#cries in kilometres | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lucysarah-c · 2 months

Text

Fifteen, what an age to be alive. Dad!Levi

Summary: Steal your father's car! What could go wrong? Author note: Since the Marley world seemed to be around the 30s-40s, I’ll set this idea in a world that looks like the mid-50s. This is POST WAR. Warnings: Cursing 'cause Levi, obv. And slightly mention of a group taking advantage of a girl, nothing really happens and there's no graphic description at all. Word count: 3.9k Pairing: Dad! Levi x Mom! Reader

His hands gripped the big round wheel of the car as his eyes scanned the dark night with a nervous smile, quickly turning into clenched teeth. His attention shifted to the passenger seat, soft as if it was a scene from one of the horror pictures he saw at the drive-in.

A light blond girl lay unconscious, her head resting against the door, appearing lifeless. She wore a typical sleeveless red button-up shirt and very short white shorts, with white socks crumpled down to double-coloured loafers. Her hair was still in a ponytail, exposing her face completely. It was August, plain summer break, and he knew that most of his classmates wore shorts or even swimsuits at the pool or beach. But somehow, her exposure made him blush and feel ashamed, as if even staring felt wrong.

Turning to the back seat of the car, he picked up his letterman jacket and placed it on top of her, covering her as much as possible. It looked big on her, and somehow, Adrien blessed every deity mentioned; he probably was inheriting his father’s uncle’s height and not his father's, a fact becoming rather obvious every day, as he was only 15 and already almost 1.80m.

“Calm down, Adie… you got this,” he whispered to himself, “I’ve no idea what I'm going to do but I got it.”

How did he get into this situation? It was supposed to be a silly night out; one of his friends invited him to a party of the seniors who were graduating from high school that year. What was the issue if he was just a freshman? Fifteen, eighteen, it’s the same! Plus, it was some party at some old forgotten building, half destroyed during the rumbling around ten years ago, in the middle of nowhere. Nothing wrong with that.

Yes, perhaps he stole his father’s keys and car. Yes, perhaps he lied about sleeping in his room. Yes, maybe he stole a bit (a lot) of money from his parents. “I mean… deep down, it’s my father’s fault for not allowing me to come legally,” Adrien argued with his own reflection in the car's mirror.

But everything went downhill when he saw a group of guys dragging a girl who was clearly not feeling well and decided to step in. Now, here he was, the party had turned into a mess as the fight happened, he got kicked out with an unconscious girl, and who knew what they had given her. He hit his forehead against the wheel as time slipped through his fingers; he was supposed to be back home already.

“Fucking shit! Who told me to step in!” he cursed under his breath. Deep down, he knew stepping up for what he had been told was horrendously wrong, knowing he had the strength to fight those assholes back. ‘The curse of being a fucking Ackerman, man,’ he thought.

He had done the right thing, at least one right thing during the entire night, but now he had to face the consequences. Muffled cries mixed with distressed groans filled the car, “My father is going to kill me!”

His forehead kept hitting the wheel repeatedly as if that would knock some common sense into him or perhaps give him a concussion and fake that he had been kidnapped or something. Surrounded by trees in a dead-end road, it wasn’t even paved. Only the footprints of multiple cars to follow back to civilization. The distressed teen didn’t even know where he was; his older friend had guided him there and left with his girlfriend at some point of the party.

Slowly raising his head up again to admire the endless kilometres of dim nothing, contemplating his options, seizing his courage. “Come on, Adie. Be a man, be a man!”

The trees’ branches creaked in the middle of the night, the car slightly swayed under the strong summer wind. “I want my mommy,” he muttered.

Hand on the wheel and turning on the car, one step at a time, he took a deep breath and then decided to go out on the road again. Forgotten somewhere, his father’s car’s papers and driver's license. In them it read “Levi Ackerman.”

Each branch from the forest that scraped the car was a personal pain, praying to any god's existence that it didn’t scratch it. Of course, his father had filled up the tank, obviously he had. Levi was like that, always cautious. Adrien did a personal wish his father had a map stored in the glove compartment, but obviously, he didn’t. After all, Levi knew the streets of the city like the back of his hand. He drove a lot, especially since his legs weren’t what they used to be anymore. Perhaps he didn’t need any support for walking any longer, but walking long distances wasn’t in Levi’s plans anymore.

“Perhaps I can… drive to the hospital, leave her, and like run away,” he contemplated, before groaning loudly, “No, I can’t do that. God, I’m dead.”

‘I could have walked away, but no, Mr. Adrien Ackerman has to be a hero. Mr. Ackerman has to do the right thing.’

Adrien had driven twice in his life; this one was the second. The first was a few years ago when his father sat him down on his lap and let him do it for a little bit. He was happy he hadn’t encountered much traffic and only had to drive ahead because he wasn’t completely sure yet what the third pedal was for.

“I got it, do not worry,” he said, trying to sound reassuring to the unmoving girl on his right. Adrien’s grey eyes checked on her from time to time, but she seemed deeply asleep, or so he hoped. “I’ll get to the hospital in no time, and you’ll be alright,” he promised.

His smile created a couple of dimples on each side of his face, but it quickly faded as fear kicked in. “And if you’re not alright, do not worry. I’ll throw myself off a bridge, and we can be not alright together,” he kept joking as if, by some miracle, the girl would reply.

He didn’t even know her name, and somehow, that made him feel even guiltier. As civilization began to appear and the sky began to lighten up, he lost hope of not dying at the hands of his own progenitor, but he was also hopeful that at least he was getting somewhere without crashing. The sun hadn’t shown up yet, but the deep blue of the sky had a particular glow to it that made it imminent.

The streets were deserted, and rightfully so; it was the middle of the night on a Monday. Adrien tried to park the car as best as he could, finally reaching the only hospital he somehow remembered the route to. Rushing to the other door, he carefully picked her up.

When he crossed the doors of the main hospital, which was almost empty at those hours, the doctors on duty quickly took her in, some searching for identifications inside her clothes. The police officer at the front gates forbade him from leaving the place.

“Alright, please hand me your ID,” the front gate secretary asked after informing him that the girl was out of danger, but she would have to stay for monitoring. Adrien’s suspicious silence made the woman raise her eyes from the form she was filling out to look at him. “You know that carrying IDs is obligatory, right?”

“Yes, madam…” He felt his palm sweating as he feared being taken to the police station.

“How old are you?”

Her voice sounded calm but tired as she quickly understood the issue, “… eighteen.”

With a loud sigh, she took off her cat-eye red glasses and then slowly blinked back at him. “Look kid, I’ve been on night watch for three days straight. I’ve no energy to deal with this.”

Adrien’s eyes remained glued to the floor, feeling small despite his stature. “… fifteen,” he admitted reluctantly.

Her unpleasant groans echoed in the empty walls that reeked of disinfectant. He slowly turned to the gates, and the security guys began to chuckle as they drank coffee. Feeling the need to clarify, he said, “I swear it wasn’t me who hurt her.”

“Kid, people who drug girls don’t carry them to hospitals,” she replied disinterestedly, pouring the information into the typewriter, the typing echoing in the place. Finally, she picked up a post-it with a pencil and raised it to the top of the reception table. “Your parents' contact number, please.”

Her eyes quickly moved to him and then back to her writing as he hesitated to fill out the paper. “You know I’ve done nothing; can’t I just go?” Adrien insisted, trying to escape the situation.

“Kid, you’re breaking national curfew and walking around without identification. A responsible adult must come and sign for you to leave; otherwise, you’ll live here until you turn 18.”

“Could you at least wait until 9 am to call my mother’s work number?” He smiled awkwardly, trying to find a way to avoid his father’s rage. The secretary looked up at the clock; it wasn’t even 5 am and then back to him, deadly. Unpleasant complaining groans echoed as he reluctantly wrote his house’s telephone number. “Sorry.”

Sat down at one of those uncomfortable waiting room’s seats with a latte and chocolate donut he brought at the cafeteria, he waited as someone waits to be hanged. The doctors and nurses moved here and there attending to the few people that came in with emergencies. Until the secretary walked by and said, “Your father picked up the phone; he said that getting the car and coming this way.”

Adrien’s grey eyes quickly turned in fear to check out of the window, grimacing uneasily as he admired the family's car parked outside. “Great…”

The longer it took, the more Adrien knew he was in trouble. Pressing his eyes closed and clenching his jaw, as if he could already feel the kick in his ass. Despite the nerves, his head bobbed forward as he fell asleep, and the tug of falling forward snapped him back awake. At some point, he rested his head on the joined seat and fell asleep, mouth open.

The front gates snapping open woke him up, and he wished to make himself smaller so he could hide behind the back of the seats. But as he turned backwards, Levi was at the front desk talking to the secretary and security guards. His dark hair was a mess, and it seemed like he had just put on some shoes and a shirt because he still had the pyjama pants on. Outside, the cap that his father had probably been forced to take there.

As the secretary picked up the forms for him to fill, his father quickly raised his grey eyes to shoot him across the room the deadliest glance he had yet to witness. ‘Goodbye everybody, it was nice knowing you.’

Avoiding facing death, Adrien remained seated, giving his back, but he quickly heard the footsteps of his father, characterized by the slight hobble he had after the war. With his presence looming, he looked down at Adrien, who slowly raised his attention up.

Smiling innocently, “Hi, dad.”

Levi didn’t smile back; quite the opposite, he frowned even more and extended his right hand that was missing two fingers. “My fucking keys.”

The teen searched for them inside his jeans and quietly handed them over with puppy eyes. Levi snapped them, but his hand didn’t withdraw. “And my damn money.” Repeating the same action but with the bills, Levi grabbed them and began to count. “And the rest?”

Adrien mumbled some incoherent groans as he refused to make eye contact. “Tch,” Levi clicked his tongue and gripped his shirt neck, raising him from his seat, pushing him to the exit. “Get in the fucking car.”

The walk of shame only accentuated as his father's angry tone didn’t match the polite one he used to greet the secretary and guards on his way out. He cowered in the passenger seat, trying to make himself a tiny ball as Levi slammed the door shut. Loud sighs that didn’t withdraw the deep frown before he turned on the car again.

“You’re so fucking wrong if you think I’ll stand this type of behaviour; I'm telling you,” Levi spat the words as he drove back home. “What the hell were you thinking?!”

“Adrien!” Levi insisted as the kid didn’t even reply, looking to his right as he waited at a red light. “You don’t want to talk? Fine, fucking ungrateful brat. You know how fucking worried your mother was when we received a call from the shitty hospital? Eh?”

“The drive-in the other day, the supposed hang out at your friend’s house that you were never fucking there, and now this. Are you fucking proud?” the ex-captain of the scouts kept going as his eyes were glued to the road despite only one of them working anymore. “You’re grounded, you’re so fucking grounded that I’ll fucking die, and you’ll have to get a damn Ouija board to contact me to see if you can go out to buy groceries.”

The teen just silently rolled his eyes as the long list of unhappiness of his father about his behaviour couldn’t care less. “Don’t you dare to roll your eyes on me, brat. You heard me? Drop that fucking attitude.” Somehow his father always seemed to have eyes everywhere. “Happy now? You ruined your entire summer break; beg all you want later on. You’re not leaving the house.”

“As if you’d let me go out anyway,” Adrien murmured mockingly under his breath.

“What?” Levi demanded. “If you’re going to have the guts to steal MY car, MY money, and break MY orders, then grow the guts to speak the fuck up.”

“That you never let me go anywhere!” Adrien shouted back angrily.

“For what? To go to this damn party in the middle of nowhere to hang out with fucking rapists and get

shit-faced?” Levi argued back. “You think I was born yesterday? I know exactly which places I don’t want you to get involved with. You think you’ve everything figured out, but that’s not it, Adrien! You’re 14! Fourteen!”

“I’m fifteen!”

“You turned fifteen two weeks ago, for fuck’s sake!” Levi shouted, slightly turning to his right before focusing back on the road. “I’m telling you, better fix your attitude or this is not going to end well. You may be getting big and feel cocky, but you won’t play smart-ass with me. You can grow up to be as tall as the fucking Colossal Titan, and yet you would do whatever the fuck I tell you!”

“I did the right thing! I stood up for her; I’m not stupid enough to do whatever my classmates do. Why can’t you see that?!” Adrien complained as they reached the front of the house, and Levi stopped the car.

“’Cause you were stupid enough to steal my car even when you don’t know how to fucking drive!” Levi complained as he got out of the car, walking to the front door. He kept going with the lecture but lower as he didn’t want to wake up the neighbours. “You don’t like it? Choose another father in your next life; in this one, it’s me, and I’m not going to let my teenage kid not give a fuck about the decisions I take. I’ve gone through too much shit for a fucking brat to tell me what I believe is the best for them.”

They both walked in, and Levi locked the door behind them. The room was still dim for the early hours, and their dog greeted them enthusiastically. The keys dropping at the front plate echoed loudly, and the tuxedo cat of the family finally appeared to rub himself against the legs of the teen, who quietly picked him up. Y/N quickly rushed to check on her kid.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did they hurt you somewhere?” She seemed clearly agitated, and Adrien remained with his eyes glued to the floor.

“No, mom,” he murmured, downcast. “I’m fine.”

“Oi, to your damn room,” Levi quickly ordered. “and clean it up; I won’t say it again.”

The kid left, cursing under his breath as he went upstairs and slammed the front door shut.

“What happened?” she asked Levi, who was preparing himself a tea to calm down, enveloping herself in a negligee.

“What happened? That kid is driving me nuts, that’s what's happening,”

Y/N sighed loudly, positioning herself behind her husband and running her hands through his arms, seeking to provide some comfort. She then switched to hugging him from behind. “He’s going through a phase… his new classmates are mostly kids who survived the rumbling, and some of them aren’t the best influence. He just wants to fit in, you know how important that is at his age.”

“Tch,” Levi kept facing the countertop, murmuring as the anger didn’t quickly wash away. But eventually, he closed his eyes and sighed loudly as the adrenaline slowed down. “The audacity of that kid, where the hell does he get it?”

Y/N couldn't help but chuckle against his back, “MH, I wonder,” she said sarcastically. “If they were still around, perhaps we could have asked some senior MPs… perhaps they could enlighten us on how you were as a teen,”

“I wasn’t like that,” Levi softly replied, almost ashamed of the point out.

“No haha you were worse,” Y/N was entertained as she kissed his shoulder blades tenderly. “Or do I have to remind you how you made me sneak out to meet you after curfew?”

“That’s different…”

Forcing him to turn around to place a kiss on his scar as she caressed his face softly, “He’s your kid,” she murmured against his lips. “He hates to be told what to do and has the strength to know he can get out of almost any situation. Asking him to be submissive is like asking him not to be an Ackerman; he got it in his genes,”

Levi just groaned, accepting the caress, her loving his face as if he was brand new and the residues of the war had never happened.

Days passed by, and while the mood in the house was slowly returning to calmness, the punishment still stood, and Adrien was reading in his bedroom, suffering the heat of summer without being able to go out with his friends. He couldn’t even play his record player because if in normal cases his father tolerated him to play his favourite bands loudly, now he was almost cursed to quietness. Levi didn’t seem to be very fond of Rock; perhaps Paradise music was too behind, and the period of adaptation was lacking. It sounded like loud noise to him.

A quiet knock at the front door was heard, mostly because the dog that was resting beside him in his bed raised hastily and rushed downstairs. The noise was almost imperceptible as his father was vacuuming the living room’s carpet while his mother prepared dinner. Adrien was about to raise himself from his bed and open the door himself, but the overwhelmingly loud noise of the vacuum stopped, so he guessed his father was on it.

Levi opened the front door without checking; he had faced so many adversities in life that he hardly doubted that anyone who rang his bell at 6 pm on a Thursday in their quiet family neighbourhood was a threat. “Yes?” he crossed his arms as he admired the young girl at the front gates. She was wearing the usual outfit of the time, white and brown loafers, crumpled low white socks, an inflated pastel yellow skirt that was tightly around her waist with a white blouse. The matching light cardigan was hanging from her shoulders, but she didn’t seem to put it on, another thing that Levi thought was some stupid new fashion trend from teens. That and his son’s imperious necessity to fold the sleeves of his t-shirts. High ponytail and blushed cheeks.

“Good evening, Mr. Ackerman,” The girl greeted him with kindness and politeness.

“Hello,” Levi replied, almost uninterested, his usual unfriendly nature not withdrawn even after years of not being on service.

“I was wondering if Adrien is at home,” she asked, and Levi wished he could roll his eyes at how almost immediately the girl blushed at the mention of his son’s name. “I’m the girl from the other night; I wanted to thank him…” seeing Levi’s slight frown at the memory of that early morning, she nervously added, “And you, of course, for what he did for me,” The young girl handed a package that was easily deduced to be a cake.

“He’s grounded,” Levi quickly replied. “And you don’t need to thank him; he did the only right thing to do. I don’t raise abusers,”

“Oh…” the disappointment in her voice was palpable, “Well, but please at least take the cake? For all the inconvenience,”

“No, kid, it’s alright-”

“Hi, sweetie! Adrien will be down in a minute!” Y/N popped behind Levi, slightly pushing him to the side and smiling softly at the girl. “Do you want to wait inside?”

Levi looked at his wife, confused and slightly offended by how quickly she overstepped him in the conversation.

“Ah, no, it’s alright; I don’t want to be a bother-”

Adrien appeared behind his parents, wondering what the whole issue was, and his mother quickly pushed him forward. “There he is!” She added while tugging Levi back inside. “Let’s give him some space,” she whispered to her husband, who was refusing to move.

“Oi,” Levi complained as he was forced back inside.

Both parents faking to be doing something in the living room to not be seen; Levi wasn’t spying, but his wife was. “She’s so cute,” she whispered, “and she’s crushing so much on him.”

Levi clicked his tongue, “He’s tall. All girls of that age crush on tall boys,” he argued back.

Y/N chuckled and turned to look at him, “talking from experience?”

“Ha ha,” Levi faked a sarcastic laugh. “He’s supposed to be grounded,”

“Shh, I can’t hear!” She hushed him back and then moved slightly as Levi joined her next to the window.

“Great,” Levi said annoyed, “she’s fucking bonnie,”

Confusion was written all over his wife's face as she grimaced dazed and raised an eyebrow, silently asking how those words could be said with such disappointment.

“Now I won’t only have to buy him all those stupid vinyl records, textbooks, and uniforms for the school team, but I’ll also have to start buying condoms; there goes my fucking salary,”

Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @i-literally-cant-with-this @angelofthorr @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @s0meb0dy-0nce-t0ld-me @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @flxrartsstuff @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 Wanna join my tag list? Here!

425 notes · View notes

zhonglism · 8 days

Text

EIGHTEEN THOUSAND KILOMETRES

— oikawa tōru x f! reader

syn: your high school lover suddenly breaks up with you to chase his career in another continent. ten years later, you unexpectedly bump into him, and feelings that were once buried with time resurface once again but you know better than to let it consume you.

18+ MDNI; timeskip!oikawa, angst, hurt/no comfort (gets a bit better towards the end, trust), light smut, implied sex, brief mention of oral (f receiving), not-so-happy ending (sorry lol), iwaizumi being a good friend. divider: cafekitsune.

word count: 4.9k

notes: sorry i suck at writing the synopsis lmaoo pls trust me on this one. i may or may not have cried while writing this aaaaa i live for oikawa angst sm. feedback is more than welcome!

A few hours.

It took 18-year-old Tōru Oikawa a few hours to intricately gather his thoughts and tell you his plans regarding his future. His future. You always took that with a grain of salt because deep down there’s an impending fear that you weren’t always going to be a part of that, especially with how passionate Tōru was with volleyball—you just didn’t think it would come this soon.

Standing at the doorway to your boyfriend’s room, your clouded gaze followed each hesitant step taken as he quietly packed his clothes. Back and forth, back and forth, Tōru grabbed a handful of clothes from his closet and tossed it into an opened suitcase that lay on the floor. The tension in the room grew heavy with each passing second as his suitcase became evidently packed; your solemn gaze locked on his figure, his back remained facing you.

The silence was deafening, your neck burned with a searing blaze, all the things you wanted to scream at him were stuck in your throat. You’ve been standing on the same spot for more than half an hour now, you couldn’t feel the soles of your feet at all but that didn’t compare to the unbearable pain that weaved its way into your heart. Occasional sniffles and sighs escaped you both but nothing more, no one dared to address the elephant in the room right now. That in less than a day, Tōru was going to be eighteen thousand kilometres away from you. For good.

”We can make it work. .” A shaky sigh left your lips, voice hoarse despite not having the heart to yell and argue with him. Tōru gripped the fabrics in his hand, nails digging into the softness of the textiles, he mirrored your sigh and finally faced you. Eyes slightly red from holding his tears back, Tōru’s brows furrowed, “We’re going to be in two different continents. The time zone would be too much of a difference.”

You don’t have to remind me.

Biting your tongue in frustration, you stared at him. His eyes, his nose, his lips, anything and everything that would help you sear his appearance in your mind. “So you’re just going to let all this go? As easy as that?” Nothing in this is easy for me. For the first time in a few hours, Tōru inched closer to your unmoving figure. He’s been keeping a clear distance as if holding you tight against him would cause you to disappear in a flash despite his heart practically aching to be near you at this very moment.

It took all of Tōru’s willpower not to wrap his arms around you, and whisper into your ear over and over again how much he loves you; how scared he was that in less than a day, you weren’t going to be by his side anymore. He was a coward. He knew that doing so would only worsen the situation at hand.

“You and I have futures to pursue, you of all people should know that.” The wooden frame of his bed creaked as he plopped down with another sigh. “B-but you don’t have to end our relationship like this . . ! Maybe I can go to Argentina with you and—” Your boyfriend waved a dismissive hand and let out an empty chuckle, “Don’t be so irrational.” “You’re the irrational one here, Oikawa!” You raised your voice at him, tone trembling with anger and fear as your nails painfully dug into the plushness of your palms.

Your chest rapidly rose and fell with each heavy breath taken, unshed tears threatening to fall from your eyes. Why did he have to do this? Ever since entering a relationship with Tōru, you’ve always known that you only came second to volleyball but you didn’t know it’d hurt this much. Despite having no intentions of holding him back from the future he has worked hard to carve, you couldn’t help but become a little selfish on your end. Why did Tōru have the need to feel that breaking up with you was the best solution?

As mentioned earlier, you’d do anything and everything to make it work. You were hoping. Hoping that your boyfriend would at least reconsider breaking off the relationship but knowing him, once he had set his mind straight, there was no turning back.

“Do you not love me anymore?” You whispered into the silent room. Tōru looked away as he caught a glimpse of your deflated expression, shutting his eyes as he tried not to think of that specific expression in his mind. All he could muster was a weak rebuttal but he dared not to explain further, even if he wanted, he couldn’t bring himself to. Not when the situation was already taking a toll on both of you. He spoke again, voice threatening to waver,

“Will you come see me off tomorrow?”

You didn’t go despite Iwaizumi’s pleas to see Tōru off with him. You couldn’t. The least you could give yourself right now was space, and seeing your boyfriend off to another country would do more harm than good, especially knowing that he wasn’t yours anymore nor you were his. It took Iwaizumi more than thirty texts to finally give up, it was a rare occurrence as it wasn’t in your friend’s nature to be persistent like that.

You’re thankful that he cares for you a lot because for the first few weeks without Tōru’s presence, both of you confided in each other. There were occurrences where you had to turn down his requests on joining him for a weekly video call with Tōru who still had a hard time settling down in a foreign country; in your mind, you had no business communicating with your ex-boyfriend anymore—he broke off the relationship and that was that.

Weeks turned into months, and months turned into years. As you moved on with life and focused on your career ahead, naturally, you found yourself burying the painful past behind. Not to mention how you deleted Tōru’s number—after painfully reminiscing old texts with him—and blocked him from all your social media accounts. It’s been ten years now and Oikawa was the least of your concern, he was just a person from the past that you’re thankful to have met.

After all, if it wasn’t for what he did, you wouldn’t have learned to grow as an individual and truly seek what you wanted. During the course of your relationship with Oikawa, you were more than content supporting him in his volleyball career, standing at the sidelines and cheering him on but you didn’t know what you wanted for yourself then, and maybe Oikawa saw that earlier on. That breaking up was a way for you to flourish as your own person, not someone who stood amongst the crowd.

It was a peaceful weekend afternoon, passing time at the local convenience store to buy whatever snack you felt like eating before heading home to retire for the day and possibly binge a series you’ve been meaning to watch. Walking down the bread aisle, you caught a glimpse of a very familiar sight. Milk bread. Chuckling, you found yourself reminiscing about the old high school days where you and Oikawa would stop by to buy a pack of milk bread whenever he ran out. You haven’t eaten one since the day he left you.

It wouldn’t hurt to try one now, you thought to yourself. Reaching for the closest pack, another hand suddenly reached out to the one you had set your eyes onto. Both yours and the stranger’s arms retracted back in embarrassment, “S-sorry! You can go ahead and grab it.” You profusely apologised, not noticing the expression the stranger wore. Upon their silence, you drew your attention to the man standing beside you and blinked twice.

It seemed like the only option when the stranger before you was not just any shopper, it was none other than Tōru Oikawa. If you were to tell your 18-year-old self that ten years later, you’d be face to face with your ex-boyfriend, you wouldn’t have believed it. Everything felt strange—from the way the ambience of the store faded into white nothingness, to the way Oikawa felt painfully familiar yet different; he wore the same genuine shock plastered on your face—eyes wide, brows sky high, and lips slightly parted. You wondered if his ears were ringing too or if his heart threatened to leap from his chest. Oikawa was the first to break his trance, searching his mind high and low to find something, anything to say to you.

He was speaking yet nothing was heard on your end, only your own storm of thoughts. All you could muster was to really take him in. His hazel eyes shone beneath the harsh ivory lights of the store—everything about him was the same but unfamiliar; his hair was styled the same way ten years ago but a little shorter, his evident athletic build, his sun kissed skin, his aura. It was your turn to finally return to reality as Oikawa warily waved a slender hand inches from your face, “O-Oikawa. . ?” was all you could come up with, tone airy yet just above a whisper for him to hear. Oikawa greeted your unreadable expression with a familiar warm smile as if the two of you were ten years back in time, hearts beating for one another.

“It’s been a while, huh?” He hummed.

Everything was a blur—from the painfully awkward start of the conversation, to brazenly inviting him back to your apartment to prolong the spontaneous catch up. You were surprised because you both managed to flow into a smooth conversation where no one had to think of anything and everything just to keep the impending silence away. It was weird, you’ve always imagined that seeing Oikawa once again would reel you back in the most unpleasant way; the deepest memories you’ve sworn to reject resurfacing.

But the whole situation before you was a damn far cry from the scenarios in your mind—Oikawa had no hesitations telling you about his life for the past ten years, even going out of his way to inform you of his favourite local meals back in Argentina and how he applied for his citizenship, so you did the same thing. It was like being a teenager all over again, gushing to one another about your interests, and whatever else there was to talk about. You caught a glint in Oikawa’s hazel eyes as he spoke endlessly, almost as if he had been waiting ten whole years just to tell you everything that’s been going on in his life, like he knew the two of you were bound to meet again one way or another.

A solemn smile made its way to his face, the atmosphere in your apartment shifting with it. You held a breath, heart violently pounding against your chest possibly knowing where the conversation was going. “You were the only one I wanted to see, you know? Before I. .” Oikawa trailed off, looking down at his fingers. You nodded, knowing exactly what he was referring to.

It pained you to even imagine it: 18-year-old Tōru Oikawa restlessly scanning the bustling airport for your familiar figure, eyes darting between the ocean of people coming in and out of the terminal, heart sinking down to his stomach as each second passed without your presence. Despite the countless times Iwaizumi reminded him you weren’t coming, he waited. Oikawa waited and waited until he needed to proceed to the airport security, each heavy step further into the airport, he’d hoped you’d call out his name and give him one last hug before he left for Argentina but you never came. That night, Oikawa realised he’d left a piece of his heart back home.

”I’m sorry. .” Was all you could muster. In your defence, he wasn’t the only one hurting—you were torn between saving what’s left of your broken heart and giving in to your desires. Of course, you picked the former. That time, it seemed like the best idea, though, you’d be lying to yourself if you said there weren’t restless nights where you wish you’d gone to see Oikawa off. It plagued you for as long as your cruel mind wanted, scenarios of what could have been a proper goodbye seared into your brain—a one last hug before letting Oikawa chase his dreams, uncertain when you’d be able to see him again.

Oikawa let out a sigh, a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, “I missed you.” He took a small sip of his drink, letting the sweet taste linger on his tongue before nervously swallowing. It took all his willpower to avoid your gaze, staring at the ivory walls ahead, hoping you’d say something sooner or later instead of letting the small confession awkwardly linger in the air. You chuckled, a humourless one,

“You know, I’d be more upset if you didn’t.”

The man whipped his head to your direction, meeting that meaningful gaze of yours; he looked like a deer caught in the headlights—eyes wide and lips slightly parted. For the first time in a while, Tōru Oikawa felt his heart race; it wasn’t like any other, not like the adrenaline rush that took over his body before a match, not like the nervousness he felt when he boarded the plane to Argentina for the first time. It was unique. Uniquely yours. Only you made him feel this way. In the blink of an eye, Oikawa felt like he was pulled back in time, a teenager all over again, brimming with such emotions. If it weren’t for his quick senses, he wouldn’t have noticed the way your gaze subtly shifted downwards—to his lips—and then back up to his eyes.

Have you been on edge all this time, too? Filled with overwhelming emotions? He thought. Yes, it’s been ten long years but that doesn’t mean his heart did not beat for you anymore; it doesn’t mean that he has stopped thinking about you; it doesn’t mean that he did not want to kiss you the moment he laid his eyes on you back at the convenience store. Surely, you didn’t feel the same, right? But then again, it’s been a decade and Oikawa’s feelings remained indifferent to when he left.

A brush of gentle fingers against your cheek caused your eyes to instinctively close, knowing fully well what was about to happen next. A single click from the white clock that hung on your wall. A second. And then Oikawa’s lips were on yours. The kiss was anything but foreign—sure, it felt stiff at first, suddenly not knowing how to match your lips with his but it has been ten years. The kiss was meek but after a heartbeat, you and Oikawa moved in complete unison, falling into that specific pattern you both knew—how he moved his lips, how he let out gasps in between, how he eagerly prodded his tongue. Your head spun, hands exploring Oikawa’s built torso while his own focused on your head, tugging at the strands and gently rubbing your nape.

The atmosphere shifted with the newly found desire, small moans and gasps filled the walls of your apartment as Oikawa kissed you with hunger—as if he was a starved man. He didn’t hesitate to explore you with his tongue, groaning into your mouth before pulling away to take a breather—chests heaving as you both gasped for air, faces mere centimetres from each other, hot breaths intertwining. He looked at you with hooded eyes, gaze filled with carnal desire as he gave your swollen lips a small peck. “I want you so bad . .” Oikawa breathed out, eyes tracing every dip and curve of your features.

Cupping his crimson red cheeks, you gave him a small smile, “I’m all yours.” Always have been and always will be, you wanted to add but already you had an idea Oikawa knew that more than anyone else.

The short journey from the living room to your bedroom was a blur—it was messy, eager hands exploring each other’s body, hungry lips inseparable from one another, articles of clothing swiftly discarded along the path to your bedroom. Lying atop the sheets, your eyes wandered along Oikawa’s bare sun kissed torso—his physique was much bigger than you last remembered, muscles flexing with every movement that had you painfully clenching around nothing.

He stood at the foot of the bed, chestnut hair tousled from the work of your fingers, bare chest heaving from the kiss, and fingers working at the zip of his pants. You took the time to really drink him in—the entirety of him; reality settling on you how much he had grown as a man. Oikawa was no longer that naïve 18-year-old who swallowed all his fears and insecurities with a flirtatious façade.

He eagerly pulled down the remaining clothes he had on, swiftly crawling up the bed towards you, not giving any time to revel at the sight of his bare cock before kissing you again, his fingers intertwining with your own.

It felt surreal, from the way the heat of Oikawa’s naked body felt against your own to the way his kisses explored parts of you that he’s never seen before. He took his time, admiring every inch of your bare body, not hesitating to blurt out praises that came to his mind first thing. “You’re beautiful.” Oikawa whispers against the warmth of your skin followed by an open-mouthed kiss.

He held you gently, caressing and massaging every bit of skin he could get his hands on. He knew better than to rush such an intimate moment with you, especially when he’s been fantasizing about this for the past decade—fantasizing about how your skin would feel beneath his searing touch; how you’d sound when he stimulates the most sensitive parts of your body, how you’d look when pleasure is all you can think about. It drove him absolutely impatient but for you, he’s willing to slow down if it meant he could savour these moments with you—Oikawa has patiently waited for ten years, full of uncertainty. What more was a few minutes to bask in your beauty?

Attentive as ever, he scanned your face for any sign of discomfort, focusing on the way you moaned and scrunched your face in pleasure as he tasted you. God, you tasted like pure heaven—divine. Oikawa could get lost between your legs forever, everything about you drove him crazy. Not to mention how your scent had him completely whipped.

The night continued on like this, Oikawa eagerly exploring your body, pleasuring you in ways you didn’t know even existed—it was almost like he had a list of things at the back of his mind, neatly tucked away for when this specific moment comes. There was never a moment of uncertainty, his body swiftly moving into the next act, bringing you with him. Despite your own pleas to return the pleasure, Oikawa refused, even as his cock leaked with pre-cum, begging to be touched by you. He didn’t have to do all the work but he did, only because he wanted to. He wanted to show you how much his body yearned and desired to be close to yours; ten years was no easy wait. Sure, Oikawa had a fair share of mere hookups with other women but they weren’t you. They will never be you.

As the moon shone amongst the ebony skies, moonlight seeped through the window, casting a faint ethereal glow upon your sweat-coated bodies—skin shining like the stars above. You held onto Oikawa’s shoulders for dear life, ribbons of moans and curses tumbled past your lips and into the thick air of the room, travelling to the ceiling above.

He moved with fervour, hips relentlessly driving into your own as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. Back and forth, back and forth, the steady rhythm of Oikawa’s hips, jolting your body along each forceful thrust. It was heaven on earth, naked bodies tangled amongst the ivory sheets as you lost yourselves in each other, one thing in mind. You both cared about nothing at this point, not even the fact that he still had to go back home—to Argentina; not even the fact that your hearts beat as one, interlacing with one another as buried feelings blossomed out in the open—the unsaid, the desire, everything came beautifully crashing down upon the two of you, unsure about what the future holds. That was a conversation for tomorrow, anyway.

Amidst the overwhelming pleasure, the creaking of the bed, and the lewd moans that filled your room, Oikawa found your hand once again, interlacing his damp fingers with yours. He gave it a small squeeze, moaning right into your ear before slipping out a confession, “I love you so much.” It caught you off guard, eyes fluttering open, returning his lustful gaze. “I—” “It’s okay. .” Oikawa cut you off, steadying his breath. He knew exactly what you’d say—that you love him, too—but somehow hearing those words from you after all these years was even more painful than rejecting him because at the end of the day he had to go home.

The night carried on with more and more pleasure, each orgasm becoming more intense than the previous, the movements of your bodies showed signs of exhaustion but none dared to stop—as if stopping was somewhat going to take one away from the other. You’ve never felt anything like this before, waves of pleasure rolling out and crashing into you repeatedly; all you could really do was hold Oikawa tightly, whispering sweet nothings against his neck. God, you could only wish for this to last forever.

As the morning rolled around, the sun shone brightly through your window, slowly burning your skin the longer you stayed in one position. Groaning, you stretched your naked body, muscles painfully crying out from overuse. Normally, you would have cared about it but the spot beside you was cold and empty, no sign of Oikawa. The realisation hit you, heart sinking to the depths of your stomach. Did he leave already? And not even saying goodbye? The loud sound coming from the kitchen pulled you out of the storm of unpleasant thoughts. Ignoring the weakness of your legs, you did your best to slip into a fresh pair of underwear before grabbing Oikawa’s shirt that lay at the entrance of your room to head to the kitchen.

You sucked in a breath. There he stood, only wearing pants from last night while navigating through the small space of your kitchen. He hummed a familiar tune, the saccharine sound of his voice mixing with the sizzling of the eggs he cooked. “Oikawa.” The man before you turned at the sound of your voice, pleasantly shocked, “Good morning, sleepyhead.” He greeted in a singsong voice. You would’ve called him ‘cute’ if it weren’t for the evident lovebites, hues of dark purple and red peppering his torso—it immediately reminded you of last night, cheeks heating up at the lewd memories. “Take a seat. This is done.” Oikawa skilfully plated the eggs, grabbing the freshly toasted bread before heading to the table where you now sat. It was weird yet nice to see him so domestic, something you never really experienced back then.

“Thank you.” You look up at him, a faint smile dancing upon your lips. Oikawa shook his head, “It’s nothing. Just a simple breakfast.” You weren’t talking about the breakfast, though, and he knew that as well but dared not to bring it up. It was bittersweet, really, how the two of you acted right now felt so right but so wrong at the same time—you both acted like a normal couple during a normal morning, as if there wasn’t a return ticket neatly tucked inside Oikawa’s passport that weighed his heart heavy with each passing second in your presence.

Thank you for showing me what could have been.

That was what you meant earlier. Getting the pleasure to look into the life of what could have been with Tōru Oikawa wasn’t much but it put your yearning heart at ease—that in another life, he’d be cooking eggs for you again without having to think about flying back home; that in another life, you ended up together. Maybe if you were still eighteen, you would have cried, screamed at him for getting your hopes up, for leaving you once again, for breaking your heart a second time, you weren’t a teenager anymore but that didn’t mean you were immune to seeing him leave you again—you just got older, and became better at swallowing unwanted emotions.

That’s right. You weren’t a teenager anymore. “You’re leaving tomorrow.” You bit the inside of your cheek, addressing the elephant in the room; you swore Oikawa flinched a little at your straightforwardness. It wasn’t pretty to hear but it also wasn’t a lie. He took a small bite, carefully swallowing the piece before meeting your gaze, “Yeah, Iwa is dropping me off at the airport in the afternoon. .” His sentence lingered in the air, it didn’t dissipate, it stayed there waiting to be finished. You remained silent despite having an idea of what was to come next, you wanted him to say it, just like he did ten years ago. Oikawa nervously cleared his throat,

“Will you come see me off tomorrow?”

Much to Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s surprise, you came to see the former off—a little breathless from jogging around the terminal but at least you were in one piece. You didn’t notice the way Iwaizumi’s eyes widened at the love bites on your neck matching his best friend’s one; he was well aware of what happened between you and Oikawa the other day but just didn’t expect the intensity of it, especially with the situation now, nonetheless, he remained silent. Iwaizumi figured he’d talk to you about it later.

Everything slowed down as Oikawa set his hazel eyes on you—the bustling of the airport, the time displayed on the large digital clock, his racing heart. What he felt right now was a far cry from that day when he left for the first time; ten years ago, everything felt like it was slipping past his fingers. Oikawa remembers pacing back and forth just outside the men’s toilet, Iwaizumi’s attempts to calm him down fell deaf on his ears—all the former could hear was the uncomfortable beat of his heart, and the buzz around him. He tried his best to calm down, he really did but to no avail because at the back of his mind, you were the remedy. If Oikawa told his 18-year-old self that he wouldn’t have to stress so much about flying back to Argentina anymore, his younger self would most likely not believe him—having permanently associated the airport with the dreadful feeling of missing something. Missing someone.

Ten years later, he knows not to worry anymore. “Tōru.” You called out, giving Iwaizumi a quick wave before walking towards the taller man. “You came.” He replied, breathless, not knowing whether to scream at the fact that you came to see him off or called him by his first name. Oh, how Oikawa endlessly prayed to the universe for the day his name rolls off your tongue once again. It was sweet—meant to be voiced by you and only you. The three of you exchanged casual conversation like it was back in high school all over again—small banters here and there between the two men, a little teasing on the side, and most importantly, the unsaid thoughts.

You didn’t want this to end, you didn’t want to let him go but you knew better. Oikawa gave his best friend a firm hug and turned to you, arms spread wide, a sad smile etched on his face. “I’ll miss you so so much.” You let out a sigh, inhaling his scent for one last time as he tightened his hold around you. Oikawa rested his chin on the crown of your head, a light chuckle escaping his lips, “I’d be more upset if you didn’t.” He pulled away, cupping your face and resting his forehead against your own,

“I love you so much. You know that, right?” “I love you too, Tōru.”

Who knew that ten years later you’d be watching the back of your ex lover’s figure walk away from you as he leaves the country—it was silly how the universe worked but you never once doubted it. Despite how cruel it was, you’d already come to terms with it; finally letting go of Tōru Oikawa. You both had different paths in life to pursue, and that was that. It just wasn’t meant to be.

Iwaizumi gave you a friendly pat on the back, noticing the way tears quickly formed as Oikawa faced the other way. Yes, you were older now, more mature but that meant nothing as the love of your life walked away from you once again. You didn’t want to admit it back then but ever since Oikawa left for Argentina, he had taken a piece of your heart with him. And maybe you’ll just have to live with the fact that your heart will stay incomplete—a piece of it remaining eighteen thousand kilometres away from you.

#zhonglism ༄#oikawa tooru #haikyuu #oikawa angst #oikawa smut #oikawa x reader #oikawa x you #oikawa x y/n #haikyuu angst #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #smut #mdni

236 notes · View notes

tayytayy12 · 25 days

Text

National Anthem | Reader x LS2

Summary | American boy falls head over heels for his English girl

Warnings | None, just fluff

FaceClaim | Beabadobee

Type | SMAU

Yourusername

Liked by | LoganSargeant, Lilymhe, LilyZneimer, Laufey, and 100,280 others

Tagged | @/LoganSargeant, @/Laufey

Yourusername - Some of us (Logan), go to places like Monaco on private planes, and others (Me and Laufey) hop onto a double decker bus and go where the driver takes us, miss you American boy rah 🤍🤍🇺🇸🇺🇸🦅🦅

View all comments

User1 - I want to be in Y/n’s and Laufey’s duo

User2 - Its a need

Yourusername - *trio* @/Junialin has a cold 🥲

User3 - Thanks Y/n for feeding us with Logan pictures

User4 - She and Logan are literally everything to me 😭

Laufey - She bought Twinkie’s cause she’s never ever seen them before, then remembered her boyfriends American and got sad because she couldn’t be the first to discover American things anymore

Yourusername - Don’t be a hater ❌❌❌

User5 - She’s so British

LoganSargeant - Miss you too, Boris 🤍🤍

Yourusername - DID YOU JUST CALL ME BORIS JOHNSON?

Lilymhe - COME TO THE PADDOCK NOW 👹👹👹

Yourusername - Tell that to my uni teacher bby 🥲

User6 - I need more of her paddock fits, her silverstone 23 ate so hard

User7 - She’s been to one race in over a whole season, she needs to show up for him more smh

LoganSargeant

Liked by - Yourusername, JuniaLin and 132,862 others

Tagged | @/yourusername

LoganSargeant - A few photos that have been sent to me by my English girl in the past couple days, I’m having serious withdrawals right now.

View all comments

Yourusername - Me too baby 🥲

LoganSargeant - ITS BEEN TWO MONTHS

Yourusername - IK 😩

User8 - WHO HAS WHO SAVED AS ‘my lover ♡’ ?!????!???!!???

Yourusername - Lo to me, he’s my American boy 🤞😙

User9 - SHE GOT A CAT TATOO LMAO

User10 - This man is saying he’s having withdrawals from not seeing his girl and mine can’t even text me back

User11 - So real

User12 - We all need a Logan Sargeant

Laufey - She cried to a picture of you on her bed side table last night 💕💕

Yourusername - I hate you

User13 - She’s so unsupportive of him, Oml

User14 - Girl what

User15 - I see their point, he’s always with her on his brakes but she can nerve show up to a GP for him

User16 - She’s defo a gold digger

User17 - She’s a full time journalism student at CAMBRIDGE, she has more important things to do

User18 - And she’s been with him since she was sixteen and he was seventeen and they met when her brother was racing with him, she is anything but a gold digger

User19 - ANDDD, she’s said so many times that she’d rather be at Logan’s races supporting him then being anywhere else, their probably the most unproblematic loving couple in the whole sport world

LoganSargeant added to their story!

Replies -

User20 - HES GOING TO SEE Y/N AHHH

Yourusername - Oh my fucking god what

LoganSargeant - Surprise pretty girl 🤍

Yourusername

Liked by - LoganSargeant, GracieAbrams and 762,910 others

Tagged | @/LoganSargeant

Yourusername - I’m liking this American boy 💕 the best surprise ever I love you my Eagle Grah wtf is a kilometre USA pretty boy, it was the worst months of my life without you, the US to my UK, forever the ant to my dec

View all comments

User21 - STOP I LOVE THEM

User22 - The forehead kiss 🥲

User23 - “MY PRONOUNS ARE USA🇺🇸🦅🇺🇸🏈🇺🇸” meets “WHAT ON EARTH IS GOING ON IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS🇬🇧🇬🇧🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿⛪️⛪️🏰🏰”

Comments liked by author and LoganSargeant

LoganSargeant - My favourite girl forever 🤍

Yourusername - I loooooveeee youuuuu 🤍🤍

User24 - My favourite couple ever

User25 - I need this kind of love

User26 - We all do

LoganSargeant - My Royal Monarch 🤍

Yourusername - My national anthem 🤍

——

396 notes · View notes

sexydoffyman · 3 months

Text

OBSESSIVE p.2

navigation

genre: smut bit of fluff at the end (Yandere vibes)

characters: König

A/N: Taglist: @water-color-duck @woomiethehyperactivething @le0thely0n @hazelnutbitch @apotatoishereee @mindscape123

König has been frustrated for a long time. He doesn't fucking know what to do anymore. You were on a mission together, and all he could think about was you. When you rested on the cold concrete, he caressed your cheek, wishing that you'd want him as bad as he wanted you.

Due to complications that happened during the mission, you had to travel about 40 kilometres on foot while avoiding enemy soldiers. Because you had the order to not engage and to avoid contact, you had to lengthen your trip by a lot. You had to hide from enemies for hours without moving an inch.

While you were annoyed because you couldn't fight your way out of certain situations and had to waste time, König was more than pleased. Being in a constricted space with you for hours, what more could he ask for.

He also always got to have you on his lap due to the size difference. You did feel his hard-on, but you viewed it as a normal reaction to friction.

It has been three days since you started your journey, and you just passed the 40-kilometre line, but still, you had a long way to go. He was also growing annoyed because he never got to release himself.

You were walking through a darker forest. It was hit with a drought recently, but the night covered the yellow colour of grass blades that grew there. You were walking slowly, making sure to pay attention to where you were stepping.

When suddenly "WHACK", you slammed into the ground. König laid on your body and stared straight into your eyes. You thought there was an enemy, and that was why he put you to the ground so quickly. That was when he put his hand on your thigh. He pushed your body to the ground. He needed you. He needed your touch.

You rolled your eyes and whispered, "Did you make sure no one's around?" You were met with him kissing your neck and with, "Of course I did. Wouldn't put your life in danger." He said it in such a soft voice.

You hugged him with your hands on his back, "Just hurry it up." At that, he immediately started unbuckling his and your pants. His mouth kept on kissing your neck. He aligned his dick with your entrance and slowly pushed in. You tilted your head back just from the sheer stretch.

Small cries escaped your mouth, to which he soothingly kissed you. "You're so beautiful, Shatz" He reassured you. How good you were at taking him. His thrusts were slow and soft. He couldn't really rail you without risking your life. The dried-up grass and leaves cracking under you.

He finished inside of you after a very short while. He kept on holding your body firmly. "Let's rest for the night." You recommended. "Colonel", You added. "Don't call me that. You know how you make me feel every time you call me that."

You smirked as you put your pants back on. You got on the ground and rested. You heard him fix his pants, too. After a while, you felt his arms creep up around your body, making you feel warm and safe.

making you feel his.

309 notes · View notes

lovelytsunoda · 11 months

Text

stand by me // mick schumacher

summary: the past few seasons have been rough on mick, and sometimes all y/n could do was reassure him that she was there. because sometimes, standing by someone is the best that you can do.

pairing: mick schumacher x female reader

warnings: haas, guenther steiner. mentions of serious crashes. sad mickey, burning of old haas merch, angie makes an appearance

when the night has come, and the moon is the only light we see. i won't cry, no, no, no, i won't shed a tear. just as long as you tell me, say you're gonna stand by me.

it was one thing to watch your boyfriend hit a barrier at two hundred kilometres an hour.

it was a totally different thing for every mechanic in the garage to simply roll their eyes instead of expressing some iota of concern.

“what the fuck is wrong with these people.” y/n huffed, moving to push past the viewing desk, fully intent on fighting guenther in his own garage before louise pulled her back

“it’s not worth it.” the older woman reminded her as she tried to keep a clear head.

micks headset wasn’t working; it was like gary was talking to a wall. nobody knew if mick was okay, and the only reaction she could see from guenther was annoyance. even kevin had come over the comms to ask if mick was okay.

y/n took her headset off, stumbling over to gary as she tried to keep her emotions in check. getting upset wouldn’t be good for anybody, but that crash was bad. the car had essentially split in half, taking mick with it as the session was red flagged.

“gary, is he okay?” she asked shakily, reaching for something to hold on to. “gary, i need to know.”

“i can’t hear him talking, but I can hear movement. i think he’s trying to climb out, which is a good sign.”

she didn’t start breathing again until she knew he was out of the car, knew that her mickey was safe. when they brought him to the medical bay, louise helped her there on shaky legs, and she sat with mick while he called his mom, and then they both cried together.

but from that moment on, they knew his days with haas were numbered.

“gene called me a dead man walking.” his voice sounded so small. he had been transferred to a hospital and taken in for extra observation. his mother was flying in from switzerland, and the fluorescent lights were giving him a headache.

“gene haas better watch his fucking back.” y/n scowled. “what does he know about this goddamn sport? he’s a tax criminal!”

but that day changed things. even though he knew he had y/n in his corner, you could see the clouds in mick schumachers eyes, the little glimpses of his father coming through. he would t talk to her about it, insistent that he could somehow change gene’s mind.

next race weekend, she walked with sad eyes and a heavy heart towards the mercedes motorhome and the one man that she knew would never steer her wrong.

toto wolff had become something almost like a surrogate father for y/n once she had started hanging around the track more. the older man looked out for her when mick couldn’t. toto knew she had never felt at ease in the haas garage, that there was something about the atmosphere in guenther steiners garage that made her uncomfortable.

“hey, toto.” she sighed, sinking into the austrians arms as he opened the office door.

“hey, kiddo. how’s mick doing?”

she frowned, following toto into his office. “he won’t talk about it. he still thinks there’s something he can do, and he shuts me down every time I suggest he start talking another team. I think guenther is stringing him along.”

it hurt that mick was emotionally firewalling her. yes, they still talked, but never about his career. he always shut her down with that sad look of his, or a suggestively placed kiss, attempting to distract her from the topic with the thought of something else.

she was dead worried about him.

“the air is thinner where gunther is from. it’s impairing his ability to think properly.”

she snorted. “toto, I’m worried sick about mick, he needs to talk to someone. you knew his dad. so did bonno. maybe talking to someone who knew micheal will help. I don’t know, but I can’t let this keep going on.”

“I’ll give him a call. you’re doing the best you can, y/n. please don’t beat yourself up over doing or not doing enough. it’s going to take time for mick to feel like himself again.”

“I know. I just wish that there was more I could do.”

later that week, she and mick flew to texas to visit his sister and her boyfriend ian at the family ranch. the moon was high, refracting off the water and illuminating the evergreens. mick and ian sat outside by the fire pit, angie scampering around their feet. gina and y/n were inside the house, stuffing a cardboard bankers box full of old haas merch. it had become glaringly clear to both women that mick wasn't likely to have a seat the following season.

and mick wasn't taking it well. he was still processing it, but there had been times where she felt like the man she loved would cry himself to sleep. she had the suspicion that once she went to sleep, her lover began to cry, so that she would never see him in such pain.

gina and y/n came outside, two cardboard boxes in hand as they met the men by the fire pit. they had beer bottles in hand and sad smiles on their faces as y/n rejoined her boyfriend, sitting on his lap before gently kissing his cheek.

"don't think about it, mickey. you've talked to toto, right? and jost? you aren't completely out of options for next year." y/n frowned, running her thumb over mick's bare arm. "don't give up hope just yet."

mick kissed her softly, resting his cheek against her skin. "why did you put all of my old haas merch in a cardboard box?"

"because we're burning it." she said matter-of-factly, getting to her feet and grabbing a baseball cap from the top of the box. "it'll be cathartic."

she stood in front of the fire pit, listening to the wooden logs crackle and pop as she frisbee-threw the cap into the fire, watching the fabric catch fire. she flipped the bird at the burning object with both fingers, shouting insults at guenther steiner as she watched it burn.

“take that you old austrian bastard. I bet gunethers cock is like, minuscule and that’s why he has to call his boyfriend gene before he makes any decisions.”

mick laughed a little, pulling a polo shirt out of the box.

“I mean come in now, he calls gene more than he calls his wife.” gina added. “who fucking does that? if I was his wife I’d be asking for a divorce right about now.”

mick balled up the shirt in his hands, punting it into the fire as if it was a baseball. the fabric caught fire instantly, swallowed by the orange flames as they spread across the royal blue fabric, leaving blackened ash in its wake.

“you’re right.” mick exhales, putting an arm around his girlfriend . “that felt really good.”

lifting their beer bottles to the sky and turning up the stereo, all summer long by kid rock blasting loud enough that the speakers shook, the family sang along, throwing various haas-related memorabilia into the fire and watching it go up in a cloud of dark grey smoke.

“they made ugly-ass merch anyways.”

“uh, guys, is it supposed to smell this rancid?” ian asked, scrunching up his face at the smell of burning plastic and fabric.

“oh fuck.”

“we didn’t think this through! ian, come help me get some water to put this out with.”

ian and gina ran off to get water, angie barking after them as mick and y/n fanned at the fire, laughing crazily as they used their sweaters as fans, hoping to tamp down some of the blaze.

“hey, babe, I want to tell you something.” mick smiled. “I want you to be the first to know.”

giving up on fanning the fire, as the oxygen was making the situation worse, y/n paused, her wool sweater falling limp in her hands as she looked at her lover.

“toto wants me to sign as a reserve driver next year. he’s already lost nyck to alphatauri and I think stoffel is going to aston martin. if haas drop me, I still have options. I can still come back to the field somehow.”

“oh, mickey, that’s wonderful.” y/n gushed, throwing her sweater down on a deck chair before moving over to mick and wrapping her arms around him. “I’m so proud of you.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you.” mick reminded her, kissing her softly, cradling her body in his arms as they swayed back and forth to ‘hero’ by enrique iglesias, the song playing softly in the background as they kissed in the stinky firelight.

angie padded towards the couple, nuzzling into y/n’s leg as they stared lovingly into each others eyes.

“I love you, y/n.”

“I love you too, mickey.”

TAGS

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @oconso @lorarri @scuderiamh @sidcrosbyspuck @thatsdemko @scuderiasundays @silverstonesainz

#mick schumacher #mick schumacher imagine #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #tina: the series by lovelytsunoda

515 notes · View notes

sunsetkerr · 4 months

Text

SHATTERED | s.kerr

summary: sam has ruptured her acl and you are the first person she calls

pairing: fem!reader x sam kerr

notes: me at work literally wanting to cry, for all my mourners. my heart going out to sammy.

YOU WERENT EXPECTING SAM TO CALL. She was in Morocco for training and you hadn’t heard from her much, knowing she was in her element. You had seen the pictures and videos of her training, she looked great. When you had the chance to speak to her she said she felt great.

So when your phone rang and Sam was sobbing on the other end, you knew something was wrong.

But you never expected her to say what she did.

“My ACL,” She sobbed, “I’ve fucking ruptured it”

Your heart dropped.

“What?” You were in shock.

Suddenly it all hit at once and you felt like throwing up. “Do you want me to come to you? Are you okay? What the fuck happened?” You felt bad for bombarding her with so many questions, but in the moment you didn’t even notice. You just wanted to know what was going through her head.

“Please come” She cried, “Please” She had never sounded so small. “I’ll pay for it,” She was so silly, “I n-need you.”

You were on a flight in the next two hours.

The three hours on that plane felt like the longest, most gruelling hours of your life. Three hours without hearing from Sam, not knowing what was happening or if she was alright.

You landed and almost strangled the taxi driver for going ten kilometres under the speed limit. You just wanted to get to Sam. When you finally did, Millie was waiting for you in the hotel lobby.

You held onto her for longer than you usually would. You didn’t even get a chance to properly congratulate her on her engagement. She didn’t mind though, knowing that you were close to tears about Sam. Millie took you up to the hotel room where Sam had just been taken back to.

Millie explained what had happened, she saw the whole thing. Your heart felt like it was in your throat listening to her. Your poor girl.

You were quiet going into the hotel room. Millie didn’t follow you in. The lights were off and the curtains were shutting out the Moroccan sun. There was Sam, sitting in bed, her entire leg in a massive brace, just like when she was a teenager. crutches were sitting against the bedside table.

She was crying still, hadn’t even looked up to see who it was. You slowly put your bags down and walked to the other side of the bed, hopping in as gently as you could not to jostle her.

You pulled her into your chest and held her as tight as you could. “I’m so sorry my love,”

She just cried. No words were said.

Just you, repeating “I am so so sorry”.

#sam kerr x reader #sam kerr imagine #sam kerr one shot #woso one shot #woso x reader #woso imagine #sam kerr #one shots . * • .

281 notes · View notes

targaryenluvs · 2 years

Text

all too well - l.h & p.g

summary: in which an angry pierre stuffs his relationship up and desperately tries to make it up to his devoted girlfriend. and while trying to make up for it he realizes that he’s already lost her to a certain british man. loosely based on ‘all to well’ by taylor swift.

warnings: A N G S T, I REPEAT, A N G S T, profanity, drinking, just sadness, toxicity, anger, crying, screaming, pining?? if unhealthy relationships/toxic relationships hurt you or offend you, 2022 british grand prix (ifykyk), mentions of eating disorders and body dysmorphia and shitty mental health

word count: 2.0k

pairing: lewis hamilton x female reader, asshole!pierre gasly x female reader, platonic!f1 drivers x female reader, platonic!wags x female reader

requested: yes! here! highly recommend listening to all too well.

It was horrible.

You had been sitting with the engineers during the Grand Prix, cheering your boyfriend Pierre on as you watched on. You felt as if the world stopped when him and Yuki spun off in unison. You could feel the world stop around you as you silently prayed they were okay.

Collective groans of disappointment and shouts of anger broke out around you as you quickly flicked on the switch in front of you, allowing you to speak to your Pierre. “Pierre! Honey please, say something!” But you didn’t, just Yuki’s outburst of anger.

“Here.” Pierre replied as you let go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding. You sunk into your seat as you held your head in your hands, shielding your face from the Netflix cameras which no doubt wanted your reaction for a dramatic made-up plot line for the next season of Drive to Survive.

It wasn’t long after before Pierre angrily walked through the Garage, frustration radiating from him as he weighed himself before stomping off. You followed him to his drivers room before shutting the door. Before you could turn around he stuffed his face into your neck as he broke out in sobs.

“Shh, I know. Pierre baby I know, it's okay.” You spoke as your hands combed through his tangled hair. “Y/n. Always me? All the bad things, me. What did I do to deserve it?” The French-man cried as you felt yourself begin to cry too. “It’s not you love. You know it was Yuki’s fault. He’ll own up to it, I know he will. You’re amazing okay don’t beat yourself up over this. It was absolutely out of your hands. You know that. You did your best.”

“It is! But that doesn’t make up for my shitty season! I don’t deserve this.” He shouted. “Pierre, not here. Don’t get angry here. The media will eat it up, let’s go home. Fuck the interviews. I’ll make you feel better okay? Whatever you want, we’ll do it mon chéri.”

“Fuck the media! Fuck you! Fucking isn’t going to make up for me missing out this race okay? You can’t make me feel better with food or cuddling Y/n.”

“That’s not what I’m saying Pierre! Please let’s get out of here, please, please.”

“This is my fucking job. I can’t just leave because I’m mad. I’m not a model who sells photos of my self for money okay? My job isn’t easy like yours.”

You scoffed, “Easy? Easy? My job isn’t just sitting around looking pretty. Shit goes on behind the scenes that you have no idea about. Bitchy models, photographers judging you all day, every day, tabloids and media making up the most absurd rumours up and everyone eating them up, shitty mental health, body image issues, starving yourself to fit in a dress! Just because you sit in a car, racing at 200 kilometres an hour and have a dangerous job doesn’t make my job any less than yours!”

“Mon amour-”

“No! I’m sick of this! You taking your shitty results out on me when I have nothing to do with it! You are driving the car, not me. Your fans attacking and picking apart our relationship and you letting them. You never defend me when interviewers ask the most foul questions about me. ‘Is she good in bed?’ are you kidding me?! ‘Oh you have no idea.’ And then laughing it off. Travelling the world and never getting out, constantly on the move. It’s so draining. Cancelling fucking Paris Fashion Week when I have never missed a year because you convinced me too. You. All you. I’ve missed out on huge movie and TV show deals, Bullet Train, Euphoria, No Way Home, Don’t fucking Worry Darling. Harry fucking Styles!” You shouted in his face as he sighed.

(Bare with me I know Paris FW is a few weeks before Bahrain)

“Then fucking go! God if I hold you back so much leave! I don’t fucking need you here, anywhere matter of fact. I don’t need you Y/n. I can get anyone I fucking want. Go to Harry Styles. Go to whoever you fucking want. Whine to them. They’ll never love you like I do. Fuck you like I do. You need me. But then again you. You need me, I don’t need you so fuck off. Get your shit and leave bitch.”

(foul, im so sorry 😭😭)

“Mate what are you doing!” Charles shouted as he burst through the door, followed by Charlotte, Isabel and Carlos. “Oh baby I’m so sorry.” Charlotte said softly as she and Isa wrapped you in a hug. You didn’t react. You didn’t even know what was happening. What pulled you out of your trance was the groaning of your boyfriend, well, ex now.

“What the fuck Charles?” Pierre yelled as Charles retracted his fist from his face.

Lewis ran in at the sound of yelling, Angela hot in his tail. “What the hell is going-” Lewis stopped dead in his tracks at the scene, Pierre soothing his right cheek, Charles with balled fists, Carlos pulling Charles away while Isa and Charlotte hugged you. You.

You with your mascara stained face. You with your sobs and sniffles.

It broke him.

“My beautiful, beautiful Y/n.” He whispered as Isa and Charlotte slowly handed you off to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he kissed your forehead. As you stood in the hallway with him you felt, safe, loved. Which meant a lot since you hadn’t felt comfortable in a long time.

You could feel the pain. The anger. The late nights worrying whether Pierre would come home or not. Trying to soothe him after bad races only to be met with a empty hotel room the second you took your eyes off of him. The rumours and the side eyes that floated around the grid when you walked hand in hand with him even after videos of him getting too handsy with some rando at a club surfaced and spiralled. Even your friends and family contacted you, your best friends Maddi and Sayda had reached out to see if you were okay.

‘Poor girl probably doesn’t even know.’

‘Why is she still with him? Oh god is she pregnant?’

‘She probably cheats too, you know how models are.’

But none of that mattered, as long as you were with Lewis. “Come on let’s get you cleaned up.” Charlotte said as she linked her arm with yours, “Don’t waste your tears on him sweetheart.” Isa whispered as she moved your hair out of your face.

“What the fuck is he doing with my girlfriend?” Pierre yelled at Carlos as he pointed at Lewis.

“She is not and will never be your girlfriend again. You’re disgusting. It’s one thing to be angry and accidentally yell. But calling one of the most gorgeous, intelligent women on this Earth a bitch? Fucking despicable. She’s always been there for you, patient. When literal video proof came out of you cheating she didn’t blow up on you, start posting about you, start attacking you. No. Because she’s too kind for that and you took advantage of it and her. Y/n came straight to you for an explanation. And she told me your explanation, it was quite literally the worst fucking lie I’ve ever heard. ‘She thought I was her boyfriend.’ and ‘I thought it was you.’ Are you fucking kidding me man? You knew she wasn’t even in the country, she was on a plane, flying to your race after cutting a photoshoot with fucking Victoria’s Secret to come support you. You ruined her. You took away her opportunities because of your own selfishness. You will never find someone like her again. You fucked up. And I hope you kick yourself when you realize what you lost. Who you lost. Y/n is a thousand times more deserving of a man. Not a boy, someone who can’t even respect his own girlfriends career.”

Pierre stood there as Lewis walked away. If he stayed there any longer, looking at his idiotic face, god he would’ve swung.

But that was all in the past.

Months ago. Seven to be exact.

And now?

Now you were making your way down the runway, in a stunning Donatella Versace dress in front of thousands. The crowd was roaring, cheering the models on as you all displayed the clothing. Your face dead straight.

That was one of the things you praised yourself on. So did the media. You were known to never ever break face when on the runway. Always professional and well handled. But it was bound to happen. Your four year streak broken.

As you made your way to the end of the runway your eye caught on to a certain braided hair man, who was hard to miss with his bright pink outfit. And god did he look amazing. As you looked at him he smiled, blowing a kiss.

Your eyes crinkled as your lips turned upwards. Blowing a kiss back.

The media ate it up.

‘Y/n Y/l/n finally broke face on the runway, the reason? Seven time world champion Lewis Hamilton! Seems the model has moved on from her breakup with Lewis’ colleague and fellow racer Pierre Gasly.’

‘Lewis Hamilton culprit of the wide smile plastered on Y/n Y/l/n’s face during the Versace launch.’

‘Lewis Hamilton and Y/n Y/l/n share their relationship to the public!’

And Lewis could not be more proud of himself when he walked into the paddock, his hand entangled with yours. He was happy to show you off, respectfully of course. But Lewis wasn’t always kind, sometimes mischievous.

So when he saw the idiot that was Pierre Gasly, jaw dropped and eyes threatening to hop out of his head at the sight in front of him while seated at the Alpha Tauri hospitality whilst having lunch with Yuki he decided to have some fun.

Taking your hand and spinning you in towards him, shortly before kissing you.

“That little fucker.” Pierre swore as he ogled you. “That’s what you get when you fuck up, badly.” Daniel snickered as he walked past, towards the two of you. “Danny!” You smiled as you engulfed him in a warm hug.

“Missed me a bit too much Y/n/n.” Daniel smirked, “Lewis you better hold on to her tight, might just sweep her off her feet.” The McLaren driver joked as your boyfriend shook his head. “Seven months too late, I’ve been swept for as long as I can remember.” You grinned as you looked up at Lewis.

“You’re in love I get it.” Daniel laughed, “I’ll see you on the panel Lewis. See you tonight, my hotel room.” He joked towards you as he walked towards the conference hall, but not before winking your way.

“Shit I have to go. If he comes anywhere near-”

“I’ll be fine Lew, I promise. I have a guard dog in the form of Charles Leclerc ready to bite.” You smiled as you kissed him again. “Hey I do not bite!” Charles frowned as him and Carlos waited for you.

“Sure thing Charles. Remember when you lost in uno to Lando-” Carlos smirked as Charles yelled, “Hey!”

Lewis kissed your head, “Why would we ever think of having kids when we have those two assholes in red?” “Rude.” Carlos stated as he and Charles crossed their arms in defense. “I’ll see you later my love.” He spoke before walking away.

“Stop rustling his hair Carlos.” You scolded, “It’s not my fault he’s so short.” Charles scoffed, “Actually I am 180 cm, 5′9 thank you.” He spoke proudly as Sainz let out a laugh, “Mate, I’m 179.” The two of you chuckled and made your way to the Ferrari hospitality as the Monegasque tried to defend his height.

As you passed Alpha Tauri your eyes wandered and saw him.

And you smiled as did he. But it didn’t mean you were over everything.

You remembered it.

All Too Well.

#formula 1 angst #formula one angst #pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly x y/n #formula one imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula one x reader #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #lando norris x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x y/n

1K notes · View notes

juliantheupsidedown · 11 months

Text

petit ange // leclerc family

this is a soft launch before the main part. maybe it will even grow into a series? I fell in love while I was doing it

it can be considered a kind of prologue. directed more to indicate the relationship between siblings leclerc

enjoy it! and be sure to let me know what you think about it

instagram edit

aurelie_leclerc

📍Monte Carlo, Monaco

Liked by lorenzotl, arthur_leclerc, and 27,934 others

aurelie_leclerc les derniers jours de la maison avant le premier grand voyage dans une nouvelle vie (the last days at home before the first big journey into a new life)

View all 45 comments

gg_giadagianni tu me manques déjà beaucoup (i miss you so much already)

aurelia_leclerc like your comments ❤️

arthur_leclerc i can't believe that a part of me will be at a distance of 10 thousand kilometres for most months of the year, disgusting! 😮‍💨

aurelie_leclerc no matter what distance separates us, you are always a part of me, and i am you

lorenzotl fier de toi et terriblement manqué (i'm proud of you and i miss you terribly)

leclerc_pascale mon petit ange ❤️

charles_leclerc come home soon

august 1, 2018

aurelie_leclerc

Liked by leclerc_pascale, charlottesiine, and 35,024 others

aurelie_leclerc I still can't believe I missed his entire first season in Formula One. je suis si fier de toi, grand frère ❤️ (I'm so very proud of you, big brother)

tagged charles_leclerc

View all 67 comments

charles_leclerc You should definitely visit Austin next year, miette ❤️

aurelie_leclerc Of course I'll be there!

leclercfans We are incredibly looking forward to seeing you in the paddock next year!

december 2, 2018

aurelie_leclerc

Liked by lorenzotl, charles_leclerc, and 49,731 others

aurelie_leclerc I'm not the one crying the night before the first class of the new semester, because my older brother won at Monza 😭❤️

View all 207 comments

lerlecrfam She's such a proud sister, I can't now I'm crying again

charleslecfans the fact that Aurelia watches all the races live despite the huge time difference. CAN I HAVE A SISTER LIKE THAT?

september 8, 2019

lorenzotl

Liked by valentinesine, leclerc_pascale, and 469,270 others

lorenzotl SHE DID IT! I can't describe in words how proud I am of her, she proved to everyone - first of all to herself that she is worthy of it! And it was worth the tears we endured, the late-night Facetime calls in which she drops out of university and returns home, the terrible and difficult exams. My heart is overflowing with joy for my princess. I love you incredibly much, Aura. Nous sommes fiers de toi! (We are proud of you)

tagged aurelie_leclerc

View all 439 comments

leclerc_pascale Papa est très fier de toi, petit ange! (Dad is very proud of you, little angel!)

aurelie_leclerc maman 😭

charlottesiine félicitations, chérie! tu es si bien (congratulations, dear! you're so good)

aurelia_leclerc like your comments ❤️

arthur_leclerc I always knew you wanted to spray everyone with champagne, sis. je t'aime et je suis très fier (i love you and i am very proud)

famleclerc congratulations on completing your studies and returning home! we've missed you

f1lclercgirl Aurelia who sprays champagne like her brothers. I'm pretty sure that all these years she was jealous of them and wanted to repeat this trick 🥂

aurelia_leclerc like your comments ❤️

charles_leclerc I'm so sorry that on one of the most important days in your life we weren't there. But I am incredibly proud of you, knowing how much you had to go through, miette. my heart is overflowing with pride for you. And I can't wait to meet you at home ❤️

justlecgirl I cried for the second time from Charles' comment. can I have such a relationship with my brothers?

june 27, 2022

aurelie_leclerc

Liked by charlottesiine, felipedrugovich, and 504,761 others

aurelie_leclerc Happy birthday to my soul, my mind, my heart, the male version of me. I was lucky to be born with this handsome man on the same day and to be his pillow sister from birth. From the first second of my life, I'm a fan of his. and I'm incredibly proud of everything he does and was able to do! you are my support, my twin brother 🫶🏻

tagged arthur_leclerc

View all 863 comments

lerlecrfam Happy birthday to the most wonderful twins!

leclercfans this collection of photos! I'M SO EMOTIONAL. happy birthday

valentinesine joyeux anniversaire, bébé. je t'aime beaucoup (happy birthday, baby. i love you very much)

charles_leclerc happy birthday, miette

f1fanmac are we really going to ignore the fact that Felipe liked the post?

october 14, 2022

arthur_leclerc

Liked by leclerc_pascale, lorenzotl, and 724,049 others

arthur_leclerc I'm so happy because she chose me as her older twin brother. happy birthday 🤍

View all 634 comments

famleclerc I feel that Arthur has deprived us of congratulations this year

mclarengim I think this is due to the fact that Aurelia is finally at home and he personally congratulated her, now there are not 10 thousand kilometers between them

leclerc_pascale mes petits anges, joyeux anniversaire (my little angels, happy birthday)

aurelie_leclerc I wish I had a choice. If I could, I would choose Charles as a twin. happy birthday, Arti

arthur_leclerc A dagger right in my heart on MY birthday

aurelie_leclerc *our birthday

felipedrugovich happy birthday 🎂

asstonmmartin omg Felipe appeared HERE TOO?!

october 14, 2022

#au #social media au #charles leclerc #arthur leclerc #lorenzo leclerc #charles leclerc instagram edit #arthur leclerc instagram edit #charles leclerc imagine #arthur leclerc imagine #felipe drugovich #felipe drugovich imagine #leclerc!reader #f1 imagine #f2 imagine

236 notes · View notes

sleepimali · 1 year

Photo

Owlbits! 🦉🐰🌺

These are the March 2023 Big Dreamer sticker and print rewards that you can grab over on my Patreon until the month is over 💛 Some lore:

Owlbits are a magical relative of regular owls who have developed an almost supernatural sense of hearing, even compared to their relatives who are known to have the best hearing among non magic beings – they can hear a pin drop as far as fifty kilometres away. The reason for this extremely keen sense of hearing is that they used to be hunted for their incredibly soft and beautiful feathers centuries ago, as well as being sought after pets due to their ability to learn to both speak and understand humanoid languages.

During the war between regular humans and magic folks, magic folks also often tried to catch them to use them as spies, not only to spy on humans, but to spy on their magic folk enemies as well. It was a cruel twist of fate that the very hearing that was supposed to protect the owlbits was what caused them to become even more sought after.

Luckily for them however, they actually make extremely poor spies. You see, they have trouble differentiating sounds from one another in settings they are not used to, which often causes them huge headaches that essentially render them useless.

Moreover, they are incredibly emotional creatures and will cry if you make them do anything bad, to the point their captors considered it annoying. Additionally, most of their spy missions failed miserably because they turned into little agents of chaos that would fly straight into the enemy’s keep and ask them to help them be free or release their captive families from their evil kidnappers. And those said enemies would not waste an opportunity like this.

After all, if the owlbits can hear your enemies from that far away, they can also hear you. You can’t keep a secret from an owlbit once they get over their headaches unless you’re highly proficient in a particular type of magic – but even then, owlbits are known to be able to hear through magic wards.

So, picture this: You’re a lord plotting the downfall of your nemesis when you suddenly hear a loud thump on your window. You got to check it out, and to your surprise you find an incredibly frazzled and panicked little owl with rabbit-like ears. It’s crying.

It yells for you to help save them in a strangely adorable voice. A bad guy kidnapped them and told them to spy on you, but they can’t do it because the surroundings give them a headache.

“Interesting”, you say. “Tell me more.”

The creature cries harder and starts to list the ill deeds and plans of their kidnapper that they learned while they were supposedly in spy training for a many months – long enough to get used to the new environment.

You grin and pet their silly little head. “That must have been very scary”, you say. “Don’t worry, you’re safe now", you say, and then proceed to ask your new friend all the details they know, including the layout of the enemy’s stronghold.

Some time later, when you’re done dealing with your pesky foes, you release the little friend. They thank you, happily chirping that you’re a good person, before promising to come over for dinner occasionally and flying off.

You may not necessarily be a good person, but they don’t need to know that. All you know is you feel in your bones that trying to use this bird for your own potentially nefarious purposes would backfire spectacularly. That, and you can’t stop smiling.

You tell your staff to prepare a feast for next Sunday’s dinner, in case you have guests.

Despite their rather unfortunate past, the owlbits are now thriving. Much like humans, they truly enjoy the beauty of nature and are often seen stargazing on clear nights or basking in the sun on a warm spring day. They also enjoy decorating their nests with flowers and pretty trinkets.

And another fun fact: After learning more about people and society, they started to trade their own feathers and information they’ve acquired in their local area – nothing harmful though, of course.

These little business birds surprisingly do incredibly well.

(As long as you don’t try to make them pay taxes. It’s not that they’re greedy, it’s that they don’t understand accounting and they will cry.)

#ditd lore #fantasy creature #fantasy art #sleepimali #watercolor painting #watercolor art #artists on tumblr #traditional artist #original lore #owls #flowers

360 notes · View notes

gimme-gimme-georgie-weasley · 11 months

Text

earlessly bloody. [g.w. x reader]

Summary: The war took away loved ones, but he was resolute.

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: BRIEF brief BRIEF mentions of suicidal thoughts.

* * *

[GIF not by me]

11:23 pm.

Nights were sleepless, cold, and threatening.

The town outside Ottery St. Catchpole had fallen right into the hands of the Dark Lord; burning it down to mere cinders– reduced to nothing but a whisper of what was once bustling with magical life.

Your nightmares had progressively gotten worse– the voices of those who had fallen were wisping around your head, crying out to you to spare them. You could feel their dead touch slowly creeping its way up your leg as if they were trying to drag you down with them to the abyss.

Muggles, Wizards, Squibs, young, and old. They all fell to the hands of Lord Voldemort.

The face of a noseless man whose withered hand beckoned you, lulling you into his grasp, “Y/N, won’t you join me?”

Slowly, he was getting closer.

And closer.

Then,

A ghoulish, hoarse voice, “Kill the spare.”

“Avada Kedavra!”

A bright bile green.

Then, you jolted awake violently. Tears were trickling down. Your breathing hastened shallowly, fighting for air as your heart pounded, threatening to jump out. Everything was a blurry mess, though. Your vision seemed as though you were looking through a shattered muggle camera lens. Everything seemed disfigured as if the world was rotating at a hundred kilometres per second.

Before you realised it, furniture was being thrashed around the room. Mirrors had shattered into smithereens. Tables were upturned. Windows were wide open. The wind howled into your ear, sending shivers down the sweaty, sticky skin of your spine; but something else was trying to call out to you. It seemed as though it were trying to pull you back into conscience. Trying to snap out of your magical nightmares.

“Y/N?” the muffled voice was getting progressively louder and louder.

“Y/N!”

Your eyes had finally focused. You were in the present, safe and sound.

There was no Dark Lord grabbing you, no voices trying to drag you down with them.

A large, warm, yet rough hand had combed through your hair, “You’re safe now, my love. It’s okay, you’re okay. Everything is okay.”

George.

Your strands fluttered back into place, though some had stuck to the sides of your sweaty temples. Your rugged breathing had slowly stabilised. George’s hand lifted your chin, beckoning your eyes to meet. A warm kiss was placed on the top of your head.

His hazel eyes were dark and fatigued with eyebags laying low underneath. They were stained by the loom of war, but still, they looked lovingly at you, searching your eyes for any sign of distress. How you’d kill to rid him of all his worries, and he the same.

Molly had rushed into the room with Arthur filing behind. They both had their wands in hand, ready to cast protegos and stupefies, but what they found was the same scene for the last Merlin knows how many nights.

“Oh, Y/N!” Molly cried out with a shuddered breath.

She rushed over to you, pulled you away, and enveloped you in her warm, motherly embrace.

You couldn’t help but fall right into it.

“When will it end?” You cried as your breathing hitched.

How you wish it could all come to an end. Every now and then, you wondered if by just pointing your wand at yourself– no. You mustn’t. Never.

Never, ever, ever.

Molly gingerly patted your back as your face deepened into the crook of her neck, staining her sweater with tears, “I know, dear, I know.”

George absentmindedly filled his father in on the details whilst Arthur restored the damaged furniture. He kept his eyes on you, pondering when to drop the bomb. He knew, however, that now was not the time, with you having just recovered from a panic attack and all. He hated seeing you like this, knowing the war had affected you so much even in your sleep. If only…

If only he could keep you safe, forever. And ever.

And ever, and ever.

And ever.

And oh, how he wished he could just take you by the hand, and with a crack, apparate the two of you where the Dark Lord was the least of your worries. A place where he could take you on the back of his broom, chasing sunsets, sunrises, and many more to come.

However, he knew, deep down, for as long as the Dark Lord was alive, your days together were numbered.

Your sunsets and sunrises were indefinite.

* * *

2:57 am.

George had cast a quick Muffliato in the living room. His eyebrows were knit together, face reddening by the second as he pulled at his scalp, ripping out a few ginger strands in the process.

“No! I’m not leaving her! You know how vulnerable she is!” He roared out, pacing the living room back and forth.

Ron, who had arrived half an hour prior, turned to Hermione with a ‘Please help’ look on his face.

Getting the memo, Hermione turned back and tried to place a reassuring hand on George’s shoulder but was quickly shoved back rudely.

With a huff, she straightened her woollen coat, “George," she started, "I understand that Y/N isn’t stable at the moment, but we have to escort Harry to Grimmauld Place! It’s not safe for him at the Dursleys anymore!” her voice laced desperately with reason. Surely he would understand?

Then, for a brief moment, he saw an image of him and Fred carrying Harry in the Gryffindor common room proudly with the golden egg in hand. Harry was one of his closest friends, if not his younger brother. He had helped fund Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, after all. He owed that debt to him. For the rest of his life.

...

But what about you?

The world, or you? You, or the world?

Nevertheless, he knew if he helped save the world, you’d be finally safe again. You were his world.

No more dreams plagued by Vile Voldie, no more nightmares; just you and him.

Safe and sound.

Resolute, he finally grabbed his wand that had been flung frustratedly to the corner of the room, and with a swoop of robes, he was in the Floo.

“Well? What are you two waiting for? We have the world to save!”

* * *

3:46 am.

A Patronus had been sent out to you, and before you knew it, you were up, dressed and Floo’d to Grimmauld Place.

The sight in front of you.

Oh, Merlin.

Please, no.

Why?

Why him?

Merlin, why?

Why? Why?

Why?

WHY?

Then, your tears became an ocean.

Terrible. It was all terrible.

If only he hadn’t. If only he were a little more selfish. Oh, Merlin’s beard, it all came crashing down on him. He was an ear lighter. There was a deep, deep, gash in the side of his face.

His clothes were covered in cold, dark, dried crimson. Sparks of black seemed to crackle where his ear would have been.

You howled out, “George!”

Arthur, Bill, Fleur, and everyone else who had helped in escorting Harry, stood around the couch that nestled the maimed George, almost like a protective barrier.

Your legs barely managed to pick themselves up as you bolted over to him, dropping your wand and satchel. Fred was right beside him, head resting on his abdomen as he grasped his cold hand. Molly’s wand illuminated a warm sort of yellow, trying to ease him of the pain that writhed in the side of his face, as if a bunch of maggots were crawling around, nestling away into the deepest depths of his cheek.

“Dark Magic.” Harry, who had been unscathed save for a few scratches, muttered.

Of all the sacrifices in the world to protect the Boy Who Lived, it just had to be him. You couldn't blame Harry, though. Without him, the Wizarding world would've been burned to ashes by now.

You could barely make out your words in between ugly, mournful sobs, “Oh, my love…”

Hands wrapped gently around his head, you stared at him wondering where you went wrong. What did you do in your past life to deserve such karma? It should’ve been you instead who took that stupid sectumsempra. It should’ve been you, but you had only found out about George joining to escort Harry moments ago after being woken up by a brilliant stag.

Then, his eyes slowly fluttered open. They were drained of life, hazel and oh so dismally dull. But still, they widened like glass marbles, glistening with tears and red-rimmed from fatigue.

“Y/N? Why’re you–?”

You placed a hand over his mouth, relief lacing your voice as you could only speak a few broken sentences before you were a mess again, “Shh… Rest, my little spark.”

Then, his chapped, cold lips kissed your palm and you were back in fifth year again.

Waltzing 'round the empty corridors to a slow Muggle tune with his arms around your waist, kissing the palm of the hand that he had lifted up. Then, he'd lift you up, giggling like little children.

What a time to be alive, you reminisced, but was brought back to the present by his silky sweet voice.

“It’s alright, love. I feel saint-like– holey.” You snorted, and so did Fred, whose head had shot up the moment he knew his brother was back, “Holey?”

Fred added, “Out of all the ear-related jokes in this world and you choose ‘holey’?”

The room erupted into raucous, heart-warming laughter; and for a moment– there was no Dark Lord hot on Harry’s trail, or a pack of Death Eaters wreaking havoc. It was just friends and family.

And George, albeit earless and bloody.

* * *

a/n: did anyone else get the wee hamilton reference?

#george weasley #george wealsey x reader #george wealsey imagine #george weasley oneshot #george weasley/reader #george weasley angst #wizarding war #holey #harry potter #harry potter oneshot

146 notes · View notes

vintage-marina · 2 years

Text

Burned to the unrecognizable

Ñuha = mine/my

sỹz toaba = good boy

riñnykeā = child

Female Targaryen reader!

Ship is not specified, is only a fic with your dragon

iksan vaoreznuni = I'm sorry

Draegan = name of your dragon

summary: You're dragon is wounded by some of the Dragonkeepers

Tw: beast cruality, death

You could feel the fear and pain from your dragon in your bones, your hair blew in the wind and with all your strength you ran towards the Dragon Pit, your guards hot on your heels.

You didn't know what the cause was, but in that moment you dropped everything you were doing and ordered the guards to come along.

You couldn't see a thing, the morning fell with a heavy mist that covered Kings Landing. Your foot slipped away, but just in time you could rebalance yourself.

A deep agony grazed your abdomen, you couldn't help but call his name while tears slipped from your eyes.

Time slowed by each minute down, you almost reached the Pit, just a few steps more. The roaring cry of Draegan could be heard from kilometres away, you and the guards quickened your steps.

You almost flew on the stairs, your brows furrowed with concern and fury. You heard him more clearly now, his broken cries clenched your heart, but the realisation of him being hurted shattered your heart.

Hands balled up, you spotted your dark red dragon shuffling in big metal entrapments.

What the fuck happened in the week that you were gone for duties?

Smoke appeared underneath the belly of your boy and horror snuck on your face when you realised the foul stence. "Draegan!" you screamed so loud as you can. "Line everyone up who dared to hurt my child."

The Dragonkeepers heard your voice and with shock they stopped what they were doing, in the hope you didn't notice. But alas, you saw, felt and heard everything.

Draegan looked up, a soft huff escaped his jaw and he lowered his body and head. With swift steps you walked towards him, your lips were quavering. Out of the side of your eye you saw your guards one by one dragging the Dragonkeepers on the ground.

Good, a small smile graced your lips.

But when you focused on him again, you couldn't help but let slip more tears on your cheeks.

"Ñuha riñnykeã," you began softly. You rested your hand on the snout of his nose. "Iksan vaoreznuni, you didn't deserve to be treated like that." He leaned with his head against your hand, you gave on top of his skin a kiss and nuzzled your head against his scales.

Calm settled between the both of you.

One of your guards scraped his throat and after a few seconds you lifted your head, acknowledging that he may speak. "We already informed the maesters, they are on their way."

"Thank you."

"What will we do with them, Your Royal Highness?"

"Nothing, yet. Make them sweat a bit, I will be there in a minute."

Slowly you pulled away from your dragon, making him huff. "Wait a minute my boy. I need to see your injuries." you walked around him. "And someone please uncage him!" Your voice boomed through the large chamber.

In no time Draegan was freed, but still he wouldn't lower his belly. Smoke still sizzled underneath him and large chunks of skin and scales were burned off, leaving a bloody and burned surface.

You tried to pet the unharmed side of him, but your dragon gave a fair warning that quickly made you retreat. When you tried to see more of his injuries he simply pushed you away.

The Dragonkeepers would suffer.

"I have seen enough," voice laced with calmed rage. You walked calmly to your guards, the maesters were in the distance. At this point they were the only one who you could trust Draegan with. You didn't know if they even knew how to heal a dragon, but under watchfull eyes they should. Your hands were clasped behind your back, you stood next to some of your guards when they announced your name.

"Y/N Targaryen, first of her name. Princess of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men."

" I, Y/N Targayren saw for the first time in my life my child in pain by the hands of the people who swored to protect him." you watched the six Dragonkeepers with fury. "My child who was hurten by his very own people and indirectly they have been hurting me. Not only you have been hurting me and my child, you showed your true colours towardsthe Crown. Therefore I declare the highest from of treason.¨

Some of them gasped in shock, but you continued. "You will be punished in the same way you did to Draegan." Stopping for a moment you whispered to the guards next to you. "Take them in a few minutes to the cellars."

You watched the six Dragonkeepers and you drew your breath, "burned to the unrecognizable."

Therefore your speech was done, their feet were dragging on the floor and your guards slept them away.

You drew your attention to Draegan again, the maesters already treating his wounds. A genuine smile maked his way on your face. You petted his snout again while they were helping him, "Ñuha sỹz toaba." you whispered towards the dragon.

Comments are really appreciated!

715 notes · View notes

meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 22 days

Text

Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 28

>:D

mastapost

The Panama Canal was one of the greatest feats of 20th Century engineering. Originally, ships that wished to cross from the Atlantic Ocean to the Pacific Ocean, or vice versa, were forced to make the long and arduous journey around South America, a trip that would take 20,000 kilometres, which would also mean our story would be much, much longer (or at least require more time skips).

It was not as simple as digging a ditch. Panama is a beautiful, but very rugged country, with hilly and mountainous terrain that halted the French in their tracks. That, and the copious mosquitoes. Landslides and rain beat back attempts to dig the canal in the 19th Century. But the dream did not end.

How did the Americans do it? All they needed was a bit of lateral thinking. Instead of digging the entire canal and attempting to conquer the mountains and hills, engineers built a dam to flood an artificial lake, leaving a 15km stretch of unflooded land. This is where they built the remaining canal. In order to raise ships into the canal’s lever, they build a system of locks. Each lock would funnel water into the one behind it, raising the ship until the water level was even on both sides, and so on.

The Canal was vital in the war effort in World War 2, and it was a target of the Japanese I-400 programme, until Okinawa fell, and it was decided that destroying the locks would have had no effect on the war.

This is where the story takes Danny and Damian.

“Land ho!” Danny cried out at the first patch of land. At last, after however many thousands of miles travelling (Danny had lost count) they were here.

“We are not sailors.” Damian grumbled. Maybe he was getting excited too. Danny could feel the way the kid’s fin’s thumped on Danny’s scales, like a puppy wagging its tail.

“Right, we’re just borrowing one of man kind’s most impressive engineering accomplishments for sailing.”

Damian huffed. “As sea creatures infamous for attacking sailors. Be glad we are not in the olden days, or our presence would have caused national, or international panic.”

Danny felt the urge to riff on the kid’s comment, but he remembered the stinging silence from yesterday. He decided not to push boundaries this early back into their kind-of make-up. “As it is I’m sure the authorities don’t mind that much. Probably don’t even believe in sirens. I think they’d just be angry that we didn’t pay the fee.”

With the canal in sight, Danny zoomed into the bay in minutes. The bay narrowed into a waterway leading inland underneath a huge bridge. Danny gasped at the size and scale of the thing. The boys continued up the bay. They dodged ship propellers, dove underneath hulking hulls. The water tinged with the smell of barnacles and metal. Nobody was out on the shoreline looking for sirens, which was a big plus, but Danny still kept a tight handle on his invisibility whenever they got close to the surface.

Soon, they reached the first lock.

“We gonna jump over or what?”

Damian trilled. “That would be an easy way to get spotted.”

“I can make us invisible, duh.”

“They would notice the splashes. We have not seen the GiW in some time, but I would prefer not to give them any ideas. We do not know who could be watching.”

With that, Danny found himself icing his body to the hull of some random cargo freighter. The ship approached the locks. They waited for painstaking minutes, watching the water level rise inch by inch. Once it reached the midway point up the next lock, the gates opened. Then the ship slowly inched forward. Then the water level inched upward again.

“This is gonna take for-freaking-ever.”

“Swimming around South America would have taken forever.”

“Uuggghhh.”

It would’ve been nice if there were some pretty landscapes to stare at for the next however many hours this would take. Sadly, their surroundings were all smooth concrete underwater, void of life and energy. Above water, it was the same, save for some small patches of grass and dirt lined the edges of the locks. Workers and vehicles milled about with their tasks on barren grey roads. The shipyard buzzed like persistent mosquitoes. Whirring machinery, shouted orders and gasping engines filled the air. He even felt a literal mosquito land on his nose when he surfaced to check. He was invisible! What the fuck!

So Danny dipped back underwater, hopefully drowning the little blood sucker. He didn’t want to know what a mosquito could do with his blood.

“What is the situation?” Damian asked.

“Boring. And normal, I guess. The stench is killing me though. God damn.”

Damian’s ear fins quirked. “Do sirens worship Christ?”.

“Uhh, not sure. I’m totally atheist though. Must be why the Fentons call me godless sometimes.”

The next lock finally finished opening. The ship continued inching painfully forward. The hum of its engine echoed back and forth in the ditch.

“Gahhh! Please. Move. Faster!” He banged the hull.

“Please stop complaining. You are contributing to the noise.”

Danny went to make another complaint, only for Damian to nip him in the ear.

“Yowch! What was that for!”

Damian went for the other ear.

That was when Danny sniffed a familiar scent. He slapped his hand over Damian’s mouth. “Wait. Something’s up.”

Damian froze. “What?”

The boys scanned the lock. They were alone in there, without a doubt. Danny’s lateral line only sensed Damian with him, and the scent of another sea creature would have been a beacon in the stale water.

Danny broke off from the ship. He melted his ice, just to be safe. The boy carried Damian above the surface invisibly.

“You see anything?”

“Just employees. And equipment.”

“Let’s look behind us.”

The water level had just about filled the up to the top of the gate behind them. There was little risk of being left behind by the next, seeing as Danny’s swimming speed would let them catch up with the boat in seconds. It took little effort for the boy to scale up the walls and peek overhead.

He was treated to a vast overhead view of the waterway. Danny hummed. All he could see was more machines dotting the side of the canal underneath tree cover, and beyond, the vast blue sea.

Damian squeezed his arm like a vice. “We have potential trouble.”

The older boy scrambled. “What? Where?”

“Down there.” Damian pushed the back of his head down.

Danny’s heartrate spiked. Just approaching the lock system was a familiar white boat. Nerves buzzed underneath his skin, like insects crawling into his scales. “I don’t understand. They have no reason to think we’d be here.”

“Perhaps they are just passing by. It could be a coincidence. Will they detect us?”

“Probably not. Radars to detect are expensive as hell, and only the Fentons know how to make them. They’d have to use sonar, and that can only happen if they’re in the same water as us.”

The boys dipped back into the water. Damian clenched his white shoulder. “We will be past these locks by the time they open for that boat.”

Danny nodded quickly. “Yeah. We’ll be fine.”

They returned to waiting.

His fins flipped back and forth in place. Back and forth. He counted the inches. He cheered every new inch the water level took. Why did it take so long just to move some freaking water?! His fins sped up, becoming a blur. They stirred up eddy currents and swirls. At some point he even felt eddies from Damian’s fins too.

Danny took a deep breath. Fear was the mind killer, or whatever they said. Even if his back scales felt like knives were raking over them, the rational part of his mind tried to insist it was all fine. They were probably just moving some assets to the Atlantic. A million and one different ships used this passage.

But it wasn’t right. His nose was good in this form, but not that good. That boat was over fifty meters away in a completely different body of water.

“Damian. There’s more to this. There’s gotta be.”

“Your nerves are contagious. Keep a handle on them.” Damian grumbled.

“I’m serious. I couldn’t have smelled that boat. It’s like a football field away on a different lock. It’s impossible.”

The swirls of water from the small siren’s fins ceased. Danny couldn’t see him, but he felt the weight distribution change a little, like Damian had just lifted his head. “This warrants further investigation.”

The boys resurfaced again. Danny climbed his way up the walls of the lock on the side. They peered over the edge, keeping their noses open. “I don’t see anything.”

Maybe he was overthinking it from stress…

Just then, Damian tugged his sail. “The other side!” He hissed.

Danny turned around. At the edge of the shipyard, his vision clipped onto two distinct white suits talking to some important look guy in a black suit and hard hat. The black suit guy pulled out a walkie talkie. Suddenly, Danny realised the water level had been still for some time.

His voice lowered to a whisper. “Damian, I don’t think they’re just passing by.”

“It cannot be. What reason would they have to suspect we would be here?”

“I don’t know.” Danny clenched his fists around the concrete wall they had been sticking to. “But this is getting bad.”

More men appeared on both sides now, carrying harpoons, hydroplasm guns, and water testing equipment. Quiet adrenaline fired into his fins. A warbling growl rumbled in his throat.

“What if we can swim ahead? You have the speed to outrun them.” Damian’s voice trembled unevenly. His hands shook.

“Damian, the water’s stopped raising. They’ve locked down the lock. If I jump, they’ll be on me in a second.”

“We cannot sit here and wait for them.”

“I know.”

Danny wasn’t doing much better. If he were in human form, his hands would be soaked in sweat by now. His head whirled. The agents seemed to be in every direction. The water still wasn’t moving. The gate was still shut tight. Danny could probably squeeze his body through some kind of gap, but Damian? He didn’t want to grind the kid’s bones into pulp.

“What if we fight them?”

“You don’t have any of your weapons, and I’ve barely had anything to eat.” No food meant no healing, and little energy to toss ice beams willy-nilly.

“Do we have no other option?”

He cursed the stupid freaking GiW. At least his parents had their moments. Nothing good ever happened when the goons in wetsuits showed up. The last time he and Damian saw them was in freaking Amity Bay! His head spun trying to figure out what had given them away. What could get them out of this situation?

There was one other option. The option Danny had desperately hoped would never have to be considered. But it wasn’t just Danny’s safety now. At least his parents had the decency not to dissect Damian (at least during their stay on the SAV). The GiW would be much less merciful.

Danny’s heart rate spiked. Do or die, then. Sink or swim. He gathered up every ounce of courage that still survived his parents.

“We do.”

“Do it now.”

Danny squared up his shoulders, acutely aware of how the scales on his arms touched those on his armpits. How the water touched his back with no clothes in the way. “Do you trust me?”

Damian hesitated. He could smell the kid’s reservation in the water. He counted the steps the GiW agents took, as if in slow motion. “I have no other person to rely on.”

“We won’t be able to cross Panama. We’ll have to go back the direction we came.” Guilt jumped into the party of stressors stomping on his nervous system.

Damian warbled, like a wounded animal. “I know.”

They were so fucking close. They’d just barely gotten into Panama, and it’s all been ruined and he didn’t even know why.

“Hang on to me. And whatever you do, be quiet.”

Danny placed one arm on the top surface of the lock. He used it to pull himself up and over the edge, pushing with his second arm. Slowly he pulled his entire body over the edge of the wall. Danny began wiping drops of water off his body. He could do it while still being completely wet, but it hurt like a bitch and took ages.

Slowly, invisibly, his scales receded into skin. His tail split open. Its bones reshaped into legs. His tailfin hardened into feet. Danny stood up, still clutching Damian to his chest. The boy gasped at the sudden increase in elevation. And despite being invisible, he could practically feel the boy’s judgement baring down on him.

The GiW agents were closing in.

Danny stuck to the dirt and grass. The asphalt would have fried his bare feet off. Not a pleasant sensation. A pair of agents approached the canal, guns in hand. Danny crept along the side, tiptoeing carefully so as to avoid making a sound and drawing attention.

As Danny slipped away, the pair of agents came up to where he’d just been standing. Thank god.

There was an issue though. The locks were obviously built uphill. That meant going along the canal would bring him through the treacherously steep terrain. Not a good look for a scrawny boy with no shoes who needed to be silent. One slip and the entire force would come down upon him.

Damian squeezed his hand. There had to be a way somehow.

Danny swallowed a thick lump. He formed a layer of ice. Despite it only being a few millimetres, it felt clunky and horrible to walk in, and would definitely make a sound, but it would have to do.

Just carefully. One foot over the other. Let the foot come down gently, like a bee’s landing. Danny walked out into the asphalt, just within earshot of the agents at the edge of the canal.

“Got anything?” The one crouching over it said. He was so tempted to shoot an ice beam and knock him into the water.

“Not yet. It could be hiding from the sensor. We’ll give it another five minutes.”

“It better be close. Sun’s killing me out here.”

One of the nice things about sirens is that they were quite sensitive to heat. Thanks to some nifty evolution, it meant that Danny’s invisibility extended into the infrared and ultraviolet range. That was the only reason he wasn’t getting sunburned out the wazoo, and the only reason Damian hadn’t dried out yet. The air was still very, very warm, but he didn’t need to worry about the radiation from the sun itself.

Danny managed to get out of earshot of those agents. His concentration was split between keeping this ice on his feet solid, and on keeping Damian from dying of heatstroke. The boy remained silent, as requested. Danny’s eyes snapped from one side of his vision to the other, hyper aware of his space, and of the dozen or so agents scattered around the perimeter.

Let it be known that he was no ninja. Probably the only saving grace he had was the fact that they were expecting an invisible fish in the water, and not a kid walking on land. One of the agents barked an order. The agents split into groups of two. The pairs scattered, probably making for the other parts of the canal. That meant two of them were coming his way. Danny’s breath hitched. Sweat dripped down his brow. He iced it over.

Damian’s fins hung low too. Their sharp tips brushed against his belly. He couldn’t stay out here long. He needed water and quick. The boy chirped quietly underneath Danny’s hand.

He ambled to the right of the matching pair. Best to get out of their way. For a bunch of guys in fancy suits, they walked quickly. But Danny couldn’t. His makeshift shoes would be too loud.

He was barely able to get out of their way, barely able to avoid brushing shoulders with the men who wanted him a lab rat. Relief cooled his system like his ice.

Then one of them stopped.

“Wait, G.” He turned around. Turned toward Danny. Hairs stood on end. Knees rattled. “Agent H!”

Danny was seconds away from bolting. Only Damian’s tight grip was able to ground him from doing something stupid.

The man pulled a bottle of sunscreen from his suit. “Agent H! You forgot your mandated sunblock!”

With the GiW agent breaking into a light jog, Danny had seconds to react. He threw his body to the side just as the agent rushed through. The motion pushed his upper body just an inch too far off base. Danny’s eyes widened. He flung his arms wildly, but he could not stop the descent.

He shifted gears. The boy twisted his body so it faced the ground. Damian clung tighter, his claws digging into Danny’s chest. He shoved his hands forward. No time to ice them over. Danny planted his fingers on the ground. Sunbaked pebbles seared his fingers. His tongue bled as he bit down the urge to cry out.

His scream was only muffled into a groan. The footsteps of the agent stopped.

“What?” The man whispered.

Danny became a statue. The man’s gaze crawled over his back like an ant colony. Danny’s pulse stomped around in his ears. In his burning fingers. Each millisecond a war between the urge to cry out, the emergency signals of heat and pain, and the adrenaline that he could not let out. Just hunched over, still.

“Agent F! I’m turning into sun-dried tomatoes here!”

At last, at long last, the aforementioned Agent F took off. “Sorry! Just got distracted by some mosquito buzzing.”

Fuck. That was close. Too close.

Blink. Blink. Blink. Blink.

Panama Canal.

What was that menace doing, heading for Panama Canal?

Maddie Fenton’s phone lay off to the side of the console. The new stream chattered. She paused from her work (really just staring at the radar) to refresh the news sites in English. Then whatever Spanish sites, translated by her browser. Nothing. A week ago she would have gone in guns blazing, ready to take out the pelagic punks and stop them from carrying out their dastardly plot.

With their engines busted, that plan wasn’t looking very good. After six hours of repairs, she and Jack had only managed to achieve a fraction of their original top speed. Enough to get them to Panama eventually, but not any time soon. They still had more repairs scheduled. It was only due to Jazz’s intervention that they sat down and took a break.

She wanted to work. She wanted to throw herself into metal and nuts and bolts. Anything to keep her mind from that face.

For years she had made it her mission to bring the sirens to justice for all they had done to her family and others. The few times she got up close to a siren they were vicious, snarling predators. She expected the same stubborn defiance from Phantom.

His resistance was token, at best. She could tell how scared he was even as he put up a tough face. Then he broke down, sobbing and incoherent. It was fake. It was all an act. It had to be. Phantom was stalling for time. He was manipulating her from the start. It had to be. It had to be.

How could it be?

She pulled off her gloves. She stared at the quivering hands, the hands that were a moment away from pulling the trigger. She was so sure she would have done it. He had to have known. He was an awful liar. Tried to misdirect and feign ignorance, and gave himself away every time. Who did he think he was fooling? And yet she could not steady her hands.

Maybe that was his con all along. Not even try to be convincing. Just babble whatever nonsense to lead them along like a string of helpless ducklings until help arrived.

Phantom had never worked with anyone else before. Not from his own kind, at least.

Maddie sipped a cold cup of tea. Maybe he had been migrating, and these were his original pod? If he were with his original pod, then there would be a lot more noise in Panama. The canals were narrow. Phantom was on the smaller side, but even two adults would have been noticed, right?

Did they even exist at all?! She had rebooted and reconfigured the radar, spending hours only for it to fail to detect any of Phantom’s pod. It was like they showed up for one moment, then vanished into thin water the next.

It wasn’t enough. The scientist in her demanded more evidence. Her hypotheses felt flimsy even to her, like there was something that was glaringly missing.

It all went back to that expression. That haunted anguish. Those streaming tears. The face that tore her vision away and replaced it with years of comfort. Years of holding Danny close. To that day when Danny showed up back home six months ago, the day a miracle came to her.

His face was the same back then. Maddie had rushed to hug the son she’d thought she’d lost. However, her baby boy flinched back, like she was going to strike him.

It broke her heart then.

“Mom?” Her daughter leaned into the door way.

“Jazz, I told you to take it easy.”

Jazz came inside, and sat down on the chair beside her. “I am taking it easy. Just getting some fresh air.”

She leaned to the side, her eyes discerning like they’d always been.

“Mom, are you ok?”

Dammit. Was it that obvious? Maddie shook her head. “You know me too well, Jazz.”

She pulled her daughter in. She held her and let herself be grateful that at least she was still here. That there was still hope, somehow. But that hope now clouded over with uncertainty.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?”

It shouldn’t be that way. Maddie was the mother here. It was her who was supposed to be comforting Jazz, but it was the other way around again.

“I just don’t know. Jazz. I thought I knew everything I needed to get the job done, but…”

But now she didn’t. Jazz nodded silently, letting her continue.

Maddie held her tighter. Her voice lowered to a whisper. “Sweetie, I’m not sure anymore. Jazz, I can’t get it of my head. The way he looked at us. The way he didn’t. And I’ve been thinking about it for hours and I can’t make heads or tails on it. None of my theories can make up any kind of framework that could explain what happened.”

“Maybe it’s time to find a new framework?”

Maddie pulled back in puzzlement. “What do you mean?”

“Find new evidence. If the current evidence contradicts established theories, then hunt for new evidence that could explain the discrepancies. And then establish a new more comprehensive theory.”

That… made a lot of sense. It was at times like these she marvelled at the brilliance of her daughter. But there was just one issue.

“But your father and I still haven’t finished repairs yet.”

“That’s ok, Mads!”

Her husband and Bruce leaned in to the bridge as well. Bruce Wayne’s head still sported a large bandage around it, but the man was looking much better for wear.

Jack continued. “It was obvious we weren’t as prepared as we could be. Otherwise the fishie little fiend wouldn’t have given us the slip. With the SAV busted, I say we take Jazzie’s advice and go on recon mode.”

Determination shined from Bruce’s squared shoulders. “Jack’s right. We can take the jet skis and catch up to Phantom easily. Then we can observe him ourselves or deploy a drone or two.”

That was surprisingly sensible. They needed more information. Then they could cross out the possibilities and the what ifs, and narrow down the truth.

More than anything, Maddie needed the truth.

Damian was beginning to get uncomfortable. The mucus coating his scales meant that they remained moist. However, he still lost water due to respiration. Not to mention the sweltering heat. Although he did not suffer the burning sunlight due to Danny’s invisibility, the humid air also contributed to his discomfort. As a fish out of water, Damian could tell he could not last much longer.

But his physical discomfort could only distract from the real questions in his mind for so long. Why did Danny hide this ability from him for so long? What was he so scared of? In hindsight it was logical that a siren with the ability to turn humans into their species could also turn themselves into humans. Damian felt the soft, human skin of Danny’s chest against his own scales. His cheeks just so happened to be laying where the teenager’s gills used to be. Now they were smooth. Damian numbly counted Danny’s ribs, which jutted out.

Why did he expect Damian to trust him when he still continued to hide things from him?

Danny walked into a clearing. He carried Damian far past the shipping yard that they had crawled out of, and into a building. It appeared to be some kind of administrative building. Damian nudged him with his chin. Where was he taking them? He walked through the glass sliding doors behind a member of staff. Cool air conditioning chilled Damian’s scales. Danny bee lined for the bathroom, finding it empty. He iced the door shut.

Damian found himself placed into the (thankfully clean) sink. Cool running water washed over his body, bringing much needed relief. Damian purred quietly underneath the cool tap. For a moment, the room contained only the sound of running water, and Danny’s heavy breathing.

Danny’s invisibility deactivated. Damian watched pallid skin appear out of thin air. Stickly legs shivering. The newly human teenager leaned against the war, panting. His chest had no gills, as he’d expected, and his skin was completely opaque. Black hair appeared where there was white. Eerie aquamarine was replaced with dull blue. A familiar face rendered bare of scales or fins was revealed. A very, very familiar face.

And instantly, everything clicked into place for Damian.

#dpxdc #danny fenton #damian wayne #dcxdp #merman #merboy #mermaid au #angst #bruce wayne #good parents jack and maddie fenton #good sibling jazz fenton #good friend damian wayne #mer!danny fenton #mer!damian wayne #internal reveal

31 notes · View notes