#she did NOT want to be like her own mother
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𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐘 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐍? | chapter three
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: art donaldson x female!reader x patrick zweig
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’ve always been content being second place to your best friend tashi duncan, waiting for the day you can quit tennis. your world is upended when you meet art and patrick, and you’re forced to embrace a life in the sport you’ve been too afraid to claim for yourself.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.5k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): challengers content warnings, reader wears shorts and a t-shirt, swearing, underage drinking, kissing, mentions of controlling mother, mentions of mutual masturbation (minors DNI), use of y/n
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: kind of nervous to post my version of the iconic hotel scene but i hope you all like it!!
𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭
𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐋 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 𝟐𝟎𝟔. 𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐒, 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐑𝐊 – 𝐒𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟎, 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟔. 𝟏𝟐:𝟏𝟓𝐀𝐌.
“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” you hissed as you followed Tashi down the corridor of the dingy hotel you were staying at. You marched behind your best friend in light blue and white striped pyjama shorts, a white fitted t-shirt, fuzzy socks, and your favourite slippers.
“What can I say? My persuasive abilities started getting better since we became friends,” she retorted, rolling her eyes and smirking. “I guess you’re a good influence on me!”
You sighed, crossing your arms defensively and staring at the door of Room 206 once you arrived. “Tashi, this is insane,” you insisted, keeping your voice down in case Art and Patrick overheard. “They’re just going to be annoyed that I’m here. Plus, I’m going to have to entertain the leftover guy when you eventually pick one to make out with! You know how I feel about small talk with strangers.”
“You weren’t complaining at the beach,” Tashi pointed out. “Or when I was taking pictures with the trophy. And shut up, they’re not going to be annoyed you’re there, they want you to come!” She paused, trying not to laugh. “Literally and euphemistically.”
You groaned at her joke. “I’m getting a strong vibe that we’re about to star in our own horror movie. Exit, stage left!”
Your best friend crossed her arms. “Why did you come with me if you don’t want to see them?”
“Because I’d be a really shitty friend if I let you get murdered by yourself,” you argued, naively hoping Tashi wouldn’t recognise your go-to tactic of using humour to avoid confronting your emotions. “For the rest of my life, people are going to see me on the street and say, ‘That’s Y/N Y/L/N, the girl who let beloved tennis star Tashi Duncan become a cautionary tale instead of going to those guys’ room with her. What a bitch.’”
Tashi grinned. “You like them, don’t you? You really like them.” Before you could argue, she knocked on the door four times.
You grabbed Tashi’s arm and asked her, “Are you sure about this?”
“What’s the worst that could happen?” she challenged you, raising an eyebrow. “Think about it. Really give it a second. If they’re boring, we’ll leave. If they’re annoying, we’ll leave. If they’re being gross, we’ll leave. We have all the power here, Y/I.”
You frowned. “We do?”
As if proving her point, Tashi knocked on the door again before motioning for you to press your ear against it. You listened as Art and Patrick scrambled to tidy their room. Tashi covered her mouth so she wouldn’t laugh too loudly.
“Y/I, they’re literally obsessed with you. Everything’s going to be fine!”
“Wait!” a muffled cry sounded behind the door.
“Oh, shit,” a second voice added.
You grinned, listening to their pounding footsteps approaching the door. You stepped back just in time for Art to wrench the door open.
“Hi,” he greeted.
Patrick appeared a millisecond after him. “Hey!”
The pair of best friends were dishevelled, their hair still ruffled from hurriedly pulling on shirts, and their chests heaving slightly from the effort of a last-minute clean-up they were trying to conceal. Their appearances betrayed the frantic scramble to present a semblance of order in their room, and their efforts made you bite your lip to hide a growing smile. Most notably, their eyes were just as intense as you remembered, locking onto yours with a piercing gaze that sent a shiver down your spine.
Breaking their entranced stare, Tashi wondered, “Can we come in?”
You were quickly ushered inside and invited to sit on the carpeted floor. With amused, slightly confused eyes, you looked at Tashi and tilted your head, wondering why they were fussing so much. She rolled her eyes, mouthing the word, whipped, and gesturing to you. Soon, the boys settled on the carpet opposite you and Tashi, forming a natural square as they opened the can of beer they promised you.
Feeling awkward, you scanned the room and registered the twin beds pushed together with interest, suspicious after seeing Art and Patrick’s state of undress. Both were in their boxers and had shirts carelessly thrown on. Patrick’s shirt wasn’t even buttoned, revealing his toned torso with pride.
“We aren’t interrupting something, are we?” you wondered, eyes flitting between the best friends with an amused smile.
“Of course not,” Art was quick to deny your insinuation. When you spotted the shower cap covering the hotel smoke detector and frowned, he realised it wasn’t just that you didn’t smoke. You hated cigarettes and smoking. “We were just–”
“Passing the time,” Patrick filled in when Art hesitated.
“Right.”
“Exactly.”
“Did you guys go to, like, Mommy And Me classes together?” Tashi wondered, eliciting laughter from everyone in the room. Patrick took a sip of his beer, grinning. “What? You just seem like brothers.”
Their bond reminded Tashi of her friendship with you, and that was a rare feat.
“Well, that’s what the Mark Rebellato Tennis Academy will do for you,” Art said in a musical tone, smirking at Patrick beside him.
Tashi chuckled. “Oh. Right, right, right. You guys went to boarding school.”
“We’ve been bunkmates since we were twelve, so…” Patrick trailed off, shrugging.
“Hence the closeness,” you completed his sentence. “That’s cool!”
“Very cute,” Tashi agreed.
“You two ever think about doing something like that?” Art asked before drinking the can he got from Patrick.
“Boarding school?” Tashi shook her head. “No. No, no, no. We couldn’t afford it. And even if I could get a scholarship or something, there’s no way that my parents would want me coming of age in an environment like that,” she added, gesturing with her hands.
Patrick’s eyebrows pulled together. “Why? What were they afraid of?” Tashi lifted her eyebrows and nodded, silently pointing out the obvious. “Oh, yeah. Right!” Everyone laughed at that. “What about you?”
Usually, when a group of people had their eyes on you, it made you incredibly anxious. Sitting here with Art, Patrick, and Tashi felt safe. You weren’t worried about expressing your true thoughts or wearing the protective mask you had created over the years.
“I wish they would have sent me to boarding school,” you mused, rolling your eyes. “If my mother had it her way she would have homeschooled me and never taught me anything other than how to hit a ball across the net. I’d be a living, breathing tennis machine if it was up to her.”
“Ah.” Patrick nodded. “Right.”
“Luckily my dad convinced her that my education is just as important as a tennis career, so I got sent to a cushy private school nearby that was lenient enough to let me miss classes for competitions,” you added. “It was actually pretty great, I loved going to school. Getting into Stanford was a lifelong dream come true.”
“Really?” Art asked, grinning. He ran a hand through his curls and gave you the beer next. You were sitting so close that your bare knees brushed once in a while, sending a jolt through your body like a shot of espresso each time.
“What? Do I not seem like the brainy type?” you retorted, passing the can of beer on to Tashi after taking a sip.
“No, no, no–”
“I’ll have you know I was my class salutatorian, and just three months ago I gave a speech at graduation that was so beautiful it made everyone cry,” you bragged.
Art and Patrick couldn’t keep their eyes off you as you relaxed around them, your bare face free of makeup and your smile illuminating the room with a natural, effortless beauty. You were enchanting when you were at ease, making their heart swell with admiration. Every time your skin touched Art’s, it stirred something insatiable in him.
“Oh, it was heart-wrenching,” Tashi agreed. “Y/I is the only person I know at that school and I still teared up. She’s brilliant, she would’ve gotten into Stanford even without tennis.” Grateful, you leaned your head on her shoulder and kissed her cheek.
“At least now we finally get to play on the same team,” you mentioned happily.
“So how long have you two been friends?” Patrick questioned, motioning between you and Tashi. “Did you meet through tennis?”
“We met when I kicked T’s ass when we were fourteen,” you informed them, grinning teasingly at your best friend and lifting your head from her shoulder.
“I think that might be my favourite match I ever played,” Tashi confessed fondly.
You sat up straight, looking at your best friend and gaping. “Are you serious?!”
Tashi Duncan, the woman who lived and breathed tennis and trophies, had the most fun during a tennis match when she lost? It didn’t make sense, even to you, her best friend of four years.
“Definitely! You were the first person I met who played me and actually challenged me. I lost that game and I just thought, ‘I have to meet this girl. I’ve never played against someone who loves this game as much as me before, and there’s no way in hell I’m letting her go.’”
“Wow.” Patrick nodded, impressed. “That’s as good as the whole boarding school bond.”
Tashi grinned, turning to him with narrowed eyes. “So, is that where you met your girlfriend?” If Patrick was going to pursue her best friend, Tashi needed to get to the bottom of his romantic situation.
“Oh, she’s not my, um…” Patrick glanced at Art as the blond crossed his arms and leaned in close, looking pleasantly smug that someone had called him out. “Yeah, yeah.”
“And you? Why aren’t you pretending not to have a girlfriend?” Tashi questioned Art, taking another sip of her beer.
“Art’s in between ladies.”
It didn’t surprise you that Art and Patrick were popular with the girls at their school; not only were they ranked fifth and second in the juniors, but they were magnetically charming and wonderful to look at.
“Oh, no, no–” Art pointed at his best friend, resenting the tone Patrick took on– “That makes it sound like I’m some sort of–”
“Player,” Tashi suggested.
“Pompous promiscuous philanderer,” you offered an alternative. Tashi and Patrick giggled, enjoying your alliteration.
“Yeah.”
“Yeah, Art does fine for himself,” Patrick added happily. “I mean, look at him–” he reached over to touch Art’s face and was immediately pushed away.
“So…” Tashi looked expectantly between the boys. “How often does this happen?” she inquired, motioning her pointer finger in a circle to indicate the situation you now found yourselves in. “Going after the same girls?”
“Not as often as you think, actually.”
“Really?” you exclaimed.
“No.”
“Yeah, no, we, uh…” Art grinned. “We usually have different types,” he revealed.
“Hmm. So you’re saying we should be flattered?” Tashi teased.
You sat up, holding your hand up as if you were taking an oath. “I know I am,” you played up the ridicule Tashi had started. “The thought that two teenage boys might both be interested in me? That’s about as rare as tennis balls at practice!”
“Or sunshine in California,” Tashi chimed, referencing more common things to hammer the point home.
“Boys are too easy,” you commented. “All it takes is boobs to capture their interest, that’s it.”
Art risked a look at you and grinned broadly. “Isn’t that just because you’re everybody’s type?” he retorted. His candied gaze swept your body languidly, lingering on the boobs you just referenced. You felt your cheeks warm at the attention, equally stunned and impressed by his gall.
“Ah, yes. Many have tried and none have succeeded thus far,” Tashi reported, handing the can of beer back to you. “Y/N’s very picky when it comes to guys. They don’t tend to stick around, and not because they don’t want to.”
That caught Patrick’s attention. “Oh, really? You have a specific type, do you?” He glanced at you with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.
You tried not to stare at his lithe body, stretched out and perfectly on display. “Of course,” you agreed readily. “Only the best for me. Six foot one, brunet, build like a god–”
“So far so good,” Patrick mused, pleased with your description.
“Spanish,” Tashi added helpfully. At that, Patrick deflated.
You pointed at her, nodding enthusiastically. “Right, thanks! Yes, Spanish–” You paused to recall what attributes you might have forgotten. “Youngest French Open winner in history–”
At that, Art burst into laughter. “No fucking way! You’re just describing Nadal,” he accused.
Patrick groaned, rolling his eyes. “Oh, come on! I thought you were being serious.”
You smirked, shrugging and sharing a pleased look with Tashi. “What can I say, I like winners,” you teased, not meaning it. “With glorious biceps.”
“So glorious,” Tashi agreed through her laughter.
You smiled and shook your head. “No, I don’t have a type. I’ve just never met anyone who wanted me for something other than my looks or status, so I didn’t ask any of them to stay.” Art and Patrick nodded, sympathising with you.
“What about the two of you?” Tashi inquired, motioning between the pair.
Still smiling, Art asked, “What do you mean?”
“You know…” you nodded intentionally. “Beds pushed together, hanging out with minimal clothing. Have you ever…?”
Patrick’s smile slipped a little, and he tilted his head, thinking it over. Art seemed startled by the suggestion. “Oh! No,” he declared. More awkwardly than you expected them to, they laughed. “No. Why? Is that surprising?”
“Not surprising,” you mused. “You just seem very…”
“Close,” Tashi implied.
Everyone turned to look at Patrick, waiting for his input. As you observed his expression, you noticed a subtle tension in his features, hinting that he was restraining himself beneath the surface.
“What?” you wondered, too curious to hold back.
“Well–”
“No,” Art interjected. His smile was long gone, and a deadpan expression kissed his features. He shook his head, looking more severe than you thought the blond was capable of. Perhaps that was the real reason he was ice in their dynamic…
“I mean–”
“No,” Art insisted. Patrick spluttered, trying to get a word in as nervous chortles escaped him. “Patrick, no.”
Still laughing, Patrick said, “Sorry.”
“Yes,” Tashi encouraged happily.
“No.”
“I think you need to tell us now,” she added.
“It sounds way too good to hold back,” you excitedly agreed.
“No.”
Patrick reached for the beer and looked at his best friend with a delighted smile. “I think it’s a sweet story,” he remarked.
“Uh-huh,” Art agreed sarcastically, putting his head in his hand to hide his face from you. “All right.”
“Well, let’s hear it,” Tashi exclaimed excitedly.
Embarrassed, Art allowed it, “Yeah, no, go ahead.”
“Uh…” Patrick and Art spluttered, dissolving into awkward laughter. “I taught Art how to jerk off,” Patrick confessed. You stared at him in surprise, not having expected that answer. “So…”
To avoid your eyes, Patrick drank his beer, and Art hid the bottom half of his face inside his grey Stanford t-shirt. As you and Tashi exchanged amused glances, a silent understanding passed between you, your eyes alight with shared delight. At that moment, the dynamic in the group shifted, and you realised Tashi had been right.
Whether or not you believed her earlier, you had the power here; you were in control.
“I think I need a little more than that,” you admitted, testing the waters and not wanting to push them too far.
Art’s head popped up. “Okay,” he began, making you and Tashi howl with laughter at his sudden 180. “Patrick was an early bloomer–” Art pointed an accusatory finger at his best friend, who smirked– “Okay? And I think that I was on time. And one time–” he emphasised that it only happened once– “When we were twelve, he thought I was asleep and he was, you know…”
“Jerking off,” they chorused.
“And, yeah… And I asked him, ‘What are you doing?’ And he told me. He’s…”
Again, in unison, they said, “Jerking off.”
You bit your lip to suppress your laughter.
“He asked me if I had ever done it before.” Art snickered as he spoke. “And I told him no. And so, he just… He showed me how.” When he was done, Art finally looked up at you and Tashi. Proudly, Patrick nodded, confirming the story.
Tashi stared. “What do you mean he showed you how?” she wondered, mimicking how Art had pronounced the words. You looked behind you at their beds pushed together and nodded, also wanting to know the specifics.
Spotting your sideways glance, Art quickly defended himself, “No. I mean–”
“Well–”
“I mean, he did it on his bed–” Art pointed to the left to indicate where Patrick’s bed was in their room. “I did it on my bed–” he gestured to the right, purposely creating distance between their beds in the story– “We did it together, but like on opposite sides in the room.”
“Yeah. Mm-hmm.” Patrick wagged a finger and assented with a nod. Your eyes travelled south as he adjusted his underwear, and you raised a sceptical eyebrow at the timing.
“You know.” Art cleared his throat loudly.
Tashi was entranced by the story, finding it more entertaining as they provided further details. “Silent?” she inquired, astonished.
“Oh, no, no!”
“No, no!” The boys laughed.
“No, we were talking about Kat, weren’t we?” Art recalled.
Patrick pointed and agreed, “Kat Zimmerman!”
“Patrick said it’s always better–”
“Yeah.”
“–if you’re, like, thinking about somebody when you’re doing it. And so I asked him who you’re thinking about, and he was talking about this girl–”
“Kat Zimmerman,” they recited in harmony.
“And so, I thought about her, too.”
“Wow,” you and Tashi intoned in unison, rendered speechless by their story.
“Yeah…”
“Okay.” As the bolder of the two of you, Tashi had no problem probing them for further information, even if it was embarrassing. “And who finished first?”
“Oh, I don’t remember–”
“I think you,” Patrick cut in.
The air crackled with tension as Patrick and Art’s gazes locked in a loaded stare, the weight of the personal revelation hanging between them.
“Is this a normal thing guys do?” you wondered, changing the subject so as not to dwell on Art’s embarrassment. “What happened afterwards?”
Patrick chuckled as Art shook his head. “I think Art was a little surprised by the whole thing,” he revealed, telling the rest of the story through unsuccessfully suppressed laughter. “He was–” another chortle escaped him; Art hid his face in his shirt again– “He was just sitting there covered in all of it.”
Tashi laughed. “What?!”
“He looked like a kid who’d spilled milk all over his lap!”
As the four of you roared with laughter at the hilarious story, Art couldn’t help but yell, “Jesus, Patrick!”
The shared laughter unexpectedly deepened the bond between the four of you; the tension that had previously hung in the air dissipated, replaced by a sense of camaraderie and closeness thanks to the reverberating giggles. The story was rooted in innocence and exploration that made you feel at ease in Art and Patrick’s company, forging connections that transcended your brief acquaintance with them.
It was easy to fall into place with them and feel like you belonged.
“I knew enough already at this point to have a sock nearby, right? Forgot to tell Art about that part,” Patrick added.
“Yeah. Mm-hmm.” Art took turns burying his face in his t-shirt and letting himself laugh in the open.
“Yeah, so…”
“Right. Okay.” Tashi grinned ear to ear. “And what about Miss Zimmerman?” She reached over to take the beer from Patrick’s grasp. “What ever happened to her? You guys…” Tashi trailed off.
Patrick shook his head. “Neither of us… She got injured a week later and had to quit.”
You frowned a little. “Really? That’s terrible!”
To cheer you up, Patrick quickly assured you, “She wasn’t very good in the first place.”
“No, she sucked,” Art agreed. “Yeah.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah, no, you’re right. That is a very cute story,” Tashi gave them her stamp of approval.
Patrick quietly laughed. “Thanks. What about you two?” he turned the tables on you. Art perked up at the suggestion.
You rolled your eyes. “You wish,” you waved them off.
“We really do,” Art joked.
“No, me and Tashi are soulmates for sure, but nothing like you two ever happened,” you clarified. “It can’t be explained by platonic love, but it’s not romance either. We’re just…” you paused, trying to find the right words for it. “Two halves of a whole, completing each other.”
“It’s actually really crazy,” Tashi chimed in. “I was going through life thinking something was missing, and when we met I realised I wasn’t a whole person until I had Y/N in my life.”
“Wow,” Art mumbled quietly, entranced by how you and Tashi spoke about your relationship.
“Have you ever met someone and it feels like they’ve been a part of your life forever, even though you just met?” you added, hoping to paint an accurate picture for Art and Patrick. They smiled fondly, making brief eye contact and nodding. “That’s what it’s like with me and Tashi. We just click, you know? We always did. Like two pieces of a puzzle. I can’t explain it, but being with her just feels right.”
“Same here,” Tashi added happily. “It’s like she’s the mirror–” she motioned from her chest to you for emphasis– “reflecting the best parts of me back at myself. Without her, I’m not sure I’d recognise the person staring back at me.”
You smiled affectionately at your best friend, going to retrieve the beer from her but finding it empty. “Oh,” you exclaimed. “We’re out of beer.”
The boys looked at each other unsurely. “Um…”
Tashi glanced at you expectantly, and without speaking, you could tell what she was telling you. We have all the power here, Y/I. You were more aware of this truth than ever but didn’t know how to proceed. You thought to yourself, if you were as bold and confident as Tashi, what would you do?
You got to your feet, suddenly looking down at your new friends. You weren’t sure if it was the minimal beer in your bloodstream – combined with the champagne you and Tashi snuck at her party a couple hours ago – but your heart raced, palms growing clammy as nervous excitement coursed through your veins. The anticipation was almost too much to bear. Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you gathered your courage, feeling a flutter in your stomach as you sat on their beds.
When Art and Patrick stared at you with awe-filled eyes, you smiled. “You know, it feels a little lonely up here without you–” You barely got the words out when Patrick took a seat on your left, Art joining you on your other side right after. “I don’t believe that you don’t go after the same girls for a single second,” you admitted, carefully studying the boys’ faces. “But there is something I’m curious about.”
“What?” they chorused.
“Who the better kisser is,” you revealed. You heard Patrick and Art’s breath catching in their throats and looked at Tashi on the floor with a surprised grin. “Feel like joining us, T?”
Smirking proudly at your nerve, Tashi rested her hands on the carpet and leaned back to observe. “I’m good here,” she declined your offer, preferring to watch from her spot on the floor. Tashi knew those boys were there for one girl only, and it wasn’t her. “Don’t let me interrupt.”
“So… who wants to go first?” you offered.
Painfully desperate to kiss you, Art whispered, “Please.” It was like he didn’t realise he had said it.
You turned to him, admiring his features. Art’s face was flushed with a deep, rosy hue, his adoring eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that spoke of pure, unwavering worship. It was as if the entire world had vanished, and all he could see – all he could focus on – was you, the girl who had captivated his soul. Your heart pounded at the sight of his unadulterated emotions, wishing you could be so open with your own.
“Since you asked so nicely,” you replied, letting your eyes flit between Art’s deep blue eyes and pink lips before closing the space between you and kissing him.
Your lips met softly, a gentle brush that made you both shiver. For a moment, Art couldn’t think; his senses were overwhelmed with the pillowy touch of your lips and the fact that you kissed him first, not Patrick. The warmth of his touch ignited a spark in you as he swept his thumbs across your cheeks affectionately, caressing you to ensure that you were real and not just a part of his imagination. The subtle scent of something characteristically Art was intoxicating, and you deepened the kiss, parting your lips slightly and shifting closer. Like they did when you sat on the carpet next to him, your knees touched, and his skin felt scorching hot.
Getting bolder, Art ran his hands up your bare thighs, sighing against your mouth at the feeling of the warm expanse of your legs. Your cheeks and legs felt hot; it was like all the warmth in your body was flowing to the areas where Art was touching you. It was almost like a dance, and it occurred to you that kissing Art was just like meeting his eyes, unrestrained in his emotional expression and leaving you wanting more. Gently, he nudged his nose against yours, almost lazy in his slow exploration of your mouth.
It wasn’t just sweet; it was heavenly.
When you leaned back to pull away, Art’s lips chased you. You had to place your hands on his chest for him to open his eyes and realise what you were doing. For a moment, you just looked at each other, enjoying your flustered expressions and the sight of your bruised lips.
You barely turned to face Patrick when he crashed his lips to yours and collided with a fiery intensity different from your kiss with Art. Like his playing style, Patrick’s kiss was a passionate exchange that left you breathless and your skin tingling with every brush of his mouth. This kiss was raw and emotive, a stark contrast to the sweet tenderness and devotion of Art’s. Where Art relished in the slow ease of your kiss, Patrick’s swift confidence was dominating and fiery. You gasped a little when his teeth bit your top lip. He chuckled, pecking your lips before his tongue soothed the spot he bit.
While Art had grabbed your thighs to touch more of you, Patrick nearly yanked you towards him to have you closer, almost impossibly so. From the sudden movement, Art’s hands fell from your thighs, and he stared, open-mouthed, as his best friend made you groan appreciatively. Patrick’s hands cradled the back of your head, ushering you in his direction, and you tangled your fingers in his tousled curls. The hunger and need in his kiss sent your head spinning.
He kissed you like it was his last day on earth, head tilted to one side and tongue teasing yours in a way that made you glad you were sitting because your knees felt weak.
Running out of air, you pulled away and felt your stomach flooding with heat at the sight of Patrick’s pupil-blown lake-blue eyes. You didn’t realise someone could look at you with so much desire, and it made you gasp quietly. The low orange light of the hotel room glinted off his eyes, mirroring the spark you felt jolting your body each time his lips touched yours. Patrick was warm and intense but still adoring. He was flushed but not as pink as Art. Instead, his cheeks were red, and the rest of him was almost golden. His blue-green, deep eyes stripped away your defences without any effort, hinting at the effortless understanding you had only ever felt with Tashi in the past. You were so seen, so understood that you wanted to shy away from his gaze; it was like Patrick could see the depths of your being, leaving you feeling exposed yet inexplicably drawn to him.
“I’m not sure I can decide,” you admitted as your heart raced. Your mind swirled, trying to grasp the reality of the sweet and dizzying kisses that left your lips tingling and your thoughts pleasantly hazy. There was an inexplicable lightness in your body despite the heaviness in the air. They were both perfect in their own ways, neither better than the other.
It was nothing Art or Patrick had ever experienced before.
You touched them with such care and emotion, so much want, that it left them needing more. It wasn’t just that the brush of your lips felt like perfection, but the fact that you were the one doing it made all the difference.
You had kissed them. You had made them feel this way.
They couldn’t hide their physiological response to your sweet affection and didn’t even try. For Patrick, it was visible in the heavy way his chest rose and fell to catch his breath while the tightening sensation in Art’s pants was there for everyone to see.
“Maybe the two of you could help me decide…” you trailed off, gently closing the gap between the two best friends and encouraging their lips to meet.
Patrick and Art were so entranced – not only with you but by the effect they had on you – that they didn’t fight it. Perhaps it was because they had so many years of history, but their kiss was even more impassioned and unrestrained. They were all tongue and teeth, connected only by their mouths until Patrick tugged Art closer by the shoulder. You watched with hungry, curious eyes, noting how Patrick always seemed to need to be adjoined to the person he was kissing. Art got lost in their kiss just as he had with yours, giving everything he had to Patrick and holding nothing back.
It was so beautiful you didn’t know what to do with yourself. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you were falling for them.
Breath hitching in panic, you dragged your eyes away, looking down at Tashi for help.
“Well, this was fun,” she declared, effectively saving you from having to say anything. Tashi was proud that you’d gone after what you wanted, and she could tell with one glance at your face that you were ready to go. If there was one thing Tashi knew, it was that you preferred to run from your feelings than confront them head-on. “Thanks for the beer. We’re going to bed,” Tashi added, getting up and putting her slides back on.
Art and Patrick parted and turned to look at you with twin stunned expressions.
“We have to get going,” you agreed with your best friend. Tashi pulled you up off the bed with a tender tug.
“What about your numbers?” Patrick asked, now more desperate than ever before.
“We already told you, we’re not homewreckers,” Tashi reminded them as you placed your feet into your slippers.
Art nearly begged, “Please.”
Tashi released a short laugh. “Um… Okay, uh… We will be watching your match tomorrow. Y/N likes winners–” Everyone’s eyes flickered over to you, and you averted your eyes shyly– “so whoever wins can have their girl of choice’s number. The other guy has to back off.”
Art exhaled, leaning forward in disappointment. Smug, Patrick readily agreed to the terms of the bet, “All right.”
“Don’t give up before the match even starts,” you encouraged Art, wanting to take one last look into his icy blue eyes before you returned to your room. “You can beat him if you want to. I really believe that, Art.” The honeyed way you said his name only worsened the blond’s hard-on. He inhaled sharply, eyes shutting in a moment of bliss.
“Are you saying you want me to?”
“Are you saying he’s the better kisser?” Patrick added curiously. His hooded eyes made his already dark eyes appear almost pitch-black, pupils blown wide.
“She’s saying you’re not going to get anyone’s number if you don’t,” Tashi corrected him.
Art asked, “But what do you want?”
“I don’t know about Y/N, but I want to watch some good fucking tennis,” Tashi said pointedly. “I’ll leave that up to you two. Good night.” She grinned and went to open the door, stepping outside and holding it open for you.
You cleared your throat and resorted to humour like you did when the tension was too thick. “Why don’t you just–” you motioned to the beds they had pushed together– “You know. For old time’s sake.” Art stared at you with huge eyes at the insinuation. When your eyes flitted to the brunet beside him, you could tell Patrick was trying not to smirk. “And don’t forget, it’s always better if you’re thinking about somebody when you’re doing it,” you quoted Patrick in a faux innocent voice, lips curving into a smug grin as Tashi shut the door behind you.
#challengers#art donaldson x reader#patrick zweig x reader#challengers movie#challengers x reader#tashi duncan#art donaldson#patrick zweig#challengers fanfiction#challengers fanfic#art donaldson imagine#art donaldson x you#patrick zweig x you#patrick zweig imagine#fic: guilty as sin?
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─ 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘪. (𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦) 🍊
⤷ summary: saudi arabian and australian grands prix happen! y/n starts making vlogs for the races and it reveals more about her and a certain driver's feelings than she hoped, not that she notices. poor oscar's stuck in the middle of it all but he's trying his best!
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liked by f1, landonorris, and 55,007 others
tagged landonorris and oscarpiastri
mclaren saudi arabia, you were beautiful even if the results weren't! ready for what's to come
12,567 comments
user1 admin not using a single nice photo of the drivers 😭
user2 admin be honest is this your revenge era
mclaren well, yes!
user3 HELP MEEEE
user4 the way lando looks at her 😭
user5 this is a place of business
user6 oscar looks petrified 💀
mclaren dw guys we're still training him!
oscarpiastri wtf why would u say it like that, i'm not a dog
mclaren full-time team mascot, part time driver
user7 admin drop the insta your so pretty 😭😭
user8 no literally, content of her WHERE
mclaren ynusername 🤲🏼
user9 LETS FUCKING GO
user10 HER DISSING HER OWN TEAM 💀 THEY'RE GONNA FIRE YOU GIRL
mclaren they don't pay me to LIE
user11 CRAZYY
user12 LANDO IS NEVER GETTING A GOOD PIC EVER AGAIN 😭
mclaren what can i say, i am no mans peace 🥱
user13 icon
landonorris reporting you to hr
mclaren for what
landonorris idk harrassment or something
mclaren ok keyboard warrior, lets calm down 💀
user14 KEYBOARD WARRIOR HELEPSJSM
user15 i vote admin just takes over and we don't even get driver pictures
user16 real and true
user17 i fear we may have lost the plot
user18 thoughts on today's results
mclaren i'm trying to be positive in general but man
user19 LMAOOOOO
user20 ik the pr department is shaking in their boots after every post notif
mclaren probably! but unfortunately for everyone, i am going to keep doing whatever i want
user21 no more lando beef, mclaren admin?
mclaren i forget but i never forgive. i forgot why we were fighting but i stay hating bitches 🥱
landonorris literally WHAT DID I DO
mclaren IDK BUT IK U PISSED ME OFF 🫵
oscarpiastri diabolical photo choice
oscarpiastri i look like a little kid on picture day
mclaren so basically your everyday look
oscarpiastri yk what you are making this work environment very hostile
mclaren i can make it more hostile if you want 🤨
oscarpiastri nevermind!!!
maxfewtrell most flattering lando picture i've seen in years
mclaren that's saying something isn't it 🤩
user22 i went to haterville and they all knew you admin
mclaren they actually just elected me mayor there!!! 💪🏻
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liked by bsfusername, landonorris, and 17,800 others
ynusername if my admin duties don't kill me, i promise my caffeine addiction will! (:
3,422 comments
user23 be honest, how many coffees have you had today
ynusername 3!
user24 oh that's not that bad
ynusername +5
user24 JESUS CHRSUT
bsfusername at this point i think meth would be healthier
ynusername honestly yeah
ynusername thanks for the suggestion!!
user25 nooo admin don't do meth ur so sexy aha
ynusername that just made me want to do meth more
landonorris so what i'm hearing is buying you an espresso machine would get me in your good graces 😇
user26 oh brother here he goes
ynusername you must be deaf then
landonorris 😔 2 espresso machines?
ynusername i don't want ur dirty espresso machines 🙄
oscarpiastri now what car is that 🫵
ynusername SHHHHH
oscarpiastri TRAITOR
bsf2username when your not busy being super sexy on a race track, can we go thrifting and get sweetgreen and overpriced coffee 🙏🏼🙏🏼
ynusername this could've been an email, get this out of my comments ���
ynusername but yeah obviously
user27 admin vlogs when 😔
ynusername SOON!!! very very soon
user28 mother feeding us once again
ynusername brb, adding single mom who works two jobs, loves her kids, and never stops to my resume
danielricciardo coffee recipe where?
ynusername in your dms now ‼️
danielricciardo is this flirting
ynusername no if i was flirting i would've told you to ask me in person, i'm just being charitable
landonorris can i get the coffee recipe too then 🤲🏼
ynusername wdy want next, my mugs? keep on walking charity case
user29 CHARITY CASE IS CRAZYDFHAJ
user30 she's so effortlessly funny and mean i love her
user31 i feel like this is so unprofessional /:
ynusername babe professional where, you are on??? my personal?? account???
user32 maybe she's born with it, maybe it's the fact that she's consumed enough caffeine to tranquelize a horse
user33 oh please the horse would be dead
ynusername call an ambulance, BUT NOT FOR ME ‼️💪🏻🗣️
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ynusername posted to story!
(caption: melbourne vlog out now on youtube, go watch!!)
15,221 replies
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"This thing better be working," could be heard slightly muffled in between vague shuffling sounds. After a second or two of incoherent noise, the camera footage finally came on. Y/N smiled at herself in the camera as the recording light blinked to life, and raised her hand victoriously. She grabbed the smile microphone in front of her and laughed, "It looks like everything is working. Thank God, I wouldn't have known how to fix it otherwise."
"Alright everybody, welcome to the first race weekend vlog hosted by me! Your favorite McLaren admin and social manager. It took me forever to figure out how I wanted to go about this, but now I think I settled on a format that will work," She explained as she walked around the small, clean kitchen that was within frame of the camera. She pulled a glass jar out of her cabinets and left it on the counter before pulling a jug of cold brew and a cartridge of milk out of her fridge.
"It is currently 7:30 A.M on March 29th, and I have a flight to Melbourne in 3 hours. I'm already packed and ready for this weekend, but I wanted to get an introduction filmed and I wanted to take a shower before I left." Y/N paused for a moment as she poured the coffee into her mason jar until she seemed satisfied and began to add some milk. "I am totally exhausted so this is probably cup one of like," she laughed, "I don't know seven probably. And this is a pretty big jar I won't lie."
"The race weekend doesn't technically start until Friday, so I'll be getting there a bit early, but I wanted to film some content before the race weekend gets really hectic, so McLaren is sending me a little bit earlier. I'm excited though! I love the heat, even if I live in London the antithesis of Australian weather," she taste-tested her coffee and hummed in delight.
"God I really never miss with this stuff," she said contently. "Anyway, it's a bit of an early start today, but I'll have plenty of time to sleep on the fight. I mean can you believe that London to Melbourne is a nearly 22 hours," she scoffed. "I vote that we start making all of the races in one place so I don't have to feel jet lag more painful than the force of 1,000 suns every other weekend. Not that I'm complaining," she chuckled awkwardly, "I love my job McLaren please don't fire me."
Abruptly an orange tabby cat came into the frame of the camera, causing Y/N to abruptly grab her glass jar in the hopes of avoiding a mess. She gasped, but laughed as the cat scampered off as quickly as it had come. She shook her head fondly.
"That, ladies and gentleman, was Cali! My cat. She's literally my baby, and I love her more than anything else on this earth. However, she does have an affinity for hitting things off of counters and breaking them. She also hates men and nearly all other animals, so she's basically the world's biggest hazard to society. She's a good girl, I love her." Y/N explained between sips of coffee as she stared wistfully past the the frame of the camera, where it could be assumed Cali had gone.
Abruptly an alarm went off and Y/N threw her head back with a groan.
"That means I have to get in the shower and get ready so I can leave on time," she said, before taking a few more sips of coffee. "I'm going to go do that, and the next time you'll hear my beautiful voice will be at the Melbourne Airport! Cue the travel montage!"
An assortment of clips follow. Y/N is seen dragging her luggage through Heathrow Airport. Y/N is seen ordering another coffee at the airport, finishing the coffee, and ordering another before her flight. Y/N is seen responding to emails from her airplane seat, editing video footage, and responding to instragram and twitter comments. Footage is shown outside the plane window of a cloudy, blue sky and a time lapse is shown as the sky grows beautiful shades of pink and red before becoming a starry-night sky. Y/N is seen cozy in a throw blanket and a travel pillow, presumably asleep with headphones on. Y/N is shown pulling her luggage through the airport once again, with a brand new coffee cup in hand. She smiles, taking a sip before she is seen settled down in a seat in the bustling airport.
"Twenty-two or so hours later and I have finally landed in Melbourne. I'm waiting for my Uber to get here so I can finally be taken to my hotel to drop my stuff off. I have a meeting with the McLaren drivers in two hours, but luckily I slept really well on the plane. I don't know how else I would be able to deal with Lando Norris. I'm going to finish this coffee in order to maximize my tolerance for the next few hours, but I suspect I'll be getting a new coffee before I reach that meeting. My addiction truly knows no bounds," she laughs, trying to ignore the people vaguely shown within frame that are staring at her speaking to a camera.
The camera cuts abruptly and the waiting screen from SpongeBob flashes on the screen, including the narrator's voice reading "2 hours later."
Y/N is shown once again in new clothes, a new coffee cup in hand, and luggage replaced by a small canvas bag. Her comfortable plane clothes have been swapped out for jean shorts and a plain white tank-top. Her hair is clipped back out of her face, and she is adorned with simple gold jewelry and light makeup.
Y/N smiles at the camera as she walks, bustling and talking heard around her, before whispering into the small microphone, "I have arrived at the McLaren garage. It is now time to meet with Lord Lando and workplace mascot Oscar Piastri," the titles slip off her tongue sarcastically and she doesn't bother suppressing an eye-roll.
In the next clip, Oscar and Lando are seen seated on either side of her as they sit in what seems like a board-room. Lando leans over and whispers something that the camera doesn't pick up and Oscar laughs while Y/N grimaces and reaches forward to readjust the camera. When the camera comes back on, Lando and Oscar are seated together on the left of Y/N as she faces on angle toward both them and the camera.
"Don't just sit there and look pretty, say hello to the camera boys," Y/N says and Oscar cackles at the disgruntled look on Lando's face.
"Is that your way of calling me pretty Y/N," Lando chokes out between laughs, and Y/N scoffs with an eye-roll.
"I was actually talking about Oscar, but whatever floats your little papaya boat Norris," Y/N deadpans and Oscar doubles over from the force of his laughter at the pout on Lando's face.
"That's not nice at all, I hope you know that. I think I am sitting here very prettily, thank you very much," Lando says, leaning into the girl next to him to speak into her microphone.
Y/N draws the microphone back, swatting him away, "Yes, yes quite prettily," Y/N mocks in a British accent.
Oscar, still trying to recover, joins in, "Pretty little Lando Norris," and Y/N laughs jovially, reaching across Lando as if the boy weren't there to high-five the Austrialian driver.
"Bullies, the lot of you," Lando mumbles and Y/N brushes off his comment without response before finally facing the camera.
"Anyway, welcome to the first McLaren race weekend vlog. I'm Y/N L/N, the best media manager in the whole god damn world, and this is Lando Norris, the biggest pain in my ass, and Oscar Piastri, the second biggest pain in my ass. How are you feeling about Melbourne boys?" Y/N questions, transitioning smoothly much to the British driver's chagrin.
"Feeling proud to be the second biggest pain in the ass and not the first. Probably the only time i've been glad to get second actually," Oscar comments and Y/N laughs as Lando shakes his head in disappointment.
"But in all seriousness it is good to be home, this is easily my favorite race of the year seeing as it's my home race and i'm looking forward to, hopefully, good results from our team," Oscar supplies and Y/N nods along to his words.
"Yes, Australia, we are in you and we are happy about it," both boys choked out a laugh at the manager's sexual innuendo and Oscar quickly covered his mouth with his hand so as not to react too much. "What about you Lando what are you feeling," Y/N questioned, leaning the small microphone to the boy.
"Feeling like that was a stupid joke. And also like I am going to be getting P1 this weekend. I can feel it in my bones."
"Leave my jokes alone Lando, you're not being paid to be a critic," she scoffed, "and if I recall, you said the same thing in Saudi Arabia not that long ago. What's changed now?"
Lando rolled his eyes, "What's changed is that we're in Australia now and I'm feeling much more confident."
"Well thank god for that," Y/N supplied unhelpfully as Oscar laughed.
"Now, what we really came here for, it's time to film a video for this channel, it's going to be a fan Q and A, I picked the questions. By the time this vlog is up, the QnA should've already been posted. So feel free to stop watching this and to go watch that or whatever," Y/N commented. "After that we're going to film a TikTok challenge," both and Lando and Oscar grimaced, but Y/N ignored their dismay at the idea of fiming yet another TikTok, so cue the montage! Filming time!" Y/N exclaimed and the screen transitioned to a new series of clips.
In the first clip Oscar and Lando were sitting in two chairs while Y/N sat across from them with a set of notecards.
"Lando, this question from user "ln4mania" asks, "Are you and admin actually friends? Or is the online beef real? The people demand answers!" Y/N reads off with a laugh.
"Do you hear that, the people demand answers Lando! Don't keep them waiting!" Oscar and Y/N laugh as Lando shakes his head and tucks his face into his hands.
"There is no beef, guys. Me and admin, or rather me and Y/N are just fine. We hadn't even actually met when that happened," Lando supplied between laughs. Y/N looked at the camera and rolled her eyes with a shake of her head, faux-disagreeing with the boy.
She ignored the simmering pit of disappointment in her stomach. She did in fact have a problem with entitled little Lando Norris who still gave her side-eyed looks and judgmental stares whenever he saw her. If that wasn't humiliating enough, Oscar had clearly noticed it too, which just gave Y/N the feeling that she wasn't being taken seriously at all now that Oscar understood Lando's lack of respect for Y/N. However that didn't matter in the current moment. All that mattered was making this video.
The next clip showed Lando and Oscar sitting at a table with bowls of water in front of them and towels strewn across a chair just within frame of the camera. Y/N stood behind them, hands rested in their hair as she reacted to the prompts being read by someone, an unnamed media intern, off-camera.
"Who is harder to make videos with?" The intern asked and Y/N huffed out a laugh as she let her hands fully grasp Lando's curls and push him into the water quickly. He sputtered, trying to blink the water out of his eyes as Y/N laughed at the wet-puppy dog look he was sporting.
Y/N tried to shake the ridiculous desire to let her hands run through the soft curls underneath her finger tips. Curse Lando and whatever stupidly good, rich-person hair routine he used that made him smell good and look good, and... whatever.
Lando, blinking water out of his eyes, was now undoubtedly certain that being damn-near waterboarded was worth it if it meant that Y/N would laugh like that again. He knew Oscar would harass him again later for being "down-bad" or something along those lines- as he had done every time he caught the man staring-, but as he caught a glimpse of Y/N's bright smile and shaking shoulders, he found he didn't really care.
The next clip showed Oscar, Lando, Y/N, and a laughing media intern as they all dried off- somehow all having become wet through the course of filming. Y/N dried herself off quickly, taking a sip of her newly refilled coffee, not seeing the way that only the camera and Oscar saw Lando stared at her until the driver was nudged back into focus on drying himself off.
A title-card once again came on the screen with white words on a photo collage of Australian grand-prix candids that Y/N had taken, reading "Race montage? More likely than you'd think."
Footage was shown of the free practice sessions. Oscar and Lando getting in and out of their cars. Engineers along the pit wall going over data. The team speaking incoherently, going over the game plan for Sunday's race. Oscar and Lando greeting fans, signing merch, and posing for photos. Y/N smiling and waving at a cheering crowd of people before staring at the camera incredulously with a small caption reading: "Omg she's famous your honor". More clips showed Lando laughing as Oscar tossed grapes and Lando moved to catch them with his mouth. Lando nearly choking as Y/N cackled in the background. Multiple clips showing Y/N with a fresh coffee, and another... and another, as Oscar's face in the background grew with concern. Zak Brown explaining to Y/N the dangers of caffeine overdose, and the need for moderation. Y/N explaining to Zak Brown that without coffee she would simply collapse and die, which the camera showed did nothing to ease her concern. Y/N getting caps signed by the drivers for fans and walking away with intricate friendship bracelets decorating her wrists.
And finally footage of the race. The engineers in the garage. The pit-crew changing tires. The cars racing past as Y/N watched attentively. Footage of the crowd as they cheered when the cars whizzed past. Smiling faces of fans. Y/N's cheers as Oscar and Lando passed. The smiling faces of McLaren employees as Lando and Oscar crossed the checkered flag in P6 and P8 respectively.
Y/N accepting hugs from both drivers, ignoring the burning sensation in her stomach as Lando wrapped his arms around her with a smile and a laugh. Y/N calling Lando smelly and telling him to go wash off if he wants to hug her next time, and him rolling his eyes at her fondly before making a face at the camera. The podium celebration is shown and Y/N smiles as the anthem plays, even though it's not for her own team.
The final clip is shown of Y/N in her hotel room, comfortable in sweats as she sits on the unmade bed.
"Not bad results this week guys! P6 for Lando and P8 for Oscar, which are good points for the team. I'm happy on my end, I think we got some good content filmed, and I am now ready to go to sleep so I can get home to Cali and my own bed quicker. I hope you enjoyed this video, and if you didn't don't tell me because I don't care!" Y/N jokes with a smile.
"Hopefully I will see you all at the next race, if not the race after that! Bye papaya fans, and be sure to follow us on instagram and all of the other social platforms!" Y/N exclaimed, gesturing to the list of the social media handles that appeared on her right hand side.
And with that, the camera cut to black.
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liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1, and 29,145 others
ynusername afraid to report that i fought jetlag and lost 😔 i did sleep for 25 hours straight after melbourne and i had no clue where i was when i woke up! shout out cali for waking me up 🙏🏼 best friend frl
9,547 comments
bsfusername i'm going to try not to be offended by that caption (love you bb cali) but FUCK YOU CAUSE I BOUGHT YOUR ASS BREAKFAST
ynusername my bad! s/o to that bomb ass omlette 🤩
bsfusername never doing shit for you again
user34 that vlog was god tier, how long did that take
ynusername it took 7 hours of editing and years off my life, thanks so much for asking 🥳
maxverstappen1 thanks again for those podium photos! you have a gift for photography 💪🏻
ynusername don't mention it! 👍🏼
ynusername (no seriously, mclaren might behead me)
mclaren beheading is so last year. firing squad. 🗣️
user35 not y/n threatening herself 💀
oscarpiastri suprised your body didn't naturally wake up for coffee
ynusername it did! just 25 hours later
user36 your poor cat was literally starving for a whole day? youre a horrible owner
ynusername let me introduce you to god's greatest creation: the automatic feeder!!! i'm sure they can mail one to whatever fucking rock you live under!
user37 PERIODDDD
user38 me personally? i'd never log on again
user39 she needs a personal channel 🙏🏼🙏🏼 i'd subscribe
user40 her cat is so cute 😭😭😭 gimme that
ynusername 🫵 STAY BACK HEATHEN, NO ONE TOUCHES CALI AND LIVES
user40 my bad fam 🧍🏻♀️
user41 i want someone to love me as much as she loves that mean ass cat
landonorris don't you have a job to be doing 💀💀 she slept through a full work day
user42 lando always on her ass and for whattttt
user43 obsessed obsessed obsessed
ynusername i had the day off! but not the guy who was streaming video games coming for me 🥱 talking bout get a job
user44 lando and y/n beefing on insta again? we're so back
user45 at this point instagram comment beef isn't enough, they need to duel or some shit
user46 the caffeine addiction almost got her guys
ynusername i wish it would, then i wouldn't have to work with lando's annoying ass
landonorris I CAN SEE YOUR COMMENTS???
ynusername THAT'S THE POINT
user47 honestly just give her a gun atp, these men test her too damn much
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user48 NURSE 🫵 SHE'S RIGHT HERE
user49 no fr, like let's get back to bed grandma
user50 OP, are you concussed?
user51 no actually cause didn't y/n just say she wanted to khs working with him 💀💀
pastryboy81 that sign can't stop me, because i can't read!
user53 OK I ACTUALLY SEE THE VISION
user54 ARE YOUR EYES CLOSED???!1!1
user55 i fear i totally get it 😔
user56 it's giving enemies to lovers, secret relationship type vibe lowkkkk
user57 no deadass like he hugged her reallll tight
user58 she also hugged oscar 😭😭?? and he has a whole gf
user59 the way she shoved him off and told him he reeked not 5 seconds after 💀 delusion is a disease yall
user60 someone call the f1 gossip pages cause 😗
user61 more like someone call the ward cause somethings real off with yall 🤨
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sorry that this update took forever, i had surgery and recovery has been rougher than i expected! hope you enjoy!!
please leave your thoughts in the comments and feel free to drop a request for your fav in my asks <3
-
𝙩𝙖𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩
@lemon-lav @slutforpopculture @m4rt10ne @urfavsgf @sadsierra2 @96jnie @sltwins @poppyflower-22 @alliumiae @livelovesports @liberty-barnes @the-holy-trinity-l @iliwyss @awritingtree @redpool @elliotts1one @velentine @chaoticmessneutralplease @5sospenguinqueen @charizznorizz @2pagenumb @mxdi0 @cwiphswmwasohmm @tremendousstarlighttragedy @lnspipedrm @itseightbeats @tinycoffeeroom @woozarts @personwhoisther @a-beaverhausen @love-simon @annabellelee @ravisinghs-wife @chezmardybum @greantii @weekendlusting @monserelates @sapphiccloud @halleest @deamus-liv @gigigreens @morenofilm @laneyspaulding19 @lanireadss @dear-fifi @moldyshorts1997 @oliviarodrigostan13 @eugene-emt-roe @ilivbullyingjeongin @im-a-ghost666
#f1 x female reader#f1 x reader#f1 x y/n#formula 1#f1#f1 smut#f1 x you#formula one#f1 imagine#f1 smau#lando norris smau#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x reader#lando norris#lando norris imagine#racew1nn3rs#racew1nn3rs: fake it till you make it
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DOMAIN EXPANSION: UNLIMITED APOLOGIES✩༶‧˚
GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff. suggestive comment.
WORD COUNT: 3.0k words.
TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc, enemies to almost lovers troupe. mutual pining with lots of tension. they are actually an established couple revisiting a high school flashback.
SYNOPSIS: satoru and oc gojo girlfriend tell their students about the first time they sparred and who actually won.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: i miss these two and their high school phase. this fic’s flashback happened in the middle of ‘love at first fight’.
REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!
you gazed out of your office window as the white haired, blind-folded love of your life was being tackled by two of his students. they were unable to touch him, no matter what attack they tried on their sensei. satoru’s cocky, but proud grin gave you the butterflies. you loved to watch his lessons from your office window during your spare time.
satoru was sparring with hakari and yuta as a demonstration to his current first years the limits of his own powers in close combat and explaining the pinnacle of jujutsu—domain expansions.
“he better not reinforce that punch wi—”
satoru reinforced his punch with blue, sending hakari and yuta flying across the sparring field.
“—and there it is.” you said to yourself while you giggled at the sight.
you decided to head to the sparring field as yuta and hakari might need someone who could heal them with reversed cursed energy.
*************************************
yuta and hakari were throwing up next to the wooden benches on the sparring field as satoru dusted off his hands, not even breaking a sweat.
“that was mean, gojo-sensei!” you called out, laughing at the sight of the nervous first years and a hurling yuta and hakari. “you really had to use blue with that punch?”
satoru loved when you called him sensei.
the first year teacher grinned at the sight of you, your long black hair blowing in the wind, green eyes shining at him, “what brings you here, (y/n)-sensei?”
satoru was usually the one who was trying to avoid his duties by seeking you out on campus, but it seemed that you were the one chasing him around today.
he tried to remember what he did to put you in a good mood this morning before he left for work. did he make the coffee differently? was he able to snag a good morning kiss? what made you come see him today? (read ‘morning routine’ here)
“i saw you reinforce your punch with blue and knew that i had to heal our precious students.” you feigned despair, turning to yuta and hakari who were now sitting on the bench, still shaking from their experience with satoru.
“hi (y/n)-sensei.” all the students greeted you in unison as you smiled back at them.
megumi, yuji, nobara, yuta, and hakari gave you a look of adoration. the students admired the love and respect that their sensei had for you. and how could they not love you? you were like the jujutsu high school mother, therapist, and caretaker all in one.
nobara eyed you, “(y/n)-sensei, do you think you could beat gojo-sensei in a spar?”
megumi scoffed at the question before adding in his two cents about his guardians, “she could bat her eyelashes at gojo-sensei and he would lose immediately.”
“you ain’t wrong about that.” hakari grinned in agreement, earning a laugh from you and the rest of the students.
all of the students knew that you were satoru gojo’s weakness. he could never say no to you and he would never want to spar with you in case he ever accidentally hurt you.
“hey…” satoru sulked, “you think your great teacher gojo can’t even handle little ol’ (y/n)-sensei?”
you winked at the sorcerer before sitting down next to yuta and hakari, waving your hands over their abdomens that received the punches—a stream of water coming from both hands to surround their stomachs, healing them from any injury the punch may have caused.
yuji asked curiously as he watched you heal the two students, “did you two spar when you were students?”
“we sure did.” you said with a sarcastic tone, “your sensei was so full of himself back then. somebody had to humble him and his freakishly strong powers.”
“ha!” satoru laughed out loud, “tell them the domain story, sweetheart.”
all the students cheered, “yeah! tell us the story, (y/n)-sensei!”
flashback
“you’re so full of yourself.” you commented snidely as you walked past satoru after throwing your ice shards at the targets across the sparring field.
all 12 of your ice shards hit their respective bullseye. your nectarine honey blossom fragrance tickled his nose as you walked past him.
satoru looked back at you incredulously, as if no one has ever said that to him before, “and you aren’t?”
he huffed with irritation as he followed you, only two steps behind from where you stood, your back was facing him. why was he following you? what was it about this stubborn (l/n) clan girl that was so magnetic? what made him so curious about you even though you drove him crazy?
you had only been at jujutsu high school for 2 weeks. you barely knew satoru and only had a couple of run ins with him. he was so hot and cold when it came to you and it confused the hell out of you.
after your first run in with him in the dining hall your first night at jujutsu high, you thought things would be okay between the two of you, that you could be friends—however, satoru still somewhat treated you with indifference. (read ‘love at first sight’ here)
“you know for a fact that i’m faster and better at laying out my domain.” satoru rolled his blue eyes at you, sticking out his tongue at you behind your back.
this argument started when yaga-sensei started his lesson on domain expansions—satoru claimed he was the best and that no one could top him. you being the competitive person you were, disagreed with him.
you turned back to invade his space, satoru staggered back a step, “you’ve never even seen my domain expansion.”
“oh, you mean the domain that i broke your first day at jujutsu high?” satoru sneered at you, attempting to hover over you, asserting his dominance and making you stumble back two steps.
suguru’s and shoko’s heads bobbed back and forth as you and satoru went at each other’s throats. a little friendly competitive never hurt anybody… right? and what the hell was this tension they were feeling that was radiating off of the two of you?
you glared icily at him, “and if you were smart, you’d know that domains can be broken from the outside.”
you seethed with emphasis on the word ‘outside’. “plus, if you were caught in iridescent ocean, you’d drown.”
“nah, i’d win cause i’d just lay out my own domain and crush yours.” satoru said as he leaned in closer to you. he took a lock of your soft black hair, twisting and curling it with his index finger, “then you can be a vegetable for 4 months.”
you kissed the back of your teeth in annoyance and shoved his hand away from you and your hair. who did he think he was touching you like that?
“hey! can you two stop flirting with each other?!” shoko called out with her two hands circling around her mouth, projecting her yell across the field.
you and satoru yelled back in unison, “we are not flirting!”
“why don’t you two just have a spar? you both know the rules for domain expansion spars.” suguru suggested as he sat on the grass, the heels of his hands supporting his frame.
the thing about domain expansions in spars was that you could lay out your domain, but you couldn't attack your opponent with it. this would show who could lay out their domain the fastest, and who had the most refined domain—which satoru claimed he had.
shoko looked over at her bestfriend in worry, “you know gojo’s domain expansion would put (y/n) in a coma if he couldn’t control the duration of it.”
suguru shrugged, “yeah, but (y/n) can use reversed cursed energy to heal herself so that should lessen the hit from unlimited void, plus i’m sure she knows how to do a simple domain.”
shoko thought to herself—it was true that you could heal yourself, and you were still brand new to the simple domain technique. but if satoru couldn’t control the time limit of unlimited void, you’d be a vegetable just like he said.
“i’ll try it.” you said confidently, “i’m not scared of a little satoru gojo.”
satoru scoffed at your comment as you flipped your hair behind your shoulder. he watched you walk away from him. you were so stubborn and feisty—unfortunately he liked that about you.
“fine, don’t let me say ‘i told you so!’” satoru called out to you as you glared back at him.
“let’s do this spar after class.” suguru suggested, “then you two can both shut up about who’s the best at laying out their domains.”
“fine.” satoru said with his arms folded.
“fine.” you said back.
suguru chuckled to himself as he looked away from the brooding you and satoru. he already knew his bestfriend had a thing for the new girl. he just liked to stir the pot.
“$10 bucks they’re gonna get together this semester?” shoko whispered to her bestfriend.
suguru grinned and reached out for her hand to shake on the deal.
“make it within the next month.”
later that day
“ready, (y/n)? got your big girl panties on?” satoru taunted you from the opposite end of the field.
“don’t go crying when i win.” you glared at him. you wanted to see him grovel.
satoru gave you a fake yawn, standing up straight. “ladies first.”
“what if you drown?” you sneered at him.
the white haired sorcerer winked at you, “i won’t.”
if his fake yawn didn’t make your blood boil, his damn wink sure did. it was like you weren’t even a threat to him.
“fine!” you called out, putting up your hand signal of the vitarka mudra. your thumb and index finger connecting, while the remaining fingers remained straight, “domain expansion: iridescent ocean.”
water started to fill the inside of your domain. satoru was swept in by a strong tidal wave, swallowing him whole. as your domain completed, you saw the blinding lights at the top—opponents caught swimming towards the top of your domain would be immobilized, which usually gave you a sure hit with your ice shards, and if your opponents swam towards the bottom, they’d drown or be crushed by the water pressure.
you didn’t see satoru move towards the top or the bottom of your domain. how long was he going to try to hold his breath for? why was he just staying in the same position? why hasn’t he laid out his domain?
you formed your ice shards before satoru crossed his index and middle finger, his hand sign for his domain. “domain expansion: unlimited void.”
a white light went back and forth between you and satoru, the void was trying to take over the spherical water domain of yours. you could feel a strong pressure of cursed energy trying to fight against yours. a mental battle of tug-of-war, and you could feel your cursed energy becoming unstable.
damn it, was satoru gojo going to win?
no. he can’t. you had to prove him wro—
in that moment, unlimited void took over, dissolving your domain of water and before the domain was entirely satoru’s, you reinforced yourself with your remaining cursed energy to channel it to reversed cursed energy.
you couldn’t move.
you couldn’t speak.
you could feel everything, but couldn’t do anything.
you felt the immense pressure of cursed energy release, the walls of unlimited void fell as your body collapsed to the ground.
*************************************
you groaned as your rubbed your temple. you felt a raging headache coming on.
“oh my god, (y/n)!” shoko gasped, running to your side. “you’re awake!”
you opened your eyes, the jujutsu high’s medical office light’s were blinding and not helping your headache. you looked around, you were laying in a hospital bed being monitored.
“what happened?” you asked.
“you’re in the medical room. you were knocked unconscious after the domain expansion spar with gojo.”
you felt a wave of disappointment and embarrassment, gutted that you had lost to satoru. he would probably never let you live this down.
“luckily you reinforced yourself with your reversed cursed technique or you would’ve probably been knocked out even longer.”
“what do you mean longer?” you asked, confused. hasn’t it only been a couple hours?
“(y/n)… you’ve been unconscious for three days.”
three days?
how could you have been unconscious for three days?
“satoru feels horrible.” shoko said quietly to you. “he hasn’t even slept since you’ve been in here. he didn’t mean to let unlimited void to go on for that long. he said it was only 2 seconds.”
2 seconds?
only 2 seconds in unlimited void, while reinforced with your reversed cursed technique landed you in the medical room for three days?
just how insane was satoru gojo’s domain expansion?
you looked around the room, noticing that satoru’s fitted jujutsu high jacket was sitting on an arm chair in the corner.
“he’s been here since…?” you asked the amber-eyed student.
she nodded, “you didn’t hear this from me, but he’s been helping the doctor take care of you. he’s been staying here for the past three days. he’s the one that teleported you to the medical office right after you fell to the ground.”
satoru gojo was nursing you back to health? you felt this weird sensation in your chest—just why would he even do that for you?
“he probably feels guilty.” you muttered to yourself.
“—and he didn’t mean to completely knock out the girl he likes with his domain expansion.” suguru said nonchalantly as he entered the room. he gave you a soft smile, “glad to see you awake and feeling better, (y/n).”
you smiled half heartedly at suguru before realizing what he just said.
‘the girl he likes’.
satoru liked you?
that insufferable boy liked you?
no way.
satoru appeared in the doorway of the room, gaining the attention of the three of you. shoko and suguru made eye contact with each other.
shoko interrupted the awkwardness in the air, “oh, i totally forgot—yaga-sensei said me and suguru have a mission today.”
she grabbed suguru by the arm and dragged him out of the room, leaving satoru at the door. once his bestfriends were gone, he closed the door behind him.
“hey.” he said sheepishly. “glad to see you’re awake.”
you couldn’t contain your teasing smirk towards him, “why? so you don’t have to continue nursing me anymore?”
“i felt bad.” satoru mumbled. he pulled his chair next to your hospital bed and placed his hand on top of yours, rubbing small circles on the area between your thumb and index finger.
“i thought i could control the time limit for unlimited void. i am so sorry, (y/n). i didn’t mean for all this to happen.”
you blinked at the sorcerer in front of you. he was full of remorse, the guilt was clearly eating him up inside.
you put your free hand on top of his, “it’s okay, satoru. i forgive you—besides, it was nice to have ‘the strongest’ be my nurse for 3 days. this will be a story to tell my future kids.” you teased.
his blue eyes looked up at you with surprise. he didn’t think you’d forgive him after doing this to you. he couldn’t contain his relief as the soft smile you gave him was more than enough to get his heart racing again.
“it’s the least i could do. i thought you’d hate me forever after this.” he sighed. he couldn’t imagine being forever scorned by you.
“satoru, i don’t think i could ever hate you…” you said quietly.
you wondered if he could hear how fast your heart was beating—the ecg monitor surely reflected your beats per minute, didn’t it?
the sound of someone clearing their throat and knocking on the door interrupted the tension filled air between you and satoru. it was your doctor, ready to let you go back to the dorms.
end flashback
“and that’s how your gojo-sensei landed an unlimited void on me.” you said as all of his students’ jaws dropped at the story you just told them.
“and you still dated him after that?” nobara asked, truly curious at why you’d date an idiot like satoru gojo. especially after he landed you in the medical room for 3 days.
the rest of the boys laughed while satoru frowned, defending himself, “hey… i made it up to your (y/n)-sensei eventually.”
“him and his credit card made it up to me for the next ten years after that.” you winked at the students as satoru put his arm around your shoulder, sneaking a kiss on your temple.
you laughed, “i decided to keep him around since he’s given me unlimited apologies for that one.”
in all actuality, satoru won that spar back then when you were students, but when you really thought about it, you won because satoru gojo was yours.
EXTRA:
the dusk sun rested in the horizon as you and satoru walked hand in hand. the work day finally coming to an end. you couldn’t stop giggling to yourself.
“what’s got you giggling like a schoolgirl over there?” satoru asked curiously, squeezing your hand.
“you and your damn domain expansion…” you grinned, closing your eyes and shaking your head at the memory.
satoru hummed, “i can think of another domain i can expand.”
“satoru gojo.” you glared. his full government name coming out of your mouth made him flinch. he may or may not have went too far with that one.
“what, sweetheart?” he asked so innocently.
“that’s enough.” you whispered. “save that for later.”
“did you two forget what i’m walking right behind you guys?!” megumi groaned, “so gross.”
you and satoru glanced behind your shoulders to see your miserable adopted 15-year old’s face showing disgust in what he just heard. laughter erupted from the two of you as megumi scoffed back at his guardians.
he couldn’t wait to be home in the confines of his own room.
#jjk x oc#jjk fluff#gojo x oc#gojo satoru x oc#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jujutsu kaisen gojo#satoru gojo#satoru gojo x oc#satoru gojo fluff#gojo satoru#gojo fanfic#gojo satoru fluff#jjk x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#jjk x you#gojo fluff#gojo imagines#satoru gojo imagines#jjk imagines#satoru gojo fanfic#gojo satoru fanfic#gojo satoru imagines
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The Exception (Max Verstappen x y/n)
Summary- 4 times Max let y/n get away with whatever she wanted and 1 time he didn't.
I just have so much love for maxie and I wanna show it so it came out as this. Hope you like it!! I hope maxie is only loved tbh
Max was very young when he had moved to a Netherland. If someone asked him when it was, he'd probably never be able to tell. But he could tell you about the annoying neighbours he had growing up. Yes, he did spend most of his time karting and didn't have the time at home or in school like normal kids his age would but the fleeting moments spent at that house in Netherland left behind fond memories that he can look back and only because of a certain little girl with chubby cheeks and two identical braids on either side of her head who had made quite a place in his life. Jos wasn't very happy with Max wasting his time entertaining those kids but he couldn't do much when the children's father was a tall bulky man who could take Jos out in one punch, insisted on letting the kids play together. The tall man had 3 kids Max noticed when he had dinner at their place for the first time; the oldest being the girl who we mentioned before followed by 2 younger brothers who seemed to love karting. They asked Max so many questions about it that they got scolded by their mother for ruining dinner for everyone but Max thought was cute because the youngest couldn't even pronounce karting but had a lot to say. Every time he would spend time with his neighbours, it would always be with the 2 young boys who wanted to learn how to kart better and become like Max like the younger one put it. Even now it makes Max laugh reminiscing about those days. They never really made it professionally though.
2008
Max and the 2 boys were playing around when their older sister asked if they would like to join her for a session of afternoon tea with Mr Whale and Miss Teapot. The brothers made a face of disgust and ran away from her, dejected she turned around when Max agreed. Her face lit up like a Christmas tree. She quickly dragged him into her room and had him sit next to Mr Longneck, the giraffe. An hour later Max was found in Y/N's room with two pigtails if you could call them that on the top of his head, a tiara and the prettiest necklace Y/N owned. Looking at himself in the mirror he couldn't help but laugh. Y/N on the contrary looked pleased with her handy work. She thanked him for being a good and compliant customer and to come back again if he ever wanted to look pretty. It wasn't easy to get Max to do what you wanted except he couldn't say no to her puppy eyes. She even gave him a drawing of him in his kart saying that it would bring him good luck since she couldn't be there and placed her favourite bracelet on his hand.
If Y/N was to ask him about the bracelet, Max would say he lost it as soon as she gave it to him, but deep down in the watch drawer of Max's Monaco apartment sat a brightly neon pink bracelet with Y/N’s initials.
2014
Y/N had started highschool and remained the annoying self Max had come to love. Her over the top demeanor and affection to screaming at the top of her lungs whenever she spotted Max never failed to make him smile. Having joined Formula one this year, meant Max was way to busy to be home but Y/N seemed to never forget to text him regularly. She would ask him to get autographs of other drivers or souvenirs from different countries. It was a regular race weekend when Y/N texted Max asking him to explain how the engine in a go kart worked. In a split second Max was on call with her asking "why she needed that?" to which she replied "I'm doing a project on that. I even made a small scale replica of your cart Look here!!!" She exclaimed. "I just need to shrink you and place you inside it" Y/N laughed. Max told her not to worry and that he would text her the details in a hour or so. Actually it took a couple hours and Y/N was starting to get agitated and called him back. Max replied with a almost done and smiled at her. He had literally written her entire report for her and sent it to review. Y/N almost screamed when she saw the assignment. She thanked Maxie for doing this for her and that she owed him her life. Max was just happy to be of help, he told himself more than he told her because who stays up till 5 in the morning on a race weekend doing someone else’s project.
He kept the small scale replica of his Kart on the mantle above the fireplace if anyone wanted to know what happened to the kart.
2018
Y/N was freshly 18, so getting drunk was the only thing on her agenda. On a night out, she was so drunk that no one could get her to move because she wanted her Maxie and would only leave with Maxie, she enunciated. Her friend was able to open up Y/N phone and thankfully find a Maxie in her favourite contacts. She called the number to be met with a groggy but worried voice. "Hi! This is Y/N's friend Kate speaking. Am I speaking with a....maxie?" she said tentatively. Max let out a sign while rubbing his eyes, "Yes, this is Max speaking." "Can you come pick Y/N up?" She asked hesitantly followed by, "She won't leave with anyone but you apparently." Max was already out of bed and near the door when he said "I'll be there in 10, where are you guys at?" She sent him the location and waited for 'maxie'. Nothing could've prepared them for this. They had thought Maxie was a friend, a boyfriend maybe even a neighbour; they did not think Maxie was Max Verstappen, F1 driver for Redbull racing. He apologised for the inconvenience and crouched down to Y/N level who seemed to have realised that he was here. She cupped his cheeks and giggled while turning his head to the crowd of people standing, "Look, this is my Maxie." Hearing Y/N say my maxie made his heart beat faster then it should've, he admits but that girl had a tight hold on his heart and he couldn't really do much about it. She stood up and wrapped her arms around Max asking him to carry her since her legs felt like mush. Max gladly carried her back to his car, as he fastened her seat belt she asked him to take her back to his place since her parents would probably disown her if she come in drunk for the 6th time this week. Max looked shocked and asked her to stop drinking so much since it wasn't good for her. All Y/N could mumble was that the alcohol made the pain in her heart bearable. This broke Max's heart. Who would dare hurt his precious little angle, if he met that guy he was so dead, Max thought. Little did he know that guy was the one driving her back home.
Y/N was a nuisance when drunk, she reminded him of the little girl he had befriended when he moved here. She wouldn't listen to anything he asked her to do that night until he agreed to let her do make up on him which he would gladly agree to, real or not.
2022
Y/N had recently graduated and was looking for a place to stay. It was one of those nights after a fruitless apartment hunt Y/N facetimed Max. He looked very comfortable in his sim racing chair in his luxurious apartment in Monaco having moved recently. "Maxie" the younger girl sighed. "Meisje, what's the problem?" came a concerned voice. "I can't seem to find a decent apartment, I've been at it for months now." she said. Max offered to help her find the right place and Y/N started listing out all the things she wanted in her apartment which was sounding a lot like Max current apartment which was true, that was Y/N's dream apartment currently; after seeing it a couple months ago when she had visited him as a housewarming surprise and even held a party for him. "You can move to Monaco, the house you're looking for is here" Max said. After a long pause Y/N replied with a chuckle, "I don't make formula 1 money. I'm too broke to afford a house here. In Monaco, I'd have to sell my organs to afford a place there." As if it was the most obvious thing, Max offered her to stay at his place and look for a job here.
The allure of Monaco was too much and Y/N was able to thankfully find a job there so that she wouldn't be completely dependent on Max which he wouldn't have minded. Max never let her pay rent, he'd always tell her to cook good food and that was rent sorted.
2023
It was the night of the Abu Dhabi grand prix. Max had just won his third WDC so him and his friends decided to go out to celebrate, Y/N included. The night carried on as usual, Max not touching much of the alcohol since Y/N decided to down drinks like a thirsty person. She was now in the middle of the dance floor making herself familiar with Lando's crotch, much to Max's dismay. He made his way to her and led her away from Lando while she shouted at him to let her go. They were now stood in the quieter part of the club but you could still hear the music blasting. Y/N looked visibly annoyed at being taken away from the dance floor. "You are drunk, you'll regret it tomorrow." Max said. "That's for sober me to deal with. Drunk me just wants to forget about everything and having an eventful night with a guy would do just the trick." she said. Max winced at the words and held her arms so that she could steady herself. "I don't wanna feel like this," was this the alcohol giving her the confidence, "the guy I've been in love with for ages can't seem to see me as a woman. I've been trying for years now. If I walked out naked, I'm sure he wouldn't even be phased." she sounded dejected. "Any guy would want you, Meisje." Max whispered. "But not the one I do" she stepped closer, enough that their breaths mingled. The woman in front of him was driving Max mad, had she not been drunk he would've shown her how much any man would want her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and looked into his eyes before saying, "He's so dumb, can't even see the woman in front of him." The statement felt oddly targeted. "You know, he's a 3 time world drivers champion and he doesn't even get that I love him so much." she said while looking into his eyes. "You're in love with me?" Max exclaimed. "I have been since the day you let me make pigtails on your hair but thanks for realising now." she replied sarcastically. "You're drunk, you don't know what your saying" Max replied. "Well, sober me would never tell you this but I love you Max Verstappen. So much that you make my heart beat faster and my chest swell when you look at me. I think about marrying you and having a family with you, but you think I'm joking." she declared. Max couldn't help but smiled, "Tell me all of this in the morning when you're sober so that I can tell you that I love you too schat and then I can finally kiss you." "You can kiss me now" Y/N made a kissy face and eagerly leaned in. Max shook his head and carried her back to the hotel room.
Y/N indeed remembered everything and the first thing she did even though she wreaked of alcohol was finally kiss those soft pink lips.
this is just brain rot at this point. hope you liked it
#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen fluff#f1 x you#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#lando norris
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How about the first time Wanda gets called Mama? R can be like 5 <3
Mama
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Daughter! Reader
Summary: You call Wanda mama for the first time.
Tiny Angst (blink & you might miss it), Comfort
Warnings: None | 1K
Translations: милый (darling)
AC: Thank you for sending this! I hope it’s okay that I made reader 6 in this, I hope you enjoy it! x
A Widow’s Sunshine Masterlist
Wanda couldn't help but smile softly when she entered the compounds kitchen to see Nat making peanut butter sandwiches while you were sat the dining table drawing. "There you are" Natasha looked up and smiled at her girlfriend, "I was just about to text you and see if you wanted to join us" she added.
"As if I would miss out on your famous peanut butter sandwiches" Wanda chuckled as she took a seat across from you. "Hi Wanda!" You smiled sweetly, only looking up at her for a brief moment before your attention returned to the crayon in your hand. Nat wasn't a big fan of bring you to work, she liked to keep work and her personal life separate, but you loved coming to the compound and seeing your extended family so sometimes on the weekend, Nat would bring you here to hang out while she did some training or caught up on mission reports.
"How are you today?" Wanda asked you.
"I'm good" you replied, not looking up from your drawing. Wanda chuckled lightly as she watched you pick up a different color crayon, "what are you drawing over there?" Wanda asked. You quickly covered the drawing with your hands, "don't look yet!! it's not finished" you replied just as your mom placed a place of sandwiches in the center of the table. She placed a kiss on the top of your head and asked you to put your drawing away and wash your hands before the three of you enjoyed lunch together.
After lunch, you were quick to get back into your drawing, Wanda and Nat sat around the dining table talking over coffee and tea while you were in your own little world. "She's really focused today" Wanda commented with a soft smile, your mom nodding at the comment. "Ever since they started art classes at school, the refrigerator at home is becoming full" Nat chuckled.
"I take it she loves school?" Wanda asked. You started elementary school a month ago and to say you loved it was an understatement. Of course, the first two weeks was touch and go but once you started to make more friends and got to know your teachers, you were excited to go to school each morning.
"She'd skip breakfast to get there early if I let her" Nat replied, causing both women to chuckle once more. There was a moment of silence as the two of them watched at how focused you were on your new piece of art. "So" Nat said, breaking the silence, "have you thought more on our conversation the other night?" She added once Wanda made eye contact with her.
"Are you sure that's what you want? I don't want to do anything that might interrupt your routine with Y/n" she replied. Just before your mom could say another word, you came running to them with your drawing in hand. You ran straight over to Wanda and smiled widely, "I made this for you!" You said as you handed her the drawing.
Wanda smiled softly as she took the drawing and looked down at it. Nat noticed the small build-up of tears in Wanda's eyes as she picked you up and placed you on her lap, "милый, what did you draw?" Your mother asked you, slightly worried. You turned slightly and looked up at your loving mother, "you, me and mama at the park!" You replied. Natasha's heart basically melted at your reply, Wanda looked up at the two of you and smiled softly at you.
"Are you okay mama? Why are you crying?" you asked, letting Wanda's new title sound so natural. Wanda nodded, "you've made me so happy, these are happy tears" she replied, "come here and give me a hug" she added. You didn't need to be told twice before sliding off your mom's lap and running into Wanda's arms. She hugged you tightly, not too tight of course but enough to let you know how much this drawing meant to her.
"My friend, America, has two mommies and she said that it's the best thing in the world!" You boosted, "now I have two mommies!" You added.
----
Later that night when you were fast asleep with Liho curled up at the end of your bed, Nat and Wanda were enjoying a movie in the living room. Wanda's head resting comfortably in Natasha's lap while she twirled with her brunette locks. Wanda could sense something was on Nat's mind and decided to pause the movie. She got up and straddled Natasha's lap.
"Talk to me baby, what's going on inside that mind of yours" she said, placing a kiss on her forehead. Natasha instantly wrapped her arms around Wanda and smiled softly, "everything I thought I wouldn't have, is happening and I'm a little worried something might stuff things up" the red head admitted in honesty. Wanda gently ran her fingers through Natasha's hair, "is this because Y/n called me mama?" She asked causing your mother to nod and her eyes to drop.
Wanda gently lifted Natasha's head up to look at her once more, "you asked me if I wanted to move in with you and Y/n and I was worried that if I said yes that it might interrupt what you already have with your daughter but today when she gave me that drawing, I have never felt so much love for the two of you. I fell in love with you the moment you asked if I were wearing your jacket and I fell even harder for you when you allowed me to meet your little girl. Your worries are mine and mine are yours" she said before kissing Natasha softly, "I am in this for long run baby. You, Y/n & Pietro are my family and if you're okay with it, I would love to be Y/n's mama" she added, stroking Nat's cheeks with her thumbs gently.
"She's going to be so happy when we tell her" Natasha smiled softly, "you're probably going to have to spend the first few nights in her room with her" she added with a chuckle.
"Do you think Liho will mind?" Wanda joked before Natasha captured her lips in another soft kiss.
Taglist: @koinsss | @liloandstitchstan | @marcia-maximoff | @skittlebum | @katethewritersblog | @taliiiaasteria | @nova-kyle | @daddipantherr | @riyaexee | @sgm616 | @elle161989 | @alphalesbianwolffoxdragontribrid | @mathxa |
If you want to be on the taglist for this series, please see the masterlist. It's linked at the top of this post.
#yelenasdiary asks#anon#fanfiction#marvel#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#wandanat x reader#awidowssunshineau
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now and then | b.b.
pairing: benedict bridgerton x ofc
summary: loraine silva always knew she was not normal. she loves unusual things. she loves her father's guns, horses, boxing, climbing a tree, falling from a tree, engineering, astronomy... oh, and a man eleven years older.
series masterlist
xi. eleven: every word you say
the sunlight did not reach her face. there was no sunlight in sight at all, aside from the most external door that shows a little hint of the visible spectrum. she stirred awake on the hard floor she slept, if she had any at all. she slowly sat up, finding the colonel on the adjacent cell, staring into nothingness.
they have yet to acknowledge each other's presence, trapped in their own battles inside. it was a surreal thing—to feel that it was both the end and the beginning. they have long let go of any hopes in receiving a lighter sentence, and that act is what made it possible for them to breathe despite the stifling feeling.
they have found freedom. losing all hope was freedom.
hence, the young silva raised her gaze to the ragged man across. his rank is not apparent on his current state, stripped off of dignity and proper legacy. she pulled him to the deepest ocean floor a man has never explored to.
"i am so sorry, raphael." raine broke the silence, feeling utterly apologetic for bringing the man with her in this fate.
"there is no need." he replied, closing his eyes as he leaned on the wall.
there really was no need. although his tone may have sounded frustrated, it was not directed to the girl. coming to think of it, he believes he would have done the same. he actually did, when he admitted to the suspicions just so she could be saved. the young silva, however, was hardheaded. a small chuckle left his lips as he looked at her in thought.
"you know, your father would be proud."
"oh, silence." raine rolled her eyes in jest, "i have not slept well with how much my eyes poured last night. do not make me cry again."
"but it is true."
"i know," she turned to him with weak eyes, "he asked me one time, if he was being too forceful in making me the viscountess or also the fact that he taught me things that a proper lady would not have preferred."
she laughed at the memory of her father teaching her how to hold a dagger at four, and her mother in utter worry as she caught them both.
"he was afraid he turned me into something he wanted instead of being someone I want to be."
the lady chuckled before continuing, "i told him I do not see myself embroidering at all. he laughed like crazy."
raphael weakly laughed at the story. by the mention of the girl's teaching experiences, a memory resurfaced in his mind as well.
"did you know that your father used to say you shoot like—i apologise for the term we use in the military amongst men—a virgin?"
despite being above average compared to the general public, her shooting really did not pass her father's standards. she could shoot, yes, but it would not have been enough for war. armand concluded that it was enough at the very least for self-defense.
raphael lifted one end of his lips, "i bet he would say otherwise now."
"that is because now i am not." she said with indifference, missing the way the man sat up from his leaning, turning to her fully.
"...wait, what—you mean...?" he asked curiously, his will returning to his voice in spite of their current situation.
raine looked at him and she found it interesting how curious he was at the topic. she let out a short giggle before slowly nodding. his mouth noticeably went ajar at that as he pried more.
"the bridgerton son?" she nodded once again, raphael leaning back down in surprise, shaking his head in disbelief, "your father is going to kill you."
"no need. the crown is doing it for him."
both laughed in chorus—how they could still jest in a situation like this is lost. perhaps, it was there saving grace. little joys do really count.
"i cannot fathom what you could possibly find so amusing in a place like this."
the queen's voice announced her arrival, her face grimacing in disgust at the place. the two greeted her with respect, standing from their position. she looked around, as if assessing their surroundings before settling her eyes to the girl.
her majesty sighed resignedly, "why ever did you have to shoot him?"
"he talked too much."
"that he did." she had no problem agreeing with that statement at all. the lord had been bothering her as well before about royal familial matters.
she clasped her hands, forming the words to say, "i have spoken to have a private execution for you both. it was granted. this is the least i could do, considering everyone has voted for a beheading instead of hanging."
raine nodded thankfully at that. she did not care much. either way, they would be dead. she inquired further, "the soldiers?"
"all free from the charges."
the two released a breath of relief. that was one of their main goals—for the rest of the troop to be able to go home and spend the following years with their families.
"thank you, aunt lottie. that is all i ask." she smiled warmly to the older woman.
"it will be in an hour." the queen noted, pertaining to the execution.
it must already be five in the afternoon already. the young silva did not know how time flew by so fast. she neared the girl, pushing a hand through the bars of her cell. raine held her hand as she continued.
"make death proud to take us."
raphael and raine's ears perked at that, their brows crossing as the queen took back her hand slowly, "how do you know of it?"
charlotte offered them a smile before she turned away, "your father had been a good company."
after the queen, major gilbert and the viscount bridgerton also stopped to visit them. the former relayed the gratefulness of the soldiers by the news of their freedom, while the latter updated her on how the queen is working on for a proper investigation against the said involved people in the treason with the help of the papers that was left to him. they did not take long, of course. the prison had that effect. it was very suffocating.
yet, her breath came back at the sight of the man in front of her.
"what are you doing here?" she said in concern, her lips quivering as she scrambled on her feet.
benedict reached to her, cupping her face with a tearful smile, "i told you. i will always be here."
she shut her eyes in shame of her current state, "you should not see me like this."
he chuckled with tears in his eyes, "like painfully beautiful?"
"like dying." she corrected in all honesty as he went silent, his heavy breathing speaking for himself.
his lips formed a thin line, features traced with painstaking gaze, "you are so unfair."
"i know," she admitted, knowing exactly what he meant, "i am so sorry."
he hushed her, his palms still on her cheeks as he soothed—both tracing the tear marks that intensified their emotions.
"forget about me. let go of this grief completely." she bleakly uttered, torment clear on her voice.
benedict immediately responded a multiple series of 'no' with an intense shaking of his head in disagreement. he would do anything to not forget her, both the joy and painful memories. he would cherish everything that she was present in. he would cling onto every word she utters.
"and in case you do forget about me," she continued, cupping his face with the utmost care, "i hope you remember by my touch alone.
he nodded fervently, "i love you."
he leaned his head to hers, their breaths exchanging as if he was used to the taste of pain on a dead friday night.
"i love you too."
they wanted to be together for as long as they could, and if that's not very long, well, then that's just how it is. and so, they held each other for the last time, coming to terms that if this life will be this cruel, he would spend the rest of his life praying that the next will not be.
he wanted to badly stay with her, to stop the time and prolong this moment. but, it seemed like he had angered the gods as a guard knocked his truncheon on the door, calling for him to exit for the fifteen-minute preparation before the execution.
━━━ ✦ ❘ ☽ 【❖】 ☾ ❘ ✦ ━━━
no later, guards entered the cells, taking both prisoners with no austerity in their touch. it was so strange for them to the point that it was hard to swallow. they have seized and lead criminals of darkest crimes to their end, yet they find themselves wanting to break the two out.
a viscountess and a colonel, both still children in their own way.
they have never thought there comes a day they would dread their work, and the executioner would say the same. because just as they all arrived in the execution stage, the forty-five soldiers, four members of the bridgerton family, and the queen are in attendance. as she caught sight of them, raine offered a brief, forlorn smile. these people are the ones who she is most thankful of.
executions happen at a faster pace than the young silva thought. one moment they were walking, the next they were kneeling. the executioner bowed to the both of them when they arrived, now asking for forgiveness on the duty he must do in a while. loraine granted him that.
he stood back up, announcing clearly, "you have been granted to speak your final words."
she turned to take a look at raphael, the latter nodding as a sign for her to speak for them both. raine casted her head down in thinking of the words she must say for the last time. she looked back at them all, to no one in particular, and dared to raise her eyes to her terrible fate as she began.
"when a crime goes unpunished, the world is unbalanced. when the wrong is unavenged, the heavens look down on us in shame. we too must die for this circle of vengeance to be closed. we will leave this record of our courage so the world will know who we were and what we did."
as she ended, they both tied the cloth firmly to cover their eyes. at the absence of sight, fear started to creep in. she could hear the executioner stepping away from her and to the colonel first. he declared with resolve, a means of comforting the two souls.
"death is proud to take you."
raine exhaled peacefully at that. it was a reply to their previous convictions—a way of reassuring they have done well.
and so, she did not panic, even when the sound of a drop on the floor filled the place.
raphael had been a great friend, soldier, and a person. the silva would not mind having to fight beside him once again.
the room stayed silent, with no other noise but the small whimpers of the audience. however, it was immediately overshadowed by the sound of footsteps, nearing her one step at a time. she guessed this must be it.
loraine's mind became blank. she hurried herself to think of memories—those that she would love to relive. she had a strange belief that it would not be as painful if she was feeling happy. but, it was also strangely hard to be one in the moment. all she could think of was that maybe, dying is the best option for her in this life. there was no home for her anymore.
and when she greets death, she hoped it is gentle. she hoped it is like going home. she believed a great happiness awaited her somewhere.
and for this reason, she remained calm as the axe hit her neck.
the audience found themselves letting go of the prolonged silence, breaking out to their cries. however, one person did not have any tear or voice left in himself anymore as he stared at the trail of blood that was starting to accumulate and flow away from the body.
indeed, a lot can happen in a day.
he was annoyed by her in one, taken by her in one, and loved her in one. he is grieving for her in one, and he will long for her in one.
and so, he was left with nothing but to face reality—realising that a very frightening thought is now shadowing him intimately.
when tomorrow depends to a person, what should one do? when that person is lost, does that mean tomorrow is too?
love was there. it may have not changed anything. it may have not saved anyone. but, it still matters that the love was there.
because, raine did not need to be saved. she needed to be found and appreciated for who exactly she was. her father has taught her that this world was only a preparation for the next, that all they can ask is to leave it having loved and being loved.
and benedict, until the very last moment, made that known to her and everyone else. she was found. she was appreciated. she was loved.
all by him.
taglist: @aadu2173 @imgondeletedis @pumkiinpasties @rebleforkicks @perseny @everavenclaw @datingbtr @peetahpahkah @myo11 @idek-what-to-put @aysamuka
#benedict bridgerton fanfiction#benedict bridgerton x oc#bridgerton#benedict bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton
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Armand's simpering little "and I never have" has taken on new dimensions for me. Technicality king and also I think very in keeping with his whole malign fairy creature deal. You can tell him not to hurt the bae, but you should really specify what "hurt" entails. Is chopping someone's hands off really hurting them? If they have annoyed you very much I mean.
-questions Armand might pose to Lestat that inspire him to leave the country
#I do think the root of what makes Lesmad so funny is that it is literally the one of two times Lestat has displayed good sense in love#both times his mother was standing right there telling him what to do so take from that what you will#but lestat does enjoy negative attention and fucking around to find out and needling powerful entities who are enamored with him#it takes so much for him to say yes you're hot. but still no#you are too good at fucking will my head and too willing to take liberties with my body i don't like this#though iirc part of it was having experienced Armand's mind whammy he didn't want to leave him in proximity to Gabrielle#once again mommy issues carry the day#anyway#press says iwtv#I have a post percolating in my heart about the reversal of Gabby telling Lestat she just wants to die knowing he's safe in Paris with his#boyfriend#explicitly severing their codependent you're my other half my twin me but a man thing#and Gabby telling him to leave Nicki with Armand and run#but it's actually half a post that amounts to a) this too is a perversion brought on by living past your own death and#b) actually though it's her being a good mom in both instances#like probably the two times she most clearly manages that are#leave this place and me and live your own best life without guilt or shame#and leave your boyfriend who has had a psychotic break and hates you now. do not involve yourself with the sewer creature who is violently#obsessed with you.#she packed up her kid and she left! also did some other things but we don't need to talk about that#cw: incest#interview with the vampire
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𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 CALL MY NAME, I’M YOURS TO TAME
larissa weems x fem!reader
word count: 4.9k
status: completed
summary: You and Larissa Weems have been best friends since your years spent together at Nevermore. You have been meeting for tea every week since your graduation. But when the pharmacy in Jericho runs out of heat suppressants, you have to miss your afternoon tea with her.
And Larissa, being the dutiful best friend, pays you a visit instead.
tags: smvt, fluff, werewolf reader, in heat, kn0tting, decades of mutual pining, established friendship, soft larissa weems, larissa weems with a d1ck, shapeshifting, p in v, nickname mommy, nickname puppy
read here on ao3!
“Here is your tea, dear.”
“Thanks, Riss,” You take the teacup from Larissa’s pale hands and rub the pad of your thumb over the painted golden rim of the cup before setting it down on a pretty white saucer. “So, anything else to catch me up on this week?”
Larissa takes a long sip from her own florally adorned teacup and sinks into the armchair across from you. “Do you remember Morticia Frump?” She asks with the smallest hint of bitterness on her tongue. It doesn't come as a surprise to you. Larissa is a sweet woman, but you don't think you've ever heard her speak about Morticia without that resentment in her voice.
“Yes. Your roommate from when we attended Nevermore?” You nod and settle back into your own chair, folding one leg over the other. You notice Larissa’s gaze lingering on them for a flash of a moment, but don’t bother bringing it up. “You’ve spoken to her recently?”
Larissa gives a grim incline of her head and huffs a soft sigh through her nose. “Indeed. She called last night to request that I meet her child and consider enrolling her in the school.”
“And will you?” You ask curiously, lifting your teacup and taking a slow sip. There is just the right amount of sugar and milk mixed in. Larissa always makes the perfect cup of tea.
“I have a duty to look after the children of outcasts. I would not cast a young girl out just because I am not on the best of terms with her mother,” Larissa whispers. “I just wish I did not have to meet Morticia in order to enrol her daughter. I’m afraid it will be too painful to see her again.”
You send a sympathetic smile in her direction and shift forward in your seat. Leaning across the coffee table, you reach out to squeeze her knee. Her breath hitches at the touch as she watches you like a hawk. “It’ll be okay, Riss. Everything happened so long ago. And if she annoys you… Just think about all the different ways you’d like to fight her, then tell me all about it next week.”
Larissa giggles at that and places her large hand over your smaller one which rests on her knee, giving it a gentle pat. The touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, which you mentally blame on static. “You are right. There’s no point in being so absorbed in the past.”
“I usually am right,” You tease with a soft laugh. “Be the bigger person.”
Larissa raises a neatly plucked eyebrow at that. An amused smirk dances across her painted lips and she quips, “Pun intended?”
You snort around another sip of tea, almost spitting the stuff everywhere. You manage to choke it down and the two of you burst into a fit of giggles. After your laughter trails off, you spend another half an hour catching each other up on everything that has happened in the past week. Just like you have been doing every week for… well, years.
Larissa has been your best friend since you both attended Nevermore. Many times you have looked at her and wondered if there could be something more between you, but you don’t even know if she would want that. If she even likes women. And you’re terrified to risk your friendship by asking her out… No matter how much you adore her.
When the teacups have been drained and the grandfather clock pushed up against the wall starts to chime the hour, you sigh and lean back in your chair. “Time for me to get going.”
Larissa tsks softly, a playful pout poking out her lower lip. “Shame. Time always flies by so quickly with you.”
“I know,” You agree with a short nod. “Maybe we should start doing sleepovers instead of tea.”
“Maybe,” She whispers. A soft pink blush dusts across her pale cheeks and she averts her gaze, clearing her throat. She nudges her empty cup of tea out of the way and rises from her chair, towering over you. “Come on. I’ll walk you out.”
Oh, how you'd love to climb her like a tree.
You follow her out of her dimly lit office and walk by her side as she leads you through the school to the large front entrance. You fit in some more idle chatter along the way through the familiar hallways, before coming to a stop on the stone steps outside.
“Until next week, dear,” Larissa leans down to wrap her arms around you, giving you a tight hug.
“See you then, Riss,” You stretch up on your tiptoes to hug her back, taking a moment to enjoy the scent of her sweet perfume lingering in your nose.
“I’ll be counting the minutes,” She whispers in your ear. There is such conviction in her soft voice that it feels as though she truly means those words.
She gives your waist a gentle squeeze and you reluctantly pull away from her. You can feel your heart hammering in your chest as your brain immediately cries out in protest at the absence of her warmth. With one final goodbye, you turn away from her and make your way down the steps, bracing yourself for the walk home in the bitter afternoon air.
ᥫ᭡
You hum a soft tune to yourself as you bustle around your apartment, struggling with the bundle in your arms. You snatch up every pillow and blanket you can find, tossing them onto the bed to be arranged into a nest later. Each of them have been picked out specifically for the purpose of nesting, every one as warm and comfortable as possible. The pile on the bed is almost bigger than you, and you stand and stare at the mess of blankets with a proud smile on your face. Although you have your suppressants, it still feels comforting to bury into your nest during your heat, even if it is just to nap or read a book. Like being wrapped up in a warm hug from La—
You startle at the sudden shrill ringing of your phone from where it rests on your nightstand. You place a hand over your thundering heart and puff out a breath to calm yourself. In a few long strides, you cross the room and snatch the phone up to answer it. “Hello?”
“Hello! This is the Jericho pharmacy calling,” The familiar voice of Mrs Jones, the pharmacist, comes from the other end of the phone. “We are so terribly sorry for the inconvenience, but we will not be able to refill your prescription for suppressants at the moment. Our supplier has had a stock issue, and we have to wait for more to come from a bigger supplier in the city.”
“What?” You swallow hard, your eyes widening. Panic splits through you like branching lightning, your hand curling into a fist around the phone so hard you almost shatter it. “How long will that take?”
“Around a week and a half,” The pharmacist informs you.
“A week and a half? But… My heat starts tomorrow, and I don’t have any suppressants,” You whisper. “I haven’t gone through a heat in years. You don’t even have enough to get me through the week?”
“I’m afraid not. I’m so sorry. We can fill your next prescription free of charge as an apology for the delay. And if you need scent blockers, we can have them dropped outside your door.”
“Alright… Well, thank you for telling me. See you in a week and a half,” You hang up and toss your phone on the bed. Scrubbing your hands irately down your face, you mutter one word.
“Shit.”
ᥫ᭡
Sleep doesn’t come easily to you that night. Even wrapped up in the bundles of pillows and blankets that have been arranged for your nest, you can’t stop tossing and turning. Anxiety floods through your veins, making your body feel cold and your chest tight. It’s been so long since you allowed your body to go through a heat. There will be years of pent up energy in control of your body, and it's terrifying. You turned to the internet, searching through outcast forums to find out whether it will be more intense when it comes. Every werewolf in the world seems to be in agreement.
The longer it’s been, the worse your next heat will be.
By the time morning comes, you haven’t slept a wink. You sigh and force yourself out of your bed, shuffling to the kitchen to shove a cup of coffee down your throat. As you stir the sugar cubes into your favourite mug, your gaze happens to drift towards the calendar pinned up on your wall. On the square for that day, there is a large red circle with a little teacup scribbled in the middle.
“Shit,” You hiss for what feels like the millionth time in the last twelve hours. You stand there and stare at the doodle of the teacup, pondering whether you should still try to attend or call Larissa up and tell her you can’t make it to tea that day.
You know if you venture out of the house and your heat comes on, any alpha nearby will be able to smell you from a mile away. There may not be that many in Jericho, but even one would pose such a great danger to you… Never mind the werewolf students at Nevermore.
It would also be incredibly embarrassing to go into heat right in front of your best friend, and have her drive you home as you gush all over the seats of her car and whine in need. You shudder at the thought of what Larissa might think of you after something like that.
Before you can even make a proper decision on what to do, an odd feeling shoots through you. You feel your knees going weak, a sticky liquid clinging to your thighs and soaking your shorts. Another curse slips out as you clutch onto the edge of the counter, gasping at the coiling sensation twisting through your lower stomach. Your whole body shakes and you grab onto the counter for dear life.
Looks like you definitely won’t be seeing Larissa today.
You abandon your coffee, letting it go cold on the counter as you drag yourself back into your bedroom. It’s a difficult trip. Your legs threaten to give out beneath you the whole way there, your mind screaming at you to lay down with them spread and just hope an alpha happens to come along. Your brain has never felt so fuzzy before. You’ve never felt so stupid.
The moment you make it back to your room, you throw yourself into the nest. Your clothes are off in an instant. Flung carelessly in a heap in the corner. With trembling hands, you reach into your nightstand and grab a small purple bullet vibrator, fumbling around to switch it on. The trusty little toy has been used many times in the past while you thought of Laris— of… stuff. As soon as it makes contact with your aching clit you whine and arch off the bed, your body flooding with relief now that you finally have some friction. You bring yourself to the peak within minutes. And again. And again. And again…
But it’s not enough.
You shove your fingers inside while stimulating yourself with the bullet. Two isn’t enough. You add another. Not enough. You sob and writhe, your stupid mutt brain and your body aching for one thing. A quick glance at the alarm clock sitting on your nightstand shows the time Larissa should be waking up for the day. You know you should let her know while your brain still works somewhat.
You lick your dry lips and reach out for your phone. Reluctantly, you switch off the vibrator and set it to the side while you call Larissa. She answers almost immediately.
“Hello, darling,” Her sweet, sleepy voice comes through the other end of the phone. “Are you alright?”
Biting back the soft whine that bubbles up from your chest proves almost impossible. The sound of her voice sends another flash of desire through you, your essence coating your shaking thighs. “Larissa,” You whisper hoarsely. “I… I can’t… Make it… Today…”
Concern rings clear through her voice as she hears you panting. “Oh? Is everything alright, dear?”
“Yeah,” Your fingers gravitate towards your swollen clit, rubbing at it slowly as you listen to her speak. You gasp before you can bite back the sound, and clear your throat. “Yeah. Just… Don’t feel so good. I’ll see you next week?”
“Okay… Get better soon, alright? Do call me if you need anything.”
“I will,” The words come out in a breathless mumble before you hang up the phone and chuck it to the side. Just the memory of her voice has you growing wetter by the second, your fingers coated in your juices as you desperately try to satisfy yourself. Flashes of her face shoot through your mind, of her large hands and long fingers…
The vibrator is snatched up again in an instant.
You spend the next hour pleasing yourself without a break. Overstimulation makes your body jolt and twitch, but you can’t stop. You can’t. It just isn’t enough. Your mind is well and truly mush at this point, shown in the way your gaze drifts towards the door and for just a second, you consider opening the door and letting your scent waft out. Waiting for the first alpha to come and claim you.
For a moment, you seriously think about it. It would make your heat more bearable. Yes, said alpha might do horrible things to you, and you don’t really want that, but…
Before you can do anything stupid, the doorbell rings.
Sobbing in frustration, you set your vibrator down again. You force yourself up on shaky legs, not bothering to put pants on. You simply tug the oversized t-shirt down over yourself and shuffle to the front door, yanking it open.
Standing there in front of you is Larissa. Clutched in her hands is a wicker basket stuffed full of gifts. Teabags, cough drops, a couple of face masks, some flowers and a small teddy bear. “Hello,” Larissa greets you with a bright smile. “Since you aren’t well, I thought I would bring—” As soon as she catches sight of you, her words trail off. “...Oh.”
“Larissa,” You gasp. You have to grip onto the door frame to keep yourself upright. Your cheeks are flushed beyond belief, your eyes glazed over and distant. There is a thin layer of sweat on your skin, not to mention the wet patches on the back of your long shirt and your thighs. “I’m in heat.”
Her own cheeks flush when she hears those words. “I… I thought you didn’t go into heat. I thought you took pills.”
“I do. Pharmacy ran out.” Those are the only words you can manage before another tidal wave of need crashes through you and you whimper, sinking to the ground.
“Oh, my darling…” Larissa coos and invites herself inside. She closes and locks the door behind her, sets the gift basket down on the coffee table, then lifts you gently from the floor. She pulls her coat off and folds it over the back of the couch, then slips her feet out of her high heels. “Come on, my sweet. Let’s get you nice and comfortable, okay?”
You know there is no comfortable for you right now, but you don’t dare mention that to her when she is being so sweet. So attentive. You feel yourself getting more wet.
She scoops you up into her arms with ease and carries you to the bedroom. Her chest rumbles a little when she clears her throat upon seeing the vibrator carelessly left on your soaked sheets. Thankfully, she says nothing about it and carefully sets you down.
It kills you to have her so close. You just want to rut against her milky white thigh and have her praise you, you want those long fingers inside you, you want her mouth on you. You’ve loved her for decades, but you’ve never felt such intense need for her in all that time.
“Larissa,” You whimper again, but you have nothing to say. You just need her attention.
“Poor thing,” She whispers. She hesitates for half a second before reaching out to brush her fingertips over your slick thigh. “What can I do for you, dear?”
That simple touch over your thigh alone makes you jolt and gasp. “Don’t… ask me that,” You plead. “You won’t like the answer.”
Larissa leans closer, her larger frame looming over yours as she reaches her free hand out to cup your chin. Her fingers are so gentle as they tilt your head back, as though she is handling something as delicate as a porcelain doll. “What can I do for you, dear?” She repeats in a firm whisper.
You melt as you’re forced to stare up into her sapphire eyes. It feels like you could become nothing more than a puddle in a pile of blankets if she continues this. “I…”
“Tell me,” She urges. Keeping her gaze fixed on you, she dips her head and presses a sweet little kiss to your jaw. “Let me help you. Tell me how.”
As pathetic as it is, the very little resolve you had left snaps as soon as you feel her lips on your skin. “Fuck me,” You pant, raising your hips unabashedly.
“Are you sure?” She asks, her grip on your chin growing slightly firmer. “Are you sure, sweetheart? I’ll do that for you if that’s what you need, but I don’t want you to regret it later…”
“Larissa!” You groan before breaking out into a pathetic ramble. “I won’t regret it. I have loved you since we were teenagers, you’re the love of my life, there is literally nobody else in this world I would rather have help me with this. You must know that. You must have picked up on how much I love y—“
Before you can even finish that word, her lips are on yours.
Both of her hands move to pin your hips to the bed, forcing you to keep still instead of uselessly writhing around. The sheets beneath you become soaked almost to the point of ruin as she kisses you hard, her tongue brushing against yours desperately. You struggle to keep up with the searing heat of her kiss, but she doesn’t seem to mind as she takes complete control. Your hips fight against her hold, and as a result she pins you down harder.
“Riss,” You whine against her lips.
“I know, darling,” She shushes you, one of her hands drifting from your hip to between your legs. You gasp out as her fingers press against you, teasing between your folds. “I know. Give me a minute, okay?”
“Can’t,” A soft sob slips past your parted lips as you pant, the pure desire for her making your body shake. “Can’t. Need you to knot me.”
“You need to wait a moment for my powers to work,” As though trying to sate you for the moment, two of Larissa’s long fingers slip inside you while her thumb rubs at your clit. When you gasp and arch into the feeling, she coos softly and begins kissing along the column of your throat. “My poor puppy. So desperate, aren’t you?”
All you can do is whine, unable to decide whether you should arch into her kisses or her fingers. Another orgasm rips through you as she circles your clit, your body squeezing around her fingers as you gasp and squirm.
“That’s it,” Larissa praises, lightening her hold on your hip. “That’s it, sweetheart. Ride it out.”
You don’t need more convincing than that as your hips move wildly through it, taking everything those digits are giving you.
But you still need more. More sobs leave you and you stare up at her pleadingly. The ability to form words on your lips has left you entirely. All you can do is whimper like the pathetic little thing you are.
“I know, puppy,” She suddenly slips her fingers out of you, making you whine louder. She shushes you firmly and you fall silent in an instant. She straightens up to her full height and begins hitching her skirt up to her thighs, unclipping her stockings and pulling down her panties. Your whole body seizes up at the sight of the penis beneath her skirt, hard and already leaking. She seems to have taken size into account, knowing you will be stretched with the knot. It isn’t too long or thick, made perfectly to fit in your tight hole.
She’s so damn considerate you can’t believe it.
Larissa lays back against the mountain of pillows you have set up, giving herself a tantalising stroke before patting her lap. “Come here, pup.”
You don’t hesitate, scrambling across the bed and setting yourself on one of her large thighs. You fight the urge to rut against it, knowing there is a much better reward waiting right there for you if you’re a good girl for her. She rests her hands on your hips and carefully guides you over here. The leaking tip of her cock rubs against your folds, teasing your clit.
“Are you positive you want this?” Larissa questions in a gentle whisper. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“It won’t hurt,” You assure her and cup her cheek. A little smile twists at your lips as she leans into the touch and sighs. Even if she hadn't created her cock to fit you perfectly, you would be so soaked and opened up by this point she could fit inside easily without hurting you.
“Okay. Relax for me, dear,” She nods. She surges forward to capture your lips with her own again. Her big hands pull you closer, and as she distracts you by kissing you like a woman starved, she slips inside you. Both of you gasp in unison, the sensation unfamiliar to each of you. She groans as your tight pussy clenches around her, taking her time to sink deeper and deeper inside you.
That isn’t going to fly with you.
Without warning, you slam your hips down and sheathe her fully inside you. She moans in surprise and chokes out, “Darling—”
Finally getting what you’ve wanted this whole time, you don’t stop. You fuck yourself feverishly on top of her, taking her cock deep inside you over and over again. You keen and whimper as your lips trail down to her neck, sucking and biting at every inch of pale skin you can reach. Even as your mind starts to blur, you have to force yourself not to sink your tiny fangs into her throat and claim her.
“Darling, please, slow down—” Despite her pleading words, her hands continue to guide your hips at the brutal pace you have set for yourself. Her head tips back against the headboard, harsh pants leaving her parted lips every second. “Gods, you need to slow down—”
The stretch of her cock inside you is like pure heaven. To finally be filled, and have her doing it, is the most exhilarating thing you could ever dream of. Having her hit that spot deep inside you, hearing her moans and knowing you are the cause of them. You’re sure you’ve had this wet dream about a hundred times over the past couple of decades, but fuck none of those dreams could ever compare to the real thing.
“You want me to slow down?” You pant in her ear, willing to do whatever she wants even that means slowing down when you just want her to fuck your brains out.
“Gods, no,” She whispers and pulls you down as she starts meeting you halfway in quick thrusts.
You moan in sheer delight, melting against her chest as she fucks you hard. Like she’s been holding back these same feelings for just as long as you have, and now she finally gets to let them out. She holds you tight to her chest with one hand while the other squeezes your ass, kneading it appreciatively between her fingers.
“Riss, I—” You gasp as yet another climax starts to bubble up in the pit of your stomach. You can already feel this one is more intense than the others, and not just because you’re far beyond oversensitive at this point.
“That’s it,” Larissa coos, “come for me, darling. Let me feel you coming around me like a good pup.”
That is all the encouragement you need. This orgasm crashes through you like a tsunami as she pumps into you hard enough to fill the room with harsh slapping sounds. Your nails tear into her shoulders, sharpening into claws that rip right through her nice blazer. Clinging onto her for dear life, your whiny moans fill the room. All you can do is keep riding her and taking her with every deep thrust as your body jolts and writhes under her hold, your whole being on fire with the pleasure she gives you.
“You want mommy to knot you, sweetheart? Want me to fill up that sweet little pussy?” She pants. Your body tightens around her cock at the sound of those words and she giggles, gripping your hips and dragging you down even harder into every snap of her own. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Yes,” You pant, nuzzling your nose into her neck and becoming pliant in her hands, allowing her to do whatever she wants with you. “Please please please. Please knot me.”
Moments later, she gives you exactly what you want. She moans sweetly into your ear, her thrusts growing sloppy before she buries herself all the way inside you. She gasps and pants as her release pulses through you, the base of her cock swelling and keeping her stuck inside your pussy.
“You’re mine, now,” She whispers possessively into your ear. You’ve never heard her use that tone with you before, and it makes you shiver with another wave of need. If she wasn’t already stuck in you, you’d be riding her all over again just for that. She brushes some hair back from your sweaty face and kisses your temple. “You’re mine, aren’t you?”
“I’m yours,” You repeat in a brainless whisper. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, darling,” Larissa sighs, brushing her nose against your cheek. “I love you so, so much.”
She holds you for a long time, rubbing her hands up and down your back and praising you in a gentle voice. When she can finally pull out of you, she does so slowly, not wanting to hurt your sensitive hole. She curls a finger inside you to feel her own come filling you, and shivers at the feeling of her own stickiness on her fingertip.
“Just beautiful,” She murmurs and casts her blue eyes up to your face. “Do you feel better now, pup?”
“Yeah,” You nod, still a panting mess -- but a satisfied panting mess. “Thank you, Larissa. You… You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know. But I wanted to,” She scoops you up and holds you close to her chest, before slipping her long legs over the side of the bed and carrying you bridal style towards the bathroom. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up, hmm?”
“Larissa?”
“Yes, dear?”
“Did you really mean it?” You ask nervously as you peer up at her. “When you said you loved me?”
“Of course,” Larissa smiles down at you. Her eyes shine with sincerity, and you can tell there isn’t a hint of dishonesty in her words. “I’ve loved you for… a very long time, sweetheart.”
There is a flutter of hope deep in your stomach as you swallow down a lump in your throat. “You have?”
“Yes.”
You can’t even bring yourself to say all of the things you want to as she perches you on the edge of the bath and begins running the hot water. As the steam fills the bathroom and she pours scented liquid into the water, all you can do is stare at her. At the red lipstick smudged across her beautiful lips, at her flushed cheeks visible even beneath her pale foundation. Her hair is still neatly pinned into place, she still looks eternally graceful despite the slight dishevelled appearance around her. This woman loves you. This… this goddess, standing before you, loves you.
“Larissa?” You clear your throat.
“Yes?” She chuckles, clearly amused by your line of questioning.
“After my heat ends, would you like to go on a date with me?” You blurt out before you can talk yourself out of it.
Larissa watches you for a long moment, a smile twitching at her painted lips. Eventually she nods, reaching out to caress your face. “I would love that.”
She bathes you with a great deal of care, making sure to be delicate near your swollen clit and cum-filled hole. You soon convince her to join you as another rush of heat goes through you, and she knots you again in the bath. Then she has to wash you all over again. Over the course of the next three days, the two of you can’t stop fucking. A couple of decades of pent up desire makes itself known in the course of a few days. During some point in those three days, she creates a set of long canine teeth for herself, sinks them into your throat and marks you as her own. At the end of it, you’re both utterly exhausted, but you’re happy.
So fucking happy.
#larissa weems x reader#larissa weems x y/n#larissa weems x you#larissa weems fanfic#larissa weems fanfiction#larissa weems x reader fic
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I'm reading through the allegiences and trying to decide if I should commit to reading over 200 pages. What happened to Otterslip??? Why was he exiled?? He seemed so happy and friendly dude I can't?? I was brought here by an Evil Ravenstar fanart, but WHO IS RAVENSTAR?? Where did Nick go did Nick die?????? I like that the Goldenstar family tree is still running though. Original cat lineage from the founding of the Clan :3
well, I can't tell you the individual fate of each and every cat (I mean. I Could. but thats kind of the point of the moon updates) but i can give you the general rundown of the clan :)
The clan started with seven cats--Scorchstar, Nettlestem, Wildfang, Oaktuft, Morningpaw, Goldenkit, and Sunkit. Very early on, Wildfang was killed when rogues attacked the camp. This is also how Scorchstar lost her first life.
Wildfang was the medicine cat, meaning that after she died, the clan didn't have one anymore. By this point, Goldenpaw was already on his way to being a warrior, but Sunkit hadn't started her training yet. Scorchstar decided that when she became old enough, Sunkit would be the medicine cat for the clan. Sunkit, who desperately wanted to be a warrior, was understandably upset by this. This was the first instance of a long line of disagreements between her and Scorchstar.
Goldenpaw and Morningpaw became Goldenflare and Morningbloom. Along the way, they fell in love, then, to their elation, Morningbloom became pregnant! Unfortunately, the birth was hard, and she died almost immediately after, leaving Goldenflare the single father of three kits. He named them Maplekit, Applekit, and Honeykit. Only a few moons after their birth, a loner named Toro joined the clan, bringing her two kits, Silverkit and Dawnkit, with her.
The five kits eventually all became apprentices, and then warriors--save for Silverkit, who decided to be a medicine cat, and was apprenticed to Sunwish (formerly Sunkit). Their full names became Maplethorn, Applebranch, Honeygleam, Silverbelly, and Dawnshine. Silverbelly and Applebranch became mates, as did Honeygleam and Dawnshine.
Somewhere in there, Scorchstar became mates with her deputy, Nettlestem, and they adopted a single kit together, Otterkit (eventually Otterslip). When Otterkit was an apprentice, Nettlestem was attacked and killed by dogs. Scorchstar blamed Sunwish for being unable to save her, even though there was nothing to be done. Mad with grief, Scorchstar murdered Sunwish in a fit of rage. At this time, nobody knew except Otterslip.
Not long after the murder, Scorchstar herself was torn apart by a pack of dogs. She read this as Starclan punishing her for what she had done. Realizing it was wrong, she repented, and begged for forgiveness--reluctantly, Starclan allowed her into their ranks. Goldenflare, who was appointed deputy after Nettlestem, received his nine lives and took on the name Goldenstar.
(Since you asked, Nick died the same moon that Scorchstar did. He was buried in a rockslide.)
Otterslip, as an adult, found three abandoned kits and adopted them as his own. He named them Yewkit (Yewberry), Ivykit (Ivybounce), and Grasskit (Grassroot). Grassroot went on to be (you guessed it) killed by dogs. Otterslip, following in his mother's footsteps, blamed Stormsight (Silverbelly's apprentice) for not being able to save her.
Stormsight was told by Starclan that Scorchstar had killed Sunwish. He wanted to tell the clan about this. The combination of this fact and the fact that he 'failed' to save Grassroot drove Otterslip to murder him, by pushing him off a cliff.
Goldenstar also died at this time, losing his final two lives by falling off a cliff. His deputy (and son), Maplethorn, took his place as leader and became Maplestar.
Only a few moons after Maplestar became leader, the truth about what Otterslip had done came to light, and he was exiled from Fallenclan. His surviving children, Yewberry and Ivybounce, spent the rest of their lives with their father's betrayal hanging over their heads.
During Maplestar's reign, Fallenclan came to war with Shallowclan over Shallowclan's lack of prey. The battle was ended with no Fallenclan casualties, after only a few moons. Maplestar, already pretty old, was leader for a relatively short amount of time before losing all his lives at once to a flash flood. His deputy, Cherrydust, took the mantle of leadership and became Cherrystar.
A few moons into Cherrystar's leadership, Ravenkit and Littlekit were born to two former outsiders, Troutspeckle and Gyoza. It became immediately clear that Ravenkit was something special when he graduated early, at 10 moons old. Littlekit followed not long after him, and they became Ravenshade and Littleleaf.
Littleleaf was on a patrol with Fallenclan's deputy, Poppyfeather, when they were attacked by rogues. Littleleaf, a fantastic hunter but not much of a fighter, was badly injured in the attack, and ended up completely blind. Ravenstar, extremely protective of his brother (especially after the death of his father, Gyoza), blamed Poppyfeather. In his eyes, she didn't protect him as well as she could have. Ravenstar plotted for a few moons, and then, when the opportunity came, he caught Poppyfeather off guard and killed her.
One of Fallenclan's medicine cats, Feathersight, received a vision the same moon that Ravenshade graduated. The vision was rather unclear--broken raven feathers trailing from the sky. Nothing immediately came of it, so it was mostly brushed off, but the clan as a whole knew about it. Ravenshade, knowing that the position of deputy was now open, instructed his former apprentice, Flamefall, to remind Cherrystar of the vision, and insinuate that it meant he was destined to be deputy. His plan worked out, and so Ravenshade became deputy of Fallenclan.
With the small taste of power, Ravenshade began to crave more. When his mother, Troutspeckle, was bitten by a snake and killed, he decided he needed to do whatever he had to in order to protect his only remaining family, Littleleaf. He poisoned Cherrystar with nightshade berries, taking all of her remaining lives, and rose to the position of leader, taking on the name Ravenstar.
There's a lot of little bits in here that are important--Honeysong's ghost sight, Feathersight's suspicion, Darkpaw's dream, but this is where the line between what I've already drawn and what's spoilers gets a little wobbly, so I'll leave it at that :3 hope this was a decent explanation, and that I didn't leave anything too important out
And yes, Goldenstar's lineage is still going :3 his surviving descendants are Crowflame, Mothspots, Antbite, and Honeysong.
#fallenasks#strangelyfamiliarstranger#fallenlore#god i hope i didnt put spoilers in there without realizing. if you see any. avert your gaze
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"My hometown also thrived because of a dungeon. But one day, monsters flooded out, the elves came, and many lost their lives. Why did my family have to die? My mother worked so hard to raise me on her own. She didn't deserve to die like that. I don't want to see that happen again. The existing system, where only certain races wield power is detrimental to everyone involved."
favorite character + outfits gif series
Dungeon Meshi EP21 - Kabru (Blue Jacket)
#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#kabru#kabru of utaya#my gifs#favorite character + outfits gif series#userartless
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dearest gentle reader [ n. hischier ] | part one
next part - coming soon
summary : rumors begin to spread of Lord Nico Hischier arriving in London days before the 1813 season is set to begin, putting the unlucky Jo Sinclair and her family on high alert. meanwhile, Nico arrives in London, but has no idea what's coming when he makes his own society debut with the announcement of his arrival in Lady Whistledown's first edition
warning(s) : none
author’s note : i’m gonna try my best to make this as historically accurate as i possibly can. if you wanna be added to the universe taglist, fill out this form since it's separate from my daily fic taglist (I'll be using my normal fic taglist for this part only). there will also be a handful of crossover characters but there will be no plot crossover (y'all will see what i mean as the series goes on). enjoy the first part of nico and jo’s story <33
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[ JO'S POV ]
The one thing that she's been excited about for the last few weeks is her sister's society debut. The debut is the only thing that Emma has talked about since her 18th birthday back in April. It's really been the only thing that she's been talking about since her oldest sister made her own debut.
Josephine herself did enjoy making her debut four years ago and she can't wait to see her younger sister follow in her footsteps. She enjoys every social season despite being unlucky in the subject of marriage.
They've been to the modiste so many times in the last five or six weeks to get new dresses made for Emma's debut and the balls that the family will attend over the summer. Jo has even gotten a handful of new dresses designed for her despite the fact that it's her fourth year out and she has yet to find a husband.
Yes, she's been unlucky. She has to find a husband this season unless she wants to have her parents set up a marriage for her. Jo has been constantly telling her parents that she wants to marry for love, not advantageously.
Their threats to marry her into a wealthy family to a man she does not know got a lot worse after last season when she couldn't secure a husband. She practically begged them to give her one more season to find a man that will marry her.
Two days before Emma is set to debut in front of the queen, her little sister comes running into the drawing room where Jo, her mother, and eldest brother Theo are doing some of their daily activities. Jo is at the pianoforte playing a classical piece, her mother is sewing, and Theo is doing some work at the desk.
"This has just arrived to the house," she says. "It's almost like a gossip column in the paper, but it's strictly a gossip column."
Their mother, Lady Beatrice Sinclair, looks up from the blanket that she's been working on for the last few months. "What has arrived to the house, dear?" she asks.
"It's called 'Lady Whistledown'," Emma explains. "Whoever she is knows so much about the ton, and there even are rumors of which eligible bachelors are coming into London for the season and which men are looking for wives this season."
Beatrice holds out her hand for the column. Jo continues to play on the pianoforte but her interest is piqued, as is Theo's. Emma walks over and hands the paper over to their mother. Her eyes scan the page, and her eyebrows raise in what looks to be confusion. Her face says she's very interested in the words on the paper that she is reading though.
"Oh," she sighs as she finishes reading. She looks at her three eldest children that sit or stand around the drawing room. "It is to be a very interesting season if this Lady Whistledown continues to write about the ton like this."
"May I read it, mama?" Jo questions. Beatrice's eyes fall to her eldest daughter. She shoots a glare at Jo since she has told her daughter to stop reading so much. "I just want to see which bachelors are and are not available. I want to see what options I have to explore this season before you and papa decide to marry me off to someone I have never met."
Beatrice seems to believe that lie since she hands over the little pamphlet, but Jo is genuinely curious what this Lady Whistledown has written about her.
If she has written anything about her, that is. Odds are that there is something written about the fact that she remains unmarried after four years out in society though.
Her eyes fall to the page and she begins to read the words written in complete silence.
Dearest Gentle Reader,
You don't know me quite yet, but you will after what looks to be a very interesting season coming up. Many new and ready debutants will be making her debut in front of Queen Charlotte later this week, where the queen looks to find a new diamond of the season. Will the diamond come from a respected family of the ton such as the Archer family or the Pierce family? Or will the diamond of the family be from the Sinclair family even though former diamond Josephine Sinclair remains an unmarried woman. Rumors are that this will be the last season that the eldest Sinclair daughter will be able to marry for love like she wants.
Speaking of rumors, the Viscount Nico Hischier is coming to the city for the season in search of a wife. The Lord Hischier has not been to London since he was a young boy and I am sure that the esteemed members of the ton will welcome him back with open arms. It is not known why the lord is searching for a wife, but I'm sure that the many debutants, even those who have been out in society for years, will try her best to make a good impression on who is certainly this season's most eligible bachelor.
Josephine lowers the paper to her lap after she reads what is probably the most embarrassing words ever written about her. She lets out a shaky sigh as she tries to read whatever else this Lady Whistledown has written about her.
Though, an eligible man such as the Viscount Hischier coming into the city gives her hope of maybe finding love this season.
:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:
[ NICO'S POV ]
All he's been listening to for the past few days is the sound of the carriage on dirt as he travels from Bern to London for the summer. He is set to arrive in London at any moment and is staying with one of his friends from America. Jack did not need to open his family's home to him, but he would much rather prefer to stay with a friend than in a hotel. His back is grateful.
His mother has been pestering him to find a nice, noble woman to marry and carry on the family name with after his father's death a few years ago.
His older brother Luca decided never to get married and completely disowned the Hischier family and refuses to take the title of Viscount, so that's what Nico did. He took the title of Viscount despite thinking he would never have that title. All that means is marrying someone that will probably only marry him for his title.
Sure, there are lots of women in Switzerland he could marry but why not get away from home for a little bit and find a woman that will marry him? A title means a lot more in England than it does in his home country of Switzerland so there are more willing women to marry him for his title in London.
It's late at night when Nico's carriage pulls up to the Hughes house. He feels bad because he was supposed to arrive during the day but he left a lot later than he intended after his mother fought him again on leaving Bern to go to London.
Nico pulls his trunk out of the back and the doors to the house open. He looks over and sees a very casually dressed Jack Hughes in the doorway. "Ah, Nico," he greets his friend. "Welcome to London."
"Nice to see you again, my friend," Nico replies as he hugs his friend. "I want to thank you again for opening your home to me this summer. It means a lot to me and my back that I don't have to sleep in a hotel for the next few months."
Jack laughs and claps Nico on the shoulder. "My home is your home," he replies. "You're welcome whenever you'd like."
His trunk is brought inside by some of the housekeepers. The boys are quick to follow. "I do apologize for arriving so late today," Nico says as they walk up the steps. "I know I was due to arrive during the day but my mother insisted that I stay in Bern to find a wife again and I couldn't get away from her."
"It's not a problem," Jack replies. "You know I'm a night owl and never sleep so I was happy to stay up and wait for you to get here."
He smiles as the door to his temporary bedroom is opened in front of him. The housekeepers make their way inside and the boys follow them. Nico thanks them and they leave the room. Jack stays behind when they leave.
The room is small, minimalistic yet beautiful. There is a desk pushed up against a window that overlooks the road. A kind sized bed with white covers sits between two windows on the adjacent wall. There's also a grey closet pressed against the wall with the door.
"Very cozy," Nico comments as he opens his trunk that holds all of the belongings that he'll need on this trip. "Thank you again."
Jack sits on the bed next to his trunk and says, "The women have all been talking about your arrival all day. Apparently there's a new columnist or something that talks about the gossip of London and your name was in the first issue. I didn't read it but every lady and their mother is ready to throw themselves at you."
Nico looks at his friend as he pulls out his neatly folded clothes. "Are you serious?" he asks. "Why is my name so popular here? I haven't been in London since I was a boy."
"Since you apparently added 'Viscount' before 'Nico Hischier'," Jack teases. "Sorry to hear about your dad, by the way. Your brother seems to be taking it really hard."
"The hardest out of all of us, I think," he sighs as he hangs up his clothes. "He didn't want our father's title so he refuses to take it and disowned us. He won't marry either. I guess that's up to me now. It's why I'm here."
"Damn, I thought you were here to see one of your closest friends," Jack says. It brings a smile to Nico's lips as he pulls more clothes out of his trunk. "I do wish you luck, Nico. My brother is also going to be looking for a wife this season after having many secret rendezvous and raking his way around London since he was 18 so maybe the two of you can get together and discuss your options."
Nico rolls his eyes and finishes unpacking his things. "Maybe Quinn and I will share a drink or two while we find our wives this season," he comments. "I am very tired so I think I'm going to call it a night. We should go out tomorrow though so I can get reacquainted with London before the social season officially begins and I am not left alone."
"Absolutely," Jack laughs. "Have a good night, Nico. Someone will call you for breakfast in the morning if you'd like to join us. I'm sure Quinn and Luke will be happy to see you again."
He nods and Jack leaves the room. Nico collapses onto the bed with a heavy sigh.
The next few months are going to be rough. Hopefully he can meet and begin officially courting someone early in the season so he's not constantly surrounded by a bunch of women and their insane mothers.
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SERIES MASTERLIST
want to be added to the taglist ? fill out the series taglist form !
taglist : @alwaysclassyeagle @dasiysthings @ithinkimokeei @equallyshaw @dancerbailey3 @love4lando @stony1386 @mangoluver @prettyinsatiable @ivy-34 @bunbunbl0gs @memandi @rybabob
#hockey imagines#hockey imagine#hockey au#hockey fanfiction#hockey fic#hockey fic series#nhl imagines#nhl imagine#nhl au#nhl fanfiction#nhl fic#nhl fic series#nico hischier#nico hischier fanfiction#nico hischier fic#nico hischier fluff#bridgerton au#nico and jo au
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You are ours - Greens
Greens x fem!reader (hostage)
characters : Aemond, Aegon ii, Helaena, Alicent, Criston
warning : hostage (capture), hurt/comfort, implied obsession, emotional, kiss, war, fear, implied death, smut (lightly implied), targaryen incest, f/f, m/f, no use of Y/n
Summary : Captured as a hostage before the escape of the blacks, the princess of the realm could do nothing but finally hope for rescue while the color green enveloped her more and more in emotions that went far beyond hate and love.
info : yes yes the second season is coming up in a few weeks and even if the war about the two teams breaks out on the internet, both teams will be played here. So have fun and a peaceful read :)
masterlist
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Ameond : The second prince of the realm, the prince after Daemon his uncle, the prince after his brother the king, the prince who was the sworn sword for his brother.
After the Blacks had retreated from King's Landing and Rhaenys had fled with her dragon, they had managed to lock a room so that she could not escape. ,,It seems your cousin has forgotten you,” came his words with a hint of scorn from his fine lips as he pushed aside the bar of the privacy screen and looked into the spacious room of his father's sister.
The former sole princess of the realm, handsome and beautiful, guarded the youngest of the three royal children at the time, only a few years younger than his uncle Daemon…and yet she surpassed everything in beauty. ,,Princess Rhaenys had to flee, I would have stopped her,” she said, giving him a warning look that they both knew would come to nothing as the violet of her eyes met his, his eyes flashing every time he saw her.
And he often did that the first few days they exchanged words, her knowing him rejected him, his teasing forcing her to react. He looked at her through the slit during the day and at night when she slept she could feel his gaze on her, fascination and ulterior motives.
Her nephew the prince, the son of her beloved brother king…and yet she had to thank him because it was apparently he who brought her out of her room one day. ,,A princess of the realm should not be left alone in her room,” he said and let her out, accepting her words of thanks with a grin before she moved forward through the castle, Ameond always behind her.
,,A hostage should always be watched, shouldn't she?” she asked as she walked with him into the garden, a place where she could finally feel the air, smell something different from the distress and finally see the sun with the sky, the sky where she once flew with her dragon Dreamfyre before it passed to Helaena…she had been passed over.
But these words amused Ameond even more she stood with her back to him but her eyes met violet again violet of lavender flowers. She did not escape him like a dragon guarding its blood relative and she would not get rid of him. She was almost at peace when she suddenly felt his hand on hers, not leather but skin on skin.
Moving around to yell at him to let her go, her eyes met a white rose and an expression that she didn't try to take over and control. He seemed honest. ,,A spirit of such beauty should be treated with gentleness or the dragon will come closer and closer and devour you, dear,” he replied and placed the rose behind her ear, his fingers running over the strands of her hair and she saw that sapphire flash again as she felt him kiss her.
She was no longer a hostage of the empire she was a hostage of his all this time she was a hostage of his senses…and now the dragon had devoured her the green had wrapped itself around her and never again would she see the black of her family.
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Aegon ii : The crown on his head heavy with burden, war and worry. A war was at the gates of his now owned city and he was the king proclaimed by his mother dowager queen and grandfather…for his father had not wanted him to inherit all he was a dream long extinguished.
He knew that, the queen knew that, his brother knew that, his sister's wife knew that…everyone in his family seemed to know it, she knew it too.
Every time he ran away a few months ago, every time he drank since forever and every time he hurried around since he was a boy, he wanted to get away from this throne and the inheritance he knew was forced upon him at best, but now that he realized how quickly sides could tilt at his coronation, he knew it was time to take a sword, saddle Sunfyre and give orders.
,,A playing card we have the sister of the rough prince, mother figure of my half-sister and my aunt” he had heard his words as he sat in the small council with his family and they discussed the plan.
His aunt was the only one who had ever shown him kindness, who didn't see him as a nobody…who held on to him and never gave up on him until now.
The look of her fascination at his actions made him want to say, This is my family, this green blood, it's not me but he had only given her a quick glance before leaving her room. ,,She hardly knows anything about the strategies like my insects say…but other methods might help,” he heard Lary's voice and saw his hand tighten around the walking stick.
Aegon had such thoughts, knew what could be done, knew that feelings could be used. That he had once used her, that he should have always seen her kisses as an encouragement after a night of tears and pain…but he had always felt more and now…no, he would not let her go-not when he now had something worth protecting besides his family and his children.
,,I'll personally take care of our dear hostage, she knows how to answer to a king and I know how to deal with maidens,” he murmured and rose from the table, ending the meeting for himself and yet knowing that his family was still talking…especially ignoring the punishing look of Aemond who had known for a long time and unlike their common mother did not ignore it.
But Aegon didn't care what his brother thought, he was the king and for the first time he would use this power given to him to do something, something he himself decided to do and he would not be taken advantage of. ,,Seeing you so quiet without a kind smile makes me sad aunt,” he greeted her, came into her chambers and found her sitting by the fire.
He saw that she was still wearing her clothes, the dark black, the red or gold a distant memory of her brother, her niece and her former king. A fact that Aegon disliked, he was king now, she should wear his clothes not those of his no good vile father.
He came closer to her and sat down by the fireplace looking at her face the same light hair as his a touch more silver and the violet looking grayish in the light and yet she was still beautiful. ,,Sad? Aegon I am a hostage the kingdom broken and my brother dead…for you I have no mercy” she replied and avoided his gaze looking instead into the flames that seemed her only warmth in these cold lonely times.
But Aegon saw it differently, ,,I am the king and if I don't want you to behave like this?” he replied with a question, coming closer to her but it was an empty threat an empty threat that surprised him when she suddenly turned to him.
The crackle of burning wood could be heard as their eyes met and he felt her cool hand on his cheek. It was her sad smile as she held him close at night, trying to help him through the withdrawal.
He wanted to escape her and at the same time wanted more, ,,Behave Aegon, you have always behaved as you please, I have no kindness but neither do I hate,” she murmured the calm words and even though he saw her resentment, pain and hatred for his family, it did not affect him.
A fact that disturbed him and made him vulnerable Keep your enemies and especially your friends away from you he faintly remembered the words of his torturer Larys who had told him this one day. Words that had no meaning until now…until now.
But now, as his hand lay on hers, he kissed it, allowing her closeness just for one last time, one last time, like the last few times they both knew. ,,You should hate me, though, because as your enemy you would do well to…it would do us both good,” he whispered before pulling her into a reluctant kiss one last time, even though she knew the door to her home would never open again, that he was watching over her, that the crown would protect her even beyond her brother's death.
Aegon would not leave her, he would stay with her, take her in, kiss her, possess her again to draw her into the green memories of the past when she had lulled him with good…but now it was the fiery green fabric of the green that slowly wrapped itself around her and held her to him forever until the end of this dragon dance.
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Helaena : The new Queen of the Kingdoms, Helaena Targaryen the dreamer second daughter of Viserys the Peaceful and his second wife Alicent the now dowager Queen. A princess of the realm the wife of Aegon her husband her brother, her brother and the father of her three sweet children.
A queen who cared for her children, who occupied herself with her dreams and the crawling sounds of her insects only she seemed to understand. Detached from the small council she never attended, trying to find an answer in the words and signs seemed impossible, however, nothing since she felt the gaze of those eyes on her.
,,Seeing eyes envelop colors, one man's quiet is another man's joy too late when the wind catches us,” she said, seemingly suddenly in her room, looking from her embroidery to an unfinished flower before she felt the light touch of her mother still looking beside her. Unwanted and cold unknown and yet normal because she knew it. She didn't have to see her mother's dark eyes to recognize the worry and helplessness.
But above all, the new queen still felt something elriehcteurng. Relief after Rhaenys had fled, they had been able to take a ghost. The first and true princess of the kingdom, her own aunt, who had been imprisoned in King's Landing for weeks, probably knew that she would not be governed in the coming months.
,,Do you know what it means?” her mother dared to ask, but her daughters only shook their heads before silence fell between them again and Helaena still saw the only image in her mind - the image of the hostage. ,,Please take care of the three of them for a moment, mother,” she asked Alicent didn't wait for an answer in the end it was an order from the queen and they both knew it but Helaena wouldn't take advantage of her power just yet.
The queen's footsteps echoed through the corridors her cone did not grace her head the metal was too unfamiliar, too uncomfortable and too horrible.
But that didn't matter because she had something else she wanted to get to now, something she had to get to in order to convince herself that she wasn't dreaming. ,,Come in,” she heard the muffled voice and stepped into the princess's large bedchamber, where she sat in her armchair with a book in her hand.
Helaena knew that others reproached the princess, her family the green ones ridiculed her for being so quiet, but the queen knew better. ,,My dear Helaena… you have seen it again” she hit the nail on the head, knowing why she had not come to her as she did almost every day, seeking her contact and closeness, her comfort, her voice and her answers.
The younger girl nodded, she still wasn't sure if her aunt had these dreams too or if she just felt it…but maybe that was why they were looking for each other. ,,It hasn't left me since Aemond did it, it's like a wind that will come over us,” she confessed and slowly sat down next to her on the wide armchair, paying attention to the books of kings and queens only for a moment before she looked into her aunt's violet eyes.
Helaena put her hand on her aunt's and saw that something was going on inside her, ,,This wind began to blow when the blood of your brother's husband touched your mother's hands,” she replied and Helaena felt a clarity as words slowly became something in the mist. It was a clarity her father had once told her about many years ago when he had once again taken an interest in her dreams, but that had passed.
The queen knew that she now had someone to help her who did not see her as something strange, ,,One lucidity from you my thanks is not enough for you in such a situation” she tried to make it easier for him knowing what it was like to be trapped, unheard and not taken seriously.
But in the end she knew that there was at least the two of them, that when Helaena needed her, her beloved aunt was always there for her, whether day or night.
She allowed her cheek to be touched and felt the older woman run her fingers over her now barely visible freckles again, the same loving laugh and warm gaze meeting Helaena's eyes. ,,I'm sorry,” slipped softly from the queen's lips as she pulled the older woman into a momentary embrace that wasn't cold and stiff, it was warmly welcoming and understanding.
,,I know Helaena…I will be too” the princess replied knowing in her own dreams that from now on the wind would not only take hold of her own body the power of the sword and dragon's deeds will drive Helaena to her death hand in hand with herself…but until then, whether as a ghost or still a proud princess, she would not accept her beloved and help her, for the thread of the green had long, long since been bored into her heart and would not let her go…she was bound to her queen by dreams and life.
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Alicent : Once she was queen, once she was queen over the royal land and had power. Had power that she had never used, however, and if only in an area that was more harmful than anything in the shadows.
Alicent Hightower, not even half her age, had given up her crown again to her young daughter, hardly a young woman and with such a responsibility.
A thought the brown-haired woman disliked but that was the way it had to be…that was the way it had to be if she wanted to protect her family from Rhaenyra from her from the self-proclaimed Queen of Dragonstone and Westeros But Alicent herself she now seemed like a ghost of the past only for a moment she had been the most powerful woman of the lands with the death of Visery she had the full decision and what had she used it for?
She knew the answer, she had interpreted it with tears over a past pleasure that she would not get back and now knew that when she looked at her children, her Aegon, that he now had to protect his family and also her, that Helaena now brought children into the world and Aemond protected his siblings with his sword…but she had only protected and defended her children for the last two decades at what cost?
The price was those violet eyes full of understanding and no aversion, despite the fact that the eldest princess of the kingdom was in her power, she still looked at Alicent with understanding. How can she do it? the dowager queen asked herself the hours over and over again when she looked at the green fabric of the dress the question green her color the color of her house and yet she felt this aversion again.
Dislike in her family because this dislike resulted from her fear of not being able to protect the last thing she had left of herself. To lose herself, to lose her children….to lose her family that she had only tried to protect.
But perhaps these violet eyes of understanding were the reason why the former queen went to the princess. Maybe it was something else, or maybe it was just desperation - did that even matter in a kingdom?
Knocking and waiting for a short answer, she stepped inside and saw the woman standing in the ramp, apparently she had just come back in from the balcony of the bedchamber. ,,Do you miss our walks?” Alicnet asked immediately without thinking and immediately offered her something, not wanting her to feel bad, but she only got a slight shake of the head and a gentle smile.
,,No widow queen it's bearable I understand why” she assured the younger girl that everything was in order, even if she had a hostage she was a princess but both had advantages and disadvantages in such a situation. But this calmness seemed to drive Alicent crazy. why was she so in control, but not herself?
A question to which she had no answer, a question that caused the former queen to reach for the elder's hand and hold it, her dark eyes meeting the violet ones. ,,How? How can you take it all after everything?” the question came again faster than she thought, but the princess continued to hold Alicent's hand and slowly pulled her into a hug.
A hug like they hadn't hugged for years, loving, understandable when they were younger and the world was still in order. And then Alicent heard a sniffle and a shaky exhale, ,,I can't, not when I look into those brown, deeply hurt eyes Alicent my dear I just have to…for my family…and for you,” the princess finally confessed after what seemed like an eternity between them but she said it.
The truth was that they were both suffering from this war, unable to support their family and their loved ones who stood on the other side. Alcient put her hand on the cheek of the older one, their eyes looking at each other before she put her forehead against the other's, they held each other for a moment.
The scent of the candles and the smell of the bushes from the sacred places of the seven surrounded them, the scent that had always clung to alicnet and the light smoke and the scent of the princess's roses, the scent of the dragon that did not pursue the rose petals as a chosen symbol as the first princess of the realm.
Before the princess gave the widow queen a chaste kiss, a clear sign that it was all right for her to forgive her. A kiss that they had only exchanged a few times, a short chaste kiss of uncertain feelings and yet affection.
A sign that the black and green around them were tightening as the different colors on the dragon came closer and closer, killing each other one by one until there was nothing left of the one-time love they had ever shared.
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Criston : The sword of the white queen for years, the teacher of metal for the king and his brother and the protector of the three royal children who never really had a father.
He was the leader of the bodyguard of the new green royal family, a sword that came into action when he was called, when he was ordered to do something and when he had to protect.
But a few months ago he had acted of his own free will, a fact that still leaves him with questions to this day. He had acted on his own initiative, having been ordered by the royal family to watch over them while he ran through the castle, sword in hand and a hunch that Rhaenys would have more on his mind than just escape and warning.
He couldn't get that look of pain, of betrayal out of her dark eyes, a look that pained him as his hand wrapped around her body and pulled her away from the balcony she was about to plunge down to land on the red dragon.
,,She belongs to me and she is my hostage, Princess Rhaenys disappears…I don't belong to any crown!” he had shouted at her and pulled her cousin back into the room, not wanting to grab her so roughly, but it was his own fear of losing her.
The first woman after Rhaenyra who had not taken advantage of him, who had not turned her own power and position against him…it was even stronger than his feelings for the dowager queen.
But it had worked, it had worked with the words of her cousin that the princesses withdrew, Meyleys relaxed and the princesses of the blacks disappeared.
But today, when his rounds took him back to her, the doubts came back to him: she was his hostage, the hostage of the green, and yet, apart from the pain, he saw no hatred, a fact that worried him.
,,Have you no other way to know Sir Criston?” her voice rang out and she peeked slightly out of her room or even her cell which was unlocked but escape was futile without a weapon or her dragon she would not get far. She was that smart but Criston knew she was smarter, she always had been.
The knight came to a stop in front of her door, the clatter of his armor breaking through the style, ,,Of course, but it's my duty to look after you princess,” he replied calmly, a look of peace hitting her he didn't want her to feel uncomfortable.
Not after he had treated her so roughly. But a sad smile crept onto her lips and she glanced at his sword for a moment, ,,You look out for me yes-yes you do by making me your hostage,” she spoke out what had apparently destroyed the friendship, the feelings and the affection between them.
It was his fear of losing her to that stuck-up twat that he had hurt her. But just because his princess in the flesh was his hostage didn't mean it had to ruin everything, did it?
Couldn't there be some kind of court, because he was a knight, a protector, she just had to understand that he had always protected her.
He saw her about to close the door again, but this time it was he who stood there again, not wanting to let her go, and put his foot between the door and the rattling of the armor could be heard again. ,,You know why I did it,” the knight defended himself with a shield of words knowing their feelings could cut deeper than any sword.
They both knew why he had done it which is why he stood here enruet his gaze fixed on her form his hands not on his sword, on his armor but on her waist holding her tight not wanting to let her go again ,,I know and…and that makes it all the worse to feel something like this in the middle of a war” she admitted admitting it was between them as she didn't back away not pushing him away knowing he wouldn't hurt her and yet it was right.
Was it right that she let him in, that he didn't close the door and that he didn't raise his sword against her when he wasn't even under control.
The kiss that was finally allowed, a kiss that was overdue, a kiss to erase her bitterness, a kiss from the knight who had sworn to protect her and would do so.
Even though his kiss had plunged into her body like a sword, her blood had turned from black to green and they were now more than just hostage and hostage taker.
He was now her own sworn shield, he was her personal protector and the man who would not only be her downfall and death in the end, but also the man who had always loved her.
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#hotd#hotd fanfic#aegon ii targaryen#aemond targaryen#helaena targaryen#alicent hightower#criston cole#aegon ii x reader#aemond x reader#helaena x reader#alicent x reader#criston x reader#house of the dragon#male x female#female x female
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My Dearest: Part 3
Pairing: Colin Bridgerton x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 1,835
Summary: What a lovely afternoon for a promenade. There is something unusual brewing in the midst.
Content: No use of y/n, reader’s last name is Bennett for fic purposes but feel free to imagine another surname that’s suitable for you, pining, friends turned lovers and a lot of fluff. Reader has a younger sister and an older brother.
A/N: Thank you for sticking with me through another part! I would love to hear feedback from you.
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In addition, gentle reader, there have been sightings of Lord William Brixton returning to the Ton. It was a scandal when he had left Miss Bennett with no proposal during her debut. There have been whispers of him returning to take her hand once more. Are these rumors or the truth of his presence during this season? We will not know until-
The newest edition of Lady Whistledown was plucked out of your hands by your mother. She scowled because she did not want you and your sister to read the words of the rumor-littered paper. You only read it for entertainment, but it intrigued you to read more when you were mentioned. Lord Brixton's return had certainly been a topic of conversation for the Mamas who had wished to pawn their daughters off to the Lord. Yet you knew that each of them had been turned down due to his interest in you.
It was flattering, to say the least, knowing that he had eyes on you. Soon you thought of Colin, your fingers toyed with the dainty jewel hanging from the necklace he had gifted you. A special gift he purchased because he thought of you. Lord Brixton hadn't bestowed you a personal gift such as that but he simply declared that he wished to court you. You told him you would give it thought, and he had respectfully accepted that you needed time after his abrupt departure that started whispers.
Now with his return, you were deemed desirable to your dismay. You did not want the attention when your sister was the one eager to be married while you were fine being unmarried. If only you could be a wallflower much like Penelope Featherington had been. Was, rather. Lady Whistledown had written down information that you were not aware of a certain Bridgerton helping her to find a husband. He was a good friend to her, so you saw nothing wrong with him aiding. However, there were whispers.
Now you walked alongside your mother as your sister was a few paces ahead with one of her many suitors. At the corner of your eye you saw a familiar figure walk your way with a smile that belonged to no other than Colin Bridgerton. When he had approached you and your mother, he nodded his head in greeting. You and your mother acknowledged him with small curtsies in return.
"Lady Bennett, Miss Bennett," Colin greeted, "Lovely day, isn't it?"
"Yes, quite lovely," you replied, a soft smile gracing your lips.
Colin smiled at you before he glanced at your mother, asking her permission to whisk you away momentarily. She waved you both off with her hand before she continued on to chaperone your sister. A simple chuckle rumbled in Colin's chest as he glanced back at you. He offered his arm to you, and you reached out to hold it as he guided you on the path. Your own maid followed paces behind you to keep you chaperoned.
"It pleases me that you are wearing my gift," he commented.
You smiled warmly at him. "I have taken quite a liking to it," you responded. He turned his head to look at you, and you felt his hand pat your hand that rested on his arm. That smile of his made him swoon.
You suddenly grow nervous, your cheeks warmed as you become aware of how close he is to you. Your heart raced in your chest because you knew that Colin wanted more, but he was not voicing that he did. However, you did try to push past that when you had something to ask of him.
"I did not know you were aiding Penelope to find a husband," you then said.
He was taken by surprise, and a nervous chuckle left him. "Ah, so you read about it then," he said as he looked ahead. "That was true. Since I cannot keep anything from you, I have spoken to her before seeking you out. She has put my help on pause to prevent further gossip."
The smile only grew on your face as you pulled him to stop walking so you could look at him. "That is truly admirable, Colin. I do not see that as a negative thing at all for helping Penelope. It shows your brilliant character," you stated.
His gaze lingered on you, and yours on him. You could see the tiniest hint of pink on his cheeks as you complimented him, which made you giggle in return before you gently tugged him along to continue your walk.
He then cleared his throat. "And what of you and Lord Brixton? Has he really returned to seek your hand?" The question made you gently grip his arm a little tighter and it was his turn to pause your walk to look at you. "What is wrong?" His face was now riddled with concern as he looked you over, seeing that distant look on your face.
A soft sigh left you as you looked elsewhere, now avoiding his gaze. "He wishes to court me again, Colin," you admitted to him. You looked at him now and you saw the look of conflict on his face, his gaze not meeting yours. The look made you desperately want to ease his worries. "I told him I would think of it and he granted me as much time as I needed," you told him.
Colin's eyes met yours, and a small look of relief showed on his features. "Ah, I see," he responded, and a small smile went to his lips, "That makes me glad that he is giving you time."
You wanted to reach out to him, but it would have been inappropriate. You wanted to tell him to convey his feelings. Then you remembered what your mother told you, and that was a woman must not beg. The words he wrote on paper were strong indications that he had feelings for you, but he never spoke them out loud. Was he too afraid to admit his feelings out loud to you? He did not realize how much turmoil he put you through, but you hid it with a mask that showed that you were fine when you weren't. All he had to do was ask and you would give him what he wanted.
"Shall we?" He asked, gesturing to the path once more. You give him a timid smile and a nod before you are off again. The conversation was more about his travels because he hadn't told you everything through his letters. As fascinating as his stories were, your heart grew heavy with want when you wished he wasn't talking to you as a friend.
You left the promenade with unanswered questions that afternoon. The longing you had for Colin burned through your body, and he consumed your every thought. Even now as you stood by the refreshment table at the Cowell House, you were too distracted by your thoughts until your name was being called. You glanced at Penelope as she joined you, and you both shared sheepish smiles.
"I did not think you were one for hiding," she said softly.
A soft laugh left your lips and you shook your head. "Is it that obvious? I believe my head is entirely in the clouds this evening," you responded. She was curious, but you revealed nothing to her. Your private matters were your own, and you did not wish for gossip to ignite from possible eavesdroppers. Lady Whistledown had eyes and ears at every event, and you simply did not want to be written about again.
Your conversation with Penelope was light and short until your eyes met Colin's from across the room. He looked at you in the same way you looked at him. It was like time had stopped. Your breathing was heavy and you had to excuse yourself from Penelope in a rush as you broke eye contact. You dared not to look at him again as you walked somewhere else in the room, your eyes were to the floor as you attempted to make an escape.
You've barely made it five steps until you collide with someone. Hands were on your shoulders to steady you so you wouldn't lose balance, a startled expression on your face as you looked up to meet Lord Brixton's concerned gaze. He retracted his hands from your shoulders and placed them to his sides as you curtsied to him with your gaze to the ground. Your cheeks warmed with embarrassment due to not seeing him in the first place.
"My apologies, Lord Brixton," you said quickly.
The sound of his laugh filled your ears and your look turned to confusion as you looked up at him. "Your apology is not needed, Miss Bennett. I was hoping to see you today actually," he stated as he placed his hands behind his back.
"Oh?" You asked curiously, but you were far from interested when you were more concerned about leaving the room. "Whatever for?" Your gaze went past the lord and your eyes were met with Colin's again. You broke eye contact and looked back at the man in front of you, a warm smile on your lips.
His brow rose in question at your response, but you kept your composure. "I wanted to see you again. I know I left your estate giving you time to think things over, and I will still allow that time, but I find myself thinking of you often," he expressed.
If you did not have feelings for a certain Bridgerton, you would have been completely enamored by his words like you have been in the past season. However, you felt nothing but a tinge of guilt as he spoke kind words and you couldn't reciprocate them. You had to fake a smile to continue playing a façade. Your mother would want you to be with someone like Lord Brixton, but he was not what your heart yearned for.
"That is quite flattering, Lord Brixton," you said. Suddenly you felt more aware of your surroundings when you felt eyes on you. "Unfortunately, I am feeling unwell, and I wish to go home," you told him.
"Oh, that's too bad. Shall I escort you out?" He did not look pleased, but he was not going to push. You knew him to be too much of a gentleman to push something unwanted on you.
"No, it is fine, I can manage on my own," you replied and gave a weak smile, "I will see you again, Lord Brixton. Have a good evening." You gave him a curtsy before you walked off. You tried not to walk too fast as you kept moving through the crowd while avoiding certain glances. Just like that, you were gone from the Cowell House.
What you didn't see was that Colin Bridgerton was watching your escape, and there was a triumphant look on his face when he looked back to Lord Brixton looking puzzled.
#colin bridgerton fanfiction#colin bridgerton fanfic#colin bridgerton x reader#colin bridgerton x you#bridgerton fanfiction
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btw this is my cue to tell y’all to check out carmen sandiego, if you haven’t already! it’s not super deep but it still has a compelling storyline and good messages. and most importantly, it has ACTUAL poc representation, various male AND female characters with different body types, and some casual queer representation.
(mild spoilers below, because i really want to gush about this show)
it also does a lot of the stuff that spop fails to do. shadowsan gets a pretty good redemption arc and carmen isn’t forced to trust or forgive him immediately. he also has an arc with his brother where he rights the wrong he once did, and actually puts in effort to be a better person (and if i remember correctly, his brother still doesn’t forgive him, which is actually really refreshing to see). when the villains try to drive a wedge between carmen and shadowsan, they actually talk things out and COMMUNICATE instead of jumping to conclusions for added drama.
the show also places a lot of emphasis on platonic relationships. carmen’s quest to learn the truth about her family and find her mother is prioritized over her love life. she has a really wholesome friendship with player, ivy and zack (especially player, i love how much they care about each other) and she develops a nice father-daughter type relationship with shadowsan. she also has a platonic sibling-type relationship with her childhood friend graham, and she insists on keeping it platonic and referring to him as her older brother, even when he starts showing romantic interest in her (they weren’t raised as siblings or anything btw they were just school friends).
in the end, the villains get arrested and actually have to pay the price for what they did. and they weren’t even war criminals, they were just thieves, but the story doesn’t insist on coddling them or redeeming all of them for no reason. and the kids (now adults) who were raised in V.I.L.E get a chance to redeem themselves without imposing themselves on any of the people they hurt.
i also love that this isn’t a story of a chosen hero. carmen chose her own destiny, it was not thrust upon her. she was just a normal person and she continues being a normal person while trying to do good in the world, and inspiring people to follow her lead along the way. not to mention, i really like how refreshing her personality is. she’s sassy and cunning and quick-witted, she sometimes uses dubious methods to do the right thing, she knows her worth and knows when to set boundaries, and she’s a hero despite not fitting into the ideal hero archetype.
#oh also carmen is an adult so it’s not weird when she wears something revealing or flirts with someone#and even then she isn’t nearly as sexualized as catra or any of the characters in spop#i just realized i forgot to mention devineaux#he’s absolutely hilarious and also has a surprisingly good character arc#carmen sandiego#carmen sandeigo 2019#carmen sandeigo netflix
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this college au isn't getting out of my head so here y'all go, some headcanons
despite being the first in the world at age 15 LXY still ended up with crippling self-worth issues and imposter syndrome.. makes me think he'd be a burnt out fgli (first-generation low-income) student at a rich school.. university au (this has nothing to do at all with my experiences as a fgli student at an ivy league school lmaoo)
of course FDB is a shoo in legacy student and at first LLH is is incredibly annoyed bc FDB is clearly a rich kid who got in with his parents money
the name i picked for FDB is 择信 ("zéxìn" or "to choose faith"). his dad's name is 则仕 ("zéshì" literally "officer" the author is laugh at us so that zé didn't work, i picked another one to better fit my intention. same sound though.)
he's still called duobing as a nickname bc he was a sickly child, but fang zexin is what appears on official documents and his student id. of course his mom and his aunt still call him "xiaobao" and later on so does LLH
FDB abuses his "xiaohua" priviledges and when he extra wants something he'll pull out "xiaohua'er"
just them warming up to each other to deal with school stress. think of all the shenanigans!! i feel like 3am on a school campus is when you feel like you can do anything super well, even make empanadas when you've never made empanadas before (did i do this freshman year? yes.)
bonus: LXY has a phd in bio-med and is a famous researcher, but he's getting a herbology? nursing? (still deciding tbh) degree as LLH and passing it off as his first undergrad. he made a small fortune from his first go around so he can afford it, but i feel like he donated most of it and/or gave it to QMS + QP + SGD
yes i made LXY a genius progidy med student who got into college at 15 and wrangled a phd + patent at age 18. he's literally every asian parent's golden child wet dream. no wonder he disappeared and changed his name and only resurfaced 10 years later.
FDB is of course an engineering and business student (dual degree, our xiaobao is a champ) and he buys all the school swag cuz he has the spirit
bonus bonus: fdb is a professional college fencer lmaoo. do they have professional college martial arts?
bonus bonus li'er is a part of the family staff but the fang/he family pays handsomely so she's kinda uppity. she doesn't understand why her young master is hanging out with someone 1) obviously older and 2) obviously poorer
FDB of course falls in love at first sight bc LLH happens to be the most drop dead gorgeous person he's ever seen and reminds him vaguely of the researcher that helped with the cure to his childhood illness. surely there's no connection right..
FDB is 20 when he starts college bc he took a two year break to do an internship at his mother's company. it looks great on his resume and conveniently works well so i can line up canon ages
FDB finds out LLH is living in a van and immediately tries to move him into his dorm (freshman year). of course that doesn't work out, but i think around sophmore year, once they've started dating, he would've whittled down LLH enough for him to agree to live together in a house off-campus. LLH tries several times to convince the 20yo that he can do better than some old man who's just starting his undergrad at age 28 (my man breathes lies). FDB is literally signing their lease as he speaks.
bonus bonus bonus (and my fave): LLH makes those terrible tiktok recipes that never work but he keeps trying and the first couple of times FDB actually tries pretending that LLH's cooking is fantastic
bonus x4: DFS went to trade school and owns a handyman service (he makes bank doing it) and the jinyuan alliance is his crew of fixers. FDB is convinced DFS is a mob boss because LLH is always calling him Di 老大 (lǎo dà) when he comes around to fix LLH's rundown van. DFS gives LLH the i'm in love with u family discount but he'll never admit to it. the two of them have known each other since grade school.
bonus x5: DFS and LXY both did the same martial arts extracircular and were known rivals (affectionate) in those circles. they were constantly swapping between placing 1st and 2nd in tournaments.
bonus x5 extra bonus just for me: at one point LXY did call DFS "gege" before he grew out of it / they drifted a part. obvs they reconcillated bc LLH needed a van guy and DFS under all those scowls does care for LXY a lot.
bonus x6: LLH and JLQ absolutely know they are cousins (just bc it's hilarious for me if they do). they don't talk about it but JLQ hates him for "stealing" DFS's attention since their naptime days. he's her cousin timmy. LLH doesn't even know that he's seduced the love of her life, he's just vibing. DFS tries to explain to her that he's gay and has never been interested in women, but she doesn't believe in homosexuals exactly like in canon lmaoo
bonus x7: SGD and LXY were both in an orphanage before they got adopted by qi mushan and qin po. SGD protected LXY like an older brother, but got more bitter and jealous as LXY clearly displayed genius level academic excellence and as a by product got more attention (more care into selecting schools, more time dedicated to LXY's extracirculars, more time spent driving LXY to conferences and stuff as his research gained more traction)
can you imagine the pressure little xiangyi would've been put under to excel, and to excel bc he got this chance when all the other kids at the orphanage didn't? qi mushan and qin po weren't exacty rich, i imagine he must've felt so stressed being bombarded with scholarships and whatnot while his brother steadily closed himself off from xiangyi
nothing just imposter syndrome going off the charts when rumors started going around that a mistake in LXY's research cost someone their life. that no one should've trusted a teenager to be that smart. that some orphan kid just wanted attention and should've never been given a chance. it breaks him.
unintential pressure from qi mushan, qin po and SGD. why was he protected / saved / chosen if not to make their lives easier and to make them proud with his achivements. he's carrying his made-up expectations of their expectations and SGD's expectations
something something my dad was drunk one night and came on campus and told me i was the hope of our entire family bc i was the first to get into a good school and i could make something of myself. i was 18 at the time, same age as when LXY during his famous battle, and i just. feel some type of way. like. the man was carrying the expectations of the entire jianghu on his back. how was he not gonna be overwhelmed and break down?
bc this is a modern au i can make LXY go to therapy :) it takes a few years for him to be convinced to go (he is asian after all LOL), but he does go eventually and it helps him get the will to start again. FDB knows and actively encourages and praises LLH for taking care of himself.
LLH still carries the same self-hatred he has for his younger self bc he thinks his arrogance caused a mistake in his research and ended up causing ppl to die. he's working on it, okay, it's gonna take time
i'll end this with some crack: FDB accidentally hears DFS call LLH "xiangyi" and proceeds to give him an entire speech abt deadnames and such. it's bc he's seen LLH react to being called "xiangyi" before (come on, this guy was a prodigy and he's back at uni, some of the professors are bound to recognize him) and it's never pretty. he ends by saying "it's not like lianhua is running away from the law, he's not doing anything wrong" yes he thinks LLH is trans lmaoo. the entire time, DFS is giving him an incredious look. LXY was in fact running away from the law (or at least the press lmaoo). LLH is just standing there with an amused look on his face like "my xiaobao is a little confused, but he's got the spirit"
#sorry this is such a long post i got very excited#pls come talk to me abt the lotus man and his boyfriends#i love them#maybe this is spurred by my desire to see cy in a good modern drama#but my brain was like 'modern au modern au!!!'#also was i the only one that found out sgd was 10 years older than lxy two months after i finished the show#mysterious lotus casebook#mlc#mlcb#lianhua lou#lhl#li lianhua#li xiangyi#fang duobing#di feisheng#kitty rambles#my stuff
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Hope for the Future
~2k, Dreamling, 1589 era, post-Eleanor's death, dream conversations and revelations. cw death in childbirth
Dream and Hob meet at Eleanor's deathbed, in a fashion.
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Ages ago I wrote Patron Saint, a fic about Hob's friendship with Death. For a while I wanted to write a companion piece from Dream's POV since Dreamling is a background ship in that fic but their trajectory is different from canon. But lbr it's been 2 years and I haven't done that-- early on, though, I did write one scene from Dream's POV because I wanted to flesh out a potential moment that Death mulls on in Patron Saint, when she was visiting Hob after Eleanor and the baby died:
“So many babies die,” Hob says. “Mothers, too, I—” he runs a hand through greasy, disheveled hair. “Do you think it will be better in the future? Because I haven’t seen that much improved. Not in my time.”
“I imagine so, yes,” Death says. Dream would be able to answer this question for him better. Dream would be able to tell him what doctors might be imagining solutions to the problem, what midwives were dreaming of new ways to care for their charges. Hope for the future is Dream’s business, whether he accepts it or not.
She wishes Dream were here. She has a strong feeling Hob would find even his stoic pretense at apathy comforting. Caring for others is strange like that.
Anyway I wanted that scene, I wrote that scene, I didn't write anything else to flesh out a companion piece but I think it stands on its own and can be understood even without reading the original fic.
--
Dream would assert that he did not care about Hob Gadling. He was not interested in Hob Gadling, beyond a passing curiosity in his approach to humanity, sated every hundred years. He was certainly not thinking about Hob Gadling, or his wife and small child and knighthood and other life goals he’d managed to accrue in this century.
And yet, as he felt a particularly vicious nightmare go for Hob in his sleep, not long after their last meeting, he took note.
He wasn’t sure why he took note. Perhaps because Hob had been on such a disgusting high last they’d met, it seemed strange for this to happen now. Perhaps because he knew this nightmare particularly well, had crafted it from deep in his own soul, as he so rarely did.
He followed the thread of the nightmare.
Hob was running. Both from and after something at once. A darkness chased him. And another darkness retreated from him.
“Wait!” he yelled, reaching for it. Smoke slipped through his hands. Hob heaved for breath, stumbling to a stop as he ran out of air. He leaned on his knees, panting and coughing. “Wait,” he sobbed, but the darkness did not wait.
The other wave of darkness caught him, knocking him off his feet so he sprawled on the ground, hands scraping on the dirt. It didn’t attack him, just hovered over him like a blanket of fog, blocking the meager light.
“You weren’t supposed to go,” Hob said into the darkness. It didn’t reply.
It was not an unreasonable nightmare for a father to have, Dream knew well enough. But the sharpness of those dark shadows – this nightmare was not pure fiction. It was drawing more from memory than he’d thought.
“Enough of this drama,” he commanded the nightmare. “Show me the truth of things.”
The scene of darkness faded to reveal an ordinary, if well-appointed bedroom. An air of sickness hovered, and death also – Dream could feel the echo of his sister near.
A sickly woman, heavily pregnant, lay in the bed, and it was she that Dream knew was calling Death forth. She, and the tiny baby cradled in her womb, not quite ready to be born, and now would never be.
And Hob – not dying, he couldn’t, but he looked about as close to it as a man could come. Ashen, shaky, trembling.
“I love you,” he was saying, kissing Eleanor’s hand. “You know?”
This was still a dream, and this had all already occurred, Dream knew. There was nothing he could do here, not that he would. He turned to go, feeling stiff and cold in a way he decidedly did not like, when Hob looked up, and saw him.
Dream had not meant to be seen.
“My friend,” said Hob, surprise temporarily wiping the grief from his features. “You’re here.”
“I… am,” Dream conceded, and, drawn in despite himself, sat in a chair beside Hob.
“I’m grateful for it,” said Hob. Dream didn’t know what he could possibly be providing that Hob was grateful for. Then, “There’s no hope, is there? I mean. I don’t know why I’d think you would know.”
Dream looked at the mother and baby before him. Hob had called him friend. A friend, he thought, would tell Hob that there was always hope. But that was not what Dream believed.
“I do not think so,” he said. “I am… sorry.”
Hob sighed. He was still holding Eleanor’s hand. “I have to tell you, I– whatever I might’ve said to you at our last meeting, I’m struggling to feel any of it right now.”
“That is understandable.” More understandable, Dream thought, than his declaration of Life is rich! that Dream had found so hard to swallow.
“I’ve known others who’ve lost wives, children,” Hob said, and Dream looked down. Hob would have no way of knowing who those others might have included. “But I guess I always thought, not me, never me, never my Eleanor. Not until she was old and gray, anyway. But I guess everyone thinks that, don’t they?”
“Perhaps.” Dream thought he himself had always known the cost would come due. Destiny might have said that was one of the reasons it did come due. You make your own end. But that would not help Hob.
“It’s got to get better,” Hob asserted. “It’s got to. It’s got to stop some day, doesn’t it? All these children, and mothers dying.”
The instinct to sneer at his optimism jumped up Dream’s throat, but he managed to bite it off. He did not want to be… cruel, he realized, to someone who was suffering. Especially within a dream; dreamers’ minds were not for him to subject to his own feelings.
“In Guangzhou,” he started slowly, the dreams coming to him like a light rainfall, “there is a doctor who has just crafted a new medicine to ease pain during childbirth. She has been dreaming of it for years. In Oyo, a healer is learning to tell earlier and earlier when a pregnancy is troubled, that they might intervene in time. A few months more, and they will have it. And down the street, here in London, a midwife is just planting the seeds for the hospital she will open to help unwed mothers with nowhere to turn.”
Hob stared at him. He seemed to be holding his breath.
“Dreamers abound,” Dream said, “but it takes time for their work to come to fruition.”
Hob continued to watch him. Something shifted in his eyes, as he looked at Dream. Dream wasn’t certain he liked it.
“You know everything, don’t you?” Hob said.
“Not everything.”
“You know all of that,” Hob mused, “all these things that are happening. And… you still come to ask me if I wish to live?”
Dream bristled, and Hob raised his hands in surrender. “Never mind, never mind, forget I said anything. You’re entitled to your own feelings on the matter. Thank you, for those stories. It helps. Truly. And I’m glad that I’ll get to see it. One day.”
“‘One day,’” Dream echoed. “‘One day’ is a time when no children die and no famine walks the earth, when soldiers break their swords before the fight, and later bread with their enemies. One day is always one step into the future, Hob Gadling. Ever-moving.”
“Aye,” said Hob. “That’s the point.”
Dream frowned. What pleasure could be derived from wanting and wanting, and never having, he could not fathom. He had crafted nightmares thus. What hope to find in hope itself continually being dashed?
“I look forward to seeing you every century, you know that?” Hob added. “No matter what else happens. Bad days, or good ones.”
Dream kept frowning, unsure of the connection.
“It’s important to have those things,” Hob said. He squeezed Eleanor’s still hand. “Even now. Especially now.”
In Dream’s own… aftermath… he could not imagine finding comfort in anything. What help could some nebulous future date possibly be?
“If that is what helps you,” he said.
Hob cast him a look like he just knew that Dream didn’t get it, and it rankled. But there was no true criticism in that look. Hob looked at him with an unfathomable fondness, always.
He turned back to Eleanor, just gazing at her face with an expression Dream found difficult to witness in its softness. Were this the waking world, she would have certainly passed by now. But moments could freeze indefinitely in the Dreaming.
“Do you think I’ll forget her?” Hob asked quietly, still looking at his wife. “The details of her face, I mean? Her voice? What she smelled like? My memory’s far from perfect, and there’s a lot of time for it to fade.”
Dream knew without having to actively make the vow to himself that he would be sending frequent dreams Hob’s way to ensure he did not. He should not do so. He should not interfere.
But.
“There are some things one does not forget,” he said.
Hob swiped at his eyes. He was crying now. “S’pose you’re right.”
If Dream was any sort of friend – and he was not sure that he was, though Hob had declared him so – he would end this dream now and spare Hob any further torment of reliving this memory.
Instead, he sat beside him, far longer than he intended. Sat in silence, listened to Hob’s breaths, his sniffles as he cried, the subtle movements of continued life. He stayed in this sea of human endings and sickness and grief. With Hob. Something unnameable sitting heavier and heavier within him. And more than once he told himself to rise and to end the dream, and he did not.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Hob finally said, when much time had passed and they still sat side-by-side. And it was this that finally reminded Dream that he should not be.
“I should leave you,” he said, standing abruptly. “This dream is–”
“Wait.” Hob took his hand. Dream should– Dream should yank it away in offense. He should take his leave of Hob instantly for the familiarity, the daring.
He did not. He merely stood frozen as Hob pressed his hand between both of his own. His touch was very warm.
“Keep all those things in mind,” Hob said. His eyes still glittered with tears, but his words were steady. “Those infinite things you know about the world. Wherever you’re going.”
“I have much in mind at all times,” Dream told him. Hob had no idea how much.
Hob smiled at him sadly. “I’m sure. Just think about it, okay? Those doctors in those faraway places. Alright?”
Dream studied him, but gleaned no additional information from it. “Very well,” he said at last.
Hob squeezed his hand once more, then let him go.
A friend might comfort him again, in these circumstances. But Dream was not certain it was necessary. He could see in Hob, even now, the spine of a man who would not break, even when he was so far down.
It was… curious.
Hob bid him farewell, eyes just crinkling at the corners. “Until we meet again, dear stranger.”
Dream stepped back into the comforting arms of the Dreaming proper, discomfited by the moment in a way he could not quite pin down, and by his own willingness to stay and engage in it at all. To involve himself in Hob’s life in a way he had not intended.
“Until then, Hob Gadling,” he said, letting the scene dissolve around them, “this dream is over.”
#continuing to clean out WIPs and stuff that I'll probably never finish#this thing is so old#dreamling#patron saint#my writing#cw death in childbirth
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