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forzalando · 5 months ago

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you were in my dream

request: random playlist shuffle request from @maplesyrupsainz!! maddie - i already told you this but i wrote this because i love you hahaha and maybe i will add carlos back into the list of drivers i write for. tbd. we will see what the people think. i hope you like it, love you lots💛💛 song: you were in my dream by laur elle summary: you have a not-so-friendly dream about your best friend. enough said. pairing: carlos sainz x f!reader wc: 1.5k warnings: cursing, descriptions of steamy makeout, 17+

Carlos was, to put it mildly, very confused.

He had passed you a total of 17 times today while running around for media duties, (yes, he was counting) and each time you turned away from him as if he was a complete and total stranger.

You weren’t in a mood – he could see you chatting with Charles, briefly hugging Oscar, laughing with Lando and Max, all of which, admittedly, left a piercing pain in his chest and a disgusting jealous feeling swirling in his stomach.

After another hour without a word from you, Carlos made his way round to every person he’d seen you speak to that day – hoping that they might have some insight into what was going on.

Lando, of course, smiled as he saw his friend approaching, but soon noticed the frown on his face as he walked closer.

“Is she angry with me?” Carlos exhaled, not even a hello or how are you for his close friend.

“Is who angry with you?”

“Y/N! She has been ignoring me all day – I saw her with you, with Charles, with Oscar, with every person around. But me? It’s like I don’t exist.”

“She didn’t say anything specifically but now that you mention it, she did seem a bit flustered when I asked if she knew where you were.”

“Ay dios, what did I do? I walked her to her room last night after dinner and everything was perfectly fine!”

Meanwhile, you were hiding in the back of the Ferrari garage, a fairly secluded spot that you’d discovered earlier in the day. Successfully? Not at all – it only took Alexandra three minutes to find you sitting in a corner with a Ferrari jacket haphazardly thrown over your frame. She’d tried to coax you out, but only when Leo wiggled his way into your lap did you show any signs of life and break your silence to coo at the perfect little dog.

“There she is,” Alex smiled. “Now, tell me and Leo what you are doing hiding over here all by yourself?”

You groaned and handed Leo over to his Mama, using your now free hands to hide your heating face. “Oh god, I should’ve just stayed at the hotel. I thought I would be fine, this is so embarrassing.”

“Que s'est-il passé? You didn’t seem unwell at dinner last night, did you get sick in your room?”

Alex’s frantic mix of French and English and her worried expression made you feel even more guilty – this was dramatic, so beyond dramatic, but you were in a downward spiral and maybe she was just what you needed to yank yourself out of it.

“No, I…I had a dream,” you muttered. “It’s so stupid, but I don’t know what to do! How to act! I’m genuinely freaking the fuck out, Alex.”

“A nightmare? Are you afraid? Oh, Y/N, that’s not stupid but you’re safe here. Do you want me to go get Carlos? He’ll want to know what’s going on – ”

“NO,” you shouted too forcefully. “No, please don’t go get him, I can’t even look at him right now. You have one dream about your best friend and suddenly you can’t function.”

“You dreamt about Carlos? I don’t understand, what did you – ” Alex’s voice trailed off, a look of realization crossing her face.

“Oh, oh,” she smirked. “Y/N, you naughty girl!”

“It wasn’t even like that, we were just making out on his couch, ok heavily making out on his couch, and I can’t look at him without my stomach flipping or fearing I’m going to start drooling. He’s one of my closest friends, I’ve never thought about him like…that.”

“Oh come on,” she rolled her eyes. “Never? Not once? In three years of friendship?”

“Maybe once or twice,” you mumbled guiltily. “God, what’s wrong with me? I can’t stop thinking about it – his arms, his mouth, everything, it felt so real.”

“Is now a good time to tell you that I think you have feelings for him and you’ve been pushing them down? Because you think he doesn’t feel the same? And this dream is just everything spilling over?”

Your mouth fell open and you scrambled for a retort – anything to say back to her to refute her claims, but all you could do was sigh and shake your head.

“I’m so pathetic,” you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Mi sol, don’t say such things,” a familiar voice chimed from behind you. Before you could get to your feet to make an excuse and bolt, Carlos plopped down next to you. “Now, no more running away from me, ¿bueno?”

“I’ll find you later,” Alex called out sweetly as she hurried away, Leo’s ears flopping comically as he barked back at you.

The heat of Carlos’s body next to yours made your stomach turn, his arms so close to you, almost as close as they were when they were wrapped around your body, holding you tightly against his chest, heavy breathing in your ear and –

“Y/N? Are you listening?” He nudged his shoulder against yours lightly, ripping the mental image away from you.

“Yes, I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

“I want to know why you’ve been avoiding me. Why are you so angry with me?”

Your face fell instantly – guilt creeping in and taking over from the other feelings. “Oh, Carlos, I’m not angry with you. I had a dream and you were in it but it’s unimportant, I was being…ridiculous. I’m sorry, mi querido.”

Carlos brightened at the use of the term of endearment – not uncommon at all between the two of you and a sure sign that everything was fine.

“You don’t have to apologize. If I made you uncomfortable in your dream and you needed space, that is perfectly fine. I just wish I would have known before I panicked.”

“No, no, you didn’t make me uncomfortable, you never could.”

“Well, then what was I doing?”

You swore the garage grew ten degrees hotter – a bead of sweat forming on your neck where hickeys would have been if your dream had been as real as it felt. A heavy swallow and a deep exhale, you looked everywhere but at him, suddenly intensely interested in the spare tires to your right.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his breath hot on your neck, his hand cupping your chin to turn your head gently towards him. “Dime.”

All it took was one quick flicker of your eyes down to his lips for a smirk to spread across his face. Before you could even breathe, his nose was bumping against yours and the closeness of him made your head spin.

He kissed you so softly, gently, his hand cupping your face and his thumb gently rubbing back and forth. So different from what you’d shared in the depths of your mind the night before but surpassing it exponentially in every conceivable way – dreams would never come close to this, never compare to the reality in front of you.

A shout from somewhere in the garage caused the two of you to jolt apart, the sudden realization of where you were sinking in quickly.

“How did I compare?” He asked cheekily, rising to his feet and offering a hand to pull you up after him.

Your head was still spinning - your chest heaving from a fairly innocent kiss, god, you were wrecked. Carlos, however, took your silence as the exact opposite - doubt crept into his mind, worried that he’d read everything wrong and let his own feelings guide his actions.

His sweet, doe brown eyes searched yours for something, anything, to ease his panic. And then, you smiled - wide, bright, blinding, and lovesick.

“You were perfect,” you finally answered, a sigh of relief leaving Carlos at the sound of your voice. “But, I would’ve preferred the dream setting. Comfortable couch, no prying eyes, no Ferrari polo, among other things.”

“Other things?” Carlos pressed, a wicked grin on his face.

“Yeah, you told me you loved me,” you whispered.

His lips morphed into a soft smile - gone was the playfulness and tension, replaced by tenderness, adoration, and something saccharine. You felt his fingers brushing against yours and reached out to let him grasp your hand in his, the warmth of his palm grounding you in this moment.

“I can do that,” he admitted bashfully. “But, not here. You deserve more than that. When I’m done we can go back to the hotel, grab dinner, and…talk.”

You smirked, mimicking his tone from before. “Talk?”

“Among other things.”

The sound of your laughter followed Carlos as he walked towards his team, urging them respectfully to get him through the rest of his day as quickly as possible.

#carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz #f1 x reader #formula 1 fic #f1 fic #f1 #cs55 #cs55 x reader #carlos sainz jr #Spotify

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sageyxbabey · 8 months ago

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Hospital Food | COD x Reader

MDNI

Summary: Your ex-husband (the biological father of your daughter) shows up when said daughter is admitted to hospital. Your current partner (and your daughter) put him in his place.

aka: stupid man gets verbally wrecked by a 17-year-old girl and a SAS soldier. Inspired by the time my stepdad and i roasted my bio dad.

For @the-californicationist 's Nameless Challenge! This means you have to guess which of the delicious war criminals I'm writing about below. (This has inspired a series, so you'll find out who I was thinking of when the second one comes out. ;) )

WC: ~700 words (oops, forgive me cali)

Pairing: f!reader x tf141 member (but who? 👀)

Your ex-husband stood at the foot of his biological daughter’s hospital bed, watching her tap salt out of the little sachet onto a piece of buttered bread. His face was full of condescension, and you knew yours was full of barely contained disgust as you stared at him. God damn the child support agreement that required you to tell him when she was admitted to a hospital. At least you had otherwise full custody of her, you’re sure your ex would’ve been murdered by now if you’d been forced to see him semi-regularly – either by you or your wonderful (deadly, military-trained) partner who hated the man in front of you almost as much as you did.

God, you wish he was here right now. Unfortunately, he was wonderful enough to have gone down to the cafeteria in search of lunch for the both of you – and something sweet to sneak back in for your little girl. He spoiled her rotten, and it made you love him more every time he did.

“That’s a lot of salt,” your ex rumbled. If looks could kill, the stare your 17-year-old daughter levelled him with would’ve evaporated him where he stood.

“Yes. It is,” she spoke.

Tap tap tap, she resumed shaking the sachet.

“They put salt in bread when they make it. White bread is about 3% salt,” he said. As if there was some important point your daughter was missing.

“I know. I’ve made bread before.”

Tap tap tap.

It was taking every fibre of your being not to laugh with sheer joy and vindication as your daughter, the blood of your ex-husband, so casually eviscerated him in the middle of this tiny white room.

“Which is to say, you don’t need to be adding salt to it.” You didn’t think the man could sound any whinier. You were about to step in, but your daughter let out a deep sigh beyond her years (definitely picked up from the soldier who shared your home) and threw the empty salt packet onto the bed tray.

“Tell me, why shouldn’t I eat that much salt?” Her arms crossed in front of her, your ex-husband looked to you for help. He would get none.

“Because… it makes your body retain fluid and raises blood pressure–”

“Correct. I am in this hospital because I have low blood pressure caused by a low volume of fluid in my blood. They give me the salt packet on purpose. I am prescribed literal salt tablets,” she shook the bottle in the man’s face, “because I need to raise my blood pressure up to normal levels.”

Silence. Blinking.

“So I am going to eat this bread because it is what the doctor ordered.” Her head snapped to you, with a chaotic glint in her eye only teenage girls could possess. The next words out of her mouth would stay with you until your dying breath;

“Hey, Mum. When’s Dad coming back?”

You could not fight the grin that spread across your face, the elation jumping in your stomach. A quick glance at your ex-husband’s sour face made it clear that your daughter’s point had struck true – You are not welcome here. I do not need you. I have a real father where you failed.

You opened your mouth to reply, “He’s–”

“Right here, love!” The warm, gravelly voice of your partner filled the room, your daughter’s eyes lighting up with his presence. He stopped to press a tender kiss against your cheek, passing you a toasted sandwich, before he made his way to stand over the shoulder of your precious daughter.

“And I got you something special,” he whispered playfully, “Don’t tell the nurse.” He pulled a poppy seed muffin out of the bag he was holding and placed it on the bed tray in front of her.

“Sorry mate, who are you?” Your partner turned and cocked his head at your ex.

Your man knew exactly who the snivelling creature across from him was. Your boyfriend was just deciding to be a little shit, and it was one of the sexiest things you’d ever seen him do.

“Dad, this is Marcus. You know, the man who got Mum pregnant with me?” Your daughter’s voice was poorly disguised venom.

“Oh, right! Of course. I suppose I should thank you for your part in creating my wonderful daughter.” He stretched a hand out to your ex-husband who, for once in his life, made the smart choice to shake it and give some poor excuse for why he was needed elsewhere.

As soon as he was out the door, you had your arms around your lover, pressing endless kisses to his cheek as your daughter laughed.

“Did you hear what I said, Dad?”

Your partner leaned down to hug the girl – his girl – tightly. He grinned.

“Every fucking word.”

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I LOVE MY STEPDAD SO MUCH HE'S MY REAL DAD and my mother and he are truly couple goals. I was on the phone with him the other day when I asked if he remembered this happening. he let out the most fatherly cackle of pure, shit-stirring joy I've ever heard. It was magnificent.

forgot the TAGLIST: @frogtowne @teenagellamaangel @universitypenguin

#cod x reader #cod mwii #ghost x reader #gaz x reader #soap x reader #price x reader #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john price x reader #WHO COULD IT BE?#you decide...#imagine any of them you like #BECAUSE ALL WILL BE REVEALED NEXT TIME MWAHAHA #cali's nameless challenge #cod mw fanfiction #cod mw2 x reader

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crowsofdarkness · 22 days ago

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Soulmates: One Shot

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Trope : Soulmates

Word Count: 6,945

Content Warnings: language, angst, mentions of death/murder, mention of drinking.

Summary: Growing up, reader had been told stories about how you would dream your soulmates memories, something you never believed in. That was until someone new moves in next door and nightmares plague you every night.

A soft sigh left my lips as I finally stepped foot into my apartment. After the long day of law school and a double bartender shift, I was beyond exhausted. I tossed my bags and keys on the kitchen table and fell onto the sofa with a loud groan.

“Ugh, I wish someone was here to massage my feet,” I groaned to myself.

With a quiet meow, my black cat named Salem, jumped up on my stomach and purred his demands for ear scratches.

“As much as I love you Salem, I don’t think your paws are big enough to massage out the knots in my feet from today.” I smiled.

After a meow of disappointment, he jumped off my lap and retreated to his chair in the corner of the living room. I let out a disgusting loud yawn as I made my way towards my kitchen, hoping I could find some form of leftovers that I could call dinner.

“Nothing like cold pizza for the third night in a row,” I said while taking a large bite.

The silence throughout my apartment was deafening. It was only Salem and I for the past six years and I wouldn’t change it for anything.

A relationship wouldn’t actually be the worst thing in the world but between law school five days a week and shifts at the bar four days a week, I barely had enough time to go grocery shopping or clean my apartment. On my off days, I spent it either showering or sleeping for half of the day.

My mother used to tell me of an old folk lore that her family used to believe while she was growing up. ‘Soulmate dreamers.’ She claimed that two people who are destined to be together dream of each other's memories; soulmates. My parents were soulmates but I still couldn’t believe the folk tale. Every single night I wouldn’t dream, just a blackness. It had been like that every night since I turned eighteen and as the years passed, I started to give up hope.

“Buck, be careful with that. GOD DAMNIT!”

Squinting my eyes at the sudden crash coming from the hallway, I ran over to my door and slowly opened it. Two men stood outside my door, both bent at the knees picking up a pile of books that seemed to have fallen out of a box. With the sound of my locks coming undone, the two men looked up and with a sheepish smile, the blonde nodded towards me.

“I’m so sorry if we woke you.” His lips turned down in a small frown underneath his beard.

I shook my head. “No, you didn’t. I just heard a crash and some yelling.”

“Yeah butterfingers over here let the box slip,” the blonde nodded towards the other man.

He had longer hair than the blonde and his beard was shorter than the blondes but something about his eyes froze me in place. Under his long sleeves, I could see his muscles tensed as he lifted up a large pile of books.

“Uh-moving out?” I questioned after forcing myself to look away from the muscles.

“In,” the blonde set down another box before extending his hand. “Steve.”

My hand was small in his and the roughness of it scratched my palm.

“Y/N.”

I looked over to the other man but noticed that his back was towards me. He walked down the hall a few steps before stepping through an open door into the apartment right next to my own.

“Buck’s not that great with new people,” Steve defended.

My brows quirked up. “Buck?”

“Bucky or James. But I call him Buck,” Steve informed.

“Well, Steve, what brings you and Bucky here to Brooklyn?” I questioned while leaning against my open door frame.

“Retirement.”

“Aren't you guys a little young to retire?” I joked.

He shrugged with a laugh. “We started our careers really young. Now we’re looking for something quiet.”

“Well you guys are in luck because nothing happens here. It’s a pretty boring part of town.” I said.

“Eh, doesn’t seem that bad. The neighbors are pretty cute,” Steve smirked.

My cheeks blushed warm and after a quick nod, I pointed over my shoulder. “Goodnight Steve.”

Steve returned my smile. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

My body felt trapped as if someone was sitting on my chest while my arms and legs thrashed around my bed. I tried to speak, to yell, but my voice was in a vice grip as the nightmare forced me to listen to the screams and cries of strangers. Flash images of a sniper and a man dressed in black faded in and out before completely fading to black.

I awoke in bed with a scream and looked around my room. The fear that I felt from those strangers in my dream ate away at me, something I couldn't shake; no matter how hard I tried. My heart hammered against its cage in my chest as I took deep breaths to calm myself down.

“What a freak nightmare,” I groaned while rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

Falling back to sleep was a distant memory and I had to force myself out of bed as another fun day of school all day with a closing bar shift right after standing in front of me.

“Salem, do you want breakfast?” I questioned my feline companion as I came out of the bathroom, dressed for the long day ahead of me.

After a quick scratch to Salem's head, I grabbed my bags and was out the door, large coffee in hand.

“Morning, Y/N.”

“FUCK!” I cursed, almost dropping the large cup and placing a hand over my chest.

Steve stood in front of me, hands up in defense. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”��

I let out a small breath of relief. “Oh, Steve. It’s okay, it's not your fault. I didn’t sleep much last night so I’m a little jumpy.”

“That would explain the extra large coffee,” Steve smiled.

“I wouldn’t survive law school without it,” I admitted.

Steve’s eyes raised. “Law school, huh?”

“Yeah, I’m in my final year. I’ve got exams today and Monday so I need all the coffee I can consume.” I smiled proudly.

“Well, I’ll let you get going. Have a good day, Y/N.” Steve gave me a small smile.

“You too, Steve.”

“You’re late.”

Giving a sheepish grin to my manager, I said a quick apology while throwing my bags underneath the bar. “My exam ran long. But I can stay late if you need me.”

A laugh erupted from my manager, Kim. “Nice try, Y/N. You’re already closing.”

“Well it's the thought that counts,” I joked.

It was well past six in the evening and the bar was jam packed, wall to wall with bodies getting ready to watch the football game. Friday nights were my favorite nights to work; a lot of people getting drunk and literally throwing their money towards me.

Yet I also hated working Friday nights; the countless men throwing vulgar sayings towards me and trying their hardest to get my number.

The next couple hours blurred together as I made drinks and small talk with many of my regulars. I had my back turned to the only two empty seats alongside the bar as I had an all too familiar conversation with one of my regulars, Becky.

“Y/N, you’ve got to get out there and meet someone!” She slurred while raising her beer. “How long has it been since you’ve gone on a date?”

“The only dates I get are the ones with you and my homework,” I smiled at her.

“Here’s your chance! Look at the two new guys at the other end of the bar. I haven’t seen them here before,” she hiccuped.

Looking over my shoulder, I found myself smiling at the familiar blonde and brunette who had their eyes glued to the drink menu.

Excusing myself from Kim’s rant about how she would like to “take them to bed”, I stopped in front of Steve and Bucky with a large smile on my face.

“Well look who we have here,” I sang while placing my forearms on the bar and leaning over towards them.

It was hard to hear in the packed bar.

“I didn’t know you worked here,” Steve smiled.

Bucky remained quiet, eyes still glued towards the drink menu so I kept my attention on Steve.

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Steve.” I reminded him. “So what are we drinking?”

Steve and Bucky had a quick and quiet conversation before Bucky nodded behind me.

“Whatever you have on tap is fine.”

I couldn’t help but freeze and blink at the sound of his voice. Something about it rang a large bell in my brain but I couldn't put a finger on what.

“Uh, yeah sure. Of course.” I nodded.

My hands shook as I poured their drinks, trying to calm my shaking hands. I let out a few breaths before returning back to them, a smile playing at my lips.

“Here ya go. Did you want to keep your tab open?” I asked.

Steve nodded. “Yeah we’re not in a rush.”

I nodded back and as I placed their drinks in front of them, I noticed Bucky went to grab it with his left hand that was covered with a leather glove. Not wanting to stare and be weird, I coughed while throwing a thumb over my shoulder.

“I’ve got to make my rounds. Let me know if you guys need something.”

A quick ten minutes passed by as I refilled many drinks and small talked before I decided to check on Bucky and Steve. I noticed, however, that Steve’s stool was empty and Bucky was staring at the TV behind the bar.

The same weird feeling filled my veins and I took a deep breath hoping that whatever this feeling was that it would disappear soon.

“Need a refill?” I motioned towards his almost empty glass.

“Sure, thank you,” He nodded.

“Would Steve like one?” I asked.

“Yeah, he only stepped out for a call.”

After filling up their glasses, I placed it back on the bar. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

I could tell by the way his shoulders tensed and the way he kept his hands grasped together on the bar that he did not want to have a conversation, he wanted to be left alone.

As the night went on, I couldn’t help but think of why Bucky wore the glove on his left hand. Maybe he was missing fingers? Or maybe his left hand gets colder than his right?

“Christ Y/N, you don’t even know him and you can't stop thinking about him,” I muttered to myself as I wiped down the counter.

“Thinking about who?” Kim asked as she came up from behind me.

“Can you not give your best bartender a heart attack, please?” I exasperated while clutching my chest.

“Could you be thinking about the two men sitting at the end of the bar?” Kim raised her eyebrows in a suggestive way.

Giving a quick glance over her shoulder, I noticed that Steve and Bucky were still in their same spots, slowly nursing their third beer. They both looked like they were not in a rush to leave.

Not that I was complaining.

“They’re my new neighbors,” I admitted. “I can’t help but wonder about them.”

“That’s a threesome I would love to be a part of.” Kim giggled.

Shaking my head with a laugh, I motioned towards the stack of clean cups that were just placed on the bar. “I have work to do, Kim.”

As I stacked the cups on the bar, I sensed someone sitting in the seat in front of me. I didn’t have to look up to see who it was, I could feel the creepiness ooze out of him.

“What do you want, Mike?” I asked, not stopping what I was doing.

“Go out with me,” Mike slurred while finishing off his beer.

I shook my head. “You ask me out every Friday night and I always say no. When are you going to get it?”

“C’mon. You’re saying no because you don’t know what you’re missing. Just one date.”

“The reason why I always say no is because of your pregnant wife that waits for you to come home every night,” I informed while finally meeting his gaze.

“She doesn’t have to know,” Mike grabbed my hand, a little too rough for my liking.

“I’m only going to say this once, let go.” I stated, voice firm and not faltering.

“Just one kiss?” His lips puckered as he started to lean over the bar.

“She already said no. If you need help understanding, I’d be happy to help.”

My eyes landed on Bucky who was now standing next to Mike and the way his shoulders tensed under his leather jacket made my stomach tingle. Mike dropped my hand before sauteing away, embarrassed he was turned down yet again.

“Thank you,” I said to Bucky. “He comes in every Friday and still won’t take the hint I’m not interested.”

Bucky nodded with a small smile. “Anytime.”

We fell in silence as our eyes locked and the blue color of his eyes rang that bell in my brain again. Something about those eyes were so familiar but I couldn’t tell how.

“Um, did you and Steve need anything?” I asked, hoping to ease the sudden tension between us.

“We’re ready to close the tab,” he stuttered for a moment, obviously feeling the sudden weird feeling that wrapped around us.

A quick second later, I handed him the receipt with a quick thank you. “I’ll see you guys around?”

Bucky nodded and handed back the receipt signed before walking out of the bar with Steve, who gave me a quick wave goodnight.

I paid no attention to the name on the receipt, the $100 tip clipped to it immediately taking my attention.

“Mom, I still have one more semester before I graduate. We shouldn’t be planning a party yet. Yes, I passed all of my exams. I have a two week break before classes start up again. No, I think I’m going to stay home and enjoy some me time. Oh god, no mother I will not go ask my neighbors to hang with me! I really wish I never told you about them. Alright, I’m hanging up now, love you.”

With a loud sigh, I ended the call and tossed my phone onto the couch with my body following. I had finished my last exams the other day and after passing them all, I decided to celebrate with a two week vacation from work. Just Salem and I in our apartment watching crappy movies and eating crappy food.

I didn’t want to tell my mom that another reason why I wanted to stay home and recoup is because of the nightmares I was having. Every night for the last two weeks, I dream of people screaming and dying. The terrors kept me up and I was amazed that I was able to finish this semester without failing.

“Where is that cat anyway?” I questioned while standing up from the couch. “Salem, baby, where are you?”

After looking in all of his favorite hiding spots twice, it was when I walked back into the living room that I finally noticed the front door was open just a tad; enough for him to walk through.

I was on the phone with my mom when I returned back from my morning shift at work and must have forgotten to shut the door behind me.

“Fuck,” I cursed while running out into the hall. “Salem?!”

A door clicked open and Steve was in the hall, a worried look on his face. “Hey, everything alright?”

Letting out a shaky breath, I shook my head. “My cat got out and I can’t find him anywhere.”

“Is he black?” Steve questioned while leaning against his doorframe.

“Yeah, have you seen him?” I asked, hopeful.

Steve only nodded and motioned for me to follow him.

Once in his apartment, I found myself breathing a large sigh of relief at the sight in front of me. Salem was lounging on their couch cuddling with a beautiful white, long haired cat.

“It seems like Salem found himself a girlfriend,” Steve laughed.

“I didn’t know you guys had a cat,” I said while picking up Salem and giving him love.

Steve motioned me to sit on the couch, which I happily obliged. “Alpine is Bucky’s.”

“Well, she’s adorable. If Salem goes missing again, I’ll know where to look.” I giggled as Salem jumped from my lap and laid next to Alpine again. “Thank you for finding him.”

“Would you like anything to drink?” Steve questioned.

Immediately I shook my head. “No, I should probably go. We’ve imposed enough.”

I said the last part towards Salem mostly and went to leave but Steve shook his head.

“You’re not. Salem is welcome here anytime. You too.”

Steve’s small smile warmed my heart and I found myself lounging into the couch. “Thank you.”

We made small talk for a while, him asking how my semester finished at school, and I swore I never told him about finishing but waved it off. I’ve been so tired lately that I could have easily forgotten to tell him.

“So how are you and Bucky liking Brooklyn?” I asked.

Steve leaned back into the couch and rested his arm across the back of it. “We both actually grew up here. We left for work and decided to spend the rest of our days here.”

Something about the way that Steve said put a little fear and hesitation in me. Even with his long hair slicked back and his full beard covering his face, something about him rang some sort of familiarity in me.

“So,” I started, deciding to change the subject hoping the fear would disappear, “Where is Bucky?”

Steve’s brows perked at my interest in his roommate's whereabouts. “What, I’m not good enough for the company?”

A loud giggle left my lips. “Eh, you’re alright.”

We both shared a loud laugh and suddenly, the front door opened and a very sweaty Bucky entered the apartment. My eyes locked in on his broad chest that the muscles were defined in his extra tight Henley. The long sleeves encased his large arms and when I noticed the leather glove on his left hand again, I quickly averted my gaze back to his face. To my surprise, he was doing the same to me.

His eyes took in my tired appearance and when they rested on Salem next to me, a small smile came to his lips. “You just can't stay away from Alpine, can ya buddy?”

My eyes doubled in size. “He’s been here before?!”

Bucky walked into the kitchen and took a long swig of water before nodding. “A few times now. I found out he walks through the fire escape and comes in through the open window in my bedroom.”

I looked at Salem, appalled that he was having these little rendezvous.

“So that’s what you’ve been doing while I’ve been gone?” I asked him.

His face said everything he would if he could talk.

Absolutely zero fucks given.

“I’m so sorry that he keeps on bothering you guys.” I apologized to them.

“It’s alright, we don’t mind him.” Steve informed as Salem jumped into his lap.

The clock on the wall let me know that I was here for over an hour. “Well, I’ll let you guys get back to your night.”

Salem followed suit as Steve walked us to the door, showing us out. Bucky remained in his place in the kitchen and I felt his gaze on me as I walked out.

“No, please!”

My body was locked into place on my bed, the nightmare pressing down on me.

“I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t kill me!”

Soft whimpers escaped my closed lips as hands wrapped around a throat, cutting off their airway.

The scene changed to a large room with a chair in the middle. Screams were heard bouncing off the walls, screams of pain and despair. A man dressed in an old army uniform stood in front of me, a language I had not known coming from his lips. He only spoke ten words.

Longing.

Rusted.

Seventeen.

Daybreak.

Furnace.

Nine.

Benign.

Homecoming.

One.

Freight car.

Even though it was in a language I hadn’t heard before, I understood every single word.

“Soldat?”

“Ready to comply.”

The voice came from my own throat and I awoke in a quick start, a loud scream ringing throughout my apartment. I shook with fear, that voice sounded so familiar and it shook me to the core knowing that a different voice came through me.

A loud knock sounding at my front door caused me to jump from my bed, my body falling onto the floor with a hard thud. I backed myself into the corner of my room as the knocking continued, afraid that whatever nightmare I was having was coming true.

“Y/N?”

Bucky’s soft voice sounded outside my front door and with a quick jump, I was at my door, opening it slightly.

I was met with his very tired eyes and suddenly felt guilty for waking him up from my nightmares.

“Hey, I heard you screaming. Is everything alright?” He questioned while peaking over my head into my apartment.

“I’m sorry for waking you. I just had a bad dream, that’s all.”

My voice came out hoarse and quiet.

Bucky nodded. “Okay. Well, let me know if you need anything, alright?”

Giving him a small smile of thanks, I shut the door and quickly locked it. Not before noticing that he only kept his left hand in his pocket the entire time.

I sat up in bed, arms wrapped around my knees that were pulled up against my chest, afraid that if I fell asleep again that I would have another nightmare. The sun was casting a golden glow in my room and the warmth felt nothing against my cold skin.

After Bucky left, I couldn’t find it in myself to fall back asleep so I tried everything I could to stay awake; multiple cups of coffee, listening to music, and watching countless movies. I was starting to lose the fight, feeling exhausted and before I could stop myself my body fell onto the mattress, sleep winning.

Two men dressed in suits walked up stairs to an apartment. The warm summer breeze blowing through their hair. My hand extended towards the other man, the face being so familiar but yet unknown to me, and he took the key with gratitude.

“Thank you but I can get by on my own.” The smaller man said.

“The thing is, you don’t have too.”

Words escaped through my lips again, in a different voice.

This dream was different from all the others. I didn't feel death or scared; I felt warmth and love.

My hand was placed on the smaller man's shoulders. “I’m with you till the end of the line, punk.”

“I know, jerk.”

My dream shifted to another memory and I found myself being surrounded with trees and a large group of people around me. I was invisible to them, no one noticed I was there. There were cheers and applause, something worth celebrating for.

“Hey! Let’s hear it for Captain America!”

I awoke and found myself back into my own apartment, Salem laying softly next to me with a quiet purr coming from him.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I rolled out of bed and walked into the open main living space of my apartment and was getting ready to find something for breakfast but my feet froze when I noticed what time it exactly was.

“Six o'clock?! What the hell, did I sleep the whole day away?” I groaned.

Debating on what I would do with the rest of my night, I decided that I would try and relax by taking a hot bubble bath. After that much needed bath, I walked back into the living room in my usual pjs that consisted of an oversized t-shirt and an old pair of an ex's boxers, and noticed that Salem was not alone on the couch; Alpine had decided to join us tonight.

“Well hello, does your dad know you’re over here?”

As soon as the words left my lips, there was a knock at my door.

Blue eyes pierced my own as the door opened and I was overtaken with an urge to jump into Bucky’s arms; I didn’t.

It was already awkward enough that I was standing in front of him looking like a hot mess.

“I’m guessing Alpine is over here?” He asked while leaning against the door frame.

I nodded with a smile. “Yeah. I can send her back home if you’d like but I do have to say, they look pretty comfortable.”

Moving to the side, I let Bucky peek into my apartment at the couch where our two cats laid cuddled together.

“You can send her home later,” Bucky laughed. “I’ll let you get back to your night.”

Before I could stop myself, I gently grabbed his right arm to stop him. “Actually, if you want to stay you can. I was going to order some food and watch a movie.”

Bucky stuffed his hands in his sweater pocket and hesitated. “I don’t want to impose.”

“Not at all,” I spoke with a smile and opened the door more to let him inside.

“Uh, Steve was actually picking up some Chinese for us. I could tell him to pick something up for you too,” Bucky suggested.

“That would be great, thank you. I’m fine with whatever you guys are having.”

While Bucky was on the phone with Steve, I quickly excused myself to change. I suddenly found myself wanting to impress Bucky. After deciding on a pair of skin tight leggings and an oversized white knit sweater, I tossed my hair a bit, giving it some type of wave, before walking out into the main living area.

“Steve is going to be awhile. The Chinese place is busy,” Bucky informed me.

I waved him off, saying it was alright. “Can I offer you anything to drink?”

“Beer is fine, thank you.”

After giving him one, I sat on the opposite side of the couch while pulling my feet under me.

“How long have you and Steve known each other?” I asked.

“Uh, since we were kids. We basically grew up on the playground together.”

Something about him and my nightmares had this weird connection that I wasn’t able to put my finger on. If my mother had a say in it she would tell me that it was the whole ‘soulmate dreamers’ but I never believed in that stuff. It was an old wise tale that her great-great-great grandparents told her.

“Well what do you want to know about me? Ask me anything,” I offered.

Bucky placed his empty bottle on the table in front of him before leaning back into the couch. His arm rested on the back, fingers close to my knees.

“Steve said that you’re in law school?” He asked.

“Yup, I’ve got one semester left before I graduate.” I spoke proudly. “My parents have six kids, me being the oldest, so being the first one to graduate is big. My mom wants to start planning a party.”

“She seems very proud,” Bucky noted.

I nodded. “She is. I don’t see my family very much, they live in Greece. I moved here at eighteen for school.”

“That sounds tough.”

“It can be at times.” I admitted.

A silence fell between us and I looked over to his arm that rested on the back of the couch, noticing he was wearing the glove again. I then remembered that he only ever wore long sleeves when I was around. I knew it was none of my business but I couldn’t help but wonder what was underneath his shirt and glove.

Suddenly I found myself wondering what was underneath his black sweatpants and heat spread through my body. Flash images of two people in bed together played in my mind. Sweaty, hot bodies pressed against each other and their moans were in sync.

“Y/N?”

Looking towards Bucky, the images disappeared from my mind, and I bit my lip. “I’m sorry, did you say something?”

He nodded towards the door. “Steve’s here.”

“Oh, sorry.”

I let Steve in with a smile, saying thank you for picking up some food.

“Was I interrupting something?” He questioned while nodding towards Bucky's beer bottle and my empty wine glass.

“Not at all, we were just talking.” I said. “Make yourself comfortable.”

As I set out the food on the table, Steve punched Bucky in the shoulder.

“Next time you’re picking up the food, punk.”

Bucky laughed. “Sure thing, jerk.”

My body froze when I heard those familiar words.

Punk.

Jerk.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Steve asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Uh, actually I’m not feeling well. I’m sorry guys but I’m going to have to cut the night short.” I lied.

Bucky went to speak but I stopped him by nodding towards the door. “Can you lock up for me?”

Not bothering to hear their response, I ran into my room and locked the door behind me.

Weeks had passed by, me busying myself with school and work, as I tried to avoid Steve and Bucky. Ever since that night we all hung out, I tried to make sense of this whole situation. I didn’t know much about them and was afraid of what I would find out.

The nightmares had ended after that night and I could sleep easier knowing that the screams of death would no longer haunt me.

I still felt guilty, however, ignoring Steve and Bucky. They both had been nothing but nice and sweet to me and I cut them out of my life with no explanation.

Letting out a soft sigh, I let my door close behind me as I made my way towards the laundry room on my floor. My laundry had started to pile up and I knew I couldn't keep hiding out in my apartment. I was running out of clean clothes.

A soft tune from the 1940’s played through my phone, me finding this music relaxing, as I was shut out of the outside world. My hips swayed to the music and I was oblivious to the man who entered the room.

“You’ll never know how many dreams. I’ve dreamed about you or just how empty they all seemed without you. So kiss me once, then kiss me twice then kiss me once again. It’s been a long, long time,” I softly sang the words.

“This has to be one of my favorite songs.”

Dropping my basket of clothes on the ground, I turned on my heels and was face to face with one of the men I was avoiding.

“How long have you been standing there?” I questioned.

Bucky set his basket of clothes down on the table. “Since the start of the song.”

“Well, I’m just about finished.” I rushed while picking up the clothes that fell out of my basket.

“Y/N, did we do something?” Bucky asked.

I shook my head. “I’ve been busy with school and work. Speaking of which, I’ve got a paper due in an hour so I should get started.”

As I tried to walk out, Bucky stepped in front of me to stop me. “If I did anything to make you feel uncomfortable, I’m sorry.”

“Bucky, you didn’t do anything. I’ve just been really busy.” I admitted with a sigh.

Finally looking up at him, I noticed how close we were and I sucked in a breath. His lips were plump and punk from underneath his beard and I fought the urge to see how they tasted.

He gently raised a hand to move a strand of hair from my face. “You’re a terrible liar.”

His voice was soft and quiet.

“I really should get started on that paper,” I whispered.

Gloved fingers grazed my chin and forced me to look into his eyes. I couldn't ignore the coldness that seeped through the leather.

“Before you go,” Bucky’s breath fanned over my lips and his other hand reached around my hip, “You don’t want to forget this.”

My eyes looked away from him and my cheeks burned with fire when I noticed that he was holding up one of my red lace bra and panty sets. I hastily grabbed them and tossed them into my basket.

“I bet red looks really good on you,” He murmured into my neck.

Heat filled my veins at the gruffness of his voice and I shifted on my feet trying to hide my arousal.

“I’ll-uh-see you around, Bucky.” I muttered while quickly running out of the room back to my apartment to take a long, cold shower.

Tightness engulfed my throat as the air was being sucked out of me. I tried to yell, scream, but nothing would come out. The hand around my throat tightened with every fight and my vision became hazy. Life was being squeezed out of me and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

My eyes, before fading to black, looked from the dark eyes peeking through the long strands of hair and down towards the arm that was wrapped around my neck. Except it wasn't a normal arm, it was cold and hard.

It was metal.

A loud knock woke me from my nap on the couch and I let out a big sigh of relief that I was able to breathe again. This was the first nightmare I had in weeks and this one felt so real; I truly thought I was going to die.

Another knock sounded on the door.

“Coming!” I yelled while getting up from the couch.

“Let’s go.”

Steve grabbed my hand and pulled me out of my apartment, locking the door behind me.

“What’s going on?” I asked, trying to plant my feet in place.

“You’ve been ignoring us for weeks, Y/N. You’re hanging out with us tonight.”

“But-,” I started.

We stopped in front of Steve’s door and he shook his head. “Bucky said you’ve been busy with school and work so you’re relaxing with beers and crappy movies, okay?”

Realizing that this was a fight I wasn’t going to win, I sighed. “Fine but you’re paying for the beers. And I want an extra large cheese pizza.”

“Deal,” Steve smiled.

“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back soon.” Steve let me into his apartment and with a quick wave, he was down the stairs.

I could hear water running behind a door and I figured that Bucky was in the shower. Biting my lip, I tried to picture what he looked like with the water cascading down his broad chest to his hips and even lower.

“Get a hold of yourself, Y/N.” I muttered while sitting on the couch.

I spent the next few minutes cuddling with Alpine, waiting for Steve to return, and when the bathroom door clicked open my previous thoughts had come true.

Bucky stood in front of me with a black towel wrapped loosely around his waist, obviously not expecting me to be sitting in front of him. Water dripped from his hair and I followed it down his naked torso. My mouth ran dry when I noticed the glistening shine coming from his arm.

His metal arm.

“What’re you doing here?” He asked, not bothering to tighten the towel around him.

I could tell that he was nervous when he saw that I couldn’t take my eyes off his left arm.

“Uh-Steve, he uh, went to get something to eat,” I stammered over my words.

The man that I had been dreaming about, having nightmares about, was standing in front of me and I realized that the folklore my mom used to tell me growing up was in fact true.

Bucky was my soulmate.

“Your arm,” I pointed towards it. “Oh my god, you killed people.”

Bucky shifted, his body tensed. “I can explain.”

I stood on my feet and made a run for the door. Bucky stepped in front of me to stop me. His bare chest was in front of me and I refused to look into his eyes.

“Please let me explain, Y/N,” He pleaded.

I shook my head, voice almost gone. “I really should go.”

“I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.” His hands cupped my face and forced me to look at him. “I’m not that person anymore. That was years ago.”

When I didn’t fight him, he sighed before continuing. “Just give me five minutes and I can tell you wherever you want to know.”

“I already know what I need to know. I dreamed of your memories for months, their screams and cries kept me up every single night,” I stated.

Before I could register what was going on, Bucky had me over his shoulder and was walking towards his room. My butt fell onto his bed with a soft thud and he kicked the door shut. I backed up as far as I could, my back hitting his headboard.

“Y/N, please,” Bucky begged. “If I wanted to hurt you, don’t you think I would have done so already?”

When I was silent, he knew that I couldn’t argue with that question.

“Why’d you do it?” I questioned, voice shaky with sobs.

“I’ll explain everything as long as you’ll let me but can I get dressed first?” He motioned towards the towel.

Giving a small nod, I turned my back to him, allowing him to get dressed. When the bed dipped down next to me, I looked over to him and noticed he opted out of putting on a shirt. His metal arm out on full display.

“I never thought it was true; soulmate dreamers. My mom would tell me these stories growing up but that's all I thought they were. Stories,” I said.

“That’s why you dreamed of my memories?” Bucky asked.

I nodded. “They weren’t all bad. I dreamt of times with both you and Steve. You two were in a war and you called him Captain America?”

That was when Bucky explained everything. How after his time in the war, he was kidnapped by this highly known terrorist group called Hydra and they used him and his arm as a weapon of destruction. They would freeze him then unfreeze him when they needed him to kill someone. When he was done, they would wipe his memory and freeze him again. Which would explain why he looked so young; he was born in 1917.

“I don’t understand. I’ve been living in New York for years and I can’t believe I’ve never heard of you guys before,” I said astonished. “And Steve was frozen in ice for over 70 years?”

“After everything we’ve been through, we decided to come back home and try to live normally,” Bucky said.

I sat up on my knees. “Did you ever have dreams of me?”

A warm smile played on Bucky's lips. “Every night.”

“Of what?”

“When you were five years old and your parents surprised you with the puppy you’d been wanting for so long. Or the time that after your 16th birthday, you snuck out of your house to see a boy but after you climbed down the tree, your dad was outside waiting for you.”

A giggle left my lips. “I got in so much trouble.”

“My favorite is when you were singing in the laundry room to my favorite song. That was when I knew I was in love with you,” Bucky admitted.

“That happened earlier today,” I reminded him.

Bucky nodded. “I knew it from the moment I saw you when I moved in that you were my soulmate. I dreamt of you for months before meeting you.”

“What does this mean now?” I wondered while reaching for his metal hand. “We both know that we’re meant to be together but what do we do?”

His flesh fingers brought my face closer to his and without saying a word, our lips collided together. The kiss was fast, needy, but slow at the same time. His lips tasted exactly how I thought they would; minty. I climbed into his lap while running my hands through his hair, deepening the kiss.

“Bucky,” I mumbled into his lips.

“Hm?”

“I. really. Don't. want. To,” I spoke in between kisses. “I don’t want to ruin the moment but we’ve got four eyes staring at us.”

Bucky pulled away and we both looked over to the window where both Alpine and Salem stood, watching us.

“It seems like we’re not the only soulmates,” I giggled, feeling Bucky’s lips brush against the sensitive skin of my neck.

“You know what I’m wondering?” He pondered.

“What's that?” I breathed while brushing the hair out of his face.

“If you’re wearing that red number underneath these clothes,” Bucky groaned.

I raised my eyebrows in seduction. “Why don’t you find out?”

Our laughs and moans were heard throughout his apartment. That night I slept with a warm body next to mine and the nightmares had stopped; for good.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan #bucky barnes and reader #james buchanan barnes smut #james barnes smut #james barnes imagine #james bucky barnes #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #marvel

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webanglikethat · 3 months ago

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to every single queer person out there—trans, gay, bi, pan, ace, nonbinary, however you identify—let me just say this: I am so, so fucking sorry. SO, SO, SO FUCKING SORRY. I am furious. I’m pissed off beyond words. english seems like a forgotten skill as I'm typing this. I am so sorry.

we never deserved this. we never fucking deserved this.

I am sorry that you’ve been betrayed like this, that we’ve all been betrayed like this. I’m sorry that SO MANY of our damn votes weren’t counted, like we don’t even matter. like we’re just numbers on a page that they can toss out without a thought. like we can just be erased, as if we do not exist, like we’re puzzle pieces that don’t fit into their perfect picture, so they just throw us out, discarded, like we were never there in the first place. I’m sorry she just conceded, just gave up. left us hanging. just handed us over like we’re some afterthought, like we’re collateral damage in this disgusting twisted fucking game. as if our lives, our rights, everything we fought for, meant nothing. she just rolled over and let us get steamrolled, like we’re just noise, just numbers on a page, just nothing worth fighting for. do they even care that real people, people who trusted her, who put their hopes in her, are being crushed by this? and not only in the US. we ALL believed in her. and ... she ... just ... she was gone. just like that. and we’re the ones who have to pay the price. we’re the ones left with our futures on the line, wondering what rights we’ll have tomorrow, if we’ll even be safe tomorrow. and she just… gave it all up. handed us over to people who are hell-bent on erasing us, who’ve been clear from day one about what they think of us, what they want to take away. how do we even make sense of that? how do we believe in ANYONE? how can you abandon us in the lion's den and yet demand compassion and trust? to trust in the very hands that have left us to bleed, to burn, to fight alone?

we deserve better. we deserved someone who would stand with us when it mattered, who wouldn’t just throw in the towel and walk away when things got tough. we’re not just collateral. we’re not disposable. we’re human beings with lives, with love, with the right to exist without fear. we aren't statistics, diagrams, names forgotten on a wall. we are queer, and we are real. and she ... just left us to face down a nightmare she knows damn well is coming. so how dare they tell us to “keep faith” when they’ve shown us that our lives were never worth the fight to them. we needed someone who would dig in and say, “no, you can’t have them. not now, not ever.” and instead? we were left out in the cold to fend for ourselves. like always. like fucking always. and this isn’t just some political setback for us. this is our lives, our right to exist. we’ve fought and bled and stood through hell just to claim an inch of ground to live openly, to love who we love, and to be who we are. we deserved so much more than empty promises. and we won’t forget this.

right now, it feels like every warning, every fear we’ve had has come to life in the worst way. and let’s be real—what’s next is terrifying. I will not sugarcoat it. rights are going to be stripped away, our existence denied, our safety threatened. trump hasn’t hidden it; he’s promised it. this was supposed to be our home too. but they’re pushing us out, forcing us to hide. so please, if you need to, go back into the closet. change states if that’s what it takes. hell, think about leaving the country if you can, because it’s becoming clear that staying might mean risking everything. you do not owe anyone anything, just think of yourself first. you are your own priority.

and god .. Love. Love—something so pure, something so simple—has been twisted into a reason for others to hate us, to fear us, to hurt us. we were never supposed to be the ones people saw as a “threat.” that label should belong to hatred, to racism, to homophobia, to everything that has poisoned this world. but instead, somehow we are the ones they call dangerous. we are the ones they want to erase. and it’s maddening. what kind of world are we living in, where the fight to just exist is an endless battle? was it not love that led Eve to take that fateful bite, trusting in the bond she shared with Adam? and if love is the foundation upon which humanity was built, how can we be faulted for following its lead? of all the things we could hate, and we chose love.

if this moment feels like it’s too much, if it feels like everything you’ve fought for, every piece of yourself you’ve worked to own, every right, every dream, every bit of safety is collapsing around you -- I get it. I feel it in my bones. it feels like drowning, like being swallowed whole by a storm that never ends. the shore seems so far away. but listen to me: don’t you fucking dare let them break you. don’t let them get that satisfaction. don’t give them that power. we are not here to let monsters erase us. we’re here to outlast every single one of them. we’re here to survive and thrive. we are queer, we are real, we exist, we will continue to exist.

their power, their hatred, their cruelty—it won’t last forever. I know it's difficult to see the light at the end of this tunnel. but they are the ones who don’t belong in a world built on compassion, on love, on freedom. You are the real thing. You are here. You deserve to be here, and you deserve to feel safe, loved, and free.

if you’re feeling like there’s no point anymore, if this all feels like it’s too damn much to take, please just hang on. this fight is brutal, and sometimes it feels like it never ends. but I’m begging you—don’t give up. don’t let them have that final victory. don’t let them silence your voice, your light, your life. scream, cry, punch walls, call someone, reach out, hold on to whatever will keep you here another day, another hour. do whatever you have to do to survive this moment. because you’re needed. we need you. the world needs you.

you might not see it now, but you are a part of something big, something powerful, something they wish they could destroy but never will. you’re part of a legacy of resilience, of love, of defiance against hatred. every queer person, every person who has ever had to stand up against a world that told them they shouldn’t exist, that they should be crucified, erased, beaten up, has carried that legacy forward, passed it down so we could be here. so you could be here. and they did not survive all they did, did not fight, did not sacrifice so much just for us to lose hope. we’re still here because others fought and held on. now, it’s our turn. we owe it to them, to ourselves, to hold on with everything we have, to fight with everything in us.

and one day, I promise you, I truly pinkie promise you, that you’re going to wake up in a world that has moved beyond these hateful voices. one day, you will wake up in a world that sees you, that values you, where you don’t have to fight just to exist. you deserve to live in it, to walk in the sunlight without fear, without shame. they don’t get to take that from you. they don’t get to erase you. they don’t get to win.

this moment is hard. it’s beyond hard. but you, every single one of you, are worth it. you are not alone in this fight. you are surrounded by countless others who feel this too, who know this pain, who are holding on right alongside you.

so please, hold on. you belong, and nothing they do can change that. they cannot snuff out your light. they cannot erase your legacy. they cannot undo the love you were born to spread.

stay. fight like hell. be louder, be prouder, be everything they tell you not to be. because you are worth every ounce of this battle. and we will see the day they’re gone. we will make it through.

we too shall rise from the ashes.

to my queer family, my phoenix.

#lgbtq #us politics #elections 2024 #usa election #presidential election #elections #donald trump #fuck donald trump #lgbtq community

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katiascraft · 2 months ago

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✐ᝰ "You knew all too well i was right where you left me" | CL16 ࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊

parings: retired!charles leclerc x writer!ex!reader

series summary: It’s the story of a woman frozen in the moment her world fell apart. A perfect dinner ended with, “I met someone else,” and while everyone moved on, she remained stuck in that instant, unable to let go of the past. A poignant tale of heartbreak, grief, and the weight of being trapped in a “forever” that never was.

🔎 chapter one: “love is short but forgetting is so long”

🔎 chapter two: “did the love affair mail you too?”

🔎 chapter three: “you kept me like a secret but I kept you like an oath”

chapter four: “help, I’m still at the restaurant” -> chapter five

‼️ best friends in this chapter: nikola (nik) , dorothy (dottie) and beatrice (betty). They all know each other from Oxford University where the four of them studied creative writing.

word count: +5,1k.

BLOG MASTERLIST - series masterlist

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view story replies

agostinabff: hope you have a lovely week off mon amour!! You deserve it. We love you 💘

↳ yourusername: thank u for being the best part of my life 💌

y/nstan: omg GIRL we are the same person wtf 😭

user4: who is he and where can i find him to KILL HIM?????

nikolabff: is my air bnb recommendation good enough ????? (That looks disgusting, uber eats exists darling)

nikolabff: can't wait for tomorrow!! London should be scared of us 😈

nikolabff: did dorothy call you? She isn't answering my calls

↳ yourusername: babes!!!! Aaaaaa i'm so excited. I just ended call with dottie. She arrived safe and well, i missed you guys so much 😭 did betty text you?

↳ nikolabff: tbh she didn't but you know how she is. can't wait to see you all tomorrow!!

arthurleclerc: hey y/n i know this may be weird but just wanted to say, i read your book and it is amazing! my brother was an idiot you know? you are an amazimg person im sure you'll find someone who loves you deeply (if you didn't already. maybe you did) okay, i don't bother you any longer. hope we can meet again someday!

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

⋆˚࿔ a week ago 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

“There'll be happiness after you, but there was happiness because of you. Both of these things can be true. There is happiness, past the blood and bruise, past the curses and cries. Beyond the terror in the nightfall haunted by the look in my eyes that would've loved you for a lifetime and leave it all behind. Tell me, when did your winning smile begin to look like a smirk? When did all our lessons start to look like weapons pointed at my deepest hurt? I hope she'll be a beautiful fool who takes my spot next to you. No, I didn't mean that. Sorry, I can't see facts through all of my fury. You haven't met the new me yet” you read that piece out loud from your personal journal to your therapist. She stayed silent for a while. You looked over at her knowing you skipped some parts but what you read in the end sank in.

“I think there’s a lot to discuss from just that single piece you wrote. But I wanna ask you something before anything else: do you really believe there will be happiness after him?” your therapist made you a question that felt like daggers pinching you that resulted in leaving you breathless for a few seconds. you loved and hated therapy for this reason. There were things you couldn’t question by yourself because you never thought about it and things you didn’t know how to answer like this one.

“I wish I could say yes. But i don't think i’ve been happy since he left” saying that out loud hurt yourself even more. It was not something easy to admit and accept. But it was the truth. You have never felt really happy since then.

She nodded, writing down in her notebook “but do you believe you can be happy without him? Why is he still so important or has so much space in your life that you can't be happy if he isn’t there? Why were you happy when he was with you?” as always, too many questions with so few answers. You felt exhausted, frustrated by the fact you didn't know what to think about it all.

“I'm sure I want to be happy, I can't live like this anymore. I'm tired” you assured her and yourself. You took a few seconds to think and she respected that. “I guess if I want to then I can, right? I mean, I talk to my friends and all of them tell me time and time again ‘don't let what happened define you’ and I try but I don't know why it is really hard for me” you explained looking at the floor.

“And what’s that definition of yourself?”

“That i'm not worthy of love i guess. that there will always be someone better than me, more attractive, more lovable, more interesting. I can't be the one, for anyone” admitting it felt like an elephant stepped on you and you just died in the act. Your therapist, Maria, nodded looking at you.

“Well, but in what you wrote you tell this woman he left you for, that you hope she is a fool like you, right?” she intervened. You nodded. “What can you tell me about it?”

You looked at your hands a bit sweaty. “I really don’t know. I mean her existence made me compare myself to her. She is so different. It made me feel all of those things I said before. And maybe i blamed her existence because if she didn't existed then, charles would still be here”

“You think so?”

“I guess, yeah” you looked at her. She wrote down more stuff on that notebook you were so intrigued by.

“So, for you, there doesn't exist the possibility that maybe he just stopped loving you? Like even if she existed or not - could be any other woman or could be no one at all. Would it hurt more if he just stopped loving you?” you felt your brain make a 180 turn on itself.

“I don’t know. Maybe, yeah, I mean. I Think it’s easier to blame someone then not have an explanation for it” your therapist nodded.

“So, why would she occupy your same place then? If you are different from each other, why would she be just like you? As a replacement it seems and at the same time who’s at fault for all of this situation and insecurities. And before you answer, I think we can connect that to what happened between your dad and mom, right?” she saw your face so confused she knew this was gonna be the end of the session so you could think about it during the next two weeks. “You told me you discovered your dad cheated on your mom. So all you ever dreamed was to find someone who would be better than him, to prove yourself that that isn’t your destiny, just like your mom. And then Charles left you for this other girl. And everything you built up in your mind to try to believe in love and to escape from the reality you had to live through, then it crumbled down in that instant. Leaving you feeling like there was no way you could be worthy of love, because you tried but Charles did exactly what your dad did to your mother. And since then you couldn’t date anyone else. This is a theory, I'm not saying it is what it is of course. But it seems that if they didn't exist then you wouldn’t be this hurt and maybe forgive charles,as you said when you wrote ‘and leave it all behind’ just like your mom did with your dad”

Her words echoed in your head for a while. The knot in your throat intensified. “Charles was my everything just like my parents were. And after what happened, with Charles and my dad, I guess I let that define me. I wanted to show myself that the love i’ve seen in books and movies existed, not like in my house. I wanted to make things right. In a way, to mend what hurt me the most. The betrayal of my dad. So I put Charles under that pressure and maybe that made things the way they went down. I don’t know to be honest. I don’t know why I want alexandra to be like me. Maybe that’s another way of convincing myself I'm not the only fool in this mess.”

“I don’t think you are a fool. Relationships are complicated and the reason he decided to leave could be based on a million reasons, and even in that situation. Maybe any of them are because of you or who you are as a person. People are complex and most times messy. Feelings aren’t easy to control or understand” she explained to you. “So, coming back to this new encounter you had with him, how did you feel about it?”

“It felt weird, very uncomfortable to be around him. But at the same time a force drove me closer to him. I wanted to be closer. Ask him everything and at the same time punch him. He felt the same to be honest. Just like the previous day he left, when everything was alright.” you pulled a face you didn't know how to describe at that moment.

“And you felt the same?”

“No i think, i didn’t” she nodded and half smiled at my answer.

“Then, what’s the new you he didn’t meet?”

“Who i am now i guess”

“And who are you?” her question made you realize you didn’t know how to answer that question yet. You knew you were different, because you felt different although stuck dealing with the aftermath of that relationship. She noticed your silence (because she knew all too well you didn’t know how to answer it) and smiled gently.

“Alright, y/N. Let’s leave it here and continue next session, okay? See you in two weeks”

Who the fuck were you now?

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Mornings at your balcony were your favorite moment during the day. Your coffee was warm and comforting on a grey and windy day. You were covered in clothes and blankets. You needed that moment anyway. You wouldn’t let the winter win. You watched your neighbor cleaning his living room. He had his window opened so you could see a bit of what he was doing. However, you didn't see him very well because you didn't have your glasses on so it’s a bit blurry. You thought there was someone else with him. Probably a girl.but you weren’t that interested.the only thing you hated about your balcony was the fact that the view was partially blocked by that damn house up the hill.

After a while, you took your stuff and went into your house again. You felt warmer instantly. You left the blankets on the coach and washed up what you used to have for breakfast a few minutes ago. You had to pack as soon as possible. On saturday, you travel to london to see your college friends and also because your friend franco, another formula one driver you met by chance at a college party, it was his birthday party. You wanted that week to be a good one. Be a week you genuinely enjoy and just be happy.

But after everything that happened the last month around Charles, it was really difficult. Your therapist was a really good help of course. But you hated not knowing how to handle all of these feelings you didn’t understand and that paralyze you.

You only had one phrase in your head: ‘no one teaches you what to do when a good man hurts you’.

You couldn’t think of Charles as a bad man, or person or anything. Yes, he was stupid. And he destroyed your self esteem. And your trust. And yes, you still were kind of stuck in that restaurant. But you also had some kind of responsibility. And that also troubled you a lot.

Your self esteem shouldn’t be defined by anyone else but you. What do you think about yourself? Who are you? That was your fault. You didn’t know how that would affect destiny for him to leave you but well, it is what it is yet. You kind of thought that maybe it’s the price you had to pay for putting him in a role he didn't want to be in. maybe you were too much. Too intense. Too dependent. He only wanted someone to talk and have fun with. But you wanted a good husband at 18, and a good father, and the one who would take away your pain and fix your traumas.

Maybe he wasn’t the only one who hurt someone, but you also hurt him in some way.

Ten years in, and you still couldn’t explain what happened. What did you do or not do for him to stop loving you? Or perhaps you can actually stop loving someone but you didn't experience it yet.

You sighed, reaching your travelling suitcase from on top of your closet. You almost fell so you had to grab a chair from your kitchen. You loved travelling but packing was a nightmare (also, because you couldn’t decide which outfits were good so you had to take two suitcases and pay extra everytime. Not that you didn't have the money and it was a problem. But you knew it was an unnecessary spend).

That’s when you remembered how it was like to travel with charles. And you hated yourself for remembering his stupid laugh so cute it made your heart melt every time. Would he still laugh like that? Maybe it was best not to know it.

If you were younger and he came back, you’d probably forgive him and leave it all behind just to be happy with him. But now, you wanted to leave everything behind: him, his family, the memories, the feelings, the hurt. And maybe that is what changed.

That was the new you.

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Your laugh was so liberating. Your hair was free in the wind. He was driving through the Monaco coast. It was finally summer break and you decided to have a picnic at the beach. His hand on your tight. David Guetta on the radio. You were singing along without a care in the world.

Your fingers brushed his hand making him look at you through his sun glasses in a beautiful cute smile.

“You look gorgeous, cherie” you saw his lips pronounce those words in slow motion, feeling your every fiber get wild inside you. Your smile was so big and your cheeks pink. He could melt forever just to see you this happy. You wanted to freeze those moments with him and live in them forever.

“I love you, Charles,” you said so warmly and softly. It was your romance movie playing over and over again. That’s how you felt. But when he heard you say those words, his face turned serious. Almost pulled a face of disgust. For some reason you got so scared you wanted to jump out of the car to save your life.

You wanted to save your life.

He noticed you wanted to escape so he tightened his grip on you tightly, hurting you but he wasn’t letting you go away.

“Charles, let go of me” you said almost in a whisper. Your breath was fast. You needed to jump. You started fighting so he would let you go.

“Stop, cherie. We’re gonna have our happily ever after, isn’t that what you wanted?” he said, trying to drive and grab you at the same time. You started crying not knowing what to answer. The anxiety took over you.

“You said you loved me cherie, you can’t go now” he was crying and let go of the steering wheel. You got desperate seeing the car had no control and you were at the Monaco cliffs.

“Charles! CHARLES!” you screamed from the top of your lungs as you watched both of you exiting the driveway into nowhere. All the sea around you. Slow motion Charles looked at you with a huge smile.

“Happily ever after baby” he said and you looked horrorized. But when you were about to scream again as if that would change anything.

Everything went black.

You woke up drowning in cold sweat and tears. Your heart was beating too fast for your liking. The feeling you had in that moment of pure confusion was scared to death. For a moment you didn’t know if you were alive or dead. Your room was pitch black so it kinda felt like you died. But you were thinking and you thought there was no way you could think when dead, so you were alive.

After a few seconds of paralysis, you react and turn on your light from your bed table. You took a deep breath and scrubbed your face to wake yourself up. Your face was wet still from your tears. The moment you were conscious again you felt defeated. It was the third time in the night you were having this kind of nightmares, now three days in a row. You laid back again in bed for a moment.frustration was all over your face. You were so tired of living like this. Yet, you didn’t know how to stop. You grabbed your phone to see what time it was. It showed 5:46 am. You snarled, hating your brain more than anything in the world.

You got up from bed and went straight to the bathroom to wash your face. You knew all too well you couldn’t be able to fall asleep again nor you wanted to. It has been a terrible night already. So you let your brain win once again.

You went downstairs to your studio where it was warm. Sun isn't out yet, so here you’ll be warmer. If not, you probably would have chosen the balcony as always. Or the restaurant, although you haven't come back to it since the last encounter with charles. You just didn’t want to go back there ever again. Just like the time he left.

You sat on your chair at your desk. Eyes tired. You opened your journal. You didn’t remember writing so much like in the past week or so. But you had so many thoughts to write sometimes it got difficult for you to function properly. You just had to stay at home writing non-stop. Not only your upcoming book but your feelings. After the dream you had, a lot must be processed.

I know I'm probably better off on my own than loving a man who didn't know what he had. And I see the permanent damage he did to me.

Never again.

I just wish I could forget when it was magic.

But I also just wish you could’ve been a better man.

You sighed reading your words again on paper. You felt worried about yourself. Like, maybe you were broken and couldn’t ever be fixed. You were scared that you wouldn’t be able to fix yourself back up again. Or even thinking that maybe you were born broken so how could you fix yourself then? You were scared there was no way out of this pain, agony, self hatred, nightmare you have lived these past years… or your whole life. You dreamed about being in love again with someone so different from charles yet maybe who makes you feel the same high. Or maybe higher erasing every trace of him or memory of your dad. Now lines were blurry. You didn’t want to think about your dad, not only because he was gone and you couldn’t do anything about it, but because it felt weird linking him in some way to charles, but if your therapist said so, maybe you were more troubled than you thought.

Would there be a good guy? Do they even exist? You guessed you’ve never met one of them yet.

I hold onto this pride because, these days, it's all I have. And I gave you my best, and we both know you can't say the same.

Were you writing about him? Or about your dad?

You stared at the wall thinking about the answer that never came around.

Just like the both of them did when it came to you.

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

It was 10 am in the morning already. You didn’t sleep a bit. You’ve been in a zoom meeting since 8. Talks about the movie in the making were held. Casting started so they sent you a few ones they think are perfect for the roles so you have to watch them after the meeting. Also, they go through the aesthetic and changes they will make from the book, and that’s why this meeting has been so long. They needed to discuss everything with you to make sure you agreed. They wanted to be respectful with your work and you appreciate it very much. It made you feel important. In other news, they thought that taylor swift could make the soundtrack for the movie and you got very excited about it. You loved Taylor's songwriting and believed (and were almost sure) she would make the perfect song for the movie.

It was gonna be a long day ahead, full of work and watching hours of footage from castings. But it was for your dream. You still couldn’t believe you had your book be a movie in the making. It still feels surreal.

Then you remembered charles’ ex followed you and liked your posts. And you were mad at him again. You were sure (no doubts at all for real), she didn't know who you were. Because he kept you buried like you were sin.

A part of you wanted to believe he did it because he knew he fucked up and didn’t want people to judge him for his lack of sympathy towards his last lover. But at the same time you just found it cruel behavior with no reason at all to do that. You kinda felt dirty as if you were bad. Very bad. Banned from his life.

You shook your head, getting yourself back to the present time and starting working again. Your lack of rest doesn't help in getting distracted with thought every minute but you were doing the best you could. Plus, work helps you not to think about anything else. And that’s good.

You really needed a break from thinking.

⋆˚࿔ finally the london trip arrived 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

yourusername made a post

liked by nikolabff, beatricebff, francolapinto, landonorris and 678,435 others

yourusername: first few days back in london = first few days of happiness ❤️‍🩹

tagged: @nikolabff , @beatricebff , @dorothybff and @francolapinto

view more comments

user345: girl is happy we are happy

user3: omg such QUEENS

↳ francolapinto: i guess ur not talking about me

↳ user3: oh im so talking about you too

↳ francolapinto: 🤨

nikolebff: the girls girled

dorothybff: happy looks very hot on you darling 🫦

beatricebff: can you kiss already??????

↳ yourusername: no ❤️

nikolabff: gossip so good bro was giggling and kicking his feet

↳ francolapinto: it was indeed

↳ alexalbon: better bring that gossip to the paddok asap

↳ yourusername: it's CONFIDENTIAL

↳ alexalbon: booooooo ur so boring

↳ oscarpiastri: i wanna be part of this group please

↳ nikolabff: yes you can sir

↳ francolapinto: i thought no one else was allowed

↳ nikolabff: stfu 🩷

User231: i love this crossover of y/n and formula 1 drivers. I would've never expected it tbh

↳ franstan: same!!! I love it!! Didn't know she was friends with franco

↳ user354: i think they met a few years ago, y/n was asked about it on insta questions and she said they met randomly at a college party

↳ franstan: interesting

User1: girl!!! You look so good omg

francolapinto: te amo amiga so happy to see you happy ❤️‍🩹

↳ yourusername: te amo tambien ❤️‍🩹

↳ user778: EXCUSE YOU ???????

↳ franstan7: OMG OMG OMG

user4: WHAT IS HAPPENING ?

user324: so no one is gonna talk about lando world champion fucking norris being on the likes ????? 🤨🤨🤨🤨

↳ landostan: that was what i was thinking

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

⋆˚࿔ finally the london trip arrived 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Laughter was all over the place as well as a lot of bottles of alcohol with names you haven’t seen in your life. It was finally Saturday night, which meant it was Franco's birthday celebration. And because it was his birthday of course all the decorations were argentina flags everywhere and boca junior club t-shirts for everyone, including you. As you got to his house you were given one at the door to wear it. Fortunately, for you it didn’t ruin your outfit and I could say it looked great on you. Or well, that’s what franco said to you while preparing you a drink you haven’t ever tried before. He said it was called fernet with coke. You were already a bit drunk because you were drinking vodka with the girls while getting ready. You didn’t like vodka that much but after everything that happened in your life, you kinda felt the urge to drown in vodka or tequila. Mi gente latino music was playing non-stop. You knew Franco loved duki and bizarrap, and they were actually at the party. You couldn’t talk to them yet. So everything was a bit crazy even if you weren’t that many people. He was just a close friend to franco. So i guess it was like 60 people. Way too many people to be honest but for a famous 2 times world champion it was really a small amount of people so it was super intimate.

“There you go, hermosa” he said, handing you the glass full of black liquid. You looked at it a bit worried in a funny way and grabbed it. He let out a cute laugh. “Try it, you’re gonna like it, i promise” he encouraged you. He couldn’t resist the view of you with that boca juniors on. Probably, the combination of you and that was his heaven made on earth. He was really down for you, since it felt like forever. Probably since that night at that party back 6 years ago or so. You always have a different light that anyone can match. and that’s what he liked most about you along with your authenticity. You were so unique to him. He looked at you biting his lip a little trying not to be so obvious.

You tried the drink looking into his eyes. You were really close but you felt really comfortable. Your friends have left you alone with him the minute he came forward to you, of course. They really believed you could work out with him. And after vodka and long talks about it with them, maybe you would give it a try. But it scared you, you didn’t want to use him as a friend. So it was a risky situation in your opinion. Although, you could see he liked you for a long time now. And you found him funny and really attractive in your opinion. You give it a few more sips to taste it fully. “Oh I think I like it,” you said, giving him a funny smile.

“I told you. I’m the best fernet preparer in this whole country… and also, I did it with love just for you” he said, making you laugh and blush after the last sentence he said.

“I’m sure it’s the love you put in it” you gave it another sip looking at him. His face turned red and let out such a cute giggle. Alcohol was making you melt for your best friend? We guess so.

He got closer grabbing your waist and planted a sweet kiss on your cheek making you nervous as you never felt for a long time. However, it felt weird. Maybe as if this shouldn’t be happening.

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Franco’s house was enormous. The party was being held at the gallery near his garden. It was cold but the lights and the people stuck to each other made it warmer. You were with your girls again dancing to bad bunny and los del espacio songs. You didn’t understand a word because Spanish was definitely not your talent. You tried to learn because of Franco, and he tried to teach you, but failed every time. You did learn a few words anyway but speaking fluidly was something you won’t ever do. Or that’s what you thought about it. It was your third fernet. You didn’t know it was so good. Also it could make you so drunk. And you were way too drunk by now but you never felt so happy. You were laughing about anything and everything. Dancing without a care in the world. Enjoying being surrounded by your friends. Charles wasn’t on your mind nor any trace of him or his family or the history behind you two. Memories have faded away, washed by the alcohol in your veins. You didn’t remember having so much fun since forever. Your girls were right. Life was so much more than Charles, you were so much more than what you were with him. And all of this you have it because of you and you alone. In that moment you felt liberated. Free from the curse it was put on you. Free of judgment. Free of insecurities. Until you saw that damn mullet and when it turned around you felt kind of speechless. Your eyes locked in that man you didn’t know but he was so hypnotic. You couldn’t stop looking at him.

“Girl! Close your mouth, you're drooling! Is it for franco, huh?” Nikola joked when she saw you like that, making you laugh while shaking your head.

“No it isn’t girls, is that guy over there i don’t know who he is but he is so beautiful” you said pointing your finger in his direction unconsciously. Because when you looked at him again he was looking at you straight in the eyes. You almost freaked out and ran away from there. His fucking smile. What the hell is happening to you? Your friends looked over at him as well with no simulation at all. The four of you were pretty obvious. And that’s when another guy turned around to see where his mate was looking over with that face. Nikola almost fell to the floor.

She turned around freaked out, making all of you stop looking at them so weird. Alcohol makes you behave so embarrassing for your liking.

“Holy shit girls, it’s oscar fucking piastri and lando norris” her eyes were leaving her face for a bit. You grabbed her arms still confused. You didn’t know them but you heard nik talking about that oscar a few times. Betty and Dottie looked over at them again but they were gone.

“Okay they are gone nik” dottie said. Betty took a sip from her drink. You wanted to say something but you felt someone grab your waist from behind and kiss your head.

“Hello ladies” of course it had to be franco. You smiled nervously looking at your friends. One of your hands placed over Franco's arms not wanting him to let go. You liked it. Or that’s what you drowned in alcohol though about it.

“Hello mister, i guess we will grab more drinks at the bar, goodbye bye byeee” Betty said, taking her two girls with her leaving you alone with franco. You laughed and resigned. Nik gave franco a warning sign ‘im watching you’ making franco laugh too. And they disappeared through the people dancing and talking.

He kissed your cheek letting you go a bit so you could turn around to face him. “Hey handsome, where have you been? Are you having fun?” you said surrounding his neck with your arms and he did the same around your waist. He nodded in a smile.

“Now that I'm back with you, I'm really having fun,” he said cheeky.

“Oh shut up” you said rolling your eyes funny because of his flirty side.

“Hey, I'm telling the truth. I was with my school friends though ,they came from home” he told you and made you smile while stroking the curls on his head gently. Your fingers in his hair sent shivers down his spine. He couldn’t stop looking at your lips and you noticed. But you liked it so you let him.

“I’m happy you’re enjoying your night fran. You deserve all of this love, world champion” you said sweetly looking at his eyes so shiny and deep green right now. Your words made him melt.

And there were you, the girl who can win over the man known for being the most professional at flirting. You always win with him. He is so down bad for you he felt stupid. You were so beautiful in his eyes. So amazing. He hated Charles so much. He even celebrated when he retired. They couldn't even pretend to like each other and actually it was one of the most famous feuds between drivers in the history of the sport. Franco just couldn’t comment anything positive about charles. Even if he tried he just couldn’t. The most infamous moment was when Charles won his first championship and he was asked about it. He said he didn’t want to comment about it because he had nothing to comment about. So franco started to be known as the guy who was nice to everyone except for charles leclerc. And it was hilarious to see because no one knew why. And the why was always you.

Franco wanted to have you and couldn’t. Charles had left you alone and destroyed another woman. How could he? Franco took that as an insult. You were an amazing woman. The most amazing woman he has ever met and that asshole did that to you. He just couldn’t stand him. Breathing the same air as Charles was unbearable for him.

All of these thoughts rambling around and neither of you didn’t realize you were kissing already. Your lips melting into each other in the sweetest and softest kiss you have ever had. Even better than any kiss Charles could have given you before. You hated yourself for comparing every guy in your life with Charles, but you couldn’t help it. But this felt different. It was sweet but at the same time it felt so wrong.

But you couldn’t stop.

And you didn’t want to.

⋆˚࿔ TO BE CONTINUED 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

chapter fiver: here.

author's note: things are getting complicated around here!!!

tag list: : @a-beaverhausen , @priniya , @annaluna12 , @thehoplessromanticclub , @emryb , @hadids-world , @kaztheemyth , @freyathehuntress , @diorbrxtz , @theseerbetweenus , @sie17136 , @leila-030304 , @charlesgirl16 , @ricciardosheart , @weekendlusting

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mythicalmaven · 3 months ago

Text

Beyond Boundaries - Oscar Piastri (THIRTEEN)

A very angsty chapter but with a good ending! whoops! The positive will return, no worries! <3

Masterlist ↳pairing: oscar piastri x female!norris!reader ↳word count: 4,3K ↳chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, ↳chapter warnings: friends to lovers, brothers teammate trope, talking about feelings, crying, realizations, angst (but with a happy ending)

↳series summary: Since Oscar joined McLaren as your brother’s teammate, you two have quickly become best friends. Recently promoted to be Oscar’s physiotherapist, you both relish the opportunity to spend more time together. However, as the new role brings you closer, you both realize you might be feeling more a little more for each other than just friendship

“OSCAR JACK PIASTRI!” Lando’s voice rang through the hall as he barged into Oscar’s hotel room, eyes blazing with barely contained rage. “YOU ARE SO DEAD!”

Oscar, hunched over his suitcase, froze and looked up, bewildered. He could tell immediately that Lando was beyond furious, but he couldn’t fathom what had set him off.

“Lando, what the hell are you talking about?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed, scratching the back of his neck in confusion.

Oscar had just arrived back after qualifying, planning to freshen up before heading over to your room, as he did every race weekend. He’d been thinking about you the entire way back, looking forward to unwinding together, the familiarity of those private moments giving him a sense of calm after the intensity of the day. But now, standing here, all he could do was rack his brain, trying to figure out what could have provoked Lando like this.

Lando’s fists clenched, the knuckles going white as he glared at Oscar with pure disgust. He slammed the door behind him, sending a tremor through the room. “Don’t play dumb with me, Oscar. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Oscar’s face twisted in confusion, his mind whirling. Was this some bizarre prank? Lando was known for his sense of humor, but this felt... different. More intense. More real. Slowly, he got up from his crouched position and perched himself on the edge of the bed, his voice calm but uncertain. “Lando, I seriously have no clue what’s going on. Did I do something wrong?”

Lando let out a humorless laugh, practically spitting the air out in disbelief. “Are you actually this clueless, or are you just lying straight to my face right now?”

Oscar’s patience was wearing thin. “Lando, for the last time, what is going on?” he demanded, voice rising as frustration bled into his tone.

Lando’s face twisted with anger, and he kicked the door behind him, a loud bang reverberating through the room. “Jesus Christ, Oscar, you’re a fucking asshole.” His eyes flashed as he took a step closer, his voice dripping with disdain. “Maybe next time, don’t lie to my sister about your so-called ‘feelings’ for her if you plan on sticking your tongue down someone else’s throat behind her back.”

Oscar’s heart stopped, his face going pale. “Lando,” he began, trying to keep his voice steady, “What are you talking about? I had to kiss her on the cheek, nothing more. You knew about that—you know it meant nothing.”

But Lando’s expression only grew darker. “Oh, so now you’re not just an asshole; now you’re a liar too. I’m not talking about that.”

Oscar’s stomach twisted. He had no idea what Lando was getting at, but a cold unease settled over him. “What are you going on about, then?”

“If you were trying to hide your little escapade with that attention-seeking bitch, maybe next time you should close the damn door of your driver’s room before deciding to shove your tongue down her throat.”

Oscar’s face drained of color, realization finally sinking in. “Oh god, did you see that?” He stammered, starting to explain, but Lando cut him off sharply.

“I didn’t,” he hissed, eyes blazing, “but she did.”

Oscar’s heart shattered, his voice catching. “I promise, Lando, it’s not what it looked like.”

Lando’s laugh was sharp and bitter. “Yeah, that’s what they all say.” His fists clenched tighter, his voice deadly quiet. “You’d better have a damn good explanation for this, Oscar. Because if you don’t—and I mean it—if you even think of stepping near her again, I swear to god, I’ll fucking kill you.”

Oscar was left in stunned silence as Lando spat the words at him, guilt and regret washing over him like a tidal wave. His mind flickered back to what had happened earlier, replaying each moment with increasing dread.

*flashback to earlier*

Oscar had been in his driver’s room, unwinding after the high of qualifying, hoping to cool down before meeting up with you. Ava had followed him in, chattering on about the race and the PR obligations they’d fulfilled. They shared a laugh about the awkward peck on the cheek they’d had to perform for the cameras, the faint taste of staged affection still lingering.

“You looked so stiff out there, Oscar,” Ava teased, smirking. “You know, if we don’t make it look real, they’re going to know. We should really practice if we want people to buy it.”

Oscar tensed, shifting uncomfortably. “I think we’re fine, Ava. It’s just PR. We’re not meant to look that serious anyway.”

She rolled her eyes, brushing off his hesitation. “Come on, Oscar. Don’t be so uptight. This is for show. It doesn’t mean anything.” Her voice softened, and she took a step closer, her eyes glittering. “Let me teach you a few tricks. Just… trust me.”

He backed away slightly, eyeing the door. “This really isn’t a good idea, Ava. It could easily go too far.”

But Ava seemed determined, giving him a knowing smile as she leaned in and pecked him lightly on the lips, her eyes flickering toward the door. Oscar felt his stomach clench, a mix of unease and annoyance. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want her. He was only doing this entire act to protect you from unwanted scrutiny and questions.

“See?” she murmured, stepping closer still, her fingers brushing his cheek. “It’s not so bad. A bit of practice never hurt anyone.”

Before he could protest, she was kissing him again, her arms winding around his neck as she pulled him in closer. He hesitated, feeling every fiber of his being rejecting this, but her hand slid around to the back of his neck, urging him to deepen the kiss. Uncertain, he felt her hand snake up into his hair, tugging lightly as she pressed closer, the intensity escalating.

Oscar was caught off guard, feeling her press her hips into his, guiding his hands to rest on her waist. He’d barely noticed the way her eyes darted toward the door, a glint of mischief flashing in them as if she knew someone was watching.

He froze, suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of discomfort, his mind flooded with the realization of how much he didn’t want any of this. Summoning all the strength he had, he pushed her away, breaking the kiss and stepping back, his face flushed with frustration and embarrassment.

“Ava, this isn’t right,” he muttered, his voice strained. “I’m not comfortable with this at all. This isn’t what I signed up for.”

She smirked, feigning innocence. “Oh, really? You didn’t seem uncomfortable a second ago.”

He clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to snap back. “I’m doing this PR stunt for the sake of appearances. To protect someone I care about. But I’m not going to pretend that you and I…" he said, gesturing his finger in her direction and then back to himself "are anything real, because it's anything but.” He gestured to the door, his voice quiet but firm. “Please. Just leave.”

She shrugged, her smirk lingering as she made her way out, leaving him alone in the room, a strange mix of relief and dread pooling in his stomach.

*end of flashback*

The memory dissolved, and Oscar found himself back in the awkward quiet of his hotel room, his heart pounding in his chest as Lando’s words echoed in his mind. You’d seen it. You’d seen everything.

Oscar’s stomach twisted violently, leaving him feeling nauseated and weak. His mind was a churning mess, every second replaying the scene, the look on Ava’s face, the moment he’d seen her eyes flick toward the door. That sickening realization that she had known. And worse, that you had seen it all. It was as if the ground had been ripped out from under him; his legs felt unsteady, his heart beating erratically, each thud filling him with a helpless dread.

Lando looked down at him, his expression hard and unyielding, arms crossed tightly over his chest. There was no pity in his stare, only barely controlled rage mixed with something that might have been desperation. Lando’s voice was low, but the intensity cut through the air like a knife. “I don’t know if what you’re saying is true, Oscar, or if you’re just a damn good liar,” he said. “But if you’re serious about this, if you really care about her, you’d better get your ass over there and fix this. Because I don't ever wanna see that look on her face, ever again.”

Lando’s words struck hard, each one landing like a punch. The warning wasn’t just a threat; it was a declaration, a fierce brotherly loyalty that Oscar knew was unwavering. The way Lando looked at him, with such disdain mixed with pain, it cut Oscar to his core.

“If I find out you’re lying,” Lando continued, his jaw clenched, “I will make sure you lose that seat at McLaren. I’ll make it my mission, Oscar. You know how much my sister means to me.” He shook his head, an angered exhale escaping him. “I warned you about hurting her.”

Oscar couldn’t hold back any longer. His voice shook as he forced the words out, raw and desperate. “Lando, I swear to you, I’m telling the truth.” His hands clenched at his sides as he looked down, feeling his chest tighten painfully. “This is… it’s such a horrible misunderstanding. I never wanted any of this to happen.”

Emotion welled up inside him, a mix of fear, shame, and regret, and he felt his throat close up, his vision blurring. His breath grew uneven, and despite himself, a tear slid down his cheek. Then another, until he could feel the hot, shameful trail of them spilling freely, powerless to stop.

Lando’s expression softened slightly as he watched Oscar crumble before him, the fight momentarily leaving his own features as he absorbed the depth of Oscar’s remorse. He looked away for a moment, as if weighing his options, and then his voice came, gruff but more measured. “Then you need to go to her,” he said quietly. “Go to her, now. She’s going to be devastated. If you’re telling the truth, you can fix this. But you’d better go now.”

Oscar swallowed hard, nodding. He was already reaching for his jacket, his heart still pounding but with a sense of urgency to repair the damage. He couldn’t bear the thought of you feeling hurt, betrayed. The very thought twisted the knife in his gut, driving him forward.

“One more thing.” Lando’s voice stopped him in his tracks, and Oscar turned back to see him standing firm, his eyes cold again. “This PR thing—it’s making things worse. If you really want a future with her, end it. Because if this ever happens again, you’re going to lose her. And you’re going to lose a hell of a lot more.”

Oscar met his gaze, giving a solemn nod. “You’re right. I’ll stop it. I can’t… I can’t put her through this.” His voice was barely a whisper, but the conviction was there.

Lando held his gaze a beat longer, then sighed, giving a slight nod of grudging acceptance. “Go fix this, Oscar. And don’t make me regret trusting you.”

⁺⋆⁺₊⁺⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⁺⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⁺ ⋆⁺

After spending time with Lando, letting yourself unload the heartbreak and confusion, you’d assured him you’d be alright eventually—that you just needed some time alone. Retreating to your hotel room, you tried desperately to hold yourself together, to avoid being swallowed whole by the storm of emotions that seemed intent on drowning you. But the harder you tried, the more impossible it felt.

You caught your reflection in the bathroom mirror, and the sight was sobering. Your eyes were bloodshot, rimmed with smudged mascara that had streaked down your cheeks in uneven, telltale lines. You looked broken, more raw and vulnerable than you could remember feeling in a long time. The weight of it settled heavily, pressing down on you with each passing second.

A knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts. Startled, you wiped your face quickly, taking a deep, steadying breath before walking over to the door. You didn’t open it, unwilling to let anyone see you like this. “Lando,” you called out, your voice strained, “I told you I’m fine. Just… just go.”

But instead of your brother’s familiar voice, you heard the voice you least expected—and least wanted to hear.

“Y/N, it’s me,” Oscar’s voice was soft, rough around the edges. You froze, feeling your heart twist painfully at the sound of him. Every part of you wanted to sink against the door, to open it, to confront him. But instead, you stiffened, the hurt quickly filling the space where vulnerability once lingered.

“Just leave me alone,” you managed, barely able to keep the tremor out of your voice.

“Please, baby,” Oscar’s voice broke on the word, thick with desperation. “Please, open the door. Let me explain. It’s all… it’s all a big misunderstanding.”

A wave of emotion washed over you, and your chest tightened as you sank slowly to the floor, resting your back against the door as you fought to keep your voice steady. “There’s nothing to explain, Oscar. I was there. I saw it,” you whispered, pulling your knees up to your chest and burying your face between them, as if trying to block out the memory of it.

“You don’t get it, Y/N,” he pressed, his voice breaking again. “It wasn’t what it looked like.”

You let out a bitter laugh, muffled as you pressed your head against your knees. “Oscar,” you mumbled, voice hollow, “You had your tongue down her throat. There wasn’t any press around, no cameras to put on a show for. You can’t call it anything but what it was.” Your voice was so quiet, almost fragile, just loud enough for him to hear through the door. “Besides… It's not like you owe me anything. We were never exclusive. I’m not your girlfriend.” You swallowed hard, the words cutting deep. “And considering what I saw, it’s obvious you don’t want that either."

There was a long pause, the silence stretching between you two, heavy and painful. You could feel him on the other side of the door, his presence almost palpable, and it took everything in you not to reach for the handle. But your heart was guarded, waiting, hesitant to give in so easily.

The silence was broken by a ragged, unsteady breath, and then you heard him sink down to the floor on the other side of the door, mirroring you, with only the cold, impersonal wood between you.

“Please… please don’t say that,” he whispered, his voice barely holding together. “I know I don’t deserve for you to listen to me right now, but it wasn’t what you think. It wasn’t real.” His voice cracked, and you could hear the tremor in his words, the strain of holding back tears. “Ava, she… she forced it. I didn’t want it, I didn’t—I pushed her away.” His words were stumbling, broken by emotion, and you could feel his desperation as he tried to explain himself, to make you see the truth he was so desperate for you to understand.

You stayed silent, torn between wanting to believe him and the vivid memory of what you had seen. Part of you, the part that had loved and trusted him, wanted to believe every word. But another part, the one that had been hurt, was afraid to trust again, afraid to be vulnerable. You felt your throat tighten, your hands curling into fists as you struggled to hold back your own tears, feeling them dry on your cheeks as you pressed yourself harder against the door.

He paused, gathering himself before continuing, his voice raw with honesty and regret. “She kept… pushing it, saying we needed to make it look real enough for people to believe it. She’d go on about how it would all fall apart if we didn’t act convincing, kept saying we had to practice that stupid kiss.” He let out a shaky breath, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. “I told her no, but she just wouldn’t stop pressing, and then she just kissed me"

He took a shaky breath, his words fractured and heavy with guilt. “I-I didn’t want it,” he stammered, his voice thick as he tried to speak through his tears. “I swear… I didn’t want any of it.” His voice cracked, a choked sob escaping as he struggled to keep going, the desperation evident in every trembling syllable.

You heard him shift against the door, his back pressed firmly as if trying to ground himself. “I felt trapped,” he continued, his words punctuated by small, hitched breaths. “Like… like if I didn’t go along with it, I’d ruin everything—the whole stupid plan. And… I didn’t want to drag you into that. I was scared. I didn't want to ruin things for you”

Another tear-choked breath left him, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I… I couldn’t keep doing it. I pushed her away. I told her I couldn’t—” His voice broke, a raw, unsteady exhale filling the silence as he struggled to compose himself. “I told her it was wrong. I told her it was wrong, and I wanted it to stop.”

His voice faded, overcome by a quiet sob that made the door between you feel thin, almost nonexistent. The vulnerability in his tears was unmistakable, and even in the silence, you could feel the weight of his remorse pressing against you.

Oscar’s voice grew softer, pleading. “You don’t have to say anything if… if you don’t want to. But I just need you to know that it wasn’t me. I didn’t want that, any of it.” His voice faltered, but he kept going. “I’m done with this stupid agreement, this entire PR stunt. I’ll quit it—even if it doesn’t mean I get you back. I just… I can’t keep doing this. I love you, Y/N.” His voice dropped, barely more than a whisper, the words raw and honest.

The vulnerability in his voice tugged at something deep inside you, pulling you closer to that fine line between anger and forgiveness. You felt the sincerity of his words, the pain that bled through them, and despite yourself, part of you believed him. But the fear held you back, the hurt silencing the words that you wanted to say.

A silence fell between you, thick with unspoken words and shared pain. You could hear his shaky breathing through the door, and you knew he was crying. The sound wrenched at your heart, stirring a sadness that mixed with your own, leaving you feeling both hollow and heavy, unable to find the words to respond.

Moments later, footsteps echoed down the hallway. You could hear someone approaching, and then a familiar voice—one that made your stomach twist.

“Well, well, Oscar,” Ava’s voice cooed, feigning sympathy. “Is it really worth all this? She’s not worth it, you know.”

Oscar’s shoulders tensed, his breathing growing heavier as he turned to look at her, his eyes flashing with a newfound clarity, a sharpness born of betrayal. He recoiled from her, yanking his shoulder away from her touch, his expression a mixture of disgust and fury. Without a second thought, he rose to his feet, facing her with a look that could have frozen fire.

“You’ve done enough,” he spat, his voice low and filled with a venom you’d never heard before. “You’ve already ruined everything. Leave me alone.”

But Ava merely arched an eyebrow, her smile twisting as if amused by his anger. She opened her mouth, perhaps to retort, but Oscar didn’t give her a chance.

“Just… stay the hell away from me.” His voice was louder now, strong and unwavering, the raw pain of it echoing through the corridor. “I don’t ever want to see you near me again. Not at the track, not anywhere. You hear me?” He took a step back, his voice rising with each word, carrying both fury and anguish. “I’m done with this agreement. Done with you. Done with this entire PR stunt!”

The volume of his voice carried through the door, and even you could hear the finality in it. For a brief moment, the hurt and anger felt a bit lighter, a flicker of hope stirring beneath it all. The words he’d said, the fire in his voice—it felt real.

There was a shuffling of footsteps as Ava moved away, clearly surprised by his outburst. Oscar remained standing in the hallway, staring after her until the corridor grew silent again, empty save for him and the lingering echo of his words.

Slowly, he sank back down, his back pressed against the door again, his breath coming in short, shaky bursts. He didn’t say anything else, but his quiet, broken presence felt closer than words could convey. And though your heart was still bruised, still guarded, you found yourself shifting slightly, pressing your shoulder to the door, closer to where you knew he sat on the other side.

Oscar took a deep, shuddering breath, wiping at his eyes as he sat against the door. You listened to the sounds leaving the Australian's mouth, still pressed against the other side, your heart aching with every tear-choked word he’d spoken. Slowly, as silence settled around you both, you felt him begin to shift, his weight moving as he gathered himself to leave. He exhaled quietly, almost as if he were accepting that this was the end, that he’d done all he could.

The thought of him leaving stirred something urgent within you, a longing that broke through the hurt and fear. Without fully thinking it through, you reached for the handle. Just as Oscar rose, taking a few hesitant steps away, you opened the door.

“Oscar,” you whispered, reaching out to grab his arm.

He turned around sharply, his red-rimmed eyes wide with surprise as he stared down at you, disbelief mingling with the faintest glimmer of hope. For a long, fragile moment, the two of you simply looked at each other, the air thick with everything unsaid, every apology, every promise, every feeling that had built up over months. The intensity of his gaze, softened by the tears still brimming in his eyes, filled you with warmth, melting away the last of your hesitation.

You took a shaky breath, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I… I love you too, Oscar.”

The words seemed to break something within him. His face crumpled, a fresh tear slipping down his cheek as he reached out, cupping your face in his hands as if you were something precious, fragile, something he couldn’t bear to let slip away. His thumbs brushed over your cheeks, wiping away the last remnants of your tears, his gaze so full of tenderness and vulnerability that it took your breath away.

And then, without another word, he leaned in, his lips meeting yours with a quiet desperation, a raw need that spoke of every moment of anguish, of every ounce of longing he’d carried for you. His lips were soft but insistent, moving with a careful, almost reverent passion, as if he were pouring everything he felt into this one kiss. You could feel the slight tremble in his hands, the way his fingers pressed gently but firmly against your skin, grounding himself in your warmth.

The kiss deepened, slowly, his lips parting as he moved closer, pulling you into him as if he couldn’t bear to be separated by even a breath. His tears mingled with yours, salty and warm, the emotions overwhelming as the kiss became a quiet exchange of love and sorrow, each movement a promise, a silent plea to never let go. Your hands found their way to his shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you held him close, grounding yourself in the solid warmth of him.

His tongue brushed lightly against your bottom lip, a gentle request that you answered by parting your lips, allowing him in. As your tongues met, a wave of emotion washed over you both, the kiss growing deeper, more intense, every second drawing you closer, until it felt as though nothing else in the world existed but the two of you. The taste of him, the softness of his lips, the way his breath mingled with yours—it was intoxicating, and you felt yourself melting into him, surrendering fully to the quiet, consuming love that bound you together.

His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you flush against him as the kiss grew needier, more fervent, yet still so achingly tender. Your lips moved together in perfect harmony, slow and deliberate, savoring each touch, each taste, until the world seemed to fade away. He tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss even further, his tongue caressing yours with a slow, deliberate intimacy that left you breathless. It was as if he was pouring every unsaid word, every unexpressed feeling, into this moment, and you could feel it in every movement, every touch, every trembling breath.

After what felt like a lifetime, the two of you slowly broke apart, your foreheads coming to rest against each other as you both tried to catch your breath, your eyes still closed, savoring the warmth and closeness. His hands lingered on your cheeks, his thumbs brushing gently over your skin as if he couldn’t bear to stop touching you, to lose this connection even for a moment.

“Please,” you murmured, your voice soft and full of emotion. “Please be mine.”

Oscar’s breath hitched, and he opened his eyes, his gaze meeting yours with a vulnerability that took your breath away. “I’ve always been yours,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

You managed a small, tearful smile, your fingers brushing over his cheek, wiping away the remnants of his tears. “I mean… for real this time. Be my boyfriend. Please,” you said, your voice a soft, tender plea.

A smile broke through his tears, a pure, radiant joy lighting up his face as he looked at you, his eyes shimmering with a love so deep it was almost overwhelming. “There’s nothing I would love more,” he murmured, his voice soft and trembling with happiness.

And in that moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, you felt the pain and heartache begin to fade, replaced by a quiet, steady warmth, a promise of something real, something lasting.

—————⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺—————

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Taglist @aceyalonso @saachiep81 @landosgirlxoxo @andruuu28 @il0vereadingstuff @silentreader128 @edixttor @sugakookie132 @a-beaverhausen

#f1 fanfic #formula 1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 smut #friends to lovers #fluff #mclaren #op81 #smut #angst #oscar piastri #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader

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chillinglyadventurous · 4 months ago

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The Fever

Thank you so much for the request!!!

Stanford Pines x Reader

Tags: Fluff, sick

It started out with a sneeze. You didn’t think much of it. You’d been trudging through the rain with Dipper and Mabel in search of a scampfire just to prove to your boyfriend you could find one without his help. Ford had told you it wasn’t going to happen. The weather conditions weren’t right. It was about to rain and unseasonably cold for mid August.

How the kids didn’t get sick was beyond you because you felt like death. You were freezing and shaking, but hot and sweaty all at once. You couldn’t decide whether you were more comfortable in your sweatpants and one of Ford’s sweaters that you had stolen from his closet or in barely anything at all. You couldn’t tell whether the heat or the cold was worse.

Had it not been for Stan’s big mouth, Ford wouldn’t have even known you were sick. Besides the occasional sniffle, you looked okay-ish. No. You looked like hell, but makeup helped hide it. “Geez, [Y/N], quit coughin’ or you’ll get the whole house sick!”

Ford’s head had snapped in your direction, finally taking a good look at you. He’d been busy, usually only climbing into your shared bed after you had knocked yourself out cold with a shot of NyQuil syrup. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick? I would have dropped every-“

“I’m fine,” you insisted only to be betrayed by a slurry of hacking. You resigned under his intense gaze. “Fine, I’m sick. It’s not a big deal. I just have a cold. I’ll be fine.”

Without another word, Ford’s large hand was placed to your forehead to gauge your temperature. First his palm, then the back of his hand. He moved to your flushed cheeks, bright red visible beneath the makeup you had tried to conceal it with.

Ford gave you a disappointed look, “You have a fever of 102! You most certainly are not ‘fine’, darling.”

He pulled you out of your chair only for Stan to call out as you followed Ford to your bedroom. “Yeah, get Patient 0 out of my kitchen!”

Quickly, Ford had you in his bed, stripped of your day clothes and into one his sweaters. His flannel pajama pants were on you soon after. On his bed, he slipped three pairs of socks onto your feet and bundled you up in every blanket he could get his hands on.

“You need to sweat it out,” he ordered as he tucked the blankets around your form. You were successfully burrito-d. “Once your fever breaks, the worst is over.”

You had expected him to be a bit more wary around, very cautious of whatever germs you could give him, but he kissed your forehead before leaving you in his room. After a single minute, you were bored. You tried to stand, but he had tucked you in too tightly. The most you could do was sit up, barely able to reach the book on his bedside table.

You groaned in disgust as you read the title. Statically Accurate Knowledge. With nothing better to do, you opened it only to be further disappointed. The book in your hands, all 472 pages of it, was just a run-on equation. Nerd.

Just as you were resigned yourself to counting the floorboards, Ford reappeared with a hot cup of tea. “Drink this. It should right you in a second.” He laughed as you timidly sniffed at the liquid he had given you. Of course it wasn’t chamomile or some pleasant flavor. “It’s best if you don’t smell it.”

“What is it?” You asked, voice scratchy as you spoke.

He pet over your hair which was already damp. Your shivers had mildly subsided, but he could still see your teeth trying to chatter. “Well, it will make you tired. You’ll sleep whatever is plaguing you off.”

You were already exhausted, but you held your breath and downed the steaming liquid. Your body instantly relaxed. You felt warm, so comfortably warm. Then, drowsiness overcame you.

Ford laid you down again. Before he could leave you? You grabbed the sleeve of his sweater. His eyes were kind as they landed on you. “Stay with me?” You whispered, your eyelids so, so heavy.

“Certainly.”

With the blankets curled around you, acting as a barrier, Ford held you close. He tucked your head beneath his chin as you dozed off. You hoped you’d feel better in the morning, but, maybe, you’d play this up for a little longer once you were feeling better. You loved when he took care of you.

#gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #stanford pines #ford pines #ford pines x reader #stanford pines x reader #stanley pines #chillinglyadventurousfics #stan pines

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haechoxo · 7 months ago

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[11:03 pm]

two weeks barely crept by.

an unbearable two weeks of virtually nothing, half-assed dms, shared instagram posts, before haechan just stopped altogether. the hangouts and nights spent together no longer existed. as if your friendship no longer existed. the most contact you had beyond whatever this could even be considered was stolen glances at the group’s regular cafe meetups and apartment hangouts that jaemin so very obliviously insisted on both of you showing up to, and neither of you would dare to break jaemin’s heart.

johnny threw another party, doyoung taking initiative soon after and promising it would be chill this time. it was the only way he could convince everyone to show up after the last one.

“stop crowding me!” your speech was a bit slurred, having drunk a lot more than usual. choosing to stay around mark, chenle, and jisung was proving to be a poor decision on your part with the way they’ve successfully managed to box you in near the back door. mark sighed, giving chenle and jisung a look, effectively sending them off to give you some space as he rubbed your back in a comforting gesture, but you shoved him off, grabbing another beer and stepping out onto the porch for some fresh air by yourself.

another poor choice on your part as you were unaware of haechan exiting from the other door as well, stepping out for a smoke break.

“so you and mark, huh?” he broke the silence. god, why does he have to speak?

“what does... what do you care?” you mumbled, taking a long sip of the cheap beer.

“think prim and proper gentlemanly mark is gonna appreciate you drinking that much?” the audacity.

“what. do you. care? what does it matter to you or mark?” silence. he’s taken aback by your tone, only now is he picking up on the inebriated state you’re in. “‘s not like you ever did.” you’re not making any sense.

“huh?” now he’s playing dumb, of course, looking at you like you grew a second head.

“what are you goin’ on about?”

“why do you get to react to all that i do constantly? why are you the only one allowed to be jealous, say- say all your bullshit and make me feel bad!” you scoff, “mark was never the problem, right? i was. w-what does she have... that i don’t?” any snide remark he had ready to fire, died on his tongue as he watched your glassy bloodshot eyes glare back at him.

“it’s not fair, donghyuck.” he flinches, hearing his own name leave your lips in such fashion. “you don’t get to act like i’m yours if you won’t show me, it’s not fair for you to act like we were nothing. i gave you everything, hyuck, and you left me.” why are you telling him all of this? he’s just standing there in stunned silence, without a care in the world, and your words just keep pouring out, one for each sip of that disgusting cocktail taeyong mixed earlier.

“you were doing so well at leaving me alone before, but you’re really fucking bad at it right now.”

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a/n ; ok chapter five………. not as exciting as the last ones….. not sure if i like it too much i read it over a few times and had bff proofread as well soooo hope u enjoy!! advice is appreciated! xoxo jelly

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cloverfieldds · 22 days ago

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someone requested for the full thing so um here ^^!

tw - detrans, religious play, cnc

being corrupted by a prest at a convent.

heading to a confessional full of guilt because you promised you wouldn’t engage in any more sinful behaviors or thoughts, but you’ve been binding lately and denying your god given sex.

you shyly step into the confessional box and stay silent as you’re scared to utter any words. its like you know that he knows why youre here.

“forgive me father..” you choke on your words, already ready to cry at the thought of his response.

“save it, my child. how many times are we to go through with this? i’m starting to think you want the devil to keep a hold on you.”

“no!” you cry out in desperation, feeling sick at the mere thought. “my body just feels wrong, father. like im not supposed to be… a girl”

no response. you can feel the disappointment through a heavy sigh followed by the opening of his door. your eyes begin to water as thoughts embrace your mind, telling you that he’s given up on you and that youre beyond healing. you stifle the cries threatening to leave your throat as your hands lay themselves over your lips. you’ve disappointed everyone in the church, not just yourself.

the door opens for you, only slightly, a crack of light hitting your eye as it does.

the priest locks eyes with you, a furrowed, disgusted expression on his face. “follow me,” he utters before turning around and leading you to his office.

you hesitantly follow him and look around the empty sanctuary, happy no one is there to have overheard anything, to have seen how disappointed youre making everyone. you step into his office, surprisingly for the first time, and watch as he gestures you to sit down, his seat right across from yours, save from his desk between you two. you sit in an uncomfortable silence and try your best to focus on not crying even though the tears are seconds from falling from your eyes.

the silence itself has gone on too long, it feels like it’s been hours of him just staring you down. you open your mouth to break it but as soon as you try speaking you choke and those tears start to fall. uncontrollable sobbing emits from your side of the desk and you begin wiping your tears slower than they fall. “im sorry.. m so so sorry father please dont be mad i tried please.”

you hear a slight groan from him as you cry out and force yourself to lock eyes with him. he is clearly irritated at you, but there is only so much you can do, right? this isnt really your fault. its the devil.

he calls out your name, “truthfully, youre trying your hardest—dedicating your life to the lord like you should be?” you shakingly nod. he falls silent once more and you find yourself looking down to the floor again. his eyes dont leave you but he still doesnt speak. this suffocation making you only more nauseated within yourself. “would you do anything to reconnect with the lord and fix yourself, my child?”

“yes! yes, father! i would!” you cry out.

“…come here.”

you look back up and watch as his chair slightly swivels to the right, indicating for you to walk around his desk and stand directly in front of him. tears continue streaming down your face as your eyes gaze upon his shoes. the same black leather shoes that youve seen a thousand times before during service. but this time it seems just a bit more humiliating.

“father..”

“hush, child.” his hand reaches toward your arm and slowly slides down to grab onto your hand. “god created these hands, my child. such girly, feminine hands,” he moves his hand to your hips, gladly watching you flinch at each and every movement. “such a godly frame going to waste. if your parents knew half of the things youve told me, im sure theyd strip you down to the core of your soul and make you apologize for every sin youve confessed to me.” you can feel every movement against your skin, slightly shaking as he slips his hand beneath your shirt, pausing as he gets to your binder. your breath hitches upon the realization.

“father.!”

“you confess your sins to me while still committing them?” you cant find it in yourself to respond. “take it off.”

you raise a brow, your crying coming to a temporary stop. “father.. could you.. turn around?”

“how am i sure you wont lie to me again? take it off. ill be watching.” your hands shake as you start to move, but you cant deny an order from the only person who knows your secret, the only one who can and would help you. he watches silently as you lift your top, hanging it on the wrist of your arm while you close your eyes and force the binder from your skin. you start to cry once more, but keep yourself going with the thought that hes just trying to help.

your binder is off, and you move to slide your shirt back onto your body, but quickly open your eyes back up once his hand grabs your wrist.

“did i say to put that back on?”

you shake your head, “but sir”

“put your hands down.” slowly, you listen to his command, only crying more at the action as you do. “stay still.” you watch as his hands move to your chest. you wanna say something, scream for help, anything, but you cant. everyone will know if they see, the binder you once wore so clearly laying out on his desk. your eyes close again as he starts to fondle you. and even though your eyes are closed, you can feel his gaze on your chest, almost like theyre following the movement of his own hands as he gropes and pinches at you. you hold in sounds of discomfort.

“this is what these are meant for. youre ruining yourself squishing them against that rib cage of yours. god’s creations are not meant to be hidden.” you wince as he pinches your nipple.

it feels like forever has gone by of him stimulating your chest, your thighs now subconsciously and slightly rubbing together as the feeling has started to turn you on. just as you hoped he wouldnt notice, you almost jump as he places a hand on the waistband of your boxers and starts to pull them down in a bundle with your pants. your hands shoot down to grip onto the fabric as your eyes lock with his. you can feel your heart skip a beat as he raises an eyebrow, a silent warning not to do anything stupid. you cant find it in yourself to move your hands. your binder- your chest is one thing but this? no one is supposed to see you like this.

“please.. ill be good, ill throw the binder and boxers and everything away, please,” you cry out as your fists tighten around the fabric.

he stares in silence as pleas leave your mouth on mindless repeat. within a few minutes his hands leave your pants and you can feel a wave of relief wash over you.

“get on your knees.” you shakingly fall to the floor, thinking nothing more than him sparing your nudity. your crying quickly stops once more as you watch him unbuckle his pants, staring at you as he does so. “youre going to cleanse yourself.” his dick is pulled from his boxers, stroking it with care as he stares at you. “ill teach you what it means to be a man, why you can never be one yourself.” and again, your tears begin to flow. you watch as his hand reaches for your hair, gripping it in your hands as you feel strands strain against your scalp. you cant beg anymore, your hand holds onto his wrist as a silent ask for mercy, but a sting is quickly felt on your cheek as a heavy hand makes impact with your cheek. “open.”

you oblige.

within moments, youre sucking off your pastor as he forces your tongue down his shaft, occasionally giving you instruction on how to make himself feel good. his thickness strains against the inside of your mouth as his moans fill your ears. your nipples rub against the cloth of his pants as he fucks your mouth, wetness forming in your boxers as he does so.

soon his moans grow longer, instructions of what to do turning more and more into praises from his lips. the praise sending a shiver down your spine. your face is suddenly pushed against his pubes as he twitches against you, cum shooting down your throat as you try your best to swallow in order to not drown in cum.

with a pop, dick is removed from your mouth as any remaining cum drips from your lips and down your chin. you look up at him with a pathetic, whiny look that sends blood straight back to his cock. “you have no idea how whorish you are, my child. stand up.”

you stand on his command and try simultaneously wiping the tears from your eyes while removing the cum from your mouth. you watch his hand start to stroke his cock once more in a horrified silence. his hand moves back to your waistband and begins sliding them down once more. you dont have the will to stop him this time, but that doesnt stop you from begging him to not go through with this, making desperate promises of staying a girl and not going through with your transition. he ignores you as annoyance rises within him.

“ill make sure you stick to that.” quickly your pants and boxers are on the floor, a slight wetness on your inner thighs. slick coats them and youre guided to spread your legs as he licks his fingers and rubs your clit. “are you still a virgin, my child?”

you nod, embarrassed.

“tch,” he kisses his teeth. “the only godly thing about you.” you look away as he keeps on stimulating you, holding in your moans while your lips are coated in your own juices. just as you get used to the feeling, you can feel a foreign feeling at your lips, quickly looking down just in time to see him push a finger inside of you, a pained moan escape you as he does so. you cry out while your body falls forward and your hands find stability on his shoulders.

“no..!” you sob against him as he starts to move, not waiting for you to adjust to the feeling. “father! i havent.. please!”

he ignores you and continues to thrust in and out, the sound of your juices coating his finger filling your ears as his moans once did. quickly a second finger joins his first and you fully buckle over on top of him, your knee placed in between his legs on his chair as your pants drop and are left wrapped around one ankle.

“youll be ready soon, my child. dont cry.” he spits out disgustingly soothing words while you cry anyway. the thickness of his fingers is too much, and you can only imagine how painful itll be when he finally fucks you.

almost as if reading your mind, his fingers pull themselves out and his slaps your pussy before moving a hand back to his cock. “thatll be enough.”

your eyes widen as speaks, knowing yourself that it isnt enough at all. “no, father just a bit more.. please!”

he ignores you and gestures for you to climb on top of him as you cry out.

“no! no!” you grab his hand and lead it back towards your boycunt, pathetically grinding against it in hopes that hell continue to fingerfuck you. “see? just a bit more! please! pl-“

a harsh hand hits your cheek once more, that familiar sting shutting you up and stopping your cries.

“get up here or ill inflict a godly punishment onto you.”

your hand grips onto his shoulder for stability as you slowly climb on top of him, apologizing to god as you do. your lips tremble while you speak and do your best to keep from any more physical punishment.

his cockhead glides against your lips, the wetness from his spit, your slick, and his cum mixing together. he tries to push in, slipping against your lips as it doesn’t go. a simple “relax” leaves his mouth as if its that easy, but you try anyway. and within a few more tries, the pain from his initial entrance hits you. you let out a guttural moan as your head falls onto his shoulder, crying out in pain. he wastes no time moving deeper inside of you. your fingers grip onto his shoulders and you continue to beg for mercy. the tightness of your virgin walls doesnt help your desperation. with a final thrust, hes completely inside of you, listening to your heavy breathing as you subconsciously clench around his dick. he pauses for a bit, finally letting you catch your breath as he rubs circles on your back, calling you a good girl and loving the feeling of your pussy every time the words leave his lips.

“are you alright?” you shake your head, unable to speak. he doesnt seem to care.

his hands grip onto your hips and quickly start to thrust himself into you. you let out another painful cry, feeling nothing but regret. you wish you left the church and let him tell everyone. you wish you never took your binder off or let him remove your boxers. you wish your stupid boycunt didnt get wet from all the friction on your nipples. you wish you didnt let him grope and molest you like that. but it doesnt seem to matter. your hole burns and hes thrusting into you like his life depends on it.

“this is.. your role as a wom.. as a woman.” he groans into your ear. “do you hear me?” you can only sob out incoherent responses. “you were made.. made for this, my child.” you clench around his dick every time he speaks, like some dirty and raw part of you likes being spoken to like this. “thinking.. someone as slutty as you? someone so.. fuck,” you jump (well, as much as you can) at his swearing, “so clearly made for being penetrated was meant to.. to be a boy?”

“..m sorry.. sorry sorry” you apologize between chokes and cries.

“fuck.. even touching you is corrupting me. youll need to pray every hour if you want forgiveness at this.. at this rate.” you can feel your body convulsing at his words, begging him to stop because something unholy is clearly building up inside of you, but he doesnt care. if anything, he goes faster, finger moving towards your clit as he starts to rub with a painfully blissful harshness.

“such a perfect cunt.. fucking.. tight whore…” his teeth latch onto your neck as he continues to fuck you, wet sounds emitting from both of you and echoing around his office. “made to be bred. arent you?”

your head shots up as he thrusts against your gspot, watching your back arch as he does it once more. “no..! n..no! not ins..inside!” you fight back once more, hands pounding against his shoulders as you cum, crying out in agony while he keeps on fucking you. “please!”

his hand moves up to your throat, annoyed with your writhing and begging, aiming to cum inside you without care for your disarrayed demeanor.

within moments, his thrusts become more and more broken and disorganized. groans are forced into your ear as he pulls you towards him. you feel his cock twitch inside of you as hot cum coats your walls. you moan out, as much as you can with a hand gripped around your throat, before he releases you and allows your coughing fit on his shoulder, falling forward and trying to catch your breath while cum drips out of your full pussy.

a few moments of silence are interrupted as he begins to kiss up and down your neck before lifting you off of him. he smiles at the sound you make when he removes himself from your boycunt. youre lazily cleaned and redressed in a daze.

“i expect to see you at service this sunday, is that clear?” he buckles his pants back.

“..yes, father.”

#ftm girl #detrans kink #cnc k!nk #ftm bottom #ftm ns/fw #religious play #religion kink #religious kink #priest kink #ftm misgendering #detrans r@pe #r@pe play #r@pe fantasy #queer nsft #detrans nsft #nsft asks #queer ns/fw #ns/fw

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antinousletmehit · 1 month ago

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hi hiiiii

submittin an ask since idk if anyone asked for him yet

*inhales* ANTINOUS DATING HEADCANONS WITH SOME SUGGESTIVE STUFF GO GO GO (/nf take ur time also i love aphrodite’s gambit so far keep up the great work!! ^^)

୨୧┇pairing: Antinous x fem!reader

୨୧┇note: AHHHHH ANTINOUS MENTIONED. ILY for this, finally a antinous ask in my inbox I love that man. Grammar might be off on this one too.

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

🍷- congratulations on getting this deadbeat as a lover!! We don’t know how you did it, but we also really don’t wanna know!!!🎉🎉🎊🎊

🍷-I feel like in the beginning of the relationship he’d really only care about sex most of the time and flaunt you off to the other suitors.

“LOOK AT THIS BADDIE I BAGGED!!”

The crowd turned away and groaned.

🍷- He’d also be a bit of an asshole in the beginning too. For example, if he ever got jealous you’ve been hanging out with a suitor for too long he straight up slaps your ass and walks away smirking with no regard for your embarrassment.

🍷- but as the relationship progresses he gets somewhat worse better. He basically just starts acting as your own horny guard dog.

🍷- In terms of affection, I feel like he’d be very hesitant at first but then kinda gets used to it in private, but now you have a clingy antinous who refuses to sleep if his head isn’t buried in your tits chest. Oh and PDA is a big no for him UNLESS he’s jealous, then his hands are ALLLL over you until he feels like letting go.

🍷- For some reason I’d like to think antinous isn’t very good at reading, nor can he write AT ALL, and so whenever he writes you a letter once in a blue moon, this is what it would look like

“I lvoe yuo sou muf, yuor tats aer bij teo”

Translation: I love you so much, your tits are big too.

🍷- He would also flex his muscles to impress you and tells you the “heroic” story of each scar on his body.

🍷- since the fandom pretty much agrees antinous has a huge scar on one of his eyes, making him half blind 90% of the time. I’d like to think he LOVESSS it when you kiss around that eye, like it drives him insane.

🍷- He likes kissing you around your neck and shoulder area. Likes receiving kisses near his injured eye and his scars.

🍷- If you hate how he treats Telemachus he’ll stop messing with him frequently and just makes the suitors mess with him instead without you knowing. But if you like to hate on Telemachus too he’d do it much more often to entertain you and himself.

🍷- This man’s temper and jealousy issues are beyond comprehension so expect an argument to happen ever so often. Most of the time it gets resolved by freaky time in bed, but if you have a especially bad one do NOT expect this man to apologize first. Whether or not he was right or wrong that man is way too prideful to apologize for shit. In fact he is waiting for an apology from YOU.

🍷- after a bad argument what he’ll usually do is ghost you and avoid you until you apologize. But in the rare instances that he does apologize first it’s “yea my fault ig….can we make out-“ a slap to the face.

🍷- If he ever sees a suitor harass you, they’re gone the next day. Don’t ask how.

🍷- There was definitely a moment where Telemachus caught you two making out and anitnous ran after him, threading to wring his neck if he interrupted them again. Let me write this out

🍷- His lips captured yours before you could say another word, the kiss deep and consuming. He pulled you flush against him, one hand tangled in your hair while the other rested firmly at your waist. The world seemed to disappear as his intensity drew you in, every thought and worry melting away. That is, until—

“Y/N?”

The voice was sharp and startled, and you both froze. Antinous broke the kiss, turning his head just in time to see Telemachus standing in the doorway, his eyes wide with shock and tremendous disgust.

“What the—?” Telemachus began, but Antinous was already moving.

“Telemachus!” Antinous barked, his tone exasperated as he straightened up. “Do you not know how to knock?”

“This is a public hall!” Telemachus shot back, his face turning red as he pointed accusingly. “Where the hell could I possibly knock!?”

Antinous groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Stay here,” he muttered to you, his tone softening just slightly. “I’ll handle this.”

Before you could respond, he was already stalking after Telemachus, who already began running away down the hall.

🍷- he can’t control his 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴

#epic the musical #epic the musical x reader #antinous #epic antinous #antinous x reader

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kenmaswoman · 7 months ago

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confessing to atsumu - fluff , 1.1k words

almost everybody assumed you were friends with osamu because of your massive crush on atsumu. To be fair, you were never really good at hiding your feelings, whether it be the way you blushed when he simply greeted you in the corridors or the way you begged osamu to let you join one of their practices one day. Everybody knew you had a crush on atsumu. You didn’t really care though, you were friends with his brother, not him so what’s the worst that could happen? him rejecting you? you’ll simply move on.

It worried you at times because you did not want osamu to think that the only reason why you befriended him in the first place was to get closer to atsumu. But as time passed you realized he knew your bond went beyond your silly (disgusting) crush on his twin.

“how come you’ve never told tsumu you liked him?” osamu asked you sitting on his bed “it never really mattered, he knows i like him, everybody does. and he’s never mentioned it to me” you reply “for what it’s worth i genuinely do not think he knows” osamu says “knows what?” atsumu asks barging in “none ‘yer business get out” osamu yells at his brother “what? I can’t be third wheel for today” he says as osamu laughed. if only he knew… “no yer can’t. plus i’ve gotta go for a short while. wait for me here?” osamu asks turning to you “fuck no. why would i wait hours in your room bored as fuck when i can go home?” you replied back “i’ll make dinner when i come back” says your friend “‘kay i’m sold” you say sprawling on his bed “entertain her for me please” samu says to his brother before leaving

you’ve seldom hung out with atsumu alone, which is part of the reason why your palms are a little sweatier than you’d like to admit. you reminded yourself you should not worry tho, he was just a silly boy after all.

“so what were you talking about earlier?” atsumu asks. man he really was not going to leave you alone “the massive crush i have on someone” you reply nonchalantly. he knew of this crush already so why should you be ashamed “you have a crush on someone????” he asks, it makes you get up in an instant. no way he was being serious “atsumu be for real right now” you say in disbelief. was this man THIS much oblivious? “you like samu right? i thought you guys were dating so calling it a crush is super weird to me” he replies looking at you dead in the eye. he was indeed this much oblivious.

“you’re laughing a little too hard at me right now, it’s hurting my feelings” atsumu says, you could hear the pout in his voice. “i’m sorry it’s just unbelievable to me. me dating osamu???? never in a million years oh my god” you say wiping a tear from your eye. “then who’s this mysterious crush? i want to be in on it too” he asks. you could tell him, you thought he knew already so telling him now wouldn’t make much of a difference. plus if he were to reject you right now, you’d have osamu’s cooking to look forward to. “you. i like you. it’s so obvious too, everybody knows about it” you say not looking at him. bravery was not an adequate adjective to describe you “samu knew?” he asked “yea, told him the first time i talked to him, wanted to get it out of the way so he knew i wasn’t using him to get to you” you reply laying back down on osamu’s bed, grabbing one of his pillows to place on your stomach “this fucking bitch” was all astumu muttered, making you look up to him confused. he was taking a real long time to answer your confession

“before you even befriended to osamu i kept talking to him about how i had this massive crush on you. when he started befriending you i was sooo mad and jealous and at one point i assumed you guys started dating because you got closer and you’d constantly be here and hang in his room with the door closed, also you guys would eat together and shit… he’d even cook for you! he never cooks for me when i ask him to only when he’s in the mood… so eventually i stopped mentioning my crush on you because you know it’d be disrespectful to like my brother’s girlfriend. but now that i know that he knew you liked me this whole time and never said anything to me???? i’m gonna kill him.” he rambles

“you like me too?” you asked surprised, fully seated up once again. “yea but that’s not my concern right now. just wait until the bitch gets hom-“ he says before getting cut off to the front door opening. you were half amazed at the timing and half baffled at how you guys liking each other was ‘not his concern right now’.

“you. come here” atsumu says yelling at osamu “why’s he mad?” your friend asks you. you didn’t answer though, still busy trying to come up with the best way to shake some sense into atsumu. “you knew this whole time. THIS WHOLE TIME. that she liked me and never said anything even though you knew i liked her back??? i even stopped mentioning her because i thought you were dating why would you not correct me on that??” atsumu says his hands gripping his hair out of frustration. “you thought her and i were dating?… i guess a lot more things make sense now” osamu replies a hand on his chin. and before atsumu could even reply he received a kick right in his rib

“ouch. why would you do that” atsumu says rubbing his side pouting at you “ i’m sorry ‘not your concern right now’??!!! i’m gonna make this your concern boy” you say threateningly “why do you cook for her if you’re not dating?” atsumu asks “she bribes me. a real gaslighter this one” he says moving to the kitchen to prep dinner. and as he sees you pounding on his brother to get him to pay attention to the milestone you guys seemed to have reached, he sighs knowing that his days will inevitably get worse as time progresses. maybe he should’ve let atsumu think you guys were dating for a little longer. perhaps until he no longer shared the same house as his twin

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allisluv · 2 months ago

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[post-war] johanna w an s/o that became attached to a stray cat that's absolutely disgusting, like matted fur, fleas and ticks, starving, sick, and smelly.

johanna won't let her girlfriend bring it inside so her girlfriend is outside during the cold winter feeding and trying to nuture this cat back to health.

one day, reader goes out to check on the cat and can't find it. she gets super worked up and runs back inside to find jo, to tell her the sad news, but she finds jo leaning over the bathtub, her front half soaked with bath water, as she's trying to wash this cat..

roscoe.

pairing: johanna mason x fem!reader

content warnings: pre-established relationship, set post war, jo hates animals cause of a bad experience, use of petnames (doll, babe, baby), chiwawa slander (sorry!), strong language but that's not new, a bit of grumpy x sunshine because i love that trope!!

word count: 0.9k

Johanna has never been an animal person. Well, no, that is a bit of a lie. Correction; she has never been an animal person since she was attacked by a bastard of a chiwawa at the tender age of six. Rocky has since given her a very personal vendetta against animals big and small.

So, in the early days after the war, when you come home with a stray cat that you have christened Roscoe, she has a big problem with it. It’s obvious to anyone with a brain that Johanna loves you. In fact, she would even go as far as to say she loves you more than life itself. But when it comes to animals, especially evil things like cats, that is where she draws the line.

She puts a good three feet between the two of you when she sees the cat in your arms. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she tries to keep her temper in check. “Doll, that… thing is not staying in the house.”

You frown and immediately start protesting. “But I’ve given him a name and all!”

Johanna huffs out a sigh. “Babe, I don’t care if you’ve bought the thing a birth certificate, it is not staying in the house.”

“Why the hell not?”

She arches a brow, giving you a disapproving look as if the answer is clear. “Well, for starters, his fur is matted beyond belief. It’s all skin and bones, too. I bet it’ll die in a week.”

“Jo! Don’t be mean.” You scold, holding the cat close to your chest. “Don’t listen to your mom, Roscoe. Shes just being cranky.”

Johanna rolls her eyes. “I am not that cat’s mom. And you know I’m telling the truth, babe.”

You shoot her a glare. “Poor thing was left here all on its own after the bombings. He must have been scared by all of the noise.” You smooth underneath Roscoe’s chin and he purrs in response. “Look, he likes me!”

She groans. “Babe, you know I’d give you the world if you asked me to, but that thing is not gonna last a week. You shouldn’t get attached to it.”

You wave a dismissive hand. “He’ll be fine. Remind me to pick up some milk for him in the markets. Dyou think he’ll eat tuna?”

“Doll-, Remi—”

“Roscoe.”

“Remi, Roscoe, Riley, whatever you’ve called him, is going right back outside.”

“But—”

“Now, baby.”

You sigh. Maybe Johanna has a pint in some ways, but you can’t help but feel awful as you put Roscoe back out the front door and watch him bound away down the half- repaired street.

Johanna walks up behind you and wraps her arms around your waist, resting her chin on the top of your head. “Do you know cats can fend for themselves?”

“Its still not fair. He’s only a baby, Jo.” You sigh, melting into her touch when she presses a kiss to your head. “‘M mad at you now.”

Johanna resists the urge to laugh. You’re far too kind for your own good. “Would you feel better if we made some of those cookies I know you like?”

You try to stay mad at her, but the offer is too appealing to pass up. “Fine. But only if you do all the work. And I am still buying him fish and milk.”

“Whatever you want, angel. But he’s not coming back in to the house. He could have fleas or something.”

“You have fleas,” You murmur.

Johanna laughs. “Oi. Watch it or you won’t get any cookies.”

✩──────────✩─────────✩

As the months pass by, Roscoe comes to your front door at seven o’clock in the morning and evening every day for his dinner. Despite Johanna’s insistence that he’s not allowed in the house, she doesnt try to stop you from taking care of him, so long as you’re outside.

It begins to get colder and one day, you come home from the marketplace with a carton of milk and a metal can of tuna in your hands. You pour both of them into the bowls by your front door and wait, rocking on the balls of your feet.

It’s not unusual for Roscoe to come and go as he pleases, but when you’ve been outside for an hour and he doesn’t make an appearance, worry starts to gnaw at your gut.

You slip back into the house and do the only thing you can think of. “Jo?!”

You can hear Johanna hiss in pain and curse underneath her breath from inside the bathroom. Your brows furrow and you follow the noise, noticing the high-pitched mewl that comes from behind the door. You breathe out a sigh of relief and push open the door, only to become even more puzzled,

Johanna’s hunched over the bath, holding Roscoe with one hand and using a jug to pour water over him with the other.

“Are you drowning him?” You squeal, rushing to her side.

Johanna laughs at that. “What do you take me for, babe? I’m not drowning him, I’m giving him a bath,” she rolls her eyes.

You frown. “You’re… giving him a bath?”

“Yeah. He’s smelly,” Johanna shrugs.

“But you hate him.”

“Well, by the looks of things, he is not going anywhere anytime soon, so we might as well make him presentable or something.”

You grin. “You like him, don’t you?”

Johanna’s lips twitch. “I don’t hate him.”

You kneel down beside her and pet Roscoe’s wet coat of black fur. A giggle slips past your lips before you have a chance to stop it. “Well, I reckon he’ll hate you after this bath.”

She rolls her eyes. “Somehow I think I’ll live.”

#grace talks🐚🌷#the hunger games #thgs #thg #johanna mason #johanna mason x reader #johanna mason x you #fluff #sapphic #wlw #blurb #johanna mason fluff #drabbke #oneshot #fem!reader #catching fire #mockingjay #jena malone

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 2 years ago

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Who Taught You How to Love Like That? - Chapter One

Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x f!reader Warnings: Sugar daddy/sugar baby dynamics. Word count: ~2.5k

Chapter summary: Desperate to pay off her student loans, she downloads a dating app with a twist, and makes an interesting match.

She sighs, her eyes scanning over the PDF of her payslip for the month, before locking her phone and letting it drop heavily onto the kitchen counter.

“Bad news?” Mysaria quirks an eyebrow, sliding a glass of wine across to her.

“These student loan repayments are fucking killing me. I’ve basically worked an entire week for free this month.” She complains, taking a huge swig from her glass.

“Bummer.” Her flatmate says. “Any way I can help?”

“Unless your mattress is secretly stuffed full of cash, no. Super Noodles for me for the rest of the month, once I’ve paid my share of the rent.”

“You could give being a sugar baby a try?” Mysaria says with a smirk over the rim of her wine glass.

She laughs, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, or take up pole dancing lessons and become a stripper!”

“I’m being serious.” Mysaria, puts her glass down and pulls out her phone, flicking to the App Store and typing. “See? There are loads of apps, why not give it a try?”

“Isn’t that just prostitution?” She wrinkles her nose in disgust.

“Hey!” Mysaria chides. “Sex work is real work, but this isn’t prostitution. Most of these guys are just desperate, lonely guys who earn big bucks and are willing to spoil you in exchange for a conversation or a few selfies. You don’t even have to sleep with any of them…unless you want to.”

“I think I’ll pass, thanks.”

Even if she did go through with it, she was inexperienced, and would surely be a disappointment to any potential sugar daddies she might attract. She’d had one boyfriend in her entire life, it had lasted six months and they’d never gone beyond unsatisfying quickies that focused entirely on his pleasure. The idea of taking money from a stranger in order to pay her bills makes her incredibly uneasy.

They’re half way through their second bottle of wine as she scrolls through her phone. Mysaria is snoring softly on the sofa next to her, while an episode of some trashy reality TV show plays away to itself in the background.

Her thoughts keep drifting back to her flatmate’s mention earlier in the evening of sugar babies. She knows it’s likely the wine inspiring her actions, but she finds herself scrolling through the same apps they’d looked at previously.

Seeing one with particularly good reviews, she presses download before she’s had a chance to think twice about it and then goes through the process of setting up a profile, picking the best photo she has of herself on her camera roll.

Her heart races as she swipes with shaky fingers through photos of a myriad of men. She stops when she sees the look of one she likes.

Larys, 45. Tell me all your secrets.

His curly brown hair and piercing blue eyes immediately capture her attention, and she enjoys the flirtatious nature of his tagline. She swipes right and is stunned when she gets an “It’s a match!” notification. Wow, that was fast.

Instantly a message pops up from him.

Hello beautiful. How are you this evening?

She smiles, this seems harmless enough.

I’m fine, thanks. Just watching TV. How are you?

Her eyes linger on the screen as she awaits his reply.

I’d be better if I could get a look at your pretty feet. How much?

Bile rises in her throat and she throws the phone away from her in disgust. The worst possible start she could have asked for. She silently curses Mysaria’s stupid idea and vows never to open the app again.

Three weeks later and she is thoroughly fed up. She’s tired of never going out or doing anything, sick of existing on instant noodles. When she receives another payslip and sees yet another loan repayment has eaten away at her earnings, she reaches breaking point. She considers looking for another job, but she currently doesn’t qualify for anything beyond an entry level position in her field, and the pay everywhere else is no better than what she’s already on.

Her thumb lingers over the app that she hasn’t touched for weeks, too scarred by having such an awful first encounter to bother with it again. However, she’s desperate and willing to try anything - not with Larys though. She’s quick to unmatch with him, eager to forget his disgusting request.

She swipes mindlessly for a few minutes, not finding anyone attractive, until she happens across a photo that stops her in her tracks.

The man in question has sharp features - an aquiline nose, an impossibly chiseled jawline and sculpted cheekbones. His long white blonde hair frames his face elegantly, his only imperfection is the scar that runs across his left eye, a slightly duller blue than the right. She wonders if he’s still able to see out of it.

Aemond, 35.

No tagline, no other photos, save the one of him staring directly into the camera. He seems intense and mysterious. She swipes right, unable to fight the disappointment she feels when it’s not an instant match.

She closes the app, her desire to look at anyone else has been thwarted by how ridiculously good looking he is.

She has nearly forgotten about him when her phone buzzes the next day. He’s matched with her. She unlocks her phone, her palms sweaty with nerves, and looks at his message.

Hello.

Simple, to the point, possibly the words of a serial killer? She pushes the thought away and types out a response.

Hi. How are you?

She almost gives up and puts her phone away in the time it takes for him to reply, but eventually he does.

I don’t do small talk. Tell me about yourself.

Her eyes widen as she reads the message. He’s either incredibly rude or just not used to interacting with other people. She decides to give him the benefit of the doubt. She tells him about her history degree, about her museum job, about her living situation and her aspirations to one day become a curator of historical artifacts. He is unsurprisingly evasive when she attempts to ask about him.

So, what brings you to the app?

She decides there’s no point in hiding the fact that she’s strapped for cash, she wouldn’t be using an app that matches sugar babies with sugar daddies if that weren’t the case. She explains that her student loan repayments are crippling her, half expecting not to hear from him again. His next message is much quicker to arrive.

How much? And are you free Saturday night?

Dread gnaws at her stomach. Oh god, what does he expect of her? Hesitantly, she types out the remaining balance she has on her student loan and asks what he has in mind for Saturday. Again, he replies straight away.

Give me your bank details. I need a date for my nephew’s engagement party.

Her eyes widen. This cannot be real, and yet it’s happening. Dazed by his forwardness she sends across her account number and sort code, and tells him she’s free on Saturday.

Her mouth runs dry when after a few minutes her banking app pings with a notification of a deposit. The full amount she owes on her student loan has been transferred to her under the name ‘A. Targaryen.”

Aemond has transferred her thousands of pounds as if it were nothing more than pocket change, and all under the loose agreement that she’ll attend a party with him. This man has to be obscenely wealthy, or insane, perhaps both.

Her phone vibrates again. Another message from him.

Transferred. Give me your number, I hate the messaging interface on this app.

With clammy hands and a pounding heart she types out an entirely too long, rambled message of thanks, along with her number.

She wonders if she’s blown it when she doesn’t hear from him again, yet the money still sits in her bank account, feeling as though it’s burning a hole in it. She hasn’t exactly played it cool, most sugar babies probably accept money with cool sophistication, not simpering words of gratitude.

She feels like she’s forgotten how to breathe when he texts her on Friday.

Tell me your address and dress size.

Once more, she’s taken aback by how blunt he is, yet she complies and provides both.

When she arrives home from work later that evening, there is a package waiting for her. She opens it to reveal a black silk gown. The cut of the fabric is beautiful. Her jaw drops when she sees the Chanel label. This likely cost more than the entirety of the clothing she owns put together.

There’s a note that simply reads: Wear this tomorrow - A.

She smiles at the neatness of his handwriting. Aemond is a strange man, and yet she can’t help the intrigue she feels towards him. This is his second act of generosity towards her in the space of a week and they’ve yet to even meet.

She spends all of Saturday ensuring she is waxed, exfoliated and moisturised all over, before carefully styling her hair and applying make-up that she feels will do the eye-wateringly expensive dress she’s been given to wear justice.

She is jittery with nerves when a sleek, black sports car pulls up outside the block of flats. She can just tell it’s Aemond, nothing that costs that much has any business being on this side of town otherwise.

She hurries downstairs to meet him, eager to avoid the embarrassment of him seeing the mess that is the inside of the pokey, little flat she shares with Mysaria.

He steps out of the car and she inhales sharply at the sight of him. He is tall, at least six foot easily, despite her wearing heels he still towers over her. A well tailored, black suit clings to his long, lithe form and his white hair is pulled back neatly into a bun that sits at the nape of his neck.

“You must be Aemond.” She says, praying her make-up is enough to hide the evidence of how hot her face currently feels.

“Mmm. Yes, I must. You look good.” His right eye rakes appreciatively over her form, and when his left doesn’t follow the motion, she realises it’s a prosthetic. “Shall we go?”

He gestures towards the car, walking around to the passenger’s side to open the door for her.

He fills her in on what’s expected of her as he drives. His nephew, Jace, has gotten engaged to his longtime girlfriend, Baela. He is sick of fending off questions around why he’s not with anyone yet, especially from that side of the family. He expects her to stick by his side for the evening and he’ll deal with any awkward questions that may arise.

They arrive and Aemond is ever the gentleman, quickly stepping out of the car to open the door for her and offer her a hand out.

She shivers at the feel of his hand against hers and is stunned further still when he interlocks their fingers, keeping a firm hold of her hand as they enter the house.

“Just play along.” He whispers.

She is immediately struck by the opulence of it all as they walk through the foyer. This is a family that comes from old money. It was clear from the antique furnishings and vaulted ceilings that the Targaryens had always had money and always would.

She balks a little, unsure of if she will fit in, suddenly self conscious. Aemond seems to pick up on this.

“Relax.” He whispers to her. “Everyone here looks like shit compared to you.”

His words, combined with the tickle of his breath against the shell of her ear sends a shiver down her spine.

True to his word, he doesn’t let her stray from his side the entire evening. The tension between family members is unmistakable. The sneers with which a trio of dark haired young men regard Aemond is incredibly off putting.

She is informed by Aemond that the eldest of them is Jace, whose engagement they are here to celebrate. She meets Aemond’s mother, the doe eyed, auburn haired woman is pretty and seems shocked but delighted at the sight of her son with an actual date on his arm.

The lies that flow from his mouth are effortless. He had met her at the museum she works at when he’d come in to browse an exhibition. They’d hit it off instantly and been inseparable ever since.

Every touch of his hand at the small of her back feels like a brand and as the night goes on, and the champagne continues to flow freely, she finds herself eagerly playing up to the part of dutiful girlfriend. She leans into every touch, her eyes fluttering closed at the gentle press of his lips to her hairline. He is respectful, too respectful, never getting handsy or going for a full on the lips kiss.

When the evening draws to a close and he escorts her back to the passenger side of his car, she feels bereft at the loss of his touch as he moves around to the driver’s seat.

“You did well this evening.” He tells her as she starts the engine. “We put on quite the show.”

Remembering that none of this was real, that she’d been paid to be here startles her out of her tipsy fantasy that this is an actual relationship and her mouth presses into a tight line as she nods.

They drive in silence for a while before Aemond speaks again.

“If you’re up for it, my mother is having a birthday meal this Wednesday. She mentioned tonight she’d love for you to come. Are you available? I’ll pay you, obviously.”

So much for this not feeling like prostitution. She’s already paid off her student loan, she could just say no, but then she wouldn’t get to see him again.

“Y-yeah, sounds good.” She says meekly.

They pull up outside the block of flats and, right on cue, Aemond is striding around the car to get her door. She wobbles on her heels as she climbs out, the effects of the evening’s alcohol getting the better of her, and falls against his chest.

His large hands move to steady her by the shoulders and as she looks up into his face she is struck by how gorgeous he really is.

Her eyes slowly close, as she leans in, her lips pressing towards his.

His grip on her shoulders tightens, pushing her back ever-so gently. “You don’t need to do that.”

Her eyes snap back open, shame coursing through her like liquid fire. “Oh…”

“I’ll text you the details about Wednesday. Thanks again for tonight.”

He gets back into the car, driving away as she stands on the kerbside, feeling thoroughly embarrassed.

Chapter two || Series masterlist

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multi-fandom-imagines8 · 7 months ago

Text

A Song of Ice & Shadow

Part 8

You can read previous chapters here.

Summary: The Inner Circle prepares for war. Y/n and Azriel grow closer, and a shocking revelation unfolds on the battlefield.

Word Count: 3K.

“I was wondering when you’d finally arrive” Rhys’s first words greeted Azriel and Y/n as they returned.

“What did we miss?” Y/n asked, half-jokingly.

“Azriel missed nothing. I kept him updated. You, on the other hand, missed a lot” Rhys taunted, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Y/n looked between the two males, her playful tone replaced by a serious one, before directing her question to Azriel “What happened? And why did you not tell me?”.

“You can argue later. Right now you need to get ready. We’re leaving for Graysen’s estate in an hour” Rhys informed her, his tone brisk.

“Graysen? As in Elain fia- ex fiancé?” Y/n’s eyes widened in surprise.

“The one and only” Rhys confirmed.

“The fuck happened while I was gone?” Y/n demanded, exasperation in her voice.

“As I said, a lot. Now get ready, we don’t have time to waste” Rhys ordered, and this time Y/n obeyed, though only because it involved one of her sisters.

—

“Where is everyone?” Y/n asked as she descended the stairs, her dress rustling with each step.

“Waiting at the camp. You’re the last to get dressed” Rhys remarked, barely hiding a smirk.

“Forgive me for just finding out about what’s going on, or at least part of it, like fifteen minutes ago. Besides, it took time to find something suitable for the occasion” she retorted.

“You could’ve just worn pants”.

“I prefer my dresses. Besides, this one is practical. I made sure to choose the right one” she twirled around, showing him the practicality of the dress. The top was supple leather that formed a snug bodice, molded to her curve, while the skirt was made of a rugged yet supple fabric that flowed around, reaching her ankles. Lace-up heeled combat boots completed the look.

“And the heels?” Rhys raised an eyebrow.

“They’re chunky and very comfortable. And if I were to kick someone, it’d hurt more”.

“And running?”.

“Bold of you to assume I’d be able to run even in normal boots. In that area, I’m hopeless”.

“Shall we?” he shook his head before winnowing them out to the Illyrian camp.

As soon as they arrived, Y/n went to stand where her sisters and Mor were, a step behind the males. Rhys proceeded to give instructions, and Cassian added a few of his own. Azriel just stared down at them, his eyes full of hatred and disgust for his own kind, which did not go unnoticed by Y/n.

“So these are the female-hating pricks?” Y/n asked no one in particular.

“Yes, unfortunately” Mor answered, her voice laced with disdain.

After some time, one of the lords, Devlon, whom the three Illyrian warriors usually dealt with, noticed Nesta and asked if she was a witch. He wanted her to stay away from the females and children for some reason.

“She’ll do no such thing” Y/n took a step forward, but Feyre held her hand, warning her not to do anything reckless.

“Another witch?” Devlon questioned, his tone mocking.

“The most wicked one. The one who’d haunt your dreams and-”.

“Y/n, please” Feyre pleaded, and Y/n stopped from finishing the sentence.

Devlon glared at her and was about to say something when Rhys found another topic to discuss, allowing Feyre to guide her sisters to the war tent. From the looks of it, he had told Feyre down the bond to take them away before Y/n or Nesta said something that would offend Devlon or make him lose his temper. As much as Rhys would’ve loved to see them getting on Devlon’s nerves, now was not the time.

When they got to the tent, Nesta asked what the difference between Fae and witches was, and Mor explained to her that witches draw power beyond their natural reserve and use spells to get more power than the Cauldron granted.

“I think I want to be a witch” Y/n expressed nonchalantly, causing all four females to cast worried glances in her direction, their brows furrowed.

“What? Fae are no better. They enslaved humans, and when they were done, they just left them to starve, die, and fend for themselves. At least, as a witch, I’d be able to provide food for everyone” Y/n shrugged.

“Those powers come with a cost” Mor informed her.

“Like what? Sacrificing people? I’m fine with that. There’s a whole army outside I wouldn’t mind sacrificing. Theoretically speaking, if I were, I mean if a witch were to sacrifice a High Lord, for example, would she gain even more power?”.

“I don’t know if you’re joking right now or not. It’s scary” Mor remarked “but I suppose it would make sense since they possess more power”.

“Good to know. We can sacrifice your hideous ex first” Y/n turned to face Feyre.

“We’re not sacrificing anyone” Feyre stated firmly.

Y/n shrugged “hmph, speak for yourself”.

“Nice outfit” Cassian snorted at Y/n as he and his brothers joined the females.

“Fuck you” she quipped.

“Later. We have a war to prepare for, and I have an army to command” he winked at her.

“Ew” she gave him a disgusted look and feigned gagging.

“Did we miss anything?” Rhys asked Feyre.

“Nothing, just Y/n wanting to become a witch and sacrifice every Fae” Mor informed him.

“That’s not true. I might spare a couple” Y/n retorted.

Azriel bit back a chuckle and Rhys said “I suppose I’m not on the list of the people you’ll spare?”.

“Hmm, haven’t decided yet, but so far, no” she teased.

—

After winnowing into the mortal lands, Feyre briefly explained what happened and the reason Elain was going to see her ex was to convince him to give sanctuary to the humans who couldn’t flee.

When they arrived, Rhys put a shield around them for protection and glamoured Elain to look human. One of the guards guided them to the guardhouse, the farthest they’d be allowed.

When Graysen and his father entered, Elain became nervous and stuttered, but Nesta intervened, informing them that the walls were gone. At the sight of her pointed ear, Graysen questioned how that happened, and Nesta explained. He asked why Elain was in the company of Fae, and she told him she’s safer with them. When Elain begged them to open their home to humans seeking refuge, he noticed she was glamoured.

Then Jurian appeared, the man who was at the King’s side when the sisters were turned. The man who put an arrow full of Faebane through Azriel’s chest. Y/n tensed at the sight of him but remained firmly standing, ready to jump on him at any minute.

He told them that he’d always been working for the humans and that he kept up the lies to gain more information on the King. He informed them that Tamlin went back to Hybern and that they plan to attack the Summer Court the next day. Azriel tapped Y/n’s shoulder, signaling her of his departure before disappearing to warn Cassian and tell them to move the legion.

Graysen was nothing but horrible to Elain the whole time they were there, and as much as Y/n wanted to interfere, she knew Elain wanted to sort this out herself. Their conversation wasn’t going well. Not only did he order her to take off her engagement ring, confirming that he wasn’t going to marry her, but he proceeded to insult her. When tears began streaming down Elain’s face, that’s when Y/n acted. She strode towards Graysen and slapped him across the face.

“You never deserved my sister, and if you ever speak to her like that again, I will kill you. The only reason you’re left breathing is because Elain cares about you, but insult her again and I will rip out your tongue” Y/n threatened, her eyes blazing with fury.

“You’re her eldest sister. I heard about you, about your hatred for Faekind, and now look at you, you’re one of them. Even threatening to kill humans” Graysen mocked.

“I was turned against my will, and my hatred still runs deep. It won’t change. But make no mistake, when it comes to my sisters, whether it’s Fae, human or any other kind of monster, I won’t hesitate” she turned away from him “I believe this concludes our business here”.

—

Unable to withstand seeing Elain crying any longer, Y/n left their tent and took a walk through the camp. It ate at her that there was nothing she could do to mend her sister’s broken heart, nothing she could do to help. She hated feeling helpless.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice Azriel joining her until he spoke “You shouldn’t wander out here alone, especially not when you’re absent-minded” his voice was gentle but firm.

“I don’t think they’d dare do anything, not with your High Lord being here” Y/n replied, trying to mask her distress.

“Still it’s better to be safe than sorry” he insisted, his eyes scanning the surroundings.

“Don’t worry, I can take care of myself… How are you feeling? Big day tomorrow” Y/n changed the subject, her voice tinged with concern.

“It’s not the first, and it won’t be the last battle I join” he responded, his tone neutral.

“Still, it must feel-”.

“Hard? It never gets easier, but I think about what and who I’m fighting for. It keeps me going” Azriel admitted, his eyes meeting hers.

“I never asked, but how are you feeling about being here? I know you don’t like your people. Today must have been difficult for you” Y/n observed, her brows furrowing in concern.

Azriel’s expression darkened “Dislike is an understatement. Honestly, it gets worse every time. To say I got used to it would be a lie”.

“It’s really a shame. You’d think as honorable warriors, they’d treat their females with respect at least… Are there others like you?”.

“Like me?” Azriel looked puzzled.

“Yes. Like you, your High Lord, and the General. You’re all Illyrians, yet you treat females like normal people… without discrimination. Are there other Illyrian warriors like that? Or are they all brutes?”.

“There are a few, but it’s very rare to see”.

“Back when we were at the Dawn Court, why didn’t you tell me about Elain and what they planned to do?”.

He seemed to contemplate before speaking again “You seemed happy. I didn’t want to ruin that, and it could wait. I knew if I told you, you’d have left immediately to be by Elain’s side. I knew what it meant to you to learn about how to make that powder, and I wanted you to do what you liked, what you enjoyed”.

“Why?” she genuinely did not understand why he was being considerate.

“War is coming and I thought you should be able to relax a bit before it got serious. We don’t know when things will get back to normal”.

“How very considerate of you” she said, half sarcastically, half seriously.

“You should get some sleep” he advised.

“I should be the one saying this to you. You’re the one fighting tomorrow”.

“I don’t get much sleep before a battle” Azriel informed her, his jaw tightening.

“I won’t argue with you, but just this once” a serene smile graced her face and he couldn’t help but stare at her.

They walked in silence for a while before he finally inquired “How’s Elain?”.

“As can be expected. She’s heartbroken, and there’s nothing I can do to fix it” Y/n sighed, her shoulders slumping.

“It will get better. Give her time” Azriel reassured her, and all she did was nod. She hoped that his words were true, that Elain would get over Greysen soon and be happy.

“Where are your shadows? I don’t see them” she managed to change the subject again.

“They’re around, here and there. Don’t tell me you miss them?” his lips curled into a soft smile.

“I have grown accustomed to them. It might sound weird, but I don’t know, they give me a sense of peace and security” she declared.

“Oh? That’s exactly how I feel” he raised a brow, his face lighting up with amusement.

“Is that why you always stand in the corners where the shadows are?”.

“You’re quite observant” he gave her a proud smile, his eyes brimming with admiration.

“You’re not the only one who notices things others don’t”.

As they walked through the camp, they almost forgot there was going to be a battle the next day. Being in each other’s presence often made them forget about the outside world, not that they often noticed.

It was getting late and Y/n was debating something, hesitant about. She opened her mouth to speak but then shut it again.

“Is something on your mind?” Azriel noticed her uneasiness.

“I- I got you something… when we were at the Dawn Court. This caught my eye and it reminded me of you. Something about it is just beautiful, and I didn’t want it to go to waste, so I got it for you” She opened her hand, revealing the black gemstone trinket. He reached out, his scarred fingers lightly touching hers as he took it. The smile on his face disappeared and was replaced by an unreadable expression.

“T- thank you. I don’t know what to say” his heart fluttered.

“You don’t have to say anything. The shop owner said it has protective properties, and while I don’t know if that’s true, just keep it on you tomorrow, will you?”.

“Are you worried about me?” he couldn’t hide his grin.

“Let’s just say I have a vast interest in keeping you alive”.

“And why is that?”.

“Well, for starters, to save me from your insufferable friends. You’re the only tolerable one. And to have someone to speak to occasionally while being locked up”.

He rolled his eyes at her last words “I’m not going to argue with you, but just this once” he repeated her earlier words to her.

“I should go now. Good night” she turned from him and started walking away before she halted and turned to face him again “and Shadowsinger? Good luck tomorrow”.

He kept watch on her until he made sure she arrived safely at her tent.

—

Y/n was pacing around in hers and her sisters’ tent when Feyre and Mor winnowed in. They informed them that they had won with little casualty before winnowing them to the battlefield. The place reeked of blood, and while the others waited for the tents to be rebuilt, Y/n went to offer assistance to the healers.

When Rhys and Cassian returned, they were surprised to see her bandaging some of the warriors, her hands and clothes stained with their blood. When she exhausted all her energy, she came to sit by the fire, near Feyre. Nesta was bandaging Cassian’s wrist when he spoke “Did someone put a knife to your throat? Is that why you were patching up the wounded?” Cassian quipped, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I don’t have the energy for you” Y/n sighed, rubbing her temples.

“It’s just I thought you hated our kind and now you’re volunteering to help”.

“It’s not out of the kindness of my heart, if that’s what you think. We still need every soldier for the war. The faster they’re healed, the better, and I happen to have some experience in that area”.

“As a healer?” Cassian raised his brow.

“Where I worked, there was an infirmary nearby. They were often short of healers, and I happened to have spare time on some days, so I learned the basics”.

“So you have a heart after all” his smirk grew wider, and she glared at him.

The days after went well, the soldiers were healing and resting up. On the fifth day, Azriel came panting and informed them that Hybern was planning to attack the Winter Court. That day they discussed for hours about what to do and ended up with deciding on marching north while remaining hidden but making Hybern think that they stayed here.

—

On the battlefield, both sides were exhausted, and casualties mounted on both sides. As heavy rain poured, more Hybern soldiers appeared and began slaughtering many of their forces. Their lines were breaking apart, and Cassian was trying to reform them as he was surrounded by the enemy. Azriel rushed to his aid but he had difficulty reaching him with all the soldiers. Both warriors were fighting relentlessly.

Y/n, Nesta, Feyre and Mor were watching from above. If this continued, they were going to lose, and many more warriors were going to die. Feyre decided to go find the Suriel to ask where Hybern’s true army was hiding.

Mor had left for the front lines and landed right next to Cassian, just in time to stop a soldier from driving a sword through his back. Cassian kept charging without waiting for the others to get to him, and Mor and Azriel took a few blows.

With each blow, Y/n’s anxiety and fear rose. It was building up to become something explosive. She paced around next to Nesta, one hand to her mouth as she nervously bit her nails. She hated watching helplessly from above as many soldiers were being slaughtered, as the people she grew used to were being attacked and barely managing to evade each blow.

Cassian engaged one of Hybern’s commanders, who managed to deliver a near-fatal blow, had Azriel not arrived in time to hold his guts in for him. Mor was fighting that commander when another one snuck up on Azriel and was about to lunge his sword into Azriel’s chest from behind.

At the sight, Y/n exploded “NO!” her eyes turned white, and with the heavy rain, lightning crackled and thunder boomed as if the very heavens had opened up. A power she hadn’t known she possessed surged forth in a wave of raw emotion and primal instinct.

The air crackled with electricity as bolts of lightning lashed out uncontrollably, striking down Hybern soldiers with blinding force. As the storm raged on, draining her of energy, she collapsed, unconscious, the toll of her unbridled power too much to bear.

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