#i’m so tired and the race hasn’t even happened

[verstapdan]

eyes literally sparkling

[valkyriexo]

HEART OF HATE | Bang Chan

ᑉ³pairing; bf chan x Reader

ᑉ³genre; Angst, Smut

ᑉ³warnings; SMUT MDNI,Jealousy, dirty talk, swearing, P in V, unprotected sex , fingering,arguments, mentions of hate. manipulative chan. veryyyyy toxic chan. use of 'slut', 'good girl' , hair pulling, gagging, Smut. SMUTTT minors do NOT interact This chan is not a very good person read at your own risk!

ᑉ³Authors Note; Part or kinktober collab with @dandelions-143 Kinktober masterlist

The air crackles with tension as you and Chan face off, hearts racing and voices tight with anger. You can’t believe this is where your relationship has led, but here you are, standing in the middle of the bedroom, emotions on a razor’s edge.

"Why didn’t you tell me you were hanging out with her?" you snap, your voice shaking with rage. The words taste bitter on your tongue, every syllable laced with the resentment that’s been building for weeks. "I had to hear it from someone else—again. "

Chan’s face tightens, but you don't let up, the fury burning through you too strong to stop. "I trusted you. I trusted you, and you’re sneaking around with her of all people? I can’t even trust what you’re doing when I’m not around! How many times are you going to sneak around with her behind my back?"

“You’re blowing this out of proportion—”

"No, I’m not," you cut him off, stepping closer, your voice growing louder. "I’m not stupid, Chan. This isn’t the first time! You’ve been sneaking around with her, and you expect me to believe it’s just innocent?”

His eyes narrow, jaw tightening defensively. “Because she's just a friend. Why can’t you get that through your head?"

“A friend?” you scoff bitterly, your laugh sharp and cold. “If she’s just a friend, why hide it? Why let me find out from someone else, like I’m the outsider in my own relationship?” Your voice wavers, caught between the anger and the hurt threatening to choke you. "Do you even hear yourself? How am I supposed to believe anything you say?"

"I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d react like this!” He replies bitterly.

Your heart pounds as disbelief courses through you, the fury bubbling up again. "You’re hanging out with her behind my back, keeping it a secret, and you think I’m overreacting?"

The hurt laces through your words, but the anger is stronger. "If it’s so innocent, why lie? Why not just tell me? Do you think I wouldn’t notice? That I wouldn’t care that you’re sneaking off with her when you know I don’t trust her?"

Chan’s expression hardens. “She’s just my friend. You’re reading into this way too much.”

"Then why are you keeping it from me?" you fire back, eyes narrowing. "Friends don’t have to sneak around, Chan. You’re hiding it because you know it’s wrong. You knew how I’d feel, and you did it anyway."

Your voice cracks, the betrayal cutting deep. "What am I supposed to think? That you just happened to forget to mention her every time you sneak off to see her?"

The room is thick with silence as you stare him down, the weight of everything he hasn’t said, everything he’s been hiding, hanging heavy between you. Chan’s eyes flicker with guilt, but his jaw tightens, and his hands ball into fists at his sides. “It’s not like that—” he starts, but you cut him off, your voice raw and trembling.

“Not like what?!” you snap, your heart pounding so hard it’s all you can hear. “You always have some excuse, don’t you? ‘It’s not like that.’ ‘You’re overreacting.’ But I’m done with your lies!”

“I’m tired of being the last one to know,” you continue, voice rising. “Do you even care about how this feels? Do you even care about us?”

He takes a step back, running a hand through his hair, but it only fuels your fury.

He scoffs, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Wow, look at you, making yourself the victim. It’s pathetic.”

The word stings, sharp and biting, like a slap across the face. Your chest tightens as you glare at him, trying to swallow the hurt, but it only fuels the fire burning inside you.

"Pathetic? Are you kidding me?" You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to keep some semblance of composure, but your voice shakes with the effort. "This isn’t about playing the victim, Chan. You keep dismissing my feelings like they’re nothing, like I don’t even matter."

“I can’t just stop hanging out with people because you have issues with them!” Chan snaps, his voice sharp, eyes blazing with frustration. “What, do you want me to check in with you every single time I see someone? I’m not your prisoner!”

Your anger flares, the heat of his words igniting something deeper in you. You can’t believe he’s twisting it like this.

“This isn’t about control or keeping tabs on you! It’s about being respectful of our relationship, of me!”

“You’re so self-absorbed! I can’t believe you’re trying to manipulate me into choosing between you and my friends!” Chan shouts, his voice rising to a near scream, the sharp edge of his anger cutting through the air.

I’m not trying to control you, Chan! I’m trying to communicate! I’m trying to get you to understand how this makes me feel, and you need to stop acting like I’m the problem here!”

His face twists, and when he speaks again, his words are venomous, each syllable laced with contempt. “Maybe if you weren’t so insecure, this wouldn’t even be an issue! It's exhausting, you know that? Always whining about how I should act, how I should feel, what I should do!”

Your heart pounds in your chest, a raw, painful ache spreading through you as his words sink in. "Whining?" you echo, disbelief coloring your tone. "Is that what this is to you? I’m whining because I want to feel respected in our relationship?"

“All i'm saying is that if you can’t handle me having friends, then maybe you’re the one who needs to figure out what you want! I’m not going to tiptoe around your insecurities!” He glares at you, his frustration reaching a boiling point. “You’re impossible! I can’t keep catering to your ridiculous expectations!”

The words hang in the air, and for a split second, you hesitate, the weight of the situation crashing over you. But the anger is too strong, the pain too raw.

“Maybe we should just break up then!” you shout, the words searing through the room, a final, burning accusation. They slip out before you can stop them, and the moment they do, everything falls silent. You don’t even pause to consider the implications, the anger in your chest too all-consuming to hold back.

His expression hardens, but there’s a flicker of pain that flashes across his face, quickly masked by anger. He opens his mouth, then closes it again, the words caught in his throat. The silence feels like a weight pressing down on you both.

"Fuck you! FUCK YOU CHAN. I’m tired of fighting for someone who doesn’t even care about my feelings!" You push forward, fueled by the heat of the moment. “Take all your things and go! I never want to see you again!”

His eyes widen, disbelief etched across his features. “You’re kicking me out of our house? Where am I supposed to go in the middle of the night?”

Your anger flares again, and you shoot back, “Go to her! Since you’re sneaking around with her anyway, I’m sure she’d love to have you!”

The accusation stings, and he glares at you, his voice rising. “This isn’t about her! You’re the one who’s making this a bigger deal than it is!”

“Then what is it about, Chan? You don’t care about me, and you don’t care how this feels! It’s all about you and your precious friends!”

“Stop trying to paint me as the villain,” he scoffs, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “It's not her fault youu dont trust me!"

“I’m the one who’s been honest with you!” you scream, the words spilling out in a desperate rush. “You’re the one sneaking around and lying! I hate this! I hate you! I hate everything about how you treat me, how you act like I’m the problem! I hate you for doing this to us!”

Chan’s eyes widen, and for a moment, he looks taken aback, as if your words have struck him harder than any physical blow could. The heat of your anger hangs in the air, but now there’s something else—fear. Fear that he might lose you for good.

“Wait, stop,” he says, his voice suddenly quieter, almost pleading. “You don’t really mean that, do you? You can’t hate me!”

“GET OUT!” you scream, the words tearing from your throat like a wild animal escaping a cage. The intensity of your emotions threatens to consume you, leaving no room for mercy or second chances. “Get out! Just go!”

But before you can turn away, Chan strides forward, determination etched into his features. He grabs your arms, holding you in place as he looks deep into your eyes, desperation flooding his voice. “Look at me,” he demands, his gaze piercing through the fog of anger and hurt. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want me anymore, and I’ll go.”

The world around you seems to blur, his grip grounding you even as your heart races. You want to scream, to push him away, but something in the intensity of his gaze keeps you rooted in place.

“Chan…” is all you manage to say.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you hate me, and I’ll leave. I'll leave you alone and I won't bother you anymore,” he repeats, his expression a mix of desperation and fear, as if he’s bracing himself for the worst.

You open your mouth, but the words are lodged in your throat, heavy and suffocating. “I-I...."

The truth is, despite everything that’s happened, you don’t truly hate him. You hate what he’s done, how he’s made you feel, but your heart still aches for him.

"I-... Chan please." You beg, hoping he would let up on his grip.

“Please, just tell me,” he pleads, his voice softer now, as if he can sense your struggle. He gets closer, his lips now centimeters away from your ear. You can feel his breath, warm and shaky.

“I...I....I can’t,” you say finally, your voice barely above a whisper, but the words hang heavy between you both.

“Then what do you want?" he says quietly into your ear, his voice growling almost, a mix of desperation and determination. You can feel his warmth radiating against your skin, and he places a soft kiss on your ear, sending shivers down your spine. It’s a gentle gesture, yet it carries an undercurrent of desperation.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs again, his voice low and laced with urgency, lips brushing against your skin. With each word, his kisses trail down to your jaw, lingering there, tempting you to forget the hurt and the betrayal.

You can feel your resolve wavering. His proximity, the warmth of his body, the way he’s looking at you with such intensity makes your heart race for reasons you don’t want to acknowledge.

“Chan… this isn’t fair,” you breathe, trying to push him away, but he’s relentless, his kisses growing more insistent.

“Not fair?” he whispers against your skin, his lips moving closer to your mouth. “What’s not fair is you pushing me away when you know how I feel. You know I need you. I don’t want to lose you.”

You murmur, trying to regain control, but your voice carries no words as his lips hover just above yours, his breath mingling with yours.

Then, with a sudden rush of warmth, he kisses you—softly at first, a gentle brush that ignites the embers of longing within you. It’s a kiss filled with desperation.

The warmth of his mouth against yours sends shivers down your spine, drawing you in even as your mind screams to remember the hurt, the betrayal. His hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer, his touch igniting every nerve ending, making it harder to think.

“Chan…” you whisper against his lips, torn between the passion of the moment and the ache of your heart. But he deepens the kiss, his lips moving against yours with an urgency that steals your breath, coaxing you to surrender.

His tongue finds its way past your lips, his taste filling your mouth, sending sparks of pleasure through your veins. He kisses you with an intensity that leaves no room for doubt.

You should push him away, tell him no, but the heat of his kiss melts away the last remnants of your resistance, and before you know it, you find yourself giving in, your body responding to his touch, your desire matching his. He pulls off his shirt, his eyes still burning as he presses his lips against yours once again.

You can feel the hardness of his body against yours, the heat of his desire, and the promise of more, and sooner or later both your clothes were on the floor.

He pushed you back, your back thuding against the bed.

His kisses trail down to your neck, and you tilt your head back, lost in the sensations. His hands caress your body, sending waves of pleasure through you, as his lips explore every inch of exposed skin.

The ache inside you grows stronger, demanding to be sated, and you give in to it, letting the passion take over.

He pulls back, just for a moment, just long enough to look at you with such raw need that it takes your breath away. Then, he moves forward, his body covering yours, and your eyes close as you savor the feeling of his weight on top of you.

He kisses you again, and this time, there's no holding back. His hands trail down, moving lower, his fingers gently rubbing your clit. You let out a gasp, your body responding with pleasure.

Chan could sense your desire and quickly moved to satisfy it. He gently spread your legs, his fingers sliding into your wet pussy. You let out a soft moan, your body arching towards him as he began to finger you.

"Oh, God," you moaned, his fingers expertly bringing you closer to the edge. You could feel the pleasure building inside you, his touch igniting every nerve ending, taking you higher and higher.

He kept his pace steady, his fingers moving in and out of you, the pleasure intensifying with every move.

"Yes, yes," you moaned, your body quivering, your climax nearing.

With one last thrust of his fingers, you came, your body shuddering with pleasure. Your moans fill the room, your release a release from the pent up emotions, from the pain and the hurt.

Chan barely gave you time to react when he flipped you over on all fours. He pressed his hands on your lower back and pulled your hair closer to him until his lips were right near your ear.

"You're mine, and don't you forget it." he whispers, his breath hot and heavy. You looked at his eyes reflected in the mirror that stood facing the bed.They were filled with lust, darkened with desire, locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

You felt the tip of his cock brush against your entrance, and you bit your lip, anticipation building inside you. But instead of putting it in, he began to tease you, moving it in slow circles around your clit.

"Chan.. please.." you moaned.

"Please, what?" he replied sternly.

"I need you."

"Yeah? Beg for it," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "Beg for my cock, you little slut."

You glare at him. You shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest. “No,” you say defiantly.

He leans closer, his breath hot against your ear. “Beg,” he repeats, his fingers tracing patterns on your thigh. You shiver, hating that your body betrays you like this. You want to push him away, to tell him to fuck off, but you can’t. You’re too caught up in the moment, in the way he’s looking at you, like he wants to devour you. He leans back, his eyes still locked on yours.

“Fine,” he says, his voice dripping with disappointment. “If you won’t beg, then I won’t give you what you want.” You watch as he releases your hair, causing you to fall foward a bit.

"Wait..p-please," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Please, fuck me."

"Sorry, come again?" he says.

You clench your fists, hating that you're begging him, but you're so fucking horny. You need his cock inside you, filling you up, making you scream with pleasure. "Please, Chan, I'm begging you. Please, fuck me."

He shakes his head and grabs you again, resuming your previous position, his cock brushing against your clit again, making you gasp. "No, not yet. You need to beg some more."

You whimper, your body trembling. "Please, Chan, I'll do anything. Just fuck me already."

He chuckles, his fingers tracing your nipples, making them harden. "Anything, huh?"

He continues to tease you, his cock brushing against your clit, his fingers playing with your nipples. You're begging him, pleading with him to fuck you, but he's not listening. He's enjoying this too much, and you hate him for it.

But at the same time, you love it. You love the way he's making you feel, the way he's making your body respond to his touch.

"Please, Chan, I can't take it anymore," you gasp, your body trembling with need. "Please, fuck me."

He finally relents, his cock sliding inside you.

He started thrusting, each stroke hitting you deeper and deeper, the pleasure bordering on pain. You could see your reflection in the mirror, your face contorting in pleasure, slowly getting more...

and more ...

and more utterly fucked out.

You watched as your body arched and quivered, and the sight sent another wave of pleasure through you, intensifying the sensations. He groaned, his hands gripping your hips tighter. "You're fucking mine, understand?"

You couldn't respond, the pleasure overtaking you, rendering you unable to form words. His thrusts became faster, harder, his cock reaching places you didn't even know existed.

You moaned out, shutting your eyes as you were unable to hold back, the pleasure almost too much to bear.

"Look at yourself, baby." he growls, his hand tightening in your hair. When Chan saw no reaction from you, he spoke again.

“Be a good girl and keep eye contact with me.” He said, lifting your chin up so you could meet the dirty image plastered in the mirror once again. You opened your eyes and your reflection looked back at you, cheeks flushed, lips parted, eyes hazy with lust.

You looked debauched, completely at his mercy, and you loved it. Fuck, you tightened even more with that realization.

Chan grunted, picking up the pace, fucking you harder and deeper, your cunt clenching more and more around him.

"You hate me? Are you sure? Your body tells me a different story." He said as his hips slamming into you, and you could feel the pressure building again, the pleasure intensifying.

He grunted, his movements growing erratic, and you knew he was close. "Say it," he growled, his voice laced with desire. "Say you hate me"

"I- I- I ha-ha," you breathed, your body quivering, the pleasure nearing its peak.

"Say it." he commanded, his thrusts hitting you even harder.

"I-I h-hate you," you moaned, the words tumbling from your lips. He began to pound you even harder.

"Again!"

"I- I hate you. Oh, God, I hate you so much," you cried, the words spilling from your lips, your body teetering on the edge of ecstasy.

" Fucking slut. You can't resist me even if you say you hate me. Can't resist my dick inside you, can you?"

Your body shook with pleasure, and then you were coming again, the orgasm tearing through you, your cries filling the room.

And then, just as you thought it was over, his hand grabbed your hair, pulling your head back, and he pushed his cock into your mouth.

You gagged, the sudden intrusion nearly overwhelming, but the pleasure was too much, and soon, you found yourself giving in, the feeling of his cock filling your mouth, the taste of his precum sending shivers of pleasure through you. "Tell me you hate me now, huh"

You moaned, the words muffled by his cock, the pleasure coursing through your veins, the heat and the taste and the feel of him too much to resist.

And then, he was coming, his cock pulsing in your mouth, his cum filling you, the taste of it salty and sweet and everything you needed.

You swallowed, his cum dripping down your chin, the taste of it lingering on your tongue. You felt exhausted, drained, yet somehow satisfied, the pain and the hurt replaced by something else.

And as he pulled out, the last traces of his release spilling onto your lips, you knew that despite everything, despite the betrayal and the lies, there was still something between you, something stronger than the pain and the anger.

"Chan-"

He cut you off with a kiss, his lips crashing against yours, his tongue probing into your mouth. You kissed him back, your body responding to his touch, the pain and the hurt giving way to desire once again.

As your lips moved together, the intensity began to shift. It softened, the anger fading as something deeper, something raw and vulnerable, took its place. When he finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, foreheads resting against each other as the room fell into a quiet, charged silence.

"I’m sorry," you whispered first, the words trembling on your lips. "I didn’t mean what I said. I don’t hate you, Chan… I could never hate you. I was just—" You paused, your voice thick with emotion, your chest aching. "I was so hurt, Chan.."

Chan’s hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that were starting to fall. “No, don’t be sorry,” he murmured, his own voice breaking slightly. “I deserved that. I didn’t tell you about her because… because I didn’t want to deal with what I knew it would do to us. I was selfish.”

Chan sighed, his eyes softening as he looked at you, the weight of his own regret heavy in the air. “I know you didn’t mean it. But I also know I gave you every reason to feel that way. I should’ve been honest. I should’ve trusted you with the truth instead of making you feel like you had to find out on your own.”

You bit your lip, the words still caught in your throat, but you forced them out. "I felt so betrayed, Chan. But it wasn’t just because of her. It was because you didn’t trust me enough to handle the truth."

His face twisted with regret, and he nodded slowly. “You’re right. I didn’t trust you, and I’m so sorry for that. I thought I was protecting you, protecting us, but I only ended up hurting you more.”

You could see the remorse in his eyes, and it broke your heart to know that both of you had let things get this far. You reached up, your hand resting against his cheek as you searched his gaze. “I don’t want to fight like this. I don’t want to hurt each other.”

Chan leaned into your touch, his eyes closing for a moment as he sighed deeply. “Neither do I. I don’t want to lose you because of my mistakes.”

Your heart squeezed in your chest, and you leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his. “I don’t want to lose you either,” you whispered. “But we can’t keep hiding things from each other. If we’re going to move forward… we have to be honest.”

“I know,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I promise, no more secrets. I’ll be better. I’ll be the person you deserve.”

You nodded, the heaviness in the room starting to lift, replaced by something more fragile, but real. “I’ll be better too,” you whispered, your voice full of sincerity. "I shouldn’t have said those things. I didn’t mean them."

Chan’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, his lips brushing gently against your forehead in a silent apology. “I love you,” he whispered against your skin, the words raw and filled with everything he hadn’t been able to say before.

"I love you too," you breathed, your heart full of both pain and hope.

In that moment, you both knew that there was still a lot to work through, but there was also a chance—a chance to heal, to rebuild. And despite everything, you wanted to try.

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[world-of-aus]

The Arrangement - Prologue

Pairing: Mobboss!Bucky x Reader

Chapter Warnings: None.

Authors Note: Any and all writing errors are my own. Am I going to attempt a mobboss, arranged marriage series? Yes. Will I give this series my all? Also yes! I hope yall enjoy this prologue, more to come soon 🤍

Your sister called off the wedding. Come home now.

“Mother please sit down,” you plead, watching her pace the carpet in your fathers office, “you’re going to worry yourself sick, surely she just caught a case of cold feet its going to be alright, she’ll come around you'll see, she’s done this before – she knows how important this union is for both our families.”

Your mother stops in her stride head snapping to you her eyes turned to slits, desperation hidden behind the anger in her eyes. “Your sister went to Winnifred Barnes herself this morning, told her she could no longer marry her son didn’t even give a valid reason as to why, no actual explanation and then what does she do? She up and leaves town, hasn’t answered a single call or text from me or your father even her ex-fiancé cant get a ahold of her. And what’s worse is we didn’t even find out from her, this information came from Winnifred and let me just say – she wasn’t pleased this isn’t just a case of cold feet.”

Trying to be the voice of reason you go to reassure your mother, “this a big event in her life mother, she’s to be handed off in less than a week for a merger that’s been written in the stars for years now between two families ours and the Barnes. You must give her some grace, she’s overwhelmed, she’s probably scared, her life is going to change drastically in less than a weeks a time. She knew – no she knows how important this merger is for both families, she wouldn’t do this she loves him.”

“But she did sweetheart,” your father speaks up a weak and tired smile on his lips, “and as much as you want to come to her aide, there is no defending your sisters actions. We’re even lucky that Winnifred has agreed to give us a chance to right her wrongs.”

“That’s great, we can buy ourselves time! I’ll change her mind, make her come home.”

Your father shakes his head, “we’re out of time sweetheart.”

“No, just give me a chance to talk to her, talk her off the ledge, I’ll even reach out to Winnie.”

Your dads shaking his head again, your mothers pacing stopped as she moves over to you, “there is no more time sweetheart,” your mother murmurs as she takes the seat next to you, her hands reaching for yours, “they no longer see your sister as an option for this marriage.”

You suck in a breath, “but that means –“ your fathers expression is enough to confirm your suspicion.

“You’re to be married to James Barnes in a weeks time.”

You forget how to breath, “No. No. We can – I can.”

“I’m sorry sweetheart.”

Those words are the nail in the coffin, neither your mom or your dad stopping you as you bolt from the room. As you race down the hallway you rip your phone from the confines of your coat getting your sisters contact open.

“Tell me where you are, I can come to you – we can fix this.”

“I can’t do this. I love you all so much, but I just can’t. I’m sorry, please understand.”

“I know you’re scared, but you won’t be alone I promise, please just tell me where you are lets talk about this.”

Free MSG: Unable to send message—message blocking active.

“No. No. No.” You breathe pressing the call icon bringing the phone up to your ear. Your curse when you’re automatically forwarded to her inbox .

“Please don’t do this, they want me to marry him, I cant do that to you, to him, please!”

Free MSG: Unable to send message—message blocking active.

No. No. No.

This couldn’t be happening, this wasn’t part of the plan, this wasn’t part of the plan.

It was supposed to be her, not you.

He wanted her, not you.

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Your Throne

benji blackwood x strong!fem!reader 

Summary: You’ve been married to Benji for the past decade and have been residing in Raventree Hall awaiting your ascension. You and your mother tire of the constant conflict between the Brackens and Blackwoods. These tensions cause unrest between you and Benji and he’s willing to do what he must to make peace in the Riverlands.

Warnings: 18+ swearing, mentions of fighting, political messiness, marital problems - but gets resolved, oral(f), p in v

Authors Note: request from @chainsawsangel, i’m SO sorry i made this super angsty in the beginning also that i didn’t make him super amazing and dreamy at first buut this man on his knees? folded 

Word Count: 3.4k

                                         ᓚᘏᗢ

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Daughter-

I have been sent ravens upon ravens of the ever rising tensions between the Blackwoods and the Brackens. I’m sure the Red Keep could rival Raventree Hall if this keeps up. If the crown must intervene, if I must come to the Riverlands, you will not find it to be a pleasant visit. If you require my help all you have to do is ask. 

I love you. It would make me happy if the five of you visited — after you’ve settled this feud.

-Rhaenyra

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

I push the note away from me and lean back in my chair. I don’t know how she expects me to settle this hatred that’s spread over generations. I don’t want her to have to come out here and I don’t want to put so much pressure on Benji. He hasn’t necessarily told his men to stop the fighting but he doesn’t outright condone it. I know it’s going to have to start with me sitting down and having a serious discussion with him. We’ve both avoided the topic of the ongoing feud that seems to have no end in sight but we can’t do that anymore.

“What does it say?” Benji holds the note between his fingers. “I wish she wouldn’t always write to you in High Valyrian.” he pouts. 

“It’s a language you could learn. A trait that befits a King Consort.” I purse my lips at him. “If this fell into the wrong hands..” I shake my head flaring my nostrils. 

“The wrong hands?” he chuckles. “We’re no longer at war. The realm is in peace.” I push my hands to the table at his words and rise. 

“You could’ve fooled me with all of the fighting that goes on with the Brackens.” I throw my hands into the air. “If we can’t even keep this house in line how can we be seen to keep a realm in line? My mother has threatened to come out and deal with it herself if we can not.” my temper keeps rising and along with my voice as I pace across the empty council chambers. 

“It is not my fault those Bracken beasts act the way they do.” his voice low as he glares at me. 

“What of the Blackwoods? They’re your men, are they not?” I turn to him exasperated. “Do you wish for me to order them around? Order you around? Must I do everything for you Benjicot? I suppose that’s how it’s always been.” I scoff looking him over before walking to the doors to leave the conversation.

“You know I fucking hate-“ the doors slam open effectively cutting him off. 

“Princess,” my guard pants. “There’s been an incident involving Maelor.” my heart races. 

“Where is he? Is he okay?” I sprint down the hall with my guard and he leads me to the maesters. Benji is a step behind me as we enter shutting the door. Our eldest son is having his cheek stitched up and while another maester cleans up his scratched knuckles. “What happened?” I look around the room waiting for an answer. 

“From what I gathered a fight with a Bracken boy.” I fume, turning my head to Maelor who winces. 

“How does the other kid look?” Benji kneels down with a smirk. 

“Benji-“ I’m cut off by his guard bursting it. Gods, what could it possibly be now? 

“My Lord,” he looks around for Benji, who rises from Maelors side. “Lord Bracken is at the front gates. He doesn’t seem very happy.” the guard looks at me and cowers under my glare. 

“I’m going to lose my fucking mind.” I mutter. “Maelor, stay here. We will discuss this later.” I then turn to Benji and roll my eyes at him. “Let’s go.” I grab his arm and pull him out of the room. 

“What are you suggesting we do? Since you are so engaged in politics.” Benji drawls as we start towards the main doors of the Keep. 

“And you are?” I hiss. “You infuriate me.” I huff and push out the doors and make my way across the yard. 

“Likewise, wife.” he grabs my hand and pulls me back to match his relaxed pace as we approach. “I don’t care if you’re angry with me. Don’t show it in front of him.” he says through clenched teeth as we approach the gates. I glare at him and look forward and soften my face. The gates start to open and we’re greeted with a red faced Lord Bracken. 

“Princess,” he gruff’s out, nodding his head. “Our sons have gotten into a fight leaving them both injured. What is to be done about this? My son is being stitched up by our maesters as we speak.” his voice rises and I can feel Benji's temper explode next to me. 

“As is my son. I was hoping we would be able to sit down and discuss what can be done to-“ Lord Bracken cuts me off. 

“What can be done?” Benji steps forward and I raise my hand stopping him. “My son has been scarred. You think a discussion will fix that?” he laughs. 

“Were you there to witness this fight?” I tilt my head. 

“No, my boy-“ 

“You stand before me, heir to the throne,” I squint my eyes at him. “And accuse my son, my heir,” I scoff, shaking my head. “Accuse the heir of hurting your son. Yet you did not witness the act?” I turn to look at Benji in disbelief and he looks at me as if I’m mad. “Is this correct, Lord Bracken? Shall I see if the crown can intervene and help us settle this dispute or shall we try and find common ground alone?” I hum studying him. 

“Princess, I-“ Lord Bracken scrunches his brows and looks at Benji lost. “Do you have nothing to say for your beast of a son?” Benji steps forward again and I halt him once more. 

“I would choose the discussion with her over the crown. My wife is more willing to listen.” Benji looks blankly at his rival. 

“I will not enter your hall alone.” he raises his chin defiantly. 

“I wouldn’t expect you to.” I hum and call my guard over. “Fetch us three chairs please.” he hurries back and sets out the chairs for us and leaves. I take a seat and they follow. 

“What’s done is done. Blood has been spilled on both sides. For generations. For decades. When will enough be enough? I’ve lived here for years now. Raised my children here. I call the Riverlands my home. What can we do to end this feud once and for all? Name your price.” I search his face as he takes in my words. 

“I wish for my second son to be knighted and on the Queen's Guard.” he continues to think. 

“He’s but eight.” Benji raises an eyebrow. 

“When she rules.” he nods his head at me. 

“I want my daughter to be your daughter's Lady in Waiting when you move to Kings Landing. Let her marry a nice, rich Lord, be content.” his wants shock me. I never would’ve thought that we would want for his children.  

“Consider those things done. We can confirm and settle boundary lines. Set up monthly meetings. Allow communication to actually flow between our two houses. I wish to see these lands content and settled.” I nod at Lord Bracken who looks between the both of us. We continue the meeting and push ideas back and forth. A time is settled for us to have our first meeting and everything finally seems to be falling into place. 

                                         ᓚᘏᗢ

I groan in relief as our chamber doors shut behind us. The moon has been high in the sky for some hours now but we’ve been too busy arguing in the council chambers with his men over the upcoming meetings with the Brackens. I tug at the strings on my dress and breathe out deeply as the fabric loosens. Benji grips my arm and spins me around. 

“What?” I glare up at him. 

“You just gave that Bracken pig whatever he asked for.” he looks down at me with dark eyes. 

“He didn’t ask for much. You’re acting as if I gave him my hand.” I roll my eyes at him and try to push him out of my way. 

“And if he asked for your hand?” I can’t help the half laugh that tumbles from my lips. 

“Gods, I might’ve said yes. At least he came over here to try and settle something. Actually being a man-“ 

“Choose your next words carefully.” his eyes darken as his grip tightens. 

“This feud needs to end or this marriage does. I am to rule Benjicot.” I rip my arm out of his grip. “For the past decade you’ve allowed this fight to wage and now it’s weighing me down.” I shake my head at a loss. 

“This marriage is weighing you down?” he looks at me wounded, nodding his head. 

“No, this continuous battle with the Brackens. I’m tired of it. I’m done raising my kids in this environment. Our son is permanently scarred. Our daughter is scared to go out past the gates to pick flowers.” my emotions rise and I feel tears of anger prick at my eyes. “Fucking flowers, Benji. My sweet girl can’t even pick flowers. If this feud doesn’t end by the end of the month I’m taking the kids and moving back to Kings Landing. Alone.” I feel the tears slip down my cheeks and I storm into the bathing chambers slamming the door. 

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

The meetings over the past fortnight have been long and exhausting. We’ve been meeting almost everyday to discuss potential ways to keep the peace between the two houses. Listening to this table of men bark at each other has been driving me fucking mad. Benji has been tense and when he’s not yelling in the council chambers he’s beating his sword into a straw dummy in the training yard. 

Lord Bracken has been bringing his children along to the meetings and they have been able to get to know our children. They get along so handsomely it makes me sad they weren’t able to interact before this. Our daughters even take their guards out past the gates to go flower picking and it makes my heart melt when they show me flowers pouring out of their dress pockets. 

I’ve sent ravens to my mother and we’ve been in contact as much as possible. She thanked me profusely for getting tensions under control and told me to take my time but to please visit when we can. She still offers me her support and to come and show her strength if needed. I assure her it’s under control and things are truly beginning to settle. I send off one last raven to her and tell her we’re hosting our last meeting before our peace officially begins on the morrow. I sigh with a smile and begin to make my way back to our chambers. I push open the doors and stop in my tracks. I shut the door and look at Benji once more. 

“I don’t want you to leave me.” Benji is on his knees in the center of our chambers. “I’ll do anything, my Queen.” he keeps his focus on the floor as I come to stand in front of him. 

“Look at me, Benji.” I hum and his head snaps up to me. I cup his cheek and he leans into me. 

“Please don’t leave me.” he looks up to me and I’ve never seen him act this way. “We have our last meeting tomorrow. Everything’s done. We’ve made peace. Please stay with me.” he grabs my hand and places quick kisses on it. 

“I’ll never leave you.” I brush his hair back with my other hand. He pulls me closer and hugs my legs as I continue to brush back his hair. 

“I need to have you. It’s been so long.” he mumbles into my skirts and my body warms at his words. “Please,” he whines, pushing up my skirt. I gasp as his head disappears beneath my dress and I feel his lips on my thighs. 

“Benji,” I pant, not having anything to steady myself on. He pulls my small clothes down and taps my ankles when he wants me to step out of them. I cry out when his tongue slides through my center. His hands grip my waist as he practically sits me on his mouth and I moan loudly as he starts to lap against me. “Yes, Benji,” I gasp, gripping my skirts. My legs tremble and his hands move down to them to help steady me. I rock against his face and he moans, moving his tongue faster. He swirls around my bud that leaves me gasping above him. I cry as my pleasure slams through me and I almost topple over. 

“Come, my Queen.” he comes out from beneath my skirts and takes me to the bed. He strips off both of our clothes before he pulls me up the bed and gets me to place my legs on either side of his face. “Let me be your throne.” he looks up at me desperately pulling me down onto his mouth. 

“Fuck yes, Benji,” I whine grinding against his mouth. His tongue pushes into my core and I whimper above him. He wraps his hands around my hips as he starts to slam his tongue into me. “I’m- Benji,” my stomach tightens as his nose rubs against my bud. I grind harshly against his face and he groans into me as I fall apart against him. I go to move and his fingers dig into me. 

“Not done.” his hair tickles my thighs as he shakes his head. His lips encase my bud and I shutter above him. My fingers dig into his hair and grind his face up into my wetness. He moans into me and I almost come undone at the vibrations. As his tongue moves quicker my pleasure washes through me and I go taught above him. His tongue lashes against me and I shake in his arms before he starts to help me settle onto the bed. 

“I’m sorry.” he hovers above me and I pull him down into a kiss. I cling against him as he slowly grinds into me. He slides into me and I wrap my arms and legs around him. 

“I’m sorry I was mean and threatened to leave.” I bury my fingers in his hair.  

“I should’ve been better. I will be better.” he murmurs. into my neck. “Please don’t leave me.” his voice cracks. 

“I can’t leave you Benji. I love you too much.” his hips snap into mine at my words. Our lips find each other again and we press closer together. All it takes is a couple hushed words of love and adoration and we’re both coming undone and holding each other. 

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

Visiting Kings Landing 

As our carriage pulls in through the Keep gates I smile watching our kids press their faces against the windows. Benji smiles at me from across the small space and I look at him in relief as it finally comes to a stop. My mother and siblings are waiting for us as we start to make our way out. My children run up to my mother and she scoops the two youngest up while my eldest holds onto my brother. We start to shuffle into the Keep and my mother allows us to settle into our chambers before we have supper. 

Our children run off with their cousins while we start to unpack in my old chambers. I look around the freshly cleaned solar and it’s as if nothing has changed. Benji brings our bags to the couch and begins to help me hang up gowns and put the rest of the clothes away. I poke my head out and ask my guard to have some tea brought up for us. In moments a servant is walking through my doors and preparing us tea. She whisks another in to light the hearth and they turn to us and ask if we should need anything else. When they leave my mother enters and she ushers us over to the chairs. 

“I wanted to thank you both, profusely, for getting the feud under control. I know that it was generational but it has been time for it to end for some time now. When you rule I want for your son to inherit peace as well. You know as well as I what it’s like to take over and be at war.” she looks at both of us with a soft smile. 

“I know, mother. We’ve been meaning to deal with it. I’m sorry.” I fold my hands and look at her. 

“I know, I know. I just won’t live forever, sweet girl-“

“I hate when you speak like this. You’re still so young. You’ll rule for much longer.” I scrunch my brows and shake my head. 

“We never know what the Gods have planned for us.” she hums looking at us. “I will let you both relax.” she gets up and lets herself out of my chambers. I slump further back into the chair and let my eyes shut. Everything is finally settling down and falling into place. Not that it hasn’t throughout the years but ending this feud was the last thing I needed to do to really set us and our children up. I turn my head to the side and peek open an eye to look at Benji. 

“How are you, my beautiful wife?” he hums brushing my hair back. 

“Tired, happy, content, feelings along that line.” I offer him a smile and he leans over and places a soft kiss on my lips. 

“I love you so much. I’ll continue to do better for you. I’ll be the King Consort you need me to be.” he hums. 

“You’ve been amazing over the past moon. You’ve done so well in meetings. Your ideas and council are sound. You’ve really pulled yourself together.” I nod at him. 

“It was either that or you were leaving me.” he frowns. 

“I’m sorry for saying that.” my words hushed. 

“I’m not. You got me to finally pull my head out of my ass. To be the man you need me to be.” his words are laced with heavy promises and emotions. 

“I love you and I think-“ 

“Father, father,” our children burst into the chambers and I thank the Gods we were just talking. Benji stands up and kneels down to their level. 

“Yes, my little cherubs?” he coos scooping them all into a hug.

“We want you to take us to the gardens. Vaela wants to pick flowers,” Maelor pouts. “But I want to go to the training yard.” he whines. 

“And what of you?” I hum pulling my middle child, Aelon, into my arms and I kneel next to Benji. 

“I want to go to the library.” he mumbles and Maelor scoffs. 

“Of course you do.” he sticks his tongue out at him. 

“Hey hey, we will all get along.” I scrunch my brows. “We have more than enough to do everything and more.” I hum. 

“Your mother is right.” Benji hums looking over to me. “We can each have a turn doing what we would like.” We all rise from the floor and make our way through the Keep. We spend the next couple of hours in the gardens as Vaela picks flowers and hands them to me to make a small bouquet. Our boys run around picking flowers as well and I smile watching Maelor delicately pick flowers and offer them to Vaela before sprinting down the stone path to find more. 

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

masterlist 🔌 

i had zero intentions of making this messy and emo 😔

taglist ✍️

@clarityisnofun @gabriella-aesthetic @callsignwidow @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @1-fuzzy-squirrels @arya-brooke @ashovertheriver @zanygot7straykidsbonk @moonymoo1 @malfoycassimalfoy @april-notthemonth69 @anaviieiraaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @neocockthotology @thereaderwitch @hardkiddonut @faenyra @hiimava11 @daintylittlesunflower @primroseluna @fiction-fanfic-reader @povofjustme @multilover19 @alexxavicry @cedstars @fuckalrighty @mrsmunson-harrington @misspendragonsworld @nz2004

[floralcyanide]

― 𝐛𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞 (𝐟𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲)

request: car sex with carmy you and Carmy come back together, physically and romantically.

↝ pairing: Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Fem!Reader

↝ warnings: smut (mdni!), unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), car sex, semi-public sex, nipple play, mentions of alcohol, drinking, smoking, past relationship, exes to lovers, language

↝ word count: ~2.8k

↝ author's note: I finally got the urge to write and actually put forth the effort to write, and I think this is my best fic in a while lol. I hope ya'll enjoy this, I enjoyed writing it.

based on Be Quiet and Drive (Far Away) by Deftones

masterlist ⋇ divider credit: @cafekitsune

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

“This town don’t feel mine. I’m fast to get away.”

Carmy usually despises parties.

But Claire begged Carmy to join her at her best friend’s party, and of course, he said yes. He’d do anything for Claire, really. Even if it meant he had to deal with people from high school who definitely didn’t remember him, loud music, and rowdy drunkards- it didn’t really matter whether Carmy cared or not. He’d even do something like this for you, even though you also weren’t a major fan of parties. But Carmy tries not to think about you right now. It’s one major reason why he was with Claire to begin with. He couldn’t have you. It’s silly, Carmy thinks, and also kind of fucked, but he was tired of being lonely all the time. 

Carmy stands in the corner, nursing a cup of beer that he’s barely drunk and doesn’t plan on finishing, watching as Claire comforts her best friend on the couch. A few people wave or smile at him, and he returns the favor, but he isn’t really into the gathering like everyone else. If Carmy is honest, he’d rather be at home right now. Claire’s best friend hurriedly gets up to take a phone call- probably from her ex- much to Claire’s dismay. But she doesn’t have a moment to get up to go after her or even sit back down on the couch fully before a random guy approaches her. Carmy furrows his eyebrows, watching the conversation carefully and with close attention. It’s the only interesting thing that has happened at this party so far. 

A few moments pass without anything remotely going on between Claire and the rando. She hasn’t even so much as glanced back at Carmy, who is watching the two of them like a hawk. Claire seems to know who this person is, so she doesn’t shy away. The guy leans in to whisper something in her ear, and she laughs, but he doesn’t pull away from her. In fact, he lingers and presses a kiss to the spot behind her ear. Claire doesn’t seem to be negatively phased by it either, and Carmy feels ice in his bones. So much for trying something with Claire after all these years. Perhaps she knew Carmy's true intentions. But still, he can’t ignore the sting of hurt he feels in his chest. No matter how much he tries to down the disgusting beer in an attempt to numb himself fully, to no avail. He even wanders to the kitchen, where the harder stuff is, pouring something clear and strong into the red solo cup he had, right to the brim. Carmy chugs it with a wince before going outside for a smoke. It seems to have worked a little to calm his racing thoughts. He’s seated on the stoop, fishing out his pack of cigarettes, when a memory of you crosses his mind. A memory of you kissing him behind his ear just like that guy kissed Claire. 

You. Carmy inhales deeply, allowing a ribbon of smoke to escape his lips as he tries to push his hurt and anger aside. He pulls out his phone.

Can you do me a favor?

He stares at the screen, waiting for you to reply to his text. It’s quite late now, but Carmy knows you’ll likely be awake. 

What’s up?

Carmy’s heart picks up at your fast response.

Can you come get me from this address? I’ll explain when you get here.

Carmy can already see the confused look you’re going to give him when you pull up to the house to see a party going on, and him be there. But stranger things have happened. Things like you and Carmy almost working out at one time. 

Sure. See you in a few.

Carmy had left for New York City, ultimately leaving you behind in Chicago. It had hurt him to do that to you, but it was for the best at the time. You took it hard but knew Carmy had to leave the city. So, you moved on. But no other person you had dated or tried dating was like Carmy. You looked for him in every person, every dish, every place you’d go. Whether it was the park or the grocery store, you found yourself subconsciously searching for Carmy there. Until one day, you found him. It wasn’t long after the news broke that Michael had passed. You still frequented The Beef quite often, as you had grown up with the Berzattos throughout school and remained friends with them in adulthood. You walked in and saw Carmy floundering in the back, yelling out orders and looking like the embodiment of stress. He had stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted you in the doorway. You reconnected with a cup of coffee, caught up, and, after a few months of casual texting, are now okay friends. It’s described as okay because, well, you wish it were more. But you have restrained yourself from talking about relationship stuff with Carmy, and he has taken that as you not being interested. Which isn’t true, but he doesn’t know that. He has always thought you were too good for him, anyway.

Carmy is finishing up the cigarette when you pull up. Claire has yet to make an appearance, and Carmy figures she’s busy with that guy. How disappointing. He puts out the cigarette with his foot as he stands up on the stoop, jogging over to your passenger side door. You give him a funny look as Carmy opens the door, just as he had expected you to. He sighs without a word- he’ll explain later.

“Any place in particular you wanna go?” you ask, automatically assuming it’s best not to ask questions right now based on Carmy’s mood.

“I don’t care where, just far.”

You end up driving to the outskirts of the city to some abandoned parking lot, tucked away behind a large building. It’s pretty private and dark despite a few straggling streetlamps.

“Care to explain why you were at a party of all places?” you ask, finally breaking the nearly hour-long silence, looking over at Carmy as you unbuckle your seatbelt and face him fully.

Carmy laughs humorlessly, rubbing the back of his neck, “The girl I’m- the girl I was seeing- her best friend threw it. I agreed to go to, you know, lift spirits. But the girl kinda got with someone else. So, I decided to leave.”

Carmy absolutely was not going to tell you it was Claire that he was with. In response, you nod slowly, swallowing the ball of awkwardness in your throat. Carmy has a girlfriend? And didn’t tell you? Or rather, had a girlfriend and didn’t tell you? You aren’t sure how to feel about that. You shrug it off.

“That sucks, Carm. I’m sorry.”

Carmy waves a dismissive hand, “It’s whatever. I didn’t really like her that much anyway. I was just trying to uh.” he trails off.

“Trying to what?” you ask, encouraging Carmy to continue.

Carmy fumbles his words, unsure of what to say here, but decides to just tell you. The worst thing you could do is laugh at him, and Carmy knew you wouldn’t do that.

“I was trying to get over you. I’m still not over you.”

You freeze, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well, I figured you’re over me, and why bother with old stuff, you know?” Carmy shrugs.

“Who said I was over you?”

Carmy’s head snaps up so he can look at you for the first time in over an hour, “What?”

“I’m not over you, Carmy. It’s been a while, but I’ve never gotten past what we had.”

“Oh,” Carmy sniffs.

And here he assumed he couldn’t have you this whole time.

“Yeah,” you run your palms over the steering wheel, now looking ahead, “Looks like we just never moved on, huh?”

“I guess not,” the edge of Carmy’s lips curl into a smile as he plays with his tattooed fingers nervously, “What should we do about that?”

You glance over at Carmy before averting your gaze to the streetlamp ahead, “Oh, I don’t know.”

“Hey,” Carmy whispers, leaning over the console, “Look at me.”

You let your hands fall into your lap before looking over at Carmy, your eyes meeting. You notice how close he’s leaning in. You feel yourself burn from your ears to your chest in embarrassment and want. You’re embarrassed because you’re in your car under Carmy’s thick gaze, but you’re heavy with that feeling of desire. You want him so bad it physically hurts.

“I can think of a few things we could do about it.”

You hum, “Like what?”

Carmy looks around briefly before realizing there’s no one around for a while. He unbuckles his seatbelt and climbs into the backseat, “Come back here, and you’ll find out.”

You swallow a laugh at his brazenness but follow him anyway. You clamber onto his lap, your knees on either side of his hips and your hands pressed to his taut, clothed chest. As you look into Carmy’s eyes again, all your nervousness melts away. A grin finds its way onto your face as the laugh you swallowed earlier bubbles up your throat. Suddenly, you can’t stop laughing. You feel like a kid again.

“What’s so funny?” Carmy asks, your contagious laugh making him also chuckle a little.

“Nothing, it’s just,” you look out of the windows, making sure the coast is clear, “I never thought I’d fuck in the back of my car.”

“Who said we were fucking?” Carmy deadpans, and you are sharply taken aback.

Then, Carmy is the one to start laughing this time, and you roll your eyes, smacking him on his chest, “That wasn’t funny.”

Carmy grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him, “Is this too high school for you? Cause we can drive an hour back to my place if you need.”

“No,” you huff, “I don’t care where we are, Carm. I just thought it was an interesting place to have sex, is all. At an uh-” you glance behind you at the nearby dumpster, “At a paper plant, especially.”

“Just shut up and kiss me,” Carmy shakes his head at you, a soft smile on his face.

“Yes, chef,” you chuckle, grabbing both sides of his face and pressing your lips to his gently.

Carmy cradles you with his large hands, his fingers splayed out against your back as he pulls you closer. He moves his attention from your lips to your jaw, where he leaves a trail of kisses along where your neck connects to your ear. In the same spot that you had kissed him all those years before. Carmy smiles against your skin. He travels further down your neck, tugging at the hem of your t-shirt, which you pull off and toss into the front seat behind you. Carmy leaves hot, open-mouthed kisses to your collarbones and chest as his hands wander along your naked sides, gripping the fat of your hips through your sweatpants. You sigh in contentment before moving to remove Carmy’s shirt as well. He peels it off his body and over his head in a swift motion, letting it fall behind you somewhere up front. You admire Carmy’s fit body before leaning forward to capture him in another passionate kiss, your hands fumbling to unfasten his jeans. You lift yourself off his lap for him to shove his pants and underwear down his thighs far enough for his legs to comfortably spread slightly. While hovering over Carmy’s lap, you take the opportunity to pull down your own garments, kicking them off on the floorboards. Carmy discards your bra too, while he’s at it. And now you’re completely naked and vulnerable in the backseat of your car. 

You grasp Carmy’s hard length in your hand, swirling the precum around his tip with your thumb. Carmy reaches a hand underneath you, softly testing how wet you are. He smirks when he finds you’re fairly turned on already just from kissing.

“What can I say? I missed you,” you tease.

“Did you miss my fingers, too?” Carmy asks as he delves one into your entrance.

“Yes,” you breathe out, squeezing Carmy in your hand.

Carmy groans at the feeling of you slowly jerking him as he hooks his finger inside you. He adds another pretty quickly, considering how welcoming your cunt is for him. Carmy maintains eye contact with you. His normally icy blues are now like a dark ocean. You pull Carmy’s fingers out from you, replacing them with the tip of his length. 

“Fuck,” he shudders as you push yourself onto him inch by inch, your cunt all but sucking him in graciously.

With a few rocks of your hips and Carmy’s slow guidance, you manage to seat yourself fully, your thighs now flush against his hips. Carmy traces the outline of your bottom lip with his thumb before letting you take it into his mouth. You suck on it, gathering as much spit as you could muster. Carmy removes it from your mouth and then places it on your clit, where he rubs slow circles as you begin to move your hips. You feel him drag against your walls as you move up nearly off his cock, only to drop yourself back down in a swift motion. You cry out in pleasure, and Carmy groans at the sound, his free hand gripping your hip harshly. You gain a nice pace, bouncing on his length as he meets you in the middle with his thrusts. Carmy speeds up his assault on your clit, his eyes either focusing on yours or your breasts bouncing in his face. He switches it up every few minutes.

“It feels so good to have you back inside me, Carm,” you bite your lip, grasping his shoulders for leverage as you start fucking him even faster.

“Glad to hear it,” Carmy jokes, his voice nearly failing him as your walls clench around him.

He bucks his hips into you a little faster, trying to keep up with you. At this point, your arousal is seeping down your thighs and onto Carmy’s. You hope it doesn’t make its way to our seats, but also, you feel too good to even care. Carmy moves his hand from your hip to grasp your breast, tweaking your already attentive nipple. You hiss at the sensation, rolling your hips in a new pattern, Carmy hitting the perfect spot inside you now. That familiar feeling of warm tightness is forming in your lower belly as your thighs burn from exertion. Carmy feels you growing tighter around him, and he rubs figure eights into your clit, causing you to yelp. You’re now gasping for air as you lose yourself in the feeling of pleasure. Carmy lets go of your breast to hold you down on his lap so he can fuck up into you, your orgasm now teetering on the edge. He hits that spot again, sending you into a wave of bliss. You cum hard around Carmy, the gripping of your cunt crashes him into his own orgasm.

You let out a string of incoherent curses as you ride it out, pleasure rolling throughout your body. You collapse into Carmy’s chest, and he weakly runs his fingers through your hair. You both catch your breath, and you finally pull off of Carmy slowly. Pulling one of the backseats down, you search for a towel or extra hoodie you have in your trunk to clean up with. Finally, an old hoodie of Carmy’s, oddly enough, appears from under the spare tire. You snatch it and wipe up the two of you, and Carmy, of course, has to make a comment about the garment.

“Just be grateful I had it. It can always be washed,” you snort, getting redressed.

The windows are all fogged up now, you realize. So, you climb back into the front seat and turn on the heat. It’s cool outside now, making the inside of the car a little cold now that you’ve come to your senses, and the warmth is welcoming. Carmy gets back into the passenger side after getting his pants pulled back up, taking his shirt from the seat and pulling it over his head. After you both get adjusted and buckled back in, you burst into laughter.

“Some party, huh?” you joke, and Carmy rolls his eyes.

“That dumbass party is the reason we’re here now, so I’d take it as a win.”

“I hate parties.”

“I know you do.”

You both share a longing look before you put the car in gear, “Now, where to?”

[ln4madness]

guys help i have no idea how this tumblr thing works (i used to write on wattpad ok)

NOT PROOF READ (I’m abt to fall asleep)

————————————————————————————

“LANDO NORRIS WINS THE MIAMI GRAND PRIX!!!”

tears streaming down y/n’s face as she hears these words. there’s not a better feeling in the world than knowing your boyfriend has just won his first ever formula 1 race.

Y/n is still in the garage as everyone is out there celebrating Lando’s win. Not wanting to get squished to death in all those team members.

Eventually Y/n does run out of the garage to celebrate with Lando, if he will even spot her in the swarm of people wearing papaya.

Lando spots Y/n and immediately runs over to her. “I WON!!!” He screams as he hugs Y/n and picks her up, spinning around. “YOU WON BABY!!!” “YOU WON” “MY BABY IS A RACE WINNER! IM SO PROUD OF YOU LAN” Lando let’s Y/n down as he cups her face, wiping the tears off her cheeks. “Don’t cry sweetheart, I WON” he laughs. “These are happy tears lan, don’t worry, the happiest.”

He pulls her in a kiss as his hands move to behind her neck and hers tangled up in his curls.

“so so so proud of you love” Y/n says in between kisses. “couldn’t have done it without you my love” Lando says as he pulls away and looks at her.”

“Okay now go, celebrate with your team, they’re waiting, go go go” she says as she motions for Lando to go celebrate with his team once again.

As Y/n goes back to the garage, an interviewer runs up to her.

“Y/n, hey, how are you feeling?” “Omg I feel so so so good, can’t be prouder of Lando” She says with a huge smile on her face, still stained from all the tears. “Yes we are all extremely proud of Lando, his first f1 win, he’s been working and waiting for this for years. Any idea of how you guys are gonna celebrate this?” The interviewer asks, throwing y/n off a little as she hasn’t even thought about what’s gonna happen after this.”

“Oh god, I haven’t even thought about it, I mean we’ll probably go out like we usually do after a good race. Gonna see how Lando feels, he must be tired after this, but yeah we’ll probably go out with the other drivers, get drunk and just have a good time.”

“Sounds fun, alright, see you later Y/n” The interviewer says as y/n goes back to the garage.

————————————————————————————

The ride back to the hotel is filled with screams of excitement and many many “I’m proud of you”s and “I love you”s

“So, how do you wanna celebrate?” Y/n asks as her and Lando enter the hotel room.

“We HAVE to go out and go crazy at the club” Lando says as he plops down on the bed.

“Aren’t you tired?” Y/n says as she lays down beside him. “I am yeah, but never tired enough to go out.” Lando says as he looks at y/n and kisses her.

“Just wanna lay here with you for now.”

————————————————————————————

alright this is the first thing I’ve wrote in YEARS so it’s pretty shit and English isn’t my first language so there’s that. Hope you liked this tho🧡

[kathlare]

electric feel

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Lando Norris celebrates a significant victory at the Singapore Grand Prix, with his win bringing him closer to the championship lead. While the post-race celebrations unfold, Lando connects with Amelie, despite being miles apart, as their bond deepens. The chapter highlights their connection, the excitement of his win, and Lando's determination to make a special surprise happen for her.

Wordcount: 1.8 k

Warnings: fluff, smau

September 22nd, 2024 - Marina Bay, Singapore

The roar of engines filled the air at the Marina Bay Street Circuit as Lando Norris crossed the finish line in first place, securing his third win of the season. The cheers from the McLaren garage echoed through the paddock, blending with the jubilant celebrations from the sea of orange-clad fans. Lando pumped his fists in the air, the victory a monumental one—not just for him but for the championship standings. With this win, he inched closer to Max Verstappen, reigniting hopes for the drivers' championship.

In the McLaren garage, Max Fewtrell and Pietra Pilão leaped from their seats, cheering louder than anyone around them. Max wrapped Pietra in a bear hug, both of them bursting with pride for their best friend. The atmosphere was electric, their excitement mirroring the thousands of fans chanting Lando’s name.

Thousands of miles away, in Columbus, Ohio, Amelie watched the race unfold on her tablet, her heart racing with every turn. The Nationwide Arena was abuzz with activity as her team prepared for the Short n Sweet tour, but Amelie had carved out time to catch the race. Her messages to Max and Pietra had been incessant—play-by-play reactions, endless emojis, and voice notes filled with excitement. When Lando crossed the finish line, she sent a final message.

Amelie: Tell him to call me as soon as he can after the interviews. I don’t care if he’s covered in champagne—I NEED to hear his voice!"

The post-race celebrations began with the podium ceremony, champagne sprays flying as Lando, Max, and Oscar basked in the spotlight. Lando’s smile was unstoppable, his eyes glinting with pride and determination. He was still catching his breath when the post-race interviews began.

The usual questions came first: about tire strategy, overtaking moments, and his approach to the final laps. Lando answered them all with the practiced ease of a seasoned driver, though his gaze occasionally drifted toward the McLaren team celebrating in the background.

Then came the unexpected question.

—Lando, congratulations on the win. It’s your third this season, putting you even closer to Max in the standings. But I have to ask—how’s Amelie doing? Did she get to watch this incredible race?—

Lando’s grin softened, the kind of smile that only came when he thought about her. —She’s good,— he said, his voice warming. —She’s rehearsing for her tour right now, so she’s thousands of miles away. But knowing her, she definitely watched. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was screaming at the screen.—

The reporters chuckled, and one added, —She’s been quite the good luck charm this season, hasn’t she?—

—She’s a lot more than that,— Lando said, a bit shy but undeniably in love. —But yeah, I’m lucky to have her support, even from so far away.—

The celebratory dinner at a nearby restaurant was lively. Max Fewtrell was recounting stories about his and Lando’s antics from their younger days, while Pietra snapped candid photos to capture the evening. But amidst the chatter and laughter, Lando couldn’t stop glancing at his phone.

—Just call her already,— Pietra teased, nudging him with her elbow.

—Yeah, mate,— Max chimed in. —You’ve been smiling at your screen like a lovesick puppy all night.—

Lando rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Slipping away from the table for a moment of quiet, he finally hit the call button.

The screen lit up, revealing Amelie with damp hair and a towel wrapped snugly around her. —Took you long enough,— she teased, a playful smirk tugging at her lips.

Lando raised a brow, his cheeky grin in full force. —Nice outfit. You always dress like this for me?—

—Don’t get used to it,— Amelie shot back, though her cheeks flushed. —Let me grab some clothes. Hold on.—

Lando chuckled as Amelie disappeared from view, the screen shaking slightly as she propped her phone against something. He could hear the faint rustling of fabric and the sound of a drawer opening, followed by her humming softly—a tune he recognized from her album. He leaned against the wall, his smile unwavering.

Max and Pietra peeked around the corner, not so subtly eavesdropping. Pietra had her hand over her mouth, stifling a laugh, while Max mimed Lando’s lovestruck expression dramatically. Lando shot them a glare, but it only made them laugh harder.

Amelie returned, now dressed in an oversized sweatshirt and shorts, her hair still damp but brushed back. —Okay, I’m decent. Now, talk. How does it feel to be the fastest man on the planet?— she teased, settling onto her couch.

Lando leaned closer to the camera, his grin widening. —Feels pretty damn good. Almost as good as hearing your voice.—

Amelie rolled her eyes, but the blush creeping up her neck betrayed her. —Smooth. But seriously, you were incredible today. I was screaming so loud I’m pretty sure the crew thought I was losing it.—

—Told you,— Lando said with a wink. —I could feel you cheering me on, even from here.—

They fell into easy conversation, Amelie asking about the race, the strategies, and the celebrations. Lando, in turn, wanted to know everything about her rehearsals, her setlist, and how she was holding up with the pressure of the tour.

—Exhausted but excited,— she admitted, tucking her legs under her. —The crew’s amazing, and the stage setup looks insane. I just wish you could see it in person.—

Lando’s smile faltered slightly. —I know. I hate that I’ll miss your birthday, too. It’s just... the schedule’s insane right now. But I promise I’ll make it up to you.—

Amelie sighed, her expression softening. —I get it, Lando. Really, I do. We both have crazy lives, and sometimes it sucks. But I’ll survive. Besides, the Mexican Grand Prix isn’t that far off. We’ll see each other then, right?—

—Right,— Lando nodded, though a flicker of guilt passed through his eyes. —Still, I miss you like crazy. Seeing your face on my screen isn’t enough.—

—You’ll manage,— Amelie teased, though her voice was warm. —Now, go back to your friends before they come looking for you. And don’t even think about skipping out on celebrating your win properly.—

Lando laughed. —Fine. But you better get some rest, superstar. You’ve got a big tour ahead.—

As they said their goodbyes, neither of them wanted to hang up, but eventually, the call ended. Lando stared at his screen for a moment, his thoughts racing.

Back at the table, Max and Pietra immediately pounced.

—So? How’s the pop star?— Pietra teased, sipping her drink.

—She’s fine,— Lando replied, but his grin gave him away. —Exhausted, busy, and, well... her usual amazing self.—

Pietra and Max exchanged knowing looks.

—Mate, you look like you’re ready to book a flight and crash her rehearsals,— Max teased, leaning back in his chair.

Lando’s fingers drummed on the table, his mind clearly elsewhere.

—You know, that’s not the worst idea,— he said suddenly, his gaze sharpening.

Pietra nearly choked on her drink. —Wait, you’re serious? Lando, her birthday is in what, a week?—

—Three days,— Lando corrected automatically, his cheeks flushing when they both laughed. —Look, I know I told her I couldn’t make it, but… I hate the idea of not being there. Especially since we’ll only have a few days in Mexico.—

Max raised an eyebrow. —Alright, Casanova, but how are you going to pull this off? You’ve got commitments. And sneaking away isn’t exactly your style.—

—Leave that to me,— Lando said, a spark of determination in his voice. He grabbed his phone, already searching for flights. —I’ll find a way. I just need to be smart about the timing.—

Pietra smiled, leaning her chin on her hand. —You’re really whipped, aren’t you?—

Lando shrugged, unbothered. —Maybe. But she’s worth it.—

As they finished dinner, Lando’s plan began to take shape. Between bites of dessert, he coordinated with his manager and checked schedules, determined to make the surprise happen.

The plan was crazy, and Lando knew it. But as he sat in the restaurant, surrounded by laughter and chatter, his focus was solely on making the impossible possible. For Amelie, it was always worth it.

The countdown to her birthday began, and with every passing hour, his excitement only grew.

Because for her, he'd do anything.

--------------

liked by maxverstappen1, ameliedayman, and others

landonorris: Singapore you were amazing ❤️

View all 849 comments

ameliedayman: FIRST

ameliedayman: You did THAT, babe. So proud of you 🏆🔥 → landonorris: @ameliedayman Had to rep the home team! 🤩

f1fanatic123: Not the post-race towel drip 💀 Lando serving victory AND vibes 🏆🔥

maxfewtrell: Bro, you’re officially insufferable now. But congrats, I guess. 😜 → landonorris: @maxfewtrell Oh, you’re just mad you weren’t there to spray champagne. 🍾😂

f1fanatic123: Not the post-race towel drip 💀 Lando serving victory AND vibes 🏆🔥

mclarenfan4life: THE TROPHY PIC 🏆🔥😭 We’re SO PROUD OF YOU, LANDO!

f1wags101: Amelie in a towel during the FaceTime?? No, but they’re too powerful. 💀

wintheday88: TOWEL NORRIS > Race suit Norris. Don’t @ me. 😌

gracieabrams: A WINNER IN EVERY WAY. 🧡 Congrats, Lando!! → landonorris: @gracieabrams Thanks, Gracie! You’re the best. 🧡

landosarmy: Not to be dramatic, but this is the best day of my life.

f1memelord69: Can’t believe Lando gave us wet hair, trophy, and "FaceTime with bae" content all in one dump 🔥👏

maxverstappen1: First win in Singapore, now you’re stealing my champagne? Nice work, mate 🍾😂 → landonorris: @maxverstappen1 Sharing is caring, champ 😉

louispatridge: Towel king, podium king, AND trophy king... who is stopping you, Lando? 😂 → landonorris: @louispatridge No one, mate. No one. 😎

f1fanvibes: Lando’s podium pic > everything else today. Sorry, not sorry. 🏆🔥

landofanatic2024: Lando flexing the win, but I’m just here for the Amelie content, let’s be real. 😭❤️

papayaqueen69: Lando always gotta sneak in a pic of Amelie even on a race day. Bro’s whipped 😂💀

[pipsipey17]

across my memory.

natasha romanoff x fem!reader

main masterlist

summary: an arranged marriage led you to leaving the woman you love. who knew that you would meet again merely a decade later only under different circumstances once upon a december.

contains: angst and some fluff (if you squint hard enough)

a/n: i recommend listening to once upon a december while reading this cause i sorta based this story on that song :>

You have received an invitation by the neighboring kingdom of Volkov, they were inviting you and your husband to their grand ball in celebration of the king’s birthday. 

As you were checking yourself in the mirror you suddenly heard a knock on the door, “Are you all prepared my dear?” your husband asked. 

“I- um… yes, I’m all ready now.” You replied and stood up swiftly from your seat then grabbed all your belongings before leaving the room. 

Once you opened the door, your husband greeted you with awe and admiration in his eyes. You were wearing a deep red ball gown with beads and pearls surrounding it, there was nothing really special about your ball gown, in fact, you found it stocked away in your closet. “You always look so mesmerizing, my love.” He said and kissed you on the cheek and offered his arm for you to hold. 

Attending grand balls wasn't something you really liked, in fact, you always found them socially tiring but your husband thinks otherwise. He would always be happy to attend these gatherings, because of the chance to socialize with other people which he oh so love whereas you were acting like an obedient wife following him everywhere he goes.   

~~~

You finally arrived at the ball and as usual, you walked beside your husband as he chatted with some of your friends and acquaintances. 

“Artur, it has been a while old friend.” A man suddenly said as he shook your husband’s hand and kissed your gloved hand as a greeting. You realized that it was the king himself, Roman Volkov. 

“It has been indeed, I see you’ve finally married.” Artur gesturing to the woman who is assumingly his wife who has a fan covered across her face, only her eyes seemingly visible to you. 

Emerald eyes. Eyes that you remember all too well. 

It’s her. 

“I’m Natasha, it's a pleasure to meet you Artur.” Natasha spoke and bowed slightly to him.  

“The pleasure is all mine,” your husband said as he kissed Natasha’s gloved hand, “This is my wife, Y/N.” Artur introduced and you bowed to her slightly in greeting. 

“Why don’t you both ladies chat whilst Artur and I chat to catch up on things while having drinks?” Roman said as he planted his arm onto your husband’s shoulder.

“Sounds like a great idea,” Artur suddenly chimed.

A total bad idea.  

“Alright, but don’t drink too much.” You said to him.

“I’ll see you later, love.” Artur said, then kissed you on the cheek before he left with Roman. You could feel Natasha’s eyes on the both of you. 

Natasha removed the fan from her face revealing her full facial features, it’s like she hasn’t even aged. She still looks beautiful as you remembered. “Follow me.” she said before you both walked in silence.

Someone holds me safe and warm

Your mind was racing with questions, it has been merely 12 years since you saw each other and the night you promised her a life with you for eternity. 

Horses prance through a silver storm

Figures dancing gracefully

“Some wine?” Natasha offered as the two of you entered what assumably is their entertainment hall because of the piano on the side of the room and with the bookshelves around.

“No, thank you.” You replied, making Natasha shrug and poured herself some wine.

“I can’t believe you’re married, for how long?” you asked.

Natasha swallowed her wine and replied, “For almost five years now.”

Your heart sank upon hearing those words, but you knew it was bound to happen after what you said to her all those years ago.

“I'll end our marriage in five years time, and I promise that I'll be with you until my last breath.”

Across my memory

“Do you actually love him? Is that why you didn't leave him like you said you would years ago?” Natasha suddenly blurted out.

You were taken aback by her question, “Natasha, I-”

“It’s only a simple yes or no question Y/N.”  

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down before saying, “Yes, I love him.” 

That wasn't enough to convince her. She started to move closer and you kept backing away but eventually your back hit the wall, “Look me in the eyes and say that one more time.”

Far away long ago

You looked into her emerald green eyes, oh how you missed those eyes of hers, eyes that would look at you with much love and admiration, but now, her eyes were filled with something different, rage, anger, and sadness.

Glowing dim as an ember

Your mouth opened but nothing came out making Natasha smirk and say, “I know you’re lying but if you insist.”

You wanted to speak but you knew she wasn't done, “You said to wait for you for five years but I waited for six long painful years before I fully convinced myself that you weren’t coming back. I eventually decided to marry Roman. I told myself that I’ll learn to love him and hopefully forget about you throughout our marriage.

But I couldn’t, I acted like a faithful wife around him but I acted like I was in a brothel when he wasn’t around. I slept with multiple women trying to banish you from my mind but I just couldn’t.”

You were stunned and shocked with what she said but she continued, “You probably have forgotten about me after all these years, seeing that you didn’t come back for me five years after you got married.”

Things my heart used to know

You couldn't stay quiet any longer,  “How could I forget the woman who loved me for who I am, the woman who made me feel like I was safe with her. The woman who made me feel like I was… home.” You replied and you suddenly felt your eyes sting, tears wanting to fall but you stopped yourself from being too vulnerable in front of her. 

“If you truly loved me, you could’ve done what you promised all those years ago!” Natasha said in an almost yelling tone. She saw you flinch at her words and immediately regretted raising her voice at you, “I-I'm sorry.” she said and approached you once again.

Things it yearns to remember

She cupped your cheek and her eyes flickered onto your lips silently asking for consent. You nodded slightly and closed your eyes until finally feeling her lips on yours. It was filled with passion and longing, almost like it was a perfect puzzle.

You missed this, you missed the feeling of kissing her, touching her, you missed everything about her.

“You’re as beautiful as the day I last saw you.” you said which made Natasha smile sadly. 

Your tears started to stream down your cheeks and she was there to wipe them, just like how she would before. 

“Would you still run away with me if I asked you to?” Natasha asked with a slight smirk on her face.

You shook your head slightly, “I can’t.” you whispered.

“You can’t or you won’t?” Natasha retorted.

You held her hand and placed it onto your stomach, “I’m… pregnant.” 

You felt Natasha tense up at the unexpected news but she asked, “Does he know?” and you shook your head, “I haven’t told him yet.”

“We can still run away together, we’ll take care and raise the child like our own.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Natasha,” you let go of her hand and walked to where the wine bottle was, grabbing yourself a glass.  “Artur has been wanting to have a child for years and me leaving him for you is a death sentence, for me and especially you.” You said and immediately drank half of the wine in your glass. “This unborn child is now my priority. That is why as much as I want to leave the place I call hell everyday and take another chance of a new life with you I can’t.”

You took another drink and more tears started to flow down, “It also would be best if this is the last time we’ll see each other.” you said with a choked sob. 

Natasha immediately approached you and made you face her, “No, no, moya lyubov, please,” she begged. If her voice already sounded like she was hurt, her eyes showed more pain. “It’s been more than a decade since we last saw each other Y/N, isn’t this supposed to be a sign from the gods that we’re meant to be with each other?” 

She was right, despite after not seeing each for years on end, fate had decided that the both of you would meet once again once the both of you had lost all hope. 

Only in different and more complicated circumstances now.

Natasha held your hand and said, “Please Y/N, don’t leave me again.” Her eyes were begging for you to leave with her.

A sudden knock on the door made you both stand still. “Y/N? Are you in there with Natasha?” It was your husband. 

“I… uh- yes, we’re in here.” you replied and Artur entered the room. 

“As much as I hate to interrupt your chatting but we best get going, it is almost midnight and I know how much you value your rest.” He said as he wrapped his arm around your waist, “I sure hope you and Natasha had a great chat.” 

“We did.” Natasha dryly replied with a fake smile plastered on her face as he looked at your husband. 

Artur smiled and asked you, “Well, shall we go?” 

“Yes, let’s go.” you replied and Artur started to walk you outside with him. “Actually, there’s something I’d like to ask Natasha… alone.” you said to him.

“Alright my love, I’ll wait for you outside.” Artur then left the room and once you heard him shut the door you immediately rushed towards Natasha and crashed your lips onto hers one last time. 

And a song someone sings

Natasha felt it, and you did too.

It was farewell.

You walked out of the room without saying another word, only holding onto the memory of a forbidden love that two women failed to save despite being given another chance to do so.   

Perhaps in another life or in another universe, you and Natasha lived the lives you wanted together. It just wasn’t this one.

Once upon a December

[webslingingslasher]

your drabble about frat!peter and trouble living together………………his name on the lease………..omg please continue it

peter’s had a nervous look all night. you know him well enough to know that he’s biting something back and wasn’t sure how to share it.

waiting until the right moment, such as when your boyfriend made you both ice cream sundaes to enjoy as a nightcap during a movie; you ask.

‘tell me.’ you don’t think he was in the moment, because he’s unblinking at the screen, and abnormally, not scooping mint chip into his mouth. you poke his arm with the back of your spoon. ‘tell me what’s up.’

watching him relax, he stares down at his ice cream, you take the opportunity to steal a bite. ‘we need to talk.’ the spoon goes lack in your hold, suddenly the bowl in your lap was too cold and his favorite flavor tasted sour.

‘about what?’ peter can hear the venom in your words, solidified when you harshly clatter your bowl on his coffee table. peter knows what you’re about to jump to, and he knows that’s on him for his word choice, but he’s not wrong, it’s an equal conversation that needs to happen.

‘i’ve been thinking a lot about this, trouble. and um,’ peter pauses, he doesn’t sound very confident in proposing the idea.

‘no, go on, peter. tell me.’ your arms are crossed tight over your chest, a weak attempt at protecting your heart. ‘tell me how you buttered me up with ice cream to dump me.’

panic strikes, that’s not what he’s trying to allude to. ‘no, trouble, we’re not breaking up.’ you let out the biggest breath known to man. suddenly, ice cream sounds amazing. it’s slightly melted and it’s even better.

‘okay, i’m ready.’ its dairy soup heaven. peter hasn’t eased up in the slightest. if the world worked opposite, you’d think he was about to tell you he was pregnant.

‘i know we haven’t really talked about this before, or, i guess not seriously. but i just wanted to ask… or put the idea out that instead of resigning your lease you just… move in with me?’

your jaw drops, that was the last thing you expected him to say. peter took your shock as upset, he started racing over his original offer. ‘or not! i could always move into your place, or if you wanted to get a place together we can look around. i mean, i just resigned mine but-‘

‘you want me to move in?’ you grab the forgotten ceramic in peter’s hands and move it on the table, yours follows. ‘yeah. but like i said! if you want- oof.’ unprepared for your sudden attack, peter hits the back of the couch while you perch on top of him.

‘are you sure? i mean, cause being here basically all the time and actually living here are two very different things.’

‘i know that, trouble. why do you think i asked?’ it’s wild to think that the peter you had two years ago is the same man in front of you screaming ‘commitment, commitment, commitment.’

‘wait, wait, wait. so you, peter parker, want me, to come live in this apartment with you. and be around you twenty four-seven?’

peter bounces the words around, ‘yeah. pretty much sums it up.’ you smile down at him, ‘i don’t know, what if you get tired of me?’

peter loves a challenge. you know this.

‘i’d love to see you try.’

[daisynik7]

“How Do I Breathe” by Mario for Eren Yeager - Angst

How Do I Breathe

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x reader (gender-neutral)

Word Count: ~0.9k

cw: angst, mentions of anxiety, depression, and panic attacks, established relationship, hurt/comfort, modern day setting

Summary: Eren makes a big decision to move overseas to Marley for a new job, away from all his friends, his family, and worst of all, you. He realizes the hard way that this might have not been the best decision for him. 

Author’s Notes: Thanks for the request for the y2k karaoke party, anon! This song is sad, perfect for some Eren angst! I dug deep for this, pulling from some personal experience I had with my partner not too long ago. Hope you like it! Likes, reblogs, and/comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading!

Eren stares up the ceiling, lying in the bed of his tiny studio apartment. The faucet drips slowly; he must’ve not shut it off all the way, causing it to leak. Every now and again, police sirens blare past, fading in the distance to whatever routine crime is happening a couple blocks down. By two in the morning, college kids return from their late-night parties, slurring their words loudly in the hallway, slamming their doors shut without any care for their neighbors. It doesn’t matter though; regardless of the surrounding commotion, Eren can’t sleep. 

It takes him one month to realize the vast differences between Marley and Paradis. It’s one thing to read about it in books or magazines, it’s another to experience it personally. Here, everything moves in fast forward, constantly in motion, no time to stop and smell the roses. Sometimes, he doesn’t have time to think, always pressured to make a rash decision. Work is the same; people always on the go, hasty to make deadlines. It’s even worse because it’s dog-eat-dog, no sense of teamwork or community, everyone trying to compete with each other for that raise or promotion. 

Life on Paradis was simple. Small towns, tight knit communities, the type of place where everyone knows everyone and you were never alone. Eren spent nearly his entire childhood glamorizing the world beyond the sea. He stayed in Paradis throughout college and when a job opportunity came to relocate to Marley, he didn’t hesitate to take it. When he made that decision, you were nervous about doing long-distance. “It’s only an hour away by plane, two hours by boat!” he claimed, excited. How could you deny him of this? The dream he had since he was a little kid? So, despite your concerns about it, you agreed to stay together. 

Two months in, you start noticing changes in his demeanor. His voice on the phone becomes more docile. His face during video chats looks tired, dark circles under his eyes, gauntness in his cheeks, as if he hasn’t been sleeping well. No matter how hard you try to pry it out of him, he’ll never admit that he’s starting to feel depressed, desperate to cling onto this dream of his. A dream that has gradually turned into a nightmare. 

Four months in, unable to sleep, mind racing, he grabs his phone, dialing your number, praying that you answer. The air is thick, making it difficult to breath, throat tight and chest heavy. After three rings, you pick up, your voice concerned. “Eren? Are you okay?”

Tears stream down his face, breathing labored, barely able to talk. “No, I’m not,” he manages to say.

You sit up in your bed, fully awake now, giving him your full attention. “Sweetie, breathe, okay? Just breathe for me.”

He sniffles, choking on his spit, trying his best to calm down. His fingertips are tingling now, body cold and rigid, heart racing wildly. He’s convinced he’s about to die, here in this dinky apartment. Alone.

“Eren, breathe with me. Please. Listen to me and do it with me, okay?” You inhale deeply through your nose, exhale slowly out your mouth, loud enough for him to hear. It takes him a bit to collect himself, but when he does, he copies you, pausing only a few times to wipe his face on his blanket. 

“Good job, baby. You’re doing great,” you encourage him, listening to him carefully.                      

It continues like this for several minutes, until his breathing returns to a normal pace. Eventually, he murmurs, “I can’t do it anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t want to be here anymore. Away from family. My friends. You.” He swallows hard, sinking into pillows. “I’m miserable. It’s nothing like what I imagined.”

Your heart sinks, tempted to say whatever you can to bring him back, bring him home. But you don’t. Instead, you say, “Give it more time. You can make friends there.”

He snorts. “The people here don’t want friends. They want allies. People they can use. You know how much I hate that.”

You remain silent, listening to him, unsure what else to say. 

He continues, breathing normally now. “I thought this is what I wanted. To be free, to explore my horizons, all that cliché bullshit. I thought the other side of the sea would bring me joy. But here, I’m so lonely. I miss you so much.” He pauses for a beat, eventually adding, “This place sucks.”

You laugh at his crassness, tears welling in your eyes. “I miss you too, Eren. It’s lonely without you here. It doesn’t feel like home anymore.”

He smiles into the phone, warmth returning to his body, wishing he was with you. Wishing he could hug you and kiss you and cuddle with you until he falls asleep peacefully in your arms. “I’m sorry for being a selfish idiot. I should have never left.”

“You’re not a selfish idiot,” you assure him. “It’s good that you tried it out. And who knows, maybe in another universe, you would have really loved Marley.”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes at the ridiculous idea. “I think in all possible universes, I would still hate Marley.”

You giggle, glad to hear him back to his normal self. 

Six months after his move to Marley, Eren returns home, safe and sound. 

[theblue6ook]

The Young Years PT 2

Summary: This is a prequel to "Shit Interview" in the "Out of My League" series. Read about Bruce and Y/N in their troubled tweens. What about their past makes them work so well together? You'll find out. (Hint: they've both been through major struggles.)

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!reader

a/n: There's some alcoholism, guns, and daddy issues in this. You've been warned. [Eventual slow burn with Bruce]

Daddy Issues [B(14) Y/N(12)]

The cold pricked at her face, and snow seeped into her old rain boots. Her hands gripped the flannel with all her might and pulled. No dice. She tried again and pulled... nothing. Sighing, she turned toward the house and saw her brother's eyes peeking out the front window. No, I can’t leave him out here. This time, she stepped into the garage and grabbed a sled.

“Come on, Dad,” she said as she approached him. “Let’s get you onto the sled just- ugh- Come on, old man, help me help you.” Her father, in his drunken state, pulled himself out of the snow and onto the sled. Slowly, they made their way towards the house. 

She had sweat dripping down her back, but with minimal help from her father, they made it through the front door and onto the rug by the stairs. He passed out immediately.

“Listen, boys,” she sighed and turned to her brothers, “I have to go to the shop, but I wrapped some sandwiches and put them in the fridge for dinner. Eat and sleep, you hear me… and don’t wake up Dad. He’ll probably sleep there until tomorrow.”

“But you just got off your shift at Dorthie’s Flowers,” her brother Eric looked up at her. 

“I know, but Dad needs our help right now, so I have to double up.”

Both of her brothers looked at each other, unsure. Y/N gave them each a hug and stepped past her father and out the door.

She trudged through the snow to her dad's mechanic shop just down the block. After her mom ran out on them, her father was in a tough place, to say the least. So his good friend Ronnie took it upon himself to manage the shop. Ronnie was somewhat of an irresponsible uncle to Y/N. He cared a lot about her father, a lot, so, naturally, he cared about his kids, but when it came to advice, Ronnie wasn’t exactly the best influence.

They slowly worked in silence on a Purple Honda Odyssey. Ronnie was changing the tires as Y/N worked on the oil change. The silence felt good. Y/N needed to get away from everything for a bit. Working on cars did that for her.

“How’s your dad been?” he asked, breaking the silence. “Are you guys still having trouble with the bills?”

She sighed, “If he could come back to work, we’d have double the money, and maybe we wouldn’t have problems with bills.”

“Listen, kid, your dad has been through it, and he’s lucky to have you,” he seemed unsure, rubbing his chin. “You know there are other ways to make money quick.”

“Yeah, right, I’m already working two jobs,” she looked over at him. He looked like he knew something she didn’t. “Like what, Ronnie?”

“Nah. You’re too young for this conversation.”

“Like what,” she repeated. “Do you want us to starve?”

He was silent for a while and then eventually said, “You know, I know you’re good at working on cars, but how are you at driving them?”

“I’m twelve."

“Your dad hasn’t put you behind the wheel even once?” The look she gave him confirmed what he was thinking.

“You know how I always say when you know how cars purr on the inside, you drive them better on the outside.”

“Where is this going? Does this have a point?”

“You ever heard of drag racing?”

-

He claimed he didn’t mean to kill them. Then, why would you pull the trigger? He claims prison has shown him a different light. Well then, I can put you in the ground. 

Bruce sits silently, watching his parents' murderer spew nonsense. He was on the run for a month before he was caught when Bruce was eight. Alfred had hoped that would be the end of it little did he know, Bruce would be the end of it. He was ready to end it officially, and he didn’t care what would happen to him after. Rachel sat next to him, trying to offer support, and Alfred sat on the other side.

I could do it. I could do it right now. I could shoot him. He felt the cold metal against his hipbone, stuffed into the waist of his pants. A gun he had found after cracking his father's safe. In a way, it was poetic he would die at the hand of his father's own weapon. How this asshole got off with a life sentence, plus a possibility of parole, he would never know. Doesn’t matter now though. He sat and waited for a good moment. He sat and waited… and waited… and waited…

The trial was ending in no time, and the gun felt heavier and heavier. He started to sweat; he started to panic. He has to do this. He has to. Alfred noticed his panic and went to pat Bruce’s leg in reassurance, but the motion made the gun slip further down, barely holding onto the top of his pants… when Alfred felt it. Bruce knew he felt it, and there was a sole-sucking silence between them. 

Alfred looked at him, panicked and disappointed from the corner of his eye. He held Bruce’s arm by the bicep hard and started breathing heavily. As people started to filter out of the courtroom, Bruce remained silent, staring forward, and Alfred nodded towards Rachel in a goodbye as he pulled Bruce up and out of the courthouse. He had him by the bicep all the way to the car. 

He shoved Bruce passed multiple reporters and newscasters, and straight into the back of the Rolls Royce. Bruce noticed when he sat down that the weight was gone. Alfred stepped into the front of the tinted car, leaning back into the driver's seat.

“Where did my-”

“Sometimes I think you forget I was a part of the Royal Marines.” Alfred easily slipped the magazine out of the gun. He huffed, “You don’t- You don’t ever touch a gun. Do you understand me? Where did you even get this?”

“That asshole deserves it!”

“WHERE DID YOU GET THIS?”

“IT WAS DAD’S,” he called out.

Alfred sighed, pulling away from the crowd of people, “You really think this is what your father would have wanted? You going to prison for the rest of your life? To kill someone?”

“You wouldn’t understand. You weren’t there-”

“I’ve seen death! It is nothing to think about when you’re fourteen years old. It’s something no one should ever think about.”

“It’s all I think about! Do you think this has been easy for me? They were actually considering offering him parole! It wasn’t an accident. He meant to kill them, and I’ll prove it to you.”

“I think you need a break. I think you need to get away from all of this. Let’s take time off; let’s go somewhere.”

Bruce knew where he needed to go, but he definitely wouldn’t be taking time off.

[toppersjeep]

Chapter 2- I’ll Take Him ( Charles Leclerc X Carlos Sainz X Reader)

Chapter 1| Masterlist | Chapter 3

tags @janeholt3 @gracielukey (comment to be tagged)

____

Your POV

And just like that now Charles was in a relationship again. I don’t know why I cared so much about it. I tried to distract myself with work and Carlos. But nothing was working. All I could do was think about Charles.

“There you are I thought you were hiding” Charles said. “Hey” I said softly. “Why the long face” Charles said. “Nothing” I said reading over some race reports. “It’s something I know you” he said sitting beside me. “Just tired” I said.

“Are you sure is it Carlos” Charles said. “Did he do something to you” Charles added. “We are fine why do you assume he did something” I said getting upset. “No need to get upset I just assumed” Charles said. “Exactly you always assume Charles it’s so annoying” I said.

“Then I’ll stop” Charles said. “What” I said. “I’ll just stop obviously something is wrong” Charles said. “But I’m not gonna talk to you when you’re in this mood” Charles said walking away from me.

I finished up paperwork then went to watch the race. Charles wouldn’t look at me or even talk to me after what had happened.

“So what did you do” Carlos said putting a hand on my shoulder. “Nothing” I said. “Really cause Charles hasn’t spoken to anyone” Carlos said. “It’s really nobody’s business but my own” I said. “Okay then I’ll let you be in your bad mood” Carlos said going to his car.

Later..

I showered and changed. Carlos was still not talking to me. I guess I was being rude but I couldn’t exactly tell him why. How do you tell the man who’s in love with you that you are jealous of Charles girlfriend. That you’d wish you were her.

“I’m sorry” I said looking at Carlos. “For” he said. “Being a jerk I was just stressed and in a bad mood” I said hugging him. “I’m really sorry” I said. “Amour you can talk to me about anything” Carlos said kissing my forehead.

“I know I can” I said. “But what is bothering you” Carlos said. “It’s just something but I’ll get over it” I said. “I’m here for you always” Carlos said. “You know that right I love you” he said kissing me. “I know” I said.

“Good now let’s get some rest we got early flights” Carlos said. “Yeah we should” I said. Carlos had fallen asleep. But I couldn’t sleep knowing Charles was upset with me. So I left the hotel room.

I went to the lobby to grab a bite of food. And then I found Charles sitting at a table by himself. So I sat beside him.

“Can’t sleep either” I said he ignored me. “Alright I’m sorry I was rude” I said. “I just don’t understand why” Charles said. “I’m your best friend you are hiding things from me” he said putting his hand on mine. “I don’t expect you to understand” I said softly.

“You didn’t even try to explain you just yelled” Charles said. “Maybe because some things are better left unsaid Charles” I said. “What’s that supposed to mean” Charles asked. “You tell me why are you here” I said.

“Because I hate fighting with you I do I couldn’t sleep” Charles said. “I don’t like fighting with you either” I said. “But what do you mean by left unsaid” Charles said. “That’s something you gotta figure out” I said. “You are stubborn you know that” Charles said I laughed.

“I know and you love me for it” I said. “Yeah I do” Charles said. “I should go back up before Carlos thinks I’m missing” I said getting up. “Wait” Charles said grabbing my hand. I looked back at him. “What” I said looking at him. “Je t’aime” Charles said. “I don’t speak French remember” I said he got up. He then put a hand on my shoulder.

“It’s like you said some things are better left unsaid right” Charles said walking away from me. “Right” I said softly. “Goodnight” Charles said leaving.

I went back up to my room thinking about what he said. I was wide awake trying to figure it out. But I can’t get it out of my head. Or him the way he looks at me. Those eyes. God those eyes.

But he’s with her. I’m with Carlos. Maybe that’s how things aren’t supposed to be. And if that’s the case then maybe I should just accept it.

…..

We were finally home in Monaco. I was at my apartment. When I heard a knock on my door. I opened it to see Charles.

“What” I said. “You can’t live in Monaco and not know French” Charles said. “It’s worked out for me just fine” I said. “I’m sure it has but” he said holding up a book on French. “Seriously” I said. “Yeah I mean I’m gonna teach you” Charles said.

“And what’s the book for” I said he walked into my apartment. “So you can learn when I’m not available to teach you” Charles said. “Ah” I said he set the book on my counter. “So first of all let’s just start with simple words” Charles said.

“Alright” I said. “Are you willing to learn” Charles said. “Why not” I said sitting on my couch. “Alright now pay attention” Charles said. “No promises” I said he laughed. “Well this first one’s something you need to know” Charles said.

“Well what is it” I said. “So….

[abellmunsonmovie]

Tears and Pancakes

Wordcount: 988 words

Warning: Reader is depressed, Eddie comforts Reader, no mention of Reader's race/gender, use of Y/N, pet names (Sweets, Baby, Sweetheart)

Eddie hasn’t seen you in two weeks, normally you can’t go an hour without seeing each other. Eddie tried to call you several times every week, he thought he had done something, he finally decides to call Steve and Robin to see if they knew anything.

“Hey this is Family Video, I’m Steve how-”, “Steve” Eddie interrupts, “Oh hey man, whats up?”, “Have you seen Y/N, I haven’t seen them in weeks” Eddie says clearly panicked, “Uh, no um…I’m gonna ask Robin maybe she has”, Eddie can hear Steve and Robin talking through the phone, then Steve goes back to Eddie, “Listen man, neither of us have seen Y/N, but I’m sure they’re okay…Have you called Nance?”, Eddie rubs his face in frustration, “No, I-i’ll try her…thanks”. Eddie hangs up the phone and calls Nancy, “Wheeler-”, “Nancy?”, “Eddie? No it’s Mike,” Mike says in a confused tone, “I need to talk to Nancy…I think Y/N might be mad at me”, “Oh um… okay hold on” Mike still has that confused tone, “NANCY”, “WHAT”, Eddie rolls his eyes hearing them yelling at each other. “Hey Eddie?” Nancy says worriedly, “Nancy…have you seen Y/N”, “I haven’t seen them in 2 weeks”, Eddie scoffs “Do you know anyone else I can call, I called Steve and Robin, I called you…If they’re mad at me I wanna give them space”, Nancy tries to reassure Eddie, “Y/N’s not mad at you, they-…”, “They what?” Eddie asks, “Sometimes they go off the radar for a little bit…it happens every now and then and then they come back fine…”, Eddie's eyebrows pinch together, “And why?”, “They never say…maybe you should go over there”, Eddie nods “Thanks Nancy, bye” he hangs up the phone and hurriedly puts on his shoes.

He gets to your place and unlocks the door with a spare key, the TV is on, the kitchen is messy, dishes towering in the sink, he walks to your bedroom, and through a crack in the door, he can see you curled up under the blankets, crying. He opens the door slowly and crouches down to your level, “Baby” he says softly, your head shoots up and your face goes red in embarrassment, he shouldn’t be seeing you like this, no one should. You haven’t showered in days, “Shit…Eddie why- how did you even get in?”, “You left a spare at my place…now come on…tell me whats going on”, your lip trembles, “Please just go” you squeak out, Eddies heart breaks a little more and his eyes start to sting, “Baby…I can help”, you shake your head, “I’m not a fucking kid Eddie”, Eddie holds your hand “No, your love of my fucking life and you need help…Nancy told me you’ve done this before…whats going on baby?”, you start to cry agin and you wrap your arms around Eddie, pulling him towards you, Eddie pulls you close and shushes you, “I got you baby…it’s okay, you’re alright…”, you snap, “I’m so fucking tired if this shit!”, he rubs your back, “You’ll get through it baby…”, “Why can’t I just be okay?! What did I do to feel like this?!” you say pulling away and looking at Eddie, he shakes his head and holds your hands, “You didn’t do anything…you just…you are you okay? And I know, trust me, I know…how fucking tiring it is…but you are not alone in this…you have me, you’ll always have me”, he holds your face in his hands, wiping your tears off his cheeks, “I don’t wanna burden you” you say, Eddie looks in your eyes, “Y/N…you are the best fucking thing thats ever happened to me in my entire god damn life…you could never be a burden”, you feel your eyes tear up more, “I don’t know why I get like this…”, Eddie kisses your cheeks, “It’s okay…just let me help you feel better…”, you smile weakly and nod.

Eddie goes and starts a bubble bath and calls take out, once you get in the bath he knocks on the door, “Baby…can I come in?”, “Yeah”, he walks in, “Here let me wash your hair,” he says softly, you smile, “You sure?” you ask, he nods and kisses your head before starting to massage your hair with the shampoo, “Y’know, you can come to me when you get like this?”, you sigh and nod looking down, “I just don’t wanna bring people down with my shit…especially you…you make it all less shitty…” you smile weakly, Eddie kisses your lips gently, “Well you aren’t gonna bring my down, I’m your fucking boyfriend…I want to help”, you nod and he finishes cleaning you.

After you get out of the bath and get changed into a big t-shirt and shorts, you walk out to Eddie finishing the dishes, “Eddie, you didn’t have to do that” you say smiling, Eddie laughs softly “I wanted to”, you walk behind Eddie and wrap your arms around his waist, resting your head on his back, Eddie finishes the dishes and dries off his hands, he turns around and rubs your back while kissing your head, “How you feeling, sweets?”, you shrug, “Little better…”, he nods and kisses your head, “It’ll get better, baby…”, you hear a knock at the door, it’s the pizza guy.

After you both eat and decide to go to bed, he makes sure you brush your teeth and starts a load of laundry before you both get into bed. Eddie holds your hand while resting the two if your hands on his chest as he rubs your head, “I’m so proud of you…you did really so good today sweetheart” he whispers, you smile softly “Thank you Eddie…for everything”, he smiles and kisses your head, “Get some sleep, sweet baby…what you want me to make in the morning?”, you shake your head, “Eddie…you don’t have to make anything”, “Y/N…what do you want?”, you laugh “Fine…Pancakes”, he kisses your lips, “Pancakes it is”.

Hey guys, sorry I literally haven't wrote an Eddie blurb in like a week, I have been so busy, but I decided to write a blurb where Eddie comforts depressed reader, and as a person who has depression I know how it can be, i'm sure it's different for everyone, so I just wrote from my experience, I hope you guys enjoy. -Bella<3

[tokosparrow]

I NEED MORE MATTHEW PATEL CONTENT IN MY LIFE PLEA

um ummmm Matthew x reader but reader is a huge theatre nerd, and decides to audition for one of Matthew's plays !!!!

a/n: AHHH I LOVE THIS >0< (plus i was in theater from my freshmen to my junior year of high school and still deciding if i should still act my senior year :3!!) and i have no idea if this is considered romantic but it could be read as such if you like!!

you became a bit nervous when deciding to audition, you were never, and i mean NEVER this nervous for an audition before. you’ve don’t this so many times before as far back as maybe early middle school, you watched and acted in many plays and musicals for as long as you remember, they were basically your lives work. you took deep breathes as you practiced many times before since they always seem to help in situations like these, you just need to take a moment to breathe.

“NEXT!!” screamed a familiar voice from the stage ahead of you.

maybe then it hit you of why you were so nervous in the first place, matthew patel. heart racing as you realize that it was you that it was next.

‘oh god…’ you thought as you took steps to enter the stage to face to what felt like a full crowd of people but yet there were only just one person, the person you became a bit desperate to impress with your performance.

“and your name?” asked matthew, having a look on him that he’s been through many of these auditions and was just tired, he even just wanted to go home.

“i’m (Y/N)….(Y/N) (L/N) mr patel sir…” you responded with small voice cracks due to the nervousness you’ve gained.

soon he motioned you to start as he sat back with a bored look still on his face. you let out a deep breath before you started, you just had to remember your blocking and lines you worked so hard to remember to do. as you do so, you felt yourself get in the moment, forgetting how this was so hard to get over with in the first place, you were passionate about theatre and it’s your time to shine to one of canadas theater freaks (as if you aren’t one yourself).

it soon came to a finish for what you put together for your audition, you looked over for some sort of approval from matthew, he seemed much more interested then he was before which surprised you. what surprised you more is that claps he gave you after which were as genuine as they could get coming from the one and only matthew patel.

“thank you for your audition, (Y/N)” he said as he gave a smile which left you a even bigger smile.

“no, thank you for having me here!” you say bowing before walking your way off stage, still as happy as ever, this is just maybe the best moment of your life!

“they’re definitely the one, make sure (Y/N) hasn’t left when i get done with these okay?” he whispered to one of his hipster chicks before continuing with the rest of the auditions of the day.

a couple hours passed, you happened to stay to just play around and eat, maybe you should go home and just wait for a possible callback since you thought it went well, you pretty sure he liked your audition, at least you thought so. something soon caught the corner of your eye, making you look for good measure and sure as hell it’s matthew patel walking your way.

“(Y/N) (L/N), we need to talk about your audition earlier today!” he said in one of the most happiest tones he had.

“i must say, im very impressed, what do you think about having the role in my play?” say whatttttt now :0??

“sure mr patel! i’ll be so honored!” “good :)”

[zedif-y]

“So,” Joel says. “D’you think Tango would talk to me if I broke the bow again?”

Which, obviously, is a joke. Obviously. He’s a blummin’ actor, for goodness sake. He can handle an audience of one.

Even if that audience is Tango. And also– not quite an audience, is it, when you’re just two people having a conversation–

Grian pauses, looking up from where he's been checking Joel’s outfit, one hand tracing a seam. "Joel," He replies, deadpan. "You are not breaking another prop just ‘cuz you're bad at talking to people." 

Joel bristles, oi! “I’m not bad at–!”

"Then talk to him like a normal person!" Grian retorts, rolling his eyes. He focuses his attention back on the costume, "Pretty sure he'll notice and chew you out for it anyway. I'm doing you a favor by telling you this, really." Joel scoffs.

He’s choosing not to reply to that, by the way. It’s a choice.

Joel lets Grian do his thing, double-checking his costume until Joel’s arms grow tired of staying up, pinning stuff into place and calling Cleo over for makeup stuff. Joel lets his mind drift, letting Grian lead him in front of a vanity mirror– Ah, look. His handsome face.

Joel studies his reflection for a moment, turning his head this way and that. And just before Grian leaves–

“…Would he really get mad?”

Grian pauses in the doorway, “Huh?” He frowns for a moment, squinting, then sighs. “Yes, Joel. You’re not that cute.”

“Oi!”

Grian lets the door shut with a click, his cackling muffled as he goes. That little…

Joel huffs, glowering at his reflection.

“Not that cute,” He grumbles. “I’m plenty cute. The cutest.”

Someone knocks on the door. Cleo pokes their head in, “Hey, Joel.”

“Hey,” He hasn’t stopped glaring at his reflection. “Don’t ask about Grian.”

Cleo lets herself in, “Wasn’t going to,” She says simply. “Now stop sulking and let me do your makeup.”

With great effort, (not really) Joel relaxes his face, his features smoothing out.

He looks good, is the thing. No matter what Grian has to say. Joel looks– good. Attractive. Drop-dead gor– whatever. The point is, he’s handsome, and he could woo whoever he wanted. Definitely.

(He thinks of Tango, gold-spun hair catching the stage lights, red eyes dark as wine.)

…Probably.

Joel bites the inside of his cheek. Ugh, he’s gonna be thinking about that all day, won’t he?

Stupid Grian. 

—

(“Cleo,” Joel starts. “Am I hot?”

The brush on his face stops.

“The fuck?”)

—

He breaks the prop again.

In his defense, it was still mostly an accident. Mostly.

"How."

Joel squirms a little under Tango's gaze, hoo boy. 

He holds up the broken prop bow, "Ehh, the uh. The thing is, I keep, like, using too much strength on it?" He grins, straightening his back. "You know, 'cuz I'm so strong and stuff. Happens uh, all the time, you know?” At Tango’s silence, he tacks on, “…It's annoying."

Tango raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. Joel's grin goes lopsided, withering under the look.

"I– uh," He thins his lips, runs his tongue over the front of his teeth. "...Sorry?"

Tango’s tail sways a little behind him, His arms are crossed, just. Looking at him.

Okay, Joel thinks, palms starting to sweat. Maybe Grian was right.

“You realize I’m not even a props guy, right?” Tango asks. Joel swallows. “Official title’s set designer.”

Joel is so fucked.

“I knew that,” Joel manages, still clutching the damn prop. “Just– you helped me fix it last time.”

And the time before that. And, also, the time before that.

…Joel’s sweating up a damn storm over here.

Eventually, Tango sighs.

"C'mere, I've got something for ya."

Joel's eyebrows leap up. He follows Tango as he leads him deeper backstage, past costume racks and other stage tech-y stuff– none of which Joel can make heads or tails of.

His mind races with questions, half of his brain going why is he leading me all the way back here while the other half is really trying not to ogle at Tango’s–

"There it is," Tango says, jolting him out of his thoughts. He scoops up what looks like a small toolkit, holds it out to Joel. "Here, for the next time you manage to break that poor bow again."

Joel opens his mouth, closes it again. He just stands there, dumbfounded and cheeks burning with shame, "I don't know how to–"

"You've seen me do it like five times, haven't you?" Tango asks, teasing. Joel's going to die. "You're a big boy, you can do it."

What'd he just call me, "Right," Joel squeaks, "That's– Right. Yeah."

He reaches out to grab it–

But Tango pulls it back, his grin growing wider.

"Wha–?"

Tango tilts his head, "There are better ways to get my attention, you know."

Joel's heart leaps into his throat.

He’s so fucked–!

It must show on his face, too, because then Tango laughs and it would've been a win if it weren't at him– "I'm serious, man! You didn't have to do all that stuff– You thought I wouldn’t notice?"

Tango shakes his head, gives Joel the toolkit. He closes Joel’s hand around it with his own.

Joel's breath hitches in his throat– Tango’s touch burns but in a good way, like sunlight on skin, like– 

"It's not like you needed help getting my attention, anyway."

If this were a movie, Joel thinks this is where he’d hear a record scratch.

Hold on. Rewind. What?

Tango looks surprised, “Did you really not know?” 

“I–” Joel closes his mouth. He’s trying to form words, honest, Tango’s hand is just so warm– “Would you believe me if I said I knew?”

Tango laughs, (Again! Joel’s mind crows.) “It wouldn’t be your best performance, I’ll tell you that much.”

“Answer’s no, then,” Joel replies, strangled. A pause. “No as in, I didn’t know�� oh gosh, I hope I’m reading this right–”

Tango’s hand falls away, amusement twinkling in his red eyes. Joel tries to remember how to breath.

Tango’s lips pull up into a smile, “You know, you’re way different off-stage.”

Ouch. “Sorry to disappoint,” Joel blurts out, a faint sting in his chest. Tango’s eyes go wide.

“That’s not what I meant!” His tail lashes in panic, “You’re– you’re a completely different person on-stage, you know? Which I get is the point, you’re amazing, just…”

Joel blinks. Is his brain melting out of his ears? It feels like his brain is melting out of his ears.

It echoes in his head, you’re amazing.

A faint red dusts Tango’s cheeks, “…I think I kind of prefer the real deal.”

“Oh,” Joel says, voice faint. Tango’s blush deepens.

“I just made this weird, didn’t I–”

Joel’s brain kicks into gear, finally, “D’you wanna go out some time?” He asks. His hands shake, just a little. “Cuz I think you’re bloody brilliant, Tango, so if you’re gonna be saying stuff like that,” He swallows. “You better at least let me take you out to coffee.”

Tango’s grin is blinding, “Only if you promise to stop breaking props.”

Joel laughs, a giddy rush in his chest.

“I promise.”

(At the back of his mind– Take that, Grian!)

—

Somehow, somewhere, Grian just sneezed.

[moonlight0934]

Rotten Touch

Tim types, keeping his eyes on the computer in front of him. This is one of the many reports that he’s written this week since he decided to put them all off instead of doing them when he first needed them. He’s completely engrossed in what he’s working on, trying to get it done as fast as possible.

Bruce has gotten to the point where he’s not struggling so badly, and he and Dick have started working things out. Bruce hasn’t been as hard on him, but he remembers the stern tone that he took earlier when Gordon told him that proper evidence hasn’t been sent in, or dropped off yet.

His eyes are burning, and he’s barely able to keep them open, but he still has a few more things to do. So he keeps typing. Tim hears someone coming down the stairs, so he turns. Dick is walking into the cave. Tim turns back around, sure that he’s going to just work on something, and leave Tim to work in peace. He still feels himself tense slightly without telling his own body too.

He works just long enough to wish he was alone again, though he’s not sure what Dick is even doing. Then a hand lands on his arm, and he flinches back. He turns, still wincing slightly. Tim and Dick make eye contact, and Dick looks slightly surprised. Probably because he’s used to Tim forcing himself not to flinch, or coil away from him or Bruce.

“What’s up?” Tim asks, too tired to pretend like nothing happened.

“I was just wondering how much longer you were going to be working on that. Bruce isn’t going on patrol tonight, and I thought you might want to come with me. It’s a lot of ground to cover by myself.”

“Yeah, I’ll be done in thirty minutes, and then we can go.”

Dick smiles.

“Yeah, ok. I’ll come back in half an hour.”

Tim turns back to the computer, continuing with his work. He finishes a little faster than he thought he was going to, so he just leans back to wait. Dick takes him on patrol, and they split up to cover the most ground the fastest since neither of them wanted to be out there. It isn’t until they get back to the cave that Dick slaps Tim on the back.

“Good j-”

Tim steadies himself while simultaneously taking a few steps away from Dick.

“Sorry, I was just trying to say that you did a good job.”

Tim nods.

“I’m just tired and off balance.”

He scurries up the stairs before Dick can ask any more questions.

The next time this happens, everyone is there. Jason is sitting on top of a box of spare parts that he definitely should not be sitting on, Damian is standing with his arms folded, and Dick is sitting with Cass and Stephanie to the right. Bruce is finishing up the meeting that he called about a new trafficking ring that’s working out of Gotham, and Tim is standing the closest. He’s staring off into space, not listening anymore since he put together the information packet anyway.

Bruce’s hand lands on his shoulder, and he flinches back hard enough that he almost falls. Suddenly everyone’s eyes are on him. He feels his face burn, and he turns away quickly.

“I’m going to finish my reports. I’ll see you guys later.”

“What did you do to Replacement?” he hears Jason asks as he’s walking away. He doesn’t hear the response, or what anyone else asks.

He races to his room, and throws himself down on his bed. It’s only a few minutes before someone knocks on his door. He doesn’t answer, hoping that whoever is knocking thinks he’s somewhere else. Then they knock again.

“Drake, I know you’re in there.”

Damian, damn it. He’s not going to go away.

“Come in,” he calls, sitting up.

Damian walks in, shifting from foot to foot in the doorway.

“Um… are you alright?”

Tim shrugs, not really sure what’s happening.

“Father told us that he wasn’t going to tell us what’s going on with you. That’s fair, and you don’t have to tell me, but I want to make sure that you’re alright. If you don’t feel comfortable telling me why you did that, and there’s no way for you to explain otherwise, then we can just sit together.”

Tim sighs.

“I’m not sure. I was just taken by surprise.”

“PTSD, it’s strange. However, most of them don’t have that kind of reaction in certain spaces, the ones that are considered safe. Are you saying that isn’t safe, or is there no reason for it? I’m aware that mental health is weird, and can’t really be explained.”

“Come sit with me,” Tim offers.

Damian closes the door, and sits a foot away from Tim, facing him.

“I had a lot of things happen to me when I was younger, and a lot of it happened here. My training was brutal. I’m sure that you know what I mean by that. You’d understand better than most of them.”

Damian hums, though he still looks confused.

“Well, I’m normally good, but I was just startled. That’s why the cave doesn’t feel as safe as it does for everyone else.”

“But… wait, are you saying that Father abused you during your training?”

“Yes, he did on a few occasions.”

“Why did Grayson look guilty then? Wasn’t he not even in town? How did he even know that was happening?”

Tim shrugs.

“I don’t know how much of what Bruce did that Dick knows about. However, we didn’t have the best relationship either back then, and I don’t think Dick ever got over it. He can be really hard on himself, and he saw some of what I had to deal with, but he didn’t want to deal with Bruce. That’s totally fair, and I signed up for it, but that doesn’t mean that Dick didn’t feel selfish after everything was said and done.”

Damian hums, pulling his knees up to his chest.

“So the touch feels invasive, especially when you’re not thinking, or trying to calm your mind. I understand. That used to be what happened when anyone touched me. It would feel like something was crawling under my skin, and that I’d be violated. Like I let someone do something far too trustingly. Sometimes it would make me feel sick, especially when people would act like touching me wasn’t a privilege that I didn’t give to most people. Like it was nothing, and I wanted nothing more than to recoil, and never let them do it again.”

“Yeah, mine isn’t that bad, but I know what you’re talking about. Like touch scares you, and it makes you feel icky.”

Damian nods.

“Exactly.”

Tim leans back.

“I knew that you would get what I was talking about.”

Damian smiles softly at his lap.

“We’re more similar than we like to think.”