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nayziiz · 25 days

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Stay | LN4

Summary: A new romantic prospect puts things into perspective in the best and worst ways possible.

Pairing: Lando Norris x OC (Cara)

Warnings: None

Masterlist

CHAPTER 1

Lando, ever the social orchestrator, found himself entangled in a serendipitous twist of fate when he first met Cara. It was amidst the blossoming romance of Max and Pietra that their paths intersected. Cara, a pivotal figure in Pietra's life, seamlessly integrated into their circle, her warmth and vivacity leaving an indelible mark on Lando's heart.

From the moment they met, Lando felt an instant connection with Cara. Her infectious laughter and genuine kindness captivated him, drawing him in with an irresistible pull. As their friendship blossomed, Lando found himself gravitating towards her, cherishing her presence in his life more with each passing day.

Amidst the whirlwind of adventures and travels that defined Lando's lifestyle, Cara became a constant, a beacon of familiarity and comfort in a world of fleeting moments. Whenever Max and Pietra planned their escapades to Monaco, Lando made it a point to extend the invitation to Cara, ensuring she was always a welcomed addition to their gatherings.

So when the allure of Monaco beckoned once again during the summer break vacation, Lando found himself yearning for a respite from the relentless pace of his jet-setting lifestyle. Despite his love for travel and adventure, the weariness of constant flights and bustling airports weighed heavily on him. Opting for a tranquil retreat at home in Monaco seemed like a balm for his restless soul, and it was only natural for him to extend the invitation to his friends, including Cara.

As the summer breeze swept through the elegant streets of Monaco, whispering secrets of love and adventure, there was a new chapter unfolding in Lando's life, one tinged with controversy and uncertainty.

In a surprising turn of events, Lando found himself entangled in the enigmatic allure of Maya, a woman whose reputation preceded her. Known for her tumultuous dating history and a penchant for playing fast and loose with the hearts of her partners, Maya was a figure of intrigue and apprehension among Lando's friends.

While Lando's heart may have been captivated by Maya's charm and charisma, his friends couldn't help but feel a twinge of concern. They had heard the whispers, the cautionary tales of broken hearts and shattered trust that seemed to follow in Maya's wake. They worried for Lando, fearing that he might be stepping into a tempest of emotional turmoil and uncertainty.

Despite their reservations, Lando remained steadfast in his affection for Maya, seemingly undeterred by the warnings and red flags that others saw so clearly. His friends watched with bated breath as their carefree companion ventured into uncharted waters, hoping against hope that he wouldn't become another casualty in Maya's tumultuous journey.

Yet, amidst the uncertainty and apprehension, there lingered a glimmer of hope. Perhaps, in the boundless depths of Maya's complexities, Lando saw something worth fighting for, a chance to unravel the mysteries of her soul and discover a love that transcended the confines of judgement and expectation.

The sun danced lazily across the azure expanse of the Mediterranean as Lando, Max, Pietra, and Cara lounged on the sun-drenched terrace, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the salty tang of the sea air. It was a picture-perfect afternoon in Monaco, yet beneath the veneer of tranquillity, tension simmered beneath the surface.

Lando couldn't shake the lingering doubts that clouded his mind, the whispered warnings of his fans and the quiet concern of his friends echoing in the recesses of his thoughts. Sensing the weight of uncertainty pressing down upon him, he finally broached the topic that had been lingering like a shadow between them.

“So, what do you guys really think about Maya?” Lando's voice was tentative, the words hanging in the air like a fragile promise. “Why is this such a big deal?”

Lando's brow furrowed in confusion, his gaze shifting to meet Max's unflinching stare.

“Because no one likes her,” Max's words were blunt, his tone devoid of apology.

“Max, that's a bit harsh,” Pietra, ever the voice of reason, interjected gently. But Lando, his patience wearing thin, couldn't help but push back.

“No, let him speak his mind, he clearly doesn't like her either,” Lando insisted.

Silence descended upon the terrace, broken only by the rhythmic lapping of waves against the harbour wall.

“They don't have to. She's built up a reputation that she can jump from one guy to the next. It seems like she gets bored quickly,” Pietra added, her voice tinged with a hint of concern.

Lando's brows furrowed at Pietra's observation, a flicker of defensiveness sparking within him. He opened his mouth to protest, but before he could utter a word, Max's voice cut through the tension like a knife.

“Mate, you asked for our opinion on the situation, so don't get mad when we're honest,” Max's tone was firm, his frustration palpable.

Lando's jaw clenched as he grappled with Max's admonition, his pride warring with the unsettling truth of his friends' words. In that moment, the terrace felt suffocating, the weight of their unspoken fears pressing down upon them like a heavy shroud. Realising the futility of the escalating tension, Cara, ever the voice of reason, intervened with a calm authority.

“Alright. Perhaps we should table this discussion for a different time. Max, you two have plans for the afternoon,” she asserted, her tone gentle yet unwavering.

The tension in the air dissipated as Cara's words hung between them, a silent agreement to set aside their differences and move forward. With a reluctant nod, Lando acquiesced, his gaze lingering on Maya's nameless face in the recesses of his mind.

As Max and Pietra begrudgingly rose from their seats, a sense of unease lingered beneath the surface, a silent reminder of the fragile balance between love and loyalty, trust and uncertainty.

“Are you sure you don't want to come with us?” Pietra offered, her voice laced with genuine concern.

Pietra's gesture of extending an invitation to Cara shimmered with warmth, a gentle offering amidst the lingering tension that hung in the air. Cara offered a soft smile in response, her gaze meeting Pietra's with a quiet gratitude.

“Yeah, you two go. I'm just going to head down to the pool and do some reading,” she assured her friend, her tone gentle yet resolute.

As Pietra and Max exchanged a knowing glance, a silent understanding passed between them. With a nod of acknowledgment, they bid Cara and Lando farewell, their footsteps echoing in the tranquil courtyard as they made their way towards the awaiting adventure that beckoned beyond the sun-kissed horizon.

Left alone amidst the serenity of Monaco's lavish surroundings, Cara breathed a quiet sigh of relief, her heart heavy with the weight of unspoken worries. Cara, ever the picture of effortless grace, retreated into the spare bedroom to prepare for her afternoon by the pool. With practised ease, she shed the confines of her clothing, slipping into the comfort of her one-piece bathing suit before draping a slip dress over her slender frame. Gathering her essentials—a well-loved novel, a plush towel, and a pair of sleek sunglasses—she tucked them neatly into her bag, her anticipation mounting with each passing moment.

As she emerged from the bedroom, ready to embark on her solitary retreat, she found herself met with a pleasant surprise. Lando, adorned in a pair of swim trunks and a loose-fitted shirt, stood before her, a warm smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“Mind if I join you?” Lando's voice broke the tranquil silence, his eyes glinting with a hint of uncertainty as he addressed Cara. Cara met his gaze with a soft smile, her expression warm and welcoming.

“Sure,” she agreed, her voice carrying a sense of genuine camaraderie as she motioned for him to walk alongside her.

The two of them traversed the familiar hallway, their footsteps echoing in the hushed stillness of the apartment building, until they reached the inviting oasis of the pool area. Deck chairs adorned with plush cushions awaited them, their comfort beckoning amidst the sweltering heat of the afternoon sun.

As they settled into the shade cast by the giant umbrellas, Lando's gaze lingered on Cara, his thoughts swirling with a multitude of unspoken questions. With a steadying breath, he broached the subject that had been weighing heavily on his mind.

“You've always been honest with me,” Lando began, his voice tinged with vulnerability as he sought her counsel. “What's your opinion on Maya?”

“I've only met her in passing twice before, so I can't give you an opinion without knowing her better,” she began, her voice measured and earnest.

As Cara settled comfortably into her deck chair, her words carried a weight of thoughtful consideration, her gaze shielded behind the tinted lenses of her sunglasses.

“But, like Pietra said, she has a reputation, so it's difficult not to look at her with this idea of her, you know,” Cara continued, her tone tinged with a hint of empathy. “Maybe her intentions are pure, but I just don't think you can trust that until she can prove it.”

Her words hung in the air, a poignant reminder of the delicate balance between trust and scepticism, hope and apprehension. As Lando absorbed Cara's insightful words, he mirrored her actions, settling into the deck chair beside hers with a sense of quiet contemplation. With a fluid motion, he peeled off his shirt, the warmth of the sun kissing his skin as he surveyed their surroundings.

Spying his bag nearby, Lando rummaged through its contents until he unearthed his sunscreen, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“Do you have sunscreen at all?” he inquired, his voice laced with a note of curiosity as he turned to Cara.

Cara met his gaze with a nod of affirmation, her own sunscreen nestled safely within her bag. With a graceful motion, she retrieved the bottle, offering it to Lando with a silent understanding. As he accepted the sunscreen with a grateful nod, Lando's thoughts drifted to the task at hand.

“You mind doing my back?” he ventured, his words tinged with a hint of self-consciousness. “Then I can do yours?”

Cara's response was a soft chuckle, her eyes crinkling with amusement behind her sunglasses.

“Of course,” she replied, her tone warm and reassuring as she settled into the role of caretaker.

Cara squirted the sunscreen into the palm of her hands and with a sense of purpose infused in her movements, her touch gentle yet deliberate, prepared to tend to Lando's sun-kissed skin. Lando shifted to sit in front of her, his back exposed to the warmth of the afternoon sun.

Cara's fingers danced across his smooth, tanned skin, the cool sensation of the sunscreen leaving a trail of comfort in its wake. With meticulous care, she worked the lotion into every crevice and curve, ensuring that not a single spot was left exposed to the relentless gaze of the Mediterranean sun.

Once satisfied with her handiwork, Cara passed the bottle of sunscreen to Lando, a silent invitation for him to return the favour. With a grateful nod, he accepted the bottle, his fingers deftly navigating the contours of Cara's shoulders and the sliver of exposed waist peeking out from her one-piece bathing suit. As he massaged the sunscreen into her skin, a sense of intimacy blossomed between them, a silent acknowledgment of the trust and vulnerability they had shared since the day they met.

“Can't people just be happy for me for once?” Lando's words escaped him in a quiet murmur, the frustration evident in his tone as he grappled with the weight of his emotions. Cara, ever attuned to his inner turmoil, turned to him with a gentle expression, her eyes reflecting a mixture of empathy and understanding.

“Do you like her?” she asked, her voice soft yet probing. Lando's gaze flickered, his hesitation fleeting as he met Cara's unwavering stare as she glanced over her shoulder at him.

“Yeah, I do,” he admitted, his voice carrying a note of quiet resolve.

“Then we just need to accept that and make an effort to get to know her better,” Cara stated matter-of-factly, her words ringing with a sense of pragmatic wisdom. Lando's fingertips lingered on her exposed waist, his thoughts swirling with uncertainty as he contemplated her words.

“You might, but there's no way Max will do that,” he countered, his tone tinged with resignation. Cara's response was swift, her conviction unwavering as she offered him a gentle reminder.

“He's known you forever. He's literally just being protective,” she stated, her words carrying a note of reassurance.

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this-insidious-dawn · 8 months

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This Insidious Dawn is a dark fantasy IF wherein you play as a vampire, employed under the clandestine League of the Third God to hunt down anything -- everything - that does not belong in this world. But you do not belong here either, Warden. Demo tba.

☼ SYNOPSIS

The League saved you. Rewrote your life- gave you a chance to be more than a bloodstarved vampyr. Or did they?

You remember nothing of your past before the League; nothing but blood and indescribable agony, nothing but the thrumming of your heart stilling- and then beginning again, stilted and wrong. That was over a decade ago, the memories now faint and the connection quivering. They've been replaced, overwritten by years of blades clashing, body aches, and hollow hunger.

You started out weak. Starving, skin-and-bones, desperate for any reprieve you could get your hands on. Now, you're strong, each hunt -- each cut - giving you just enough energy to keep your worn body going. Some people would call it cruel, to keep a sentient being on the edge of death. Most people, though, would say that you're a vampire, so you hardly count as sentient.

Regardless of the morality of it, the method was effective. You were one of -- no, the most - efficient Warden the League had to offer.

And then a hunt went wrong. And now you're dead. But- a vampire (no, not a vampire; a vampyr) can never truly die. So you're back. But is it really you?

☼ FEATURES

↠ Customize your Warden. Appearance, gender, pronouns, and personality are all up to your choices as the player.

↠ This is a psychological horror first and foremost. It will have themes of dehumanization and derealization, amongst others. CWs will be offered.

↠ A character-driven plot where your choices impact the story.

↠ A cast of four consisting of The Acolyte, The Commander, The Savior, and The Forgotten, any of which you can optionally romance no matter your Warden's gender.

☼ CAST

↠ THE ACOLYTE

As with any vampire, you are accompanied by an acolyte to keep you in check and ensure that your hunts go well- as well as to mend any Gorges that riftspawn might crawl out of. Constantine Nimecidus fills this role, in your case (ae/aer). Ae is sharp-tongued, with a chronic lack of patience towards the people and world around aer, and can come across as snappy or rude. In other instances still, aer sarcastic, dry, and often untimely humor can offer a quick relief from the tension of any situation- or make it several times worse. Despite aer casual, laidback nature in the face of most events, ae places utmost importance on aer job, and quickly becomes intense whenever ae feels as if ae or aer position are being in any way threatened. You've spent years going on hunts with aer at this point, but the connection has never transcended the necessary 'I save you, you save me' exchange. Ae seems wary of you.

Constantine is a bit shorter than most, standing at 5'3. Ae has broad shoulders and hips, and is thickset with both muscle and fat. Aer amber skin is dappled with symmetrical pale patches, especially prevalent around aer eyes and mouth, and the lack of pigmentation has bled into aer hair in some spots, giving the dark auburn eye-catching streaks of white. Said hair is curly and cut shorter along the sides than the back is, and ae spends an awful lot of time preening it. Aer eyes are a striking, slightly luminescent bronze, and aer pupils appear instead of black as molten gold, shifting slightly in color to match aer emotions at any given moment. Ae has full lips and slightly upturned, monolid eyes. Ae favors shades of brown, tan, and orange in aer outfit, and ae near-constantly dons a rich red capelet with fur trimming around the hood.

↠ THE COMMANDER

Ex-commander of the Serpent's Guard-turned vampire. You'd personally never had a run-in with Alvaros Vepir until just recently (he/him). He's gruff, jaded, and withdrawn- exactly what you'd expect out of the man who gave his life for his queen only to nearly die (again) for it. It's hard to say, though, how much of his time as the commander he truly remembers. Alvaros is a poet's dream, the hero in an epic-turned-tragedy. He keeps everybody at arm's length, never allowing them to learn more than what the stories and theatrics tell of him. This is especially true of you- the vampire who was sent to reign him in, turn him from a rogue vampyr into a soldier of the League. Despite his emotional avoidance of you, though, he seems quite interested in you. Maybe it's the fact you're one of the few to have bested him in combat. Maybe it's just that 'vampiric charm' that old legends tell about (but that never seems to work outside of fights). Maybe it's because he remembers you.

Alvaros is intimidating in every manner. He stands at 6'4, his whole body is lean and scarred, and the black sclerae encircling dark green irises certainly does him no favors in lessening the effect. Before you were dispatched to retrieve him, you couldn't have said what he looked like; as the commander, he'd worn the veil regular of high-ranking members of the Serpent's Ring, leaving nothing but the back of his head exposed. Now, you know of his face well enough that you could probably recognize him in a crowd. With fawn skin dotted by freckles, hooded eyes, and a distinctive hooked nose, Alvaros is exactly what one would expect of a native of southern Ghel- save for his hair. Instead of the expected brown or black, his hair is a muddy blonde, and it has slight waves that turn into full curls at the tips. He maintains it short, never reaching past his chin. His face is scarred (his everything is, really), with a particularly nasty gash reaching from his left eyebrow down to his right jaw. It just barely misses his right eye.

↠ THE SAVIOR

An acolyte? You think so, anyways. Suri Revlece is the woman who saved you (she/her). You don't know whether or not she's even with the League, but she certainly looks like an acolyte. You don't know what she was doing there, either, but she seems willing to answer any of your questions while you recover- as long as they aren't personal. She's kind enough, but seems a little...off. She's finicky, always looking over her shoulder. She's running from something, but she doesn't seem to know what. She appears to believe that she and you have some type of camaraderie, although you've never met. But there's something to be said for the sheer strength of her magic- you've never seen an acolyte's shimmer burn a riftspawn like that. Never seen one with an eye glowing that bright, either. She's an anomaly- one that you're sure the headman at your partner's spire would be more than glad to have amongst their ranks, but then the mere idea of it had her denying it with vehemence. It seems like she has a history with it.

Suri has a mesmerizing look to her. The deep brown of her skin, near-black of her hair, and dark garb are contrasted with bright pops of color. One eye is a brightly glowing orange, the pupil nearly white, and the other is a misty grey, its almond shape deformed by the burn scars warping the left side of her face. That dark hair, braided and reaching down to about her hips, is decorated by light brown and gold beads engraved with runes that seem to serve to channel her magic. Her frame is lanky and she's long-limbed, reaching just above what most would think of as an 'average height', at 5'8. Below a brown leather cloak, more runed jewelry decorates her wrists and fingers, and her hands are tattooed in shades of bronze. The burn upon her face is not the only such injury she has suffered; her palms are burnt the slightest bit, and similar scars wrap around her arms. She has a broad nose and thick heart-shaped lips, and light stubble sits above the top lip.

↠ THE FORGOTTEN

You don't know who they are anymore. Who are they? (he/they/she)

A shadowy form, the silhouette of a memory. There's something not quite right about them. What have they become?

☼ LINKS

Demo - tba

Other blogs - @azraels-bad-choices (main IF blog) and @a-firsthand-murder-ballad (other project)

#interactive fiction #writing #interactive novel #if wip #twine game #if intro #this insidious dawn if

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improbable-outset · 8 months

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📂 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞

𝐂𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐬:

♥︎: 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩

♡: 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩

♦︎: 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

♣︎: 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭

♠︎: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠...

↳ 📂 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚.𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞

SFW Alphabet

NSFW Alphabet

‘Look at you…’ ♠︎

Tirelessly ♣︎

Semi-Masochist ♠︎

For his eyes only ♠︎

Sensory deprivation ♠︎

Big Brain ♥︎♠︎

Stress♥︎♣︎

Untitled.doc ♠︎

Eres mía ♥︎♠︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You’re not the only one experiencing cravings during your pregnancy

‘Tis the Season ♡♠︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: It’s the holiday season and for some reason, you thought it would be a good idea to rile Miguel up more than you usually do. That was until you were taken back to his lab and he gained the upper hand over you.

Meet Cute ♦︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You didn’t expect the mysterious man that you met at a wedding to change your whole trajectory of the night

Static in the Air ♠︎♣︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Divorce was supposed to bring closure, but for Miguel, it only fuelled a lingering ache for the woman he still loved. Convincing himself that ending the marriage was for your benefit, he didn't realise the depth of his mistake until he saw you moving on.

Scientist Husband Masterlist ♥︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Marrying a scientist superhero has its unique perks

In his Crimson-Filled eyes [Part 2] [Part 3] ♣︎♥︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After waking up from a year-long coma, you find yourself in the hospital with the tender embrace of your husband sitting beside you. You have no memory of your marriage nor the life you shared together. As you try to navigate the scattered memories, Miguel becomes your guiding light through your journey of transcending memories.

Rekindling an Old Love [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] ♣︎♠︎♥︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: In your complex web of your shared history, you and Miguel, your ex-husband and co-worker, struggle to communicate without clashing your professional and personal lives. However, an unexpected moment sparks a longing between the two of you. Despite the tension, a shared moment reveals unspoken desires and deep secrets.

Envy from the next room [Part 2] [Part 3] ♡♠︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Miguel has mixed feelings towards your new boyfriend. That was until you came back with very exciting devastating news

I’m loving you from a distance but the road is getting longer ♣︎♠︎

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: It’s been over a year since you split up, but unfortunately for Miguel, things are still taking a toll. Even after going your separate ways, you still have to see each other everyday and it was affecting his performance. Meanwhile, your dual life as a loyal lover and as Spider-Woman is putting a lingering strain on your new relationship. The ripple effect of your breakup is coming back to bite you in the ass in the most unexpected way possible.

#★— ayrus writes #spiderman atsv #spiderman across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel spiderverse #miguel o’hara imagine #across the spiderverse #spider man 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #atsv miguel #atsv x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o’hara x y/n

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scoonsalicious · 1 month

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Prologue: Lily

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntire, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language,

Word Count: 413

A/N: Please accept this little preview nugget.

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Best friends to Lovers. Lily McIntyre couldn’t think of a single thing more romantic than that. She’d spent her entire life searching for that one person who would transcend the bonds of friendship into something so much more, and for years, she’d been left wanting. So many friendships left to flounder when the necessary spark failed to materialize, so many seemingly perfect connections ruined because she wanted more than any of these so-called “best” friends could give. It felt unfair. It felt cruel. It felt hopeless.

Until.

Lily remembered the day like it were yesterday, forever seared into her memory as though it had been branded there, and it in a way, it had been, because the moment she met Bucky Barnes had become an indelible part of her, a core moment in the creation of the perfect life she desired– no, deserved to have.

It was warm for late March, the birdsong thick in the air as she ran a batch of new SHIELD recruits through their drills on the outside training track of the new Avengers’ Compound in Upstate New York. She hadn’t been thrilled with Tony Stark when he’d insisted on moving the operation out of the city proper, but she had to admit, being away from the congestion of the metropolis ended up having its perks. Besides, the city was still close enough to enjoy all the amenities it had to offer.

She’d just sent her group off to do sprints when she saw Captain America, himself, approach her, followed by a stranger she’d never seen before.

She was immediately struck by how gorgeous he was– chiseled jaw, piercing blue eyes, shy, timid smile. Perfection, she thought, as Captain Rogers introduced the man as his best friend, James “Bucky” Barnes.

“Lily runs the training program for new SHIELD recruits,” the Captain was saying. Lily found she could only nod and smile as Steve explained the training program, so transfixed was she by this handsome new stranger. Bucky listened with polite interested, then said something about wanting to go check out the obstacle course, and as he walked away, the Captain leaned toward Lily and spoke softly, so as not to be overheard.

“Buck’s going to be joining us in the Compound. Aside from me, he hasn’t really got any other friends, so, you think you could help make him feel at home? Maybe try to be his friend?”

“It would be an honor, Captain,” Lily agreed, smiling. Absolute perfection.

Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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jubileemon · 3 months

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Fizzmodeus

Somehow in the infernal landscape of Hell, the relationship between Fizzarolli and Asmodeus, stands out as a sweet love story for the ages.

They were first introduced in the episode 'Ozzie's'. Despite their public disdain for sentimental relationships, they are entangled in a secret romance that defies Hell's social hierarchy and expectations. At first, Fizz and Asmodeus appeared as massive hypocrites, mocking others for their romantic endeavors while secretly harboring their own.

Fizzarolli's life was marked by a traumatic experience with fire, resulting in losing his horns and cybernetic replacements. As he thought Blitzo abandoned him to burn, Fizz began to develop a deep resentment towards his former best friend. Despite his normal jovial nature Fizzarolli suffers from extreme self-worth and self-image issues, the latter of which mostly originating from the severe injuries he received from a circus fire that he was involved in when he was younger. Because of this, he feels like he needs to do whatever Mammon tells him to do, as he feels he must repay the man for all the fame and success being his brand figure has brought, despite how horribly he is treated.

Working under Mammon, the Sin of Greed, further complicates his identity when Fizz became a symbol of Mammon's brand. The cost of fame weighs heavily on him, as public scrutiny and the demands of celebrity challenge his sense of self and personal values. Asmodeus' title as the Sin of Lust comes with its own set of expectations, yet his love for Fizzarolli transcends these. His protective instincts are often on display, particularly when Fizzarolli is in danger or vulnerable. Despite the initial portrayal of their relationship as hypocritical, the secret romance between Fizzarolli and Asmodeus is depicted as both sweet and healthy.

Despite one being a demon prince and one being an imp, and also portraying their partnership in public as purely lustful, Fizzarolli and Asmodeus' relationship is actually as healthy and romantic if not more so than Moxxie and Millie's, where the two are equals who look out for each other. Asmodeus' even lets Fizzarolli go out in public without him or an escort to defend him, despite Ozzie's concerns, because Fizzarolli wants to go alone, a far cry from if Ozzie truly didn't care about Fizzy beyond having sex with him. It's like if Stolas and Blitzø managed to work things out between them and had things be not so rocky.

Hard to believe, but aside from sex jokes, occasional rudeness and his grudge towards his former best friend, Fizzarolli stayed as nice and innocent as he was in childhood, despite all of his trauma. He does admit that it was difficult and challenging at first, but Fizzarolli finding someone who cared so much about him has led to him feeling like he leads a good life.

The relationship between Fizzarolli and Asmodeus is not without its trials. Asmodeus's deep concern for Fizzarolli's well-being is evident when Fizzarolli is taken hostage, an event that ignites Asmodeus's fury and prompts him to take drastic measures to secure Fizzarolli's safety. This protective streak is further shown in their interactions with Mammon, another Prince of Hell, whose abusive and manipulative behavior towards Fizzarolli causes Asmodeus to harbor intense animosity towards him.

In Season 2, Asmodeus reassuring Fizz at the beginning that he doesn't have to worry about being "perfect" for Mammon because perfection is impossible, and that he deserves a break or vacation without having to fend off creeps constantly.

Asmodeus' line when he rephrases his actual feelings in regard to Fizz being in Mammon's clown contest: "I don't like how many creeps you have now, thanks to Mammon. And I don't like designing sex toys with your likeness for him. Pretty sure you feel the same"; this one line has numerous, subtle but still important subtext that really shows how much Asmodeus cares for and respects Fizzarolli. Just the fact that Asmodeus is being honest about his feelings about Fizzarolli being in Mammon's competition.

In most forms of media, when someone doesn't like something that their significant other is doing, they’ll either dance around it until they can’t take it anymore and/or even lie to get their partner to stop. But Asmodeus doesn't do that - when his initial plea doesn't work, he gets straight to the point of him not liking it but in a healthy and mature manner. He doesn't put any blame on Fizzarolli for his own discomfort, instead putting it all rightly on Mammon's greedy shoulders.

Asmodeus' dislike over Fizzarolli as Mammon's brand figure not only comes from a place of concern and worry but respect. In the second sentence of his above-mentioned line, he mentions he does not like having sex toys in Fizz's likeness. Given that he's the King of Lust, one would think he would hardly care, but he does. Because it's his boyfriend using in such a way. Asmodeus also makes sure to note that he's also aware that Fizzarolli doesn't like the sex-bots as well. He's acknowledging not only his own discomfort but his partner's.

After acting like everything's all righr for the majority of the episode and having a full-on panic attack in his dressing room, Fizz finally pours out his insecurities to Asmodeus, telling him that he's terrified of losing him if he doesn't win the pageant because he feels that Ozzie's only with him because of who he is under Mammon's patronage. He even yanks his jester hat off - revealing his scarred, splotchy head and the jagged stumps of what remains of his horns - in an attempt to show Ozzie what he believes he is without Mammon: an ugly, broken, worthless imp.

"Crooked" is a sweet, simple song where Asmodeus and Fizz admit that while they both have their flaws and insecurities.

Asmodeus reassures him of his worth and publicly declares his love, a bold move that underscores the depth of his feelings and his willingness to face potential consequences for the sake of their relationship. Instead of the crowd being shocked or mocking the two, they are all instead excited and reveal they already had theories on it.

Crimson did call Ozzie's relationship with Fizz "the worst-kept secret in all of Hell." Nearly everyone in the crowd probably already knew or at least suspected. Which makes their reaction all the more heartwarming because it's acceptance. One of Ozzie's main worries was being seen as a hypocrite for being the incarnation of carnal hedonism while having a loving, monogamous relationship. It turns out nobody thinks that at all. The King of Lust has fallen in love, and everybody is happy for him.

#helluva boss #helluva boss analysis #fizzarolli #fizzmodeus #fizzarozzie #fizzaroli helluva boss #helluva boss asmodeus #asmodeus x fizzarolli #relationship #couples #true love #romance #hazbin hotel #vivziepop #hellaverse #helluva boss mammon #helluva boss fizzmodeus #why i love this ship

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 5 months

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When The Clock Strikes Midnight.

my masterlist || ask me anything <3

authors note - hi, my last post of the year, i just want to wish everyone reading this a very happy new year and that everything turns out alright, tpwk and stay safe!!

this is a pretty angsty piece i would say, as it covers topics of alcoholism where reader struggles with her alcohol, so please if this sort of thing triggers you in anyway, please do not read and if you do, please proceed with caution.

word count - 3.9k

in which, you and harry broke up just over a year ago, and have not seen each other since, but when your friend invites you to a new years eve party with all your close ones there, the last person you expected to see walk through the door was him.

The last place you saw yourself tonight was here.

Your best friend Maura had practically dragged you out of the confines of your apartment when she heard that you didn’t have any plans for New Year’s Eve, and insisted that you dress up and come along to the party her boyfriend Watson was throwing.

You tried to deny her nagging and told her that you were going to order a takeaway, most likely Chinese and facetime your mum like you did last year, and that would be that.

But no…she wasn’t having any of it.

So you chucked on a jumper, which was on the nicer side and paired it with a skirt and tights and your vans before applying a tiny bit of mascara and lipgloss and brushing your hair, before you were ushered out of the house into the Uber Maura had ordered whilst you were getting ready.

So now, here you were.

You find yourself in a corner of Watson's living room at the party, nursing a glass of coke as people swirl around you in a lively dance of laughter and chatter. The pulsating music fills the room, but you, lost in your own thoughts, wonder why you agreed to come in the first place.

Maura's insistence was hard to resist, but your reluctance lingers like a shadow.

Despite the energetic atmosphere, you're content to sip your non-alcoholic beverage and observe the whirlwind of festivities. Maura and Watson seem immersed in the revelry, blissfully unaware of your desire for a more tranquil evening.

The room's vibrant energy contrasts sharply with your subdued mood, as you contemplate the impending arrival of the new year with a sense of detachment.

Watson, with a hint of tipsiness in his step, ambles over to you in the corner of the living room. His usual laid-back demeanour shines through, but the warmth in his eyes intensifies as he wraps an arm around your shoulder.

"Hey, you made it!" he exclaims, a wide grin on his face. Despite the slight wobble in his stance, you can't help but smile in response to his infectious enthusiasm.

Leaning in, Watson expresses genuine happiness that you decided to join the celebration.

"I'm so glad you're here, buddy. No one should spend New Year's Eve alone, right?" He punctuates his words with a friendly squeeze, and the camaraderie between you two, forged over the past six months since he began dating Maura, feels more like family than friendship.

In his slightly inebriated state, Watson plants a gentle kiss on the side of your head, a gesture that reflects the bond that has developed between you.

"You're like a little sister to me, you know that?" he chuckles, his words carrying a warmth that transcends the alcohol-induced haze. It's a testament to the solid foundation of your relationship, built on trust and camaraderie.

With a playful twinkle in his eyes, Watson decides it's time to shake off any lingering reservations you might have.

"Come on, let's hit the dance floor!" he declares, tugging you toward the centre of the room. The music's rhythm wraps around you both as Watson, with his signature charm, spins you into the lively dance.

Laughter and cheers surround you, and in this moment, you can't help but appreciate the unexpected joy that Watson has injected into your reluctant New Year's Eve.

As you sway to the music, Watson continues to share anecdotes and jokes, making the dance floor an extension of the bond you've formed. His boisterous laughter and the genuine joy in his expression erode any lingering doubts you had about attending. In the midst of the revelry, you realise that Watson's presence has transformed the night from an obligation into a shared celebration.

With each step and twirl, Watson's camaraderie becomes a comforting presence, and you find yourself immersed in the moment.

As you engage in conversation with Watson on the crowded dance floor, the doorbell unexpectedly rings, interrupting the lively atmosphere. Watson glances towards the entrance, a perplexed expression momentarily crossing his face.

"I'll be right back, just need to see who's at the door," he informs you, detaching from the dance momentarily.

Curiosity piqued, you nod and watch as Watson weaves through the festive crowd towards the entrance. The door swings open, and to your shock, your ex-boyfriend Harry steps into Watson's house.

They exchange greetings, and you can't help but wonder how they're connected. Watson glances your way, and you sense that he must have divulged your presence to Harry.

The room felt suffocating as you sat on Harry's sofa, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken tension. The air crackled with an impending storm, and you could sense that something was about to shatter the fragile peace that had held your relationship together.

Harry's eyes, once filled with warmth and adoration, now held a distant sadness. His fingers nervously played with the edge of his shirt, betraying the turmoil within.

"We need t’talk," he finally uttered, the weight of those words settling in the room like a leaden silence.

You looked at him, anxiety clawing at your chest.

"What's going on, H?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He took a deep breath, his gaze dropping to the floor before meeting yours again.

"I've been thinking a lot, and... I think we need t’take a break," he confessed, each word hanging in the air like an unspoken truth.

The room seemed to tilt, the weight of those words crashing into you.

"A break? What do you mean?" Your voice wavered, a sense of dread settling in the pit of your stomach.

Harry's eyes welled with tears as he struggled to articulate the pain that lingered in his heart. "I can't give y’what y’deserve. M’career, the constant traveling , I can't be the best boyfriend f’you. Y’deserve someone who can be there f’you, not someone who's always halfway across the world."

More like you can’t give him what he deserves, your a mess, A drunken mess who can’t be trusted around a glass of wine or a gin and tonic.

It was your fault that he had had enough of the relationship, he was sick of looking after a girlfriend who couldn’t even look after herself, you weren’t what he wanted anymore and who could blame him?

You didn’t even want yourself anymore.

Your eyes mirrored the pain in his, tears streaming down your cheeks.

"But I don't want someone else. I want you," you pleaded, your heart breaking with every passing second.

He reached out, fingers gently wiping away your tears, a tender ache etched across his features.

"M’know, and s’why this hurts so damn much. I love you, but I can't watch y’waiting f’me all the time, feeling lonely. Y’deserve more than that."

The room echoed with the silence of shattered dreams as you both sat there, wrapped in the agony of an impending separation.

"I thought we could make it work," you whispered, your voice barely audible amidst the heartache.

Harry's voice trembled as he spoke, his eyes mirroring the anguish in your own. "I thought so too, but I can't keep asking you t’wait f’a future that's uncertain. It's not fair t’you."

The weight of the impending break weighed on you both, and the room became a crucible of emotions.

"I can't believe this is happening," you uttered, your voice catching on a sob.

Harry pulled you into an embrace, holding you close as if trying to memorize the feel of your presence.

"I never wanted to hurt you," he whispered, the words a fragile admission of the pain etched across his heart.

As the room witnessed the unraveling of your shared dreams, the tears flowed freely, and the echoes of a love that once burned bright now flickered in the dimming light of heartbreak. The sofa, witness to your shared laughter and whispered confessions, now bore the weight of an anguished goodbye.

"I thought we were stronger than this," you choked out, your words a desperate plea for reassurance.

Harry's response was a strained whisper, heavy with regret. "Love isn't always enough, and that's the hardest part to accept."

Your heart skips a beat as Harry's eyes sweep the room, eventually locking onto you. The unexpected encounter catches you off guard, and you feel a lump forming in your throat. Unsure of how to react, you instinctively turn I’m away, making a hasty retreat to the kitchen.

you navigate through the crowded kitchen, the echoes of the past still haunting the recesses of your mind. The room, once a sanctuary, now pulsates with the vibrant energy of the New Year's Eve celebration. As you lean against the counter, you attempt to catch your breath, the atmosphere thick with the weight of unexpected emotions.

The room is a sea of faces, laughter, and clinking glasses, but in this moment, you feel a profound sense of isolation. The air is heavy with the unspoken tension that lingers after encountering Harry, and you find solace in the rhythmic pattern of your own breaths. Each inhale and exhale becomes a deliberate act, a quiet rebellion against the memories that threatened to resurface.

Your eyes inadvertently gravitate towards a bottle of vodka on the crowded kitchen counter, a silent temptation beckoning from its transparent confines. The memories of your past struggles with alcohol loom heavily, each incident etched into your consciousness like a haunting refrain. The room pulses with celebratory energy, yet the familiar lure of numbing the pain through a drink threatens to unravel your hard-fought sobriety.

The bottle stands as a silent witness to the battles you've waged, a tangible reminder of the coping mechanism you once clung to in moments of despair. The urge to drown the resurgence of emotions triggered by seeing Harry again intensifies, as if the vodka holds the promise of temporary relief from the tumult within. However, the echo of past hospital visits, the panicked calls from Maura during Harry's tours, and the aftermath of your own struggles remind you of the high cost that accompanies each sip.

The sterile hospital room bore witness to your feigned slumber as Harry and the doctor engaged in a conversation that would forever echo in your memory. Their voices, a discordant symphony of concern, cut through the antiseptic atmosphere.

"You need to understand the gravity of the situation, Mr. Styles. Her liver is under immense strain," the doctor explained, the weight of the diagnosis evident in their tone. "Excessive alcohol intake has brought her here before, and if it continues, we risk irreversible damage."

Harry's voice, tinged with a mixture of fear and frustration, joined the conversation. "What can we do t’make her stop? This can't be good f’her, and I can't bear to see her like this again."

The doctor, ever composed, responded with a professional calm. "Encouraging her to seek professional help is crucial. She needs intervention and support to address the root causes behind her drinking patterns. This goes beyond just a medical issue."

Your heart sank as you lay there, eavesdropping on the conversation that underscored the depth of your struggle.

"She's in a dangerous cycle, and we need to break it before it leads to irreversible consequences," the doctor continued, the gravity of their words sinking in.

Harry, struggling to comprehend the severity of the situation, pressed for guidance. "What should I say t’her? How can I help her understand the impact of her actions?"

The doctor's response held a note of empathy. "Express your concern without judgment. Encourage her to seek counseling or join support groups. It's crucial that she feels supported and understood during this process."

As the dialogue unfolded, you grappled with a mix of emotions – shame, guilt, and the daunting realization that your actions were not only affecting you but those who cared about you.

The familiar pull of an old coping mechanism clashes with the resolve you've built over the past year. Without much thought, you lift the bottle, contemplating the relief it promises, only to freeze as a voice interrupts your inner struggle.

"Don't you dare take a sip from that bottle."

The words, stern and commanding, cut through the haze of your thoughts. You recognize the voice instantly, and a mixture of surprise and apprehension washes over you. Slowly, you turn around to face him, the bottle held in your hand like a delicate secret.

Harry stands there, his expression a mixture of concern and determination.

"You've come too far t’let this be y’undoing," he states, his gaze unwavering. The air between you hangs heavy with unspoken emotions as you contemplate his unexpected intervention.

Resisting the urge to avoid his gaze, you decide to walk past him, hoping to escape the confrontation. However, his hand closes around your wrist, preventing your departure.

"Let it go," he implores, his eyes searching yours for a hint of understanding. The bottle dangles between you, a tangible symbol of the inner turmoil that threatens to resurface.

In the charged silence, Harry's grip on your wrist feels both restraining and grounding.

"Y’don't need this, and y’know it," he adds, his voice softening. The vulnerability in his eyes mirrors the complex history you share, the wounds of the past laid bare in this unexpected moment of confrontation.

Glancing at the clock, you note the relentless ticking, each second stretching out like an eternity. Twenty minutes until midnight, and the anticipation of a fresh start intensifies. The atmosphere feels stifling as you wrestle with conflicting emotions, your hand still in Harry's grip. The unspoken tension lingers, and you decide that the arrival of the new year will also signal your exit.

Jerking your hand away from Harry's hold, you feel a surge of frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

"I can't do this anymore," you mutter, the anguished words hanging in the air between you. The clock's relentless countdown amplifies the urgency of the moment.

Turning to face him, you meet Harry's gaze with a steely resolve.

"I'm not a child. I can do what I want," you assert, the words carrying a weight that transcends the immediate situation. The bitterness in your voice mirrors the tumultuous emotions churning within.

Harry's expression shifts from concern to a mix of frustration and helplessness.

"This isn't about control, it's about caring," he argues, the lines of his forehead creasing with worry. The room feels smaller, the air thick with the unresolved tension of the past.

"I don't need your care," you snap, your tone cutting through the charged atmosphere. The proximity of midnight becomes both a countdown to liberation and a reminder of the constraints that linger. The resentment that simmers beneath your words reflects a deeper struggle against the shadows of a shared history.

You walk out of the kitchen, the bottle still in your hand, its cold surface a stark reminder of the internal struggle you've been wrestling with. Glancing down at it, you contemplate the temptation it holds. However, a determined sigh escapes your lips as you decide against taking that path. In search of solace, you spot Maura near the bathroom, engrossed in conversation with a friend.

As she notices you approaching, Maura ushers you over with a warm smile. The vodka bottle clinks softly, drawing her attention.

"You didn't, did you?" she asks, her eyes widening with concern. You hand her the bottle, and she gasps when she realizes its weight.

"I almost did," you admit, the honesty heavy in your words. "Seeing Harry after a year... it's just really hard, and I thought I needed something to take the edge off."

Maura's expression shifts from shock to a compassionate understanding. She places a comforting hand on your shoulder, leading you away from the commotion.

"You don't need to have a drink to feel something, darling," she reassures, her voice a soothing balm. "Facing those emotions is tough, but numbing them won't make them disappear. You're stronger than you think."

The weight of her words resonates, and you find a sense of grounding in Maura's wisdom.

"I just... I didn't expect it to hit me this hard," you confess, the vulnerability of the moment laid bare.

Maura nods, her empathy evident. "Love has a way of lingering, especially when there's history. It's okay to feel, even if it's painful. You've come so far, and I know you can navigate this without resorting to old habits."

As the clock ticks closer to midnight, Maura's words serve as a reminder that facing the emotions head-on is a strength, not a weakness.

The night air in the back garden carries a crisp chill, providing a respite from the crowded and charged atmosphere indoors. With just five minutes until midnight, you find solace in the quietude of the outdoors. The rustling of leaves and the distant hum of laughter create a backdrop for contemplation as you seek to contain the swirl of thoughts within.

The faint glow of string lights casts a gentle illumination, revealing a mosaic of emotions etched on your face. The weight of the past, the encounter with Harry, and the echoes of previous struggles converge in this moment of reflection. The cool breeze becomes a metaphorical breath, allowing you to exhale the complexities that have unfolded throughout the night.

Despite the passage of time, you find that lingering feelings persist, stubbornly anchored in the recesses of your emotions. The garden, illuminated by the soft glow of string lights, becomes a backdrop for a bittersweet revelation – you still carry a flame for him.

However, self-awareness prevails, and you acknowledge the undeniable truth that echoes in the quiet of the night. The person you once were, entwined with Harry in a different chapter of your lives, no longer aligns with the person he seeks now. The journey of growth and self-discovery has shaped you both in divergent ways, leading to an understanding that the path forward must be traversed separately.

With a deep breath, you accept the inevitability of change and recognize that clinging to what once was will only hinder your individual paths.

A subtle clearing of the throat interrupts your contemplation in the garden, prompting you to turn. To your surprise, Harry stands there with two glasses of lemonade, his expression softening as he offers them to you.

"Been looking f’you," he says, a hint of concern in his voice.

You accept the lemonade with a nod, appreciating the gesture even as the complexity of emotions lingers in the air.

"Just needed some fresh air," you reply, your gaze momentarily dropping to the glass in your hands.

Harry takes a seat on the concrete step next to you, the night air carrying a blend of both familiarity and unspoken tension.

"Mind if I join you?" he asks, and you find yourself hesitating before reluctantly nodding. The silence that follows is palpable, laden with the echoes of a shared history.

"I never thought I'd see you again after everything," Harry admits, his eyes fixed on the distant horizon. You sense a vulnerability in his tone, a shared acknowledgment of the complexities that led to your parting.

"Yeah, life takes unexpected turns," you respond, tracing the rim of your glass with your fingertips. The garden, once a haven for solitary reflection, transforms into an arena for the unspoken exchange between two people navigating the remnants of a connection.

Harry's gaze meets yours, and a soft smile plays on his lips. "I've missed this, y’know? Just talking like we used to."

The sentiment catches you off guard, and you muster a small smile in return. "Things change, Harry. We change."

Harry's admission hangs heavy in the air as he confesses,

"I've missed y’a lot. Every night before bed, you're all I think about." The vulnerability in his voice is evident, the weight of unspoken longing underscoring his words.

You take a moment, the weight of his confession settling in the quiet of the garden. With a sigh, you respond, "It was the right decision to take a break. I was a mess, and I wasn't what you wanted."

However, before you can elaborate, Harry interrupts, a furrow forming on his brow. "No, s’not why. I never once thought about breaking up with y’because of y’drinking problems. It was the constant leaving, the distance. I felt like I couldn't be the partner y’eeded."

His words catch you off guard, a mix of surprise and realization washing over you. The clarity in his confession adds a layer of complexity to the narrative you had constructed in your mind.

"I thought... I thought it was because of me," you admit, the vulnerability echoing in your own voice.

Harry reaches for your hand, a gesture that conveys both comfort and sincerity. "It wasn't about you. It was about me feeling like I couldn't be the best partner f’you. I should've communicated that better."

The garden, witness to the intimate exchange, becomes a space for newfound understanding. The dialogue unfolds, untangling the threads of misperception and unveiling the intricacies of the emotions that lingered beneath the surface. As the clock approaches midnight, the shared revelations become a poignant marker in the journey toward healing and clarity.

His thumb gently traces circles on the back of your hand as he continues, "I regret asking for that break. I didn't realize how much it would affect me, being without you. I've spent every night wondering if I made the right decision."

You meet his gaze, a mix of compassion and acceptance in your eyes. "H, it was the right decision for both of us. I was a mess back then, and I couldn't have given you what you needed. It wasn't just about the drinking; it was about me figuring myself out."

Hearing you call him by the familiar nickname of ‘H’ has his heart twitching beneath his rib cage, oh how he’s missed you calling him that.

He squeezes your hand, a silent acknowledgment of your words. "But not once did I think about ending things because of y’struggles. It was the constant coming and going, the uncertainty. I felt like I was leaving y’alone too often, and it wasn't fair t’you."

As the conversation deepens, the layers of misunderstanding peel away, revealing the raw authenticity beneath.

"I never wanted you t’feel like y’couldn't be yourself," Harry admits, a sincerity coloring his tone. "I should've communicated better, been more honest about how I was feeling."

It isn’t long before the people crowded inside the house start counting down from ten, only second away from being embraced by 2024.

“10…”

“9…”

Harry leans in close, his words a hushed confession, "I still love you."

“8…”

“7…”

Caught off guard, you turn to look at him, the sincerity in his eyes echoing the sentiments you thought were buried in the past. you find your voice, whispering amidst the cacophony, "I love you too."

“6…”

“5…”

The counting continues, a rhythmic backdrop to the shared revelation hanging in the air. In a moment of vulnerability, Harry's gaze lingers on yours.

“4…”

“3…”

And that’s when he musters up enough courage to ask for the first time in a year. "Can I kiss you?"

“2…”

“1…”

As the countdown approaches its climax, the world outside the window erupts in cheers.

In the final seconds, the clock striking midnight, Harry softly presses his lips against yours, a tender exchange that marks the inception of a new year and a rekindled connection, forged amidst the symphony of shared confessions and the promise of a fresh start.

And this all happened when the clock struck midnight.

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vvanillavveins · 24 days

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I'm just going to say it: i love Good Omens for its ace-coding (and/or potential aro-coding, too). And, i think that it's very easy to view Crowley & Aziraphale as queerplatonic. When i say that, i don't mean that people are wrong for seeing their dynamic as purely romantic, i'm not at all dismissing the pair's obvious love and care and devotion towards one another. All i mean is that, if you want to, it's easy to read that love and care and devotion as platonic, i.e., a love for the other person's soul, above anything else. And that aspect of it heals a little part of my own soul every time i watch it.

Idk, it's just something about all of their little rituals, the thoughtful compliments, the favours and the gift-giving- done out of genuine kindness, not expecting anything in return except for getting to watch the other smile. Every interaction is full of symbolism and meaning, yet without being based on overt romantic love. It's also about how they can admire each other without touching- not because they don't love each other exactly- but because they are already so aware of their inherent togetherness that there is no real need to prove it through touch. Their relationship transcends physicality in the same way it seems to go beyond the boundaries of traditional romance. Even with the kiss in season 2, we know that it is not part of their established ways of showing affection, and we are shown that neither of them are comfortable with it because of that.

They've spent 6000 years cultivating their own unique love language, and the show goes to great lengths to keep expanding on that- not just throw it away or completely change it once Heaven and Hell are less involved in their lives on Earth. Crowley & Aziraphale's development together really is a beautiful thing to watch- and idk about any of you- but positive or even just neutral portrayal of non-traditional, sexless relationships feels like a rareity, especially when it comes to television. That's why this show is such a big source of comfort for me personally.

I'm autistic- so this might just be yet another case of me just not 'getting it', since i can't read faces or tones of voice- and therefore i'm just not seeing what everyone else is, but i'm hoping at least one other person out there interprets it this way too.

...

[I am talking about the TV show here; their asexuality felt a lot more overt in the book]

#especially when you compare how differently they behave in comparison with other angel/demon pairings like Gabriel & Beezlebub #i know that the show pushes the more romantic angle a lot harder than the book does - but it still isn't explicitly romantic either #asexual #aromantic #acespec #arospec #queer platonic relationship #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #asexual crowley #asexual aziraphale #asexual ineffable husbands #aroace ineffable husbands #asexual good omens

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zapreportsblog · 11 months

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Unveiling Secrets

➥ summary: Class 1A discovers something new about their class president

➥ Tenya Iida x Reader

➥ one shot

Within the bustling halls of U.A. High School, Class 1-A buzzed with activity, a vibrant group of young heroes-in-training. Among them, Tenya Iida stood as a beacon of discipline and focus, always the embodiment of a model student. Yet, unknown to his classmates, his heart held a secret—an unspoken connection that would soon come to light.

The morning sun cast its golden glow through the classroom windows as Class 1-A settled into their seats, eagerly awaiting the start of another day of training and learning. As the room hummed with anticipation, the door swung open, and a figure stepped inside.

All eyes turned towards the newcomer, surprise etched upon their faces. It was (Y/N), a second-year student, her presence adding an air of intrigue to the room. Tenya, taken aback by her sudden arrival, couldn't help but feel a mix of nervousness and excitement.

Ochaco Uraraka, her eyes wide with curiosity, spoke up first. "Since when did you have a girlfriend, Iida?"

Tenya's cheeks flushed with a hint of embarrassment, but he held his composure, his voice steady. "Actually, (Y/N) is my fiancée."

Gasps filled the room as Tenya's revelation sank in. The concept of an arranged marriage within their class seemed almost surreal, yet the truth of their connection began to take shape. The air crackled with a mix of shock, excitement, and a touch of envy.

Izuku Midoriya, his eyes shining with admiration, couldn't help but ask, "How did you meet, Iida? And how did your relationship come to be?"

Tenya smiled warmly, his gaze shifting towards (Y/N). "We were paired together since we were children, destined to be married to strengthen the bond between our families. But as we grew older, our feelings blossomed into something deeper. We realized that our connection went beyond duty and tradition. We fell in love."

Momo Yaoyorozu, her voice filled with awe, couldn't hide her fascination. "That's incredible, Iida. To have a love that's both rooted in tradition and genuine affection—it's truly something special."

(Y/N) stepped forward, her presence commanding attention. "Our relationship has been a journey of growth and understanding. We've learned to navigate the expectations placed upon us while honoring our individual desires and aspirations. Together, we support and encourage each other to become the best versions of ourselves."

As the realization settled upon the class, they exchanged glances filled with newfound respect. The concept of love, rooted in tradition yet blossoming with genuine emotion, was a testament to the complexities of the heart. Tenya and (Y/N) showcased a deep understanding and commitment, proving that love could evolve beyond initial circumstances.

Eijiro Kirishima, his voice filled with admiration, spoke up. "Iida, you've always been a model of discipline and focus. It's inspiring to see that even within the constraints of an arranged marriage, you've found a love that's true to your own hearts."

Tenya nodded, gratitude shining in his eyes. "Thank you, Kirishima. Our relationship has taught me the importance of staying true to myself while embracing the responsibilities that come with my family's traditions. It's a delicate balance, but (Y/N) has been my rock throughout it all."

The class, their initial shock giving way to understanding and acceptance, shared a collective moment of reflection. They realized that love could take many forms, and Tenya and (Y/N)'s connection was a testament to the depth of emotions that could develop even under the weight of expectations.

As the day progressed, the students of Class 1-A forged a newfound bond of respect for Tenya and (Y/N). They understood that love could be a powerful force, capable of transcending societal norms and traditions. It was a reminder that their own journey of self-discovery included not only becoming heroes but also nurturing the relationships that held importance in their lives.

And so, within the walls of U.A. High School, Class 1-A continued their journey, their hearts enriched by the understanding that love was a vast tapestry of emotions, intertwining duty and genuine affection. As they honed their powers and skills, they also learned the importance of nurturing the bonds that connected them, cherishing the complexity and beauty of love in all its forms.

And in the heart of it all, Tenya and (Y/N) stood as a beacon of hope, demonstrating that even within the constraints of an arranged marriage, love could flourish and ignite the brightest flames in their hearts.

•••

Time had flown swiftly, carrying Class 1-A into their second year at U.A. High School. The vibrant group of aspiring heroes had grown both individually and as a team, their bonds strengthening with each passing day. Amidst this bustling atmosphere, (Y/N) had become a third-year student, poised to embark on her own journey of growth and discovery.

On a bright and bustling day, (Y/N) found herself standing before the classroom where Tenya and his classmates convened. A smile played upon her lips as she clutched a carefully prepared bento, a tangible representation of her enduring love and support for Tenya.

As (Y/N) entered the room, the class turned their attention toward her, their curiosity piqued by her arrival. Tenya, his gaze meeting hers, felt a rush of warmth spread through his chest.

Ochaco Uraraka, her eyes wide with anticipation, couldn't help but blurt out, "Hey, (Y/N)! It's been a while. What brings you here today?"

(Y/N)'s smile widened as she held up the bento box. "I made this for Tenya. It's a small gesture to show my support and love."

Tenya's eyes sparkled with a mix of surprise and gratitude. "Thank you, (Y/N). I appreciate your thoughtfulness."

As Tenya accepted the bento, the class watched with a mix of awe and curiosity. Their intrigue had grown since learning about Tenya and (Y/N)'s arranged marriage, and witnessing the continuation of their traditions was both fascinating and heartwarming.

Mina Ashido, her voice filled with excitement, couldn't contain her curiosity any longer. "Tell us, (Y/N), what's it like being in an arranged marriage? How do you navigate the balance between tradition and your own desires?"

(Y/N) took a moment to gather her thoughts, her eyes filled with a mix of nostalgia and determination. "It's a journey of self-discovery, Mina. Our arranged marriage has been both a challenge and a gift. We've learned to find our own voices within the framework of our families' expectations. It's about cherishing tradition while staying true to ourselves."

Izuku Midoriya, his eyes filled with admiration, spoke up. "It sounds like you both have grown so much. Your love is inspiring, (Y/N)."

(Y/N) nodded, her voice gentle yet resolute. "Love is an ever-evolving journey, Izuku. We're constantly learning, adjusting, and supporting each other through it all. Our shared values and commitment to one another keep us grounded."

As the conversation continued, Class 1-A listened with rapt attention, captivated by (Y/N)'s insights into their unique relationship. They realized that love had no set path, and its manifestations were as diverse as the individuals experiencing it.

Shoto Todoroki, his gaze thoughtful, interjected, "Do you ever feel constrained by the expectations placed upon you, (Y/N)?"

(Y/N) met Shoto's gaze, her voice tinged with honesty. "At times, it can be challenging, Shoto. There are moments when the weight of tradition feels heavy. But love is about growth, and our relationship has allowed us to redefine our roles, navigate the complexities, and carve our own path within the arrangement."

Momo Yaoyorozu, her voice filled with admiration, spoke softly. "You both truly embody the spirit of heroes, embracing challenges head-on while remaining true to yourselves."

(Y/N) smiled, her heart warmed by their words. "Thank you, Momo. We strive to be the best versions of ourselves, not just for each other but for the world we wish to protect."

As the classroom settled into a comfortable silence, (Y/N) took her leave, bidding farewell to the class and leaving Tenya with the bento. She left behind a sense of awe and inspiration, her visit a reminder that love could transcend societal expectations and empower individuals to create their own narratives.

Tenya, holding the bento close to his heart, gazed at the doorway, contemplating the love and support he had found in (Y/N). Their bond, forged through tradition and nurtured by their own commitment, had shaped their journey in unexpected and beautiful ways.

Class 1-A, now even more aware of the depth of Tenya and (Y/N)'s love, exchanged glances filled with newfound respect and understanding. They had witnessed firsthand the power of tradition, the beauty of love, and the unbreakable spirit of their classmate.

And as they continued their second year at U.A. High School, the students of Class 1-A carried within them the lessons of (Y/N)'s visit—cherishing tradition while forging their own paths, embracing love in all its forms, and allowing their relationships to shape their journeys as aspiring heroes.

For within the halls of U.A. High School, the heroes of tomorrow learned that strength lay not only in their quirks but also in the love and support they offered one another. With (Y/N) as an emblem of the enduring power of love, Class 1-A embarked on their path, united by bonds that surpassed expectations and embraced the beauty of shared traditions and new beginnings.

•••

Time had flown swiftly, carrying Class 1-A into their third and final year at U.A. High School. The once-inexperienced heroes had evolved into formidable individuals, their dreams and aspirations within reach. Amidst this season of growth and transition, Tenya and (Y/N) prepared for a momentous occasion—their upcoming wedding.

In the common room of the dorms, a table was adorned with wedding magazines, fabric swatches, and carefully crafted invitations. Tenya and (Y/N) sat side by side, their eyes sparkling with excitement and anticipation. They were lost in a world of plans and possibilities, weaving their dreams into reality.

As they pored over the details of their special day, the door swung open, and the members of Class 1-A filed into the room. Surprise filled their eyes as they took in the scene before them—a tableau of love, dedication, and commitment.

Izuku Midoriya, his voice filled with awe, was the first to speak. "Tenya, (Y/N), I didn't realize you were planning your wedding already. Congratulations!"

Tenya's cheeks flushed with a mixture of excitement and slight embarrassment. "Thank you, Midoriya. We've been making preparations over the past few months, taking the time to ensure every detail reflects our shared vision."

Mina Ashido, her eyes wide with anticipation, couldn't contain her enthusiasm. "Can we help? We'd love to be a part of your special day!"

(Y/N) beamed, her heart touched by the support from their friends. "That would mean the world to us, Mina. We'd be grateful for any assistance you can offer."

As the class gathered around the table, the room filled with excitement and the scent of love in the air. The students eagerly poured over magazines, discussing ideas and sharing their own suggestions.

Ochaco Uraraka, her voice filled with enthusiasm, held up a fabric swatch. "What about this color for the bridesmaid dresses? It would complement the theme so well!"

Tenya and (Y/N) exchanged glances, their hearts swelling with gratitude. Their friends' involvement in their special day only deepened their appreciation for the bonds they had formed at U.A. High School.

Eijiro Kirishima, his voice filled with determination, chimed in, "We'll make sure your wedding day is as memorable as possible, Iida. We're a team, after all!"

Tenya's voice carried a mix of gratitude and sincerity. "Thank you, Kirishima. Your unwavering support means the world to us. Our wedding day will be a testament to the bonds we've formed at U.A."

As the planning continued, the students of Class 1-A took on various tasks, each contributing their own unique talents. Momo Yaoyorozu lent her keen eye for design, crafting elegant decorations, while Katsuki Bakugo tackled the task of organizing the explosive wedding fireworks.

Days turned into weeks, and the wedding day drew closer. The dorms became a flurry of activity as Class 1-A dedicated themselves to ensuring every detail was perfect.

On the day of the wedding, the air buzzed with anticipation and joy. The U.A. High School campus was adorned with flowers, and the chapel stood as a symbol of love and unity. Class 1-A stood proudly as witnesses and supporters, their hearts filled with love for their dear friends.

As the ceremony commenced, (Y/N) walked down the aisle, her radiant smile capturing Tenya's heart once more. Tenya stood at the altar, his eyes fixed on (Y/N) as she made her way towards him. Their love shone brightly, a beacon of hope and devotion.

The vows they exchanged were heartfelt and sincere, evoking tears of joy from the gathered friends and family. The couple sealed their union with a kiss, their love celebrated by the cheers and applause of those around them.

As the reception unfolded, the students of Class 1-A reveled in the joyous atmosphere. They danced, laughed, and shared heartfelt moments with one another. The bond they had forged over the years had only grown stronger, and the celebration of Tenya and (Y/N)'s love served as a reminder of the power of friendship and unwavering support.

Amidst the festivities, Tenya and (Y/N) took a moment to steal away, finding solace in each other's arms. They looked out at their friends, their family, and their journey at U.A. High School, overwhelmed with gratitude for the love that surrounded them.

Tenya's voice held a mix of emotion as he whispered, "Thank you, (Y/N). Our love has overcome challenges and surpassed expectations. I am forever grateful for your unwavering support."

(Y/N) smiled, her gaze filled with love and tenderness. "And I, Tenya, am forever grateful for your dedication and the love we share. Our journey has been a testament to the power of love and the strength of our bond."

And so, within the halls of U.A. High School, a love story unfolded, entwined with friendship and support. Class 1-A celebrated the eternal bond between Tenya and (Y/N), a testament to the enduring power of love and the beauty of shared dreams.

As they danced the night away, the students of Class 1-A reveled in the joy of their friends' happiness, knowing that love, unity, and the bonds they had forged at U.A. would forever shape their lives as heroes.

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mbruben-stein · 1 month

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hey so how do you think 2012 boys would deal with having a human s/o who gets mutated and they start beating everybody up who comes near them but when their boyfriend comes near them, they tackle their boyfriend and just cuddle on top of them and sleep? It’s like in their basic instincts, they still really like their boyfriend even if they’re not humanly sane at the moment.

TMNT boys with a human s/o who got mutated.

Leo:

S/o's Mutated form: cat.

Leo would be initially shocked and concerned when his human significant other is mutated into a cat mutant and starts attacking anyone who comes near them. He would feel a sense of helplessness as he watches the person he cares about turn into a feral creature. However, when his s/o tackles him and cuddles on top of him, Leo would feel a sense of relief and warmth knowing that despite their transformation, their feelings for each other remain unchanged.

Leo would gently stroke their fur and whisper soothing words to them, trying to calm them down and reassure them that everything is okay. He would understand that in their current state, they are acting purely on instinct and that their affection towards him is genuine. Leo would hold them close, feeling grateful that even in their mutated form, they still seek comfort and safety in his presence.

As they eventually drift off to sleep, Leo would stay awake, keeping a watchful eye over his s/o and making sure they are safe and comfortable. He would reflect on the strength of their bond and the unconditional love they share, knowing that no matter what challenges they may face, they will always have each other.

Leo would be determined to find a way to reverse the mutation and restore his s/o to their human form, but in the meantime, he would cherish these moments of intimacy and connection, grateful for the love that transcends physical appearances.

Raph:

S/o's Mutated form: wolf.

Raph would be initially shocked and worried when his human s/o gets mutated into a wolf mutant and starts attacking everyone around them. His protective instincts would kick in as he tries to find a way to calm them down and keep them safe. When he finally approaches them, expecting to be tackled like everyone else, he is surprised when they instead tackle him and cuddle on top of him.

Despite their animalistic instincts taking over, Raph can see in their eyes that they still recognize and trust him. He would gently stroke their fur, soothing them with his touch and calming them down. As they fall asleep on top of him, Raph would hold them close, feeling a rush of emotions as he realizes just how much they still care for him even in their mutated state.

In that moment, Raph's fierce loyalty and love for his s/o would shine through as he vows to do whatever it takes to help them return to their human form. He would stay by their side, protecting them and providing comfort until they can find a way to reverse the mutation. And even in their animal form, Raph would continue to show his affection and care for them, proving that his love knows no bounds.

Donnie:

S/o's Mutated form: Fox.

Donnie would be both terrified and heartbroken to see his human significant other mutated into a fox mutant. He would feel guilty for not being able to protect them and would be determined to find a way to reverse the mutation. Seeing his s/o attacking others would break his heart, but when they tackle him and cuddle on top of him, he would feel a sense of relief and warmth.

Despite their animal instincts taking over, Donnie would see that their love for him is still strong and unwavering. He would hold them close, gently stroking their fur and whispering comforting words to them as they fall asleep in his arms. In that moment, he would feel a deep connection with them, knowing that no matter what form they take, their love for each other remains unchanged.

Donnie would spend countless hours researching and experimenting, trying to find a cure for his s/o's mutation. He would not give up hope, determined to bring them back to their human form so they can live a normal life together. In the meantime, he would continue to care for and protect them, cherishing every moment they spend together, even if it's in their mutated state.

Through this experience, Donnie would learn the true meaning of unconditional love and loyalty. He would do whatever it takes to ensure the happiness and safety of his s/o, no matter what challenges they may face. And in the end, their bond would only grow stronger, proving that love knows no bounds, not even when faced with a mutant transformation.

Mikey:

S/o's Mutated form: polar bear.

Mikey would be initially shocked and scared when his human significant other is mutated into a polar bear mutant. He would feel a mixture of emotions, including fear for their safety and sadness for the loss of their human form. However, as he sees his s/o start to attack anyone who comes near them, he would realize that they are still drawn to him in their mutated state.

Despite the danger and chaos surrounding them, Mikey would approach his mutated s/o with caution and care. As they tackle him and cuddle on top of him, he would feel a sense of relief and comfort knowing that even in their altered state, they still have a deep connection with him.

Mikey would gently stroke their fur and whisper soothing words to them, trying to calm them down and reassure them that everything will be okay. As they fall asleep on top of him, he would hold them close, feeling a sense of protectiveness and love for his mutated s/o.

Throughout the ordeal, Mikey would show his loyalty and dedication to his s/o, proving that his love for them transcends their physical appearance and circumstances. He would continue to support and care for them, no matter what challenges they may face as a mutant polar bear.

#tmnt 2012 raphael #tmnt 2012 leo #tmnt headcanons #tmnt 2012 #tmnt donnie #tmnt 2012 Mikey #tmnt 2012 donnie #x reader #headcanons #mikey x reader #leo x reader #raph x reader #donnie x reader

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nayziiz · 3 months

Text

No Way | LN4

Summary: Lando Norris, an F1 driver for McLaren Racing, faces persistent attention on his single status. In an attempt to appease fans and quell rumours, his management suggests a fake relationship with a popular Portuguese model. However, Lando's PR manager, Natalie, disagrees, believing fans would see through the ploy. As an alternative, Lando's management notices the genuine bond between him and Natalie and proposes they feign a relationship for authenticity. Initially hesitant, they agree, given their existing friendship and professional connection. The fake relationship takes an unexpected turn as Lando and Natalie grapple with burgeoning real feelings, attempting unsuccessfully to conceal their growing emotions.

Pairing: Lando Norris x Original Character (Natalie)

Warnings: Mentions of physical and emotional abuse

Masterlist

CHAPTER 1

As the new F1 season begins, a wave of anticipation and excitement envelops both Natalie and Lando. For Lando, the racetrack is not just a place to showcase his driving prowess; it's a canvas where he paints his aspirations of success. The aspiration to perform consistently, stand atop the podium, and clinch victories symbolises his hunger for glory. This season represents a pivotal moment in his career, a chance to transcend from promising talent to a formidable force in Formula 1.

Lando's focus on consistent performance indicates a strategic approach to the season. He understands the importance of not just individual brilliance but also the need for a sustained effort across races. The podium is not merely a physical platform; it's a symbol of accomplishment and recognition. Standing there signifies that Lando has not only met but exceeded expectations. Each race becomes an opportunity for him to etch his name in the history of McLaren and Formula 1.

Meanwhile, for Natalie, the new season brings its own set of challenges and goals. Her role as Lando's PR Manager is not just about managing media interactions and public relations; it's about crafting and enhancing Lando's image both on and off the track. The challenge lies in maintaining a delicate balance between showcasing Lando's personality and ensuring a positive public perception.

However, Natalie's ambitions reach beyond the immediate season. She envisions herself as more than just a PR Manager; her goal is to ascend to the position of managing the entire McLaren F1 team. This aspiration reflects not only her confidence in her abilities but also her commitment to the long-term success of the team. Solidifying her role with Lando is a stepping stone toward greater responsibilities within the McLaren organisation.

“I haven’t seen Lucas around. Is he still coming to watch the race?” Lando innocently asks Natalie as they sit in his driver’s room with Lando signing caps and other McLaren merchandise.

“I doubt it.” Natalie responds, avoiding eye contact.

“Oh. How come?” Lando asks, confused.

“We broke up.” Natalie informs him as she hands him the next batch of caps to sign.

“When did that happen? He didn’t mention anything to me.” Lando continues to pry.

“After Christmas.” Natalie bluntly answers.

Lando's signature hand pauses mid-air as he processes Natalie's revelation. The room, once filled with the mechanical hum of the race cars outside, now echoes with the weight of unexpected news. His innocent inquiry unravels a personal chapter that Natalie had kept tightly closed for months.

The dynamics between Lando and Lucas had always been a delicate balance, their interactions shaped by a shared connection with Natalie. While Lando and Lucas managed to find common ground and form a semblance of friendship, the undercurrent of tension remained, fueled by Lando's observations of how Lucas treated Natalie during her first season with McLaren the year prior.

Natalie had been the bridge between the two, her professional role demanding a level of collaboration between her boyfriend and the driver she worked with. Lando, appreciating the importance of maintaining a harmonious team atmosphere, tried to put aside his personal reservations for the sake of professionalism. However, it wasn't easy for him to look past Lucas's treatment of Natalie.

Lando, inherently protective of those close to him, struggled to like Lucas when he witnessed moments of disrespect or insensitivity toward Natalie. It wasn't just about professional courtesy; it was a matter of personal values. Lando valued the people around him, especially those who supported him in various capacities, and seeing someone mistreat Natalie sparked a sense of loyalty and concern.

In those moments, Lando found himself grappling with the conflict between friendship and principle. While he maintained a civil demeanour and tried to foster a positive atmosphere with Lucas, there were times when he couldn't suppress his disapproval of Lucas's behaviour. The struggle to balance his personal feelings with the need for a cohesive team dynamic presented an ongoing challenge for Lando.

Natalie, caught in the middle, appreciated Lando's support but also urged him to prioritise the professional environment. She understood the complexities of the situation and attempted to keep the personal and professional spheres separate. However, the tension lingered, adding an additional layer of complexity to the dynamics within the McLaren team.

“Oh, I'm sorry to hear that.” Lando says, the tone of his voice now tinged with concern. He couldn't help but feel a sense of awkwardness settling in the room. The merchandise, once a simple part of race day preparations, now carries an unexpected emotional weight.

Natalie maintains her focus on the merchandise, her eyes fixed on the caps as she avoids direct eye contact with Lando. The revelation casts a subtle shadow over the room, and she is determined to carry on with their professional tasks, steering clear of the personal. Lando, however, can't let it go

“After Christmas? Why didn't you tell me?” Lando asks, a mix of confusion and curiosity etched on his face.

“Honestly, I was just trying to keep my head above water.” Natalie confesses, her eyes revealing a mix of vulnerability and resilience. She takes a deep breath, gathering her thoughts before continuing. "Remember, we dated before I moved to the UK. We lived together, so I had to get my own place and move all my stuff."

Lucas, her high school sweetheart, had been her anchor for six years. Their journey had taken them from South Africa to the UK, where Natalie pursued her studies and Lucas secured a job opportunity in London. He was more than just a partner; he represented home, stability, and a significant chapter of her life.

Despite the duration of their relationship and the shared history, Natalie found herself in a place of grief. The breakup marked the end of a long-standing connection, and the process of disentangling their lives proved to be a challenging and emotional endeavour. Lucas had been her constant, her support system, even if it came at a cost.

Lucas's treatment toward Natalie painted a stark contrast to the nostalgia that might have lingered in her heart. The emotional toll of being screamed at, called names, and enduring his disdain for her job added a layer of complexity to the grieving process. Despite the toxicity, the familiarity of their history made it difficult for Natalie to sever those emotional ties completely.

Lando, now privy to the depths of Natalie's experience, feels a surge of empathy and concern. He realises that her grief wasn't solely about the end of a romantic relationship but also the dismantling of a life she had built with someone who, at one point, had been her everything.

Lucas merely befriended Lando with ulterior motives as to ensure nothing would ever foster emotionally between Lando and Natalie because of their close working relationship. Lando, who had tried to maintain a friendship despite his reservations about Lucas's treatment of Natalie, now grapples with a newfound understanding of the underlying dynamics.

“You should have told me, then I could have helped you.” Lando mumbles, his eyes convey a mixture of regret and genuine concern .

“Shoulda, woulda, coulda, huh?” Natalie, ever resilient, responds with a subtle smile.

“Nattie, seriously. Are you OK?” Lando genuinely asks, his voice reflecting a sincerity that transcends their professional relationship.

“I’m better now.” Natalie assures him, her small smile carrying a hint of gratitude.

The acknowledgment of Lando's concern created a bridge between them, a reminder that beyond the race strategies and public relations duties, they were individuals navigating the complexities of life.

Lando's soft spot for Natalie had been evident from the very beginning, stretching back to her first day at the McLaren Technology Centre over a year ago. There was something about her kindness, dedication, and unwavering support that resonated with him. As they travelled the globe together for races, a bond formed, rooted in mutual respect and trust.

The introduction to Lucas after the first race of the previous season brought about a different dynamic. Lando, despite his efforts to maintain harmony, couldn't comprehend the connection between Natalie and Lucas. They seemed like polar opposites, and Lucas's penchant for criticising Natalie's work only deepened Lando's reservations.

Despite his disapproval, Lando tried to bridge the gap by inviting Lucas out, attempting to understand the dynamics of their relationship. However, in those moments, he couldn't shake the feeling that Natalie deserved better. Lucas's possessive and objectifying attitude towards Natalie grated on Lando's sensibilities, making him acutely aware of the stark difference in how they viewed and treated her.

Lando grappled with the discomfort of witnessing someone he considered a friend be treated in such a way. The distaste for Lucas's disrespectful remarks and possessive demeanour fueled an internal conflict, as Lando navigated the fine line between maintaining professional courtesy and expressing his concern for Natalie.

Despite his observations, Lando refrained from explicitly sharing his thoughts with Natalie. He respected her independence and knew she was capable of making her own decisions. Yet, he held onto the hope that she would see Lucas for who he truly was - and she finally did. The news of Natalie ending things with Lucas brought a sense of relief to Lando. He felt genuinely happy for her, recognizing that she could now move forward with her life unburdened by a toxic relationship.

“Anyway, enough about me” Natalie states, her tone lightening. “Did a special lady pop up since I last saw you?”

“Nope. Still just me, myself, and I.” Lando chuckles in response, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

“The fans are going to have a field day knowing you're still single.” Natalie playfully adds.

“I'm happy to be single until I find someone who ticks all the boxes.” Lando, unbothered, responds with a confident grin.

Lando reassuringly squeezes Natalie’s shoulder before he hurries off to speak with his race engineer. Natalie takes a seat behind the screens and pops on a headset as she watches replays of qualifying the day before. The ambient sounds of the garage, a mix of distant engine roars and muffled conversations, create a dynamic backdrop to the focused atmosphere.

With the headset snugly in place, Natalie's attention sharpens on the screens in front of her. The glow illuminates her face as she immerses herself in the detailed analysis of the team's performance during the qualifying session. The occasional chatter over the headset and the intermittent sounds of tools and equipment being handled blend into a rhythmic symphony, underscoring the team's preparation for the imminent race.

- AFTER THE RACE -

“Congratulations, Lando, on a great race today. What does this mean for the rest of the season?” The enthusiastic interviewer asks Lando.

“Appreciate it. Big shoutout to the McLaren crew for their grind during the winter break, putting together a solid car. We're still getting the hang of the new machine, but snagging second and fourth at the season kick-off is a promising start. Looking forward to unleashing this beast on the other tracks.” Lando explains, sweat dripping down his brow from the hot race he had just completed.

“You seemed to have a busy winter break. What, or who, do you think helped get you into a positive mindset coming into this season?” The interviewer continues.

“Honestly, just spending time with my family and friends was a great reminder to remain humble and appreciate the small moments in life. I lost my granddad over the winter break, so that kind of put things into perspective for me.” Lando answers, wiping away the sweat with a towel.

“And, no lucky lady to celebrate your P2 tonight?” The interviewer chuckles.

Natalie's gaze lifts to the interviewer, registering the conspicuous absence of sympathy in their response to Lando's revelation. The weight of the loss he had shared seemed to hang in the air, untouched by the expected words of condolence or empathy. Unsettled by the apparent oversight, Natalie decides to intervene, steering the conversation in a more considerate direction.

“That’s all we have time for, thank you.” Natalie declares - her tone firm - as she guides Lando away from the glaring cameras and back into the welcoming confines of the hospitality building. Lando, still processing the insensitive turn of the interview, quickened his pace to keep up with Natalie through the hallways. “Absolutely crass.”

“What’s that?” Lando questions, his eyebrows furrowing in a mix of confusion and frustration.

“I sometimes forget how classless the media can be. Seriously, you disclose the fact that you lost your grandfather and she makes no effort to express her sympathy.” Natalie explains, her voice tinged with a blend of disappointment and protective concern for her driver.

The weight of recent events hung heavy on Natalie's heart as she made the journey to the UK to attend Lando's grandfather's funeral. Mere days after her breakup with Lucas, her own heartbreak was set aside as she prioritised being there for Lando and offering support to him and his grieving family. The bond with Lando's family had grown strong since she joined McLaren, with invitations to holiday events making her feel like an extended member of their close-knit circle.

Lando's family had always gone above and beyond to include her in their gatherings. The previous Easter weekend, when she couldn't travel back to South Africa to be with her own family, they had made her feel welcomed and loved. These gestures had forged a sense of belonging, making Lando's family an integral part of her life.

Sitting in the back of the church during the funeral, Natalie observed the waves of grief that swept over Lando and his family. Tears and sobs echoed in the sombre atmosphere as they mourned the loss of their beloved family member. Natalie, despite her own struggles and heartache, focused on providing the support that Lando and his family needed during this difficult time.

It was precisely the depth of this loss that left Natalie annoyed by the subsequent interviewer's callousness. The media had no idea how profoundly the death had rocked Lando's family, and their lack of empathy struck a nerve with Natalie. The disconnect between the public facade and the private grief was a stark reminder of the challenges faced by individuals in the public eye, and Natalie, protective of those she cared about, found herself grappling with a mix of emotions as she navigated the intricate tapestry of personal and professional relationships within the McLaren family.

“Hey, it’s OK.” Lando offers, attempting to console Natalie. “Like I said to her, it puts things in a different perspective.”

Natalie glances at Lando over her shoulder, and a sense of relief washes over her. His calm demeanour and understanding response reassure her. He doesn't seem upset by the insensitive question or the lack of empathy from the interviewer, giving Natalie a cue to let go of her annoyance. Natalie takes a deep breath, appreciating the support from Lando and the acknowledgment that some things are beyond their control.

- THAT NIGHT -

“It’s been a stellar start to the year and we’re looking forward to seeing where Lando and Oscar take McLaren this year. Here’s to a brilliant season.” Zak Brown declares with a smile as he raises his champagne flute for a toast at the McLaren start-of-the-season dinner.

The long table is filled with the McLaren team, a diverse group ranging from mechanics to engineers to marketing officials. Zak's words resonate, creating a moment of shared excitement and anticipation for the upcoming season. After the toast, the team engages in lively conversation and indulges in the dinner spread.

Seated between the two drivers, Natalie finds herself immersed in a discussion about a specific corner at the Bahrain Grand Prix, a topic that unites the trio. Lando, with a casual ease, rests his arm on the back of Natalie's chair as he leans over to chat with Oscar. Natalie, sitting back, feels a sense of relaxation and peace. It's a stark contrast to the weeks of turmoil since her relationship ended. In the midst of her team, surrounded by people who share her passion for racing, Natalie rediscovers a familiar sense of joy and camaraderie.

“It was smooth. I don’t think I’ve taken that corner that well before.” Lando adds with a grin as he engages in conversation with his teammate.

Their camaraderie, evolving from being teammates to friends, is evident in their banter. The second season together has brought about a deeper understanding, and the shared experiences on the track have solidified their connection.

“Compared to DNFing last year, this was by far one of my favourite races yet.” Oscar comments, his enthusiasm evident in his words. However, before the conversation can delve deeper, he gets distracted by someone to his left, leaving the statement hanging in the air.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight.” Lando observes, his light nudge to Natalie's ribs coaxing a small smile from her.

“Just taking everything in. I missed this.” She explains, her gaze wandering across the lively scene around them.

“I suppose it helps not having someone constantly messaging you to find out what you’re doing.” Lando comments before realising the weight of his words.

“There is that too.” Natalie agrees, her chuckle carrying a hint of relief.

“I know it must be difficult, but I’m just glad you’ll be able to enjoy your life without feeling guilty.” Lando tells her, his eyes meeting hers. With a subtle gesture, he removes his arm from the back of her chair, proceeding to savour his dessert.

He had found her crying in the paddock one too many times last season to not be relieved about her leaving Lucas. Lando had been an inadvertent witness to the toll their relationship was taking on Natalie's mental health and self-esteem. He had seen the tears, heard the phone calls, and been privy to the distressing text messages. It was evident that the relationship had become a source of emotional strain and turmoil for her.

For Lando, seeing Natalie break free from the shackles of that tumultuous relationship was a cause for genuine happiness. He knew she deserved to live her life peacefully and without the heavy burden of regrets. The bond they shared within the McLaren family went beyond the racetrack; it extended into the realm of personal well-being. Lando, having witnessed Natalie's struggles, felt a profound sense of relief knowing that she could now move forward and find the tranquillity and happiness she deserved.

“And, for what it’s worth, you seem happier.” Lando adds, his genuine concern and care evident as he spoons a mouthful of Tiramisu into his mouth.

Natalie smiles in response, savouring a bite of her lemon cheesecake. The bond between her and Lando had been instantaneous when she started working for McLaren. Circumstances dictated their closeness as they spent more time together than with their own friends or family. Lando's visits home to his parents often included Natalie, who had no family or friends in the UK or Monaco until Lucas moved to the UK.

A shift occurred when Lucas moved to London, becoming a more constant presence in Natalie's life. She moved in with him, and the dynamic with Lando changed. Lucas's insecurity cast a shadow over her friendship with Lando, even though it was an integral part of her professional responsibilities to be by his side at races and media appearances. The relationship became stifling, with Lucas questioning Natalie's every move and decision. Lando, recognizing the toxicity of the situation, did his best to support Natalie and mitigate the escalating tensions.

“My parents are going to be in Jeddah next weekend. They’ve been dying to see you.” Lando tells Natalie.

“I’ve missed them so much.” Natalie admits with a genuine smile, the warmth of her emotions evident. “And, your sisters, of course.”

“They’re coming as well.” Lando adds, causing her smile to grow even bigger. The anticipation of reuniting with familiar faces, especially those who have become a second family to her, adds an extra layer of joy to the upcoming weekend.

As Lando and Natalie stepped out of the restaurant, the crisp night air greeted them, providing a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the dinner venue. The decision to walk back to the hotel seemed like a natural extension of the camaraderie they shared, and the short distance only added to the appeal.

The city's evening lights painted a picturesque scene around them as they strolled along the illuminated streets. The ambient sounds of the city, a harmonious blend of distant traffic hums and the occasional laughter from nearby cafes, created a tranquil backdrop for their conversation.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what was the final straw?” Lando bluntly asks her.

“What do you mean?” Natalie asks, confused.

“What made you finally break up with him?” He clarifies.

“It was a series of things that happened leading up to Christmas. We obviously went home to celebrate Christmas with our families back home. I got him this stunning watch he had been raving over for months, gave it to him and he was so uninterested in it. I mean, I get it, tastes fade, but I spent quite a bit of money on it and he was so unappreciative of it. And, he literally gifted me a notebook set that he must have bought the day before, no thought whatsoever.” Natalie starts. “Then as we got back to the guesthouse after dinner, he started complaining that I spent all day on my phone and demanded to see who I was texting. So, I gave him my phone and, honestly, I still don’t quite know what he saw, but he threw my phone against the wall and it broke, obviously.”

“So, he was getting physically aggressive?” Lando asks.

“Very much. When I asked him why he threw my phone, he went on this tirade about how he knew I was cheating on him, blah, blah, blah, and before I knew it, I was shoved into a door. Bruised my arm pretty badly. And, that was it. I don’t think I ever felt that disgusted in my life. I took my stuff, drove back to my Mom’s and booked a flight back. Luckily I had a spare phone. And, when I got back to London, I started packing my stuff and then you let me know about your granddad, then I was on my way to you.” Natalie elaborates.

“I had no idea things got so out of hand.” Lando mutters as they continue to stroll at a leisurely pace towards the hotel.

“I should have ended things far sooner looking back.” Natalie comments as she shoves her hands into her jacket’s pockets.

The two continue to walk in silence, the weight of Natalie's revelation hanging in the air. Deep down, Lando's blood boils with a mixture of anger and frustration. The idea that Natalie had endured such emotional and physical trauma at the hands of someone who claimed to love her fills him with a sense of indignation.

As they navigate the quiet streets, the rhythmic sound of their footsteps is punctuated by the heavy thoughts that occupy their minds. Lando, usually so composed, finds himself grappling with the harsh reality of Natalie's experiences.

“Just know that I’m here no matter what. If he even tries to contact you or anything, you let me know.” Lando blurts out.

“Thank you.” Natalie shyly agrees as he pulls her under his arm.

In that moment, their protectiveness for each other takes on a new level. The unspoken understanding between them solidifies into a spoken promise of support and vigilance. Lando's words carry a weight of sincerity, a commitment to stand by Natalie's side through whatever challenges may arise.

Their bond, forged through shared experiences and a genuine friendship, becomes a fortress against the trials of life. They have each other's backs, ready to go to battle if it means preserving the other’s sanity. The unyielding loyalty they share is a testament to the strength of their connection.

They make a formidable team, and in each other's company, they find solace, strength, and a profound understanding that transcends the confines of their roles within McLaren.

#f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fic #lando norris smut #mclaren #mclaren f1 #lando norris x oc

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tawaifeddiediaz · 1 year

Photo

BUCK & EDDIE + urdu words for love

(for @bieddiediaz 💖💘)

(image description below the cut)

[Image ID: nine gifs of Eddie Diaz and Evan Buckley from 9-1-1. All gifs are in black and white. In the middle is colorful Urdu text with the word for love. On top of that is the transliterated, Romanized Urdu in sweeping text. Below the Urdu word is a sentence to describe the type of love in between two backward slashes:

GIF 1: Two gifs transitioning: Buck tugging Eddie into his side, shaking him playfully in 2.14; Buck and Eddie looking at each other before Buck looks away with a wide smile in 4.12. The pink text reads, "Pyaar" in Urdu, with the transliteration above it. The description reads, "a love for the beginnings"

GIF 2: Four gifs transitioning: Buck's gaze finding Eddie in 5.01; Eddie smiling knowingly at Buck in 5.01; from 6x01, Buck watching Eddie over the kitchen table, looking knowingly at him; Eddie looking up at Buck venting with a fond smile, his eyebrows lifting. The red text reads, "Mohabbat" in Urdu, with the transliteration above it. The description reads, "a love to connect the souls"

GIF 3: Two gifs transitioning: Buck digging frantically through the mud where the crane collapses on top of Eddie in 3.15; Eddie's eyes widening as he takes in the blood splattered on Buck in 4.14, before he asks if he's hurt. The orange text reads, "Deewangi" in Urdu, with the transliteration above it. The description reads, "a love that transcends madness."

GIF 4: Two gifs transitioning: Eddie tilting his head as he validates Buck's feels in 4.04; Buck asking Eddie if it's enough for Christopher to love the person he's dating in 5.02. The yellow text reads, "Yaari" in Urdu, with the transliteration above it. The description reads, "a love that blooms from friendship."

GIF 5: Two gifs transitioning: Buck looking at Eddie with a shy smile as he tells Eddie that it's a miracle in 2.14; Eddie smiling fondly behind Buck as the other man relishes the chance to pull out the chainsaw in 6.01, looking away as his grin widens. The green text reads, "Chahat" in Urdu, with the transliteration above it. The description reads, "a desire, a pining for another soul."

GIF 6: Four gifs transitioning: From 2.04, Buck telling Eddie how Carla can help with Christopher, then Eddie giving him a grateful smile; From 4.03, Buck looking up at Eddie as Chris asks to go to his house to play video games, and Eddie crossing his arms as he gives Buck an expectant look. The blue text reads, "Aashiqui" in Urdu, with the transliteration above it. The description reads, "a love to fall in, to never stop falling."

GIF 7: Two gifs transitioning: Buck and Eddie hugging in 3.06; Buck strutting towards Eddie with his hand on his belt in 3.09. The blue-purple text reads, "Junoon" in Urdu, with the transliteration above it. The description reads, "a love that dissolves into a passion like none other."

GIF 8: Two gifs transitioning: From 4.14, Buck looking up at Eddie with an innocent, unsure expression, and Eddie telling him that he'll be Christopher's legal guardian. The purple text reads, "Ishq" in Urdu, with the transliteration above it. The description reads, "a love that surpasses this life and the next."

GIF 9: Two gifs transitioning: Buck and Eddie hugging at Eddie's probation ceremony in 2.18; Buck and Eddie hugging at Buck's welcome back party in 3.01, grinning widely. The brown text reads, "Dil-Lagi" in Urdu, with the transliteration above it. The description reads, "a love for the heart to attach to another."

/end ID]

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samanthamulder · 1 year

Text

director Rob Bowman on the hallway scene in The X-Files: Fight the Future (1999 DVD audio commentary) — “ 'I need you, I need you.' That’s a theme of the movie – Mulder needs Scully. And never before has he come to that understanding quite so strongly as he does in this story. So she’s running because she’s afraid that he’s going to talk her out of it, and so the best thing she can do is hit the elevator button and go, go, go. She never makes it. That’s her first mistake.

And Mulder also knows that that’s where she’s headed, is out the door. So he’s got to tell her why it is that she’s so important to him, and tell her once and for all that in fact the whole time that the two of them have been together that she has made him better, that she has made him feel not like an outcast, not like discarded FBI trash, but somebody worthy of her friendship, and that, as he says, has made him a whole person. So in a scene filled with such virtue, people expressing their highest thoughts and feelings towards each other, you come to a sort of pinnacle of respect and mutual admiration that it leads to an intimate moment that neither of them expect, or were working towards. It just sort of happens. You just keep arguing and arguing, then suddenly it’s not an argument, it’s 'We’re for each other, we’re for each other.' And we come to the opportunity of the kiss for the first time. But it’s not out of lust, it’s not out of any of the obvious reasons, or typical reasons. It’s out of just absolute overwhelming respect for each other. Out of that respect becomes an emotional response, where you transcend logic and thinking and it becomes more visceral and human.

The only place for him to go, in my mind, to express the next thought is to kiss her. And how do we do that in The X-Files fashion? Which is, you never give them anything that they want. You just lead them down the road and say 'Ah, that��s all you get.' And then, because of the bee, the moment is abrupt and abbreviated and stops short of the zenith that the audience is wanting. But we don’t want to end by cheating the audience. We’d like to at least add up in parts a kiss. So there’s the idea, in the spaceship where Mulder is trying to rescue Scully, and just when they get to the vent exit, she collapses again, and she passes out and she’s not breathing. What do you do when somebody’s not breathing? You give them mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. So you’ve got the intention of the kiss and the physical act of them touching mouths. I believe in Chris’s mind the idea was you take those two, add ‘em together, that’s a kiss. Sort of in frustrating X-Files fashion that’s a kiss. And I think obviously there’s more gained for the audience out of the hallway kiss, and I don’t think anybody really walked out thinking, 'Well, they sort of did, because if you add the two together…' but it doesn’t matter because the idea is they were going to. As a story point, that counts as the kiss. They didn’t stop themselves, something else entered the scene and interrupted them, so…"

#''in frustrating x-files fashion'' do u hear me laughing? no? that's because I'm not #anyway. I do like what he says here tho <3 #about the moment creeping up on them unexpectedly. the respect for each other as the base of their love. they didn't stop themselves etc.#and in all honesty. 'you never give them what they want' IS the x files fashion. and that's why the scene works this way #'they' being mulder and scully. they don't get what they want (the truth) only little bits of it without real resolve. and #that's why it's good that they didn't truly kiss and I will die on that hill i guess sfkfjs #txf #fight the future #*

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 11 months

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Can I request a Abraham ff inspired by "meet me at the pale moonlight" by Lana del Rey? And maybe some angst cuz Abraham being mean

Hello! Apologies for making you wait for over two months for this. I hope it's to your liking.

Warnings: Angst, allusions to smut but nothing too spicy, mentions of infidelity. Word count: ~950

There’s a chill in the air that hasn’t been there all summer long, it makes her regret not bringing a coat out with her as her skin prickles with gooseflesh. She hadn’t realised Abraham would keep her waiting this long. She always seems to be waiting for him lately.

She shifts from foot to foot, anxiously picking at the red lacquer that coats her fingernails. The same shade of crimson she’d worn the night they’d met, when he’d flashed that cocky smirk of his her way and asked her if she wanted a drink.

That smirk is long gone now as he walks towards her, he seems more like a man being marched towards his execution.

“We haven’t got much time.” He tells her gently, stroking her hair away from her face.

She nods in understanding. He never has time anymore, not like he used to back when the evenings were still light and it was as balmy outside as it was inside. They’d spend hours laughing, talking about their hopes and dreams for the future, their hands tracing paths across each other’s flesh as though they were attempting to commit it to memory as they made love.

He takes her by the hand, leading her towards the barn and she allows her fingers to interlock with his, relishing the contact, giving herself a moment to pretend that he is hers.

“I wish I’d met you first.” He’d told her one night, resting his head upon her chest as they’d laid amongst the hay. She had expected to feel angry when he’d revealed he was engaged to be married, but she didn’t, not when he’d explained to her that it was Romani tradition for marriages to be arranged. He had no feelings for Luella, was just doing what was expected of him. There was an unspoken agreement between them that things would come to an end once he was finally wed, so she resigned herself to this being a summer fling and nothing more.

The feelings that linger between them, however, are more than apparent as he presses his lips to hers, slow and unhurried. There is an overwhelming sense in her heart and mind that he is kissing her like this is the final time he’ll ever get to. She is surprised when he takes the time to carefully lay her down and undress her. A lump forms in her throat as his hands caress her curves, slowly and purposefully. He is committing her to memory.

Alhough he doesn’t care for Luella, his marriage to her is one of great importance to his people. His social standing within the Romani community is hinged upon this union, and so he cannot risk it. Bitter though it is, she accepts it. It is clear to her, though he has never said it, that someone from his camp suspects something. For the past few weeks he has been late to each of their meet ups, their trysts have been hurried fucks against the wall before he has to rush back again.

Not tonight. Tonight Abraham’s blue eyes lock with hers, his gaze soft and filled with adoration as he thrusts languidly into her. She clings tightly to him, basking in the sensation while it is still hers to experience.

He had almost let the words slip once. They had been seeing each other for around a month and he'd gotten carried away in the heat of the moment.

“I lo-” She pressed her fingers to his lips, silencing him.

“-don’t say that,” She’d said pleadingly. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

This particular moment feels as though it transcends those three little words, as their breaths intermingle and they hold each other close, memorising every soft moan and gentle roll of each other’s hips.

When they are both spent, they lay in each other’s arms and she despises the finality of it all, hating the way her eyes sting with unshed tears. She makes the mistake of looking up at Abraham and her heart clenches painfully as she notices the wetness rimming his own eyes, the plushness of his full lips pulled morosely downwards.

“This is the last time, isn’t it?” She whispers, once she finally finds the courage to speak as they begin to put their clothes back on.

“The wedding’s tomorrow,” He says solemnly. “We’re moving on the day after. I’m sorry.”

She’s always known this was coming, yet it does nothing to soften the blow. It’s as though all the air has left her lungs as she tries her best not to cry. There are a million things she wants to say, she could beg him not to marry Luella, to be with her instead, but what use is it? She cannot expect him to give up his community, his reputation, resign himself to a life that’s static, so she says nothing.

He cups her cheek, his palm warm and calloused against the softness of her face, and looks fondly down at her, though his eyes betray the same devastation she feels. “I really do wish I’d met you first.”

The words topple forth before she can stop them. “I lo-”

“-don’t say that,” He cuts her off. “I won’t be able to walk away if you say that, and I have to.”

She nods, the pain in her chest blooming acrid and heavy, and he kisses her, kisses her like it is the last kiss they’ll ever share, and this time it is.

She can still feel the way his lips move against hers as she watches him walk away and she wonders how long it will be until she no longer remembers what that’s like. It’s only then that she allows the tears to fall. Beneath the pale moonlight she mourns the end of summer and the end of a love that was simply never meant to be.

#abraham #grantchester #ewan mitchell #abraham smut #abraham grantchester #abraham x reader #abraham fanfiction #abraham fan fiction #abraham fan fic #abraham fanfic #grantchester fanfiction #grantchester fanfic #grantchester fan fiction #grantchester fan fic

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