#and you see this internal fight between these two things you came from and he fucking sacrifices himself for you

[imaginaryf1shots]

Red Line | CL - LH

WC: 5K

Charles Leclerc x reader, Lewis Hamilton x reader

Summery;(REQUESTED) You have had feelings for Charles for years, your best friend. When he fails to return your feelings and a new Ferrari driver joins the team, he shows you attention and care. It is less complicated.

Warning: angst?

AN: i debated who she should end up with, but he's my number 1 driver, and I'm WEAK for him.

Masterlist

You have been working at Scuderia Ferrari since 2018, you started as an intern under the engineering team, you quickly became a permanent engineer for Charles in 2019 and have continued to develop and grow as the time went on. Maybe it's because you joined the same year Charles did, or it's because you were one of his first engineers when he started working for the red team, but the two of you have grown so close to each other. You consider Charles to be one of the closest people to you, during work hours and out of work hours. You see each other a lot even in the off-season. Charles values your opinion and cares a lot about it, he also considers you one of his close friends. Whenever you’re in the paddock you're always close by, he can depend on you. He prides himself in knowing you, he knows your coffee order, your favourite food, your dreams and hopes, he knows it all.

The moment Charles joined the team, you just clicked, your connection instant and so effortless. You both don't have to overthink it... at the start at least.

On long days, feeling the effect of the jetlag, when you'd almost drop from how tired you are, Charles always brings you coffee for a boost. On days where you're both in Maranello, he'd always offers you a ride back to the small house you have in Italy, he always insists that it's on his way but both of you know that it wasn't. He's always been patient and calm, and that made him a good listener. On plane rides when only the two of you are awake he'd just happily sit down and listen to you vent, his patience seemingly endless.

Even the fans picked up on the bond between the two of you, some speculating you're a couple. Thankfully it wasn't a big thing or it would have affected your job, but every now and then you both get those kinds of comments. And maybe you just had the smallest hopes that you were an actual couple, those feelings you have slowly ate at you every day. You were in love with Charles, the intensity of your feelings scared you. You can never tell him what you're feeling with the fear of ruining the perfect balance of your friendship. And even though he treats you in a way a partner would on a lot of occasions, he acts completely oblivious to it, as if everything he does with you he does for everyone else.

On a late evening, as you looked over the latest numbers and data, Charles came seemingly out of nowhere with two cups of coffee in hand.

"Long night, huh?" He said, offering you the coffee, you smiled, grateful for his gesture.

"Thanks." You take a sip and sigh in content. "You always know when I need the caffeine boost."

Charles leans on the desk beside you and grins. "It's the perk of knowing you so well, how are my numbers?"

"Not good." You tease him, Charles leans over to see what you're looking at. "They're saying you're too nice."

Charles laughs and rolls his eyes. "I'll try to be less nice then, maybe I'll start with you."

"Come on now, I was just joking." You pout at him and he smiles.

"How long until you finish up?" Charles asks and you hum.

"Not long, I'm just finishing up." You tell him, and he nods but doesn't move.

"Do you need a ride?" Charles asks, his eyes not straying from you. "I'm heading out."

"You're staying on the other side of town." You raise an eyebrow, those words you say to him every time.

"It's no trouble, besides it's an excuse to spend more time with my favourite person on the team." Your heart skips a beat at his words and you can't fight the smile.

"Alright, I'll take you up on that."

Those kinds of things your mind wanders to, especially on those sleepless nights while you're lying in bed. Your mind always goes back to the little moments that you shared, the moments that got your heart to flutter, the lingering glances, the causal touches, and the shared laughter. You cherish those moments, holding them close to you like precious and delicate Chinas. But there was always doubt. Did he actually feel the same way? Will he ever feel the same way? Or are you just destined to always be his friend?

Your thoughts all came to a halt when the room buzzed, by the new arrival. The room was alight with anticipation as Lewis Hamilton walked in, his presence commanding attention. His move to Ferrari is sensational, the talk of the paddock all of last year. The move turned F1 upside down. Lewis greeted everyone with a practised charm, a smile on his face, he wanted to seem genuine, he wanted to not come across as a big headed driver and just to get to know everyone he works with, to create a harmonious and smooth working place. Lewis met everyone's gaze as he greeted them, but when his eyes met yours, something shifted.

"Hey there." Lewis said, approaching you with a smile. "You must be the genius behind these impressive numbers."

You laughed, feeling slightly flustered. "I'm not too sure about the genius part, but I try my best. Welcome to Ferrari, Lewis."

"Thanks, it's great to be here." Lewis said and looked around the room before his eyes settled back on you. "I've heard a lot about you, mind if I pick your brain a bit?"

"Not at all, what do you want to know?"

And so you and Lewis stood talking for a bit, before he was whisked away to continue his tour and meet the rest of the workers. But as his presence became permanent in the factory you found yourself spending a lot of time with him. He often sought you out and at first it was just to understand all the data and how the new car will function and he had ideas that he wanted to see if it could be implemented or not. Your conversations flowed easily, from the team, to the car to your role it all went and flowed easily. And you found yourself thinking more about Lewis and looking forward to your time together.

Lewis had a knack of lightening the mood and making everything seem so effortless. It's a trait that you appreciate. It was refreshing.

One afternoon, you were reviewing data together. Lewis leaned over your shoulder, his proximity causing you to lose focus for a moment.

"So what's the secret sauce here?" He asked his tone playful, it was as if he had no idea what he was doing, as if his proximity was not having any effect on you.

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a secret then, would it?" You laughed, nudging him lightly.

"Fair point, but come on, give me something." Lewis smiled at vou. "I promise I won't tell anyone.”

"Alright, alright." You said after rolling your eyes, your smile showed that you're actually okay with it. "It's all in optimising the balance between speed and control, especially in the corners. We've been finetuning it for months."

"See, now I'm learning something, you really are the genius everyone says you are." You blushed and shrugged, brushing off the compliment.

"It's a team effort."

"Yeah, but each team has its MVP." He said and his eyes locked with yours for a moment longer than necessary.

One dqy, you were in the garage with Charles, adjusting some settings to his car, when Lewis came a playful grin on his face.

"Hey, engineer extraordinaire, got a moment?" Lewis asked, his eyes filled with mischief.

"What's up, Lewis?" You looked up at him already amused.

"I've got a serious question for you, it's about strategy." Lewis leaned next to you, his eyes going to Charles with the playful look on his face. Charles watched the interaction with intrigue, he of course noticed how close you and Lewis became, but he never actually saw you interact.

"Go on."

"Pineapple on pizza, yes or no?" This was not what you expected at all, Charles was even surprised, but where you laughed he did not.

"Really? That's your serious question?"

"Absolutely, it's crucial information." He said laughing along with you.

"Well, if you must know, I'm a pro-pineapple." You shrugged, throwing your hands up. "Controversial, I know."

"I knew I loved you for a reason, you've got good taste." Lewis winked at you before he patted Charles's shoulder and left you back to what you were doing.

"That's it?" You asked after the older driver.

"Yeah." With a wave of his hand over his shoulder he was out of sight. You shook your head and went back to what you were doing before he came in with a smile on your face.

"Huh." Charles mutters frowning, things are changing, and it's making him feel some type of way, he has no idea what to feel about it.

As your relationship grew and your banter continued, you found yourself looking forward to these light-hearted moments. Lewis had a way of making the most mundane topics entertaining. He was effortlessly funny, and his humour was a refreshing change from the intense atmosphere of the garage.

One evening, after a particularly long day, you found yourselves alone in the garage. You were finishing up some data analysis when Lewis wandered over, two bottles of water in hand. You got dejavu, as your mind flashed to when Charles would get you coffee and drive you home whenever you had long days.

“Thought you might need this.” He said, handing you one.

“Thanks, Lewis, you’re a lifesaver.”

He took a seat next to her, watching her work. “You know, you’ve got this incredible focus. It’s impressive.”

You smiled, a little flustered by the compliment. “It’s part of the job.”

“Still, it’s something, I’ve been meaning to ask, how did you end up here? With Ferrari, I mean.”

You paused, considering how to condense years of passion and hard work into a few sentences. “I’ve always loved racing. Grew up watching it with my family. I studied engineering because I wanted to be part of this world, and Ferrari… well, it’s the dream, isn’t it?”

“It really is, and you’re amazing at what you do. The team’s lucky to have you.” Lewis nodded, genuinely believing his words.

“Thanks, Lewis. That means a lot.” You felt a blush creep up your cheeks.

As the days turned into weeks and the weeks turned to months, you noticed more about Lewis. His dedication to his craft, the way he treated everyone on the team with respect, and his infectious enthusiasm. He was different from what you had expected, and you found yourself drawn to him in ways you hadn’t anticipated.

There was a particular day that stood out. You had a meeting scheduled and as you waited for it to begin, you were both early. Lewis started telling a story about an adventure he had on a race weekend in Japan.

“So there I was, completely lost in Tokyo, and none of my apps were working. I couldn’t read the signs, and I was pretty sure I was going to end up on the news as the driver who went missing in the middle of a city. Then, out of nowhere, this old lady comes up to me and starts speaking perfect English, asking if I needed help. Turns out she used to live in London. She got me back to my hotel, and we still exchange Christmas cards.”

“Only you, Lewis. Only you.” You laughed, shaking your head.

“What can I say? Adventure finds me.” He said with a wink.

It was in these moments that you started to notice his attractiveness, not just physically, though he was undeniably handsome, but in the way he carried himself, the kindness in his eyes, and the warmth of his smile. He made you laugh, made you feel seen and appreciated. It was a stark contrast to the complicated, often unspoken dynamics you had with Charles.

As time went on the lines between her professional and personal life began to blur once more, but with a new Ferrari driver. You and Lewis continued to grow closer, your bond solidifying with each shared laugh and meaningful conversation. Yet, with each passing day, the tension between you and Charles grew more.

One morning, as you arrived at the garage, Charles was waiting for you, his usual easygoing demeanour replaced with a more serious expression. Something that you picked on instantly, you can read Charles easily.

“Hey.” He greeted, handing you a cup of your favourite coffee. “Got a minute?”

“Sure, thanks for the coffee” You replied, knowing that something big is about to drop. “What’s up?”

He led her to a quieter corner of the garage, away from the prying eyes and ears of your colleagues. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something. It’s... about Lewis.”

You sighed inwardly, bracing yourself. “What about him?”

“I’ve noticed you two have been spending a lot of time together.” Charles ran a hand through his hair, a habit you knew indicated he was stressed.

“Yes, we have. He’s new and has a lot of questions. We’ve become friends.” You nodded, keeping your voice steady.

“Friends?” Charles echoed, a hint of scepticism in his voice. “It seems like more than that.”

“Charles, we are friends.” You looked him in the eye, his stare was unwavering, you’ve never hidden anything from Charles, it wasn’t in your nature. You blinked a few times before you continued, your voice dropping a little. “I may have feelings for him and I’m pretty sure he feels the same.

His jaw tightened, and he looked away for a moment before speaking again. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt. He’s got a reputation, you know.”

“Lewis has been nothing but kind and respectful to me.” You countered. “I appreciate your concern, Charles, but I can handle this.”

“Alright. Just... be careful, okay?” He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly.

“I will.” You promised, feeling a mix of relief and guilt as you walked away.

That evening, after another successful session, Lewis invited you out for dinner. As you sat in a cosy restaurant, the conversation flowed easily, and you found yourself relaxing in his presence.

“You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind,” Lewis observed, his eyes searching your face.

“Just the usual stress of the job.” You smiled, waving him off. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Anything I can help with?” It takes you a moment to answer before you decide to confide in him,

“It’s Charles. He’s... concerned about us spending time together, he thinks I might get hurt.”

Lewis’s expression softened. “I understand where he’s coming from, but I want you to know, I’m serious about this. About us.”

“I know.” You said, reaching out to squeeze his hand, fighting the blush from forming on your cheeks. “I just need to figure out how to manage everything.”

Charles sat alone in his hotel room, the dim light casting long shadows on the walls. The conversation with you earlier played over and over in his mind. He had always thought your friendship was special, but seeing you with Lewis had stirred something deep within him, something he couldn’t ignore any longer.

His phone buzzed on the nightstand, a new message from you: “Thank you for understanding, Charles. It means a lot to me.”

He stared at the words, feeling a pang of longing and regret. How had he not seen it before? The way his heart quickened whenever you laughed, the comfort he felt in your presence, the jealousy that gnawed at him every time he saw you with Lewis, it all pointed to one undeniable truth. He was in love with you.

Memories flooded his mind: the late-night conversations, the shared glances across the garage, the way you always seemed to know what he needed without him having to ask. He had taken it all for granted, thinking it was simply the bond of close friendship. But now, faced with the reality of losing you to someone else, he realised just how much you meant to him.

Charles leaned back against the headboard, running a hand through his hair. How could he have been so blind? He had always been there for you, and you for him, but he had never allowed himself to consider the possibility of something more. Now, it seems, it might be too late.

On track after that, Charles found it hard to focus. His mind was clouded with thoughts of you, of what he needed to do. He watched you from a distance, your interactions with Lewis emphasising the urgency of his situation. He couldn’t stand by and watch you slip away without at least telling you how he felt. And from then on tension between him and Lewis started to mount.

One afternoon, as the team prepared for a crucial race weekend, the tension between Charles and Lewis came to a head. They were in the garage, going over the final preparations, when Charles finally voiced his frustration.

“Lewis, can we talk?” Charles asked, his tone clipped.

“Sure.” Lewis replied, sensing the underlying tension, and he had a pretty good idea why Charles wanted to talk to him.

They stepped outside, away from the hustle of the garage. Charles turned to face him, his eyes blazing. “What are your intentions with y/n?”

“My intentions? I care about her, Charles.” Lewis raised an eyebrow, taken aback by the directness. “Isn’t that obvious?”

“She means a lot to me.” Charles clenched his fists, struggling to keep his emotions in check. “I don’t want to see her hurt.”

“And you think I do?” Lewis shot back, his voice rising. “I’ve been nothing but honest with her. What about you, Charles? Have you told her how you feel?”

Charles was silent, the truth hanging heavily between them. He hadn’t, and now he feared it might be too late. It seemed that even Lewis knew about his feelings even before he did. Charles gave Lewis a nod and left him abruptly.

His feelings weren’t just affecting his relationship with you, and with Lewis but it started to be felt by the team as well, and it wouldn’t be long before the fans started to spot it as well.

Inside the garage, you could sense the growing tension between the two men. It was affecting the team’s morale, and you knew you had to do something. So you approached Charles.

“Charles, we need to talk.” You nodded to the side for him to follow her.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked once you stood in a quiet corner.

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. “This... thing between you and Lewis, it needs to stop. It’s affecting the team.”

“I know.” He admitted, his voice unsteady. “I just... I can’t stand the thought of losing you.”

“You’re not losing me,” You said gently, giving him one of your smiles that always calmed him down, but it seemed like it wasn’t working at this moment. “But you need to understand that I have feelings for Lewis. And I need you to respect that.”

“I’m trying. But it’s hard.” Charles looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of pain and longing.

“I know it is.” You replied, placing a hand on his arm and his heart skipped a beat. “But we’ll get through this. We always do, as friends.”

This sent a bang to his heart, how many times he’s called you a friend not knowing the effect it had on you, it seemed like now he knows.

”What?” You asked, seeing the look on his face. “You have something you want to tell me.”

”I-uh…” Charles trailed off, his confidence suddenly gone.

”Charles, just say it.”

Charles took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and there’s something I need to tell you. Something I should have said a long time ago, and maybe this is not the right time but I can’t hold it in any longer.”

“Okay. What is it?” Your heart started beating fast in your chest.

“I’m in love with you.” He blurted out, the words rushing out in a torrent of emotion. “I have been for a long time. I just... I didn’t realise it until now. Seeing you with Lewis made me see what I’ve been too afraid to acknowledge. I don’t want to lose you, not like this.”

“Charles... I...” Your eyes widened in shock and confusion, those words you’ve longed to hear for years, and here he is saying them to you, but… it’s a bit late. This just complicated everything.

“I know this is sudden,” He continued, his voice trembling slightly. “And I know you have feelings for Lewis. But I had to tell you. I couldn’t keep it to myself any longer. You mean everything to me, and I can’t stand the thought of not trying.”

You were silent for a long moment, your gaze dropping to the ground as you processed his words. When you finally looked up, your eyes were filled with a mix of sadness and uncertainty.

“Charles, I... I don’t know what to say.” You admitted. “This is a lot to take in. I care about you so much, but I also have feelings for Lewis. I’m- I'm just so confused right now.”

“I understand.” He said softly. “I’m not asking for an answer right now. I just needed you to know how I feel. Whatever you decide, I’ll respect it. But I couldn’t let you go without telling you the truth.”

“I need some time to figure this out.” Your emotions were everywhere and you couldn’t make sense of them.

“Take all the time you need.” He replied, his voice gentle. “I’ll be here, no matter what.”

As you walked away, Charles felt a strange sense of relief mingled with apprehension. He had laid his heart bare, and now the rest was up to you. All he could do was hope that, in the end, you would see that he was the one who truly loved her, that with all your shared memories spent together you’d choose him, and that it wasn’t too late.

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of the situation pressing down on you. Your mind is spinning, the weight of his confession pressing heavily on your heart. As much as you had longed to hear those words from him, the timing felt like a cruel twist of fate. You needed clarity, and the only person who could help you find it was Lewis.

So that evening, you went to Lewis’s hotel room. The city lights outside cast a warm glow, creating an intimate atmosphere. Lewis welcomed you in with a gentle smile, sensing the turmoil in your eyes.

“Hey.” He said softly, leading you to the sofa. “You look like you’ve had a rough day.”

You nodded, your emotions still raw from your earlier conversation with Charles. “I need to talk to you about something important.”

“What’s going on?” Lewis sat beside you, frowning.

“Charles confessed his feelings to me today.” You took a deep breath. “He told me he’s in love with me.”

“I see.” He knew about his feelings, but he didn’t think Charles actually had it in him to confess. “ And how do you feel about that?”

“It’s complicated.” You admitted, your voice trembling. “I’ve had feelings for Charles for a long time. I thought he only saw me as a friend, so I never said anything. But now...”

“I understand.” Lewis nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. “This must be really confusing for you.”

“It is.” Your voice barely above a whisper. “But the thing is, I’ve been waiting for Charles to notice me for years. And while I was waiting, I met you. You’ve been so kind, so genuine, and… I couldn’t help but start to have feelings for you.”

“I care about you a lot.” Lewis reached out, taking your hand in his. “More than I’ve cared about anyone in a long time. But I don’t want to be with you if your heart is somewhere else. You deserve to be happy, whatever that means for you.”

“I know. And that’s why I need to be honest with you.” Tears welled up in your eyes as you squeezed his hand, it’s all too much for you. “I’ve spent so much time waiting for Charles to return my feelings, and it’s cost me a lot of happiness. I don’t want to waste any more time. I want to give us a chance, Lewis. I want to see where this can go.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel pressured.” Lewis’s eyes softened with relief and warmth.

“I’m sure.” You nodded firmly, your decision made. “You’ve shown me what it feels like to be appreciated and cared for. I don’t want to let that go.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” He smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile that made your heart flutter. “I promise, I’ll do everything I can to make you happy.”

You sat in silence for a moment, the weight of your decision settling between you both. You felt a sense of peace, knowing you had made the right choice for yourself. The future was uncertain, but with Lewis by your side, you felt ready to face it.

After your talk with Lewis, and your decision being made, you were filled with a mix of excitement and apprehension. Being with Lewis felt right, it was easy and your bond just grew stronger every day. He made you laugh, supported your ambitions and treated you with a level of respect and affection, you hadn’t realised you were missing.

But your past with Charles still haunted you, you saw him every day for work and there was a subtle tension over you and it affected the team dynamic. Charles was professional, as always, but there was a distance and coldness to his demeanour that hadn’t been there before. It hurt you to see him struggling, but you knew you had made the right choice. For yourself.

After a race weekend, that was hard and gruelling on you and Lewis and the rest of the team, Lewis took you out to a quiet restaurant. The conversation was light and filled with laughter, a welcome respite from the pressure that is their work.

“Can you believe how many laps we ran today?” Lewis joked, shaking his head. “I thought my arms were going to fall off.”

You laughed, enjoying the ease of your banter. “I was beginning to think they’d made you a permanent fixture on the track.”

As you continued to talk, you felt a warmth spreading through your chest. This was what you had been missing—genuine connection, unburdened by years of unspoken feelings and what-ifs.

Meanwhile, back at the hotel, Charles sat alone in his room once more, he was staring at his phone. He had been avoiding you, unsure of how to navigate your new reality. The thought of you with Lewis was a constant ache in his heart, but he couldn’t deny that you seemed happier. Unable to bear the silence any longer, Charles decided to reach out. He typed out a message, his fingers hovering over the send button before finally pressing it.

Can we talk? I miss our friendship.

Your phone buzzed just as you and Lewis were finishing dessert. You glanced at the screen, your heart sinking slightly at the sight of Charles’s name. Lewis noticed your expression and raised an eyebrow.

“Everything okay?” he asked gently.

You nodded, showing him the message. “It’s from Charles. He wants to talk.”

“Do you want to go see him? It’s okay if you do.” Lewis took your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I think I should.” You said softly. “We need to clear the air.”

Later that evening, you found herself outside Charles’s hotel room, your heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and resolve. You knocked gently, and a moment later, the door opened to reveal Charles’s weary face.

“Hey,” he greeted, stepping aside to let you in.

“Hey.” You replied, taking a seat on the edge of the sofa. “You wanted to talk?”

“I did.” He nodded, closing the door and sitting opposite you. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what I said to you, and I realised I was being unfair. I shouldn’t have put you in that position.”

“Charles, it’s okay.” You said softly. “I’m glad you told me how you feel. But I also needed to be honest with myself. Waiting for you for so long, it was hard. And in that time, I found something real with Lewis.”

“I understand.” He looked down, his expression pained but accepting. “It just took me too long to see what was right in front of me. I don’t want to lose you as a friend, though. You mean too much to me.”

Your heart ached for him, for the years of missed opportunities and unspoken words.

“You won’t lose me, Charles. Our friendship is important to me too. It’ll take some time, but we can find a way to move forward.”

He nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I’d like that.”

And so the tension began to ease, it took time, but you and Charles found a new rhythm. Your friendship slowly mending as you navigated this new phase of thier relationship. Lewis was a constant source of support, his presence a steady anchor in the shifting tides of her emotions.

And so one race weekend, as the team prepared for another race, you found yourself standing between Lewis and Charles, the three of you chatting easily. There is a new understanding between you.

“Ready for this weekend?” Lewis asked, grinning at you.

You smiled, feeling a sense of contentment you hadn’t felt in a long time. “More than ever.”

Charles chimed in, his eyes warm with genuine affection. “We’ve got this.”

In that moment, surrounded by the people who meant the most to you, you knew you had made the right choices. Your relationships weren’t perfect but it was close to it. Most importantly you are happy.

Maintaglist:

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @mysticalpenguinarbiter

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[igotanidea]

Family rules: Damian Wayne x reader

Christmas bingo day 23 : midnight kiss

The first time she truly understood the meaning of the proverb heart over mind was on a school trip in September.

He was just standing by the wall, doing nothing except staring into space with those piercing green eyes.

Such pretty eyes

Such devilish, snake eyes.

Acting like he was who knows who.

Arrogant, cold, keeping his distant, rough, self-absorbed, not caring about anything or anyone.

Just like his father.

Damian Wayne.

***

Y/N had the misfortune of being born into a technological company family. Obviously she didn’t know it when she was a kid, but the word Wayne was inflected in her home on all occasions.

Wayne this, Wayne that...

 sort of spell or- more likely - a curse.

Damn it!

She was 12 when she gathered enough courage to ask her father what this was about. A mistake she only made once, cause even the mention of the Bruce Wayne and his famous, profitable company made her father see red.

That's how she found about the on-going competition between her father and Damian's one.

Obviously it was not like she was excluded from family rules and allowed to live in a bubble. Y/N was supposed to hate the entire Wayne family, the progenitor, his adopted kids and everyone who even came close to them. The only blood son included.

The only problem?

Said blood son was attending the same school, the same class as Y/N was. Which meant a lot of time spend together.

And you just command a teenager to do something and hope they'll listen. It's pretty much impossible, if not foolish belief.

***

In her defence - she tried.

She really tried to hate Damian.

But for five years, his name has been coming to her from every way on every occasion.

Wayne this, Wayne that.

Damn it!!

She could tear her hair out in utter desperation. How was she supposed to not think about him when all the world seemed to be dead set to remind her of his existence.

Of his stupid, unnecessary existence.

With his stupid, idiotic smile and his ridiculous handsome face and infuriating behaviour and the tendency to just be mean all the fucking time.

The internal fight between what she felt and how she acted made her clench her fist and grit her teeth every time Damian came into her view. The little bastard has been doing it on purpose just to see her flustered and enraged. It was like he was trying this best to show his superiority and just rub it into her face.

„L/N.”

„The hell you want Wayne?”

„Will you be attending this year’s New Year's Eve?”

„Will I what now?” she raised her gaze, unable to hide the confusion.

„want me to spell it out for you or something”?”

„Hm.” she muttered „I had no idea you knew how to do that Wayne.”

„I;m only telling you because I know you have problems with reading.”

„Clearly you have a problem with understanding simple things.”

„What I understand is that your father was left out when the invitations were being send. Are you finally going bankrupt”

„You little piece of-!” before she could stop herself her palm met with his cheek with a loud slap.

Shit.

He got exactly what he wanted. Provoked her and got the awaited reaction. She exposed herself, cause acting so dramatically only proved her contradictory, violent emotions he evoked in her.

„Nice one. Didn’t think you had it in you.” he wiped the little drop of blood she drew with her nails.

„Trust me I had it in me ever since you invaded the class.”

„I’ll let you make it even when you invade Wayne Manor for the party.”

„Though you said my family wasn’t invited?”

„It’s a charitable thing to open the door for the poor. I’ll see to it personally.”

„Such a generosity on your part, Mr. Wayne.” she rolled her eyes. „You can take your fake bounty and shove it up-”

„I can’t wait till you meet Todd. You two have so much in common.”

„Your older brother? Yeah, from what I heard you two have quite a rocky relationship. Maybe we’ll gang up on you.”

„Can’t wait.” Damian laughed dryly and with a mischievious glint in his eyes walked away not bothering to say another word.

***

„I;m not going.”

„You;re going.”

„I am so not going!”

„You don’t have a say in the matter!”

„Last year you said that new year’s party is not a place for kids!”

„You’re not a kid!”

„I’m 17! I;m a kid!”

„You ran away from home few months ago. You’re not a kid. You’re going. End of discussion.”

„If I’m not a kid then how come I can’t make a decision on this?” she smiled at her father with absolutely innocent eyes, pointing out all the holes in his logic.

Well-

He didn’t take her defiance in a good way.

Almost dragging her to the wayne manor, but dragging nevertheless.

***

Vomiting.

That’s how she felt entering the place,

Running away.

That’s how she felt walking up the steps and being thrown to the sharks when all the gazes landed on her and her father.

Hiding.

That’s how she felt when the gravity of being judged only based on her clothes and outlook sunk in.

Instead Y/N was forced to fake a smile, dance and do the rounds pretending to have fun.

All for the glory and good publicity of her father’s company.

Worst part?

He has been watching.

Like a predator in the darkness, waiting to strike when she was least suspecting it.

„Mr L/N.” Damian crept behind the girl and her father and she was sure he only did it on purpose to startle her. „Would you mind if I steal your daughter for a dance.

The tragicomic of the situation was truly poetic.

Her father went pale. Then red. His jaw got tense. Then loose. And then he smiled forcefully nodding his head, unable to say the dreaded yes. Apparently being torn between the devil (his daughter dancing with the son of his archenemy) and the deep blue sea (offending the host) was too much to handle.,

Too bad, Y/N had no chance to object or get away before Damian led her to the dancefloor.

„It’s not XVIth century Wayne, women can make their own decisions.” she hissed not really happy about his hands circling around her waist.

„Then run away if that’s what you want. I dare you.”

„I’m not going to make a scene here!”

„thought so.” he chuckled, capably leading her in the dance.

„what the hell is that supposed to mean!?”

„absolutely nothing.”

„I’ve known you for five years. There’s never nothing with you Damian.”

‘You used my name, Y/N.”

‘And you repeated my mistake.”

„Maybe it’s not a mistake?” he pulled her slightly closer, causing her to let out an involuntarily gasp. „I’m just saying-”

„I’m supposed to hate you.” she whispered making a turn and then a swirl

„So you don’t.” this was not a question but a statement, his hands trembling slightly. It was hard for him to keep the attitude while dealing with a whirlwind inside. He was 17 and liked a girl, having no idea how to behave to not make a fool out of himself, get embarrassed and lose in her eyes.

„don’t let it get into your head.” she whispered pressing herself closer to his body. They were dancing and it was only because of that.

„Me?” Damian smiled but it came unnoticed due to her head leaning on his shoulder „I think you’re the one who’s fantasising.”

„You sure you’re not hoping for a midnight kiss?” she mocked

„Are you?”

„no.”

„me neither.”

Bruce and f/n were carefully watching their kids.

Damian and Y/n couldn’t care less.

Family drama and conflicts seemed light years away at that moment.

 Future could be figured out later.

Part 2: moment of weakness

#damian wayne x reader #robin x reader #damian wayne x y/n #damian wayne x you #robin x you #robin x y/n #damian wayne fluff #christmas bingo #batfamily x reader

[beababoobies]

Hello, I have a request for an Angel Dust X F! Reader (platonic) one shot. Said reader is a hotel patron with a skunk-like form, and is highly insecure about her new appearance. Fortunately, Angel steps in to give her a pep talk about body confidence.

not gonna lie to you, I saw F!Reader and I fucking panicked. But you came to the rescue with that platonic, thank you kindly! 🤧 for sure. This is such a cute fucking idea??? Like hello?? Thank you for this!! 

Confidence is Key

Angel Dust x Fem!Skunk!Reader (Platonic)

words : 1k, slight warnings for suicidal thoughts and self doubt :(

When you first arrived in hell, you were completely devastated and embarrased. It wasn’t even the fact that you hadn’t played your earthy cards right - it was the fact that you got manifested in a skunk form. You avoided the critters on earth for a reason, so no wanting to encounter one didn’t exactly line up with being one. 

Luckily, you quickly figured out, ninety percent of the other sinners hated their manifested forms too. Did that help you, necessarily? No. But it made you feel a tiny bit less alone. People didn’t treat you too differently than they treated everyone else - which was, albeit, shitty, but you still fit in to some standard. Which didn’t stop you from hating everything about your manifested form. 

So when you found about the Hazbin Hotel, you were practically pawing at their doors. An second chance at a manifested form? In Heaven? Absolutely. To you, redemption was just a bonus. Anything not to be trapped in this fucked up body that Hell had given you. 

You had spent months at this hotel by now - still to absolutely nothing. The urge to give up and die at your own hands instead of waiting unarmed in the middle of the street during the next extermination grew stronger and stronger. If it took dying again to escape this sick joke of a form, you’d do it. 

That was exactly how you felt right now, in the middle of the night in your small hotel room, curled up in your bed, black and white tail tucked between your legs as you sobbed, sniffling as you tossed and turned in your covers, fighting the internal battle of accepting your own cruel form or just giving it all up. But apparently, you were clearly having an internal battle too loudly.

There was three loud knocks on the door, followed up by a yawn. “Turn it down or talk about it, Toots.” Angel says from the other door, and you can hear his hand on the doorknob, before stopping. “You decent?” He adds, and you hum a small noise of yes before he walks in, rubbing his eyes just to see the absolute mess you had turned yourself into.

Makeup rubbed all across your face, clothes bent out of shape, and your hair that you usually worked so hard to maintain was completely messed. He walks over to you with a soft sigh, sitting on the edge of your bed, leaning back on one set of arms while the other is crossed over his lower stomach.

“Alright. Get to talking, toots.” He says with a sigh, sympathy in his eyes as he watched you start to stumble over your words, sniffling and trying to explain anything, just for him to nod, before finally cutting your ramble off. He knew this exact situation all too well. He saw Cherri go through it a couple of times over. It happened to a lot of people down here. 

“Alright, here’s this deal. You have manifested in this form for a reason. I don’t know what that reason is - but you’re still you, y’know? You can still dress like you, walk like you. You’re the sexiest skunk I’ve ever seen, for the record.” He jokes with you and smiled when you hiccup out a giggles, still wiping away your tears and blowing your nose. 

“You think I got dropped down here like this and loved it? Absolutely not.” He groans, rolling his eyes and leaning over to you to help you start to wipe off some of your ruined makeup, still pep-talking you back to your normal state. “First things first was the two sets of arms. I mean, hello?” He says with a wave of one of his arms, and you giggle again, closing your eyes softly as he starts working on cleaning off the other eye. 

“I was hitting myself, the people around me. Plus, I don’t know about you, but I certainly wasn’t thishairy on earth either.” He says, and you feel your guilt start to melt away, looking down at your striped patterns. “It takes a LOT of time to master being a fuckin’ animal, or, in my case, bug when you’ve been a human your whole life.” He reassures quietly, throwing the used makeup wipe in the trash before you hand him your brush, sighing quietly as you listen to him talk and help your detangle your hair.

“I absolutely hated spiders on earth, y’know? Would jump out of the room whenever I saw one. That wasn’t my room any more, it was theirs.” He says with a sigh, gently brushing out a knot you had formed from pulling and twirling at your hair anxiously. “Guessing you weren’t the biggest fan of skunks either then, toots?” He asks quietly and you go with a quiet “mhm.” wincing slightly as the brush pulled at your hair.

“I don’t know if hell does it as some sort of sick joke -“ he starts, brushing more of your striped black and white hair from your eyes. “- or if it’s just automatically something to torture us. But you have to trust that you’re still loveable. And deserving of feeling hot.” He adds, handing your brush back to you as you turn around to face him, refusing to make eye contact, nervously toying with your hands. 

He cups your chin, tilting your head up to look at him with a friendly smile, tilting his head at you. “We’re in this together, okay toots?” He said and you nod, making me smile a little wider. “Whether it’s the shitty toxic-positivity rehab that we’re both in, or just the face that we’re both in these forms.” He says, wrapping you in a hug, feeling you relax softly in his arms before he pulls back. 

“You deserve to feel confident.” He says, putting his hand on your shoulders and watching you nod confidently, head held up high. “And if there is absolutely any way I can help you feel that.” He coos softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead in a reassuring way. “I hope you feel comfortable enough to let me.” 

#hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #angel dust x reader #angel dust x you #angel dust #hellaverse #cherri bomb #hazbin cherri bomb

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 10: How Did It End Up Like This?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter ten of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 6K

Warnings: References to sex, Kind of depressing, Cursing, Drinking, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, this one is really sad y'all, like REALLY sad, I'm serious this one is really sad.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

**********************************************

1980

“Ben, stop.” You shout.

“Move damn it!” Ben’s eyes blaze a dark green sending a tremor down your spine, but you don’t budge.

“No.”

“Get the fuck out of my way.” He snarls louder.

You stand defiantly in front of him, where he towers over you, eyes narrowed, and shoulders tensed. His broad shoulders block the fluorescent lights that hang overhead and illuminate the gym, dramatizing his imposing figure.

“I’m not going to. So you’re either going to have to move me yourself or you can go cool off.” Your retort your voice icy.

The heat from Ben’s anger vibrated through the air between you, but you weren’t going to move. Not when he was being ridiculous.

Noir was angry, angry that Ben took a movie role that he wanted. In hindsight you also thought it was ridiculous that Ben needed to star in all the movies. He was already America’s First Superhero and the Golden Boy and America’s Sweetheart, but it wasn't enough for him for some reason. You often thought his obsession with fame had something to do with his dad. Ben had a lot of problems when it came to his father, all of which made Ben compensate other ways, such as, feeling the need to be in charge, feeling the need to be loved and accepted by others he didn’t know, being unable to express his emotions, and the current problem which was feeling the need to claim the dominant role as most popular superhero.

Aka when he turned into Captain Toxic Masculinity.

Honestly, you were exhausted. All of this was exhausting. Ben was exhausting.  As someone who’d loved him this long you couldn’t help but see the shift from the boy you used to know into something unrecognizable. Occasionally you could see Ben, the old Ben, your Ben, who laughed with you, but those moments were few and certainly didn’t happen in public.

You shoulders tense with the force of your own anger and frustration, standing tall between Ben and Noir who lays on the ground behind you. Noir hadn't made an effort to get up, still stunned from the blows he took from Ben. The first few punches you hadn’t stopped, but it was when Ben felt the need to continue despite Noir’s pleas to stop that you had to step in.

You didn’t know where that came from, Ben’s need to beat people who were conceding. When he was younger you'd seen Ben get in a fight before, but those few times he hadn't continued to beat the other person when they gave up. The smell of whiskey and reefer floats off his clothes and you wonder how much he’s had to drink. Ben had two moods when he was drunk angry or clingy, and right now the anger was winning. You could hear the mad pump of his blood through his body and you wonder what else he might have taken today.

Because whiskey and reefer isn't enough? If he wasn't so damn indestructible he'd probably be dead from overdose.

Ben’s lip is curled back in a sneer, eyes flashing from where Noir lays on the ground then back to you. You know that he's ten seconds away from ripping Noir in half, and that's why you don't move. Noir didn't deserve that.

The way Ben's eyes burn through the space between you is hauntingly familiar as the memory of the night you hid Ben from his father settled over your mind. You fight the shudder at the comparison.

Ben wasn’t anything like his father. The thought is immediate, but then the memory of the past forty years begins to settle over your mind. Or maybe he was.

“Fucking pussy. Having a woman stand up for you.” Ben snaps at Noir.

Ben leans around you to spit at him, then raises his gaze back to you one more time before he stomps off, slamming the door of the gym so hard that it breaks the glass.

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. Everyone on Payback was watching you like you were crazy and you partly were. Getting in between Ben and someone else was beyond stupid. It wasn’t the first time, but you knew that you were the only person that could do it. If Countess or Gunpowder had stepped in Ben would not have relented. It had to be you. It always had to be you.

And you hated the weight of that burden on your shoulders.

You turn towards Noir, holding out a hand to help him up. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He sighs taking it . “You didn’t have to do that.”

“He’s just being… well. Him.” You mutter.

You hated that this was the new harsh reality, the new Ben that was born when he took the serum and became America’s First Superhero.

“It was incredibly stupid.” Countess sniffs from where she stands with the TNT Twins. Gunpowder is leaning back against the outer ring with Mindstorm who stares unblinkingly at you.

“Well, guess I took a page out of your book then.” You say, narrowing your eyes at her.

You couldn’t stand her. Ever since she joined Payback all she’d done was try to catch Ben’s eye and get between the two of you, but he never gave her the time of day. She had quickly won the favor of everyone else on Payback, which only made you even more angry because it always seemed like you were the odd one out wherever you went.

Countess only sneers back in response, flipping her red hair over her shoulders. Despite Ben's exit the tension in the room is almost choking. Your so-called team was watching you with unreadable expressions and you suddenly got the impression that you were trespassing or interrupting. It had happened before, when you came to a training session early and you walked in on the rest of the team, sans Ben, talking in hushed tones and they immediately broke apart when you appeared.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that despite the fact you stood between Ben and Noir, the rest of the team still didn’t like having you there. Probably because they associated you with Ben. It made you uneasy.

Because despite Stan’s efforts to keep you all together Ben's continuous outbursts drove you all further and further apart. And you worried what would happen the day when the shoe finally dropped.

*************************************

One look at the clock on your wall showed that it was almost one in the morning, but you weren't tired. All you could think about is what almost happened to Noir. It wasn't that you particularly liked anyone on Payback other than Ben, honestly the whole superhero thing was getting tedious and you had considered more than once getting out.

But you couldn't. Sometimes you felt responsible for Ben, like you were the only thing keeping him on the straight and narrow. Of course every single damn day that road was getting narrower and narrower and now it was more like a balance beam than a two way street.

Ben's new outlook on life that revolved around drugs, women, more drugs, and more women didn't make it easier. 

You frown at your sketchpad remembering when Ben founded Herogasm. You'd gone the first time, regretted walking through the door, stayed ten minutes, and then left.

Sex without feelings never appealed to you, but that wasn't why you left, it was watching Ben with other women that hurt you. You could barely get through it when he mentioned something in passing, but watching him there with them made you uncontrollably angry and not to mention frustrated. You didn't understand him, couldn't understand why Ben was different around you. Didn't know why whenever you were alone he would give you hope, just to take it all away again.

How could so much change? How could everything go to shit so quickly?

You think of all the years that followed the night that Ben asked you to come with him, how you thought that Ben was telling you that he loved you in his own way. But he didn’t. You were realizing that now, as painful as it was to admit to yourself, Ben only saw you as a friend, would only ever see you as a friend.

When you decided to come with him you thought that the change would be your friendship into something else, but it never came, the only thing that changed was Ben.

A loud banging at your door makes your entire apartment shudder and pulls you out of your memories of the past.

There's only one person who can do that.

Your home was a small two-bedroom apartment in New York City, but you loved it. It was quaint and comfortable and each time you came home you felt relaxed because you were able to shut out the life you lived everyday. The small kitchen was barely big enough for two people to stand in, but it made it more intimate and cozy. The living room had a soft leather couch, but no tv despite Ben’s complaints that you should get one. He hated that you couldn’t watch his films when he came over. You liked listening to music more anyway. Your collection of vinyl lined the living room wall in clean bookcases next to a small record player. The spare bedroom served as your studio, not that you were trying to sell your art, but because you needed a place to exist where you weren't a supe and where you weren't in love with Ben. There were stacks of sketchbooks in the studio closet from when you were a child, but you couldn't bear to get rid of them. Sometimes you imagined living here with Ben, cooking in the small kitchen while he read the newspaper, lounging on the couch and listening to music together, and falling asleep on his chest with his arms wrapped tightly around you.

You sigh, pushing away the warmth of the thought, and wave your hand to telekinetically unlock the front door behind you. The familiar purple glow from your abilities fills the apartment. Ben had a key, but you figured he just wanted to make an entrance.

Always the drama queen.

“Got anything to drink?” He asks as he enters the living room.

You glance over the back of the couch to look at him. He's more casually dressed now, wearing a pair of jeans and a green t-shirt the same color of his suit.

“What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d stop by, see if you’re still pissed.”

“As I recall it was you that was pissed.” You roll your eyes at him.

“Only because you were getting in my way Sweetheart” The way he says your nickname is harsh and mocking, so different than the way the old Ben used to say it. When it sounded genuine, caring, almost special.

“Because you were about to rip Noir apart!” You gesture with the pencil in your hand, snapping your sketchpad shut.

“That pussy deserved it. Thinking he was better than me. I’m fucking Soldier Boy and he’s nothing more than a-“ Ben scoffs rolling his eyes.

“Ben I can’t do this if you’re gonna be like this right now.”  You interrupt pinching the bridge of your nose with your fingertips, still annoyed from earlier. You hated that he did that, when he made you feel like his babysitter, when he made you feel like you had to make apologies for him.

“Like what?”

“High, drunk, acting crazy-“

“I’m not acting fucking crazy!” He snaps.

“Ben-“ You begin with a sigh.

“Fine.” He spits. “We don’t have to fucking talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“Thank you.” You wave a hand haphazardly towards the kitchen. “There should be some whiskey in there somewhere. Though I don’t think you need anything else to drink.” Your nose wrinkles as you inhale, the smell of stale alcohol wafting back, followed by the unmistakable scent of perfume and sweat.

The super senses really sucked sometimes. Smelling the women that Ben had sex with was an unfortunate skill you had acquired.

“Fuck off.” He rolls his eyes, but waits for a minute eyeing you. “You’re not going to get it for me?”

You ignore his sharp tone and turn back to your sketchpad. “Nope. I don’t want to enable you.”

Ben stomps into your kitchen. It's immediately followed by the loud banging of him searching the cabinets for booze.

He should know where it is, spends enough time here.

“If you break anything, you’re going to fix it.” You shout opening your sketchbook back to the page you were on. You were drawing the Philadelphia of your youth, the familiar streets, the cars, and the women dressed in beautiful outfits.

“My hands are better suited for other things Sweetheart.” You hear him mutter under his breath and you try not to snap your pencil in half. His taunt made you think about Herogasm and the scent of perfume on his skin, and that was the last thing you wanted to think about.

Ben comes back and slumps onto the couch beside you, a large whiskey gripped in his hand. He sighs loudly to get your attention when you don't look up from your drawing.

"Alright, what is it?” You ask continuing to draw.

"Nothing.” He grumbles drinking from his glass.

“Ben, I’ve known you for over fifty years I can tell when you’re upset.”

“I’m not upset.”

“Well I doubt it’s over what you said or did to Noir today. So what is it? What are you not upset about?”

"I just thought it would be different." Ben swirls the glass in his hands.

"What?"

"Being on Payback."

"What do you mean?" You continue to sketch the shape of a woman walking down the streets.

"When I first started doing all this fucking superhero shit it was different. Felt like I was promoting something, now it kinda feels like I’m just here. And no one respects me.”

“They’re not going to respect you if you keep threatening them and beating up whoever pisses you off.” You mutter.

“They might.” He snaps.

They won't.

"Well the way things are going with Russia I’m sure there will be another war." You sigh, thinking about the recent newspaper headlines. Everything was devoted to the Cold War, everyone was afraid of what Russia was doing or what they were planning. Stan Edgar and Legend were talking about some Anti-Communist campaign videos and posters that they wanted you to pose for, but you weren't sure you wanted to.

"You think so?" He sounds optimistic.

"I’m not gonna hope for one, but probably. I get it though. You’re doing all those movies and premieres and photo shoots, it doesn't feel real."

It was exactly how you felt. You felt that all this supe shit was coming to a head and what did you have to show for it? A few pictures of you holding up a car or a painted caricature of you on the side of a jet or a short film with stupid prerecorded lines that made no sense and even more ridiculous outfits that Legend tried to get you to wear. When you got the serum with Ben you thought you’d be contributing something to society, but no. It was just like when you were a child, dressed up like a China doll, made to be looked at but never used.

"I like those movies."

"I’ve noticed." You breathe remembering earlier when Ben almost killed Noir over the movie role.

Noir technically started that, but Ben just took it way too far.

"What about you?"

The question catches you off guard. “What about me?”

"You haven’t done any movies lately. Legend said that you turned down a few films." Ben takes a swig from the glass in his hand.

"Aren’t you afraid that I’ll steal some of your thunder Soldier Boy?” Your taunt. “Because I already saw what you tried to do to Noir today. And I’d rather you not beat me to a pulp-“

“You’re not like Noir. You’re different.”

“Mhmm. Sure.” You sigh rolling your eyes at him.

Ben sits there for a minute. You can feel his gaze on you. “I’d never hurt you y/n.”

The softer cadence of his voice makes you pause your pencil against the page. You knew it was true. Even when Ben was pissed off it was the line he never crossed. Ben never touched you when he was angry, but it never made it any easier to deal with him.

“Hey.” Ben whispers to get your attention, but you continue to look down at your paper. “Look at me.” His thumb comes under you chin to lift your eyes to his.

“You know that right?” Ben’s gaze is soft, you hadn’t expected it to be given the way he entered you apartment and his sullen mood. “You know that I’d never hurt you?”

The look in his eyes makes your throat tight, makes you see the Ben you used to know, who promised to look out for you and who promised to be strong for the both of you. And it hurts more than you thought it would, because you weren't sure that boy was still there.

“Yeah. I know.” You nod, but you don’t smile. You knew it was what he wanted to hear. “You’ve been talking to Legend about me?” You say to make the warm feeling of his touch fade.

He shrugs satisfied with your response, the softness fading from his eyes as he drops his hand. “I was worried.”

You fold your legs up under you. “I don’t know, I didn't love any of the scripts. And I’ve been thinking about getting out. I’ve been doing this so long-"

It was the first time you'd said it aloud to Ben. You'd mentioned it once to Legend and then made sure he never said anything about it. You weren't sure how Ben would react to you leaving.

"What?" Ben's eyes widen in surprise.

"Come on Ben, you’re telling me that you don’t want to have a normal life? Meet someone, have some kids, settle down? We’ve been doing this shit for years. Doesn’t get any easier."

"Sometimes.” He smirks at you. “So who’s the guy?”

“What?” You raise your eyebrows in confusion.

“The guy you’re going to settle down with.”

“What makes you assume that I’ve met him?”

“I mean, I’ve never seen you with anyone. And I’ve never walked in on you fucking anyone. Plus, you never come to Herogasm-“ Ben pauses. “It’s not Noir is it? Is that why you were protecting him today?”

“No.” You scoff, shading the side of a building to avoid his gaze, because how do you tell him that you met the only person you’d ever wanted when you were 8 years old?

“Good.” Ben drinks from his glass. “I do think about it sometimes.” He says it quietly.

“Huh?”

“The house, having a few rugrats.” He shrugs. “Might be nice.”

“Yeah.” Your throat is tight imagining Ben with someone else like Countess, sitting at his wedding, watching him say those vows to someone else. You didn't think you'd be able to just sit there if it came to that.

“How about you and I get married?” He says it nonchalantly.

You roll your eyes. You knew he didn’t mean it. He was just saying it to joke with you like always. Ben never saw you that way, you were realizing that more and more each day, even though it hurt to think it.

“We’d kill each other before we say I do.” You quip staring down at the page.

“Maybe. But really, we’ve known each other long enough-“

“That’s not a reason to get married. Plus, we both know that you’re not a one woman kind of guy and if you're actually being serious about this it would mean that you would have to change-“

You think about it. If Ben actually did want to commit, could he do it? His wandering eyes and hands would drive you crazy if he finally did want to start a relationship. You definitely did not want an open relationship. You wanted Ben to be wholly yours as much as you would be his, because you knew that if you devoted yourself to Ben, he would probably cheat, but then be furious if you spent any amount of time with someone else. You remembered all the ways he acted around Howard. Ben was crazy around him, and you and Ben hadn’t been together.

Imagine what he would do to someone else if we were.

“I can be a one woman kind of guy-“ Ben scoffs. “I can do anything.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” You mutter, but you know he can hear you.

Ben puts down his glass on your coffee table before his hand lays on top of yours against the sketchpad in you lap.

“Y/n.” He whispers. You can smell the whiskey on his breath, but you don’t look up at him, you can’t. Because you know as soon as you look into his eyes you’ll do whatever he wants.

But you didn’t want to be his consolation prize. You didn’t want Ben to marry you because he was bored, drunk, and he thought he might as well marry you. You wanted Ben to marry you because he was 100% head over heels for you as much as you were for him.

He tilts your chin upwards to look at him. Electricity thrums in your veins when you lock eyes, the look in his gaze is open, gentle, almost tender.

It reminds you of the boy you used to know. Lately you hadn’t seen him. If you were being honest, you hadn’t seen him much since the night he came to ask you to come with him, before the serum, when you thought he finally realized that he wanted you as much as you wanted him.

The only time you’d see the real Ben was when it was just the two of you, not the angry, macho, vengeful fighter for justice that he put on whenever he was in front of the team or in front of the cameras. You didn’t understand that. He said that showing emotions made him less of a man, but he never seemed to have a problem being different when it was just the two of you.

You hated that. In those quiet moments you felt your heart clench tight in your chest because each time you thought that he would finally admit that he loved you, that after all these years you were the one.

But he never did.

“I could change.” Ben whispers. “I could be with one woman.” 

“Ben.” You take in a deep breath to clear your head, fighting the ball of emotion that has begun to burn at the back of your throat. “You’re drunk.” You breathe.

He blinks a few times as if he can’t comprehend what you're saying.

“You always get like this when you’re drunk. You know?” You pull back from where his hand rests on your chin.  “But you can stay if you want. There’s some pizza in the fridge and I’m gonna take a shower and go to bed.” You stand and step around him, the urge to cry building in your chest.

“Okay.” Ben whispers to the air, because you're already gone, fleeing down the hallway before he can see you cry.

When you step into the shower you allow yourself to break. The soft sobs drowned out by the sound of running water. You wished you could move past this, all of this and more importantly you wished that you hadn’t fallen in love with him. 

Memories of the past lodge themselves in the back of your throat. You remember the day he begged you to come with him to get the Compound V injection, when you left your life behind and chose him. You thought that was his way of saying he loved you, that he couldn’t live without you. You were wrong. It hurt to admit that, but you were wrong. Ben didn’t try to build on the relationship you had, he kept it the same, the friendly banter, the hugs, hanging around with you whenever he couldn’t stand to be alone. He still slept over, but that’s all that happened. You thought that day meant something, that it was the beginning of something, some wonderful romanticized future filled with warmth and love.

You never thought it would be like this.

You didn’t regret going with him often, but on nights like this when it was late and Ben was drunk and he acted differently you did. Because it made you think that there was a chance of a future with him, but then when he woke up the next day sober, it started all over again with him being short tempered and a dick to everyone who was around him.

It was exhausting. And you didn’t know how much more of it you could take.

The only thing you regretted about the serum was that it made you immortal, invulnerable, and that meant whoever you decided to make a life with would die. There was only a handful of others like you and you hadn’t liked any of them except Ben. You wondered if this was your penance for saying no to Howard, your mother's last laugh when she said that Ben would never choose you and now you had to go on like this forever.

You remember the fear that you would be trapped in a marriage with Howard, you never thought that you'd feel trapped with Ben.

But now…

When you walk back into your bedroom, Ben’s already in your bed, laying on his back, smoking a blunt and looking at the ceiling. He's wearing a pair of sweatpants, that you bought him forever ago so he didn't have to sleep in his jeans, and the same t-shirt as before.

“What did I say about smoking those in here?” You sigh, getting into bed beside him, but being careful as to not touch even though it’s all you want.

“It’s a free country doll.” Ben mutters, but he puts it out in the ashtray that you left for him on the bedside table. Because you knew that he would continue to do it even when you told him not to.

The amount of times he ended up here at night always surprised you. Ben might have been bed hopping, snorting, and drinking himself into a stupor but the amount of times you woke up with him in bed next to you was astounding. He’d let himself in with the key you made him for emergencies while you were asleep. It was almost like he didn’t sleep in his apartment anymore and you hated how much you depended on him being there in the morning when you woke up. But the truth was, Ben was all you had, and the thought of losing him scared you. Which meant you continued to put up with the man he became, trying to hold tight to the image of the boy he used to be.

You lay on your back beside him, looking up at the ceiling. The inch of space between your bodies is almost too obvious. “I’m going to go to Philadelphia for a few days.” You breathe.

“Why?”

“My brother isn’t doing too well. His son called.” You say, your throat thick. “He said he thinks that it’s time.”

Your parents had passed a few years ago and Ben had gone to the funerals with you. When Ben’s father had passed, he hadn’t gone to the funeral, he’d drowned himself in the 21st annual Herogasm. And after he showed up on your doorstep smelling like sweat, drugs, booze, and cheap perfume. You’d made him take a shower before getting into bed. The next morning you had woken up in his arms, but more surprising was the fact that he had woken up before you and hadn't pushed you away, in fact he had held you closer to him. You figured that he needed someone there with him. His father had done and said horrible things to Ben, and you kept him company if that’s what he wanted, but couldn’t admit it.

“I’m sorry.” His hand finds yours on the bed. The gesture surprises you.

“Yeah. But that’s the way it is now, I guess.” You whisper, squeezing it.

“What do you mean?”

“We don’t age. Everyone else does. Means that we’ll always just see everyone else go.”

“But not us.” Ben says it like he’s trying to cheer you up.

“Yeah.” You sigh.

Does that mean it’s always going to be like this? Me waiting for him to come here after a 24 hour non stop orgy or after he’s had one two many? Just because he can’t stand the thought of being alone?

You didn’t want that future. You knew that he wanted to be there with you, but it wasn’t enough and it wasn’t the same thing you wanted.

Maybe getting out of this would be good. Put some distance between me and him, let me try to find me again.

Ben is quiet for a minute, the only sound you hear is the thrum of the blood in his veins and his heart steadily pumping it.

“Do you want me to come?” He says it slowly, his thumb rubs against the back of your hand in a soothing motion. 

The question breaks something inside of you, because you wanted nothing more than to have him there with you, but you didn’t want the version of Ben who was Soldier Boy, the loud, angry, short tempered version who was always high or drunk. The one that you felt that you needed to apologize for.

“Nah. It’ll be okay. I’ll get to see my great nephew. He’s supposed to be walking now.” You try to force cheeriness into your tone, but it doesn’t stick.

“Okay.”

You can’t help but wonder if Ben is hurt by your rejection. You did not often say no to him.

He doesn’t let go of your hand though, in fact he brings it up against his chest while he looks at the ceiling.

"Do you regret it?” Ben says in almost a whisper

"Hmm?”

“Coming with me.”

You pause for a second and think about lying, but finally settle on the truth. “Sometimes."

"Why?” Ben's voice rumbles against where your hand lays against his chest, and for a second you think he sounds almost pained.

"We’ve changed so much than who we were back then. Sometimes I don’t recognize myself.”

You didn’t want to say that it was him you didn’t recognize. Or that it always felt that you were running after the boy he used to be. The one that made you feel safe, comforted, made it feel like home.

"I don’t think change is a bad thing."

Of course you don't.

"It is if it’s in the wrong direction.” You whisper, but know he can hear you.

“So that’s why you want out? Because you don’t recognize yourself? Seems like a shitty reason."

“I just think it might be nice to try something new. I’ve been doing this for such a long time-“

“That’s why the films would be a good idea. If you want I can talk to the director about you being a co-star in the one we start filming next week. He won't say no to me-“ It was the closest you’d ever heard him come to pleading, besides the night he asked you to come with him to get the serum.

But why? Was it his way of keeping me with him? Was it because he didn’t want me to leave because he wanted me here? Or was it because he just wanted someone there to sit with when the silence was too much? The silence that seems to follow when he's not with me.

“Ben I’m okay. It’s okay I just want something different.”

“Like what?” You hand is still clutched in his where it rests over his chest and you can't help but wonder why. It was surprising. Sure Ben tolerated the occasional hug, but holding your hand for this long was unusual. You attributed it to the booze. When Ben got drunk he tended to be more clingy, he never admitted that, but you saw it.

“I don’t know. I just want a family again-“

“You have a family. You said you’re going to see your great nephew-" Ben says it like he doesn't want you to leave and it breaks something inside you.

How can he not admit that he cares about me? That he loves me? He has to after all these years doesn't he?

“I know. I mean I want a family. Someone to come home to every night, someone I love, someone who loves me-“ You fight to keep the frustrated tears from falling. The dream of him and you inhabiting your apartment together washes back over your mind in shades of gray. You wanted that so badly.

“Oh.”

“You don’t want that?” It’s taking everything for you not to tell Ben that you want it to be him, that you always wanted it to be him.

“Maybe.”

The silence grows between the two of you as you lay there and Ben still hasn't let go of your hand.

“Did you want to marry him?” He says after a few minutes.

“What?” You look at him confused. Ben isn't looking at the ceiling like you thought, he's looking at you. He almost looks, sorry. And you wonder again how much he's had to drink.

“That asshole." He clarifies.

"Howard?"

"Yeah."

“It’s been 40 years-“ You sigh as if it doesn’t matter. But it does. You chose Ben that night and you thought that him asking you to come with him meant that he was choosing you as well.

“Come on.” Ben squeezes the hand that rests against his chest.

“Why does it matter?"

“Because you’re saying you wanted a family. Someone to come home to and that pussy would have given it to you.”

You pause for a second trying to read his expression. “I like the idea of marriage. Of saying those vows to someone else.” You say slowly. “But I didn’t want to say them to Howard.” You don’t say that you wanted to say them to Ben, don’t say that the night he told you not to marry Howard you thought he was trying to tell you that he wanted to marry you instead.

“So you want to say them to someone?”

“Yeah. One day.” You frown, turning back to look at the ceiling. “You never want to say them to someone?”

Ben doesn’t answer immediately. “Maybe.”

Probably Liberty.

You sigh to yourself thinking about one of your least favorite supes that you’d come across. She wasn’t terrible, just pushy and into supes being united together. You also didn’t like that she felt that supes deserved to be worshiped, that supes were gods, but you knew you weren't. The powers were not random, the gifts were not given by God, they were given by the devil and all those deals came with a price. Even if you tired to walk away, you wondered if Vought would let you go. You also hated how much time Ben spent with her.

The thought of her leaves a bad taste in your mouth, and despite how good it feels, you pull your hand free from Ben's grasp  and turn your back to him, cuddling into your pillow. Your grip is so tight on fluffy material you wonder how it hasn't ripped, but you need to stop talking to him. Talking to him when he was like this made it harder and right now it was taking everything not to cry again.

And you were just so tired of everything. You wondered if one day it would be different.

“Goodnight Ben.” You whisper.

“Goodnight.”

And just as you drift into a dreamless sleep, you think you feel him put his arm around your waist and pull your back into his chest, but when you wake up the next day you forget and Ben is gone.

*************************************************

n/a: Yeah, this chapter is really sad. And I wish that I could say it gets better, but honestly, it's gonna get a lot worse before it gets better. 😭😭😭

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist, please let me know :)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303 @deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs @bughill126, @simplyfixated @sleepjam, @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts,@onlyangel-444

#soldier boy x you #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy/ben #the boys amazon #the boys fanfic #jensen ackles #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x y/n #the boys #the boys series #the boys tv #soldier boy fic #jackles #the boys season 3 #the boys s3

[seiakii]

dragneel n. — sfw

summary: you finally came back from a long, long, mission (you were gone for a week)

warning: none! fluffy content <3

notes: i want natsu so bad rn. this is so self indulgent. lowercase intended. it’s been forever since i last wrote, i feel like i’m rusty.

everyone was getting a little fed up with natsu, as he had been causing a lot more fights with everyone lately, though they aren’t too surprised seeing as how you were gone on a mission without him. happy was watching his pink haired friend sulk, an aura of sadness and gloom surrounding him. happy decided to fly over to natsu.

“hey natsu! wanna go fishing?”

“nah man… i’m good.” natsu replied sourly. happy internally groaned. suddenly natsu’s head perked up with his nose sniffing something out. within seconds, the guildhall doors opened up, revealing natsu’s ever so missed girlfriend, you! you walked in looking around before you spot natsu with a grin on his face. he immediately started running towards you, almost stumbling over his own feet.

“you’re back!” he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling your body deep into his. you returned the gesture by wrapping your arms around his neck. “yes, i am! i couldn’t stay away from my flame head for too long.” you said between giggles. natsu buried his face into your neck, taking in your scent that he missed so much.

“welcome back y/n. i expect a report on the mission, but i see you may have more important things to deal with.” makarov said while gesturing to the dragon slayer clinging to you. you laughed lightly while nodding. you decided you wanted to go home since you were sweaty and tired from your solo mission. the second you said the word “home” natsu started dragging the both of you there.

when you two reach home you two immediately are pulled into bed, natsu clinging to you as if it was your last day. he was sitting on the bed as you sat on his lap. he pulled his face away from your chest, only for his lips to meet yours. his lips warm against yours, making your whole body warm up. he pulls away, “never go on a mission without me again.” you brought your hands to the side of his face, holding his close to yours.

“never.” you responded.

omlll that was terrible i am so sorry lolll

#natsu #nasty dragneel #natsu x reader #natsu dragneel x reader #nasty fluff #natsu dragneel fluff #fairy tail #anime #fairy tail anime #fairy tail x reader #anime x reader #fan fiction #fluff #anime fluff

[holllandtrash]

red flags | charles leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

this is based off a request an anon left for @leclvrc but they opened it up for someone else to write it: 'toxic ex Charles where the reader and Carlos are together and Charles just couldn't stand that his teammates is with his ex'

word count: 13.2k (im so sorry) tags/warnings: 18+ toxic, smut, a lot of swears, really toxic, not healthy, i don’t condone any of this, this has so many red flags, more than the 2022 Emilia Romagna Grand Prix qualifying session (which was a lot) cheating, which i also don’t condone AT ALL holy moly don’t cheat on your partners, not even for charles leclerc, a little degrading, some choking did i mention this is just angst and hate and smut, thigh riding, overstimulation, p in v, all of it,  this is bad this is all bad, if you ever come across a guy like this fucking run and alternatively if you relate to y/n pls seek a therapist.

Honestly, it was fucking stupid. All of it. 

The way Charles looked at you when you walked into the motorhome as if you were a driver for a rival team was stupid. The way he literally rolled his eyes or made a face of disgust whenever you kissed Carlos was stupid. The way he completely disregarded your presence as you stood at the barrier to congratulate Carlos and him at the end of a Ferrari 1-2, was fucking stupid. And it was on international television so everyone and their mother was able to see the way Charles purposely ignored you after hugging the people on either side of you. 

You decided to call him out on it the second you and Carlos returned to the hotel. 

“What room is he in?” You demanded, storming down the hall when the elevator doors opened. 

“Mi cielo, I don’t have a key to his room.”

The endearing term almost made you forget about ripping into Charles. Carlos had such a good weekend, he just wanted to relax and celebrate with you. Instead, he was following you down the hallway as you pointed at all of the numbered suites, waiting to see if Carlos would react to any of them.

And he did. He swallowed when you passed room 1250. You came to a sudden halt and looked back and forth between him and the door.

“This is his room?”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh my love,” you clicked your tongue against your teeth, stepping forward to cup his cheek with your hand. You felt his stubble under the pads of your fingers as you plastered on your sweetest smile. “You have a distinct tell when you lie.”

Your smile dropped as Carlos tried to argue with you, assuring you that he wasn’t lying. But he did the same thing every time a little white lie passed through his lips. He always glanced up and to the left. Very quickly, you’d miss it if you weren’t looking for it, but it was a nervous tell of his you came to learn early on into your relationship.

Turning on your heels, you raised your fist to the door and started to hit it obnoxiously loud. Carlos attempted to grab your arm to get you to stop, muttering something about how there were other people in this hotel, but you just swatted him away and kept pounding on the wooden surface. 

Charles knew you were out in the hall. There was no one else who would be causing this much of a disturbance just to talk to him. You had done it before, before you two even broke up. There were countless times when the two of you had gotten into fights during a race weekend and he’d ask for the hotel keys to be switched, purposely locking you out for a few hours, occasionally even for a full night if the argument was bad enough.

Honestly, you should have walked away from Charles a lot sooner. 

But when things were good they were really fucking good. And the make up sex after you two were finished yelling at each other was almost as good as the hate sex. 

And that’s all it was that was keeping you together. The physical attraction, the intimate pull you two shared. It wasn’t love, it wasn't romance and it certainly wasn’t the idea that you two would start a family and settle down one day. It was purely sex and it was unhealthy. 

Whereas Carlos was everything Charles could never be. 

Obviously jumping from one Ferrari driver to another caused a bit of an uproar, but it made for an entertaining episode on the last season of Drive to Survive. The producers had a habit of creating their own drama, but they didn’t need to embellish anything between Carlos and Charles. There was tension on the track, the determination to be the better driver, the constant fight and you were in the middle of it. 

It wasn’t your fault that Carlos just so happened to be standing in the motorhome when you and Charles got into one of the worst screaming matches of your lives. You both thought the place was empty, it was nearly midnight and no one had any reason to still be at the paddock. 

But Carlos heard it all. He heard all of the things Charles called you. He heard every swear in every possible language you knew come out of your mouth. He heard the door slam. He heard the way you screamed ‘We’re done’ with such strength and fury that he himself was paralysed with fear as you stormed down the stairs. 

And then he saw your tear stained cheeks. He saw your trembling hands and heard your ragged breaths as you landed on the bottom step. You met Carlos’ eyes and not only were you embarrassed that he was a witness to that whole mess, his pitiful stare was what pushed you to the edge. 

Your knees gave out as you all but collapsed to the floor. Carlos crossed the motorhome and bent down to your level, hurrying to take off his jumper so you could use it to wipe the tears that just wouldn’t stop. 

What were you even crying for? Your relationship had been over for months by that point. Charles treated you like shit. You treated him like shit. It was a toxic cycle that was finally coming to an end.

But for two years, he was all you knew. He was everything to you. The good, the bad, the disastrous, it was your life. 

You didn’t intend on anyone picking up the pieces. This was your mess, you had to move on by yourself. 

So when Carlos offered to take you out, get you away from the motorhome, away from Charles, even just go for a drive, you almost said no. He had seen the downfall of yours and Charles’ relationship coming for a while now and you didn’t want to burden him anymore. You should have just stood up and left. 

But you didn’t. 

You hung out with Carlos that night. Nothing happened, of course. Maybe because part of you was holding onto that sliver of hope that Charles would call and ask where you were, only that call never came. He was done too. 

There were no ulterior motives when you decided to keep hanging out with Carlos. It wasn’t to get under Charles’ nerves, it wasn’t so you could still be around the paddock. In all honesty, you avoided the races for a while, not wanting to run into Charles. Your friendship with Carlos grew, but you kept it private. It wasn’t until the second last race of the season, nearly four months after you and Charles called things off, did you decide to show up in support of Carlos.

God did you regret that. If you had known the Drive to Survive production team was still hanging around, you probably would have stayed home. Instead, you gave them the last little bit of drama they needed before calling it a wrap. 

Charles spotted you first, which wasn’t ideal. You hadn’t shown up with Carlos, but he was expecting you. Charles, on the other hand, stopped in his tracks and took his sunglasses off, narrowing his eyes at you as you walked in his direction.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Charles asked, clear annoyance on his face. To him, you were a headache with legs. He thought he’d never have to see you again.

You weren’t going to let his attitude get to you. If anyone was going to be the bigger person you made sure it was you. You smiled sweetly at him, not even bothering to stop to give him the time of day as you just pointed at the Ferrari motorhome. 

“You can’t go in there,” Charles scoffed, pivoting on his heels to follow you. He reached for your arm and you were quick to pull it from his grasp. 

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you snarled.

“Then don’t show up at the fucking race,” Charles shot back. “Why are you here, Y/N? You have no reason to be here.”

“I’m just here to support my favourite Ferrari driver.” 

The confusion on his face was priceless. 100% he was wondering if you were there in hopes of winning him back.

But Carlos’ timing couldn’t have been more perfect. He was walking from the other end of the paddock and picked up his pace the second he saw you and Charles already bickering. He didn’t want you two to cause a scene, but he might have already been too late.

When you spotted Carlos, you genuinely forgot about the Monegasque driver standing right next to you. Your hard features softened. Your scowl shifted into a smile. Your shoulders relaxed. 

Before Carlos could even greet you, Charles let out a chuckle of disbelief. “Don’t tell me you’re fucking my teammate.” 

“Not yet,” you shrugged. “I’ll see how well he does today first.”

It was a joke that Charles took literally. Once Carlos finally reached you, he placed a hand on your back and asked how your drive in was, giving Charles the cold shoulder. 

Charles couldn’t believe what was right in front of him. His ex and his teammate. Friends? Possibly more than friends? He scoffed, pulling you both from your private conversation, “This is a fucking joke.”

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” You challenged him. Carlos picked up on your venomous tone and pulled you closer into his side, ready to intervene if he needed to.

Charles just looked at Carlos and slid his sunglasses back on, “Have fun with her, mate. She’s a wild card.”

“Can we just all be civil?” Carlos asked, looking between you and Charles. Neither of you said anything. That wasn’t something either of you could promise. Carlos eventually sighed, staring right at Charles, “She won’t bother you.”

“You don’t speak for me,” you snapped your head towards him. 

Carlos wasn’t about to put up with your attitude right now. You were annoyed, your morning hadn’t started off the way you wanted and you were dangerously close to taking it out on the wrong person. Carlos recognised this and spoke directly to you, “You won’t bother him, right?” 

You didn’t want to ruin Carlos’ day. So you nodded, agreeing to stay out of Charles’ way granted he offered you the same courtesy. 

Charles stalked off immediately following that conversation. And he was true to his word, he stayed out of your way. 

The only problem was, the fucking Netflix crew managed to capture most of that interaction. Even if they didn’t get audio, they didn’t need it. They could fill in the blanks and turn this situation into a goddamn soap opera. 

It didn’t help that when Carlos landed a podium, you were right there against the barriers. Neither of you had crossed that line yet and had remained friends for the last few months, but the adrenaline was high. Carlos had one of the best races of his life and you were genuinely so excited to have witnessed it, to have been there to cheer him on, to be one of the first people he saw when he parked the car at the end of the race.

You made the first move, and even then, it wasn’t really a move. You kissed his helmet, barely able to contain the grin on your face as the crowd behind you exploded for him. 

You didn’t expect him to pull his helmet off, that’s for damn sure. But he did. He handed it towards a team member for temporary safe keeping and grabbed your face, crashing his lips against yours. There were about twenty other people he could have celebrated with first, you were only a friend up until now, but he wanted to kiss you in front of thousands of people. 

Charles never did that.

He’d hug you, maybe, if you weren’t in a bad mood and were actually watching from the garage. He wouldn’t jump into your arms like he did the rest of the team. He wouldn’t make it public that he was elated to see you in the crowd. He’d squeeze your arm or your waist, that was it.

Carlos didn’t think twice about the repercussions. He didn’t think about twitter and instagram blowing up as CARLOS CELEBRATES WITH CHARLES LECLERC’S EX-GF topped all of the trends. He didn’t think about how bad this would look for you or the team, or for the dynamic between him and Charles moving forward.

The upside was there was only one race left. One race, which of course you attended. And then you two were in the clear. 

During the winter break, you were in your own little world. Carlos treated you how you knew you deserved to be treated. He didn’t raise his voice at you, or if he did it was only in a playful way or when you had stolen the remote and changed the film when he stood up to use the bathroom during a movie night.

Slowly but surely, you were falling in love with the Spanish driver. 

It was a whirlwind romance that came out of nowhere and knocked you off your feet. The two of you were on cloud nine from December to March. Four months where the world beyond his house didn’t matter. The drama didn’t matter. The impending tension as you moved closer and closer to the start of the new season, didn’t matter.

You didn’t even care that Netflix painted you out to be a villain. At this point, the majority of Charles' fans couldn’t stand you and about half of Carlos’ fans didn’t trust you. Paddock Bunny, you were called. Hopping from driver to driver. 

But people didn’t know about the toxic relationship you shared with Charles. No one outside of the Paddock knew you two were at your absolute worst when you were together. If they did, they’d probably be over the fucking moon to hear how Carlos was treating you in comparison. They’d probably stop rooting for the Monegasque driver. 

What a sight that would be. People burning their 16 caps and CL merch because they found out how awful of a partner he was. It would never happen, but you could dream.

You were tempted to make that dream a reality when you showed up at testing in Bahrain with Carlos. You had so much dirt on Charles, so many stories that would ruin him and the Leclerc name that when he took one look at you in the paddock that first weekend in March, you nearly sent in an anonymous email to Sky Sports. 

Carlos talked you out of it, telling you that you couldn’t drag his teammate through the mud.

But Charles was such a fucking asshole. He stayed out of your way, sure, but if your paths did cross he made you feel so inferior, like you weren’t allowed to be in the Paddock. He’d make snarky little comments to other drivers or to members of his team, calling you names you didn’t want to repeat, all because you were with Carlos now. He treated you like you were scum of the earth. 

So…it was similar to when you were dating. The only difference now was you couldn’t scream at him or cause a fight when you felt the tension building. You couldn’t even attempt to work through it, even temporarily. Both of you just carried all of this weight and frustration on your shoulders, both angry at the other for the stupidest fucking reasons. 

Flash forward to today's race when it finally came to a boiling point. 

Charles won. Carlos finished second. It was a Ferrari 1-2 at the second race of the season. This would do wonders for the constructors and for both of them. You hated Charles but you would always be a Ferrari fan. You supported Carlos so in some way, you were sort of forced to support Charles. At an arm's length and through tooth and nail, but you did want to see both drivers succeed. 

When both drivers made their way out of the cars, Carlos found you first. He kissed you, of course he did. He was glistening with sweat, his name was being called from all angles but he found you and he kissed you like there wasn’t a single person watching.

He made his way down the line, celebrating with his team and Charles did the same. They exchanged a hug as they met in the middle of the line and it was only a few seconds later when Charles was right in front of you. 

He didn’t even look your way. He hugged the person to your left and then grabbed the arms of the person to your right, bypassing you completely. 

You weren’t expecting a celebratory hug, you certainly didn’t want one. But the cameras had caught the lack of interaction and now once again your name was trending. CHARLES GIVES EX THE COLD SHOULDER AFTER FERRARI 1-2.

You looked like a fucking idiot. It didn’t help that someone with a camera captured a clip of you staring at Charles like he had just spit on you or insulted your entire family. The disgust and betrayal on your face was evident. 

Carlos tried to tell you that it wasn’t that big of a deal. Maybe he just didn’t see you. You were right in the front and you were the same fucking height, of course he saw you. 

So you were pissed the entire drive to the hotel. Carlos asked you not to say anything. He practically begged for the two of you to just go back to your room, but the moment you stepped out of the elevator, your mind was made up. 

Now here you were, banging on his hotel room door. The underside of your first was starting to turn numb and no matter what, Carlos couldn’t get you to stop. Each time he tried to grab your hand or pull you away, you elbowed him in the side or yanked your arm out of his grasp. 

“Open the fucking door!” You yelled, landing one more exceptionally hard hit on it. Carlos winced at the contact. Your hand was going to hurt in the morning, but the fact that you paid the pain no attention right now said a lot. How often did you find yourself in this situation?

But it worked. Charles probably had enough of the disturbance and he swung the door open. You had half a mind to land a hit directly to his nose, but that wouldn’t look good for his image. 

He didn’t even look at Carlos. His gaze hardened as he met your stare, “What do you want?”

“I don’t want anything!” You jabbed a finger against his chest, pushing him further into his own hotel suite. Carlos tried to grab your arm and pull you back but it just resulted in him being dragged into the room after you. There was no stopping you when you were this outraged. You scanned over Charles, hating his I’m-too-good-for-this-shit, expression he wore. “What I need is for you to get your fucking head out of your ass.”

“What are you talking about?”

 The nerve of this man. 

“Have you not looked at your phone recently?” You tried not to scream at him, but it was hard to keep your voice at a respectful volume when the person who caused you so much grief and anger was standing a foot away from you. “Everyone saw the way you completely ignored me at the end of your race. I’m a fucking laughing stock on social media right now.”

Charles nodded, his jaw clenched, “Have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe, you brought this on yourself by sleeping with your ex’s teammate?”

You turned over your head at Carlos who was now leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets as he watched you two hash it out. This was probably a long time coming. This was also the longest you had gone without fighting, you had a lot of pent up aggression and you were certain he did too. 

Carlos knew that there was a time and a place to step in, so he just watched carefully, listening for when one of you crossed a line. He couldn’t place a bet for who would be the first to do so, but he knew it was coming. 

You stepped forward, expecting Charles to step backwards to keep the gap, but he was never one to back down from you. That was your problem, one of them at least. You were both too stubborn. 

“I don’t know why you think this is just a fucking hook up, Charles, but let me remind you that it’s not. I love him-”

“I love you too,” Carlos added from behind you and your heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t humanely possible to grow tired of hearing those words. 

But again, time and place.

Charles snickered when you held up a hand towards your boyfriend, a nonverbal reminder that now was probably not the time to interject, even if he did so with the sweetest intentions. 

You focused back on Charles. “I love him, so I’ll be sticking around for a while whether you like it or not.” And just to get under his skin, you added, “I know love is a word you’re probably not familiar with-”

Charles dragged his hands over his face. It was his turn to raise his voice as he cut you off mid-sentence before you could finish whatever painful truth he didn’t want to hear, “Why the fuck are you here?”

“I want you to apologise for completely disregarding me earlier.

“What are you on about, Y/N?”

You hated the way he said your name. Like each individual letter was laced with its own personal brand of venom. 

“Are you kidding me?” He had to be playing dumb to piss you off even more. “I was at the barrier and you hugged every other person around me and didn’t even have the audacity to look at me. I don’t need a hug, Charles, but maybe get off your fucking high horse and show some fucking appreciation when I show up in support of Ferrari! Put on a fucking act when the cameras are around, at least.”

Charles raked his eyes over your body. Your chest was rising with each angered breath. He knew your heart was racing. He knew what you were like when you were riled up like this. 

He also knew that if you weren’t with Carlos, this fight would end very differently. 

He knew you would turn around and leave with Carlos when you finally got the last word in but if Carlos wasn’t glued to your side right now, you wouldn’t be leaving until Charles fucked you so hard, you forgot why you were even mad in the first place. 

He’d pin you against the wall to get you to stop talking and kiss every inch of the skin visible on your neck before his hand found a home on your throat. His other hand would work to keep your wrist glued to the wall to keep you from grabbing him. 

He’d tease you until you were begging for him to actually do something and even then, Charles would take his time with you. Sex with him was never easy. It wasn’t gentle or loving, it was rough and fueled by a variety of emotions, anger being the most prominent. 

But that wasn’t how this fight was going to end. Charles could rile you up all he wanted but at the end of the night, you’d go back to your room with Carlos. You could take the rest of your anger out on him in bed and he’d probably run you a fucking bubble bath afterwards and kiss your shoulders. He probably had a whole assortment of ways to make you forget why you were upset, wholesome ways. Ways that didn’t make you want to claw his eyes out. 

Charles hated the thought. 

He hated knowing that you could stand here and yell at him and get most of your frustration out and at the end of it, you had someone else to turn to. Someone to turn things around for the better. Whereas he had no one. He had to stand here and listen to you scream at him and when you left, he’d be alone. 

There would be no hate sex. No make up sex. No waking up the next morning with you in his arms. He wouldn’t be able to bury his face into the back of your neck, making you laugh softly when he muttered something about your hair being too long. He could no longer reach for your arm to pull you back on top of the covers when you tried to stand up to go take a shower. 

You two had some horrible days and a lot of insufferable nights. 

But the mornings were good.

Before anything else mattered, before either of you could remember why you were fighting twelve hours earlier, before a comment was said that negatively affected your mood for the next few hours. 

The mornings were fucking good and god did he miss that.

He wondered if you did too.

But you probably had the best mornings with Carlos. He probably made you breakfast in bed, something that Charles was always too tired to do. Carlos probably pulled you into the bathroom to shower with him whereas Charles always complained about the type of shampoo you used and how you hogged most of the water. Carlos probably invited you out to his events, his meetings, to run errands and Charles wouldn’t even consider letting you tag along, knowing that a fight would break out one way or another. 

You brought out the worst in each other. 

He should have walked away from you a long time ago.

He had enough experience with red flags to know that you were the worst of them.

Neither of you could explain why you put up with each other for so long. It wasn’t love, it was never love. What you had with Carlos was love.

Charles could admit he was envious. 

Why couldn’t you ever look at him the way you looked at his teammate? Why was it so easy for Carlos to make you laugh? Why did he walk in on conversations where Carlos was talking about you like you put the fucking sun in the sky? 

What did Carlos have that he didn’t? Besides patience. And a sense of humour. And the ability to admit when he was in the wrong. 

The more Charles thought about it, the more it sunk in that he wasn’t good for you.

He remembered when you first started dating and he wanted to be good for you. He wanted to be what you needed. He wanted to fall in love with you and he wanted you to fall in love with him in return.

He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when something in your relationship shifted for the worse, but it didn’t matter.

None of it mattered. 

This whole thing was fucking stupid. You kissing Carlos after he got second place was stupid, especially when he thought about how you never kissed him when he got a podium. You banging on his door hours after the race to yell at him was stupid. And now, you standing right in front of him while your boyfriend, his teammate, listened with caution in case he had to step in was fucking stupid. You could handle yourself, Charles knew that much.

You were still yelling at him about how he had completely disregarded you after the race. Charles zoned out for a second, something he often did when you raised your voice. All of these fights sounded the same, it didn’t matter what the current problem was. The biggest problem was always your relationship in general. The two of you should not have been allowed within ten feet of each other.

He promptly cut you off, “Y/N you are the absolute last person I want to see when I finish a race.”

“Well suck it up because I’m going to be around for a while,” your jaw tightened as you spoke. The lines in your forehead were making a reappearance. You were always scowling at him, Charles couldn’t remember the last time you looked relaxed.

“That doesn’t mean I need to put up with it.”

“Yes it fucking does,” you retorted. “I’m here for Carlos and here for Ferrari. You just so happen to be part of this fucking team so unfortunately for both of us, we can’t just avoid each other all season, Charles.”

“Well we can fucking try and you can start-” he gestured towards the door, “-by getting the hell out of my hotel room.”

You tugged at the roots of your hair, inhaling a deep breath, “Oh my fucking god-”

“Can you please control her?” Charles turned his line of sight towards Carlos. Carlos looked like he didn’t want to be dragged into the middle of this, but now he had no choice.

“Control me?” You yelled. “Oh you pretentious, arrogant fucking bastard-”

“Come on, Y/N,” Carlos stepped forward, cutting you off before you could start swearing in French. He reached for your hand and you were harsh in pulling it away from him. The last thing you wanted right now was to be touched, though.

“No, mate you’re doing it wrong,” Charles interjected. A wicked smirk on his lips as he stared at you but spoke directly to Carlos. “You can’t grab her like that, she doesn’t like it. She’ll only listen if you go for the throat, choke the words out of her-”

Now Carlos was getting involved. You made a swing towards Charles, aiming for his face but Carlos grabbed you and pulled you back, his arms tightening around your waist and using his strength to his advantage, something he didn’t like doing with you. He practically pushed you towards the door before squaring up with Charles himself, nearly chest to chest. 

Carlos was fuming over what Charles had said. He knew your relationship was toxic, but he couldn’t believe that after months, almost a year, of it being over, Charles could still say something so degrading, so disrespectful. 

And Charles was smirking. He thought this was entertaining. He knew Carlos wouldn’t hit him. He knew Carlos wouldn’t let you hit him. He also knew that you weren’t going to be able to get the last word in, something you thrived on. 

“I’m not wrong,” Charles said quietly, eyes darting towards you for a brief second as you stood with your arms crossed by the door. Charles gestured towards his own neck, “Give it a try sometime. She likes it.”

“How about you just stop talking about her, yeah?” Carlos suggested, with an underlying bitter tone that wasn’t usually present when he opened his mouth. “Don’t talk about her, don’t talk to her, don’t even look at her.”

He made the mistake of looking at you right when he said that and Carlos raised his hand to push on Charles’ chest, forcing his attention away from you. 

He didn’t want to fight with teammate, but he was going to stand up for you no matter what. Time and place, he decided, and right now, Charles had to be put in his fucking place.

“She’s not worth it, mate,” Charles chuckled. 

“It’s the other way around, mate.” Carlos mimicked. “You’re not worth it. At least Y/N was able to figure that out.”

They both flinched when the door slammed. Carlos turned over his shoulder to see that you were no longer standing there. You stormed out of the room. Charles tried to tell him to just leave you be, you did this all the time, but Carlos wasn’t Charles. 

He followed you out and found you furiously pressing the elevator button, tapping your foot impatiently on the carpeted floor. Carlos knew better than to reach for your arm at this point, so he settled for putting his hand on your waist and stepping forward until his chest was against you. You felt the tension in your shoulders dissipate when he slowly snaked his arm around your stomach, pulling you against him. 

You dropped your head to his shoulder, eyes closed and you whispered, “I hate him.”

“I know,” Carlos pressed a kiss to your temple. 

What a fucking difference. Usually you were screaming ‘I hate you’ and you’d hear those three words repeated back. Sometimes in French. Sometimes in Italian. Once, Charles took you by surprise and screamed it in Spanish. Whatever the context, whatever the language, whatever the fight, you’d always hear it back.

You raised your hand to press your palm against his cheek. Carlos hugged you tighter against him and you stayed like that until the elevator doors finally opened on the twelfth level. 

You pressed the button to take you to the lobby and Carlos raised an eyebrow, knowing the room you shared was on the tenth floor.

“I need air,” you answered his wordless question. “Just for a minute. I need to take a walk.”

“I don’t want you walking around by yourself this late,” Carlos was worried for your safety and that was such a foreign concept to you. When you told Charles you need to go for a walk he would say ‘I don’t care’ or ‘don’t come back’. He wasn’t concerned about what could happen to you when you stepped outside.

You extended your hand out to grab his, giving him an assuring squeeze, “I’ll be fine, I promise.”

Carlos walked you to the doors of the lobby, not letting your hand go until he had to. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and slid the extra room key into your jacket pocket. He then took hold of your face, tilting it upwards so he could look you directly in the eyes.

“I love you, mi cielo,” he kissed your lips feverishly. “Call me if you need me to pick you up.”

Mi cielo. My sky. My heaven. Carlos started calling you that soon after you started dating. When you asked what it meant, he said that he was calling you his own personal slice of heaven right here on earth. 

That’s when you knew you loved him. 

You assured him once more you’d be fine before stepping outside, letting the midnight air hit your cheeks. Your jacket was thin, but you didn’t plan on staying out for very long. With your hands shoved in your pockets, you made your way down the sidewalk, replaying the last few minutes in your head.

You really did hate Charles. 

Everything about him infuriated you beyond reason. 

You couldn’t stand his arrogant attitude. How he couldn’t own up to his own mistakes, in his personal life, in your relationship, on the track. Charles just couldn't be wrong. All of his problems were always someone else's fault.

You remembered the first horrible fight you got into. You had bickered here and there, all couples did, but when he returned home after a race weekend and you showed him the text you got from Pierre, one that read ‘did you and Charles break up?’ you lost it on him.

He cheated on you. Why the fuck else would Pierre be asking you that? There were no photos, no proof, and Pierre refused to go into detail, but you knew. You could practically smell the infidelity on him as he walked through the door. 

When gaslighting you into thinking you were crazy didn’t work, Charles tried to blame you for his actions. He tried to say that you didn’t pay him enough attention, that you should be joining him during race weekends so he didn’t feel tempted to seek affection somewhere else. It was your fault he cheated. 

And you loved him, well you thought you did, so you started accompanying him more often. 

God did that just make things worse.

Everything was a constant downhill in your relationship. There was no silver lining. There were good moments, but they were always overshadowed by the impending dark clouds. It was never easy for you two. 

And you weren’t perfect either, you could admit you had flaws and contributed to your relationship falling apart. You didn’t trust Charles, as much as you wanted to, you never did. There was no solid foundation for you two to ever stand on so you shouldn’t have been surprised when the cracks started forming. 

You became annoyed with every little thing he did, or said, or even the way he looked at you. Qualities of his you used to admire soon because the reasons why you struggled to be in the same room as him. 

The two of you were constantly at each other's throats. It was unhealthy and everyone around you saw it. 

His team was probably ecstatic when they heard you broke up. They didn’t have to worry about a blow up in the garage or Charles being in a bad mood during meetings. 

No one could have expected you’d show up again with Carlos. 

The team walked on eggshells, watching to see if you and Charles would return to your ways, bickering, arguing, yelling. 

But that didn’t happen during testing. Nor did it happen during the first race weekend, or the second. There were only petty comments made behind the others back, but nothing that caused the two of you to get into each other's faces again. 

You thought maybe you could work with this. Just having to see Charles. As long as you didn’t talk directly to him, everything would be fine. That’s what the whole team was hoping for, at least. 

And then this bullshit after the race happened and you couldn’t bite your tongue anymore. You needed Charles to understand where you were coming from, why he couldn’t just brush you off in front of the public eye like that. 

There was so much more you wanted to say to him too, you wondered why you even stormed out. 

Going for a walk and getting air wasn’t helping. If anything, the anger stirred inside of you and the more time you spent not letting it out, the more worked up you became. 

Maybe that’s why you found yourself hitting button 12 instead of 10 when you returned to the hotel. You needed to get one or two more things off your chest and then you’d be fine, then you could go back to Carlos. 

You knocked on the door, politely this time. Not like it mattered because he probably looked through the peephole to see who was standing in the hall. 

The door swung open. Charles rolled his eyes after checking to see if Carlos had followed you up. When he realised that you were alone, he pushed the door open some more, just enough for you to step in.

“I take it you’re not done?” Charles’ assumption was correct, but it was a little surprising that he invited you in without you needing to cause a scene. Maybe he had more he wanted to say to you as well.

He grabbed the remote off the edge of the counter and paused the movie that was playing. You recognised it instantly. He was watching The Princess Bride. One of your favourite movies. 

There’s no fucking way he was just scrolling through the tv guide and came across it. He had to purposely search and pay for it. 

You raised your eyebrows and pointed at the television, completely ignoring his question, “Princess Bride?”

He shrugged, “It was just on.”

Bull-fucking-shit. 

“I thought you hated this movie,” you recalled the number of times you tried to get him to watch it with you and he never would. 

Charles shrugged again, “Well you seem to like it.”

“So you’re just now giving it a chance eight months after we’ve broken up?”

“Would you rather I not watch it?”

“I would have rathered you watched it with me when I fucking asked you too!” It only took ten seconds for you to raise your voice at him. “Jesus, Charles, when I told you it was my favourite movie you went out of your fucking way to never let me watch it.”

“You’re being dramatic. I never did that.”

“Don’t gaslight me.”

“Stop using that fucking word,” He had heard it so many times during your fights.

“Stop giving me a reason to.”

And just like that, you had fallen back into your previous cycle. Pointless, stupid, meaningless fights. Over a movie for fucks sakes. But you were both so easy to piss off. No one worked you two up quite like the other. 

“Why are you here?” Charles asked, shifting the conversation back to you. “Shouldn’t you be with Carlos?”

You caught the lingering jealousy in his tone. The way he waved his hand to the side, acting as though you dating his teammate didn’t bother him, when in reality it did. 

But Charles also caught the way your breath caught in your throat. He noticed how you shifted your balance from one leg to the other, something you only did when you were nervous. You may not have been a good pair, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know you. 

“Carlos has no idea that you’re here right now, does he?” Charles didn’t even have to ask. He knew the answer. 

Maybe that’s why he stepped forward slowly, eyes raking over your body like they had done so many times before. Maybe because he knew Carlos didn’t know your whereabouts, Charles felt confident enough to step around you and tug at the sleeves of your jacket until it was no longer on your body. You didn’t know why you let him. You came here to yell at him some more and in a split second, in the blink of a fucking eye, the atmosphere shifted. 

Charles reached for your wrist and you reacted like you did every other time someone touched you, by flinching away and putting some space between your bodies. 

But that wasn’t going to work with Charles. 

He paid no attention to your reserved tendencies and just grabbed your other arm instead, gripping your wrist and turning you to face him before you could react fast enough. You attempted to pull away, you even pushed on his chest, but Charles was unphased. He just waited a few seconds, letting you think you’d win this and then he grabbed your other wrist and spun you around so your back was pressed against his chest, your arms crossed over your body like an X. 

Charles dipped chin so his mouth was right by your ear. His breath was hot against your skin. There was no doubt in your mind that he could feel your heart racing through the clothes on your back.

“Mon amour,” Charles spoke so softly, but you didn’t let his gentle tone fool you. Neither did you let his name for you affect you the way it used to. “Let’s stop fighting, oui?”

“Don’t call me that,” you pulled against his hold but his grip was too tight.

Charles chuckled and you felt a knot form in the pit of your stomach, “What would you rather I call you? Mi cielo?”

“Absolutely fucking not,” you snapped.

“Yeah, I can’t believe he calls you that,” his lips travelled dangerously close along your skin. You could feel goosebumps rise over every inch of your skin. “You were always picky about pet names, but Carlos doesn’t know that, does he?”

“Don’t-”

You lost the last of your argument when Charles suddenly let you go, only to pin you against the nearby wall instead. His hand went to your throat, keeping you in place without applying any pressure. Before you could push him off of you, he grabbed both of your wrists and placed them above your head. 

This was a position the two of you had found yourselves in more often than not. 

But you were broken up now. You were with Carlos. You loved Carlos. Charles had absolutely no fucking right to be trying to pull a move like this.

And you had no right to be enjoying it.

“Answer me,” Charles’ eyes darkened. “Does Carlos know what you like? Does he know how to turn you on, mon amour?” He leaned in, his lips hovering right over yours, “Does he know you still think about me?”

“Let go of me,” your voice was barely audible, like you had to convince yourself to say the words and even then, you weren’t even sure if what you were demanding was what you really wanted.

Charles noticed how you avoided each of his questions, which in itself was a good enough answer to all of them. 

When he released the hold on your neck, you expected his other hand to follow. You weren’t surprised, however, when his grip on your wrists only tightened. His fingers trailed down your side, stopping to push up the hem of your shirt. You shivered under his touch and it gave Charles a bit of an ego boost, the confidence he needed to go further. 

You wanted him. Even if you said you didn’t, the way you reacted to the faintest touch told him otherwise. 

He needed to hear it though. He’d tease you until the sun came up, he’d done it before. What Charles wanted was to hear you beg. He wanted you to tell him how desperate you were for him, how these last eight months without him had been unbearable. 

He had no idea what your sex life with Carlos was like. He didn’t want to know. It didn’t matter. Charles knew he would always be the best fuck of your life. No one would ever take that title from him.

He undid the button of your jeans, all while keeping his eyes locked on yours. Waiting to see how you’d respond, if you’d put up more of a fight or not.

You were the one that showed up here, alone, after an argument. 

You may have been broken up, but if there was one thing Charles knew, it was recognising a fucking pattern.

He then dragged your zipper down next. He traced his fingers along the seam of your underwear and he couldn’t stop himself from glancing at them to see what colour they were.

Of course they were red. 

“For Carlos,” you told him, reminding him that you had a boyfriend. You wore a matching lingerie set for your boyfriend. “He likes me in red.”

“Of course he does,” Charles tossed that thought aside, “It’s a shame he won’t be able to enjoy them.”

He slipped the tips of his fingers past the seam. It was embarrassing how your back arched off the wall. Charles made sure your legs were spread by keeping a knee pressed between them and he looked pleased with himself as his hand travelled further down your panties.

His hand rested just above your clit, he didn’t need to go any further to know you were soaking. Charles knew exactly what to do and say to turn you on, to leave you craving him. His nose brushed against yours and if you tilted your chin up the slightest bit, your lips would connect.

But Charles dipped his head to attach his lips to your neck instead, the spot where your throat met your jawline. You craned your head upwards, automatically giving him easier access as his teeth grazed your skin. 

Charles knew your body better than you did. He knew that the second he took your earlobe between his teeth, your breaths would become staggered. He knew that the tighter he held onto your wrist, the more you gave in, you always gave in. He knew that the moment his fingers brushed over your clit, a helpless whimper would pass through your lips.

Charles knew the pattern by heart. He knew you. 

So when he did all of that and Carlos’ name didn’t cross your mind, you knew you were screwed. You should have been trying harder to push Charles off of you. You shouldn’t have even showed up here in the first place.

He started massaging your clit, slowly yet confident in his actions and you were absolutely throbbing. Charles didn’t like gentle so the fact he was taking his time right now, purposely trying to work you up even more, only pissed you off further.

Charles dropped his mouth, moving to suck on another sensitive part of your neck. He debated leaving a mark, something you’d struggle to hide when you eventually, inevitably, returned to Carlos.

“Charles,” you swallowed, legs shaking as he focused all his energy on your clit. Rubbing the nub beneath the pads of his fingers. 

“Oui, mon amour?” His voice was sickeningly sweet, it was an act. Nothing about this, about him, was sweet. He lifted his head, nose brushing against yours as he dropped his forehead to yours. “Tell me what you want.”

It took a second, but you managed to form a single coherent thought, forcing the name out through clenched teeth, knowing just how much it would get under Charles’ skin.

“Carlos.”

Charles had the audacity to laugh. His lips hovered over yours, barely touching, but close enough that you found yourself trying to lean forward to connect them. 

“Wrong answer.”

Without warning, Charles’s hand dipped further and he plunged two fingers inside of you. He watched with a smug look on his face as your jaw fell open and a helpless inhale was all that came from you. You attempted to clench your legs together but Charles made sure that his knee kept them apart as he slowly started to slide his digits in and out.

“You always take me so well, don’t you?” His praise sent a wave of pleasure straight to your core. He kissed your jaw softly, “So tight, Y/N. Does Carlos not know how to fuck you?”

He wasn’t looking for an answer. And it wasn’t like you were in the state of mind to give him one. Charles curled his fingers inside of you and your hips bucked against his hand, desperate to get as much out of this as you possibly could. 

He was relentless with his fingers and stubborn in the way he held your wrists above your head when all you wanted to do was touch him. Each time his fingers entered you it was driven by fury and lust, a dangerous combination that you knew so well. 

He was purposely keeping his lips off of you now, wanting to watch you crumble from just his fingers alone. He’d tease you with his breath hitting your lips, or grazing his mouth along your jaw, but he wouldn’t give you what you desperately wanted. 

This was a game to him. Bring you to the edge until you had no choice but to beg.

He added a third finger without so much of a thought, loving the way your walls clenched around him. Charles wished he didn’t have to use his fingers to fuck you, but he could be patient. He could play the long game tonight.

And then he stopped, his fingers deep inside you but refused to move them. You swallowed and attempted to rock your hips against his hand, but Charles wouldn’t budge.

“You’re too quiet,” he said, head slightly tilted. It was true, though. There were no helpless moans or whimpers coming from the back of your throat. No pleas to go faster, harder. You were biting your tongue and holding back.

It was because you didn’t want him to know how desperate you were. It was the last bit of pride you were holding onto, but you weren’t going to tell him that.

“Maybe you just don’t turn me on the way you used to.”

He laughed cruelly as he started his assault on your pussy again, curling his fingers and getting just the right angle, knowing what you said was bullshit. Charles smirked, “We both know that's a lie.”

“Fuck me,” Your head fell back against the wall, your legs were shaking. Charles was the only thing keeping you standing.

“Ask nicely and maybe I will.”

“I’m not asking you for anything.”

“That’s fine, mon amour,” Charles dragged his thumb over your clit and that familiar sensation started to build in your centre. “I will happily watch you cum all over my fingers again, and again, and again, until you forget your own name.”

He rammed his fingers in you again, picking up his pace. 

“Or better yet,” Charles left a delicate kiss right below your ear, applying more pressure to your clit, “Until you forget his name.”

That should not have been what did it for you, Charles dragging your relationship through the dirt, but the second those words left his mouth you were gone. 

Your orgasm hit you hard and fast. What was worse was the strangled moan you failed to keep back that was music to Charles’ ears. You pulsed around him and he continued to fuck you with his fingers through it all, not letting up until you were shaking and even then he just brought them to a halt and left them inside you.

Charles released the grip he had on you and your wrists were sore and tender. You didn’t have to look at them to know how red they were, and in all honesty, the pain you’d feel tomorrow was the last thing on your mind.

You were breathless, staring up at Charles and trembling each time one of his fingers brushed against your sensitive walls. He leaned forward, once again hovering his lips over yours, both of you wondering who would make the move to close the gap once and for all.

Him fingering you was one thing. It was pure sexual tension built up over the course of god knows how long. But by kissing him, this moment would become so much more intimate. Less lust, more desire. A kiss was supposed to be shared with the person you loved, it was supposed to make you feel safe and adored.

And you didn’t love Charles.

But you kissed him anyway.

With his hand still down your pants, you took that daring step to press your lips against his. It was rough and frantic and your tongues were clashing as you held onto the side of his face, relishing in the feeling of his stubble beneath your fingers.

Charles didn’t let you enjoy this for very long. He pulled back, keeping your jaw between his forefinger and thumb as he forced your mouth open. His thumb traced along your lower lip and as he slowly slid his fingers out of you, past your aching folds, you recognised the deviant look in his eyes. 

Charles brought his fingers, soaked with your juices, up to your lips. The sight of you licking yourself off of him turned him on more than anything else ever could. This was a mess he created and you were cleaning it up, without so much as a verbal instruction. 

He forced his fingers into your mouth, suppressing a moan when your tongue swirled around his digits. He could see the tears well up in yours as he pushed them as far back as his knuckles would allow, getting off on the control he held over you. 

That’s all it ever was. Charles needed to be in control. You wouldn’t have had a problem with that if that desire of his didn’t extend past the bedroom, but it always did. 

Charles pulled his fingers out of your mouth when he noticed you struggling to breathe around them. 

It was safe to say that neither of you what to do next. This wasn’t like all of the other times you fought and made up with sexual acts. You weren’t supposed to be his to fight with anymore. You shouldn’t have caved as quickly as you did. 

He wasn’t holding you anymore. Nothing was keeping you from pushing him away and heading towards the door. You could storm out of here and pretend like none of this happened, like your boyfriend's teammate wasn’t just knuckles deep inside of you. 

But you didn’t leave.

You stood with your back against the wall, eyes locked on Charles as the same thoughts ran through his mind. He didn’t want you to leave. The longer he kept you here, the more time you spent away from Carlos. Fuck Carlos, he thought. Fuck his teammate for stealing you from him. 

Charles still wanted to hear you beg. 

All it took was a microscope raise of his eyebrows and you knew you weren’t going anywhere. Charles feverishly reached for the hem of your shirt and pulled it off your body, swearing under his breath when he saw the red lace bra you had on. That you wore for Carlos. 

It had to go. 

Before he could rip the material off of you, you grabbed his shirt and peeled it off his body. If you were shirtless, it was only fair that he was too.

And then it was a race to see who could get the others clothes off fastest. Charles’ lips attacked your neck as he pushed your jeans down as much as he could, relying on you to step out of them and kick them to the side. You unzipped his joggers and he stepped out of them, hearing him groan when you palmed his painfully hard dick through his briefs. 

He cupped your panties, feeling how soaked you were through them. He had half a mind to fuck you against the wall, but he wasn’t going to give you what you wanted that easily.

Charles had to fight with himself to step away from you and when he did you were confused. You stood with your back against the wall as you watched him walk backwards towards the bed, the outline of his cock constricted against the thin material.

He sat on the edge of the bed, legs spread as they hung off the end of it. His palms rested against the blanket as he leaned backwards and nodded his head, gesturing you to follow.

And you did. Of course you did. Charles was intoxicating as much as he was toxic. You couldn’t get enough and for that reason alone, he would be the death of you. 

You stood between his legs, arms draped over his shoulders as Charles took in the sight of your body, your curves that he had had memorised, the red lace that was giving him a headache. 

He reached around you and unclasped your bra, throwing it to the side. Your fingers became tangled in his hair as he rolled one of your nipples between his fingers, pinching it until you moaned in pleasure, or pain, or both. 

Charles kept his hand on you, continuing to fondle and show attention to one of his favourite parts of you as he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the spot right between your breasts. 

He was being uncharacteristically slow. Something that never lasted, but you didn’t let yourself think about it as Charles took your other nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it like he had done so many times before. When he grazed his teeth over you, your knees momentarily buckled. You could feel the wetness pool between your legs again and you needed him to do something about it.

You dropped your knee to the edge of the bed, ready to straddle him, but Charles had other plans in mind. He stared up at you, devilishly handsome, dark hair pulled in all sorts of directions, an unruly sight that was making you want to drop to your knees.

And you probably would have, had he not spun you around and pulled you to sit on his lap. Charles could feel how wet you were as you soaked through your underwear and onto his bare thigh. He used one hand to force your legs apart as the other found your neck, not yet applying any sort of restraint but it was only a matter of time.

You were so focused on what Charles had in store for you that when he gave you a second to compose yourself, you found that you were staring directly at your own reflection. There was a mirror across from the bed. Charles wanted a show.

The sight of you settled on his thigh, his hand around your throat as the light caught the bulging muscles in his arm almost made you cum again. He was watching you, eyes glued to yours in the reflection.

“You’re going to ride me, chérie, understand?” Charles raised his lips to your ear, dragging his teeth over the lobe and you shivered in response. You could see his sly smile in the mirror, “You’re going to watch yourself as you get off just from my thigh.”

All you could do was nod. You weren’t in any position to argue, nor did you want to. 

So slowly, you started rocking your hips back and forth atop his leg, clenching where you could to feel any bit of friction. You found a steady pace, one that seemed to suffice as Charles watched silently, jaw locked and eyes never leaving yours. 

You wished you didn’t have your underwear on still, but that was half of the tease. Charles knew how desperate you were to feel his hard thigh against your folds, bringing you to the edge, but he also knew that you wouldn’t last if that was the case. He needed you to work for it. 

He grabbed your chin and roughly turned your face towards him, temporarily pulling your eyes off of the mirror. 

And then he was kissing you. Hot, open-mouthed kisses, his tongue diving inside of your mouth like he owned it. His suppressed groan only encouraged you to rock your hips faster, which you did. The ache between your legs was borderline painful as you became overstimulated, desperate to find that second high so soon after your first.  

Charles wasn’t going to help you at all. The most he did was trail his hand up your body, squeezing your breasts and tweaking your sensitive nipples until you cried out against his lips. Your body had been tense since you first stepped into his hotel room and now you were feeling all of your energy being sapped. And he hadn’t even fucked you. 

“Please,” your helpless whisper against his lips earned you a wicked smirk in response. 

“Please what?” 

His dick was rock hard against you and you wanted it inside of you. It wasn’t fair that he was making you wait for it when you knew he was just as desperate to fuck you. 

You hadn’t even noticed you stopped moving until Charles landed a light slap to your cheek, “I didn’t say you could stop.”

You fell into that rocking motion again. His grip on your breast was tight and it took all of you not to bury your face into his neck, knowing that you either had two choices. Look at him or look in the mirror. 

You opted for the mirror, looking at how dishevelled you were. Faded mascara under your eyes. Red marks on your neck from where Charles held his grip. The girl in the mirror was desperate for a release, swaying back and forth on Charles’ thick thigh.

It was the worst possible time for Charles’ phone to start ringing.

“Leave it,” your voice almost caught in your throat, but you were in no position to be making any demands. Charles kept one hand on you as he reached backwards, grabbing the phone he had left on his pillow before you showed up.

The glint in his eye was unmistakable. His smirk, mischievous. Usually Charles didn’t have a problem letting his calls go to voicemail, but he wasn’t about to do that and you knew why when you caught a glimpse of the screen, seeing your boyfriend's name on the caller ID.

Your heart sank to your stomach, but Charles sliding his hand towards your core was a good distraction.

“Don’t,” now you were begging, but for all the wrong reasons. “Don’t answer it, please.”

“It could be important,” Charles’ tongue slid across his teeth. “I suggest you stay quiet, mon amour.”

And then he answered it, bringing the phone up to his ear, “Carlos, what’s up?”

You probably could have stayed quiet had Charles not dropped his hands past the seam of the red lace once more. He wasted no time in rubbing his fingers over your clit and you inhaled a sharp breath, watching him with worried eyes through the reflection.

“I don’t even know why I’m asking,” you could hear Carlos through the receiver. You only hoped he couldn’t hear your staggered breathing, “but you don’t know where Y/N is, do you?”

Charles looked so calm and collected as he answered. You wanted to slap the smug expression off of him, “No, why would I know?”

It shouldn’t have surprised you how believable he sounded. Charles knew how to lie, he did it frequently throughout your relationship. This was the first time you were part of his lie.

And then he slipped his finger inside of you again, something that he wasn’t originally going to do, but with Carlos calling, he couldn’t pass up the opportunity. He wanted you to squirm, to make a sound, to do anything that Carlos would hear and leave him questioning when he hung up the phone.

You brought your hand to your mouth to silence yourself and Charles’ devious smile only grew. 

“She went out for a walk a while ago and she isn’t answering her phone now. I just want to make sure she's okay.”

You had completely abandoned your phone in your jacket pocket. It was sitting right by the door to the hotel room, forgotten about. 

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Charles plunged a second finger inside of you and started to scissor them. You bit the inside of your cheek so hard you could taste blood. Charles wasn’t going easy on you, he wanted you to be struggling right now. 

You had stopped rocking, trying to gain a little bit of control as Charles kept you angled against his chest to keep his fingers in you. He wanted to feel you dripping all over his thigh. He wanted his fingers to glisten when he pulled them out. 

“She could be lost-”

“Mate,” Charles cut him off harshly, simultaneously picking up the pace with his fingers. He so badly wanted to tell his teammate that you were safe, in good hands, falling apart on top of him. “Maybe it’s for the best. You’re better off without her.”

Leave it Charles to degrade you to your boyfriend while he rammed his fingers inside of you so hard you could feel it in your stomach. 

Carlos, bless his soul, you didn’t deserve him, scoffed into the phone, “Just let me know if you see her, okay?”

He pressed his thumb to your clit, meeting your stare in the mirror and taking a second before answering, just to bring you a little bit closer to the edge. Your legs were shaking, you could feel yourself climbing closer and closer to your release. Charles’ fingers in you, the attention he was giving your clit, the way he stared at you like he was challenging you to say something while he was on the phone, all of it was overwhelming in the best, and worst, ways. 

There was no singular thought in your mind except his fingers, and how good they felt, and how badly you wanted to cum. You clenched your walls around him and Charles momentarily forgot that Carlos was waiting for a response. The quietest groan passed his lips and he tried to cover it by clearing his throat.

“Yeah, will do,” Charles couldn’t hang up faster. He threw his phone to the side and focused all of his attention on your pussy. Dragging his fingers through your folds, rolling his thumb over your clit. 

With his other hand finally free, he raised it to your neck once more. You barely had time to take a breath before you could feel the sides of your windpipe becoming constricted under the pads of his fingers. The lack of oxygen gave you a headrush. Charles was taking complete control as you continued to sit on his lap and fuck his fingers for the second time, all while watching in the mirror. 

“You’re the worst,” you spoke through clenched teeth, dragging your hand up to tangle your fingers through the hair on the back of his head. 

Charles was unaffected by the words he had heard so many times before, “I told you to be quiet.”

A gasp left your mouth when he tightened his grip on your neck. You still attempted to find your voice “You- fuck, you didn’t want me to be quiet,” 

He chuckled, “You’re right.” 

His abuse on your clit became heavier as he pulled his fingers out of you agonisingly slowly. He nudged his leg against you, instructing you to get back to riding his thigh, you weren’t supposed to have stopped. 

“I can’t help it that I love the sounds you make for me,” he was practically growling. “I wanted Carlos to hear, he’s probably never heard them before.” 

You stayed quiet, feeling all logic leave you as it became increasingly harder to catch your breath or keep your eyes on him. 

Charles loosened his grip for a split second, just to give you a break, “Answer me when I talk to you. Carlos doesn’t know how to make you feel this good, does he?”

You shook your head, stammering out a quiet, “No.”

“Didn’t think so,” his hand tightened around your throat, constricting your airways once more.

The only sound that filled the room was your occasional whimpers between breathless moans of pleasure. Charles continued to praise you quietly in your ear, telling you how perfect you looked getting off from riding his thigh. It was the praise combined with his suffocating grip that brought you to edge but it was the way he feverishly rolled his thumb over your clit that pushed you over.

You came undone on his lap, your panties absolutely soaked as your pussy convulsed while waves of pleasure coursed through you. Charles let go of your throat and you leaned your head back against his shoulder, pulling on his hair as you rode out the rest of your high.

Charles waited a few seconds before taking your chin in his hand and turning you to face him. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, it was one of those rare gentle moments you two shared between rounds. 

“You think you have one more in you?” He asked, barely moving his mouth from yours. You couldn’t speak, but you could nod and you felt his lips curve into a smile, “Good girl.”

He flipped you around and got you situated at the top of the bed, your head falling back onto the pillows. Charles finally discarded the last bit of red lace you wore, they were absolutely ruined at this point, and he pulled his briefs off as well. 

If you had the energy in you, you would have reached for him, attempted to give him a half-assed hand job or possibly taken him in your mouth, but all you could do was lay there and watch as he fisted his hand around his already hard cock.

Charles pushed your legs apart until you were on full display for him. You were staining the hotel sheets with how wet you were, not like either of you cared. 

None of this mattered, it was all fucking stupid. The way the two of you ended up crawling back to each other after eight months of moving on was stupid. The way you found yourself desperate for him to fuck you after fingering you twice was stupid. The way Charles wanted to stare at you just a little bit longer because he knew this opportunity would never come again was stupid. All of it. 

Charles shifted towards you, dropping his body on top of yours but using his arm to keep himself propped up. You could feel the tip of his dick run through your folds, teasing you, because that’s all he seemed to know how to do. 

“You shouldn’t have come back here,” Charles whispered, staring down at you with a look that was filled with lust and loss, a combination you hadn’t seen before with him. 

“You shouldn’t have let me in,” you retorted, not about to take the sole blame for the situation you found yourselves in. 

“I’ll always let you in.”

There it was. The sprinkle of good hidden beneath the cascading tsunami of bad. 

“Don’t say that,” you shook your head, swallowing when he inched his cock into you slowly, taking his goddamn time because he knew how much you hated it. 

“I mean it.” Charles’ voice was hoarse as you watched his features tighten. He pressed his forehead against yours, sliding out again right before you could feel all of him. “We could have been good together, Y/N, we could have worked through our problems. Instead you ran directly to Carlos.”

You didn’t entertain that idea for a second. The two of you would have never been on the right terms. Years of couples counselling couldn’t fix what went wrong. You were each other's worst nightmare, your own individual walking red flags that should have been avoided at all costs.

But that was Charles’ favourite colour and you looked the best in it. 

“Carlos loves me,” you said, which was most definitely the wrong thing to say as Charles dragged the tip of himself over your centre again. 

He laughed, of course he laughed. Carlos loved you and yet here you were, about to let your ex-boyfriend, Carlos’ teammate, fuck you because you couldn’t work out your issues in a healthy way.

“And where is he now, hmm?” Charles asked, eyes darting all over your face. “More importantly, why aren’t you with him, chérie?”

You didn’t have an answer. Which was better for Charles anyway. He didn’t want to give you the chance to change your mind about what was to come next.

With no warning, and a quick snap of his hips, he rammed his dick inside of you. Despite how many times he had fucked you before, you never seemed to get used to his size. Charles stretched you out, making you gasp in relief of the feeling of finally being full. You loved his fingers, but they just didn’t compare. 

“Carlos can’t fuck you like I can, that’s why,” Charles answered his own question as your nails grazed his back before clenching onto his bicep. He kept at this steady pace for less than a minute, watching as your face twisted in pleasure, but he didn’t want to get ahead of himself. 

Your back arched off the mattress when he pulled out suddenly. He would always fucking do this. 

“Charles,” you groaned, mostly due to annoyance but your tone carried a delicate plea. That’s what he wanted after all, for you to beg for him. You swallowed your pride, you had no choice, “Please.”

“Please, what?” 

You were throbbing for him and his dick teasing your entrance did nothing to help.

“For the love of God, Charles, just fuck me already.”

That was as close to a beg as he was going to get.

Charles slammed back into you, so hard and fast that a scream left your throat. God you hoped these walls were soundproof. He didn’t give you a chance to adjust as he began to thrust in and out.

Your body couldn’t take it after already coming twice. Your legs shook beneath him as you clawed his back, digging your nails so deep into his skin you wouldn’t be surprised if you drew blood. 

Charles knew your body, he knew what angles to go from to hit all the right spots. Searing pleasure mixed with the pain from overstimulation had you helpless, but this was what you wanted. 

You looked up at him, recognising the familiar animalistic stare in his eyes. Charles reached above you to grip onto the headboard, his pace never faltering. You don’t know what came over you as you brought your hand to his cheek, but you watched as his gaze softened for that brief second.

Charles liked it rough, but you still craved that bit of tenderness to balance it out. Even as you took your anger out on each other, you wanted to feel his lips on yours. You wanted to swallow his breaths and pretend that for a minute, everything was fine.

You pulled his face towards yours and kissed him before you could think twice about it. His tongue fought yours and you felt his thrusts becoming unsteady. A sound emerged from the back of his throat as you kissed him like there was no tomorrow and you swore you could have came for a third time right then. 

Charles dropped his face to your neck when he felt himself starting to experience something other than lust and jealousy. He didn’t want to be craving you again, he didn’t want to fall back into this cycle.

“I fucking hate what you do to me, you know that right?”

“I know,” you dragged your fingers through the hair on the back of his head, body quivering when he kissed the spot below your ear. “And you know I hate you, right?”

“Oh I know,” He accentuated his words with a particularly hard thrust that had you reeling and it was only a few seconds later when you were seeing stars for the third time that night.

Your orgasm was earth-shattering. Almost like the entire world around you paused while waves of euphoria crashed through your entire body. Charles continued to fuck you through your high as you screamed his name, holding his body tight against yours.

Your pussy clenched around him as you shook with pleasure. Everything about you felt numb as Charles continued his violent thrusts, the headboard banging against the wall. He didn’t plan on slowing down, desperate to fuck the literal living daylight out of you for one last time, before you had to return to Carlos.

His dick twitched inside of you, followed by a string of French and English expletives under his breath against your skin. And then he was cumming too, releasing everything he had inside of you.

His body shook before he collapsed on top of your already exhausted body. Your heavy breaths were synchronised as you loosened your grip on his hair, switching to gently twisting your fingers through the dark strands instead.

Charles hummed into the crook of your neck and you braced yourself as he pulled out, wincing at how empty, and sore, you suddenly felt. You half expected Charles to stand up and go to the bathroom to give you the opportunity to leave without saying anything. You wouldn’t have even been surprised if he was blunt and told you to go back to Carlos.

But he rested his head on the pillow next to yours after pulling the covers over your bodies. He then turned your face gently so he could admire you and your post orgasmic glow. All lust behind his eyes had faded, replaced by something else now. Something you were never able to put a name to, something you once convinced yourself was love.

It was longing. A yearning desire for what used to be, what could have been. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, brushing his thumb against your cheek. 

You knew the right move would be to get up and leave. You fucked your anger out. Carlos was worried sick about you. You needed to leave. 

But you couldn’t bring yourself to. 

Not as you watched Charles’ eyelashes flutter softly until they closed, his hand still resting on the side of your face. You turned slightly to kiss the inside of his palm, and climbing out of bed did cross your mind. 

You probably would have, had Charles, in his half-asleep state, not muttered, “Stay.”

It wasn’t long until you fell asleep as well, the two of you facing each other throughout the duration of the night. At one point, his hand found your waist and that’s where it stayed. Charles lovingly touched you more in his sleep than he ever did while awake. 

You could have stayed in that bed for hours with him, but you had a rude awakening when you heard your phone ringing from the bedside table. Charles groaned, having woken up too, but he just waved the call off, letting you deal with it. 

Your eyes were still shut when your hand fumbled around the surface next to you until you found what you were looking for. You barely registered what you were doing or what time it was as you slid your finger across the screen to answer the call.

You cleared your throat, “Hello?”

“Y/N?”

Carlos saying your name in response jolted you awake. Your eyes widened when his accent flowed through the phone, the concern evident in the way he said your name.

“Carlos,” you sucked in a breath. “I-, I’m sorry, I was out-” you didn’t even know what time it was. You were struggling to come up with an excuse as to why you didn’t go back to the hotel room, something that he would believe, but nothing came to mind. “I didn’t- I mean-”

None of what you were saying made any sense, but as it would turn out, you didn’t need an excuse. There was a more pressing issue at hand. 

His heavy breath had your heart sinking to the pit of your stomach and you couldn't have prepared yourself for the next words to come out of his mouth.

“Why are you answering Charles’ phone?” 

this is so long im so sorry, if you made it this far..see u in hell

masterlist here

#charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc smut #f1 smut #f1 one shot #formula 1 x you #holllandtrash #nsfr #im so sorry #f1 requests #f1 #cl16 #cl16 x reader

[neytirisblog]

Hello there!! I hope you're doing great it's my first time ever requesting something so I'm kinda nervous writing this but can I request a Ao'nung x reader where they are dating but Ao'nung is ashamed of reader because she is a sully so when they are around his friend he kinda pushed her away until they're gone

Sorry if it's kinda weird hehe

Ashamed

pairings: aonung x sully!reader

warnings: kinda toxic aonung

summary: you figure out why he wanted your relationship a secret

a/n: hello! i hope you enjoy and i hope this is what you meant by the ask :) also it’s definitely not weird at all!!

You have been dating Aonung for two weeks but not the way you want to, Aonung insisted that you two should keep your relationship on the down low- meaning not to tell anyone.

Him doing that made you very upset, especially heartbroken. You wanted to be able to hold hands with him freely, hang out just the two of you.

You hated meeting in secret and only being able to see him mainly at night because the two of you were most likely busy during the day or he would just push you away until all your friends left.

You didn’t notice it at first when it started- when he wouldn’t talk to you when you were all around friends, when he would ignore you when you would speak to him but you just brushed it off thinking he didn’t hear you.

You didn’t know about him picking on Kiri, and you especially didn’t know about the fight between him and your brothers.

Your siblings all talked about how much they disliked him but you didn’t think much of it because he didn’t act that way when you were around and even when you two would talk he would never bring them up.

You just wanted to be able to express your love to him without it being kept a secret, it soon began to feel like he was ashamed.

Could it have been because you were not like him? Because you had five fingers and not four? He never said anything about it so you never really bothered to ask.

You had spoken to Aonung about telling everyone you were together and all he said was the same thing over and over, “ Soon we will tell everyone we are together, just have patience. "

You internally rolled your eyes when he said that- beginning to grow angrier and angrier as the days went by.

You couldn’t handle it anymore, and today was the day that really sent you off.

You and Tsireya, Roxto, Aonung, and a few other of their friends were all in the water laughing and making jokes.

You looked at Aonung a smile on your face which he didn’t return and quickly looked away, making you frown.

You hated it.

He ignored you the entire day, acting like you didn’t even exist. But then you started to notice the snarky comments he was sending your siblings.

Eventually the day came to an end and everyone was gone- except for Aonung, the two of you sat together in the sand.

“ What was that today? " You questioned, looking straight at him and the anger was evident in your voice.

“ What are you talking about? " He asked, a hint of confusion in his voice.

You rolled your eyes at his words, “ You were clearly ignoring me today, I mean I know you wanna keep us a secret but you can still talk to me. "

Aonung sighed and turned his head away from you, “ I wasn’t ignoring you. "

“ Did I do something wrong? Is it because you’re ashamed? Is that why you want to keep us a secret? " I asked, tears beginning to cloud my vision but I pushed them away.

“ No! Why would I be ashamed? " He questioned, but little did he know Neteyam told me about what he said about Kiri and Loak.

“ I’ve been told what you did, you made fun of my brother for having five fingers and not four, but I have five fingers as well- you called him a freak so that means I’m a freak. "

“ I- I didn’t mean it like that, you’re not a freak and I’m not ashamed. " Aonung whispered, why was he acting like this? Why couldn’t he just say the truth?

“ Admit it. You’re ashamed and you’re embarrassed. You don’t wanna be seen with me- a sully, or what you call us, a freak. " I spoke, my voice raising as I stood up.

“ Fine! You want me to admit it? Fine! I was embarrassed. And yes, I have said things about your family, I will admit but I have never said a bad thing about you. " Aonung spoke, getting up as well, looking down at me.

“ That doesn’t matter Aonung, they are my family. It doesn’t matter that you’re not talking about me because everything you’ve said applies to me. " I spoke, he was about to say something but I cut him off.

“ It all makes sense now, wanting this relationship to be a secret, us meeting in secret. " I yelled, doing a finger motion between us,

“ This relationship is over until you have some courage to tell others about me and not be embarrassed, you know this really shows how much you care about me. "

“ Y/n, I love you. " Aonung cried, “ I never meant to hurt you, I was just not thinking- you changed me, I never should’ve acted that way with your family, none of you are freaks and I’m sorry for keeping us a secret, I was just scared. "

“ I think we should take a break from eachother, I think that’s what’s for the best. " I spoke, a tear rolling down my cheek. Aonung began to cry and I felt my heart break as he dropped onto his knees.

***

Days passed since I broke up with Aonung and I haven’t really seen him around.

I sat on the ground with Tuk as we made some bracelets inside of our marui. The loud chatter of my siblings voices were heard outside of the marui slowly getting closer and closer.

“ You will never guess what happened today Y/n, it’s insane! " Loak yelled, my head immediately shooting up at him.

I tilted my head to the side and made a motion for him to continue, “ Aonung apologized for being a skxawng and calling us freaks, he said he wanted to be friends with us. "

My eyes widened, “ Really? That’s so surprising, I wonder why he did that." I spoke, making my siblings nod their heads at my words.

I knew I had to go speak to him, “ Kiri, could you continue to make bracelets with Tuk? I have to go do something really fast. " I asked, Kiri nodded her head and I immediately ran to search for him.

I looked everywhere for him and nothing. I sighed as I walked towards where I broke up with him and my ears perked up when I saw him sitting there by himself.

As I got closer he must’ve noticed my presence because he turned his head towards me, his eyes shocked.

“ What are you doing here? " He mumbled, I slightly smiled and sat down next to him.

“ I’ve come to see you, Loak told me what you did, how you apologized to them- it means a lot that you are fixing your mistakes for me. "

“ I told you that I love you and that means I’ll doing anything for you, that means if you are willing to get back with me we can tell everyone that we are together and that you will be soon be my mate. " Aonung spoke, hope in his eyes and he looked at me.

I paused for a moment, debating my decision. I love Aonung. A smile appeared on my face as I slowly leaned in and kissed him.

I pulled away and a grin appeared on his face, “ I would like that a lot. " I spoke.

When my siblings found out we were dating they were extremely shocked but then all agreed that it was suspicious that he just apologized to them out of the blue.

Aonung began to work on his relationship with you family and he regretted being so mean because he soon became extremely close to each of your family members.

He even became closest to Loak which was a huge suprise because he told you that they were the main two that did not get along.

Everything was different now and you two no longer had to sneak away in secret, Aonung was no longer ashamed and embarrassed and even his parents began to grow a liking to the Sullys.

#writing #fanfic #fiction #angst #romance #fluff #avatar the way of water #aonung x reader #aonung x sully!reader #aounung

[ussgallifrey]

Home for the Holiday | Part 3

✦ Summary: Never let it be said that you weren’t willing to do just about anything for your squadron. As you find yourself roped into an elaborate ruse to help fool Hangman’s mother for Christmas all seems to be going according to plan. But when that plan spirals out of control, the line between real and pretend begins to blur.

✦ Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Female Reader

✦ Warnings: Anxiety, arguments, fake dating, hurt/comfort, Jake’s family being fake and generally awful towards him, mentions of divorce, mentions of past abuse, minor angst.

✦ Word Count: 9.9k

✦ Author’s Note: Hi, has it been over a year since I posted anything for this story? It must be a Christmas miracle! Anyway, this one has been sitting in my drafts for a very long time, slowly getting added to every few months. And here we come to the end of Jake's annoying family. The next two chapters will be decidedly happier, I promise.

[Master List]

You’re woken neither by your own internal clock nor the backup alarm on your phone but by the irritated slamming of something across the hotel room. It takes you a second to properly assess the sound as being of the non-dream variety. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you push up onto your elbow to stare into the unsettled darkness.

The golden light from the bathroom spills out into the entryway where a shirtless Hangman seems to be fighting a losing battle with the foldup ironing board.

“You good?” you call out, voice still hoarse with sleep.

His eyes snap up to meet yours, mustering out an almost guilty, “Shit, sorry Pits.”

You wave him off, sitting up properly - the white sheets spilling over your thighs.

The bedside clock informs you that it’s still early in the morning, though not unreasonably so. He had told you the drive to his father’s place would take a while, so it made sense for him to be up at this hour but less so for whatever the hell he was trying to accomplish across the room.

Swinging your legs over the side of the bed, scratching at the back of your neck as you pad your way over to find out.

“What’s with the iron?”

There’s a seafoam green shirt on the board with a plugged-in iron on its end, that much you can see.

“Damn thing won’t turn on,” he flicks the buttons on the iron up and down, on and off.

Quirking your brow, “You know it takes time to heat up, yeah?”

He pauses, fixing you with an exasperated look, “Fifteen minutes enough for you?”

Throwing your hands up in a defensive hold, you take a step back.

“Shit. Look, I’m not trying to be a total ass here. Just, I didn’t exactly go packing a lot of options and I can’t go wearing what I did yesterday because Josh saw it already - ”

“Got it.”

He sighs in defeat, grabbing hold of the shirt. Giving it a good flap, you can see the clear wrinkles on the front.

For a lazy day in, the shirt would be fine. But this was a family get-together and Jake Seresin was a naval officer. His closet was likely similar to your own when it came to precision-pressed and properly hung items. Wearing this shirt, the way it was, would not fly.

“Well, before you go complain to the front desk - give it here, and let me try something.”

His own brow rises but he ultimately hands it over by the scruff of the collar. Swiping up your toiletry bag, you head into the bathroom, looking over your shoulder to give him a small smile.

“Let’s see if the magic of steam can’t work a miracle on this.”

His features drop in a way that says he hadn’t even considered that as an option before he grins, “Here’s hoping.”

After hanging the shirt on the towel bar, you take an extra long and heated shower. Letting the water massage your back and shoulders with its pressure. You certainly missed the little things like this when you were aboard the carrier. Uninterrupted, hot, lengthy showers where you didn’t feel like it might be a biohazard to touch any surface.

No, this was nice.

And when you step out of the tub and wrap a towel around your middle, you crack the door open to inform Jake that his shirt is just about good to go.

“But I can hit it with the hair dryer still. We got time, right?”

He hums in reply from the other side of the room, though you can’t see him.

Turning on the exhaust fan, you wipe down the steam-covered mirror with a hand towel and go about finishing your routine. Making sure your feet are actually dry, you step back into the room - walking over to your bag in search of another outfit.

Jake had pushed aside the blackout curtains in your absence, filling the room with natural light. He’s sat on the edge of his bed again, but now he has a plain white tank on to go with his jeans. You can hear the faintest clearing of his throat, making you look back at him.

His gaze drifts down your back for a second before he seems to busy himself with his phone again.

“I’m guessing this one is a little more casual?” you ask, pulling out three different shirts.

“Mmm, yeah,” he clears his throat again with a cough, glancing over towards the bathroom.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll get your shirt out in a minute. I’m just letting the steam work its last bit of magic on it.”

His eyes finally meet yours and he frowns slightly, “I wasn’t - y-yeah… okay.”

And then it seems to dawn on you: you were only wearing a towel.

And while it might be common for the guys of your squadron to walk around shirtless in the gym, or when they were changing out of sweaty flight gear, it wasn’t exactly a frequent occurrence for you to be seen in anything but your usual navy-issued tank and shorts. And while Hangman himself had been in nothing more than a towel yesterday morning, during the rush to get ready, that seemed like an entirely different situation to your own.

Your heart races as you become aware of just how exposed you are right now.

Grabbing hold of your entire bag and muttering out an embarrassed: “Sorry, I’ll just - ” as you hurriedly flee back into the bathroom.

Hangman, for his part, seems too stunned to even form a reply and you can’t exactly blame him.

Jesus, what were you thinking? You might be comfortable around your squadron but nothing over the past two days had elicited that level of comfort between the two of you.

Taking far longer than necessary to choose an outfit and get dressed, you’re slow and methodical about your hair and makeup this time too. Only when your nerves have settled down from the encounter, do you finally grab his shirt and return to the room.

“Well, what do you think?”

You hold the shirt up for him to examine. He nods, standing from his spot on the bed to take hold of it by the shoulders.

“Thank you.”

You just nod, tight-lipped, as you go about putting your bag away in its rightful spot. Jake tugs his arms through the sleeves before heading over to the full-length mirror by the front door. You watch as he methodically rolls the sleeves up to his elbows, creasing the cuff perfectly each time. When he’s done, he twists his watch around - back and forth, a few times.

And then he clears his throat, looking over towards you as you slip on your boots.

“You look good, by the way.”

Slowly, your eyes meet his and you offer him a gentle smile.

“Not too shabby yourself, Bagman.”

He ducks his head down for a second, grinning all the same. But then he’s glancing down at his watch and frowning again, patting his front and back pockets as he checks his EDC.

“You ready to go?”

Rising from the desk chair, you fix him with a questioning look, “Are you?”

With a smirk, he shakes his head. Offering an honest, “No.”

Jake holds the door open for you as you leave the room, heading down to the stairwell. You make an off-hand comment about it not being the way to the free dine-in breakfast. But he just keeps walking and eventually, you're in the parking lot. Slipping into the passenger side of the rental car, you watch as he adjusts the rearview mirror and his own seat.

Before he even starts the ignition, he looks over at you, “Hungry?”

“Well, someone wouldn’t let us go down to the lobby for breakfast.”

“Ha,” he chuckles. “Come on, I know a better place.”

Raising your brow as you buckle your seatbelt you say, “I’m intrigued.”

Hangman just grins, grabbing hold of the back of your seat as he backs out of the parking spot.

You're not sure what you expected, but when Jake pulls into a busy Sunoco gas station ten minutes later, you can't help but raise your brow skeptically at him.

“Trust me,” he grins - all teeth - as he snags his aviators from his shirt collar.

“Tell me they have the best donuts around at least,” you call, following him out of the car.

He had parked off to the side, away from the entrance of the food mart. Digging his hands into his jean pockets, he waits for you to meet him on the sidewalk in front of the hood of the rental car.

Grinning with all the smugness of a higher power, he nudges your arm with his elbow and leads the way. Avoiding the building entirely, which makes you even more curious. The two of you round the other side of the gas station where the smell of smoked meat and spice fills the air.

There are two food trucks, a yellow tear-drop-shaped repurposed camper, and a smaller red build. Each has its own canvas tent with tables and chairs set up underneath. Fancy chalkboard signs bring the promise of amazing food as do the long-stretched lines outside of them both.

“Okay,” you admit, “You had me concerned for a second there.”

He chuckles, getting into the yellow truck's line, “Gotta keep you on your toes, sweetheart. Anyway, I wanted to give you the chance of having an Austin staple.”

Well, if the menu wasn't enticing enough for you, then the smell certainly was. You find yourself nearly floating along the line with Jake. After ordering, you grab an empty picnic table to yourselves and proceed to dig into the absolutely massive breakfast burritos.

“Have you eaten here before?” you ask after swallowing another absolutely sinful bite.

“No, actually,” he wipes his mouth with another napkin. “This place didn't exist until two years back. Found it online when you were, uh, getting ready.”

Your chest aches as you recall the awkward encounter from this morning. Slowing your chewing, you manage out a pinched, "Well, god bless online reviews. This is incredible."

After another bite, you rub your lips with the back of your hand, glancing across to meet his gaze - his sunglasses remain folded on the table now, so you're able to see the green of his eyes once again.

“I mean it,” you swallow. “This might be the best breakfast I've ever had.”

He stares for a moment, swallowing his own bite before a slow smile graces his lips.

“Better not let your momma hear you talking like that.”

You laugh, “I'm sure she'd understand.”

Jake gives a warm chuckle, shaking his head, “Hell, think you know more about my family than I do about yours at this point. Not even sure I can remember you ever talking about them.”

Setting the burrito down carefully in the foil wrapper, you contemplate his small accusation. While you had certainly heard your fill of just about everyone else’s families while on deployment, you can’t recall if you really ever dove into talking about your own.

Obviously, you had heard all about Jake’s very extended family at this point. But even you knew about Freud and his weird association with his mom’s current husband - her fifth husband if you were remembering things correctly. Cosmo had a close relationship with his sister Cecilia but not his sister Lucia. Slab had a complicated connection with his adoptive parents but got on okay with his older brother. And so on.

“They’re not very interesting,” you finally settle on.

He raises a single eyebrow, “I highly doubt that.”

“Compared to yours?”

That makes him smirk, “Fair point.”

From there, it takes you a little longer to realize that you’re both eating at a leisurely pace and that Jake isn’t constantly checking his watch or telling you to speed it up. It’s a strange occurrence, given his usual attentiveness for being timely. Jake Seresin lived by the motto that if you’re early, you’re on time and if you’re on time, you’re late.

So, as nearly a full hour of the two of you sitting there and shooting the shit passes, you start to grow the slightest bit concerned. Going on to ask:

“How far did you say your dad’s place was?”

His lips immediately fall into a sort of scowl as you pull him away from a very amusing story about his time in officer’s school.

“Two hours,” comes the almost robotic reply.

“Does that mean we should start, you know, heading out?”

Your breakfast had long since been finished and the wrappers thrown away. Your drinks were little more than melted ice and semi-chewed straws at this point.

After ruffling his hair and twisting his watch around a few times, he finally sighs.

“Yeah, probably.”

Forcing a tight-lipped smile, you slap his shoulder as you finally stand up from the picnic table.

“Come on, Seresin. You got me as your wingman for a second round today. No time like the present.”

Grabbing hold of both of your near-empty drinks, he too lifts his leg over the side of the bench and stands up with a playfully annoyed, “Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up now, Pits.”

The ride to his dad’s house is filled with Christmas music played by two different country radio stations. As the odometer slowly creeps up mile by mile, you can see the difference in your companion’s composure. He started out relaxed, almost lounging in his seat. And then it grows more rigid; with his hands clutching the steering wheel like it had personally wronged him.

Last night, the two of you had talked about the upcoming shitstorm of a holiday get-together.

You knew Josh would be there again. But you would also be meeting his other brother, Justin, and his wife and kids of course. And then there was his sister, Jess, and her brood - as he had put it.

Just from the way he talked about his siblings, it was clear that Jake did not get on with - nor keep in close contact with - any of them. He seemed particularly hung up on his sister more so than his older brothers. And while you were sure there was a story - or two - there, you didn’t feel it was the time, or place,to pry.

And then, of course, there was the infamous Mr. Seresin himself. Of him, you knew the least amount of information. Only being told that you should keep your conversations limited if not just nonexistent. You weren’t sure how well that idea would apply in reality, but for your friend’s sake, you promised to keep things to his plan.

As the radio DJ announces yet another Thomas Rhett song, Jake finally hops onto an exit ramp, signaling that you were close to the inevitable get-together.

In almost two hours, you had covered a variety of topics pertaining to work. But seeing the great amount of tension currently attacking your wingman, you finally relent with a different story.

“I got my pilot’s license at seventeen.”

Only because you’re at a stoplight does Jake look over at you, wide-eyed and mouth slightly ajar as the beginnings of a smirk curl into place.

“Do tell.”

You chuckle as he turns the wheel.

“Whole line of aviators, actually. Great-grandpa was a paratrooper during Korea and I guess he just missed the adrenaline when he came back to the States. His son took up commercial flying and my dad got his license just because it seemed like everyone else in the family was doing it.”

“And you?” his sage green eyes meet yours for a quick second before he focuses back on the road ahead of you.

With a shrug, you draw your knee up on the seat and stare out the passenger window. Swatches of dusty farmland and wooden fences pass you by.

“Guess I was always just growing up around them. My grandpa took me flying all the time when my dad was busy working. Did my first solo ride at fifteen in a glider and got my license two years later.”

You can see his grin from out of your peripheral and count it as a victory.

“Any other incredible talents you’ve kept hidden under that smartass exterior?”

“Hey!” you gently slap his arm, pulling a fake pout. “If there was, I’m not telling you now.”

“Alright, alright,” he bites his lip, tapping the steering wheel as a sense of ease washes over him. “I’ll play nice.”

With a roll of your eyes, you mutter under your breath, “Fat fucking chance.”

There’s a seemingly dramatic sigh from him which is immediately followed by a hand being jabbed into your flank and a screech of laughter erupting from your lips as Jake proceeds to tickle your side.

“G-god fuckin- STOP, y-you asshole,” you try to squirm away from his touch, but his fingers seem to know your exact weak points and there’s only so far you can scramble away.

“Give it up, Pita,” he croons sweetly, still somehow managing to drive the car steadily down the road with his left hand.

“Mercy! Mer-cy, you jackass!”

You shove at his hand until he finally relents. Absolutely beaming as he looks over at you, unable to stop his own chuckle from seeing the state of you. He sighs, the bubble of laughter on his lips as he turns down a dirt road.

“Sure know how to distract a guy.”

With a huff of indignation, you say, “I’m sure there’s more alluring ways to do that.”

Only when Jake chokes on his own spit do you throw your head back in a howl of laughter.

“Christ, the look on your face, Seresin.”

“Ha ha,” he deadpans, catching your gaze in the reflection of the rearview mirror. “Laugh it up, sweetheart. Cause we’re almost there.”

That does seem to sober you both up almost instantly.

The radio sways in and out between bits of static break-up. As the houses fall further and further back from the road, it seems like you’re looking at nothing but straight-up copper-dusted fields.

Hangman leans forward on the wheel as he peers out at the stretch of dirt road, checking the numbers on the mailboxes that pop up every mile. And then, at last, he finally slows the car down to a steady roll.

And while Lady A is singing about it being an absolutely Wonderful Christmastime, you watch as all signs of joy seem to drain from your friend’s face as he turns onto the long-winding drive of his father’s ranch. The tires kick up dirt and pebbles, leaving a trail of dust in your wake. You’re jostled in your seat from the rough terrain of the unpaved driveway.

“Can’t believe I’m fucking doing this,” he murmurs, staring up ahead at the trucks already parked next to the white barn.

The house itself is a massive ranch-style home, with wood siding that almost makes it look like an older cabin. But the windows are clearly modern and sleek. It was no question at all that Jake’s father had some serious money to his name here. If the accompanying acres of farmland weren’t already a dead giveaway.

You wait for him to park, killing the ignition and resting his arms on the steering wheel with a resigned look in place of his usually bright eyes.

“When, uh, when was the last time you were here?”

With a sigh, his chin resting on the wheel now too as he stares up at the sprawling house.

“All the time as a kid. It was my granddad’s. Went on to my uncle until he ran himself straight into debt from all the gambling and drinking. Then this one - ” he jerks his head in the general direction of the house once again, “ - got it passed onto him. Haven’t been back since my granddad passed. So maybe… fourteen years?”

With a singular blink, you mutter an equally pressed, “Jesus, Seresin.”

“Yeah, well…” he just shakes his head, having already given you the gist of everything last night. No point in rehashing old news.

“Looks like everyone is here,” you comment after glancing around at the other numerous vehicles in the drive.

He nods, finally pulling the keys from the ignition and swinging the chain into his hand.

You follow him up the path to the front porch – a once beautiful piece of craftsmanship now deteriorating and stained. The floorboards of the deck squeak under your shoes and a handful of the railings seem to be either broken-off or missing entirely. A black bear carved out of wood greets you both with a simple welcome sign held in its fur-textured paws.

Jake gives a solid rap to the door before he grabs hold of the handle and shoves it open. More of a courtesy knock than anything.

With a little squeeze to his bicep, you give him your best encouraging nod and follow after him as he slides through the entryway where a massive pile of boots and shoes has been deposited.

You’re only afforded a sliver of a proper view into the main living space, but the noise level is already on par with an F18 ready to take off from the flight deck.

As you kick off your shoes into the sprawling mess of footwear, you’re assaulted by the sound of screaming children, raucous cheers, a football announcer blasting through surround-sound speakers, and the faint twang of Christmas music radiating out from a speaker somewhere in the middle of it all.

Mixed with the pungent smell of sweat-soaked shoes and rosemary-scented turkey roasting in an oven, you reach out to grab hold of Jake’s arm – simply from the overwhelming amount of things happening all around you before you even see a single person.

“You good?” he murmurs, a shocking amount of concern etched onto his usually playful features.

“Mhmm,” you manage.

A warm hand eases its way onto the small of your back and you feel the madness fall into a pinpoint tunnel where it’s easily manageable and not so disconcerting.

“Never better,” said through a set of clenched teeth is all you can work up for him.

With another squeeze to his arm, you allow Jake to guide you – by the hand still on your lower back – down the front hall to the large open-plan living space. To your left, several women lean against the russet-colored cabinets, with glasses of dark red wine in hand and ringing laughs as short blonde-haired children weave their way through the space.

To the right, near the stone fireplace sits the majority of the men on overstuffed leather couches and recliners as they stare up, with rapt attention, at the game currently projected on the large flat screen mounted above the mantel.

“Uncle Jake!”

Your eyes lock onto the blur of yellow and red that comes charging toward you both. Stepping out of the fray, you watch as your companion drops to his knees to scoop up the girl with the maroon ribbons laced through her platinum hair.

“Kenna Kenna Kenna,” he grins, grabbing hold of the young girl around her waist as he hefts her up and swings her back and forth in his embrace.

A smile that you can’t seem to control graces your lips as you watch the scene play out.

Oh, the guys back on the carrier would kill to see this side of Hangman right now. What a privilege it was for you to bear witness to.

From over his shoulder, you’re presented with the curious brown eyes of the girl who then jabs her hand against Jake’s chest and demands:

“Who’s that?”

You watch as your companion’s grin slips down for just a brief second before he forces a tight smile.

“That,” comes the familiar voice of the older Seresin brother, who rises from one of the leather recliners with a beer in hand, and a too-smug smile on his face. “Is Uncle Jackie’s girlfriend.”

The girl gasps, staring up at Jake with a pure look of wonderment, “You have a girlfriend?”

Out of instinct alone, you wrap a hand around his right arm – encouraging the act from him.

“I do,” he nods at last, glancing over at you with those piercing green eyes. And then he’s laughing, dropping the girl back down onto her feet as he says, “God, when’d you get so big?”

“Probably sometime between your last visit and now.”

Your gaze snaps over to the woman in a denim blouse in the kitchen area, swirling her wine before she finishes it off.

If you had to take a guess...

“Jess,” he greets, short and to the point with a curt nod of his head.

Bingo.

As the girl, Kenna, skirts off to join the other kids currently hanging back by the patio doors near the massive Christmas tree, another man wanders over. Similar to Josh and Jake, he’s got dimpled cheeks, darker blonde hair, and a distinctive swagger to his walk.

“Hey man,” he claps Hangman on the shoulder, presenting him with a bottle of beer in his other hand. “Long time no fucking see. Look good though.”

Jake takes hold of the drink before he slinks his arm back around your waist, guiding you forward and into his side.

“Justin,” he nods, half in greeting, and half in explanation for your current confusion.

Ah, brother number two.

“And you’re the mysterious girlfriend,” his eyes slip past his brother to land firmly upon your face.

You offer your hand in return, along with your name.

“Never thought we’d see the day,” he grins in return. And then he’s backing away, gesturing toward the fridge, “Something to drink? Beer, wine, Coke?”

Surrounded by so many people who all seem to be particularly interested in scrutinizing your every move, you merely shake your head, “Think I’m good for now, thanks.”

Jake squeezes your side and you look to your left to see him already staring down at you with a soft smile. Emboldened by his apparent approval, you begin to make your rounds with him never far from reach.

You’re introduced, quickly, to Gwen. His bubbly stepmother with dark roots and straw-colored hair who hands you a glass of wine without taking no for an answer. She’s brightness personified and the definition of a doting host. Beside her stands a rather quiet fixture in the kitchen.

Marissa is the curly-haired young wife of Justin Seresin. She watches on with a bottle held between her chipped-red nails as Jess hollers at Kenna from across the room when she tries to drop a handful of slime on her uncle’s head.

The woman remains silent, though she holds an amused smile, as she watches the madness of her inlaws take place. There’s a brood of children that moves and weaves through the adults who remain largely indifferent to their antics.

From the countertop, where an array of appetizers are laid out, you watch as the two seven-year-old twins – Dawson and Dixon – gulf down scoops and scoops of bean dip. While their sister - Brynlee, as Jake’s stepmother manages to tell you over the noise of the get-together – seems content to cling to Marissa’s pant leg as she stares up at the towering adults overhead.

Your nerves begin to ease as a sort of familiar feeling washes over you. If you convinced yourself hard enough, you could almost pretend this was one of your mom’s extended family reunions.

Sure, you weren’t well-acquainted with everyone yet. But if you forced a good smile and made an effort to be courteous, you were sure you could get through the ordeal without tarnishing your wingman’s reputation.

Slowly, Jake guides you through the room, until, at last, you’re sat on the armrest of one of the leather recliners, watching with distant interest as the announcers recount the last play in the game before halftime.

“So, you gonna introduce us properly?”

Your eyes shift toward the couch where you spot the gray-haired tresses and stern sun-baked face of Daniel Seresin. Your companion, who had been standing off to the side of the living room speaking in quiet conversation with his eldest brother, seems to straighten up to full attention as if an admiral had just entered the room.

With a twinge of discomfort, your gaze tracks Jake as he strides over to you, a hand resting on your shoulder when he finally comes to a stop. You can feel his breath on your neck, the rise and fall of his chest against your back.

In a rigid tone bordering on inspection-line worthy, he introduces you by name and rank to his father.

A smile flits across the older man’s face as he beams up at you, rising from his lounged position on the couch to properly shake your hand. He looks the part of a typical rancher with his light-washed jeans and buttoned-down shirt tucked in with a flashy belt buckle.

“Real pleasure to meet you,” he grins. His hand is large, calloused by years of work. “I can’t tell you the last time Jake mentioned a girl catching his interest. Isn’t that right, buddy?”

You feel rather than hear the clipped mhmm that Jake gives in return. His gaze remains largely focused on the wall behind his father where an array of framed family photos resides. Never affording the man with the respect of holding his gaze.

Daniel claps your shoulder warmly and invites you to sit down with promises of their dinner being a real feast.

“She’s a saint, Gwen,” he tells you as you resume your position on the side of the armrest.

Jake, pointedly, slouches down in the actual recliner, his fingers wrapped around the neck of a bottle as he stares – unseeing – at the TV.

“Hell, damn near blew myself up last year with the fryer. Don’t think she’ll let me in the kitchen, will ya, honey?”

He shouts the last part, to be heard over the crowd. Followed by a ringing you bet your ass I won’t coming from the vicinity of the stove.

You watch as Josh shakes his head in amusement, cradling a wriggly toddler in his arms. But your attention ultimately falls to the man seated to the side of you. Lost in his thoughts, trapped in his own head.

Reaching down with a tentative hand, you squeeze his fingers with your own.

It takes a minute, but then those welcomed meadow-green eyes meet your gaze and you can almost see the momentary relief that crosses his face as he squeezes your hand in return.

Dinner at the Seresin house is a decidedly casual affair in comparison to the meal you had shared with Patricia the day before. Gwen dishes out the seasonal fixings onto Christmas-themed heavy-duty disposable plates. Accompanied by wrapped bundles of plastic cutlery in Santa Claus paper napkins.

Balancing your plate on your lap is a true feat of talent as you’re the main entry and exit point to the kitchen, still settled on the armrest beside Jake.

The nieces and nephews, all eight of them, are situated on the floor on a big fleece blanket that quickly becomes an absorbent towel for their stray food bits more than anything else. Your hostess has the foresight to turn the game down to a more reasonable level, though the noise in the living room is still on par with a jet engine firing.

You find yourself shouting to be heard whenever anyone graces you with a question, which isn’t many... at first.

“ - anyway, after he pulled them over,” Jess continues her story about her husband, Nick: the Statetrooper. “He told them that he – god damnit! MacKenna Jaymes, are you or are you not watching your sister?”

Your attention, involuntary, falls to the oldest grandchild who has a mouth full of food as she stares helplessly at her younger sister who’s let her plate slip and spill all over the blanket.

“Fucking Christ,” Jake scoffs in heated breath, too quiet for anyone besides you to hear. His anger isn’t directed at his niece, of course, but at his sister.

Shoving his plate onto the other armrest, he peels himself up from the chair and crouches down to the oblivious toddler who has orange cheese sauce all around her lips – which he wipes clean with a napkin.

Jess, for her part, rolls her eyes and continues on with a biting tone about children needing to take care of their own messes. But Jake merely scoops up the girl’s food and settles the plate back down on the floor in front of her with a gentle ruffle of her sweet blonde locks.

You hold his plate for him when he returns to the chair, running a hand through his own hair.

“Thanks, honey,” he says in a cadence so natural it almost makes you drop his plate.

When he’s settled, you chance a look at him before you find your gaze trailing over to the far too smug brother seated on the chair adjacent to yours.

“See? This is the shit I was talking about last night,” he waggles a finger between the two of you as an example.

“Dad, do you remember when he brought over that girl? God, Jackie, what was her fuckin’ name?” Josh perks up, sitting on the edge of the cushion as he grabs his father’s attention, and, inadvertently, Jake’s as well.

“Oh, gosh,” Daniel starts, slapping his knee in thought as he stares up at the ceiling for the answer.

After a beat, you hear the soft utterance of, “Sarah.”

You glance down at Jake who keeps his head bowed under the weight of old memories.

Josh snaps his fingers, “That’s it! Fucking head cheerleader wrapped around his damn finger and did he even spare the girl a glance? I swear to God, he - ”

“Christ, can you knock it off with the swearing already?” Jess snaps.

The mischievous brother merely grins at you in a way that seems to say you see what I’m dealing with here?

“Must be all that growing up that’s got you so enamored.”

Settling your hand on Jake’s left shoulder, you give him a reasurring squeeze. You’d already dealt with his brother’s annoying antics and personality last night, what was a few more hours of unending torture under a familial microscope?

He lets out a long ragged breath, but you can feel his shoulders loosen marginally.

You almost miss the biting sound of the Seresin sister when she mutters, “Doubt it.”

But Jake doesn’t.

And he latches on to it like an enemy target on his radar system.

“Something you wanna say?”

The room falls to a stifling silence like the distant whistle of a falling shell about to make impact. You fear for the fallout from the impending crater.

She has the audacity to look aghast, a hand held to her heart in surprise as she manages to finish off her potato salad in one quick bite.

“Jacob. If you can’t say something nice, you don’t say anything at all.”

“And yet you always manage,” comes his lightning-quick response.

“Well,” she drawls. “On a holy day like Christmas, I think you can find a way to keep your opinions sealed up.”

The other occupants watch the sparring of words like a tennis volley. But someone seems to have had enough.

“Oh, bless your heart dear!” Gwen says, standing quickly from her position on the couch beside her husband as she makes her way over to you. “You’re all out of casserole. Come on, now. Let’s get you fixed back up.”

Your chest tightens as you’re literally pulled to your feet by the determined woman, who quickly leads you into the depths of the kitchen. The words from the two siblings are still just as biting, but slowly the trickle of grandchildren also make their way into the kitchen.

Just another Christmas get-together for them as the grown-ups row.

As Gwen tops your plate to the point of sagging with more food, you watch MacKenna as she settles her younger sister on her hip while holding a hand on top of the toddler’s head.

“You’ve got your hands full,” you manage to say, hoping the smile you offer her isn’t tight with worry as the noise in the living room continues to grow.

The girl shrugs, as much as she can with a one-year-old in her arms. She tracks her siblings as they settle onto the hightop stools and begin to rummage through the lower cabinets.

Josh has his hands out as he tries to delegate between the bickering siblings, but Justin and Marissa just have the peace of mind to leave the scene altogether – also journeying over to the sanctuary of the kitchen.

“Don’t worry,” the eldest brother says to you, leaning on the counter as he carefully pushes his twin sons away from the bowl of Chex mix. “They always get into it when they’re together. Has nothing to do with you.”

“Oh,” is all you can say in return.

“Here, hun,” his wife says to the nine-year-old struggling to hold onto her baby sister any longer. “Give your arms a break.”

With a handful of chips in his mouth, Justin points at his wife, “We’re not having another one.”

She nods congenially, patting the baby’s back with her hand, “I know that.”

Jess is on her feet now, pointing a dangerous finger at Jake, but you feel rooted to the spot because this was never a discussed topic of possible scenarios between the two of you back at the hotel.

“Abandoning your fucking family because you have goddamn daddy issues. Get the fuck over yourself, Jacob!”

For all the hostility his sister throws his way, your companion remains level and coolheaded as always.

He stares up at her with a perfectly blank face, “Can’t go one damn holiday without throwing a tantrum can you?”

Gwen coughs, pulling your attention away for just a moment as she all but shoves a platter of cookies in your face.

“Want one? Got more than the two of us can eat here. I made peanut butter, peppermint, pecan – ”

“ - and you think you can just show up here like it’s all water under the bridge and everything’s fine and dandy just because you have a girl on your arm? That doesn’t make up for the last decade of your shit.”

You take a step toward the living room, where even Josh has shrunken down onto the couch with his head between his hands. Daniel remains completely stock still as he watches the seemingly one-sided fight drag on.

“Just ‘cause you found the first broad to give you the time of day, doesn’t mean you can just waltz in here and – ”

Before you can even register the words, Jake is on his feet.

Staring down at his sister with a heaving chest and balled fists.

You break away from the cluster of family members as you make your way to his side. Tentatively, you reach for his hand – easing his fingers away until you can entwine your hands together. His nostrils flare as words that have been building up since childhood begin to battle their way up to his lips, but it all comes to a halt when you murmur a gentle:

“Baby?”

With a slow turn of his head, he looks down at you – fight dissipating from his eyes as you squeeze his hand. Giving a gentle tug, Jake follows you over to the sliding doors of the back deck.

Behind you, you can hear Josh give an admonishing, “Never known when to close your massive fucking trap, do you?”

But you push aside the door and lead your wingman into the fresh afternoon air before you can hear her likely cutting response.

Having no real idea of the lay of the land, you pull him down the back steps and find yourself traversing a small pebble path around the back of the house. Jake, still in a state of silence, allows you to guide him forward without so much as a peep.

Near the back wooden cattle fence dividing the backyard from the actual farm property, you stop under the shade of a large tree. The billowing branches bring not only cool shade but a sense of privacy away from the prying eyes of the bickering family inside.

Releasing your grip on his hand, Jack takes a few unsteady steps forward before he drops down onto a faded old wooden porch swing. It creaks under his weight but seems sturdy enough as he eases his heels into the ground and pushes back and forth.

You stand there, staring out at the vast fields for a long long moment before you hear your name whispered into the breeze.

Turning back to your wingman, you take a seat beside him, your knees brushing as he continues to make the old swing sway.

Out here, if you close your eyes, you can almost imagine you’re in the cockpit on a smooth return flight. The only noise comes from the gentle breeze drooping over the tall grass that bends like ripples in the water.

But your attention ultimately falls to your friend. With his knuckles gripped white on his knees, his head bowed down with his shoulders hunched high to protect him.

This version of Hangman would never be seen by your squadron, nor would it ever be mentioned.

With a steadying breath, your voice cracking as you force out the words, you say, “I have a soft spot for disco music.”

It takes a second for the words to register, but Jake slowly lifts his head and stares at you with pure confusion.

“What?”

“Disco. It’s my... thing? And I’m swearing you to fucking secrecy, Bagman. But... I belt out ABBA songs when I’m alone. Donna Summers too.”

The making of a grin begins to form on the corner of his lips.

“I’ve got it bad for the Bee Gees.”

His brow raises ever so slightly.

“Do those private serenades also include a dance number?”

With a bark of laughter, you tuck your hands between your knees as he rocks you further back on the wide swing.

“Oh, absolutely.”

When you look up, you find his eyes narrowed and scrutinizing. But not in a harsh way. More like you were a puzzle he was just only now figuring out the missing pieces of.

“Why are you telling me this?”

Giving a shrug, you say, “Because I wanted to. Also, no one will ever believe you.”

There’s a beat of silence before his lips tug up into a radiant smile that has him shaking his head.

“God damnit, you’re right.”

You let your left shoulder bump into his right as his laughter slowly ebbs away to silence once again.

He spares the house a furrowed expression before he lets out a slow exhale of breath.

“This thing,” he starts, twisting his watch back and forth on his wrist. “Between me and Jess, it goes back years.”

“You don’t have to explain it,” you assure him with a soft utterance.

But he presses forward despite it.

“Josh and Justin were already out by the time things got bad. Just me and her in the house. Not that she paid much mind. She was ‘bout to graduate and I was just some snot-nosed ten-year-old.”

He eases into the swing, dipping his head back over the headrest to stare up at the swaying green leaves above the two of you. You find yourself turning to face him, pulling your left knee up onto the seat.

“Mom started drinking ‘round then after she found out he was fucking his bowling buddy. Had been, for the last two years or so. But Jess didn’t know that shit, just saw Mom passed out on the couch with an empty bottle on the floor.”

Jake shakes his head, pushing away the memory.

“They never said it to my face, but I know. I was the save the marriage baby.”

“Jake...”

Offering you a tight grimace, he continues.

“Spoiled as hell, got whatever I wanted and then some. Private school, the works. Brothers didn’t care much, but Jess...” he trails off.

Your hand settles onto his forearm, offering a squeeze of comfort when your own words fail you. He dips his chin in return, welcoming the touch of familiarity.

“That’s what I meant by it the other day. They sided with him and I went along with her because I found out what was really happening. Don’t get me wrong, Gwen’s a good lady and the two of them are better off divorced. But... put a wedge between me and the three of them.”

Clearing your throat, you ask, “Is that why you left to join up?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Couldn’t fucking stand to be around either of them by the time I graduated. Just wanted to start over, do something for myself on my own terms.”

And then he scrubs his palm over his face, wincing as he does so.

“Christ, I don’t know why I’m fucking telling you any of this.”

“I said you didn’t have to, you know,” you nudge him with a teasing tone.

With a look of pure exasperation, he holds his hands out like a confession, “Got me bleeding my heart out here like I’m Freeze or something, Pits.”

“Eh,” you sigh, twisting your body to pull up both of your legs onto the bench – only to deposit them both right across Jake’s lap with little fanfare. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of it.”

Something funny flits over his features for a moment before he places his hand over your calf and resumes his gentle rocking of the swing.

Eventually, you both manage to peel yourselves off the swing and wander back into the house. Jake says something about being completely okay with ditching the whole thing and heading back to the rental car. But you have to remind him that your shoes are still currently lost in the massive pile in the front entryway.

He then tries to convince you to leave them, going so far as to say he’ll buy you a new pair before your flight.

But, reluctant as he is, you walk hand-in-hand back into the house. You get lost in the excitement of the kids who want to open up all their presents right this very second and it seems like, for the moment at least, the fight has been put on hold to allow the true joy of Christmas to take place.

Though Jake and his sister remain on opposite sides of the room for the entire duration of the madness that is eight kids scrambling to unwrap their numerous presents the fastest.

While Justin plays the role of gift hander-outer, Jess lounges on a barstool in the kitchen, watching the mess play out with a stink eye. Jake, for all his hold-ups on the day, also drops to his knees to help the younger nieces unwrap their gifts.

Which leaves you, surprisingly, with a small bundle of drooling baby in your arms since her own mother would rather watch from afar than interact with her own children.

June is happy to suck on the left foot of her new stuffed buddy, lounging out in your lap as you rock the recliner back and forth. Jake shoots you several amused glances before he gets tugged into the decidedly un-fun realm of opening up all the plastic-wrapped toys for the kids.

The living room floor is heaped with wrapping paper and ribbons, loose twist ties, and chunks of cardboard and plastic molds by the time he returns to your side. This time, he’s the one resting on the armrest as he gently taps the snoozing baby’s foot with his fingers.

“Out like a light.”

“No better way to celebrate the day,” you agree.

The sleeping babe must be used to the chaos that is the Seresin family, as her siblings and cousins run amok with their new toys that beep and jingle. Tiny feet thundering against the hardwood floors as they zoom up and down the long hallway separating the living area from the rest of the house.

“Now that’s a picture if I’ve ever seen one.”

You lift your gaze to Gwen as she rounds the corner, a wine glass in hand as she settles in next to Daniel on the couch across from the three of you.

“Think you two will ever settle down stateside?” he asks with a true glimmer of hope in his graveled voice.

Jake winces, hand falling to your inner thigh for support.

“I, uhm, I could never ask Jake to put his career on hold for that,” you find yourself saying.

“Same for you,” he adds a second later.

Gwen, for her part, gives an understanding nod – settling a hand on her husband’s arm to stifle the topic down.

“How long have you two been flying together?”

Your wingman seeks out your gaze as the two of you mentally run through the tangle of memories.

“Three, almost four years now?”

“Mhmm.”

“And what set this all off, if you don’t mind me prying?”

Jake clears his throat, and you have to turn your head to hide the beginnings of laughter that bubble up to the surface. He shifts his weight, draping his right arm over the back of the chair, a finger playfully tugs at the fabric of your shirt.

“It was after a mission debrief. Fourteen hours, dead on our feet,” the story, completely fabricated, comes to him with a true sense of ease.

“And, I dunno. Everyone was shuffling outta the room and I just looked over and saw Pita and thought...”

At the pause, you turn your face to look up at him only to find his softened eyes seeking you out.

“Wow. I can’t have this girl out of my life.”

That piercing expression nearly takes your breath away and you want to applaud Jake for his terrific acting on the fly.

Pulling your gaze back to the seated couple, you add, in jest, “I’m sure my greasy hair and flight suit was what did it for him.”

“Hundred percent!” he grins, tugging a strand of your hair.

At some point, the others filter back into the room and Marissa kindly takes the snoozing June from you. You have to shake out your arms just to return the blood circulation. Who knew kids that little could be that heavy?

And while you get lost in the rushed conversation of two seven-year-olds trying to tell you all about the mechanical workings of their new RC cars, Daniel pushes up from the couch and weaves his way over to Jake, before saying something in his ear. You can feel the way he goes rigid as he slips his arm away from you and slowly stands and follows after his father.

You watch as the two men disappear down the hall, toward one of the bedrooms or office from the looks of it. A cold dredge of worry washes over you, cooling your insides and twisting your stomach into another uncomfortable slosh of concern. He had just started smiling again.

“He’s really got you bad, doesn’t he?”

Pulling your gaze away from the empty hall, you find the piercing eyes of Josh inspecting your face as he leans across his chair to speak to you.

“You. You’re worried about him.”

“Comes with the job,” you say.

A smirk tugs his lips into a twisted look as he too glances down the hallway.

“He’ll be fine. Little testy with whatever Dad’s about to try pulling. Won’t be too surprised if that’s the end of our little visit.”

Your brows pinch, “That bad?”

He chuckles, easing back into his recliner, “Always.”

You try to focus on the happy children occupied with their new toys and the soft lull of the TV sportscaster, but you find your primary focus pulled toward the long empty hallway.

He had told you all about the history between him and his old man, both in the backyard confessional an hour prior and the day you arrived in Austin. Yet now your mind was conjuring up worse and worse scenarios of what was happening in a closed-door room several feet away.

Another few minutes pass where you try your best to ignore what could be transpiring a few yards away, but the sound of a door opening followed by a pleading voice saying:

“Jacob, come on now. Jake. Jake.”

You crane your head just in time to see your companion striding down the hallway, directly toward you – pushing both Justin and Gwen gently out of his way. You’re on your feet by the time he reaches you and before you can even ask are you okay, he’s grabbing hold of your arm.

“Think we’re done here, sweetheart.”

Trying to get a read from his expression alone is useless, so you merely nod in return.

“Okay.”

As Jake directs you toward the entryway once again, with a trail of family members walking a few steps behind you both in silent anticipation, Daniel Seresin finally makes a reappearance.

Scrubbing a hand over his face, he just shakes his head in return to his wife’s questioning look.

Hangman can’t seem to move fast enough, even as the nieces creep past you to get to him.

“Are you leaving now, Uncle Jake?”

“When am I gonna see you again?”

He’s halfway between tying his left boot when he looks up at the little faces curled with worry and childhood innocence. Frozen, unable to find the right words to explain his hasty escape as he peers up and over their heads at his father standing silently at the end of the hall.

“Oh, that’s my fault, I’m afraid,” you say, leaning down to grab your own boots as three braided-blonde heads turn to look up at you.

“We need to hurry to the airport to catch our flight, don’t we, honey?”

A flash of gratitude in his eyes and a slow exhale has Jake nodding, quick to play along to your tune.

“That’s right, sweetheart. We have to go see Pita’s family now. Wouldn’t be fair to keep her away on Christmas, yeah?”

Shelby clings to his leg, her face squished into his thigh as she murmurs, “But I’ll miss you.”

Jake shoots you a clear help me look, but your rescue comes in the shape of Josh Seresin who swoops in and collects the five-year-old up into his arms.

“I’m sure you’ll hear from Uncle Jackie soon. Won’t you?”

Your companion gives a fast nod, “That’s right, kiddo. Soon as we’re back on the carrier, I’m gonna call you right up.”

The little girl peers over her uncle’s shoulder and you meet her soft gaze.

“And Pita too?”

Jake almost laughs, but he curves it into a smile instead.

“Yeah, her too, honey.”

Oh, your breakup in a few weeks was gonna be fun to talk through with a kindergartner.

Pushing that thought from your head, you righten your boot into place and fall back into Jake’s easy embrace, his hand finding a too-familiar spot on your waist.

The drive back to the city is shared in silence with only the familiar Christmas tunes from the radio there to fill the void between you both. And even then, the holiday spirit has already seeped out of the vehicle and into the vast countryside. No amount of classic jingles could fix that at this point.

When you arrive back at the hotel, it’s as though you’re waiting for the missile to hit. That weapon of course being Jake himself.

But the man in question is as silent as ever as he drops down onto the edge of his bed. Too tired to even remove his boots as you carefully tread around him to take care of your own shoes.

His silence makes you even more cautious in your moves, tiptoeing across the carpet to your bag and back again. Afraid to make any noise that could set him off. Oh, you could handle the fallout, of course. You’re just not sure if he could at this point.

When you emerge from the bathroom, now dressed in your sleepwear, Jake is lying flat on his back with his legs hanging over the edge. His eyes open and staring, almost unseeing, at the popcorn ceiling.

After spending a moment to assess your situation, you unceremoniously flop down on the bed beside him, a hand plopping down on his right knee.

And there you sit, in the stillness of the hotel room for a series of long-passing minutes. You watch the steady rise and fall of his chest, curling your fingers tighter and then looser on his jean-clad knee. Until, at last, he speaks.

“Should have never did this to you.”

You wait until his eyes land on you before you respond.

“Oh, fuck off, Bagman.”

It takes a second, but he eases up onto his elbows.

“I’m serious. Yesterday with my mom was one thing. But this shit? Today? God,” he drags a hand down his face in annoyance.

Releasing a breath, you lay down beside him on the bed. He stares down at you for a long moment before he falls back down next to you.

“I told you, I don’t care. I agreed to this entire insane endeavor and I told you I was gonna see it through no matter what. So, lose the bullshit grief, and don’t worry about me.”

Tugging on the loose fabric of his seafoam-colored button-down, you give him the space to respond or not. Hell, you were gonna be the last person to try and press the man for anything right now.

“I just...” he exhales, resting a hand on his chest. “I dragged you across the country, away from your own damn family, just to do this.”

Rising up slightly so you can stare down at him, you retort, “Which I agreed to. If I didn’t want to do this for you, do you honestly think you could force me to do any of this? Honestly?”

Jake glances back at the ceiling before a smile graces his lips.

“Hell no.”

“Exactly,” you reply, dropping back down.

“Well... at least it’s over.”

You hum in response.

Come morning, you would take the rental car back to the airport and board separate flights. You up to Michigan and Jake back to California. You would enjoy a family-filled holiday and he would be...

Your stomach turns at the thought.

Alone.

After everything that had transpired over the past forty-eight hours, after all that he was dragged through. Jake would be alone come Christmas day. Alone with his own damn thoughts and whatever reemerged trauma that came with this particular visit produced.

Maybe that’s why, after several more minutes have passed you both by, that you turn toward him and say:

“Do you... I don’t – well, that is to say, uhm...”

You can feel the look he gives you but you have to crane your neck back to properly look him in the eyes. There’s something there in the meadow green of his irises that emboldens you – allowing the words to come easily.

“Jake, would you like to come home with me for Christmas?”

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#jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #top gun fan fic #series: home for the holidays #my fic

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

There are two different versions of ATSV in theatres - and the only difference between them in Hobie Brown.

Okay ya'll I came across something so bizarre.

So I've seen Across the Spiderverse twice now, and my theatre was going to stop showing it this weekened - so I went to see it one more time.

Originally, I had seen version one. I knew there were two out there, but I had only heard of version 2. This time I saw it. And the ALL the differences has to do with Hobie Brown.

My man really hate consistency, I guess.

LOOK: This is the shot of Hobie saying 'I quit' that's most used. - THIS is version one

But when I went this time, this is what I saw:

THIS IS VERSION 2. (omggggggg!!!!)

As you can tell, instead of his normal colors - in this shot Hobie is a violet-pink instead, with a lot more texturing on his model.

And these are common throughout Hobie's screentime!

If you saw the top photo - you saw version one.

If you saw the bottom photo - you saw version two.

Chances are if you watched the movie early in it's release (first week or so), or you watched a fancam you have seen version 1.

I was able to capture most of the changes on camera - and it's kinda jarring to see but omg i find it so interesting!!!

I took photos of all the differences and compare them down below, including an explanation of why this happened.

Please let me know which version you saw, and when you saw the movie! Have you seen both versions? I'm so curious!

For the first half of Hobie's appearance the two version are entirely the same - except for what seems like either a different take or wording of his 'Gwendy, how much have you told him-' line. However, the changes begin at the end of Hobie's scene with Miles.

I spoke here about how in some versions Hobie says 'Don't enlist unless you know what war you're fighting', while others 'Don't enlist unless you know just who you're fighting'.

But the biggest differences are his last scene.

Last week I used THIS screencap that was taken from a Version 1 fancam. In it, Hobie is in full color:

In Version 2, he's pink. Also - it's extremely faint in the photo, but if you look closer you can see there are also red spiderwebs behind the blue ones in Version 2:

You can see his pink color better here:

Later in the scene, Hobie changes colors. In Version 1, he maintains the same normal color scheme for the duration of the scene, however in Version 2 he's changing back and forth - even turning black and white at one point.

Version 1:

Version 2:

And can I just say -

This is to show how Hobie is literally the only one in the room who is 1) Literally and physically 'in Miles' corner, (literally) standing 'in the right' - to the right of Miles,

and 2) the only one being honest to Miles (why he turns black and white, he also turns black and white while talking about Miles' parents.)

As the scene goes on, Hobie stays this color - which leads to one of my favorite differences:

His last shot.

In Version 1 - Hobie is white & black for one shot, as he says 'Here we go'. This is the same.

However - for version one, he returns to his natural color for his final line of the scene - 'Good'. And for Version 2, he turns purple.

So why did this happen?

According to the ATSV there are two (and only two) versions that were released in US theatres. Version 1 was released when Sony shipped early copies to translators so they could translate the script for international viewing. The version sent was about 98% done, and made to give the translators a jumpstart prior to release.

However, that version ended up being released.

Afterwards they swapped it out with the full, correct version - Version 2.

It seems like Hobie wasn't meant to be natural colored for the duration of the Canon-Events scene, and that in the whole film, he was the final thing they were putting touches on.

There are other small changes in version 2 - including when Miguel calls for backup - in Version 1 Lyla points at Miguel, however in Version 2 she takes a selfie with him on a AI cell-phone.

In Version 1 - Miles says 'No, no no!' at Pavitrs chai scolding, and 'Sorry, sorry' in Version 2. There are other small adlibs, and they said they removed Gwen's voicelines when she was searching for Miles and the child in the rubble (?? don't know why).

I also think - and I DON'T KNOW, I haven't checked my recording but I did record it - I THINK the watercoloring in Gwen's scenes have different colors in some shots, or different strokes, but only subtly. It just looked more detailed and vibrant to me, but idk. But the trans colors remain completely untouched in every way.

However, it seems that your best and most obvious way of telling which version you saw is by looking at Hobie's lines and coloring in different scenes.

Mans really hates consistency, damn.

______________________________________________

Outside of some split-second shots and ablids, He's the only things that's largely changed, and when seeing it in the theatre today I was literally shocked as HELL. When he said 'eh, what of it?', I was like 'mfer WHY R U PINK'. I hadn't noticed until right then. But I'm literally over the moon I got to see both, I feel like I found something secret.

Maybe being Hobie obsessed and Neurodivergent pays off.

Oh - and here's two more shots that were also changed that I didn't get footage of. If you have a photo or footage of these shots from Version 2 - PLEASE post or send them to me. Thanks!

Version 1 - 'What of it?' / In Version 2 he is a BRIGHT pink color

Version 1 - Standing behind Miles while talking to Miguel / In Version 2 he is black and white with newspaper around him (also doesnt he look so cute look at that slutty waist ugh)

SO uhhhhh yeah Idk if anyone else finds this interesting but I DO and I enjoyed it so much and I WISH I could get better footage of Version 2.

Had I not watched his scenes everyday for weeks and wrote out a dissertation about every one of his lines I might not have noticed lol

If you're not normal about Hobie Brown and found this interesting like me, thanks! Let me know if you read this far and please tell me what version you saw and when you saw it! Ok thxs again bye :)

#hobie brown #miles morales #across the spiderverse #across the spider verse #atsv #gwen stacy #spiderman #spider man #spider gwen #miguel o'hara #spiderpunk #spider punk

[writing-in-the-impala]

Secret Smokes (Part 5)

Pairing: Teacher! Remus Lupin x Reader

Series Summary: When the reader bumps into the new DADA professor on the bridge in Hogwarts she begins to build a friendship with him all thanks to their shared feeling of not belonging and love for muggle cigarettes. Their friendship blooms while they both fight internal battles deciding what is wrong and what is right leading to a lot of fluff, angst, flirting and a rollercoaster of emotions.

Warnings: Swearing, Drinking, teacher-student relationship (but like it’s all legal chill), SLOWburn we’re in for a long ride

Word Count: 2681

A/N: I'm back! Here's a new chapter sorry for the wait I love you all.

 | SERIES MASTER LIST (All chapters) |

Previous Chapter, Part 5, Next Chapter

On Monday morning you received an owl from Lupin letting you know he's "back" and your lesson is back on this evening. You spent the whole weekend thinking about your last interaction with him, the dynamic between the two of you was becoming very odd.

You were becoming a lot more self aware of your growing crush on him and you opened up to him about how you considered him a close friend and he seemed to share the same feeling. You would obviously never tell him how you realised in the three broomsticks that you had a crush on him as you began to feel jealous thinking he's on a date, fuelling your prank, it was ridiculous he was just a friendly teacher and you were developing a crush on him. Every girl in class flirted with him, his slightly messy hair and overall good looks did make him very attractive, and the idea that he was off limits made him a bit more appealing. You knew one thing the biggest rush caused by a boy all year was when he put his arms around you during your DADA tutoring last week. He made all of Percy's and anyone advances feel boring compared to the thrill of him calling you dear and winking at you.

When you came into his classroom in the evening he looked a lot more beaten up than usual, the full moon must've been tough on him this month.  His hair was a bit more floppy and shabby than usual and he was wearing a baggy warm sweater. "Hello Y/N, how was your weekend?" He greeted you gently as you walked into the room, you could feel his eyes on every move you made as you shut the door behind you and walked towards him, he had a genuine gentle smile on his face. "It was nothing special you know when you begin going to lessons you suddenly have a lot of work to do and a lot of studying. How was your trip?" You asked him keeping up the facade. "It was okay, very tiring." He stood up and that's when you noticed his cane as he walked around to the front of his desk. "So are you ready for a little bit of a duel to warm up?" He asked rolling up the sleeves of his sweater.

"I'm not the one with the cane and cosy sweater. Are you ready?" You mocked standing opposite him wand at the ready.

"Don't underestimate a man in a sweater, I bite." He said with a wink.

"You do?" You asked raising your eyebrow like he just raised your heart beat and he shot a trip jinx that you managed to defend. "I see your paying attention." He said shooting another which you also managed to defend. "A grown man trying to trick a school girl by distracting her, and you can't even hit me." You said shooting a sponge knee curse back in his direction that he defended well.

"Some men are into that you know." He said before trying to hit you again. "Oh, I know." You say again defending his attack. After that you both stopped teasing each other and focused on hitting each other, well the correct description is you tried to hit him and he easily diverted everything throwing a few simple duelling spells. No matter what you did you couldn't hit him and it was becoming increasingly difficult to defend his attacks as he began using more and more complex spells. That's when you began to play dirty you pretended to trip and fell to the ground and he immediately lowered his wand and went to the floor to make sure you're okay. "Y/N, are you hurt?" He asked quickly checking your ankle for where he may have hit it. "Stupefy." You whispered flicking your wand at him and he jetted back a bit. "Ouch. Now that's playing dirty." He said standing up slowly with the help of his cane and reaching an arm out to help you stand up. "I win." You smile at him.

"Y/N, the whole point of this is to teach you better defence and attack spells so you can pass your exams and be protected out there. Do you think a dark wizard trying to cause you harm will care if you hurt you leg? They'll just keep hitting you." He explained and that wiped the smug look off of your face. "But you cared, and I won." You said smuggly and in that moment he hit you with a stunner of his own "we're even now." But to you this meant beginning the duel again so you could win. You were more determined to beat him this time throwing shots back and forth "no fair you're using protego." You say noticing his shield charm. "Disarm it then." He snapped back. In the end Lupin won knocking you to the floor and getting you to give up but this time he was actually duelling you.  By the time you were finished both of you sat down on the small step in class drenched in sweat it helped that he was weakened by the full moon. "You know I wanted to begin work on your patronus today but our hour is already up." He said checking his watch and trying to catch a breath. "Already?" You asked shocked. "Time flies. I guess we'll begin that work on Wednesday." He confirmed drinking some water and offering you a glass that he magically got to show up. "Can we always start with some duelling practice profesor?" You asked honestly as you found today very fun he was standing up to grab a canteen of water to fill up both your glasses, he laughed gently before answering "whatever you'd like dear." There it was again the word that made your heart skip a beat and get stuck in your throat. "But definitely not for an hour next time, my condition is not what it used to be." He sat back down next to you pushing his hair back and trying to catch a breath. Do you think this is what he looks like just after sex? All hot and sweaty like that, hair a mess as he hands you some water, your brain began day dreaming about him while you both breathed heavily side by side. He put his hands on his knees saying "right" as he stood up. "Well I hope you took something useful out of this lesson, I'll see you later for a very healthy cigarette." He said opening the door for you.

"I'm sure daily cigarettes are going to help you keep up your cardio health." You said jokingly. "Can't get worse." He replied as you left the room and waved goodbye to him. As you were waking towards the great hall the twins spotted you. "How was your flirting session with Lupin?" Fred asked.

"Shut it." You said simply.

"You're spending a lot of time with him."

"I'm getting tutored by him Fred, that's how it works."

"What about the evenings?"

"What about them?" Your face felt red. "Nothing, so Three Broomsticks this weekend?" He asked. "Definitely."

After dinner you went to the usual spot and Remus was there he smiled gently and stood up straight when he saw you approaching. "Hello you." He said as you leaned on the side reaching into your pocket for your lighter. "Don't get too comfortable I want to show you something." He said filled with a excited look, starting to walk back into school. "Come on, don't just stand there." He lead you out near towards the Black Lake. "Profesor isn't it against the rules for me to be out here at night." You asked with a small laugh. "Call it a night class." You approached the lake and there was millions of blinkers aka glow bugs on the surface of the water lighting it up. You stood in silence and awe before Lupin took a seat on the grass at the edge of the lake and you joined him. "Thank you." You whispered. "This is one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen." You said not even looking at him, you didn't know he was starting right at you with a soft but needy look. "Yeah... It happens only once a year, I noticed it earlier in the evening when I went on a walk." He looked back at the view in front of him in the water. At this moment you were just two people sharing a mystical moment in time, the silence was thick but comfortable as you sat side by side watching. Lupin gently put a hand on your thigh and rubbed it while he said "You see the magical world isn't so bad after all." He removed his hand immediately and used it to support himself while he sat. You didn't respond your body felt like it was on fire from his touch. Slowly the lights began to fade as the glow bugs moved on and you and Lupin began to gently stroll around the lake taking a long way back to the castle.

"Y/N, what figure do I represent in your life?" He suddenly asked after a moment of comfortable silence. "I- I don't know what you mean." Cheeks going red again does he know that he makes your heart race every time he speaks, does he know your terrified of him knowing you have developed feeling for him, that he's the boy you dream of not anyone in your class. "I know we spoke recently and you said you see me as a friend but predominantly do you see me as a teacher? A role model? Or do you see me more human as someone you can talk to-"

"I see you as a friend. A close friend. Profesor I told you this before..." You interrupted feeling nervous this was the closest you could get to the truth without telling him about how you looked at his lips every time he smiled and wondered how they would feel colliding with yours. He didn't look at you he just nodded. "Good. I see you as a close friend too, as I've also said before, maybe one of the closest I have at Hogwarts however inappropriate that is to admit. As a friend I need to admit something to you." You swallowed as he stopped to emphasise the importance of what he was about to say and looked you in the eyes. He put a hand on your shoulder creating distance but also support. "I have to tell you something important before you get too close to me, I feel guilty I've been keeping this from you but I have truly enjoyed our friendship and I see this as something special. Now if you do not want to speak to me that is okay, however I please ask you keep this between us and keep attending my lessons as this is separate to your schooling-" he was avoiding saying it he looked composed but he looked anxious. "Lupin just say it." You had a feeling what he was about to say was going to change everything. He let go of your shoulder and said "I have Lycanthropy." He said looking at the floor in shame. "I know." You said beginning to laugh in relief he didn't know about your crush but wanted to admit something you already figure out. "What?" He looked genuinely shocked. "Lupin, we see each other on a regular basis, you disappear once a month around the full moon, you come back in pain, you get angsty right before the full moon."

"I don't get angsty." He laughed all the pressure easing away thanks to your reaction.

"You get angsty. I'm offended you didn't think I would figure it out." You simply said.

"I thought I was better at hiding it, I was genuinely scared you'll never speak to me again but I couldn't let you get close to me without knowing about my condition."

"What is it the 1950s? Do you want me to run for the hills in fear? Never speak to you again out of fear? Lupin, I'm not scared of you'd I don't care, you're someone I actually can talk to you don't find many of them at Hogwarts, you're not getting rid of me that easily." You didn't know how much those words meant to him but to him those words where repeated in his head all night. He has spent the last few weeks knowing he can't keep getting so close to you as your teacher and with his condition he was scared how you would react when you found out so he wanted to end it before he got too attached before you felt too much like one of the marauders. But here you were already knowing and not caring but treating him like a human, the only thing he had to be careful of now was not developing feelings for you...

Your next DADA class was interesting it started with Lupin talking about how you can use different charms and jinxes in a duel to win not with power but disarming and confusing your opponent. He walked around the class explaining this, pointing around and being his enthusiastic self. He looked so handsome when he leaned on his desk listening to what people have to say. He then instructed for everyone to stand up and waved his wands making the tables move to the side of the room. "Now before we end let's see all this in practice." He began. "What two lucky students would like to take part?" Lupin asked and some hands went up, he scanned the room deciding who to pick. "Mr Sallow." He said picking one of the more charismatic Slytherins. He was tall for his age with fluffy black hair and perfect cheek bones scattered with freckles and a known heartbreaker along with troublemaker. "And how about Miss L/N." He looked smug not as smug as Sebastian Sallow who was confident he could beat the girl who never showed up to classes. "You must be mistaken profesor I didn't raise my hand." You tried to protest. "Precisely." He winked at you before turning away and guiding everyone to empty space for the duel. "Surprise and disarm. You're already surprised by being picked Miss L/N are you ready to try and disarm Mr Sallow." You and Sebastian nodded. "Very well, wands at the ready. May the duel commence."

You and Sebastian started shooting spells at each other. Attempting to disarm one another, you decided to use leviosa to pick him up and start hitting him while he's in the air, he didn't know what to do or how to defend himself leaving you the winner. Lupin had a great big smile on his face as he slowly clapped while approaching you. He grabbed your arm and raised it "Miss L/N you're todays winner." People around you clapped including Sebastian who was getting up from the floor. The class ended and you felt smug as you gathered your belonging to leave you looked up at Lupin before leaving the class and he gave you a kind nod and a big smile which you knew meant he was proud of how you did.

When you left the classroom you heard your name being called to turn around and see Sebastian following after you. "I just wanted to say congratulations, was the reason you never showed up to this class the fact you knew everything?"

"I don't know anything maybe you're not that hard to beat." You said while you continued to walk.

"Maybe we should find out," he stopped mid track and gestured for you to get closer. "I run a duelling club," he whispered. "It's a unsanctioned and unsupervised duelling club, it would be interesting to have you come join along."

"Alright Sebastian and how do I find this duelling club?"

"Come find me by the Slytherin dorm room after classes are finished."

NEXT CHAPTER | More stuff I wrote

Tags (if you aren't here but want to be leave a reply and I’ll add you or DM me to get removed):

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#remus lupin x reader #student x teacher #teacher! Remus Lupin #professor lupin x reader #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #remus lupin #the maruaders #harry potter #remus love you #secret smokes

[bluebirbo]

Breaking Down Moments From The Trailer

oh man, it’s been a while huh? the hb trailer came out a while ago but I figured it’s still relevant enough to talk about so that’s what I’m doing. I’ll simply be speculating on things that got my attention in the trailer!

starting with

these two scenes clearly take place in the same episode and in the same location. I’m not 100% sure that big shadow is Andrealphus but I think it’s safe to assume it’s him based off of what we know. I believe this is also the same area we saw the Octavia leak take place so I think there’s a good chance we see her side with Stella’s family in a fake out “turn to the evil side” scenario

on a similar note these two scenes of Blitzo and Millie fighting don’t seem to take place in the same episode. now I’m not saying this based off the location but off of the outfits. unless the characters do a quick change between fighting I think it’s safe to say we’re going to see a plot line of Millie and Blitzo having disagreements/fights through out AT LEAST two episodes of this season

this is pure speculation but I’m like ninety nine percent sure that this is Tilla. It’s very exciting that we might get to see her after so long but she’ll also probably get the Barbie Wire treatment if not worse so…

I’ve seen a lot of theories over who this fiery guy could be but I think the correct guess is the wrath sin, Satan. why he’s saying “you’re a disgrace” I have no clue. at first I assumed he was in the same room as Mammon and was scolding Stolas but Stolas isn’t in that scene (as stated very clearly)

i DO think that these two scenes are related and probably take place in the same time as the Mammon one. the railings with the snake and apple pattern appear in both. they also use the same template of blobby background characters if that will help prove my point at all

Octavia, you poor sweet summer child. she deserves so much better than what they’re gonna give her. on a more positive note though, I do really like that they’re keeping the star motif she’s had throughout the show

this is so dumb I can’t even talk about it. Verosika get outta there girl, you actually have a well explained reason to say Blitzo sucks, not this overdressed owl

no clue what this guy is about. he has the same marking on his chest that Blitzo has on his bell. we know that bell came from Tilla but that’s about it. if anyone has any theories I’m open to hearing them

the too many villains thing is really showing in this trailer. now not all these characters are necessarily villains but all of them will cause at least some struggle for our main characters. that’s seven in total (eight if you’re counting Stella and her brother separately and six of you group the cherubs and dorks together). all of this is supposed to span across only five episodes. that isn’t mentioning any internal conflict or joke time. the writing team is gonna have to work overtime to fit everything in

that’s all I’ve got to say. I could break down the trailer frame by frame but I don’t have the energy for that. I can’t wait to see everyone else’s thoughts as we progressively get closer to the release date of Full Moon. thanks for reading and I’ll see ya next time!

#helluva boss criticism #helluva boss critical #helluva critical

[leilakisakabiri]

Try Not To Laugh Challenge (Pedri)

Summary: You and Pedri are co-workers who are paired up to do a video for the Barcelona Instagram account - the only thing is you’re dating and both bad at hiding the feelings. 

Warning(s): none

A/N: Please send in any requests if you have any. 

Word Count: [2035]

You stared at the email in disbelief. Just your luck. 

You were currently being asked by your manager to meet him on the training grounds to film a video for Barcelona’s Instagram page with Pedri. 

Big no. 

Originally, Gavi was supposed to film the video with him but had to cancel last minute as the shoot he was doing with Nike was taking longer than anticipated. 

Because of the short notice, the players had already been sent home, with only Pedri remaining after practice. 

This led to you getting an email from your manager to step up and take the role as you were the team’s social media intern. 

You didn’t want to turn him down, one because he was your boss and technically you weren’t even sure if you could without getting fired, but two also because you hadn’t seen Pedri all week and a small part of your brain, that was filled with all the mushy gushy feelings missed him. 

The two of you had met when you started your internship with Barcelona the summer prior, he had just been ending his second year as a professional, and you had just ended your second year of college, thus landing the internship as a result.

Initially, things had been pretty awkward between the two of you. You rarely ever saw the players, often being thrown headfirst into the research aspect of social media marketing, such as trying to predict trends and analyzing raw data. It wasn’t until 5 weeks later that you had your first encounter with the boy. 

You had walked into the break room, which to be fair was more of a snack room than anything else, the tables filled with different assortments of food.

Once there you noticed that there was only one other person present. A brown-haired boy on the other end of the table, looking intently at what appeared to be muffins.

You chose to ignore him at first, deciding to see the spread of food the Barcelona staff had brought in for everyone today. Your eyes locked on the pizza, and your body filled with excitement. 

You were a big fan of pizza. 

There was only one slice left and it was calling your name. 

You grabbed a plate and made your way over, reaching out, just as another hand stole the pizza. 

You looked up, ready to fight for what was rightfully yours, making eye contact with the boy from earlier. 

He spoke first “Oh my bad. Did you want that?” 

You cleared your throat, ready to stake your claim, but instead only came up with “Oh no, no worries.” 

God damn it Y/N. You really need to grow a backbone you thought. 

The boy looked at you, “Are you sure, you can have it if you want.” 

He held up the limp pizza and you both watched as the cheese slowly started to separate from the sauce. 

“I’m good. Thanks.” 

The boy nodded before moving along the line.  

You looked back over at the food, you had skipped breakfast earlier this morning as your boss asked you to come in earlier than expected so you didn’t have time to grab anything.

As you were contemplating whether to eat a muffin or an apple your stomach began to growl. 

You felt your cheeks grow hot as you desperately prayed the boy standing just a few feet away didn’t hear it. 

“Okay, clearly you’re hungry. Just take the slice, really I don’t even want it, it’s bad for my diet.” 

You wanted to die. You finally met someone who looked around your age and the first thing you did was embarrass yourself in front of them.  

You turned around to face the boy, he was once again holding the pizza in his hand, but this time he was stretching it out to you as a peace offering. 

You looked at him as he gave you a warm smile. 

“Split it?” You asked. 

The boy grinned, “For sure.” 

After that, whenever you and Pedri saw each other in the hallways you always made sure to stop and say hello. Eventually, those hellos became walking with each other back to your respective cars whenever you ended at the same time. Those walks then became lunch breaks, and before you knew it you were spending so much time with Pedri, you were surprised no one else had picked up on it. 

“What do you tell your teammates when they ask where you go?” you questioned, sitting beside him in the empty conference room as you shoveled yogurt into your mouth on a random Friday afternoon. 

“I say that I’m talking to my mom.” he admits. 

You laugh out loud, reaching over to hit his shoulder, “No way haha. They believe that?” 

Pedri rubbed the spot where you hit him, pretending it hurt, “Well they’ve never questioned it.” 

“Aww but doesn’t Gavi miss you?” You asked, making a kissy face with your lips, purposely trying to annoy him. 

He groaned at your antics, pushing your legs that were rested on his lap away, “Oh fuck off. You know there isn’t anything going on.” 

You giggled. Recently someone had started a rumor on the internet that Pedri and Gavi were madly in love and once you had caught wind of it you had brought it up every chance you could, never getting enough of Pedri’s angry face, which in all honesty did not look even the slightest bit intimidating. 

“Can’t say the same for us.” Pedri spoke, effectively cutting off your giggles. 

You straightened in your seat, “What?” 

“Oh c’mon you clearly have a thing for me.” He spoke again. 

This time you fully sat up. While it may have been true that you were harboring the slightest, and i mean the slightest of slight, feelings for Pedri, there was no way anyone was ever getting that out of you unless you were literally chained to a wall fighting for you life. 

Maybe not even then. 

“Not even a chance.” You huffed looking at him as he grinned back at you. 

He leaned over, hands finding their way to your shoulders as he squeezed, “Awh c’mon Y/N you’re telling me you don’t even have the tiniest of feelings for me.” 

You raised your eyebrows at him, “Why so curious? You got a crush on me or something?” 

Now it was his turn to shrink away. 

“What? No, of course not.” 

“Then why are we talking about this?” 

“Whatever.” 

You peaked at him through the corner of your eye, you couldn’t tell if you were imagining it or not but you swore you saw the smallest tint of pink on his cheeks. 

You were right, he definitely had a crush on you. That all led you to your current position now, where you and Pedri had been dating in secret for 6 months, not wanting to risk telling anyone and you losing your job, since it was against company policy for employees to date when there was a power difference, which in this case there was since Pedri was a player and you were an intern. 

Debating it over in your head, you decided to go and just get it over with. You just hoped you and Pedri would be able to keep it undercover. 

You both failed. Miserably. Throughout the shoot you kept feeling Pedri’s eyes on you when they shouldn’t have been. For example, when your manager was explaining the rules of the game behind the camera, you could feel Pedri’s gaze directed towards you, and when you turned to look at him, he gave you a smile that made your insides melt. 

It had been just over a week since the two of you had last seen each other, with the team going off to compete in a different city for La Liga, and you staying back to keep up with work at home base. You weren’t even able to Facetime as there was never a time where both of you where free or away from everyone else. 

You had missed him a lot, and it seemed he had missed you just as much. 

“Ok so do you two understand the rules?” Your manager asked. 

You gave him a thumbs up before turning to Pedri.

You both walked over to the water bottles, reaching down to collect them. With your backs turned to the camera, Pedri leaned over and whispered, 

“I missed you this week. Wish you were with me.” 

You sighed, glancing over at him, “Me too.” 

You both parted before you could say anything else, standing opposite to each other after being handed flour tortillas. 

“Ok so just try to hit each other with the tortilla’s and we’ll be good.” 

You had a mouth full of water as you tried to communicate with Pedri about who should go first. The boy stared at you with a confused look. 

You started doing the motions of rock, paper, scissors, and finally he understood. 

You won, and started moving closer to Pedri with the tortilla raised as he kept moving backwards. 

You had to choke back a laugh as he almost tripped over a lighting wire, turning your body away from him and closing your eyes so you wouldn’t have to see the look on his face. 

You urged him back towards you, and he took hesitant steps forward. 

You pretended to be surprised, and looked at something over his shoulder pointing for him to look. 

Stupid boy. Literally the most classic trick in the book. 

As he was mid turn you slapped him with the tortilla on his cheek, the noise of water sprurting out of his mouth and silence that followed after sending you into hysterics. 

The water spilled out of your mouth as you laughed, “Oh my god, I can’t believe you fell for that!” 

Pedri glared at you before giving you a light push as you leaned over trying to catch your breath. 

“This is what I get for trusting you.” 

You stood back up, tapping his cheek empathetically, “You’ll survive.” 

He pulled your hand away from his face, but let his hand rest in yours for a second too long before he dropped it. 

“I’ll get you back for that.” He warned once again taking his position across from you. 

You smiled sweetly at him, “I’d like to see you try.” 

The game went on like that for another 2 rounds before your manager called it quits saying that there was enough footage to post. 

You were drenched from head to toe when he had finally called cut, and you had a disgusted look on your face. During the last round, Pedri had purposely lost and spit water all of your face. 

You had shrieked jumping away from him, but he grabbed your wrists trapping you from getting too far as he drenched you. 

“Pedri Ew! So gross!” You groaned once he finished giving you a mini shower. 

He gave you a cheeky smile, “Told you I would get you back.” 

You rolled your eyes turning to face the camera, “Can we be done yet?” 

Your manager laughed behind the camera, “All good.” 

You smiled once more at the camera before saying bye and letting Pedri finish off the video. 

Once everything had wrapped and you had dried yourself, Pedri came over to you. 

“That was fun!” 

You groaned, walking alongside him as you made your way to your cars, “For you maybe.” 

“Oh c’mon Y/N, don’t be a sore loser.” He retorted, bumping your shoulder with his. 

“I didn’t even lose!” You exclaimed. 

Pedri’s eyes twinkled at he looked at you, “That’s not the way I remember it at all.” 

“Then you must have amnesia.” 

He laughed at your comment, “You know what would probably cure it?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Some kisses.” 

You once again rolled your eyes at Pedri’s cheesy words, but felt your self smile regardless. 

“Fine, but you get nothing if I beat you to your car.” You shouted already taking off in a sprint. 

You heard Pedri yell after you before he started chasing you, “Not fair!” 

You laughed to yourself, feeling so grateful that you had found someone who was just like you. 

#pedri #pedri imagine #pedri imagines #pedri headcanon #pedro gonzalez #pedro gonzalez imagine #fc barça #barcelona #pedri angst #pedri fluff #pedri x reader #pedri one shot #football #football imagine #pedriimagine #pedrioneshot #gaviimagine #pablo gavi

[kanmom51]

JK live 23 September 2023 (NYC)

20:11 or 8:11 pm EST

cr./to the creators of the media used in this post.

or

24 September 2023 9:11 am KST.

Coincidence? Starting the live at 8:11? I think not.

And not the first time he goes live at that time either.

So yeah, JK came live at 8:11 and ended the live at 13:23 minutes.

13 again? Coincidence again? Given that he said his goodbyes at around the 12 minute mark and then waited (?) for it to reach 13? Maybe. Fact is it did.

OMG, he opens up the live like this:

He's so damn adorable.

And it's a Bratz lip gloss, lol.

How can you not love him?

Anyway, JK starts the live saying long time no see and with talk about 3D coming out on the 29th. He tells us how it was his idea to add the clip at the end of the GCF performance, but someone ruined the surprise by running it during the rehearsals, which they obviously weren't supposed to. Oopsy. Spoiler king was spoilered. Lol.

He is a little fidgety, feels like he's doing the live cause he needs to, rather than really wants to... just a feeling I had.

JK says that as much as he was busy he actually did have time to come to us live, but, and this is where JK has decided to place the boundaries that he himself kind of tore down just a little while ago - he talks about there having to be a push and pull, but I guess he realised, perhaps with some help from others, that tearing down those walls between himself and us has also created an expectation from some fans for more, too much. Also, there needs to be some mystery (he was probably told) and leave the fans with a want for more...

I don't think this is the end of the JK we came to know and love the past few months, but I do think that he is trying to re-assess and set some boundaries between the artist that he is and us as fans.

And truthfully, let's be real here for a sec. Us, the fans, we were kind of a filler in. When the real thing is there, and the time to enlistment is getting shorter and shorter, and there is a choice between the two, who do you think he will choose? A 3 hour live with us or a sleepover with JM? I really don't think the choice is such a difficult one. Do you?

JK asks how the performance was. Hasn't monitored it yet (oh, and believe me when he does he's going to be hard on himself). And yet, even though he heard from fans they liked it, he feels he did better at rehearsal. Says it's a jynx. On the day of the performance his throat got dried up. It's called anxiety or nerves JK. If only there was someone there with him to calm those nerves...

And before you come at me, yes. I do feel he was anxious. He was a little closed up and distant as well. The enormity of it. The having to speak English. The being there ALONE. There were these little moments of disconnect during the performance. Maybe if he would have started his set with the more lively songs it would have helped, but if only there was someone there to support him and calm him, that dryness in the throat he talks about... yeah, non existent. My opinion. Fight me.

Then Jin shows up in the comment.

I mentioned that it felt like he did the live because he had to (after the performance and the 3D teasers dropping). Jin showing up in the comments, his reaction, felt like relief in a sense. He was really happy.

He saw one of the members commented, went in to see who it was and was really happy to see him.

The whole interaction between them was so older and younger brother, lol.

Jin with the "stop touching your hair", the whole call me convo (JK saying the times aren't lining up him being overseas and Jin answering with him texting Jhope 300 messages a day, as in "you ass, you can always send me a message instead", lol).

Watch the interaction here:

What did I take from the interaction with Jin?

First of all, that JK was really happy to see him. Not JM level happy, of course, but really happy. Do I say what I'm thinking? About members showing up in his comments and his reaction to them? Nah. In this instance I will take the fifth.

Second, we get it straight out of the horses mouth: JK is enlisting soon. Not like we didn't know it already. Like seriously. But there are those, solos mainly, that seem to still think that JK won't be enlisting with the others. Well, JK made it abundantly clear in that conversation that he's definitely enlisting and it's happening soon. It's the "I'll be joining that party soon" (as in the Jin and Jhope army party) and it's in the "you'll be out while we're still in so take care of Army until we're done" whole convo as well.

Anyway, you gotta love Jin.

Moving on.

JK tells us that 3D is different from Seven - and to look forward to it.

Wanted to thank army that came to the concert, thank K army for taking the time and supporting him.

29th September is Choseok. JK says the reason the song is released that day is he thinks we will like it more. Ok, yeah. Not the tight schedule and looming enlistment. Well, he does hint about it. Starting up about the reason it's hurried, and why he's been in a hurry, but leaves it up to our imagination. I guess we know, right? If they want to be back by mid 2025 enlistment needs to happen by at the latest start of 2024. And in the little time left he has the single and an album to release. And my guess is there is more too. Some set for before enlistment, some set to land while they are away. JM and him.

He asks "what's after this? what is it?" laughingly answering "your curious, right?"

"What is it? I am really looking forward to it." he says cheekily.

Then he says he's working hard in preparing something for us.

And then he looks down and finds the exact comment he wants to answer:

The Weverse translation is a little different.

The gist is the same.

We have JK recognizing a JM comment and answering it specifically. And I say specifically because there were PLENTY of Tae comments in his live. Layover, Tae, Slow dance, screaming at him to just say a god damn thing about Tae's album or releases. But our man, he stood fast, lol.

And don't get me wrong, I don't think he doesn't support Tae or want him to succeed. He's his bandmate and friend. But you know what he ain't, is his boyfriend. That is the one and only Mr. Park Jimin. So, it's not that JK doesn't care, it's that Tae just ain't on his mind. Wasn't it Tae that used to say, repeatedly, that JK just ignores him? Lol. But even if Tae isn't on his mind, the comments, they can definitley serve as a fucking annoying reminder. Which JK chooses very loudly to ignore. And making a statement of sorts while doing so, by reacting, out of all of those comments, to the one relating to JM.

That's what I call a big ass JK FUCK YOU to the cult.

Anyway, we were talking about JK's reaction. And when you talk about reactions you look not only at the verbal but also the body language.

The way he leans in to read the comment once he recognizes it's about JM.

The way he does that head tilt when talking about JM's dancing.

The neck crack.

The hand gesture.

Let's talk about the hand gesture for a second here.

Man knows the choreography. That hand gesture was him doing part of the choreo. Muscle memory. And his eyes and facial expression.

Also, have a look at this:

Ok, so it is funny how JK knew JM posted to IG and watched it as well... You know, considering the man told us he not only deleted his own IG account but deleted the app from his phone all together...

Thing is man monitors SM. We know that!! You think he wouldn't have seen it on Twitter? Or TikTok? JM's dance is all over the place. So yeah, my initial thought was: hey, how did he see it without an IG account? But then, you know, when common sense took over, I realised he could have seen it ANYWHERE. We know he monitors. We assume he monitors JM and Jikook accounts. He would have seen it either way.

But in any case, as I mentioned, this wouldn't have been the first and only time he has seen this choreo or dance.

JK continues to tell us he's going out for diner with staff. A good reason indeed to end the live (that like I said, he wasn't in the feels for).

And continues telling us to be curious.

Didn't someone tell him curiosity killed the cat?

At the end of the live JK makes us know he's monitoring SM (like I said before, something we already knew). He knows what fans are saying. He talks about the good. And he is thankful for those kind words.

But he also sees the bad. We know it!!

Ooh, btw, do we talk about that ring JK was wearing?

This is the second time around we have him wearing this kind of ring.

Interesting.

So to sum it up:

In those 13 minutes and a bit of his live, he mostly spoke about the performance, 3D coming out, talked to Jin in the comments and answered the comment that happened to be about JM.

I guess that wraps it up.

#Jungkook #JK #JK live #JK Weverse live #JK 3D #Jikook #kookmin #Minkook #Jimin #JM

[iucidaus]

The Heliobus Sweet Lies

Pair: Jing Yuan x You

Genre: Hurt-No comfort (well, there was an attempt at angst)

Word Count: 1,754

Warning: -

Summary: The heliobi were capable of manipulating its host, taking advantage of their deepest desire. It's hungry for every human desire including love.

You did not know that it would be this painful.

To see a green fire-like creature coming out from your lover's body, it was, for the lack of words, devastating.

No, you were not even sure if he still sees you as one, or you should see him as one since you know that everything that has happened for the last 35 years was the heliobus doing.

The sweet, raspy morning voice that would greet you first in the morning.

The sweet, lovely words he would say to reassure you.

The sweet, passionate kisses and pecks he would give to you.

The sweet, warm hugs he would provide without question.

It was all but the past now.

You froze in silence upon realization with hands still firmly-gripping Jing Yuan's shoulders, intended to help him stand up, but the scene of the green fire-like creature, the heliobus, coming out and stopped possessing Jing Yuan's body kept replaying in your head.

You internally shook your head, in an attempt to regain your composure, that matter should be dealt later. What was more important was the ball of heliobi in front of the two of you.

"General, are you okay?" You asked as you help the General to get up from his prostrated position. It was quite a thing to do to help him get up, he was exhausted and was bigger than you, so his weight was something you need to carry yourself.

Jing Yuan forcibly had to put almost all of his weight on you, and you understood why. Without ever the need to say anything, you simply commanded the Knights present to hold the heliobi while you attended the General.

You started moving your feet, bringing the limp General towards the nearest shade where a doctor was stationed by the Judge. It felt weird. For the General to stay silent, for Jing Yuan to just follow you, for your lover to-- No, he was no longer one.

When you arrived, you sat Jing Yuan down on the nearest chair, then quickly called the Warden to, "Please get him the beverage I had told the Knights to bring," and they nodded their head before leaving their place.

You turned your body to face Jing Yuan who looked like a kitten drenched in water. Though your gazes did not meet, you knew that he held this apologetic gaze that he often used when you were mad at him for not taking care of himself.

You wanted to say something, but you quickly disposed the idea as something you wanted to say was rather intimate than of concern between colleagues. Whether it be he remembered it or not, you did not want to push the idea that you and Jing Yuan used to have something.

"I--," you started which immediately gained his attention. You stared at him for a little while, daring yourself to make eye-contact with the eyes that used to hold so much affection, so much love towards yours, before breaking the eye-contact by averting your gaze towards where you two had stood.

But before you even could say anything to the General of the Luofu, some of the Knights that were holding off the Heliobi came and stated, "Greetings," one of them started. "We're sorry to interrupt you, but we came to inform that the heliobi escaped. Though the Judge were sure that they won't escape the Fyxestroll Garden, we will keep our guard up, and provide help to the Judge and their Wardens."

Ah, so you must be by Jing Yuan side at all times.

"Understood. You might rest a bit, fighting a sly creature with no physical body must be tiring," Jing Yuan said understandingly, even without you looking, you know he had that signature smile of his plastered on his face. The Knights abided his words and returned to their post after giving him a bow.

Thus, left only you two. You pondered, 'Must it be that I am the one who have to accompany him? But if I asked the Knights, the Wardens, or any of the Judges present that would be disrespectful not only for me, but for Jing Yuan and the Judges too,' so you stopped thinking after having the answer to your question.

Although you stood quite far from your General, you noticed his glances on you, you were unsure how you got this sixth sense kind of thing, but you were sure that he had something he wanted to say. However, you decided to ignore it as you currently had no intention to talk to him.

Alas, he wanted to talk to you.

"Are you okay, (y/n)? Something troubling you?" He called you by your name. His voice was sweet, or maybe it was just your biased opinion, and full of concern. Perhaps your face showed a clear expression of distress, well, you would not say you were shocked, he got a sharp eyes.

When you two first met and the relationship was simply between colleagues, he would call you by your family name. Thus, the fact that he called you by your first name gave you hope. A hope that perhaps he remembered everything ever happening between you two for the last 35 years.

But, then, another realization hit you, in the last 35 years, he called you by 'my dear' and only ever occassionally called you by your first name.

Thus, all hopes had been lost, and somehow you felt like you were already used to this despite only ever experiencing this roller-coaster of emotion just a few minutes ago.

You sighed, readying yourself to engage in a conversation with someone you did not wish to see. "Sharp eyes as ever, General," you began, putting a fake smile on your face. "Of course I have something in my mind, we're dealing with heliobi and they're scattered across the Luofu as we speak, how could I not think of them?" You tried your best to reason. It sounded logical, but he also had sharp senses and you knew it. Any lie he could sense easily, and you could only hope that he would not find out and pry.

Thankfully, he did what you wished, although by the looks of it, he knew you were hiding something. "I see, I too think about the heliobi. How did they manage to escape the matrix, I wonder?"

"I'll go see to it," you volunteered, willing to do anything but facing Jing Yuan, so you left without saying anything else without waiting for permission from Jing Yuan.

15 meters from where the pavilion Jing Yuan was in, there was a broken matrix. As unsure as you were if this matrix was the main cause of the problem, you were sure that this matrix has something to do with the incident. You noticed one or two missing talismans which could only signify that the seal was weaken due to some ignorant parties.

You mentally take note of the condition of the matrix to later inform the Judge and Jing Yuan.

"My dear," a familiar voice called you, and your body stiffen. You hoped that it was not clear enough lest he would notice, and that was precisely something you did not want. You turned your head slowly, and there stood Jing Yuan, seemingly to have recovered from his injury.

"That seems to be your contact name in my phone," he added, right when you thought he remembered every 'good morning's he told you, every kind words he said to you, every kisses he planted on you, every hugs he gave you.

Just when you thought.

You forced a laugh groggily, the first time ever since you stood by his side. "Ah... that. I was just messing around with your phone," a terrible excuse, you knew, and he did not let your life easier anyway.

"But, the chat did not suggest so."

"...H-how are you doing? Feeling better than before?" You desperately tried to change the topic of the conversation, but he was persistent on keeping the topic. Your question was ignored by his own musings.

"It's... the heliobus doing, isn't it?" And there was this glint of sadness in his voice, a sadness that made you pity your state. A silence was the only kind of answer you could give to him, not wholly ready to face the truth.

"Sorry, I don't have any recollection on this part," Jing Yuan said, looking at you right in the eyes. You averted your gaze once you saw that same sadness in his voice present in his eyes.

"Haha... don't be sorry for something that is not yours, General," you tried to reassure him, and you let silence filled the air. It stayed that way, until Jing Yuan said.

"We can start it anew."

You were unsure whether it was because he was purely oblivious or he felt guilty or he pitied you, all you were sure was that you did not want to force him into loving you or force yourself to be comfortable around him while knowing full well that his heart was not there for you.

"Haha..." your dry laughter died down as fast as it appeared. How pathetic you must have looked right now. "Sorry, but if your heart isn't there, then I don't want to give it a chance."

"I don't want to taste another sweet lies," you ended your sentence with voice just above whisper.

This whole conversation hurted you, you did not want to converse with him, but seemingly had no other choice since he seemed to deliberately ignoring all your signals. Seeing his face alone hurted you, it forcefully made you recall everything that happened in the last 35 years, every smile he once gave. Hearing his voice hurted you more, it forcefully made you remember the way he used to call you. Looking into his eyes hurted you even worse, it forcefully made you remember every love it once held.

Seeing it now was no longer would do nothing but cut your heart.

Another silence fell between you two, and you knew he was still looking at you with that same gaze, with that same emotion it held.

You let out a chuckle, "Don't look at me like that, you're making me look pathetic," and you did not know what kind of emotion he displayed, but you could only pray that this time he would let you go.

"Yes, I'm feeling better," he said. "The matrix, what happened to it?" He finally relented.

#honkai star rail #jing yuan #hsr jing yuan #jing yuan imagines #jing yuan scenarios #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #jing yuan x y/n

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

I love your Astarion work! I was curious if you could write a semi lengthy (if possible) angst/jealous Astarion x Tav/Reader??? Also hurt reader/Tav is always great too. I crave comfort lol

I hope you like it!

Rated: M

Warnings: spoilers for dark ending, transformation, vampiric

The manor is oppressive, heavy as if a ball and chain are leashed to your neck forcing you to bow, this place screams for submission. The want to give in, to let go, be controlled, dominated. It sickens you as Astarion guides you around the home of all his trauma. Naturally, you want to comfort him, hold his hand, and squeeze it to reassure him. However, this is not the time or place. The deeper you both travel into the bowels of Cazador’s palace, the heavier this weight is on your back, choking you as if you misbehaved.

Then came the cells. The sins of the past stabbed and twisted between Astarion’s ribs nicking his heart.

He is distant… You try to tell him this isn’t his fault, that Cazador is to blame. He was used just like they are.

The rules of being a vampire do not help as it is revealed what happened to Cazador’s master is part of the cycle to learn, adapt, and succeed. The rule of two where one will kill the other and repeat the cycle with another. The throne of blood you pray Astarion wants nothing to do with as he sees what is the cost of power.

The Black Mass is unholy and you silently pray to Lathander for his radiance to shine and burn that bastard Szarr to ashes.

Wishful thinking as the moment you enter the ritual chambers things go south, fast.

With now all seven of his spawn, he is strong-- Stronger and though using the spells and holy water do weaken him (barely), he is stronger than most foes.

"Perhaps after my ascension, I shall take your spawn friend as my own." The taunt is spoken during the battle as you struggle to keep up and your hirelings are spread out fighting the summoned bats, werewolves, and ghouls. The words are intended to be salt upon the wound as Astarion is helpless to fight against his master and this ritual. The screams do not help, the blood in the air does not help, and…

You… Are afraid.

This is too close to what happened to you, at the temple of Kanchelsis. Your master was pleased to watch as you writhed in agony as you turned into the beast you are. A vampire who shares the bestial madness of a werewolf.

Being tossed into a column like nothing as the vampire lord takes special interest in attacking you. Your body is in pain, bruises with internal bleeding, and the mental fear is keeping you on the ground struggling to get up. The laugh echoes, your vision blurring, and when you blink you… See your master standing above you with the bat-shaped head of the staff making you tilt your head up.

“Stay right there.”

He… He is going to win… He is going to ascend…

He is going to kill Astarion!

You must push on! Every muscle in your body protesting as you get up, your blood spilling as your form shifts to that beast, bigger, deformed, and grotesque. The whispers of the dark father in the back of your mind as you roared like a beast unleashed from its cage. Jaheira had been teaching you druidic magic as it seemed you had a talent for it. Seems that comes from the beast within, it hungers and Cazador looks like the perfect toy to chew on.

There is a cost, you know it, this power is tapping into the essence of vampirism. The beast, the hunger that comes with the gift and blessing of Kanchelsis; that cost you care not about, not now. No longer will you allow yourself to be chained down by the memories of the years of torture and abuse!

Astarion needs you, you need him, and you need each other.

Damn the cost! Damn this place, damn everything!

The beast roars with rage! An animal instinct as it recognizes Astarion as the mate, a mate in danger.

The slaughter is fighting to this bat-shaped form you are in, Cazador can’t keep up even in his mist form. When you try to rip his head off or attempt to fly and grab him; he knows how to flee.

“Scurry and scatter like rats!” Your voice is not your own, it is the beast that relishes in the hunt this lordling provides.

There are points when you blackout, in and out of a waking dream, then when the bloodlust no longer consumes your body and mind. Your body is back to normal but the wounds are worse, you need blood soon in order to properly heal.

“Wake up!”

Astarion. The sigh of relief hurts though it is being healed, well attempted to, away by the hireling cleric. Your eyes watch the scene of long-awaited and overdue revenge take place.

“I need your help.” His voice does not hide the desperation, the need.

This was your warning, you should have told him to stop or… You can’t raise a claw against him. There is too much between you to end it with steel or claw. So your eyes and mind are his to see through.

It is through those he seals his fate and the fate of seven thousand souls.

#fanfiction #reader insert #astarion #anon ask #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3

[sm8th0p]

my treat - simon “ghost” riley x fem!reader

a/n: the mental image of simon in a puffer jacket, hoodie and beanie had been stuck in my head for ages so i had to write something 🗣 not proofread bc its exactly 2:45 in the morning (goodnight)

desc: bumping into ghost at the cafe, and him insisting to treat you on your drink and single muffin.

warnings: none <3

you woke up to the sounds of birds softly chirping, and the sun landing softly on your skin. the sheets were somehow both cold and warm under your touch as you stretched under the comfy covers.

“that’s a start to a good morning,” right after you thought of that, your stomach made one of the loudest grumble you’ve ever heard. chortling, you got out of bed, already planning to pick up a drink and a muffin from the cafe around the corner.

you walked your usual path, and today it was peaceful. aside from dog walkers -one of the reasons why you loved this route- not many people were around and it just made you even more happier.

as you walked into the cafe and queuing in the line, the door bell rang behind you, and you could’ve sworn you heard the whole cafe gone dead silent. you paid no mind to it though, until a familiar voice caught your attention.

you heard the voice say your name, and just from that one word, you could discern who was behind you without looking. the deep tone, his accent was heavy in his voice, and it somehow made your heart thumped by just thinking of his presence.

you turned around and sure enough, ghost was standing there with his eyes hooded, looking down at you and his head slightly tilted side in confusion. if your heart thumped earlier, the sight of him wearing a hoodie and a puffer jacket made it leap out of your chest. it made him look like a snuggly giant. scary, but snuggly.

one thing that remained unchanged about his appearance, his skull balaclava was still present. “ghost?” you questioned, and he replied by saying your name again, softer. you raised your eyebrows before shifting slightly and inviting him to stand right by your side. not sure whether that was a mistake or not, but now you had to crane your neck to talk to him.

“fancy seeing you here.” you started with a smile, unable to fight it. he hummed as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “come by this place every week. i didn’t know you buy from here too .” he said beneath the mask. you weren’t looking at him as he spoke, busy stuffing your phone into your bag. as you looked back up, his eyes immediately caught your attention as they looked straight into yours.

your heart skipped as he stared longer. god, his eyes were beautiful.

“i don’t usually go out this early.” you said and adverted your gaze to your front. you could see him tilt his head at you out of the corner of your view. “early? it’s 9 in the morning-“

“we’re not at work, L.t. stop judging my lifestyle.” you retorted, playfully rolling your eyes. an exhale came out of him, which you thought as a chuckle. your thoughts were running around and you didn’t realise you were at the front of the line already.

the cashier greeted the both of you, before asking for your orders. “a small earl grey. to go.” ghost answered beside you. of course, tea. you snorted internally. then you felt multiple gazes on you, waiting for your order. “oh-“ you told the cashier your order, your favourite drink and a muffin of your choice. as she was tapping in the orders, you felt ghost shifted closer and bent down a bit so he was right by your height.

“still in your bed, are ya?” he whispered in your ear and you felt the heat rushed towards the ends of them. as an attempt to make yourself looked like you weren’t a blushing wreck, you scoffed and turned your head to look at him, only to be greeted with the close distance between the two of you. only a few inches and your lips would be touchi-

“wake up, sleepyhead.” he said flatly before turning back to the cashier as she told the amount.

you snapped out of it and slightly shook your head, trying to clear up whatever that you were lost in earlier. right before he could hand the cash to the cashier, you were ready to tap your card at the machine. then you heard ghost’s tone, it was the tone then he used to command the squad, stern and sharp.

“i’m paying.” it wasn’t a statement, but an order. jokes on him, you didn’t have to follow his orders outside of missions. you narrowed your eyes, slowly bringing your hand closer to the machine. he spoke again, saying your name in a low tone, one that made your stomach flutter with butterflies. yet you didn’t budge.

he deadpanned before gently hold your wrist to halt your movement and giving his money to the cashier, saying “my treat,” as a matter of fact-ly. you clicked your tongue as you put away your card.

“cash? what are you, a dinosaur?”

you mumbled under your breath, and ghost looked at you right after. you met his gaze and saw him raised his eyebrows in expectancy, as if he was saying ‘seriously?’ without words. you grumbled and grudgingly thanked him, to which he hummed in content.

ghost shortly threw his gaze over his shoulder, taking note that the both of you weren’t holding the line, no one witnessing the little dispute.

“you’re a stubborn woman, y’know that?” a dramatic gasp escaped your lips. “what?” “you heard me, love.” he sneered. a stubborn, beautiful woman. not that he’ll admit that out loud, at least not yet.

love. damn him and his deep voice, making everything he said sound twice as attractive. don’t forget that accent too. “stubborn, you say?” you quirked an eyebrow, challenging him. he grunted a reply. “fine. just to make sure, you’re paying for my food, yeah?” “yes ma’am.” he nodded.

“perfect.” you smiled and turned to the cashier. “excuse me, can i add another order?” she nodded cheerily. ghost’s eyes followed your pointer finger as you held it up to his face before pointing it to the display case filled with all kinds of pastries, swiping it from one end to the other. “i’ll have one from each of these, please.”

you looked back at your lieutenant to see him rear his head back and widened his eyes.

“you’re paying, right, riley?” the grin on your face were a contrast to the venom dripping from your tone.

the scowl on his lips were visible even with the mask on. sure, you felt a bit evil but one of the reasons why you liked this cafe was because everything there weren’t expensive, so this wouldn’t be nothing but a tiny dent in his wallet. maybe.

he exhaled deeply and brought a hand to the bridge of his nose, briefly massaging it before speaking again. “..make them to go.” ghost said to the cashier, to which she turned to you, as if to confirm his words. i mean he’s paying, the least you could do was to agree with that. “yes, to go.” you said to the cashier as you clasped you hands close to your chest in excitement.

ghost side-eyed your figure. thank the lord you’re bloody adorable, and that he liked y- tolerated you. if it was anybody else, he wouldn’t even walked into the cafe. maybe for soap, but it would’ve taken a helluvalot of convincing from him. but no, it was you.

“god.” he breathed, to which you laughed heartedly. “call me stubborn again, i dare you.” you said as you perched your hands on your hips. “you two are such a cute couple.” the cashier chimed as she packed your order.

no one had ever told you that, even when you were around other task force members. they were either terrified of how you would react, or they simply didn’t mind the friendly relationship you had with the lieutenant. but the world ‘couple’ referencing to you and ghost made your heart skipped a beat.

“oh- we’re not a couple.” you blurted, way too fast for your liking. you noticed the lack of reply from ghost, and found him only looking at you with his arms crossed over his jacket. the fact that he wasn’t denying it made you avert your gaze as the heat settled on your cheeks.

the second the cashier placed the paper bags of your orders on the counter, ghost thanked her and took them before you could even process it. he was already walking to the door when you realised he took your food.

“hey-“ “the least you could do is share them.” he spoke gruffly as he walked past you. share? the audacity of this man. “that’s not very ‘my treat’ of you!” you raised your tone, trying to catch up to his long strides. you cursed under your breath as you borderline ran to him. ghost wasn’t even jogging, but he was power walking away with your food as if he was holding them hostage.

“ghost- slow down goddamit!” you yelled with a smile on your lips. he threw a glance at your figure before picking up his speed, heading into a park near the cafe. the sight of this snuggly giant of man carefully holding multiple paperbags, running at full speed ripped a laughter out of you.

you threw a playful punch at his shoulder right after you caught up with him, immediately kneeling down and checking your pastries and drinks that he placed on a bench.

“you could’ve ruined them with your power walk.” you scowled, relieved that they were still in perfect shape. “power walk? i was casually strolling.” he said nonchalantly. you huffed in laughter before taking a seat and eagerly unpack all the pastries.

he chuckled at your excitement and took a seat at the other end of the bench, before assisting you with the rest of them. “thank you, riley. really, you didn’t have to.” you said softly. he didn’t reply, but you could see the way his eyes crinkled as he smiled underneath the skull balaclava.

this was really a good morning after all.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #cod mwii #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #simon riley fluff #simon riley #ghost mw2