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simpingland · 5 months ago

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Req: Can you write something with Ewan Mitchell and his co-star (pronounced feminine) where they are on the set of season 2 and how he is surprised by every performances that fem gives (Fem's character is bad and perverse), since since the recordings of season one he was already staring at her surprised by her actings and now with Season 2 he wants to spend more time with her, plus he likes her.

The Rehearsal// Ewan Mitchell x Fem!actress

Summary: Ewan is a method actor and it has been working fine for him. But he regrets this decision when season 2 of HOTD starts with a love scene, being partner with a lovely talented actress who propaply hates him and his mathods. But nothing is better than asking for help when one needs it, right?

|~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~|

Ewan watched from the monitor, patch removed but wig still on, your close-up was impressive. One look at you and you could see all the ambitions that were going through your character's mind, and he himself regretted not having told you yet. The good news was that filming for season two had just begun, and in this new season, Ewan had the opportunity to do scenes only with you.

They shouted cut, and you immediately broke into a smile, laughing after such an intense scene. You received compliments as you were photographed to keep the raccord straight.

"Congratulations, that's a good start," the director said to you. "Remember you have a special sequence tomorrow, get a good rest."

Yes, you remembered. And Tom (who played your brother Aegon) smiled mischievously at you. It was a kissing scene with Ewan, with whom you had barely exchanged a word since the moment you were confirmed as part of the cast, a year and a half ago. You only spoke a little at the audition, which was a chemistry test, and he was a sweet, unassuming guy. When he was announced as the official actor of Aemond... it was something different. You didn't interact in the scenes in the first season, his scenes were shared more with Fabien and Tom, while you had shared scenes with Olivia and Phia (Alicent and Helaena). The chemistry your characters were supposed to have was only hinted by the placement of you both in the scene or montages of shots that you only saw once the series was released. And in the meantime, Ewan had stayed away from all those with whom he didn't share any dialogue, with the excuse of staying focused on his character. Tom had already told you numerous times that Ewan thought you were a fantastic actress, but you always responded the same way.

"If he does, let him tell me so. Then I'll be flattered.”

When the script for the second season came, both of you, in your respective homes, had your hearts skipped a beat. Your character would approach Aemond in the throne room in the middle of the night. And there they not only talk, but share a kiss that promises to go further in the following seasons. Aemond confessed his love for your character, and being that it was a story taken from the world of Game of Thrones, it was sure to end in much more intimate scenes. Normal for actors and comfortable for a cast that was so friendly and close. But with Ewan being so distant and serious? It was difficult. You didn't even dare to call him. Nor did he call you. What you did do was call Tom.

"She hasn't spoken to me once since we started filming. I've seen her look at me sometimes, like she's trying to talk to me but then, before I could say a word, she's gone quiet again. Tom...I don't think I should take being a method actor so seriously," he said to the other actor.

"It amuses me immensely to be the connecting point for both of you. Don't worry, Ewan, she's a sweetheart, and very understanding. She knows that everyone has their own procedure. So if she has respected your method, you should respect hers."

"And what is her procedure?"

"According to Phia, she loves to walk back and forth repeating her lines in a thousand ways."

Right, Ewan saw the video Phia sent around the group so everyone could see how lunatic you looked. And even there, after discovering you were being filmed, you smiled tenderly at Phia asking her to stop. What else would he have missed since you weren't talking?

You had already taken off your wig, your hair was loose and your dress had been off for quite a while. You were waiting to take off your make-up when your trailer was called. You were expecting anyone, happy to have any interaction with the wonderful team around you, but when you saw Ewan, the smile must have dropped a little.

"Sorry if I'm intruding. Is it late?" Ewan asked you as he saw your friendly greeting getting lost in the air.

It wasn't dark yet, and the next day's filming was starting early, so you genuinely didn't know what to say to him.

"Well... I have to finish off some of the lines for tomorrow.’

The lines you had to say with him, and he knew that. But since that wasn't an invitation, Ewan understood instantly and nodded.

"Well, I just wanted to tell you...it's been an awesome first day of shooting for you. It's no wonder you're a fan favorite."

That made you blush.

"Well, that means a lot coming from you."

He smiled sheepishly at you, you were taller than he was, standing on the trailer and he was on the grass a few stairs down. And yet he seemed way too big.

"I promise I'll be on time tomorrow so we'll have plenty of time to rehearse," he said, trying to get out of the strange conversation he had started.

You nodded and watched as he walked away, the patch in his hand and taking off his seatbelts. Did he come with the intention of chatting? My God, you'd had a chance to talk at length with your fellow cast member and you'd wasted it? You needed to go over the scene as much as possible!

"Ewan!" You called out to him, hanging almost on your doorstep, he turned with that agility that is so engaging on screen (and in person). "Are you done for the day?"

"I've got to get out of my costume. But...yes, I'm done."

"Would you mind..." you mumbled in an exaggeratedly loud voice for him to hear. How embarrassing. "Would you mind dropping by again to rehearse?"

Ewan stood still for a second. He watched you from afar, so affectionate and shy, totally contrary to your character, and felt a deep tenderness.

"I'll be back in half an hour," he promised you.

You looked forward to it, and you'd be lying if you didn't say that you'd put your make-up back on a bit. Ewan, on the other hand, was hurrying more than usual to remove his own clothes, forgetting to remove his fake scars in the rush that followed him. He was punctual, and in thirty and a half minutes, he was knocking on your door again.

"I really appreciate you doing this, Ewan," you said as he climbed into your trailer.

"Don't worry, it's going to be fun."

You looked at each other for a second, smiling, kind of gawking, which was nothing like the scene you had to recreate.

"How do you prepare for a scene?" You ask.

"I listen to some music. But I want to try what you do. "

He looked at you expectantly, and you suddenly felt embarrassed. Like the girls at the school function.

"So... I close my eyes, and I create a map where everything looks a little bit like the set."

"And what do we choose to be the throne?" Ewan smiled, which made you blush even more.

"Well... "There was a fully finished teacup, with the inelegantly squeezed bag next to it, dripping. You'd forgotten to clean it up completely. "That cup itself."

Ewan frowned slightly, teasingly, and nodded. The next step for you was harder to explain.

"Now, Ewan, I need some space."

He sat down on your couch, script to one side, the bastard having already memorized it all. And from there he watched live what he'd been craving for months, watching you pace back and forth. You read the annotations and your lines.

"They will never forgive our family for what I did," Ewan replied, intoning in the silky voice he gave Aemond.

"If it's any consolation, I doubt they would be willing to let us live even if we had given them the throne willingly, Aemond..." though you paced, your hands and gestures maintained theatricality, and you repeated the phrase three more times, all with trapped deliberation. "This pantomime of repentance can only convince Mother...but not me."

"What pantomime do you mean?" replied Aemond.

Then your character stopped looking at Aemond to stare at the Throne. In this case you stopped to stare at the ugly teacup. You had to hold back a smile. Ewan looked at it too.

"It's impossible to fool you, it always has been." Ewan got up from the sofa and approached you, as Aemond does with your character. "It is a crude, chaotic and ugly object, but always that which I have desired."

Then the laughter you'd been holding back escaped, unable to think of the mug as anything else. And Ewan laughed with you, all the tension disappearing instantly. Now he could understand the affection with which everyone spoke of you.

"I'm sorry, really," you said, getting serious again. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise, this is fun. I'm going to try your method. Shall we close our eyes?"

"That's right."

You closed them at the same time, thinking about the huge room, illuminated by a silver light that simulated the moon. And after a few seconds, Ewan opened his eyes to look at you. Although you didn't have your white hair, or the elegant dress, your eyes were the same, as beautiful and bright as they were behind the cameras. And he had the privilege of being the focus of your attention and having them in the foreground.

"Though I think I was always more subtle with another of my longings..." he whispered close to your lips.

"That you tried at least" you whispered back.

"When I get the throne I'll need someone as sharp as you to accompany me. There is no woman in the seven kingdoms who compares to you."

Then came the kiss. You looked into Ewan's eyes, up his nose and down to his lips. What was there left to throw yourself? Not much, but with him being so reclusive, with that being one of the few times you spoke to each other, it felt strange to pounce on him without consent. So you walked away, leaving the scene there.

"We can work this out with the director and the intimacy coordinator, if you like," Ewan suggested, a little flushed and extremely sweet.

You poured him a cup of tea while you discussed the romance that your characters might have developed over the years that the series skips. You imagined romantic scenes that might have led up to that kiss and concluded that they were a toxic couple, but possibly better than Rhaenyra and Daemon.

"You know, I love the way you act and I love that I discovered your process," he confessed. "I think the admiration part is not going to be too hard to act out."

"Oh...my process is really ridiculous, everyone laughs at me. I'm glad it at least works. But it gives me a hard time at auditions," you laughed nervously.

"Well, it's true that it's fun to watch. But it's certainly worth it. I don't think you have anything to envy the others, you're...magnetic." He said it with a seriousness that moved you, adding to his intense gaze. "I'm sorry I wasn't smart enough to tell you sooner, because I've been thinking about it since the day they put me in the same room you were in, back at the audition.”

You froze a little, so you just said what you felt in the simplest way and with the most honest smile.

"Thank you."

Ewan took the last sip of his tea and before he left you remembered one of the thousand questions you had for him.

"Is there a reason you haven't removed the scar? Something to do with method acting?"

"Scar?"

You touched his cheek, where the scar began, and Ewan understood instantly.

"Ah, gee, I completely forgot to go through makeup. I'll get a telling off tomorrow."

"Not if you sleep on it until tomorrow" you joked. "Let me help you, I love fake wounds."

You stood next to him, towering over him a little, and lifted the thin layer of silicone with the delicacy you had seen in make-up artists. You were envious of the woman who was in charge of characterising a person as curiously attractive as Ewan. He also smelled exaggeratedly good.

When you took it off, you threw it into the creepy teacup from earlier.

"I've almost run out from, the costume department before," he justified himself. You took the opportunity to wipe that part of her face with a makeup remover wipe. "I usually do this part myself..."

"I know, but I like it..."

And while you were stroking his face with the excuse of cleaning it, Ewan was watching your lips, and didn't notice that you had noticed. You pushed the wipe away, stroking his chin, and at the same time, you both pressed your lips together. A strange kiss, something special, sweet and soft. You stretched it out, standing almost still, afraid of what would happen if you broke apart. When you finally did, you looked at each other with a look of confusion, though neither you nor Ewan pulled away.

It was a dangerous idea, he was your partner, and you had been unprofessional. You broke away.

"I think you should rest. I've distracted you too much." Your tone came out agitated and Ewan rose slowly.

"No, it's all right. I liked it. I liked everything. Didn't you?" He had emphasised the word 'everything' and was looking at you with lambent eyes.

"Yes...I loved being with you."

He said goodbye with a smile of his, and you bowed at your door like a little girl. Most of the team had already gone to rest and you barely noticed.

You had to put on more concealer than usual the next day because of the lack of sleep you'd had from that strange kiss. Ewan had kept his promise and had arrived a good while earlier to re-rehearse the scene. You did it without the kiss or the lights, just with the director's instructions and with your cheeks flushed as you exchanged glances.

"Did you practice with the kiss?" the intimacy coordinator asked you.

You were completely silent. Ewan answered for you.

"Not really, maybe it's better to give a first kiss at the moment of the shot. More realism."

"Well, then I guess you've worked out the sexual tension and dynamics of your characters."

Ewan nodded and smiled, which made you smile. Had he put hours of sleep into your little meeting yesterday? Yes, he had, and he told the woman who was putting on his scar who asked him who had removed it the day before. When you returned to the set, lights on, costumes on, cameras rolling, Ewan looked at you in the distance, asking you with his eyes if you were ready. You nodded with a shy smile, and began to act when they shouted action.

Aemond, still dressed and coming from the castle library, walked into the empty throne room to watch you. You walked behind him, in a smart dressing gown, your hair loose and trying uselessly not to make a sound. Aemond then spoke aloud.

"They will never forgive our family for what I did."

You approached Ewan, who still wouldn't look at you.

"If it's any consolation, I doubt they would be willing to let us live even if we had given them the throne willingly, Aemond..." You leaned into him a little, as the director had recommended. He was so tall and so tense that you felt as safe as if you were leaning against a stone pillar. "This pantomime of repentance can only convince Mother...but not me." Then Aemond would look down to see you out of the corner of his eye, which made your character - and you - nervous.

"What pantomime do you mean?"

Then you looked at the throne, now there was no laughter to disturb you, only the terrible seat of swords before you. And Aemond was looking at it too.

"It's impossible to fool you, it always has been. It is a brutish, chaotic, ugly object, but always that which I have desired."

After a pause, he turned fully around to look at you, his height becoming primordial in that short distance. In that low light, Ewan's visible eye looked into your eyes, dropping to your lips subtly.

"Though I think I was always more subtle with another of my longings..." he whispered in his velvety tone.

"That you tried at least" you replied trying to keep your composure. If they knew how hard you were struggling not to fall to your knees at that moment they would have nominated you for an Emmy by now.

"When I get the throne I'll need someone as clever as you to accompany me. There is no woman in the seven kingdoms who compares to you."

He stroked your face gently, something that coming from Ewan was tender and expected, immensely pleasing, but then you remembered that Aemond could never be so gentle in the face of his urges, and you let your own out. You pressed yourself against him, pressing your lips together with all the assurance you had longed for the night before. You could feel Ewan intensify your kiss even more, placing his hand on your neck. All the possible kisses that had been going on in your head during the night were now dwarfed by the kiss that was happening right there. As fierce as your characters, with the longing you had just discovered that you and Ewan had shared for a year and a half.

It was only when they shouted 'cut' that you broke apart, catching your breath and barely breaking away. Some applause, chatter and comments from the team, you could hear little of what they were saying. You pulled away flushed, laughing at the sudden intensity. You looked at the director as Ewan smoothed his jacket.

"Let's look at the shot, I think it was simply perfect, congratulations."

Another round of applause, and you felt Ewan brush your unruly hair out of your face, stroking it as he ruffled your hair.

"What a pity not to have to repeat this scene..." He confessed.

"That's the thing about being so talented," you joked.

"Obviously..." he removed his patch and turned back to you to ask in a quieter voice, "although I'd love to have more private acting classes with you..."

You smiled at the hint.

"I'll give them to you if in exchange you let me remove your fake scars again."

"Deal."

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #aemond one eye #prince aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #hotd x reader #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewan mitchell x reader #celebrities x reader #house of the dragon imagines #hotd #hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon aemond

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musaslullaby · 2 months ago

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The couple chosen by the fans

Kimi Antonelli x fem reader

Summary: The fans bring Yn and Kimi together with a little help from outside.

Face: people on Pinterest, and the driver.

Warning: fluff, Instagram AU.

A/N: Guys, I’m sorry but today is my last day of vacation. Tomorrow I’ll go back to school, so I won’t be able to publish fanfiction every day.

Masterlist

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪

Yn_sainz

Description: Tell me you're a fan of F1 without telling me you're a fan of F1. I'll start.

Liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and other 98,453.

carlossainz55: Say it, that I'm your favorite driver.

landonorris: Sorry to contradict you, but everyone knows it's me. ❤️ Like to author

charles_leclerc: Thanks, Yn, now Carlos will start bragging.

Yn_sainz: You're welcome, don't mention it.

georgerussell63: I like your dress.

❤️ Like to author

Yn_sainz: Thanks, it's the one we bought together.

carlossainz55: George, I'm keeping an eye on you.

Lover: We all know Yn will always side with her big brother.

55_: They're beautiful.

Hotchili: Guys, have you seen the video where they argue in Spanish?

16and55: Yes, it's adorable. They're so cute.

Carlos.norris: Carlos was talking so fast.

Formula: Too fast. Even I, who am Spanish, couldn't understand him.

lovef1race: I want those bracelets too.

gr63_: Let's go buy beads to make them right away.

kimi.antonelli

Description: Today was a fantastic race despite the difficulties. Thanks to everyone, and now let's celebrate my first place.

Liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell63, and other 9,384,93.

f1lover: Kimi, I love you.

Race: You were amazing, a beautiful race.

vroom: We are all so proud of you, Kimi.

georgerussell63: Congrats to my future teammate.

❤️ Like to author

lewishamilton: I couldn't be happier to have you replace me. ❤️ Like to author

mercedesmylife: Kimi, do you know Yn Sainz?

kimylover: If I'm not mistaken, she's around his age.

12_: Yes, she's very kind and friendly with the fans.

kimi12: Yes, and she speaks Italian too.

georgerussell63: 😁

63_44: He got it!

gr63: George, you have a task.

hotchili: Carlos is going to kill him.

Yn_sainz

Description: Today they decided to sabotage all my photos.

Liked by charles_leclerc, kimi.antonelli, and other 743,736.

carlossainz55: This isn't ruining them, it's adding something extra.

charles_leclerc: Plus, we look great, hermana

Yn_sainz: OK, never try to speak Spanish again.

oscarpiastri: The last photo is beautiful.

❤️ Like to author

landonorris: Thanks to me.

Yn_sainz: Yes, because Carlos doesn't know how to take photos.

carlossainz55: Did you decide to hate me today?

Yn_sainz: Yes, and I will until you win.

charles_leclerc: Yn, don't go to the enemies.

Yn_sainz: If I don't go, they're the ones who come to me.

oscarpiastri: You better build a barricade.

mercedelover: The face of Toto Wolff though.

f1life: But even Charles and Carlos really tried.

Q3: Maybe it's the day of silly faces, and we didn't know.

Kimimylife: Guys, am I the only one who noticed Kimi's like?

georgerussell63

Description: Subject one has arrived.

Liked by lewishamilton, landonorris, and other 56,635,353.

f1lover: Go, George!

race: Just a little longer.

vroom: Imagine what a crazy couple they'd make.

kimylover: Kimi is so cute.

gr63_: He knows.

63_44: George's face in the last photo says it all.

lewishamilton: That’s the "you’ll thank me soon" face. ❤️ Like to author

kimi.antonelli: For what, exactly?

georgerussell63: You'll understand soon.

ferrarifan: We want the video of when they meet.

12_: Absolutely!

geroge_: Please, George Russell, listen to our requests.

landonorris

Description: Subject two retrieved.

Liked by Yn_sainz, georgerussell63, and other 736,636,542.

Ln4: Oh my God, Carlos is going to kill you.

gr63: Lando is part of the plan too.

lan_: Poor Yn, she’s not understanding anything right now.

Yn_sainz: Indeed, I’m not understanding.

landonorris: Everyone, be quiet.

charles_leclerc: The first one who talks will have their tickets revoked. ❤️ Like to author

f1lover: So everyone knows?

charles_leclerc: Except for one person.

georgerussell63: We even got Toto involved. ❤️ Like to author

Yn_sainz: Guys, you're scaring me.

carlossainz55: Take off that shirt now.

oscarpiastri: Let her have fun. ❤️ Like to author

landonorris: My shirt looks great on her.

carlossainz55: I don’t care.

carlos.norris: Carlos doesn’t ask questions.

carlossainz55: Why should I?

charles_leclerc: Exactly, why should he?

Yn_sainz

Description: Maybe I owe you all a thank you.

Liked by oscarpiastri, carlossainz55, and other 7,378,863

f1lover: Wait, what do you mean?

race: Did it really happen?

vroom: Now we’re going to find out it wasn’t Kimi.

gr63: But we know they’ve met.

kimimylife: That bracelet looks way too much like Kimi's.

12_: I agree, but lots of guys wear those types of bracelets.

charles_leclerc: I didn’t know, but I suspected.

❤️ Like to author

carlossainz55: I approve, but hands off. ❤️ Like to author

georgerussell63: The spark had ignited. ❤️ Like to author

landonorris: Are you trying a soft launch, Yn?

Yn_sainz: Yes, so keep quiet.

63_44: No guys, please tell us.

lan_: Lando, I beg you.

Yn_sainz

Description: I could spend my life listening to you talk.

Liked by landonorris, kimi.antonelli, and other 9,384,93.

landonorris: Okay guys, before Yn notices, her boyfriend is...

Yn_sainz: LANDO!

carlossainz55: Lando, I know where you live. ❤️ Like to author

landonorris: Plan failed.

f1lover: Okay guys, it’s clearly Kimi.

12_: Come on guys, it’s him, you’ve seen the posts.

gr63_: Yeah, and Yn was on a date with a guy a few hours ago.

vroom: Guys, we sound like stalkers.

63_44: That’s what we are.

hotchili: Anyway, in the last photo, the guy’s eyes are brown, and guess who else has brown eyes?

6312: Ummm Kimi Antonelli.

Ferrarifan: True!

KimiandYn: Come on Yn, this isn’t funny. We want to know who it is.

Kimimybaby: We’ve already figured you two out.

oscarpiastri: I don’t think she’ll give in so easily. ❤️ Like to author

kimimylife: Yn and Kimi, we hate you.

Yn_sainz

Description: You're great stalkers, you've figured us out.

Liked by kimi.antonelli, carlossainz55, and other 9,384,93.

kimi.antonelli: Wait, when did you take the second-to-last photo?

carlossainz55: First lesson: never fall asleep in the presence of my sister. ❤️ Like to author

charles_leclerc: It didn’t take a genius to figure out you two were together.

Yn_sainz: But you asked me ten times because you couldn’t tell if I was joking.

georgerussell63: My favorite couple.

landonorris: I knew you wouldn’t manage a soft launch.

Yn_sainz: Actually, I’m a very patient person.

oscarpiastri: Yn, we all know you were dying to show him off.

lewishamilton: We’ve set Kimi up for life.

Yn_sainz: I’ll never let him go.

carlossainz55: Run while you still can.

kimi.antonelli: For now, it's tolerable.

Yn_sainz: At this point, I wish you hated Kimi.

carlossainz55: Too bad for you, sis.

f1lover: The first couple created by the fans.

Charlesss: They’re so beautiful!

vroom: I hoped for it, but I can’t believe it.

63_44: Believe it, it’s all true!

landonorris: I have the video of when Yn saw Kimi for the first time.

charles_leclerc: I'll give you 10 euros if you send it to me.

landonorris: Sent.

Yn_sainz: The moment I see you both, I'm going to strangle you.

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #fanfiiction #f1 drivers x reader #f1 drivers #andrea kimi antonelli x reader #kimi antonelli x reader #kimi antonelli #andrea kimi antonelli #ka12 #f1 #f2

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adragonprinceswhore · 3 months ago

Text

Rumours

Aemond Targaryen x (Ex)Wife

Chapter II: Go Your Own Way 🎼 Masterlist

Summary: Aemond's written another song about your separation, and it becomes clear to you that he'll do anything to make you suffer.

Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, angst, toxic relationship dynamic, depictions of anxiety, smut, oral (f receiving), facesitting, phone sex, description of naughty videos

Word count: 3600 A/N: Thank you so much lovely Justine for looking this over for me @theoneeyedprince ♡

‘DRAGONSTONE: VIBRANT START OF TOUR FOR DRAGON DREAMERS’

Eyes glued to the screen of your phone, you absentmindedly sip your cup of tea, newly awake and curled up on a puffy armchair in your hotel room.

Life on the road proves to be draining. You still feel exhausted from having to fly from Dragonstone to your current location, Gulltown, right after the show, currently operating on merely 4 hours of sleep.

You had told yourself that you wouldn’t check reviews from your opening night before you felt ready to deal with all possible speculations of your and Aemond’s divorce.

You know that the concert had been fantastic, the audience demanded two encores and you left the venue with a sore throat and an unquenchable thirst for more. There’s nothing as exhilarating as the high you feel after a live show.

Still, you couldn’t fight the urge to google reviews, curiosity getting the best of you.

‘Tensions were high as Dragon Dreamers entered the nearly full venue on Dragonstone last night. Kicking off with a song from their new album, The Chain, devoted fans are quick to speculate whether guitarist Aemond Targaryen wrote it to-’

You can’t bring yourself to continue, knowing that whatever they’d written would only leave you feeling melancholic. You need all the energy you can muster, which means torturing yourself reading about your divorce isn’t a good idea.

As you’re about to put your phone down, it lights up with Helaena’s name.

“Are you okay, love? We’ve been waiting for 10 minutes”, she asks, voice sounding a bit strained.

A meek “What?” is all you manage to get out. You were supposed to meet up in an hour, not now.

“The press? We’ve got 5 interviews lined up and need to leave now. Didn’t Tyland tell you about the change in schedule?”

No.

And you have a feeling that it isn’t Tyland who’ll be delighted when you show up smelling of sweat from yesterday's gig, with your hair in tangles and face fatigued.

“Sorry, Hel. I’ll be there as soon as I can, give me five minutes”

No shower.

No hair.

No makeup.

Great.

In haste, you throw on a pair of jeans, a burgundy top and messily apply some blush and mascara, hoping it’ll distract from the bags under your eyes. You throw one last glance at your reflection before heading down.

You look exactly like you feel,

Shit.

You try your best to not let your cheery facade crack, smiling brightly at the journalists as they ask you about yesterday’s show and the ongoing tour.

No one dares to ask about your personal lives, something you find yourself feeling immensely grateful for.

Three interviews down, two to go.

You throw a quick glance at Aemond. You’d been careful to sit on his blind side so you wouldn’t have to feel the searing sensation of him staring you down. Observing him in secret still burns though.

You know he won’t move quickly enough for you to get caught. After the accident that left him blind in one eye, he always moved slowly. His blind eye has a tendency to lag slightly, not always looking in the same direction as his seeing eye. Self-conscious and afraid of being awarded the epithet ‘lazy eye’ on top of ‘one eye’, he’s trained his body to always move slowly, giving his blind eye a chance to keep up.

The next interviewer enters the small room you’ve been assigned, donning a wide smile as she makes her way to the chair in front of the two sofas where you and your bandmates are seated.

After quickly introducing herself and the magazine she works for, Harrentown Underground, she jumps straight to the questions, asking you how yesterday’s gig felt and what fans should expect from the upcoming tour.

As she talks, her gaze is trained on Aemond, nodding and smiling brightly when he answers.

Her eyes narrow slightly as she purses her lips together, visibly tensing up as she asks,

“Has the recent, um, changes in your personal life aided your creative process?”

The tension in the room grows as Aemond stays silent despite the journalist looking solely at him. You’d asked management to let the journalists know that you wouldn’t be taking any questions about your personal lives. She either doesn’t know or doesn’t care; you can’t make out which it is.

Aemond finally breaks the silence,

“Yes. I guess so”

“Many fans online suspect the new song you performed yesterday is about your failed marriage, is that correct?”, she continues, completely ignoring you and the other band members as she looks up from her notepad, meeting Aemond’s eye.

He’s completely still as he regards her, taking time to answer so that the awkward atmosphere of the room lingers.

“It is”, he finally admits, catching you by surprise. He’d always been so reserved; never wanting to let the public in on his private life.

The journalist gives Aemond a sympathetic look, nodding as she replies,

“Heartache really fuels the creative process, is that it?”

Aemond lets out a detached hum,

“I’m not one to go back on my promises. I value loyalty. The song is about when promises are broken”

Helaena has started to pick at her nail beds next to you. On your other side you feel Jace straighten up, eyes cast down to inspect the floor with newfound interest.

Nobody wants to say anything; nobody wants to continue this conversation. Except for the journalist, who nods in understanding as she scribbles on her notepad.

“It must be hard, being left by your partner”, she says, throwing a brief, disapproving look your way, “Have you had time to process it all?”

She is clearly not interested in speaking to anyone else in the band. She regards Aemond as if they are the only two in the room. It feels so belittling, being talked about like you’re not even present.

“Hmm. Betrayal takes time to recover from”, he replies curtly, sounding cold and harsh.

You feel your throat close up, eyesight going blurry as you take in his words.

Betrayal?

You try to the best of your ability to not let any tears escape down your cheeks, tilting your head slightly backwards as you take a deep, quiet breath.

You will not cause a scene.

You will not give him the satisfaction of knowing that his words got to you.

You will not give him what he wants.

As soon as the journalist from Harrentown Underground leaves and Tyland tells you to take a break, you make your way to the bathroom in quick steps.

You rush inside a booth, quickly locking the door before you fall down on the toilet seat, hand over your mouth in an attempt to muffle your wailing as you begin to cry heavily, sobs ripping through your body in angry waves, and tears pouring down your cheeks.

He’s such a fucking prick.

He knows exactly what buttons to push to upset you. He also knows exactly how to do it in front of others, without them knowing of the quiet war being fought between the two of you. If that journalist knew the full story of what led to your divorce, would she still pity poor Aemond?

You cry hard, trying to release some of the frustration built up inside. After a couple of minutes, the tears start to lessen and you roll out some toilet paper, patting it over your soaked face before throwing it in the toilet.

You exit the booth and move to stand in front of the mirror.

Seeing your reflection makes you feel worse. Your hair is frizzy from the way you tossed in bed, your mascara has run down your cheeks in black streaks, and your eyes are puffy and red.

You sigh in surrender, pulling out a concealer from your purse and patting some under your eye to hide the smudged blackness and swollen skin.

If strength was measured by resilience, you’d be a warrior. You wouldn’t let Aemond’s attempts at hurting you hinder you. He’d already controlled your life when you were married. He wasn’t going to continue to restrict you now.

The last interview is with a journalist from King’s Landing Weekly, and you remember meeting him last year when you’d just released your first album.

He’s a true music nerd, always asking insightful questions about your inspirations, what you want to convey, how you went about the recording process.

“How has recording been this time around?”, the journalist asks, oblivious to the fact that you’d spent most time alone in the studio, recording your parts separately.

“It’s been interesting. Production has taken longer than we anticipated, but we’ve got some real bangers we’re eager to share with our fans”, Jace answers with a smile, going on to reveal that you’ll perform some of the new songs during your tour.

You think back to when you recorded your first album, spending almost every waking hour in the studio with your bandmates.

Well, mostly with Aemond.

The nostalgic past when you were madly in love. It seems so distant now.

On your knees, you hover over Aemond’s face. His nose repeatedly brushes against your clit as his tongue moves in and out of you. He’s lying on his back on the dirty floor of the studio, his arms locked around your thighs, and his hands grip your hips tightly.

You’re so close to breaking. So close.

Hands resting on your thighs to keep yourself upright, you let your hips rock in tandem with Aemond’s tongue as it fucks you. And when your orgasm crashes over you, one hand moves to his hair, grabbing it harshly as you moan his name.

Unabashedly, you cry out in pleasure before stilling. Breathing heavily, your mind feels delightfully empty in the bliss-filled aftermath of your peak.

As you move to get up, Aemond’s grip on your hips tighten, focing you to stay put as he continues his assault on your cunt. You moan, half in pleasure, half in pain, from how his nose brushes against your over sensitive clit, sending jolts of stinging delight through your body.

“Aem, I can’t-”, you weakly protest as he brings his tongue up to your clit, gently swiping over it.

His voice is muffled underneath you as he replies, “Yes you can”

His hands push your hips to forcefully rock your body against his face once more, and you feel the stinging between your legs morph into fierce pleasure, consuming your senses.

You had tried to keep yourself up slightly to not place all your weight on Aemond’s face, but you slowly lose control over your body and slump down against his face as a second orgasm approaches.

Satisfied at your defeat, Aemond moves one hand down to your entrance and pushes two fingers inside at once, stretching your slippery hole. You gasp, and when his fingers find your g-spot, you moan without inhibition.

“Fu-, k-”, you sigh, voice strained.

Your hands hold on to the edge of the desk in front of you, head thrown back. Aemond’s fingers continue to move in and out of you in calculated strokes as his tongue determinedly massages your clit, and when he closes his lips around your bundle of nerves and suck, you come for the second time; the edge of your vision going black from the intensity.

Your body jerks uncontrollably as you gasp and sigh and moan.

After your body’s stopped twitching, Aemond’s face pokes out from beneath you, covered in your slick. You’re still breathing heavily, trying to regain your posture and stand, but he tugs you down to the ground and places you in his arms.

“Go on, pretty girl. Clean me up”, he whispers into your ear. You oblige with a smile, kissing away all the remnants of your arousal on his face, revelling in the taste of you on his skin.

You wish your mind wouldn’t go there whenever you think about the last time you were in the studio together. You wish it wouldn’t drift to the happy memories.

They hurt the most.

Leaving someone you still love is so much harder than leaving someone you don’t. You have to continually remind yourself of what a toxic husband he could be. Of how unfair, and controlling, and dangerous he could be.

In fact, you didn’t really need to remind yourself; Aemond was fully capable of acting horrible on his own.

As the journalist from King’s Landing Weekly wraps up the last interview of the day, he stands and thanks you all for your time.

He stretches out his hand and offers each member a handshake. When he reaches you, he holds onto your hand as he gleefully states, “I truly hope we get to hear one of your new songs soon. The emotions you put into song-making is truly something else”

You smile back at him and squeeze his hand, assuring him that you’ll perform a new song soon.

Behind you, Aemond clears his throat a bit too loudly for it to seem unintentional. He stands up, prompting the reporter to move to shake Jace’s hand next to you before leaving.

All you can think about is getting back to your hotel room, take a long-overdue shower, and a much-needed nap.

You make your way out of the conference room, but before you can leave, a large hand gently tugs at your shoulder, stopping you.

You turn around to face Aemond, who gives your form a once-over,

“Are you doing okay? You look a bit, hm, disoriented”

If he is trying to sound caring he’s failing miserably. His tone is condescending, nearly mocking.

“I’m fine”, you reply, jaw shut tight and annoyance tinting your voice “No one told me about the sudden change in schedule”

You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?

He nods curtly, “Alright. I’d like to perform a new song tonight, you did back-ups on it in recording; ‘Go your own way’. Would that be okay with you?”

The forced, nice pretence he’s trying to uphold doesn’t fool you for a second, you can hear how he’s holding himself back as he speaks.

“Of course”, you reply shortly.

Why is he asking for permission?

You turn and move towards the door, eager to retreat to your room. Aemond stays put behind you, voice a little more urgent than before as he adds,

“My girlfriend will come to tonight's gig, if you don’t mind?”

You sigh as you turn the handle of the door,

“Why would I mind?”

You do mind.

It feels so wrong to see Alys sit on Aemond’s lap backstage as he whispers something in her ear. It almost feels perverse, seeing your husband with someone else. Like they’re committing a sin.

Still, you say nothing. Instead, you stubbornly refuse to look their way, focusing on helping Helaena with her eyeshadow at the other end of the room.

You can’t help but ponder their dynamic.

Is he as possessive of her as he had been over you?

Is he as insatiable?

Like the time he demanded you record when you touch yourself, instructing you to place your phone on your stomach so he could hear just how wet you were as your fingers slip inside and you moan his name.

That was back when he was still working for his grandfather’s company, and he’d occasionally go away on business trips. He’d call you around midnight every night.

“What would you do if I were there?”

You hear him breathe heavily. His voice is strained and the distant sounds of him stroking his cock echo in the background.

“I’d climb on your lap and beg you to fuck me. Beg you to let me ride you”.

Aemond groans.

“And then?”

“I’d beg you to suck on my tits as I bounce up, ah-, and down”

You’re so close, forcefully letting your fingers push at your g-spot while the palm of your hand presses at your clit. You know he’s close too by the sounds of his breath hitching and the way he’s swearing under his breath, mumbling “I can’t wait to sink my cock into you”

Or the videos he had on his phone of you. God, did he keep those? You know his favourite had been the one where you’re seen kneeling in front of him, tongue sticking out of your mouth as he coats your face with his cum, asking you who you belong to, who’s little slut you are.

“Only yours, Aemond. Always yours”

You shiver at the memory. Hopefully Alys had gone through his phone and deleted any and all trace of you.

You do some vocal warm-ups with Helaena, restless nerves bubbling inside you as you wait backstage to soon enter the stage.

Wiping some sweat from your palms onto the jeans you’re wearing, you internally remind yourself of the fact that you’d done an incredible show yesterday, and today would be just as good.

You know that your band will deliver. You always do. Even Erryk, being a new addition, has proven to be a great drummer and teamplayer, possessing both the stamina and skills needed to thrive in Dragon Dreamers.

You hear the crowd chanting, mood just as elevated as it had been the day before on Dragonstone. As you go over the set list for the night, Aemond suggests you start with ‘The Chain’, like you did yesterday, and end with his new song, ‘Go your own way’.

Although you’d recorded backups for the song, you hadn’t listened to the entirety of it in the studio.

Somewhere inside, you know that the song is about you. About the divorce. You remember singing,

‘You can go your own way’

‘You can call it another lonely day’

Anxiety grows within you as you think of having to listen to the entire song. You’d put it off in the studio, never feeling mentally prepared to hear Aemond’s thoughts on how you’ve ‘wronged’ him.

And now you’ll have to hear it for the first time in public. In front of an audience.

You can do this.

Just breathe. In. Hold three seconds. Out. Hold three seconds.

Your breathing is laboured, body vibrating from the excitement of performing. This truly is where you thrive; where you feel your best.

Where you can contribute something to the world.

Make people happy.

You look down at the fans beaming up at you, howling in excitement as they demand another song.

“Here’s a new song from our upcoming album”, Aemond starts, the crowd cheering louder.

This is it. The anxiety you’d felt about hearing Aemond’s new song still buzzes within you, but you won’t let that hinder you from giving this song your all as well. You won’t let him intimidate you.

The song is fast-paced, and Aemond’s fingers quickly pluck the strings of his guitar as he starts to sing,

‘Loving you isn’t the right thing to do’

‘How can I ever change things that I feel?’

‘If I could, baby, I’d give you my world’

‘How can I when you won’t take it from me?’

He was so intent on playing the victim it was almost laughable. Ignoring his own wrong-doings; his part in your separation. He was suffering; left to bleed out from the knife you’d stabbed in his back.

Fuck that.

He’d driven you away with his obsessive behaviour and anger issues. But that was not the story he wanted to tell.

‘You can go your own way’

‘Go your own way’

‘You can call it another lonely day’

‘Another lonely day’

As he sings his solo lines, Aemond stares you down.

His seeing eye bores into you with a fire you’d hardly seen before. It’s a stark contrast from his damaged eye; the white mist covering it making it appear calm, almost gentle.

He’s found a way to yell at you in public, berating you for leaving him in front of the entire world, without causing a scene. That’s why he’d been so set on appearing civil with you around others. He wants to break you.

‘Open up, everything’s waiting for you’

Just like yesterday, he sounds uncharacteristically passionate as he sings, much angrier than usual. He basically spits the words at you; ‘go your own way’, ‘everything’s waiting for you’

You can’t keep eye contact with him for long, his gaze too scorching.

Why is he suddenly so intimidating?

You try to remind yourself of the fact that you were married mere months ago.

You know him. He’s still Aemond. Your Aemond.

Or is he? The man staring at you on stage feels far removed from the person you married two years ago.

As Aemond starts to play his guitar solo, he leaves his microphone, furious eye never leaving you as he approaches you; more akin to a predator than a man.

You hear the crowd cheer.

He doesn’t have to look at his guitar as his skillful fingers effortlessly play the climatic guitar solo. He’s treating his instrument like he’s angry at it, harshly plucking at the strings in the most violent manner. He comes up to stand right by you, between you and the audience. You’re forced to face him. To meet his eye.

The crowd cheers louder and louder.

His expression is stoic, eye unblinking as he assaults the strings of his guitar.

Never looking down.

Only at you.

Thank you for reading!

#aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #aemond x you #my fics #rumours #Spotify

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wuishu · 5 months ago

Text

Hamzah the fantastic yapping about his girlfriend: compilation

Not a lot of people know about Hamzah’s relationship, but once he has a chance to talk about you, he will not shy away from talking about you. Fans could not help but make videos of them as tiktok clips or compilation videos on youtube.

There is no denying that he is head over heels for you, but some moments top others. The most popular one was a YouTube compilation named “Hamzah Being in Love: compilation”

The first clip was in an OOC podcast, where they talk about the most efficient thing: buying food outside or cooking food at home.

“No, 'cause my girlfriend always cooks food for us,” Hamzah says, as he's holding his mic, and Martin nods “I guess cooking food is good.”

“Of course, when you have a great cook at home.”

Martin smiles as he can see Hamzah being passionate about this topic, “I’ll give you and Mandy some of Y/n amazing cooking. If there's any left, though.”

“Cause sometimes I just finish them all,” he replied, “One of the best foods I've eaten was made by Y/n, God, now I'm missing her cooking.”

“I miss you, babe,” he said, looking at the camera as Martin laughed, folding like a plastic chair. Hamzah smiling.

The second clip was of Fortnite gameplay in the slushy noobz youtube channel. They were playing the game, and when Hamzah could hear the door slowly swing open, his gaze was on the door. He sees his girlfriend slowly trying to find something.

He could hear Martin trying to get a backup while he gets tag teamed, “Hi, what are you trying to find?” Hamzah said, as his Fortnite character was on all fours, leaving Martin defending himself

“Dude?!”

“I got it.” Your voice wasn't loud, but it was loud enough to pick up from the mic, “Okay, I love you,” Hamzah said, Martin clutched the three v one fight, and he sighed loudly, snapping Hamzah out of his long stare

“Dude, what happened?” he said. Martin's face turned sour as he scratched his head, indicating he was irritated. “You are what happened.”

The next one was one of Hamzah’s old livestreams, where he was just talking to his chat, trying to pass the time. He got a donation asking what he would do this weekend

“Ahh, well, I'm gonna hang out with my girlfriend since she will be coming back to her hometown. Might as well show her around until she has to leave.” people are curious, asking if they can see her.

He wasn't hesitant and called you on the phone, “baby, people want to see you; can you come here?” and without a minute, you can see his girlfriend popping, waving to chat as a greeting

You can see the messages scrolling quickly as they compliment you. You smiled, “There she is, my beautiful other half.”

The next clip shown was Martin and Hamzah playing FNAF, It was getting dark, and they didn't know how many hours they wasted while they played the game.

Hamzah showed his phone to show what time it was, and his wallpaper was you standing up, flash on while you were holding his hand, “It’s 9:45, I'm getting sick of this game”

Martin nodded but continued to control and run. “If they keep doing this to us, then… developers. Get ready for my fist.”

He sighed as he shifted in his seat to get comfortable. He kissed his phone screen as Martin looked at his antics and asked, “What was that?”

“Missing her right now-” and suddenly got jump scared by Monty; they jumped out of their seats. They nervously laugh.

The video transitioned to another OOC podcast clip, but instead of just Martin and Hamzah, you and Mandy were in it. You were sitting next to Hamzah, and Mandy was sitting next to Martin, so they were still in the frame. Since they didn't expect you to join them, you shared the microphone with Hamzah.

The four were talking about who always wakes up early in the morning and how late one wakes up. “Sometimes I wake her up since she works at dentistry so she gotta be extra early, and I cook her food because she always says she doesn't like the food near their clinic.”

He handed the microphone to you and said, “Yeah, 'cause the food there just doesn't hit right like you're cooking.”

“You like my cooking?” he curiously said, as you nodded and got the microphone, “Of course, I especially like the notes you put on my lunchbox. Always a cliché quote like ‘love you to the moon and back’ or ‘I think you're tooth cute’ and it's so cute.”

He grinned and looked at you. “Glad you like them.”

“Isn't it funny how both of our girlfriends are health professionals, while we are… just influencers?” Martin said as he was racking his brain up.

The last clip was another bake-off, and you finally cave into their pleas to be there, and for the first time, the place they use is in Hamzah's kitchen.

The measuring cup and ingredients were on the island table, big bowls were laid as they were mixing their batter, and you pre-heated the oven.

“You don't have to over-mix it, Martin. Now you won't have stiff peaks!” you said as you looked at Martin’s bowl. He was making meringue for his spin-off lemon meringue pie but instead of lemon, it was a simple blueberry pie with meringue.

“I’m sorry! I did not know!” He said as he raised both his hands like he was at gunpoint. Hamzah noticed your face was sweating, and your hair was sticking to it. He grabbed a piece of tissue paper and wiped your face while you were talking to Martin.

“Yeah, I need that cinnamon.” You knead your dough for the cinnamon rolls you were going to make. Hamzah decided to pull you away from the table so that he could tie your hair.

“Hold still,” you said, lowering a bit so he could tie your hair properly. “Thank you, babe”

You kissed his cheek, leaving your preferred glossy lip tint print on his face. He smiled like he had won the lottery. “You're welcome!”

“Now I feel like I'm the third wheel right now, jeez,” Martin pipped, as you smiled and continued to knead the dough. “You do this all the time, Hamzah?”

“Yeah, when we do it in the back-” the clip cut off, and they continued to do what they were doing. Let's just say that Hamzah did not wipe his face for the entire video.

(I'M BACK! I love Hamzah sm, and I'd totally do a part two of this if ya'll guys want!!)

#hamzah x reader #hamzahthefantastic x reader #hamzah x y/n #hamzahthefantastic #hamzah imagines

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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 10 months ago

Text

Mom, I am a rich man || Tom Blyth x gf!reader

Summary: Fans have always speculated that Tom was dating someone until he confirmed it in an interview. After digging through Tom’s socials, fans stumble upon you, a Yale law student.

Warnings: fem!reader

Wc: 341

A/n: anyone studying law atm? 🙋‍♀️ ALSO THANK U SM FOR 6K AHHH THATS INSANE!!!

Divider by @pommecita

“I did it!” You slightly furrow your eyebrows at the text message your boyfriend sent you before clicking onto the link that he sent. It was a 2 minute interview that he did while at one of the premieres for his hunger games movie.

Tom looked insanely good in his tailored suit, exuding confidence as he engages with the interviewer. Cameras flashed around him, capturing the glamour of the event, and you couldn’t help but smile, feeling a sense of pride for your boyfriend.

The interviewer, a charismatic host with an air of familiarity, turns his attention to Tom, eager to delve into the behind-the-scenes of the blockbuster. “Tom, how was the filming process for ‘The Hunger Games’?” She’s asks, a glint of curiosity in her eyes.

Tom smiles, his eyes gleaming with enthusiasm. “Oh, it was fantastic. The whole cast and crew brought so much energy to the project. But what made it truly special was having my family here. They visited during filming, and even my girlfriend, who took some time off uni to be with me. I greatly appreciated that.”

Your heart swells with warmth at his words. Tom, ever the supportive partner, acknowledges your sacrifice and commitment to being by his side during this whirlwind experience.

Your 2 months in Berlin with Tom was a great opportunity to take a break from all your uni work, and of course, spend some much needed time with your boyfriend. The revelation that he has a girlfriend elicits a gasp from the woman interviewing him.

That video goes viral on the internet. With Tom’s fans searching the internet for anything that could lead them to finding out who Tom’s girlfriend is.

With hard digging, fans discover your insta page. Your posts containing photos of your life as a law student at Yale and fans were pleasantly surprised to find never seen before photos of Tom that you’ve posted.

y/n_y/l/n just posted a story!

y/n_y/l/n

Liked by tomblyth and 2,941 others

this months dump!

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yourfriendsusername: 😍😍

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: ily!

yourfriendsusername: uh oh, ur getting famous…. remember me pls!

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: sorry, who are you 😂

user1: omg so this is Tom’s gf? SHES GORGEOUS

user2: damn she’s hella smart huh?

↘️ user3: DUH SHES IN YALE

user4: eh, she’s mid

↘️ user5: studying at one of the ivy league’s is far from being mid lol 😭

user6: she’s been posting him for so long now, how have we only just found this out 😂

user7: so she’s pretty, she’s smart, and she’s bagged Tom Blyth? Damn girl. Teach us ur ways!

user8: THE LAST PICTURE AWEE

user9: the bouquet behind his back- the way she’s looking at him- my single heart cannot 😭✋

user10: studying in Yale is such a flex oml. And studying law too? Imagine being able to say, yeah my mom’s a lawyers. COULD NEVER BE ME. 😃

tomblyth

Liked by y/n_y/l/n, rachelzegler, phoebedynevor, tomblythupdates and 8,307,163 others

yeah my girlfriend is cooler than me.

view all comments

y/n_y/l/n: Alexa, play brooklyn baby by Lana Del Rey 😁

↘️ tomblyth: volume up Alexa!

rachelzegler: y/n’s side eye 🙈

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: 👀👀

↘️ tomblyth: side eyed me the whole damn time

user1: HE FINALLY POSTED HER!

user2: can’t wait for more gf appreciation posts 😆

user3: what’s a uni student doing dating an actor like Tom Blyth?

user4: first pic. sleeping on the road tn.

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: pls don’t 🙏

↘️ user5: AHH SHE REPLIED TO YOU

↘️ user6: UR SO LUCKY TO CALL TOM UR MAN.

↘️ user7: nah, he’s actually my man.

user8: crying. screaming. throwing up.

user9: it’s happening 😭 Tom finally posting about his gf

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natsaffection · 3 months ago

Note

I have a platonic, non smut request if you’re down! Nat x fem!reader, they’re a couple and live in a neighborhood w a girl who’s young (5 or smth) . The girl is sweet and has lemonade stands in front of her house n stuff so that’s how nat and reader interact w her. One day, the girl runs to nat and reader’s house, banging on the door begging to be let in because her mom’s boyfriend beat her up or was threatening to. Nat and reader let her in immediately and go into protection mode, even when the bf starts spitting lies, blaming the girl.

This was inspired by a video I saw where a neighbor was protecting a girl and thought it would work perfectly w nat given her own red room history n stuff. I feel like she would tolerate no BS. I know this is very different from what u normally write so I hope it’s ok 🫶

Through Darkness | N.R

Warnings: Domestic Violants, Threatening to hurt a child, mentioned of Bruises, Happy end!!

Word count: 5,4k

A/n: That was the sweetest thing I've ever written. But I needed help, so I watched We Bought a Zoo with Scarlett while I was writing.🫂

Natasha leaned against the kitchen counter, drinking a glass of water. Her sharp eyes watched you as you bustled around the kitchen, preparing dinner. The scent of fresh basil and tomatoes filled the room, making the house feel even more like a home. It had been a few months since they moved into this quiet neighborhood. After everything Natasha had been through, the chaos and destruction, the idea of a peaceful life seemed foreign to her. But here, with you by her side, she began to understand what peace could feel like.

“Dinner’s almost ready!” you said, looking up from the pot you were stirring. Your smile was one Natasha had grown fond of. Warm, welcoming, and full of love. It was a smile that made Natasha’s heart ache with how much you meant to her. She smiled back, setting down her glass and moving to stand next to you. “It smells fantastic. You always manage to make something special out of so little.”

You chuckled softly. “Years of practice. Plus, I had to learn to keep up with you.” Before Natasha could respond, a high-pitched voice outside caught her attention. “Lemonade! Fresh lemonade! Only fifty cents a cup!”

Both of you turned to the window that overlooked the front yard. There, on the sidewalk across the street, stood a little girl, no older than five. Her brown curls bounced as she enthusiastically waved a homemade sign. Next to her was a small table with a pitcher of lemonade and a few paper cups. You smiled affectionately. “She’s out there almost every day. Have you seen her?” Natasha nodded. “Yes, I’ve noticed her a few times. Sweet kid.”

“Let’s go say hello.” you suggested, already wiping your hands on a dish towel. “And maybe grab some lemonade.” Natasha hesitated for a moment, but the gentle encouragement in your eyes was enough. “Alright.” she agreed with a smile.

Together, you left the house and crossed the street. The little girl’s face lit up as she saw you approaching. “Hi!” she called out cheerfully, her brown eyes sparkling with excitement. “Do you want some lemonade?” You knelt down to her level, your smile gentle. “We’d love some. What’s your name, little one?”

“I’m Lily!” the girl said proudly, carefully pouring lemonade into two cups. Natasha handed her a dollar bill. “Keep the change, Lily.” Her eyes widened, and she beamed at Natasha. “Thank you! My mom says it’s important to save money, and I want to buy a new doll.”

“That’s a great goal.” you said, taking a cup from Lily. “I’m Y/n, and this is Natasha. We live right across the street.”

“Are you married?” Lily asked innocently, and her question caught Natasha off guard. You laughed softly and glanced at Natasha. “Not yet, but maybe one day.” Natasha felt a warmth spread through her chest at your words. She had never thought about marriage before, but the idea didn’t seem so far-fetched now.

Lily nodded seriously, as if your answer made perfect sense. “You should be. You’re both really nice.” Natasha and you exchanged a look, both touched by the child’s innocent wisdom. You stayed with Lily for a few more minutes, chatting about her lemonade business and the dolls she wanted to buy. Natasha found herself relaxing more than she had in weeks, and the simple joy of the moment eased some of the tension she had been carrying.

As you said your goodbyes and headed back to your house, you took Natasha’s hand and intertwined your fingers. “She’s sweet, isn’t she?” Natasha nodded. “Yes, she is. She reminds me that there’s good in the world.” You squeezed her hand gently. “And that’s exactly what we’re fighting for.” Natasha smiled, feeling a sense of peace spread through her. In this quiet neighborhood, with you by her side and a little girl selling lemonade, she realized that maybe, just maybe, she had found a place where she truly belonged.

The days settled into a pleasant rhythm. Natasha and you looked forward to the moments when you would see Lily, her bright smile and cheerful energy a welcome addition to your lives. Often, you would stop by her lemonade stand, sometimes just to chat, and other times to enjoy the simple pleasure of a cold drink on a warm day.

One Saturday afternoon, you decided to take a walk through the nearby park. The sun was high in the sky, casting a warm light over the tree-lined paths. The scent of blooming flowers filled the air, and the laughter of children echoed from a nearby playground. As you walked hand in hand, Natasha noticed a familiar figure in the distance. Lily was skipping along the path, holding hands with a woman who must have been her mother. The woman was tall and slender, with the same brown curls as Lily, though hers were tied up in a loose bun. She had a kind face, but Natasha couldn’t miss the weariness in her eyes.

You waved to them, and Lily’s face lit up when she recognized you. “Natasha! Y/N!” she called, pulling her mother along behind her. Natasha and you smiled as you approached, exchanging a warm greeting with the little girl. Lily’s mother smiled politely, but there was a slight tension in her posture, as if she were carrying a burden no one else could see. “Hello.” you said kindly. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Y/n, and this is Natasha.”

The woman nodded, a small, somewhat forced smile on her lips. “I’m Rachel. Lily talks about you two all the time. She’s always excited to see you.” Lily beamed up at her mother. “They’re my best customers!”

Natasha laughed, kneeling down to Lily’s level. “And you’re our favorite lemonade seller.” Lily giggled, clearly pleased with the attention. As Natasha stood back up, she noticed Rachel’s gaze flick nervously over her shoulder. She followed Rachel’s eyes and saw a man standing a few steps away, his hands deep in his pockets, watching them. He was tall and broad shouldered, his expression unreadable, but something about the way he looked at Rachel made Natasha uneasy.

Rachel’s smile faltered a little, and she quickly looked back at you and Natasha. “That’s Mark, my.. boyfriend." she said, her voice a little strained. Mark nodded in greeting, but his eyes never left Rachel. Natasha felt a wave of discomfort rising in her. She had spent years honing her instincts, learning to pick up on the smallest signs of danger, and right now, every instinct was telling her that something was off.

You, always attuned to Natasha’s moods, noticed the subtle shift in her posture. You glanced at her questioningly, but she gave a barely perceptible shake of her head. Not here, not now. “Are you headed to the playground?” you asked in a light, casual tone, trying to diffuse the tension. Rachel nodded, her grip on Lily’s hand tightening. “Yes, Lily loves the playground. We try to come on weekends.”

“That’s great..” you replied, smiling at Lily. “Maybe we’ll see you around more often.” Lily looked up at her mother eagerly. “Can we play with them, Mama? Please?” she asked, her eyes hopeful as she gazed at her Mama. But she hesitated, casting a nervous glance at Mark, who only gave a slight nod of his head. “Maybe another time, sweetheart. We need to head home soon.”

Lily pouted a little but didn’t argue, sensing her mother’s unease. “Okay…” she said softly. Natasha’s heart ached at the sight of the disappointed little girl. She wanted to ask Rachel if everything was okay, if there was anything they could do to help, but she knew better than to push. Instead, she gave Lily a reassuring smile. “We’ll see you soon, okay?” Lily nodded, her smile returning, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Okay! Bye, Natasha! Bye, Y/N!”

“Goodbye!” you called as you parted ways and continued down the path. As you walked further along the trail, Natasha’s thoughts kept circling back to what she had just witnessed. Something wasn’t right about the whole encounter, especially in the way Rachel and Mark interacted. It wasn’t just protectiveness or possessiveness in Mark’s eyes..there was something darker, something that set off alarm bells in Natasha’s mind.

You gently squeezed Natasha’s hand, pulling her out of her thoughts. “What’s wrong?” you asked quietly, your voice filled with concern. Natasha cast one last glance back in the direction where Rachel, Lily, and Mark had disappeared. “I’m not sure..” she said softly. “But I’m going to find out.”

You nodded, trusting Natasha’s instincts implicitly. “Do you think she’s in trouble?” Natasha didn’t answer right away. She was trying to piece together the puzzle in her head, figuring out what exactly had triggered her discomfort. “Maybe..” she finally said. “Or maybe I’m just being paranoid. But I can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong.”

You frowned, your worry growing. “If you think something’s wrong, we should do something. We can’t just ignore it.” Natasha nodded, her jaw setting in determination. “We won’t. But we have to be careful. If there’s really something going on, we don’t want to make it worse.” As you continued your walk, the warmth of the sun on your back, Natasha’s thoughts kept returning to Rachel and Lily. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the peace they had found in this quiet neighborhood was more fragile than it seemed. And if something threatened that peace, Natasha was ready to do whatever it took to protect the people she cared about.

The night was quiet and still, with the moon casting a soft, silver glow over the neighborhood. Natasha and you slept peacefully in your bed, your bodies nestled close together, the gentle sound of your breathing the only noise in the room. The calm of the night seemed to envelop you, offering a rare moment of complete tranquility.

But that peace was abruptly shattered by frantic knocking at the front door. Natasha was the first to stir, her finely tuned instincts kicking in immediately. In an instant, she was out of bed, pulling on a shirt as she moved, her senses on high alert. You were awake a second later, your heart racing at the sound.

“Natasha?” you called softly as you quickly threw something on as well. “Stay here,” Natasha instructed, but you followed her downstairs anyway.

The knocking at the door grew more desperate, and Natasha felt a cold fear settling in her stomach. She motioned for you to stay back as she approached the door, but the moment she heard the sobbing of a child, all caution was forgotten. She flung the door open to find Lily standing there, her face streaked with tears, her small body trembling in the cool night air.

“Lily!” you exclaimed in shock, immediately kneeling down to be at eye level with the girl. “Sweetheart, what happened? Why are you out here?” Lily looked up at you, her lip quivering, but she said nothing. She shook her head and took a small step back, as if afraid to enter the house.

Natasha’s heart broke at the sight of the terrified little girl. She knelt beside you, her voice gentle and calm. “Lily, it’s okay. You’re safe here. No one will hurt you.” But Lily’s eyes were still wide with fear, and she clung to her stuffed animal. She was trembling so much that she could barely stand.

You gently placed a hand on Lily’s arm. “You don’t have to be scared, Lily. You can tell us what happened. We just want to help.” For a moment, Lily seemed torn between her fear and her trust in the two of you. She glanced back at the dark street, her breath catching as if she were reliving whatever had driven her to your doorstep. Then, slowly, she took a hesitant step forward and allowed you to pull her into a warm embrace.

Lily buried her face in your shoulder, her small body shaking with silent sobs. “H-He was..he was so angry..?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Natasha exchanged a worried look with you, her protective instincts flaring. “Who was angry, Lily?” she asked gently, though she already had a sinking feeling in her stomach. Lily clung to you, her small hands gripping your shirt as if she were afraid to let go. She was crying so hard that she could barely breathe, her sobs coming in ragged gasps.

“Shh, it’s okay, sweetheart, it’s okay..” you murmured, your voice soft and soothing as you held Lily close. You look at Natasha and don't know exactly what to do now. Natasha quickly stepped outside, her eyes scanning the dark street, searching for any signs of danger, but the neighborhood was eerily still. She turned back to you and Lily, her heart breaking at the sight of the frightened little girl.

“Lily, sweetheart, who was angry? Can you tell us?” Lily’s sobs began to subside, though she was still trembling. She buried her face in your shoulder again, her voice muffled and broken. “H-He hit Mommy! He kept hitting her. She told him to stop, but he wouldn’t stop…” Your grip around Lily tightened protectively, tears shimmering in your eyes. “Do you mean your mom’s friend? You did the right thing coming here, Lily.”

Lily sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Yes..her friend, and I remembered you said I could always come to you..” Natasha felt a surge of anger and protectiveness like she had never felt before. The thought of someone hurting this sweet little girl or her mother was unbearable. But she knew she needed to stay calm for Lily’s sake. She closed the door behind her and knelt down again.

“You were so brave, Lily." Natasha said softly, her voice steady. “You did the right thing. You’re safe now, I promise.” The little girl trembled and buried her face in your shoulder again. “I want my mommy..II want her to be okay..” You rocked her gently, your heart breaking at the thought of a child so young having to endure such fear. “We’re going to make sure your mommy is okay. We’re going to help her, and we’re going to help you.”

Natasha and you exchanged a determined look. You both knew that action needed to be taken. Natasha placed a hand on Lily’s back, trying to soothe her. “Lily, I’m going to go check on your mommy, okay? Y/n will stay here with you.”

Lily looked up at you with big, frightened eyes and clung even tighter to you. “No! Please don’t go! He’s still there! He’ll hurt you too!” Before Natasha could respond, Lily’s eyes widened with new fear. She clutched at you and began to scream in high-pitched tones. Natasha froze as she heard the sound of heavy footsteps on the porch too. The sharp smell of alcohol was the first thing she noticed, and she knew immediately who it was.

Mark.

Your face paled as you glanced toward the door, and Natasha quickly analyzed the situation. "Y/n, take her upstairs. I’ll handle this." You lifted Lily into your arms, her small face buried in your neck. "Please be careful, Natasha.."

Natasha nodded, not taking her eyes off the door. “Go.” The little girl clung to you tightly as you hurried up the stairs. Natasha positioned herself between the door and the stairs, her heart pounding in her chest as she prepared for what was about to happen. The door was thrown open with such force that it slammed against the wall. Mark stumbled into the house, his face red with anger, his eyes bloodshot and wild. The smell of alcohol was overwhelming, and Natasha’s stomach churned at the sight of him.

“Where is she?!” Mark slurred, his voice dripping with rage. “Where’s that little brat? She’s the one to blame for all of this!!” His eyes narrowed as he charged toward Natasha, his fists swinging wildly. But Natasha was faster. She dodged his attack effortlessly, grabbed his arm, and twisted it behind his back in one fluid motion. Mark cried out in pain, but Natasha didn’t loosen her grip.

“Let me go, you bitch!” Mark bellowed, struggling to free his arm from her grasp, but Natasha held him with iron strength. “You’re not going to get near that girl again." Natasha hissed, her voice low and dangerous. “You’ve done enough damage.” Mark fought against her hold, but it was futile. Natasha easily forced him to the ground and held him there. She could feel his muscles tense under her grip, but she didn’t relent.

Upstairs, you quickly brought Lily into the guest room and gently set her on the bed. “Lily, it’s okay. You’re safe here, understand? I’ll make sure of it.” Lily was still trembling, her eyes wide with fear. “Will he hurt Natasha?”

“No," you said firmly, though the fear for Natasha grew within you. "Natasha is very strong, and she’ll make sure he can’t hurt anyone anymore. But I need to make a call, okay? We need to call the police so they can help us.” Lily nodded hesitantly, curling up with her stuffed animal. You quickly pulled out your phone and dialed 911, your voice trembling slightly as you explained the situation to the dispatcher.

Downstairs, Natasha was still holding Mark down on the floor, her mind racing. She knew she needed to get Rachel and Lily out of this situation permanently, but for now, Mark was the immediate threat. The sound of sirens in the distance brought a sense of relief. Help was on the way. Mark groaned beneath her, still struggling weakly. “You..you can’t do this!! Who do you think you are?!”

Natasha leaned closer to him, her voice a deadly whisper. “Oh, watch me.” Minutes later, two police officers burst into the house. Natasha stood up and released Mark, the officers immediately moving to restrain him. He was still shouting, hurling curses and threats, but Natasha felt nothing but disgust as they hauled him to his feet. “Are you alright?” one of the officers asked as they led Mark out of the house.

“I’m fine." Natasha replied coolly. “But you should check on the mother across the street. I think she’s in bad shape.” The officer nodded seriously. “We’ll take care of it. Thank you for stepping in.” Natasha watched as they led Mark out of the house and closed the door behind them. The house was suddenly quiet again, but the tension in the air remained palpable. Natasha took a deep breath to calm her nerves before heading upstairs.

When she reached the guest room, she found you sitting on the bed next to Lily. The little girl had finally calmed down and was no longer crying. The sight of the vulnerable and frightened child made Natasha’s heart ache, but she forced herself to smile gently as she approached. “It’s over." Natasha said softly. “He’s gone.”

Lily looked up at her, her eyes still wet with tears. “Is my mommy okay?” Natasha knelt beside the bed, her voice gentle and reassuring. "The police are going to check on your mommy and make sure she's okay. And we're going to help you and your mommy, Lily. We won't let anyone hurt you again."

Lily nodded slowly, a small spark of hope appearing in her eyes. "Promise?" Natasha reached out and softly wiped away a tear from Lily's cheek. "I promise."

You wrapped your arm around Lily and pulled her close. "You're safe now, sweetheart. We'll take care of everything." As Lily finally began to relax in your arms, Natasha felt a deep determination rising within her. This wasn't the end of the situation, but it was the first step. She was going to do everything in her power to protect Lily and Rachel, no matter what it took.

The paramedics had just treated Rachel’s injuries, and the police were finishing their reports. The once peaceful night was now filled with quiet, official conversations, and the flashing lights of the emergency vehicles cast an eerie glow through the windows. Lily sat on the sofa between Natasha and you, her small body still trembling, and her large eyes reflected a mixture of fear and confusion.

Rachel sat nearby, her face marked with bruises, and her expression was exhausted. The weight of the night’s events had drained her, but her entire focus was on Lily, who was like a beacon of strength for her. One of the police officers approached Rachel, his tone professional but gentle. “Mrs. Dawson, under the circumstances, protocol requires that we place your daughter in temporary foster care until you are able to care for her again.”

Rachel’s already pale face turned even whiter, and she immediately shook her head, panic flashing in her eyes. “No! No, please, she can’t go into foster care.. She’s been through enough. Please, don’t take her away from me!”

Lily looked up in alarm at the officer’s words, her wide, frightened eyes turning to her mother. “Mama..I don’t want to go..” Instinctively, you put your arm around Lily and pulled her closer to you. Natasha’s expression darkened as she sensed the rising fear in Rachel and Lily. The thought of Lily being taken away, even temporarily, was unthinkable to you both. Not after everything the little girl had already endured.

Rachel looked at Natasha and you with desperation, her voice trembling with emotion. “Please..she can stay with you, right? You live right across the street. She knows you, she feels safe with you..please, don’t let them take her away.” The officer hesitated, visibly torn. “Ma’am, I understand your concern, but the safety of the child is our top priority. We need to ensure that she’s in a stable environment while you recover.”

Natasha stood up, her stance determined as she stepped forward. “She is in a stable environment. Right here, with us.” Her voice was calm but firm, with the tone of someone who wasn’t used to being questioned. You nodded, equally resolute. “We live right across the street. We’re neighbors and friends, and Lily trusts us. We can take care of her while Rachel is in the hospital. You can check in on her anytime.”

The officer looked between Natasha and you, clearly aware of who you both were. He sighed, knowing this wasn’t an easy decision. “Are you sure you can take on this responsibility? It could be several days, maybe longer.”

Natasha didn’t hesitate. “We’re sure. We’ll make sure she’s safe, and she’ll be close to her mother. That’s what’s best for her.” Rachel’s eyes filled with tears of relief as she reached for Lily’s hand. “Please, Officer.. don’t take her away from me. I can’t bear it. She’s been through enough already.” The officer exchanged a look with his colleague, then back at Natasha and you. After a brief pause, he nodded. “Alright. We’ll allow it, but we’ll need to conduct regular checks to ensure everything is going smoothly.”

Natasha nodded. “Of course. We’ll cooperate fully.” The officer turned to Rachel. “We’ll take you to the hospital now, Mrs. Dawson. You need to focus on your recovery.” Rachel nodded, tears streaming down her face as she turned to Lily. “Sweetheart, you’ll stay with Natasha and Y/n for a little while, okay? They’ll take good care of you.”

Lily, still clutching her stuffed animal, looked up at her mother, her voice trembling. “But..I-I want to stay with you, Mama..”

Rachel’s heart broke at her daughter’s words, but she forced herself to smile despite the pain. “I know, darling. And I want to stay with you too. But I need to get better first, so I can be with you again. Natasha and Y/n will take care of you, and I’ll be very close by, okay?” Lily nodded slowly, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Okay..but promise me you’ll come back soon?”

Rachel’s voice cracked as she leaned down and kissed Lily’s forehead. “I promise, sweetheart. I’ll come back as soon as I can.” You gently took Lily’s hand in yours, your voice soft and reassuring. “Let’s go home, Lily. We’ll make you some hot chocolate and get you to bed, okay?” Lily nodded again, her small hand gripping yours tightly. She gave her mother one last look, and Rachel smiled encouragingly through her tears and nodded to her.

As the paramedics helped Rachel to her feet and escorted her out of the house, you and Natasha led Lily back across the street to your home. The little girl was quiet, her mind clearly processing everything that had happened. You carried her into the living room and set her on the sofa while Natasha locked the door and made sure the house was secure.

Inside, you knelt in front of Lily and gently wiped away a stray tear from her cheek. “You’re so brave, Lily. Your Mama is going to get better, and we’ll take care of you until then. You’re safe here with us.” Natasha sat down beside Lily on the sofa. “We’ll make sure you stay close to your Mommy, and we’ll visit her as soon as she’s feeling better. But for now, we’re here for you.”

Lily looked up at both of you, her eyes filled with a mix of sadness and trust. “Okay..but can we visit her tomorrow?” You smiled, your heart filled with love for the little girl. “We’ll try, sweetheart. Let’s get through the night first, and then we’ll see what we can do tomorrow.” Natasha gently stroked Lily’s hair, feeling a strong protective instinct for the child who had already been through so much. “We’re here for you, Lily. You’re not alone.”

In the quiet of the night, as Lily finally fell asleep in the next room, you and Natasha shared a silent moment of reflection. You had stepped into this role out of necessity, but now it felt like more. You were no longer just neighbors or friends; you were a family, brought together by circumstances and bound by love. And as long as you had each other, you knew you could face any challenges that lay ahead.

The visit to the hospital the next day went as well as could be hoped for in such a situation. Lily clung to her mother, her small body finally relaxing in the comforting arms of Rachel, and Rachel, though bruised and exhausted, smiled brighter than Natasha and you had ever seen. There was still a long road ahead of them, but the worst seemed to be over.

Three days later, Rachel was discharged. As the evening wore on, you and Natasha returned home, your house now quieter without Lily’s youthful energy. The night had gently fallen over the neighborhood, and a sense of calm finally settled in after the emotional whirlwind of the past few days. After getting ready for bed, you found yourselves lying close together, the soft light of the bedside lamp casting a warm glow over the room. Your hands were intertwined, both of you lost in thought.

You broke the silence first, your voice gentle. “You were amazing with Lily, Nat. You really helped her through something so terrible.” Natasha turned her head slightly to look into your eyes, a small smile playing on her lips. “I just wanted to make sure she was safe. She’s a strong little girl, but no one should have to go through what she did.”

You nodded, your gaze softening as you brushed a strand of hair from Natasha’s face. “You have such a strong protective instinct. That’s one of the things I love most about you.” Natasha’s smile faded a little, and she looked away, her eyes clouded with memories she rarely let surface. You, always sensitive to her moods, hesitated before speaking again.

“Nat..h-have you ever thought about..starting a family of our own?” you asked quietly, your voice filled with both hope and caution. Natasha held her breath for a moment, feeling her heart tighten. She had always known this conversation would come eventually, but now that you had voiced it, it felt even more real. She took a deep breath before answering, her voice calm but tinged with deep pain.

“You know that I…The Red Room made sure that..” Your heart aching at the thought of all the horrors Natasha had endured, and the irreversible damage done to her body. It was a subject Natasha rarely spoke about, and you had always respected that, never pushing, because you knew how deeply the pain ran. “I know, Nat.." you said softly, holding her hand a little tighter. “But..family doesn’t have to be just biological. Look at what we’ve done for Lily in just a few days. You were there for her like a mother would be. And I think..I think you’d make an incredible mom. And..if it’s okay to say this..But what if I get pregnant?”

Natasha looked into your eyes, her green eyes reflecting the inner battle she was fighting. “But what if..what if I can’t do it? What if I can’t be what a child needs? I’ve spent my whole life fighting, Y/n. I’m not sure I even know how to be..normal.”

You smiled, leaning in to give her a gentle kiss on the forehead. “You don’t have to be anything other than yourself, Natasha. That’s exactly why I love you. And being parents doesn’t mean we have to be perfect. It means loving, protecting, and doing our best.” Natasha’s heart ached with a mix of longing and fear. The thought of having a family, of creating something good and whole out of the broken pieces of her past, was both terrifying and tempting. But as she looked into your eyes, she felt a warmth, a hope she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in a long time.

“Do you really think we could do it?” Natasha asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. You nodded, your eyes shining with love and certainty. “Yes, I do. And we’d do it together, just like we do everything else. We don’t have to decide right now, but..I wanted you to know that I’ve been thinking about it. And I would want to do it with you.”

Natasha was silent for a long moment, letting the idea settle in her heart. It was a difficult topic, one that opened old wounds, but your unwavering support gave her the courage to at least consider it. Finally, Natasha nodded slightly, her grip on your hand tightening just a little. “Maybe..maybe one day. I don’t know if I’m ready yet, but..I’d like to think about it. With you.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with even more love for the woman beside you. “That’s all I could ever want, Nat..Everything in its own time.” The two of you lay there in silence for a while, holding each other close, the weight of the conversation gradually giving way to a deep, comforting sense of connection. Outside, the night was quiet and peaceful, and inside, in the warmth of your love, the future seemed a little less daunting. As Natasha closed her eyes, feeling the steady rhythm of your heartbeat under her hand, she allowed herself to dream of a future where the two of you could build a family together. It was a new and unfamiliar dream, but with you by her side, it no longer seemed impossible. And with you beside her, she knew you could face whatever the future had in store for you both.

🤧🤧🤧🤧

#natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #dom!natasha x reader #natasha romanov x reader #nat x reader #natasha romonova #the avengers #natasha

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bookshelf-dust · 5 months ago

Text

soul made of honeybees

billy hargrove x fem!reader

gif by @biillys

word count: 6,418

warnings: brief swearing, mentions of smoking, reader deals with body insecurities/dysmorphia, uses exercise as a punishment, all of the struggles that come with trying to accept oneself

synopsis: on a journey of becoming more active and trying to be happier in yourself, you find billy, who helps you develop a healthier relationship with exercising and shows you that your body should be celebrated for all it does for you.

a/n: well, what do we have here? my creative juices have begun to flow again, and this is the first fic to be born of that particular affair. in my head i’ve set this in the late 80s, maybe early 90s, where i imagine billy still works at the pool during the summers when he’s home from college. this is a situation i’ve found myself in over the past year, and i wanted a chance to explore it in this way and sort through some of my own experiences. i hope you will enjoy it. as always, happy reading! <3

————

Jane Fonda is a fucking fantastic woman. But right now, you hate her.

She manages to look stunning and effortless with each kick of her legs; while you are sweating profusely, your shorts are up your ass, and your fingers are swollen from overheating.

You hate exercising in the moment, but once her thirty minute video is over and her group of people in tights and tiny shorts are gone, admittedly you do feel better. Rinsing the sweat from your face, feeling your muscles ache the next day—it brings you some sort of satisfaction.

Your body likes that you’ve gotten more active.

But your own hatred for your body was the reason you allowed Jane Fonda into your home to begin with. Sick, right? You know it’s bad, and yet each time you squat, crunch, and press, you can’t stop yourself from wishing you were shaped differently. From looking at the toned and athletic bodies in Miss Fonda’s videos and imagining what it would be like to feel that comfortable in your own skin, to be so graceful and…perfect.

So, you continue to push yourself, in hopes that you’ll become more appealing, that if you keep doing this, there will come a point where you aren’t totally and completely disgusted with the body you’ve been given.

Because at this point, you’ve truly convinced yourself that you cannot be happy in your body. Even if you have noticed your strength levels increasing and really want to push yourself more. But you won’t let that positivity ring free like the woman on your television always wishes you would.

“You did a great job!” Jane’s voice rings throughout your living room as the workout video ends, and you scramble for the remote, having had enough of these cheery attitudes for one morning.

You sit back on your hands, stretch out your legs, and try to steady your breath. Your knees have carpet burn, and you can feel sweat dripping down your temples.

You may be a heaving mess, but you need more. The workouts have gotten easy, and you need something new.

A woman runs by outside your window in a bright pink leotard and blue jogging shorts, matching pink leg warmers meeting her tennis shoes.

I could try that, you think. Maybe I’d like running.

You certainly didn’t like it in school, but most of that was the result of shitty phys-ed teachers and the fact that you were never the athlete those instructors wanted you to be.

You push off the floor and stalk to your room, digging for the sneakers you know are buried in the back of your closet. You have to try this. You need to keep pushing yourself. And if you don’t do it now, with this sudden spark of energy, you probably never will.

Five minutes. You can run for five minutes. And if you feel like you can after that time is up, you’ll do ten.

You squeeze your eyes shut as you’re tying your shoes, shoving away the thoughts telling you that you’ll definitely not look as cute as that woman on the street or any other woman that goes for a run, their ponytail swaying and their cheeks perfectly pinked.

But what does it matter? You have to try. You have to be productive and make something out of yourself. You can’t deal with the pulsing, clawing thoughts of self-hatred anymore. Your body has to change.

The only problem is that you haven’t yet realized your mindset must too.

The heat that swallows you up when you step out of your front door is almost enough to send you right back inside. But how disappointed will you be in yourself if you retreat that quickly?

You let your body begin to walk before your brain can start to argue. Your street doesn’t really have a sidewalk, so you keep to one side as the cyclists and other joggers do, ensuring you won’t be in anyone’s way. Subconsciously, you’re already making yourself smaller even though there’s no one outside to judge you.

You look down at your watch, noting the time, and start to run. Not as though you’re being chased by a serial killer—or a man—but enough that it counts as a run. Those first few seconds are blissful. You feel like a little kid as the adrenaline spreads through your veins. Like your mom has just called you in because dinner is ready, like you're racing against the sunset so that your feet land inside the door just before the streetlights flick on.

You forgot what it was like to move your body in this way. To feel this momentary freedom. You make it about three minutes before your side starts to hurt, a telltale sign that you haven’t done this in far too long. The heat is starting to get to you too, but you said you’d go for five, and that’s what you’re doing.

It’s pitiful, the way you press yourself to the inside of your front door, trying to catch your breath from that little bit of work. Why did it hurt so much more than everything Jane Fonda tells you to do?

Maybe you’re not meant to be the athletic type. Or maybe I need to eat something, you think. I need to make a plan for myself. That could make it easier.

You can’t eat with your shirt sticking to your back though, so you strip and turn the shower on, practically jumping under the cool stream of water. But not before you glance at your body in the full-length mirror hanging on the wall. Your hands find your stomach, eye each stretch mark and bit of cellulite. Each extra-soft spot of skin, every part of you that doesn’t conform to the vision you have in your head.

You wish that five minute run had fixed everything. That you could magically look like an aerobics instructor and be happy in your own skin. Your eyes fill with tears, and you think for a minute that it could be better to just stop before you get ahead of yourself. What’s the point? You don’t know if you have it in you to wait and see results. And you know you won’t turn into someone else, won’t form a new shape…and then you’re spiraling. You can’t think of a single reason why exercising is worth it.

Because it can be fun. Because it pushes you and makes you stronger. You shove this tiny voice away and let your gaze flick back to the shower, where you’ve completely abandoned your cold sanctuary. You hop in and start scrubbing your hair, trying to think of anything that isn’t your body in that mirror, anything other than how much you looked like a fraud trying to fit in with everyone else.

————

You continue on this way for a while longer: running in the mornings, doing as many of the Jane Fonda videos as you have access to at work, drinking more water, blah blah blah. One of the perks of working at the library is that you can check out as many tapes as you want. But you’ve done all of Jane’s workouts, and you need more.

You could swim, but when is the community pool ever not full to the brim during the summer? You could try jazzercise. No. That’s just not for you. You could…go to the gym.

The pool also has small gyms for both women and men, and you know the men’s one is usually very busy, but most of the women in Hawkins take part in other forms of exercise. And if you went in the mornings…you might have the place to yourself. You might could try and tone up.

God, this sounds so stupid.

And your heart rate picks up just thinking about doing this very new and very big and very embarrassing thing, but you want to do it. You’re going to try.

Hopefully you’ll just go unnoticed. This is a totally normal thing for people to do, right?

The community pool opens at ten during the week, but the doors to the gyms open at seven. And that’s what time you get there, out of pure fear that you’ll have to interact with another human and make a fool of yourself. But the universe must be looking out for you on this particular morning, because the door is unlocked, and you slip in without any hassle.

Billy isn’t a morning person. He never has been, but an excuse to get out of his hellhole of a house before anyone else is up to fuck with him? Yeah, he jumped at that opportunity.

Usually the manager opens the gyms and stays to open the pool during the summer, but he volunteered. Especially because he can usually get in a workout before his shift technically even starts.

He’ll bench as much as he can without a spot, work on the pull ups he never tells anyone he struggles with. It just feels good to be able to use his muscles and push himself. Billy is proud of what his body can do, what it does for him, how it protects him—and he’s not ashamed to admit that.

His body is one of the only things he has control over, and he’s heard his share of people talking about how vain he is, how he shouldn’t spend so much time doing this or that. But he doesn’t give a fuck. He’s built a body he’s proud of and feels comfortable in, and truthfully he feels like everyone should be comfortable in their body without anyone else pushing them to look another way.

Billy is leaning against his car, hands tangled in his hair in an effort to tie it up, a cigarette dangling loosely from his full lips when he sees you for the first time.

He watches you get in your car, bag slung over your shoulder, interested only because he never sees another soul here this early.

You’re pretty, he thinks. Your hairline shines in the morning sunlight, damp with sweat, your neck the same. Your sports bra peeks through your pale shirt, and one of your slouchy socks is hiked up higher than the other. You’ve clearly just finished working out, but he thinks you look breathtaking.

There’s something about you. Something light and sweet that he can feel even from this distance, like something is telling him you have a good soul.

The next time Billy sees you, you come out of the door looking frustrated—he assumes at yourself. He doesn’t want to bother you, but he would like to talk to you at some point.

You turn around when you go to unlock your car door and lock eyes with him. Your heart stutters at the fact that someone has caught you, probably knows you were exercising. But he is gorgeous. You give him a small smile, and climb into the driver's seat. All you can think on the drive home is that it must be nice to be so effortlessly gorgeous.

————

You continue on this way for weeks. Close to a month. You workout, you wave and acknowledge one another. This other person who you share this tiny thing with and who you are not judged by.

On this particular day, you decide to be brave though. You packed a swimsuit, and you’re going to speak to that gorgeous boy and hope he doesn’t get freaked out by you.

You place your weights back on the rack, the muscles in your thighs pulsing, your arms feeling like jelly. You’ve only worked your way up to the set of fifteens, but that’s something, right?

You’re sweating, and dread walking outside into the swath of steadily climbing heat and humidity. Your heart pounds at the prospect of speaking to him.

With your bag over your shoulder, you push open the door and step outside, jumping almost immediately. “Shit!”

Billy laughs at your reaction, both because he hadn’t expected to frighten you, and because your jolt was pretty entertaining to witness.

“I’m sorry,” he chuckles, “I didn’t mean to make you lose your shit, it’s just too hot to stand anywhere without shade.”

You lean against the cool metal door behind you. “Fuck,” you sigh. “My survival skills are clearly not what they should be.”

Billy laughs into his drink, taking a swig from the Coke he bought at the vending machine.

“You headed out?” he asks, subconsciously fussing with a belt loop.

“Well, yeah, I was. But um, I was going to ask a favor from you, if that’s okay?” You must sound like a dumbass, speaking to this man for the very first time, only to ask him for something.

“Shoot,” Billy responds.

“Do you think it’d be okay for me to swim a few laps in the pool? I know it’s not open yet, and I haven’t even told you my name, but I promise not to be a bother or anything. I just kind of wanted a chance to swim when there was no one else around, you know?”

Billy finishes his drink and tosses the can in the recycling bin inches from your hip. It lands with a resounding ping.

You start to think this was a very stupid idea, and that maybe you should’ve just kept yourself at home like always.

“You can totally say no—”

“Yeah, sure I don’t see why not—”

Your words clash together and the both of you start to laugh. You raise your hand, gesturing for him to continue his thought.

“It’s fine by me if you swim a little. I doubt you’re gonna trash the place.” He grins at you, dimples forming in his cheeks. “I’m Billy, by the way.”

A heat rises up your neck and washes over the tips of your ears. You tell him your name and thank him for letting you bend the rules.

“Ah, fuck the rules. It’s just a community pool,” he winks, opening up the gate for you and telling you to have at it.

You’d put your one-piece on underneath your workout clothes this morning, and you try to ignore the prick of shame, even disgust, that you feel having put your body in it as you wade into the pool.

The water is cool, and as it drenches you, you feel lighter, somehow. You swim out to the deep end and push off the wall with your toes, propelling yourself underwater and kicking for as long as you can go while holding your breath.

The little girl that still lives within your soul leaps to the surface, giddy with each push off the wall, each stroke of your arms underneath the water. She is excited. Free.

She isn’t thinking about what your stomach looks like in this swimsuit or how stupid you probably look with your sloppy swimming skills.

You swim for maybe twenty minutes, or at least until your shoulders are aching. You kick over to the wall, hoisting yourself up just that little bit so you can prop your elbows up on the warming concrete.

You feel so light here that it almost makes you forget why you came.

You hear footsteps and Billy appears from around the corner, a fluffy white towel in hand.

“You getting out? I figured I’d come and make sure you hadn’t drowned.”

You giggle. The sound makes him smile, pearly white teeth on display. Your eyes are drawn to his, where the summer sun has multiplied his freckles so much that they blanket his nose and the tops of his cheeks, washing over his temples.

“I appreciate you looking out for my safety,” you say, climbing up the short ladder. Billy holds out a hand to help you steady yourself as you stand. You’re hesitant to take it because you’re all wet, but your hand moves before your mind takes control. “Thank you.” You give him a shy smile.

He grins at you and hands you the towel. You wrap it around your shoulders and follow him back under the awning when he starts walking away. Billy leans up against the cold brick wall and you stand, a little nervously, in front of him, trying to think of what to say.

“I’ll admit, uh, it’s been nice to see someone else here so early in the mornings.” Billy lets out a huff of a laugh. “I was gonna ask though, why’d you pick this shithole to workout in?”

You pull the damp towel tighter against your torso. “It’s a quiet shithole,” you say. “And this whole exercising thing is pretty new to me, you know? I didn’t want to be somewhere people could see me like that.”

You realize how self-deprecating that comment was, realize you’re being too upfront, and try to quickly cover your ass. “What about you?” you ask, daring to make eye contact just to make sure he’s not disturbed.

“Well, it came with the job,” he laughs, “and I love working out. Always have. Plus, it might be a shitty place, but the older equipment is a lot better than what newer gyms are using. So it works for me.”

Huh.

“Oh. Nice.” You chew on your thumbnail. What a fuckup you are.

Billy tilts his head, trying to encourage your gaze to raise to his. “What just happened?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice.

You look at him, his sunglasses pushed up into his hair and arms crossed in front of his chest. “It’s nothing…I just don’t really know what to say to someone who enjoys the gym? Who has a positive relationship with it and everything.”

A crease forms between Billy’s brows. “You’ve been crazy consistent with it, but you don’t like it?” He asks you, but based on your body language and how you’ve acted the past month every time you head out, everything adds up and Billy knows the answer before it even leaves your mouth.

You shake your head, ashamed that you even brought this up. “No,” you laugh nervously. “I hate it. I only started because I’m unhappy with myself? So it’s more of a punishment than something that brings me joy.”

Billy’s chest squeezes at your words. That is exactly why he started working out all those years ago. To make himself stronger because he was ashamed his father had power over him. Because he wasn’t good enough for anyone, so out of anger he made himself more powerful.

But he doesn’t want you to feel that way. You shouldn’t be working out purely to punish yourself for some absurd reason your mind has come up with.

And even though Billy has had very minimal interactions with you, he likes you. He wouldn’t wish the horrible thoughts he’s had for himself on anyone else, but he gets the feeling you already know.

“Well, I’m not gonna berate you or nothin.’ But uh, if you ever want help, or want to workout together so it’s not so miserable, let me know alright?”

You smirk at him, hoping to make the situation a bit less awkward. “Are you implying you’re the reason working out would become less miserable?”

Billy laughs, glad to see you’re not totally opposed to the idea of him offering help. “Yeah. But really, you shouldn’t have to hate it y’know? If I can help you figure out not to hate it…I’d like to try. And we could get to know each other better.”

Billy fidgets with the lighter in his pocket. He’s weaned off cigarettes, but he keeps loads of lighters around so he has something to occupy his hands with. If not, it’s usually not a good situation for him to be in.

Your heart squeezes at the genuine quality in his words. You feel like you’re a lost cause at this point, but there’s a big part of you, the soft and squishy and easily flustered one, that wants to take him up on this offer.

You nod, wrapping up your towel so you can drop it in the bin and go get changed. “Okay. I’ll think about it, Billy. Promise.”

————

“One more.”

“I can’t, Billy. I told you, I’m not strong enough for this shit.”

You swear when you’re frustrated. Billy has learned that over the past few weeks.

He crouches, leveling with you. Your knee bounces, the dumbbells in your hands sitting on the tops of your thighs. “Yes, you can. You’re already up to twenty-fives for your presses. Try one more for me and then you can rest a minute.”

Your eyes well with tears that you quickly blink away as you settle back against the bench. This is the point in a workout where you just start to hate yourself. You think it’s pointless, you know you’re body hasn’t changed enough, you feel like total shit—everything just feels fucked.

You use your knees to help lift the dumbbells and slowly lift them to the appropriate height, making sure to protect your shoulders like Billy taught you. You inhale and raise them up. Your arms are shaking, especially your non-dominant one which is really fighting this shoulder press, and you’re not sure you’ll be able to lift them fully until you do.

“Fuck, yeah!” Billy’s voice reaches your ears just as you’re lowering your arms, completely out of breath. You set the dumbbells on the floor.

Billy is thrilled for you. He can see the progress you’re making, how much stronger you are and less hesitant to try new exercises.

When you look up at him the expression on your face tells him you are not thrilled.

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s the matter?”

You stand and walk over to the mirror that covers one whole wall. You put your hands on your hips and bite the inside of your cheek. “Billy, will you look at me, honestly?” You gesture to your body. “This is the matter. I don’t look any different than the first day I showed up here, do I? Even if I’ve been busting my ass, I’ll just never—”

You stop, rubbing your hands down your face and over your bloodshot eyes.

“You’ll never what?” Billy locks eyes with you in the mirror.

You set a hand on your chest, nails digging into your skin. “My body will never be good enough for me. I’ll always look at every other person that walks by, jealous that they have the figure I want and I’ll never have. Why did I have to get stuck with this shit? Why couldn’t I be given a body that I’d be happy with. Life if fucking hard enough, why couldn’t I have this one thing?”

“And you’re just so effortlessly gorgeous, you know that? I wish it was that easy for me, too. It’s just like, why am I even doing this anymore when I know I’ll never look the way other women do? I’m bullshitting myself, aren’t I, Billy? Working out like it’s gonna do anything.”

You exhale and drag your arm across your nose, avoiding Billy’s gaze.

“Hey. Look at me.” Billy’s tone is firm. “Listen for a second, will you?”

“You are getting stronger. You’re using heavier weights all around. Shit, you’re up to fifty for your deadlifts. Hold your arm up for me—yeah, and squeeze, yep. Look at that.”

He taps his index and middle finger on your bicep, on the bit of muscle you’ve grown and shape you’ve built. “You are absolutely not bullshitting yourself, you hear me? If anything, you’re bullshitting yourself by thinking you can’t be happy in this body. You don’t have to look like other women. Who the fuck put that idea in your head? I don’t know if you see how I look at you, but I think you’re gorgeous, and I love to see you becoming more comfortable in the movements you do, in your own strength. Your body does so fuckin’ much for you.”

Billy is still keeping eye contact with you in the mirror. You can feel the warmth of him behind you, and you swear you sweat more because you know he’s right and you know you are getting stronger but fuck you just can’t believe that. You look at him and you just wish you were that lithe, that comfortable in your own skin.

“I’m doing this with you—hey, take a deep breath, alright?” He clocks the way you’re shaking out your hands, trying to keep yourself from breaking. Crying. Screaming out of frustration. “I’m doing this with you because I used to be just like this, you hear me?”

He hates being vulnerable, fucking despises it, but he knows that giving you this information, giving you this little pathway into his life just might save you right now.

“I worked out all through junior high and high school because I fuckin’ hated myself, and I thought if I could get bigger, if I could make myself look intimidating, then maybe other people wouldn’t treat me like shit. That part worked in some places, but I didn’t like myself any more because I hadn’t sorted through any of my mental shit.”

He says your name. Slowly. You like the way it sounds when he says it, hating the way it sounds when it leaves your own lips.

“I know we aren’t all that close yet, but I see so much fuckin’ potential in you. I’m not gonna let you suffer with all this shit alone. I know you hate your body, but this is the one you were given, and there’s no point spending so much time destroying yourself over that simple fact.”

You turn around to face him, your hands on the sides of your neck, rubbing as if that will stop the emotion from rising in your throat. It doesn’t work. Billy’s eyes move back and forth between yours, across your face, tracking every change in your expression. He recognizes what you’re doing, trying to suppress all of this.

“C’mere.”

You go before your mind can fight back. Billy takes you in his arms, tucking your face into his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You breathe unsteadily into his skin. You don’t care that he smells like sweat and you smell like sweat and that you’re shaking and tears are slipping from your eyes. His arms are strong, and the feeling of his biceps squeezing you closer, his hands running up and down your back, it makes it all feel like it’s okay.

“It’s just so fucking hard, Billy,” you mumble, lifting your head up slightly. “It’s not fair. I just want to be pretty and normal and have a body I can accept like everyone else.”

Billy gently touches his index finger just below your chin, coaxing your gaze up to meet his. “I know it is. And I mean it when I say that you are pretty. Honestly, you gotta think about how many ‘pretty’ people there are out there, people who have the bodies the tabloids tell them to have—and are absolute dicks. Hell, that’s how I was in high school.”

Your eyes crinkle at the corners, signaling that he did get a little joy in you having admitted that, even if it’s not a full on smile. His thumb swipes down your cheek, mopping up the little track left by a tear.

“Point is, this, what I’m holding right now, is your body. No one else would know it like you do, know how to take care of it, know where each mark has come from or each thing you’ve put it through. Each thing it’s gotten you through. You can accept it, because I’m going to help you get to a point where you can look in the mirror and not shit-talk yourself.”

You pull back a little, pressing the palms of your hands to your face, your elbows slightly poking the top of Billy’s rib cage. “I’m just so scared.”

“I got you, you hear me?” He pulls your shirt away from your collarbones just so it’s not sticking to your skin so much. “You don’t need to be scared. Not with me.”

You nod. And you keep doing that until it feels a little more believable.

————

Billy can’t stop looking at you.

And he really needs to focus before he runs off the sidewalk and into the road.

But for the first time in the few months he’s known you, you look free. You look happy. You look all of these things and you’re running. There’s a baseball cap perched backwards on your head, one of his from forever ago that he lent (gave) you when you mentioned you didn’t have any.

He can smell the sunscreen you’ve slathered all over yourself, see the sweat dripping down your spine. This is the first time you’ve felt brave enough to go out in just a sports bra and a cropped sweatshirt, bright colored biker shorts covering the tops of your thighs. Your frilly socks make it too, just because it shows how much more comfortable you’ve gotten with doing this.

It turns out you never hated running. You just needed to do it in a different atmosphere, with different thoughts running through your head. And having a good running partner helps, too.

“There’s a bench up here if you want to rest a second before we finish,” Billy says through a rather aggressive exhale. You’re glad the sun is setting, because that makes it so much cooler than when you try to run in the morning with the sun beating down on you and seeping into your veins.

You sit down, taking a long drink from your water. Billy crouches on the sidewalk, shaking out his hair and retying the mess of a bun he was wearing.

“You’re doing so good today,” he tells you, winking at you from his place just a few inches to your left.

You grin into your water bottle. “How long was that?” you ask.

He rises and sits down next to you, his arm slung behind your back on the bench. His thumb brushes the shell of your ear, rubs over the little hoop you’re wearing. You watch as he does a little math in his head, checking out where exactly you are. “Little over two miles, bee.”

Bee. Your heart skips every time he says that. It’s a very new thing, but it sort of slipped out one day, and you’ve loved it ever since.

“What movie you wanna see this weekend, honeybee? My treat.”

When you’d asked why he chose that name for you, he’d teased at first, telling you it was just because you’re so damn sweet. But really it was a little more sappy than that.

“Well, you are sweet. And bubbly when you want to be. But think about how much shit those little fuckers get done. How persistent and focused. They’re all cute and fuzzy n’ whatever, but they’re like, badass lil’ things, y’know?”

Your knee bounces excitedly on the pavement. “Really?” That’s the farthest you’ve run so far. And you didn’t even hate it. You had…fun.

Billy laughs, throwing his head back a little and bearing his neck to you. It shines with sweat and it almost looks like he’s glowing. “Fuck yeah. You’ve been kicking my ass this week. I hate running.”

“But you do it with me,” you say.

“But I do it with you.”

You reach over your shoulder and squeeze his hand. “I like running better when it’s with you. Just for the record.” He squeezes back, lifting your hand up gently to press his lips to it.

“I’m proud of you, you know that?”

A crease forms between your brows as you meet his gaze. “What for?”

“For not giving up.” You start to argue with him, but he continues before you can belittle yourself even the slightest bit. “You’ve kept at this, at trying to get yourself stronger and to try and feel more comfortable in what your body can do. I know you probably still wish you looked like some fuckin’ model or some shit, but I can see how much you’ve eased up, you know?”

You nod, giving him a small smile. “I do still wish that sometimes. It would be easier. But I’m getting better, I think. I hate to tell you you’re right—,” he shoots you that cocky, prideful grin, “but my body does do a lot for me. I’m starting to accept that it can do a lot for me…”

You trail off, tapping the toes of your sneakers on the concrete below you. “And I did squat with the bar and those little plates yesterday without a spot.”

The spot in question was watching you carefully from a few feet away, ready to sprint if you needed help.

“Yes, you did, bee. You’re kicking ass.” That dimple forms in his cheek, and you know he’s about to say something smart. “Speaking of ass—”

You stand abruptly, turning around quickly so that the area he’s speaking of isn’t directly in his face. You’ve learned he has a staring problem, specifically with that part of you. Not that you mind. Maybe that’s where your pride comes in.

————

The sun has slipped beneath the horizon by the time Billy slips his key into the gate, pulling it securely shut behind him. The first spattering of stars are trying to show in the purple-blue sky.

The pool is calm, empty, and lit only by the pale bulbs built into it and the two light poles on either side of the patio.

It was Billy’s idea to sneak in for a late night swim. He thought it would be fun, and he knows you hate swimming in an overcrowded pool. But truthfully, he just wanted to give you another space where you could feel completely without judgment and just exist.

“What’s the plan here, Billy? I didn’t even think about taking a detour to get a swimsuit.”

It’s true, you’ve felt so carefree around him that you weren’t overthinking, overanalyzing a scenario like this. You weren’t worried about running inside and finding the most full coverage bathing suit you have because you’re afraid of Billy seeing your body. But right now…you just feel calm. Your body isn’t perfect, but it’s okay if he at least sees your legs.

Billy is already slipping off his shoes and taking off his shirt. “That’s because the point of this is being spontaneous, bee.” He walks to the far end of the pool and dives in, just in his little running shorts, before you can even blink.

You’re nervous, just that little bit because this is so different from something you’d usually do, and now you’re just stripping? You’re just living and having a good time? Who the fuck are you?

You step out of your own shorts and pull off your socks. You’re left in your underwear and your little cropped sweatshirt. You register, as you walk down the stairs, that your underwear are blue, and you look just like Lisa from Weird Science. It makes you smile.

You track Billy’s movements once you're up to your waist and realize he’s heading for you. He squeezes your ankle beneath the water before coming to the surface, a wide grin on his face. His necklace is stuck around his back and on instinct you reach out to straighten it.

His eyes drag up and down your figure. “Hi, gorgeous.” The low drawl of his voice makes the tips of your ears burn.

You wade a little deeper into the water, circling behind him. When you’re drenched up to your chest, you splash him. Billy cackles. It is possibly the most joyous sound you’ve ever heard.

He dives for your waist, hooking an arm around you and swimming off, making you howl with laughter before you have to hold your own breath when he pulls you out deeper than you are tall.

He hoists you up out of the water and gently tosses you to the side, letting you fall into the water on your back. The adrenaline coursing through your veins is magical.

You keep playing with him, playing, like you’re both kids who’ve never been in a pool before, until you’ve run through most of your energy. You try and teach him a game you played as a child, where one person spreads their legs and your goal is to swim between them without touching their skin, even as they move their legs closer together each time.

It’s silly, because you inevitably know you’ll touch your opponents legs, but it’s fun. You don’t think about anything else when you do it. He teases you though, trapping you with his calves most times so you automatically lose.

Now though, you and Billy stand nose to nose, at a depth where you’re not up to your chin so that you can actually speak to him. “This was a really good idea,” you tell him. You push some of his wet hair out of his face and then, rather than pulling away, you set your hands on his shoulders.

He wraps his arms around your waist. “This okay?” he asks, lowering one arm so he can show you he wants to lift you up. You give him a sweet yes.

Billy’s hand grips your thigh, coaxing you upward so you can get your legs around his back. You adjust your arms behind his head, him respectfully keeping his hands on the backs of your thighs. He steps back just that little bit more so he can submerge himself further in the water now that you’re held up.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile for this long before,” Billy says. His blue eyes flick back and forth between your own.

“You’ve given me a lot more reasons to.” Your hand cups his cheek and he swears he could fucking collapse. You’re so gentle with him and Billy never knew he even wanted that. But now he craves it. Craves you.

That cocky smirk you’ve started to recognize before it even begins makes an appearance. “Yeah? Can I give you one more reason to?”

You hum in agreement, and then Billy is pressing his lips to yours. They’re damp and he tastes a little like chlorine, but…he was right. You smile brilliantly into the kiss, and you’re not sure you stop the rest of the night either.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

#savannah’s fics #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x fem!reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargove imagine #billy hargrove comfort #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove oneshot

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cherriegyuu · 7 months ago

Note

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C4skP1tuO6F/?igsh=MTNtamg3ZmM1aDgxbw==

Can u plssss make a husband mingyu fic of his daughter absolutely hating his haircut go from long to extremely short causing him to sulk and hate his own hair then y/n having to comfort him😭😭 this video legit reminded me of this instantly idek how

i'm not supposed to be taking requests but this was just something that stuck to my mind ever since i read it. so here it is! i hope you like it! i'm also just in time for his birthday

when he cuts his hair

pairing: mingyu x fem!reader genre: fluff word count: 769 warnings: slightly suggestive not proofread

You did your best to contain your smile, or at least tried to hide it, as your daughter cried into your shoulder, her small tears soaking your shirt and her hands balled into tiny fists in your hair. Under normal circumstances, you’d have taken her hand away but in that moment, it seemed like the only option to have her calm down.

Your husband sat on the couch, the blanket you kept on the back of it wrapped around his head and shoulder, as his eyes were two full moons in his face. Mingyu was a mixture of laughter and unwashed tears as he watched your daughter cry into you.

“I didn’t know” his voice came out in a whine, his hold on the blanket tightening “I thought it would be okay”

Mingyu had left the house that morning saying “I’m going to cut hair, I’ll be right back”. He had kept his hair longer for almost a year and it was probably one of your daughter’s favorite things about him — that and also the fact that Mingyu even existed. “Not only does she look like you the most but she also loves you the most” you’d half-heartily complain sometimes.

It became some sort of routine, if she fell asleep with Mingyu around, she’d most definitely have her hand in his hair. Logically and rationally you knew that Hanna wouldn't like the new haircut, but you also didn’t think that it would be that much of a big deal. What you also didn’t expect was for Mingyu to come back with the shortest hair you have ever seen on him.

You had known Mingyu for roughly twelve years and he always kept his hair on the longer side. While the sight was a fantastic one, Hanna didn’t seem to share the same idea.

She ran to the door excitedly the second she heard the sound of keys on the lock to greet her dad. She had the biggest smile on her face and then it just disappeared as she took in her dad’s new look. Her small features contorted and her eyes filled with tears and she ran back to you, hiding behind your legs.

Like he usually did, Mingyu kneeled to welcome the hug that always came but this time there was none.

You wished you had recorded the whole thing, the way Hanna started to scream her lungs out because “not daddy” and Mingyu was a few seconds away from crying.

“Hanna” you cooed “you don’t want to say hi to daddy? He missed while he was away”

She shook her head.

“Not daddy,” she said again, the new tears coming down her face.

It took you a good hour to get her to settle down and sleep. Her body still shook with sobs when you put her in bed.

Mingyu was in the living room, in the same exact position as before, the blanket still wrapped around his head. His eyes were sort of lost until he finally seemed to notice you were back. Once again his eyes were filled with tears.

“Babe, no, it’s fine,” you said, approaching him.

When you were close enough he pulled you to him, hands around your waist and his head resting on your stomach. Slowly you pulled the blanket away from him and ran your hand over his hair. There wasn't a lot to hold onto, there was barely any hair in between your fingers, just a little more at the top for a quiff.

“She hates me now,” he complained.

There were these moments when it was hard to tell who was actually the 2 year old and who was the grown man.

“She doesn't, she just needs to get used to it. You're her favorite person” you assure him “She's just surprised. When you left there was hair in your head”

Mingyu groaned at your laugh.

“I just wanted to try something different”

You held his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. Mingyu rested his chin on your stomach, beautiful dark eyes looking back at you.

“Do you like it, at least?”

You bit your lips, trying to keep yourself from saying that maybe you didn’t like it as much, that your favorite hair was that middle ground between short and longer.

“You look younger” your words were slow, a little careful.

He groaned, pretending to cry, his arms getting even tighter around you.

“Both of you hate it”

You bent forward and placed a kiss on his nose and then his lips until his pout was replaced by a smile.

“At least there’s a little bit to hold on to”

taglist: @wonwooz1, @mirtaspace, @feat-sun, @belladaises, @immabecreepin, @miriamxsworld, @aaniag, @byunparklimchoi, @k-drama-adict, @maiamorrrrrrrrrrrr, @roguesthetic, @sofix-hc7, @moonlightgrleric, @mixling-blog, @haowonbins, @valgracia, @slut4donghyuck, @muantuankim, @shuabby1994, @sukiscones, @plumings, @aaa-sia, @bouclesdefeu, @hyangg11, @sea-moon-star, @writingbarnes, @strawberryroseee, @lovely-ficsfor-me, @lixisoul99, @jjeongddol, @whoa-jo, @poiibbtt, @seokqt, @palmsugr

if you enjoyed reading, please reblog and leave a comment, it really does mean the world to me and i would love to know your thoughts. thank you! 💕

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#svthub #k-labels #svt smut #seventeen imagine #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt x you #mingyu x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu x you #kim mingyu x you #mingyu #seventeen fluff #mingyu imagines #kim mingyu imagines #kim mingyu #mingyu fluff

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misspygmypie · 3 months ago

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Meet & Greet... and more? Pt. 9

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader Words: 2937 Click here for Part 8

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

The months passed by with Y/N and Lando’s relationship growing deeper steadily. In the 11 months they had been with each other they both had learned to cope with Lando’s busy lifestyle. The next Grand Prix was just around the corner and Lando had always thrived on the adrenaline of racing but today the excitement was dimmed by a heavy feeling of responsibility. Every detail needed his attention and this meant missing Noah’s fifth birthday party, which was less than a week away.

He glanced at the demanding schedule on his desk and felt a pang of guilt. He opened his laptop and called Y/N, hoping to at least share a moment of happiness remotely via video. When her face appeared on the screen the dining table in the background was cluttered with birthday decorations ready to be hung up, of course racing themed.

“Hey baby,” Lando said, trying to sound upbeat. “How’s everything going for the big day?”

“Hi,” Y/N’s smile was warm. “We’re getting everything ready, he’s really excited and he’s been asking about you a lot.”

Lando tried to mask his sadness with a smile. “I’m sorry I can’t make it, things are just incredibly hectic right now.”

“I know,” Y/N replied, her eyes filled with understanding and concern. “He understands and he’s so proud of you! He even drew a picture of you racing and he’s been showing it off to everyone. He’s really looking forward to when you’re back and we can all spend some time together.”

Just then the boy appeared on the screen, holding up the drawing with a beaming smiley face. “Lando, look! I made this for you, it’s you in the car!”

Lando’s heart melted at the sight. “Wow, Noah, that’s fantastic! I’m going to keep it in my suitcase to remind me of you.”

Noah’s face lit up. “Will you win the race for me?”

“I’ll definitely try my best,” Lando said sincerely. “And when I get back, we’ll have a special day together. How about we finally go to a go-kart track and race like I do? You can show me how fast you are.”

“Really? That sounds amazing!” Noah’s eyes sparkled with excitement and Y/N gave Lando a grateful look. “Thank you for making the effort to connect, even if you can’t be here in person.”

‐—-------

In the days following the video call Lando couldn’t shake the guilt of missing Noah’s birthday. He had promised to make it up to them and he was determined to keep that promise. Between the hectic preparations for the Grand Prix and the relentless schedule it seemed nearly impossible but Lando was set on finding a way.

Late one evening he sat in his living room and stared at his calendar. Meetings, strategy sessions and media obligations filled every available slot. But the more he looked, the more he felt that missing Noah’s birthday wasn't just a minor oversight, it was an opportunity lost to be there for someone who meant so much to him.

The idea was simple: create a small window of time to surprise them before the Grand Prix. It would be tight, but with some help he believed it could be done.

“Hey, Oscar, do you have a moment to chat?” Lando spoke into his phone after his team mate had picked up.

“Sure, what’s up?”

“I need a huge favor,” Lando said. “Noah’s turning five this week and I’ve been looking forward to celebrating his birthday with him. But with all the media meetings and events I have lined up I’m struggling to figure out how to be in two places at once.”

Oscar listened carefully. “What can I do to help?”

Lando took a deep breath. “I was wondering if you could cover some of my media meetings and sponsor commitments for a few days. Noah and Y/N are my family now and I can’t bear the thought of missing this day.”

“I get it, Lando. Family is everything, I’d be happy to help out.”

“Thank you, Oscar,” Lando felt a surge of relief, “Noah looks up to me and Y/N has been incredibly supportive during our entire relationship. I want to be there for both of them just this once.”

Oscar chuckled softly, finding Lando’s dedication endearing. “You know, it’s kind of cute to see how much you care about them. It’s clear how much they mean to you.”

Lando smiled, a bit embarrassed, grateful that Oscar wasn’t able to see him. “Well, when you find the right people it changes everything. I’m really lucky to have them in my life.”

“Just send me the details and I’ll make sure everything runs smoothly. You focus on having a great time.”

“Thank you so much,” Lando said gratefully. “It means more to me than you know. I’ll get you all the details in a bit.”

“No problem at all,” Oscar assured him. “We’re all part of a team here and we support each other. If there’s anything else you need just let me know.”

With their conversation wrapped up, Lando quickly called his assistant to inform him of the changes and then compiled the necessary details for Oscar, relieved and grateful for his friend’s support.

_________

The day of the surprise arrived and Lando boarded a private jet early in the morning, arriving in Y/N’s city just in time to make the most of his brief visit. He kept his plan a secret, even from Y/N, to ensure it would be a complete surprise.

When Lando arrived at Y/N’s house, he was greeted by colorful birthday decorations and the buzz of children’s laughter. Y/N opened the door, her eyes widening in disbelief when she saw him.

“Lando! What are you doing here?” Y/N gasped and hugged her boyfriend tightly before kissing him for a few seconds.

“Surprise! I couldn’t miss his birthday, so I rearranged my schedule to be here.”

Y/N’s face lit up with happiness. “He’s going to be thrilled. He’s been so excited for today.”

As Noah ran up to the hallway his face brightened when he saw Lando. “You came!”

Lando crouched down and the two of them hugged tightly for a moment, then Lando handed the birthday boy a large box wrapped in orange, his favorite color. “This is for you, happy birthday, buddy.”

Noah eagerly unwrapped the box to find a high-quality remote-controlled race car. His eyes widened. “This is amazing, it’s just like the car you drive!”

“It is,” Lando said with a grin. “And I thought we could have some fun together testing it out.”

Before they could start playing Noah’s friends, who had been watching from a distance, gathered around, their eyes wide with disbelief as they recognized Lando. The kids stared in awe, their excitement growing as Lando greeted them. “Hi everyone,” Lando said with a friendly wave. “I’m glad to finally meet all of Noah’s friends.”

The children took turns asking Lando questions about racing and they all spent the afternoon racing the remote-controlled car around the yard, with Noah’s friends eagerly joining in to cheer them on. The party was a huge success and after seeing the joy on Noah’s face Lando knew he had made the right decision.

—-----

The next evening Lando was preparing to leave for the Grand Prix when Y/N approached him, Noah standing next to her with a small, carefully wrapped package.

“Before you go, Noah has something he made for you,” Y/N said. “He and his class had a project where they crafted gifts for the special people in their lives. He was really excited about this and he wanted to give this to you next time you were here.”

The boy, standing beside Y/N, handed over the gift. “I picked you because you’re my hero.”

“Aw,” Lando responded, visibly touched by the gesture, “thank you so much, I can’t wait to see what you’ve created.”

Lando unwrapped it eagerly but just as carefully and he discovered a handmade notebook. The cover was decorated with stickers, including race cars, stars and an orange glittery “L.” Inside, the pages were filled with Noah’s heartfelt notes and colorful drawings about their adventures at the tracks so far together.

Lando felt himself tear up as he flipped through the pages. Each drawing depicted a different scene, a race car zooming across a track, Lando in his racing suit and Noah himself with a big smile in the garage. But it was the final page that truly got to him.

The last drawing was a vibrant crayon depiction of a family. It showed Lando, Y/N and Noah together, smiling and holding hands, surrounded by stars and hearts. The drawing was labeled with the words: “Our Happy Family.”

Lando could barely keep himself from crying. He turned to Noah, who was watching him with wide, hopeful eyes. “This is the most beautiful drawing I’ve ever seen. It means so much to me that you see us this way.”

“I wanted you to have something special because you’re always so busy and away from us.”

Y/N, seeing Lando’s emotional reaction, added softly, “Noah was so proud of his project. He wanted you to know how much you mean to him.”

Just in that moment Y/N’s phone rang and she stepped away to answer. Lando took the opportunity to grab Noah’s hand and guide him to sit down next to him on the sofa. “Can I tell you something, Noah?”

The boy looked up, curious. “What is it?”

Lando took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I want you to know how much I love both you and your mom. Being with you two has made me happier than I’ve ever been.”

Noah’s eyes widened with interest. “Really?”

“Really,” Lando said, nodding. “And there’s something I’ve been thinking about. I want to ask your mommy to marry me but I wanted to make sure you’re okay with it first.”

“You mean you want to be our family forever?” Noah’s face lit up with excitement and the young man smiled, feeling relieved. “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean. I want us to be a family, just like in your drawing. What do you think?”

Noah thought for a moment, then asked shyly, “If you’re going to be our family, you kind of would be my dad then?”

Lando’s heart melted. “That would make me very happy. But let’s keep this a secret for now, okay? We’ll surprise your mommy together when the time is right.”

Noah nodded enthusiastically. “Okay, I won’t tell anyone,” he whispered and the both shared a big smile while Noah snuggled up to the man.

_____

Lando had spent the last few weeks juggling the thrill of Formula 1 races with the excitement of planning a surprise that meant more to him than any victory on the track. He had been dating Y/N for well over a year now, a year that had flown by in a blur of love and laughter. Their relationship had grown and Lando knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

There was just one thing missing: the perfect proposal. So, he decided to involve someone very important in his plan, someone who would have a unique perspective and whose opinion mattered a lot to both Y/N and Lando. That someone was Noah.

During his next weekend off Lando gently woke Y/N one morning and informed her about the day’s agenda.

“Good morning, love,” Lando said softly, smiling and kissing her forehead. “I’ve got a little surprise planned for you today.”

Y/N blinked sleepily. “Oh? And what’s that?”

“I’m taking Noah for a boys’ day out. You’re going to have a day to yourself; shopping, pampering, whatever you want, baby. Just relax and enjoy.”

“And what are you two up to?”

Lando gave a mysterious grin. “You’ll find out soon enough. Have fun today!”

With that he placed a loving kiss on her head and quietly tiptoed over to Noah’s room where the boy was already awake, the space a cheerful mess of toys.

“Good morning, buddy,” Lando greeted, tousling his hair. “Are you ready for a little secret mission?”

Noah’s eyes widened with curiosity. “A mission? What kind of mission?”

Lando knelt down to Noah’s level, a playful grin on his face. “It’s a very important mission. I need your help to plan something really special for your mommy.”

“What is it?” Noah’s face lit up with excitement.

“Remember when I told you a while ago that I wanted to ask your mom to marry me?” Lando asked. “I need your help to make sure it’s perfect. Can you help me with it?”

Noah’s eyes sparkled with delight. “Yes, I’ll help! What do we need to do?”

Before they were able to head out they had to get ready. First he had to get the boy dressed. Lando picked out a pair of comfy jeans, then held up a colorful, striped shirt and a grey hoodie.

“Which one?” Lando asked, holding them up for Noah to see.

“This one,” Noah pointed at the hoodie, “so we look like twins because you’re wearing a similar hoodie.”

“Great choice,” Lando laughed, setting the clothes on the bed. “I have to start selling some LN4 merch for kids…” he mumbled to himself, still giggling while helping the kid put on the hoodie, carefully guiding his head through the hole and then assisting him with the jeans.

Next up were the shoes. Noah struggled a bit with the laces, so Lando patiently demonstrated how to tie them with the boy sitting on his lap and intensively watching the man make two bows and soon Noah was proudly showing off his neatly tied sneakers.

“You’re all set, bud” Lando said, giving Noah a playful fist bump.

Noah looked down at himself, beaming with pride. “Thanks, I look great.”

“You sure do,” Lando chuckled and a few minutes later they were on their way.

Lando could hardly contain his own excitement as they headed out, Noah chattering away about superheroes and cars. They made their way to a luxurious jewelry store that Lando had carefully selected and once inside Lando crouched down to Noah’s level.

“Okay, buddy, here’s the plan. We’re going to pick out the prettiest ring we can find for your mommy. I want it to be perfect and I need your expert opinion. Do you think you can help me with that?”

The boy nodded proudly. They wandered through the store and he would occasionally stop to inspect a ring with intense focus. Lando enjoyed watching Noah’s careful consideration, amazed at just how seriously the little kid took his task.

After a while, Noah stopped in front of a classic, elegant ring with a solitaire diamond. His eyes grew big and he looked up at Lando with a confident grin. “I think this one is the best! It’s so shiny and pretty!”

Lando studied the ring. It was perfect; timeless and beautiful, just like Y/N. He smiled and nodded, clearly impressed. “I think you’re right. This is the one!”

Noah beamed with pride as the ring was carefully packaged. “I can’t wait to see mommy’s face when she sees it!”

With the ring selected they headed to a nearby fast food restaurant where Lando turned to Noah for ideas for the proposal. Over shared chicken nuggets, fries and milkshakes they came up with a perfect plan and after they had finished their meals and bought the rest of the supplies they would need they quickly made their way home knowing that Y/N was still going to be out for another few hours.

Back at the house they worked together to prepare the living room. They created a colorful path by lining the walls with some pictures Noah quickly drew, depicting past memories the three of them had made together and at the end of the trail is where they were going to wait for her.

When Y/N arrived a few hours later she followed the trail of Noah’s drawings, her heart swelling with emotion as she admired each piece, confused about what was happening but curious to find out what was awaiting at the end of the trail. Eventually she saw Noah with the biggest smile on his face, holding a large sign that read “Will You Marry Lando?”

In the center of the room and next to her son stood Lando, surrounded by Y/N’s favorite flowers and big red shiny heart balloons scattered around him and Noah. He took Y/N’s hand, his voice filled with emotion. “Y/N, we’ve been planning something special for you today.”

Noah, proudly holding the sign and not being able to wait any longer, added, “Mommy, Lando and I picked out a ring for you. We wanted it to be perfect!”

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears as she looked back at Lando who dropped to one knee, holding out the beautiful ring. “Y/N, I love you more than words can express and I want nothing more than to be a family with you and Noah. Will you marry me?”

Overwhelmed with emotion Y/N nodded, tears streaming down her face. “Yes, Lando. Of course I will!”

Noah jumped up and down with joy just as Lando slipped the ring onto Y/N’s finger. They embraced each other tightly, with Noah joining in, sharing kisses knowing that the journey of their little family was just starting.

_____

Click here for Part 10! I can't stop writing this series, send help

Tag: @barcelonaloverf1life @remmysthings @poppyflower-22 @vickykazuya @hadids-world @ririyulife @deafeningunknowntyrant @lexiecampos @littlegrapejuice @eloriis @yawn-zi @landossainz @taliya8346282844eliviahdgdajs @casuallyeating @jaydensluv @destinyg237 @il0vereadingstuff @lnchicagosreads @alana4610 @hc-dutch @cherry-piee @wisestarfishbouquet

#ln4 x reader #lando imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando x reader #lando norris #lando fluff #lando fic #lando x y/n #lando norris x y/n #landonorris #f1 fic #f1 fanfic

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fuckyeahgoodomens · 1 year ago

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Link 1, Link 2 :)

Digital Good Omens 2 Sountrack is coming out in 4 days! 🥳 CD version in October! :) ❤ Coming soon on vinyl…

Out to Stream/Download from 25th August. Out on CD 13th October. Coming soon on vinyl…

David Arnold’s ‘end of the world’ complex and multi-genre soundtrack.

From the Award-winning composer of Sherlock and Casino Royale comes a follow up to the hugely successful, Emmy nominated Good Omens soundtrack.

Good Omens series 2 premiered on Prime Video on 28th July. The series follows the odd couple, angel Aziraphale (Michael Sheen) and demon Crowley (David Tennant) in their quest to sabotage the end of the World. The six-episode sequel to the popular adaptation of the novel by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, concerns the Archangel Gabriel (Jon Hamm) arriving without his memories to Aziraphale’s bookshop. Aziraphale and Crowley attempt to find out what happened to Gabriel, whilst hiding him from Heaven and Hell, both eager to find him.

The Soundtrack

David Arnold’s soundtrack to Good Omens was first released in 2019 to favourable reviews, with BBC Music Magazine calling it “a rollicking trip to hell and back”. Blueprint Magazine described it as “a great listen” and Sci Fi Bulletin commented on “plenty of memorable themes” to conclude that “This is another work of art from Arnold”. At times nostalgic and eerie but always varied, beautiful and full of excitement, the Good Omens 2 soundtrack showcases Arnold’s every skill from his composer arsenal. Featured here are orchestral arrangements with sprinkling of Sugar Plum Fairy pizzicato and percussion, jaunty strings and mighty choral sweeps from Crouch End Festival Chorus. Added to the mix are rock guitar riffs, and psychedelic 70s sounds and all together they create a haunting otherworldly feel, complementing the fantasy and the quirky humour of the show. The spirited Waltz of the opening theme is also present in the second series and it wonderfully sets the scene for fantastical mayhem. In series 2, this robust, evocative, and funny music entity, becomes yet again another character in the story. Award-winning composer David Arnold is well known for his blockbuster scores, including Stargate, The Chronicles of Narnia: the Voyage of the Dawn Treader, Hot Fuzz, Paul, Independence Day, 2 Fast 2 Furious and Casino Royale as well as for his TV work such as Sherlock and Dracula. Also available: The original soundtrack to the first series of Good Omens >

Tracklist

– Disc 1 – Chapter 1: The Arrival 1. Before the Beginning 2. Good Omens 2 Opening Title 3. Into Soho 4. Something Terrible 5. To The Bookshop 6. Maggie and Nina 7. He’s Smoking 8. Tiny Miracle 9. Heavenly Alarm Bells Chapter 2: The Clue 10. Avaunt! 11. The Song is the Clue 12. It’s What God Wants 13. A Mighty Wind 14. Whales 15. Gabriel Returns 16. His New Children 17. Am I Awful Now? 18. Fallen Angel Chapter 3: I Know Where I’m Going 19. Police Arrive 20. Scotland 21. We’re Going to Hell 22. People Get a Choice 23. My Car is Not Yellow 24. Beelzebub in Hell 25. The Book 26. The Fly 27. Mr. Dalrymple 28. We Need to Cut 29. I’m Going to Save Her 30. Crowley Goes Large 31. Not Kind 32. Beelzebub Isn’t Happy – Disc 2 – Chapter 4: The Hitchhiker 33. Hell-O 34. Nazi Zombies 35. March of the Nazi Zombies 36. Crowley Pep Talk 37. The Magic Shop 38. Catch The Bullet 39. Zombies in the Dressing Room Chapter 5: The Ball 40. I’ll Let You Have It 41. We’re Storming a Book Shop 42. Monsieur Azirophale 43. The Candelabra 44. Here Comes Hell 45. Gabriel Gives Himself Up 46. Shax 47. The Circle Chapter 6: Every Day 48. Bin Through the Window 49. Gabriel Leaving Heaven 50. The Halo 51. Gabriel Revealed 52. Gabriel’s Love Story 53. Leaving The Bookshop 54. Gabriel and Beelzebub 55. Crowley and Muriel 56. I Forgive You 57. Don’t Bother 58. The Biggest Decision 59. The End?

#good omens #gos2 #season 2 #GOS2Spoilers #good omens spoilers #music #s2 music #david g arnold #s2 soundtrack #wahoo!#shut up and take my money :D

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headkiss · 2 years ago

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not just on christmas

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: steve’s parents are coming home for the holidays and he’s in need of a fake date. who better than you, his best friend?

word count: 8.2k

warnings: steve’s parents (derogatory), negative comments about his job, fake dating, friends to lovers, christmas themes, fluff, first kiss!

a/n: i had lots of fun with this one and i hope u guys like it!!! merry christmas and happy holidays i hope they treat u all well <33 consider this my gift to you :D

༄

The phone ringing forces Steve out of bed. Floors cool on his feet, the air a chill on his bare chest, he rubs his eyes lazily and picks it up.

“Hello?” He clears his throat to get rid of the sleep in his voice.

“Steve, why do you sound tired, it’s nearly noon!”

It’s no surprise that the first words aren’t asking him how he is. He’s shocked she cared enough to pick up on the tone of his voice at all. “Hi, mom.”

He doesn’t even know where she’s calling from, doesn’t know what business trip they're on. He can’t remember the last time he got a phone call that wasn’t you, or Robin, or Dustin, or anyone else other than his parents.

Steve’s not even excited to be hearing from them, because it’s a reminder that they’re not around, that they haven’t forgotten about him, they just don’t care.

He wishes you were the one that called.

“Listen, sweetie, your dad and I are coming home for Christmas this year, isn’t that great?”

He deflates, “yeah. Super.”

“There’s a business event he wants to take you to. And we’ll find you a date,” there’s the catch. There’s always a catch. “You can make some connections, maybe get out of your job at that video store soon.”

The thing is, he actually likes working at Family Video, but he knows that doesn’t matter. Then there’s the topic of the girlfriend, or lack thereof. His parents are always nagging him about when he’ll settle down, grow roots, or something.

Maybe that’s why he says, “I can get my own date. I have a girlfriend.”

“Oh! That’s fantastic! She’ll have dinner with us, won’t she? What’s her name?”

Like an idiot, he says your name. The first one that came to his mind.

You’re his best friend, and it’s easy to let his thoughts drift to you. The problem is, he has no idea how he’s going to explain this to you, how he can ask you to fake date him just to satisfy his parents for once.

If he wasn’t still on the phone, Steve would be groaning into a pillow right now.

“Okay, sweetie, your dad has a brunch we have to get to. We’ll see you soon!”

“Bye, mom. See you.”

He hangs up and sighs in relief. That feeling is quick to fade when he remembers that he had just named you his girlfriend in the midst of his phone call. He drops his face into his hands, runs them through his hair, and tries to figure out how the hell to bring up the subject with you.

To go along with that, he has to worry about his parents coming home. Though, can they really call it ‘home’ when they’ve been gone for so long? When they’ll leave again after a few days, a week at most?

Most people would be happy, excited, about their parents being around for the holidays. Steve’s not. He’d rather spend it how he has since the two of you became friends. Breakfast at your house with your family—who have become family for Steve, too—presents opened with scented candles burning and Christmas albums spun on the record player.

You went out of your way to include him, and he’s never felt so welcome in his life as he does when he’s with you.

At least, if you agree, you’ll be with him this year, too.

It’s the next day when Steve decides to bring it up. You’re at his house for movie night, which has become a weekly ritual for the two of you. He’s been trying to figure out what exactly to say since he hung up the damn phone. He’s given up and instead hopes it’ll come to him in the moment.

Today, Steve’s quiet, which is unlike him. You know something’s on his mind and you try to avoid asking him about it, trying to let him talk about it on his own time. It’s about halfway through the movie that you change your mind.

He didn’t complain when you showed up with your cheesy Christmas movie choice, he didn’t light-heartedly tease you about your outfit of choice (some festive patterned pajama pants and a sweater that’s so worn there are holes in the neckline), and the most unusual, he didn’t make a single joke or comment as the movie played.

He’s really, really quiet.

You pick up the remote and pause it, “what’s going on with you, Steve?”

He looks at you, catches your eye and sees nothing but genuine concern. Sometimes he hates the way you know him so well. He can never hide anything from you.

“What? Nothing.”

You blink at him, “come on.”

“Fine, okay. Just, don’t say anything until I’m done, please.”

“Okay,” you pretend to zip your mouth shut, ready to listen.

“My mom called yesterday and told me they’re coming home for Christmas, and that there’s this business thing they want me to go to, and that I need a date for it,” he scrubs a hand down his face, trying to hide his embarrassment. “And you know how they’re always on my ass about me being single and stuff so I kind of told her I already had a girlfriend, and maybe I told her that girlfriend is you.”

What?

There’s a lot to process there. Mostly the fact that out of all of the names he could have chosen, he said yours. You wait for him to explain some more, but he’s looking at you like he’s waiting for a reply, so, your mouth is now unzipped.

“So, what exactly does that mean?”

He mutters a curse under his breath. “Um, so, I need you to pretend to be my actual girlfriend while they’re here.”

His use of the word ‘need’ is telling. Steve’s not one to ask for help, not even when he needs it the most but here he is, nervous and a little pink-cheeked, asking for your help.

You let the thought sit in your head for a bit. It’s not hard for you to want to agree. Steve’s your best friend, and you’d do pretty much anything for him. Though, that might also have to do with the fact that you’ve been in love with him for years.

You know more about his relationship with his parents then most do, so if you can make their visit more bearable for him in any way, why wouldn’t you?

“Okay,” you say.

“Okay? Like, you’ll do it?”

“Yeah, sure. I’m happy to help.”

That was a lot easier than Steve thought it’d be. You barely even questioned him before agreeing, and that’s not lost on him.

“Thank you so much, seriously,” he throws his arm over your shoulders, squeezes you to him in a side hug. “It’s only a few days, then we can go back to normal.”

“Easy peasy,” you say, reaching for the remote and hitting play.

Aside from your wanting to help him, to be there for him like you know he would for you, you’re also curious to see what it’s like to be with Steve that way, even if it’s fake. It’s hopeless, the way you love him, like the moon orbiting the earth around and around. Constant.

Sure, those feelings will probably only swell because of the fake relationship, but you’ve been housing them for long enough anyway.

What could go wrong?

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Robin says from the other side of a clothing rack, sifting through the pieces.

She’s the first, and only, person you told about the fake dating thing. Naturally, she decided she’d help you shop for a dress to wear to this business thing and talk about it at the same time.

The mall is decorated, garlands and lights strung, a big Christmas tree lit up in the middle of it all.

“It’s only a couple of days. It’ll be fine.”

“I’m talking about you being in love with him,” she deadpans.

“Robin, not so loud.”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

You know she’s being honest, and though the thought has been at the back of your mind, a whisper, you’d like to believe that you can handle a fake relationship without ruining things because of your big, big feelings.

“I spend time with him alone a bunch. It’s not that much different, okay?”

“Besides the fact that you’ll be calling him boyfriend and acting like it, too, you mean.”

Actually, you’ve been trying not to think about what exactly pretending to be his girlfriend entails. You don’t know if he’ll hold your hand, if he’ll hold you closer than he has before, if he’ll kiss you. You think it might be better to wait and see, to not let the possibilities eat at you.

“I know it sounds bad, but it’s Steve. Nothing major will happen. We’re friends and I’m helping him out.”

Robin’s in a tricky spot. She knows how you feel about Steve, obviously, and though he doesn’t see it yet himself, she knows that Steve feels the same, too. It’s taken a lot to hold herself back from speeding things along, and as much as she wishes this fake relationship plan might be a good push, things usually aren’t so easy.

She can also tell that there’s a lot you’re thinking but not saying, but instead of pushing it, she returns to looking at the dresses. It’s not long before she gasps, pulling one of the rack to show you.

“This one,” she says.

“I don’t know. That won’t look good on me.”

It’s pretty, though. You’ll give her that.

“Shut up, everything looks good on you. Will you at least try it on?” She wiggles the hanger in her hand, “for me?”

“Fine.”

You take it from her, walking back towards the fitting rooms with a grinning Robin in tow. She waits outside the door while you change into the dress.

Once it’s on, looking in the mirror, you don’t even know what to think. You’re not one to feel all that confident in what you wear, or in how you look, but this dress makes you feel pretty. Maybe you should make Robin pick out all of your clothes.

“Let me see!” Robin calls.

You step out of the changeroom, doing a shy little spin when she asks. She’s smiling proudly, like she knows she chose well (which she did). She can’t help but think of how Steve will react, because she knows he feels something for you, she can see it on his face everytime he talks about you. He’s just a dork and he doesn’t realize it. Not yet, at least.

“What do you think?” You ask.

“If Steve’s not already in love with you…”

“Don’t finish that sentence.”

If she does, your brain will conjure up way too many ideas of what could possibly happen. If Steve could really feel the same. If maybe he’ll feel those same butterflies in his stomach that you do, if his heart feels bigger when you’re around. In your dreams, he does.

“I’m trying to tell you you look hot!”

December twenty-third is the day that Steve’s parents come home as well as the night of the business event. You and Steve have tried to figure out how to act like a couple, quizzing each other on things you already know, setting loose boundaries, but you figure after knowing each other for so long, being so close, it won’t feel much different than now. Besides the extra touching, the possibility of kissing.

You’re already at his house when his parents get home, your makeup and outfit for tonight sitting in Steve’s room. The two of you linger near the front door waiting for their arrival, a nervous and jittery welcoming committee.

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway grabs your attention. It’s a clapperboard snapping shut, marking the scene. Action.

“You ready, babe?” He holds out his arm for you to grab, and you do.

“Time to be the best couple ever,” you reply.

Steve grins at you. He has no idea how to thank you for agreeing to do this, how to even explain to you the relief you’re sure to bring. It’s one less thing for his parents to pick and pry at.

The door opens, and you can already feel a change in Steve’s demeanor. He’s standing straighter, stiffer. You squeeze his arm, a reminder that you’re there.

“Steve, sweetie!” His mother barely greets him before moving onto you, “and this is your girlfriend?”

“Hi, Mrs. Harrington.”

If it were someone else’s mother, you’d be hit with the usual ‘oh please, call me (insert name here).’ However, where the Harringtons are concerned, formality is a must. Besides Steve, of course. From what you know, the apple had fallen very, very far from the tree and you mean that as a compliment.

Even after being friends for so many years, this is the first time you’re actually meeting Steve’s parents. It’s clear that he’s never jumped at the opportunity to have his friends around when they’re home. He’s told you about them, and that’s enough for you.

“Steve! Come help me with the bags, would you?” His dad calls from outside, though he says it as a demand rather than a question.

“Yep, coming,” he replies. He kisses the side of your head before going outside, quick and sure, like he’s done it hundreds of times.

“How was your trip, Mrs. Harrington?” You fill the silence.

“Oh, just lovely, thank you,” she moves to the kitchen, expecting you to follow. “The house looks clean. Do you have something to do with that?”

Despite her trying to sound like she’s joking, you know that she truly doesn’t believe that Steve could be the one keeping the place going. As if he hasn’t been doing just that for ages.

“No, no. It’s really Steve.”

Her eyebrows raise, surprised.

Steve and his father walk in before anything else is said—thank God. You shake hands with Mr. Harrington, saying hello and wearing a tight smile. Steve’s quick to come to your side, an arm over your shoulders like a shield. Your hand moves to hold the one resting on your shoulder.

He’s even more tense when his father’s in the room, you’ve noticed. You hold his hand a bit tighter. You wish you could do something to make him feel better, and you hope that this fake relationship will do that at least a little bit.

Meanwhile Steve’s wondering how your presence could make him feel much better than he usually does with his parents around. You’re a comfort beside him, and when he gets the chance, he kisses your head again, whispering a ‘thank you’ into your hair.

The first few hours with Steve’s parents go by dreadfully slow, even with his touch on you most of the time. You’re quickly learning that as a boyfriend—even fake—Steve’s love language is easily physical touch. He has an arm around you, a hand in yours, on your leg, anything.

You’re also learning just how strained his relationship with his parents is. He’d trusted you enough to tell you most of it, but seeing them interact in front of you was different. The backhanded comments, the faces whenever he mentions his job, it makes your heart ache for him.

It’s bad enough that his parents are hardly ever around, but having them act like this when they are? You’re amazed at how good Steve has remained through it all.

When it’s time to get ready for the business party, you’re thankful for the reprieve.

“Think we’re doing a good job?” You ask Steve as he shuts the door to his room.

“They seem to be buying it. Thanks again for doing this.”

“You’ve thanked me like a hundred times, Steve. It’s okay, really.”

You want to tell him that you’re sorry these are the people he has to call family. That he shouldn’t listen to any of the shit they give him about his job or his lack of post-secondary education. That he’s the best boy you’ve ever known.

The problem is, you don’t know how to say all of that without making your feelings for him painfully obvious.

“Just gotta keep it up ‘til Christmas. That’s when they leave.”

“They’re only here for two days?” You knew the trip was going to be short, but forty-eight hours?

“Yeah, something about getting a deal on a cruise. I don’t know.”

He says it so casually, like it’s normal. You guess that for him, it is, but it doesn’t make it any less upsetting.

“Does that mean you’ll come to mine for Christmas day? Like usual?” You ask, hopefully lightening the mood.

“If you’ll have me.”

“Shut up, you’re always welcome. Think my mom likes you more than me anyway,” you nudge his shoulder with yours, then move to bring your stuff into his bathroom to start getting ready.

He leans on the doorframe, watching you set your makeup out on the counter, “she does not.”

“Steve, you have your own stocking hanging on our fireplace. And it’s bigger than mine.”

He smiles genuinely then, the first one since his parents have arrived.

He leaves you to get ready, shutting the bathroom door for when you change. You can still hear him through the door. The opening and closing of his drawers, a curse when he stubs his toe.

So far, pretending to be with Steve has been easy. You’ve acted the same save for the touches or small pecks he’s decided to keep placing on your head or your cheeks. The story you settled on was simple: you met him picking up a movie at Family Video, he asked if you needed company to watch it, the rest is history, blah blah blah.

Steve knocks on the bathroom door when you’re pretty much ready, you glance at yourself one more time in the mirror before opening it.

He stands with his tie in hand, wearing a button up and dress pants. You assume there’s a suit jacket to go along with it, and you think it might kill you. He’s so pretty, and he looks it all of the time but seeing him dressed up is really something.

“You look good, Steve,” you say. Good doesn’t even begin to cover it.

“Thanks. You look- you too.”

Steve’s stunned. He realizes he’s never seen you in anything formal and it’s making him feel all fluttery in his stomach and he doesn’t know what to think of it. He’s always known you’re gorgeous, in an obvious way like how the sky is blue. Now, though, it’s like he can feel it.

He clears his throat quietly and remembers the reason he knocked in the first place, “you don’t happen to know how to tie a tie, do you?”

You’re thankful for the time you decided to learn how when you were bored one day. You take the fabric from his hands, “it’s your lucky day, Steve.”

“Thank you. Didn’t wanna have to go ask my dad.”

He’s almost shy about wanting your help over something so small, his cheeks a little pink, his head bent. You give him a reassuring smile—or what you hope is one—and place the tie around his neck.

His eyes are on you as your hands fiddle with the fabric, doing it up for him. Your eyebrows are slightly scrunched, and he wants to reach out and smooth it out with his thumb. He’s not used to having that urge.

You finish up successfully after having fumbled a little bit, adjusting the tie so it isn’t crooked.

“There you go,” you pat his chest and he hopes you can’t feel his heartbeat, the way it’s quicker than normal.

He has no idea what that’s about.

“Thanks.”

“‘Course.”

He’s still standing close to you, enough that he has to keep his head tilted downwards just a little to be able to look at your face. Your eyes lock onto his, and time seems to slow. You’re so gone for him and you know it, but it almost seems like maybe he’s feeling something too. Just for a moment.

His father calling out that it’s time to go snaps you out of it.

Steve grabs his jacket, shrugging it on then offering you his hand to hold, “let’s do this, girlfriend.”

The hall is oozing Christmas when you walk in, Steve’s hand in yours. Ornaments hang down from the ceiling, warm white string lights line the top of the walls, Christmas music hums through the speakers, and an extravagant Christmas tree sits in the middle of the room.

You’ve never been to an event like it, and you have a hard time keeping your nerves at bay.

Pretending in front of Steve’s parents alone was one thing. Now, the stakes are higher. You have to be convincing and though it’s not difficult for you to pretend to be in love with Steve (you don’t have to fake that at all), you worry that you’ll slip up somehow and give yourself away. Both in the sense that the relationship is fake, and that your feelings are anything but.

It’s not long before Steve’s father gets pulled into a conversation, and his mother goes along with him. You’re left standing near the doorway with Steve, biting at the inside of your cheek.

“Relax,” he leans his head close to yours and whispers.

“Sorry. I’m just nervous.”

“We’re fine. You’re fine,” he squeezes your hand, something that’s quickly become a wordless reassurance between you. “We’ve done good so far, right?”

“I guess so.”

“Okay, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

Except for the fact that I love you and that you being a really good fake boyfriend isn’t helping.

“Okay.”

He smiles and leads you further into the room. The smile he gives you is different from the one he gives the people that say hi to him, the people that stop him for a chat. For you, it’s honest. For them, it doesn’t reach his eyes, it doesn’t mean anything.

“About time you tied someone down, Steve,” a man says to him. A coworker of his father’s, just like most men in the room.

“Think she’s the one who got me, but yeah.”

“That’s sweet. Next step is to get you a stable job, huh?”

It seems like all anyone here is concerned about is what people do, who they know. It’s no fun for you and they aren’t even speaking to you directly most of the time.

“Sure. Good to see you,” Steve excuses the both of you from the conversation.

“These people suck,” you say to him, leading him to the bar set up in a corner.

“Tell me about it.”

You order water for the both of you, something to get rid of the dryness in your throat and occupy you for a bit. You drink quietly before Steve speaks up.

“You look beautiful, by the way.”

He doesn’t know why it slips out now, but it does. The thought has been on his mind since he saw you standing there in his bathroom, and it’s getting harder and harder to ignore.

“You don’t have to say that, Steve. Nobody’s listening.”

“I mean it, seriously.”

“Oh,” you look down at your glass, at the condensation running down the side. The corners of your mouth lift, “thank you.”

“I know this isn’t the most fun, but I’m glad you’re here with me,” he admits. He’s always been sweet to you, but this feels different. You don’t know how or why, but it does.

“I am too.”

Steve’s dad interrupts your moment, pulling Steve off to meet some people. Already, there’s a guard being put up by him, a shield he saves for his father.

For those few minutes, where it was just you and Steve, you realized that he’s probably the best date you’ve ever had. He pays attention to you, he’s comforting without even trying, and he compliments you with so much honesty you could melt.

He’s the best date you’ve ever had and it’s fake. It’s becoming a mantra repeated in your head; it’s not real, it’s not real.

Lost in thought, you don’t notice the boy who’s sat next to you now.

“I’ve never seen you before,” he says.

“I’m not usually at these things. I came with my boyfriend,” you tell him, unsettled by his stare.

“And where is this boyfriend now?”

“He’s out there. I just needed some water but he’ll come back soon.”

You’re trying to get him to go away, to take the hint. He won’t.

“Why don’t I keep you company in the meantime?”

You’re about to reply when someone else does it for you, “not necessary. She’s my girl.”

My girl. Steve. He stands behind you, wraps his arms around your waist. It’s like he knew you needed him then, showing up as soon as you felt like you wanted to search for him. He runs his hands over your sides, a possessive touch that has your skin tingling.

“My bad, man. Thought she was lying about the boyfriend,” the guy says.

“She wasn’t. Even if she was, maybe you should learn to tell when someone isn’t interested, yeah?”

The stranger nods and walks off.

You spin in Steve’s hold, facing him. “My hero.”

“You know me,” he shrugs.

What he doesn’t say is that seeing another guy talk to you made his gut churn, bringing something that he didn’t want to admit was jealousy. He also saw the look on your face, the discomfort, and felt his feet carry him over before his mind could think it first.

His hands are still on your waist, even with the stranger gone.

It’s not until Steve’s parents are ready that you leave. They’ve taken advantage of the champagne that sat on trays, free for the taking, as well as the opportunity to talk up their son to many, many people. It seems they’re only proud of him when there’s other people around, and even then, the praise doesn’t hold much weight.

He’s trying his best. At least he’s working. He’s got a girlfriend now. No, he doesn’t host backyard parties while we’re gone anymore.

You wish you could speak up, but you know, with this many people around, it’d cause more harm than good. It’s hard to listen to the people that raised Steve talk about him the way they do. You want so badly to shout in their faces how brilliant he is, no thanks to them. How he has the kindest soul and a sort of midas touch that makes everything shine.

At least, you think he does. You promise yourself to love him better than they ever did, even if it’s in secret.

One memory from the night overpowers the rest, luckily. ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’ played, a slower rendition, and a slow dance ensued. You watched couples split off, and when you looked at Steve, he was already looking at you, a question on his face and a hand outstretched.

You fell into step with him quickly. It wasn’t awkward for a second. One of your hands in his, the other on his shoulder, his on your waist. You swayed together, unknowingly moving closer until you were close enough to rest your head on his chest. And you did.

He rested his head atop of yours and hummed the song softly. You’ll dream about that dance, probably.

Now, you sit in the car with Steve, who’s become the driver. He drops his parents off at his house first, leaving the two of you alone for the drive to yours. He sneaks glances at you at stop signs and red lights, turning back to the road when he thinks he’s been caught.

His mind is full because he’s looking at you in a way he hasn’t before. He sees parts of you that he was blind to before. The shape of your lips, for example. The dip of your spine and the way it feels to hold you. It’s dizzying and warm, confusing and sparkling all at once.

Once he’s pulled up to your house, he offers to walk you to the door. Ever the gentleman. A romantic no matter how much he denies it, you think. He gets misty-eyed when you watch rom-coms, opens doors for you, has bought flowers for nearly all of his dates, as far as you know.

What must it be like to receive flowers from Steve Harrington?

He faces you on your front porch, hands in his pockets, “thank you again for doing this.”

“How many times do I have to tell you it’s okay. I’m happy to help you, Steve. You’re my best friend.” Who I love more than anyone.

“You’re mine, too, honey.”

It’s not the first time he’s called you that. Turns out, it was his default to use in your fake relationship. It is, however, the first time he’s said it when it’s just the two of you. It sounds sweet coming from his lips, sticky. Just like honey itself.

“What time should I be over for dinner tomorrow?” You ask. It’s the last hurdle of the fake dating.

“How ‘bout I come pick you up after I finish work?”

“Yeah, okay, that’d be great, thanks.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, the cold of December biting your skin.

“Here,” Steve notices, of course he does, and he reaches out with his hands, rubbing them up and down your arms to warm you.

“How’re your hands still warm?” You ask.

“I'm magic.”

You smile at that. He has no idea.

He reaches up with one hand to cup your cool cheek, and you nudge your face into his touch. For the warmth, you tell yourself. That’s it. His thumb runs over your skin, once, twice.

“Did I ever tell you that you have a pretty smile?” He says it so quietly you almost miss it. You don’t, though, and there’s a swarm of butterflies in your gut because of it.

“Shut up,” you try to mask your bashfulness.

Then, just like that, his face is close to yours. So close that it looks like he might kiss you. His eyes flick from your mouth up to yours, like he’s unsure of what’s happening while he’s doing it.

You can feel his breath tickling your lips, the ghost of his mouth on yours. Before that can happen, he’s swerving away quickly, planting a kiss on your cheek instead. The one he isn’t holding. His mouth lingers for a second.

“Goodnight,” he whispers against your skin.

“Night,” you say, dazed. And he’s walking away.

Steve’s not at all sure what’s come over him. He wanted to kiss you just then, to tangle his fingers in your hair and kiss you stupid. What the fuck was happening to him?

When you let your eyes flutter shut, your mouth parted slightly, like you’d let him kiss you, like you wanted it, too, he panicked. Couldn't do it.

No, he doesn’t know what just happened, why it did, or why he’s resisting the urge to go back and knock on your door and actually kiss you when you open it. What he does know is that his heart seems to be doing something funny when you’re around, and that your fake relationship has been better than any of his real ones.

He knows he needs to talk to Robin about this.

Steve had to work the next morning—Christmas Eve—which he was actually thankful for. Thankful to get away from his parents, though the comments about his job followed him out the door this morning. Especially thankful because he needs to talk to Robin and sort out the mess of his feelings that has occurred in the last twenty four hours.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how much he wanted to kiss you. About how his stomach was all twisty when you slow danced with him. There are so many moments playing over in his memory. Not just from yesterday, either.

He remembers the way his stomach would sink when you’d tell him about a date you had or how he’d often reach out a hand to tuck your hair behind your ear, or to wipe something away from the corner of your mouth.

So many things over your friendship that he never thought about are coming back to him and he’s realized he doesn’t act that way with any of his other friends. Only you.

He also realizes that he hasn’t really been pretending with you at all.

“I think I love her,” Steve blurts out while he and Robin are organizing returns, the store luckily empty.

Robin reaches into her pocket, barely fazed, and tosses a handful of confetti at Steve. Some pieces stick to his hair, some to his clothes, most of it at his feet.

“What the hell?” He shakes the flecks out of his hair, “we have to clean that now.”

“I’ve been carrying around confetti for like a year waiting for this to happen!”

“Wait, what?”

“Steve, you’ve been loving her for a long time, hate to break it to you.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” He’s no longer preoccupied with the confetti.

“I was letting you do it on your own time. You’re welcome.”

Steve had only just deduced that he’s in love with you and yet, when he thinks about you, he feels the same way he has for years. He finds it hard to believe that he’s been blind to it for that long, but he has been called an idiot enough in his lifetime for it to make sense.

Then, there’s the fact that you’re not done fake dating yet, that there’s still dinner today to get through and he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to keep himself together.

“What am I gonna do, Robin?”

“You’re gonna tell her how you feel and I will finally know peace.”

“What if she doesn’t feel the same? What if I freak her out?”

“Steve, she looks at you like sun shines from your pores,” she places a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be fine.”

He picks you up after work as promised, his hands holding the wheel a little tighter, his greeting a little louder than normal. You figure he’s just nervous about dinner.

Nobody brings up the almost kiss, and you don’t plan to. Maybe you read things wrong. Maybe he was aiming for your cheek all along. Maybe he’s been thinking about it as much as you have.

It seems that your feelings for Steve are present now more than ever. Impossible to ignore. It might have something to do with the Christmas spirit floating around, the lightness of the holidays. It definitely has something to do with you being Steve’s fake girlfriend.

Because it turns out, he’s an excellent boyfriend, real or not.

He opens doors for you, even if he has to jog ahead of you to do it. He’s always got at least one hand on you, warm and sure. He looks at you with so much care, his brown eyes stuck on you.

It’s all adding up and you feel like your love for him is overflowing, pouring out of you before you can reel it in. You just hope he doesn’t notice that you’re not acting, that you never were.

Walking into Steve’s kitchen, you pause in the doorway, him behind you, “this smells great, Mrs. Harrington.”

Though Steve knows she probably bought most of the stuff and then put it in pots and pans to make it look like she cooked, he agrees, “so great, mom.”

She turns to look at you both from her spot by the stove, “thank you. Oh!” She cuts herself off with a gasp, her gaze drifting above your heads.

Oh no.

“Mistletoe,” she says, pointing.

“Look at that,” you laugh, short and awkward.

“Steve, sweetie, kiss your girlfriend for tradition's sake, won’t you.”

He kisses you on the cheek.

“A real one, son,” his father pipes up from his seat at the table.

Steve finds your gaze, his eyes wide and questioning. Are you okay with this? He’s asking without saying it. You nod, barely there, but you nod and he sees it.

He cups your cheek in his hand, flashes of last night on your porch come to you. He leans in slowly, like he’s waiting for you to stop him. Instead of doing that, you hold his wrist in your hand, squeeze it. Your silent communication.

In a blink, his lips are on yours. Pillowy and almost shy, but he’s kissing you and you feel like you’re floating, your feet off the ground and everything. He pulls away before you can even register the fact that it happened.

Your heartbeat is loud in your ears, your lips still burning with the memory of his.

Steve can't believe he hasn’t kissed you before. You’re soft and you fit together so well, like the final piece of a jigsaw puzzle clicking into place. He’s kicking himself for not doing it last night, when you were alone, when it was real. Next time he kisses you, he thinks, it will be real.

He clears his throat, tearing his eyes away from you, “so, let’s eat.”

Just like that, he’s moving to the table, pulling out a chair for you and kissing the top of your head once you’ve sat down. Already, the extra affection he’s been giving you has been dizzying. Now, it’s dialed way up.

He helps his mom serve the food before he sits down, though all he gets as a thank you is a pat on the cheek. Next to you, you can see Steve’s leg bouncing up and down. You reach out and place a hand above his knee, stilling him and drawing his gaze to yours.

You smile, and you hope it’s enough to say it’s okay, it’s all gonna be fine. He rests his hand on top of yours, fingers laced together.

“So, Steve, have you been looking for jobs?” His father speaks up. The never-ending topic.

“No, dad. I have a job,” Steve doesn’t look up from his plate, pushing mashed potatoes around with his fork.

“Well, a real job, I mean.”

At Steve’s silence, his mom adds, “we just think, especially now that you have a girlfriend to support, you should look for something… better.”

You look up when she says it, eyes wide and hand tensing on Steve’s leg. You don’t understand how they care so much about what he does and so little about how he feels. He likes his job, you know that, and he’s tried to tell them multiple times over the past couple of days.

And still.

It’s impossible for you to sit by and listen to them talk to him the way they do, like he isn’t good enough. Like the only defining thing is his job, which isn’t even a bad one. What defines him is who he is as a person and he’s the best one in your life.

“Why does it matter so much?” You ask.

His parents look at you, surprised to be questioned, it seems. Steve looks at you, too, with something more like astonishment, appreciation.

“I’m sorry,” you continue, “it’s just, you haven’t seen your son in how long? And all you guys keep bringing up is his job, which he’s told you he actually enjoys. Shouldn’t that be enough for you?”

Steve’s world is tinting pink, heart-shaped lenses over his eyes hearing you defend him. Nobody’s ever tried to go against his parents for him, and here you are. Fuck, he loves you.

They’re quiet, and you’re not finished. “Steve is the greatest person I’ve ever met, and that’s no thanks to you. I’ve known him for a long time and not once have I seen you guys around. How can you judge him so much when you don’t even take the time to know him anymore?”

The room is dead quiet. Nothing but the clinking of forks against plates for the rest of the meal. You feel lighter, after saying what you did. Though you’re also terrified that you’ve overstepped, that Steve will be upset with you for causing a scene.

As if sensing your worry, he holds your hand just a bit tighter.

It’s not until after dinner, hidden away in his room, that you talk about what happened. Not the kiss; your outburst.

He shuts his door and you’re already apologizing, “listen, Steve. I'm so sorry if I made things worse, but I couldn’t just let them shit on your job anymore. I couldn’t. You’re my best friend, you know that, and-”

His arms are around you in a blink.

“Thank you,” he breathes into your hair. “Nobody’s ever done anything like that for me. Thank you, honey.”

“Oh,” you blink away your surprise and wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Anytime.”

“You’re really special.”

Your smile spreads, spilling before you can do anything about it. You hide your face in his neck and stay that way until he lets go, a flush in his cheeks and stars in his eyes.

Steve wanted to tell you he loves you right then, but the words seem stuck in his throat. They won’t come up. He wants to be with you for real, and though it happened in a rush, it also didn’t. His brain just needed to catch up to his heart.

He doesn’t say it, but he will. As soon as he can.

“Wanna go watch a movie?” You ask.

“Yeah, okay.”

Movie night. You and him. That’s real.

Steve’s parents seem to have gone out somewhere, the car missing from the driveway. They haven’t left, though. You and Steve checked for the suitcases (they’re sitting, already packed, in their room).

Playing the movie, yet another Christmas pick that Steve couldn’t say no to, you share a blanket. There’s plenty of room on the couch, you’re the only people there, and yet, Steve still tosses an arm over your shoulders and pulls you to lean against his side.

Maybe he’s just doing it in case his parents come home while you’re downstairs. That’s gotta be it.

“Is it bad that I’m sort of relieved they aren’t here right now?” Steve says to you, quiet.

“Not at all. You deserve better than what they give you, Steve.”

“You think so?”

“Are you kidding? I know so.”

He lets his head lean atop of yours, and that’s that.

You want to bring up the kiss, but then again, why would you? It’s not real. It’s not real no matter how much you wish it was, no matter how much it feels that way. You knew going into this that you might end up kissing Steve, you just didn’t know it’d fuck you up so much.

Part of you hopes that mistletoe will appear above your heads yet again, just to be able to feel the way you did when he kissed you. Heart fluttering, stomach twisting, warm all over.

Though Steve’s head feels relaxed, resting on yours, it’s overflowing with thoughts. You, his parents, the way you defended him, how it felt to kiss you, how much he wants to do it again. You. The entire length of the movie, he’s trying to think of a way to tell you he loves you. The best he comes up with is to wing it.

When the screen fades, and the film ends, you remember the gift you’d left in Steve’s room, buried at the bottom of your overnight bag (you decided to sleep over, something you’ve done too many times to count, and head to your place in the morning with Steve). You sit up, only to face him.

“I have something for you. C’mon,” you tug on his hand, leading him all the way to his own bedroom.

“What?”

“Just,” you make him sit down on his bed when you’re in the room, digging through your bag and finding the present you’d wrapped last night. “Here.”

He takes it from your hand slowly, like it’s the most precious thing in the world. He doesn’t open it right away, staring at the red and green patterned wrapping paper and the gold stick-on bow sitting in the middle of it.

“Open it,” you urge, shuffling nervously on your feet.

He shoots you a shy smile before tearing at the paper, revealing a scrapbook of sorts. Flipping through the pages, he finds memories upon memories. Pictures of you and him, of him and Robin, all three of you. Some with the kids or with Eddie. Most of them he doesn’t even remember taking.

And it’s more than just pictures. There’s movie tickets and receipts from random fast food dinners, confetti from a surprise party for Dustin and a piece of a plate Steve broke once.

It’s the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever given him. It reminds him that he does have a family, no blood relation needed.

“Honey,” he says it quietly, his eyes watering ever so slightly. “This is- I don’t even know what to say.”

“I know it’s not much, but I thought you’d like it.”

“No. I love it. It’s perfect, seriously,” he runs his finger over a picture of the two of you, your faces squished together and your smiles absolutely ridiculous. “Best gift ever.”

He means it.

“I had some help with the pictures. Everyone in that book loves you, Steve.”

Everyone in that book. That means you love him, too. He knows that you could mean it platonically, but something about the way you look at him when you say it makes him think that he has to tell you. He has to try.

He’s suddenly very glad he bought you a locket for Christmas, and that he left it unwrapped because of his lack of skills in that department.

“Close your eyes,” he says.

“Steve-”

“Please,” he trades spots with you, sitting you on the edge of his bed, “close your eyes for a minute, ‘kay?”

“Okay,” you shut them tight, placing a hand over them as well, “double closed.”

He rushes to grab the locket from the bottom of one of his drawers, then grabs the tiniest bit of paper and manages to write as small as he can on it, placing the message in the necklace and closing it with a small click.

Steve reaches for the hand that isn’t covering your eyes, opening it up and placing the delicate piece of jewelry in it. “Okay, open.”

You do, glancing down to what rests in your palm. It’s gorgeous, dainty, and the corners of your mouth lift at the sight of it.

“It’s beautiful, Steve. You didn’t have to.”

“It’s a locket,” he says. His head is bent, shy and visibly nervous. “Open it, too.”

Your heartbeat picks up, like you know, subconsciously, that something big is hiding inside despite the small size of the necklace itself. You wedge your fingernail into the gap, pushing the locket open. The note inside makes your stomach drop.

In his messy, rushed writing, the words ‘I love you.’

You look at him, mouth agape and hopes way up. “Steve?”

“I mean it.”

“How-”

“I mean I’m in love with you, and I think I have been for a really, really long time. I guess it took you being my fake girlfriend for me to realize it.”

“You’re not pranking me, are you?”

You’ve spent so long loving him, and convincing yourself that he could never love you the same, that it feels unreal. Hazy, like a dream.

He sits beside you, cupping your face in his hands softly to make you look at him, “I’m not pranking you. I love you.”

“Holy shit. I love you, too. For so long. I never thought I had a chance with you.”

“I think you’re the only person who’s had a real chance with me since I met you, honey.”

Right there, discarded wrapping paper on the floor, the glow of Christmas lights shining through the window, you doubt you’ll ever take that locket off once it’s on.

You can’t stop yourself from rushing forward and kissing him. A small press of your mouth against his at first, then, it’s more. It’s slow and every single thing you’ve ever wanted. His lips move with yours like they’re the only ones that know you.

This time, when you kiss, there’s no question. It’s real and it’s thawing every single worry you ever had about this. This is real, you get to think now.

Steve pulls away only when your breathing gets heavier, only when he absolutely has to. His thumb trails over your cheek, a lover’s touch. He takes the necklace from your hand, puts it on for you and kisses you again when he’s done.

“Do you think this was a Christmas miracle?” You say, teasing.

“I think this was just me being too stupid to notice how I feel about you. I know now, though.”

“Because you needed a fake girlfriend.”

“Because I needed a fake girlfriend,” he confirms. “But, I’d like a real one now.”

“I think I can manage that,” you nod, a lovesick smile on your face.

For once, Steve’s glad his parents came home. He never would have asked you to fake date him if they hadn’t, and he wouldn’t have realized his very real feelings for you, either. So, maybe it is a Christmas miracle, after all.

༄

hey you! if you enjoyed please consider leaving a reblog, it would mean a lot and helps a ton more than you’d think! help support creators like me <3

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headspace-hotel · 2 years ago

Text

facts about The Fear, after 20 years of life with her

The Fear is NOT:

an intruder, invader, or some other entity from "outside" You

inappropriate, wrong, or incorrect

a responsibility

a punishment

"irrational" or otherwise able to be understood through a relationship to "rationality"

an "inaccurate" representation of reality

The Fear IS:

an innate part of you

extra-rational—she exists outside and completely independent from "rationality" and does not respond to being judged according to that lens

self-love—her purpose is to protect you and keep you safe

self-sufficient—fear is a 100% whole, complete entity that doesn't "represent" or "reflect" something else

earnest—fear is always a 100% real experience that is exactly as it is felt, and, needing no comparison or reference to any external reality, it is not "dishonest" or "inaccurate"— it asserts a claim about only itself

subversive [not quite the word I am looking for but it will have to do]— is not necessarily beholden to social and cultural norms of what should be feared, how much, and how you should respond. She does not stop existing in the absence or suppression of vocabulary to describe her.

a demand for care— she does not just communicate to you but to the community you are part of; she calls attention to an obligation that this community has toward you, to make sure that you are safe within it and that your experiences are heard and understood.

yeah, so, i've had severe anxiety for my whole life and the way it's been treated and dealt with, and the way I've been taught to understand it, has really fucked me up so I am trying to lay the groundwork for understanding it differently

I think it's pretty fucked up that we're taught to see anxiety as deceptive or inaccurate. Now, obviously the images or projections in my fearful thoughts do not usually "reflect reality," but I have come to see this as...not particularly important?

Teaching an anxiety sufferer to restructure their thoughts to dismiss and contradict "irrational" fear is, in my opinion, the same as teaching a chronic pain sufferer to restructure their thoughts to dismiss and contradict pain with no clear physical source. You might as well speak of "irrational" pain, and pain has the same relationship to rationality that fear has.

"Irrationality" is a quality assigned to fear that is judged by an outside observer, or by the collective cultural biases and hang-ups of a society, as not appropriate to a given situation. This is total fucking nonsense and we should be talking about that, because...well, the first reason is that it implies some kind of fixed standard for what fear ultimately is and isn't for. i like to tell people to watch one of those Coyote Peterson videos where he's going to get a tarantula hawk wasp to sting him, because he's obviously having a strong physical fear response, even though he knows it won't kill him. Is it "rational" to fear suffering and not just death? How much suffering? Sit with that one a little while.

The second reason, which is even more convincing, is that the "rational" brain is not consulted at any point, ever, when a person feels afraid. It's just a response. The fear response is not routed through the conscious, sapient, reasoning brain. And thank God, because if we needed to hear back from an upstairs executive before we could decide whether to run from a lion, our species would be extinct.

Techniques like Cognitive Behavioral Therapy were absolute fucking shit at making my life any better, but fantastic at wrecking my ability to identify my own emotions, because Cognitive Behavioral Therapy for anxiety basically amounts to trying to brainwash yourself into thinking you don't feel the emotions that you do. It's a really neat way to develop bizarre psychosomatic symptoms and start experiencing anxiety through constant body pain, swollen lymph nodes, and digestive issues.

For an institution that pathologizes having "alters," psychiatry sure loves to encourage a suffering person to view normal and ultimately good parts of themselves as distinct, intruding entities to be shoved in a closet somewhere.

And yes. Fear is ultimately a good part of you, a part of you that loves you.

What began to set me free was feeling that acid terror and sickness and rage course through my body and realizing—really realizing—that I was being illuminated with this ancient, powerful force driving me to LIVE.

I want us to make it. I want you to live.

And you know what, I want me to live too.

I abandoned the doctrine of calming down—Lord knows it had never worked anyway—and started really just exploring and existing in the Fear.

How did that feel? Bad. Very very very very very bad and really not productive or helpful at all initially. Which was unavoidable. Necessary. She had been frantically clawing to communicate with me for so long, and I had been shutting her away, silencing her, resenting her presence in my psyche. I started trying to show gratitude toward the signals my body gave me. I started trying to show gratitude toward her—and i guess the Fear was a Her now, this just seemed more respectful.

And it seemed like nothing happened, but several things happened.

I stopped searching for validation. That was a big one. At some point I just...stopped needing a "reason" or justification for the fear I felt (trauma???? neurodivergence???? neurodivergence trauma????) and the fact that I experienced it became completely sufficient and satisfying to me. So much guilt and confusion disappeared.

I also became steadily more confident about my own boundaries, particularly in regards to recovery.

It's awful now that I think about it, but I think I felt this sense of almost moral obligation towards "recovery," as if I needed to "overcome fear" to be Courageous and Virtuous. It made me feel crushing guilt to feel any hesitation about this.

But then this started to change. It became more real to me that was the only person affected by the steps I did or didn't take toward recovery, and there was no moral dimension to it. A therapist couldn't put me in a box I wouldn't willingly go into.

Freedom from these judgmental frameworks is really important to me. I think that I always hated the idea of getting "better" because it seemed like "better" would mean just getting better at submitting to things I was afraid of while everything felt just as bad as it always did on the inside.

And on some level—even though I could never put it into words at the time—I violently hated the idea of "recovery" from some of my fears because it seemed like the ultimate denial of agency. I didn't want to "become okay with it"—the possibility felt dehumanizing. It felt awful.

And I realize now that this is because The Fear represented something I needed to have a right to. Many of my most life-destroying fears centered around things being done to my body, and if I could have pressed a button and been no longer afraid, I wouldn't have, even though it would have spared me so much suffering, because...I needed it to be okay to want agency over my body. I needed it to be right. The Fear, in this case, was a demand that my body be treated as sacred.

I realized that there were many cases where The Fear was a territorial claim of sorts, a demand that certain needs be honored and met—She needs this. This is FUCKING non-negotiable.

And it really...prompted me to look backward on my life and see The Fear differently: not as a responsibility I had failed to shoulder (me?? a little child??? responsible?? Responsible for being brave, when every day felt like facing a firing squad?????) but as a collective responsibility

Because I was not alone in those memories—I was surrounded by adults that saw me suffering, and often dismissed, ignored or ridiculed it. The Fear grew larger and larger; why?—to protect me. Because teachers, nurses, doctors, and camp counselors did not do any of the thousand thousand things they could have done to make that little girl feel safe. Because my well-meaning parents praised me when I was "brave" but I, a little kid, literally couldn't communicate how awful it always felt.

The Fear was not there to torture me. The Fear was and is doing her best to keep me safe. It's not wrong, there's no need for guilt. It just is.

It doesn't feel good. But maybe one day it will feel better.

#anxiety #mental illness #psych critical #autism

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moongreenlight · 16 days ago

Text

Like 800 words of a Ghoap x Reader fic I've been sitting on for way too long. School is hard. Life is busy. I love you and miss you.

Premise: Ghost is a porn director, Soap is an actor, you're Ghost's girlfriend.

mdni. nsfw below the cut.

Ghost abusing his authority over Soap and getting him to come in early/late to shoots so he can get a few ‘warm-up’ shots in (bending Soap over the chaise in his dressing room) or randomly calling for ‘emergency shoots’ (he wants to take a shitty iPhone video of Soap on his hands and knees gagging on his cock).

It started out as a means to end Johnny’s bitching. He refused to take performance boosters, citing some bullshit argument about how “if athletes cannae use them, neither can I.” A non-argument, Ghost thought. But still, he found himself bullying the man into a tech room and letting him grind on the toe of his boot until he spilled his mess on the floor. It didn’t solve the problem. Like giving a begging dog table scraps.

Johnny apparently needed his cock milked before any shoot where he was expected to come on camera. Howled like a bitch in heat until Ghost appeased him, and even after that it was touch and go.

But then there was his dove. Dutifully waiting for him every night. Sweeter, more soft than Soap. Less whining, similar resistance, but took easier to his guiding hand. Never had any issue with his work. Never a flare of jealousy when he spent most of his day staring at writhing naked bodies.

Simon figured out somewhere in his balancing act that he was able to work out some of his aggression on Johnny. Brat takes it better. He doesn’t get a feeling like stones are being slowly added to the pressure on his ribs when he sees Soap’s big blue eyes get teary. He’s gentler with his dove. Takes his time because he can.

He’s fantastic at keeping his work and private lives completely separate. Fucking exemplary. You’d think they were entirely different planets the way he seemed to turn completely off to them.

Ghost finds himself net neutral on the situation. It’s like picking between his left and right hand to fist over his cock. More an issue of convenience. Not like he’s got a standout sex drive, it mostly just happens as appeasement. Get Johnny to quit sodding griping, keep the dove happy in her cage.

But of course, worlds collide. They always do when they revolve so close to one another. There’s bound to be a rotation in the axis that sends them smashing into one another.

And of course it happens on a day where Johnny is entirely out of control. Whining in scenes, ruining takes, wasting film and time; time he’s paid- fucking handsomely- to be pleasant for.

Ghost hears her before he sees her. Standing next to one of the cameras with a cigarette clamped between his teeth, glowering down the barrel at Soap who was making a sour face and rubbing oil onto the back of some actress with a thin towel covering her modesty. His ears are tuned to the frequency of her voice, picking it out with ease amongst the dull chatter that had flared since the cameras stopped rolling even from all the way down the hall.

She was chatting with the receptionist who no doubt chose to walk her where she needed to be to bask in the warmth that was her company. His bird had that effect on people. Always sweet and sunshine. Saved the sharp wit and snark for home or to be whispered in his ear. Trained perfectly by his expert hand.

He didn’t bother looking away from Johnny when she walked in the door. Now engaged in some sort of silent staring contest. Ghost glaring down the crook of his nose at the smaller man. He couldn’t quite pick out if the look in Johnny’s eyes was disdain or desire. They were synonymous at this point. Shame he couldn’t sort out that attitude of his properly now. Save everyone the fucking tantrum.

He calls for a cut. Gruffs out a tight 5 and reset. Tosses his cigarette to the ground and crushes it under the heel of his boot. He doesn’t have the time to turn around before he hears two planets collide.

“- you lookin’ for a role, bonnie? Ye know, I’ve got connections ‘round here. Make ye a star in fifteen minutes.”

Her laugh is honest and amused. It cuts straight through the sound of the studio and rings like church bells.

“Oh, I dunno. I’m a terrible read.”

He looks over his shoulder and sees Johnny tying the belt of his robe in a lazy knot over his hip. More decorative than anything seeing as the plush thing is cast open all the way down his torso. Exposing, with painfully obvious intention, the gloss of oil on skin and the whorls of dark hair that decorate his chest.

“Dinnae believe that for a minute. ‘Sides, pretty girl like you hardly needs to talk. Bet we could work out a scene where you only have to open your mouth for-”

He’s cut off when the receptionist knocks her shoulder into his and throws him a warning look on her way out. It doesn’t strike the chord it should, but it fulfills the end goal all the same.

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lunavrse · 9 months ago

Text

DREAM GIRL

CHARLES LECLERC

summary ★ : charles decides to take a page out of justin bieber's book. let's see how that works out for him.

category ★ : smau.

notes ★ : disregard all times and dates, they don't matter. all spelling mistakes are intentional. everything is fake and unrealistic but thank you delusion. terrible flirting and the usual type of jokes/language you see on the internet.

me basically:

tagged: yourbestfriend

Liked by yourbestfriend, yourfriend, user61 and 147 272 others

youruser so proud of ﹫yourbestfriend, she absolutely killed it and even took some cool pictures of me💚🥂 new video coming 🔜

View all 534 comments

yourbestfriend thank you for coming my love💚

youruser always😘

yourbestfriend it's not hard when you have such a gorgeous subject

youruser thank yewww

user6 stunning 😍

user12 you look amazing and ﹫yourbestfriend did fantastic!

user89 THE DRESS🤩

youruser i knowww, it's from meshki

user3 you're a beauty

user62 i need to know where the dress is from 🙏

youruser it's from meshki !

user56 can't wait to stare at the screen for the next few hours

user47 isn't her videos usually like 20~45 minutes?

user56 i know what i said

user1 oh !

user9 she did her big one😌

user11 pretty!

yourfriend serving face and body

youruser 🤍🤍🤍

user24 face card is lethal

user61 ﹫charles_leclerc

user60 ❤️🔥

user77 can we get a little commotion for the dress🗣️🗣️

Liked by pierregasly, user61, landonorris and 516 382 others

charles_leclerc who is she? if anyone knows, please tag her.

View all 3 272 comments

user4 nah, this guy

user26 this is crazy.

user92 WHAT IS GOING ON ?!!?!!

user5 is this real? like am i actually seeing this?

user15 he's got to have been hacked

user25 ain't no way

user13 actively going insane thanks to this actually.

user8 giving me flashbacks to december 8th, 2015

user14 i've got ptsd 😭

user10 from what? the war?

user49 bros acting like they were in a war💀

user8 it was a tough time to be a jb fan 😭

user3 IM CRYING

maxverstappen1 is this who we are, is this what we represent??

user3 max is done💀💀

charles_leclerc i said i had a plan, not that it was a good one mate

user1 wish it was me he's looking for

user45 that's me!

user86 in your dreams maybe

user58 get over yourself<3

user20 ﹫youruser

user67 She's so pretty, I want to cry

user76 she's so pretty, i want her

user48 ^^two types of people

user93 my brother in christ, stand up!!!

user50 BRO FORGOT HE'S FAMOUS😭🔥🗣️

user07 he's just like me fr

user84 mans is moving mad📢

user100 this is embarrassing

user34 think im gonna be sick

user30 don't be so dramatic

user51 i don't blame her

user70 she's obviously the prettiest girl ever🙄

user68 ﹫youruser !

user97 that's me !

user59 I'm gonna go cry myself to sleep now

user31 side eye

user29 who is she? she's stunning

user40 why is my fav youtuber in this picture

user46 iconic actually

user17 I know we can't see her face clearly, but she's serving

user21 i know her!

user37 what's her ﹫

user21 it's ﹫youruser, i follow her

user101 i want harry styles to do this but with me

user88 me too lol

user65 this is down bad behaviour

user201 thanks for ruining my day 👍

user248 it's giving wattpad vibes

user119 charles, look at me, this isn't you, think about the kids

user996 i was genuinely scared this was a hard launch

user123 alexa play that should be me

user8 how ironic

user147 ﹫youruser

user313 that's my girlfriend ﹫youruser

user05 praying for this girl cause the toxic charles fans, yikes😬

user000 gonna be delusional and pretend it's me 😁

user128 see i was so excited when i saw the notif and now i'm just 😐

user01 i cried when i saw this post btw

user306 imagine he posted a pic of asking who u are ﹫user43

user43 pls i would cry

user61 ﹫youruser

user007 idk and idc

user400 this is me if you even care

Liked by yourbestfriend, charles_leclerc, user4 and 253 953 others

youruser hello new people, where'd y'all come from?

View all 1 753 comments

yourbestfriend do you not check your notifications or...

youruser you know i don't

user245 girl...

user4 im in love with you lol

user500 just came from ur yt video, i'm so glad you had fun at the event!

user16 so this is the girl my husband is leaving me for🥲

user04 charles leclerc in her likes😭😭😭 ooh i'm sick

user287 then you're not gonna like this... he's flirting w her

user04 just fell to my knees in despair

user61 so real for that last slide

user56 pretty😍

youruser tysm pretty girl🤎

user791 charles mfing leclerc posted you!?!!!

user792 charles mfing leclerc liked!!

user793 charles mfing leclerc commented!!!

friend3 let's kiss 💋

youruser 👩🏾‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏾

user005 i too wish to kiss all the pretty girls

user800 idk what's going on rn but i loved your latest video, you and yourbestfriend were so cute and seeing you guys backstage together was sooo wholesome

user494 the part where they saw each other and started hyping each other up was my favourite

use712 her looking up a makeup tutorial 2 hours before she had to leave was so me

user55 he's in her likes y'all!

user942 thanks bud, i would never had noticed without u

user039 oh so she's dumb and ugly 😒

user44 and you're bitter and jealous...

user91 CHARLES LECLERC KNOWS YOU EXIST

use222 I wanna kiss you too 😞

user777 personally, i came from yt

user420 hi *louder than everybody else*

user311 what lip liner are you wearing babes?

youruser ﹫makeupbymario brown lip liner : )

user42 need a makeup tutorial!!!

charles_lerclerc my fault 🧍‍♂️

youruser i'll let it slide cause you're cute

charles_leclerc you think i'm cute? giggling, kicking my feet

youruser and blushing?

charles_leclerc mhmm, yeah

user0 THEY'RE FLIRTING!!!!

user456 deffo flerting

user942 YEAH?!???!!!!

user011 you guys know dms exist right???

user0 damn, i wanted to see this play out more 😭

user811 chill, my man is on this app

user35 she a baddie she know she a ten

user555 face card is never declining 😍

user411 do i want to date you or be you?

user87 so real!

user05 so we all saw them flirt right?

user942 yes😭

user28 STAY AWAY FROM HIM

user69 GET A JOB (directed to you user28)

Liked by charles_leclerc, yourbestfriend, user12 and 443 854 others

youruser day(s) n night(s)

View all 2 748 comments

user103 nottt her trying to be sneaky👀

yourbestfriend am i seriously losing you to a MAN???

youruser 'm always urs pooks💚

yourbestfriend tell loverboy that

user656 charles' new nickname is 🔥

user48 the way charles was here in the first few minutes of her posting💀

charles_leclerc et le prix de la plus belle fille te revient [and the award for the most beautiful girl goes to you]

youruser merci beau garçon

user12 Them speaking French to each other is all that I'm thinking about rn.

user707 A YT MAN?!?!?! IT SHOULD'VE BEEN ME!!!

user349 wish she was calling me a beautiful boy 😭

use117 i see you 4th slide, studious queen🤧

user824 charles try not to be a simp challenge

user107 level : IMPOSSIBLE

user41 ﹫user23 50 quid that's charles

user23 do you think i'm stupid?

user41 do you want an honest answer or?

user23 do you want to tell me your lastest test score or?

user41 ...

user23 yeah that's what i thought

user662 noooo pls don't be who i think it is

user35 she a baddie with her baddie friend(s)

user723 okay but the lashes ate💅🏾

user991 this is so weird, why are you posting him?

user75 you don't even know if that's him and you're already being defensive over a man who don't want you or even know you exist? don't pmo. get off her page!!!

user940 me when😔

user129 what about us?

user130 what about everything we've been through

user329 who is that man girl

user477 so are we just gonna ignore charles' comment or...

user452 just made me even more sure that it's him

user02 pretty girl<3

user170 if my future boyfriend don't bring me flowers on the first date, i don't want him🙅🏽‍♀️

user244 we get it, for some reason charles leclerc wants you😒

user311 ugh,,, the lip look always eats

user710 real, I'm obsessed

user536 is that charles?

user537 be serious, that is not happening

user539 ok 😐👍

user536 i actually can't be sirius, he's dead. hope this helps👍

user863 imagine that's not him and we're all just being crazy

user37 if that's not him, he's probably crying

user11 shittt, I would too, look at her

user29 he's probably the guy in the photos

user163 we all saw that interview right? it's definitely him

user288 yass, he looked so cute

user565 enough about charles, can we focus on how pretty she and her friends are??

user479 10s across the board fr

user504 I thought you were for the girls 😭

user716 i'm calling it now, that's a date w leclerc

user231 you look stunning 😍

user406 anyone noticed how he liked? he wouldn't do that if she went out on a date with someone else right?

user410 only everybody with eyes?

alex_albon yeah, no, he would be sobbing in a corner if that wasn't him

user410 ARIANA (Alex) WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

use535 so he couldn't have fumbled, right....

user534 well...

user210 alex is just here to create chaos and honestly, i respect that

user73 please don't post your man again😒

user66 real!!! i come here to see you not him🥲

user711 love to see women getting treated right 😌

user385 slide 6 made me sick to my stomach

user858 he brought her flowers😫

user132 PLEASE DON'T BE IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE ELSE

user705 that HAS to be him

user701 you never know, sometimes he is his own worst enemy

user898 did NOT 🚫❌ like this

user999 what if this was my last straw

tagged: charles_leclerc, youruser

Liked by user, pierregasly, user0 and others

allthingsleclerc local (monégasque) man seen out with mystery woman who sources claim is yn

View all 843 comments

user624 why is she still serving while blurred

user210 liked by pierregasly 🫣

user833 charles' friends are exposing him 💀

user0 that's definitely ﹫youruser

user04 serving cunt and he's there ig

user547 just becoz it's blurred doesn't mean you can't tell that it's her

user622 he looks miserable, he doesn't like her😭

user595 what? are you of sound mind?

lunavrse pls don't look too closely at the picture 😴

user923 What's the square root of 64?💅🏾

user700 they're just minding their business, why can't y'all do the same?

user674 it's a public place

user700 ☝️🤓 it's a pUbLIc PLaCe

user103 no bc they're lowk matching 😭

user933 it's so over😭😭

user72 that's so cute🥰 who wants to have a sleepover on the highway with me?

user33 that could just be a coincidence?

user172 i actually don't care but THAT DRESS, i need to know where she got it from

user32 oh ! i didn't realise that she was actually his type

user79 ... i wish there was a side eye emoji

user18 oh that's not-

user32 nonono in a sense that he usually dates like brunettes

use499 wdym, 'm pretty sure she is brunette?

user03 we know what you meant lol

user270 wish i could live in delusion

user320 he's probably paying for everything 🙄

user419 and? he's literally a millionaire, if he wants to spend his money on his (alleged) girlfriend let him. it's not your money

user232 girl, pipe down

user890 I don't see the problem?

user52 why do you assume that? do you know her financial situation? or you a close friend of either of theirs who knows what's going on? if the answer to these questions are no, shut the fuck up, thanks<3 peace and light to you.

user562 try not to say mother

user587 [failed]

user612 Why can't she stay away from him?

user258 why can't you mind yr business?

user718 first picture of them out together and they look great

user106 her rn: damn i'm the only bitch serving cunt here😭😭 omg😭 i'm so embarrassedd😭😭😭

user211 she should be at the club, not on gossip pages😭

user261 fuck she looks too good, i wanna kms

user211 real

user586 took a social media break and came back to this😃 great !

user404 i wanna say parents🤭

user648 this actually made my day

user446 Gonna sleep on the tracks tonight🥰

youruser and you're kenough for me❤️

charles_leclerc thank you barbie !

most beautiful barbie ever❤️

landonorris this ken's job is simp

charles_leclerc you'd be a simp too if you could actually date such a stunning woman but you can't 🫶

landonorris you're a cruel, cruel man

Liked by charles_leclerc, yourbestfriend, lilymhe and 749 365 others

youruser me gusta la mar🏖️

View all 2 836 comments

yourbestfriend wish i was on a boat right now😔

youruser i literally invited you and you said no?

yourbestfriend i have to face unimaginable horror (work)

user12 that boat looks familiar

yourbestfriend you look stunning babes💚

youruser tysm, means the most coming from uuu pookie 💚

use501 forget about charles and give me one(1) chance pls

charles_leclerc me gustas tú

user779 SCREAMING

user784 chill, it's a song lyric

user779 yeah but have you heard the song???

charles_leclerc gorgeous view, and the sea looks good too i suppose

youruser my view was much better but thank you<3

charles_leclerc i doubt that. je pourrais te regarder pendant des heures sans jamais me lasser. [i could look at you for hours and never get bored]

user055 someone is coming for your smooth operator title ﹫carlossainz55

user964 Charles Rizzclerc???

yourbestfriend she's screaming btw

youruser no i'm not

yourbestfriend then why do i have a vn of you screaming?

charles_leclerc 😊

user96 it's quiet🤐... no back talk

user71 stay focused my brothers, we must stay focused

user53 i am looking respectfully, i promise

user131 when will someone tell me the things he says to her🙃

user677 everytime you post a picture my jaw drops

yourfriend oh my gorgeous coco butter melanated caramel skinned goddess, please notice me🙏🏾

youruser oh you've got jokes🤨

yourbestfriend GOODBYE😭 im showing this to ur man

yourfriend you really thought you did suttin🤣 he knows who he's dating😋

user22 I would sacrifice my favourite duck plushie for just one chance to be in your presence 🙇‍♀️

youruser that's so sweet yet so disturbing pls keep your plush safe

user22 Yes queen, whatever you say 🫡

user803 if you look close enough, you can see me drowning myself in the ocean 🤗

user70 forget vroom vroom boy n give a g(ay)irl a chance😫

user312 charles in his simp era

use314 love to sea it

user312 that's a terrible pun and i hate that i laughed

user2 you know who has a boat??? charles

user057 the way that you're actually glowing in these🫠

user717 i love the hat, it just kinda brings the whole thing together

lilymhe you look amazing! and i love the bikini!

youruser tysm🫶🏾 i love u!!!

user742 a friendship i never knew i needed

user335 Since when did Lily and Yn know each other??

user386 since they're both wags, it only makes sense

user360 but yn's not a wag

user386 yet

user109 hi lol

user634 her body is teaaa

user7 did someone say body-ody-ody-ody

user19 he can do so much better than you

user482 I know you want him but I can be so much better than him in so many ways, I swear, please please please please *begs excessively*

user888 Does Charles have her post notifications on or what?

user938 i'd say yes cause how else would he like her posts so fast

user064 the swimsuit is everythinggg

user229 it's giving hot girl summer ⛱️

user177 i could start a whole new ocean with the amount of tears i've cried

Liked by user621, youruser, pierregasly and 927 375 others

charles_leclerc me gusta el viento

View all 3 276 comments

user905 he knows exactly what he's doing

user200 Not him having the exact same meal picture as her

user080 let's talk about the matching captions

user621 most beautiful man I've ever seen

youruser me gustas tú

user331 Y'ALL ARE NOT SLICK

user331 in fact, you're both so sick for playing with us like this

user774 we know you like the wind, we've seen your hair

user405 jajajaja

user607 okay, you might have nibbled with this a little

user775 jail!!! do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars

user379 what she said wasn't even that bad nor untrue

youruser now THIS is a view. tu as ta place au louvre avec toutes les autres grandes œuvres d'art. (you belong in the louvre with all the other great works of art)

charles_leclerc oh ! thank you, i am so normal about you and this comment

pierregasly great, now he's glitching and going crazy in the group chat again

user2 AGAIN?!?

alex_albon spoiler alert ⚠️ he was not normal about this

user125 who blames him? not me. instead, i am insanely jealous

user457 WHY ARE THEY BOTH BREAKING OUT INSANE LEVELS OF RIZZ?

user508 oh he's so fine🤤

user933 the matching captions and matching replies,,, god I'm NOT your strongest soldier

user36 yesss king, give us beach!!!!

user078 well, boat but yes!!!

user649 he said im speeding up the soft launch

user573 by 0.25x speed

user649 at least it's something?

user378 honestly i will take these crumbs instead of absolutely nothing

user269 i LOVE crumbs 🤤 mmhmm😋

user120 is really considered a soft launch when they make comments like THAT?

user801 someone sedate me, im unwell🤒

user903 he's trying to thirst trap us into ignoring the 4th slide

user754 well it's working😫

user028 charles!!! te amo 😘

user753 gnawing at the iron bars of my enclosure like a rat/mouse with a giant block of cheese

user136 One like and I'll drown myself.

user112 why did you like it🤨

user136 Damn Nessa, mind ur business😐, why did YOU🫵🏽 like it?

user388 them posting sea/boat pics on the same day? THEY'RE TOGETHER

user33 hear me out, it could be a coincidence

user388 *shakes you violently* HOW MANY COINCIDENCES DO YOU NEED

user770 i think we're focusing a little too much on the wrong thing here

user911 if i said what i was thinking, i'd be banned from this app.

user762 can't wait to see you at the next race! praying for a podium finish🙏!

user63 Who are you taking pictures of Charles???

user894 Gee that's a tough one/s

user720 he didn't really think we'd ignore the 4th slide

user402 i am here to do some good ole fashion SLUT shaming🗣️📢

user309 Love them trying to out-compliment each other

user61 he has such a gorgeous smile

user7 actual post of you and ﹫youruser when?

user633 nobody wants to see that

use105 speak for yourself

user708 😍😍

user808 i don't know who's luckier, her or him

user809 both, both is good

user007 hope you're having fun destroying my heart😭😭

user169 charles please, please, do you need a dog because i swear i can bark. in fact i am barking and drooling violently rn

user196 you really get me

user45 he's taking pictures of me y'all 🫶🏼

user502 🥵🔥

user19 you can do so much better than her, i promise

user67 i cried a little when i saw your post of her was still up

user64 I feel like a Victorian man™ seeing a woman's ankle for the first time 😵‍💫

user664 feeling like how teachers think boys feel when seeing a girl's shoulders

user325 don't forget to keep applying sunscreen!

user04 he's so pretty, i'm sick to my stomach.

user758 he tryna kill people i swear

user99 honestly, i think he looks so at peace/happy and i'm grateful for that

user74 you're honestly ruining my life by not being mine 😭😭😭

user981 that looks like too much food for 1 person

user523 that's because im with him🤗

user296 screaming, crying, throwing up, banging my head against the wall, wailing like a banshee.

tagged: youruser

Liked by youruser, user291, landonorris and 973 638 others

charles_leclerc play all mine by brent faiyaz

View all 4 726 comments

user39 just fell to my knees in a Walmart

youruser this is not the soft launch we agreed on mon bijou

charles_leclerc just wanted to show you off mon ange

youruser oh !

user505 ALL MINE BY BRENT FAIYAZ!??!! oh it's really over 😭

landonorris can't even get picture creds for the 4th slide

user444 you didn't even get a reply 💀 everybody point 🫵🏼 and laugh

landonorris just looked at your bio and it says ln4, i really is your own fans😞

user528 can't believe she invented green 😮‍💨

user553 them in the photobooth, fuck, is it hot🥵🥵 in here orrr

youruser who is she???

charles_leclerc oh you know, just the love of my life

youruser kicking my feet, smiling SO hard right now. je t'aime, je t'aime, je t'aime.

charles_leclerc je t'aime encore plus mon ange❤️ (i love you even more my angel)

user378 The launch we've been waiting for

user957 the way they're looking at each other, parting my hair with a knife 🤪

youruser you're obsessed with me

charles_leclerc well, yes! am i not supposed to be??

user39 no shame in admitting it, i respect that🤷🏽‍♂️

user291 serving cunt like she got a master's degree in cuntology from servington universitea

user239 charles, can you fight because i feel like i'm gonna steal your girl

charles_leclerc ... you have five seconds to delete this🙂

user805 If I speak...

user806 charles would probably block you

user575 charlessss i can make you happier, trust me

youruser no, i don't think i will

user575 my bad girl, didn't think you'd see this.

maxverstappen1 you guys are so sickening, please get a room

charles_leclerc who even invited you???

youruser wow max, i thought you liked us

maxverstappen1 YOU DID

maxverstappen1 not enough to watch you both be so touchy sorry

yourbestfriend my stunning girl💚

charles_leclerc i think you mean, MY girl

yourbestfriend i'm not arguing with you, ﹫youruser please come get your man

youruser i think 'm gonna stay out of this...

user332 when will someone post me to my fav brent faiyaz song🫤

user333 manifesting getting posted to stay down 🕯️🙏🏾🕯️🙏🏾🕯️🙏🏾

user334 my wedding song frfr😩

user018 why did daddy's home start playing 🛐

user12 FINALLY

user618 is your girlfriend single?

charles_leclerc read that first part again for me

user466 KHCJTSURS 5HE HARED LAWNCH

user540 not one word spelt correctly, open the schools!!!

user843 who is cutting onions😭😭???

user785 HOW DOES IT FEEL TO LIVE MY DREAM

charles_leclerc feeling really blessed 🙏🏻

user912 this is so unserious 💀

user440 love love love 😘

user54 love a black woman from infinity to infinity!!!

user113 in the words of dove cameron, i could be a better boyfriend than him. trust🙏🏾

user53 NOOOO YN come back to meeee!!!

charles_leclerc i think she's good here, next to me

user17 can't breathe!!!

user17 hottest gf alive

user17 she looks too good i can't breathe 🫠

user27 showed this to my therapist and she's finally gonna let me kill myself

user065 to be shown off like this,,, i beg

pierregasly the fact that we were together in the last slide...

charles_leclerc but is this a friend group hard launch?

user513 call this hard launch an ugly twink the way it cannot be topped

use488 CALL IT WHAT NOW🎤🎤

user83 the wording is CRAZY

user48 not Charles beefing with everyone in love w his girl💀💀

user259 just bought a whole house with the 1st pic. her face card is insane

user613 kissin the screen😙

charles_leclerc kissing her👩🏾‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻

youruser ok that's enough

user613 oooohhhh you got scolded 🫵

user6 LETS GO TO PARIS😋

user084 the audacity to use that emoji, ijbol

user40 i hate you

user40 i'm sorry that was jealousy speaking, so happy for you❤️

user069 i - no words

user675 charles, I heard she throws rocks at orphans

charles_leclerc i'm not an orphan but she can hit me😊

arthur_leclerc NO SHAME😭

youruser i do not throw rocks at children, ﹫charles_leclerc hi

user675 yeah, i lied but he's something...

Liked by charles_leclerc, user61, yourbestfriend and 985 732 others

youruser think i like you best when you're just with me and no one else...

View all 4 662 comments

user73 didn't i say don't post your man 🥲

charles_leclerc who is that guy?

youruser he's just this guy i'm hopelessly in love with

charles_leclerc he's very lucky❤️

youruser we both are❤️

user23 we all know who it is girl🤣🤣🤣

charles_leclerc i can't believe you didn't post a single picture of me where my face is visible 😪

youruser i hate you, you know we agreed on the soft launch

charles_leclerc you hate me? so enemies to lovers😏

youruser 🤦🏾‍♀️

user704 she's so mean to him, what does he even see in her

user202 you know there's this thing called banter and he's a grown man who can make his own decisions?

user525 can't wait for the future videos of her at any of the grand prix races

user4 he's got a grip on you in every picture i've seen of y'all together so far, like chill lil bro, she's not gon run away🤣🤣🤣

user206 he's actually just like me bc if she was my girl...

yourbestfriend the best launch because we don't have to see his face

user180 ur so real ily

yourbestfriend jokes, but I'm happy for you both💚

youruser love you💚

user16 i'm so😭 happy😭 for you😭 both😭

user444 lover gyal era!

user407 must be nice to young, sexy and in love

youruser it really is🥰

user350 do y'all need a third, a dog, a maid, or anything really because i can do it all!

user110 shattered.

user12 feeling giddy asf like i'm the one who got posted😵‍💫

user61 you two look great together😊

youruser thank you aoife🤎

user61 you KNOW MY NE?$?$?_? SHE KNOWS MY NAME JEJEJEJ IM SCREAKING

user08 lord, i see what you've done for others 🙏🏼

user940 when will it be me.(with you)

charles_leclerc never, not even in the next thousand lifetimes 🤣

user838 CHARLES???

user839 OHMYDAYS?!?!

user516 the rope in my backyard looks so tempting

user133 I love k. so much

user48 feet? for free? in this economy?

lilymhe leave him for me, let's run away together💒

youruser packing my bags 🛍️

charles_leclerc ﹫alex_albon please come get your girlfriend

alex_albon lily... what is this

lilymhe as the saying goes, never let your boyfriend stop you from finding your wife

charles_leclerc NOT MY GIRLFRIEND THO

youruser boooo tomato tomato tomato i'm throwing tomatoes🍅🍅🍅

charles_leclerc mon ange???

user909 lily was cooking ♨️🍳

user102 remember everyone, he is NOT a mountain, he CAN be moved!

user00 Donatella VERSACE💜

user6 i love the eiffel tower

user315 because you're parisian, right????

user57 i don't think that's the reason💀💀

user510 do you want another boyfriend?

user204 i just think it really weird that you're not posting his face when he literally posted multiple pictures of you on his account, like what are you hiding?

user832 i think it's weird that you don't know how to mind your own business? like it's crazy that you think you're entitled to a reason. this is her account to do what she wants with it, even if she posted him, you'd complain. so please, just shut up.

user278 not my boyfriend having the audacity to steal my girlfriend from me🫤

user98 honestly if I looked like her, i would not know how to act

user122 facts

landonorris what is with you and your boyfriend not giving credit for pictures i take???

youruser this isn't about you right now🫶🏾

user444 at least you got a response this time

landonorris again, for someone who has ln4 in their bio, you sure like to bully me

user444 you think this is bullying? i can actually bully you if you want

landonorris no, i'm good👋🏻

user303 that one girl was right about you liking the wind a lil too much

user926 yeah this is cute and all but can i land this backflip off a cliff?

user376 those flowers are so pretty 🤍🎀

user401 driving home in the wrong lane tonight🤣

user527 the way i was right the whole time and now my friend owes me money 🥰

user830 you guys are such a cute couple

user010 this would have been such a good soft launch dump of we didn't see his hard launch 😅

youruser added to their story.

user09 posting a man to MITSKI?! oh it's serious, ur actually down horrendous

yourbestfriend hard launching on ur story when you soft launched in a post is crazyyyy🤣🤣

youruser hard launching when i see a ring 🤗

nah, im kidding but if they want to see him, go to his profile🤷🏾‍♀️

yourbestfriend IKTR 💅🏾

user215 now my man's gonna expect me to post him on my story like this😑 but i forgive you queen 🙄

landonorris finally made it in a post!

youruser finally you can stop complaining 🫶🏾

landonorris why are you and charles so mean to me

youruser because you deserve it, hope this helps🙌🏾

francisca.cgomez double dating with you was so fun! can't wait to do it again 💞

youruser yes! gonna go bother charles to make plans for another one soon 😁

user121 the sun drawing around ur eyes🥲 crying, that's so effin cute

yourfriend not you being all sentimental with the daniel caesar song AND the puzzle pieces

youruser damn, can't even do something nice🧍🏾‍♀️ see if i post you again

yourfriend you're so dramatic pookie

user531 the bear and the flowerss, please where can i get man like that😖

user479 so many gorgeous girls��

user06 glad you're surrounding yourself with people who make you happy and bring out this lovely light 🤎

yourfriend2 when the plans finally make it out the group chat🙌🏾🎉

youruser love that for us🤧 but i swear getting stuck in that elevator made me reconsider all my decisions leading up to that moment

yourfriend2 the 1st hour wasn't that bad tho

yourfriend3 we will never be free🙁

youruser please shut up😭😭

yourfriend3 no bc you didn't listen when dr umar said "SNOW BUNNIES NEVA🙅🏾‍♀️❌"

youruser i do not see it🧘🏾‍♀️

𖦹 𓂃 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁⠀⠀𓂃 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁⠀⠀𓂃 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁⠀⠀𓂃 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 𓂃 𖦹

⤷ end note ‧ ★ : halfway through making this i went "hmm, this should be a lando smau" but then i continued doing this. it posted like 5 times which freaked me out and was supposed to be done ages ago but yeah. also french is from deepl. enjoy.

#lunavrse writes(?)⋆#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc instagram au #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc social media au #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 instagram au #f1 smau #f1 social media au #instagram au #smau #social media au

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