#his hands still hurt this bad in brazil

[yesloulou]

Drive to Survive Season 6, Episode 9

[amirasainz]

Can you do driver reader, that is one of the driver that crashes during the Brazil race and causes a red flag. Can she be hurt (broken arm or smth)

I love your blog so much🤌🔥

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 💕

Rain

The sound of rain drummed steadily against the asphalt, creating a chaotic symphony that echoed throughout the Interlagos circuit. It was the Brazilian Grand Prix, and the atmosphere was electric, charged with anticipation and anxiety. Yn, the first female driver for RedBull, sat in her car on the grid, heart racing, fingers tapping nervously against the steering wheel. She glanced at the wet track ahead and could feel the tension in the air, punctuated by the distant rumble of thunder.

“Okay, Yn, focus,” her race engineer JD's voice crackled through the radio, breaking her concentration. “It’s going to be tricky out there. We’ve already seen a couple of red flags, and the conditions are only getting worse. Just take it slow, especially in the first few laps.”

“Got it, JD. I’m just going to keep my head down and stay out of trouble,” she replied, trying to mask the nerves creeping into her voice.

“Remember, we’re in it for the long game. You’re in second, just behind Max. Let’s see how it plays out, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ll be careful. Thanks!” She took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart. The lights went out, and she surged forward, gripping the wheel tightly as she navigated the treacherous turns.

The rain poured relentlessly, causing visibility to plummet. The roar of engines mixed with the sound of rain, creating an overwhelming cacophony. As they completed the first lap, Yn found herself trailing closely behind Max. The two Red Bull cars danced across the slick track, carving their paths through the rain.

“Good job, Yn. Keep up with Max,” JD encouraged as she skillfully maneuvered her way through the corners.

But the rain was unforgiving. A few laps later, a sudden jolt of loss of traction sent her heart into her throat.

“JD! I’m slipping!” she shouted, trying to regain control of the car.

“Stay calm, Yn! Just counter-steer!” JD’s voice was urgent, but Yn could feel the tires struggling for grip on the waterlogged track. Suddenly, the car spun wildly, and before she knew it, her heart sank as the barriers rushed toward her.

BANG!

The impact reverberated throughout her body, and her vision blurred. The world outside turned chaotic; sirens blared, and officials waved red flags frantically.

************************************************

In the hospital, Yn was conscious but barely coherent. Her body ached, and she felt detached from reality as the medical staff worked quickly around her. She heard snippets of conversation, the beeping of machines, and the distant sounds of the race still going on outside.

Meanwhile, the other drivers were huddled in the waiting room, anxiety etched on their faces. Lando paced back and forth, glancing toward the door every few seconds.

“Why isn’t there any news yet?” he asked, running a hand through his damp hair.

“They’re probably just being thorough,” George said, trying to keep his tone light, though his worry was evident. “She’s tough. She’ll pull through.”

“Yeah, but she’s only eighteen,” Carlos added, looking serious. “It shouldn’t have happened. She was doing so well.”

“Max is taking it hard,” Charles mentioned, nodding toward the corner where Max sat silently, his gaze fixed on the floor.

Just then, the door swung open, and a doctor stepped out. “You’re here for Yn Ln, right? She’s stable, but she’s in pretty bad shape. Five broken ribs and a concussion. She’s asleep right now but is being monitored closely. We’ll let you in shortly.”

The relief was palpable, but worry still clouded the room. They exchanged glances, each trying to mask their fear for their young friend and competitor.

***************************************************

After what felt like an eternity, they were finally allowed to see her. The sterile smell of antiseptic filled the air as they entered the dimly lit room. Yn lay in the hospital bed, her face pale but peaceful, a tangle of wires and machines surrounding her. Flowers adorned the table next to her, a bouquet of vibrant blooms brightening the otherwise stark room.

“Look at her,” Lando whispered, stepping forward. “She looks so small.”

“She’s a fighter,” Max said quietly, his eyes glistening. He stepped closer to the bed, placing a hand on the railing. “I should have told her to back off. I should have been more careful.”

“You can’t blame yourself, Max,” Carlos said gently, joining him. “The conditions were terrible.”

George stepped up, looking around. “We should leave her something. Something to remind her we’re all here for her.”

They began placing little tokens around her bedside: a signed card from Lando, a miniature trophy from George, a chilli plushie from Carlos.

“Hey, Yn,” Charles said softly, leaning down so his face was closer to hers. “We’re all here. Just take your time to heal, okay?” Charles moved a bit to the left, placing the flowers with the rest of the things.

Then, Ollie, Yn’s bets friend and partner in crime, stepped forward, his expression softening. He took her hand gently, brushing back a stray hair from her forehead. “You’re going to be alright. Just rest, and we’ll be right here when you wake up.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, lingering for a moment as emotion washed over him.

A moment of silence fell over them as they stood vigil by her bedside. The beeping of the machines was a constant reminder of her fragility, but they knew she was strong.

“Can you believe she’s just eighteen and already racing with us?” Lando finally broke the silence, trying to lighten the mood. “I can’t even imagine what I was doing at that age.”

“Probably playing video games,” Ollie teased lightly, earning a chuckle from the others despite the somber atmosphere.

“She’s got so much talent,” Carlos said, glancing back at Yn. “And she’s got all of us rooting for her. That’s what matters.”

Max nodded, his gaze still locked on Yn. “She’s going to bounce back. I believe that.”

The hours passed slowly, filled with whispered conversations and laughter tinged with worry as they reminisced about the race and their shared moments on the track. They each took turns sharing stories, hoping to fill the room with positivity, so Yn could feel the love surrounding her.

Finally, as the night wore on, exhaustion crept in. One by one, they began to drift off, still seated in their chairs, leaving her surrounded by the warmth of friendship, waiting for her to wake up.

****************************************************

As the first light of dawn broke through the clouds, illuminating the hospital room with a gentle glow, Yn stirred slightly in her sleep. The sound of soft murmurs and familiar laughter filtered through her consciousness.

“Look! I think she’s waking up!” George exclaimed softly, shaking Lando awake.

Max leaned forward, his eyes brightening. “Yn, can you hear us?”

With a small groan, Yn blinked open her eyes, squinting at the faces around her. “Ollie?” she croaked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes! I'm here,buba! We’re here! You’re safe,” Ollie said, his eyes widening with relief, taking her hand in his, softly stroking her hair from her face.

“Hey, don’t try to move too much, petite,” Charles advised, noticing her attempt to sit up. “You’ve had a rough night.”

“What happened?” she asked, her voice shaky.

“You crashed,” Lando said, trying to keep his tone light. “But you’re tough. You’ve got some broken ribs and a concussion, but you’ll be back on track before you know it.”

Yn closed her eyes for a moment, trying to process everything. “I remember slipping… and then nothing.”

“It’s okay. You’re here now,” Carlos reassured her. “We’ve all been waiting for you to wake up. You scared us, hermana.”

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as the reality of her situation washed over her. “I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to keep up.”

Max stepped forward, his expression softening. “You did great, Yn. You’re going to come back from this even stronger.”

“Yeah, and we’ll all be right behind you,” George added, his voice filled with sincerity.

The warmth of their presence surrounded her, giving her the strength she needed. “Thank you, guys. I—I really appreciate it.”

“Rest now,” Ollie said, squeezing her hand gently. “We’ll be here when you wake up again.”

And as Yn drifted back into a peaceful sleep, she felt the undeniable bond of her paddock family.

[sofiawritesstuff]

Platonic

part 7

summary: When Lando's "playboy" image is setting a bad reputation for him. He turns to the person the trust most in this world for help.

pairing: landonorris x bestfriend!reader

warnings: none

part 6

Following Lando's race win, you offered for him to go out to the clubs or have everyone round for drinks but he decided that all he wanted was to go to dinner with you.

Lando was out driving Max and Pietra to the airport, they had decided last minute to visit her family in Brazil.

You hummed to yourself as you wrapped a towel around you, stepping out of the shower. You went into your now shared closet with Lando looking for something to wear tonight.

"I'm home!" Lando yells closing the door behind him "I'm in your room" you yell back. His footstep came closer and he knocked on the door before entering

"What are you looking for?" he asks sitting on the bed "A dress to wear tonight, I keep forgetting that I need to move all these clothes back into my room" you sigh

"Or you could just keep them there?" he says awkwardly "What?" you ask turning to face him "Well I've just had so much fun with you staying here, would it hurt to just keep your stuff in here? We're staying in the same room for weeks when we're travelling too" he mumbles

“Lan” you stop him, sitting next to him “I would love to keep my stuff in here. I seem to get a better sleep when i’m next to you” you hold his face.

He kisses you deeply, not putting away “My towel is falling” you mumble against him “Is that such a bad thing” he jokes “Get in the shower creep” you push him pulling away

"I won't be long"

"Take your time, we're in no rush" you shout to him, as he walks into the bathroom

You put on one of Lando's shirts and a pair of shorts, moving over to Lando's vanity, brushing out your hair and doing some skin case. By the time your done Lando is finished in the shower.

"I didn't realise we shared clothes now" he smiles, at you "Yeah, we do" you nod turning to face him. He reachers into your side of the closet pulling out one of your cropped shirts

"You're going to stretch that out!” you laugh and he pulls it over his head “Is that a fat joke” he scoffs holding his hand to his chest “Shut up, lemme see you”

He spins around, with his hands on his hips, the shirt barely covering his torso “I’m thinking of wearing it out tonight”

You pick up your phone, taking pictures of him. He quickly rips the shirt off running towards you “No, delete that. Baby you better delete that” he laughs chasing you around the room “My photos now” you tease

He runs towards you, picking you up throwing you on the bed with him on top of you “Didn’t realise you were so kinky Norris” you joke as he pins your hands above your head “You learn something new everyday” he smirks getting off you

“Your pillow is going to be soaked with my wet hair now and thank god you have that towel on”

“My ass is very nice actually” he says shaking it with the towel still on “Now come on, i’ll dry your hair”

You sat relaxed as Lando brushed your hair while drying it, all you wanted was to lean into him while he played with your hair.

Lando leaves you to finish getting ready once he finishes drying your hair put some curls in and put up a little bit of make up and got changed into your dress.

“Hey Princess, are you ready? Wow” Lando says coming into the room “Does this look okay?” you ask him staring in the mirror “I think you look absolutely phenomenal” he says coming behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist

“You clean up well” you turn around, touching his chest “Lemme get a picture of you” he says pulling out his phone “No Lan”

“Baby” he stops you, pulling you in front of him “Look at how amazing you look” he says pointing to the mirror, he kissed your neck and you hear the sound of the phone camera

“I got my picture” he show you, you stare at him, a smile coming to your face “Send me that?”

-

Lando had arranged for a taxi to pick you up, it was a short ten minutes ride and the whole time you sat in comfortable silence with the music playing in the background and his hand on your thigh.

Lando's phone lights up and you notice he changed his lock screen to the photo you had just taken with him. Zak's name doesn't stop popping up.

"If he keeps messaging you it must be something important"

"This is our night, I don't want him or the media or social media bothering us" he shakes his head "Baby, give him a call. Tell him we're going out for dinner and we will call him back later"

"Well he's call me now" he shows you his phone "Zak, now is not a good time, can I call you later?" he says answering the phone. You lean your head on his shoulder to hear what Zak was saying

"Lando, everything is going great but we need more images in public with you. Fans are going crazy, what are you guys up to now?"

"We're going out for dinner now but Zak-" before he can finish Zak interrupts him "Great, send me you location and we will send cameras out to you"

"Zak we want a nice date night without cameras, I'll speak to you tomorrow. Goodbye" he hangs up the phone angrily "You can talk with him tomorrow while I go out with the girls, we will book flights for tomorrow night too, spend a few days back home" you sqeeze his hand.

The driver slows down, pulling up next to the restaurant "Thank you" Lando thanks the driver giving him money. He walks around to your door, opening it for you and taking your hand.

"Gentleman" you smile "For you always"

You rush towards the restaurant and a waiter takes you to your table "This is so nice, I love this place" you smile looking around "I thought you might, we've not tried it yet so I thought tonight would be the perfect night"

The night was spent with jokes between you and Lando, plans for travelling and work. You finish the last drop of your wine and Lando his beer, just as you get your card out to pay, Lando stop you and taps his card.

"It's my turn to pay"

"It's never your turn"

part 8

TAGS

@harrysdimple05 @ironmaiden1313 @charli123456789 @alltoomaples @jule239 @panicsinvirgo @cmleitora @blueberry64857959 @imboredway2much @landoslutmeout @obxstiles @morenofilm @formula1mount @dreamercrowd @brekkers-whore @sialexia @bokutos-babyowl @wobblymug @merchelsea @lexiecamposv @lunamelona @nightlockcornucopia

[purinfelix]

didn't you believe in me? ⋆.˚ - franco colapinto

summary: following São Paulo, it's your job to remind Franco that one tough race isn't the end of the world w/c: 800

a/n: just wanted to write a little something following the brazil gp cus i just felt soooo bad for my boy

Ever since your boyfriend became a Formula One driver, there hadn't been many quiet moments in your life. From his excited ramblings as the two of you drove onto paddocks, to the endless chanting of his name from crowds of fans. It was exciting, mostly for him but for you as well, to watch the boy you loved become a man loved by many, many more.

But the drive home from São Paulo had been silent.

It's not like you didn't know why, you had been there the entire weekend - through the crash, his meetings with teams and everything else that had been going on. The crash had been scary for you, and your only care had been whether he was safe or not - but Franco didn't seem to share the same sentiment.

The rest of the afternoon had been tense, you were only able to watch from afar as he struggled through interviews that hounded him with uncomfortable questions. His professionalism through it all impressed you though, maybe his media training lessons were beginning to pay off. Still, you could tell he wasn't enjoying a single second of them from the way he stormed out of the media area and straight past you.

This car ride had been the only time the two of you were alone since the crash. Every so often you would glance over nervously, only to see your boyfriend looking out the window, silently.

"Franco," you say softly, less of a question and more of a call to his attention, but he doesn't give in. He only shakes his head slightly, a silent not right now which you recognise immediately.

You sit back with a soft sigh, though a soft tap on the leathered seat between you draws your attention towards where Franco's outstretched hand lays. Silently, you take it in yours, intertwining your fingers and rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb - it seems to be the most you can do at this moment to comfort him.

After what seems like an eternity, the car stops in front of the hotel where the two of you are staying. Still, in silence, the two of you file out, and head up the elevator to your room. The only noise that fills the space between you is the soft hum of the elevator and the noise your keycard makes when you unlock the door to your shared room.

You let him in first and shut the door softly behind you. The tension that had seemed to follow the two of you home from the paddock finally seemed to dissipate as you watched him kick off his shoes and sit down on the edge of the bed with a huff.

You make your way over to him quietly, wedging yourself to stand in between his legs. He hangs his head with a soft sigh, his hands fiddling at the fabric of your shirt as he pulls you a little closer.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you whisper, and he shakes his head.

"Not really," his voice is hoarse and it hurts your heart a little to hear. Still, you bring your hands up to start combing through his hair softly, a motion you know brings him comfort. There's another moment of silence and when you hear him sniff, you almost think he's crying. But he looks up at you, eyes a little watery. "I just really want to do well."

"You will," you say soothingly, "you are doing well." He nods, though you can tell he doesn't seem convinced.

You move your hands down to cup his face, forcing him to look into your eyes. "I mean it." You lean down a little, pressing soft kisses across his forehead. When you stand back up, you feel his arms wrap around your waist as he pulls you towards him, burying his face into your stomach.

"I'm sorry for being an ass to you earlier," he sighs, and you can tell just how much he means it.

"Don't worry about it, I understand."

"And you're still here with me."

"Franco, baby, you're going to have to do a lot worse than that to get rid of me."

He lets out a soft laugh, muffled against the fabric of your shirt but still you feel yourself internally let out a sigh of relief at the sound.

"Thank you," he says softly, "for staying."

"Of course," you reply, intertwining your fingers with his curls once more. The two of you return to silence once more - though now you're relieved by the fact that it's one not out of sadness or anger but comfort, and quite honestly, one you wouldn't mind spending forever in.

taglist: (reply/send me an ask if you'd like to be added!)

@spreadyourwings-my-smiling-angel @alelo23 @scill-a @multifan-idk @presleycaudle

[fangirl-dot-com]

🖤Prologue - My Reputation's Never Been Worse

Ok, so I was in the mood to create something dealing with the news about Logan's car being traded for Alex. So, I thought, why not give Reputations a prologue. Now, this does not happen in 2024. This is set around the 2023 Brazil Grand Prix. Everything in this story is fake. I'm sorry I had to make some of the drivers mean - in no way do I think that they act like this. Yes, they could be nicer to Logan but because I don't know them personally, I have no real thoughts about what they do in their own lives.

All I know is that Logan deserves all the love and my heart hurts for him.

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Saturday, November 4, 2023 

“You want to do what?” 

James sighed as he hunched over his desk. Logan was in disbelief over the question that he was just asked. Alex sat to his right, chewing on his finger nails. 

“It’s just for one race Logan. It’s no big deal.” 

Logan’s brows pinched in annoyance. “No big deal? Two races ago, we scored our first double points. I have raced clean, I’ve shown you what I can do.” 

“That right now doesn’t matter Logan,” James pushed. “What matters is the team. And we need to keep pushing to get points.” 

“Then let me race. Let me prove to you that I can do it.” 

Alex coughed, but no one paid attention to him. The Thai’s eyes were pointed at the floor. His silence was deafening. Logan leaned back in his seat. 

“Are you asking me or telling me?” 

There wasn’t an answer from James, which gave Logan everything he needed to know. How dare they come to a circuit without an extra chassis. How dare they ask Logan to give up his car that he worked so hard to get in the first place. It was ridiculous. And even if Alex managed to score points, it wouldn’t really matter. There were only a few races left. 

Logan finally turned to his teammate. “What do you think about this?” 

Alex only replied, “I would do what was best for the team.” 

A scoff escaped the blonde’s lips.  

“So if I had crashed out, and they asked you to give your car to me, what would you say?” 

“It wouldn’t matter because they’d never ask me to do that. I’d still drive.” 

Logan’s jaw wanted to fall. Did Alex really just say that? The man who had been so confident in Logan. The one who encouraged him after every fault. The person who was supposed to be his teammate. 

Logan could only collapse against the back of the chair. In frustration, he threw his hands up. 

“Fine. Whatever it take for the team right?” he bit. 

“Thank you Logan.” 

However, the American was out the door before he could even hear James. He needed some air. As he walked around the paddock, he saw lots of people but thankfully (or sadly) they didn’t pay attention to him. After walking for a bit, he knew where he was automatically going to. 

The back of the Mercedes garage. 

George, bless his heart, had comforted him once after a particular bad DNF and told him that if he ever needed a place to just sit, he was always welcome there. The tall Briton was always nice to the American. Way nicer than anyone had really treated him. 

He sat on the wet-ish grass and pulled out his phone. Time to look like he was actually doing something. Maybe the weather in Madrid was nice, or maybe it was raining back home? The weather app was always his go to. 

It only took a matter of moments for the post to go live. His eyes followed the mass amount of comments that poured in. And most of them were not lovely. He wanted to cry, but he knew better. 

Footsteps made him aware that someone was coming. He quickly stood up and rounded a corner, putting his back flat against the wall. 

It was Alex, George, Lando, and Oscar. 

“Great,” he whispered when he realized that there was no way to escape without them seeing. Oh well, eavesdropping was one of his specialties. 

“He was not happy,” he heard Alex say. “I don’t blame him.” 

Lando scoffed, or well, he thought it was Lando. 

“This wouldn’t have happened if he was a better driver.” 

Yep, that was Lando. 

“Come on, don’t say that.” 

Thank you Oscar, Logan wanted to say. Thank you for standing up for me. 

“Mate, you were just saying yesterday about how he really isn’t fit for F1. You said that he should have stuck with Indy Car or something.” 

Ouch.

Logan wanted to throw up. 

“Shit, I was really mean to him in there. I should have said something.” That was Alex again. 

Logan could practically hear Lando roll his eyes. For some reason, George has stayed eerily quiet. 

“Alex, it’s his own fault. I’m just saying everything that everyone is thinking. I’m the only one who is brave enough to say it. Logan Sergeant has no business being in Formula 1.” 

Oscar stuttered out, “That’s enough Lando.” 

“Right sorry, forgot you two were close.” 

Come on Oscar. 

“Not that close. He exaggerates a bit. To be honest, I just felt bad for him. He kind of stuck to me and I just let him.” 

Oh.

Alex sighed. “He wanted to prove something so much. But there’s really no need.” 

“No need?” Logan whispered to himself. 

“James isn’t extending his contract. Williams is going with whoever wins this year’s Formula 2 championship.” 

There was silence for a bit. Logan took the time to reign in his breaths that were quickly getting faster and faster. He did not need to have a panic attack here and now. 

“We have to go, Andrea is texting me.” 

“I’ll go with. My engineers have to look over Logan’s car to change some things.” 

He heard footsteps start to walk away. The lone Williams driver let out a deep sigh and sank to the ground. His head was automatically in his hands as he finally let his tears shed. What he didn’t see was a 6-foot Briton walking his way. 

The blonde gasped when he felt a food nudge his. His head shot up and was faced with George. 

“Oh hey. Didn’t see you coming.” 

“I know you were listening.” 

Red flushed Logan’s face as the idea of being caught. 

“It’s not eavesdropping if everyone talks so loudly.” 

George sighed. “I’m not mad Logan. I’m worried for you.” 

A scoff escaped from Logan. 

“You’d be the first.” 

George felt his heart drop at the sentence. 

“I try and try, and no matter what I do, it’s never good enough.” 

“Mate, you can’t get anywhere in a Williams. Did you even see my rookie year? It was bloody awful.” 

Logan looked back down. “But you’re now in Mercedes. You won the Formula 2 championship. I wasn’t even runner up or third place. Williams is all I have, er, well, had I guess.” 

“I’m truly sorry Logan.” 

“Sure.” 

George started to walk away, knowing that trying to convince the American that he was good enough was a lost cause. Logan waited until the Briton left before standing up to make his way back to the garage. 

He could feel the eyes on him now as he made the journey back to Williams. His eyes caught George standing with Lewis, Max, and Charles. They looked sad as they watched him walk. 

Whatever, Logan did want or need their pity. 

The American kept on walking, only stopping to ask for a car to take him back to his hotel. Man, did he wish Benny were here. It would make everything so much better. His phone had been blowing up with so many notifications. Multiple messages from his friends back home, along with his parents, had been nothing less than supportive. 

However, one message caught his eye as he was going through the long list. He was surprised, but there was a warm, fuzzy feeling at the sight of your name. He knew that you were also having a hard time adjusting to everything. Except for the fact that you had won a race for Arrow a few weeks prior. Hell, he was even at your celebration party. But he remembered the looks on your team’s faces as you celebrated. 

One good word would be jealousy. 

And it wasn’t just your team: it was everyone. 

He sent you a quick text saying that he’d call you when he got back to his room. A fast “I’ll be waiting” brought the warm feelings back.

 He quickly walked through the hotel doors and into the elevator. It was going to be so nice when he could change into his sweatpants and t-shirt.

Logan mulled over the entire thing as he showered. 

He could have stayed home in Florida. He wasn’t needed here anyway. He could be in his childhood room, in his own comfy bed instead of the stuffy hotel room that he knew was smaller than the one that Alex got. He had seen the Thai’s pictures from Instagram and their rooms did not look the same. 

He quickly glanced in the mirror, just to see if his hair looked fine. He was thinking of growing it out, but hesitated to. He didn’t want to be made fun of even more than he already was. With a jump into the bed, he was ready. 

He sent you a quick text, only to be met with the FaceTime screen ready. He rolled his eyes, you had always been so impatient to talk to people. When he pressed the green button, he was met with a big smile and an oh so familiar and safe face. 

“Hi Logan.” 

How he missed your voice. You were always so soft spoken, but could yell at people if you needed to. He had been on the wrong side of your yell one too many times. But, he could listen to you for hours if he could. 

“Hello? Earth to Logan?” 

He quickly shook his head. 

“Hi Y/n,” he murmured, laying his head on his bicep as he just looked into the camera. You had a sad smile as you looked at the blonde. 

You could see his eyebags and his pale completion through the small screen. His red eyes signified that he probably cried when he took his shower (you knew because his hair was still soaked). 

You cleared your voice. “How are you holding up?” 

Logan’s shoulders only raised before dropping back down. 

“I’ve been better.” 

“Of course you have.” 

“Overheard that I’m not going to be resigned for next year.” 

A gasp echoed through the room before you sighed. Your hand ran through your hair. When you and Logan were little, people always mistook you for twins or very close siblings. That always annoyed you because you claimed that Logan was your boyfriend, not your brother. The moms and dads would just laugh. 

Looking back, you always wished you cherished those moments more than you had. The “relationship” only lasted for three days or until you saw Logan give Jessica his extra fruit roll up instead of you. After that, you claimed that you could only be his best friend since he didn’t love you as much as you loved him. You were over it as soon as you gave Michael your extra fruit roll up. 

You looked down at your fingers in your lap and bit your lip. 

“What are you thinking about?” 

You sighed again. “If it helps, I’m not getting resigned either.” 

Logan’s eyes widened as he scoffed. 

“That’s ridiculous. You have given them 1 out of their 2 wins this season.” 

“And Logan, you scored points as the first American in like 30 years. Nothing in motorsports is ever fair.” 

Logan leaned back, but kept his face visible. 

“Remember when we were kids? And we always said that we would make it to our dreams together?” 

A quiet hum sounded from his phone. 

“Have we made it yet?” 

Silence was his answer. 

“I don’t think we have.” 

“What do you mean by that?” 

“Logan, is driving in a Williams really your dream?” 

The male thought for a moment. Did he accomplish his dream of getting and making it to Formula 1? To the outside world, yes, yes he did. He drove for an F1 team. He ‘made it’ even if it wasn’t the best. But is it really making it if you finished 21st in a 22 driver line up? 

No, that was not making it. That was barely getting by. 

“I guess my dream was just to show everyone that I could do it. That I’d be good at it. But, now I haven’t done that.” 

“Then why have you given up?” 

“Because everyone wants me to. No one has ever liked me for me.” 

“I do.” 

Logan inhaled sharply. He finally turned his head to see you looking right at him through the screen. He felt a tear run down his face. 

When had that gotten there? 

“Logan, listen to me.” 

A hum from him made you laugh. You guessed that’s what you were going to get out of him. 

“You have the talent, Williams saw that. They just couldn’t give you a car to maximize your potential. And who cares if no one likes you. You don’t have to make them like you, but at the same time you do. You can’t be green-eyed lady whisperer Charles Leclerc or World Champion Max Verstappen.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Wow, thanks Y/n.” 

Your giggles filled the air. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.” 

“Yeah, yeah, please continue about Charles’s green eyes.” 

“Dude I could write a whole biography on his eyes alone. But I don’t want to. I’d rather write a whole novel about yours.” 

What was that supposed to mean? 

“Anyway, what I’m trying to say Logan, is that you have to believe in yourself and show them that they need to like you because you are you. Say it with me please? Like you’re talking to a hater. ‘You must like me for me’.” 

Logan whispered back, trying to believe his words. 

“You must like me for me.” 

He shot up from the bed as soon as he said the words. 

“Isn’t that a Taylor Swift lyric?” 

His eyes narrowed at you through the phone. You only smirked back at him. 

“Quite possibly. Now, you are going to go to bed, sleep so well, and then keep smiling. Show them that they haven’t destroyed your spirit just yet.” 

Logan put his head on a pillow. 

“Oh, so they are going to destroy my spirit at some point.” 

“Yep!,” you popped the ‘p,’ “but not right now. That can come later.” 

He smiled dopily at you. 

“You’re the best you know? I know that I say that Oscar is my best friend, but it’s actually you.” 

A whine-like noise came from your throat. 

“You’re my best friend too. I’ll see you in a couple of months ok? Still have to beat Dalton at football this summer.” 

“You say that every year!” 

“Ok and?” 

“Goodnight Y/n.” 

“Night Logan. Sweet dreams.” 

You hung up the phone, leaving Logan alone in his little hotel apartment. He thought about what you had said. What’s the point in trying to make them believe in him anyway. They were going to throw him away like trash soon. 

But you were also right. He didn’t need to prove anything to anyone. He just needed to show them what he could do, and they could feel bad about it later. 

Logan set his alarms for the morning and got under the covers. 

He’d show them. 

His reputation has never been worse, so what’s a bit of fun until the end? 

logansargeant has posted

logansargeant if I didn't have a day job, I'd spend every moment listening to you, come visit me soon - your best friend

liked by georgerussell63, williamsracing, racer.y/n, and 493,206 others

logiebear oooooo girl in the pictures - have something to tell us mr. American 🤨

lolo2024 what they did to him this weekend was unfair

sargeant2 this was my first Grand Prix and I came from Spain just to watch him! I'm so sad that now I won't get to... :(

logansargeant hey! sorry about that - let me know what you're wearing and I'll try to find you, thank you for the support 💙

sargeant2 OH MY GOSH

racer.y/n I'll see you soon ok! sorry, my day job is also taking up all my time 🧡 *liked by logansargeant*

indyxf1 HELLO Y/N L/N??

log4_ever who is she?

indyxf1 so she like grew up grew up with Logan and she currently races for McLaren Arrow (their IndyCar entry) - she's won half of their races (1/2)

sarg4president they don't deserve you Logan!

loscar_812 I thought Oscar was your best friend hmmmm??

logan&y/n uhhhh haven't you seen that Oscar has been drifting since he's gotten closer with Lando??

loscar_812 oh. yeah. :(

billsracing and I thought williams was different - not them creeping in the likes 🙄

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @disneyprincemuke @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora

[lila-lou]

✨ His only exception - Pt. 13/? ✨

Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Language, soft Ben

Word Count: 5442

A/N: This is part 13 of “His only exeption”.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

"So, how are things going with you and Ben?", she asked, her tone casual but her eyes betraying a hint of curiosity. "You two seem to be getting along really well again, especially since you guys came back from vacation".

You flashed Annie a smile, trying to sound nonchalant as you replied, “Oh, you know how it is. We just talked, drank, and had fun while we were in Brazil”. Annie nodded, but her eyes betrayed a knowing glint as she continued, “And what about that little crush you had on him a few weeks ago? Seemed like there was something more going on”.

You felt a pang of panic, hoping Ben was too engrossed in the conversation with Butcher to overhear.

“Oh, that?”, you said, trying to brush it off. “Just a silly little crush, nothing serious”.

As Annie and Kimiko exchanged glances, Kimiko raised an eyebrow, her expression unreadable. Sensing your confusion, you sighed, asking her silently, "What?".

In response, Kimiko signed a few quick gestures, her hands moving with precision and clarity. Though you were still learning sign language, you understood her message clearly: he's not a good guy, and you shouldn't have a crush on him.

Her words struck a chord.

As Ben’s gaze lingered on you from afar, his ears caught every word of your conversation with Annie and Kimiko.

Meanwhile, Annie turned to you, her expression solemn. “Kimiko’s right, you know”, she said softly. “You shouldn’t let yourself get too caught up with someone like him”.

You raised an eyebrow, feeling a mix of confusion and curiosity. “Someone like him? Like what?”, you asked, crossing your arms as you waited for their explanation.

Again Annie exchanged a meaningful look with Kimiko before speaking again. “Someone who’s… complicated”, she replied carefully. “You know he’s not the easiest person to deal with”.

Kimiko nodded in agreement, her expression serious. “He’s dangerous”, she signed, her hands moving swiftly to convey her message. “You should be careful”.

You sighed, shaking your head slightly. “He never hurt me”, you insisted, feeling the need to defend Ben, despite all the warning signs.

Annie raised an eyebrow, her expression skeptical. “Well, not on purpose maybe”, she countered, her tone tinged with concern. Kimiko’s hands moved, “He’s just a massive red flag”.

“He’s got PTSD, he’s never sober, always on coke, and let’s not forget, he’s a fucking misogynist”.

"I know," you admitted quietly, your gaze drifting back to Ben.

Annie sighed, her expression softening with concern. "Just be careful, okay? You shouldn't catch any kind of feelings for him", she warned, her tone gentle but firm.

You scoffed, feeling a pang of frustration. "I know he's not perfect, but he's not a bad guy", you insisted, though doubt lingered in your mind.

Annie's expression grew serious. "Remember his short temper and his aggressive mood swings", she reminded you, her voice low. "his lack of empathy and emotions. He's not capable of loving someone".

As Annie’s words sank in, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease creeping over you. Despite your conflicted feelings for Ben, the reality of his volatile nature and emotional detachment weighed heavily on your mind. Before you could respond, Kimiko signed to you, “You could literally easily die. Since you’re just a human, Ben could crush you at any time with ease”.

You sighed, trying to dismiss the heaviness of the conversation. "Let's just drop it", you said, your voice wavering slightly. "I don't have any feelings for him, and I never will".

You hoped your words sounded convincing, but deep down, you knew they were a lie. However, unbeknownst to you, Ben overheard your declaration from afar, a dark look crossing his features as he listened.

Annie couldn’t shake her concern for you, her eyes still filled with worry as she turned back to you. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt”, Annie said softly, her voice tinged with genuine concern.

“I know”, you replied quietly, feeling the weight of her words.

Annie placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, her gaze filled with compassion. “Soldier boy could never give you what you need”, she said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

As Ben sat amidst the discussion with Butcher, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. Emotions swirled within him, a turbulent mix of frustration, insecurity, and a hint of longing. He couldn't bear the thought of you thinking poorly of him, but he was at a loss for what to do.

From the kitchen, you glanced over at Ben, your gaze lingering on him for a moment. But Ben, determined to maintain his facade, pretended to be engrossed in the conversation with Butcher, his expression carefully neutral.

Unknown to you, his heart ached with the desire to reach out to you, to reassure you that he wasn't as bad as you might think. But his pride and his own internal struggles kept him rooted in place.

Annie caught your gaze lingering on Ben, and she shot you a knowing look, her expression tinged with sarcasm.

"Sure thing", she muttered sarcastically, a hint of amusement in her voice. "Not catching feelings at all, huh?".

You felt a flush of embarrassment heat your cheeks, but you quickly averted your gaze, unable to meet Annie's knowing eyes. Deep down, you knew she was right, but admitting it was another matter entirely.

As everyone got ready to eat, you busied yourself with setting the table, focusing on the task at hand to distract yourself from your swirling thoughts.

Just as you reached for the salad on the kitchen counter, you felt a presence behind you. Before you could react, Ben's voice whispered in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

"I want you in my room later, when everyone's asleep", he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.

You tensed at his words, a rush of anticipation mingled with apprehension flooding through you. Glancing over your shoulder, you met his gaze briefly before nodding in silent agreement.

Annie glanced over at you and Ben but didn’t notice the subtle gesture of intimacy exchanged between you. Ben’s gentle touch as he brushed over your lower back went unnoticed by anyone else as he smoothly made his way to the table to join the rest of the team.

As you sat down beside Ben, your thoughts raced with a whirlwind of questions and uncertainties. The subtle touch from earlier lingered in your mind, adding to the anticipation of what might unfold later that night.

Across the table, you noticed Butcher's sharp gaze fixed on you, a flicker of curiosity evident in his expression. You quickly averted your eyes, feeling a surge of discomfort under his scrutiny.

You helped yourself to some food, your mind buzzed with thoughts of Annie and Kimiko's warnings. Their words echoed in your mind.

As everyone fell into small talk, the atmosphere around the table became relaxed, but Ben remained his usual quiet self, showing little interest in engaging with anyone else except you. Similarly, you found yourself lost in your thoughts, exchanging occasional glances with Annie whenever Ben's eyes were fixed on you.

Despite the casual chatter around you, a tension lingered in the air, palpable in the way Ben's gaze seemed to follow you, his attention solely focused on you amidst the distractions of the dinner table.

As you felt Ben's knee nudge yours under the table, you looked up at him, but he didn't raise his gaze from his plate. Instead, his hand found its way onto your thigh under the table, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you.

You shot him a questioning glance, but he remained focused on his food.

Despite your expectations, Ben's touch remained surprisingly innocent. His hand simply lay on your thigh.

As you tried to make sense of his actions, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief mingled with confusion. It was a small gesture, yet it spoke volumes about the complexity of your relationship with Ben.

About an hour later you found yourself in the midst of self-defense and fighting practice with MM and Butcher, the adrenaline pumping through your veins masked the lingering tension from dinner. Despite the physical exertion, your mind couldn't help but drift back to the earlier conversation and the anticipation of what awaited you later with Ben.

MM's voice cut through your thoughts, breaking your concentration. "Focus, kid", he said firmly, his tone demanding. "You need to keep your guard up".

You nodded, refocusing your attention on the task at hand. "Right, sorry", you replied, determined to prove yourself amidst the flurry of punches and kicks.

Butcher chimed in, his voice gruff but encouraging. "Good effort, lass. Keep at it, and you'll be holding your own in no time".

But as your thoughts swirled with images of Ben, you lost focus again, failing to anticipate Butcher's next move. Before you knew it, his fist connected with your shoulder, sending you tumbling to the ground with a grunt of pain.

"Oi! Pay attention, will ya?", Butcher barked, his tone gruff but not unkind as he offered you a hand up.

As you struggled to regain your footing, Butcher’s voice cut through the haze of embarrassment. “Seems like your mind’s elsewhere, lass. Can’t afford that when you’re in a fight”.

You accepted his hand gratefully, shooting him an apologetic look. “Sorry, Butcher. Just got a bit distracted”, you admitted, trying to shake off the embarrassment. Butcher’s expression softened slightly, though his eyes still held a hint of amusement. “Well, keep your head in the game, or next time it might be a bit harder”, he warned, his tone gruff but encouraging.

Meanwhile, Ben stood in the doorframe, his smirk widening as he watched the exchange. He couldn't resist adding his own commentary. "Seems like someone's got no practice in anything", he teased, hinted at your recent loss of virginity without outright saying it.

You felt a flicker of annoyance at his comment, but you refused to let it show. Instead, you shot back with a defiant glare. "You want to talk about practice? Maybe you should switch with Butcher, and I'll whip your arrogant supe ass instead", you retorted.

Butcher chuckled, while Ben's smirk only widened. "Touché", he replied, his tone amused as he sauntered into the room, ready to join in on the training session.

"I'd love to see you try", Ben taunted, his voice laced with amusement.

"Bring it on", you challenged, your pulse racing with anticipation.

As Ben walked past you, his arms crossed and a smirk playing on his lips, MM and Butcher exchanged a glance, their eyebrows raised in silent communication.

MM muttered under his breath, "This is gonna get messy".

Butcher nodded in agreement, his expression serious as he watched the tension between you and Ben unfold.

Ben stood casually across from you, his attire relaxed in sweatpants and a black hoodie. He seemed unimpressed by your challenge, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Come on, sweetheart", he taunted. "You really think you can take me on?".

"Watch me".

Ben chuckled, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked you up and down. "I like a bit of fight in a girl", he replied. "But let's see if you can back up that little attitude of yours”.

Ben's smirk widened as he met your defiant gaze. "Don't say I didn't warn you", he said. "I won't go easy on you”.

You met Ben's gaze head-on, the challenge sparking between you like electricity. "I bet, old man", you shot back.

Butcher cleared his throat, his tone stern as he addressed Ben. "Remember, mate, she's just a human. Keep those supe powers in check", he warned, his gaze flicking between the two of you. Ben shrugged off Butcher's warning with a cocky smirk. "I'll play nice", he replied, though his eyes gleamed with mischief. "At least until she gives me a reason not to".

The sparring began, and you moved with agility, trying to anticipate Ben's every move. But no matter how fast you were, he was always a step ahead, effortlessly blocking each of your strikes with precision.

As the fight continued, the tension between you grew palpable. At one point, Ben caught you off guard, his strong arms wrapping around you from behind as he blocked another of your moves. You could feel the heat of his body pressed against your back, his breath warm against your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

Despite the intensity of the moment, there was an undeniable thrill in the closeness of your bodies, the adrenaline of the fight mingling with a different kind of arousal. Ben found it incredibly hot that you were trying to fight him, his own desire flaring as he held you tightly against him.

Ben’s breath grew heavy against your ear, his voice a husky whisper that sent a thrill down your spine. “You’re feisty, I’ll give you that”, he murmured, his tone teasing and flirtatious.

You gritted your teeth, determined to push through the distraction and maintain your composure.

As Ben's arm tightened around your neck, you reacted instinctively, sinking your teeth into his flesh. With a sharp intake of breath, he loosened his grip, giving you the opportunity to break free.

Seizing the moment, you launched yourself at him, catching him off guard and managing to throw him to the ground. But in the heat of the struggle, you ended up straddling his lap, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you looked down at him, a mix of triumph and uncertainty in your eyes.

Ben's gaze met yours, his expression a mixture of surprise and admiration. Despite being momentarily overpowered, there was a glint of respect in his eyes as he looked up at you, a smirk playing on his lips.

Ben's hands gripped your hips firmly, you couldn't help but feel the light pressure of his erection underneath you, sending a shiver down your spine. His grip tightened, almost crushing, but it only added to the rush of arousal coursing through you.

Ben seized the opportunity to roll you over, quickly reversing the position. Now, he knelt above you, his hand tight around your neck, asserting his dominance. With a smirk, he leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "Looks like I've got you right where I want you, sweetheart. You always did have a knack for getting yourself into trouble".

As you struggled beneath him, Ben's firm grip held you in place, his dominance undeniable. Despite your efforts to break free, his strength was overwhelming, leaving you pinned beneath him. With a defiant glare, you tried to push against his hold, but it was no use.

Ben's smirk only widened as he maintained his control over you. Meanwhile, Butcher, who had been observing the exchange with a critical eye, couldn't hide his disapproval. "Oi, enough of that, mate", he interjected gruffly, stepping forward with a stern expression. "Keep your eyes off her, she ain't some bloody toy for you to play with".

Ben's smirk faltered slightly at Butcher's interruption, but he didn't release his grip on you. Instead, he met Butcher's gaze with a challenging glare of his own, the tension between them palpable. With a snarky smirk, Ben quipped, "Someone's feeling a bit overprotective today, aren't they, Butcher?".

Butcher's jaw tightened at the remark, his expression stern as he stepped closer to Ben. "I ain't being overprotective", he retorted firmly. "I'm just reminding you of the consequences of your actions. You may be invincible, mate, but she isn't".

With an eye roll, Ben finally released his grip on you and offered his hand to help you up. However, his tug was way too strong, causing you to stumble against his chest as you regained your footing.

"Easy there", he chuckled, his tone light but tinged with amusement as he steadied you.

You shot him a playful glare, rubbing your sore arm where his grip had been particularly tight. "You could've been more gentle, you know", you muttered, unable to hide the hint of annoyance in your voice.

Ben merely shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. "I'm a soldier, sweetheart. If I fight, I fight", he teased, his tone unapologetic.

You rolled your eyes at his cavalier attitude.

MM chimed in with a sigh, his voice carrying a note of exasperation. "You're just getting too distracted", he remarked, his tone firm but not unkind.

Ben, unusually serious for once, nodded in agreement. "He´s right", he added, his gaze meeting yours briefly. "Against any supe, there's no time for distractions".

You bristled at the criticism, feeling the weight of their expectations bearing down on you. "It was my first damn practice session", you retorted, your frustration bubbling to the surface. "Cut me some slack".

Despite your defiant tone, there was a part of you that couldn't shake the nagging feeling that they were right. You needed to focus if you were going to stand a chance against any real threats.

Butcher approached you, his hand came to rest gently on your lower back, a silent gesture of reassurance. "Hey, not bad for your first go", he said, his tone gruff but approving. "You just need to work on keeping your focus, that's all".

You nodded, grateful for his encouragement.

Meanwhile, Ben's gaze flickered to Butcher's hand on your lower back, a surge of possessiveness stirring within him. He clenched his jaw, a brief flicker of jealousy crossing his features, but he quickly pushed it aside, not wanting to make a scene.

As Butcher and MM began to leave the room, Ben lingered behind for a moment, his gaze fixed on you. With a subtle nod to Butcher, he indicated that he would follow shortly.

Once they were out of earshot, Ben turned his attention back to you, his expression unreadable. "You did alright", he remarked, his tone casual but tinged with a hint of something else.

You met his gaze, feeling a mixture of relief and tension in the air. "Thanks", you replied, your voice slightly hoarse with emotion. "Guess I still have a lot to learn".

Ben's lips quirked into a smirk as he took a step closer, the air between you charged with an undeniable energy. "Don't worry", he said, his voice low and teasing. "I'm sure I can teach you a thing or two".

As the evening wore on and everyone settled into sleep, you found yourself standing in front of the mirror, contemplating your options. Unsure of what Ben wanted from you, you decided that your grandma panties would be better left in the closet.

Examining yourself in the mirror, you opted for something a little more alluring, selecting a pair of underwear that hugged your curves in all the right places. As you slipped them on, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation mingled with nervousness.

You approached Ben's room with cautious steps, the anticipation building with each quiet footfall. As you pushed the door open, you found him sitting shirtless on his bed, a joint dangling from his fingertips while he scrolled through his phone.

The soft glow of the screen illuminated his features, casting shadows across his chiseled chest. You hesitated at the doorway, unsure of how to proceed. With a deep breath, you entered the room, the door clicking shut behind you.

Ben looked up at you, a smirk playing on his lips as he took in your appearance. His gaze lingered on you with a mixture of amusement and desire, sending a shiver down your spine.

"What are you waiting for?", he asked, his voice low and husky. "C´mere."

His invitation was both a command and a plea, and you felt yourself drawn to him irresistibly. With a nervous smile, you approached the bed, anticipation building with each step.

As Ben set his phone aside, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. He sat up slightly, his eyes roaming over you appreciatively.

"You look good", he murmured.

You felt a blush creep into your cheeks at his compliment, the warmth spreading through you at his gaze. "Thanks".

As Ben pulled you onto his lap, his hands firm on your hips, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation mixed with nervousness. Despite the intimacy of the moment, he didn't make any further moves, leaving you to wonder what he was thinking.

You shifted slightly, trying to find a comfortable position on his lap, the tension between you palpable. "What are we doing?", you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, unsure of what to expect next.

As Ben brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face, his touch gentle yet possessive, a shiver ran down your spine. His fingers lingered for a moment, his gaze locked with yours, before he spoke.

"Just sit still", he murmured. Despite the simplicity of his words, there was an underlying intensity that made it impossible to disobey.

You complied with his command, you could feel the weight of his gaze on you, his eyes tracing every curve and contour of your body. Despite your efforts to suppress the nervous fluttering in your stomach, the intensity of the moment was undeniable.

Ben's hands remained firm on your hips, his touch both possessive and reassuring. "Good girl", he murmured, his voice low and tinged with satisfaction. "Just like that".

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your racing heartbeat as you focused on maintaining your stillness. With Ben's eyes on you, every moment felt charged with anticipation, each passing second heightening the tension between you.

"You know, I could make it even more enjoyable for you if you'd let me", Ben whispered, his voice a low murmur against your ear.

Despite the ache throbbing between your legs, you refused to let on to Ben about your discomfort. With a forced smile, you brushed off his suggestion, trying to conceal the twinge of pain that shot through you with every movement.

"I'm fine", you replied, your voice strained as you shifted slightly on his lap.

Deep down, you hoped he wouldn't press further, unwilling to admit to the discomfort that lingered beneath the surface.

Ben's lips curled into a knowing smirk as he observed your strained expression, well aware of your attempt to downplay your discomfort. His usual indifference softened slightly as he decided to play along, his tone laced with teasing amusement.

"Sure you are", he replied with a playful glint in his eyes. "You're not fucking sore at all, are you? All that fighting practice must have toughened you up".

You simply shook your head.

Ben leaned back slightly, studying your expression with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. “Alright, tough girl”, he teased, his tone light but his eyes searching yours. “If you say so”.

Despite his teasing, there was a subtle warmth in his gaze, a silent reassurance that he was there, even if he didn’t verbalize it. He wanted to prove to you, in his own way, that he wasn’t as callous as others perceived him to be.

You met his gaze with determination, refusing to let your discomfort show. “I’m fine”, you insisted, your voice firm, now pushing aside any sign of weakness and pain.

“So, if you’re really not sore”, he began, his tone suggestive, “You up for another round?”.

Your cheeks flushed at his bold question, but you held his gaze steadily.

Seeing your flushed cheeks, Ben couldn't help but feel a surge of amusement mixed with a tinge of curiosity. "Come on", he urged, his tone coaxing. "You can tell me how you really feel. I won't bite".

You hesitated, torn between wanting to maintain your facade of strength and the desire to be honest with him. After a moment of internal struggle, you sighed, conceding to his persistence. "Okay, fine", you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe I'm a little sore".

Ben's smirk softened into a gentle smile as he reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. "There, was that so hard?", he teased, his touch light against your skin. "Don't worry, I won't hold it against you", he winked.

As Ben's hands traced lazily over your hips, slipping under your top and skimming along your sides and back, you couldn't help but shiver at the sensation of his touch against your soft skin.

His touch was surprisingly gentle, his fingertips dancing lightly over your curves as if exploring every inch of you. "You're so soft", he murmured.

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the fluttering in your stomach as his touch sent tingles of electricity coursing through you. "Ben", you whispered, your voice barely a breath as his hands continued to explore your body.

Ben's touch lingered on your skin, his fingers tracing the bruises on your hips with a mix of curiosity and guilt. "I won't fuck you", he murmured, his voice soft but firm. "But touching should be allowed".

You sucked in a sharp breath at his words, feeling a surge of conflicting emotions wash over you. Despite his insistence on not taking things further, the heat of his touch ignited a fire within you, a primal desire that threatened to consume your self-control.

His gaze met yours as he traced the marks on your skin. "I didn't mean to hurt you", he admitted quietly. "I guess I underestimated my strength".

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words sinking in as you struggled to find the right response.

Ben’s touch softened as he spoke, his fingers stilling on your skin as he met your gaze again, this time with sincerity.

“I’m not a bad guy”, he began, his voice quiet but earnest. “But I’m not exactly good either. I’m just… not used to every situation like this”. He paused, his gaze flickering to where his fingertips lingered on your skin. “Especially when it comes to…”, he trailed off, gesturing vaguely to you, unable to find the right words.

Your heart fluttered at his words, the sincerity in his eyes stirring something deep within you. "When it comes to what?", you asked softly, your curiosity piqued as you searched his eyes for answers.

Ben hesitated, his gaze dropping for a moment before meeting yours again. "When it comes to… you", he admitted quietly, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I don't… I'm not good at this", he added, his words trailing off as he struggled to find the right way to express himself without sounding vulnerable.

Despite knowing you shouldn't push Ben too much, your curiosity got the better of you. You were beyond curious about what he was trying to say.

"About me?", you pressed gently, hoping he would open up further.

But Ben's expression hardened slightly, a hint of frustration flickering in his eyes. "Forget it", he muttered dismissively, his tone tinged with a hint of defensiveness. "It doesn't matter".

Before you could press him further, Ben cut you off by leaning in and kissing you with such passion that it took your breath away. The intensity of his kiss made you feel like you were soaring, momentarily distracting you from your questions and uncertainties.

As Ben turned you both, his body hovering above yours, he deepened the kiss before trailing his lips along your jawline. Between kisses, he murmured, "You know I was patient with you, right? I didn't rush you when we… you know".

His words were soft, almost pleading, as if he wanted to convince you that he wasn't as bad as Annie and the others insisted.

As the intensity of the moment enveloped you both, your voices turned into whispers, matching the intimacy of the scene. Ben's hands traced softly along your sides, his touch gentle yet electric as he continued to pepper kisses along your jaw.

"I know I can be a handful", he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "But I've always been patient with you, haven't I?".

His lips continued their featherlight exploration over your skin, tracing every contour of your face and neck with painstaking slowness. The sensation was intoxicating, consuming your senses entirely.

With a soft sigh, you whispered in response, your voice barely above a breathy murmur, "You have…always been patient".

As his lips lingered against your skin, he paused for a moment before lifting his head slightly to meet your gaze. "I always made you feel good, right?", he asked, his voice low.

You met his gaze, the intensity of the moment almost overwhelming as you whispered back, "Yes, Ben".

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he leaned in closer, his breath mingling with yours. "Good", he murmured, before capturing your lips in another searing kiss.

As the kiss deepened, Ben's hands gently cradled your face, his touch tender yet possessive. Between breathless moments, he whispered, "You know that Blondie and the rest just hate me? I would never hurt you".

His words sent a jolt through you, realizing that he had overheard your conversation earlier. Despite the intimacy of the moment, his vulnerability hung in the air, a silent plea for understanding.

With a hint of possessiveness, he continued, his voice laced with urgency, "They don't know you like I do. I wouldn't let anyone hurt you".

His words resonated with a protective edge, revealing a side of him you hadn't fully seen before.

With a determined edge to his voice, he added, "When I'm on that mission for the next two weeks, I need to know you're safe. And I don't want any other man near you, understand?".

With a hint of shyness, you asked, "But why? We're not together".

"I won't touch you ever again if anyone else does", he stated firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Ben's lips curled into a smirk as he added, "And trust me, sweetheart, you wouldn't want to see me angry if someone else lays a finger on you".

"And just so we're clear", Ben continued, his voice low and possessive, "this pretty pussy is mine now. Got it?".

As Ben's lips trailed down your neck, he sucked lightly on your skin, urging you to answer with a low, demanding growl.

"Tell me", he murmured between kisses, his voice husky with desire. "Whose pretty pussy is it?".

You hesitated for a moment, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks.

"Yours", you finally whispered, your voice barely audible above the sound of your racing heart.

Ben's lips curved into a satisfied smirk against your skin as he heard your response. "That's right, doll", he murmured. "All mine".

Ben's smirk turned into a mischievous grin as he leaned back slightly to meet your gaze. "And since you're too sore for me to fuck you properly", he teased, his voice low and suggestive, "I'm gonna eat that pretty pussy of yours so good, you won't be able to think about something else for the next two weeks".

As Ben's lips trailed down your body, leaving a trail of hot kisses in their wake, a shiver of anticipation ran through you. His touch was electric, sending tingles of pleasure dancing along your skin.

You let out a soft sigh as his lips hovered just above the waistband of your shorts, the anticipation building with each passing moment. "Ben", you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

He looked up at you with a wicked grin, his eyes dark with desire. "Don't worry, sweetheart", he whispered huskily, his breath warm against your skin. "I'm gonna make you forget everything but me".

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

-

Part 14

-

Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch @mimaria420 @kaz11283 @uncle-eggy @jackles010378 @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @mostlymarvelgirl @meowmeowyoongles

[mrs-santoss]

Headlines - Neymar Imagines

Summary: "Why do they say that about me, Y/N? It's not like I'm fouling myself on purpose." Neymar feels attacked by what social media says about his game. Neymar's POV: Post after post, everyone was joking and calling my injuries "acting". This was driving me crazy. I don't want this to be my reputation, because it wasn't true. We went to bed with Y/N together and she fell asleep pretty quick, as always. I kept tossing and turning on the bed, so i decided to go out on the balcony and sit for a while, I don't want to wake her up with my movements. At first, this didn't bother me, but now that i'm a key player for Brazil in the Qatar World Cup 2022, this idea grew bigger. Even my most serious injuries are made fun of. It takes a few missed games for the people to realize I was actually hurt. I try not to share this feeling with anyone especially my girlfriend who's always worried about me getting sad because of these stupid rumors. The sun was starting to rise. I couldn't stop scrolling. After a few minutes, a felt a small hand massaging my shoulder. It was Y/N who woke up and cuddled up next to me. "Ney? Why are you awake, mey anjo?" she says softly, still half-awake. "I had a bad dream. I couldn't sleep after that. Why are you here, bebê? Why did you wake up? It's still early." I say to her, kissing her forehead. She laid her head on my chest and placed one hand on my cheek, I kissed her hand repeatedly. She loves it when I do that. We stayed in silence for a couple minutes before Y/N spoke up. "Amor, I can tell when you're lying." she looked up at me, her forehead touching my chin." You know you can always take to me, right?" "I know, amor. It's just that I don't want to bother you with any stupid thoughts that I might have going on in my head." I responded, looking down at her. "Bebê, anything that bothers you will also bother me. It's much more difficult for me if you don't open up to me about it." she says back to me. "I know, amor. I'm just irritated and kind of sad about everything that's being said about my injuries, you know?" I confess to her. I don't dare to look her in the eyes, I looked up at the sky. She shifted in her place, removed her head from my chest and looked at me. I'm still not making eye contact. "Ney, can you look at me, bebê?" she begs, cupping my cheeks. I hold her hands on my cheeks and lean in on her touch further and close my eyes. "Neymar?" I finally look up at her. "Amor, you're a threat to those players, because you're better than them. They want to "accidentally" foul you to get rid of you. This should only make you feel better about yourself. Look at all these amazing players, your friend Lionel. He also gets fouled in the most serious ways because he's good. And the people who say those stuff about you online are the fans of those players who injure you. It's just their opinion, amor. This doesn't define you. It will only define you if you start believing it too." she speaks softly to me, her voice always manages to calm me down. Her words were so spot on, I felt a single tear roll down my cheek. She wipes it quickly with her thumb, her hands still cupping my cheeks. "I know, Y/N. It's just that sometimes it gets too much, you know?" I say her, still sounding unconvinced about her words. "That's why I'm here, amor. I'm supposed to help go through hard times like these. I'm supposed to remind you that you're nothing they say about you.So, please don't hide anything from me." she says softly, and reaches to kiss my lips. "God, I love you so much, meu amor." I say to her. I don't think she realizes how much of an impact she has on me. I adore her. "I love you too, meu amor. So, please don't focus on these stupid things. You are amazing, Neymar Jr." she says to me and smiles softly, causing me to smile too. " Now, let's go back to bed. You have the day off, and I will call in sick so we can lay on bed all day today. How does that sound, Ney?" she asks me. "That sounds perfect, meu anjo."

[jusalle]

☆ Neymar Jr Imagine ☆

• Injury •

You played for Brazil womens team. Currently you were in a game against Poland. They were a difficult team, you'd like to say. They played rough but thats how you saw it.

Right now it was half time, everyone was already tired.

1-1

Brazil was currently in a tie and you wanted to make a point so bad but Polands defense was very good so it was even more difficult.

There was only 2 things on your mind, making a goal and you wanted your fiance Neymar.

As you looked up from your lap you looked up to look in the crowds and you see Ney.

Ney could tell you were exhausted but he knew you didn't want to loose.

He saw that you were looking in his direction and gave you a generous smile and gave you a thumbs up which you accepted gladly.

Once half time was over the game started, you had some energy left so you decided to use it for this half.

For a good 15 minutes you were doing well, until Poland started to target you.

By the 78th minute, you had the ball as you were getting closer to the goal. Then to your left you see an opposite player coming towards you.

You managed to get around them but not shortly after they were right behind you.

They managed to catch up and they were right beside you trying to push you but you held your ground.

Purposely they stepped on your ankle and it wasn't gentle, they basically put there whole force onto you.

You fell to the ground, trying not to cry from the pain. You simply covered yourself with your jersey. You pulled your shirt up to cover your face so the media won't take pictures of you.

When Neymar saw you fall, he was furious at the other player who fouled you. He wanted to jump over the railings and run to you but he knew he couldn't.

Neymar had his fair share with being hurt on the ankle so he knew the pain you were feeling but once he saw you pulled your shirt over your face, his chest ached.

Few moments later you felt yourself being lifted into a stretcher. A million thoughts running through your head.

What if you won't be able to play the whole season or what if it decreases the way you play.

You didn't want to think what the outcomes will be.

At that moment you just wanted to be in Ney's arms and cry.

You came out of your thoughts when you realized you were in the medical room, alone. Since you were alone you took the chance and let all your emotions out, you began to tear up.

As you were trying to not cry, you didn't even notice Ney coming into the room.

" Don't cry Meu Amor" Ney said softly

"What?" I breathed as I tried to act stupid cause you didn't want Ney worrying, he already has enough things on his plate, he dosnt need another thing

" I'm not crying Ney" you said as you tried to calm down.

" Anjo,your eyes are red and swollen" He said softly as he looked at you

" Don't lie to me Meu Amor" he deadpanned

You knew he wouldn't drop it so you let down your walls and let him in.

He walked up to you and hugged you as you held him back.

" Everything will be fine Meu Amor" He said as he whispered into your ear.

" Ney, you don't know that, I could be out for the whole season Ney." You said as you started at him with your watery ones.

As he looked at you, he saw you let a teat drop down, he puts his hand to your cheek and wiped your tear with his thumb.

" Meu Amor, trust me when I saw this. You'll be fine, trust me Anjo, I know how it feels right now but please." Ney said pleading quietly as he stared into your eyes

You took a moment to breathe since your ankle was still throbbing from the pain.

" você é bom demais para mim, meu amor, mas eu confio em você ney, sempre confiarei" You said as you gently kissed Ney

(You're too good for me, my love, but Ido trust you ney, I always will)

" Eu te amo para todo o sempre" Ney said as he pulled away from the kiss and he rested his forehead on yours.

( I love you forever and ever)

" Me too Ney, I love you Meu Amor" you said as you stared into his greenish- brownish eyes as he looks into yours.

••••

Hello my lovlies, this one was request and I hope yall enjoy this one and I thought it was cute so enjoy! 🤍

[maccreadysbaby]

A Hundred Ways to Become a Wayne

batfamily + oc insert

tw: none

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER. Get ready for a bittersweet ending my friends 🥹 THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR LOVE AND SUPPORT ON THIS PROJECT. It means so much to me🥹

part forty-six

❝ EVERYTHING IS OKAY? ❞

SUNDAY — SEPTEMBER 20 — 3:04PM

LIFE WENT LARGELY BACK TO NORMAL (IN IT'S TYPICAL STRANGE WAY).

The Secret Keeper was dead. The metahumans were released from mind control. Gotham was cleaning up, getting ready to rebuild. Everyone was okay.

For a while, Bentley was nothing more than a whole lot of sore. Everything hurt, like his internal organs and all. He was practically living off of ibuprofen and other painkillers. He wasn’t allowed to eat anything super hard to digest, so he’d been inhaling soup and jello and tea in favor of being in the least amount of pain possible.

Nico’s parents came to get him a few days after Bentley’s surgery. It was a dramatic reunion, as expected, and Bentley was glad about it. Nico seemed glad about it, too. They thanked Bruce for his help and took Nico home without a moment, to maybe, hopefully, talk things over.

Asten was staying at the Wayne Manor until further notice. Bruce had been talking to the right people and already had some kind of court date or something set up. Bentley wasn’t sure what that was all about (maybe something about sending Asten back to Brazil? Which would suck), but he did know that Asten was doing pretty good for a kid who’d been dead. He was more closed off and quiet than normal, and had refused a guest room in favor of sleeping on the other side of Bentley’s bed, but it was okay. Nico made sure to call them nearly every single day and talk about everything and nothing, which Asten seemed to enjoy. He’d be okay.

The Wayne family was there in full force to make sure Asten and Bentley were okay and taken care of and happy. Not a single Wayne stayed hidden, not a single one left — they all made sure to come to dinner every night and tell stupid stories, to have their nightly time in the den watching movies they’d all seen too many times already, to coax Alfred into playing games around the table with them, to hang out in the backyard with the dogs, to have huge spontaneous sleepovers downstairs when their movie marathon got a little out of hand. The Wayne’s were back to how they’d been when Bentley first got there. They were the real Wayne’s again.

And for the first time in a long time, everything was okay.

Until it wasn’t.

Until Nico showed up on the doorstep of Wayne Manor a week and one day after Bentley’s surgery with bad, bad news.

“You’re what?” Asten growled.

Nico looked down at the concrete beneath his shoes. His parents were behind him in their car, doors closed but windows rolled down, talking to Bruce, who was standing out next to the vehicle. Nico’s eyes and nose were red. The sun was shining and the birds were chirping — it was a nice, not freezing Monday afternoon. But that didn’t matter.

Nico scraped the toe of his tennis shoe across the concrete, not bringing his red-rimmed blue eyes up. “We’re moving.”

Bentley (decked out unabashedly in his sailboat pajamas) and Asten (also unashamedly wearing the same pjs he’d had on for at least two days) stared blankly; one shocked, the other on the edge of livid.

Nico was… leaving? Like really leaving and never coming back?

Bentley muttered: “Where?” At the same time Asten spat: “When?”

Nico still didn’t look up, but instead, stared at the bottoms of his black sweatpants. “Missouri. A week from today. My… parents don’t think it’s safe here anymore. They have friends there.”

Bentley glanced over at Asten, who was staring, calculatively. His green eyes flicked back to Nico’s parents’ car with the same fire in it that he had the day he knocked out Jesse Todryk. “Your parents' friends can piss right off.”

“Asten,” Bruce warned from the car (he really does have Batman ears). “Don’t make this harder than it already is for him.”

(Oh yeah, did Bentley mention that Bruce had already eased into dad-mode with Asten? Because he had. No one in the Manor expected much less, really.)

Nico kept staring dutifully at the ground. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, hardly audible, voice wavering slightly. He brought the sleeve of his blue hoodie up to rub at his eyes. “I… I don’t have a choice.”

As it became prominent he was crying, Bentley stepped up and hugged him. Nico didn’t bother putting his arms around him, choosing to instead keep covering his face, but Bentley didn’t mind.

One of Bentley’s only two friends was really leaving? For real?

Don’t. Freaking. Cry. That would make it so much worse for him. Bentley blinked back a dull sting behind his eyes and forced it away.

They were all quiet for a minute.

“I told them everything. It’s my fault we’re leaving,” Nico muttered, bringing his arms up and around Bentley after a moment. “They-they said there’s someone in Central City that will train me. The same guy that saved my life when I was a baby.”

Bentley hummed. Didn’t the super fast guy who was on the Justice League with Bruce live in Central City?

There was no way Nico was going to train with The Flash, was there?

(Was the Barry from the adoption letter The Flash?)

Bentley rubbed his back lightly. “That’ll be good for you.”

He and Asten shared brief eye contact, during which Bentley made his best please just be supportive face, and after a moment, Asten walked away, disappearing back into the manor without a single word. 

Bentley sighed lightly.

“Asten’s pissed,” Nico muttered, and he felt Nico grab onto the back of his shirt. “I knew he would be.”

“He’s just sad,” Bentley tried, rubbing his back a little again. “He is your best friend.”

“And so are you. It’s like they don’t even care that I’m having to leave you guys behind. That this affects more than just me,” Nico groaned in annoyance.

Bentley breathed in, glancing at Nico’s parents’ car. They were smiling, chatting with Bruce. “If it’s going to be better and safer for you, then… I’d rather you go.”

Nico pulled away from him, giving him a deadpan look. “No offense, Bentley, but if you were told it would be better for someone if you cut off your own legs with a handsaw, you’d do it.”

“I would not,” Bentley argued, and Nico wiped at his watery eyes. A moment of silence passed. 

“This isn’t really something we can change, so we should make the best of it, right?” Bentley questioned. “Maybe you can come over one more time before you leave.”

“Maybe… I’ll ask,” Nico replied, sighing lightly, running a hand through his hair. “I hate this.”

“It’ll be okay,” Bentley reassured. (But would it really be okay?) “We can talk to you on the phone every day.”

“But Asten-“

“Trust me, we’ll take care of Asten,” Bentley replied, attempting the patented Bruce Wayne reassuring smile. “You’re going to a new place to train with someone who has superpowers, away from creepy Gotham and Jesse Todryk and supervillains. I think it’ll be great. And you can call us whenever you want to.”

 Nico sniffled, then stared at the ground. “But, Asten’s whole family got killed and now his best friend is leaving. What if this, like, pushes him over an edge? Again?”

Bentley shrugged lightly. “We have a Jason for that.”

“Bentley, I’m serious,”

“So am I,” He replied, glancing back at the car momentarily. “Everything will be okay here.”

“What if I don’t want it to be okay?” Nico questioned, catching Bentley off-guard. Their eyes met and there was some level of hurt in his blue irises. “What if I want you guys to need me here?”

Bentley sighed lightly, blinking a few times, looking around. “You’re our friend. We’ll always need you.”

“You can say that now, but we’re all just going to forget about each other in a few years. That’s what happens every time I move,” Nico muttered, crossing his arms. 

“We broke into our teacher’s cabin, got kidnapped and turned into metahumans, and went into a war zone together. I don’t think there’s much of a risk of us forgetting each other,” Bentley stated, snickering lightly. “It’ll-“

“Yeah, but one day you’re going to have a bunch of new friends and just say something like oh yeah once me and this blonde kid played superhero. That’s always what happens when someone moves. And I’m just going to be stuck at home being homeschooled and doing nothing forever.”

“Nico, we’ve gotta go, bud!” His father called from the driver's side window.

Bentley sighed lightly, glancing back at Nico, whose eyes were watering again. “Nico, I promise I will not forget about you, okay? None of us will. We’ll talk all the time.”

Nico nodded in response, but didn’t say anything else. Instead, he turned and silently made for the car, passing Bruce on the way, who patted his shoulder reassuringly.

Bentley watched Nico climb in the car, and Bruce made his way back to the manor, settling with him in the doorway.

The car pulled off.

One of Bentley’s first ever friends was leaving.

Bruce’s hand landed between his shoulder blades and rubbed his back there. “You okay, chum?”

“I don’t think so,”

(He didn’t cry until Nico’s car was long gone.)

—

SUNDAY — SEPTEMBER 27 — 2:23PM

Asten was pissed for the whole week. Whatever small progress had been made to pull him out of his shell and help open him up after his uncle’s death disappeared completely. He was back to hardly talking to anyone, like he had been right after he’d started staying there. (Bentley pretended to be asleep when he heard Asten crying the night after Nico told them.)

He still came to dinner and the den and everything, but he just wasn’t talking. Not when Bentley tried, not when Jason tried, not when Bruce or Dick tried.

But, even with Asten in silence, time went on too fast. Days passed where Nico called just to cry and Asten never said anything, so Bentley took up the comforting role as best he could. Astern didn’t talk again until Nico came over on Sunday afternoon, to spend some time with them before he left on Monday morning.

Bruce was in town for the court time he had set up. Dick had gone back to Bludhaven for the day and would be back for dinner. Damian was very obviously hiding and avoiding the emotional mess. Jason and Tim had gone somewhere (Together? Which was weird. And suspicious. Bentley was pretty sure they were trying to avoid an explosion, too.) which meant that, besides the dogs and Alfred, who appeared occasionally, there was no mediator. So the time Nico was over was mostly spent in the front courtyard in silence. The dogs were playing with each other in the sunny grass in front of Wayne Manor, running the driveway and having the time of their little lives, but Bentley, Nico, and Asten were sitting quietly on the stairs. Saying nothing. Doing nothing.

Nico was obviously not taking the move well. As soon as he’d arrived, it was obvious by the flushing on his face that he’d been crying again. Bentley would be lying if he said it didn’t hurt a little. After all, Nico was literally one of his first friends ever. They’d been through a lot of crazy crap together, and he was being dragged away because of it. (Did that mean it was technically Bentley’s fault he was moving?) Not to mention how much Asten had been through with him.

It didn’t matter anymore anyways, they couldn’t change his parents' minds. 

For now, they settled for sitting on the steps. In silence.

For a while.

Until Nico exhaled shakily, on the verge of crying again. “This is torture.”

Bentley, completely clueless as to what he should say, scooted closer to him and squeezed his shoulder instead. 

“It’ll be okay,” Was what he settled on whispering.

“No it won’t,” Was Nico’s quick response. “It’ll be a nightmare. How am I supposed to just leave? Asten’s practically lived with me for two entire years. We’ve gone through so much crap in these past few months and they just want to take me away? Without asking? Most of my life has been in Gotham and now they want to change that?”

Bentley hummed. “Have you told them that?”

“Yeah. They’re all like we understand honey but it’s not safe here anymore,” Nico mocked. “They don’t even-“

At that very moment, Nico’s parents drove through the gate of Wayne Manor.

It suddenly hit Bentley that he might never see him again. 

As soon as Nico saw the car, he started full-on crying, hard.

The three of them stood up as Nico’s parents approached like they were about to get sentenced to prison. Nico turned on a dime and hugged Bentley, hard, and Bentley hugged him back.

“I’m so sorry,” Nico muttered. Bentley blinked a few times, trying to be strong and subdue the faint burn that was surfacing behind his eyes.

“It’s okay,” He replied, in a whisper, just in case his voice were to break.

After a minute, the car pulled up to the house, and Nico pulled away, glancing over at Asten. “I… I’m so sor-“

Before he could finish, Asten grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him into a tight embrace.

“You’re going to be the most epic superhero ever,” He said, though his face was mostly hidden, and Bentley assumed it was because his voice was a little thick. “I’m... gonna miss you.”

As if Nico wasn’t crying hard enough already. He pulled an arm out of the embrace and extended it toward Bentley, offering him one last hug.

Bentley accepted, engaging in the very first group hug of his life. (He liked it. He would’ve liked it more if they weren’t all almost crying, though.)

“Nico, bud, it’s time to go,” Came his father’s voice.

They all separated, looking around with slight horror on their features. Asten was crying, too — only a little, but he did have real, actual tears on his face. Nico was sobbing and kept hiding his face away in his hands. Whatever will to be strong in front of them that Bentley had kept up cracked, and he started crying, too.

Nico didn’t say anything else on the way to the car.

Bruce pulled into the driveway.

There was a long time where no one said anything. Bruce parked and went to Nico’s parents’ window to bid them goodbye, and Asten and Bentley stood on the steps, silently.

The car left.

Bruce approached the manor with that same sympathetic look on his face that he always had when something like this happened. He was in a nicely pressed suit from his time at court, his hair sleek and perfected. He climbed the stairs and settled between Bentley and Asten, watching Nico’s car go down the driveway and disappear down the road with them.

Now their trio was down to two.

Bentley hiccuped lightly, and he felt Bruce’s hand land on the back of his head. 

What were they going to do now?

—

Dinner was only a little quieter that night. Everybody was aware and considerate of Bentley and Asten, that they might not be up for much talking, which was nice, because everybody was still talking to each other. Sometimes it made Bentley feel better just to listen.

He and Asten had been at a loss pretty much all day, settling down for the most part in the den to sit and halfway watch movies. It was weird, knowing that they wouldn’t see Nico anymore. And it kind of really sucked?

At the dinner table, Bentley was sitting between Asten and Damian, directly across from Dick, who was between Jason and Tim. Duke, Steph, and Cass were on the end of the table, Steph at the head opposite from Bruce. Of course, it was Dick who was doing most of the storytelling and joke making. Alfred had made spaghetti for dinner again (given that it was both Bentley and Asten’s favorites.) and it was really good.

It would be okay. It would — his family was alive and fine and happy. It would be okay.

“I have an announcement to make,” Bruce said suddenly, and the table quieted, everyone’s eyes drifting over to him. His icy irises flicked around the table warily. “As you all know, I went to court today to address the issue of sending Asten back to Brazil, to be put in the foster care system there. There were Gotham and São Paulo officials there who were… mostly inclined to send him back to his home country.”

Bentley deflated like a balloon.

The trio couldn’t turn to one already.

He saw Asten deflate, too, immediately hanging his head.

“…And I won,”

The table suddenly burst into excited chatter, and both Bentley and Asten’s heads came up with a snap. Bruce was looking straight at Asten now, that Bruce Wayne smile on his face.

“I won emergency custody of you, Asten,”

Asten cried at the dinner table.

(Everything was okay.)

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💚

—

tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @flyrobinflyy @skylathescholar @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun @xiaonothere @beatyoutothatusernameloser

thank you all SO MUCH for supporting me and my boys🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 I could never ask for better readers and friends🥰

[disfrutalakia]

Okay, I had been meaning to write this for awhile and what best time to do it than at 3am in Brazil right?

Anyway, time for me to be ill about Forever which will be under a read more cause you guys know how much I like to ramble.

Okay first of all, I'm specifically talking about Forever post happy pills arc.

When he woke up from his coma he was meet with a bit of chaos, a lot of people were at the order during this time but still Forever managed to thank the people he wanted to and even made promises of "bringing your color back" to Bad they hugged and then he managed to talk with Pac and let him know that for him, Pac is a hero.

After this there is the chaos of the event but Forever is quiet comparing with how he usually his, he takes time to resolve everything and Bagi is found, they go on a walk and he is hit with a frying pan, she tells him she doesn't care about his missing son and he just accepts her words, too deep into his own head to really retaliate. And then, at the end of the day he goes back to the "moon house" and takes his first step towards healing, he breaks stone Richas. Which takes a lot out of him.

The next day when he wakes up he is overjoyed, he sees that his beloved sister is back and maybe, just maybe he could have someone to hear him out, but when he arrives he notices she has been crying and when she says it was because of her knee hurting, he didn't believe her for a second, but didn't want to be push, and then she asked about the drugs she heard about him using and if he was okay and what can he do but say that he will be someday? He can't worry Baghera when she looks so much worse than he does. So his wellbeing is not important.

And then the flower thing, Forever is not someone to show he cares so directly, he knows who he cares about it but he rarely shows it but now? He is making an effort to at least try to cheer up his sad friends with flowers, he wants to investigate Bad to figure out what's going on with him, he wants to bring his colors back, he wants everyone he cares about to be happy again even if he is still screaming from pain inside.

Then that meeting with cucurucho happens, on the old times he used to joke and laugh even during those meetings but not now, now he is tense, his lands probably shake a bit and his voice is carefully crafted to not show much emotions, Cucurucho trusts those pills on his hands again and for a moment, a very brief one he thought about them, thought about how he would let himself become lost in then if Richas was truly dead. Then, he sees old pictures of him and Richas together and he decides against using the pills ever again, he hides then away, under a fireplace so if he ever gets tempted to touch them again, his hands will burn with the fire. But he is keeping them safe to make antidotes with incase shit ever happens again, he refuses to let Pac's work go to waste.

He refuses to not be himself again, to lose his agency like that.

Right now, his only focus is helping his friends who are very not well, he can take care of himself the others are always a priority and they will remain the priority for the rest of his life. His pain being buried deeper and deeper, not cause nobody would be willing to hear it but because he isn't willing to talk about it.

So he tries, he tries to joke and laugh with his friends, to forget the horrible reality but they all can notice how his smile is not really there, how his laugh is a lot more quieter now.

The old Forever is gone, what remains is the most self sacrificial part of himself that would rather putting everyone else's problems before his own.

Because for him, he is nothing without his family.

[nightscat]

Summary: your husband is playing in the world cup so you couldn't miss his game <33

You were so happy that richarlison got to play with brazils national football team, it was his first time playing there so you encouraged him as much as you could.

Unfortunately you didn't get to attend his first games because of work, you couldn't just leave work because you were an important person there, and they always needed you, richarlison was comprehensive but felt bad nonetheless, he begged you to go with him but he knew that you couldn't.

You watched every game of his on TV from work, and you showed him off to your friends and the people who work with you because you couldn't help it, especially when he dedicated his goals to you while making your initial with his hands and a heart.

Richarlison on the other hand couldn't stop thinking about you, he always hoped you were watching and supporting him, and he dedicated every goal to you, even his teammates got tired because of how much he talked about you , all his teammates knew you, and had previously met you , they loved you and thought you were the perfect match for richarlison.

The day before the game between Brazil and Siberia, richarlison texted you but you didn't answer, he first thought that you were too busy at work so he brushed it off, but when he called you and texted multiple times and you still didn't answer he got worried, like really worried.

He started pacing around the room , "what's wrong with you dude" vini asked , "she hasn't texted or called yet, I'm starting to worry" he replied honestly, "when did you last text her?" Paquéta asked , "like 4 or 5 hours ago" "she might be busy, or hanging out with her friends" neymar said, "no I don't think so, even when she's very busy she finds time to call or even text, she never didn't have time to answer my text ".

The guys managed to convince him that you were okay and that he doesn't need to let it get into his head because they have an important match tomorrow, but rich couldn't let it go he just prayed to God that you were okay and safe.

On the day of the match they were warming up , and on their break they were talking and laughing to lighten the mood up.

Before the game by like 20 minutes rich and ney were talking when someone tapped richarlison's shoulder "sorry to bother you but I'm such a big fan and I wanted an autograph", it was a girl's voice, he then noticed vini and paquéta smiling while neymar started chuckling a little bit.

"Yes of cour- " that's when he turned around and saw you, you were wearing his jersey with the biggest smile on your face, "SUPRI-" before you could finish your sentence you felt yourself swinging in the air.

"Rich put me down!" you were laughing so hard that your stomach hurt, he put you down and rested his forehead against yours "I was so worried about you meu amor" he managed to say, "sorry love I couldn't answer because I was on the plane" you giggled , he then smashed his lips against yours, you felt like you were on cloud nine, "don't ever do that to me again" he whispered against your lips, "I won't I promise, but aren't you happy that I came?" You said teasingly, "oh you don't know how happy I am anjo".

After you both had your cute moment it was time for the game to start and you were cheering richarlison as hard as you could, and when he scored the scissor kick you yelled on the top of your lungs, and he of course dedicated that goal to you while making a heart and blowing you a kiss.

After the game, you couldn't stop kissing rich because of how happy and proud you were, you of course congratulated the whole team, that's when neymar nudged richarlison "Hey don't thank me it's because of this pombo that we managed to win" he said with a smile on his face.

After that day you promised yourself that you'll attend all of richarlisons games just to see his smile while seeing you there.

Writers note: AAAA I hope this is what you wanted 😭🙏🏼 and I hope you like it, love you sm lovelies 💗

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

hello dear! i really like your works and i really love reading your writing but i'm shy to make requests but after reading comfort works i finally got the courage to ask for something....

so can i order the S4 from the prompt list? with fuegoleon, nozel and yami

SSHSHHSJJ I can't hahaha ho God I'm embarrassed sorry it's just my first time asking and English is not my native language...well I guess that's how it is _ ho Aaaaaa say hi to your fans here in Brazil :)

✨️💙✨️💛✨️💚✨️

Hello love~! ^^

I'm super, super happy to hear that you like my works!! And I'm delighted that you found the courage to make a request! ^^ No need to apologize though, English isn't my native language either, so I get it. It can definitely be nerve-wrecking, but you'll learn by using the language. Also: HIYA~!! ^^

Oh some hurt-comfort my beloved~

I have written this for Yami in the past and you can find it from here, so I shall include Fue and Nozel under the cut ^^

Prompt: Them thinking their s/o died in battle, but in fact didn't Genre: Hurt-comfort Pairings: Fuegoleon x gn!reder, Nozel x gn!reader Fanfic type: Oneshots Warnings: angst in the beginning, fear of s/o having died, mentions of injuries, the men being worried, sad and relieved, but there's comfort in the end Total length: ~1.7k

Fuegoleon

Fuegoleon Vermillion. He was the first born son of the House Vermillion; coming from a line of capable combat mages, and as such, he was praised for it. He was celebrated for it. And it was the stead that he knew for himself. A life where he had accepted that he might lose his life in battle, because that was a fact. Many combat mages fell in the line of duty. But he had simply supposed that it was the life he lived with the role he held.

A wrong decision could mean the difference between life and death. It was self-evident to him. And it was something of which he reminded his knights regularly. Because it was a rule of the life they lived.

And yet… he had never applied that rule to you. Because surely you wouldn’t. You were smart enough, capable enough… lucky enough to avoid it. Since sometimes you needed a little bit of luck to come unscathed from a battle.

Yes… in his subconscious mind he had simply accepted that no harm would befall on you, not if he did his job as a captain well.

Nothing bad would happen to you.

Surely.

So… on that one, faithful day, when one of his knights ran to him, bringing word from a mission, he thought it to be a poor joke at first. The first few seconds that ticked in the air.

‘Lifeless’, had been the word used.

Life… less…

Less  of… life… But there was still the word ‘life’ in it… So… So…

Incomprehensible. The word seemed… incomprehensible to him. Though he knew the definition of it, but it just… didn’t… make sense.

He was sure his mana flared up. It must have.

Because the windows shattered.

His office was… yes, there was glass everywhere.

But he was already out of the door.

The headquarters.

He didn’t think he had ever flown with such speed before, but still he thought Salamander to be too slow.

Why did it need to be so slow? He would have thought the spirit to be… faster than that? But he supposed that he had been delusional.

He supposed.

The medics yelled something as he raced through the infirmary. But he couldn’t hear them.

Just more nonsense.

Nonsense. All of it. Just gibberish.

---

You opened your eyes to see … a ceiling.

There was a dull pain to your side, one that seemed to course through all your body from that one point onwards. And it was as if all strength had seeped out of you, into the mattress, or maybe the thin air around you.

It was difficult to tell. Not that it mattered.

Your eyes turned down from the white ceiling, and started circling around the room. But before you managed to do more than take a deep breath, there was a sound, a voice calling out to you.

“My love?”

You knew that voice. You knew that gentle, tender touch that took a hold of your hand.

And as your eyes met with his, gazing into the sea of purple that wasn’t quite royal purple and not quite lavender, you saw nothing but sorrow. An ocean of worry.

There was a hint of red lining the white of his eyes… and it wasn’t the red markings. You were quite convinced of it.

“Hey…” you managed with a dry whisper. It felt as if your throat was lined with sandpaper.

But. You were there.

“I… worried for you,” he admitted, but there was depth in those syllables that spoke of so much more than mere worry.

They spoke of terror, something you didn’t think his tone of voice could manage. His voice had never seemed the type to know such an emotion, and yet… there it was.

“I’m still here,” you told him with that same, quiet, raspy voice, and gave him a small smile, but a smile nonetheless. You didn’t know what else to do, not in that moment.

There would be a time to go through the events of that mission, but it’d come later. For now, it was just about being there. That you were still there.

But the way he held onto your hand, with pale knuckles, told you of how much he dreaded to let go. A sense of fear, that if he let go, you wouldn’t come back to him. It was as if, he feared that the secure hold he had of you, was the one lifeline still keeping you there, with him.

In a way, it seemed silly, but in a lot of other way, it was so, so touching and heartfelt.

And who could blame him?

“I love you,” you told him.

And the way he drew in air to his lungs, as if to gather himself, so that his relief wouldn’t roll down his cheeks, already told you what words he’d utter as a reply, before they left his lips.

“I love you too.”

Nozel

Nozel Silva. He was a man who had lost a lot during his life, despite being royalty. Despite being fortunate and privileged in many, other, ways. But it was meaningless compared to what he lacked. What he had lost. Which was why he didn’t want to lose anyone dear to him ever again.

It was the one fear he held in his heart. That he would fail to keep his loved ones safe. That they would die, and he’d be, again, helpless in the face of death to do anything. Despite having grown older and stronger.

Despite having followed in the footsteps of his mother, and becoming a captain of the Silver Eagles.

It was a very real fear to him; that he might lose again. But he didn’t think it to be right, not since learning, not since knowing better, that he had the right to deny you from living the life you wanted and working as a knight. In a way it was a way of keeping you close as well. Because he could be there, nearby, most of the time. Though as time passed, he convinced himself that he was being foolish. That he was overthinking it. That he was being unreasonably worried.

But then, as he was overseeing a training session, he could see from the corner of his eye one of his subordinates that he had sent with you onto a mission.

And he was shaking. Shivering.

Something had gone wrong. But nothing had quite prepared him for what the knight managed to mumble, spit out after a long, stern scowl.

It hadn’t simply been a mission gone wrong.

Not ‘just’ wrong…

Though he couldn’t think of a word in that moment that would have been worse than wrong; more chilling than horrid. A lot of words… he had a lot of worse, none of which quite sufficed.

“…What?” Had been the only question, only word leaving him. And the tone, was deeper than any winter frost they had known in Clover. Harsher than the weather of the mountains between Clover and Spade. The chill of it… he could feel it laying down a layer of frost over even his own very bones.

He took a hold of the knight by the collar, but he barely realized it.

There was something about an infirmary, and how ‘they’ were trying everything.

He didn’t need anything else.

He only needed the statement of ‘they are trying’.

And though Nozel knew that his eagle was fast, it could never be fast enough.

Even if he didn’t know what to do when he got there. He simply knew that he needed to be there.

He had to. He had to. Hehadto. Hadtohadtohadto HAD TO-, be there.

Be there…

Only to be told not to look.

‘Don’t look’.

But he needed to see, so that he might know, for himself, what would happen.

---

The room… was quiet. Or then it just seemed quiet, and your ears didn’t register whatever sounds existed around you.

Perhaps it was the latter, since there was also a spinning sensation in your head. Light headed. And you ached all over. But you could feel all your limbs… that was good. Positive.

So, you moved your hand to your forehead, even if it hurt. Even if it made you wince in pain.

“Darling?”

There was a sense of urgency in the tone. But it was wrapped in a veil of taffeta, of concern and tender emotions that he held for you, which shone through the layers and layers of worry. It couldn’t be anything else but worry, that tone.

You turned your head to see Nozel sitting in the corner of the room.

There were bags under his eyes, and his hair … it was a mess. Strands of silver poked out from here and there. He looked like he hadn’t slept at all, and how he probably hadn’t eaten a single bite ever since you wound up where you were. Which made your heart clench in a different kind of a way.

“Mhm?” You hummed as he hurried from the chair he was in, to you.

“How are you?”

Again that tone; tone which was soft, urgent and filled with the sorrow’s of his heart.

“I feel like I was… ran over by… something,” you admitted. Because that was how you really felt.

He crouched by the bed, with his lips parted, as if he wanted to say something, but didn’t quite know how. As if he didn’t really know what to say. And perhaps he didn’t. He did and he didn’t. It was all a big jumble of words, of thoughts in his head.

“I… worried,” he said with a whisper.

And you… couldn’t help but look at him, because… he doesn’t-, say things like that. He shows that he cares, but he doesn’t… say it.

He never says it.

Only that he did.

He said it.

He said that he worried for you. You could see it from him yes, but to hear it, it just-, made your heart skip a beat and it… It just made you more certain about how you loved him and how he loved you.

He might have been a man who wasn’t good with words, but sometimes he said the most perfect things. And when he said it, he meant it.

[raisin-shell]

Hey. Just wanted to say I love your blog. I’ll keep it short. What’s your take on the guys mental health?

Here we go nonnie. The good the bad and the ugly…

Leo

OCD- he keeps his things neat and tidy…. A little too tidy. He lives his life in complete order. He’s always on schedule and always on time. He has strict rules he’s set for himself and he abides by them.

PTSD- due to how close he is with his dad, seeing him die (or what would have been death from the first movie) really fucked him up. He suffers from nightmares and insomnia even though his father is still very much alive and this would also explain why he mistrusts others. EMOTIONAL DETACHMENT ABOUND.

NARCISSISTIC TENDENCIES- he thinks very highly of himself. Needs to be adored by his father. NEEDS TO BE. Lacks empathy for others and as we’ve seen in OOTS will lie and never even acknowledge it or even apologize.

Raph

BIPOLAR- he builds up walls to keep others out and to keep from being hurt. He goes from being enthusiastic and gung-ho to being uninterested and reclusive. (Manic-depressive). MOOD SWINGS good lord. He obsesses over things like lifting weights or working out. Also hates to shower.

SEXUAL ADDICTION- in my AU, I write Raph with a sexual addiction. Mainly because he’s got a lot of testosterone pumping through those veins but also because of his manic episodes. A lot of bipolar people also struggle with sexual addiction and I believe Raph with all his rage issues definitely needs a way to cool off steam and sex is his go to.

Donnie

ANXIETY- poor Donnie boy is riddled with it. Having to be the brains of every operation is extremely nerve racking and his coffee consumption does not help.

ADHD- he is a people pleaser, a perfectionist and a jack of all trades. As we see when he is attempting to drive the garbage truck for the first time, he has difficulty focusing and concentrating on the task at hand. However we also see how Donnie can handle himself under extreme amounts of pressure. “It’s all you Donnie… no pressure no pressure.” As we see when he’s locating the beacon on Krang’s ship.

Mikey

ADHD the other side of the spectrum- he’s unable to sit still in calm or quiet surroundings. Constantly fidgeting. Unable to concentrate on tasks as we’ve seen in the plane scene in Brazil. Excessive physical movement. Excessive talking. Unable to wait his turn while talking. He has little to no sense of danger at all, constantly cracking jokes at the most inappropriate of times.

Im sure there’s more that can be added to these so you guys feel free to open a discussion! Special thanks to @rebel-hamato and @turtle-babe83 for helping me out with research! Love you guys to the moon and back!

[roanniee]

Deserve

Word Count: 1.7k

Reader: Gender Neutral

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Tsukishima being protective, angat but also, kinda fluff? happy ending.

I hope you enjoy!

As you watched the Youtube video, you remembered the moment that you finally had the courage to confess.

You never imagined that you’d be standing where you were back then, hands shaking as you held the dark green letter in your hands, addressed to one Hinata Shōyō.

You’d seen him long before you started in Karasuno High. It wasn’t your older brothers that made you choose to go there. It was the determination and drive that Hinata Shōyō showed in the first ever high school tournament that you had attended in support of Kei. 

It was that very same determination and drive that made you fall in love with him in your first year of high school. 

You still remember slipping the letter in Hinata’s shoe locker with shaking hands and walking away before you could convince yourself otherwise and take back the damn piece of paper that took you all night to write. 

As that day went by, you remembered just how long you waited, despite knowing that it was going to be hopeless. No, not with your brother’s antagonistic nature towards Hinata. Oh he hasn’t been as bad, as the arrival of Yachi Hitoka in their lives had mellowed him out a bit, but Kei’s still not entirely good with people either. 

It didn’t help that you didn’t talk much either, and you haven’t talked to Hinata much either, too shy to even face the red-haired male. There’s also the fact that Kei, as antagonistic as he is, is very protective of you, glaring at anyone that talks to you in any sort of romantic way. 

You knew that nothing, absolutely nothing, would come out of that confession. But you still somehow hoped that Hinata would at least glance your way, or acknowledge your confession, but when the school day ended and your red-haired senior never said anything to you nor did your confession ever come up. 

And when their graduation came up, your heart broke. Not long after that, you received the news that the very man you’re in love with is moving to Brazil to be better at volleyball. With a heavy heart, you finally, finally acknowledged that the man of your dreams is so far out of your reach. 

Your attention returned to the present with the cheers form your laptop's speaker and held your pillow tighter as you watched the red hair sway in the Brazilian breeze, his ripped arms were shiny with sweat and slightly rough with the sand that’s sticking to his skin. The Hinata you’re seeing on the screen is a far cry from the boy you’ve fallen in love with in highschool. 

It had been three years since Hinata left for Brazil, but your heart still yearned for the ginger. You still yearned to see that toothy grin aimed at you instead of his teammates at MSBY, the team he joined when he returned to Japan nearly a year ago. 

Your heart still yearned for him. 

“You’re seriously still pining for him?” Kei said as he leaned on your bedroom door frame, your laptop screen in his direct line of sight. He had come for a visit with the family, knowing that Akiteru, his wife and kids, as well as yourself, would be home. 

The Sendai Frogs Middle Blocker crossed his arms in front of his chest as he watched you scroll through videos and decide on watching the MSBY wing spiker’s latest practice game with the Tachibana Red Falcons. He could see in your eyes that you are still hopelessly in love with his old teammate. 

He’s watched you pine in silence for Hinata, always watching the ginger from a distance, always too shy to approach him. 

And now he's watching you silently and painfully support the man your heart had belonged to for years.

With a sigh, Kei held up the three tickets that he had in his pocket. The tickets were for the finals of the Division One Tournaments next week, and  Bokuto had given it to him for free, hoping to surprise his beloved little disciple who hadn’t seen his friends since a week after his return to the homeland. He was hoping to take Yamaguchi, and Hitoka with him to the game, but he knew that it’s about time that you finally see Hinata in person again. 

Luckily, you’re also off school on the day of the tournament. 

He can just ask Bokuto for another one.

“Get ready by 9am next Thursday. Hitoka and I will be coming to pick you up.” He said as he began to walk away when one of your nephews called for him, making you raise your brow. 

“And where are we going, exactly?” 

You can only sigh in frustration when Kei ignored your question entirely, and you can only hope that it would be somewhere quiet and uncrowded. 

*****

But you never expected him to bring you to the stadium and had the MSBY vs Adlers banner at the very front of the entrance. You definitely didn’t expect the guards that saw your tickets to lead you all to the side entrance and towards the team locker rooms. Your heart skipped a beat at the orange hair that flashed in your vision and tackled your older brother to the floor, with Kageyama Tobio in the back, his head shaking at Hinata’s childish glee. 

“Tsukkie! You came! You brought Tadashi and Hitoka too!” Hinata said, and your heart clenched at the grin you desperately hoped aimed at you. 

Yachi laughed and helped her old friend and boyfriend up, poking Hinata on the side and discreetly pointed at you. 

Hinata looked at you and blushed redder than his hair and you looked down, embarrassed. You had grown so much since he last saw you when he left three years ago. Granted, he had… kinda sorta maybe checked stalked your socials every now and then, but he hasn’t talked to you since the last time you brought your older brother’s lunch in the gym sometime in your first year of high school. 

Before you can even open your mouth to say hi, he looked away from you and looked at Kei, his eyes serious yet pleading. 

“When my team wins today’s game… When MSBY stands up on the podium as first place and receives the trophy… When I finally get the damn gold medal around my neck, will it finally be enough?” Hinata said, staring at Tsukishima. “Will I finally be good enough, Tsukishima Kei?” 

You had no idea what they were talking about and still, your heart skipped a beat. Kei looked at you, then back at his old friend, before sighing.

“Show me that damn golden medal, and you’ll have that damn permission you have waited years for.” 

Hinata whooped in joy and ran towards Kageyama with the same determination and drive that made you fall in love in the first place. 

Watching their backs as they walked away, you couldn’t help but wonder exactly just what is in store for you. 

*****

And when the game ended with Hinata’s quick attack that he somehow developed with Miya Atsumu, earning them the last point MSBY needed to win gold. 

The silence and the shock of the gym had been broken by Hinata himself, cheering so loudly that it echoed for a moment until it was covered by the screams and shouts of everyone else in the stadium, some of the loudest cheers being yourself. 

After a moment of rest, the awarding ceremony commenced, each member of MSBY getting a gold medal while Adlers got their silvers. Before anyone else can even comprehend what was going on, Hinata Shōyō ran from the podium, towards his coach on the corner and grabbed something off his hand, and ran away from his celebrating teammates towards the box that you and your brother sat at. He was breathing heavily, face slightly flushed from the sudden sprint he just made. 

He took a deep breath, well aware of the silence that was caused by his actions and the eyes that are on his form, especially yours. He can feel your curious gaze, on that he’d seen you give him since he first saw you beside Tsukishima Akiteru during the Spring Interhighs in his first year. The same gaze that turned into longing as the years passed. 

“In the two years that I’ve been in high school with you, I… I never thought I would catch your attention. I knew exactly how protective Tsukkie was… IS… with you, so I never tried to approach. Despite my own feelings, I couldn’t. I knew I wasn’t enough, not yet.” He shook his head as his hand shook, drawing your attention to the letter he held in his hands, causing you to blush.

Has he held on to your confession letter all these years? 

“And then I got your letter in my locker. God, I was so happy. I wanted to approach you… but Tsukkie got to me first. He caught me reading the letter in practice. He said that I don’t deserve you. And he was right.” 

You glared at your brother and tried to tell Hinata otherwise but the ginger just shook his head. 

“Please, let me continue. He’s right. I didn’t deserve you. Not yet. I was just a country boy, and despite my dreams and aspirations, I had nothing to offer to you. So I worked hard. From the ground up, I worked hard, hoping that you can wait for me until I have something to offer you, until I can be someone deserving of you.” Still with shaking hands, he removed the medal from around his neck and presented it to you. 

“Tsukishima Y/n, I know it may be too late, but will you please accept this medal and I?” 

With tears streaming down your face, you bowed and let Hinata place the medal around your neck before kissing his cheek. 

“Despite what my brother had told you and what you thought, you only ever needed to be yourself for you to deserve me, and offer me your heart in return.” 

And when you finally kissed Hinata, you could barely hear the cheering of the crowd over the sound of your own heartbeat that matched his.

©Roannie 2023 Please do not plagiarise or reblog my works.

[captainnameless]

Charles has had the worst triple header I feel so bad for him :( Disqualified in COTA, booed in Mexico and a DNS in Brazil.

Poor boy just needs a hug and maybe one of Sebastian’s hoodies to wear. I feel like Lewis would get a call from a very distressed, tearful lil baby and be at his drivers room in 3 seconds flat, desperate to help him stop hurting.

Of course no pressure if you don’t feel like writing this. Also your minifics literally make my day <3

baby has just had a stinker of a season really, i saw a post where it explained all 17 races so far and i’m pretty sure Charles has had only 4 “clean” ones where nothing (bad) happened that was out of his control.

also i feel like shit so maybe writing baby charles feeling like shit will lessen my own achy chest.

Charles had dealt with it all so well, the heart break of another failure that wasn’t his, facing media and sports journalist and fans. They’d spoken briefly after Lewis had gotten out of the car, between his own interviews and Charles seemed okay; promised he was. Albeit tired.

When Charles’ name flashes onto his screen Lewis barely takes two seconds to answer, takes even less time to get up and out of his own hotel room when he hears how distressed Charles is.

Lewis sighs as he jogs through the halls of the hotel, trying to figure out where Charles’ room is, a small voice in the back of his mind telling him this is his fault. That he shouldn’t have let Charles leave alone but self reproach isn’t going to help the younger.

He still has Charles pressed to his ear on the phone, but they aren’t speaking, Charles is crying too much to be coherent anyway and Lewis’ heart sort of shatters when the sound of Charles’ cries is accompanied by a visual when he steps into Charles’ room.

“Oh, darling..” Lewis breathes, ending the call and locking the door behind him, kneeling down to join Charles on the floor and pull him into his lap.

Charles just sobs, embodying a wet noodle while Lewis manhandles him into his lap.

“You’re okay,” Lewis tries to soothe, holding Charles close. “You’re alright, breathe with me.”

Charles doesn’t seem interested in breathing, his eyes screwed shut while he hiccoughs into Lewis’ chest, hands clutching at the sweater Lewis is wearing.

Lewis frowns, he’s never seen Charles this upset and it’s a little unnerving. That same voice telling him he’s not good enough to be taking care of this. Lewis pushes it away.

“Charles, poppet.. Hey.” Lewis tries again, squeezing Charles tight and pressing their faces close together. “I’m right here, you’re safe, you’re okay. Breathe.”

Charles does lean into the touch, the grip of Lewis’ sweater loosening with every gasp-y breath he takes with Lewis, body slowly relaxing against Lewis’ chest, shaking stopping.

“Daddy!” Charles cries once he catches his breath, more tears leaking from his eyes.

“Shh.” Lewis soothes, brushing Charles’ tears away. “We’re gonna call Daddy in a second okay, see if he’s awake. Gotta calm down a little more for me okay?” Lewis hopes Sebastian is still awake, their time zone only 4 hours behind so he’s liking their odds.

There’s a soft whine that leaves Charles but no real protest as he stuffs two fingers into his mouth, trying to lessen his tears.

“Good boy,” Lewis whispers, still softly brushing the tears off of Charles’ cheeks and pressing soft kisses to his forehead until the tears have stopped leaking from his eyes.

Charles flushes under the praise, noticeable even with how red he already is from crying and buries his face into Lewis’ chest. “Daddy?” He asks again, this time muffled.

Lewis shifts to get his phone out, pressing the favorites tab before tapping Sebastian’s name. It goes to voicemail the first time and Lewis panics only a little but Sebastian answers on the second call.

Sebastian doesn’t even speak before his face contorts with hurt as their picture fills the screen, eyeing up a distraught Charles.

“Charlie, no, what’s wrong?” Sebastian asks, Lewis can tell he’s leaving whatever room he’s in, moving somewhere more quiet.

“Daddy.” Charles just says, voice miserable and mumbled around his fingers, still pressed against Lewis’ chest.

“Daddy’s here, on the phone. I’m sorry I can’t be with you, sweetheart.” Sebastian looks miserable saying, probably wishing for a teleportation device. “But you’ve got Uncle Lew, huh?”

Charles nods and Lewis holds Charles a little closer, pressing another kiss to his head. “I’m so glad you called.”

“You called?” Sebastian asks, full of praise. “Good job!”

They both know Charles has struggled asking for help with Sebastian off the grid, so Sebastian makes sure to praise him for it every time.

They sit and talk for a bit, up until Charles’ eyes start drooping, exhausted from the emotions and the tears.

“Bedtime,” Sebastian declares through the phone, and there’s an immediate pout on Charles’ lips. “Did you have a shower yet?”

A small smile plays on Lewis’ features, amused at the pout. He knows Charles hasn’t showered yet, still in his track clothes.

“Not yet,” the younger answers.

“So shower, then bed. You need the rest, sweetheart. We can call again tomorrow, I promise.” Sebastian says.

“No.” Charles whines, taking the phone out of Lewis’ hands to hold it closer.

“I’ll stay with you, huh?” Lewis adds, knowing he cannot replace Sebastian, but he knows Charles doesn’t not like the substitute.

“Sounds good,” Sebastian answers for him and so Charles nods. They end the call after an almost tearful goodbye that Lewis manages to control, helps Charles into the shower before rummaging through his suitcase to get him something comfortable.

All soft and warm out of the shower Charles basically falls asleep the second Lewis pulls him into his chest, blanket covering them both.

Lewis presses one less kiss to Charles’ damp hair before closing his own eyes.

[magicalrocketships]

🌤 for the ask game, please! (Or any others of your choice, I'd be delighted to hear about whatever you'd like to talk about, tbh)

🌤️Share your favorite piece of dialogue from your WIP.

There's some dialogue in this bit!! Sometimes you just want to be sleeping instead of travelling:

Max is so tired that he sleeps for the entire flight to Brazil. Sleeping on a flight doesn't equal real rest though, and he was still hungover when he got to the airport in the first place, so by the time they arrive in São Paulo at six in the morning local time, he's grumpy and mulish and bad tempered and sulky. 

He does not like mornings at the best of times, and he definitely does not like mornings when they come with his ears popping and being woken up so early it's practically the middle of the night, and he 100% does not like mornings when the timezone he's just come from is very clear about how this is sleeping time and not waking up time. 

Daniel, who clearly knows him too well, shuffles him off the flight and through baggage claim and out through customs to a coffee shop that serves him a Red Bull, a cup of coffee, a glass of water and some kind of bread roll thing that, when Max pulls it apart, is very cheesy. He is doubtful about whether he'll like it but it is not too bad. He eats one and a half of them before letting Daniel finish off the second one.

"Feeling human yet?" 

"Fuck off," Max says, and does not put his head on the table. 

Daniel grins. "You're so charming in the morning. It's cute."

"It is not cute, it is the middle of the night." Max feels murderous. He wants to go to bed and not wake up for hours. His ears hurt. All of their luggage is piled up on a trolley that's jammed in next to their table. He's seen people recognise them and if anyone comes up and asks for an autograph before he's been to bed again he is going to cry like he did when he was little and everything was too much. "Where are we going?"

Daniel does finger guns. "We're being picked up," he says, checking his phone. "In fifteen minutes. Then the nice driver will take us to where we're picking up the helicopter."

Max blinks. "The helicopter."

"The helicopter," Daniel agrees. "If you're good I'll let you sleep in the car."

Max does not stab Daniel in the hand with his fork. Instead, he drinks his Red Bull and pulls his cap down lower and feels a selection of bad, angry thoughts about sleep, and Daniel, and life in general.