#if anyone even cares i’d love some support right now

[kirammanss]

We broke up. she had no choice, her parents are homophobic little shits but i dont know what the fuck happens now. we hardly made it to a week.

I don’t like venting, but she felt like forever and now I don’t know what to do. we’re both torn, and god knows what would have happened if her parents found out we were still talking.

[chahnniesroom]

to have and to hold

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: you don't think there's anything chan can do to make you love him more. chan continues to prove you wrong.

word count: 1.4k

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, lots of fluff!!

a/n: sorry it has been so long since i posted! i have been wanting to write this since that ep of return of superman where chan and felix took care of rowoon, it was so so sweet. also i'm so sorry but i did not edit this at all

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

“Do you think you’d ever want to have kids?” 

Your question breaks through the quiet dialogue of the show that you and Chan are watching. Behind you, you feel Chan freeze before he forces himself to relax and continue fiddling with your fingers.

Chan hesitates for a moment longer before answering.

“I don’t know,” he says, slowly and carefully. “I think that I’d want to eventually, but right now? Being an idol- It would be difficult. I mean, for anyone it’s hard, but especially with this career…”

“Do you like children?” you ask, curious even though you can anticipate his answer.

“Yes.” This time he replies immediately, although his voice is still cautious. He releases your hands from his hold and gently nudges your shoulders so that you twist to look at him. “Y/n- Do- Are you-”

“What?” you stare at him, not sure why he suddenly seems so worried.

“Are you pregnant?” he asks gently. “It’s fine if you are! We can totally work things out and I will 100% support you the whole time-”

“Oh!” You smack yourself in the forehead. “No! Definitely not! I was just thinking.” 

“Ah.” Chan slumps against the back of the couch, this time he’s actually relaxed. “Just thinking or- what brought this on?”

“I’m sorry,” you say hurriedly. “That must have been out of nowhere for you. No, it’s because my older sister’s wedding anniversary is coming up, the first one since she’s had a kid, so I wanted to let her go out without having to worry. I was wondering if you wanted to help me babysit?”

“I see,” Chan says, sounding relieved. “Your sister. Yes, I haven’t met Doyun yet, right? I’d love to help you take care of him.”

—

Your sister is delighted that you’ve offered to take Doyun for an evening and you quickly coordinate with Chan what day would work best. It’s not possible to babysit on your sister’s actual anniversary due to Chan’s schedules, but your availabilities line up on a Friday night the weekend after.

Chan is nervous leading up to it, which you find absolutely adorable. When you look over his shoulder one night, curious what he’s focusing so intently on, you find him scrolling through articles on interacting with babies as well as tips on baby-proofing an apartment.

Before your sister arrives, you work with Chan for a few hours transforming the open area of your apartment, placing pillows and draping blankets over sharp corners and making sure to keep any small objects out of reach. 

When the doorbell rings, Chan panics, popping his head out of the kitchen from where he’s been trying to figure out a way to prevent Doyun from being able to open the cabinets.

“We're not ready!” he says, eyes wide.

“What do you want to do, keep them waiting outside until you finish?” you joke, then pause when it looks like Chan is actually considering it. “Don't worry, I'll go let my sister in and you keep working on that. We'll be watching Doyunnie the whole time, so even if you can't work that out, it's fine.”

Your sister doesn't stay for very long. She hands Doyun off to you and assures both you and Chan that your place looks safe for a baby. After going through everything that is packed in the massive diaper bag that she’s leaving with you, she heads back home to get ready for her dinner.

Doyun has a short attention span and cycles between playing with a stuffed animal, a ball, some plastic fruits and vegetables, and toy trains within the first hour. He is so adorable that you and Chan don't mind how much energy is required to keep him occupied. Luckily he's a fairly easygoing baby and hasn't fussed at all, although it did take a while for him to warm up to the two of you.

He's comfortable now, especially since Chan has started to spin the two of them around, hands firmly gripping Doyun’s torso. Doyun absolutely loves it, shrieking in excitement with his eyes crinkling. Even after a few minutes of the same thing, he never grows bored, just as thrilled everytime that Chan lifts him above his head. Although Doyun isn’t very heavy yet, after 15 minutes there’s sweat visible on Chan’s forehead and he’s starting to get out of breath.

“How about we take a bit of a break? Do you want to read?” Chan sits Doyun down against some pillows and rummages through the bag that your sister packed, finding some of the books that she included.

Chan hands the books over and although Doyun accepts both of them, he throws them aside and instead clumsily reaches up towards Chan, clearly asking to be picked up again. Chan pretends to groan and complain as he lifts Doyun back up.

“Aww,” you coo. “He really likes you.”

“And I really like him,” Chan says, spinning Doyun around. “I just wish I hadn’t gone to the gym earlier today, I didn’t realise what a workout this would be!”

Eventually Doyun grows tired, no longer begging Chan to continue. This time when Chan settles him on the ground, he just looks around curiously before crawling up to Chan and grabbing at his curls.

“He’s so small,” Chan marvels. “Look at his little fingers!”

He reaches out towards Doyun, who immediately wraps his hand around Chan’s index finger and pulls it towards his mouth.

It's comical to see the difference in size between their hands and Chan visibly melts, allowing Doyun to gum at his fingers, quickly covering them in a sheen of saliva.

“Are you hungry Doyunnie?” Chan asks. “It’s almost time for dinner, let’s see what your auntie prepared for us.”

By the time Doyun is set up in a high chair with a bib on, you’ve finished cooking. Dinner for Doyun is simple, consisting of steamed vegetables, tofu, rolled omelette, rice, and a bit of fruit. You’ve also used the same ingredients plus a few additions to make kimchi stew for you and Chan.

Chan is distracted the whole meal, prioritising feeding Doyun and wiping his face clean in between bites over eating his own food. It's a futile effort since Doyun seems more interested in smearing the food around rather than getting it into his mouth.

When you're finished with your food, you switch spots with Chan and coax Doyun into eating the last few bites he has left while Chan scarfs down his own meal. 

After dinner, you carry Doyun into the bathroom and start filling the bathtub with a shallow layer of warm water. He watches with wide eyes as you add bubble bath that changes the colour of the water to a deep blue and creates a thick cover of bubbles. After washing the dishes and wiping down the kitchen, Chan joins the both of you just as you’re rinsing suds out of Doyun’s hair.

Cleaned and dressed in a fuzzy onesie with tiny bear ears poking out from the hood, Doyun struggles to stay awake for the rest of the evening. It’s obvious that he’s tired, he’s starting to get cranky and his blinks get longer and longer, but he stubbornly continues to play. After his third time nodding off while slotting plastic shapes into a cube, Chan picks him up and walks him around the room, rocking him slightly while humming a melody that you can’t recognize.

When your sister comes to pick up Doyun, he's sprawled out on Chan’s chest, deeply asleep. A line of drool drops from his open mouth to form a wet spot on Chan’s shirt, but Chan doesn’t seem to mind, staring at Doyun with stars in his eyes.

That night, right when you're about to fall asleep, Chan speaks up. His arms are wrapped around you and you can feel his breath against the back of your neck. 

“I think,” he says quietly. “I think I want kids. Not now, I still have the same concerns as before, but in the future? I want it.”

“You did so well with Doyunnie, it looked so natural,” you agree. “I think you would be a great dad.”

“Only if you’re there by my side,” he corrects.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

[ssprayberrythings]

our little secret | CL16

charles x female!reader / smau fic 

this was a request so thank you anon for providing the idea, i changed some of the detailing ever slightly to fit it more into the social media format but overall i followed the request so i hope i did it justice! 

as a bit of a background: you and charles have been together for a few years now, but nobody knows because they’ve kept their relationship secret from the f1 community and private from anyone who follows you. everything is going great until photos of you and charles on vacation get leaked. normally you’d deny it or ignore it but it was very obviously charles in the pictures which cause fans to go crazy, wanting to know everything ultimately resulting in you and charles deciding to go public and hoping for the best. oh and the request included having other drivers on the grid having gone through recent breakups which was another reason charles liked that your relationship was private. 

warnings: none, just pure fluff and charles being a simp for his girlfriend !! 

-

yourusername posted on their instagram   

yourbestfriend, yoursister, user23 & others liked 

life recently ⭐️🫶🌸

view all comments 

user1: y/n i still cant believe we haven’t figured out who your partner is, its been atleast a couple years 

user2: at this point, i don’t even care who it is, as long as she’s happy 

yoursister: awe the flowers, he’s the sweetest 

╰ yourusername: i know ! 

user22: one day we’ll find out…i hope 

╰ user17: we can only hope 

yourbestfriend: i love that youre happy but i don’t enjoy third wheeling, does he have any single friends he can atleast bring along 🥲

╰ yourusername: sorry..pretty sure all his close friends are in relationships 🫣

charles_leclerc posted on their instagram 

f1fan, pierregasly, landonorris, fanofleclerc & others liked 

who do i give these flowers too 

view all comments 

fanofleclerc: YOU CAN GIVE THEM TO ME 

f1fan: ILL TAKE THEM OFF YOUR HANDS CHARLES 

user30: how is this man single ???? he’s so boyfriendcoded 

landonorris: i’d prefer literally anything else but i guess you can give them to me 

╰ charles_leclerc: ill pass 

f1: we’ll take them for you charles, im sure someone in the paddock would like them 

-

yourusername posted on their story  

caption: he loves me i swear..😉

*replies disabled*

charles_leclerc posted on their instagram 

pierregasly, landonorris, f1, f1fan, charlesleclercfan_ & others liked 

enjoying the sun whenever i can 

view all comments 

fanofcharles: hes so beautiful wow 

charlesleclercfan_: imagine running into charles leclerc while he’s shirtless? id pass away

pierregasly: photo creds would be nice..

╰ charles_leclerc: you didn’t take the photo ? 

╰ pierregasly: yes but i was behind the camera offering support, its basically the same thing 

f1fan: pierre and charles’ friendship is top tier

╰ liked by f1

-

yourusername posted on their instagram   

yoursister, yourbestfriend, user20 & others liked 

me and everyone’s favourite man hit the town ���

view all comments 

yourbestfriend: its giving old money, i love it 

╰ liked by yourusername 

user20: im sure whoever he is, is a gorgeous man 

user12: i may not know who he is but i aspire for these vibes 

yoursister: the hand placement is everything 

╰ liked by yourusername & yourbestfriend 

user44: whoever he is, he was raised right, that hand placement says everything and him holding y/n’s heels, god has favourites 

-

charles_leclerc posted on instagram 

charlesleclercfan_, f1, f1fan, landonorris & others liked 

hikes at sunset > 

view all comments 

charlesleclercfan_: omg charles 

charlesleclercfan_: i think my heart just stopped 

f1fan: he knows what he’s doing, he has to 

user33: brb finding the strength cause this photo makes me weak 

user2: he looks so happy 

yourusername posted on their instagram   

yourbestfriend, user22, user14, user7 & others liked 

my two favourite people 🫶

tagged: @yourbestfriend 

view all comments 

user2: mystery man once again

user14: the way they go on runs together 

yourbestfriend: the only time i’ll gladly be a third wheel..i love a good walk/run at sunset 

╰ yourusername: i know how much you love your sunset runs 

user12: couples that run together, stay together 

╰ liked by yourusername 

-

yourusername posted on their story  

caption: my whole 🌎 

*replies disabled*

-

yourbestfriend posted on their story

caption: i once again find myself third wheeling..@yourusername

╰ yourusername: atleast you could walk away when you wanted..

╰ yourbestfriend: not the point..but tell charles thank you for paying for me aswell

╰ yourusername: will do 😅

charles_leclerc posted on their story

caption: enjoying some local art before racing starts again  

*replies disabled* 

-

yourusername posted on their instagram  

yoursister, yourbestfriend, user3, user15 & others liked 

gonna miss watching the sunrise in the morning and the sunset in the evening with you 🥺

view all comments 

user3: wait where is he going 

user23: awe, i hope everything’s okay and they haven’t broken up

╰ user4: i think mystery man has to leave, but they’re still together 

yourbestfriend: mom and dad..fr 

╰ liked by yourusername 

user44: wherever mystery man has to go, i hope he comes back soon 

“Merci mon amour” You smiled as he situated himself next to you in bed. Having been dating now for almost 3 years, you had picked up on french terms and were able to have small conversations only speaking French with Charles 

“I posted you on instagram” you told him as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders pulling you closer into him but being careful not to spill the drink in your hands 

“Oh what did you post? My phones charging” he explained as you unlocked your phone and showed him the post you made for him “You’re now being referred to as mystery man” you chuckled. 

Out of all the names people had given him throughout the years, this was definitely your favourite. Charles also chuckled when he heard the name that was given to him 

“Can I ask you something?” Charles asked after a few seconds of comfortable silence passed between the two of you 

“Of course, what’s up?” you asked after taking a small sip of your tea “Do you ever think about going public with our relationship?” He followed up 

You turned to face him fully “Of course, mon amour but we both agreed it was better this way” You reiterated the promise you made early on in your relationship 

“I know but I hate that I cant comment on your posts or even post you myself” he sighed “I want to keep you safe but I also want the whole world to know you’re mine and I’m yours” he finished. 

“I know it’s not fair” you exclaimed while running your fingers through his hair, something you did for him when he was stressed or feeling anxious “I love you all the time though regardless if you post me or not you know that. Right?” You asked him 

“Of course I do” he told you in response closing his eyes feeling relaxed “One day we’ll go public. Im making you that promise” he told you opening his eyes again 

You smiled at him “Sounds like a beautiful promise” you responded, leaning in to kiss his cheek “As much as I would love to spend the rest of the night talking with you, you have to be at the airport early tomorrow” you reminded him as you stopped playing with his hair, to turn and put your mug on the bedside table next to your side of the bed, Charles putting his own mug on the table next to his side 

“Im gonna miss you” he told you when you were both situated in bed, the only source of light coming from the evening sky outside “Not as much as I’m gonna miss you” you told him, snuggling into his side while his arm pulled you closer to him. 

Even if you had been dating for awhile, the start of the race season was always a struggle, neither of you wanting to be apart for long periods of time but it was moments like these that you held close and savoured until the next time you could be this close again. 

-

yourusername posted on their story  

caption: my happy place 🎨

╰ charles_leclerc: babe i miss you already and its only been a few days 

╰ yourusername: i know but soon you’ll be busy with media events, qualifying, racing and the time will go by quicker, i promise my love 

╰ charles_leclerc: facetime tonight so i can see your beautiful face ? 

╰ yourusername: of course ❤️ 

yourusername posted on their story  

caption: now whose third wheeling..😠 @yourbestfriend 

╰ yourbestfriend: oh hush up, this was only one time compared to how many times i third wheeled you and driver boy 

╰ yourusername: okay fair point…also driver boy? wait till i tell charles that one 😂

more replies..

╰ charles_leclerc: omg since when did y/bf/n get a boyfriend? i want all the details 

╰ yourusername: i’ll tell you everything on our facetime call, its a pretty cute story of how they met 

╰ charles_leclerc: okay but not as cute as when we met? right? 

╰ yourusername: oh never, we have the ultimate cutest first meet story 🤭

-

charles_leclerc posted on their instagram  

f1, carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari, landonorris & others liked 

feels good to be back 🏎️ 

tagged: @scuderiaferrari 

view all comments 

scuderiaferrari: looking forward to a great season ! 

╰ liked by charles_leclerc 

f1fan: HE LOOKS SO WELL RESTED AND HAPPY, FERRARI YOU BETTER DO CHARLES JUSTICE THIS SEASON 

f1: as if we weren’t already excited for the new season !!

╰ liked by charles_leclerc 

charlesleclercfan_: IM SO EXCITED 

charlesleclercupdates: THIS IS HIS SEASON, I CAN ALREADY FEEL IT 

Charles was standing with the other drivers, whenever the new season started they always had to do a bunch of media and although some drivers may hate how childish some of the antics were, overall it’s always a nice time getting to be in the same place as everyone and not be competing for once. 

Charles turned to George and Pierre who were in conversation with Carlos and Lando. Somehow they had gotten on the topics of relationships, Lando having told everyone that the girl he was seeing at the end of the previous season before the break, wasn’t in the picture anymore. 

“Aw mate I’m sorry” Charles told him “Its okay, we weren’t anything serious” Lando told him, seeming to be completely fine with the outcome. “Carlos how are you and your lady?” Lando asked Carlos taking the attention off of him 

“Ehh, its alright” Charles’ teammate answered the question directed at him “We barely talk and now with racing starting, I don’t see her sticking around much longer” he explained his current situation. 

To Charles it seemed as though everyone who had been relationships or atleast talking to someone, now had no one which made him a feel a bit guilty as he had been in a 2 year long relationship that none of them knew of. 

Later in the day, the guilt in Charles stomach only grew when he somehow found out 3 more drivers on the grids long term relationships had ended. He was feeling unnerved because it seemed as if there was some sort of relationship ruiner going through the paddock and he didn’t want to be the next victim. 

That night, he called you up, for a moment forgetting about the time change but remembering its only a small change. You answered after a few rings, you had your painting scrubs on indicating you had been working on a new piece of art 

“Hi mon amour” you exclaimed happy to see your boyfriend “I was just in the middle of painting, let me just take my scrubs off so I can move to the couch” You explained, Charles nodded his head acknowledging you

��Okay tell me how everything went today, I want to hear it all” you started talking again once you were situated on your couch. Charles started telling you about his day making sure to include what he learned about his fellow racers, which only caused you both to feel content keeping your relationship to yourselves. 

-

yourusername posted on their instagram 

caption: disconnecting to enjoy the serenity of camping 🏕️

*replies disabled*

-

f1updates posted on their instagram  

charles_leclercfan, f1fan, wagupdates & others liked 

old photos of charles leclerc with an unknown female leaked. reports say this was last year during the summer break, which brings up the questions of who is she? were they dating here? if yes, are they still dating? everyone wants to know. 

*comments disabled* 

charlesleclerc_updates posted on their instagram  

f1fan, f1updates, wagupdates & others liked 

more leaked photos of charles with this mystery woman. who is she? i know im not the only one dying to know 

view all comments

user11: OH MY 

f1fan: CHARLES MY DUDE WHAT IS THIS 

f1updates: does anyone have any idea on who she is 

╰ user15: no clue 

user3: she’s pretty from what ive seen 

user22: i need to know everything 

ferrarifan: what i would give to have been a fly on the wall when charles found out these got leaked 

Charles was resting in his drivers room. He was trying to mediate which meant he had his phone silenced. This was something you started doing with him when he would get in his head about racing and it helped him regain his focus especially during the moments when he was to hard on himself.

He had been in here for probably 30 minutes before there was a rapid knock on the door “Charles, its Carlos can I come in?” his teammate asked from the other side 

“Yeah” Charles answered. Carlos opened the door and stepped into the room “Have you been on instagram?” Carlos asked holding his phone in his hand 

“No why?” Charles was confused, what was so important on there that had Carlos wondering of his activity on the app “You should see this” Carlos told him while passing him his opened phone. 

When Charles looked down and saw what he saw, he felt his heart stop. There you and him were on his boat, last summer. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He scrolled through his tagged and it was flooded with the same pictures posted by various accounts 

“This isn’t good” he mumbled to himself as he passed Carlos his phone back so he could pick up his own phone. He went to go text you immediately when he remembered you had told him, you and your best friend were going camping for a few days which meant you wouldn’t have reception until you got back home. 

He opted to still text you something rather than nothing, that way you would see his message once you turned your phone back on and would give him a call. 

“Can I ask who she is?” Carlos asked after a few moments of silence “Shes my girlfriend. We’ve been together now for almost 3 years” Charles answered his friends question, figuring the secret was out now and there was no point in lying. 

“Oh wow, you’ve kept this going for that long and its just now coming to light. Thats impressive” Carlos told him 

“Yeah we decided early on to keep it between us” Charles sighed “We were planning on going public eventually but I guess the public beat us to it” 

Carlos just gave his teammate a sympathetic nod, there wasn’t anything he could say in the moment but he could still be there for his friend. 

A few days after this, when you were on the drive back to your place, you turned your phone back on, having a few texts from Charles. One that stood out, read ��Babe give me a call when you can. I have to talk to you about something’ the text from Charles read. 

You weren’t sure what this could be about so you didn’t wait to dial his number once you were in the comfort of your apartment. After a few rings, Charles answered, asking you how camping was and catching up before moving on to talk about what happened while you were offline. 

That night you and Charles had a long conversation on what you both wanted to do in this situation and after some back and forth, finally came to a decision regarding your relationship that you both hoped you wouldn’t regret down the line. 

-

yourusername posted on their story  

caption: he’s back ♥️

╰ yourbestfriend: happy anniversary to you two:)

charles_leclerc posted on their story  

caption: when she makes you breakfast 😍

╰ maxverstappen1: WAIT ‘SHE’ ?? 

╰ carlossainz55: AW

╰ landonorris: soft launch? 

-

yourusername posted on their instagram   

yourbestfriend, charles_leclerc, landonorris, pierregasly & others liked 

i guess after 3 years, my mystery man isn’t a mystery anymore. 

happy 3 years mon amour 😘 

tagged: @charles_leclerc

comments have been limited 

charles_leclerc: i love our love 

charles_leclerc: 3 years into it, a lifetime to go 

╰ liked by yourusername 

yourbestfriend: so happy for you both 🥹

╰ liked by yourusername

pierregasly: oh wait this is actually cute 

╰ landonorris: agreed !!!!

charles_leclerc posted on their instagram    

yourusername, yourbestfriend, f1, landonorris, maxverstappen1 & others liked 

hard launching because i’ve wanted to post my girl since i met her 

joyeux anniversaire, ma chérie 💌 

tagged: @yourusername 

comments have been limited

yourusername: i love you 

yourusername: falling asleep on you > falling asleep on the bed 

╰ liked by charles_leclerc

f1: we’re happy for you:)

maxverstappen1: 3 YEARS? WOW 

maxverstappen1: happy for you dude 

carlossainz55: bring her to the races so we can all meet her !! 

╰ liked by yourusername & charles_leclerc 

-

i hope you enjoyed this one. im trying to get more into including actual pieces of writing so hopefully for this one, everything made sense. as always feel free to leave any comments or you can make your own request, up to you! ♥️

[jessiexflem]

– oh, baby | jessie fleming x reader

content: pregnancy blurb, fluff, based on this request!

word count: 820

Blankets, car seat, clothes. Blankets, car seat, clothes. Diapers? No, they have diapers at the hospital. But, what if they run out of the size we need? No, they won’t, they have so many. It wouldn’t hurt to bring some of ours, though, right? You toss a few newborn diapers in your hospital bag, just in case. Do we need bottles? Shoes? Babies don’t even wear shoes. It’s January, though, what if her feet get co–

“Babe?” Jessie interrupts your thoughts, “Why did I find the television remote in the fridge?”

Your eyes land on the remote in your wife’s hand. You were flipping through channels this morning when you had gotten a craving for a mug of hot chocolate. But, if the remote was in the fridge, where was the carton of milk?

“Oh, I was looking for that earlier,” you frowned.

Jessie chuckles, placing the remote on the dresser as she steps toward you. She wraps her arms around your waist belly, her chest pressing against your back. She rests her head on your shoulder, “How are my girls doing?”

You groan, motioning at the half-packed hospital bag and pile of baby supplies strewn across your bed. You were eight months pregnant, and your doctor instructed you to be prepared for your baby girl to make her appearance at any point between now and your actual due date. 

“What if I forget to pack something?”

Jessie bites her lip, holding back a laugh, “Sweetheart, I think you’ve packed the entire house.”

You sigh, turning around to sit on the edge of the bed, “I just want to be prepared.”

This was your and Jessie’s first pregnancy, and the stress of the unknowns of parenthood were growing and growing the closer you got to your due date. Your friends had been supportive, giving recommendations on what you did or didn’t need, and things that you could expect during each trimester, but you were terrified for what was to come once it was time to take your baby home. You and Jessie had enrolled in pregnancy and parenting courses, but you couldn’t help but worry about everything the classes didn’t cover. 

You stare down at your feet belly as the back of your eyes begin to sting. “I don’t want to mess anything up,” you whisper.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Jessie frowns, kneeling on the floor to look up at your face. She grabs your hand, giving it a squeeze, “You won’t mess anything up.”

“I’m scared, Jess,” you use your free hand to wipe away a few stray tears, “What if I don’t know what I’m doing?”

“I know you’re scared, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t also absolutely terrified,” your wife admits, “but I also know that you’ve done everything you can to learn about what to expect, and what we need to prepare for.”

You shake your head, “What if it’s not enough? What if I’m a bad mom?”

“My love,” Jessie frowns, “I promise you there is no way that you will ever be a bad mom. Absolutely no way. Dare I say you’ll be the best mom. I won’t pretend like we’re going to know everything, but I know that even if we don’t, we’re going to figure it out.”

You take a deep breath, biting your lip as you mull over her words. Jessie had been amazing your entire pregnancy, from caring for you when morning sickness kept you in bed most of your first trimester, to running to the store at odd hours of the night for that one specific ice cream that you needed right now. If anyone was going to be the best mom, it was going to be your wife.

“Promise we’ll figure it out?”

“I promise.”

You give Jessie a meek smile, “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” 

“Hush,” she rolls her eyes, moving to sit next to you on the bed, “I love you so much, and I can’t wait to watch you become a mom.”

“I love you more,” you press your lips to hers, “Are we sure she’s going to like her name, though?”

“Y/N.”

“I don’t want her to not like her name!” you giggle.

Jessie shakes her head, but a laugh escapes her lips, “Then we change it. I think little Miss Amelia will like her name just fine, though.”

As if on cue, you feel a foot start pushing into the side of your belly. You shift Jessie’s hand to where your baby was kicking and watch her face light up. 

“I think that’s a resounding yes,” your wife’s grin pulls from ear to ear, “Isn’t it, Amelia? You’re kicking hard, aren’t you? Auntie Janine’s going to have you running shooting drills with her as soon as you’re out here, huh?”

You smile, your fears pushed out of your mind, “She already takes after her Mama, doesn’t she?”

[deeplyshalllow]

An In Depth Study of Fiyero and Elphaba's interactions in the Dancing Through Life/Ozdust Scene in Wicked the Movie

As a follow on from the post I made the other day analysing the Fiyeraba movie meeting scene, I wanted to do an analysis on the movie’s take on the other Fiyero and Elphaba interactions.

I am writing an analysis of the Lion Cub scene too, but it’s over 1000 words and they’re still only on their bikes. So I thought I’d split this up and post the DTL/Ozdust Fiyeraba analysis. It’s a small one, give Fiyero and Elphaba don’t speak to each other during this scene, but there’s some interesting things to note.

The moment where Fiyero waves at Elphaba, while Elphaba rolls her eyes at him is a good way to confirm both of their feelings about each other in this moment. Fiyero has no hard feelings about Elphaba from the day before (and he’s certainly not taken his cue from how the rest of the student body treats her). If anything, she’s interested him and it’s made him more determined to befriend her and prove he’s got nothing against her. Elphaba, however, still thinks he’s like everyone else and is mocking her for her skin, and him playing up the dumb playboy act even louder, now he has an audience, is not helping at all, and she leaves mid scene. While we see Elphaba’s views of Fiyero at this stage in the musical with this line “It's absurd! This silly, rich boy appears and everyone's off to worship him at some cultish social gathering!” getting Fiyero’s feelings for Elphaba here is new and is a nice addition to his character.

The second important moment is Fiyero’s line in the Ozdust about Elphaba, “Well I’ll say this much, she doesn’t give a twig what anyone thinks.” It is a line taken directly from the musical but it hits slightly differently here. In the musical this line is said because Fiyero cares so much about what everyone else thinks that he rewrites his entire personality and he envies Elphaba for apparently not doing the same. The thing is, with the meeting scene in the movie where Fiyero calls out Elphaba’s defensiveness, we know that Fiyero has already sussed out Elphaba uses aggression as a defence mechanism, he knows she cares what other people think and puts on an act too – so instead this line can be read as Fiyero going “I’m impressed she’s brave enough to do what she wants despite knowing people will judge her for it” which has a nice link to him admiring what she does in Defying Gravity at the beginning of Act 2, “You know who could [resist being popular for doing what is right]. Who has.” As well as foreshadowing his act 2 character development when he too gives up the love of the people to do what is right.

We also get a few shots of Fiyero dancing along enthusiastically and looking admiringly at Galinda and Elphaba together through the Gelphie dance scene. It’s actually toned down from in the musical where he’s the first to go over and talk to Elphaba and Galinda when everyone starts joining in, (which I get – he doesn’t really need to be in this important Gelphie moment), but I think what it does imply is finally a change in Elphaba’s attitude towards him. She’s given Galinda a second chance, Galinda joining in has allowed her to let her guard down and Fiyero, as always is nothing but supportive of her. It’s very easy from this scene to see that, logically, Elphaba will be happy to start afresh with her perception of Fiyero too.

Analysis of Fiyeraba interactions in the Lion Cub Scene in the movie

An In Depth Study of Elphaba and Fiyero in the Train Station Scene

[snow-snowball]

🧸ྀི A man! 🧸ྀི

What lads men doing for you?

characters: Sylus; Xavier; Zayne; Rafayel.

a/n: English is not my first language, so I apologise for any mistakes. Requests are open!!!

It's New Year's Eve in four days. I would love for you to decorate my Christmas tree!

warnings: Mentioning clubs, drunk people, clingy men, kids, not highly toxic jokes.

Sylus:

• He won’t let you feel uncomfortable.

• Is the club music too loud? Sylus will throw out the DJ to lower the volume.

• Is the company unpleasant? He will wrap his arm around your shoulders and lead you away.

• Is some guy staring at you strangely? Sylus will take care of him without hesitation.

• Today was another visit to the club. You didn’t give Sylus a heads-up, and now you regret it. You’ve had too much to drink and are struggling to walk. It feels like you might break your ankles in these heels. Leaning against the wall of a tall building, you touched your hot face with an equally warm hand. Your eyes struggled to make sense of the figures around you.

• “Hey, gorgeous! Need some help?” a strange male voice called out. The stranger stood too close, his hands already reaching for your shoulders when suddenly, black and red threads wrapped around him and lifted him away.

• “Keep your filthy hands to yourself.” Oh, that voice—you could recognize it anywhere. Your man arrived just in time, as always. You heard the man's screams, the crack of bones, and Sylus’s heavy footsteps. “Here I am saving you again, kitten.”

• “Sylus?” You swayed and fell right into his arms. “I missed you so much!” To be honest, Sylus likes it when you’re drunk because you become quite clingy. “These stupid heels hurt! Can I take them off?”

• He supported you with one hand while the other removed his shoes. Then he crouched down and placed you on his knee. Sylus began to take off your heels and slipped on his shoes instead. “Is this better?” he asked, gently standing while holding your heels.

• “Oh! So comfortable!” You clapped your hands joyfully, and in response, he leaned down to kiss you on the forehead.

Xavier:

• He always walks ahead of you, shielding you with his broad back.

• As one of the top Hunters, Xavier takes on the most perilous missions. When you join him on assignments, he turns into a protective hen. “Hold on. I’ll check it out.” Or “Shh, there’s someone over there. I’ll handle it; you stay put.” Or “Don’t interfere; I’ve got this.” At first, it stung, making you feel like a burden. But that couldn’t be further from the truth! Xavier just wants to keep you safe and sound.

• His worry for you even led him to argue with his superiors. When they refused to make any changes (Xavier believes you should get easier tasks), he got angrier than ever before.

• It seems that Hunter has everything under wraps, but when it comes to his beloved, he just can’t keep his emotions at bay.

• He protects you even during casual strolls. Xavier is always alert, ready to take on any threat just so you’re okay.

• When unfamiliar guys approach, he draws you in closer and shoots them a cold glare. With that displeased look, he wards off anyone who dares to come near. “Wow, you’ve really got a jealous streak!” you chuckle, watching him shoo away yet another suitor.

• “Jealous?”

• “Well, it’s when you think that someone you care about might go off with someone else. You’re deeply attached, and you feel a pang when someone tries to steal your partner. Something like that.” You smile awkwardly, realizing how silly it sounds.

• “Yeah, probably.” Xavier’s words hit home. “I’d protect you from anyone in this world.” He gently brushed your cheek and pulled you closer. “Especially from men who have their eyes on my treasure.” His soft lips brushed against yours. Through that tender kiss, he tries to convey what he can’t say aloud.

Zayne:

• This doctor won’t let you lift anything heavy.

• Heading to the store? He’ll tag along to haul all those bulky bags for you.

• Want to move the couch to make the room look nicer? Better step aside. Zayne will handle it all.

• Right now, you’re secretly trying to drag heavy boxes filled with useless junk up to the attic without your husband knowing. But you miscalculated the distance from the wall and crashed into it, sending the boxes tumbling. The racket alerted your husband, and he surveyed the scene with a disapproving look. “Why didn’t you call for me?” First, he helped you up, then you both gathered everything that tumbled out of the boxes back inside. After a heavy sigh, he stacked the boxes and lifted them effortlessly. Once everything was stowed away in the attic, Zayne came back down to you. “So, why didn’t you tell me?”

• “You were busy working, and I didn’t want to bother you.”

• “And that’s why you thought it was a good idea to do this on your own? Y/N, you’re my woman. You shouldn’t be doing all the heavy lifting when I’m around.” He pulled you into his chilly embrace, but the warmth of your body soon turned it cozy. “You could’ve hurt your back or worse.” Zayne pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

• “Sorry for worrying you.”

• “It's all good,” he sighed. “But don’t let it happen again. The mother of my future children needs to stay healthy.” He smiled and ruffled your hair.

• “Mother of your future children?”

• “You thought you could get away from me? Not a chance. I want to build a family with you. I want kids, and only with you.” Zayne's words made you blush. Despite his serious nature, he loves to playfully tease you just to see the flustered look on your face.

Rafayel:

• He always opens doors for you and pulls out your chair like a true gentleman.

• This man is far too glamorous and sophisticated for this world.

• Today, like usual, he decided to take you to the most upscale restaurant. You’ve realized time and again that in his suit, Rafayel is just too hot to handle.

• He loves it when your outfits match; it shows everyone around that you’re a genuine, loving couple.

• As he opened the car door, he waved his hand gallantly, inviting you to hop in. You laughed, lifted the hem of your dress, and slipped into the car.

• Once you arrived, the artist was the first out, opening your door and helping you out. Wrapping your arm around his, you beamed and rested your head on his shoulder. “Today, you’re glowing with happiness—it’s nauseating,” your husband joked, pretending to feel ill.

• “Oh, you rascal! I’m just…” you turned away, slightly embarrassed. “I’m just happy to have you with me.”

• “Ah, that’s it!” He said, holding the door open and ushering you inside. “How adorably sweet!” The artist chuckled, and as you made your way to the table, he pulled out your chair, sat you down, and scooted you in. “In that case, order whatever your heart desires, babe! Let’s blow this card’s limit!” He slapped the table, placing his credit card beside your hand.

• “Wow, what a surprise!” You feigned amazement. As you browsed the menu, you sneaked glances at your man. Rafayel met your gaze. “Why are you staring so hard?”

• “I love you.”

• “What?”

• “I said, ‘hurry up and order.’ I’m starving over here.” You noticed his ears turning red, and with a giggle, you intertwined your fingers with his. Rafayel looked at your hands, half-lidded eyes taking in the moment. He brushed his thumb over your knuckles and gently raised your hand to his lips, kissing it. “I want to spend my life taking you to fancy restaurants.”

© 2024 do reblog, but don’t copy or publish my work on other platforms, or translate (without my permission) into other languages. Any coincidences are coincidental! The dividers belong to me! If you want use them, just tag me: @alexvolleyball

[enidtendo64]

Hi!

I just wanted to let you know that I think your art style is beautiful, and it always makes my day better when I see you post something because it's just so unique!

May I ask you about your thoughts on Dipcificia (I hope I'm spelling that right), and their relationship and what their favorite things might be about each other? By the way, have you heard of Over the Garden Wall? (cuz smoetimes people make otgw and gravity falls related posts). I didn't really want to waste your time and I apologise if I did, that was not my intention :) and I hope you have a wonderful day/night!

Hi! Aw man thank you so much!

Oh I have too many thoughts about them—I’m on like a lunch break rn so I might not have much time to speak how much I want on them buuuuut I do have a relationship meme I did a while back that I can post here and explain a bit!

So, here’s the thing, I think depending on the situation/AU/whatever they might have some different things in their dynamic, but I think overall a key feature to their relationship in any setting is that there needs to be banter!

Pacifica likes that Dipper is just as sassy as she is and isn’t afraid to call her out while still having that support system she needs, and just being someone she knows likes her for her and not her money or status.

Dipper likes that Pacifica despite the haughty toity stuff and bratty exterior is a real and witty person who can be brave and cares about people (even if it’s deep down) and bc she has these nuances and isn’t an ideal like he’d made for Wendy in his head, he can actually talk to her and have a good relationship.

Ok now this one is gonna veer more into headcanons but these first two are supported by canon so! I think Dipper enjoyed heavily the fact Pacifica is secretly nerdy, or at least nerdy without realizing. Canonically Pacifica is like, level 100 at some overwatch/warcraft hybrid that I’m convinced is the GF equivalent of League of Legends, and I have a heavy headcanon that Pacifica is so naturally good at numbers and shit like the reason she’s so good at minigolf is just like she sees the angles. Which is funny to be good at geometry when your series’ big evil dude is a triangle. Also Abigale Northwest reference of her being a tinkerer/engineer. I think Pacifica would decimate him in video games or any games in general and Dipper would be both parts competitively upset and genuinely impressed.

And theeennnn this is also backed by canon: I think Dipper is secretly a huuuuge romantic, liek does all the sweet shit type of romantic. I mean we’ve seen his elaborate Wendy plots, and I think it just makes sense for a guy who likes to plan to plan romantic stuff. And maybe he’d also like for someone to do stuff like that for him in return! He might not admit it but everyone picks up on it real quick I think. Pacifica is both surprised and endeared, if not used to it since she comes from a home that doesn’t really express affection. I don’t think she’s ever had anyone actually say they love her, and then here comes Mr. 12 step date plan. I think it just makes her fall even more!

Let’s see, I also think Pacifica falls first, Dipper falls harder. Paz got a crush at the end of NWMM, Dipper would finally realize he liked her like maybe the next summer or so, but by that point Pacifica has resigned herself to having a crush she will never speak of ever bc it’s embarrassing and also she has no clue how to give and receive affection. She’s still learning! I think it differs based on the situation but for post series canon, I’d like to think they started dating/long distancing like first or second year of high school and ended up being high school sweethearts. Bc I think it’s cute!

Let’s see what else…uh Dipper confesses first, Pacifica was his first kiss but Pacifica’s first kiss was when she was younger with some snooty boy and it was unwanted and she cried bc he was being an asshole who took it from her, and her parents didn’t give af. Typical. They both start arguments, though Dipper apologizes first only BARELY. They’re both equally stubborn. Pacifica will apologize if she knows it’s her in the wrong (like idk saying please thank you and sorry) but if it’s a real, both sides hurt and got hurt, type of argument, Pacifica edges out in the “how stubborn can I be” race. And then Paz brings up the past more bc it’s the most she can reference with her sheltered upbringing, and Dipper talks more bc Pacifica is genuinely interested in his interests even if she doesn’t outright admit it sometimes but also I think Pacifica tends to have gotten used to not talking as much unless it’s to judge so she’s got a lot of shit to unlearn, so she just reacts to being spoken to more than starting the convo, if that makes sense. And then Pacifica is more sacrificial bc I do think Dipper is super giving and definitely protective (they both are but Dipper more so since he’s just canonically like that) but I think Pacifica is more the type to sacrifice way more than she can give if it means doing what’s right. Even if she hates it lol. (The bell, idk wtf happened with her there but she’s genuinely scared out of her mind about that bell and yet she’s willing to risk it all!)

Ok and then lastly! I have seen OTGW! I love that show! It’s really well animated and the storyline is sweet!

And thank you, I hope you have a wonderful night too!

[pupkashi]

volvi a nacer

gojo feels life start anew now that you’re by his side

a/n: hi hi friends ! this is heavily inspired by this song !! i think it’s so sweet and yeah <3 (unrelated but my bf sent me it i was geeking out for a week ok) ALSO GIGI (@4sat0ruu) I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS SO MUCH MY FELLOW LATINA 🙏🙏🙏; slightly latinx coded reader bc i can !

wordcount - 2,737

masterlist

translations: mi amor // my love, hermoso(a) // beautiful, mi corazon // my heart, cariño // sweetheart

there was time in gojo satoru’s life that he felt his life had essentially ended. he felt isolated, like no one would ever fill the void he felt in his chest.

he didn’t think he had anyone to lean on when he needed it, opting for a façade of cockiness and jokes when anyone asked if he was alright.

you saw through it all. with a concerned frown on your face as you wrapped your arms around him, holding him as tightly as you could and squeezing him.

“i don’t need your hugs, y/n,” he scoffed, hoping you didn’t hear the wobble in his voice, “I’m the strongest, i can take on anything by myself.”

“I’m sure you can, but you don’t have to,” you whispered, not letting go for a second. you heard the tremble in his breath, the hitch in his throat when he heard your next words, “I’m right here, you’ll be okay.”

for a split second satoru saw the world for all its warmth and love rather than its faults and challenges. he felt the love and support he’d only ever imagined, the suns warm rays hitting his skin as you held him tightly.

it faded as you pulled away, and he could hear nobara and yuji yelling in the distance, toge and yuta laughing at something.

“I’ll be here if you need me, okay?” you reassure him, your hand lingers on his shoulder for a bit before you walk away.

you’re only two steps away when you feel satoru gently grab your wrist, letting go not even a second after he did. when you turn to face him he looks shocked, as if he didn’t have control of his own body for a second.

“uh- can-” he stumbles over his words, not knowing exactly what to say and not exactly having the courage to say whatever they were.

“yeah, i can,” you smile softly, taking his hand in yours, “how about we get some food, when’s the last time you had actual food and not take out or sweets?” you question.

satoru rolls his eyes, scoffing before counting the days on his fingers, “it hasn’t been that long,” he mumbles, smiling a bit when you shake your head and laugh at him.

it’s been three years since then, somewhere along the way the line of caring friend and something more had been crossed, pinkies interlinking during movie night, a stolen kiss in a maintenance closet when hiding from an upset yaga.

he’s not exactly sure what’s making him reminisce on that day. maybe he’s recalling the way the sunshine felt on his skin, the way it does now as it pours in through the blinds, landing on his bare chest.

“you didn’t snore this time” you mumble, voice a bit hoarse as you wake up.

satoru grins, “I told you I’d stop,” you can’t help but half laugh, cuddling up to him more, “I’d do anything you ask of me sweets.”

“it’s 9 in the morning and you’re already professing your undying love?” you tease, just barely opening your eyes to look at your lover, who’s already staring right back at you, soft smile adorning his beautiful face.

“would do it all hours of the day if you’d let me,” he replies, not missing a beat. you can only chuckle softly, letting your head rest on his chest. your hair tickles him a bit but he ignores it, focusing on the way your index fingers draws random patterns on his abdomen.

satoru lets his mind wander, he thinks how lucky he is.

how lucky he was to be given a second chance at life, to be able to come back from a place so dark, to now be able to quite literally be bathed in sunlight and tender touches.

“where’d you go?” you whisper, adjusting yourself on your side and letting your arm prop you up. satoru is reeled back in, snowy lashes kissing his cheeks gently as he lays on his side to face you.

“thinking ‘bout how lucky i am,” he mumbles, staring at you for a second before a soft smile overtakes his lips, “I love you.” the words never fail to make you smile, you never miss a beat to respond, “i love you more, angel boy.”

“there isn’t anything i wouldn’t do for you, you know that right?” he’s focusing on the fuzz of the blanket rather than your eyes, looking up only when you hum in response.

“what if you have to fight off the most talented swordsman in the world for me?” you tease, he’s smiling at you as he sits up.

“then I’ll get a sword and do what i have to do to not lose you,” he answers like it’s the most simple thing in the world, “I’ve fought off worse haven’t i?” his cockiness makes you roll your eyes and chuckle, sitting up and kissing his cheek before stretching and finally getting out of bed.

“i guess so, you’re too strong for any of my hypotheticals,” you mumble, the taller man following you into the restroom, brushing your teeth together before heading into the living room.

“what do you want for breakfast?” satoru asks, his hands are already reaching for the ingredients for an omelette, recalling how you’d been craving one since last night but fell asleep as soon as you’d gotten home.

“what’s on the menu today, chef gojo?” you smile, moving from the couch to the kitchen bar, watching as he took out four eggs and various veggies and meats.

“how ‘bout that omelette you were dreaming of yesterday, sweetheart?” he’s grinning as he cracked an egg open with one hand over the bowl, a trick you’d taught him that took him the course of two cartons of eggs.

“you’re too perfect mi amor,” the words make his ears turn bright red, face flushed as he continues his fluid movements in the kitchen.

three years ago had someone told you the satoru gojo could make omelettes and crack eggs with one hand you would’ve laughed in their face, betting your life savings and then some against the snowy haired sorcerer.

yet here you are; three years, lots of broken eggs, burnt food and nights in the restroom later- you watch the love of your life make you an omelette.

the two of you eat breakfast over small talk, telling him of your plans for the day.

“I’ve gotta run some errands today, i hope traffic isn’t too bad” you trail off, mentally checking all the things you had to do.

“i can drive if you want,” he shrugs, chugging down the last bit of orange juice in his cup before grabbing your plate and placing them in the sink. “i don’t have anything else going on.”

you smile at your lover, “you don’t have to drive me around everywhere, you know that right?” satoru knew your distaste for being behind the wheel, he only saw it as an opportunity to pamper you and treat you like the royalty you were.

“i know, but i love driving you everywhere,” he grins, walking next to where you were seated and bending over to kiss your temple, “I’ll be your loyal chauffeur for as long as you’ll have me, hermosa.” the word is foreign on his tongue, it slips past his lips naturally, just the way you’d been teaching him common phrases.

“hermosa? who’d you learn that one from?” fighting the smile off your face was a predestined loss, barely hiding how over the moon you were at the new pet name. your words are teasing as you stand from the kitchen bar, stopping right in front of your lover, looking up at him.

“duolingo was hitting on me, actually,” satoru replies, a dimpled smile on his face when your arms snake around his neck, pulling him downwards so his lips met yours.

“can duo fight?” you laugh between kisses, pressing a softer kiss to the tip of his nose before detaching yourself from him.

satoru is ready before you, sitting on the edge of the bed and watching- no admiring, your every move as you get ready. his mind is filled with a whirlwind of compliments he can’t seem to get out, overcome with an overwhelming sense of love for you.

you’re an aura of warmth, kindness and love, and angel sent for him. a caring soul, who nurtured him back to health; through late night calls that ended with you in his apartment or vice versa, gentle reminders and tight hugs helping him through his toughest nights. through forced outings to fairs and arcades, despite his protests that he has been doing things other than working with his students and going on missions (he hadn’t).

it had taken time, but satoru had healed.

your love had healed him.

“oh i can’t do movie night Friday” you frowned, watching as the second and first years trained.

“oh? why’s that” satoru was caught off guard, you’d never been one to cancel on him.

“i- uh- I’ve got a date, actually” you chuckle, staring at your finger nails before looking at the man next to you.

“a date?” he repeated, heart sinking and stomach falling as you nodded with a smile.

“nanami set me up with them, didn’t know he actually had friends besides us,” you smiled, trying your best to ease the palpable tension.

you’d gotten up and left shortly after that, some lame excuse he can’t remember now. he did remember angrily walking into nanami’s office, accusing him of hating satoru and wanting to see him suffer.

“have you thought of- i don’t know, maybe telling y/n how you feel?” kento sighs, trying his best to focus on the report he was filling out before satoru had barged in.

satoru hadn’t thought of that, but he took his friends advice and marched up to you three hours later, confessing his feelings upfront.

“don’t go on that date, they don’t deserve you,” he began, immediately taking you back, “and maybe i don’t either but just give me one chance and i swear you won’t regret it.”

“what’s up with you today? maybe you shouldn’t drive” your words pull him out of his memory, blinking once, then twice before fully coming back to his senses.

“do you remember when you told me you had that date?” he asks, watching as you furrows your brows, the corners of your lips turning upwards as you recall the memory.

“oh yeah! then you confessed like an hour later” satoru nods, blushing a bit. “what about it?” you ask, moving to sit next to him, taking his larger hand in yours, tracing soothing circles into his skin with your thumb.

“i didn’t even know i liked you then,” he admits, “i just felt this terrible feeling in my stomach and yelled at nanami for wanting to ruin my life.” the revelation makes you smile a bit, “he told me to tell you that i liked you and only then did it dawn upon me that i had romantic feelings for you.” satoru laughs at himself now, looking at you with sparkling blue eyes.

“well, you were- and still are a bit of a dummy” you mumble, pulling his arm so satoru can lean against you, letting you rest your head atop his. “my silly angel boy.”

angel boy.

the first time he heard you say that he quite literally stopped in his tracks, smiling from ear to ear before picking you up and spinning you around. ‘say it again!’ he kept asking, blushing just as hard every time the pet name left your mouth.

satoru loves grocery shopping with you, checking off things as you put them in the cart. he thinks you look angelic against the backdrop of produce, heart fluttering as you look for the best bunch of cilantro.

he could do this for the rest of his life, he thinks to himself. the realization makes him bump against the display, thankful nothing fell over.

satoru gojo wants to marry you.

he wants nothing more in his life than to be with you for as long as he could. he wants to spend his mornings and nights besides you, he wants to make you breakfast and help you cook dinner, he wants to wash the dishes because you hate washing them, he wants to wake up to Cumbia and bachata on Sunday mornings as you clean, joining you and singing in broken Spanish as you serenade him with a broom.

it’s not as romantic as he’d once imagined, he thought the realization would come to him as the wind blew through your hair, or the golden rays of the sun kissed your cheeks.

instead he’s watching you pick out a two pack of steak, looking at him with a wide smile, “the prices dropped!” you grin, giddy as you happily put the meat into the cart, practically skipping down the line of raw meats.

he can hear his heartbeat in his ears as he wonder what to do next, mindlessly following you around the grocery store with the cart, every aisle affirming the fact that you’re the only one for him, especially as you tell him to get one sweet treat for the week as you go and get the milk.

he’s staring lovingly at you as you wait in line at the register, watching with interest as your eyes light up, “cariño can you get the eggs? i completely forgot,” he nods immediately, placing a chaste kiss to your cheek before turning on his heel and heading towards the eggs.

satoru lets the thought of marriage ruminate in his mind, recalling the times you’d talked about marriage, agreeing that you’d want to marry him. what if you’d changed your mind since then?

later that week as satoru is passing you the salt, he asks you the question that’s been eating at his mind. “do you still wanna get married?”

you chalk it up to his usual insecurities, turning around and kissing the tip of his nose and both his dimples. “‘course i do, angel boy” you reply, not missing a beat, “why? everything okay?”

satoru nods, eyes fluttering shut when your lips are pressing against his. “everything’s perfect,” he mumbles against you, smiling and chasing your lips for one more kiss before he passes you the butter.

one month later satoru is under the shade the cherry blossom trees give him, with you staring down at him, mouth still agape from seeing him get down on one knee.

“mi corazon, I’ve loved you more than i thought possible, you’ve breathed life into me when i thought there was no reason to keep living, you bring out the best in me everyday,” he begins, hands shaking slightly as you stare back at him, tears welling in your eyes.

“i want to be by your side for the rest of my life, i want to find you in every crowd, save you a seat next to mine and end my days with you in my arms,” satoru tried to ignore the thumping of his heart in his ears, “i want to be the only one lucky enough to be loved by you, will you marry me?”

you’re nodding quickly, mouth still covered before you’re throwing your arms around the snowy haired man- your now fiancé. “of course, yes!” you laugh, sniffling and wiping the tears that had fallen as you squeeze him tightly. “i love you cariño, i love you so so much” you grin, pressing your lips harshly against his, not caring when your teeth bump against his as you both smile, the spring wind causing pink petals to fall around the two of you.

there was a time in gojo’s life when he thought his life was over. he looks back and smiles, how was he supposed to know the best part of his life was only starting?

the void he once felt in his chest was now overflowing with the love and patience you poured into him; sickeningly sweet pet names and tender touches to ease his mind.

satoru can’t help but smile when he wakes up next to you everyday, grateful beyond belief he decided to be vulnerable that day in the courtyard.

“already staring at me lovingly?” you teased, making satoru grin, dimples on his cheeks as he hummed.

“something like that.”

[mediocre-shark-tales]

Abu Dhabi GP

Masterlist

Trigger Warning- slow burn of increasing themes including sexism, SA, depression, and implied grooming

The paddock in Abu Dhabi was alive with speculation, buzzing with fans, journalists, and team members all eager for a hint about my future. The grand finale of the season always carried a mix of excitement and melancholy, but this year, there was an extra layer of uncertainty surrounding me.

The whispers had been growing louder ever since Lance’s recovery updates started trickling out. Aston Martin had been clear—Lance Stroll was close to returning, his seat waiting for him. And while I had known from the beginning that my position was temporary, the thought of leaving the grid now, after everything, was a weight I couldn’t fully ignore.

Walking through the paddock, I could feel the questions hanging in the air, the lingering glances from reporters and fans. Even the drivers seemed more cautious, their words carefully chosen whenever the topic of next season arose.

Max was one of the first to address it directly. During a quick chat before FP1, he leaned against the Red Bull garage, arms crossed. “So,” he started casually, though his tone betrayed genuine concern, “are you staying quiet on purpose, or do you not know what’s happening yet?”

I gave him a small, tight smile. “A little bit of both,” I admitted. “Nothing’s finalized, and I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up—including my own.”

His brow furrowed slightly, but he nodded. “You deserve a seat. Everyone knows it.”

The sentiment was echoed throughout the weekend. Charles stopped me in the paddock later that day, his usual friendly grin replaced with a more serious expression. “Whatever happens, you’ve proven you belong here,” he said firmly. “No one can take that away from you.”

But the most touching moment came from the fans. During the driver parade, the cheers for me were louder than I’d ever heard. Banners with my name and messages of support filled the grandstands, and one sign in particular caught my eye: “Wherever you go, we follow.”

It was overwhelming, the love and support from people who had seen me at my lowest and celebrated my highest moments.

Back in the Aston Martin motorhome, I sat with my PR team, discussing how to handle the inevitable questions during media duties. They suggested vague answers, emphasizing that nothing was confirmed yet. I nodded along, but deep down, I hated the ambiguity.

When I stepped into my first interview of the day, the question came up almost immediately.

“So, with Lance on the mend, fans are wondering—will we see you on the grid next season?” the journalist asked, their tone curious but careful.

I hesitated, choosing my words cautiously. “Right now, my focus is on finishing this season as strong as I can,” I said. “Beyond that, we’ll see what opportunities come my way. I’ve loved every moment of being part of this incredible sport, and I hope to continue being involved in some capacity.”

It wasn’t the answer they—or I—wanted, but it was the truth.

Later that evening, as I scrolled through social media, I saw countless posts speculating about my future. But among them were messages of hope, support, and belief in me. Fans declaring their unwavering loyalty, drivers posting subtle hints of solidarity.

One post from the official F1 account stood out: a photo of me with the caption, “No matter what the future holds, this season will never forget her name.”

As the weekend in Abu Dhabi carried on, I couldn’t help but feel a quiet excitement bubbling under the surface. After Thursday Media Duties, The contract had finally been signed. While the paddock was busy speculating about my future, the truth was something I was holding close to my chest, savoring the satisfaction of knowing that I would still be on the grid in some capacity next year.

My vague comments during interviews only fueled the rumors. I’d hinted at signing a contract once but kept the details shrouded in mystery. The fans and journalists seemed convinced that I had secured a seat with a different team for 2025. Theories ranged from Williams to Sauber, and I even overheard someone mention Haas. It was almost amusing to watch the speculation spread like wildfire.

After the final practice session, I found myself in a quiet corner of the paddock, scrolling through social media while sipping a bottle of water. The hashtags #WhereWillSheGo and #GridQueen were trending, alongside countless fan theories dissecting every interview I’d given that weekend.

“Are you enjoying the chaos you’re causing?” Lando teased, walking over with his trademark smirk.

I laughed, shaking my head. “I didn’t mean to cause chaos,” I said. “I just... I’m not ready to tell anyone yet.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “So you do have something lined up.”

I gave him a pointed look, a playful smile tugging at my lips. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

“Fine, keep your secrets,” he said with a chuckle, walking away.

What no one knew was that I had signed a unique deal. Starting in 2026, I would be joining Cadillac when they entered the grid as a new team. It was a dream opportunity, one that aligned with everything I wanted for my career. But instead of taking a year off before their debut, They’d struck an agreement to have me race the 2025 season on loan with VCARB.

The deal was a win-win. VCARB needed a driver who could perform well and help mentor their reserve driver, Isack Hadjar, a young talent brimming with potential. Isack had initially been slated to step in as the team’s driver for 2025, but VCARB wanted him to be fully prepared for the demands of the sport. Their solution? Pair him with someone experienced who could help him grow both on and off the track. And that someone was me. They also really liked the idea that Isack wouldn’t have to join F1 only for major changes to take place the following season, forcing him to relearn everything just as he might have found his style. 

I had to admit, I liked the idea. Isack was promising, and mentoring him while continuing to race felt like the perfect way to stay sharp for 2026. It also meant I wouldn’t have to endure the uncertainty of sitting out an entire year, watching from the sidelines as the grid moved on without me.

By Sunday evening, the whispers had reached their peak. Reporters and fans alike were waiting for an announcement, but I kept my lips sealed. Even my closest friends on the grid were left in the dark. The only person who seemed to suspect anything was Fernando, who had an uncanny ability to read people.

“You’re too calm,” he remarked as we walked through the paddock. “Whatever happens next year, you already know where you’re going, don’t you?”

I smiled, shrugging. “Maybe.”

He gave me a knowing look but didn’t press further.

Free Practice 2 was supposed to be just another session to shake down the car and refine strategy, but this sport has a way of throwing curveballs when you least expect them. The sun blazed down on the Yas Marina Circuit, and I was just starting to settle into a rhythm, my mind locked on squeezing out every ounce of performance. My engineer, Landon, chimed in on the radio.

"Car looks good. Let’s get a couple of consistent laps here," he said, his voice calm.

I responded with a crisp, “Copy,” and pushed forward, picking up speed as I approached the next lap. The track felt alive beneath me, the vibrations of the car reverberating through my body. But everything changed in a split second.

Ahead, Jack Doohan misjudged the timing of an overtake attempt. I caught the movement in my mirrors as his front tire caught the rear of my car. It was like watching a nightmare unfold in slow motion. My car snapped out of control, the rear spinning violently to the left. An immense sense of deja vu washed over me at this moment. Before I could react further, Jack’s car slammed into my side, t-boning me with a force that jarred every bone in my body.

The impact left no time to breathe or recalibrate. The world spun again, and just as I began to process the collision, Alex Albon’s car collided with my rear. The second hit sent a thunderous jolt through me, and all three of us careened off the track. The barriers loomed closer at a terrifying speed until we slammed into them with a sickening crunch of carbon fiber and metal.

I felt the breath leave my lungs on impact. Pain radiated through my chest and arm, sharp and unforgiving. My ribs protested violently with every gasp of air, and my left arm throbbed with an intensity that made me want to scream. But I didn’t. I clenched my teeth, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand—getting out.

The cockpit felt like a trap. Jack’s car was wedged into my side, and Alex’s car was pressed against my rear, pinning me in. I tried to move my arm to unclip my harness, but a wave of pain stopped me. I froze, forcing myself to push through it.

Through the haze of pain, I noticed Jack already climbing out of his car. He was moving fast, a look of panic etched on his face as he scrambled toward me. Moments later, Alex was there too, sprinting to help.

“You okay?!” Jack shouted, his voice laced with urgency.

I nodded weakly, though every inch of me screamed in protest. “Yeah... I’m fine,” I croaked, though the lie felt bitter on my tongue.

Alex and Jack worked together to help me climb out. Jack supported my right side as Alex steadied me, their hands firm but careful. I winced as my ribs protested the movement, but I kept quiet, refusing to let them see how much pain I was in.

Once I was clear of the wreckage, I leaned against the barrier for support, taking shallow breaths to avoid aggravating my chest. My vision blurred slightly, but I forced myself to stay upright, to project strength. The medics arrived within moments, but I waved them off.

“I’m okay,” I insisted, brushing off their concerns. “Just a bit shaken.”

Jack’s brows furrowed, and Alex crossed his arms, both clearly unconvinced. “You don’t look okay,” Alex said, his tone skeptical.

“I’ll be fine,” I replied, mustering a weak smile. “Just need a minute.”

They didn’t push further, though their worried glances lingered. The adrenaline coursing through my veins dulled the worst of the pain, and for now, I convinced myself it was nothing more than bruising.

Back in the paddock, I avoided the medical center, slipping away before anyone could insist on a check-up. My tolerance for pain had skyrocketed since the crash in Vegas, and I told myself this was no different. A few bruises, maybe a sore arm—nothing I couldn’t handle.

As I sat in the team’s garage, replaying the incident in my mind, a fresh wave of frustration washed over me. The crash hadn’t just shaken me physically—it felt like a cruel reminder of how fragile everything could be. But I couldn’t dwell on it. For now, I swallowed the pain and prepared to face the rest of the weekend, unaware that the fractures in my ribs and arm were more than just a passing ache.

The team worked tirelessly overnight to get the car back in shape. By the time FP3 rolled around, Jack Doohan and Alex Albon’s cars were repaired and ready to hit the track, but mine wasn’t as lucky. The damage to the chassis and rear suspension from the crash was just a bit too extensive to make it back in time. I’d have to sit this one out and wait for qualifying.

Standing on the pit wall, I clutched my notebook, trying to keep the frustration at bay. FP3 wasn’t a wasted opportunity if I could still learn something. My eyes stayed glued to the screens, watching the other drivers navigate the circuit. Every turn, every braking point, every attempt at a daring overtake—it was all data for me.

"Look at Turn 9," Landon pointed out as he leaned over my shoulder. "That’s where a lot of people are losing time. You might be able to gain a few tenths there if you nail the exit."

I nodded, jotting it down in my notes. My mind was already running through scenarios, imagining different approaches I could take. The crash had shaken me, sure, but it hadn’t robbed me of my drive. If anything, it only fueled my determination.

As FP3 wrapped up, I felt a renewed sense of purpose. I wouldn’t let the crash or the whispers of doubt in my mind hold me back. 

Qualifying was a whole new beast. As I climbed back into the cockpit for the first time since the crash, I took a deep breath, trying to block out the lingering aches in my ribs and arm. The adrenaline helped dull the pain, and once the engine roared to life, it was easy to push everything else aside.

Q1 and Q2 were grueling, as I fought to get back into my rhythm. Each lap felt like a battle—not just against the clock but against my own doubts. Landon’s voice over the radio kept me grounded, reminding me of the areas I had identified during FP3.

“Turn 9 looking better,” he said after one lap. “Let’s carry that into the next sector.”

By the time Q3 rolled around, I was in the zone. The car felt like an extension of myself as I pushed it to its limits. I knew the competition was fierce, but I wasn’t about to back down. On my final flying lap, I found that sweet spot—every corner flowing into the next, every braking point executed perfectly.

When I crossed the line, I glanced at the screen. P4. Relief and pride washed over me. After everything, I had clawed my way back to the upper half of the grid.

“P4, solid effort,” Landon said over the radio, his voice tinged with satisfaction.

I allowed myself a small smile, but it didn’t last long. The reminder of the 5-place grid penalty quickly tempered my excitement. The component replacement from the crash had come with a cost, and now I’d be starting P9.

Back in the garage, the team was quick to offer words of encouragement. “You’ll make it up in the race,” one of the mechanics said.

I nodded, masking my frustration. Deep down, I knew they were right. I’d been in worse positions before and clawed my way forward. But this time, it felt personal. P9 wasn’t where I wanted to be, but it wasn’t the end of the world either.

As I reviewed the data from qualifying, my focus shifted back to the task ahead. Tomorrow was a new day, a chance to prove myself all over again. P9 was just a starting point, and I was determined to turn it into something more.

The annual Abu Dhabi drivers' dinner had always been a bittersweet event. It marked the end of the season and carried with it a mix of nostalgia and anticipation. This year, it felt different. I wasn’t just there to celebrate the season but also to say goodbye to this chapter of my career, even if it was temporary.

I arrived fashionably late—not intentionally, but traffic near the circuit had been a nightmare. As I walked into the private dining space, the air buzzed with laughter and the clinking of glasses. The drivers were spread across several tables, some already deep into conversations, others casually lounging and sipping their drinks.

“Over here!” Lando’s voice cut through the chatter, his arm raised in an exaggerated wave. He had saved me a spot, right between himself and Franco.

Sliding into the seat, I was met with Franco’s soft smile on one side and Lando’s mischievous grin on the other. The two had become constants in my life recently, both in their own ways offering me the support I didn’t realize I needed.

“You’re late,” Lando teased, nudging my arm.

“Blame the traffic,” I shot back, rolling my eyes. “Or maybe I just wanted to make an entrance.”

“Mission accomplished,” Franco said with a chuckle. “You turned a few heads walking in.”

I glanced around the room, noticing a few curious looks from the other drivers. It wasn’t malicious—more like a mix of admiration and curiosity about what my next steps might be.

Conversation at the table flowed easily, with Lando cracking jokes that had everyone laughing and Franco chiming in with his own dry humor. At one point, the topic turned to the upcoming season.

“So,” George said from across the table, leaning forward with a sly grin, “are you going to tell us where you’re driving next year, or are we supposed to keep guessing?”

A chorus of “Yeah!” and “Come on, spill it!” erupted from the others.

I smirked, swirling the drink in my glass. “You’ll find out soon enough,” I said cryptically. “Let’s just say I’ll be racing.”

“In Formula 1?” Lando raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued.

“You’ll see,” I replied, keeping the mystery alive.

As the night went on, the atmosphere grew more relaxed. Drivers wandered between tables, catching up with each other, but Franco and Lando stayed firmly by my side. It was a comfort I didn’t take for granted.

At one point, Franco leaned over, his voice low enough that only I could hear. “You okay?”

I nodded, meeting his gaze. “Yeah. Just taking it all in. It’s weird, knowing this is the last race of the season.”

“You’ll still be part of the family,” he said, his tone reassuring. “No matter where you go, you’ll always have us.”

Lando, catching the tail end of the conversation, chimed in. “Yeah, don’t think you’re getting rid of us that easily. We’ll be keeping tabs on you—and if you’re not performing, we’ll roast you on Twitter.”

I laughed, the sound genuine and light. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

3rd person POV

The lively hum of the drivers' dinner enveloped the private dining room, with conversations weaving between racing stories, friendly banter, and speculation about next season. At one of the more crowded tables, tucked subtly in the middle of it all, an unspoken dynamic was on full display, catching the attention of several drivers who couldn’t help but notice.

Franco and Lando sat on either side of her, their proximity anything but accidental. It was subtle at first—Lando sliding an untouched piece of bruschetta onto her plate under the guise of rearranging his silverware, Franco subtly nudging one of his appetizers closer to her side without drawing attention.

Max Verstappen, seated a few spots away, observed quietly, his sharp blue eyes narrowing slightly as the scene unfolded. He’d noticed this shift for weeks now. The way Franco’s posture softened when she spoke, his usual aloof demeanor melting into something gentler. Or how Lando, typically quick to dominate a conversation with jokes and playful remarks, fell unusually quiet whenever she shared a thought, his attention focused entirely on her words.

“She hasn’t touched her drink yet,” Max muttered to Lewis, who was seated beside him.

Lewis followed Max’s gaze, his brow lifting slightly as he caught Franco leaning closer to quietly offer her a sip of water instead. Lando, on the other hand, was halfway through one of his animated stories but cut himself off mid-sentence when she turned to him with a question.

“They’re obvious, aren’t they?” Lewis mused, a knowing smile tugging at his lips as he watched the younger men.

Max exhaled, his protective streak showing as he leaned back in his chair. “It’s not a bad thing, but... she’s been through enough. If they’re going to step up like that, they better mean it.”

Lewis chuckled softly. “You sound like a father sending his daughter off to prom.”

Max shot him a glare but didn’t deny it. His protectiveness wasn’t something he could help, not after seeing her pull herself back together after everything Henry had taken from her.

Meanwhile, Lewis’s perspective was a bit more nuanced. He saw what Max did—the way Franco and Lando lit up whenever she smiled at them—but he also saw how her confidence was slowly rebuilding, brick by brick. The attention and care the two drivers showed her weren’t one-sided. She seemed more at ease with them by her side, her guarded demeanor softening into something more open, more trusting.

“You think she notices?” Max asked quietly.

Lewis shook his head. “Maybe not yet. She’s got too much on her mind. But when she’s ready, she’ll see it.”

Their conversation paused as the table erupted into laughter, her voice cutting through the noise as she quipped back at something Lando had said. Both younger men grinned, but it was the subtle shift in their body language that caught Max and Lewis’s attention again. Franco leaned just a little closer, his arm resting on the back of her chair protectively. Lando, ever the jokester, seemed ready to defend her against even the most harmless jabs.

“You know,” Lewis said after a beat, his tone quieter now, “it’s not just about them. It’s about her realizing that she’s loved—that no matter what, there are people here for her. Whether it’s them, you, or me.”

Max glanced over, his expression softening just slightly. “She doesn’t have to do this alone. That’s what matters.”

“And she won’t,” Lewis replied firmly. “She just needs to know it.”

As the night wore on, Max and Lewis continued to watch, their silent observations only confirming what they already suspected. Franco and Lando were falling for her—hard. And while Max’s instinct was to shield her from anything that could hurt her further, Lewis’s approach was more grounded.

At one point, Lewis caught her glancing over, her expression a mix of gratitude and confusion as she seemed to pick up on the subtle gestures from the two drivers flanking her. He gave her a small, reassuring nod, silently promising her that she’d figure it out in her own time.

By the end of the evening, as the drivers began to disperse, Max caught her on her way out. “Hey,” he said, stopping her with a hand on her shoulder. His voice was steady, the kind of unwavering tone that made you listen. “You know I’m always here, right? You don’t even have to ask.”

She smiled softly, nodding. “Thanks, Max.”

Lewis, standing nearby, added with a gentle smile, “And if you ever need to talk, really talk, I’m here too. No pressure, no judgment. Just me.”

Her smile widened slightly as she looked between the two of them. “I know. And I appreciate it—both of you.”

As she walked away, flanked once again by Franco and Lando, Lewis glanced at Max. “She’s going to be okay,” he said confidently.

Max nodded, his gaze fixed on her retreating figure. “Yeah, she will. And if she’s not, we’ll make sure she gets there.”

[pixiesfz]

I know it’s not the normal thing you write so if you don’t want to then that’s fine! But I’d love a platonic lionesses fic (or just Lucy if you’d prefer) when r is the youngest player on the team and they’re all a bit overprotective of her

love this idea of a young teen lioness!!

plot: y/n's partner breaks up with y/n right before camp

warning: them pronouns are used for partner, and crying, I'm not sure what you should call a warning (also if anyone thinks they wouldn't cry like a bitch when they get broken up with is like wrong)

You stared at your phone as your tears dropped down on the text message that now clouded your brain.

You were sixteen you shouldn't expect your first relationship to be your one and only.

But you loved them.

You read the message again.

'It's really not working y/n'

'I think it's best if we break up'

'I can't deal with this anymore'

You wiped away the tears on your face. Long distance was hard and you were leaving every now and then for your soccer career, you thought they would supported you and they did at first.

Then you stopped ringing each other every night, you were sometimes late to their messages because of training and you even saw on your other friends stories of them at parties talking to other girls.

You tried to convince yourself it wasn't going to happen.

But now it has.

The doorbell went off causing you to jump and drop your phone on the floor "fuck, shit fuck" you grunted out as it hit your foot.

You remembered that Ella and Alessia had decided to pick you up to drive you to camp that day.

You quickly wiped the tears off your face and took a deep breath as the doorbell rang again and Ella's voice could be heard.

"Y/N! for god sakes are you deaf!"

It almost brought a smile to your face before you grabbed your suitcase and walked out of your room and to the front door and opened it.

Alessia was about to ring the doorbell again until you opened the door. "Finally" Ella yelled as you looked down and played with your air pod case.

"I uhm- yeah sorry I was on a call with mum" you said with a soft voice as you were already walking towards the car trying not to make eye contact with any of the girls who thankfully didn't think anything of it.

You were quiet the whole ride which weirded the two girls out usually, you would be talking their ears off and you would all sing along to some Disney song.

Even when you had arrived you quickly hurried off with a quick 'thanks' and went to get changed.

"Somethings off" Alessia said once you were out of earshot "no shit sherlock" Ella replied before they ushered over to Lucy and Keira who had also just arrived.

"Why's the little one running?" Lucy asked as she watched you with furrowed brows "somethings up she didn't talk the entire ride" Alessia explained and Keira's mouth dropped "your kidding" she said and then looked at the doors you had just walked through with worry.

You were in the rooms tying up your shoes when Leah and Beth walked in "hey chicken" Beth smiled and you nodded "Hey Beth" you relied softly, still with your head between your legs.

Leah looked at you weirdly before they walked through the rooms again and collected everyone to start training.

You weren't doing well, even when you first walked onto the pitch you looked into the empty stands where you once ran up to see your ex and hug them after a game-winning goal.

You opted to tell someone but you shook it off, you were just sixteen relationships aren't important and they definitely wouldn't care about it much.

But the more you battled your brain about it the more you kept on stuffing up weather it was a dribble, a tackle or a shot at goal.

It was Mary who noticed first "y/n you good?" she asked as you missed another shot "yeah" you replied as you fought away the tears that tried to slip out just by the goalkeeper asking about your feelings.

She nodded before looking at Leah who shot her brows at her.

You kept on trying to kick some goals and missing or taking easy shots and Mary caught them with ease. You knew what was wrong but you didn't think it would impact your playing skills.

It frustrated you and all the girls were sharing looks about your 'skills'.

When training finished you stayed on the pitch and watched as they all went in, leaving you alone.

You grabbed a ball harshly from the sideline and took it to the penalty line and kicked it.

miss.

kicked it again,

miss.

then again,

post.

You were growing so frustrated as tears now ran down your cheeks and you swore loudly at yourself. You walked up to the ball one more time to grab it but your hand stopped once you reached it as you thought about the texts once more this morning and you let out a choked sob.

You hadn't given yourself time to really cry yet and now it finally caught up to you.

You didn't know that some of the team hadn't left yet as they were worried about you but watched from the top.

"She was funny before training" Alessia explained to Leah who had her hands crossed whilst she watched you try and kick penalties "She didn't look at me at all when I said hi" Beth piped up and Leah tilted her head "She never misses" she muttered.

Lucy noticed the frustration growing on your face "Do you think something happened at home?" she wondered quietly before the girls looked back at her and took it in.

You weren't aware of their eyes on you as you dropped to the floor with the ball and kicked it as hard as you could near the goals which hit the net.

"fuck off" you cried out with your annoyance at the accidental goal and you rolled up your long sleeve to your palms and put them to your face which you cried into.

It wasn't anyone's fault it didn't work out, you tried to tell yourself but you didn't believe it.

You left to pursue soccer, you left them behind.

They were your first love and you're the reason they left.

You were too focused on your own thoughts to hear Lucy running over to you and you were too tired to pry away her arms which were picking you up.

"y/n/n" she said as she turned you around but you found yourself hugging the older girl in comfort. Keira came in next her heart dropping at the sight of you hugging Lucy in tears.

"Y/n what's wrong?" Lucy asked softly as she looked down at you, you sniffed and looked up "they broke up with me this morning" you said and watched Lucy's reaction.

She breathed in before hugging you tighter "it's going to be fine y/n, you'll get through this" she said before Keira beckoned the other girls to come over "we will help you get through this" she said before nodding her head at the girls which were now on the pitch walking towards you.

You let go of Lucy to look at the Lionesses who where worried about you.

"I'm sorry I was shit today at training" you apologized to Leah who scoffed "Oh shut up we only care about if you're okay" she told you and hugged you as well.

"I do have one question though" Lucy said from behind you "what?" you asked

"Can I find them and beat them up?"

"Lucy!" Keira said and smacked her arm which you laughed at.

"Thanks, guys," you said with a smile that wasn't fake, you couldn't believe you lucked out with a team like this.

[inthemomentth0ughts]

Does anyone else love the found family trope?

The idea that these people, people who you care so much about and consider your closest people, choose to be your family not out of any obligation but because they choose you.

You never have to worry about why they are nice or supportive, you just know they chose to stick by your side.

As someone who constantly questions every single relationship I have, both platonic and romantic, knowing that someone chose me just cause they cared for me that much and not out of any compulsion or obligation then I’d feel better about being myself.

If anyone is struggling with the people you’re surrounded with right now, I hope you find your chosen family <3

Disclaimer: You don’t have to agree or even feel the same way. I hope it helps some people put their feelings into words but it’s personal to everyone and not always a universal experience. This is just personal thoughts and in no way blaming anyone.

[yappielestappie]

Some lestappen thoughts in these trying times:

I think Max and Charles have a bond unlike anyone else in F1, even though they’re not that close of friends. I’d even go so far as to say they’re trauma bonded.

We all know Jos was downright horrible. It’s quite reasonable to assume that this was very hard on Max as a child, and that he felt alienated and alone (recall the quote of him saying it would’ve been nice to be able to play football with kids his age, sometimes). The only times he got to hang around with kids his age was on the race track. And who was always there? Always at the top? Always challenging him? Charles Leclerc.

Charles, meanwhile, had the opposite. He had a entire support system built around his racing career. He had both brothers and his godfather with him, and a fathers love to guide him through. In his teens, he lost both Jules and his father, and suddenly, the only consistent familiar part of racing that remainder from his childhood, would have been Max.

Meanwhile, while Charles was suffering this loss, Max was in Formula 1, in a top team, doing quite well, and had picked up a support system (albeit a likely limited one) in Daniel Riccardo. I think Charles was extremely jealous of Max when he also got to F1 in 2018. Their whole lives, they’d been opponents, and then Max beat him to F1 by 3 years & had everything Charles did not (a good seat, a father, an older F1 driver to guide him). I also think that’s why the Austria 2019 podium ended up being such a big conflict. It was a lot more than just a win to Charles. It was proving himself.

Now, they’ve both matured (Daniel helped Max and Seb helped Charles). They can look back on their karting days fondly, and they both recognize that the only real supportive part of their karting careers that still remains, is each other. All the hatred they had for one another has turned into support, and a kind of respect that very few drivers have for one another.

They have something special. It’s undeniable. There’s no other drivers on the grid that have history anything like them (Pierresteban could be discussed but that’s a whole mess). And now I think they’re old enough to realize they have something special.

Max genuinely cares about Charles. It’s obvious. Their racing is so much different to anyone else Max goes wheel to wheel with. Leclerc is the only driver I’ve ever seen him apologize to. The whole “Charlie I’ve got a space for you!” Thing is still blowing my mind. Max talks about Charles like he’s the only one Max actually wants to race, like Charles is the only person worthy of challenging him. He rates Charles over everyone else even when he fucks up “come on Charles man, too many mistakes” comes to mind.

And Charles is the same way right back, he just usually has a bit more shame. It’s worth noting that he speaks highly about a lot of other drivers, but Max always seems special. He compliments max out the wazoo sometimes. It’s clear that he sees Max as the very best - as the benchmark to beat. But more than that, he defends Max just like we do. Charles always supports Max’s moves on Lando, even when they’re clearly in the wrong. He supports Max’s aggressive racing, claims to LIKE it even, when Max is being constantly harassed by the fans and media.

There’s something between them. Some unspoken reason why they support each other like this and the only conclusion I can come to is that the memories they have of each other are inseparable from their memories of racing. They’ve been competing at the top since they were 6 years old. They know how to be rivals better than they know how to do anything else in the world.

I don’t know if they ever hang out outside of F1. I don’t know if we’ll ever see them interact again once Max retires. But I do know that they’ve shaped each other in a way that will impact them until the day they die. Every untainted memory from their childhoods is about each other. All the memories of loss and abuse are separate to their memories of each other. They are the only thing that remains.

The most fundamental part of racing for Max, is beating Charles. And the most fundamental part of racing for Charles, is beating Max. Everyone else on the grid is irrelevant- an obstacle. They are two halves of the same story and I think that’s more beautiful than any romance book I’ve ever read.

oh anon you are so absolutely right. listen for me, it's the fact that we can talk all day about lestappen and ship them or let our imaginations and minds go wild with w/e but fundamentally? at the end of the day? there is also substance to it - even any form of fandom aside, there are simply facts about them that make them such a beautiful dynamic. there is something so mesmerizing about the level on which they drive, perform, their talents and skills and the way they grew up with and around each other in a sense. the beautiful juxtapositions, the red strings of fate, the way their paths kept crossing and intertwining even before they raced each other again (suzuka being max' first proper f1 test drives and then jules etc.)... there is just something cosmic about them that (as stated in some previous post) almost boils down to THEM BOTH BEING LIBRAS which is still driving me insane. the balance. the way this just screams UNIVERSE just as partners in life, as twin flames, as two sides of the same coin, two weights on a scale... again, not even saying this is related to the fandom angle of romance. like you said it almost runs deeper than that. and i, personally, refuse to be normal about it the same way the two of them are never truly normal about each other.

[dynabolt]

🌕 moonstruck

[14.] Concert day

masterlist

<<back

next>>

taglist: @jkoowarre @bnhababe @daetko @spongeybrain @krak-jj @mystiriuminc @xn4vyl1c1ousx @fantrash @shotos-angelic-whore @amaiwrites @sleepydisorder

Denki was nervous, to say the least. Though, he had no reason to be because this certainly wasn’t his first time performing on stage, his guitar was perfectly in tune, his hair and makeup were flawless, and his friends—his band mates—were right by his side.

They were on in 15, but Denki couldn’t help but rehearse over and over again, a nervous charged energy buzzing through his entire body. He was perfect, of course, as he always was, but he couldn’t help but fear he might slip up somehow.

“You’re going to stress your hands before we even get on stage,” Kyoka warned softly. (for all she liked to joke on social media, back stage she calmed his nerves and supported him through his ridiculous worries more than anyone.)

“What if he’s not even here, and I’m freaking out for nothing?” She took his guitar from

his hands and laced their fingers together. “Or he is here and I fuck up and he thinks i’m super lame and never wants to talk to me again and–”

“Take a deep breath for me first,” she interrupted, squeezing his hands just the right amount. “If either of those things come out to be true, then he’s the loser who doesn’t deserve a single thought.”

Mina and Hanta whistled from the other side of the room. “Hell yeah!”

Denki took a deep breath. “Okay, no yeah. You’re right, yeah. Yeah okay, this will go fine. I’ve done this before!” He shrugged off his worry as if it hasn’t weighed anything and sat up straight. “Thank you.”

It was times like this where he wished he had a billion more words to express his gratitude to her because she helped him more times than she knew.

The show went smoothly after that. The stage greeted him like an old friend he’d grown to miss. He played as if he was born for it, and when he gathered the courage to search the crowd, he saw him.

Katsuki stood moonstruck by the barricade, his arms crossed but his mouth hung open and his eyes blown wide. His friends beside him danced to the music, but Denki paid them no mind. In fact, he didn’t look at anyone else in the crowd for the rest of the set.

Katsuki was lead back stage by a few bodyguards while fans around them whispered and gossiped about what may or may not be going on. Katsuki is sure a few of them snapped a couple pictures, but he couldn’t care less. His stomach felt like it was doing flips.

He had no reason to be nervous. He was never nervous! Or scared, for that matter! It was his whole brand. Besides, Denki was just a guy. He was just a guy.

As soon as he sees him, Denki breaks out into a huge smile. He runs over and dismisses the bodyguards with a quiet thank you.

Katsuki is at a loss for words. Denki was ten times prettier up close. His makeup was still in tact, almost flawless, but his hair was swept back by sweat and maybe residue gel. Katsuki couldn’t tell from

the pictures, or from his far distance from the stage, but Denki had freckles that decorated his cheeks like flecks of paint. He was pretty.

“So…” Denki starts the conversation for him. “You come here often?”

Katsuki wrinkles his nose in an attempt to hide his smile, and shoves him lightly. “You wish.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, always wistfully. “If I could I’d bring you on tour with me.”

“I’m not some groupie, y’know!”

“Of course, I know that! I just… Don’t want to be apart for that long. Now that we’ve met, I’m going to get greedy.”

Katsuki doesn’t like the way that made his heart skip a beat. He loves it because he too will become greedy. “It won’t be that long,” he tries.

“A few months…” Denki dramatically drapes himself over Katsuki’s shoulder. “Ugh! A few months too long!”

Katsuki rolled his eyes, his sass accompanied by a smile. “I’ll let you call me. Doesn’t matter what time it is.”

Denki shot up. “Really?! You will?!”

Katsuki shrugged as if his heart wasn’t hammering in his chest. As if he was familiar with this giddy feeling. As if this wasn’t something he’d been looking forward to for a long time. “Sure.”

“I will then! And when I get back, I’ll take you on a good date with my tour money. Promise!”

“Sounds good. I’ll look forward to it.”

[mintyys-blog]

steve rogers x dark! reader: innocent crush

WARNINGS: stalking, drugging, kidnapping, NONCON, DUBCON, talk of pregnancy, delusional reader, no like really she is insane, murder, mentions of blood

minors DNI

It started as an innocent crush.

You’d joined the Avengers as part of their tactical support team—a shy, brilliant analyst who preferred the quiet glow of computer screens to the chaos of the battlefield. Steve Rogers had been kind from the beginning, always offering a warm smile, always treating you with respect. He was the perfect picture of a gentleman, a leader, a hero.

You admired him. Loved him, even. At first, it was innocent: lingering glances during team meetings, daydreams about holding his hand, stolen moments where you thought, What if?

But admiration turned into obsession.

It started small. You found excuses to be near him—dropping by the training room to deliver reports, lingering in the kitchen when he made his morning coffee. Then, you started keeping track of his schedule, memorizing when he went for runs or when he hit the gym. You told yourself it was harmless. You just wanted to see him, to be close to him.

But soon, that wasn’t enough.

You sat in your dimly lit room, the only light coming from the computer screen. On it were surveillance feeds—grainy, black-and-white images from cameras you’d hacked into. One showed the living room, where Steve sat on the couch, reading a book. Another showed the hallway outside his room.

You knew it was wrong. But you couldn’t stop.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard as you watched him. His brow furrowed slightly as he turned a page, completely unaware of your gaze. He was beautiful, his features so perfect it almost hurt to look at him.

In the privacy of your mind, you allowed yourself to imagine what it would feel like to touch him. To have him look at you the way he looked at the others—with warmth, with affection. But even that wasn’t enough anymore.

You wanted more.

The opportunity came one evening when the compound was quieter than usual. Most of the team was out on a mission, leaving just you and Steve behind. You’d stayed late in the control room, claiming to monitor the mission feed, but in reality, you were waiting.

You found him in the gym, sweat dripping down his forehead as he finished a set of pull-ups. He noticed you immediately, his blue eyes lighting up as he gave you a small, breathless smile.

“Hey,” he said, grabbing a towel to wipe his face. “What are you doing here so late?”

You shrugged, feigning shyness. “I was working and thought I’d check on you. Didn’t want you to feel lonely.”

He chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. “That’s kind of you.”

You stepped closer, heart pounding as you looked up at him. “You do so much for everyone else. I just… I wanted to make sure someone was looking out for you, too.”

His smile faltered slightly, as if he sensed something off in your tone. “I appreciate that. But you don’t have to worry about me—I’m fine.”

“But who takes care of you, Steve?” you asked softly, your voice laced with something darker, something possessive. “You give and give, but no one ever gives back. Don’t you deserve someone who sees that? Someone who really knows you?”

His brows furrowed, and he took a small step back. “I… I think maybe you should get some rest. It’s late.”

“Why do you keep pushing me away?” you whispered, your voice trembling. “You’re always so kind, so gentle, but you never let anyone in. I’m here, Steve. I see you.”

“I’m not pushing you away,” he said cautiously, his tone soothing but edged with unease. “I just think—”

“No,” you interrupted, your voice rising. “You don’t think. You don’t see what’s right in front of you. I’ve been here all along, waiting for you, loving you. Why can’t you just—”

“Stop.” His voice was firm now, his expression hardening. “I don’t know what you think this is, but you need to take a step back.”

The rejection hit you like a physical blow, and something inside you snapped.

That night, you returned to your room, your mind racing. He didn’t understand. He didn’t see. But he would.

You sat at your desk, pulling up your screens again. Every movement, every word he’d spoken to you replayed in your mind, twisting into something darker. If Steve wouldn’t come to you willingly, you’d just have to show him how much he needed you.

You were done waiting.

Smiling to yourself, you began typing, your fingers flying across the keyboard. You had access to everything—the compound’s security systems, the team’s personal files. You could isolate him, manipulate the environment, make sure you were the only one he could turn to.

Soon, he’d realize the truth.

He belonged to you.

Steve sat across from Bucky in the common area, his brows furrowed, a distant look in his eyes. He had been replaying the encounter with you in his mind for the past few days, and something about it gnawed at him. Bucky noticed his friend’s silence and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“You good, pal? You’ve been quiet for a while.”

Steve hesitated before speaking. “It’s about someone on the team… one of the analysts.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “The quiet one? Always in the background?”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded. “I had a strange conversation with her a few nights ago. It felt… off.”

“Off how?”

“She was…” Steve trailed off, searching for the right words. “Overly attached. She started talking about how she’s been looking out for me, how no one else sees me the way she does. It was intense, and when I tried to step back, she got… upset.”

Bucky’s expression darkened slightly. “How long has she been working here?”

“Couple of months,” Steve replied. “Have you ever talked to her? Did she ever seem… strange to you?”

“Not really,” Bucky said with a shrug. “She’s quiet. Keeps to herself. But now that you mention it, she did seem to watch you a lot. I figured she just had a crush.”

Steve leaned back, sighing heavily. “It felt like more than that. I haven’t seen her since that night, though. Maybe she realized she crossed a line.”

Bucky frowned. “Just keep an eye out. People like that… they don’t just let it go.”

A week passed without any sign of you. Steve began to think maybe Bucky was right—maybe you had realized your behavior was inappropriate and decided to keep your distance. He let his guard down, returning to his usual routine.

That’s when you showed up.

Steve was in the workout room, finishing his last set of bench presses, when he heard the door open. He glanced up to see you standing there, clutching a bottle in your hands. Your face was a mix of nervousness and determination, and he felt a flicker of unease.

“Steve,” you said softly, stepping closer. “Can I talk to you?”

He sat up, wiping the sweat from his face with a towel. “Sure. What’s on your mind?”

“I wanted to apologize,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “For the other night. I… I realize I came on too strong. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Steve studied you, unsure of how to respond. “I appreciate the apology,” he said carefully.

“I brought you something,” you added, holding out the bottle. “A protein shake. I thought it might be a peace offering.”

He hesitated for a moment before taking it. “Thanks,” he said, unscrewing the cap. He took a sip, then another, before setting it down beside him.

You smiled, but there was something in your expression—something he couldn’t quite place.

“Thanks for understanding,” you said softly. “It means a lot to me.”

Steve nodded, but as he stood to put the bottle away, a wave of dizziness washed over him. His vision blurred, and his legs felt like they were made of lead.

“Wait…” he muttered, clutching the edge of the bench for support. He turned to look at you, and the innocent smile you’d worn moments ago had morphed into something sinister.

“You…” His voice was weak as realization dawned on him. “What did you do?”

You stepped closer, tilting your head. “I just gave you what you needed,” you said sweetly. “A chance to really understand how much I care about you.”

The world tilted, and Steve’s knees buckled. He hit the floor with a heavy thud, his vision fading as your chilling smile was the last thing he saw.

When Steve woke, the first thing he noticed was the cold metal beneath him. The second was the heavy restraints binding his wrists and ankles. He was in a cell—one clearly reinforced to hold someone as strong as him.

He tugged against the restraints, but they didn’t budge. “What the hell…”

“Steve,” your voice called softly.

His head snapped toward the sound. You were standing just outside the cell, your hands clasped in front of you, looking at him with an expression of pure adoration.

“Why?” he demanded, his voice sharp. “What is this? What have you done?”

“I had to,” you said, stepping closer. “You didn’t see it before, but I know you’ll understand. I love you, Steve. I’ve loved you for so long. And now, we can finally be together.”

Steve’s stomach churned. “This isn’t love,” he said firmly. “This is obsession. You’re not thinking clearly.”

“I’m thinking perfectly clearly,” you insisted, your voice steady. “I’ve watched you for months, Steve. I’ve seen how lonely you are, how no one else truly appreciates you. But I do. I’m the only one who can give you what you need.”

“Let me go,” he said, his tone softening. “This isn’t the way, okay? We can talk about this, but you need to let me out of here.”

You shook your head, your smile unwavering. “You’ll see. In time, you’ll understand. I’ll take care of you, Steve. I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted.”

His blood ran cold as you turned and walked away, leaving him alone in the cell. He tugged at the restraints again, anger and fear coursing through him.

He had to find a way out—before your twisted version of love consumed them both.

The compound was unusually quiet when Bucky realized something was wrong. Steve wasn’t at breakfast. That alone wasn’t alarming—he could’ve been on a run or training—but when lunchtime came and Steve was still nowhere to be found, unease began to creep in.

“Have you seen Steve?” Bucky asked Natasha, who was finishing a sparring session in the gym.

“No,” she replied, wiping sweat from her face with a towel. “Not since yesterday. Why?”

Bucky frowned, his gut twisting. Steve was a creature of habit. If he wasn’t around, something was wrong.

By the time the rest of the team gathered in the common area, Bucky’s worry had turned into full-blown panic.

“He’s gone,” Bucky said, pacing. “I checked his room, the gym, the grounds—nothing. He didn’t tell anyone he was leaving, and his phone is here.”

“Relax, Barnes,” Tony said, lounging on the couch with a coffee in hand. “It’s Steve. He probably went off to clear his head or something.”

“No,” Bucky snapped. “He wouldn’t just disappear without telling someone. And…” He hesitated, his mind flashing back to their conversation a week ago.

“And what?” Natasha pressed, her sharp eyes narrowing on him.

Bucky sighed, running a hand through his hair. “He told me about one of the analysts. He said she was acting… off. Obsessive. He was concerned.”

“Who?” Tony asked, suddenly sitting up straight.

Bucky hesitated. “The quiet one. The one who keeps to herself.”

Natasha’s jaw tightened. “Y/N.”

Within minutes, Tony was in the security room, pulling up camera footage from the past week. The team stood behind him, tense and silent, as he fast-forwarded through hours of mundane clips.

“There,” Natasha said, pointing at the screen.

The footage showed Steve in the workout room, drinking the protein shake you had given him. Moments later, he staggered, struggling to stay upright as you stood there, watching with a chilling smile.

“Jesus,” Bucky muttered, his fists clenching at his sides.

The team watched in horror as Steve collapsed, and you calmly bent down to check his pulse. Then, with a calculated precision that sent a chill down their spines, you dragged his unconscious body out of frame.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Tony said, his voice tight with disbelief.

“Rewind it,” Bucky said through gritted teeth. “Play it again.”

After reviewing the footage, the team sprang into action. Natasha and Bucky searched the compound for any sign of where you might have taken him, while Tony began combing through your files.

It didn’t take long for him to find something that made his stomach drop.

“Uh, guys?” Tony called, his voice unusually serious.

The team regrouped in the control room, where Tony pulled up your personnel file on the main screen.

“How did we miss this?” he asked, scrolling through pages of information.

Your records showed a history of instability—a stint in a mental institution for sociopathic behavior, incidents of manipulation and obsession that had been carefully buried under layers of false documentation.

“This has to be a mistake,” Natasha said, but even she didn’t sound convinced.

“It’s not,” Tony replied grimly. “This person shouldn’t have been anywhere near Steve, let alone working in the compound.”

Bucky slammed his fist against the table, his frustration boiling over. “How the hell did this slip through the cracks? We vet everyone!”

“Apparently not well enough,” Tony said, his voice sharp. “She manipulated her way in, and now Steve’s gone.”

The team worked tirelessly to track Steve down. They searched every inch of the compound, scanned nearby surveillance cameras, and even sent drones to comb the surrounding area. But you’d been careful. There was no trail to follow.

Days passed, and the tension in the compound grew unbearable. Tony spent every waking hour digging through your background, trying to find any clue about where you might have taken Steve.

“She’s a ghost,” Tony muttered, scrolling through your file for the hundredth time. “No family, no real friends, no connections. How the hell do we find someone like that?”

“We have to,” Bucky said, his voice low and dangerous. “She’s out there with him, and God knows what she’s doing to him.”

The room fell silent as the weight of his words sank in.

“We’ll find him,” Natasha said firmly, though even she sounded uncertain. “We have to.”

But as the days stretched into weeks with no sign of Steve, the team’s hope began to waver.

And somewhere far away, in a hidden room where no one could find him, Steve Rogers stared at the woman who had taken everything from him—and vowed to find a way out.

Steve sat against the cold wall of the cell, his wrists raw from the metal restraints. He had lost track of time—days, weeks, maybe more. His enhanced metabolism dulled the hunger and thirst, but he wasn’t sure how long that would last.

The sound of a lock turning pulled him from his thoughts. The heavy door swung open, and there you were, carrying a tray with a steaming plate of food. The smell hit him immediately—chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes, green beans. His stomach churned. It was one of his favorites.

“Good morning,” you said cheerfully, setting the tray on a small table in the corner of the cell. You always made a point to act as if this was normal, as if he hadn’t been kidnapped and restrained in a fortified prison.

Steve didn’t respond, glaring at you instead.

Your smile didn’t falter. “You’re still upset. That’s okay. I know this is hard for you, but you’ll see. I’m doing this for us.”

“For us?” Steve asked, his voice low. “This isn’t love, Y/N. This is delusion.”

You frowned, stepping closer. “Don’t say that, Steve. You don’t mean it.”

“I do,” he said firmly, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours. “You need help. This isn’t healthy. Whatever you think this is—it’s not real.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “You’re just confused right now. But I can help you see the truth.”

You busied yourself arranging the tray, placing the utensils neatly beside the plate. “I made this for you. I know it’s your favorite,” you said, glancing at him with a soft smile. “I’ve been practicing, making sure I get everything just right. When we’re together—really together—I’ll cook for you every day.”

Steve didn’t answer, his jaw tightening as he watched you.

“You’ll see,” you continued, sitting down across from him on the other side of the cell bars. “We’ll have a beautiful life. A big house, a white picket fence. I’ve even been thinking about names for our kids.”

His stomach dropped, dread pooling in his chest.

“You’ll be such a good father,” you said dreamily. “I can already picture it—playing catch in the backyard, teaching them how to ride bikes. We’ll have three kids, I think. Two boys and a girl.”

“Y/N, stop,” Steve said sharply, his voice cutting through your reverie.

But you ignored him, lost in your fantasy. “I’ve already picked out the names. James, after Bucky, of course. Sarah, for your mom. And the youngest… Daniel. It has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

Steve’s breath hitched. This was worse than he thought.

You smiled at him, your eyes soft with adoration. “I know you’re scared. Change is always scary. But I promise, I’ll take care of you. We’ll be so happy together.”

“You’re delusional,” Steve said, his voice firm. “This isn’t love, Y/N. Love is about trust, about choice. You took my choice away. You’re holding me here against my will. That’s not love—it’s control.”

Your smile faltered for a moment, but you quickly recovered. “You’ll see,” you said, your tone sweet but with an edge of determination. “You’ll understand once you’ve had time to adjust. This is what’s best for you—for us.”

Steve stared at you, his mind racing. He needed to find a way out, and fast. The longer he stayed here, the more twisted your fantasies became.

You stood, picking up the tray. “I’ll give you some time to eat and think. I’ll be back later, and we can talk more about our future.”

As you walked out of the cell, humming softly to yourself, Steve leaned back against the wall, his jaw tight and his heart pounding.

He wasn’t just fighting for his freedom anymore—he was fighting to keep you from completely losing yourself in the dangerous illusion you’d created.

The days had become a blur. Each one blending into the next as Steve tried to stay focused, tried to stay strong. But his resolve was weakening. Your delusions had become more suffocating, your presence an ever-looming reminder of the nightmare he was trapped in.

He had been quietly biding his time, waiting for an opening, trying to push you to the edge without provoking an escalation. But today… today was different.

You came into the cell with that familiar, calm smile, carrying a tray with food, as you always did. But something in Steve snapped. Something inside him broke, and he couldn’t pretend anymore.

He had endured the talk of your “future,” the way you spoke of their children, your plans for a life that never had a chance to exist. But now, with the quiet, insistent dread building up inside him, Steve made a decision. He wasn’t going to play along. He wasn’t going to give in to your twisted fantasy.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice hoarse but steady. “I can’t do this anymore. This isn’t real. I’m not your future. I’m not your—”

Before he could finish, you slammed the tray down on the table with surprising force. Your eyes, which had always been soft and adoring, darkened with fury.

“How dare you,” you hissed, taking a step toward him, the calm facade cracking. “You think you can ruin everything? You think I’ve given you everything I’ve done for nothing?”

Steve stood his ground, fists clenched at his sides. “I haven’t ruined anything. You’ve made this up. You’ve trapped me in your delusions, Y/N, and I’m not going to be your pawn.”

Your expression twisted into a mix of disbelief and rage. “You don’t get it. You can’t ruin this, Steve. You can’t destroy the future I’ve built for us.”

Before he could respond, you pulled out a small, metallic device from your pocket. A hum filled the air, and in an instant, Steve’s body jerked violently as an electrical shock coursed through him. His muscles locked up, and he fell to his knees, a cry of pain escaping his lips.

“You—” he gasped, trying to recover from the shock, his limbs trembling. “What the hell are you doing?”

“You’re ruining everything!” you screamed, pacing in front of him. “I’ve given you everything—love, care, the future you don’t even deserve—and you’re throwing it all away. You’re hurting the mother of your children.”

Another surge of electricity. This time, it sent Steve to the floor, his vision swimming with dizziness. His body couldn’t keep up with the shockwaves crashing through him.

“Please…” he gritted out through clenched teeth. “Stop… stop this.”

“You want to hurt me, don’t you?” You stepped over him, looking down with cold eyes. “You think you can make me feel like I’m the one who’s wrong? You think I don’t know what you’re trying to do?”

You knelt down beside him, lowering the device. The pain was fading, but his muscles still felt tight, his body exhausted from the assault. You cupped his chin gently, as though nothing had happened, as though everything were fine.

“I’m doing this for us,” you whispered. “For our family. For the life I’m going to give you.”

Steve’s heart raced as he tried to catch his breath, the taste of copper in his mouth. “I don’t want this life. I want to get out of here, Y/N.”

You stood, your expression cold, hardening. “You think I’ll let you go?” you spat, the anger returning in full force. “You’re mine now. Forever.” You kisses him, he didn’t return your affection, and you stood up.

There was no love in your gaze now—just obsession, just control. You turned and walked toward the door, leaving Steve on the floor, weak and disoriented.

As the door clanged shut behind you, Steve lay there, breathless and broken, the weight of your twisted love pressing down on him. He had to find a way out—before it was too late. Before you killed him.

Steve’s mind raced as he lay against the cold floor of his cell, still recovering from the shock, but now, a glimmer of hope flickered in the back of his mind. The restraints—loose. The cage—unlocked. For some reason, the mechanisms that held him had failed. He didn’t know how, but he wasn’t about to waste the opportunity.

His body ached from the fight, the electrical shocks, and the mental toll of being trapped. But he couldn’t stay here. Not anymore.

He slowly rose to his feet, using the wall for support as he carefully moved toward the door. The cell was dark, but the light from the hallway shone through the small crack beneath it. He knew he had to be quiet—careful.

Upstairs, he could hear faint humming. It was soft, familiar. It was her. The sound of you making his lunch. The same routine, day after day. You were upstairs, completely unaware of his freedom.

He crept into the hallway, moving stealthily toward the stairs. Every step was deliberate, every muscle tense, ready to bolt if needed. He could feel the adrenaline pumping through him, but he remained focused. This was his chance. He had to make it count.

But just as he reached the stairs, he paused, hearing something that made his blood run cold.

Your voice.

It wasn’t directed at him. It was… softer, gentler. You were talking to someone—no, something.

“I made your favorite today,” you cooed. “Chicken and potatoes. You like the peas, don’t you? Just like you used to.”

Steve’s brows furrowed in confusion. He crept closer, inching toward the corner where he could peer into the kitchen.

And then he saw it.

Dolls. Rows of them, set up at the small kitchen table. You were sitting across from them, carefully placing tiny plates of food in front of them. You smiled sweetly, speaking to them as if they were real.

“You’re all going to be real one day. I’ll make sure of it,” you whispered, your voice heavy with devotion. “And then we’ll all be together. I’ll have you with me forever.”

Steve felt the knot in his stomach tighten. This wasn’t just some harmless fixation—it was delusional. This wasn’t the woman he had known at the compound, the woman who had talked to him like she cared. This… this was something far darker, far more disturbing.

He stood frozen, too afraid to move, listening as you continued, your voice eerily calm and loving.

“I’ll make you all real,” you repeated. “Just like I’ll make him real… you’ll all be here with me, one big happy family.”

His pulse quickened, and the urgency to escape surged through him again. This was the moment. He didn’t have much time. You were heading downstairs with a plate of food in your hand, still humming the tune from earlier. He turned quickly, his heart pounding, and made a break for the door.

But as he slipped through the dark hallways, trying to remain unnoticed, his movements weren’t as silent as he thought. A faint sound reached his ears—footsteps.

Before he could turn to see where the noise was coming from, he felt a presence behind him.

“You think you can leave?”

He froze.

You were standing at the top of the stairs, a twisted smile on your face. “You think I wouldn’t know? I’m always watching, Steve. Always.”

His heart dropped to his stomach, and in that instant, the chase was on.

Steve broke into a sprint, but you were faster than he anticipated. He heard your voice calling to him—pleading, but it quickly morphed into something darker. “Don’t make me do this, Steve. I only want what’s best for us. You’ll understand soon.”

The sound of your footsteps grew louder, and before he knew it, you were upon him.

With surprising strength, you tackled him to the ground. Steve grunted as he hit the floor, trying to push you off. But it was like fighting against a force of nature. You had him in a vise grip. He didn’t want to hurt you, even after everything— you were a civilian.

“Please,” Steve gasped, struggling to break free, his mind racing. “Let me go. This isn’t you!”

“You think I’m going to let you go after all I’ve done for you?” you whispered, voice tight with restraint.

In the chaos, Steve didn’t see the needle until it was too late. The tranquilizer darted into his neck, and his world blurred as his limbs went heavy, his thoughts foggy. He fought it, trying to stay awake, but it was no use. The darkness closed in on him quickly, and he collapsed, unconscious.

When Steve awoke, he was back in his cell. His wrists and ankles were locked tighter than before, the restraints even more advanced and secure. He tried to move, but the heaviness in his body kept him pinned to the cold floor.

His head throbbed, and his vision swam as he looked around. And then, there you were.

Sitting in front of him, your hands folded neatly in your lap. You stared at him with a mixture of sadness and anger—an expression he hadn’t seen before.

“Why did you do this, Steve?” you asked quietly, tears welling up in your eyes. “Why do you have to make this so difficult?”

You leaned in closer, your breath catching. “You were supposed to be happy. You were supposed to understand that I’m doing this because I love you. Why can’t you see that?”

Steve’s heart twisted in his chest, the words he had for you stuck in his throat. He couldn’t reason with you—not like this.

“Please,” he whispered, voice strained. “Let me go. This isn’t love. This is… this is obsession.”

You didn’t respond at first, staring at him with a hollow look in your eyes. Finally, you spoke, your voice cold and sharp. “I’ll make you see, Steve. You’ll see that we belong together. No one else can have you.”

You walked closer, coming to saddle him. You leaned down to kiss him, he again, refused, turning his head. With his arms and legs pinned he couldn’t do anything but lay there. You grind against him, he groaned. You smirked, coming to unzip his pants, Steve’s eyes widened. “Y/N! No don’t!” He panicked. You smiled at him, “oh, is this your first time? Don’t worry, I’ll do all the work, love”

Love.

What a sickening thought. Your actions were even more sick as you started to pump his cock with your hand, attempting to get him hard. Naturally, it worked, and you grew excited at this. “This means you like me too, right?” Steve was at a lost for words, stock taking ahold of him. He tried to block you out in his mind. Ignoring how good it felt when you started to ride him. He tossed his head to the side, no no no. This couldn’t be happening. You moaned, going faster. Your bare breasts were bouncing in his face and he had a hard time not looking. He didn’t want this, that’s what he kept telling himself.

“Ah steve—“ you moan again, soon cumming on his cock. You didn’t stop though. Not until he did, inside you. Eventually he did, against his wishes and you kissed his face. “You did so well, honey, maybe next time you won’t be all tied up—“ you giggled. Lifting yourself off him and fixing your clothes, you then look at him, “oh my, what a mess” she bends down and cleans his cock with her mouth, savouring the mixed flavour of them both. When she was done, she fixed his boxers and zipped back up his pants. She stood up again, hand on her stomach, “hopefully we will have a little one joining us soon,”

Steve’s heart sank further as you stood, turning to leave the cell. Before you shut the door behind you, you looked at him one last time.

“I’ll be back soon,” you said softly. “And we’ll try again. I’m sure you’ll come around.”

The door clicked shut, and Steve was once again left in the dark, trapped. But this time, something was different. He wasn’t just fighting to escape. He was fighting for his sanity. For his life.

And somehow, he knew that getting out wouldn’t be easy. But he had no choice. He couldn’t stay here—not with you.

The team had been scouring every available lead for days—weeks, really—and each time they hit a dead end. Steve’s disappearance had become a nightmare they couldn’t shake. They were all frantic, trying to piece together any fragment of information they could find, but they were coming up short.

Then, late one evening, as Tony sat hunched over his computer, he received an encrypted message from an anonymous source. It was short, to the point, and the information was chilling.

“I know where she’s keeping him.”

Tony’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, processing the message. Whoever it was knew something, but who? A glance at his screen confirmed the sender’s identity: an ex-boyfriend. Someone who had known you in the past.

It was Bucky who first spoke up, leaning over Tony’s shoulder as he read the message. “What’s the catch? Who is this guy?”

“His name’s Aaron,” Tony said, typing furiously as he cross-referenced the info. “He used to date her. Guess she didn’t take the breakup well. Claims she almost killed him when he said he didn’t love her. Sounds familiar, huh?”

The team exchanged uneasy glances.

Natasha’s voice was quiet but sharp. “So why is he reaching out now? He could’ve easily kept his mouth shut.”

Tony pulled up the rest of the details from Aaron’s records. “Well, that’s the thing. He says he’s been on the run from her for years. He didn’t want to get involved, but after everything that’s happened with Steve… he’s trying to help. He claims he knows exactly where she’s keeping him.”

Aaron had provided them with a location: a house in the middle of nowhere. Hidden deep in the woods, away from civilization, surrounded by miles of nothing. The kind of place no one would find unless you knew exactly where to look.

Bucky was the first to break the silence. “We have to move fast. If she’s been hiding there, Steve might be running out of time.”

“I’ll make arrangements for a team,” Tony said, his voice clipped. “But there’s something else. Aaron’s warning us—it’s not just a house. It’s a trap, too. He claims she’s been building it, making sure no one can get to him.”

Wanda frowned, her brow furrowed with concern. “So he knows about her plans, but he couldn’t help him before?”

Tony grimaced. “Aaron was afraid. Afraid of what she could do to him if he spoke out. He says he tried to leave, tried to get away, but she found him. Almost killed him. So now he’s just… trying to make things right.”

“I don’t care what his reasons are,” Buckys voice came from across the room. “We have to get to him before she does anything else. Let’s move.”

“Let’s get this crazy bitch.”

A few hours later, the team was ready. Aaron had provided as much information as he could—maps, coordinates, anything that might help them get there. He’d even mentioned that there was a specific route to approach, one that would give them the element of surprise.

As the Quinjet’s engines roared to life and they prepared for takeoff, Bucky looked at Tony with a hard expression.

“You think we’re ready for this? For what’s waiting for us out there?”

Tony didn’t look up from his console as he adjusted the coordinates. “We’ll be ready. But there’s one thing we need to keep in mind—if we get to that house, we can’t underestimate her. She’s dangerous, Bucky. You’ve seen what she’s capable of.”

“More than you know,” Bucky muttered darkly, his mind wandering back to the days before everything changed.

The team sat in tense silence as the Quinjet soared through the night, the hum of the engines the only sound. Natasha and Wanda exchanged worried glances, both sensing that they were walking into something far more treacherous than they could imagine.

When they finally landed near the coordinates Aaron had provided, they were met with nothing but desolation—a stretch of dense forest, the trees whispering in the wind, but no sign of life.

Bucky gripped his gun tighter, his eyes scanning the perimeter. “Stay sharp. This place gives me the creeps.”

Tony, ever the pragmatist, motioned for everyone to fall in line. “Let’s move. We get Steve, and we get out. No messing around.”

They moved through the forest with precision, each step closer to the house feeling like they were being drawn into something far darker than they anticipated. The eerie quiet weighed on them, and soon they could see the house in the distance—isolated, nearly camouflaged by the surrounding trees.

“This is it,” Natasha said, her voice steady despite the chill running down her spine. “This is where she’s been keeping him.”

Wanda’s face tightened, and she nodded. “Be careful. She’s not going to make it easy.”

They approached the house cautiously, ready for anything, but no one could have predicted what awaited them inside.

Meanwhile, inside the house, you were preparing. Your mind had been racing all day, making sure everything was perfect. The meal you had made for Steve was on the table, waiting for him to eat, just like all the others. You hummed softly to yourself, wrapping yourself in the comforting thoughts of your future with him.

But you knew, deep down, something was off. You could feel it. And soon, your senses would catch up to you. You would realize that the house—your sanctuary—was about to be invaded.

The team was coming. But you wouldn’t let them take him. Not without a fight.

“One day, you’ll understand, Steve,” you whispered to yourself. “One day, you’ll see… this is meant to be.”

The air was thick with tension as the team split up inside the house. Tony, Wanda, and Clint were heading deeper into the structure, searching every room for Steve, hoping to find him before it was too late. Meanwhile, Bucky and Natasha were stationed at the front of the house, keeping watch over the exit, their senses heightened. But neither of them expected what would happen next.

You stood in the corner of the dimly lit hallway, your breathing steady despite the chaos in your mind. You had known this moment would come—the moment they would find you, the moment they would come for Steve. But you were prepared.

In your hand, hidden beneath the folds of your dress, you gripped the remote. Your heart beat fast in your chest, but you didn’t waver. You couldn’t afford to.

As Bucky and Natasha walked cautiously down the hallway toward you, you stepped out of the shadows, placing yourself squarely between them and the rest of the house. The movement was swift, calculated. You smiled sweetly, but there was no warmth behind it.

“Stay back,” you warned, your voice steady, but with a hint of something more dangerous beneath it. “You’re not taking him. Not without a fight.”

Bucky’s hand went instinctively to his gun, while Natasha’s eyes narrowed, assessing the situation. You knew they were trained to handle nearly any situation, and if it came to a physical confrontation, you’d be outmatched. But you weren’t planning on fighting them.

“I don’t want to hurt either of you,” you said, raising the remote in your hand. “But I will if I have to.”

Natasha didn’t flinch, but Bucky’s gaze hardened. “What are you playing at?”

You could see the doubt flicker in their eyes, the uncertainty, and you seized on it. “I have a bomb,” you said with a chilling calmness. “Around Steve’s neck. If you don’t let me go, I’ll push this button, and he dies.”

Bucky’s eyes shot wide open, his hand twitching toward his sidearm. “You’re lying. There’s no bomb.”

But you just smiled, knowing full well that they wouldn’t take that chance. “Do you really want to risk it?” you asked softly. “You don’t understand. I love him. You think I’d do this if I didn’t?”

Natasha’s voice was sharp. “You’re sick. You can’t keep doing this. He doesn’t love you.”

You stepped forward slightly, keeping the remote between them and yourself. “I’m doing this for him,” you said, your voice wavering for a split second, but you regained your composure. “He’ll understand soon enough. And we’ll be happy together.”

Bucky didn’t buy it. “You’re delusional,” he growled. “Let Steve go, and we’ll make sure you get the help you need. But this ends now.”

You could feel your grip tightening on the remote, your fingers burning with the cold weight of it. But you didn’t let go. Not yet. “I can’t let you take him. You think you can just waltz in here and take him away from me? After everything I’ve done?” Your voice cracked for a moment, a flash of desperation slipping through. “This is my last chance. Don’t make me take it.”

Natasha and Bucky exchanged a brief look. Neither of them wanted to call your bluff, but the reality of the situation was undeniable. They had no idea if you were lying or not, and if Steve’s life was truly at risk, they couldn’t afford to take that risk.

“Listen,” Natasha said slowly, trying to reason with you. “You don’t have to do this. Let him go, and we’ll help you. This isn’t the way to make him love you.”

Your face twisted in pain at her words. “You don’t understand. I can’t just let him go. He is mine. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep him.”

Before either of them could react, you took a step back, your thumb hovering dangerously over the button. “Don’t make me do this,” you warned, the remote now clearly in their sight.

Bucky’s hand was still on his gun, but Natasha, ever the strategist, knew they needed a different approach. She stepped forward cautiously, her voice calm but firm. “Please, don’t do this. If you kill him, you’ll never have the chance to make him love you. You’ll just destroy everything.”

You hesitated. Just for a second. The tiniest crack in your resolve.

But then, the door at the other end of the hallway burst open, and Tony, Wanda, and Clint stormed into the room. They froze when they saw the scene before them—the standoff, the remote, the desperate look on your face.

“Y/N,” Tony called out, his voice hard. “Put it down. Now.”

You whipped your head toward him, eyes wild. “Stay back!” You shouted. “I’ll kill him! I’ll kill him if you don’t let me go!”

Tony’s eyes flickered to the others. Clint took a step forward, trying to keep his voice even. “Y/N, just calm down. You’re not thinking straight. We can help you, but you have to let him go. Now.”

But your focus was locked on Natasha and Bucky. You had no intention of letting Steve go—not now, not ever. “He’s mine!” you screamed. “I won’t lose him. Not to any of you!”

In that split second of distraction, Bucky acted.

With lightning speed, he disarmed you, knocking the remote from your hand. You barely had time to react before Natasha was on you, holding you in place, using her years of combat training to subdue you.

“No!” You screamed, struggling in her grip, but it was no use. The fight had drained from you as the weight of your actions hit you.

Tony quickly moved to Steve’s location, praying it wasn’t too late. Wanda was already working her way through the house, her senses attuned to any hint of Steve’s presence.

Bucky stood over you, breathing heavily, his jaw clenched. “You don’t get to decide what happens to him,” he said coldly. “This ends now.”

You looked up at him, a mixture of rage and despair in your eyes. “You don’t understand. You don’t get to take him from me.”

But Bucky wasn’t listening. He knew there was no reasoning with you anymore. It had gone too far.

“Where is Steve?” Tony shouted from down the hall, urgency in his voice.

You didn’t answer. You just sat there, seething, as the team moved to find Steve. The nightmare was far from over, but they were finally taking control.

The atmosphere in the house was thick with urgency as Tony, Wanda, and Clint moved quickly through the darkened hallways, their footsteps swift but cautious. They couldn’t afford to waste another moment. Steve had to be here somewhere.

Tony, his mind racing, scanned the rooms as they passed. “Keep your eyes peeled. She’s a step ahead of us, and I don’t want any surprises.”

Wanda nodded silently, her senses alert, trying to feel for any trace of Steve’s presence. It wasn’t easy—there was an unnatural heaviness in the air, like the house itself was trying to keep its secrets hidden. But Wanda’s powers were her advantage. She narrowed her focus, her eyes glowing faintly as she reached deeper into the walls.

“There’s something… something below,” Wanda said quietly, her voice steady but filled with an edge of concern. “A basement. It’s buried under the house.”

Clint wasted no time, rushing ahead with his bow at the ready. “Lead the way.”

The basement was tucked away in the farthest corner of the house, a dimly lit room with thick stone walls. As the group approached, Wanda stopped, her hand raised in warning. She could feel the shift in the air—the heavy weight of the silence, the presence of someone trapped inside.

Tony’s heart pounded as they made their way down the stairs into the cold, damp basement. Then, they saw him.

Steve was there, restrained in a metal chair, his hands shackled tightly to the arms. His face was pale, but his eyes—those familiar blue eyes—were still full of fire, even after everything he’d been through. His clothes were torn, his hair matted, and there was a dark bruise on his cheek, but he was alive.

Wanda and Clint were the first to move toward him, and Clint wasted no time cutting through the restraints with his bow’s arrow.

“Steve,” Tony called, a mixture of relief and anger in his voice. “You okay?”

Steve’s eyes fluttered open, and he blinked as if the last few moments had been a blur. His gaze landed on Tony, and a weak but genuine smile crossed his face. “Tony… I knew you’d come.”

Tony approached quickly, inspecting the shackles, his mind racing. “We’ve got you, Steve. Let’s get you out of here.”

Wanda hovered nearby, her powers already at work, healing what wounds she could. “You’re going to be okay. Just breathe, Steve.”

But as soon as his restraints were gone, Steve’s expression darkened, his gaze hardening. He glanced toward the stairs, as if anticipating something—or someone. “Where is she?” he asked, his voice hoarse but with a cold edge.

“She’s in custody,” Clint replied, his eyes narrowing. “She’s not going anywhere.”

Steve’s breath hitched in his chest as he processed what that meant. He stood shakily, using Tony’s shoulder for support, but his resolve was unwavering. “You need to take her down. Now. She can’t hurt anyone else.”

Tony nodded, leading the way out of the basement, his mind focused. “Don’t worry. She’ll face the consequences of her actions.”

Back upstairs, the atmosphere had changed. The sound of muffled footsteps echoed as Bucky, Natasha, and the others emerged from the living room, dragging you toward the entrance. Your eyes were wild with fury and fear, but there was an underlying sense of calmness in your face—like you had already resigned yourself to the inevitable.

Tony’s jaw clenched as he saw you being hauled to the door. “You,” he spat, his voice dripping with disdain. “You’re going to pay for everything you’ve done.”

You glared at him, but your expression faltered when you saw Steve standing by the door, looking stronger than you ever thought possible. There was no hint of fear or sympathy in his eyes. Only determination.

“Steve…” you whispered, a tremor in your voice. “You can’t let them do this. You don’t understand. I was trying to protect you.”

Steve took a step forward, his posture straight, but his tone was cold. “You never protected me. You’re sick. You’ve hurt people. You almost killed me.”

Your lips curled into a bitter smile, a twisted glimmer of hope still clinging to your expression. “I did it for you. You’ll see. One day, you’ll understand.”

Bucky stood behind you, his voice unwavering. “This ends now. You don’t get to control anyone anymore.”

“Take her to the cells,” Natasha ordered firmly. “And make sure she’s secured properly. We’ll deal with her later.”

As the team moved to leave, you were shoved into a van, hands cuffed behind your back. The drive to the facility was long and silent, the weight of your actions settling in. It was only a matter of time before the law caught up with you. Before the world saw you for what you truly were. A monster.

When you were thrown into the holding cell, the steel door slamming shut behind you, it felt like the last of your illusions shattered. You stared at the cold walls of the cell, the silence now deafening.

Steve was gone. The life you’d envisioned, the future you’d hoped for, was gone. And it was all the avengers fault. They couldn’t mind their own business, they couldn’t let you be happy.

The door to the cell rattled, and you looked up, seeing Bucky and Tony standing in front of the bars.

“You’ll never get away with this,” Tony said, his voice cold as ice.

“Your actions speak louder than your excuses,” Bucky added, his gaze unwavering. “And you’ve hurt too many people to get out of this unscathed.”

You wanted to lash out, to scream, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you slumped against the wall of the cell, the weight of your failure pressing down on you.

“You have no idea what you’ve done,” you whispered to yourself, more than to them. “I only wanted him to love me.”

Tony glanced at Bucky before speaking again. “You can keep telling yourself that. But you’ve crossed a line. There’s no coming back from this.”

“You’ll pay for this! YOU CANT KEEP ME HERE! STEVE IS MINE, YA HEAR! Mine!” You sob, “he was supposed to be mine forever…”

As the door to the cell closed, you were left alone with your thoughts, the nightmare you had created finally catching up to you. The world would soon know your true face. And there was no hiding from it.

The years had passed since Steve had been freed from the grips of the woman who had held him captive, twisted in a delusional fantasy of love. In that time, he had made incredible progress. The nightmares had dulled, the overwhelming sense of panic had subsided, and he was slowly learning to live again. Therapy had been a key part of his healing, and his therapist, Dr. Emma Carter, had been instrumental in helping him regain control over his life.

But that morning, something felt different.

As he sat in the waiting room, anxiously fidgeting with the cuffs of his sleeves, the buzz from the TV in the corner caught his attention. His heart dropped into his stomach as the words on the screen sent a shockwave through his chest:

“BREAKING NEWS: Escaped Convict – The woman responsible for kidnapping Captain America, Y/N, has reportedly escaped from a maximum-security facility. Authorities and the Avengers are currently on high alert as they continue to search for her.”

Steve’s blood ran cold. His mind instantly flashed back to the dark days in that underground cell, her twisted smile, her grip on him. He’d thought she was gone for good, locked away and forgotten.

But now—she was out there again.

His hand trembled as he reached for his phone, dialing Dr. Carter’s number. He needed to talk. He needed to make sense of this, to process the wave of panic that threatened to drown him.

“Steve?” Dr. Carter’s voice was calm and grounding, always a safe harbor. “What’s going on?”

“I… I just saw the news,” he said, his voice shaking. “She’s out. She’s escaped.”

Dr. Carter paused for a beat, the gravity of the situation settling in. “I understand. Take a deep breath, Steve. I’m here for you. How about you come in? We can talk about it.”

“Okay,” he said, his throat tight. “I’ll be there in an hour.”

Steve arrived at her office, his steps heavy as he walked down the corridor. His mind raced with memories of the horrors he’d faced at her hands. What had she planned now? What did she want from him?

As he pushed open the door to Dr. Carter’s office, a strange scent hit him. The unmistakable smell of blood.

His heart stopped.

The office was dimly lit, the blinds closed. A single desk lamp illuminated the corner of the room, but what caught his attention first was the unsettling sight of Dr. Carter’s desk, covered in bloodstains. Papers were scattered around, but it was the body slumped in the chair that stole his breath away.

Dr. Carter, her face pale and lifeless, was slumped in her chair. Her eyes wide, frozen in a vacant stare. Her throat had been slashed, the crimson pooling around her neck.

Steve’s breath hitched, his pulse racing.

But before he could react, a voice, sweet and eerily calm, spun him around.

“Hello, my love,” she said, the words dripping with an unsettling familiarity. “Long time no see.”

Steve’s body went rigid, his muscles locking into place as he turned slowly to face her.

There, in the corner of the room, was her—Y/N. The woman who had once held him captive, her eyes now glowing with a dangerous, almost triumphant light. She was sitting in the chair across from Dr. Carter’s desk, the chair slowly spinning as she faced him, her lips curving into a chilling smile. Her appearance was different—more disheveled, but her presence was as overwhelming as ever.

His mind raced. How? How did she get out? His thoughts barely had time to catch up as he felt his stomach churn, his hands trembling.

“You…” he croaked, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re supposed to be locked up. How—?”

Y/N leaned back in the chair, her hands casually resting in her lap, a look of pure adoration in her eyes as she watched him. “Oh, Steve, you wound me,” she purred. “You know, it took a lot of work to escape. A few well-placed distractions, some influence over a few key people… and here we are.” Her gaze softened, the sickly sweetness in her voice contrasting with the bloodstained scene around them. “I’ve missed you. I’ve waited so long for this.”

Steve felt his chest tighten. He had thought the worst was behind him. That he could move on, that he could escape her grip. But now, it seemed that she was here to drag him back into her world of twisted obsession.

His fists clenched at his sides, his voice shaking but defiant. “This isn’t over, Y/N. You’re not going to get away with this.”

Y/N laughed softly, the sound almost melodic, though laced with something darker. “You’re so funny, Steve. Always trying to stop me. But I’m not going anywhere this time.” She stood up, slowly, deliberately, as if savoring the moment. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us… about the future we’ll have together. I’ve made plans, Steve. Big plans. You and me, a life we deserve, a future I’ve already mapped out.”

Steve took a step back, trying to remain calm, but his body was on high alert. He couldn’t let her get too close. “This isn’t love. You never loved me. You’re sick, Y/N.”

Her face twisted, hurt flashing in her eyes, before she quickly masked it with a forced smile. “You don’t understand, do you?” she said, her tone soft but insistent. “I’ve done everything for you. All of this—this life—is for us. You’ll see soon enough, Steve. Once we’re together, you’ll understand what I’ve done for you.”

The air in the room felt suffocating as she took a slow step toward him, a predatory glint in her eyes. Steve’s instincts screamed at him to run, to fight, but he couldn’t let her drag him back into her world of madness again.

“Stay back,” he warned, his voice hoarse. “This ends now, Y/N. I’m not coming back to you. I won’t be your prisoner again.”

She stopped in her tracks, the smile faltering. “You will, Steve. You have to. We’re meant to be. You’ll understand, eventually. You’ll come to me, just like I’ve always known you would.”

Steve’s stomach twisted. “You’ll never make me love you. Never.”

Y/N’s eyes flickered with a flash of something darker—anger. “You will,” she said quietly, her hands twitching at her sides. “You just need time. But you’re mine, Steve. You always have been.”

The tension in the room was palpable, the silence hanging heavy as both of them stood there—locked in a battle of wills.

And Steve knew, with sickening clarity, that this wasn’t over. Far from it.

[blackaquokat]

Hi Kat~

I hope you're doing well! You've graced my inbox several times, and more often than not, your asks give me little bursts of inspiration for snippets.

If you're comfortable sharing, I was wondering—how would your MC make Chris/Jade or the parents suffer? Or, if you're not up for answering that, I’d love to hear some details about your OCs!

Either way, I hope you're having a great day/night, and I’m looking forward to seeing you in my inbox or the comment section!

LEA!!! HOLY SHIT, HI!!!

My god, this is such an honor, I'm not even joking!

Okay, so when I first mentioned my MCs, I was still using previous OCs from other IFs , but now I think I've OFFICIALLY adjusted them into true Love & Leases fashion, so I'll do a post about them later with picrew images and everything, but in the meantime--

Peridot "Dot", my Cam-mancer (formerly Genevieve), would not go in with the Intention of making anyone hurt. It's easier for her to just cut them out of her life. BUT, that doesn't mean they won't be seeing her around. Dot posts on socials fifty times more than she ever did before, because suddenly it's like this entire weight is off of her shoulders and well, Cam takes too good of pictures not to post when they're finally together.

Dot honestly just decides to live well with the knowledge that her family and Chris will never be allowed to touch her existence again. That being said. Doesn't mean Dot won't be passive aggressive. They might get, "You are Not Invited to the Wedding" Invitations in the mail. Jade might get a piece of jewelry in the mail: something that she gave to Dot years ago because she didn't like it and though it was more to Dot's "taste", and it was something that had been given to Jade by Chris or her parents. so when that comes in the mail at a strategic time, it won't be pretty.

Jumana, my G mancer (formerly Quinn) on the other hand, has Fuck Around time. If she hadn't been so shell-shocked when finding Chris and Jade doing the Deed, she would have been grabbing inconvenient shit right there with Cam. Would have grabbed Chris's favorite shirt/underpants, cut them up, and then mailed them back. Would arrange friendly dinners with ALL her family's friends, be on her absolute best behavior when spending time with them (which she's not known for with Jade and her parents) so that her family looks bad for their decisions to support Jade and Chris.

She would find the time to tell Chris at one point that they were a rebound from G. Would remind Jade that if Chris cheated on Jumana, what would stop them from doing the same to her down the line? Or reminding Jade that the spotlight can burn, so be careful where she seeks it. And well. Jumana doesn't exactly keep what happened a secret. So that spotlight might burn Jade faster than she expects.

Anyway, those are my initial thoughts. Now that I have their characters more fleshed out, I'm excited to work with them more to fit the story! I'll make sure to tag you when I make the intro post for them!

[tangelotime]

Hello! I'm Syd, and I'm tired! In a nutshell, I’m disabled, can't get a job, but also can’t get on disability either, so I have no way to support myself. All I want is to finally move forward with my life, take care of my health, and not have to deal with my abusive family, but without help, I have no way to do that. I’m multiply disabled; I’m autistic and have PTSD and a torn glute, which, thanks to medical neglect, means I rely on a wheelchair and a cane to get around. My doctors also suspect POTS and MCAS, as well as other forms of dysautonomia. I’m in and out of the hospital getting tests and my referrals are getting referrals. On my own, I just can’t afford this forever and I want a diagnosis. The house I am renting is falling apart. My landlord refuses to weatherproof it, and the resulting mold leaves me in full body pain, ruining my health even more. Unfortunately, this is the only place I can get with my awful credit score. Anyone with an abusive family knows how tough it is to survive without that support system. Christmas used to be a time I could spend with the people who loved me most, my grandparents. They wanted me taken care of when they passed away and so they left me an inheritance in a trust fund so it wouldn’t get me kicked off disability. Unfortunately, I was kicked off of disability because of neglect on my father’s part, which dissolved the trust. All the money immediately went to my brother and left me with nothing. My brother refuses to help me no matter how much I’ve asked. I’ve contacted law enforcement, attorneys and social services, all to no avail. For three years I had to take large loans out to survive and rely on abusive roommates, which contributed severely to my mental health issues. I’ve managed to move out of that situation now and with my boyfriend but he can’t work enough hours to afford what we need and take me to my many appointments. We can’t afford to regularly put food on the table.This Gofundme is my last lifeline. $20,000 would let me and my partner stop worrying about how to afford rent and food for a while, put some money towards a motorized wheelchair, and pay for the specialist visits I need. It would buy us some rest. It has been a long, exhausting journey, and there are things I’d like to do that aren’t fighting for my life. I am an artist, and I’m working on a book I’d love to publish some day. Donate to a disabled trans person and help me live long enough to put my mark on the world.

My friend Syd is having a hard time right now and could really use the donations! It's really really hard for them to ask for help so I'm doing it for them lol. They have three hospital visits coming up this week and could use a hand.

If you don't feel like donating for nothing, they also have commissions over on their bsky account!