuggling you tighter. “You have no idea.”

#nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami smut #nanami x you #nanami fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x you #nanami kento fluff #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami smut #kento nanami x you #kento nanami #kento nanami fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut

572 notes · View notes

diana-rose-25 · 8 months

Text

— Let's Dance

PART 1

STYLE INSPIRATION

pairing/s: BEBE! Bada Lee x Jam Republic! Reader x Wolf'Lo! Chocol

warnings: None so far, an unrealistic description of being an exchange foreign student, might confuse some words in ballet (as most of them are only through research and not based on experience).

description: A professional ballet dancer in Street Woman Fighter Season 2? (Y/N) Bae, a 23-year-old ballerina and dance prodigy enters the fighting arena alongside the infamously known crew, Jam Republic. Making the team's aura and presence far more intimidating despite being clad in soft pink and white clothing, adorned with astonished faces and friendly smiles. As the young woman entered the arena with curious eyes and small smile, the other teams couldn't help but awe at her beauty and elegant aura, unknowingly capturing the eyes of two charismatic dancers.

status: unedited

word count: 4.5k

"They're the last one to enter."

"This crew is intimidating."

These are just some of the comments circulating around the arena as they waited for the last and final crew to come out.

"It's amazing that JAM REPUBLIC is here," Akanen, Tsubakill's leader, stated in awe. Looking at the empty space where the last crew of the show have yet to enter the small arena.

A certain buzz was felt in the air as the other contestants waited for the anticipated arrival of JAM REPUBLIC. More notably, they were excited to meet the celebrity of all dancers, Kirsten Dodgen.

"We'll see Kirsten in person," Biggy stated admiringly.

Dancers expressed their love and admiration for the pink crew's leader and her arrival. One member from Deep N' Dap even stated that she cried when Kirsten cancelled on her classes due to visa issues after she signed up for all four of her classes. Her leader, Mina Myoung, promptly scolded her. Stating firmly that "this is a serious competition." Despite this, two of her members joked around, lifting up the atmosphere that turned heavy just before.

The longer the dancers wait, the more nervous and excited they get to finally meet the members of the crew.

"Wah, Kirsten is here," Yeni, a member of Wolf'Lo stated. The said woman bounced a little on her seat, the adrenaline rush pumping into very veins so fast she could barely contain it.

"Hey," she perked up, turning to Baby Sleek as she remembered something important.

"Hey Baby Sleek, is it true that (Y/N) was once your student?" Her question caused all the members to look at their oldest curiously and for confirmation.

A fond smile crossed Baby Sleek's face as she shrugged her shoulder. "Yeah," she confirms making her members awe and shout in disbelief as she rarely takes in students. "She was for a short while. (Y/N) trained under me for more or less than three years." The other crew turned to Wolf'Lo when they heard the commotion, curious to know what made them react in such a way.

"Wow, what was she like?" Haechi questioned. "Is she really that pretty in real life?"

Baby Sleek nodded, "when I first met her, I was so shocked at how pretty that kid is. I thought she was an idol. In my mind I was like, what the hell? How can this kid be so pretty at her age?" The members laughed at the whiny tone of her voice.

"But putting her looks aside, (Y/N) really is a monster at dance. A natural. At first, I was hesitant at her skills since she is more focused on the ballet genre, but after a few lessons, the girl was a beast. As if she was dancing hip-hop since she could walk! Of course, there were times where she would struggle with something, but her dedication and hard work pushed her through it all. It was really admirable."

The other members were floored at the high regards and compliments Baby Sleek showered you in. Suddenly feeling much more intimidated by the crew that isn't even present yet. Yeni, Haechi, and Halo nodded for the respect they felt for the Jam Republic member while Chocol and Mini sat rigidly in their seat.

"Yah, I'm starting to regret picking her as my No Respect Dancer," Mini laughed nervously before faking a cry and shoving her hands to cover her face. "Why didn't you say that before we pick the weakest dancers?!" She whined.

"They're not even here yet calm down," Chocol said, patting Mini on the shoulder in a mock comfort. "Have confidence, we can probably give her a good fight and win at the end of the day."

Halo and Baby Sleek giggle at the antics of their members and nodded encouragingly.

"Aya, don't mind. The both of you probably have more freestyle and dance battle experience than her. Don't doubt your capabilities now," Halo, their leader, commented while patting their heads.

"Right. Be confident, but keep your guard up. We saw her list of accomplishments before, so let's be prepared." Baby Sleek said seriously, shaking her hands a little to expel the nerves of the upcoming competition as her mind slowly shifts into battle mode.

〜⁠(⁠꒪⁠꒳⁠꒪⁠)⁠〜〜⁠(⁠꒪⁠꒳⁠꒪⁠)⁠〜〜⁠(⁠꒪⁠꒳⁠꒪⁠)⁠〜

Meanwhile, the pink crew of Jam Republic waited patiently for their cue to enter the arena in their given room.

(Y/N) tapped her hands against her thighs repeatedly. "I'm so excited and nervous at the same time."

Her members giggled at her but also felt the same energy as her. Ling, who sat next to her on her right, held her right hand to squeeze it gently for a few times.

"Me too. But don't worry, we got this." (Y/N) smiled at her as she intertwined their fingers together and squeezed her hand back.

"You'll be fine girl, we got your back." Latrice said, smilingly comfortingly at her as she sat next to Emma who gave you a nod and a finger heart to which you giggled.

Audrey, who sat next to her, leaned her head against her shoulder and looped her arm around her. "Yeah, calm down and let's just have fun! There's nothing to worry about." (Y/N) smiled fondly at the youngest member of the group, patting her knee in gratitude.

"I mean come on," Kirsten said, clapping her hands out of excitement and to hype her fellow members up, "this is us we're talking about!"

"Okay, okay, okay!" (Y/N) shouted, now pumped and excited, "Let's do this!" The girls laughed at her sudden mood change and hyped each other up even more. Even though some of them just met a couple of days ago, they were now starting to form a bond with each other. She smiled at the sight before her, feeling the warmth that bloomed in her chest, leaning back on the couch to compose herself.

The moment (Y/N) closed her eyes and took a deep breath, the TV screen came to life, signaling to their crew that it was time to enter the arena. The Jam Republic girls simultaneously yelled in surprise and excitement. Feeling gittery, Kirsten stood up and the rest of the girls followed her lead.

"Okay guys, are we ready?" She asked.

The members giggled a positive response albeit the nervous, quiet laughter that accompanied it as they form a circle.

"Shall we do this?" Kristen asked, placing a hand in front and the members followed one-by-one. "Entrance is going to be fire, three, two, one, wee!"

"Wee!" They followed along, laughing and giggling as they exited their room and walked towards the arena.

"Let's dance!"

The group walked down the narrow hallway of the building. Audrey clinging to (Y/N)'s arm and squeezing her hand gently with a bright smile on her face. She couldn't help but find the youngest so adorable! The dimples on her cheeks made (Y/N) want to pinch her cheeks really hard.

She then gestured to Emma who was falling behind a little, signaling her to walk beside them. Once she fell on step with (Y/N) and Audrey, the former girl wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Which was quite easy as the ballet dancer was noticeably the tallest amongst them (in her crew at least). The girls stated their excitement as they walked, feeling the nerves and adrenaline creep in.

Kirsten walked in front of them, leading the crew around the place until she momentarily stopped at the entrance.

"Ooooohhhh!" she cooed, placing both hands on the sides of the opening as she marveled at the sight before her.

"Holy damn!" Ling exclaimed once she saw how huge the room is. As they walked, they couldn't help but look around in amazement, eyes sparkling and hearts beating.

"Wow! This is so exciting!" Latrice and Audrey commented. (Y/N) giggled at them, enjoying their reactions that made her feel less conscious and nervous.

She'll be seeing her old teacher again, and she can't wait for it. After all these years, (Y/N) wanted to prove to Baby Sleek that all her training had not been in vain.

As soon as the other teams heard them, almost all of them perked up in their seat and looked up towards the stairs where they'll enter shortly.

"Oh, they're coming," Yoonji, a member of Mannequeen said in an excited tone.

"Wah, we'll be seeing them soon omg," Yeni clapped her hands lightly. Looking at the stairs in anticipation for the awaited group.

"You'll see your protegee soon Baby Sleek after all these years," Halo nudged her, "how are you feeling?"

"I think I might cry once I see her," Baby Sleek's answer made the members giggle fondly at her before cooing at the sight of her face. She looks like a mother waiting for her daughter to come home after all these years.

It wasn't long before the figure of Kirsten made her way down the stairs followed closely by the other members. The rest of the crew gasped in shock as soon as they saw her.

"Welcome to Korea!" A girl stated as the girls descended slowly down the stairs.

While descending, (Y/N) holds onto the railing of the stairs to look around the room to find her former mentor, taking advantage of the height to seek her out. She was so focused on finding her that she failed to see the looks of shock and awestruck faces of the other teams as soon as she turned around. Her eyes met Baby Sleek's, a bright grin soon adorned her face once they made eye contact and an excited giggle escaped her lips.

Unbeknownst to her, a certain dancer on the same team as her former mentor was blown away the moment she set eyes on you.

"Wow..." She whispered breathlessly, keeping her eyes on you.

Once the girls adorned in pink, white, and black clothing landed on the bottom of the stairs, they were once again looking around in astonishment and bowing to the people around while the others made comments about them.

"Wah, look at Kirsten's figure. It reminds me of Gabee."

"Their aura is so intimidating."

"Omo, Audrey is really pretty."

"She looks like a doll."

The team closest to them, BEBE, stared at Audrey in awe.

"Why is she so pretty?" Bada commented in awe, leaning back slightly in her seat while Tatter looked at her in wonder. "She looks like Anne Hathaway." She commented.

"I can't see (Y/N)," Lusher whined. The girl had her back facing the blue team making them unable to see her face. "I didn't see her clearly just now."

"Oh my god is that (Y/N)?!" The mentioned girl and her team almost jumped in shock at the loud voice that called out to her. They turn around to find a girl standing with a shock expression complete with a hand to her mouth as she stares at the girl she yelled for. Jam Republic laughed loudly and clapped their hands.

(Y/N) giggled and covered the bottom half of her flushed face. "Hello, nice to meet you." She said in fluent Korean and bowed down to the girl that was still standing.

Harimu, a member of 1 Million and her team yelled in surprise yet again, causing another laughter to roar out from Jam Republic.

"How can someone be that beautiful?!" Harimu yelled aloud, causing laughter to erupt from the room as she whined and stomped her foot to the ground in a faux tantrum manner.

Feeling even more flustered (Y/N) turned to hide her blushing face, fanning it down to compose herself but accidentally made eye contact with one of the hottest and trendiest choreographers today, Bada Lee.

So pretty, (Y/N) thought.

She regained her composure and grinned at the girl who was now staring at her with wide eyes and an agape mouth.

"Hello, nice to meet you all," she greeted the team, forcing herself to look away from Bada's eyes to bow down at every member of BEBE.

"Omo!" Lusher yelled, grabbing onto Kyma's hand, who was sitting beside her in shock. "Oh my god!" The rest of the team could only stare in shock at the woman still smiling, all of them shared similar looks of shock and admiration.

(Y/N) gave them one last smile and a bow before returning to her team, choosing to stand behind along with Audrey.

"Did you see her?"

"Oh my god her visuals are out of this world."

"My god, have you seen her height? She could be a VS model."

"Or those cliché movies about princesses."

"Bada-unnie," Tatter called out to her, giggling once she saw the still awestruck look on Bada's face, her gaze still trained and focused on (Y/N). "Our leader is still in a starstruck trance everyone."

"Looks like someone has a crush~," Minah teased, poking the shoulder of her leader with her pointer finger.

Bada snapped her gaze away once she heard the teasing tones of her team members and light shoves on her shoulder. She groaned and hid her flushed face away.

"Shut up!" Bada's voice came out muffled but the others still heard it loud and clear.

"Wah, she's a young woman now," Halo looked at Baby Sleek who commented in a soft voice. Despite the fond smile that painted her face, tears began to well up in her eyes. The leader chuckled softly and wrapped her arm around her for a side hug, rubbing her hand up and down her shoulder.

Chocol stared.

Even though (Y/N)'s back was facing them, she stared. Taking note of her poise, the way she stands and holds herself. Shoulders back and standing tall, petite that of a standard ballerina but somehow oozes that aura of regal elegance. Wow, Chocol thought. She's like some sort of royalty.

The large screen above suddenly made a noise, effectively catching the attention of Jam Republic and everyone else.

"Oooh," (Y/N) said, holding onto Audrey's hand when the younger one sought hers out. "Evaluation time."

Jam Repuiblic stood in front of it, anxiously awaiting the thougts, opinions, and evaluation of them by other crews with a smile on their face. Although (Y/N) nervous, she had a feeling that most of these aren't going to be friendly since this is a competition show. They need something for drama after all.

"The strong point of Jam Republic is the fact that they've been on the great stage. We can't ignore this."

(Y/N) smiled at the sweet comment, though, that didn't last long.

"All the members of Jam Republic think that they're number 1. Everyone wants to be the main dancer. Can they really be united?" Ah, there it is.

(Y/N) subtely side-eyed Akanen who commented on the video. She has respect for the dancer and leader of Tsubakill, admires her even, but she can't help but smirk towards her. She understands her point, but it still wasn't enough to hide that but of irritation towards her comment. Akanen, who was looking at Jam Republic when her comment was shown, gulped when she made eye-contact with (Y/N) and swiftly looked away.

"Wah, she didn't like that comment." Momo commented when she saw the three second interaction of the dancers.

"I know, I'm suddenly scared," Tsubakill giggled quietly at Akanen.

The next few comments of the evaluation targeted Kirsten and her affiliation with the world renowned crew, The Royal Family. (Y/N) titled her head in confusion when a dancer tried to insult Kirsten by looking for Paris Goebel instead of her.

"They do know you're one of the key members for a reason right?" She nudged at her leader, leaning down to whisper in her ear. Kirsten just nodded and smiled in response with her eye glued to the screen in front.

"A fake Royal Family?" (Y/N) couldn't help but gasped humourly at the harsh comment.

If that wasn't enough, the next comments are targeting Audrey. (Y/N) felt the younger girl squeeze her hand; she turned to look at her face to find the girl trying to keep a small smile despite the harsh criticisms thrown her way.

"She looks like an amateur dancer. The skills of a baby dancer."

"Audrey is a pretty doll. As she's a pretty doll, standing and doing nothing would be enough."

"Oh my gosh," the taller girl clicked her tongue in annoyance towards the comments. Are they really doubting her skills because she's young and pretty? "That's a shallow critic."

Jam Republic giggled in shock when those words came out of her mouth. The other teams, on the other hand, looked at her face nervously. The happy and excited face of the tallest Jam Republic member, now, still has a small smile; but eyes devoid of any emotion.

"She looks like she's seething with rage right now." Bada commented, leaning forward with clasped hands, resting her elbows on her knees whilst keeping her gaze on the girl in pink.

"She's like an older sister who wants to fight the bully of her younger sister," Tatter said, the rest of the crew agreed with her after taking a swift glance before looking back at the screen.

"(Y/N) is another pretty face," ah, there goes the comments about her. The mentioned girl straightened her back and inhaled deeply. Mentally preparing herself to receive the harsh comments thrown at her.

"(Y/N) is a professional ballerina who had performed on broadways before and competed in ballet genre on competitions. I don't think some people realize how hard it is to compete in ballet and make it look so easy. I really have so much respect for her." The said girl couldn't help but bow in gratitude at the praise she received from a member of Mannequeen, Cera.

"Thank you so much," she whispered. Audrey grinned brightly at her and nudged her teasingly.

"(Y/N) is a ballerina, right? And a pretty one at that. She could stand on pointe all day and stand on a music box, let it spin her around, and people would appreciate her dancing."

"I honestly don't think she could perform well in any other type of genre since her main focus is on ballet."

"Yeah, like a one trick pony."

The gasps could be heard echoing throughout the room after the comment. (Y/N)'s and her team members' jaw dropped in shock, "ouch, that hurts."

The former girl clutched her chest in exaggeration and pretended to lose her balance. Audrey held on to her and laughed at her dramatic antics.

The room suddenly erupted in shock when the screen showed how many No Respct stickers each Jam Reublic member will receive. Above showed their names in huge, bold, and bright fonts their name and the results:

Kristen - 2

Latrice - 0

Ling - 1

Emma - 1

(Y/N) - 4

Audrey - 6

An overwhelming amount of people chose Audrey as their No Respect Dancer. The youngest member of Jam Republic cheered and held her thumbs up in the air, whilst (Y/N) just clapped slowly with a smile, still looking at the results.

4 No Respect Dancer stickers might not be much compared to Audrey. However, the message was still loud and clear that there are people who are doubting her as a dancer.

"Okay, okay," she said, turning to Audrey as she held up a hand, "let's show them what we've got." The two girls high-fived each other with matching grins.

As they made their way to their designated seats. (Y/N) made eye contact with Baby Sleek. She grinned towards her and gave a small wave, bowing down in greeting towards Wolf'Lo who sat beside them.

(Y/N) sat at the top of the seat with her back straight, a trait she acquired after it was conditioned in her body. She was still quite frustrated at the one trick comment she received. She clicked her tongue in frustration and puffed her cheeks, inhaling and exhaling deeply through her nose.

"You okay?" Kirsten asked and patted her thigh.

"Yeah," she nodded - albeit partly lying. "Don't worry, Audrey and I will make sure they'll eat their words after they see us dance."

Audrey shot her finger guns with a wink, "that's right mama!"

She laughed at her adorableness and pinched her cheeks. Inhaling deeply one last time, she forced herself to relax and remember that it's all part of the show. (Y/N) gathered her hair all together in her hands and placed them behind her back when she heard a sound of awe.

Startled, the girl turned her head to the side. Staring at her was a woman with bright red hair that it almost looks orange. She thought it suited her very well and loves the boyish look the other woman adorned.

Chocol flushed furiously when her eyes suddenly met (Y/N)'s. One moment, she was admiring her side profile, then the next, she's looking into her eyes. She gasped as she placed a hand on her mouth and bowed deeply.

"Nice to meet you! I didn't mean to stare, I'm sorry!"

(Y/N) giggled and bowed to her as well, waving her hand dismissively at the poor woman whose head was still bowing down. "Nice to meet you too! And don't worry, it's fine, thank you!" She grinned with a blush on her face.

Haechi laughed at her flustered team member, garnering second-hand embarrassment from her. Both of their teams turned their attention to the commotion behind them and laughed at the flustered state their two members are in.

"Look at Chocol's face! It's almost the same color as a tomato," Buckey commented as she watched their interaction. Mannequeen giggled in amusement.

Wolf'Lo seemed intimidating when they first arrived. Now, one of their members are left in a flustered mess against a member of Jam Republic.

"I guess even Chocol couldn't resist (Y/N)'s charm." Redlic commented.

Once the commotion died down (there's still a red hue across Chocol's face), the room cheered once again once the judges were introduced: Shin Monika, Son Hyun-woo (Shownu), and the guest judge; Mike Song.

After the introduction, all the crews were instructed to return to their hideout rooms to change and prepare for their first mission: No Respect Battle.

Jam Republic debriefed about their evaluation after they've changed as they waited for their cue to return back to the arena. The members lounged comfortably at the couch while Audrey was left standing to voice out her frustrations.

"It's like, you can't even see my face! It's the shoulders! They're focusing on my shoulders!" She laughed in frustration.

"I know! They see one video of you doing markings, and suddenly, they deemed you as the worst dancer!" (Y/N) replied, leaning against Ling as she hugs the plush bunny tightly.

There's a visible frown etched upon Audrey's face. She understands her frustrations and sadness that the youngest might be feeling right now. So, she stands up and makes her way towards her. (Y/N) placed her hands on her shoulders as she bends her knees to be on Audrey's eye level.

"What they said about you isn't a reflection of all the hard work and dedication you've put into your craft. Don't let their comments get into your head too much. They don't know what you bring into the table."

(Y/N) tilted her chin up with her finger when Audrey smiled at her. "Chin up, darling. Show them what you've got. "

Back in the arena, the tension in the air thickened. Dancers stretched and prepared for the upcoming battle; the first bettle and mission of the season. Everyone wants the win for themselves; everyone wants to prove themselves and the stregths of their team.

Jam Republic conversed to themselves as they stretched. (Y/N) was in middle spilts as she conversed with Emma and Latrice.

"Who do you want to battle (Y/N)," Emma asked as she stretches her shoulders.

"Oh, definitely Cera of Mannequeen." She answered instantly before standing up. "We have the most similar style out of everyone, and I love her power and charisma when she battles. She's so cool."

(Y/N) was about to add onto her comment when she saw BEBE enter the arena, more specifically, their leader. Bada came into her view dressed in oversized clothing and a cap in her head, almost covering her eyes. Her outfit and confidence boosted her charisma, which left (Y/N) speechless.

Bada took a sip of her drink before scanning around the room. Initially, she did this to scout out her competition when she met the wide eyes of a certain member of the pink team.

(Y/N) chocked in her saliva in shock when their eyes met. She immediately turned her head and buried her face in her hands.

"What's happening to you?" Latrice laughed at the girl, taking note of her red ears. She looks at the direction the latter girl was looking at and grinned teasingly. She patted Emma's hand to direct her attention to the tall woman who was staring at their member.

Bada was still staring at (Y/N) with a smirk on her face. She chuckled lowly when she saw how the girl became flustered under her gaze.

"Cute," she commented before taking a seat. Mentally forming a plan to make herself acquainted with the girl after the camera's stop rolling for the day.

"What did you say?" Tatter asked when her leader muttered something inaudible.

"Nothing. Dont worry about it." Bada patted the blonde's head. Tatter was confused at the giddy mood her leader was in but ultimately dropped it for the time being.

Back with Jam Republic, Latrice and Emma share an amused look on their faces as they watch (Y/N) fan her face.

"What?" The girl asked, knowing full well what it is about.

"Nothing," they replied simultaneously. She narrowed her eyes at them and pouted her lips.

"Stop teasing her guys," Kirsten commented. "Let her focus on her stretching. Otherwise, she might focus all her attention on a certain blue team member." The rest of the team burst out laughing. (Y/N) flushed even more as she glared at Kirsten. The leader looked back at her with an innocent smile and fluttering eyes in faux innocence in response.

"Whatever," she muttered before standing tall to prepare herself to position herself into an arabesque.

"Still can't get over how flexible you are," Emma commented. Watching her effortlessly pull the move.

(Y/N) hummed in response before inhaling, feeling the deep stretch on her core, back, and legs. She always loved the feeling of deep stretches. It's like letting your breathe after a long day. She held the pose for as long as she could before she exhaled and released her leg.

"Woah, she's so flexible," Redy stated as she watched the girl pull the move. Harimu and her had been observing her for quite a while now. Lia, their leader, watched them in amusement before glancing at who they're looking at.

"Hey, stop that and focus on the mission," she scolded them.

It wasn't long before Kang Daniel, the host of the season, welcomed them back and introduced the rules of the mission. (Y/N) bounced her feet in anticipation and wiggled her shoulders.

Mind and body ready for the fight that's about to begin.

tag list:@luvjanexx @b1ackbunny @thedevilisrory @kaaylvst @badagf @aestrelle19 @leo-dragon @efyyylee @smoooore @infinite1sblog @xiakiyama @watamotee33 @tnu-ree @hallotherenicetomettyou @skuuzae

note: italized names can't be tagged. I'm sorry 😭😭😭

next part>>>

#bada lee x y/n #bada lee x reader #bada x reader #swf2 x reader #kirsten dodgen #swf2 #bada lee #chocol x reader #chocol #jo kayoung x reader #jo kayoung #kayoung x reader #street woman fighter 2 x reader #street woman fighter 2

527 notes · View notes

dejwrld · 2 months

Text

ʚ₊˚‧ ✿ no distractions, ushijima wakatoshi x black fem reader / nsfw + mdni

┊ •° ੈ ⋆° ┊ warning readers discretion is advised — black reader with descriptors, her/she pronouns, female anatomy described, established relationship (reader & ushijima are engaged), just some thoughts, quick drabble, mentions of reader being an influencer, nicknames (reader calls ushijima bear), alluding to smut but it ain't long just a paragraph or two, mentions unprotected intercourse, unedited, consider this a sorry for how long it's taking me to drop part 2 of marry you

He understood why Coach Susaku decided to rent out a traditional Japanese home for some of the players. Most likely to keep a close eye on some of them to ensure they make it to practice on time, keep their heads screwed on correctly before the season comes, and have no distractions.

He wasn't the one prone to break rules, especially with the start of the season so soon (in three days to be exact)—but he just missed her so much that he couldn't resist. A hot shower and an eager you up text later, he's guiding her in the darkness attempting to make as little sound as possible. Which he was sure was impossible because he weighed in at a whopping one hundred and ninety-nine pounds of muscle and was over six feet tall. Moving around stealthily even if he tried was going to be a challenge.

He wanted to mentally curse himself for switching rooms with Kageyama because he wouldn’t have to worry about going up the stairs. His original room was right down from the kitchen, closer to the back entrance of the house that was connected to the way of the hot springs. So here a 6’3, Ushijima was tip toeing up stairs the best he could so he can get to his room upstairs.

When him and his girlfriend finally made it to his room, he finally let out a sigh of relief. The first hardest thing he did tonight was done and he had to only worry about sneaking her back out before everyone else woke up the following morning. His muscular toned thighs can already feel the burn of the laps his coach was going to make him take if he found out he snuck his fiancé in a home where no distractions was allowed.

She was his distraction. He couldn’t help that he was strolling on social media and saw her post from earlier and his body got warm all over. He couldn’t help that he missed his girl. His true love. His other half. The two of them being so busy with their schedules by time they settled in bed, they’re snuggled up together or on their sides of the bed sleeping. Now that he was on the road, it felt like they were drifting apart. Not in a bad way, but more-so a way where their careers had them on a nonstop roller coaster. If he wasn’t away for a game, she was at a brand event in London. If she wasn’t at a brand event, he was training and practicing for a game.

“My bear is breaking the rules for little ole’ me. I feel flattered that he’s risking the most gruesome workout punishment for me.” Y/N giggles lowly while gently placing her sandals on the floor. She discarded them at the door to make the journey up here a little easier for the both of them.

Wakatoshi always cringes when she calls him that, but his cheeks always mask the cringe look he gives us by staining a rose pink color every time it rolls off her tongue. A silly nickname she gave him when they made their first red carpet debut. Quote on quote because of how big and stoic he was when they first met.

“Shh.” He brought his finger to his lips. “Not too loud. Hirugami’s room right across from mine.” He warns her before he’s sliding his white t-shirt off his upper half to get comfortable on the futon below him.

Y/N who came over here in just leggings and one of Wakatoshi’s worn out sweatshirts would nod and begin to slide her leggings off her legs. Ushijima felt like a horn dog for even looking, but who could blame him? They haven’t had sex in weeks. But he didn’t invite her over and possibly broke a house rule for that. He just missed her. Plus, he slept ten times better when she was in close proximity of him.

He climbed under the duvet first before she followed snuggling close to him. The warmth of her body forced Wakatoshi to swallow the harden lump that formed in his throat. His fingers running comforting circles on her body. They’re breathing practically in sync with the crickets that chirped outside.

“How the hell am I going to sneak out of here tomorrow?” She asks quietly.

“Just have to wake up early before everyone else does.” He responds placing a kiss at the crown of her head. The scent of her coconut scented conditioner engulfed his nose in a good way. A comforting way.

He had known she must have rushed over here because she didn’t bring her scarf for her hair. She simply just came with herself and her tote bag.

“I’m not much of a morning person, but perhaps that’s the consequence of sneaking in here.” She snuggles closer to him and lets out a satisfied sigh after bringing her leg to intertwined with his. Her foot teasingly rubbing up and down his calves.

“Baby.”

“Hm?”

“Don’t hm me, you know what you’re doing.”

“I can’t cuddle with my favorite bear.” She says

“Stop with the feet thing,” Wakatoshi warns.

“Fine. But can I get a goodnight kiss before we go to sleep?”

Even in the darkness of the room, he can tell she’s poking her full lips out at his words. She came over here with intentions to rile him up in some type of way. While he thought they was simply going to cuddle and fall asleep, she had something else slithering up her sleeve. She wanted him, which of course made sense. Her texts within him being away oozed with need of him. With how busy they were they simply helped the need with FaceTime calls and invisible ink videos. he still remembered the voice note of her sultry voice moaning out his name while she toyed with her pussy.

So, he's giving her what she wanted. Large hand bridging at the nap of her neck and tugging her into a kiss. He missed the feeling of her lips on his. Soft, delicate, kissable. It always made him feel like he was on cloud nine—laying on the softest clouds, receiving the softest kisses from an angel above.

When the two of them get started, you never can stop them. Wakatoshi knew this. One little kiss turns into making out. Making out trembles to him being in between her stretch-marks decorated thighs. Here he was rubbing his hardened cock on her clothed folds teasing her until her panties stuck upon her pussy lips. Soon he was on top of her, deep inside of her as her teeth bite at his broad shoulders to muffle her moans.

For some reason, through the harsh bites from her—he thought it was so hot. The thought of her poorly attempting to be quiet so they won't get caught. But as soon as he pumped forward one last time, her head fell back into the pillow to let out a dragged-out moan that Ushijima quickly muffled with his hand.

"Are you trying to get us caught, hm?" Ushijima questions through inaudible grunts, his words hitting the shell of her ear and sending a chill down her spine.

When Ushijima looked into her eyes, he saw a glint in her eyes that he'd seen many times. She always had this thing where she challenged him—he has grown to notice she does it so he fuck her a little more harder. Nibble a bit harsher on her skin. Kiss more passionately. The woman was going to drive him insane.

"Fine then.." was the last thing Ushijima Wakatoshi mumbled under breathless pants before hooking her thighs under his strong arms.

His coach said no distractions and he fumbled not even the first day in. But he couldn't help himself, he had such a beautiful girlfriend that he just had to be near her when they did have time. If he had to endure the most tiresome practice drills, he would take that risk, especially for her.

Days when the season started, Ushijima Wakatoshi was forced to run laps until he could remember the last fifty brands Y/N collaborated with all because Nicollas Romero let it slip out in front of their coach that Ushijima had his girlfriend over.

#ushijima wakatoshi smut #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #hq smut #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu smut #female reader #black reader #ushijima wakatoshi x black reader #hq x black reader #haikyuu x black reader #⊹˳⁺ ♡ 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝒻𝒾𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

315 notes · View notes

waltricia · 2 months

Text

Bridgerton season 2 episode 3, “A Bee in Your Bonnet” is ✨magic✨ and let me tell you why.

For those of us who didn’t read the book and knew nothing of what was going to happen, we truly went on an incredible and surprising roller coaster of an experience.

We start the episode with seeing the guy from Hellboy and being like ‘oh yay, it’s the guy from Hellboy!’

… only for him to die three minutes later. And that scene is rough. It’s sudden and abrasive. And the sounds are jarring. The death is scored by tense strings. Then a moment of quiet. Then the AMAZING Ruth Gemmell begins taking us on Violet’s traumatic grief journey, which starts with her jolting Anthony (and us) out of the quiet.

And a thunderous heartbeat threatens him as he walks toward this entirely altered, unwanted life path. And that’s obviously the beginning of his PTSD.

In the other flashbacks throughout the episode, we continue to hear horrific, heart-rending pain radiate out of Violet while Anthony must not only attempt to endure it, but cover his own grief. Anthony and his siblings (and again, we the audience) all have to listen to Violet grieve while she’s giving birth! Screams on top of screams.

And the last flashback is technically quiet, but just as devastating because, like the moment of Edmund’s death, the quiet is weaponized. It signifies the death inside Violet.

It should go without saying that Jonathan Bailey is also a brilliant actor, but I’ll say it now anyway. Damn, he good! He and Ruth partnered perfectly in this grief journey. Serious props to them both because I felt this shit.

And then finally we come to the end. We had been immersed in the horrible aftermath of that striking tragedy. Between the flashbacks- in the present day- we had followed Anthony through the rooms and grounds where he had suffered silently. We had seen Edmund’s grave. We had learned that Anthony’s greatest fears and insecurities all stemmed from that tragic event ten years prior.

And then another fucking bee comes along.

And I swear to god, the first time I watched this, when Kate got stung, my heart was pounding, I was terrified, and my instinctive reaction was “oh my god, is she going to die?!” In hindsight, it’s obviously insane to think that she would be killed off at all, let alone in this scene. But the very fact that, for a moment, that was a legitimate fear I had is exactly why this episode is so god damn brilliant. I felt what Anthony felt. And I’m not the only one! I’ve seen other people’s similar reactions to this scene. The episode really is a roller coaster; easy, lighthearted moments (pall mall, drug tea), interspersed with the terrifying drops and loops that are Anthony’s painful memories which constantly haunt him. And then it brought us right back to that first traumatic moment. Because Anthony has PTSD! And that’s what PTSD does. Anthony is right back where he was, literally not far from the same spot outside Aubrey Hall, standing in front of a person he loves, watching them get stung by a bee on almost the same spot on their body. The tense string scoring comes back and Anthony panics because he’s completely helpless again.

And all of those elements- the setting, the scoring, the acting- combined to terrify us and make us forget something critical: most people don’t die from beestings.

And here’s where it gets really profound for me. Because it’s not just about how we feel Anthony’s fear. It’s also about how Kate completely obliterates it. Without knowing that history and without realizing the full extent of what her actions would mean, she does exactly the right thing. Rather than die and rather than also panic or shy away from his vulnerability, she meets it with her own in the form of care and steady assurance, which is true strength. And in so doing, she stops this cyclical moment in its tracks and completely alters the trauma. She puts his hand on her heart, and the heartbeat comes back. But this time, it’s not threatening. It’s inviting.

And just like in the first scene, the moment is over all too quickly. Just like in that scene, Anthony is thrust onto a new path. But where that moment was damaging, this one is healing. And we feel that too. And it’s the greatest experience that art can give us.

It’s catharsis.

And that’s why this episode is magic. 🐝✨

#this ep is the reason i’m insane about this show #i love a cathartic experience #please watch it and really listen bc the sound mixing is so important #a bee in your bonnet #kanthony #anthony bridgerton #kate bridgerton #kate sharma #violet bridgerton #edmund bridgerton #bridgerton #2x03 #netflix #ruth gemmell #jonathan bailey #simone ashley #rupert evans #obsessive bridgerton things

227 notes · View notes

violetrainbow412-blog · 1 year

Text

Dressing for revenge [K. B]

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader

word count: 7k

summary: when Kaz and his crows return from Ravka they run into trouble, and to solve it, he looks for a childhood friend who is too resentful and too in love with him

warnings: trauma, PTSD, spoilers for S&B season 2, no physical contact, here Kaz has no romantic feelings for Inej

A/N: I LOVE Kanej, but I wanted to write something with Kazzle Dazzle because I love him too, lol. I hope you like it!

taglist (who I thought might be interested): @rustyyyyspoonz

The rumor had already spread throughout the Barrel: “Kaz Brekker and his crows are back” How long had it been since they had embarked into the Fold? Just a couple of months? They had felt like years, if you were being honest.

If it was true that they were back, you felt sorry for the trouble they were going to run into. The change of ownership of their club, the strengthening of the other gangs, and mainly the fact that they were being tried for murder thanks to the fact that Pekka Rollins had awarded it to them... all these problems were going to fall on them like a bucket of water cold. It had already fallen on them, in fact, since the rumor was accompanied that they had escaped from the stadwatch once they were captured.

You didn't know how much of what everyone was saying was true and how much was false, trying to stay as calm as possible when the name Kaz came from someone's lips for fear that Pekka had some magical ability and could read your mind or sense the fear in your eyes every time you met him. Afraid of him and afraid of what he might do to you if he knew you knew the black-haired man.

Things had changed a lot since the last time you saw the boy and that was more than noticeable. Your story goes back long before he made his reputation when you were just a couple of neighbor kids playing on the farms. You two arrived in Ketterdam together, with nothing but hopes for a better future and Jordie as your protector (or an attempt at that, at least), after your father and Mr. Rietveld died in the same accident, reuniting with Kaz’s mother and later to be matched by your mother, who had died of sadness, if that was possible. Three helpless children thrown into the cruel world were what came of that and the rest is history.

Crime, robbery, gangs, and a life of hardship were what you had to adjust to as a child, but you doubted very much that a single person living in The Barrel would be in a different situation. You weren't fully involved in the disgraced jobs of the majority, but if there was one true thing, it was that when it came to obtaining information you were, to say the least, excellent. You and Kaz had to fend for yourselves, and you learned what you could from the streets. In this way he and you became a team, so to speak, for a few teenage years, and for that period of your lives having each other was the only thing in the world. Over time he became ruthless, rude, a great fighter and earned the nickname 'dirtyhands' thanks to his gambling skills, from which he obtained most of the things you had. You learned to move quickly, to go unnoticed, and to defend yourself from those who tried to harm you, always supporting the boy’s plans.

Less than a year was enough for his name to become known and he began to think big. Sometimes he would tell you about the plans he had: to run Fifth Harbor, to establish the crow club, to become the best of The Barrel. All of that sounded like crazy ideas at first, but looking back you realized that he had accomplished too much in that pit for your relatively young age.

You never knew what made you and Kaz go their separate ways, but somehow it had happened. It was gradual, maybe that's why it was hard for you to notice, but one day you woke up and realized the distance that existed between him, who previously was practically the only family you knew, and you. It didn't take much for him to decide to break the bond that had held you together from a very early age; he never gave reasons for this and you never asked him.

You lived under some protection from the leader of The Crows, of course, but very few people could link you to The Bastard of the Barrel. Sometimes you still provided him with information, but when he found someone else, the inquiries became less and less frequent until one day they turned into none. You managed to eat and have a roof over your head pretty well (and mostly honestly) and you tried to stay out of trouble for a long time.

Until one day he flew away from Ketterdam without warning and order in the Barrel was disturbed in every possible way. With his team gone, it didn't take long for Pekka to seize control and anyone who didn't work for him was inevitably against him. It was only a matter of time before he found out the talent you had tried to hide and forced you to carry his lion shield... figuratively speaking.

If he ever knew that you used to work with Kaz he never mentioned it or maybe your relationship with him had been severed so long that no one remembered it anymore. Now you were just a little girl, as he used to call you, slippery enough that she seemed so harmless that, in his eyes, that became a benefit. You were never one to look rude, unfortunately for you, and that allowed men like him to feel entitled to take advantage of you. You thanked the saints that Rollins didn't find you attractive or who knows what other services he would have requested from you. It was always better to provide him with the information he needed than for him to force you to be his lover.

You weren't a part of the meetings that the Dime Lions had and you weren't considered a member either, which kept you calm every night. You were just another piece in the enormous chess game that Pekka moved at his convenience, the same game that was threatened by the mere existence of Kaz Brekker and much more so now that he had returned.

In the middle of the night it was logical to ask yourself, what kind of strange plans would he have in mind now?

One, two, and three knocks surprised you at the rickety wooden door and made you jump out of your chair, where you were already asleep. An old lamp was on the even older table and it illuminated the little space that your provisional home had so you took it to approach to open the door. It was raining outside (quite unusual for that time of year) and by the time it was you figured it was one of Rollins' idiots coming to do a job for you. What would he want now? Harbor information? Talk to a policeman? He was supposed to control everything, sometimes you kept wondering why he asked for your help.

When you opened the door, the air slipped in and almost extinguished the flame of the fire, but the temperature of the night wasn’t what left you freezing, but the presence that was in front of you. With his hat, a completely black outfit, and his cane in hand, but above all soaked from head to toe, there was him; Kaz. You almost feared you were imagining it, but you knew it was him by the clear, penetrating eyes that were watching you, even though you admitted that he had changed so much that in other circumstances you would have had trouble recognizing him.

“Did I arrive at a bad time?” he asked. No warm greetings, no smiles, no explanations. Just a cold, serious question, just the way he was.

“Someone followed you? If this place is horrible by itself, I don't want blood staining the floor” you replied with the same tone. You wanted to tell him that you had missed him, ask him if he was okay, and give him a huge hug, but those actions should be reserved for your nocturnal fantasies, because as soon as you took a step forward he would be able to hit you with his cane. Or at least that's what the Kaz you knew would do, but you doubted very much that the passing of the years would have softened his heart.

"Nobody followed me" was all he said and you stepped aside at the door so he could go inside. Even with his words, you felt the need to look out on both sides of the street in search of someone, but with the level of rain, you doubted very much that someone would want to stay and spy because he would probably die of pneumonia.

When you closed the door and turned around he didn't say anything, he just stood in front of you while the water drained from his coat. During that moment of silence, you allowed yourself to admire it under the warm light of the candle; his eyes definitely hadn't changed one bit, but now there was a tinge of contempt more noticeable than before. His features had hardened and he was thinner, barely resembling the boy you remembered, perhaps as a reminder of just that... that he was now a man.

“So the rumors are true…” you started to say “You are back”

"I think that's more than obvious," he exclaimed. For a second you forgot that it was he who had knocked on your door and you felt uncomfortable as if you were an intruder who had to get out of there.

There was silence again and you two just looked at each other. Kaz had made his own mental list of changes he noticed in you and was reflecting on when was the last time he had looked at you in such detail. You were wearing light clothes, because before he arrived you were about to go to sleep, and your face, although as childish as always, looked more tired than before. You had also cut your hair, which was messy around your shoulders and a bit darker in tone.

“And may I know to what I owe your visit? I guess you don't want to have tea” you said to break the silence. The dryness of your words in a certain way was to protect yourself because you never knew how much a sharp tongue like his could hurt you.

"I'm in a job and I need people"

Of course it was going to be due to a job, and of course that was why he had sought you out after so many years. A part of you, tremendously stupid, to tell you the truth, was hoping that during the time your friend was away from Ketterdam some divine clarity would have illuminated him so that he would realize that he had to look for you to repair your relationship and offer at least apologies. But you would have to pay him every kruge in the country for him to do something like that.

"I'm glad you considered me, but I'm sorry I have to decline."

"Why?" he asked immediately, his raspy voice showing annoyance at the refusal.

“Because it happens that you can’t work for opposing sides. At least not at the same time” you replied. Maybe it was due to fatigue, but you swore you saw a slight look of surprise on the man's face when you answered that. Most likely, he had assumed that you would be one of the few people who wouldn’t be on Pekka’s side and therefore a safe option.

“Do you work for Pekka?” he muttered. You knew him well enough to know that he was hurt, you could see it in his posture, in his voice, and especially in his look “After all he did to us?”

"And what did you want him to do?" you said, trying to ignore the fact that he had spoken in the plural. Us “You practically handed us over to him. My options were that or receive a bullet in the forehead."

"I didn’t hand you over to anyone"

"You abandoned us and left us in his hands, it's the same thing" you replied, shrugging. There was so much resentment and pain from never-closed wounds floating in the air that it was hard for him and you to think clearly. “Your vacation in Ravka may have been nice, but things only just went to hell here. So don't you dare judge me by the choices I made” you exclaimed defensively.

You didn't imagine that your first conversation with him after so long would be like this, but unfortunately, things never turned out the way you expected. After all, they were a crook and a spy talking in the dead of night.

"You could get information from him more easily," Kaz concluded, shrugging the same way you did. "And so we sink him from the inside."

"And risk him finding out and killing me?"

“You know that would never happen,” he said firmly “The thing about killing you. I wouldn't allow him” his eyes stared at you almost offended by the lack of trust you had towards him. There was silence for the third time and this time your gaze moved away to focus on anything but him.

"Plus you have this girl you took out of The Menagerie, don't you?" you said in your defense. The one you replaced me with, you wanted to add, but held back "So I don't know what you might need me for"

"With so many problems going on, I thought it would be better to have as many alliances as possible," he explained to you. You continued without looking at him, with your head still full of worries and sorrows, and when he didn’t receive an answer, he spoke again "You know that it is your best option"

"I don't know that, but I do know that I would have liked you to at least ask how I am before asking me to join the team you never wanted me in and from which you separated me as soon as you had the chance" you exhaled, in an attempt to lighten the weight on your chest.

It was no secret that you had always felt betrayed by Kaz’s treatment of you, even though he treated dozens of others the same way, because you somehow thought that your backstory was enough to deserve at least the sympathy or some consideration on the part of the crow. And of course you wanted to run from Pekka's clutches and plunge him into the deepest muck, but the resentment for what you considered your friend’s abandonment was stronger. You didn't even know if it was correct to call him ‘friend’.

"You would be a good ace up my sleeve" was all he replied, in an attempt to convince you. Kaz begged absolutely no one, but if there was one thing he had decided before coming to find you, it was that he wouldn't leave until you agreed to help him. Although the nature of your current job made things a bit difficult for him, "Pekka never knew you worked for me, did he?"

"With you" you corrected him "I didn't work for you but with you. We got to The Barrel at the same time”

"Y/N" he murmured. Your name sounded strange coming from his lips after so long without hearing it and that caught you off guard “I'm trying to help you so you don't end up hurt or dead. If you work for… with me, I can tell you where not to be. Otherwise I could find you in the rubble of some confrontation or with a knife from Inej or a bullet from Jesper through your chest”

"Always so thoughtful," you replied with a smirk, but as much as it pained you to admit it, he had a point. You knew what he was capable of and what Pekka was capable of… which side was more convenient to be on? "How much are you going to pay me?" you asked and Kaz smiled, but it wasn't a sign of happiness but mockery “You've always said that's what's really important, haven't you?”

He took something out of his coat and tossed it on the table. They were bills.

"An advance, when I recover the crow club, I will pay you the rest"

“So my pay depends on whether we win or not. That doesn't sound so convenient to me,” you muttered, clicking your tongue, as you fought the urge to say yes just to be near him. It was cold outside, the rain was making a lot of noise and you just wanted to sleep at once, but you knew that you could have been arguing with him all night and neither of you would back down. Kaz was stubborn, one way or another he would get what he wanted. "This isn't just about the club, is it?" you said, with your voice noticeably lower and you would even say with a touch of softness. You and Kaz never talked about what had happened, but each of you was dealing with the weight of the trauma in your own way. He didn't say anything and this time you saw something in him that was different from his usual behavior, knowing that it was those ghosts from the past tormenting him.

"If someone should make him pay, it's us"

Us, again.

"I'll think about it" was what you answered, after reflecting on what would be the appropriate response. The speechless moment gave you something else to think about, and you knew that a huge flaw of yours was how easily you let your heart take over. Because even with all the other feelings on top, you still worried about him "Now that the crow club isn't yours..." you started to say, afraid of what he might say "do you have a place to stay?"

You would have offered to sleep there if he said no, but instead he said he’d manage. That didn't completely reassure you, but you decided not to insist.

“First thing tomorrow, send a reply to this address,” he asked you, holding out a piece of paper that had a few drops on it “Don't go there personally or you'll screw everything up, just send me a note. A yes or a no will suffice”

“What if someone tracks down the note?” you asked, which was a totally valid concern.

Kaz was silent while he thought of an alternative, and then spoke again.

“Just write crows of a feather, murder together. I'll understand” he murmured and you nodded. You knew the poem he was quoting from, had read it many times from the worn-out book he had gotten for you. Kaz didn't wait for anything else and took long steps to the door, which he opened as soon as he could. "Good night, Y/N."

And then he left.

That night you thought a lot about the solution you would give him in the morning, thinking about the pros and cons of each possible answer, until you decided that it was best to say yes. You needed to do it if you wanted to live peacefully (as much as the place allowed) but the main reason was to support him. If he had been about any stupid dispute you would have said no, but you knew this was something else. Kaz missed Jordie every day of his life and his way of honoring him was by planning revenge against the one who led him to that fate, so it was kind of an obligation for you to help him with that too.

You wrote the note on a piece of paper and carefully folded it to put it in an envelope. You signed the outside with his name, written in the best handwriting you had, and although you were hesitant to do so, at the end you wrote a little ‘from a friend’ in the hope of making it clear to him, and perhaps even encouraging him that, if he was willing, you could recover a little of what you had lost. And you weren’t referring to physical things, but to what existed between you.

All your life you had lived with almost opposite feelings when it came to Kaz. Somehow you were upset with him for only seeing you as an instrument that he could dispose of for his interests, but this was linked to the feeling of affection that you wanted him to experience for you and that apparently didn’t exist. It was difficult to decipher anything he was thinking, not just about you, since he had taken it upon himself to build such a convincing facade that it made it complicated to see beyond. Added to that was his aversion to touch of any kind, which, while quite understandable and justified, still made you feel sad. More than once you tried, in vain, to be able to touch him in some way, even if it was something tiny, but he always pushed you away. He pushed you away physically and eventually emotionally, and yet with all this background you wanted to help him.

You knew you couldn't expect a reply to your note, but you were confident that he had received it, and your suspicions were confirmed when another letter came back a couple of days later. It contained a day, a time, and a place, which you assumed was a meeting with him.

You were very careful when you headed there, because you thought that the fewer people saw you together, the better, or else Pekka might suspect something. You covered yourself with a long black cloak for this task and when you arrived you noticed that it wasn't Kaz who was there, but a couple of boys.

"Who are you?"

"And you?" you asked, with the same defensive tone. The place seemed to be an experiment workshop and looking at it in more detail you noticed that there was a bed, so it could even be some kind of apartment. The two men, one brown-skinned and the other pale as snow, wore simple brown suits and were looking at you warily.

“She is Y/N,” said a voice behind you. By the sound of the cane accompanied by the footsteps you knew it was Kaz, “she will work with us”

"Oh," said the dark-haired boy, looking happier with the answer, as he walked in your direction "Welcome, in that case" he muttered flirtatiously, as he held out his hand for you to greet him "Jesper Fahey, at your service”

"I am Wylan" intervened the other, from his place, timidly and quickly.

"You arrived" Kaz spoke again. You turned and a couple of women appeared, you guessed that the shorter one with Suli features was the famous wraith of Kaz. And she was beautiful, you couldn't help but notice.

There was a brief conversation with the six of you there and then Kaz asked you to walk him up to the roof of the place. Once there you instinctively stood next to the only one you knew and he just looked at you out of the corner of his eye while he adopted the typical position of him leaning on the cane.

“Brick by brick” whispered the man’s raspy voice and you were about to ask what you were supposed to do there when an explosion went off in the distance so impressively that you stepped back a bit. It didn't take you more than a few seconds to locate the space and realize the place it was.

"The crow club" you said in a low voice, only for the black-haired man to hear you, while you watched him in profile. But he didn't look at you, just exchanged words with the others and talked about how Pekka's apparent reign was coming to an end.

You'd always known that Kaz Brekker was a little unhinged, and that night you proved it for sure, but you weren't even the least bit afraid. Rather, it was some strange hope that this madness would allow you to go far. Even freedom, perhaps.

After that clear declaration of war, things got considerably complicated, especially when you were summoned before Pekka and he asked you to investigate someone in particular and it turned out to be none other than the man you were now secretly working with. You assumed it was something logical, but even so you feared that Rollins had noticed the slight tremor in your hands when he asked you to complete the task.

You summoned Kaz to Black Veil Cemetery, late at night, and there you confessed to him everything that had happened. He of course found something good in this and devised a way to use it to your advantage, which put you at ease. It still amazed you a little at how nervous you became around him as if you knew nothing of what you were doing, but when you regained your composure you thought it was an excellent plan.

Meetings with Kaz were regular, but always in secret and alone, and they worked to exchange information that you considered useful for him with what he would allow Pekka to know.

You didn't know the full plans and you weren't part of them in any way, or you would be found out, but you knew about almost everything that was going on. The attacks, the fights, the traps, the injuries... you had to look at everything from the outside without being able to intervene. It was frustrating for you, more than anything in the world, and you had to admit that you had taken a liking to crows, even if you had seen them only a couple of times, so you also looked after their safety.

One day you received a note and went to a meeting with all the members of his group present, to finally hear the full version of what Kaz intended to do to finish off your boss. It was a brilliant idea, but you were a little worried about your position in all of this.

“You mean I'm going to be there watching everything Pekka and his thugs do?”

"It will be the best" he answered you. His face still had a bruise on his cheek, a memory from the last fight he had, and he looked exhausted "Jesper and Nina will be there, plus you'll be in disguise" he added and you nodded at that.

When the moment came you thought it would be an easy task, but when Kaz started to get brutally beaten you had to muster all your willpower not to throw yourself into trying to face Pekka, even with your zero skill. He sounded so convincing when he said about Alby that even you believed it, feeling suddenly awed by the cynical smile on Kaz's blood-smeared face. And he also mentioned you in the story, although not directly, saying that it was all about revenge for having abandoned you two when you were children.

You were able to breathe again until Pekka and his entire gang left the place in search of a son who wasn't really buried and you four were left alone. Under other circumstances you would have run to Kaz, cupped his face in your hands, sobbed, and told him it was over. But instead, you just stood in front of him and watched him; his eyes were wild with fury and a thirst for revenge that had already been quenched, but you sensed a hint of calm when he became aware of your presence.

"Breathe," you said in a whisper. Jesper and Nina were dismayed by the closeness with which you spoke to him, as they knew little of your history together “You're fine. We all are,” you assured him. That situation took you back to multiple panic attacks in the past where, given the impossibility of physical contact, all you could do for him was talk to calm him down. It always worked and Kaz had forgotten how soft your voice was and the way you brought him back to the real world. You decided to risk trying to do something else to comfort him and cautiously stretched out your hand towards him, instantly seeing his eyes widen in terror. But your hand ended up landing, more like a touch than a squeeze, on the man's bicep, which was covered by his coat; it wasn't intrusive, or abrupt, and Kaz was surprised that he didn't feel anything negative about it. He looked at your hand and then he looked at you with that usual serious expression, but he didn't push you away and allowed you to stay that way for just a few seconds, after which you decided to move your limb back.

You didn’t receive a verbal response at any time, but you did see him exhale shakily (so softly that you barely noticed) and nod his head while still looking at you, as if he were letting go of a huge weight that was stuck in his chest and at the same time assure you that it felt like a victory. Victory for beating Pekka, victory because he wasn't engulfed by an attack when you touched him, and victory because somehow you were there. You were with him, again.

“Now can we go back to normal?” Jesper asked, to break the silence, and you felt like laughing. Have they ever had a normal life? you asked yourself, but you didn't say.

"Yes" was all Kaz said and taking one last look at you he began to walk in the direction of the exit.

Both of them were curious about the type of relationship you had with Kaz but neither thought it wise to ask at the time, although Nina was getting an idea of things thanks to your racing heartbeat and his that it was impossible not to hear a moment ago. You stayed there just long enough to have a drink with Jesper and then you left the Emerald Palace. You didn't want to go back home, but going with one of them didn't seem like an option either, and once you were on the street you felt worried about remembering the state the black-haired man had left. You trusted that by that time he would be calmer and as if they thought for themselves your legs began to walk to look for him.

It was cold again and you feared you would meet someone dangerous on the road, but you only saw a couple of drunks and a girl looking for clients. Until you were in front of the door, you wondered if it was a good idea to go in, thinking that you would probably be crossing a line that Kaz was not going to allow you to, and wondering if you were going to put up with his refusal, which was a pretty good chance.

With trembling hands you opened the door, which luckily was unlocked, and as if some unknown instinct were guiding you, you found Kaz's room; it was the only one from which light came out through the crack in the door and something told you that he was there. You knocked twice, fearing you had knocked so low that he hadn't heard, and even considered walking back the way you came, but didn't have time to as the door opened a few seconds later. He had already taken off his coat and vest, probably because they were stained with blood, and his black shirt was open at the top buttons, with the suspenders that held up his pants hanging on his thighs. But what caught your attention the most were his pale, gloveless hands.

"What do you need?" he asked you directly. His face looked worse now that the bruises had swollen and the blood was dry. He'd probably have them for a couple of days, and he was definitely going to have a scar over his eyebrow.

"I wanted to see you" you replied, instantly regretting not having considered your sincere words better "I mean... to see how you were" you tried to correct. You thought he would slam the door in your face, but instead he scooted to the side to let you in, then closed the door behind you with a soft click.

Again you felt alien to the place for a moment, thanks to the fact that he looked at you from head to toe as if your presence bothered him. You had to mentally remind yourself that he saw most of them that way.

“Your pay will be ready soon”

"That doesn't matter," you said softly. Several things had changed since the first conversation you had with him, because now that you knew why Kaz had done everything he had done and the traumatic memories returned to both of you, the money had taken a backseat.

You didn't say anything for a moment and you looked for a place where you could sit later. Kaz’s room, once painted green but now just damp walls, had a small bed by the window, a desk littered with papers and a lamp facing another window, with a simple bookcase placed on the top of the side wall; a nightstand, a place to wash your hands with a mirror above it, a circular table in the middle of the free space, and a single armchair that at least looked comfortable. It wasn't the prettiest place, but at least it was cozy.

"Your girl, did she leave?"

“Inej is not my girl. Or from anyone, she is free now” he answered you. He still wasn't looking at you and you noticed that he was having a hard time staying on his feet.

"I'm glad to hear it. She deserves it” you murmured sincerely. You thought that she would be important to Kaz, like all his partners, and you decided to venture out to see if he revealed something else to you. "She's very smart."

"She is"

"And she's pretty too" you added and without moving his head he looked out at yours. You felt as if he was reading your intentions through your eyes, a quality he had always had.

"I think so," he said without much interest.

"Are you very hurt?" you asked, changing the subject, as you took a step towards him. By inertia he took the same step, in the opposite direction, and that made you stop abruptly.

"Nothing to worry about" he exclaimed and though he thought, you couldn't have known, of course, get close to you, you decided to take that step back before he did anything else.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Mhm"

"What did I do to make you walk away?" you exclaimed, finally expressing a question that had been eating away at your chest and tormenting you for many nights in a row. And since there was silence, you spoke again: “Not like right now, but a long time ago. It's just… I never understood it. Before we were friends and for me… you were even like a family. I loved your brother too and I know losing him never affected us the same, but I was glad you were there for me after that. Then we got older and things got more difficult, but I still had you and that calmed me down. And then… we just drifted apart,” you muttered, shrugging, as you avoided his gaze. Kaz still didn't answer anything and you felt the obligation to fill the silence “Sometimes I remember the things we went through when we were young. The good ones, of course. Like that time we stole a cake to celebrate your birthday and it was probably the best sweet I've ever eaten” you commented, smiling at the memory "And when I made you laugh with my bad jokes, no matter how angry or sad you were... I haven't seen you smile for a long time and I don't know if you celebrate your birthday anymore” you reflected wistfully, almost as if you were talking to yourself. And well, in the face of Kaz's inexpressiveness, that's practically what you were doing.

He hadn't said anything yet and you concluded that all your effort was useless. It had been a mistake to go looking for him, as well as trying to get even the slightest proof that he had ever missed you and you wished you had never opened your mouth. You sighed to contain the urge to cry and without saying anything else you turned towards the exit, intending to leave and return only for your money, but Kaz's voice echoed.

"Do you remember what I told Pekka?"

You stopped.

“You told him many things, you will have to be more specific”

"About not loving anything" he replied. Your hand trembled on the doorknob at the mere thought of what he was implying and I was able to hear your racing heart pounding in your chest. You heard footsteps and, still without moving, you heard him speak again "That's why I drifted apart”

You never, even in your wildest dreams, imagined that he would say something like that to you and perhaps you were just deluding yourself with the implication of the words, but it was enough to make you freeze in place.

"I still don't understand how that relates to me” you expressed in a low voice. Kaz took a few more steps towards you until you could see his shadow mingling with yours and you felt it was time to turn. He was watching you from above, seriously.

"I didn't want…" he trailed off. You would almost say he was nervous “I didn't want you to be…”

"A weak spot," you said without thinking, followed by a sigh that sounded almost amused "That's your problem, Kaz," you continued, your gaze far across the room, "You think love is a person's greatest weakness, when it's not like that"

"It is not?"

"No" you exclaimed with determination "I believe that... many times love is what keeps us alive. Struggling"

You were speaking for yourself when you said this. What was your motivation every day? In the past, the love for Kaz. Now, it was love for yourself and the hope that one day someone could love you with the intensity with which you loved others.

“I had already lost Jordie. I didn't want to lose you too,” he finally said and that's when your eyes locked with his. You never thought he would verbally express something like that.

“And did you prefer that I lose you?" you whispered in pain. You wanted him to be aware of things, because it seemed like it had never crossed his mind to stop thinking about your well-being and start thinking about your feelings. “You don't just lose someone when they die, Kaz. You can also lose those who are fully alive”

He didn't say anything, because he clearly didn't know what to answer to that, and while he reflected on your words, you caught a glimpse of a certain vulnerability in his blue eyes that you had rarely seen. I couldn't say that you knew the man in front of you better than anyone, but you had a considerable advantage thanks to the years you had lived with him.

“Okay, just… listen” you started to say, knowing he most likely wouldn't give you an answer “I know it's hard to live as we do— as all of us at The Barrel live, but the risks I decide or don't take. They are my decision, not yours. These years you have sought to keep me out of danger and I appreciate it, but you have to learn to trust me”

"I do. I trust you"

"Then show me," you replied. You couldn't help noticing that, even with his stained face, Kaz was still the most handsome man you'd ever seen “Friends do not avoid each other, nor do they move away and despite that, during all these years I have trusted you as from the first moment we were left alone”

You didn't know if you were saying the right thing, but at least you were saying something.

"And if it's too late?"

It was too late? Kaz wondered. He wondered if it was too late to open up to someone, to try to get over his trauma, to let go and finally love you the way he wanted to.

But all this remained as a thought, phrases that couldn’t leave his throat.

“It's not for me,” you assured him. “But my patience won't last forever. I think you should know that”

You couldn't even imagine how many emotions Kaz was trying to process at that moment, but even he himself didn't understand what a mess you'd made of him with that conversation. From his perception, he had admitted that he loved you, but from his eyes, you didn't seem affected by it. And you, contrary to what he thought, felt like you were going to faint.

You were about to leave, for the second time, but he spoke:

“Stay,” he said, sounding more desperate than he would have liked. “I don't know what to say, but… just stay here. I don't want us to be alone tonight”

Us. That fucking habit of Kaz's to speak in the plural and make you a nervous wreck.

You looked at the bed and found that it was too small for both of you, to which we had to add his refusal to be close to others. Proof of this was the unconscious movement of sticking your hands as close as possible to his body during the entire time you were talking.

"Use the bed, obviously you need it more than me" you muttered and went directly to the armchair. Fortunately your first impression wasn’t wrong, it was very comfortable.

The room was so small that the apparent distance between the pieces of furniture didn't mean much, so when he sat on the bed you could see him perfectly.

The memory of one of the times when both of you were in similar situations came to your mind. That night you had been woken by frightened screams from the next room, in that abandoned house where you and Kaz found shelter, forcing you out of bed to investigate.

It was hard to comfort a person without physically touching them, especially when he had nightmares, and over the months you'd had to get used to it. The boy hated waking you up, it made him feel guilty and stupid, but you always kept him company. You never spoke, never asked questions, you just stayed there so he knew he wasn't alone.

Maybe something like that was what Kaz needed tonight.

"Rest" you exclaimed. His head turned to look at you and you detected a different and special glow in his eyes; as if it were a mixture of fear, softness, and gentleness. You appreciated that look for a few more seconds, which you feared you would never see again in your life, and then you reached out your hand to turn off the light on the desk.

Silence reigned in the darkness.

You settled in the chair, trying to figure out what would be the best sleeping position, and at the same time you heard Kaz slide between the sheets on the bed. After a while, your eyelids felt heavy, a consequence of the fatigue that the hustle and bustle of the day had left you, and when you were about to fall asleep, a voice pulled you out of your reverie.

"Thank you. For everything”

The phrase was a whisper, a delicate caress in your ear, but you understood it clearly. And you decided to think that when Kaz said 'for everything' he meant literally everything you had selflessly done for him during his life; like he just realized you were important. But it's not that he had just noticed it, but that he had just accepted it.

You wanted to stretch out the moment as long as you could because, even if you weren't looking at him, you knew he was awake thanks to the sound of his breathing, but at some point sleep overcame you and you fell fast asleep.

Kaz had nightmares that night, like always, but the difference was that when he woke up in shock in the morning, you were in the same room. So seeing you there, keeping him company, was reason enough to calm him down.

And like every time this had happened, he felt like the luckiest man in the world.

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #the crows #six of crows #jesper fahey #inej gafha #wylan van eck #nina zenik #mathias helvar #shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker imagine

1K notes · View notes