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fireinmoonshot · 2 months ago

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love that lasts | joaquín torres x fem!reader

Pairing: Joaquín Torres x Fem!Reader Summary: When Thanos snapped his fingers and erased half of all life from the universe, he also took you from Joaquín. Five years later, he is still trying to learn how to live without you – until the Avengers can save the world. Warnings: Google Translate is my best friend – apologies if the Spanish is used incorrectly in this fic, I do not speak it but I tried my best to make sure I used words properly. Mentions of bad mental health, nightmares. It's very angsty at the start, has a bit of fluff, but mostly full of angst. Word Count: 4.2k A/N: I rewatched Infinity War and Endgame last week and came up with this idea. Since we know that Joaquín survived the snap, I decided I wanted to write something angsty about where you didn't survive and this was born. This was the most challenging fic for Joaquín I've written so far but also the most rewarding, I think. I know everyone's really moved on from the whole Infinity War/Endgame thing regarding fics, but I really wanted to write this so I hope people will enjoy it. The title of the fic comes from 'Still' by Noah Kahan – I had his album on repeat almost the entire time I was writing this.

Joaquin Torres always knew that the Avengers were going to save the world. From the moment that half of all life on Earth had disappeared, he knew that whatever had happened, the Avengers would somehow find a way to fix things.

He just didn’t count on it being five years later.

There had been one good thing that had come out of him not being blipped, though – the fact that his mom hadn’t been either. If he’d had to live without her, he’s sure he would have gone insane. Because it was hard enough to live without you.

He’d spent days wishing that he’d been taken too. The first few days had been the worst. He’d been unable to leave the house, having to learn to grieve you when he wasn’t even sure if you were dead or just gone.

He remembered every moment of that first day like it was yesterday. How he’d just arrived home from going to pick up some takeout for the two of you and he’d seen his neighbour turn to dust in his front yard while he’d been outside gardening, making the most of the evening light. He thought he must have just been seeing things.

He’d walked through the front door of your home and called out your name, heading into the kitchen to put the take out down before he went to find you, feeling more than confused. Then you’d appeared in the doorway to the kitchen and Joaquin had been flooded with relief.

“I’m home, angel, I have the takeout in the kitchen, come get yours” Joaquin called, starting to get the take out from the bags. “Hey, have you seen anything weird on TV today?”

“Joaquin…”

He’d looked up at you, then, just soon enough to see you say his name as you slowly started to turn to dust in front of his eyes. The blanket that had been wrapped around your shoulders fell to a pile on the floor as Joaquin stared at where you had been standing only seconds earlier.

“Angel?” Joaquin’s voice was small, hesitant. He put the container down that he’d been holding and walked towards the doorway, half expecting you to be hiding behind the wall, ready to jump out and scare him. It’d been a trick of the light, something like that. But all that was left of you was the blanket on the floor and your phone which had fallen on top of it.

He’d fallen to the floor, grabbing the blanket in his hands and holding it to his chest for what felt like hours as the feeling of numbness overtook him. The blanket still smelled like you and he never wanted to let it go.

Whatever was happening, whatever had happened to your neighbour and to you… there was nothing Joaquin could do about it. He wasn’t an Avenger, he wasn’t anyone special. He knew in that moment that he was going to have to live with it. That fact alone could have killed him.

His knees went numb after kneeling on the floor for so long but he couldn’t find it in himself to pull himself up from the floor. Not even when the sun finally set and the house was blanketed in darkness. The food on the counter had long gone cold. It was only when your phone, sitting in his lap, buzzed, that he’d been pulled out of his stupor. His mother was trying to ring you. She’d thought Joaquin had been taken when she couldn’t get a hold of him, but the second he answered your phone, she knew that you were gone.

Joaquin had stayed with his mother for a while after that, not being able to bring himself to be in the house without you there. There were memories of you in that house everywhere he looked. The sheets still smelled of you, all of your things were still in the cupboards, every time he opened up Netflix, your profile was there. Everything was there except for you.

“You could always sell the house and move back home with me properly, mijo,” his mother had said. “It’s not smart to be paying your mortgage on that house when no one is living in it.”

He shook his head. “I know it’s not smart, mamá, but I just can’t. We bought that house together. We were making a life there. I can’t even bring myself to move her things, how could I sell the place and clear everything out?”

His mother reached across the table and placed her hand over Joaquin’s, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Then you’ll stay here until you’re ready to go home.”

“I don’t know if it will ever really be home without her, mamá,” Joaquin said honestly, meeting her eyes. His were full of tears, as they were most days since you’d gone.

There was no hesitation as his mother stood up from the table and walked around to him, wrapping her arms around him to pull him into a hug. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “She was the love of your life. Just like your father was the love of mine. You don’t have to move on like she never existed, mijo. Time will continue to pass and she will continue to be with you, even when you cannot see her.”

Joaquin sniffed, holding his mother close as he cried. “I really love her, mamá,” he murmured, not really expecting her to hear him since his voice was so muffled.

She did, though. Gently rubbing his back, she closed her eyes and let out a long, shaky sigh. “I know you do. I loved her too, mijo. Just like she was my own,” she hummed. “Don’t lose hope. She will return to you one day, I believe that. Your soulmate will find you wherever you are, in any life.”

As the years went on, Joaquin started to believe that this was the way it was always going to be. The Avengers had not saved the world like he thought they would. And he was going to have to learn to live the rest of his life with only memories of you. Like his mother had said, time continued to pass, no matter how much he wished it wouldn’t.

The world changed. He changed. Things became darker and he became darker with them, though he desperately tried to keep the spark alive in his chest – if only because he knew that was what you’d want him to do. You would want him to still be the same Joaquin that you’d loved, but how could he be that person without you?

He threw himself into his job, working day and night to try and keep himself afloat. It seemed strange to be doing such mundane things in a world that was so different. To have to keep earning money to pay the mortgage of your house. To have to get out of bed every morning and shave. To have to make food for himself to eat during the day. To have to go to the grocery store to get milk for breakfasts and coffees.

Five years had passed slowly. Joaquin had made it through them relatively unscathed, with a few mental scars here and there. Every day he was grateful that he still had his mom. That she was there to comfort him when the days were hard and that he was still alive to be there for her as well. If she’d been alone through all of this, it would have broken Joaquin’s heart even more.

When he eventually moved back into your home, every time he cooked dinner it was like you were in the room with him. He could feel your hand on his back as he cooked, your arms around his waist as he washed the dishes. It was like you were still there with him, but then he’d blink and the memories were gone, washed down the sink with the water he drained.

He still cooked enough food for two people before realising it was only him. For a while, he could never bring himself to eat the second serving, until times got harder and he couldn’t afford to waste anything.

He would be laying in bed at night and he could swear he could feel your arm draped across his side. He could feel the ghost of your kisses on his lips. Your side of the bed was empty every night and yet, he could never bring himself to wash the pillowcase you’d once slept on for fear of the way you smelt disappearing entirely, forcing him to lose another part of you. He couldn’t lose anymore of you.

His friends who had survived the blip had suggested that he put himself back out there. Go on a date, find someone new. There were plenty of stories of people who had gone to support groups after losing loved ones and had found new love there. The likelihood of everyone who had been blipped coming back was slim to none, so why not? But Joaquin could never bring himself to let you go. Even just thinking about going on a date with someone else filled him with guilt. People had tried to set him up on dates but he had never gone through with actually going on any of them.

His mom was the only one who understood. Even if it meant that her baby would never be able to give her the grandchildren she’d wanted for so long, it didn’t matter to her. She had loved you like you were her own child. All she wanted was for Joaquin to be happy and for some miracle to bring you back to him so that he could be. But even she had lost hope after the past five years that anything could bring you back to him.

And then… the Avengers saved the world.

~~~

That morning, Joaquin is sitting in a coffee shop – one that had been your favourite before you were gone. He’s missing you a little more than normal this morning and had decided that a good way to feel like he was with you would be to come out and spend time at a place you loved. He’s taking a sip of his coffee when someone suddenly appears in the chair opposite him.

Joaquin almost chokes on his drink, coughing a little as he looks at the man in front of him. He hadn’t walked in from anywhere, he hadn’t been in the coffee shop before. He’d just… appeared. What the hell was going on?

“What the…” the man says, looking around the coffee shop with a confused and haunted look in his eyes. “You’re not my wife… I was just sitting here with her… Where is Sylvia?”

Joaquin’s eyes widen. For a moment he wonders if the man is just confused, maybe there’s something wrong with him mentally and this is his way of asking Joaquin for help… but then, on the table in front of him, his phone lights up and starts to ring.

The contact photo is of you and the name on the screen is yours.

He drops his coffee, spilling a little on the table as he reaches for his phone. His hands are already starting to shake. A part of him thinks this must all be a cruel joke. Someone has broken into your house and stolen your phone, or there’s some kind of technological glitch. But another part of him, the part that is still hoping after all these years, truly believes that when he answers the phone, your voice will be the one he hears on the other end of the line.

“Angel?” Joaquin’s voice is hopeful as he holds his phone up to his ear and presses the answer button. “Is that you?”

There’s a moment of silence on the other end of the line and Joaquin’s stomach drops. But then he hears it. “Joaquin… where are you? What’s going on?” Your voice – your voice on the other end of the line. It’s real. By some miracle, you’re home. “You were just unpacking the takeout and then…”

“Angel, just stay there, okay? I’m coming home,” Joaquin says to you, grabbing his coat off the back of his chair as he stands up. “I’m so sorry, sir. You should call your wife,” he mutters to the man still sitting on the chair opposite him, looking confused.

He takes off at a run, almost running straight into a few people walking through the door of the cafe. He doesn’t hang up the phone the entire time he’s running home, just grateful that your favourite coffee shop is within walking distance of your house. He’s grateful that he wasn’t driving – he doubts he’d be able to focus on the road properly, knowing that you’re home and waiting for him.

Joaquin runs faster than he’s ever run in his entire life. His throat hurts from his heavy breathing and the air rushing in and there’s a stitch forming on his side. There’s sweat dripping down his forehead, owing to the sweater he’d put on this morning and the pace at which he’s running. But he’s not going to stop or slow down for even a second until he gets to you.

Once he reaches your street, he pushes himself to run even faster. He can see your house in the distance and he hopes he’s not dreaming as he runs towards it. He doesn’t think he can deal with the pain of walking inside the house and not seeing you inside again.

He’s breathing heavily as he reaches the front door, fumbling in his pocket for the key. He doesn’t even notice his neighbour in the front yard, the one he’d seen disappear five years ago, standing right where he’d disappeared, holding his wife close.

Joaquin doesn’t manage to get the key in the front door before it’s pulled open, his hands shaking too much with adrenaline. His head snaps up and his eyes fall on you, your hand on the door handle and your cheeks tear-streaked as you look at him.

“Oh, dios mío,” Joaquin mutters, instantly stepping inside the door and wrapping his arms around you. He holds you tightly to his chest, worried that you’re going to disappear from his arms for good this time. “Are you real? Are you actually here? I’m dreaming. I must be dreaming. This can’t be real.”

Your hands fist the fabric of his sweater as he holds you close. Whatever happened, you don’t really know yet, but what you do know is that Joaquin is acting like he hasn’t seen you for years. The house looks the same, you’d noticed, as you’d walked around before Joaquin came home and you heard the sound of his keys at the door. But something is off.

“I’m real, Joaquin,” you murmur into his ear. “You’re not dreaming. But I don’t know what’s going on… where did you go? You were unpacking takeout and then you were gone.”

Joaquin pulls away from the hug but still keeps his arms firmly wrapped around your waist. He can’t bring himself to let go and he fears it’s going to be that way forever now. “Angel, it’s… it’s been five years since I last saw you. Thanos… he wiped out half of all life in the universe… you were– you were gone.” Tears start to fall down Joaquin’s cheeks and he doesn’t realise until your hand moves to gently swipe them away. He leans into your palm, finding comfort in the feeling of your warm hand on his cheek. “But the Avengers… whatever they did brought you back to me. It was them, I know it must’ve been.”

He internally curses himself for ever doubting them.

“Five years?” You frown, eyebrows knotting together as you try and piece things together in your mind. For you, it had just been like you’d blinked and things had changed but for Joaquin… it had been five years. Five years without you, and yet when you’d called… he had literally come running. “I was gone for five years?”

Joaquin nods, reaching one hand up to wipe the tears from your own face. He can’t imagine how terrifying it must have been for you to come back and not find him anywhere, for you to be alone in the house. He’s more grateful than ever now that he never tried to sell the house. If you’d come back and an entire new family had been living in your house…

“They were the hardest five years of my life, angel,” he says softly. “I thought that you were gone forever.”

You look at him for a moment, a little confused. “But you still live here… you still kept my number in your phone… you– Joaquin, you came running to me when I called… what have you been doing for the last five years?”

Joaquin’s heart cracks a little in his chest. “Angel, I’ve been waiting for you.”

With that, he can’t bring himself to maintain his self control any longer. The hand that had wiped the tears off your cheeks gently holds the back of your neck as he presses his lips to yours. You reciprocate immediately. Five years of wanting, five years of waiting for something he was sure was never going to come… a kiss five years in the making. Joaquin is surprised he was able to hold off for so long. He’s never going to take advantage of kissing you ever again.

~~~

A little later, you and Joaquin sit on the couch in the living room. Your hands are entwined, legs tangled under a blanket in front of you. It had taken a while to pull yourselves from the doorway. You were both in a little bit of shock – Joaquin in shock that you were finally back here after five years, you in shock that you had been gone that long.

“You really never dated anyone at all in the last five years?” You ask, resting your head on his shoulder as one of his fingers draws patterns on your palm that slightly tickles.

Joaquin looks down at you and sighs. “Believe me, my friends tried to make me. They even set up a couple of dates for me to go on, but I never went on any of them. I just couldn’t bring myself to get out the front door.”

Frowning, you look up at him. “Why not?”

“Because none of them were you, angel.”

He gives your hand a squeeze and you snuggle closer into his side. You’d been insecure in your relationship at times – five years ago – but you knew you could never be insecure about it anymore. How many other people could say their partner had waited five years for them on a sliver of hope that they’d come back after disappearing from the universe?

In his pocket, Joaquin’s phone starts to buzz. He pulls it out of his pocket and smiles as he sees his mothers contact on the screen. “I’ve got a phone call for you, mi amor.” He hands the phone to you and his heart warms as he sees your smile upon seeing who’s calling. “I think she almost missed you more than I missed you.”

You take the phone off of Joaquin and instantly hit answer, holding the phone up to your ear. “Suegrita,” is all you say and even though Joaquin isn’t holding the phone, he can already hear his mothers cries on the other side of the line.

He motions for you to put the call on speaker.

“Mamá, you told me not to lose hope,” he says, taking advantage of a moment of silence from the other end of the line while his mother isn’t sobbing. He’s already planning to go and see her as soon as possible – especially when she’s like this.

For a moment, there is nothing but the sound of his mothers sobs on the other end of the line, and then she speaks. “You bring her home to see me soon, mijo!” She exclaims to Joaquin. “Mi querida niña, you do not understand how happy I am that you are home with your love.” Her words are directed at you now.

There are already tears streaming down your cheeks at her words. “You must have taken really good care of him these past five years for me, suegrita,” you sniff. “Thank you for looking after him when I couldn’t.”

Joaquins arm wraps around your shoulders and squeezes tightly.

“I knew you would come home to him one day, querida,” his mom says. “Soulmates will find each other in life no matter what comes between them. I told him that years ago.”

His mother only hangs up after Joaquin promises that he’ll bring you around to see her tomorrow. You know you’re going to need to prepare yourself for plenty of hugs and kisses from her, and even though for you it’s only been a matter of weeks since you’ve seen her, it’s been five years since she saw you. It’s going to take a while to get used to that fact.

“Mamá took good care of me, angel,” Joaquin says, rubbing his hand up and down your arm. “I don’t know what I would have done without her here. I cried in her arms more than I can count over the past five years.”

You frown, moving until you’re straddling Joaquin’s lap and you can hug him properly. You bury your head in his neck and one of your hands moves to rest in his hair. His arms wrap around your back. “You don’t have to cry anymore, baby.”

Joaquin chuckles a little. “I think I’m probably still going to do a lot of that. I can’t make any promises, angel,” he rubs your back. “A part of me still thinks I’m dreaming. That I’m going to wake up any second and you’re going to be gone.”

You pull away just enough so you can look him in the eyes. “I’m real, Joaquin. I’m not going anywhere. Not unless there’s some other alien out there that’s going to get rid of half all life in the universe again.”

He scrunches up his nose. “Don’t joke about that. Too soon.”

Smiling, you lean in and touch the tip of your nose against his gently. Joaquin takes advantage of the closeness of your face to lean up and capture your lips with his. He can feel you smiling into the kiss. Maybe if he does this enough, he can make his brain realise that this is real. That you’re here in his arms, your lips on his. That against all odds, you’re home.

~~~

He knows the nightmares aren’t going to go away any time soon. They’ve been plaguing him for years at this point. He’s lost count of the amount of times he’s woken up from a dream that you were alive, or a nightmare where he had you back only to lose you again. It’s why, when he wakes up later that night, his heart racing and sweat drenching his body, that it’s not a surprise to him.

What does surprise him is that he forgets you’re here now. It’s not until he hears your soft, sleep filled voice speak his name and feels the mattress move underneath him that he spins around from where he’d moved to sit on the edge of the bed to see you.

“Baby, are you okay?” You ask quietly.

Joaquin takes you by surprise by pretty much launching himself at you. He places a hand on your cheek, another one on your thigh. You’re sitting up, legs crossed, staring at him full of worry.

“Baby?” You try again.

“You’re real,” Joaquin mutters. “I’m not dreaming. It’s not a nightmare.”

You reach up a hand to rest on the one on your cheek. “It’s not a nightmare. I’m real.”

Tears fill Joaquin’s eyes again. He’s still haunted by the nightmare, one where he’d lost you again, and his brain is just sleepy enough to make him think that this is all a dream, even after trying to convince himself that it isn’t. Even after hearing your words confirm that it isn’t.

“Please don’t leave me,” he murmurs.

You shuffle closer to him until you’re face to face, until you can feel his unsteady breaths on your face and your noses are almost touching. “I’m not going anywhere, Joaquin.”

He brushes his lips against yours softly, barely even a kiss. “Don’t leave me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and kiss him properly in an attempt to wake him up a little. It’s almost like he’s still in the midst of the nightmare, that he can’t manage to pull himself out of it completely. The fact that he’s had to deal with all of this alone for the past five years makes your heart hurt.

“I’m home now, baby,” you mutter against his lips after you pull away. “I’m not leaving you. I’m home.”

Joaquin’s arms move to pull you closer to him until you’re almost sitting in his lap. “You’re home,” he says softly.

“I’m home,” you repeat.

He takes a moment to just breathe, then. Focusing on the feeling of your hands on him, the feeling of his hands on you, trying to ground himself. You’re home. You are really home. And for the first time in five years… Joaquin finally feels like he is home too.

#joaquin torres #joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres x you #marvel #marvel x reader #captain america brave new world #mcu #mcu x reader #i'm lowkey terrified to post this cause this fic feels so special to me #but i really hope people will enjoy it!!

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scariusaquarius · 3 months ago

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rehab. 13.

Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Winter Soldier! Fem! Reader

Summary: While on a mission to find any more possible super soldiers that were a part of the Winter Soldier program, Steve and Bucky make a discovery in an abandoned HYDRA base that was cleared out a few years prior to their mission. They discover the Reader, a long-forgotten soldier that was still asleep within a functioning cryostasis pod; still awaiting orders. While Bucky isn't happy about it, he is put up to the challenge of helping to rehabilitate the soldier in Wakanda where she may be able to become a person again.

A/n: Since the Avengers are all gonna be doing their own thing with each group, I want to make sure to include everyone and introduce the rest of the avengers! Also, if you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee! If you would prefer to read Rehab on Archive, you may do so right HERE!

This is an au where Bucky joined the avengers but still rehabilitated in Wakanda (sometime before Infinity War [canon divergent cause NOPE]). I am NOT fluent in Russian, so I did use google translate cause I couldn't find a good translator that I trusted. If anything is wrong, PLEASE let me know!! Also, I tried to list as many warnings as possible so you know what the story will contain as chapters are posted. Stay safe!

Genre: Slowburn, Enemies to Lovers/Friends to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Humor, Drama, Dark Content Rated: Explicit Warning: Angst, Dark Content: Graphic Depictions of Sexual Assault, Blood and Gore, Mentions of Manipulation, Kidnapping, Canon-Typical Violence, Body Horror, Nonconsensual Body Modification/Scarring, Emotional and Physical Abuse, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts/Ideation, Graphic Depictions of Human Remains, Mentions of Sexual Coercion/Manipulation, Death, Misuse of Drugs/Forced Drugging, Self-Harm (Graphic Depictions and Mentions), Nightmares

Author: ScariusAquarius

rehab masterlist. chapter 10 / chapter 11 / chapter 12

There were voices all around her, some familiar and some not. As her head pounded with pain, the soldier was unable to open her eyes. They were so heavy, feeling as though they were like concrete weights stuck to her face, and there was a sicky sweet scent wafting into her nose.

There was an oxygen mask stuck to her face, and though the soldier wanted to tear it off, her limbs were too heavy to really move. She could hear the Fist of HYDRA speaking to someone, but she couldn't place it. All she knew was that he sounded young and sounded worried.

But why?

'Nobody would ever worry about you. You're weak. You're nothing. I don't know what Doris saw in you.'

Doris? The woman from her dream? Why was she relevant? The soldier tried to open her eyes again, but she was unsuccessful still. Her body was too heavy for it to be normal fatigue. They must be drugging her.

"What do you want me to do if something goes wrong?"

The younger man was speaking now, sounding nervous, and if the soldier listened closely, she could hear the boy shuffling from foot-to-foot with anxiety.

"I mean, if she's a super soldier like you, wouldn't she be able to break through the webs?"

"Aren't they supposed to be strong enough to hold two halves of a ship together?"

The young boy chuckled nervously, asking in a small voice.

"Please don't remind me about that. That was almost the worst day of my life."

The Fist of HYDRA just sighed before he stated.

"You'll be fine. With how much anesthetics she's been pumped with, I think she will be too drowsy to fight if she does wake up."

But that wasn't true. She was a machine. A soldier. It was in her nature to fight no matter what condition she was in. Failure was not an option.

Her fingers twitched slightly as she tried to regain movement, and it seemed as though the two men didn't notice as she began to become conscious and aware.

"Didn't Shuri state that she had removed the programming? What even is the programming? All I know is HYDRA is, like, the worst."

As the Fist of HYDRA began to go into depth about what the Winter Soldier program was and how they did the programming, the soldier couldn't help but to pause as her eyes fluttered open.

"-If you began to show signs that you were remembering your old life, they would put you in a Mind Chair and pump as much electricity into your brain as they possibly can without killing you to erase those memories."

"That's...that's horrible. I'm so sorry."

The lights above her were so blinding that she had to squeeze her eyes shut. They opened again, and she sluggishly began to move, ripping the mask off of her face. The young boy who had been speaking seemed to gasp and jump up from the fright, his red and blue suit almost an eyesore to her pounding head.

"Bucky!"

The Fist of HYDRA immediately stood up, hands in the air as if to calm her down, and she had to hold onto the side of the bed as her legs became jelly.

"��се в порядке. Ты в порядке."

She felt nauseous, bile swimming in the back of her throat, and she gripped the side of the table so tightly that she bent it within the shape of her grip.

Standing up carefully, there was a brain fog that was clouding her mind. Things looked too bright; sounds were too loud, and her head began to pound. She stumbled slightly as she stood up completely, and she hissed out.

"Нет!"

The soldier groaned and fell to her knees, and the Fist of HYDRA bravely came to her side, placing a warm hand against her back as he knelt on the ground beside her.

"Все в порядке. Вы помните что-нибудь, что произошло после моего ухода?"

For some reason that the soldier could not understand, tears began to fill her eyes. She looked away from the man with shame, whispering as her shoulders began to shake.

"Voices....people...places...Что вы со мной сделали?"

She looked back at the Fist of HYDRA and she became guarded when she remembered that the boy in red and blue was here as well. He was keeping his distance, his hands raised in a strange position, and the Fist of HYDRA said gently.

"Shuri got rid of the HYDRA programming...or, at least most of it, I think. You're no longer under HYDRA's complete control."

The soldier began to grow anxious and irritated, her hand shooting up to grip the Fist's throat as she hissed.

"Who am I if I am not HYDRA?"

The Fist was calm, his metal hand gripping her wrist tightly, and she knew deep down that she would not win a fight with the Fist of HYDRA if it came down to it.

She never could.

"If you calm down, I can tell you. We found you, (Y/n). We found who you were before you were with HYDRA."

That name. Why was he calling her that name? The soldier gripped his throat for another moment before her hand relaxed slightly, and she whispered in a broken whisper.

"Эта красивая женщина - я?"

The Fist of HYDRA nodded, whispering softly.

"Yes. The pretty woman from your dreams is you."

Suddenly, the faceless mannequins from her strange dreams began to morph into faces, a beautiful woman greeting her by the record player and an angry sneering man yelling at her to get out of his office. The soldier began to feel sick again, and she whispered softly, crying.

"I don't understand. I...I....I'm malfunctioning...my programming is flawed. I...I need to be recalibrated...reprogrammed. I don't want to remember."

In a bout of bravery, the young boy in red and blue knelt to the ground, asking her softly.

"How come you don't want to remember? Don't you want to know who your family is?"

"My only family is HYDRA!"

She threw a metal table at the boy, who yelped and shot out some strange substance that clutched onto the metal and stuck it straight to a wall. The Fist immediately stood up, standing in front of the boy protectively as he urged.

"It's okay. It's okay, we're not going to hurt you. Peter's gonna say sorry, aren't you?"

The Fist gave the boy, Peter, a firm look, and Peter looked sheepish.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you."

He then leaned in close to the Fist, hissing in exasperation.

"She just threw a whole table at my head!"

"At least it's not a knife. That wasn't very fun either."

Peter's eyes seemed to bulge out of his head, and the soldier shook her head as the pounding became worse. The soldier couldn't deal with standing anymore, so she sat down on a metal chair and clutched her head.

"(Y/n)?"

A strange feeling filled her, and the soldier looked up with confusion. Why did he call her that?

"Who is that?"

The soldier winced as the lights became unbearable, and the Fist of HYDRA looked at Peter, asking him gently.

"Can you turn the lights down low for her?"

Peter quickly jogged to a control panel on the wall, dimming the lights just enough that the pressure within her head lessened. The Fist of HYDRA carefully sat down in front of her, saying as he slid over a file to her.

"We found out who you were, (Y/n). We found who you were before you were HYDRA."

The confusion and fear spilled from her eyes as she stared at the file; stared at the pretty woman in the picture on the front, and she whispered brokenly; sounding unsure as the words sputtered out of her chapped lips like a desperate plea.

"Ты мне врешь. I was born in HYDRA. HYDRA is my only family."

The Fist shook his head before he sighed and chewed on his lip slightly, trying to figure out a different way to approach the subject before he asked the soldier.

"Do you remember what I told you before you were reactivated about how my name was given to me before I was with HYDRA; About how I had a family before HYDRA kidnapped me?"

The soldier was struggling to remember, bits and pieces of the conversation coming to mind despite the difficulty, and she nodded after a moment. The Fist replied, his expression calm.

"You had a family and a name too. You had a whole life before you were taken by HYDRA and made into a Winter Soldier. Just like how my parents named me James, your parents named you (Y/n)."

Peter asked, mostly to himself, though the Fist gave him a dirty look.

"Wait, your first name is James? Why do they call you Bucky then?"

"My middle name is Buchanan."

Peter made a face of understand, and the Fist rolled his eyes. Settling his attention back onto her, the soldier felt her body tremble uncontrollably as his body seemed to loom over her. In her mind, she was becoming a speck on the floor; an insignificant piece of trash that deserved nothing while the Fist seemed to grow a thousand times taller. His eyes were angry; his lips snarling, and the soldier began to cry; covering her face and whispering softly.

"Please stop. I'll stop remembering. I'm sorry. There are...flaws in the programming. I need to be rebooted. I must be punished."

She began to ramble, the words spilling from her lips despite the voice in her head yelling at her that she must not speak unless spoken to. She does not deserve to have a tongue in her throat for speaking out-of-line. She must shut herself up and if she cannot, she must utilize her surroundings.

"Hey, hey, slow down. Breathe, (Y/n)."

The name sparked so much confusion; so much pain within her pounding head that she could not help but to scream, lashing out and throwing her balled fists wildly.

"Stop calling me that! I have no name!"

Suddenly, that same sticky substance that had attached to the table was wrapped around her hands. The force of being hit with the web smacked the back of her hand against the wall, and she tried as hard as she could to pull away. However, she was still too weak; too panicked to think clearly.

She became frustrated and upset, kicking at the bed and screaming loudly as the flesh of her hand began to pull painfully; the web stuck on like glue. Despite the pain, however, she kept pulling her hand; even when the webs finally cut deep into her skin and blood ran down her arm.

Arms came around her, making her scream louder; fear running through her scrambled mind. This was it. She was finally going to be punished. She had been out-of-line for too long. She'd been remembering too long. They were finally going to put her in her place.

"Hey, it's okay! It's okay. Listen to my voice. Listen to me. You're okay. Follow my voice, солдат. Вы не в беде."

Tears streamed down her scarred cheeks, and the soldier was hyperventilating. She was still struggling, trying to break free of his hold, but he was much stronger than her.

He had always been much stronger. Much better. Everything that she could not be.

'You're despicable. Even the Fist of HYDRA would do better than this. Shall I call him to teach you a lesson?'

"Мне очень жаль. Прости, Кулак ГИДРЫ! Пожалуйста, не делайте мне больно. Я буду слушаться!"

Bucky swore his heart had never shattered so hard before in his life. He remembered when his mother had passed away; Rebecca too young to really understand what was going on and why their mother wasn't waking up. His father hadn't even been home that day; too busy working that Bucky had to run for a neighbor.

He remembered being scared; confused and distraught about his mother suddenly passing and the way he just couldn't understand why. Why did his mother die? Why did she have to leave them so soon? How was he going to take care of Rebecca?

That weight that had settled on his shoulders had eased when he met Steve, but that side of him that had been jaded by his mothers death and the world and the ignorance of how to care for another human being...it truly never went away.

To hear the woman in his arms plea for The Winter Soldier not to hurt her...it was almost akin to death.

"What on Earth is going on in here?!"

Shuri's voice trilled through the air, and though (Y/n) was still thrashing in his arms, Bucky let her go as his arms fell; too shocked and winded to be able to function properly. Peter took over, webbing the girl completely while giving Bucky a concerned look, and though his mouth was moving, Bucky couldn't hear a damn thing.

Please don't hurt me. Please don't hurt me. Please don't hurt me.

Fist of HYDRA. The Winter Soldier. That is who you are and who you will always be.

I'll obey!

Oh, god, Howard!

"James."

Bucky's head shook slightly as he was roused from his thoughts, and he was immediately aware of the lack of screams. Glancing down, he noticed that (Y/n) had been sedated and was completely out; webbed up and lying on her back on the ground. Her cheeks were wet, eyelashes dewed with tears, and Bucky could feel bile rising up in his stomach.

"James, I need you to focus on me, alright? Listen to me."

Shuri's voice was calming, but Bucky could only stutter out his words as the shock continued to blow through his body.

"I...I'm here. I just...I...I think I need a moment."

Bucky immediately made his way to the balcony outside the lab, breaking the door from how hard he had pushed it open, and when he got outside and around the wall, Bucky immediately braced himself against it and began to cry.

You can never escape HYDRA. Where one head falls, two shall grow back in its place.

You will always be HYDRA. Even if you escape, you will miss your time here. It will call you home whether you like it or not.

I don't care. He killed my parents.

He was hyperventilating; panicking. His hand was going numb; the tips of his fingers tingling, and he could feel the need to vomit growing. His skin was sheening with sweat, but Bucky only felt cold.

He felt the cryogenic frost crawling up his body and invading his ears and nose and mouth, and he slid to the ground, placing his hands over his head to drown out the sound of the screams; of Maria Stark's cries; of (Y/n)'s pleas.

"Um, Mr. Barnes?"

Peter's voice was gentle, though Bucky was still lost within his head. Peter shifted from foot-to-foot, unsure of what to do, so he just sat next to Bucky quietly. He stared at the ground and pursed his lips, a furrow in his brow.

Peter didn't really know how to deal with panic attacks. He could recite complex inorganic compound formulas like the alphabet and he could describe the Standard Model Lagrangian like it was another day...but Peter had never been good with mental health.

Hell, he wasn't really a star model when it came to mental health and had no room to talk, but seeing Bucky like this...to see that woman in the lab that had been so badly abused by HYDRA plea for her life...it was horrifying.

At least, it sounded like she was pleading for her life. Peter didn't really know any Russian despite Natasha teaching him a few words. Taking a deep breath, Peter spared a glance at Bucky, hearing the way his heart was starting to slow down a bit. He was patient, just sitting with Bucky quietly as the man began to come down from his panic.

Bucky's jaw clenched slightly before he looked down at the ground, wiping his eyes and cheeks, and he said softly as Peter glanced over at him with a caring expression.

"Thanks, kid. I'm sorry you had to see me like that."

Peter shook his head, replying carefully.

"Oh, it's not a problem, Mr. Barnes. Sometimes we...sometimes we need a friend, and sometimes we need to be a friend. It's what we do. We help people."

Bucky nodded carefully, muttering.

"I see why Steve likes you, kid."

"Captain America likes me? That's so cool."

Bucky snorted, and Peter chuckled in embarrassment. The boy then paused, looking nervous before he asked.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

Bucky replied without missing a beat.

"Don't push it."

"Understood."

Bucky shook his head before he watched Peter get up and dust his suit off. Bucky was quiet, just observing the kid for a moment, and he turned his gaze away when Peter stated.

"I'll go back inside and check on her. I'm here for you if you need it, Mr. Barnes. Honest."

Bucky nodded, and he called after Peter before Peter could get into the lab again.

"Hey, Queens."

"Yes, sir?"

Bucky almost bristled at the way Peter called him 'sir' and instead retorted with a pointed look.

"It's Bucky. Mr. Barnes was my dad."

Peter smiled gently, nodding his head before he said.

"I'll make sure to remember that, Bucky."

STORY NOTES: The soldier has woken up despite the anesthetics going through her body, possibly due to her heightened metabolism adapting and gaining tolerance to the drug, and she is aware that Bucky and another person are in the room with her, who turns out to be Peter Parker aka Spiderman. They are conversing on what to do if she wakes up, and Bucky makes a comment about the incident with the ferry in Spiderman: Homecoming.

Peter then asks about the Winter Soldier programming, in which Bucky explains the process and what it was and how they would take the memories of their subjects if they started to remember their old life. At this time, the soldier finally gets up, and Peter alerts Bucky. While the soldier is trying to orient herself, Bucky tries to comfort her, but the soldier is unwilling to accept comfort.

The soldier asks what Shuri had done to her, and Bucky explains that Shuri had removed most of the Winter Soldier programming that it would no longer affect the soldier. The soldier is distraught by the loss of her HYDRA identity, and she makes a comment internally about how if she wanted to fight Bucky, she wouldn't be able to as she never could, implying that she knew Bucky when he was the Winter Soldier as well. Bucky takes that time to introduce her name to her and let her know that he found her previous identity.

(Y/n) becomes distraught, and though Peter tries to ask her about her feelings and family, (Y/n) lashes out and tells Peter that her only family is HYDRA. She lashes out, and Peter uses his web to detain her. She suddenly has a lapse in her memory when Bucky calls her by her given name, and Bucky tries to tell her that they found out who she was before HYDRA again. He shows her the file, and (Y/n) is perturbed by seeing a picture of the woman she had seen in the mirror.

Bucky reaffirms to her that her name is (Y/n) (L/n) and she had a whole family before HYDRA, and she begins to panic so badly that she begins to hallucinate. Bucky calls her by her name again, and the soldier finally snaps, trying to lash out at him again. She begins to have a meltdown, and though Bucky tries to comfort her by holding her, the soldier has an auditory flashback of when she was told she was going to be punished by the Winter Soldier.

She begs Bucky not to hurt her, that she is sorry and she will comply, and Bucky is devasted. He recalls how he had felt when his mother had passed away, and he relates the feeling to (Y/n) begging him not to hurt her to the feeling of death. Shuri comes in, asking what is going on, and Peter finally completely webs (Y/n) when Bucky becomes too shocked to keep a firm hold on her.

Bucky begins to have a panic attack and exits out of the lab, and Peter follows after him to make sure that Bucky is okay. Peter thinks about how he doesn't really know how to deal with mental health properly and that seeing Bucky in such a state of disarray and hearing (Y/n) plead for her life was scary for him to witness.

Peter chooses to sit with Bucky quietly, and Bucky is thankful. Peter reassures Bucky that he doesn't mind helping him and asks if Bucky would like to talk about it, and Bucky tells Peter not to push his luck. After Peter tells Bucky he is going to check on (Y/n) and calls him Mr. Barnes, Bucky tells him to call him by his nickname, implying that they have further their friendship. End scene.

TRANSLATIONS

Все в порядке. Ты в порядке. - It's okay. You're okay.

Все в порядке. Вы помните что-нибудь, что произошло после моего ухода? - It's okay. Do you remember anything that happened after I left?

Что вы со мной сделали? - What have you done to me?

Эта красивая женщина - я? - That beautiful/pretty woman is me?

Ты мне врешь. - You're lying to me.

солдат - soldier

Вы не в беде. - You're not in trouble.

Мне очень жаль. - I'm so sorry

Прости, Кулак ГИДРЫ! - I'm sorry, Fist of HYDRA. (This translated directly as "I'm sorry, HYDRA Fist")

Пожалуйста, не делайте мне больно. Я бу��у слушаться! - Please don't hurt me. I'll obey!

TAGLIST: @tilldeathripsusapart @vicmc624 @mgchaser @aash3 @samfunko @seventeen-x @valckenaux @babybeeelle @sc4rrc @cjand10

#bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes x reader #james bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #the winter soldier #winter soldier #marvel #marvel x reader #captain america #captain america x reader

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maxillness · 1 year ago

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🇳🇱 || FU In My Head || MV33 x Perez!twin!Reader

Warnings: 18+, age gap, Google translated Spanish, yearning, oral (m)

Wordcount: 1.4k

He knew it was wrong. He knew he had to stop, but god did it feel so good

Imagining her body while her jerks off, was the worst sin he’s done to date

Imagining it was her hands on his cock on his own

Imagining her mouth on his cock as he comes

Imagine getting fucked by her as he laid in his bed, coming down from his orgasm

It didn’t help she showed up at the garage or motorhome, he couldn’t exactly tell her to leave, he couldn’t actually tell her anything, as he would stutter rapidly every time he caught her scent in his nose

“Good job, Max” She said, coming up behind him, touching his waist softly, making him turn his head towards her

“Thank you” Even just the two words he couldn’t get out, stuttering too much

“You seen my brother?” She leaned her head closer to his ear, the talk of engineers and mechanics filling the motorhome

“He’s in his drivers room” Surprisingly he could get his words out in an understandable voice

“Thank you” She let go of his waist, walking towards Checo’s drivers room

“¿Alguna vez vas a hacer un movimiento?” Are you ever going to make a move?. She slid down the wall of the drivers room as Checo spoke to her in that loving brother tone

“No pienso” I don’t think so. She said taking a sip of the water bottle he had given her

“¿Por qué no? Obviamente le gustas” Why not? He obviously likes you. He sat down on the couch opposite to her, leaning back

“Lo sé, pero quiero ver cuánto tiempo le toma a él mismo hacer el movimiento” I know, but I want to see how long it takes for him to make the move himself. She sighed, putting her head against the wall

“Eso nunca va a pasar y lo sabes” That’s never going to happen, and you know it. He said, chuckling, almost laughing

“Si quiere meteres en mis pantalones, tiene que decirlo él mismo” If he wants to get in my pants, he has to say it himself. She said smiling, sliding her legs up to her chest

“Eres algo tuya” You’re something of yours. She didn’t listen to his comment when she heard small whines from the other side of the door

She knitted her eyebrows together as she listen “Please. Fuck, yes” Followed by a small moan

“¿Qué?” What?. He asked, seeing at her confused eyes

“Nada” Nothing. She looked back up at him, picking another subject to talk about than the previous

She tried focusing on the conversation with her brother, but she could still hear into the room behind her

“Please, fuck. Yes, just like that. Y/N…” The moan that came from his lips indicated he came with her name rolling off his tongue

“¿Quieres que te lleve de regreso al hotel?” Do you want me to take you back to the hotel?. He asked standing up from the couch

“No gracias, primero necesito hacer algo” No thank you, I need to do something first. She said, standing up as well, groaning slightly at the pain in her lower back

She waited until Checo had left before she knocked on Max’ door to his drivers room

He opened the door, his face turning all shades of pink as he saw her standing there with a slight smirk on her lips

“Can I come in?” She asked, thickening her accent purposely, watching the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he sank

“S-sure” He said, opening the door wider for her to enter

“Did you have a good wank?” She asked, sitting on the small table in the room, watching the way the blush turned deeper

“Did you hear that?” He asked, almost impossible to hear his words

“All of it, darling” She smiled, crossing her ankles, pushing her chest out, looking at him with eyes filled with filth

“All of it?” His eyes looked into his shoes, hands into his pockets of his jeans

“Get over here, amar” She said, spreading her legs, giving him space to stand in between them

She slowly walked over to her, never once looking up at her. She hooked her finger under his chin, forcing him to look up at her

“If you wanna get in my pants, tell me” His hands was placed on either sides of her thighs, too close for him to think straight

“What?” His words were stuck in his throat, hurting to get out

“Tell me. Tell what you’re thinking about when you’re alone” Her hands was placed on his waist, pulling him closer, lips almost making contact

“I won’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me what you need” She said when he didn’t speak

She leaned in, lips so close of any of them spoke, their lips would graze each other

“Please… I want you so bad. Thinking about you every time I’m alone” He almost let out a whimper when their lips touched

“Good boy” She leaned in, their lips colliding.

He kissed back immediately. Her hands went to his jaw, pulling him into a rougher kiss, his own hands coming to rest on her waist

She forced his lips apart with her tongue, making him gasp slightly. He whimpered at the feeling of her tongue against the walls of his cheeks

Her hands traveled from his jaw, down his torso and landed under his shirt, making him shiver at her cold fingers

They only parted when she pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it at the ground

She went back to kissing him, but this time at his neck, drawing on low moans from him

“I-i can’t keep- Shit… Quiet” He let out a quite louder moan when she started sucking at his skin softly, making him cover his mouth with his hand

“You fucking better” She got off the table, grabbing his wrist, taking his hand away from his mouth “I don’t know how many people are left” She smiled, guiding him back towards the couch

“Sit” She forced him down on the couch, drawing out a huff from him “Buen chico” Good boy. She said, going down on her knees in front of him

He held his breath as she unbuckled his belt, looking up at him through hooded eyes, pure lust in her eyes

He lifted his hips so she could pull down his jeans, his boxers as well, helping him step out of them, throwing them with his shirt

“Tan bonito” So pretty. She said, kissing his inner thighs, making him spread his legs apart, giving her access to scoot in between them

“Please” He pleaded as she grabbed his hips, pulled him closer to the edge, her face just in front his rock hard cock

“Patience, chico” He whined, but it was soon replaced with a moan when she softly licked the tip of his cock “Quiet” She said, voice stern

“Jus’ feels so good” He grabbed the edge of the couch, knuckles turning white from the force as she drove back to lick softly at him

Her nails was digging hardly into his skin, surly making marks for him to see tomorrow, for him to feel tomorrow

He tried keeping his hips still, but he felt the need to buck them once her tongue started swirling around his tip

“Please… Stop teasing” His eyes was shut closed, mouth hanging silently open, head thrown into the back of the couch

She gave in, hollowing her cheeks, taking all of him in, making him hit the back of her throat, gaging around him

He shivered at the vibrations, feeling the pleasure in all of his body. The moan he tried to hold in, came out as a whimper instead

“Please… Feels s’ good” His thighs shook, almost trapping her body between them

She sped up, holding her hair away from her face with one of her hands, the other still roughly around his hip

“Fuck, please… Y/N, please” His words were breathless as he started twitching in her mouth

“‘M close” He managed to keep his sounds at bay, only letting out small whines

Her tongue dragged up his vain as she went up, which pulled him over the edge, whole body shaking as he shot his cum down her throat, barely able to contain his moans

She helped him down from his orgasm before popping off him, swallowing his cum and standing up

“Are you okay, cariño?” She asked, kissing his forehead, the sweat covering her lips

“Mhm. Fine” He opened his eyes, taking her hands and kissing the back of them “Thank you”

“Anytime, bebé” She smiled, helping him getting his clothes back on

#Spotify #smut #formula one #dom!reader #Max Verstappen #max verstappen smut #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x reader smut #sub!max verstappen

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lotusarchon · 5 months ago

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been rereading svsss soooo combining my current hyperfixations here

everytime there's a reader isekai au it's always them loving the universe they've transmigrated into but what about a reader who's a borderline HATER (me) of black myth wukong or lego monkie kid

(tdlr: this does not represent how i feel about either video game and show, because i like them both, the fandoms are just...eh...but i do think it'll be funny lmfao)

i'm talking a full time hater. they've read jttw and fssy and of COURSE they love those books, they're a huge myth nerd.

then they take one fucking look at the adaptions inspired by them and immediately go "oh fuck no"

a reader who DESPISES lmk's portrayal of sun wukong because what the fuck do you mean he's not a buddhist after his journey? what do you mean he didn't kick the jade emperor's ass and fucking isn't badass and cool? what the fuck do you mean the six eared macaque is his 'best friend' and people SHIP them?? what do you mean no one likes tripitaka and apparently the three other pilgrims were reincarnated when that isn't factually correct??

a reader who positively despises the plot line in lmk because WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN NEZHA'S DEMOTED TO SOME CANON FODDER WHEN HE SHOULD BE BADASS?? or...or AZURE LION BEATING THE JADE EMPEROR?? WHO THE FUCK EVEN IS THE BROTHERHOOD EWWW!? what do you mean this dragon girl has the samadhi fire ew ew ewww what is this plot...

reader who fights with fans because of their (barf) mindset and also shut?? up?? about nezha being a 12 year old?? gross ass??

reader who watches the show religiously but only to find every flaw in it and when people argue about the show being a children's only audience they fight back with "idgaf if it's for kids they should teach it properly dumb fucking cunts gtfo my dms before i doxx you"

same thing with black myth wukong tbh. reader who hates black myth wukong because...no...no, sun wukong most certainly wouldn't do that. graphics are fine whatever but but this is?? inaccurate??

reader who's tearing into fanboys too because shut the fuck up about this character pingping bring sexy and also why the fuck does she exist?? why is red son not actually pif's son?? why is there some fucking random monkey tryna collect those whatchamacallit (relics) NO THIS IS WRONG

reader who's gagging cause...sun wukong wasn't in love with nobody and why is there a brief fucking romance plotline with the monkey 2.0 wasn't this a fighting game ewew get it AWAAAAY

reader who hates and then...uh oh. too much dumplings is making them choke....guys...guys i think they're dying??

reader who wakes up in bmw or lmk as some... rabbit spirit? (so weird) but absolutely SEETHING at being here because oh fuck this bitch ass god awful plot suck my cock we are NOT DOING THIS

reader deciding that avoiding the obnoxious characters would definitely be better for their sanity....only for some blasted loud ass obnoxious stupid cunt fucking google translated voice pings in their head... telling them if they don't participate in the plot they'll be executed

reader thinking they'd rather die but then the system goes "oh, you thought we were joking?" and gives them the worst experience ever that by the end of it they have to swallow their pride and participate in the plot....☹️ Unfortunately

reader who accidentally wifes up the characters and has to deal with everyone forgetting their roles...and the system threatening them about the plot too like bro how is this my fault these bitches are dumb? fuck you mean you're gonna kill me ag- no, no, you're right uh i'll fix it i'll fix it.

Anyways I'm gonna write a fanfic with an OC like this cause it's too funny to pass up and also I'm 100% gonna die with my wipes hahahaha fuck..

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rootspiral · 6 months ago

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Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 3 part 3

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])

lilia: falling through time, desperately trying to help alice

agatha: bitch I'm trying to save myself!!!!! oh she's so awkward when she thinks lilia's going mad. she's a moment away from grabbing a broom and going there, there like in that 30 rock scene

I know they had a relatively low budget for this show and it was such a blessing in disguise. they invested in great sets and instead of cgi they relied on classic cinema tricks that I find so satisfying?? Idk if it's just nostalgia talking. here they simply move the camera away for a moment, lower the lights and move the actor in position, and it makes for an amazing jumpscare.

baby lilia asking 'vuoi vedere?' do you want to see? because it is a choice for lilia. for a long time she chose not to use her gift- she was simply too powerful, she saw too much, and the knowledge of the future scarred her and made her an outcast among others

alice's smile at seeing a vision of her mom T-T

why inconvenient? what was jen doing? she was an obstetrician and midwife. she was helping women out with herbs and pagan knowledge passed down from mother to daughter. Back in the day midwives were struggling to get their skills recognized in an increasingly male dominated field, they were advocating alternative treatments for women constantly humiliated by condescending modern doctors - from forced bed rest to insane asylums to lobotomy in worst case scenarios. think Charlotte Perkins Gilman's short story, The Yellow Wallpaper. think about everything that happened to Virginia Woolf.

we know that alice was a teenager when lorna died in a fire. she wasn't well, alice says, and we see now that she had a drinking problem. it's equally possible that the demon got to her or that she set herself on fire out of desperation. and if lorna could feel her own mother dying, alice could too.

daang great zombie makeup on the teacher lady

lilia when her incredible abilities made her able to see Death: burdened by knowledge way beyond the scope of humanity she goes into exile

agatha when her incredible abilities made her able to see Death: you know what I'm gonna tap that

I saw people saying that because the Road wasn't real nothing that happened in the show mattered, that they all died for nothing. I disagree completely, and not only because Billy's chaos magic is so astonishingly powerful that he can create a functional Road out of thin air. like, it wasn't a trick, he made it real. But more importantly, what happened to these women, their experiences, their growth on the Road is real. Even if Billy didn't do it on purpose, even if it's fucked up that a teenager can essentially go, you know what would be cool? if they all experienced their deepest trauma! but that's the point, that's the point, that's the whole damn point of the show. life is chaos and nonsense and heartbreak, it's up to you to find a meaning where there isn't any. look at lilia! the lesson is not that you're going to die, but what you choose to do with the cards that you're dealt, with the time that you're given.

while Patti clearly has an american accent, she is speaking correct sicilian, tutti morti su' - they could have had her talk in italian and hardly anyone would have noticed, but they went above and beyond with the details. the latin in the show is also rather impressive, like they actually hired experts rather than relying on google translate

agatha has gotten too used to run leaving a pile of bodies behind. not so easy to consider them just food when you have to live alongside them and witness their feelings, is it?? first wanda and now this!

@perpetualanon pointed out yesterday that agatha also had selfish reasons for wanting to save billy, i.e. she didn't want to risk him being poisoned because who knows what horrors a hallucinating billy could create. Yes! exactly that! it's always worth saying that when agatha has these fleeting moments of compassion and altruism it's in the context of a whole lotta selfishness. i think of her as that drawing of Stitch's badness level, her whole body is almost filled to the brim with awfulness and there's only a thin layer of goodness that she's constantly trying to smother. her actions on the Road are almost entirely selfish, but for the first time in centuries she's surrounded by people, like Lilia here and Jen and Alice and especially Billy, who are accidentally nurturing her almost atrophied good side. and lemme tell you she's pissed about it!

of course these two don't know what a sous vide is, one is dirt poor and the other eats people.

I'm gonna take a stand for zoomers here, he might have never learned what counterclockwise means, but millennials like me would also have hesitated and tried to picture it in our minds. because a lot of us lack spacial intelligence and are generally rather dumb

the shock and terror on her face when she hears nicky crying

another great special effect achieved only with lights and the cast shuffling out of frame

they show the darkhold because they need to mislead viewers and can't give nicky's story away just yet, but doesn't it make sense that agatha would see it? all these centuries blaming rio, and deep down agatha is haunted not by Death, but by her own actions and choices. the way she kept Nicky isolated and unsafe. the way she insulted his memory by going on killing sprees instead of letting herself mourn. the way she used the darkhold to corrupt her soul more and more, because she was never brave enough to confront her guilt.

kathryn hahn really said, do you want Emotional Devastation???? do you wanna see a woman SUFFER? do you want your heart put through a blender??? I can do that in TWO seconds

agatha wants to NOT DIE so badly that she has to drop the clown act and give jen a proper pep talk. because she knows what makes people tick and she can uplift just as well as she can destroy, she can help jen because she knows her so well. there's always that potential there, all of agatha's talent and her intelligence and experience could shape her into a great mother and sister in a coven. a potential that evanora refused to see and that will likely never be fulfilled.

and the irony, the irony of never wanting to hurt jen, to deliberately avoid going after her - because she's a midwife. because nicky was stillborn, because she had to give birth alone in the woods. agatha believes with all her heart that jen's work is fundamentally good and important. and yet she was the one who bound and tortured and violated her. she was so fucking focused on herself that she didn't even realize she was tramping and destroying everything in her path like a mad steamroller. she allied with the enemy, she went against her community's best interests. there's a lot to think about there, I really want to explore it more

patti during that hot ones episode

NOW YOU GUYS REMEMBER HER. and of course it's alice who does

your internalized stereotypes are really testing lilia's patience, billy (and while they consider the oven sharon is writhing and dying on the table)

how it started: jen pushing lilia out of the way

how it ended: "you are my sister in the craft" 🥲

I love you patti lupone

alice is strong! alice is noble! alice is pure of heart!

gee i wonder why

they had to add a goonies poster in billy's room because of this scene, but i guess disney didn't want to buy the copyright so the poster says "the goofballs"

agatha shoving everyone and then kicking jen twice for good measure

my guilty pleasure is watching reactors on youtube (don't judge) and everyone, everyone had my same reaction to sharon's death: she is not really dead. it was too unceremonious, too sudden. you cannot have debra jo rupp unconscious for half an episode and then get rid of her like that, she's too talented, too funny, how can they keep the humor up without her? if sharon is gone they don't want to watch anymore! no, they're gonna bring her back for sure, they're witches, they're going to find a way.

And then Alice dies, and it's unfair, it's too sad, she just had her big victory! that doesn't sit right with you, that the writers would do her so dirty. And then Lilia dies.

Wanda said it from the very beginning: we cannot reverse death, no matter how sad it makes us. Some things are forever. Sharon's death was horrible and uncomfortable and senseless on purpose, because these shows are about the exploration of grief. How can you make peace with the impossible? How can you reconcile yourself with a nice fun lady dying after losing her last shred of agency, scared and alone and forgotten? Didn't she deserve so much more than being just a casualty of witchfolk drama? And how can you reconcile yourself with someone as good and as wonderful as Alice dying in such a cruel way? What about the death of a parent? of a spouse? of a child? What about your own death, as inevitable and inescapable as your birth?

I'm posting this one early cos I didn't sleep last night and I wanna take a nap now 🥲 when I'm tired i ramble, I knew that already. sorry-y!

we get to episode four tomorrow, and y'all know what, or rather WHO, that means!

go to episode 4 part 1

#agatha all along #agatha deep dive #agatha harkness #jennifer kale #alice wu gulliver #sharon davis #character study

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maryleclerc · 2 years ago

Text

𝐫𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡 — charles leclerc

pairing: prince!charles leclerc x reader ; prince!charles leclerc x princess!reader ; prince!dad!charles leclerc x princess!mom!reader

summary: in which the royal family and prince charles leclerc finally spoke out about the rumors of an affair between him and the actress.

warning: english is not my native language, use google translation

au: yea yea i know some people don’t like the cheating plot, but i think it’s just so bored if everything just go so smooth :(((

read my royal series here

y/n_leclerc

Liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc and others

y/n_leclerc I’m posting this just to let you know that our marriage life is still as great as it is before every false rumor, a false rumor always a false rumor so I’m not worried or even care about it, and beside that we’re planning on having our 2nd child together!! 🫶🏻 You might ask who idea it is right? It’s my husband Charles and our son Christian Arthur just ask me if I can give him little sister or little brother, and my husband also said he want a mini Y/n running around the house.

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charles_leclerc ❤️ Tellement chanceux de t'avoir

⤷ y/n_leclerc Christian and I are so lucky to have you by our side

arthur_leclerc Can’t wait to meet a new addition of Y/n Leclerc

⤷ y/n_leclerc Wait what 😂 I’m not even pregnant yet how do you know its going to be a baby girl

ilovecharlesleclerc_ Hii, may i ask what is Prince Christian Arthur hobby?

⤷ y/n_leclerc Oh, he love go-karting, him and Charles use to go-karting every weekend. They LOVE F1

favgirly/n The way she’s so calm makes me love her even more

charles_leclerc

Liked by y/n_leclerc and others

charles_leclerc I, Prince Charles Leclerc of Monte Carlo would like to declear the rumor one more time, that there are no romantic relationship betwen us, the only love that I shared is for Y/n and Christian. And that’s it

Also I wanted to said this to @y/n_leclerc

I must say how happy I am to have a wife who is always willing to help me solve problems in a very calm way, whenever I have difficult problems to solve, Y/n always being the one to help me find different solutions made me respect her even more. More than that, I always feel lucky to have her as my wife and mother of my children.

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viennajaula_ We need a sorry from you @kristiannabailee_official 🙂 you better post it or i’m gonna have to “hunt” you down myself

redferarri Why the worst things always happen to our Charles, he’s the nicest guy and Y/n too they’re just jealous of them!! 😩

genni See i told you, he never ever do that horrible things

blueivyy Not gonna, i hate that girl so much she can’t even say hi to her fan

⤷ loveliee She’s super mean, mean to every single fan

lanadelreysmywife Y/n, the most beloved Princess of Monte Carlo 😩😩😩😩😩

kristianabailee_official

12,682 likes

kristianabailee_official Hi, I'm Kristiana Bailee and you probably know me from my role or with the most recent rumor that I'm in a relationship with Prince Charles Leclerc but in reality it's just me. Yes, I have feelings for Prince Charles Leclerc and I want to write this post to apologize to the fans who have suffered the hurt, the disappointment caused by me and more especially, I want to apologize to Prince Charles Leclerc and Princess Y/n of Monte Carlo for causing these unnecessary misunderstandings.

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krisanddede That’s okay, atleast you know what you doing is wrong. We forgive you

theleclercfaam Should i believe her or not :))

y/nismyqueen The manager better keep her away from the whole royal family. They won’t know what she would do next

sophiagreen I hope Prince Christian Arthur won’t see all of this shit when he become adult, she clearly wants to ruin the reputation of Prince Charles Leclerc and the royal family!

jessica_ 🙂🙂

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ladcedes · 1 year ago

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melodrama

charles leclerc x musical theatre actress!reader, social media!au

summary a melodrama is defined as a dramatic piece with exaggerated characters and plot-lines that play to the audience’s emotions. when charles leclerc dates a queen of drama, there is bound to be some that seeps into his life.

notes yes, the title was from the lorde album. warning, google translated french

the anniversary posts

yourusername

Liked by lilymhe and 582.382 others

yourusername mon amour ❤️ i never could’ve imagined that i would spend 5 years with you… and i never imagined that i could find someone so amazing, who could make me feel like the most spectacular person in the world, the most special girl, yet also remind me of how human i am and how i’m allowed to be only human. you always manage to whisk me away from the pressures of life, push everything away, and make it feel like it’s just us in this world. you, my darling, are the comfort and calm of my soul. with you forever by my side, i can face anything

view 366 replies

12 March 2023

arthur_leclerc i can't believe it's been 5 years since you two started being publicly insufferable

⤷ charles_leclerc nous t'aimons aussi, arthur 🙄🙄🙄 (we love you, too, arthur)

carmenmmundt congrats on 5 years and cheers to many more!!

⤷ yourusername thank you love! ❤️

f1wagsite the caption is too sweet im jealous

⤷ ynfans2023 literally their relationship makes me wanna go in the bathtub with my hairdryer

charles_leclerc

Liked by alex_albon and 906.438 others

charles_leclerc always the light on my darkest days, my sunshine when it rains, melting away all my worries and doubts, always bringing me up from the lowest of low points. you are my courage and strength. you shine so brightly that you light up everything around you, including myself. you bring out the best in me and love even the worst. you give warmth to the deepest corners of my soul. with you, i’m the best and most natural version of myself. these 5 years together have been the best years of my life, i wish i had met you sooner. even eternity isn’t enough to be with you, mon étoile ❤️

view 523 replies

12 March 2023

lewishamilton congratulations guys ❤️

pierregasly congrats on 5! so where's the ring mate? 😂😂

⤷ alexalbon seconding this 😂😂

⤷ hamilfans pierre?? ALEX?? do they know something we don't or are they playing??

valenciacia the caption??? ME WHENNN 😭😭😭😭😭

⤷ f1girliee RIGHTT like "even eternity isn't enough to be with you"???? i'm going crazy.

⤷ leclercwdc i'm about to go take a bath with my toaster rn

charles_leclerc posted • 8/2/2023 | yourusername posted • 2/3/2023

charles_leclerc

Liked by pierregasly and 867.338 others

charles_leclerc my favourite actress ❤️ unbelievably proud of you, mon cherie @yourusername.

to be blessed with the love of such a hard-working, talented actress is an honour. you performed amazingly tonight and every other night before.

11 February 2023

view 406 comments

yourusername charlie you are such a sap (i love you so much)

⤷ charles_leclerc only for you darling (i love you more)

itsnessa they make me believe in love

⤷ loveleclerc real i don't know what i would do if they broke up

⤷ wdcleclerc i think i would lose hope in love

44britcedes my fav couple 🫶🫶🫶

yourusername

Liked by charles_leclerc and 724.198 others

yourusername all's well that ends well

3 May 2023

view 698 comments

myagramm is the ring on yn's finger a new addition orrrr

⤷ pierregasly i guess we found where the ring is

⤷ leclercism beating the breakup allegations with marriage allegations. only them.

⤷ myagramm PIERRE?? HELLO???

httpsainz is that ring what i think it is

solarpiastri im actually crying they rlly said fuck the break up rumours and decided to start up engagement rumours instead

a/n: might make a part 2 if i feel like it in like 5 months

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monzabee · 2 years ago

Text

a not so meet cute – cl16

paper rings, prologue(?)

masterlist || series masterlist ||

Summary: The one where Charles meets his neighbour, who quickly captures his attention.

Pairing: charles leclerc x reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: none other than charles being charles, also might have some cursing, google translate french

Request: “Hii if you’re taking requests could you please write a fic for Charles where he’s your best friend and he asks you to fake date him because he think he likes another girl so he wants to make her notice him/make her jealous kind of thing and you agree even though you love him and during the fake dating he realises that he loves you too and yeah angst fluff and all but a happy ending .If you decide to write this tysm and incase you don’t feel like writing this that’s cool too thanks either way ❤️”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! although i am still working on the first chapter of this new series, i wanted to write a little something for you guys to introduce you to the world i had in mind! i know it was not on the wip schedule, but the inspiration struck so i decided to go with it. ever since i saw the wedding pictures of margaret qualley and jack antonoff, the only thing i've been thinking of was the song, and i though it was the perfect song for the characters i had in mind. so, welcome to the new series, inspired by the request above, so thank you for the anon who put the idea in my mind to create this whole series, and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

August, 2017

He met Margaret on our rooftop, she was wearing white And he was like, "I might be in trouble"

Charles loves his country, he really does. He’s always been patriotic of some sorts, he supposes. But the one thing he absolutely loathes about Monaco? The heat, no questions asked. The worst part isn’t even the heat itself, per se, it is the fact that his apartment has no elevator and he has to walk up five stories just to make it to his apartment – in the heat. So yeah, even though he is as patriotic of a Monégasque as they come, he definitely wishes he was somewhere else at the moment. When he does make to his floor, however, he’s met with a rather peculiar view, where his new neighbour is yelling at someone on the phone.

“No, I said I wanted the granite counters,” the person specify, fingers clutching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “No!” The man straight up yells, “Ceux en granit, connard, pas ceux en graphite. I don’t think they even come in graphite!”

Deciding to remain silent as he makes his way towards his own apartment, Charles ignores the man standing in front of the apartment opposite of his. Though, he realises that the apartment’s door is open and there is construction going on inside, which explains the drilling sounds he’s been hearing early in the morning and the smell of fresh paint that never seems to leave the shared floor.

Side-eyeing the whole ordeal, he manages to make it to his apartment without attracting the attention of the man – or so he thinks. Just as he’s about to unlock his front door, he feels a pat on his shoulder. As he turns towards the man, there is a curious look on his face, “Hi?”

“Hello,” the man greets, “do you know how i can contact the superintendent?”

For reasons unknown (extreme hangover), Charles’ brain decides to blank out, “Quoi?”

“Le commissaire,” the man clarifies, “savez-vous comment je peux les contacter?” And Charles realises he would have been impressed with the man’s accent if he wasn’t so hangover from the night before. The superintendent, do you know how I can contact them?

“Ah,” Charles nods in understanding, “sure, let me give you his number.”

After the man saves the number he gives to his phone, he extends his hand in a friendly greeting. “I owe you one, I’m Declan, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

“I’m Charles,” he responds with, what he hopes to be, a friendly smile. Motioning the apartment behind them, he asks, “Are you my new neighbour?”

“Oh, no, no,” Declan laughs, and it’s a warm, almost infectious laugh. It reminds Charles of– well, it doesn’t matter anymore. Declan’s voice draws him back to the conversation, “My sister is, I’m renovating it for her.”

Charles nods in understanding, “Ah, I see. I’ve never seen her around, I don’t think.”

“Well that’d be because she’s as annoying as little sisters come,” Declan laughs again, and this time it manages to get a smile out of Charles. “You know what? We’re actually having a small party at my place tonight, why don’t you come?”

“You’ve just met me,” Charles points out, voicing his confusion, “you really want to invite me to your house?”

“Pish posh,” Declan waves him off, already starting to walk back to his sister’s apartment “I’ll send you the details, bring alcohol!”

Charles tries to come up with excuses to give Declan when he’s a no show at the party, but all the excused he come up with sounding either shitty, entitled or just a mess in general. So he convinces himself to get ready after a much needed shower, and remembers to pick up a bottle of tequila on his way to the address Declan texted him earlier that day. Considering the amount of cars parked in front of the apartment complex, Charles thinks whether it’s going to be a ‘small’ party as Declan put earlier, but he manages to find a place to park his car, nonetheless. Surprisingly, it’s not hard to find which apartment belongs to his new ‘friend’, as the people he seems to keep literally bumping into give him directions which lead him to the top floor – he thinks, like brother like sister, huh?

“Ah, bienvenu, Charles!” Declan greets him as he enters the apartment, filled with more people than he honestly expected; but hey, they are in Monte Carlo after all.

Because he was raised by his mother, Charles replies, “Merci de me recevoir,” but because he is Charles, he finds himself reverting easily to French. Of course, he soon realises that his new friend has no trouble understanding him.

“Of course, ma maison est ta maison.” With a wide smile that reaches his eyes, he takes the bottle Charles offer him and pats his shoulder in a friendly manner, “Good lad, let me put this in the kitchen and we’ll find my sister together. I suppose she’s here somewhere.”

Giving him a firm nod, Charles is suddenly left alone to gaze around the living area. He quickly realises that he’s not the only one who is particularly patriotic as he comes face to face with the Union Jack on the wall, proudly displayed on the wall, seems to tell a story of cultural connections and a home away from home. He’s also, somehow, met with a very eccentric group of people, who seem to be insistent on having him join their various conversation – which he does his best to partake in.

As he chats with a group of fellow partygoers, he notices Declan making his way through the crowd toward him. “Charles,” he says with an apologetic smile, “sorry for that, let’s go.”

As they move through the apartment, Charles catches glimpses of the décor, which can only be described as eclectic, but what he realises that Declan made sure to fill up his walls with all kinds of memories; from photographs of what Charles thinks is his family to his diplomas, to even famous artwork – he’s not sure whether the Warhol he just passed by is real or not, but he supposes it’s probably the first option. They arrive at a corner of the rooftop terrace where a cozy seating area is arranged. A few guests are engaged in animated discussions, while others lounge comfortably, enjoying the ambiance. However, it doesn’t take either him or Declan to realise that his sister is, in fact, not with the group.

Though, it doesn’t take the latter to spot his sister, mumbling with a wince under his breath, and when Charles follows Declan's gaze to find her engaged in a rather animated discussion with a man who looks both frustrated and slightly bewildered by her. “Poor guy.”

“Seems like she's keeping him entertained.” Charles offer, careful with his words, and also quite confused at the man’s reactions to whatever Declan’s sister seems to be saying.

“Eh, sisters.” Declan shrugs, and motions Charles to follow him.

As they approach their corner of the terrace, her voice becomes clearer, and Charles can overhear snippets of the conversation. “I just don’t understand why we can’t print more money,” she says in an airy voice.

The man she's speaking to rubs his temples, clearly grappling with how to respond. “Well, it's not that simple. Printing more money can lead to inflation and devalue the currency.” He takes a moment to think, then, “Think of it like shoes–”

“Okay,” Declan laughs nervously as he places himself between the two, turning to the other man with a kind smile, “I think we’re done here, mate, she’s playing you. She’s an econ major, sorry for that.” Though Charles can’t see the expression on her face, he imagines there’s some sort of a victorious smile as she waves the man away, “Stop emasculating my friends, please.”

“Well choose better friends, and I won’t,” she shrugs, following his brother’s movements as he makes his way back near Charles, she turns towards him as the white dress she’s wearing sways gently in the evening breeze. There’s a surprised look on her face when she realises and they are not alone, “Um, hi.”

With a playful grin, Declan points to Charles and turns to his sister, “This is Charles, your new neighbour, and Charles, this is my sister–”

Bambi.

It’s the only word that comes to Charles’ mind when he sees your eyes and a friendly smile you give to him, “Nice to meet you, Charles.”

His eyes fall down to your extended hand, and he scrambles to regain his composure, taking your hand and shaking it gently. “Uh, yes, nice to meet you too.”

With an unexpected clap from your brother, which has both you and Charles jumping slightly, you turn to him with a glare, “Well, now that you know each other, I’ll leave you to get acquainted. And you,” he points to you which elicits a raised eyebrow from you, “don’t scare him off, and for God’s sake change this music.”

“What’s wrong with ABBA?” You ask with a small pout already forming on your lips.

“We need a change,” Charles watches with a silent chuckle as Declan starts walking back towards the kitchen, “ergo, change it!”

“Well that was an interesting exit,” you mumble, eyes following your brother until he’s out of both your and Charles’ views. Afterwards, you turn your attention back to the man standing in front of you, “What do you think about The Smiths?”

“Who?” Charles asks you, confusion written on his face.

“Not The Who,” you nudge him slightly, chuckling softly, though your laughter dies down once you realise he’s really confused. “I– The Smiths, Charles! To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die,” you softly sing, but he replies with a small shake of his head, and a shrug. “Oh, I love The Smiths! Come on, you have a lot to learn.”

As you grab him by his wrist to guide him back inside the apartment, I might be in trouble, he thinks to himself. And then, you turn around to give him a full smile, with a glint of mischief in your eyes that he can't quite interpret, and say, “I can already feel that we are going to be very good friends.”

And then he knows, he’s definitely in trouble.

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fluff

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paddymoonstruck · 1 year ago

Text

DEAR READER | C.L16 (THREE)

Pairings: Charles Leclerc x Ferrari Intern!OC

Warnings: Google translated french, Complex relationship, resisting the urge to jump each other’s bones (jk 1/2)

Parts: one | two | three | four

Note: let me know if you want to be included in the tag list!

NATALIA VALLE WAS NOT a nobody. Or at least, that was what her father used to tell her. All her life, she endured loneliness from her inability to make and keep relationships. Perhaps it was a trait passed down through her family. She wasn’t quite sure. It took her a while to accept her predicament and as she was just beginning to embrace the path to nunnery, Susie Wolff appeared out of thin air.

The rest? Well, here it was. At North Holland, Netherlands. Circuit Zandvoort, to be more specific.

Natalia strode through the area, eyes subtly darting through the space. She tried her best to even out her breathing. Deep down she knew this wouldn’t be any different from the previous days.

Opening up her senses, she was greeted by the slowly increasing noises of screaming fans, colliding with the guide’s booming voice echoing out from the numerous speakers encircling the stands.

Her head began to feel a dull pounding sensation. If it was the jet lag, now would be the worst time for it to come barreling to her face.

Oh no—

“Natalia! Natalia!”

“Great. . .” She muttered. Her fingers gripped tightly at the colorful lanyards crumpled in her hands before mustering up her best smile at the reporter practically running to her.

Just like that, her peace was destroyed same as yesterday and the day before.

She met him half way, twitching at how careless he shoved that big ass mic he had to her face.

Lowering down the object, she kept her polite gaze.

“Wonderful to see you here, Natalia!” He exclaimed, baring a toothy grin at her.

“Yes, it’s great to finally attend other races, for sure.” She nodded.

Before he even speaks, Natalia grumbles internally. She knew the look he gave him. It’s one of those looks that reports tend to give her before they ask something that they think she’ll be okay with, only to come at her with a full blown pompous comment in an attempt to humiliate her.

“Daddy Toto’s paying extra, eh?” On contrary to his guffawing figure, Natalia stood unfazed, simply chuckling despite the burning desire to rip this man’s remaining hair out his old balding head.

“Ferrari, actually.” She quipped, watching the confusion etch onto his face as his laugh dies down.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m doing my internship in Ferrari,” She simpered at the him. “I’ll be graduating from university in a few months, you see.”

“I—I see!” Not surprising either that he’s got more up his agitating sleeve. “And what of Mercedes? Why did you not choose to work there?”

“I don’t choose,” She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. “This opportunity was given to me and I am extremely grateful. It’s an honor to be working for Ferrari.”

She visibly held her breath as a herd of voices invaded behind the interviewer. Blood rushed to her ears as she realized they were getting closer.

She confirmed her suspicion as she peaked through, spotting the the sea of journalists trying to get past the security line.

“Natalia!”

“NATALIA! WHERE’S TOTO?”

“Is it true that you moved in with the Wolffs’?”

“Natalia! A moment please!”

“What’s going with you and Charles Leclerc?”

“Nice meeting you!” She hurried, as she turned her attention back to the previous torn on her side, nodding politely. “I’m afraid I must be going now. Hope you enjoy the race!” She waved to the other raging journalists, squinting as their chants of her name got louder.

Sprinting away to the Ferrari paddock, she sighed. She pushed the glass doors open, breathing in the comforting scent of lavender. This quiet atmosphere instantly brightened her mood.

Elation spread to her lips at the sight the delectable food on the buffet table. Delight flamed through her eyes at the sight of the various selection of Dutch delicacies.

She scanned the table, quite fascinated with each of the names written on a signage corresponding to the food. Grabbing a small plate, she picked out a few, such as sphere-shaped snacks called Bitterballen and Krudnoten. A happy sway parked in her as she noticed a Stroopwafel truck outside, making a mental note to stop by later.

“Halo, linda!”

She whirled around, a plaesant smile blossoming on her lips as the man with the most gorgeous hair in the grid, as they say, approaches her.

“Carlos! Long time no see!” Natalia said, bringing him into a short hug.

“It is, indeed. I hear you work for Charles now,” He wiggles his eyebrows at her, chuckling as her smile quickly faded

“Not for him,” She denies, putting her palm up. “I’m working with h— yeah okay, I am.” Drooping in defeat, she glares at Carlos’ amused smirk.

“So?” He asks, as if expecting her to understand.

“So, what?” She raises her brows.

“Do you like it?” He asks. “Working for him, that is.”

She tilts her head, biting into one of the treats on her plate. “His social media presence is getting better because of me . . .” Pride swells in her smile. “And I get to boss him around too. I’d say it’s not as bad as I thought. More fans for him equals more money for me.”

Carlos chortles at the brunette’s blatant response to which she joins in, giving him a high five. Their laughter was interrupted by the clamor from the outside.

A simultaneous air of exasperation crossed their minds, briefly casting a glance at one another at the sight of the countless cameras pointing towards their direction, zeroing in on them like they were Sea World’s latest attraction.

They waved at the clicking cameras, building up practiced smiles.

“The only thing missing is a hoop for us to jump through,” Natalia joked, nearly flying away from the force of Carlos’ whack on her arm.

She concealed her laughter, gripping onto his bicep for mental support as Carlos failed to control the hideous snort coming out of his mouth.

To the people outside, Sea World bearing the most valuable and interesting creatures has took a turn to become a mental institute where, apparently, the patients were graciously yanking and hitting each other in the midst of terribly cloaked hysterics.

Heavy hands weighed in on the shoulders of said mental patients, each baring their own expression of terror as the turned their backs to the audience outside and onto Ferrari’s Team Principal.

“Enjoying ourselves, aren’t we?” Fred quizzed, narrowing his gaze as he watched the merriment slowly melt away from their faces. “Natalia, Charles is asking for you. He’s in his drivers lounge?”

Without thinking, Natalia grimaced at the order. “In his driver’s lounge? Why does he need me—” She clamped her mouth shut, giving into the cutting glare staring into her soul. “Driver’s lounge. Got it!” Spinning around, zooming into the hall of the drivers lounge.

“What do you think?” Charles query was accompanied by a smirk of plume as he finished his pitch.

His company stood frigid, mouth twitching with her eyes on him. “I— I don’t—” A string of laughter erupted from her, doubling over as she struggled to regulate air.

Charles eyed her wildly amused figure crumple onto the floor, a smile slipping onto his face at the cheery atmosphere of his room.

“Is that even— allowed?” She managed to get out, look up at him and wiping away the tear pebbling at ducks.

Charles raises his hands, smirking at her. “It was your idea first!” He accused, pointing a finger at her.

She scoffed, getting to her feet before sitting down on the small bed of the driver’s room. “It was a joke!”

“Well, it sounds good to me,” He shrugged, grabbing his gloves in a compartment at the foot of his bed.

“No it doesn’t!” Natalia laughed again, head throwing back at the seriousness of Charles’ tone. “I am not making a montage of you with Usher’s Daddy’s home playing in the background!”

Charles gasp, laying a hand on his chest, feigning offense as he looked at her. “Oh come on!”

“No, you come on!” She retorted, as laughter continued to spill out of her mouth.

Reached towards the giggling body on the bed, placing his gloved hands on her shoulders. “Why not?” He mocked a whine, watching as her smile reached her eyes.

Even with protective gear on his hands, the warmth of her skin somehow found a way to seep onto his palms. As if the heat had crawled up in his brain, he pushed against her shoulders, relishing at the surprised squeak tumbling out her mouth as her back hit the mattress.

Her eyes blown into a pair of saucers, swallowing noticeably at the weight of his stare.

“What are you doing?” The tremor in her voice sent delightful shivers down Charles’ ego.

He dug into the confinements of his restraint as her delicate palm laid on his chest. The feverish heat worsened as she made no effort to push him away, merely blinding him with those rich mahogany irises—pulling him into an endless stream of desire.

She looks at him as if she wanted her to know that he can’t have her. Boarded into place, backed into the corner with no where to go.

“Stop looking at me like that—” He whispers, baring a grit of his teeth.

Despite the constricting grip on her dazed state, Natalia responded, soft and lightheaded. “What?”

Exasperated, Charles dropped his head on her shoulder, not missing the slight flinch of her body as he inhaled the flowery scent of her clothing.

“You—” He started, breath fanning onto her ear as he lifted his head. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you want me . . . Natalia,”

“We— we can’t. . .” She stuttered as conflicting thoughts troubled her mind. At Charles’ groan of protest, she shuts her eyes, hoping to gain enough composure.

And when she does, she cleared her throat, warding off the trembling sound of uncertainty.

“You know we can’t,” At the height of her sense, Charles woke up from the root of his fantasies, nodding his.

“Yes. . .” He mumbled, laying her chest, arms going around her waist. “I know— I know— I just— how about this—”

“Charles—” She sighed, ready to decline him.

He silenced her, rushing to overpower her voice. “If I win today, I take you out to dinner—” Seeing as she was about to intrude, he raised his palm up. “Just dinner. Nothing more. Just you and me.”

Her stiffening posture exuded hesitation, prompting Charles to rub comforting circles with his thumb on her waist.

Anxiety skyrocketed in her veins, her arm draped on Charles’ back, palm splayed. Like a broken record, the imaginative image of the past kept flashing in between the cracks of her current reality.

Charles grew concerned as her breath labored, hand suddenly clasping at the fabric of his fireproofs as if he’ll disappear if she releases him.

“Hey,” Charles cooed, immediately brushing her hair back after nervousness completely taking over her features. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

His hand slid down to her cheek, stroking her paled skin, successfully catching her attention.

In a second, the withering blocks of emotion’s disappeared. In it’s place was a tired sigh, and a pat on Charles’ back.

He furrowed at the sudden change, and how quickly she threw away the deep seated thoughts troubling her mind.

“A lot.” She stated, licking her lips. “But if you insist, then — okay.”

The Monegasque stared at her, unblinkingly. Unsure what to make of the fast-paced situation.

He did want it. However, the droll in her voice withered the excitement he initially felt. Heaviness countered the supposed delight of his agenda.

It made him more curious and worried as to what had caused her to be that way. Natalia Valle was the embodiment of spilled sun rays when he first saw her interacting with the Toto Wolff in the Marcedes garage.

But looking at her now, all the bright twinkle in her eyes had been lost in a maze of darkness.

“Alright.” He assessed her disheveled state, slowly standing up. “I’ll see you after the race,”

Natalia managed a small smile, reaching her hand up for assistance. Charles took it, pulling her up into a sitting position. His hand tilted up her head, having her look him straight in the eyes.

“Do your best,” the glint of anticipation in her eyes were hard to ignore, as she took Charles’ wrist in a gentle hold.

They nearly jumped out of their skin as a loud knock echoed through the room.

“Charles! It’s time!” It was Nicolas.

The pair shared a look, Natalia baring a reassuring smile to Charles who gives her a thankful nod.

The realization of Natalia’s whereabout came crashing down in a high speed collision as the roaring of the engines resounded across the hall.

She was about to witness a Formula One race.

And even with the vicious claws of anxiety latching at her wits and thunderstorms forming clouds on her head, maybe—just maybe fulfilling her childhood dreams is enough to block everything out for just a moment.

The words; Lights out and away we go, seemed too long ago. The Ferrari garage bathed in chaos. Fred Vasseuer red faced, eyes wide with frustration coursing through his veins. Said veins could also be seen surfacing on the sides of his neck as he screams through his mic connected to the drivers’ ears.

On his feet, his hand slapped against the wooden table, creating a resounding bang that can be heard underneath the headphone-encapsulated ears of Natalia.

As one could tell, even from the stands, Ferrari was not having a great race.

“NO! NO!” Fred’s strident wail pierced Natalia’s ears, causing her to squint and move the left bud off her hearing premises.

She watched helplessly as the red Formula One car adorning the number 16 rounded the corner, before coming in contact with a bright orange McLaren.

Natalia’s heart felt like it would combust into a million pieces as it quickened at the sight of the collision. Through the fog of her aching head, she stepped forward to get a better view.

“Damage,” Dread filled her bones as the words came trembling. “I— think I have floor damage. . .”

Chills kissing at her fingertips, Natalia held them together close to her chest, seemingly like a silent prayer.

“Copy.” His engineer, Xavier Marcos Pardros responded. “Keep driving. We pit later.”

Silent pleas of betterment flooded Natalia’s brain as she watched Charles perform with a half-broken vehicle.

She wasn’t an expert on anything related to Formula One. No, however, she was aware that damages to the car commonly entails a bad omen which eventually leads to a retirement.

The tormenting suspense of what’s to come bit at Natalia’s sane conciliation, hands clutching at her sides. Her dilated eyes darted through the screen, focused on Charles’ car. His wheels were visibly wavering as the race dragged on. The extent of the damage slowly catching up to him.

“There’s no down force!” Natalia flinched at the strain in his voice.

A gloomy atmosphere manifested inside the garage as everyone received the words. The limit had been reached as the car was slowly losing its vivacious speed. He was deliberately losing control of the car and finally, as he turned, he drove directly onto a wall, a tire getting caught in the metallic borders of the track.

“You okay?” Xavi radioed.

“Yeah yeah—It’s a—sorry, guys—fuck. . .”

It was deafening, the silence. Only, excluding for the painful cries of self-loathing in resonating through Natalia’s headphones. She had to cover her eyes at the impact of the crash, as the pounding of her heart refused to settle down.

“Ah—fucking—FUCK!”

Natalia slid her headphones down to rest at her neck, hands shaking at the disappointment that echoed through Charles’ voice. She didn’t have the capacity to listen through the mournful anguish that flooded at her sympathy.

Without her headphones, she looked at the screen. A safety car has been deployed and the camera zoomed in on Charles climbing out the car. Frustration showing on his movements despite having a full body protective gear. He slammed his hands on the halo of his car as he stood up, before sliding his gloves off his hands, practically ripping them in the process.

“We focus on Sainz, now,” Fred droned, defeated as he molded back into his seat.

Charles couldn’t hear a thing aside from the organ protected by his ribcage pump at a merciless pace. His skin flushed underneath all the gear, as if it was weighing down his sanity further. His steps heavy as he strode to the Ferrari garage. A single thought crossing his mind.

There she sat, worry simmering at the pout of her lips, reflecting greatly with the dim clouding her eyes. As he neared her hunched form, she whipped around, gaping at him with an apologetic look on her face.

She was robbed of the chance to say something as he hauled her off her seat, strong grip on her arm. He dragged her with him, failing to take regard of Natalia’s worried glance at not only him, but most especially the pile of reporters crowding in front of the garage.

She tried to yank herself away from him but her strength was no match for his.

Xavi was quick to intervene just as they were out of the public eye.

“Charles!” He hissed, pulling at the angered Monegasque.

Natalia’s shock was as prominent as the tsunami of distaste cloaking Charles face. His brows pinned into a pointed stem, eyes shamelessly staring daggers and defeating Xavi’s own anger at the driver’s rash anger.

“Vous ne vous souciez pas de votre réputation?” Do you not care about your reputation? Xavi stressed, pushing at Charles’ chest as if to shake him back into rationality.

His loud scoff stabbed into Natalia’s hearing, causing her to wince. It differed entirely to whenever they were engaged in horseplay. The sweetened teasing was long gone, adamantly supplemented with bone-rattling fury.

“Ma réputation était foutue depuis longtemps!” My reputation was fucked long ago! He roared, retaliating with a hard shove of his own that sent Xavi propelling on the opposite wall.

“Charles!” Natalia shrieked, recovering from her frozen shock. “Calm the fuck down—” She went to check on the possibly injured man but the restraining grip on her arm contained her.

The protest died in her throat as the race engineer raised his hand, looking at her with reassuring ease. She was about to offer her more help but he simply upped and left like it was nothing.

Displeasure swam in her consciousness as Charles pulled her along with him to his room. He opened the door, urging her to sit down on her previous spot.

Like a controlled robotic figure, she complied. The energy to yell at him for his inappropriate behavior diminished as she came face to face with him.

Beneath the proper lighting, the marks left by his helmet scrawled lines onto his face. His tired eyes drooped in despair along with the noticeable sag of his shoulders as he arranged his racing gear.

Natalia observed he placed his helmet on the counter, fingers dragging on the shell, inducing a scrapping sound that matched his emotions.

He turned to face her, treading towards her in a slow manner. His knees hit the floor as he kneeled down to Natalia’s level.

Short puffs of breath lammed from her lungs at how little the expanse contained. She looked away, aware of the oddity in her stare.

“I didn’t win.”

The same disappointment lathered his tone but it was the arm he looped around her waist that caught her attention back to him.

She instantly wished she resisted the urge to look back as she was plowed down by his pleading crystalline orbs. Unable to tear her eyes from this hypnotic beauty, she wetted her chapped lips.

“That’s okay. . .” Natalia cringed at her weak assurance, but nonetheless weaved her fingers through his damp hair as if to compensate.

Charles flickered his eyes close as Natalia began to massage his scalp, the stress from the race draining away from his bones with every glide of her careful and dainty digits.

Natalia cocked her head to the side as Charles’ face relaxed, the lines on his forehead were no longer visible and his lips now rested into a soft smile.

“I’m sorry,” He grunted, tightening his grasp on her mid-section. “You’re gonna be all over the news.”

She bit her lips at the topic. Despite her awareness of the situation, she had completely ignored it, putting Charles’ ragging actions at a priority.

“They say things all the time,” She quipped, giving his brown locks a slight tug that got him to open his eyes and look into hers. The sincerity of his regret reflected in them. “At the very least, Toto being my alleged sugar daddy will finally stop. . .”

Charles knew that it was a prod to make him feel better, yet he took it without hesitation. His negative emotions were immediately dethroned at the sight of Natalia’s teasing smirk.

He bellowed out a hearty laugh, throwing his head back. “You’d rather have them think the engagement rumors are true?”

She screwed her face up, whacking him on the shoulder. “No, I’m just saying, it’d be nice if people stirred away from that repulsing narrative.”

“Maybe it’s ‘cause you looked like a hooker,”

Her jaw slacked, staring him down in the most disbelieving light she could ever imagine.

“Fuck off!” She giggled, stopping the vibration of his shoulders by landing a sportive punch near his chest.

A moment passes before Charles gains the courage to part Natalia’s denim-clad thighs, watching her reaction as he went further.

Seeing as there was no discomfort in her eyes, he slotted himself between the warmth of her legs, arms bracing his left arm beside her thigh while the other retained on her waist.

“I’m still on for that dinner, if you’re good to go. . .” Natalia wondered, tilting her head at him.

“Are you?” He hummed, drawing innocent patterns on the skin of her waist.

Goosebumps rose in the wake of Charles’ touch. He had risen the knitted top Natalia had worn, leaving the exposed skin at his mercy.

“It’s just dinner.” Her firm determination amused Charles, giving her a reassuring smile.

“It is.” He confirmed. “But I’d rather order in— I’m not up to be roasted in public after today.”

Natalia sympathized with his decision, squeezing his shoulder in the hopes to comfort him. “Of course, I understand.” She taps his cheek, pinching it softly between her finger.

Staying here would be the most logical option.

Her attempt to stand was quickly halted, as Charles’ arm on her waist pulled her back down.

A glint of confusion painted on both their features for different reasons.

“Where you going?”

“You said you wanted to order in.” She blinked owlishly at him, trying to figure out the miscommunication.

“I do.” He said, striking her with one of his compelling looks. “So, tell me what you want to eat,”

The wheeled dinged in Natalia’s bemused thoughts, nodding her head as she began to understand his implications.

“Oh—Oh! With me!” She amassed, as if assuring herself. At Charles’ validation, she started to think about her choice. “I’m not very good at picking specific food. I only look at the description and hope for the best, really.”

Charles smiled at her sheepish expression, bobbing his head in understanding. “Alright. I’ll order for you then.”

He got to his feet, shocking Natalia as he began unzipping his race suit.

She immediately looked away, face warming at the abrupt action. Shifting her gazing anywhere aside from the man appearing to be planning to undress in front of her.

Natalia swore she could hear the annoying smile growing on his lips as he said, “Relax I’m not taking my clothes off here. I still have to get an ice bath. We’ll go after.”

“Yeah— wait. . . Hold on, go where?” She questioned, raising her eyebrows.

Charles stalked to the door, laying his hand on the knob. His gaze lingered at Natalia’s, adoring the boiling thoughts evidently stowing in her eyes.

“Where else? At my apartment, of course.”

Oh— order in!

“You didn’t think we’d stay here all night, did you?”

Yes, she did. Embarrassingly so.

“Shut up, English isn’t my first language.” She grunted, hoping to save face.

Unsurprisingly, Charles crushed it as easily. Laughing at her futile attempt. “Mine too.”

She sighed, shooing him away. “Go jump in your ice water or whatever.”

Laughter rang through the halls as he opened the door, smile broadening at her crimson dusted cheeks.

He sent her a wink before leaving her to her own cluttered thoughts. She caught herself mapping out the possible scenarios that could take place in Charles’ apartment, weaving away from the inappropriate scenes flaunting in the premise of her own deliberations.

As she sunk herself deeper in the captivity of her brain, she fell short in noticing the coffin she had built herself into. Her abysmal empathy for Charles made her overlook the blaring details of her hesitance to join him for a meal— let alone be in his personal space.

Entering Charles’ apartment flared the consigned fear etched onto her senses. It wasn’t Charles that she feared. On the contrary she was afraid of compromising her self control more than anything else.

Lucky for her, the man in her thoughts share the same predicament as he sat rigidly in a tub of freezing water, plagued with similar impure thoughts running laps in his head. There was no doubt at all that Toto Wolff would castrate him alive and impale his head on a pike if he were to ever hear them.

Taglist: @charizznorizz @itsjustkhaos @janeholt3

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birdsong-goeson · 2 years ago

Text

Jealous Alejandro kidnaps Valeria's girlfriend to be interrogated by the 141 (2.3k words, part 2)

Summary: Valeria despairs when you don't answer her calls and immediately returns to her residence, only to find you gone. In the meantime, Graves presses you for information, and Alejandro starts to understand why Valeria hides you so well.

TW: mentions of cheating, toxic Valeria and very toxic Alejandro (OOC but I think it adds juicy drama, sorry for ruining him!). Mentions of death and violence. apologies for the imperfect Spanish, I've been using Google Translate! I titled this as 'Valeria's girlfriend' but I ended up writing them as kind of unofficially married. Link to part 1 Link to part 3 Link to A03

Valeria knew something was wrong when you didn't pick up the phone. In all your years together, she never had to call for you more than once, you were always at her beck and call. Her face turned to stone as the call went to voicemail, it felt like her heart stopped and then started again with fire and poison. In hindsight, she should have worried about your safety first, but unfortunately, her insecurities got the best of her. Anger seethed within her as she thought of all the ways you had betrayed her the moment she left you alone. Infidel! Her right-hand man Rafael was looking at you closely when she left, no? How could she be so blind as to trust you? Of course, you were jumping around with her men behind her back - you seemed all innocent and pure, but sure enough the viper within revealed itself and finally slithered out of her tight grasp. Immediately, she called Rafael to check up on the house, and when he also didn't pick up the phone, she cut her trip short and packed her bags. El Sin Nombre doesn't need to explain why she's leaving early! She commanded her business partners to figure it out amongst themselves as she went to her chopper and rushed home. Her hands shook as she navigated the helicopter, her mind unable to stop thinking of all the ways you were intertwined with Rafael on your marriage bed; desecrating your marriage vows. Of course this would happen. Why would fate let Valeria get away with the betrayal she'd inflicted on Alejandro? It was only right that her karmic debt would catch up with her.

It was as she was lowering her helicopter on the freshly cut grass of your home that she began to realise her devastating mistake. Doors were left open with the curtains billowing with the wind, broken glass from shattered windows littered the entryway and, worst of all, dried trails of blood lead a path from the house to the bushes. Her heart caught at her throat as her eyes roamed frantically from one catastrophic sign to the other. Guilt coiled around her stomach and she cursed her darkness for having doubted your loyalty when really, you were fighting for your life. "Mi esposa," Valeria whispered as rushed out of her helicopter, the blades still cutting the air as she ran indoors, not even bothering to be cautious of any enemies that could still be lurking within the shadows. She knew there were bodies dumped behind the green bushes that you so tenderly cared for, but she couldn't make herself check for you there. Part of her hoped you were smart and had the time to hide somewhere good, but she knew you were as helpless as a child when it came to things like this. You, who were so kind and good, left to fend for yourself. How could she possibly think you'd remain unharmed within this field of work? Valeria selfishly forced a divine light like you to live in the shadows with her, of course you'd get snuffed out eventually. If not by Valeria's own hand, her selfishness and greed, her need to possess and own you at all times, then by the selfish and greedy hands of others. All these thoughts rushed through her as she ran from one hallway to another, rushing to your part of the mansion. Memories of violence clung to your home like spiderwebs, she could see the struggle that ensued in the doors left open when you'd normally keep them closed. In the flower vase that you lovingly refilled every week that now lay on the floor shattered, shattered like her heart. The flowers lay on the floor, dying.

"Mi corazon...," she whimpered and came to a stop right before your bedroom door, one hand clutching her chest as she stood there, too afraid to step in and face your fate. She could only hear the wind catching on your curtains and the light humming of your electric blanket. She could already picture the catastrophe. You were in bed, lathering your lotions on, probably adjusting your night light because you were too afraid to sleep in the dark without Valeria next to you. You were all snuggled for bed, probably waiting for her call on the phone, when somebody came for you. "God, give me courage," she said as she stepped inside and lifted her eyes.

It was as if you evaporated into thin air. She saw the marks your body left on the bed where you lay on it and your phone was still there. Valeria's eyes scanned every inch of the space, no blood or other fluids were on any of the surfaces. You were either taken, or whatever happened to you happened elsewhere. All your belongings were still there. She didn't want to have false hope, so she willed herself to look at the bodies left by the bushes. She charged through the rest of the houses, taking note of all the mess. Her chopper was still on as she crossed the garden you tended to, the sweet smell of roses faintly covering the stench of blood lifting from the pile of bodies. Rafael was there, along with the rest of her men who manned the house in her absence. Treacherous relief washed through her because you were not there. This was the most devastating attack that Valeria had ever experienced in all her years and she could not think of anyone that hated her enough to do this. A rival cartel? Unlikely. They were violent criminals, sure, but they still kept a code of conduct amongst themselves. El Sin Nombre was the biggest competitor out there, no one was so stupid as to do this.

Valeria went to the security room and saw the CCTV footage. Her heart stopped when she saw an all-too-familiar figure invading her home. The tall, dark man cut through her men and made his way directly to where her wife lay. It's like he knew exactly where she was. "Alejandro?" Valeria's heart dropped as she watched Alejandro prepare to break the door and attack her wife, who was shrouded in a naive innocence where she could never comprehend the attack she was about to experience.

Angry tears threatened to spill from her glassy eyes as she saw Alejandro's hand grab you by the throat and drag you out of your marital bed. The same bed that you made love in every night, now permanently defiled with the way he violently dragged you out of it. Bruises from his fingers would have definitely formed on your soft skin by now, if you were still alive. Valeria watched on as Alejandro handcuffed her wife and pushed her through the hallways, saying something to her ear whilst parading her through the home she was supposed to be safe in. It was no coincidence that Alejandro stared directly at one of the cameras as he pushed her wife forward, looking directly at Valeria's eyes. This was no incidental operation; this was deliberate and malicious. More so, it was fucking personal. Yes, this was where Valeria ran her operation, but it was also the home you and her nested in so lovingly. And now it was trampled all over by men in uniforms, just like those fallen flowers. She forced herself to watch on as you were put in a helicopter and disappeared in the night sky.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "I hope you're ready to talk now, sweetheart." After a few hours of silence, the door to the container you were kept in opened, bringing in some rays of sunlight before shutting again. The American, whom you now knew was called Commander Graves, entered along with Alejandro. It had been many hours since your abduction, you had no way of telling how long exactly. But you were tired and restless, and cold. You thought they might move you to a cell at least, but they made no effort to transfer you out of the metal container. Too afraid to say anything when not spoken to, you sat still and waited. You wondered if Valeria had noticed your absence yet but even if she did, how could she find you? "I'm not sure what to tell you, sir." You remained polite hoping that courtesy would make up for your lack of talking. "Don't be like that, there's plenty to tell. How about we start with this little business trip of hers?" Graves circled around you, placing his hand on your shoulder before finally coming to a stop. " What'du hear about it?" Graves had many years of experience underneath his belt when it came to interrogation, especially the violent ones. And so did the 141. That was made very clear from the beginning. If this was any ordinary member of the cartel, they'd have buried them by now. But spouses were different; you hurt them and there'll be hell to pay. Even worse, there'll be no chance of making a deal with Valeria. "Like I said, I just know she went away for it, sir, that's all."

"Hm," he said and dropped his hand. He moved to stand right in front of you. "Well, you must know something. You know she's El Sin Nombre. You know she runs the biggest drug cartel in Latin America. You know she runs an international operation, you know she has friends in many places. What am I missing here?"

You looked up at him. "That's basically it, sir. It's a drug operation. But I don't know where it comes from, who her manufacturers are, or how she sells it. She doesn't deal with small details." Graves was starting to lose his patience, and not with her but with Alejandro. He couldn't understand why he insisted on extracting a housewife instead of the real deal. Here he was trying to gather intel on those Russian missiles with a trophy wife who hasn't had a day out of the kitchen, let alone discussions with the biggest terrorist organisation in the world. It was time to cut loose and make the call. "Hermano, take over for me will ya? I'll be right back." Graves walked away, wondering what General Sherperd will think of this whole situation.

You were alone with Alejandro now, who paced up and down the compound like a restless animal. You wondered to yourself how similar he was to Valeria, she had the exact same habit when she was stressed. They were very similar in temperament; too similar. Aggressive, hard-headed and dominant. Part of you gloated at the whole situation. Here was a Colonel of the Mexican Army, a well-decorated military man, wasting his time with you, someone quite irrelevant in the grand scheme of things, all because of- "Your wife," he said, disrupting your thoughts and you suddenly realised you were staring at him. "Is that correct?" He nodded at your ring finger. "Yes, sir," you replied timidly. He was exactly like Valeria, and it worked in your favour. You've spent so many years living with your partner that it was almost too easy to deal with people like her. People who could fill up a room with their presence; intimidating, powerful people who could hurt you badly. The sort of people who made the world go round. People, in other words, who could be domesticated.

Because violence and intimidation aren't the only ways to get what you want. Alejandro scoffed, "you've come a long way from that food stand, huh?" He looked at you with a faraway look in his eye, his mind having entered that shrouded area of the psyche where apparitions of the past hover, always eager to glide into the present in the form of memories. Your heart softened both at the memory he was referencing and because, at that moment, he seemed so pitifully sad, having lost himself in reminiscence.

Many years ago, you helped your Abuela run her restaurant in Las Almas, which stood very close to where the Mexican Army had its headquarters. Your Abuela was a genius in strategy and profited a lot from the laziness of soldiers who couldn't be bothered to cook for themselves but who also didn't want to eat whatever the Army served. And that's how you met Valeria, who was regularly sent by her teammates to fetch a group order. Valeria picked up the food because it was expected of her, an unfortunate burden of being one of the youngest women in her squad. But over time, she did it because it meant she got to see you. To everyone's surprise, when Valeria ran away to work for the cartel, that quiet girl in the small restaurant vanished too. "Alejandro." His eyes snapped back into yours. "Lo siento mucho. I really didn't know about you and Valeria. I am not that kind of person." You knew exactly what this was all about. Sure, they wanted to get El Sin Nombre and Valeria *was* the head of the biggest drug operation in the world. And she *has* made Las Almas dance to the rhythm of her tune for the past decade. But this was all just a big temper tantrum. And if you played your cards right, you could leave unscathed. You continued, "Whatever happens, I just wanted you to know that. I am truly sorry. I never meant to hurt anyone."

Something changed in his eyes. You could already picture what was about to happen. After your sincere self-flogging will come his pity, then the remorse. He might chuck you in a cell to show that he's treating you like the criminal collaborator that they all think you are, but soon enough he'll arrive bearing the fruits of forgiveness. Just like Valeria, you told yourself. Like moths to a flame. "Hm," he mumbled to himself, his eyes roaming all over you. "I get it now." He cocked his head to the side, "eres una cosa encantadora." At that moment, you felt a change in the air, something dark hovered between you two. It made you shiver.

"Tell me, Y/N. Have you ever been with a man?"

Hope you enjoy this part! Promised tags: @justmare @sleepiemain @caffeineliker @lesvii @silas-222 I'll bring Valeria and her partner together in part 3! I've also thought of a cute backstory for them that I want to get into :) also sorry for ruining Alejandro, i made him so toxic in this fic 😭

#call of duty valeria #cod imagine #valeria garza #valeria garza x female reader #valeria x female reader #valeria x reader #cod mw2 #cod valeria imagine

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