#we put that thing back where it came from or so help me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

formula-ghost · 3 days ago

Text

Read Your Diary (FC43 x fem!reader)

Chapter 5: Valentine (FINALE)

CHAPTER SUMMARY: The end of the 2024 F1 season brings regret and a newfound desire for reconciliation—but is your relationship with Franco beyond saving?

WORD COUNT: 13k

WARNINGS: Sadness. Angry Hispanic mother. Creepy men in bars (not Franco ofc). Drinking, drunk Franco is a media menace. Use of the word whore jokingly. Smut 18+ MINORS DNI. Hickeys, hair pulling. Dom Franco and sub reader, use of good girl, light choking, Oral (m receiving), p in v, protected sex (wrap it before you tap it!)

SERIES TAGLIST: @scopeiguess @storyteller-le @xivilivix @htpssgavi @wierdflowerpower @justsisse @uncreativetm @ncrsbrg @tillyt04 @amz824 @ellelabelle

A/N: My baby is now complete!! I did not plan for this to be the ending originally, but as I was writing it just kind of came about, and who am I to anger the writing Gods? Honestly, though, the beginning of this chapter destroyed me trying to find a way to redeem Franco. Fun fact, I very loosely based my depiction of Franco off of my real life ex, which explains why he is so horrible lmao (but unlike my real life ex, Franco has been redeemed!). I cannot express how grateful I am for everyone’s support throughout the writing of this story. More to come, but for now, enjoy!

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

All this love, I'm so choked up, I can feel you in my blood

All this lust for just one touch, I'm so scared to give you up

Valentine, my decline is so much better with you

Valentine, my decline, I'm always running' to you

Valentine, Valentine

The block button did nothing to assuage Franco’s obsession with you. In fact, it only made it worse.

If he hadn’t blocked you, he would at least know that you weren’t contacting him. But since he pressed the button, there was now the ever present question of if you had reached out, and if the digital barrier he erected had led it to be lost forever.

But why would you reach out after what he had done?

Truthfully, it took everything in you to not call him. You had both said things you didn’t mean—at least, you prayed that Franco didn’t mean them—and you wanted nothing more than to just make up and act like it never happened.

But the words kept echoing in your mind at night when you couldn’t sleep. You were a distraction.

All the years of supporting him, all the sacrifices you made—all for nothing.

You couldn’t help that you loved him. And the Franco you knew and loved didn’t mean those things. He couldn’t.

So you checked your phone’s international clock. It was still night where you were at home, but morning in Abu Dhabi, where he’d be completing his last F1 race tomorrow.

There was still time. If you called and made up now, you could be there for the final race. You could be there at the end, just like you had been there at all of his beginnings.

So you swallowed your pride, tapped on his name in your contacts, and pressed call. But it didn’t even ring before it hung up. You knew what that meant. He had blocked you.

At first you wanted to puke. You wanted to burst down the stairs of your apartment and run into the street screaming. You wanted to throw a bottle of wine on the walls and cry in the wreckage.

But after a few hours of getting all the crying out, a strange peace fell over you.

It was just… over. That was that.

In the morning, however, the grief came back from a familiar notification. His mother.

You had been putting off her messages ever since your argument with Franco. You couldn’t bear to tell her what had happened. But she was worried about you, evident by her increasingly concerned messages.

You finally gathered the courage to type up a response.

Hi Mami, you began—she had forbidden you to call her by her name, instead telling you to call her Mom—I tried to talk to Franco like you asked. It didn’t go well, and we both said a lot of hurtful things. It ended on bad terms and he ended up canceling all my passes and flights, and I think he blocked me. I’m sorry, I tried to get through to him. Thank you for all the kindness you’ve shown me over the years <3

You read over what you’d typed. It was honest. You could have spared her more of the details, but why? Franco would have to live with the consequences of his actions. That wasn’t your problem.

It was only a few moments later that she responded. Oh dear, I am so sorry. I am ashamed of Franco—that is not the son I raised. I hope you know we all love you, and I wish you all the best.

You liked her message and left it at that. But she called you later that night.

She began, “YN, words can’t describe how sorry I am. What happened?”

“I… I don’t know,” you began, carefully choosing your words. You weren’t quite sure how much you wanted to tell her. “He was already upset when I got there. He kept accusing me of lecturing him, but I was just trying to tell him I was worried. He said… that I was a distraction.”

“I can’t believe him! You have never been a distraction. You’ve been there for him when we couldn’t, we’ve always been so grateful for you.” Her admission nearly brought tears to your eyes. “I just… Dios Mio.”

The conversation was short, but vulnerable.

“YN, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“You had feelings for him, didn’t you?” She asked it as if it were a statement, rather than a question.

You were silent for a beat before answering. “I did. I… I do.”

“Oh, dear, I wish I was there to give you a hug.” You could feel the care in her voice, a soothing comfort. “I want you to know you’re always welcome here, no matter what my idiot son says.”

You chuckled, thanking her for her kindness before ending the call. You were truly grateful for her invitation, but you couldn’t imagine being in Argentina without Franco. The call had felt more like a farewell.

In Abu Dhabi, Franco was having his own farewells. It was bittersweet; he had worked so hard for so long to get here, but he couldn’t wait for it to be over. He was exhausted, mentally and physically. He just wanted to go home.

Home—the only place he felt like he had left. His Madrid apartment would feel empty without your laughter echoing in the halls. But back in Argentina, the people still loved him, and he could come back to a warm, home-cooked meal.

It was the only thing on his mind as he was forced to retire the car early, ending his last F1 race of 2024 with a DNF. But he didn’t care about that at all when he stepped off his flight from Abu Dhabi to Buenos Aires.

Unfortunately for him, what was waiting for him at home was not peace and a warm meal. It was a very angry Hispanic mother.

He came through the door, jet lagged, struggling with his luggage. She didn’t help him.

When his father and sister ran up to give him a hug and help him in, she didn’t move an inch. She just stayed in the kitchen, silently chopping vegetables with her recently sharpened knife.

After putting away his bags into his room, Franco made his way to the kitchen to greet his mother, who didn’t even look up from her cutting board.

“Hi Mami, I’m home,” he said tentatively.

“Welcome home,” she replied, no warmth in her voice.

“Aren’t you excited to see me?” he joked. He knew he was dodging landmines. He knew she had every right to be angry—he had gotten caught up in everything after Singapore, and after his controversy, he had been dodging her calls and texts, other than to arrange plans to come home for the holidays. Others may have gotten over their frustration, or chose to ignore it for the sake of the holidays. She was not that kind of woman.

“Oh, I’m thrilled,” she said, her voice flat. “Dinner is almost ready. Can you set the table for five, please?”

“Five? There’s only 4 of us.”

“Well, isn’t YN going to join us?” She already knew the answer. She just wanted to see him squirm as he answered it. He had nowhere to run anymore.

“Uh… no. Not this year.”

“And why would that be?”

“She’s, uh, busy.” His mother didn’t respond. He had to fill the awkward silence. “And she’s probably mad at me…”

She paused, holding the knife in an iron grip. She lifted it from the cutting board to point towards him. “And why would that be, Franco?”

“Mami…”

“Do not lie to me.” Her voice was cold as ice.

“Mami, it’s complicated. I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to enjoy the holidays and forget about this whole season.”

“I’m sure you do,” she concluded, not an ounce of sympathy in her voice. Franco sighed, getting down the plates to set the table for his family. But he stopped in his tracks when he turned and felt a slipper to the back of his head.

“Ah! What was that for?” The blow didn’t hurt anything but his ego.

“You know what you did,” his mother seethed. “You can’t run from this forever. Now get out of my kitchen.”

Franco obeyed, muttering under his breath.

“What was that?” his mother asked.

“Nothing!” he chirped, setting the plates on the table.

During dinner, it wasn’t any better. His father and sister, oblivious to his mother’s rage, chatted as if nothing had happened. They had been angry at his…questionable dating decisions, yes, but they clearly had let it go in the meantime and decided to just enjoy the time together as a family. His mother, however, had not.

And whenever anyone asked about it, she said she was fine. But she was clearly not fine.

As Franco took the dishes into the kitchen to help clean up after dinner, he sighed, knowing that his mother was right. He couldn’t go the entire holiday ignoring it—she would make sure of that.

He couldn’t sleep that night. The bed of his childhood home was warm and comforting, but he couldn’t relax under the weight of it all.

Maybe some fresh air would do him good. That’s what he reasoned when he slid open the back door and inhaled the cool night air. He sat cross legged on the back terrace, just taking in the sounds of the serene night.

That was, until he heard another person closing the door behind him. His mother.

“Not now, Mami,” he said, not even turning to look at her.

“I’m not going to chastise you.” She handed him a mug of something warm. For a moment they just sat next to each other, sipping their drinks in silence.

Franco began to speak unprompted. “YN has every right to be angry at me. I…ruined everything. I was so cruel to her.”

His mother just gave him a reassuring hum.

He continued, “She had feelings for me. I know I should have known it sooner, but I was in denial. But I had feelings for her too. And I got distracted. But it wasn’t her fault. I was so worried about my future that I ignored how she had always been there in my past.”

The mug in his hands trembled and his voice wavered. “She was always there for me. Every race, every win, every failure. She was always there.”

His mother reached for him, lovingly stroking his back as he confessed.

“She probably hates me now. I don’t blame her.” A tear fell into his mug. He turned to look at his mother, her expression far more sympathetic than it was at dinner. “Can I fix it?”

“I don’t know. But first of all, you owe her an apology.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t. Because if you did, you would have already done it.” He was silent. “It’s possible that she will forgive you. Or, she may not. You have to accept that.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

“Franco,” she began, “you did this. You have to suffer through the consequences of your actions. And if you are lucky enough that she forgives you and wants you back in your life, it’ll be a hell of a lot of work to regain her trust.”

He nodded. “I’ll do it. I’d do anything.”

“Then why haven’t you?”

He paused. “I’m scared. Scared that it really is beyond saving.”

“The longer you wait, the more likely that is to be true.”

This time, he actually knew what he needed to do.

Neither of you knew the parallels between you two; each of you pining for the other’s love, wanting nothing more than just to speak to the other. And when he unblocked you and called, it was like the stars aligned.

You didn’t answer.

He didn’t panic at first. It was close to the holidays, in the middle of the day in your timezone. Maybe you were with your family.

But as one missed call turned to two, and days of no contact turned to weeks, Franco began to know the bitter taste of his own medicine.

You had seen him call. And yes, you were with your family at the time. You told yourself that was the main reason why you hadn’t answered. As if seeing his contact on your phone didn’t shatter your heart into a million pieces.

But later that night, when you were finally alone, you couldn’t bring yourself to call him back. He hadn’t left any voicemail or text, just his name and a missed call icon.

What would you even say to him? He knew you were angry. And you knew you couldn’t just act as if nothing happened.

So despite your desperation to speak to him again, you just let his calls keep coming and coming over the weeks.

A dark part of you enjoyed having his attention. You waited to see his icon pop up, just to let the call go to voicemail. It made you feel wanted again.

And you were wanted. When he tried to sleep at night, he wanted you. When he talked with his manager about future plans for the next season—back down to F2—he wanted you.

Both of you knew it was a delicate balance. He couldn’t keep calling forever. At some point you’d have to answer, or he’d have to stop. But you loved the dark thrill of pushing it.

And this continued for weeks.

The calls lessened as the F2 season began. Franco was back at work. You had finally let go of the need to watch his races.

But there was another contact you hadn’t ignored: Lily.

She called you out of the blue one day. “YN! I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

The last time you saw her—it must have been Austin—felt like years ago.

“Yeah, it’s been a while,” you replied.

“Do you… wanna talk about how you’ve been?” It was late January now. You had spent the weeks just passing time, lost, but somehow also at peace with all of it.

“Um… not if you don’t want to ruin your day,” you joked. Humor was a good coping mechanism, you had learned. You’d grown tired of explaining to people why Franco was no longer in your life. You had once been so intertwined, and now, nothing. You were thankful that she didn’t press further.

“Well, we should go out,” she suggested. “I know a great new club in Madrid, and Rebecca and I will be there the weekend before Valentine’s Day.”

Valentine’s Day. The bane of your fucking existence. Worst holiday ever.

But you had spent Christmas in a daze, and New Years alone. You didn’t know if you could do another holiday like that, so acutely aware of Franco’s absence. So you agreed.

But Lily’s phone call wasn’t as out of the blue as you had thought.

One thing about Franco was that he was determined. If he wanted something, he was going to get it. So yes, he called and called and called and let all his calls be missed.

He couldn’t just text you or leave a voicemail. What he needed to say was too important. He needed to see you.

So he called up the only other woman he knew besides you and his own mother: Lily.

He pitched the idea simply. He just needed her to arrange something where you and him would meet. Lily was skeptical.

“Franco, you know when a woman isn’t answering your calls, it’s usually because she doesn’t want to talk to you, right?”

“I know,” he signed. “I know she’s pissed at me. She has every right to be. I just want to apologize to her.”

“Then why not, like, send her a letter or something? Trying to organize an event where she’s forced to see you is kind of…creepy.”

Deep down, he knew Lily was right. “It’s not like that, though. I just need to see her, say it to her face. If she gets angry and never wants to see me again, I’ll respect her wishes. But I love her too much to not try.”

Lily was a hopeless romantic if nothing else. And Franco was charismatic and too smooth to deny with his one-liners.

So she agreed. Besides, she knew you needed a girls night.

And you realized it too when Rebecca and Lily came over to your apartment to get ready a few weeks later.

You vented to them as they helped you apply your eyeliner and zip up your dress—yes, THAT dress—about how hard the past few weeks had been.

“And then,” you explained, as Rebecca dusted a brush along your cheekbones, “he told me that I didn’t need to be there! As if he wasn’t the one who begged me to go!”

Rebecca made a sour expression. “Girl,” she said, “Good riddance to him.”

When you looked at yourself in the mirror, you nearly gasped. You looked fucking amazing.

Yes, you were wearing that dress that always reminded you of him—his favorite color, bought while on vacation to see his family. But if he couldn’t see your beauty, someone else would. And right now, that someone was Lily, as she snapped photos of you all before you left for the club and posted them on her story.

As you entered the club, you felt the bass in your bones. Yes, this was exactly what you needed.

You drank. You danced. You felt the eyes of tipsy men on you.. And for a while, all your troubles faded away.

You approached the bar for your second drink of the night. A man walked next to you, presumably to order his own drink. You recognized him as someone you’d danced with earlier.

“You look great tonight,” he said, eyeing you up and down. His tone was too sleazy for your liking.

“Thanks,” you said, hoping a short response would end the exchange so you could get your drink and make your way back to Lily and Rebecca, who were waiting for you in a booth.

“D’you always dance like that?”

“Like what?”

He smirked. “You’re cute when you play dumb like that.”

You genuinely had no idea what the man was going on about. “Sorry, I need to get back to my friends.”

You turned to leave, but the man grabbed your arm. “Don’t you need to get your drink? Stay a minute.”

You grimaced, but a surge of anxiety kept you frozen to your spot. You turned your glaze to the floor, silently beginning for an out.

“So, what’s your name?”

“Uh…” You were unable to answer. You feigned ignorance. “Sorry, it’s loud in here, I can’t hear you.”

“Oh, it doesn’t matter. I don’t need to know your name to take you home tonight.”

“What?” You wanted to puke.

The man started to reach his arm out toward your waist. You stepped back and bumped into someone. You cursed your own awkwardness. When you turned to apologize, you saw a familiar face.

Franco. Fuck. You felt your stomach drop.

“You know this guy?” The man behind you asked.

“She does,” Franco answered for you. You were grateful—you were unable to speak, choked with anxiety.

“You let your girl act like that?”

“Fuck off, mate.”

The man took the hint and shrugged, taking his drink and disappearing into the crowd.

Your eyes were still glued to the floor. “Thank you,” you said.

“Don’t thank me,” he said, “it’s the least I could do.”

The bartender handed you your drink. Part of you just wanted to go back to Lily and Rebecca and act like all of this never happened. But by the look of Franco’s face, one of grave seriousness, you knew it wouldn’t be that easy.

But the other part of you was thankful. Thankful that Franco had saved you from that creep, yes, but also thankful that the stars had aligned to bring you and your best friend back together. What were the odds?

Wait. Maybe the stars hadn’t aligned.

“Franco, what are you doing here?”

Now it was him who looked to the floor in embarrassment. “Lily told me you were here. I asked her to help me talk to you.”

“So you… arranged to find me in a club, because I wasn’t answering your calls?”

Franco may be Latino, but he sure had the audacity of a white man.

“When you put it like that, it sounds bad…”

You rolled your eyes and walked away. He followed you through the crowd.

“YN, wait! Why won't you answer my calls?”

“Because I have nothing to say to you.” That wasn’t true. You actually had a lot to say, you were just too afraid to say it.

“Okay, I get it. I fucked up. But will you just listen to me? Please?”

You just kept walking.

“YN! Please!” You had nearly reached the booths, and he was still following you. You just kept ignoring him.

“YN—” You slammed down your drink on the table, startling Lily and Rebecca. When Franco came into view behind you, they exchanged knowing glances.

You turned around to face him. “Are you really begging?” you whispered in a hushed tone.

“Yes,” he said, his voice equally low.

Lily got out of the booth, standing next to you. “What’s the harm in just hearing him out?” she said, low enough that he wouldn’t be able to hear her over the thumping bass.

You swallowed. The harm? You would fall for him again. And he would hurt you again and again. You’d lose him again. A never ending cycle of pain.

But his pleading expression in front of you was too much to bear. You couldn’t say no to the man you still loved.

“Let’s get some air, hm?” he said, and you nodded, silently following him back to the crowd. He led you to a staircase where a bouncer nodded and silently let the both of you pass.

The staircase led to the roof of the club, with a beautiful view of the city. The space was clearly set up for patrons to enjoy, but there wasn’t a soul there besides you and Franco.

The view took your breath away. You had seen so much beauty when you had traveled the world with Franco for his races, but this was home, and he was warm next to you as he snaked his arm around your waist, silently taking in the sight next to you.

You relaxed into the touch. For a moment, you just let everything fade away into the peaceful scene.

But as you smelled Franco’s familiar cologne and relished the feeling of his touch, you couldn’t help the anxiety that rose in your throat. It felt like it was choking you. You moved forward, forcing his arm away, and leaned against the railing on the edge of the rooftop.

“Say what you have to say,” you said plainly.

“I want to apologize.” His opening sentence was simple, yet powerful. “YN, I was horrible to you. I lied and I betrayed your trust. I blamed all my problems on you, when you were the only one who was ever there for me.”

You watched the cars on the road below, like ants in a colony.

He continued, “And you were right, about everything.”

The silence in the air was thick.

Your voice was shaking when you began. “Franco, you made me feel like I was insane. You… you accused me of using you. You called me a distraction. You said I was disgusting. You uninvited me from the last races and you blocked me.”

“You tried to call?”

“Of course I did.” The tears in your eyes threatened to mess up your mascara that Rebecca had so carefully applied. “I tried to call you before Abu Dhabi. I wanted to forgive you and be there for your last race.”

“Shit, YN… I’m so fucking sorry.”

“I don’t know if I can forgive you now.”

It was him, now, who had eyes full of tears. “YN, I…I love you. I can’t lose you. I know I hurt you, and it kills me. But I miss my best friend. My friend who skipped prom to come to a race. My friend who helped me dry my clothes after she found me trying to use an oven to do it. My friend who is the only one that really gets my sense of humor.”

You finally broke down at his confession. He reached out to hold you.

“Don’t cry,” he whispered. “I’m here. It’s gonna be okay.”

He let you cry it out, before pulling back and looking at you. He gently used the pad of his thumb to wipe away your tears and fix your smeared makeup.

“I can’t ask for everything to go back to normal,” he said, looking you in the eyes. His eyes were teary, too. “I know I can’t. I did things that are beyond awful. But I promise you that if you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I’ll do whatever I can to regain your trust. You’re too important to me.”

All you could do was bury yourself in his chest. He wasn’t expecting the sudden gesture, but he slotted his arms around you like they always belonged there. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. You don’t know how long you stood there, warm in his embrace. You could have stayed there for years.

You were brought out of the perfect scene by the sound of a notification on your phone. You broke the hug after a moment to check it. A text from Lily: everything okay?

You chuckled. “I think Lily is worried about us.”

“Well,” he asked, “is everything okay?”

He wanted an answer. You didn’t know if you could say it.

But is this not what your entire journey had been leading up to? You had begun writing in your journal to communicate what you feel. And now, you had no choice.

You were strong. You had changed.

“I want to forgive you,” you said. “But it won’t be easy. It’ll take time.”

“I have all the time in the world.”

“And I can’t promise that I won’t be scared or insecure.”

“Whatever you need, I’ll do. I’ll listen, I’ll show you—”

“Franco.” You cut him off. “I know. I love you.”

You couldn’t name the expression on his face. Like relief. Or love.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

You were scared of what door that would open, of how much you truly wanted him to. So you didn’t speak. You just reached up to caress his cheek and tell him with your actions.

Your lips met his, and all the sorrow melted away. You could feel the vibrations of the club under your feet, the gentle pumping of blood through his veins, faster now that he could touch you. He pulled you in by the waist, and you brought your other hand to the back of his neck, making the space between you infinitesimally small.

But you pulled away before he could deepen the kiss. You couldn’t rush it, no matter how badly you wanted it.

When you opened your eyes, he had that expression you had grown to yearn for; it gave away how badly he needed more of you. You could feel a blush rise to your cheeks at the thought of his wanting.

“We should go back down before Lily gets too worried,” you said. He smiled and nodded, but as his expression of desire faded away, you saw the familiar signs of anxiety. He didn’t know how far to push, how comfortable to act.

You grabbed his hand. “And then, you should dance with me.”

His tentative smile grew more relaxed. “Of course.”

Turns out, there’s nothing an honest conversation and a little alcohol couldn’t fix. And in the aftermath of the former, you definitely indulged in the latter—maybe a little too much.

You went downstairs to retrieve your drink that Lily and Rebecca had so kindly watched for you. It was a little watered down from the ice melting, but it would do the trick.

Rebecca helped you fix your makeup as Lily glared at Franco for making you cry. He knew he’d have work to do to earn back their trust, too, but he was more than willing.

So when you were ready, he wasted no time taking you out to the dancefloor to give you the night of your life.

The only problem was that Franco was not a frequent club goer, and therefore unable to handle his liquor. And you all had a lot to drink that night.

You finally cut him off when he threatened to get on the table and start stripping.

“Oh, Lord, Franco, I’m cutting you off, you’ve had too much to drink,” you slurred. You were tipsy yourself, in no state to talk, but at least you were committed to staying clothed for the night.

“What are you gonna do? Fuck me about it?” he joked, sticking his tongue out playfully.

You don’t know if the blush on your face was from the drinks or his taunting. But God, even when he was wasted, he looked so good. As the night had progressed, he had become more disheveled, his shirt buttons coming undone to expose his toned chest and a sheen of sweat from all the dancing. He leaned over, running a hand along your cheek. “Bet you would want that, wouldn’t you?”

“Okay, time to get you home!” you told him. Lily and Rebecca had left a bit earlier, satisfied that their mission was accomplished.

You got up and tried to corral your drunk friend out of the club. He didn't want to cooperate, though.

“No, YN, I don’t want to go home! I missed you, dance with me!” He reached out to grab your waist, his hands wandering up and down your body.

“Franco, you’re drunk,” you said, moving out of his grip. “I’m calling an Uber and getting you home.”

It’s not like his touch was unwelcome. But you were in public and he was inebriated, unable to consent to what he was actually doing. You knew it was time to go.

You finally dragged him outside as you waited for the Uber on the corner. You hoped the cool night air would sober him up a bit.

“Have I told you that you look fucking gorgeous tonight?” he slurred. You ignored him as you watched the little car icon drive closer and closer.

“I always loved that dress on you,” he continued, “but it’d look better off of you.”

“Our Uber is here!” you said through your blush.

But even in the Uber, he was relentless.

“I missed youuuuu” he cooed in your ear.

“I missed you too, but could you not be a whore for 5 minutes?” you laughed. You hoped the humor would distract him. He lowered his voice to a husky whisper.

“But YNNNNN, I want you so fucking badly. Every part of you, even the parts that you’re ashamed of—fuck, especially those parts. I want to know the version of you that you’re scared to be. I want you to use me like a toy to get what you want. And when I read what you wrote I was… fuck, I couldn’t stop myself. Every day I’d read it and touch myself and wish it was you. God, I just need to fuck you so badly—“ he practically moaned in your ear as his hand again reached to your waist.

You grabbed him by the wrist, stopping him in his tracks. His doe eyes looked up at you, deceptively innocent, hiding behind them the true depths of his lust.

You moved his hand away and let go. He was silent and still.

“Franco, you are drunk. I am going to get you home and you are going to get some rest.”

“I know you’re mad at me. You should be, I’m a fucking idiot,” he slurred. “But you can take it out on me, on my body—“

“Franco! We are in public,” you hissed through gritted teeth.

“Is being horny a crime? You can arrest me, put me in restraints—”

The Uber pulled up in front of your apartment and you wasted no time getting Franco out of the car and up the stairs. You made sure to tip the driver well.

Franco didn’t even let up as he collapsed on your bed, dizzy from stumbling up the stairs and into your apartment. He grabbed you, pulling you back to the bed, burying his face in your hair.

“You smell so good,” he muttered. You wrestled free from his grip, throwing a pillow back at him playfully.

“I am not going to fuck you when you’re this drunk. Get changed and go to sleep.”

He pouted, but complied, undressing agonizingly slowly behind you. You had turned away to give him privacy, but your mind wandered as you heard the shuffling of his clothes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he apologized, still behind you.

“You didn’t,” you said, and it was true; you loved that he wanted you, just…not in that setting. “Just sleep it off. I’ll take the couch.”

“No, come here,” he said, patting the side of the bed. You turned and jumped, seeing that instead of changing into the pair of old pajamas that he had left at your place many months ago that you had laid out for him, he had just stripped down to his underwear.

“Absolutely not,” you said, your face turning a bright red. “Put some clothes on.”

“But it’s hot in here!”

“Then I’ll take the couch.”

“YN just snuggle with me—”

You cut him off by closing the bedroom door.

A few hours later, you were convinced that you had the world’s most uncomfortable couch. You couldn’t sleep a bit.

You filled the hours by scrolling on your phone. The F1 gossip pages were calling your name.

The reappearance of YN! The former friend (and suspected ex girlfriend) of Williams reserve driver Franco Colapinto was featured in a post from a nightclub in Madrid with current Williams wags Lily Muni He and Rebecca Donaldson. Several attendees also caught videos of her dancing with a mysterious man that is definitely not Franco. YN hasn’t been publicly seen since the 2024 Brazilian Grand Prix, which fans assume has something to do with Franco’s fling with a controversial Argentine actress.

Above the caption was a slideshow: the pictures of you, Lily, and Rebecca on the first slide, and the next being a video of you dancing with the creep. You cringed at the memory.

The top comment made you chuckle: I can’t believe Franco fumbled his 2025 seat AND a baddie.

You scrolled to the next post.

Former F1 driver for Williams, Franco Colapinto, spotted in a nightclub in Madrid getting very handsy with best friend YN!

The two have not been seen together since the Brazilian Grand Prix in 2024. At the time, fans speculated that the two were dating, but sources close to the driver reported that a falling out regarding Franco’s dating controversies during the season led him to cancel her VIP pass for the last triple header.

But luckily for Franco x YN shippers, the pair seem to be quite comfortable with each other again. Do you think they’ll make it official soon? Comment your opinion below!

Fuck. Someone had gotten a video of you trying to get Franco out of the club, and without context, it looked bad.

You were pushing him off of you, yes, but not because you didn’t want his touch. You were just afraid of this exact scenario happening. You prayed a silent apology for his manager.

Your scrolling was interrupted by the sound of Franco waking up and stumbling into your kitchen for a glass of water. Even with only a few hours of rest, he had slept off the drunkenness, but was left with a horrific hangover.

You probably should have just pretended to be asleep until he went back to bed. But, against your better judgement, you got up to meet him at your kitchen counter.

He still hadn’t put any clothes on. Typical.

“You alive there?” you joked.

He downed his entire glass of water. “Barely,” he grimaced. “Worth it, though.”

You gave him a half smile. “You’re probably gonna have a million notifications from your manager. I tried my best.” You handed him your phone to watch the video.

“Jesus, that’s how I looked? I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t mind. But it’s a good thing that you probably don’t remember what you said.”

“Oh no, I remember.” You blushed. “And I don’t regret a word. I meant everything I said.”

“Franco, when we were in the Uber, you said I could use your body as a toy.” You cringed as you repeated his words back to him.

“I know. Offer still stands.”

“Franco…”

“YN, be honest with me. If I was sober, and we were alone, what would you have done?”

You swallowed. He was sober. You were alone.

He saw the thoughts cross your eyes. He broke the space between you walking to the other side of the counter. He pulled you in by the waist until all that separated you was the thin fabric of your pajamas and his underwear.

The breath had been taken from you. “Talk to me,” he said. You couldn’t. The anxiety choked you. “YN, I’m tired of pretending like I don’t want you.”

“Don’t do this to me, Franco,” you pleaded. “I want this but … we shouldn’t.” You looked away. You couldn’t handle the intensity of his gaze

“Why not?”

“Because… we just made up. I don’t want to lose you again.”

“You won’t. I’m here to stay. Trust me. If I promise that everything will be okay, will you trust me?”

You paused. “… I can’t. I don’t trust you. Not yet, at least.”

You had to be honest with him, but it broke your heart to say those words. You didn't know yet if he was genuine, or if his fling with the actress hadn't worked out and he was using you as a placeholder. The thought made you want to puke.

He loosened his grip on you. Your words felt like a thousand knives going through his chest, but he knew he was going to have to face the very real consequences of his actions.

“I understand,” he said. “Just let me hold you. I know my words don’t mean much anymore. But I promise I’ll do everything in my power to earn back your trust, and I mean it.”

He buried his face in your hair. “Come back to bed with me.” You knew the request was innocent, so you allowed it, snuggling up into his warm chest and falling asleep as the sun began to peak in the sky outside. “I’m letting go of you. Never again,” he murmured. Both of you knew that it wasn't about the sex, or about how right you felt curled up next to him. It was something deeper, more intimate, than the bare skin that he now innocently wrapped his arm around.

When you woke up, for a moment, you thought you had dreamed the whole thing. But the soothing sound of Franco’s soft snoring proved you wrong.

Over breakfast, you laid out boundaries. You both needed to take things slowly, build up the trust that had been lost.

But when you woke up a week later on Valentine’s Day to a bouquet of pink roses on your nightstand, you couldn’t help but blush darker than the petals, remembering the reference from your diary.

Franco had planned to take you out, and of course, you wore his favorite dress.

The night was perfect—a little too perfect. In the back of your mind, you couldn’t help remembering the salacious ending to that diary entry, replaying the fantasy over and over in your mind. But as he took you home for the night, Franco was ever the gentleman, perfectly keeping his hands to himself.

The longer you looked at him, the more you wanted him to touch you.

You had only made it to your apartment for a few seconds when the sight of Franco taking off his suit jacket was too much to bear. You grabbed him by the collar, pulling him into a frantic kiss.

He wasn’t complaining, of course.

He took your actions as a sign, gently pushing you into the wall behind you until you were pinned. His lips never left yours, instead deepening the connection, tongues exploring each other’s mouths.

When you did come up for air, there was a faint hint of your lipstick on him. He chuckled. “Mi amor, what was that?” he teased, stroking your cheek and he looked down on you. He rested his arm above your head, leaning his body into yours. You could feel both of your chests breathing heavily with a growing desire.

“I wanted you.”

“I thought you wanted to wait?” He was right. You didn’t want to rush into physical things so early. Franco had been nothing but respectful and apologetic all week, but still, only those few days had passed.

“...Yeah,” you said. You were frustrated at him. For being so fucking attractive. For making you want him so badly.

“It’s alright, hermosa,” he teased, “I’m sorry that I’m so irresistible.” Only a week since you all had made up, and he was already back to reading your thoughts.

“Oh, hush.”

In the following weeks, Franco’s return to racing made resisting him a lot easier. He had asked you to come to a few races, but you had declined. The memories of his time in F1 were too fresh, the wounds not quite sealed. Besides, you didn’t want to be seen in public with him just yet. You hadn’t exactly made your relationship official—though neither of you were talking to other people—and you were anxious for the public eye to be on you again.

That was, until Franco got a very exciting phone call.

Carlos Sainz had gotten in a minor biking accident—nothing major, just a sprained wrist, but enough that he needed to take a week off to heal—so Franco would be back in his car.

When he asked you to return to the F1 paddock with him, this time, you couldn’t refuse.

So that’s how you found yourself in a hotel room with your best friend (and now sort-of boyfriend).

Before bed on Wednesday night, after a long day of meetings, he wanted nothing more than to come back to the hotel and lay in your arms. And that’s exactly what he did.

You absentmindedly ran your fingers through his hair. “You nervous for tomorrow?” you asked.

“No,” he answered truthfully, “not one bit.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I mean, I have nothing to lose. Nothing could be worse than the end of last season.”

“Franco, don’t say that.”

“It’s true, though.” He chuckled. “I can’t fuck up any worse than I already did. For a while there, I lost everything.”

You stopped playing with his hair to crane your neck down and kiss the top of his head. “Well, I’m not going anywhere,” you said.

He sat up, looking you dead in the eyes, his expression as serious as it could get.

“I love you.”

You were taken aback for a moment. You had both said it back in February when you confessed, but it was different now; more real, vulnerable.

“I love you too.”

“I want you to be mine.” His gaze traced the line from your lips to your eyes, finally meeting you where you couldn’t look away.

“I already am.”

“Then I’m yours, too. And I want the world to know it.”

You finally broke the stare, looking down at the comforter. “I’m nervous about what people will say.”

“YN, who gives a fuck what they say? They’re not here. They don’t know us.” You knew, deep down, that he was right, but that did nothing to temper your anxiety.

Franco playfully grabbed you and pulled you to sit on his lap. You let out a yelp that dissolved into laughter as you saw the smile on his face.

“I don’t care what anyone says. You’re my girl, yeah?”

You smiled too. “Yeah.”

“And I'm yours. You wanna prove it?” he teased, pulling down the collar of his shirt, exposing his neck. “Show them all what’s yours, hm?”

“Franco,” you said, blushing, “everyone will see.”

“That’s the point, mi amor.”

“Your manager will kill me if you show up to media day covered in hickeys.”

“I’ll cover them up.” You knew better. He absolutely would not cover them up. He’d wear them like a badge of honor.

But Franco’s refusal to be media trained was one of the many qualities you loved about him.

“Come on, you know you want to,” he teased. He was right. Right now you wanted nothing more than to cover him in love bites, claiming him as yours.

But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he could read you so well.

“Oh, hush,” you said, grabbing his chin to bring him into another drawn out kiss.

You trailed the kiss down to his neck, finally giving in to his request. Yes, he was yours. And now the world would see it.

You relentlessly nipped at the rough skin, enjoying the soft but labored breaths that came from Franco. You kissed his earlobes, his jaw, his collarbones, until you found that perfect spot on his neck. He gasped when your teeth met his skin, softly moaning when you gently sunk your teeth in and sucked to leave a bright red mark.

You pulled away, and his expression was one of deep wanting. Sitting on his lap, you could feel him hardening under you, desperate for whatever he could get of you.

You rested your hands on the hem of his shirt. “This is getting in my way,” you complained.

He wasted no time in taking it off.

He slid his hands under your shirt too, drawing you closer to him, burying his face in your neck and smothering it with kisses. You gently grinded down on him, giving both of you the friction you so desperately needed.

But you didn’t want to be the focus of the night. You took back control, running your hands through his hair and roughly pulling it, forcing his head back.

His doe eyes on you were full of lust. He paused for a moment.

“Sorry, was that too much?” you whispered, embarrassment beginning to flush your face bright pink.

“Oh no, I..” he panted, “I liked that a lot.”

You smiled, and went right back to your attack on his skin. He ran his hands up and down your back underneath your shirt, teasing with the clasp of your bra.

You felt his phone buzz in his pocket. You both ignored it.

“YN…” he exhaled, a breathy moan. You pulled back, seeing the red flush on his face. You could feel his excitement beneath you.

“Can I take this off?” he asked, his hands tugging at your top.

You weren’t quite sure what to answer. You figured that you’d sit down and talk before your first time. You all hadn’t gone beyond heavy kissing—Franco had been respectful of your desire to wait. But it had been months now, and he’d gone above and beyond to prove that you could trust him.

His phone buzzed again. And again, you both ignored it.

“You don’t have to if you’re nervous,” he said. “We only go as far as you want.”

You nodded, silently giving him permission. He leaned in to softly press one last kiss to your lips before moving to pull off your top.

Only for his phone to ring, ruining the moment.

Your shirt remained on as he fumbled to get his phone out of his pocket and turn it off. But the caller was James Vowels.

You both saw the contact info and knew that the mood had been ruined.

“I’m sorry, amor, I have to take this—” he apologized as you climbed off of his lap and he answered the call.

As he spoke, you took a deep breath, trying to process what had just happened, and what was about to happen before you had been cockblocked by the William’s team principal.

After only a minute he hung up the call, continuing to apologize. “I’m so sorry, they need me right now.” His voice was full of urgency.

“It’s okay, go,” you assured him, your tone genuine. He placed a chaste kiss on your cheek before grabbing a Williams quarter zip from the floor to cover up the darkening marks on his neck.

He raced down to the hotel conference room, hoping that his…little problem would not be visible in what had sounded like a very important meeting. The tone in James’ voice had been one of immediacy, and Franco had no idea what to expect.

And when he finally made it to the room, he was met with faces both new and familiar: James, his manager, and…Aston Martin employees?

He made a confused face and he gave the group a cursory nod and sat down in the last remaining seat, next to his manager.

“Oh, Franco, you’re here,” James said, exhaling. “We have some exciting news.”

His manager had a smile that beamed across the room. “We’ve been talking to these lovely folks from Aston Martin,” she said, gesturing to the other side of the table. “It hasn’t been officially announced yet, but soon they’ll be putting out a statement. Fernando Alonso is retiring.”

Franco gave them a polite smile, unsure of what that information had to do with him.

“So, Aston Martin would like to offer you the seat for 2026.”

Franco felt the air leave his lungs. “I…uh…yes,” he said, too stunned to really speak. “Yes, I want it. Where do I sign?”

“Well, not so fast,” his manager responded. “We have a lot to discuss regarding the new contract, brand deals, buying you out of your Williams contract…”

But Franco was on cloud nine. His manager’s words faded into the background. He felt like heaven had opened up, and the absolute novel of a contract that now sat on the table in front of him was dropped directly there by God Himself. He could even hear the chorus of angels singing.

His presence there was merely a formality, it seemed, as the Aston Martin officials and his manager talked back and forth on minute details for what felt like hours. Nothing would be set in stone today, of course, but she wasn’t lying when she had said that a mountain of work laid ahead of them.

As the time droned on, the officials filtered out one by one, leaving only Franco and his manager alone in the conference room.

“I’m so proud of you, kid,” she said, patting him on the shoulder. “You really earned this.”

“Thank you,” he replied, genuine.

“Look, go back to your room and get some rest. You’ve got a big day tomorrow. But this is strictly confidential, you hear me? You can’t tell a single soul. Not even your own mother. Not even YN.”

“I hear you.”

“And, tomorrow, maybe cover that up better, yeah?” she said, gesturing to her neck. But Franco felt no shame.

“Well, can’t help that you all called at a very inconvenient time.”

His manager grimaced. “I didn’t need to know that. Get some rest,” she laughed, shaking her head. Even she was too happy to truly scold him.

When he finally returned to the room hours later, you had already fallen asleep waiting for him. He quietly undressed and got in bed, gently brushing your hair out of your face to gaze on your sleeping form.

You were perfect. He had gotten the seat and the girl; what else could a man ask for?

The morning was chaotic. You had both overslept.

“I’m sorry about last night, amor,” Franco said as you applied concealer to his neck. “It was urgent, and they kept me there for hours.”

“What was it about?” You gently dabbed a makeup sponge across the reddened skin.

“I can’t say. Strictly confidential. But it’s amazing, you’ll see.” He beamed, but you made a face at him. Smiling flexed his neck muscles and made it harder to cover up the evidence of your intimacy.

At the paddock, it was chaos as usual. It was the return of the Franco Colapinto—now triumphant, having had a solid season in F2 so far—and this time, he walked in with you on his arm.

The only problem was that Franco kept tugging at the neckline of his quarter zip, and the friction was causing the hastily applied makeup from the morning to smudge, revealing the marks beneath.

Thankfully, no reporters said anything. But the fans online certainly were.

Steamy! Franco Colapinto arrives today at the paddock with suspected girlfriend YN in tow, and the driver appears to have several red marks on his neck. YN and Franco have not confirmed any relationship other than being friends, and this is the first race she has attended since Brazil 2024.

COMMENT: Franco showing up to the paddock absolutely covered in hickeys was not on my 2025 bingo card

COMMENT: Okay but that is so on brand for him. This man simply does not give a fuck and I love it.

You chuckled to yourself as you read the comment. But you tensed up as you felt Franco’s manager walk up next to you. You were already anticipating the earful she’d give you.

“He’s a natural at this, ain’t he?” she asked, more a statement than a question. In the distance, Franco was making a reporter laugh.

“Yeah,” you said. Franco’s manager always made you nervous, for some reason.

“I’m so proud of him.”

“Me too.” You paused, unsure of whether to broach the subject. “You’re…unusually chipper today.”

His manager laughed. “Yeah, I guess so. But even I have to relax sometimes. I mean, he’s doing a great job.”

“I heard there was some exciting news. Franco wouldn’t tell me what, though.”

His manager’s casual smile now stretched from ear to ear. “Oh yeah, big stuff. But top secret.”

“I can’t wait to hear.”

Media day went smooth as butter. Practice 1 and 2 went perfect. With the arrival of Carlos Sainz, the Williams car had vastly improved, and Franco drove like an expert.

Such was evident by his P8 finish in qualifying the next day; his highest ever qualifying in F1.

Since your night had been interrupted the day before, your wanting of him hadn’t lessened; in fact, it had grown stronger ever since you realized how you truly were ready. But quali day had taken it out of him, and you knew he needed to rest before the Grand Prix tomorrow.

And on that next day, as you watched him climb in the car from the Williams garage, you hoped that he’d put that rest to good use. You said a prayer for his safety even more than his success.

You held your breath through each lap, silently cheering him on through the knots of nervousness in your stomach. But it seems like your prayer was working; he was gaining places, P8 to P5 only a fourth of the way into the race.

He boxed halfway, and your eyes traced the lines of his car and helmet as he pulled into eyeshot of you and sped away in only a few seconds. He wasn’t looking at you, of course, but it didn’t matter. Your heart felt like it would burst with love.

At first, you didn’t even notice the cameras capturing your sentimental expression. That was, until you glanced away from his car in the distance and looked toward the screen. You were shocked to see your own reflection, captioned with your job title and ‘Franco Colapinto’s partner.’

He really was yours, now. You smiled at the camera and waved before it cut away to the action. Franco just kept gaining. He had dropped a few places after boxing, but made up for it in no time. P4.

You could hear the commentators through your headphones.

“And really, Franco Colapinto is stunning us all here. As we all remember, he had a rather disappointing end to the 2024 F1 season, but he seems to have come back with a vengeance. A podium is a real possibility for him today.”

Your smile couldn’t be contained. He was going to do this. You knew it.

With only five laps left, he overtook for P3. The garage cheered. You cheered with them. But it wasn’t over yet. It was a tense, wheel to wheel battle. Your heart was beating out of your chest.

He was able to inch just slightly enough ahead to cinch the spot as he crossed the checkered flag.

The William’s garage erupted in applause.

You ran to meet him as he pulled up the car, catching him when he jumped into the arms of the crowd of William’s employees. He nearly ripped off his helmet and balaclava, grabbed your jaw and brought you into a rough kiss.

You broke with a smile. “I love you, I’m so proud of you!” you said, unsure if he could even hear you in the chaos.

“Te amo, YN,” he said, tears of happiness clouding the edges of his vision. He continued speaking in Spanish, but you couldn’t make out what he was saying over the crowd. He had to break the embrace to go to the podium.

As he stood up there, you beamed with pride below. He really had made it.

After the podium, you hid away in his driver’s room, waiting for all his media obligations to be over so you could go back to the hotel together. To pass the time, you scrolled. The internet was losing their mind over your hard launch.

And even better, people had already uploaded videos of you and Franco exchanging words of love at the barriers. His words were difficult to make out, but a few dedicated lip readers had attempted to decipher the message. But there was no internet consensus just yet.

You made a mental note to ask Franco what he had said later, but for now, you were sure he was exhausted.

Your assumption was proven correct as he walked into his driver’s room, rolling his shoulders and sighing. But upon seeing you, his face lit up. You greeted him with more hugs and words of praise.

As you both stood there, holding each other, it was like the world around you melted away.

“YN, can I tell you something?” he muttered into your hair, hand snaked around your upper back.

“Anything,” you answered, your face pressed into his chest.

“I’m not supposed to tell anyone. You can’t let my manager know that I told you.”

You hummed in response, but he broke the hug to look at you, indicating the seriousness of his statement to come.

“I got a contract for 2026.”

Your eyes went as wide as dinner plates. You were speechless.

“Franco… that’s, oh my God, that’s amazing!” You thought you were going to burst with love for him.

“Nothing is set in stone yet,” he explained, “but she’s been negotiating the contract, and they’ll probably announce it in a few weeks.”

You reached your fingers up to run them through his curls. “You’re incredible.” He blushed.

“I think we should go back to the hotel and celebrate, hm?” he teased.

“You don’t want to go out?”

“We can if you want,” he mused, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, “but I think the world has seen enough of us today, yeah?”

So you celebrated in your hotel room alone. The bottle of champagne that decorated the desk of the room was left untouched—but you sure as hell weren’t.

The podium had emboldened him. He explored the curves of your body over your clothes with reckless abandon. You wordlessly helped him remove his shirt, trailing your eyes of the muscles that were sure to be sore in a few hours. You traced the marks you had left the other day, now beginning to fade.

“My turn,” he joked, bringing his lips to your neck to give you your fair share of love bites. He brought one hand to gently hold your neck, while the other inched further and further up your shirt, teasing the edge of your bra. You felt like you could drown in his touch. You closed your eyes and fell deep into bliss.

“YN,” he whispered, “are you sure you want to do this? Are we ready?”

You swallowed, nervous. “Yes.”

But he could sense your anxiety, and was hesitant to continue. He pulled back, raking his eyes up and down your form. You couldn’t help your nervousness. But having read your darkest fantasies, he knew what you really wanted.

“You know, the reason I read your diary is because I knew there was something about you that you try so desperately to hide,” he said, his voice soft and smooth as honey. “I wanted to know whatever part of you that you try to hide away from the rest of the world,” he let his hands trace down the length of your arm, and leaned in closer to whisper in your ear, “and that part of you is that you’re a needy girl who’s desperate to get fucked.”

A shiver ran down your spine at the vulgarity of his words, a side to him you’d never seen.

He brought his hand from your arm to your neck, gently tracing the curve towards your chin. “And there’s nothing wrong with that, of course.”

His voice was soft and tender, but when his hand grabbed your chin and forced you to face him, his expression was anything but. “You just needed a man who can fuck you like the desperate girl you are.” Your eyes widened at his words, and you could feel the warmth rush to your cheeks in a rosy blush.

His eyes met yours. “Just say the word, mi amor. Do you trust me? Will you let me fuck you like you want… no, like you need to be fucked so badly? I can do it. I’m not afraid. I want to give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of…” His voice trailed off as he turned his head and closed the gap between you, placing his lips right below your ear. The kiss was soft and made you release your breath. “Say it, YN. Tell me you want this as bad as I do.”

“You really want this?” you said, your voice almost trembling with anticipation.

His lips near your ear were going to be the death of you. “Of course. Can’t you feel how badly I do?” he whispered. You could feel him beneath you, hardening with every second that went past. You imagined the feeling of grinding your hips down on his length, recalling the memories of only a few days before.

Oh God, how badly you wanted to. You wanted to give him everything. You could feel his soft breath on your neck, his hands now resting on your waist, tentatively waiting for your permission to resume roaming the curves of your body. But your breath was caught in your throat.

“Franco…” The soft exhalation of his name was all you can muster. “What, amor?” he replied. You swallowed and closed your eyes, knowing your next word would let the floodgates of your desire open.

“Please.”

His lips met your neck in a kiss that was tentative at first, like you were something fragile that could be broken by his touch. But the feeling of his soft lips finally meeting your skin caused you to draw in a breath.

“You want to take the lead, or should I?” he asked.

“You,” you answered simply, too distracted by the absolutely heavenly feeling of his velvet lips on your neck.

He hummed in response. “If you ever want to stop, just tell me, okay?”

“I will.”

He placed one final kiss on your neck and helped you take off your top. You felt his eyes undressing you more than his hands.

He wordlessly turned you around to sit on his lap, your back against his chest. His hands traced lower and lower down your stomach until they met the lacy waistband of your shorts.

“Are you going to be a good girl and take these off for me?” he purred.

“Why would I do that, when I have you to do it for me?” You could tease him right back. He let out a dark laugh, kissing your neck from behind.

“Little brat…” he cooed, but you took no offense. He slid your shorts off, and you were left with only your bra and panties. He ran his hands up and down your now exposed stomach. His touch was warm and inviting as it traced down to the now wet fabric of your panties.

He began slowly, just tracing the skin through the fabric, inching lower and lower. He could already feel how wet you were. “Doesn’t take that much to get you going, hm? So wet just from my words.”

You blushed in embarrassment at his teasing. “Shut up…”

“Oh, amor,” he kissed your cheek, your face now turning away from him. “It’s okay. I know how badly you needed this.”

You let out a breathy moan as he began to outline your pussy with the feather-light touch of his fingers. He tentatively dipped his fingers under the fabric, spreading them around your growing wetness as he circled your clit.

Slowly and carefully, he put a finger inside you curling it up to hit that sweet spot. With his other hand, he roughly groped at your chest. He unclasped your bra with one hand, tossing it across the room, and let his free hand paw at your chest and circle your nipple.

“See, bébé, what a reward you get when you use your words and tell me what you want?”

“Yes,” you moaned, breathy and full of desire.

“And what do you want?” he asked.

“I want… you.” The words stuck in your throat, your mind too preoccupied with the pleasure of his thumb swirling softly around your clit and the two fingers now pumping in and out of you. You were vulnerable, at his mercy, but you trusted him.

“You want me to…?”

“I want you to… to fuck me.”

“Good girls get what they want. You’ve been so good for me, haven’t you? Can you do one more thing for me?” He smirked, removing his hand from your sensitive bundle of nerves. You already missed the friction.

“Yes, anything,” you promised.

“Get on your knees for me.”

You obeyed. The sight of you on your knees below him, gazing at home longingly with your big doe eyes, made his cock twitch. But he saw something beyond obedience in your face.

He knelt down next to you. “Are you still nervous?” he asked.

You laughed. “I’m always nervous.”

He brushed your hair out of your face, removing all the barriers between the two of you. “Do you want to stop?”

“No. I’m just… not as experienced as you. What if I'm not good?”

“You’ve already been so good for me,” he said, cradling your face in his hands. “I’ll guide you.”

You watched him with your innocent eyes as he stood up, unbuckled his belt, and took off his pants. You dug your knees into the pillow beneath you as he shed his last remaining layer of clothing.

He had no right to tease you for being so wet, when his own arousal coated him. His cock was dripping precum, so hard that it nearly hurt.

“Open your mouth,” he instructed, and again, you obeyed. He gently led you to him as you pressed your tongue to the bottom of his length and licked up to the sensitive head.

He moaned. “I don’t think you need any help, do you?” You just hummed as your tongue traced the lines of his veins up and down his shaft, before you took as much of him as you could, closing your mouth to trap him in the warmth.

He grabbed your hair to gently guide you to a good rhythm. You looked at him in admiration, but his head was thrown back, eyes closed in bliss.

He moved your head faster, and you gagged a bit at his cock filling your mouth. You dug your hands into his thighs. Franco cursed in Spanish under his breath.

Soon, he pulled you away. You were embarrassed. Did you do something wrong?

“God, you feel too good. I can’t finish yet. I want to take my time with you.” He led you back to the bed, finally taking time to gaze at your form laid bare before him.

For a moment, he was silent, just taking in the sight of you. “You’re beautiful, YN.”

You blushed. “You don’t need to flatter me, you already got in my pants,” you joked.

“It’s not flattery,” he replied as he crossed the room to grab a condom from his bag and put it on, “it’s true.”

He returned to the bed, climbing on top of you. “You’re perfect. Every part of you.”

The vulnerable praise made you uncomfortable. “Franco…”

“Touch me, amor.” You obeyed, bringing your hands to his broad shoulder, bracing for what you knew would come next.

“You may not think you’re beautiful, but I do. And I’ll make love to you as many times as I need to until you believe it.”

You blushed and brought your hands to your face. You were not immune to his Argentine charm. He gently pulled your hands away, kissing your wrists, so he could see your face.

As he guided himself to your entrance, he slowly and carefully slid inside you with a deep groan. His eyes rolled back into his head at the heavenly feeling of your pussy, and your breath hitched.

He stopped to give you a moment to adjust to his length. You felt filled and warm; all his.

For a moment he just stayed there, still, looking down at the sight of you stuffed with his cock, ready to be ravished.

“You alright?” he asked, softly tracing circles along your hips with his hands. You nodded through the sweet burn of being stretched on him.

But he could feel the tension in you. “Just relax, YN,” he cooed at you. “I’m going to take good care of you, hm?”

He leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead and you whined. He whispered something in Spanish, too fast and incoherent for you to understand, but with a soft enough tone to recognize the love behind the gesture.

His thrusts at first were slow and shallow, giving you time to adjust. As he gently fucked you, he leaned down to softly whisper sweet nothings into your ears. You felt safe in his arms.

But soon the softness faded away into lust. You both wanted it, and you showing him by how you sang a chorus of noises the faster he fucked you. His rough thrusts brought forth sinful noises from the both of you, lost in your pleasure. “It’s okay, YN. I know how badly you needed this,” he cooed, his own breath strained. “And I needed it too. I needed to feel you wrapped around me. You feel so fucking good, so tight and wet.”

His words weren’t lost on you. “Fuck, Franco…” you begged between his thrusts. You dug your nails into his back as he continued his unrelenting pace.

“Talk to me, pretty girl,” he said, slowing down for a moment. “You okay? Is it good?”

“So good,” you responded. “Don’t stop.”

He wordlessly continued, pumping his full length into you with reckless abandon. You were sure that your nails in his back would draw blood with how roughly you clung to him.

All you could do was take it, all of him, and let the moans and gasps fall from your lips with every touch.

As he sped up, his tone changed, becoming something rougher. He was clearly emboldened by the noises that left your mouth with every movement.

“I love hearing your pretty little noises. I want you to scream for me. Fucking scream my name,” he commanded. You didn’t have the strength in you, too distracted by how good he felt, burying his cock in you.

“F- Franco,” you gasped. He pulled back so you could see him and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look him directly in the eyes.

“What’s that, love? Did you say something, or am I fucking you too good that you can’t even speak properly?”

“Franco, I—” you were cut off by your own whine, “I’m gonna cum.”

“Oh, pretty girl,” he cooed at you, “let go. Cum for me.”

You wanted nothing more than to obey him, and you came closer to the edge hearing his command.

“I want you to look at me when I make you cum,” he instructed. You nodded at him.

But he slowed his pace down to a torturously slow speed, savoring how every inch of him went in and out of your drenched pussy.

Even with his switch, you could feel that knot in your stomach tightening, threatening to explode as you held his intense gaze. Any self consciousness you would have had was cast aside by your desperate need to obey him.

And when he moved his hand from your hips down to your sensitive clit and began to rub, you couldn’t help but follow his command, climaxing in his arms.

He held you as you let the waves of pleasure come over you, not letting up his soft assault on your bundle of nerves. Even as you began to buck your hips involuntarily from the sensitive touch, he just whispered, “It’s okay, mi amor. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

He softly shushed your whimpers of pleasure, gently running his free hand up and down your curves. “Are you okay to keep going? Because you know I’m not done with you yet.”

You didn’t know if you could handle any more, but you sure as hell weren’t going to tell him to stop. You’d waited too long for this, wanted it too badly, to go back now.

You nodded, so he kept going, hitting every spot inside you just right, causing you to throw your head back in pleasure. He was careful not to overwhelm you, taking an even and steady pace, but neither of you could help so heavenly it felt to have him inside of you.

Franco chased his own release, sitting up so he could see your whole body as he fucked you. He held onto your hips hard enough to leave marks, but you’d gladly wear them with pride.

It didn’t take long for him to pull out and rip off the condom, pumping his hand up and down his length.

“YN, I’m so fucking close,” he moaned. “Where—”

You didn’t answer him, just leaning down to take him in your mouth. He grabbed the back of your head, roughly pushing you closer to him.

“Don’t stop, you’re gonna make me cum, don’t—”

He couldn’t finish his sentence before he climaxed, filling your mouth and letting out a low and low groan.

You pulled away from him and swallowed the stickiness that coated your mouth.

He collapsed on the bed next to you. “Fuck, YN.” You laid down next to him. “That was so good.” His chest was still heaving with the intensity of his orgasm.

But as he turned to you, the lust left him, growing into something softer as he brushed your hair out of your face. You were both covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

“You okay?” he asked.

You hummed and nodded, closing your eyes and leaning into him, taking in the smell of sex and his cologne. You couldn’t get close enough to him.

He kissed the top of your head. “I’ve got you,” he assured. You were too overwhelmed to say anything. He just held you.

Eventually, you both got up to take a shower before you both got ready for bed. Snuggled close to him, you felt the quiet warmth of his presence protecting you, and it lulled you to sleep quicker than anything else ever could.

When you woke up in the middle of the night, you checked your phone. The internet sleuths had finally deciphered what Franco had said to you—a heartachingly sweet confession of love. He had said you were his life, his everything. He couldn’t have done it without you.

Within the thin crack of light from blinds and the streetlights outside, you could see Franco’s backpack, with your diary still in it. If you wanted to, you could have stolen it back. But instead, you left it be, snuggling deeper into the bed to get close to the man you loved who slept peacefully beside you.

It was true that more work needed to be done until you all could fully communicate with no difficulties—no language barriers, no journals, just heartfelt words. But you knew you both could do it. You loved each other too much to not.

So you smiled as you felt his arm sleepily wrap around you and pull you close. You were safe. You were home.

263 notes · View notes

syoounn · 3 days ago

Text

New Year Celebration Scenario

•Characters: Chuuya, Dazai

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Chuuya

Spending New Year with your beloved Chuuya has always been the sweetest moment. As usual, both of you would go to the roof top that'll would see the fireworks better.

The countdown is nearing, and you've already invited him to go to your usual place to celebrate. Chuuya stretched and stood up, rubbing at his head. He ran a hand through his hair tiredly, then began to walk to the door.

He looked back at you, waiting for a moment to make sure you were following behind before starting to walk again to get out of the penthouse to go to the roof.

Chuuya opened the roof’s door and walked outside into the cool air of the night, looking up at the night sky and the stars.

He walked over to a bench set in the corner and sat down on it, pulling a carton of his cigarettes before taking one out and lighting it. He looked over to you when you walked outside as well, waiting for you to join him as he extended his hand for you to grab and the way he looks at you is making you melt and taking his hand as he pulled you in.

“It’s cold.” Chuuya muttered as he blew out some smoke while observing you as you came over and sat down beside him. He held his carton out towards you for you to take a cigarette if you wanted.

He stared up at the sky for a moment, taking another drag of his cigarette before speaking up again. "Do you think we’ll actually be able to see any fireworks from here, Doll?”

You chuckled. "What do you mean? we always go here."

Chuuya rolled his eyes at your laugh.

“I mean that the sky is pretty damn cloudy tonight, you idiot.” He smirked and shook his head, taking another drag from his cigarette as he spoke. He glanced over at you again.

“You really don’t think about these things, do you, Doll..?”

You then just smiled, hoping the sky would clear up soon. You then looked at him smiling.

"Chuuya.. Thank you, " you said with a smile.

“Heh, thank me?” Chuuya raised an eyebrow at you, looking a bit surprised by your words all of a sudden.

“Thank me for what, Doll?”

"For everything," you said.

“Oh yeah? You’re thanking me for everything.” Chuuya hummed in amusement, shifting a bit on the bench to face you. He raised one of his arms up and wrapped it around your shoulders, tugging you in closer to him.

He took another drag from his cigarette, his eyes staring directly at you. "You’ll have to be more specific, Doll. Everything’s a lot of things."

"Okay then.. Thank you for loving me, cuddling me, kissing me, cooking for me, taking care of me, spoili-" you said as you kept talking.

Chuuya couldn’t help a subtle smile from appearing on his face, listening to your long list as you rambled on. Though, he couldn’t help but cut you off when it started to become quite long.

“Yeah yeah, I get it, you’re thankful for a lot of things.” He said, trying to sound unamused, but you could tell he wasn’t.

“But you’re thanking me for all that when really I should be the one thanking you for putting up with me.”

“You’re the one who gives me affection, lets me dote on you, kisses me back, takes care of me just as much as I take care of you, and puts up with me for every minute of every damn day.” Chuuya continued as he spoke again.

“I don’t think you realize how much I’m grateful to have you as my Doll.”

Chuuya’s arm around your shoulders tightened just a bit, bringing you a tiny bit closer to his side. He took one final drag from his cigarette before flicking it away somewhere, not really caring where the hell it went.

“If anyone should be grateful, it should be me, Doll. You’ve stuck with me for all these years, and you’ve kept up with me so well despite all my bullshit.”

You looked at him soflty and speechless by his words as you immediately leaned and pressed your lips against his. Chuuya was caught a bit off guard by the sudden kiss, but he leaned into it without hesitation. His hand slid down to the side of your waist, and his grip around your shoulder relaxed a bit.

Chuuya’s eyes remained closed as the fireworks lit up the sky behind him, the beautiful light colors reflecting in his face, but he didn’t pay them at any attention. He was focused on the intimate and tender moment of the kiss that the two of you were sharing.

As the kiss ended, you looked at him all softly with a smile as you spoke. "Happy New Year, Chuuya.."

“Mhm.. Happy New Year, Doll.” Chuuya mumbled against your lips, one of his hands reaching up to cup your cheek as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss just a bit. He let his eyes close again, and he just savored the way your lips felt against his, the sweet taste that he was addicted to, and the comforting warm sensation in his chest that only you caused him to feel that and only you, and both of you welcomed the new year and celebrated with eachother warmth.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Dazai

It was New Year's Eve, as expected, your lover would invite you to celebrate New Year and watch the fireworks together.

You wondered, though, where he would take you this time as you asked.

"Dazai, where should we be celebrating?"

A small, sly grin slowly spreads across on Dazai's face, his tone almost flirty...

"Well, that depends... do you want to celebrate somewhere private or-?"

"Wha-.. What are you talking about.. we need to see the fireworks too, " you said, cutting him off and immediately flustered by the idea.

Dazai laughs lightly at your response, amused by your innocent confusion to my clear proposition. Dazai keeps his fingers intertwined with yours, not wanting to let go of your hand, and Dazai's eyes never leaving yours as he speaks, his tone light and playful still.

"I was just kidding... of course we can go see the fireworks..."

Both of you proceeded looking for a spot as you both walked on a snowy path, and you called his name.

"Dazai.."

Dazai walks alongside you as both of you make your way towards the view of the fireworks, his hand still holding yours, the sensation of your fingers intertwined with his sending a wave of comfort through both of you.

"Yes, Bella..?"

"Hmm, well.. i just wanted to thank you.. for being always there for me." You said with a smile

Dazai's eyes widen slightly at your words, being taken aback for a moment at your sudden sincerity. He pauses for a moment before slowly responding, his tone affectionate and sincere in return...

"There's no need to thank me, bella... He squeezes your hand in mine, as if trying to emphasize what he's about to say... as if trying to drive the sentiment of his words into you with my touch...

He takes a deep breath, his gaze still fixed on you.

He doesn't feel like he deserves any credit for always being here by your side... It's something... he wants to do, he wants to... No, he needs to be by your side...

He keeps his hand around yours, not letting go, almost like his scared that if he let go, he'll lose you...

"...I need you..."

You were surprised by his words as you smiled softly, without even realizing the fireworks started to show up.

He blinks as the sky suddenly explodes with colour, breaking his attention away from you for a moment to quickly look up and take in his sight of the fireworks. His grip on your hand tightens slightly, as if he's make sure you're still here with him...

Before he can even speak, you leaned to kiss him, savouring the another moment with him that'll you hope would last long.

He feels a slight shiver go down his spine at the feeling of your lips pressing against his, his eyes slowly closing as he slowly returns the kiss.

His mind goes blank for a moment as the two of you stand here, sharing a sweet kiss by the side of a snowy pathway, the beautiful sight of fireworks playing out in the sky above.

After a little while longer, Dazai reluctantly pulls away, opening his eyes and looking down at you. he can't help but let a small, affectionate smile appear on his face as he looks at you, unable to deny how good that felt. he releases one of your hands and instead wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

"Happy New Year, Dazai..."

He looks down into your eyes as you wish him a happy new year. He can't help but feel a warmth spread throughout his chest at the sound of your voice. He pulls you even closer as he responds, his voice speaking out sincerely.

"Happy New Year..." he says

Without warning, Dazai suddenly leaned down and kissed you again, this time with a bit more passion as both of you shared your love, feeling both of your warmth in the snow.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

(Happy New Year, everyone! I apologize for not updating for months. i hope yall enjoy this!)

#bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd fluff #chuuya x reader #dazai x reader

86 notes · View notes

xdyledz · 3 days ago

Text

Boyfriend haul

background information:

recently i saw this video on tiktok where people show off their boyfriends in a haul type of tiktok so i wanted to show how this would go with bakugou.

bakugou and reader are both 21

bakugou lives with kaminari, kirishima and sero. I like to imagine they’re apartment having a up and downstairs.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:e⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

There are two things you love. Tiktok and your Boyfriend katsuki, and what’s better then one of them? both of them,…together.

You were in bakugous room watching tiktoks when a video comes up on your fyp called ‘ Boyfriend haul ‘. While watching the video you couldn’t help but smile at the video, then a bright idea came up to ask bakugo to do this with you.

Bakugou doesn’t really post on tiktok, but in the past he has done videos with you “ against his will “ so there shouldn’t be a problem.

You get out of his bed and go downstairs to the living room. Apon entering the area the first person to notice your presences is sero while he’s making his way back to the rest of the group.

“ hey y/n! how was your nap?” “ Ah it was good, i slept in the best bed after all “ hearing this sero giggles. Hearing your name the first person to turn around is kaminari, he’s the one you’re the closest with.

“ Y/NNNNNNN you’ve FINALLY awoken from you slumber “ he says as he gets up and makes is way over to you. Bakugou sees you but doesn’t do anything knowing you’ll make your way over to him. Once all three of you make your way to the couch you immediately go and sit next to bakugou.

“ Hi suki “ you say while giving him a hug. “ hey “ kaminari sees this and says “ ew you woke up just to snuggle with your boyfriend? “ “ shut up “ kirishima says before bakugou could say anything ( or do anything).

“ i need you help with something suki “ “ huh? with what? “ “ come upstairs and i’ll show you “ bakugo gives you a confused face and mumbles something underneath his breath but ends up getting up and following you back to his room.

“ Sooo….what kind of-“ “ shut up kaminari “ sero and kirishima say together “ wow, live with yours friends they said, it will be soooo much fun “ he says while leaning back into the couch,

once making it up stairs you pull out your phone. “ what the hell are you doing, and what do you need help with? “ “ Look “. you show him the video and say “ can we do this please “ with a smile.

“ No. “ “ WHY “ “ because that’s stupid, plus you said you needed help with something. i thought you saw a spider and needed me to kill it “ he said while sighing and crossed his arms. Looking into his eyes, you put you hands on you hip and say “ fine i’ll ask kaminari “ while walking past him. Once you reach the outside of the door he immediately pulls you back into the room and slams the door “ like hell you will, hurry up and do what you going to do. “

Satisfied with his answer you walk over to his desk and set up your phone to record “ ok so go over there, out a frame and then i’ll introduce you and say a bunch of stuff then we’re done” “ what are you going to say….. “ “ don’t worry a bunch of good things”” fine whatever”. Before pressing record you stand on your tippy toes and give him a quick kiss.

“ Ok guys i got a boyfriend for christmas and im going to give you all a haul “ stepping out of frame you grab bakugo and walk you both back in “

“ this model is a hero, he’s 6’2 and blonde and has red eyes “ you pull bakugos face into the camera which he grumbles at “ turn to side, ok nice jaw line, turn to the other side. and he has dimples” backing him up you say “ put your head up “ “ what? “ “ oh my- here “ you pull his head back and say “ nice adam’s apple, ok now here’s my favorite feature “ you turn bakugou to the side and grab his arm and roll up his sleeve. “ this model and very VERY nice arms. I like to bite them thinking it will taste like strawberry cake, it never does “.

Hearing this bakugou smiles “ ok now back to the front, he’s very nice to look at and to touch, ok turn around. thank you Anyways he has a great back and a nice butt that i like to grab”. Before you can even touch bakugou he grabs your hand and looks at you with a dark look “ Don’t “ Rolling your eyes you turn him back around and say.

“ i wasn’t going to mention this but as you can see this model does have a couple of malfunctions, he likes to talk back and has a very slick mouth. He also likes to fight. “

Apon hearing this bakugou breaks the cool guy and completely blows up “ HUHHH?? DO YOU GET OFF BY SAYING CRAP LIKE THIS?? THAT IS NOT TRUE “ “ know bakugou had no intention of hurting you, you turn to the camera and say “ see “ this only further angers him, he pull you into him picks you up and walks over to drop you on his bed “ See what? you know what you’re right i do like to fight and we’re gonna fight right now”. he says while raising both his hands and moving his fingers “ WAIT KATS NO- “

Bakugou katsuki ended up tickling you until he felt like you had been punished enough.Once he was done he leaned down and gave you a small kiss. it was sweet and soft really showing how much he cared about you. once he pulled away and got up and said “ hurry up and come downstairs before anyone gets any ideas”

Bakugou left you there with a sore tummy and sore cheeks but at least you got through your video.

The next day when you woke up bakugou wasn’t there, you saw a text message saying “ sorry I had to leave earlier then expected, hero stuff “ then and hour later he sent “ Also you’re video isn’t as horrible as i thought it would be “ confused you open tiktok and see that your video had completely blew up.

Rewatching it you couldn’t help but smile. Bakugou always knew how to put a smile on your face.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:e⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

Hello, this was very poorly written i know sorry.

#katsuki bakugo mha #mha x you #mha x reader #mha bakugou #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bakugou fluff #bakugo oneshot #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki

109 notes · View notes

ihaznoclue · 15 hours ago

Note

hello! Can we have movie shadow x a seriously hurt reader prehaps? The reader is now close to death after them getting the second cannon key and shadow finds them close to deaths door and saves them after growing close to them as the mission for revenge has gone on?

Pairings -> Shadow the Hedgehog x Reader

Warnings -> Injuries, near death experiences, getting shot

Note -> Reader gets seriously injured when getting the second key luckily shadow finds them and saves them

Genre -> Angst

Shadow The Hedgehog

This was your mission, a mission that you couldn't mess up or there will be consequences for you You were willing to help for shadow, his revenge for his friends death. You wanted to help shadow, after all his pain and suffering you wanted to help him get his revenge towards G.U.N.

You didn't like G.U.N either, many things you hated about them and you wanted to change everything that they did.

Now your mission was to get the second key from the G.U.N base that was in London. You never been to London before but here you were now in the G.U.N base, quietly getting through security.

Luckily you went through the vents to get to the place you needed to be, crawling the tight space as you looked to the side to see so many G.U.N members walking around keeping guard.

You were nervous yes but you were willing to do this, because you agreed that instead of the Robotniks to get the key you would do it instead.

Shadow didn't like the idea of you going alone but you reassured him that you will be fine as you would go in and out quickly.

Shadow stayed with Stone in the crab underground in the sewers, watching a film movie while you and the Robotniks went inside. Shadow was staying put until he was told to help just in case.

You were crawling a little bit more in the vents trying to keep quiet, hearing voices here and there as you finally reached where the key would be.

You needed to kick down the vent in order to get out, which was a bad idea as it made so much noise so you waited for a couple of seconds to here if anyone was coming.

No-one

You sighed in relief as you got out of the vents as you stood up stretching form being in that tight ass vents for so long.

The place was empty and quiet which was a bit eerie for you but you spotted the key, you were going to reach it but..

"Hold it right there!"

well shit.. you were caught

You knew that would happen for kicking the vents so God damn loud so you froze putting on a act to help save you from getting shot or something like that.

"Turn around and put your hand where I can see them"

You obeyed as you turned around and put your hands up, you need to think of something to get out of this situation

All that you could do was

Run?

Hide?

Get shot?

Run it is...

"Come back here!"

You ran and ran where your feet could go, that was until shot were fire towards you

"Are you kidding me?!" You shouted as you ran passed more guys as they put up there Guns

You didn't know where the exit was and if you did go to the exit you were sure there would be more people there to stop you from leaving

You were scared that you were going to die, as you turned a corner a shot hit your shoulder which caused you to scream

Blood staining your clothes as you ran more, a another shot hit the side of your hip only slightly as more blood came out

You were sure going to lose a lot of blood for this, you turned around as you saw no-one following you anymore as you lost them

You then hit your head on the wall as you came to a dead end, your head was throbbing as you slouched down of the wall into sitting

You needed to get someone to come and get you

Whispering Shadow's name as then everything went black as you passed out

With Shadow, he was with the second key as he took it from Tom who he thought was the commander

Now all he needed is to find you, hoping you were okay as he used chaos control to teleport everywhere in the base to find you

Eventually he did as he spotted you in a terrible state he didn't want to see you in, blood spilling on the floor, who ever did this to you would pay but he needed to get you out of here

He never used chaos control with a human before but he was willing to try to get you to safety and to get you healed

He needed to save you or else he would lose both of the people he loved and cared for the most

He wanted to you alive and he was willing to fight for it

-A<3

#sonic movie #sonic 3 #sonic movie 3 #sonic movie spoilers #shadow the hedgehog x reader #shadow x reader #shadow the hedgehog #shadow the ultimate lifeform

88 notes · View notes

just-a-carrot · 2 days ago

Text

I'm not really in the mood to make a festive Happy New Year's post. So instead I'll just say... we made it. I made it. You made it. The year is over and we're still here. And that is enough.

It's no real secret by this point but 2024 has been one of the worst years of my life. From constant anxiety and panic attacks over job stability in the spring, to losing two family members, to the depressive spiral I entered after finishing OW, to the second spiral in the fall just when I thought maybe I was finally doing a bit better and everything came crashing back down, my mental health has been worse than it's ever been. And I've spent a lot more nights than I'd like to admit wishing I wouldn't wake up in the morning. (And downed a lot more sleeping pills than I'd like to admit because it's the only OTC thing I can get to mildly decrease my anxiety and help numb me a bit LOL)

I just want... this year to be over. Even though I have no hope for 2025 either and mostly just feel anxious and hopeless about it. But I will continue trying. Continuing grappling for the bits of joy that can keep me going. And maybe I finally will get a little bit of calm and peace. Who can say. I guess we'll see what 2025 decides to bring. I just really want to feel a bit better finally. And I hope that 2025 might take pity on me and allow me some mental respite.

2024 did have its moments of joy. Despite it sending me into the spiral, I am ofc glad that I finished OW finally this year. I consider it one of my greatest accomplishments. And I still can't believe that I put 3 whole years of work into this thing and just how much of my soul went into it. Even if my depression keeps trying to convince me that it (and me) are worthless.

I feel like I grew a lot in my art over the year. Trying new and more complex things. Getting better at composition and poses. Which led into my starting Broomtail, which gave me really the first renewed spark of creative joy since releasing the finale and actually made me excited to work on something again.

Speaking of joy amidst melancholy, DD2 was released this year, and it became the one thing that could keep me going at times. It brought me so much joy and inspiration when nothing else would. And it still holds my heart captive in its grip. From all the DD2 art I did, to the O2A2 game, to my silly tragic music video, to a very self-indulgent fanfic, it gave me so much creative energy, and I want to do more art for it in 2025 too! (And I'm still waiting for that DLC, Capcom...) I can't think of another game ever that's had this much of a hold on me before. Though I do attribute much of that to the fact that in my head it's mostly an OW AU since I could make Iggy and Genzou and play out their tragic love story and it was so beautiful and Genzou was so so sweet and cute GUH. Yeah... that helped a lot.

I think my main goal for 2025 is just to keep trying. To keep surviving. To keep trying to find hope and joy where I can. To believe that I can feel better and things can be better. Even when it's hard. And that hopefully... hopefully I will be able to find some peace in there finally.

I do have various projects I'd like to work on too. Like finishing the remaster, continuing Broomtail, maybe working on another game later on. But I'd rather just think of those as things I'd like to do for myself and because they bring me joy, rather than as any kind of goal or pressure. Especially since I never want to make any promises given the instability of my mental health.

I'm just so tired always. And I hate feeling scared and worthless all the time. I hate feeling trapped. Even if I know it's my own life choices and debilitating fear of change that has led to a lot of this. So it's my own fault in the end. But I hope I can find some solace. And I hope you can, too. I hope 2025 will be a kind year to everyone. And even if it's not, that we can find some joy and hope to help us through it.

Sorry this felt a bit morose LOL I guess I wanted to just take this opportunity to reflect back on the year a bit for some catharsis. I shall now sleep for 24 hours to recover from my flight hahaha.

if you saw this post a day ago for a few seconds i'm sorry -- i was working on it in my drafts and must have accidentally clicked post instead of save(??) somehow(???) idk but it posted and i panicked and deleted it and then had to rewrite it from scratch LOL

#carrot thoughts #art: ow #art: iggy

39 notes · View notes

riddles-n-games · 3 days ago

Text

Last Christmas I Gave You My Heart

Pairing: Avery and Jameson Summary: Avery has finally gotten downtime to actually settle for the holidays. It's her first Christmas at Hawthorne House and with a new boyfriend. Jameson and her are still figuring things out; can they help each other through the muddle of the last few weeks? Length: Moderate Story Type: One Shot

Tag List: @hathorneheiress, @whatsamongus, @xoxo-lenah, @charsoamerican, @thecircularlibrary, @elif-in-wonderland, @jamcarven, @silly-little-gooses, @mafiasliege, @lyrakanefanatic, @nothankyou3333, @inmyheaddd, @downrightbooks, @no1bookgirl, @elysianwayy77, @ariscats, @never-enough-novels, @goldi-1-graysons-version, @apollospoems, @x-liv25-jamieswife, @anintellectualintellectual, @aaal-iz-well

youtube

A/N: Hey guys, Merry Christmas! It was about time we actually had some holiday set fics and what better way than to dedicate it to the couple that started it all? I was inspired by one passage in Secret Santa from Games Untold and so we go back in time to where it all started for Averyjameson, at the most wonderful time of the year. Enjoy! Warning, it's looooooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnng.

“I keep thinking about last Christmas. You were still recovering from the coma.”

Last Christmas, we hadn’t played Secret Santa.

Last Christmas, we’d been together, but I hadn’t been his and he hadn’t been mine the way we were now.

ONE YEAR AGO

It seemed to be his wish and purpose to mask this expression with a smile; but the latter played him false, and flickered over his visage so derisively, that the spectator could see his blackness all the better for it. Ever and anon, too, there came a glare of red light out of his eyes; as if the old man’s soul were on fire, and kept on smouldering duskily within his breast, until, by some casual puff of…

My throat was starting to feel dry so I carefully reached over for the water bottle. Xander’s Holly Jolly Hot Chocolate Marshmallow Surprise was already halfway gone and I wanted to savor it for as long as I could. There were also only four marshmallows left, to my dismay. In addition, while my plate of sweets was still relatively full, it was already devoid of my favorites, chocolate cupcakes, even though Libby had added extras for that very reason. They never stood a chance and now without them, the plate looked agonizingly empty.

I unscrewed the cap and brought the bottle to my lips, never taking my eyes off the page.

… passion, it was blown into a momentary flame. This he repressed as speedily as possible, and strove to look as if nothing of the kind had happened.

Once hydrated, I put it back down and grabbed a cookie, stuffing it in my mouth before I grabbed another sticky note, taping it on the little desktop attached to the recliner. It was convenient compared to my usual tactic which was using a textbook as a hard surface to write on when I didn’t want to sit hunched at my desk. Grayson would have argued there was no difference where I sat as both resulted in bad posture.

I finished off the page and kept the book splayed open as I jotted down my newest annotations for the chapter. When done, I put the sticky note in the free margin and slid the book toward me, flipping to the next page.

For some time, I continued on with no annotations since there wasn’t anything of note.

Or was there, as it rather seemed, a circle of ominous shadow moving along with his deformity, whichever way he turned himself? And whither was he now going? Would he not suddenly sink into the earth, leaving a barren and blasted spot, where, in due course of time, would be seen deadly nightshade, dogwood, hen-bane, and whatever else of vegetable wicke-

A gasp escaped me as the book toppled off the desktop from my lax grip but luckily my arm reflex was fast enough to grab it before it fell to the floor. But, of course, that still came with a price.

“Damn it.” I lost my spot on the page. I quickly leafed through familiar territory until I got to the newer stuff I just covered. Thankfully, I realized that I had stopped just a page or two after the start of a new chapter. When I found it, I searched for keywords from what I remembered reading then leaned back in the chair to get comfortable. Before I continued reading, my eyes drifted to the fire in the hearth to the garland decorating the mantle and the antique clock sitting atop it. 9:15, the clock read. It was getting late.

I sighed. The day had been long; Alisa occupied me with more papers relating to my emancipation alongside briefings for the Hawthorne Foundation and upcoming events. However, even with all the paperwork, I somehow managed to help Libby bake cupcakes and other holiday desserts, got roped into Xander’s Christmas experiments, and also had some shooting practice with Nash. After it all, I escaped into the circular library to one of the adjoining rooms for some relaxing and to get on with my English reading.

In part, I knew that all of this was to keep me distracted from my traumatic ordeals from the past few weeks. While I was pushing for it because I didn’t want to be wallowing in those memories and all the questions that came with them, I was still tired. I needed this.

My gaze drifted to the rest of the room, to really take it in for the first time in hours. There was a Christmas tree in the corner, bookshelves lining the walls, a large desk in the back, and another sitting area. It was cozy and with all the Christmas decor, it felt like a Christmas card came to life. Mom would have love- No. Don’t think about it. It’s just gonna hurt you. I blinked back the sudden onset of tears and took steady breaths to keep from crying. But it was too late; my imagination was conjuring up projections of my mom sitting in the opposite chair, making her move on a chessboard, teasing me about doing homework when I could have been taking an epic nap.

I shook my head and swiped at my eyes as I leaned over to grab another cookie. I munched on it slowly and turned back to the book.

… wickedness the climate could produce, all flourishing with hideous luxuriance? Or would he spread bat’s wings and flee away, looking so much the uglier, the higher he rose towards heaven? “Be it sin or no,” said Hester Prynne bitterly, as she still gazed after him, “I hate the man!” She upbraided herself for the sentiment, but could not overcome or lessen it. Attempting to do so, she thought of those long-past days, in a distant land, when he used to emerge at eventide from the seclusion of his study, and sit down in the fire-light of their home, and in the light of her nuptial smile. He needed to bask himself in that smile, he said, in order that the chill of so many lonely hours among his books might be taken off the scholar’s heart. Such scenes had once appeared not otherwise than happy, but now, as viewed through the dismal medium of her subsequent life, they classed themselves among her ugliest rememb-

“Avery?” I heard my name being called and I jolted.

The question was followed up by a tentative knock on the door. “Heiress?” Jameson.

“Come in,” I called out.

The door knob turned and a resounding click later, a dark-haired Hawthorne was standing in the doorway smiling softly at me. He stood there for a beat, awkwardly shuffling his feet and scratching his side as if waiting for a signal or something. Odd. I beckoned with my head for him to come in. It took him another second before he actually made a move.

I closed my book and turned to properly face him, flashing him a bright smile in greeting. “Hey, barely saw you today. What have you been up to?”

Jameson didn’t reply but clearly what I said put a little more spring in his step. As he got closer, a familiar glint appeared, the kind he got when he was thinking up something clever and his usual smirk came back. When he was finally close enough, he spoke, taking on a poetic tone.

‘‘Twas a few nights before Christmas, when all through the House, not a creature was stirring, not even the heiress on her couch.”

“Not a couch but go on.” He grinned, undeterred.

“But every so often she’d look to the clock and run a hand through her hair, anxious to know if her devastatingly handsome boyfriend would soon be there.” I rolled my eyes but didn’t miss the way he punctuated the word boyfriend. It sent a shiver down my spine.

“She was snug as a bug by the hearth with a book that needed to be read, while thoughts of his potential mischief that day dashed through her head. With an exasperated sigh and a hot chocolate sip, she continued to read all the while thinking how she was going to give him lip, when all of a sudden he burst through the door with his usual swagger, looking rather dapper,” he winked when I snorted at the sheer arrogance, “and sat in the chair beside her to ask her what was the matter.”

With that end of verse, he plopped into the opposite chair all the while looking terribly pleased with himself. Note to self: learn how to curb this man’s ego. While I admired it at times, if we were going to be in a relationship, I was gonna have to bring his smugness down a few notches. I eyed him carefully.

“Jameson Winchester Hawthorne.”

“Avery Kylie Grambs.” The bastard dared to give me that shit-eating grin of his.

“What did you do?” And more importantly, what are you hiding?

“Nothing.” I arched an eyebrow. He chuckled and shook his head. “Can’t believe even for a second that for once I might not have been up to trouble?” My eyes narrowed at him suspiciously.

“Prior instances dictate otherwise.” And Oren was just outside for back up reconnaissance. His expression morphed into a guilty smile that looked anything but remorseful. I pursed my lips and sighed loudly. “What am I going to do with you?”

“I don’t know. Hopefully run away with me on a grand adventure.”

“Mm. Sounds delightful. But unfortunately, as you yourself said, I have a book to read.”

“What is it?” I held the book up. “Scarlet Letter? You really can’t resist Hawthornes, eh?”

“Not my fault the school curriculum is also obsessed with you,” I grumbled.

Jameson chuckled again before growing quiet. Just like that, the playfulness died down and we settled into silence. Both of us turned to look at the hearth. The pleasant crackle of the flames coming from the fireplace and steady ticking beat of the clock were the only ambient noise in the room.

None of us said anything for a little while but it felt like its own eternity, like a tension was building but not an uncomfortable one. I peaked at Jameson from the corner of my eye, noticing that his smile had faded and looked rather solemn. His eyes glowed an inviting emerald in the firelight. He looked deep in thought, about what, I didn’t know. Suddenly, I picked up on movement coming from his end and it was getting closer to me. Looking down, I realized it was his hand reaching out to my right one that was lax on the armrest.

Though I saw it coming, I still startled a bit when I felt his fingers brushing against mine. “Sorry.”

He didn’t say anything, just continued to do what he was doing and gently took my hand in his. I let him. Looking up, I saw that Jameson had scooted over to the edge of his seat, his eyes trained on our hands as he gently rubbed circles into my skin. I watched him and felt like I couldn’t breathe, terrified to break the spell of this moment, whatever this was.

“How are you?” His soft voice broke through my mesmerized daze and realizing he was now looking at me, that rare sincerity in his expression made me feel shy under his gaze. My heartbeat seemed to slow, making each cycle feel like the tension would burst any second and the rush of blood flowing was loud in my ears.

“I’m okay,” I finally said. He didn’t seem satisfied but didn’t push. Jameson then brought my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles but it made me wonder. What are you doing? Why are you?

This wasn’t the first time where he dropped the pretense and turned tender. In the last few weeks, there have been many times where, when we were alone, he’d randomly become gentle and considerate, throwing me for a loop. It was certainly unusual.

And surprisingly, even though it was happening often, it caught me off guard every time, more so than anything going on these days. We’d been together like usual but my brain still hadn’t really given the thought we were in a relationship until he did something like that. I hadn’t really processed our new status in general with all that’s been going on but I clung to our normalcy like a lifeline.

“She told him there was nothing to worry about, but he could see hovering over her head was a gray cloud of doubt.” He looked at me with arched brows. “He was there for whatever she had to say, even if it took an entire day.”

I smiled and squeezed his hand. “Really, I’m okay. I’m just tired and I don’t want to think about the last few weeks at all. Actually, I was planning on asking Alisa if she could find me a good therapist in the New Year.”

“That’s good,” he said encouragingly.

I sighed before continuing, “Thank you for being here for me. I know it’s not your usual style but…”

“Maybe, but, I told you that if you chose me, this would mean something. You mean something to me, Avery. I just didn’t know this-us-would happen so soon. That was definitely something I wasn’t counting on.”

A smirk played on my lips. “Oh, but you were expecting us to get together at some point?”

Jameson smiled sheepishly. “Only if you could resist my charm for so long.” I guffawed as he rolled his eyes.

“No, but um, you’re right. I didn’t expect this either. If you had asked further down the line, I don’t think I would have said no then either. But what happened, happened; we can’t change that,” I paused and took a breath, “And honestly, I wouldn’t want to. As cliche as it sounds, we do have our future ahead of us and we get to make decisions together now.”

“Wow, just wow. That was so motivational. Would you mind skipping a grade so you can be valedictorian for my class next June?”

“I mean, I could but I don’t think Xander would like that very much.”

“And why does my little brother take precedence over your boyfriend?” There it was again but I didn’t focus on the way the word made my heart skip a beat.

“Because he’s already gotten attached to my hip and betrayal would break his precious little heart. Oh, and, he’s promised to stash away 10% of Mrs. Laughlin’s blueberry scones if I swore allegiance to his robots.”

“Fair enough. That’s Xan for ya,” Jameson said fondly.

“Yeah. And what about you, Clement Moore? How much of that did you have rehearsed?”

He smiled shyly and looked down. “Just the first bit. I can make up stuff pretty quickly. The old man used to read to me when I was younger and I liked rhyming words so when I couldn’t sleep I would try to make up as many rhymes as I could until I did. I also used to sleepwalk.” My eyebrows shot up. “Yup. I know.”

“I can imagine that. Sounds like a very Jameson thing. I-”

“Um, Heiress, sorry to cut you off but I have to ask you something.” I blinked, taken aback. “Be honest with me, does it bother you when I refer to myself as your boyfriend? I saw the way your eyes widened.”

“I mean, aren’t you?” A nervous laugh came out as I wasn’t sure what to say.

“Technically, yes. But I’m not forcing you to call me that or anything. To me, what’s important is what you’re comfortable with.” My heart swelled. This boy.

“I actually hadn’t given it much thought. With all that’s been happening, whenever our, um, this flits through my head, I would freak out and my mind just didn’t know how to address it. Not that I don’t want to think about us but it’s like a visceral reaction which I hate.” Fearing I said too much I shut my mouth and with bated breath, waited for his reaction. I expected disappointment but was relieved to find no judgment. No, I was met with understanding instead. He squeezed my hand this time and I exhaled slowly.

Moments like these made me forget he was just Jameson and reminded me that he was now… something more. We became “official” with a coin toss and a kiss then continued doing what we always did. Everybody knew we were together, we didn’t make that a secret, done deal. There just wasn’t a label. And yet, I still felt it in every way that mattered.

Except, I wasn’t sure how to express that to him as he was wary about his brother despite Grayson backing off. However, we had to figure other things out between us first. I may be ready to be bold but being bold and wanting to be bold were two different things.

Part of that was becoming his type of reliable with loyalty being highest priority. I couldn’t change what Emily did, that I knew, but I could help him move past that. Jameson had been doing that for me so much recently and I couldn’t be more grateful. It was hard to believe but the boy who’d played at indifference was also the one who came with his heart on his sleeve, offering to dive headfirst if I chose him.

This was the same boy now holding my hand, checking on me because he was worried. What a difference two months made. I knew immediately behind the facade, there was a compassionate young man with a good heart, he just didn’t believe it. I hoped I could change that.

With that in mind, I turned back to him. “To dispel any misconception right now; I know what I was saying yes to. I did think about that. A lot. Being with you, being together has been such an important part of my day and it keeps me sane. And-” My voice cracked suddenly, surprising me. “And…”

“Heiress?” My eyes landed on his concerned face, darting over each feature and taking in the details until I was swept into the memory of the day with the postcards.

The hidden letters. The words of longing. Toby. Sarah who was actually Hannah. The same forward as backward. Hannah, oh Hannah. My mother being described through someone else’s eyes. Their love story. Me wanting to be left alone. Jameson being the first to address that. Jameson ushering everyone out. Jameson leaving. Jameson giving up on a clue. Jameson putting aside the mystery. Jameson. Jameson. Jameson.

A sob escaped me. My hand flew over my mouth in reflex. I didn’t understand why but another one followed and another. Jameson was in front of me in a flash. His arms wrapped around me as my vision blurred with tears. The last thing I did register was my nose pressing against something hard but covered by a soft material and my eyes fluttered shut, letting the tears fall.

I didn’t know how much time passed but the tears felt never ending, my cheeks were sticky and the sobs coming out were shallow gasps. Images of my mom danced through my mind, especially those from the last Christmas with her. That morning she’d been wearing a robe over her pjs with a steaming mug of coffee in her hand, hair loose for once, all excited as she slid a wrapped present over the counter toward me. It had been a book I wanted, special edition, which I scolded her for but Mom had laughed it off, bringing me into a hug and wishing me a Merry Christmas. But most memorable had been her luminous smile, so joyous and bright that it made our home feel that much warmer. I inhaled sharply as my eyes snapped open.

“Mom. Mom. Why’d you have to go?” I whispered, breathless.

“She was sick, Heiress. But I bet she fought every day to be with you.”

“Mom, I want my Mom! I need her. And Toby, Toby… H-He left me and I needed him. He left me. I needed him. I told him not to go but he said he couldn’t stay. I-” I hiccuped a sob and felt another onslaught coming.

“I know. I’m sure he wanted to but your safety means to him more. It does me too.” And just like that a fresh damn of tears broke through and I was dry heaving with the unrelenting heavy sobs that came wave after wave after wave. But through it all, Jameson never let me go.

When I finally came to, I realized I quite literally used Jameson’s shoulder to cry on and the soft material had been his green cashmere sweater that was now soaked. As I swiped at my crusted eyes, I said, “Sorry about your sweater.”

He smiled and shrugged. “I don’t mind. It clearly served a good purpose.” That got him a weak laugh from me. Jameson slowly brought up a hand and wiped at a stray tear before leaning down to kiss my forehead. I watched him warily as he pulled away and frowned when I saw him pull out a handkerchief from his pocket. He used it to gently wipe at the tear tracks on my cheeks.

Once he finished I brought it up. “Since when do you have a need for handkerchiefs, Mr. Darcy?”

He chuckled. “Since I had to start offering to wipe away the tears of young ladies who have been most unconsolable by any other actions. Don’t worry, I don’t make a habit of stealing my brother’s brooding English gentleman aesthetic too often.” I couldn’t help but laugh too.

“Are you feeling better now?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Just didn’t think I had that in me.”

Jameson looked thoughtful for a moment before bringing his hand up again and caressing my cheek. I leaned into it. “You know, far be it from me to tell you what you do or don’t need, but I think you’ve needed to do that for a while. As you said, so much has happened in the last few weeks which your brain hasn’t had time to process and instead it just kept pushing it all aside until this moment.”

“I guess. I just… I miss my mom. I’ve been getting better at acknowledging the fact that she’s, you know… gone after these two years but now all that we’ve found out, it just brought back that feeling so much stronger. And it feels like I’m back at square one.” He nodded solemnly.

“Yup, that seems to be the power of grief. There are days when I feel like the old man is still around and like he’s just about to pop out from any corner. Then I remember he’s not and I lose it. I go into the passages and just walk until I get out and go to the next one until I inevitably end up on the roof.”

I sighed. “I think she would have liked this place. As weird as everything is about you Hawthornes, this seems like her kind of place.”

He huffed amusedly. “Hypocritical much?”

“Potato potahto.” Cue eye rolling. “And I think she would have liked you too.” Jameson looked at me curiously. “Yeah, she would have loved your spontaneity. You two would get along. I think you’d enjoy playing our games and I can see her coming up with more. Although, you’d probably make me go crazy and wonder what I unleashed on the world.”

“At least I know I’d be on your mom’s good side.” I snorted. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Maybe. But then she’d drop not so subtle hints and I would give in eventually because I know she’s right. Don’t think for a second I wouldn’t make you work for it.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“Good. But most of all, I think she’d love your compassion.”

There was silence and then a sharp inhale. “Heiress…”

“You are good. You have a good heart, Jameson Hawthorne.” I didn’t leave room for arguing and narrowed my eyes at him for good measure. Whether he liked it or not, I had told the truth and I was going to make him believe it. “Say what you want but I’m going to repeat it until you believe it. I’ll do what I have to, no matter how long it takes.”

As I finished my grand declaration, he had the audacity to smirk. “Anything?”

“Anything within reason,” I amended with a scowl. He chuckled and then rose up.

“While I’m sure you will and I will more than likely accept defeat one day, there is something you could do for me.” “And what would that be?” I asked suspiciously.

“Well, with it being the holidays and since it’s our first Christmas together, would you mind joining me under the mistletoe, Miss Grambs?” I blinked as I watched him take out a sprig of mistletoe from his sleeve.

He went to the fireplace and somehow tied it to the garland. I got up from my recliner and walked towards him. As soon as I got within range, one of his arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me into him as my hands instinctively went on his chest. Jameson then brought his free hand up and brushed hair out of my face before cupping my cheek. I gazed at his face all the while and admired the way he looked in the soft glow of the fire.

“May I?” I nodded. Slowly, he leaned down and tentatively connected his lips to mine. I closed my eyes and got lost in it, entertaining the fantasy of the mistletoe kiss. I cupped the back of his neck and brought my hand into his hair. His hold at my waist tightened ever so slight. It was slow and gentle and perfect. Too perfect. But even so, just for a moment, I let myself believe we were perfect.

When we parted, I opened my eyes and looked at him, expecting him to be looking back but his eyes were shut. “Jameson?”

“Hmm?”

“You ok?”

“Yeah. Just taking it in Heiress.” When he opened his eyes, he wore a soft smile that made me feel shy again. He kissed the side of my head. “Thank you for that.”

“Oh. You’re welcome,” I said bashfully.

He hummed a reply before speaking up again, “So, what did you think? Does it fulfill your expectation of a mistletoe kiss?”

I shrugged. “I’ve never really cared about that tradition let alone thought about what it’d be like.”

“Fair enough. But I do hope I set a standard for you now.” My eyebrows raised in bemusement. “Hey, you’ve got to let me have something to brag about.” I rolled my eyes.

“What I would like to know is where you got that sprig in the first place.”

“All in due time, all in due time. Patience is an arduous virtue one must learn but conquer nonetheless.”

“Stop philosophizing about something you don’t even have the skill set for.”

“Well, miss, less questions, more kissing. Simple as that.”

“Practice what you preach then, Hawthorne. All I’m hearing is wor-” He shut me up with another kiss and then broke away just as quickly but hovered only a breath away from mine, teasing me before I put a hand to his collar and tugged sharply for him to get on with it. I felt him smile against my mouth and I stood on tiptoe, returning it in kind. We shared a few more kisses, a few playful ones and some just short pecks.

The next time we pulled apart, we were both breathing hard. As Jameson recovered, he ran his fingers through my hair and smiled thoughtfully at me. “What?”

He shook his head. “I was just thinking, despite all the shit that happened this year, turns out it was still a good one. You’re here with me even though I didn’t think that after…” I nodded in understanding.

“Yeah, I get that.” What started out as a terrible year in the trenches with Libby and Drake turned into one of the biggest blessings even with its drawbacks. I had Jameson now and that was all that mattered. As I turned back to him, he pulled me into a warm hug. For a moment we stood like that, just enjoying the comfort it brought before he loosened his hold and broke the silence.

“With a mistletoe sprig and a firelit kiss, the couple started to reminisce, thinking about all that was and all that could be, knowing now they’ve truly become a we, there was room for new merriness and bliss while hoping it would be a very good first Christmas.”

“Whoa there, Sir Moore. What happened to the rest of the poem?”

“Eh, we already got to the good part. Plus, it takes a lot longer when you’re the one trying to make up the rhymes to fit in with the preexisting structure.”

“I thought you said you could make stuff up on the spot.” I giggled until he muffled the laugh by pressing his lips to mine again. “Mmmh.” He smirked when he pulled away.

“Be my guest, Heiress. Let's see what you got.”

I grinned at the challenge. “Once he had finished his part and she admired for a time in his art, her thoughts turned forward, past the New Year’s grandness and wondered how they would fill up their blank canvas.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise. “Impressive. Not bad, not bad. But definitely beginner’s luck.”

“It’s alright not always being up to my speed, Hawthorne.”

“Fine, I shall concede just this once.” I smiled triumphantly. “Merry Christmas, Heiress.” “Merry Christmas, Jamie.” His resulting smile had never been more beautiful or joyous than in that moment. When he leaned in to kiss me again, I really did wonder about the year to come and what it would bring. Let it be a good one, please.

“Merry Christmas, Heiress.”

“Merry Christmas, Jamie.” His resulting smile had never been more beautiful or joyous than in that moment. When he leaned in to kiss me again, I really did wonder about the year to come and what it would bring. Let it be a good one, please.

A/N: See you in the next one! Hopefully will get a few more out before the true end of holidays. Merry Christmas once more and Happy New Year to everyone!!!!!!

#avery kylie grambs #avery grambs #jameson winchester hawthorne #jameson hawthorne #averyjameson #averyjameson fics #the inheritance games fanfics #tig fanfiction #the inheritance games #the hawthorne legacy #tig #thl #Youtube

31 notes · View notes

slothpoth · 3 days ago

Text

Who Arcane Characters Would Like The Most If They Watched Steven Universe + How they started watching

Im going to preface this by saying it may not be 100% accurate, this is my pregame before I rewatch ALL of Steven Universe beginning to SUFuture so why not shove the current interest in?

BY THE WAY: this is them watching no matter what so if you’re like “omfg they would never!!” Now they are. What’re you gonna do? Scroll??

EDIT: IM SO SORRY I MEANT TO PIT A RWADMORE HERE

Jinx

Jinx was a hard Amethyst stan until the movie came out and Spinel ChokedSlammed Her Into The Floor

She started watching because she caught the tail of “So Many Birthdays” (the one where Steven ages and ages and ages) and immediately decided this was her thing now

She gets into arguments online about her favs and she is the one posting getting blocked and bragging about winning the argument

“You can just say you don’t understand characters who are complex, you don’t have to write all this for things we OBVIOUSLY KNOW.”

While Amethyst and Spinel are her favs, she will go to BAT for any character being mischaracterized

Do not let her catch you talking shit about Mx.Lapis Lazuli, she will Hurt You.

Speaking of people with will Hurt You, Vi does not play about Steven Quartz Cutiepie Demayo Universe.

Vi started after multiple instances of Jinx ranting to her inconsistently for hours about arguments she gets into online

Like Jinx bursts into the room like “Vi, These people couldn’t fucking comprehend media if there was a gun to their head, and Yknow what? I’m putting it there” and Vi is hooked

“Oh my god…..they are stupid…” “THATS WHAT IM SAYING” I kinda hc that vi is the type that likes hearing about drama no matter where it comes from it just has to be juicy

One time Jinx called Steven a normie favorite character pick and Vi then went on a 95 minute rant about how kind and sensitive he is

“Steven is a sensitive and kind boy who tries his best no matter the circumstances, even if he fails he still tries to be good. You have NO RIGHT to act like he’s some—“ “ VI OH MY GOD NEVERMIND IM SORRY, WE’VE BEEN HERE FOR AN HOUR PLEASE LET ME GO”

Vi kins Steven Universe and SU Future made her ugly sob with chest pain

Caitlyn

Caitlyn likes Pearl because the lesbian yearning over their ex to nerdy fem who can pull without trying storyline intrigued her deeply.

Originally Jinx compared her to Pearl because Jinx thinks she’s prissy and overbearing, this made Caitlyn block all official Steven universe accounts on every piece of social media.

Later Vi compared her to Pearl because Vi thinks she tries her best to help everyone even if she makes mistakes sometimes, thsi and Caitlyn unblock some Steven Universe accounts and watch alongside Vi sometimes

She doesn’t end up watching the show from the beginning, she just asks Vi questions and Vi explains how something fits into the story

“Why does Lapis despise Peridot so much? She’s like half her size if she’s an issue push her over” “Well Peridot reminds her of her trauma of being constantly used wherever she goes and never living for herself, she’d just be constantly triggered like she has been for thousands of years” “ohh… why don’t they just build a second place on the land?” “Cause the barn is cool” “ah,, makes sense.”

Any mention in the show about Pearl having a bunch of people’s numbers and Caitlyn is out of her chair cheering.

Ekko

Ekko is a fan of Bismuth and he’ll tell everyone else that it’s because the crystal gem rebellion was super interesting to him but deep inside his interest was first peaked because he finds the Bismuth puns genuinely funny like he guffaws at every one.

He started watching when Jinx showed him the clip of Steven having to poof Bismuth, and he made sure to go back through the series to really get what’s going on.

When the cluster was introduced he was appalled like this is the world’s greatest home-world hater, like he was even iffy on peridot for a whole extra season it was so bad

“At least she’s trying to redeem herself?” “I don’t care if she stops homeworld by herself I Don’t Like Her.”

The Diamond arc? Oh he is SAT for every episode and he is HEATED. He’s getting them (Jinx + family) sound complaints cause he keeps pausing to complain about whoever happens to be on screen

*blue diamond starts speaking* *insta pause* “AND HERE COMES THIS ONE.” “EKKO FOR FUCKS SAKE LET THE SHOW PLAY”

Ekko thinks the diamonds got off easy and drew a comic (that he keeps to himself and jinx) about how HE would’ve ended the show (it’s 48 pages)

Mel

Connie is so special to Mel, so special she sees herself in Connie so much that’s her daughter

Any scenes where Connie and her mom are clashing? Mel is pouring almost obsessively over the scenes just “oh my god…..oh,,,my god,,,” like if Mel had a kinlist?? Oh yeah. Absolutely.

She actually keeps pretty good track of animation projects and new series so she’s been watching since the beginning. The pitch of sentient rocks living around and with this half human half rock boy? Yeah she was definitely intrigued

And now emotionally wrecked, like she saw a clip of season 1 Steven while presently on the homeworld arc and almost fell to her knees her BABY

Auntie!Mel bonds with Jinx and Vi over it when visiting their house its like:

“Mel, if you wanted to run away from your home and ended up hurting people in the process, wouldn’t you take accountability for that?” “Well that depends on who I hurt.” “Let’s say you leave someone in a garden for like mmm random number six thousand years—“ “Spinel has full reason to be upset, I’d do worse if I were her” “RIGHT???”

“Whyre you and Jinx arguing? Aren’t you a bit old for the silent treatment?” “She keeps calling me basic for liking Steven.” “Steven? The character on a slow creep to a world terrorizing meltdown?” “RIGHT.” “Vi, not everyone you meet will have good taste like you and me, I’m so sorry”

She does think Jinx terrorizing online spaces is a little funny but is trying to be responsible and won’t tell her that outright

And by not tell her she means trying not to roll over laughing hearing Jinx read out the arguments

Sevika

If you asked Sevika why she liked Jasper, she’d say something like “I too have been forever changed by a lesbian relationship” or “smash.”

If you asked Sevika while she’s in a sad drunk mood she wouldn’t verbally answer and just mentally spiral about the perfect solider who keeps losing and losing and losing and losing and—don’t refill her cup, Sevika is going home, don’t call her damn phone, she’s busy

In this modern scenario, her and Jinx are still coworkers so when Jinx is watching video essays or character compilations on her breaks, Sevika will walk by and either stand and watch an intense part or make fun of what’s on screen

*Jasper climbs up the side of a boat to beg on her knees for Lapis to re-fuse* “ohh I’ve been there before,” “She’s begging her to reform into an eight armed monster where they constantly fought for dominance in the headspace at the bottoms of the ocean because Lapis— the blue one— didn’t want Jasper— the orange one— to kill Steven— the boy one.” “oh yeah no, me too (wtf??)”

Overtime Jinx started to refer to Jasper as Sevika’s favorite and kept giving her vague updates on her condition, that being said Sevika rewatched the entire series and future when she heard news of Jasper’s Shattering

“They shattered your goat.” “What goat??” *shows photo of Jasper’s shatter gem in Steven’s hand* “IS THAT FUCKING JASPER????”

Like she didn’t even wanna talk about what happened afterward she blocked Jinx and started watching immediately, Sevika was getting to the bottom of this (of what?? We have no clue she’s hurt rn)

Sevika will not discuss the emotional impact Steven Universe had on her. You’d have to have her at gunpoint and chemically paralyzed.

#arcane #arcane hcs #arcane headcanon #Steven universe #jinx #jinx arcane #vi #vi arcane #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn arcane #ekko #ekko arcane #mel medarda #mel arcane #Sevika #sevika arcane #modern au #kinda?? idk #I wanna make my own i think it’d be fun

39 notes · View notes

sahrii · 3 days ago

Note

hii can i get a posy bouquet with 9 purple hyacinths? i’d love to give it to atsumu :) you can choose fem or gn reader it doesnt matter to me!

I'm stupid !

atsumu miya x fem!reader

warnings! enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, atsumu being stupid (like always), also atsumu being so downbeat but fumbling, reader does hate or like him but he annoyed her, cussing, word vomit I lowk don't like how I wrote this sorry guys. word vomit 😭.

word count! 1234 words.

check out other fics for my 100 followers event. @snoopysarchive

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

the squeaks of worn-out sneakers bewilderingly echoed across the walls of the gym hall. the sound of balls hitting the walls, the floor and the palms of many different hands all at the same time created an uproar of chaos confined within four big walls. and a whistle was all it took for it to come to a halt.

“good work guys! That’s enough for today” the coach semi-yelled. “I’ll see you next time tomorrow for the afternoon practice match,” the squeaks of the same sneakers started yet again but came out a little softer than before, then began fading away as the players trickled out of the doors.

you began gathering the volleyballs peppered across the gym’s floor and putting them back into their designated carts. it wasn’t the most exciting thing, but nonetheless, it was your job.

with careful footsteps, you started moving the first wheeled cart back into the storage room which was across from the lockers. as you are pushing the cart, you heard loud murmurs of complaints from what seemed like the new freshmen in the team.

“seriously, what’s so great about him anyway?” one of the freshmen muttered.

“yeah,” another chimed in. “i don’t get it. dude acts like he owns the team just ’cause he’s the coach’s favourite,”

“right? the guy thinks he’s hot shit just ‘cause he can serve,” a third voice added, accompanied by a snicker. “bet he spends more time on his hair than he does practicing.”

your footsteps abruptly stopped. it was an involuntary move. you didn’t know why you stopped, but you did. and it didn’t take a genius to figure out who they were talking about.

atsumu miya was who they were talking about. atsumu miya who wasn’t particularly someone you got along with. atsumu miya who’s voice dripped with eery sarcasm every time he spoke to you. atsumu miya who you thought was good looking, but sometimes, looks are not the only thing that matters.

your hands gripped the cart’s handle tighter. you cleared your throat and thought about it. you thought about how this was probably a bad idea, how atsumu didn’t even deserve any kind of defense from you. about if they were talking about you, you’d turn and leave. why were you even about to say something? why were you going to tell them to shut up? you considered walking away, but you couldn’t.

“you there,” you called out with a steady, almost indifferent voice. but in reality you were annoyed. you almost picked up a ball from the many you had in the cart and swung it at one of their pity faces.

they all slightly jumped back, snapping their necks towards you. “y—yes?” one of them answered.

“help me out with this instead of talking crap about your senior whos’ been working his ass off for a few years now,” you began. you were annoyed. you didn’t know why, but you were.

“uh—we didn’t—”

“you’re in the same team,” you added, patience wearing thin. “help me out with the balls, there are still some left in the gym hall, I need to go collect the water bottles,” your tight grip on the handle was released. your heels turned to walk away from them. Once you reached the quiet gym hall, where nothing but your beating heart can be heard, she leaned onto the wall. you placed a hand on your chest and let out a shaky breath.

you weren’t a confrontational person, not usually, at least. so why had you defended atsumu like that? why did you let their words get to you? you didn’t know the answer, and yet, your heart was still pounding, like it might burst right out of your chest.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

for some reason, after the incident, atsumu miya decided to live rent free in your head. Him—or the thought of him—accompanied you on way too many occasions for your own liking. Lingering at night till the very last moments your eyes decide to give in to sleep. Greeting you on both bright and gloomy mornings the moment your eyes fly wide open. You started noticing things you’d give absolutely no mind to on normal days. But normal days are never coming back.

You started noticing how the sleeve of his shirt tightly hung around his bicep. How he’d run his fingers through his hair after every ball he served. How his earthy eyes become accompanied with a hint of gold and shooting stars every time the palm of his hand touched a ball.

You started noticing things and you didn’t particularly like that. You found yourself staring a little longer than usual and you didn’t particularly like that. You started hearing your heart whispering encrypted murmurs that you couldn’t even decipher, and you didn’t particularly like that. you were confused and slightly irritated and you didn’t particularly like that. You felt shooting stars pooling in your stomach the moment your eyes found his blonde hair. You didn’t particularly like that. 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

[note: these were all on separate days]

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

it's been a few days since what atsumu calls the biggest fumble in history. he couldn’t wrap his head around how he’d managed to mess up that badly. you hadn’t replied back after that. not that night, not the next day. and now, three days later, he hadn’t even been able to catch you long enough to apologize. every time he tried, you either avoided him completely or made up some excuse to slip away.

you weren’t cruel about it. no cold stares or harsh words. just silence. and somehow, that made it worse.

atsumu thought about texting you again, but every time he tried, his mind played tricks on him. what if he said the wrong thing again? what if he made it worse? he could barely focus on practice, and it wasn’t going unnoticed.

He was now at the gym, practicing—or trying to practice.

atsumu tried not to look at you. he really did. but his eyes betrayed him, wandering back to where you were leaning against the wall, staring intently at the clipboard in your hands.

he didn’t even notice the ball hurtling toward him until it was too late.

smack.

the impact was sharp and sudden, sending atsumu stumbling backward. his hand shot up to his forehead as pain bloomed across his skin.

“oi, dumbass! what are you doing?” osamu barked, jogging over to him.

“sorry,” atsumu mumbled, his voice low.

osamu sighed, smacking atsumu’s shoulder—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to snap him out of it. “what’s wrong with you? it’s like you don’t even wanna be here.”

atsumu didn’t respond, his eyes darting toward you again. this time, you were looking at him.

he froze.

your eyes met his for the first time in days, and he couldn’t read your expression. it wasn’t anger—he was sure of that—but it wasn’t forgiveness either.

you quickly looked away, your face unreadable as you turned back to the clipboard in your hands.

His heart was palpitating in his throat—he almost threw it up. Guilt was nibbling at his very skin and he wished he’d melt and become one with the floor.

“yeah, that’s what i thought,” osamu muttered, following atsumu’s gaze. “just fix it already, man.”

atsumu didn’t respond, but the words stuck with him. 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu atsumu #miya atsumu x y/n #miya atsumu x you #atsumu miya x reader #miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu!! y/n #sahri’s 100 followers event!

25 notes · View notes

femboychuuya · 1 day ago

Text

Soooo, here we are, a New Year

Now, this post will be different than my usual art Posts i do. A few days before the New Year hit i got kind of reminded that Art Summaries exist.

Usually people only put one Art in, i think its the "best" one which they like the most, i think.

Though i wasn't able to decide for only 1 piece for each Month, so let me take you through my whole 2024 Art Journey!

- - - ☆

Starting off, i was 19 when i started Art. Back in May was when i came up to my beloved now girlfriend Kiera and asked for Advice on Drawing and told her that i wanted to start Art.

I chose to start with Hands. (albeit i did not include those visually in my Summary)

Hands were.... well.... hands. Kiera sended me a few Videos on how to draw, recommending me a German Youtuber called DrawingLikeASir. This is where i got my basic understanding on how hands (and also Human Anatomy as a whole) work and how to draw them.

I'm very grateful that people who do Art for a long time already, share and make Tutorials to follow. It's alot easier for me when i have real time visual explanation, so DLAS's Video's really helped me alot.

Besides those Videos, Kiera gave me alot of help too. She would give me tips if my Anatomy was off, help me fixing it via voice chat or messaging and overall just helped me understand Art to the extent that i then started to do it more regularly and frequently.

- - - ☆

Now, after this Yapfest, how about we take a deep dive into my Art?

This will be the longest part, but i do have alot to share actually....

Let's start with May !

I don't have any visuals here, so i will keep this brief.

In May was the first time i actually tried learning how to draw. I did start with Hands first. Why you may ask? Because i wanted to tackle one of the presumably worst things to draw. I did a basic fanned out Hand for a few times before i started drawing Hands around things. I felt comfortable very fast with how i drew Hands back then. And that was my May more or less.

June !

Let's get a nice Picture of June out, because June is the Month i started to learn Human Anatomy. It sucked.

I tried learning Human Anatomy after i felt confident enough with hands. I experimented around a bit, tried drawing either masculine or feminine body Types, but i did struggle with both. In the end, i tried settling for more androgenous Body Types. Those were alot easier for me, and Kiera did tell me that they can be easy to work with, since i can basically "shape them like i want". So i went with it.

Pretty much my June was occupied with learning to draw a whole Human Body.

July !

In July i made alot of Progress i think, this was my Prime time for learning how Bodies work. I took Ideas from other people i've interacted with, tried a DTIYS (Do this in your Style), created a small sketch page, participated in Rimlaine Week and also started to do Digital Art!

Now, starting Digital Art was hard, it still is for me after roughly 6 months. My missfortune was, i had no pen for my Tablet. I needed to learn how to Finger Draw. It was really taxing and unforgiving on my Hand, but i still pushed through it and gave my best. I didn't wanted to stop with Digital Art just because i had no pen.

Eventually, at some point (actually 2 points, one later though) I had a pen that worked, though it broke, both of them did. So i just stayed with Finger Art.

It honestly feels more natural for me to use my Finger by now and i think i actually want to stay drawing with my Finger for now. Unless i actually get a pen that doesn't break imidiatly.

August !

Short things for August: I had an Artblock. I managed to find 1 whole picture for August.

I can't really say anything more here i fear.

September !

September.... I tried alot of new things in September! Brushes, bigger Canvases, even rendering (not visually included)

September was a nice month. I made alot of progress, pushed my comfort zones and met ALOT of great Artist's!

I tried alot of new things. Posing, shitpost doodles, multiple people, character sheets, the Nasty Dog trend (i had fun doing that) and also tried to participate in dazai hurt/comfort week, i couldn't finish it due to personal reasons.

In September, i joined a Soukoku Discord Server which is run by Kaez. I joined there with intent of talking about SKK and it developed into active talking and Art Streams nearly daily! I got ALOT and i mean ALOT of good advice and tips on how to draw from more experienced Artist's!

It truly helped me find my Artstyles and Tools i can use on my drawings.

I am very thankful that my girlfriend sended me the link to Kaez's post about this server, it has been alot of fun there and was very educational aswell!

October !

In October i still was drawing nearly every day and started to draw Characters from Kiera's and mine own Story! I also experimented with Artstyles and Chuuya's hair. His Hair was a mess, it still is, but drastically changed the way i draw his hair in that month.

I specifically also tried to stylize eyes, it failed mostly but i still tried regardless (Eyes and facial expression are hard to draw, i learned the hard way)

November !

November was the Month where i started drawing (and writing) my first AU! My 14 Year old's BunnySkk AU!

I am very proud of those beans and all i had in my brain were those 2. I did inflict pain and suffering and great Trauma on Skk, but fear not, they are well now... or are they?

Lastly, December !

Going strong with the last Month of the year, I struggled, greatly. I had alot of personal Issues coming up, but went through those with trying to do art. Art really helped me get my mind off things, due to me not having a single thought while drawing (My head is a blank slate while i draw)

But besides those struggles, i got cheered on to keep going and so i did. I delivered Art from a Ship i was first very reluctant to draw things in fear of people being well.... online people. But i eventually overcame myself and started drawing my second favourite ship... Kunichuuzai!! I absolutely love their dynamic and can't wait to get back into drawing them. I need them. Carnally.

- - - ☆

Now now, this is probably as long as it can get now, so i will try to keep myself short here. (Try is the keyword, i am a yapper at Heart)

First and foremost, i will be thanking Kiera @misterloong , for even getting and pushing me into Art. I don't think that i would have been able to accomplish what i am doing currently without your great help and Feedback!! And thank you for putting up with my sometimes breakdowns over Art, its hard and we both know that.

Secondly, i am thanking Kaez @xkaez for creating the Skk Server. I don't think i would have had such a fun time over the last months while doing art if it wasn't for sitting together in vc with everyone and equally loosing our heads over Art together. The Art struggle is real but worth it.

Third..ly? Third?.... Leaving it at that. I am thanking the VC Dwellers Soup @iwantmochisoup , Goat @thatghostinyourbog , Jema @msshinylemon , Salt @saltedbiscuiit and Killeia @nolongerforthetainted . I am thanking you all for sitting in vc together, planning things, working together on thing and just having a fun time together! I learned a shitton, and i mean a shitton from being together in VC, drawing, talking or just hanging out together. I really hope this never dies out, its really fun with you all!!

Fourthly.... Fourth....? I am thanking Rosie @anticidic , Cinny @ohhcinnybuns , Ari @nevertheblood, Brin @ediblepandas and Cryptid @cryptid-juzou for giving me alot of Ideas and talking about all the ideas you guys had. It's always fun to lurk at night in the chats and see good ideas spring in. It might be one of my favourite pastimes aswell to just lurk in :)

And Lastly, i thank everyone else who i forgot to mention, whether its Skk server people, random online people, my mom or literally anyone who sees my stuff. I thank you for being here and supporting my Art Journey in any way you can. It has been a fun half Year of doing Art and i am so hyped for creating a full year of Art this year!!

I hope everyone who wants to do Art, starts doing Art, same with Writing or whatever other creative hobbies there are. It will bring you fun and can potentially even help you express yourself more.

On to a new Year

- West

- - - ☆

Adding on:

2 more Chibi doodles for making it to the end :>

#Happy New Years #This is sappy and probably poorly written grammar wise #don't lunge at me guys #besides anthing thank you for everything #may the new year treat us all well #also i cringed at looking at my old art #i hope i dont need to see it again LMAO

21 notes · View notes

winchestersisterimaginessss · 2 days ago

Text

Request: hi hi hi!!!! Ugh your writing is so so so so good, it always makes me feel something I can’t explain omgomgomg. Can you maybe write one where she has also been to hell and when she comes back she’s not sure what’s real or what isn’t like she’s hallucinating and thinks the demons are going to take her back to hell to torture her so she fights against sam and Dean because she’s in a panic and she accidentally breaks her arm or something during everything and they have to comfort her?? THANKS!!

A/N: omg thank you so much?!?! I LOVE THAT. This is such a great idea and I hope you love it!! Requests are always open you can literally flood my inbox with them. I love reading every single one. I would love if you guys gave me feedback on whether you liked what I wrote or not so it helps me in the future. You can be totally honest it’s okay, but please comment and let me know!!

I was drowning. Drowning in darkness, in screams, in blood.

The world around me had turned to fire, and my heart was pounding in my ears, drowning out all reason. All I could hear were the voices—the twisted whispers of demons, mocking and tormenting. The air was thick with the scent of sulfur and rot, and I could feel their hands on me, dragging me through the inferno again. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t escape.

I was there again. In Hell. In that cold, suffocating cage, with my arms bound and burning, my chest torn open by the relentless torture. The voices of demons were laughing. They were everywhere.

“No, no, please—get away from me!” My breath was ragged, my hands trembling as I gripped the knife I had found somewhere in the darkness. The cold steel felt like my only weapon, my only hope, as I fought to hold it steady.

“Stay away, stay away!” I shrieked, my voice raw from the screaming, from the panic. The knife was shaking in my hand, the blade glinting in the dim light of the room. But I couldn’t see the room. All I could see were the flames, the charred bodies of the demons I’d fought so hard to escape. No, no, no. They’re still here. They’re still here. They’re coming for me again.

The cold metal of the knife felt like the only thing keeping me grounded, the only thing that kept me from falling back into that endless darkness.

But then there was a sound—loud, frantic footsteps—growing closer.

“Y/N!?” The door slammed open, and I heard Dean’s voice, full of panic. “Y/N, what the hell are you doing!?”

I whipped my head around, my eyes wide with terror. But I wasn’t looking at them. I was looking at them—the demons. They were standing in the shadows, their faces contorted in that sick, twisted grin.

“Get away!” I screamed again, the knife raised, the world a blur of distorted, nightmarish shadows. The room spun, the walls closing in. I wasn’t here with them. I was back in that place. I was back in Hell.

“Kid, put the knife down! You’re not there anymore!” Dean’s voice cracked with desperation. But the words didn’t make sense. They couldn’t make sense. They were demons. They were coming to drag me back. They were coming.

“I’m not going back!” I cried out, my voice trembling, panicked. “I won’t go back, please, please no more. Please, not again.”

“Y/N, listen to me! You’re not there anymore, kid!” Dean shouted, his voice stern but laced with worry. “You’re not in Hell. You’re with us, okay? You’re safe.”

But it didn’t matter. I was too far gone. I could see their faces in the dark corners of the room, their bloodshot eyes staring at me, the demon marks carved into their skin. They were circling me.

I swung the knife wildly, my breath coming in ragged gasps. I had to protect myself. I had to.

“Y/N, no! Stop!” Sam’s voice—so soft, so full of fear and understanding—came from the doorway now too. “We know, bug. We know what it feels like to be trapped. But you’re not there, you’re with us.”

But I couldn’t hear him. I couldn’t hear anything but the maddening buzz of my panic. The darkness, the fire, the heat, the screams—they consumed me, and I needed to fight back. I was going to die in this place if I didn’t.

My hands were shaking, my eyes darting around the room. I couldn’t see them. I couldn’t see anything clearly.

I swung again. But this time—this time, I didn’t just swing at the shadows. I swung at them. At my brothers.

“Y/N! Stop!” Dean cried out, barely dodging the knife as I lunged forward, my body shaking with violent tremors.

But I was lost. I was lost to the hallucinations, to the burning, to the cold steel of the blade. I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t hear them. My head felt like it was splitting in two.

“Please! Please don’t hurt me!” I screamed. “I can’t go back. I can’t…”

They both rushed toward me at the same time, each of them trying to hold me back. Sam’s hands reached for my wrists, but in the chaos of it all—his hand slipped. In the scramble, trying to get the knife away from me, my body twisted and contorted in a way that sent shockwaves of pain down my arm.

There was a sickening crack, and everything came to a screeching halt.

I screamed in agony. The pain. It was like my whole arm was on fire. It was a sound I couldn’t control, an uncontrollable wail that came from deep in my chest. My breath caught as the excruciating pain took over.

“Y/N!” Dean’s voice cracked, filled with terror, and he immediately dropped to his knees beside me. “Shit, shit, kiddo, I’m so sorry…”

I didn’t hear him. The world was spinning. My wrist—my wrist—was broken. The bone was snapped, bent at a sickening angle, and I couldn’t stop staring at it, frozen in terror.

My heart raced. My head spun. The pain was unbearable, and I could barely understand what was real anymore. I was in Hell. I had to be. My wrist was twisted like it had been ripped off. It was like I could still feel the flames on my skin.

“Where am I? Where am I?” I sobbed, my voice broken. The words were coming out in gasps. “What happened? Please…It’s burning!” You cried out.

“You’re not in Hell,” Sam whispered softly, his voice calm but strained with worry. He was kneeling in front of me, his hands warm on my face, trying to pull me from the chaos in my head. “You’re not there, sweetheart. You’re with us. You’re safe, okay? You’re safe.”

I shook my head, tears pouring down my cheeks. “I’m not… I’m not…”

“Yes, you are. You’re not in Hell anymore, Y/N,” Dean added, his voice thick with emotion. He was holding my other hand now, his fingers wrapped tight around mine as he leaned over, trying to comfort me despite the terrifying look in my eyes. “We’ve got you. You’re not alone, kiddo.”

The world was still spinning. The pain was suffocating. The pain in my wrist, the broken, twisted bone was all I could focus on now.

“Please… please it hurts.” I whimpered, trying to pull my arm away. The reality of my injury was too much. It didn’t feel real. I was still in Hell. I had to be.

“Don’t look at it, bug,” Sam urged softly, his hand gently coaxing mine away from the broken wrist. “Just breathe, okay? Breathe with me.”

I tried to steady myself, but my body trembled so violently I could barely catch my breath. I was hyperventilating, each gasp feeling like a knife to my lungs. I felt like I was suffocating, drowning in my own panic.

“You’re okay,” Dean whispered, brushing his hand through my hair, his voice low and soothing. “You’re alright, kiddo. We’re here. You’re home.”

“Just breathe, sweetheart,” Sam whispered, his voice gentle, but firm, as he carefully took my wrist in his hands. “We’ve got you. We’ll fix this. You’re going to be okay.”

The pain in my wrist was still unbearable, but Sam and Dean were here. They were with me, and that made the terror in my chest start to subside—just a little. I was still shaking, still crying, but they were here. They weren’t leaving.

They would never leave.

“Please… help me… please,” I whispered, the tears coming faster. “I can’t… I can’t…”

Sam and Dean didn’t hesitate. Dean held my hand firmly, keeping me grounded as Sam carefully began to wrap my wrist, fixing it the best he could. He was so gentle, but every movement felt like another shockwave of agony.

“Easy, sweetheart,” Sam murmured, his voice steady as he worked. “You’re doing good, okay? Just a little more.”

I sobbed uncontrollably, my body trembling as the pain throbbed in my wrist. But Sam’s voice was steady, and Dean’s hand in mine was a lifeline.

I wasn’t alone.

“We’ve got you, kiddo. You’re safe now. We’re here,” Dean said, his voice full of raw emotion.

And despite the pain, despite the fear, I let myself believe them. Maybe I could be okay.

With them, maybe I could find my way back.

24 notes · View notes

sequinsmile-x · 3 days ago

Text

You and Me, Forevermore

Three consecutive New Years Eve's that Emily and Aaron spend together.

-x-

Hi besties!

This is very soft, sweet, largely pointless and just a way of me saying thank you for all the love and support from you all this year. This fandom may be small, but it's lovely and wonderful and I adore every single one of you. This is my favourite corner of the internet <3

Writing is my favourite thing to do in the world, and anytime anyone tells me a fic of mine has made them smile, or cry or it's simply provided a distraction in this increasingly horrid world we live in, it makes my day.

Thank you for being here, and I'll continue to be here writing about our favourite idiots for years to come.

For the last time in 2024, please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: some alcohol consumption, largely just them being soft idiots in love

Words: 4.5k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily had never been a fan of New Year's parties.

Of all the parties she’d grown up going to do they had been her least favourite. Long nights where she’d been nothing but an ornament her mother put on display so her friends could tell Emily how much she’d grown in a year, how much she looked like her mother as they asked questions they didn’t care about the answer to just to pass the time.

She loved the holidays, she always had, but New Year's itself had always felt like an anticlimax. All the promises of being a better person, of making better choices, were gone before January was over. It only ever seemed to feed into the artificial life she’d grown up in where no one said what they actually thought, and no one spoke about anything that felt genuinely important.

This year felt different.

She smiles as she looks around Dave’s house, at the team scattered amongst his other friends and acquaintances, and she thinks this might be the first New Year’s party she’d truly enjoy.

“Princess,” Derek says, getting her attention as he approaches her and Penelope, his smile wide and posture relaxed, “Where’s your guy? I thought you two were glued at the hip these days.”

She rolls her eyes but can’t fight her smile, and she looks over her shoulder and smiles as her eyes catch Aaron’s where he’s standing at the bar, and she gives him a small wave, “He’s getting me a drink.”

Penelope squeals, like she always did when she encountered Emily and Aaron’s relationship outside of work, and she quickly clears her throat, “Sorry, I’m still not used to how cute you two are.”

“Please don’t call Hotch cute,” Derek replies, faking a shudder as he sips his beer and winks at Emily, “I can’t picture him that way.”

If Derek had made that comment even a few months ago, Emily would have felt her shackles rise. Out of everyone, he’d been the one to take the news of her and Aaron’s relationship the hardest. It took him several weeks to get used to the idea, for his snide comments to slowly give way, and it had driven her crazy. She’d talked to him about it more than once, and had come away from that conversation upset each time. She’d had to tell Aaron to not get involved, sure that the two men butting heads would only make matters worse, and she knew it had been hard for him to see her upset by one of her closest friends not accepting a relationship that made her happier than she had ever been.

She still didn’t know what had truly got through to Derek. If he finally saw that both she and Aaron deserved this after everything they’d been through with Ian and Foyet respectively, if he saw that she was a different person when she came back from Paris and Aaron helped her find herself again, or if he’d taken the time to watch them together when they thought no one was looking. If he’d seen the way they cared for each other and understood each other.

Or if, what Emily thought was the most likely, Penelope had finally called him out on his bullshit and told him to get himself together.

“But they are cute,” Penelope says, turning to look at Emily, “Right?”

She chuckles and shrugs, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she tries to answer in a way she knows won’t embarrass her boyfriend. Because they were cute. Sickeningly in love with each other in a way that would make her turn her nose up if she read about it in a book or saw it in a movie, and the worst part was she loved it. She loved him and knew she always would.

“Here you go, sweetheart.”

She smiles and turns as Aaron’s hand skims her lower back and lands on her hip. He hands her a glass of champagne and she kisses him, “Thanks, honey.”

“Oh god,” Derek says, scrunching his nose up in mock disgust, “I think I preferred it when you were pretending you weren’t in love with each other.”

“I didn’t,” Penelope quips, her smile wide as she watches them, “I think it’s sweet.”

Emily feels Aaron tense next to her, any progress that he’d made on relaxing around their friends, with the help of alcohol and her insistence that everything was fine, undone in a matter of seconds. She makes a point of leaning further into him, her arm looping around his waist as she kisses his jaw and then his cheek, smiling against his skin when it’s enough to relax him a little. She pulls back and looks at their friends, her eyebrow raised in a mix of amusement and defiance at the contrasting looks on their faces.

“Derek, it’s New Year's Eve, this is a party,” she holds up her glass of champagne, “This is my…”

“Fourth,” Aaron offers as she trails off, and she smiles up at him again, the soft smile she gets in return mixed in with the alcohol enough for her to briefly forget the point she was trying to make.

“Right, thanks honey,” she looks back at Derek and Penelope again, “This is my fourth drink. I’m going to get a little drunk and a little handsy with my boyfriend, okay?” She can’t deny that she doesn’t get a kick out of how Aaron briefly tightens his hold on her or how Derek scrunches his nose up, “If you don’t like that, I think thats your problem.”

“Chill out, princess, I was only joking.”

She sticks her tongue out at him and smiles, letting him know that she is too, mostly. Then she turns in Aaron’s embrace and smiles at him, cupping his cheek and pulling him in for a kiss. It was almost midnight, almost the start of a year she was looking forward to for once, and she wanted some time alone with the man she loves.

“Let’s go find the guy with the tray of those mini desserts,” she says, grateful when he immediately nods, his smile soft and loving as he reaches for her hand and links their fingers together.

He looks at Derek and Penelope, “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year, sir. Hotch.” Penelope replies, her smile sparkling with mischief as she looks at Emily directly “Don’t desecrate Dave’s home office. Again.”

Emily widens her eyes and ignores Aaron’s gaze burning into her side, “Pen. What happened to what is said on girl's night, stays on girl’s night?”

Penelope has the decency to look embarrassed and she holds her glass higher, “Sorry, it’s the champagne, it’s like truth serum.”

“Come on, sweetheart,” Aaron says, his hand on Emily’s hip as he leads her away from their friends, his smile and the spark in his eyes letting her know he isn’t mad at her, “Let’s go before any more details about our sex life come out.”

She nods and lets him lead her away, leaning into his side as they weave through the pockets of people all scattered around Dave’s house, “Sorry, baby,” she says, stamping a kiss against his jacket, “Pen and her big mouth.”

He hums, his eyes soft and loving as he comes to a stop and wraps his arms around her, “Do I even want to know how our sex life came up in conversation?”

“You know what she’s like, she wants to know everything,” she replies, hooking an arm around the back of his neck, “And she knows how to get me to talk,” she says, pressing her lips together when he simply raises an eyebrow at her, “She tried to imply that you’re…,” she looks around them and makes sure no one can overhear them, her cheeks warm with the alcohol thrumming under her skin and embarrassment that Penelope had played her so well, “Vanilla in the bedroom.”

He laughs, loud and bright and beautiful, and he shakes his head lovingly at her before he kisses her, “Sweetheart, it’s sweet that you want to defend me, but I think I can live with Garcia thinking I’m boring in bed.”

Her response is cut off as someone yells that the ball in Times Square is dropping, and that the countdown has begun. She smiles as Aaron tugs at her hand and pulls her into the empty hallway, the sound of the crowd counting down from ten following them. She leans against the wall and encourages him closer, her hand on his shoulder as his nose knocks against hers, something that draws a sound she refuses to call a giggle out of her as the countdown continues.

“Three, two, one. Happy New Year!”

She kisses him, sighing into it as she tastes champagne and her future on his tongue, and she smiles when they break apart, her forehead resting against his as his breath skips across her face.

“Happy New Year, sweetheart.”

She cups the back of his neck and tugs him in for another kiss, her reply lost against his lips, “Happy New Year, honey.”

___

She’s making a cup of tea when the doorbell rings. She walks out of the kitchen and calls up the stairs, smiling when she already hears a door being thrown open. “Jack, that will be your Aunt Jess. Say goodbye to your dad and then come down here.”

“Coming, Emily!”

When she answers the door Jess pulls her into a hug, “Happy New Year!”

“Happy New Year,” she replies, stepping back to let Jess into the house, “Jack is on his way.”

“How’s the patient?” Jess asks, smiling when Emily groans and rolls her eyes.

“Hard work, as you’d expect,” Emily replies, shaking her head as she thinks of Aaron, “He was insistent that we go to our friend’s New Year party until about 30 minutes ago when he almost passed out getting out of bed.”

Aaron had woken up not feeling well a couple of days ago. At first, he’d tried to play it off, say it was just a cold, but it quickly became clear it was the flu. Somehow, they’d managed to make sure Jack hadn’t caught it so he was still able to go and spend New Year’s with Jess and Roy like he always did. Emily was just grateful that the flu had waited until after Christmas to take down her giant, cuddly, whiny man, because it meant that they’d been able to enjoy the day in their new home. They’d moved in back in November, a busy time of year anyway in amongst Aaron’s birthday and Thanksgiving, and she loved it. It was a home, the first one she’d ever truly had, and she knew that had nothing to do with the house that they knew was perfect for them the moment they first saw it.

“Good luck to you then,” Jessica replies, and Jack runs over, sliding in his socks on the hardwood floor towards them.

“Hi, Aunt Jess!” He says excitedly, handing his bag to her as he slips on his shoes, “Is Grandpa excited? I want to tell him all about Christmas and what Dad and Emily got me.”

Jess nods and exchanges a look over the top of his head with Emily. Roy’s feelings about Aaron moving on, about him starting a new life when Haley couldn’t, were well known. He wasn’t particularly polite to Emily whenever he spent time with them as a family, something that she knew embarrassed Jess to no end.

“He’s so excited to see you, buddy,” she replies diplomatically, “Now, say goodbye to Emily.”

Jack nods and hugs Emily, his arms tight around her as she leans down to hug him back. When he pulls back to look at her, the excitement he’d had moments ago is gone, replaced with concern that makes her ache.

“What’s wrong, kiddo?” She asks, pushing his hair from his forehead, smiling when it flops right back down.

“Is Daddy going to be okay?” He asks, his gaze drifting to the stairs, “He looked sick and I don’t have to go.”

She smiles at him, his endless empathy and kindness, despite everything he’d already been through, one of the many, many things she loved about him, “I’ll look after him, I promise,” she says, kissing his cheek, “You know he wants you to go have fun.”

Jack nods, still looking unsure, “And you’ll be okay?”

“I’ll be okay,” she replies, hugging him again, exchanging a smile with Jess over his shoulder when she looks up at her, “I promise.”

“Okay,” he replies, “I love you, Emmy.”

She squeezes him tightly for a moment, overwhelmed by a type of love that she never thought she’d get to feel before she pulls back to look at him, “I love you too, Jack.”

He hugs her one more time before he leaves, and she and Jess exchange one too as they discuss when she’ll bring Jack back home the following day. As soon as she closes the door she locks it behind them and blows out a slow breath. Her phone beeps, letting her know it is time for Aaron to have more meds, and she goes to the kitchen to get them and finish making his cup of tea.

When she walks into their bedroom her heart feels like it’s in a vice when she sees him. He’s curled around her pillow, the sheets twisted around his legs, and he looks sick. He’s pale and miserable and she knows she’d do anything to make him feel better.

“Here you go honey,” she says, sitting on the edge of the bed and turning on the lamp on his nightstand, wincing when it makes him groan, “Sorry, baby. I brought you some more meds. They’ll make you feel better.”

He groans again as he sits up and takes the glass of water she offers him and the meds. He takes the medication without question - a true sign of how awful he must be feeling, “You really should go to Dave’s party you know,” he says, sniffing in a futile attempt to clear his nose, “It will be more fun than sitting here with me on my death bed.”

She chuckles and takes the glass from him before she settles next to him in bed, sitting up against the headboard whilst he lays back down, “That really would earn me the title of fiancée of the year if I left you here by yourself on New Year’s Eve.”

He laughs, or tries to, the sound dying in his sore throat as he shifts closer to her, his head on her stomach and his arm over her hips as he snuggles against her. He’d always been tactile with her, had always been all over her at any given opportunity, but when he was sick it was another level. It was something he’d passed on to his son, who also insisted on sleeping pressed up against her when he was sick, and she loved it. Loved being the source of their comfort, and she couldn’t help but picture a world where a kid who was half her and half Aaron did the same. They’d started trying for a baby recently, hope pressed into every corner of their home, and the thought of it made her giddy.

“Well, at least it’s New Year’s Eve,” he says, his skin warm even through the barrier of her t-shirt, “The criteria resets tomorrow.”

She smiles and runs her fingers through his hair, “I’m not going anywhere,” she says, smiling when he looks up at her, “I always want to spend New Year with you.”

“I always want to spend New Year with you too.”

He slips in between sleep and being awake for hours whilst pressed up against her side. She only gets out of bed to make dinner for them, the empty places now on her nightstand. She turns on the TV and keeps the volume low, making sure she doesn��t disturb him whilst he rests. She eventually switches the channel to watch the news at Times Square, smiling at the crowds of people huddled together in the freezing cold to watch the ball drop in person.

“What time is it?”

She smiles down at him and pushes his hair away from his forehead, “Almost midnight.”

He nods and sits up, blinking repeatedly to clear his head before he stands up, “Okay.”

“Honey,” she says, raising her eyebrow at him, “What are you doing?”

“Going to brush my teeth,” he mutters, leaning against the wall as he walks to the ensuite. She rolls her eyes and gets out of bed to follow him.

“Why?”

“So I can kiss you at midnight,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “My breath sucks.”

She hums and crosses her arms over her chest, pressing her lips together as she tries to suppress a smile, “Yeah,” she says, looking him up and down, the palour of his skin almost worse in the light of the bathroom, “That’s the problem with kissing right now.”

He pauses, furrowing his brow as he stops squeezing toothpaste onto his toothbrush as if he’d just remembered he was sick.

“Oh, yeah, sorry sweetheart-” He says, and she leans in and kisses him, stamping her lips against his, smiling when he frowns in confusion when she pulls back. “You’ll get sick.”

“Worth it,” she presses her thumb against his lower lip, “But you’re right, you should brush your teeth, your breath sucks.”

He shakes his head at her lovingly and she winks at him and walks back out to their bedroom. She settles back into bed and pulls the covers over her lap, smiling as she takes the chance to look at her engagement ring. She was going to marry him next year, and hopefully expand their family too. The excitement of it all makes her skin tingle, and as Aaron slips back into bed next to her, it feels infinitely better than any evening drinking expensive champagne ever could have.

They watch the ball drop on the TV and share a kiss at midnight, his skin warm against hers as he settles against her afterwards.

“Happy New Year, Em.”

She kisses the top of his head, smiling against his hairline as she thinks of all they have to come, “Happy New Year, Aaron.”

___

She hums a tune she can’t name as she paces back and forth in her bedroom, one hand under the 4-month-old against her chest, and one rubbing soothing circles on his back. Issac gristles against her, grumbling as he rubs his face against her chest. She kisses the top of his head and sighs, suppressing a yawn as she breathes in his sweet scent.

“You’ll feel so much better if you get some sleep, sweet boy,” she says, falling to suppress her yawn this time as she carries on, “We all need some sleep.”

Isaac hadn’t been a great sleeper from the start, but in the last couple of weeks, he’d barely slept for more than one hour at a time. She knew it was normal, she knew that he’d grow out of it, but it was hard. She was more exhausted than she’d ever been in her life but she was also the happiest she’d ever been. It was overwhelming sometimes and would spill out of her in the form of what felt like constant tears on her cheeks because somehow this was her life now. She had a husband and two little boys she loved more than she ever thought possible, and it was beautifully, achingly normal.

It was strange to think how much had changed in the space of a year. Last New Year’s Eve, when Aaron had been sick and she’d stayed home to look after him, this was exactly where she hoped she’d be now. In early January, when she suddenly found herself feeling awful she convinced herself that she’d caught the flu from Aaron. It took almost a week before she let herself even consider that it might be something else, before she dared to take a pregnancy test. She still had it in a drawer in the bathroom, the digital screen that once displayed the word pregnant now faded, because she couldn’t bring herself to throw it away.

She looks up as the bedroom door opens and she smiles at Aaron as he walks in and closes the door behind him, “Jack’s settled in his bed.”

“He’ll be so mad in the morning,” she says, smiling softly as she continues to pace the room, “He was hoping he’d make it to midnight this year.”

Jack surprised them when he asked to stay home this New Year instead of going to his grandfather’s like he usually did. He explained that he wanted to spend it with them and Issac, and he’d been insistent that he’d stay awake until midnight. He’d fallen asleep in their bed just a few minutes ago and Aaron had taken him back to his room so he’d get a better night’s sleep than he would in the same room as his little brother who woke up several times a night.

“I know,” Aaron says, walking over to them, “How is the littlest Hotchner doing?”

“He might make it to midnight,” she replies dryly, “I think Zaccy thinks sleep is for the weak,” she says, tilting her head to look at her still wide-awake son, “Huh, kiddo?”

“Want me to try?”

She nods and kisses the top of Issac’s head as she passes him over, “Yes please, my arms are starting to ache.”

“He just loves his mommy so much that he wants to be in your arms all the time.”

“I think it might be because I smell of milk,” she hums and sits on the bed, her back against the headrest as she rubs her eyes, “But that’s a sweet thought.”

Aaron smiles at her as he sways side to side, Issac secure against his chest, “You know as well as I do that you are the centre of the world for every Hotchner who lives in this house.”

She feels her cheeks go warm, still not used to his love and affection even after all this time, and she is distracted by her phone as it vibrates on her nightstand. She smiles as she picks it up, a selfie of the team at Dave’s annual New Year’s Eve party starting up at her, their smiles and slightly dazed eyes letting her know they were all several drinks in.

“Dave sent a picture of the team,” she says, turning her phone to show him, “With the caption ‘What will be your excuse to miss next year’s party?’”

Aaron laughs and looks down to see Issac is now sleeping, “He’s asleep.”

Emily huffs out a breath and watches as he places the baby in the bassinet on her side of the bed and stamps a kiss against his forehead.

“I’d be pissed you got him off so quickly,” she says, wrapping her arms around one of Aaron’s the moment he’s in bed, “But I am far too tired to care about that right now.”

He kisses the top of her head and then rests his cheek there, yawning himself as they settle against each other. He looks at the clock on her nightstand and hums, “Only one hour until the new year. I wonder what it will bring us”

She turns her head to kiss him, “Hopefully more sleep,” she quips, smiling against his lips, “But I’d be happy with more of what we’ve already got.”

“Me too.”

She lets herself enjoy the silence that was so rare in their home these days, and she settles into his warmth. She doesn’t remember falling asleep, she isn’t even aware she has until she feels small hands on her face and shoulder.

“Mom,” Jack whispers, his eyes wide as she opens hers to meet them, “Mom, we all fell asleep.”

“We fell asleep?” She groans as she blinks a few times and she looks over at the clock to see it is now 12.30 am, “We fell asleep.” She looks over at Issac, panic racing through her until she sees he’s still fast asleep, his chest rising and falling rhythmically. She looks at Aaron and realises they are both still sitting up, that they’d slumped against each other in bed with the light still on and fallen asleep without realising. She looks at Jack and smiles at him, opening her arms up to him and encouraging him in for a hug. He crawls into her arms and she rearranges the covers around them both “I don’t think I’ve fallen asleep before midnight on New Year’s since I was your age, sweet boy.”

“I woke up in my bedroom but I don’t remember going to bed,” he says, resting his head on her shoulder.

“Dad took you to bed,” she replies, smiling as she looks at her still sleeping husband.

“Should we wake him up?”

She’s about to say no, to try and figure out how she can get them all lying down without waking him up, but then Issac cries, loud and sharp in the otherwise quiet room and Aaron shocks awake.

“I’ll get him,” he mutters, wiping his eyes with the heels of his hands as he stands up. She watches with amusement as he walks a few paces and then realises she’s sitting up and Jack is with them too, “What time is it?”

“It’s the new year Dad!” Jack exclaims, and Emily smiles at him, her nails scratching lightly at his scalp. “Happy New Year!”

“Happy New Year, buddy!”

Emily turns to look at Aaron, a familiar swooping in her gut as she watches him lift Issac into his arms. She’d always known he was an amazing father, but watching him with their infant son had taken it to a new level. She wanted more kids with him, a thought that wasn’t even dulled by the bone deep exhaustion of having a baby right now, and part of her wondered if, by the end of the year, she’d once again be missing the opportunity to be drunk at Dave’s party.

“We fell asleep.” She says simply, smiling as he hums in response, Issac against his chest as he starts to settle down, clearly just wanting to be part of the fun.

“I’m not surprised. We’ve barely slept in weeks,” he smiles at Emily and leans in to kiss her, his lips quickly stamped against hers, “Happy New Year by the way.”

She kisses him back, “Happy New Year,” she then smiles at Jack and kisses the top of his head, “You too, Jack,” she reaches out and runs her knuckles down Issac’s cheek, “You too, sweet boy.”

“Happy New Year, Mom and Dad,” Jack beams at her before he leans in and kisses Issac’s cheek, “Happy New Year, Zaccy.”

Issac blows a spit bubble and it makes Jack giggle, and Emily wipes Issac’s mouth with the sleep of her shirt.

“I think that’s his way of saying it back, kiddo.”

Aaron smiles at his eldest, “What do you want to happen this year, Jack?”

He furrows his brow as he thinks about it for a second before a delighted smile spreads across his face, “I’d like a baby sister!”

#hotchniss fanfic #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotchniss fanfiction #emily prentiss fanfiction #aaron x emily #emily prentiss #hotchniss #hotchniss fan fic

21 notes · View notes

streamafterlaughter · 2 days ago

Text

Soundtrack to Disaster

Chapter X: The Destruction of Your Innocence

masterlist | playlist | pinboard | prev | diaries coming VERY soon

songs for this chapter: an ode by mat kerekes, the price of growing up by watsky

summary: an evening of fun with the party, and for once nothing feels too heavy... until it does.

chapter tags: none! Just a good wholesome dose of friendship on all counts… the calm before the storm, if you will. | fic tags: angst, hurt/(eventual) comfort, (eventual) smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Eddie Munson x Fem!OC!Reader, Modern AU | This fic is rated 18+ MDNI each chapter will have its own content/trigger warnings

a/n: I would consider this the end of Act I.... meaning.... well. I'm sure you can figure that out. Happy new year everyone! 🎉

DISCLAIMER: I do not consent to having my work fed to AI engines, or reposted in any way, shape, or form on other websites. Unless otherwise stated, this is the only account that features and contains this work, and any replication was done without my consent. Please let me know if you see my work elsewhere. Reblog to support the author!

taglist @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @kellsck @faggotinie @xplrnowornever @taccobelle @micheledawn1975 @mewchiili @dreamerjj @losingmygrasponreality @munsonburn3r | comment/message me to be added!

“Good morning!” Robin answers the door to her apartment with far too much pep for eight am. Your ears are still ringing from last night, and you wince at her volume. “Oh, sorry. Forgot you’re so not a morning person. Come in!” She whispers the last part, and you chuckle lightly as you cross the threshold, only for your smile to fall from your lips. Eddie is splayed on the couch, a black coffee in his hand as Steve talks at him about how important reading the instructions is.

“Hi, Bee!” Steve greets you from the kitchen, and Eddie offers a brief wave.

“Mornin’. Sorry, I didn't know it was a party, I would’ve dressed nicer.” You’re suddenly embarrassed by your choice of outfit: A pair of bike shorts and a massive t-shirt draped over your body like a nightgown.

“Oh, shush, you look great. Especially for what we’re doing today.” Robin, clad in overalls, walks by you and into the living room, where differently sized planks of wood are spread out on the carpet, a pile of screws in a bag next to them, and the instructions booklet flattened to the first page.

“What exactly are we doing?” Eddie asks, sitting up. “I was just told I was needed, I was never told why.” He looks at you, as if asking for help. You shrug.

“We’re putting this thing together,” Robin toes the mess of boards. “Need all hands on deck, this ain’t no IKEA furniture.”

“Good thing, IKEA’s shit would fall apart in a week.” You kneel in front of the pieces, examining them closely. “Shouldn’t be too difficult, looks like everything we need came with it.”

“Okay, great! Steve, put on some jams. Bee, come with me for a second.” Robin offers her hand, and you stand up to follow her into her bedroom.

“What’s up?”

“Are you, like, good?”

“What?” The question confuses you.

“Like, with Eddie here. I know we didn’t tell you, it wasn’t really planned, Steve just texted him for extra help and I didn’t wanna argue because I don’t wanna be the one to have to help him move the thing when we inevitably have to.”

“Rob, it’s cool. I’m over the initial shock of Eddie being here every time I see you guys. I know it’s been awhile, but this was a normal occurrence once.”

“Yeah, I know, it just hasn’t been for a really long time. Wanna make sure you’re okay, that’s all.”

You kiss her cheek, smiling warmly. “It’s okay, Bob. Thank you.”

With that, she leads you back into the room, where Steve and Eddie stop speaking abruptly, as if they’d been conspiring something you aren’t allowed to know.

“Okay!” Steve claps his hands together, breaking the tension. “Let’s do it, we’re losing daylight.”

–

“Okay, this goes here–” “No, Rob, that goes there, this goes here–” “Bee, hand me the screwdriver–” “Would you move, Ed, you’re in my light–” The four of you talk over each other for hours, screwing and hammering pieces into place, groaning when you realize something is upside down.

“Wait, wait, shut up!” Robin eventually exclaims before standing up to admire the fruit of your labor. “We fuckin’ did it!” In front of you sits a complete, sturdy entertainment center, every piece where it belongs. You feel a burst of pride as you stand up next to your friends, resting your hands on your hips to take in the sight before you.

“Look at us! And in a miraculous turn of events, Bee and Eddie didn’t maim each other to death!” Steve adds, elbowing Eddie in the ribs and earning himself a shove. “You know, this might be cause for a gathering.” Eddie announces, earning groans from you, Steve, and Robin. To Eddie, a gathering didn’t mean the usual party with beer and weed, loud music and the likelihood of drama. For that, you were grateful. However, it did mean a very loud, passionate game of Dungeons & Dragons with four teenage boys. The cleanup is comparable, and you don’t count on Eddie helping out.

“Please, Rob? I promise, we’ll be out by ten. There’s just barely any room at my place, and you guys always have the good snacks.” You cock an eyebrow at Eddie, but he’s too busy pouting at Robin to notice.

“Ugh, fine! Out by ten, no exceptions.” He opens his mouth to thank her, but Robin quickly adds, “And only if Bee will come.” She crosses her arms over her chest triumphantly, like she’s found the secret way out of the deal.

“What? Why is this suddenly on me?” You look from her to Eddie, whose eyes are wide with his friend’s betrayal.

“Because I know you hated those things.” She grins. You remember, consistently left out of the games in high school because you were friends with a couple cheerleaders. Instead, being forced to watch from the corner, mumbling under your breath every time one of them did something stupid, and throwing popcorn into Eddie’s hair. “Y’know what, I might actually join you. If they let me play.” You glare up at Eddie, like you’ve passed the grenade. To make you show up, he has to let you play. If he doesn’t let you play, the gathering is off. The snake eats its own tail.

But he shrugs. “Okay, yeah.”

You and Robin share a look of exaggerated surprise, gasping in unison like he’d dropped to one knee. “What happened to the golden rule? No Darksiders!”

Eddie throws his head back with laughter, chest heaving as he tries to compose himself. “Guys, I’ve matured a little in the past few years, would you give me some credit?”

It shifts something in your chest, hearing him say it. You forget sometimes that Steve and Robin had also been together without Eddie for a while. When he’d finally graduated, Eddie skipped town without a word to any of his friends. You’d even gotten an influx of calls and texts, friends of Eddie’s you’d only met in passing asking you if he was out in New York with you, having no idea you already hadn’t spoken in two years.

“Okay,” You resign, remembering your brother’s plea from last night for you to be nicer to him. “Then a gathering we shall have.”

—

The apartment quickly becomes a playground, a mass of what you can’t exactly call children flooding through the front door, immediately taking up any available surface. The boys: Lucas, Will, Mike, and Dustin, are loud and excited, spreading out their game pieces on the kitchen table with intention. The girls, El and Max, make their way to the pantry for snacks and soda, opening every cabinet until they find what they’re looking for. You brace the tornado, still as possible until everyone is settled.

“So,” Max sits on the empty cushion beside you, crossing her legs to rest a bowl of popcorn in her lap. “Long time, no see!” You’d always been closest to Max, even closer than you’d gotten to Dustin just by being friends with Steve and, at the time, Eddie. Max, though, seemed drawn to you specifically. Your senior year, when she was in seventh grade, she’d started wearing her hair like yours, asking you where you bought your clothes, what kind of music you liked. It was cute, really. You’d always wanted a little sister, and Max was probably the coolest thing you could have imagined.

“Hey, Maxy.” You nudge her with your shoulder. “Look at you, all grown up.” She’s flourished since the last time you saw her, which would have to have been right before you’d left for New York. “Sorry I didn’t come visit more.”

She shrugs. “No biggie, I get it. Although, it is weird to see you two in the same room again.” You know she’s referring to Eddie, but she sends a less than subtle glance in his direction, and you follow it to find him conducting yet another Hellfire pre-campaign meeting. You indulge in watching the show for a minute, the way Eddie leans forward in his chair at the head of the table, face expressive as he alludes to the battles he’s written for his little goblins and you should probably be paying attention to what he’s saying. You hear Max giggling beside you.

“What’s so funny?”

“Well, despite all this time, you haven’t changed at all.”

“What are you talking about?” You raise an eyebrow at her.

“You still look at Eddie like a lovesick dog.” She rolls her eyes, and you dart yours to the floor. “Hey, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I kind of always knew you two wouldn’t be apart forever.”

“Okay, missy, you’re gettin’ a little too big for your britches. Eddie and I are barely friends. Acquaintances by circumstance.” Even to yourself, you sound unconvincing.

“Mhm, sure.” She teases as you turn back to watch the theatrics of the Dungeon Master, despite yourself.

“Take a pic, Bee, it’ll last longer!” You feel your cheeks burning as Dustin cackles, followed by the groans of the gaggle of boys surrounding him. You stare straight ahead, doing your best to avoid the way Eddie’s eyes are penetrating the side of your face.

“Dustin, shut the hell up. Upsetting Bee is almost worse than upsetting Eddie.” Mike elbows his friend in the ribs.

“It’s true, dude, you’re playing with fire.” Lucas adds, tone heeding a warning. You hear a thump under the table, followed quickly by Dustin’s cry of “Ow, you bitch!” Followed by a 20 sided die flying at Eddie’s head. Luckily, his fluffy curls soften the blow, Eddie barely even flinching.

“Oh, you’re in for it now, Henderson.” Eddie practically growls at the boy, eyes darkening with the mischief the rest of them have grown familiar with.

–

“Well, well, well.” Eddie leans back in his chair, folding his hands across his chest with an aura of smugness. “Looks like you’re all out of options.” Your character is mostly unscathed, but you can’t say the same for your campaign party. All of the kids’ characters are on their last legs, Dustin’s even literally, having lost his left lower limb to a corrupted mage about twenty minutes into the game. “Any last words?”

You can tell Dustin regrets his joke from earlier, face trembling with anxiety so palpable you’d think he’d seen this type of horror in real life. “I choose to surrender.” The party only mumble in agreement

“Roll to see if your surrender is accepted.” Eddie leans in, the grin on his face widening.

Dustin rolls a three. “Shit.”

Eddie throws his head back, a devilish cackle releasing into the air of the apartment. “Oh you poor, poor thing. Looks like your begs for mercy go unheard.” Eddie rolls the die himself, landing on eight. “Hm, seems like you’re getting off a little easy. You may leave unscathed.” Dustin squints his eyes at the older man, waiting for the catch. “All you must do is leave your strongest soldier as collateral.” He leans his elbow on the table, and Dustin follows his gaze to where you sit across from him, too distracted by the look on Eddie’s face to pay attention to what he’s saying. What the fuck is wrong with you?

“Bee?” Will’s voice snaps you back to reality. “What do you think?”

“What? Oh,” You look from Eddie, with that stupid smirk on his face, back to your teammates. “You want to sacrifice me?”

“Well, we don’t want to. Clearly you’re the reason we’re still alive here.” Dustin grumbles, fiddling with a handful of dice. “The second we give her to you, Ed, you’re gonna destroy us!”

Eddie only shrugs, giving none of his diabolical plan away to his opponents. “Only one way to find out.”

Dustin looks at you, eyebrow raised. “What do you think, Bee?”

You try to focus on the game. If you surrender, you become what Eddie likes to describe as a henchman. Your moves from here on in are only to benefit him. You’d be turning on your team, but they’d be free to walk away. If you don’t surrender, who knows what the sick and twisted Dungeon Master has up his sleeve for them?

“I guess… I will bravely sacrifice myself for your freedom.” You decide, gracefully gesturing to the younger boys. “I would be honored to die for the good of the campaign.”

The boys look at each other, ultimately deciding to accept your sacrifice. Eddie, though, throws his head back with his in character evil laughter, swiping your game piece from the board. “And so it shall be! The mage has been sacrificed, and captured by the darkness to distract from the escape of the rest of the party.” He looks from the boys back to you, the smile on his face a little softer. “An honorable risk, indeed.”

–

As promised, the younglings are kicked out promptly at ten, and Eddie is nice enough to bring them all home.

“Bye, guys!” Steve gives a wave before closing and locking the door. “I am fucking exhausted.”

“Yeah, it’s really tiring work sitting on your ass eating pizza.” You snort, clearing the paper plates from the table.

“Hey, you’re one to talk. You got to play a game all night while Eddie made googly eyes at you.”

His comment stops you in your tracks. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Oh, please, like you have no idea!” He looks at you, face contorting from amused to bewildered. “Oh, you really have no idea.”

Robin snorts behind him. “Neither of them have a clue, Stevie.”

“Can someone please explain to me what the hell you’re talking about?” You’re exhausted, and you can’t keep up with your friends’ cryptic bullshit.

“C’mere.” Robin walks around to sit on the couch, patting the cushion next to her.

“Rob, I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Relax, Steve. Bee’s gone through enough, the least we can do is tell her what we know.” You plop down beside your friend, and Steve joins you on the other side. “Bee, what do you know about Eddie coming back to Hawkins?”

You squint at Robin. “As much as you do, I thought! He came back when Chris got released. I still don’t even know where he went after he graduated. Before then, it had been years since we’d spent any time together.”

Robin nods thoughtfully, like she’s considering your words. “Well, think about it. Why would he choose now to come back? Why would he put the effort in to hang out with us, with you?”

You shake your head, growing more frustrated by the second. “You know I don’t have the answers to any of that. All I know is that Chris told Eddie to rat on him, to save his own ass from being tormented by Hawkins PD. And I only learned that, like, yesterday.”

Steve chimes in. “Well, at least he finally told you some of the truth.”

“What?” You turn to face him, your voice straining. “What more is there?”

“Bee,” Robin rests a hand on your shoulder. “He broke up with Macy, he’s hanging out with us every damn day. Don’t pretend you haven’t figured out Eddie’s obsessed with you.”

This shit again. You groan, throwing your head back into the couch cushions. “This is bullshit. You’re making shit up.”

“Okay, if that’s your theory, why the hell would we do that?” Steve seems offended by the accusation.

“How should I know? You guys love to meddle, why would I be exempt from your torment?”

“It’s hopeless, Rob. We’re gonna have to show her.”

She shrugs. “Guess so.” She plucks her phone from the coffee table and begins scrolling. “Ah! Here it is.” She turns her phone to face you. Displayed is a picture from the Chappell show, the four of you posing in front of the stage with big, excited smiles on your faces. Well, you, Steve, and Robin are smiling. Eddie isn’t even looking at the camera, but at you. His arm is wrapped tightly around your shoulder, and he’s smiling, eyes focused on the side of your face. Robin hadn’t posted this picture, and you can now understand why. The best way to describe the look on Eddie’s face is lovesick. You feel a lurch in your throat, still examining the photo, the way you hadn’t even noticed him.

“What am I supposed to take from this?” You try to play it off, despite the impossibility of denying what you’re looking at. “This doesn’t change anything.”

“Please, Bee. Don’t tell me you can’t feel it. You know there’s something there.” Robin is practically pleading with you. “I know he has a lot of making it up to you to do, but, what if you gave him the chance? I’m not saying you have to fall in love with him or anything,”

“Though, that would be kind of awesome!” Steve interjects.

“But, I dunno, maybe you guys could be friends again. Maybe things could start healing themselves.”

“Would it get you two off my back?” You half joke, feeling your palms sweating under the pressure. They nod eagerly. “Okay, fine. I’ll try my best to give him a chance. That doesn’t mean I believe a word of what you’re telling me, though.”

Robin and Steve high five over your head. “We’ll take it!” Robin exclaims, jumping from her seat. “And, if he ends up being a total douche bag, you have all the right to say you told us so.” She holds out her pinky to you, and you grab it with your own, sealing the deal.

31 notes · View notes