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mercillery · 6 months ago

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MARINES AS GUARDIAN ANGELS!

WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + NOT PROOFREAD

NOTES: this was a really random idea that’s been sitting in drafts for too long. someone please write more for the marines 💔

AOKIJI/KUZAN

As your guardian angel, Aokiji takes a chill approach—literally and figuratively.

Picture him lounging in an oversized beanbag cloud, sipping iced coffee (because hot coffee is just too much work) while keeping one lazy eye on you. He’s the kind of guardian angel who firmly believes in your freedom to live your life, make your choices, and occasionally trip over them like a newborn giraffe learning to walk.

“Growth, y'know?” he’d say with a shrug, ice cubes clinking in his drink. He's not hovering over you with a checklist of rules—he’s more like a life coach who doesn’t believe in micromanaging.

Aokiji's presence is undeniably calming, like a cool breeze on a sweltering day or the sound of rain when you're wrapped in a blanket. You won’t always see him stepping in, but that’s part of his method.

Subtle nudges? Oh, he’s got those in spades. You might feel an inexplicable urge to turn left instead of right, or decide to call it quits on a bad idea at the last second. That’s Aokiji for you. He’s like the universe’s “Are you sure about that?” pop-up notification—but without the nagging.

Now, don’t get it twisted: Aokiji isn’t lazy, he’s strategically hands-off. Why? Because he wants you to learn how to fend for yourself. “It’s your life, not mine,” he’d remind you, probably lying on a cloud hammock and tossing snowballs into the abyss for fun.

He genuinely believes in you, even when you don’t believe in yourself. He figures that if he’s always there holding your hand, you’ll never learn to walk on your own. “And besides,” he might add with a yawn, “you’d just get annoyed with me after a while.”

But let’s talk about when you mess up. You know those moments when you think, This is genius, but it turns out to be a disaster? Aokiji lets you go through with it—not because he enjoys watching you flail okay, maybe a little, but because he knows mistakes are part of the process. He might even be sitting there like, “Hmm, this’ll be a good lesson. Painful, sure, but memorable.”

Of course, he’s got limits. If your grand oopsie is about to land you in the ICU or worse, you’ll suddenly find yourself narrowly avoiding disaster, courtesy of a well-timed intervention. He’s not heartless, after all. “Eh, can’t let you die; that’d make me look bad,” he’d say with his trademark deadpan delivery.

The real humor here is in how he communicates with you. Instead of some grand angelic vision, you might get a sudden brain freeze while debating a bad idea. Or maybe a random bird drops an icicle near your feet, and you’re like, “What the heck?!”

Meanwhile, Aokiji’s up there smirking, muttering, “Message received, I hope.” He’s not about to hold neon signs that scream DON’T DO IT, but he’ll definitely leave breadcrumbs for you to figure things out.

Aokiji, as your guardian angel, is the embodiment of patience—like, Buddha-level patience, but with way more chill and significantly less sitting under trees. He doesn’t push, prod, or poke.

Instead, he’s the guy who casually tosses a single, offhand comment into the mix that leaves you spiraling into an existential crisis. You’ll find yourself staring into the distance, thinking, Wait… was that… wisdom? And it always is.

The kicker? He does it so rarely that every time he decides to share something meaningful, it’s like being hit by a truck made of profound truths. You walk away stunned, muttering, “Wow, okay, Mr. Cool Nonchalant Guardian Angel. Didn’t know I signed up for a TED Talk today.”

But those nuggets of wisdom? Oh, they stick. Some lodge themselves in your brain permanently, popping up at random moments years later, leaving you to wonder how this laid-back angel became a cornerstone of your moral philosophy. You’re not even mad about it. If anything, you’re a little awestruck. He’s like the personification of “quiet cool,” and every time he speaks, it feels like hearing the world’s calmest mic drop.

Aokiji’s ability to understand human emotions is almost spooky. He doesn’t just get you—he gets you.

You could be a sobbing mess of self-doubt and regret, and there he is, just vibing, no judgment in sight. “Yeah, you screwed up,” he’d say, leaning back like it’s no big deal. “But who hasn’t? That’s kind of the whole point of being human.” And somehow, those simple words are exactly what you needed to hear. If it were physically possible, he’d pat you on the back, but instead, you get a breeze, a faint chill, and a casual remark like, “Relax, kid. You’re doing fine. Maybe take a chill pill while you’re at it.”

He’s the angel you instinctively turn to during your worst emotional slumps, partly because he’s so good at making you feel better, and partly because you know he’ll listen without so much as raising an eyebrow.

He doesn’t lecture or overwhelm you with advice; instead, he offers thoughtful insights that make you stop, think, and—more often than not—reassess everything you thought you knew. His words aren’t just comforting; they’re life-altering. You might find yourself walking away with a fresh perspective on your struggles, life in general, and the universe itself.

But here’s the kicker: Just when you’re about to thank him for being the coolest, most insightful guardian angel in existence, he’s gone.

Poof.

Out of sight.

You’ll look around, confused, only to realize he’s off napping somewhere, snoring like a chainsaw. He’s like that friend who gives you the world’s best advice and then immediately acts like it was no big deal. Honestly, you’re starting to think he does it on purpose—drops some wisdom, lets you stew on it, and then ghosts like he’s too cool for gratitude.

Still, you can’t help but admire the guy. Aokiji is the guardian angel you didn’t know you needed, with a knack for making you feel seen, understood, and, weirdly enough, okay with all the messy bits of life. Sure, he’s napping more often than not, but when he’s there? Oh, he delivers.

Aokiji is the kind of guardian angel who sees life not as a perfectly arranged puzzle but as a beautiful, chaotic mess—and he wants you to see it that way too. He encourages you to embrace the imperfections, those little unexpected quirks that make life worth living.

Spill coffee on your shirt during a meeting? He’d probably shrug and mutter, “Eh, you’ve got character now.” Trip over your own feet in public? “Style it out,” he’d say in your mind. If you’re too hard on yourself, he’s right there, reminding you to ease up. “Come on, kid, the world’s already tough enough. You don’t need to pile on yourself too.” His voice in your head is like a soothing balm for your overworked inner critic.

When it comes to guiding you, Aokiji isn’t about hand-holding or spoon-feeding. He’s more like the cool uncle who asks the kind of questions that leave you wondering, Wait, was that advice, or was he just messing with me?

He nudges, hints, and lets you figure it out. Trusting your instincts is something he wants you to master, and he’s there to give you the confidence to do it. But don’t expect a detailed PowerPoint presentation on what to do—this is Aokiji, not a corporate retreat.

Now, dangerous situations? That’s where Aokiji gets serious. He doesn’t mess around when someone—or something—threatens his human. If harm is coming your way, he steps in, ice-cold resolve and all, to make sure you’re safe.

He’s got a rule: if you mess up and learn the hard way, fine. That’s growth. But harm coming from another person? Absolutely not. He’s not about to let you get hurt on his watch. Whether it’s de-escalating a heated argument, keeping you out of physical danger, or just freezing the bad vibes in their tracks, Aokiji ensures you walk away unharmed, emotionally and physically intact. You don’t even realize how much he does for you half the time because, well, he’s subtle like that.

But here’s the best part—Aokiji’s big brother energy. Later that night, when the adrenaline has worn off, and you’re snuggled under your blanket, ready to doze off, he might quietly check in.

Maybe he descends from wherever angels chill out and, with his usual laid-back demeanor, murmurs, “You okay, kid?” And there it is again—that kid nickname. It’s not condescending, not in the least. It’s warm, protective, and a little teasing, like he’s the big brother you didn’t know you needed.

Sometimes it’s easy to forget he’s technically an angel and not just your overchill sibling figure. He calls you “kid” so often, you half expect him to ruffle your hair one day.

Aokiji isn’t flashy or overbearing; he’s just there, in the best way possible—steady, reliable, and cool as ice. You feel safe knowing that, whether it’s finding beauty in life’s chaos or keeping you safe from harm, he’s always got your back.

KIZARU/BORSALINO

Kizaru’s style as your guardian angel is as perplexing as it is entertaining. He’s a walking enigma wrapped in golden light, delivering cryptic remarks that leave you scratching your head more often than not.

His approach? A strange mix of lighthearted teasing, unpredictable antics, and that signature laid-back demeanor that somehow manages to both calm and confuse you at the same time.

Imagine this: you’re stressing over a big decision, and suddenly, out of nowhere, Kizaru pops in with his usual drawl, “Oooh, what’s the rush? Doesn’t seem that urgent to me.” You turn to him, shooting him the most baffled “what?” look in existence, only to find him lazily smirking like he just walked off a beach. His expression clearly says, What? What?—and now you’re even more confused.

Naturally, you’re like, “What did you mean by tha—” but before you can finish, he casually snaps his fingers, and suddenly your coffee spills... somehow forming a perfect replica of a smiley face on the table.

You’re left staring at the mess, dumbfounded, as Kizaru stretches, mutters, “Guess that’s your sign,” and vanishes into thin air, leaving you no closer to answers but definitely distracted enough to forget what you were worrying about.

When it comes to intervention, Kizaru operates on a whole other wavelength. He’s not going to swoop down dramatically to save you from danger—that’s too ordinary for him. No, his methods are indirect and borderline bizarre.

Maybe he makes your phone randomly restart, delaying you just enough to avoid crossing paths with a reckless driver. Or perhaps your shoe suddenly comes untied, forcing you to stop and miss stepping into a bad situation.

It all seems coincidental, but then, just as you’re shaking your head at your “bad luck,” you catch the faintest sound, like a whisper carried on the breeze: “Oooh, close one.” It’s so distant, so ridiculously faint, that you almost convince yourself you imagined it. Almost.

Kizaru’s interventions always leave you wondering. Is he deliberately cryptic for fun, or is there a method to his madness? Either way, his unpredictable nature means you never know exactly what to expect.

One day, he might save you with the equivalent of a cosmic prank; the next, he’ll throw you a curveball disguised as the world’s most nonsensical advice. But that’s just Kizaru for you—never straightforward, always keeping you on your toes, and somehow managing to make you laugh in the middle of chaos.

Despite his laid-back attitude, Kizaru has an almost intimidating depth of knowledge and experience. He’s been around the cosmic block a few times, but you’d never know it by the way he casually tosses advice your way—if you can even call it advice. His pearls of wisdom tend to come wrapped in riddles and cryptic one-liners that make you feel like you’re playing some celestial guessing game.

You’ll stand there, trying not to pull your hair out, and blurt, “Can you just give me a normal answer for once?!” But no, not Kizaru. Instead, he’ll give you that trademark smirk, shrug in slow motion, and murmur something like, “Mmm… why do today what can wait until tomorrow?”

Then he vanishes, leaving you with nothing but your rising blood pressure and the gnawing suspicion that his nonsense will somehow make sense later. Spoiler alert: it does. And when it finally clicks, you’re equal parts impressed and annoyed because, of course, he knew what he was talking about all along.

But let’s not mistake his nonchalance for indifference. Beneath that carefree exterior, Borsalino is fiercely loyal to you. He might act like he’s just here for the vibes, but the truth is, he’s always keeping a close eye on you. His interventions are so seamless, so bizarrely timed, that they feel almost miraculous.

Picture this: you’re seconds away from stepping into a complete disaster, and suddenly, out of nowhere, you hear his voice drawl, “Ooooh… nice try, but no.” Before you can even process what’s happening, the threat is neutralized in the most inexplicable way.

One time, you’re about to walk into a room that’s about to collapse, and bam—the door jams before you can enter. You stand there, frustrated, yanking at the handle like it’s some kind of cosmic joke.

Later, when you realize what you narrowly avoided, you hear the faint echo of his chuckle. “Bet you’re glad you didn’t get in,” he’d say, probably lounging on a cloud, sunglasses slightly askew.

And his methods? Completely unconventional, borderline ridiculous, and yet undeniably effective. He doesn’t fight danger head-on. Instead, he works smarter, not harder, defusing situations in ways that leave you standing there, blinking, like, *Wait, what just happened?* Did the danger really disappear, or did Kizaru just bend the laws of reality around you for fun? Probably both.

Kizaru is the wildcard of the guardian angel trio, and oh boy, does he embrace the role with gusto. Unpredictable, occasionally maddening, and always one step ahead, he keeps you on your toes like it’s his celestial hobby.

His favorite pastime? Teasing you into oblivion. Whether it’s a cheeky remark about your life choices or a cryptic observation that leaves you spiraling in self-reflection, he somehow manages to fluster and enlighten you in the same breath. You’ll glare at him, cheeks puffed in frustration, and he’ll just raise an eyebrow, his smirk practically saying, “Did I say something wrong? Noooo… I don’t think so."

When life has you wound tighter than a violin string, Kizaru steps in with his patented chaotic chill energy to shake things up. He’s the angel equivalent of a “live a little” poster, casually reminding you to loosen up and stop sweating the small stuff.

Overthinking something? He might “accidentally” cause your phone to die mid-rant, leaving you forced to sit with your thoughts and, begrudgingly, chill out. Spilling your coffee? Misplacing your keys? Yeah, that’s probably him too. But hey, it’s harmless enough—just enough chaos to nudge you into realizing that life doesn’t always have to be taken so seriously.

His humor is his greatest weapon against your stress. Say you’re in the middle of a meltdown over tomorrow’s presentation; he’ll saunter in, leisurely as ever, and go, “Oooh… stressing already? You didn’t even mess up yet! Guess you like to start early, huh?”

Cue your annoyed groan as he lounges somewhere nearby, maybe filing his nails or inspecting his sunglasses. His nonchalant attitude can be infuriating, but deep down, you know he’s got a point.

And Kizaru isn’t just messing around—he’s strategic about his nonsense. He knows when to lighten the mood and when to drop a line that actually sticks with you. Sure, he can be playful, but his ultimate goal is to remind you that life is meant to be lived, not just stressed over.

Tomorrows’ worries? That’s for tomorrow. Today’s? Eh, deal with them and move on. He’s not about to let his adorable, flustered little human keel over from worry. "Can’t have you overthinking yourself to an early grave," he’d joke, smirking as you roll your eyes.

AKAINU/SAKAZUKI

Oh boy, where do we even begin with Akainu?

Strap in, because this guy takes the concept of “guardian angel” to a whole new level. You thought guardian angels were supposed to be all soft and comforting? Not Akainu. Nope. He’s not here to coddle you; he’s here to run your life like a military operation. Imagine having a drill sergeant and a guardian angel rolled into one, and you’ll start to get the picture.

Akainu takes his role very seriously. Like, obsessively so. His whole vibe screams, I will protect you at all costs, even if it’s from yourself, and you will thank me later.

And yeah, you do feel safe with him around, but let’s be real—it’s hard to relax when you’ve got someone barking orders about how to “make better life choices” while glaring at your empty water bottle like hydration is a personal affront. "Drink more water. NOW. How are you supposed to survive without proper hydration?"

He’s firm, he’s direct, and he does not mess around. If you so much as think about doing something remotely risky, Akainu is there, arms crossed, his eyebrows furrowed in the most intimidating dad-face imaginable. “What are you doing? Did you think that through? No? Then don’t do it.” And if you try to argue? Forget it. “I’m your guardian angel, not your yes-man. Sit down.”

Anything he sees as a threat—bad friends, bad habits, bad decisions—gets obliterated faster than you can say, “But Akainu, wait—” Nope, no waiting. He’s already neutralized the problem, metaphorically or maybe literally incinerated it, and is giving you the look. You know the one. The look that says, “This wouldn’t have happened if you listened to me the first time."

And let’s talk about how thorough he is when it comes to your safety. During moments of crisis, Akainu’s got the whole situation handled before you even realize there’s a crisis.

Someone’s being aggressive toward you? They’re suddenly very apologetic. Demonic entity lurking around? They take one look at Akainu and nopenopeNOPE their way out of existence. Seriously, demons probably swap horror stories about him around their little demon campfires. “Yeah, I tried to mess with one of his humans once. Never again. The guy’s a walking no-fly zone."

His presence is like a massive, unyielding shield—a big, lava-hot wall of “try it, I dare you” energy. It’s comforting in a Wow, I’m invincible with this guy around kind of way, but also mildly terrifying because Akainu does not do half-measures. He’s all in, all the time.

Despite all his drill-sergeant-meets-volcano-dad intensity, Akainu has a surprising amount of faith in you. Shocking, right? He genuinely believes in teaching you resilience and strength. Sure, he’s the guy who will body-check a demon into another dimension if they even look at you funny, but he also knows that shielding you from every challenge isn’t going to help you grow.

So he lets you struggle a little—not in a cruel way, but just enough for you to toughen up and figure things out. But don’t worry, he’s got an internal alarm that goes off the second things get too real. Stakes too high? He’s there faster than you can say, “Wait, is this lava?”

Here’s the thing about Akainu: he values discipline like it’s a currency, and he really wants you to learn how to take care of yourself. But—big “but” here—he also respects your autonomy.

If you don’t want to listen to him? Fine. That’s on you. Just don’t expect him to take it lightly when your bad decision inevitably explodes in your face. “Oh, so this is what happens when you ignore my advice? Huh. Interesting. Didn’t see that coming. Except I did. I told you it would happen. Repeatedly.”

Even if you do ignore him, curse at him, or (heaven forbid) give him attitude, Akainu isn’t going anywhere. Sure, he might look like he’s about to erupt into a full-on volcanic tantrum, his metaphorical head steaming like an active geyser, but here’s the kicker: he’ll still protect you. Because you’re his human, and you’re stuck with him whether you like it or not.

And, yeah, he’ll scold you afterward. Oh boy, will he scold you. His lectures are legendary—part life lesson, part motivational speech, part “how do you not already know this?!” But underneath the frustration and the stern tone, you can tell it all comes from a place of genuine care.

His blunt, sometimes harsh advice might feel like a slap in the face (or a splash of molten lava), but it’s always honest, always unfiltered, and always rooted in his desire to see you thrive.

Akainu keeps a close, very close watch over your life. You think you’re sneaky? Think again. He’s analyzing every decision you make like a CIA agent reviewing classified files. If there’s even a hint of danger, he’s already two steps ahead, ready to intervene. He doesn’t sugarcoat anything, ever.

You’re not going to get soft reassurances or “everything will magically work out” vibes from him. Instead, you get the no-nonsense truth, served with a side of tough love and a lot of crossed arms.

If you’re reckless, self-destructive, or just plain dumb about your decisions, Akainu is going to let you hear about it. You’ll practically feel his fiery glare boring into your soul as he gruffly commands, “Stop that.” Not a suggestion, not a request—just a straight-up order. And, let’s be honest, you’ll probably stop, if only because his tone makes it sound like not stopping would somehow make the Earth implode.

While Aokiji is all about sprinkling breadcrumbs and letting you follow the trail like some kind of life lesson scavenger hunt, Akainu is not about that life. Oh no. Akainu’s approach is more… let’s call it “visually and audibly overwhelming.”

Picture this: he’s standing in front of you holding a giant, blinding neon sign that screams, “DON’T DO IT!” Not enough? Don’t worry—he’s also got a roaring semi-truck idling nearby, a megaphone cranked up to the max, a PA system blasting the same warning on repeat, and, for good measure, an air raid siren wailing in the background. Oh, and fireworks. Big, loud ones spelling out, “I SAID NO.”

And yet, somehow, beneath all the volcanic intensity, Akainu has… a soft spot for you. Yes, Akainu, the walking embodiment of no-nonsense justice, has a tender side. Shocking, I know. Don’t expect him to go all mushy on you—he’s not about to hand out hugs or write heartfelt letters. His care comes through in a way that’s 100% Akainu: practical, efficient, and borderline bossy.

For instance, if you’re not eating properly, he’ll make sure you do—even if it means somehow orchestrating events so your favorite meal shows up at the perfect time. “Coincidence”? Please. That’s Akainu, silently shaking his head at your questionable life choices and ensuring you don’t faint from malnutrition.

Dangerous situation? Forget about it. You’re already being quietly guided away before you even realize the threat existed. Your environment feels oddly stable and secure? Yep, that’s him too, working behind the scenes like the overprotective angel he is.

It’s wild to think about, but Akainu really does care in his own gruff, no-frills way. He might not shower you with affection or words of encouragement, but his actions? Oh, they speak volumes. Because at the end of the day, Akainu’s brand of love is this: making sure his human is alive, well, and not being an idiot.

When it comes to emotional support, Akainu is… well, let’s just say he’s a bit out of his element. It’s not that he doesn’t care—he does, deeply—but the man wouldn’t know how to ask “Are you okay?” if you handed him a script and a teleprompter. Emotional vulnerability? Yeah, that’s uncharted territory for him.

If you’re having a rough time, he’ll ensure you’re safe and secure, no questions asked. Did someone hurt you? He’s already dealt with it—don’t ask how. Are you overwhelmed? Suddenly, your to-do list is mysteriously cleared, and your surroundings feel unnervingly calm. Did you notice your favorite comfort item conveniently reappear out of nowhere? Yeah, that’s him. He’s got your back, but don’t expect him to say it out loud. Words are not his weapon of choice—lava fists are, but we digress.

And, oh, he will check up on you later. Not in a “Hey, how are you holding up?” kind of way. No, his style is more... covert ops. Picture this: you’re fast asleep, blissfully unaware, and Akainu is leaning over you like a silent hawk, his brows furrowed as he inspects your face. Is your expression too tense? Are you frowning? Smiling? Breathing weird? He’s taking mental notes like it’s a military debriefing.

He might even mutter to himself while pacing. “They seem fine… I think. Maybe. But what if they’re not? Should I—no, that’s stupid. They’ll be fine. Probably.” Eventually, he narrows his eyes, nods in silent approval, and disappears back to wherever guardian angels hang out, fully convinced that his midnight reconnaissance mission was a success.

It’s almost sweet—if it weren’t just a tiny bit unsettling. But hey, that’s Akainu for you. He may not be a master of emotional nuance, but he’s got his own way of showing he cares. Whether it’s through practical actions, silent observations, or his “secret” check-ins, you know he’s always watching over you… in his Akainu way. And honestly? That’s more comforting than he’ll ever admit.

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kawacake · 2 months ago

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Only one | Oliver Aiku

Masterlist

Warnings: Toxic relationship dynamics, Cheating, Baby trapping (manipulation via pregnancy), Emotional manipulation, Gaslighting, Verbal arguments/fights, Implied sexual content, Cursing/profanity, Slight possessiveness/obsession, Parental neglect themes (OLIVER), Mentions of emotional distress, SPELLING MISTAKES!!

W/C: 4k+

A/n: YAWL I’M BACK TO WRITING TODAY I also switched some stuff up like putting INT & EXT hope you like it😛but umm here’s something that came to me from watching an Oliver edit and I would like to say I don’t condone any actions like this and if you’re going through something like this please reach out for help. Other than that I hope you enjoy and leave a heart and reblog and even a comment if you liked it I’d appreciate it, and one last thing I didn’t tag anyone in this because it’s quite literally so early in the morning and I just wanted to get this out💔 BYEEE.

INT. HOSPITAL - LABOR ROOM - NIGHT

The room is dimly lit, buzzing with machines and tension. Hair clinging to your forehead as you gripped the sheets of the hospital bed, legs trembling as your screams bounced off the walls. The nurse counted you down while holding your hand.

“Push, just one more you got this.” The nurse said encouraging you to give one more good push. Oliver paces near the wall, fists clenched, looking like he wants to bolt. He’s only 17, and reality is sinking in like a stone in his stomach. He’s dressed in a hoodie, black joggers, cleats still on from practice. He wasn’t ready for this.

You had called him 40 minutes into his practice screaming at him to come get you NOW because your water had broken while watching a movie so he rushed over to your house and drove you to the nearest hospital while praying he wouldn’t pass out behind the wheel.

“Why the FUCK are you standing over there for?! This is your damn baby too!” You screamed at him as he stumbled towards you grabbing your hand trying to stay calm while watching the nurses try their hardest to get the baby out.

“HURRY UP AND GET IT OUT!” You screamed at the nurses as the pain seemed to get worse, that’s what you get for refusing any medication when you first got here. “I’m here. I got you, okay? Just breathe. I’m not going anywhere.” Oliver reassured you brushing hair out of your face.

You snarled at him “You better not I’d fucking kill you.” The monitor spikes up as the nurse looks up at you and urges that you push one last time as you let out a deep guttural cry, and then a shrill, wet wail cuts through the room.

“IT’S A GIRL!” The nurse cheers Oliver's breath hitches. The world seemed to fade out as the nurse lifted the tiny little human and placed it on your chest.

Tears formed in your eyes as you looked down at your baby. You’re sobbing now, exhausted, broken but your eyes are wide with something Oliver couldn’t name, maybe fear, love, or maybe both. Oliver just stares, and it hits him, he’s a father, and you’re now stuck with him. Something deep in his twisted heart loves it.

He leaned down and kissed your forehead. “Forever.” He whispered and you didn’t react, just held the baby closer to you.

PRESENT DAY

After graduating and everything Aiku had also gotten big in the soccer world but that didn’t surprise you one bit he was an amazing soccer player he even started teaching your daughter how to play once she learned how to walk.

But nowadays your relationship with Oliver has been rocky, a lot of arguments about him doing shit he knows he’s not supposed to be doing. Last night the screaming match pushed you to your limits.

“So how is your relationship with ‘your future wife’?” The interviewer said quoting what Oliver had said about you in a past interview.

He tilted his head a little. “Everything is perfect, I wouldn't ask for anything more.” “That’s nice to hear, what about your daughter? Sources say you’ve been teaching her soccer since she started walking?” The interviewer laughed causing Aiku to let out a small chuckle too. “Yeah she’s two now and what can I say she’s doing better than some of these big soccer players.” He joked letting out a small chuckle.

“MOMMY!” Your daughter yelled marching into your room while you were packing your bags because of the fight. “Daddy’s on tv.” She said as you forced a smile on your face “That’s nice baby.” You said now facing the girl that stood at your doorway. “Where are we going?” She tilted her head similar to the way her dad tilted his head.

He made it so it looked like you were the perfect family on the internet and that pissed you off so much. “Nowhere..” You say now looking at the halfway packed suitcase with yours and your daughter’s clothes in it.

This was stupid you were overexaggerating, you were about to pack your stuff and leave over a petty fight. But you were sick of being in love with someone who didn’t care if he burned you out in the process of becoming everything he dreamed of.

You started at the clock on your nightstand as it displayed the time 2:53. The room was dark except for the glow from your daughter's baby monitor. “Everything is perfect, I wouldn't ask for anything more.” You stared blankly at your phone. No new messages, no phone calls, no updates. This wasn’t the first time this has happened. He'd come in tomorrow and say ‘I was out with the boys’ or some corny shit like that as an excuse.

Your fingers hovered over his name in your contacts. You didn’t call. The front door never opened.

The front door opened at 8am, the sun shining through the windows of the kitchen shining on the marble floor as you made you and your daughter some breakfast. He walked in like nothing was wrong. Like he hadn’t left you alone all night. His hair was a little messy, hoodie half-zipped, and he didn’t even bother taking off his shoes.

“Good morning.” He said, wrapping his arms around your waist as you shoved him off of you. He moved back and looked at you, raising a brow. “What? Are you mad?” You stared at him for a second, then let out a soft, humorless laugh.

“Where were you?” “I told you I was with the guys.” He leaned against the counter, eyes scanning your face. ��You don’t trust me anymore?” You let the spatula clatter into the sink. “You’re not someone worth trusting anymore, Oliver.” You say as your daughter walks her way into the kitchen “C’mon don’t start your shit.” You turned your whole body facing him “I’m tired of you making it seem like I’m the crazy one when I react to your bullshit.” You said eyes are sharp.

He didn’t say anything, just stared at you before walking up to you grabbing your hands before you pushed him away causing him to lose a grip on your hands. “If you wanna play single, go ahead. But don’t pretend we’re some perfect little family for the cameras.” You shouted at him before you heard a sniffle from the kitchen table causing you to look over at the young girl that had tears in her eyes.

He didn’t say anything. Just stared at you as you went to pick up the 2 year old, jaw tight, like you were a problem he didn’t know how to solve. And the worst part? You knew he’d probably do it again. And you hated how a part of you still wanted him anyway.

After the small fight you went on with your day ignoring Oliver for the rest of the day but letting your daughter spend some time with her dad since he’s barely there due to ‘games’.

You watched as he showed her how to dribble the soccer ball praying he didn’t see the smile that appeared on your face. But you couldn’t lie, moments like this made you happy. You wished it was always like this.

Soon the sky turned dark as Oliver wrapped up the small soccer game he and his daughter were playing where he let the little girl score on him the whole time. You stepped outside “I’ll go give her a bath, could you order something.” You say picking up the girl entering the house.

Steam fogged up the mirror as the water splashed softly around your daughter. You were kneeling beside the tub, gently rinsing the shampoo from her hair, lost in your own thoughts “Do you hate Daddy?” She asked so innocently which made your heart ache “why would you ask that?” She shrugged her shoulders “Because you’re always mad at him. And Daddy said you don’t love him anymore.” You bit the inside of your cheek staring at the little girl who deserved a loving home where both parents are happy and there for her and most of all love each other.

She blinked up at you “So you still love daddy?” She asked as you bit harder, feeling the taste of blood in your mouth now. “Yeah I do now let’s finish your bath.” You are telling her the truth.

After eating dinner you put your daughter to bed because being outside wore her out. “We’re not done Y/n.” He said leaning against the doorframe, you didn’t respond but your back facing him but your hands clinched the bed sheets. “Alright let’s end it then. One way or another.” You whipped your head toward him “You’re a fucking mess.” “Then maybe we’re meant for each other.” He responded to you. Before you could say another word, his lips crashed into yours. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t romantic. It was a collision of frustration, anger, and desperate need. He backed you into the wall, your breath heavy, the fight still fresh in the air. His hands were on your hips, pulling you in closer as if he was trying to suffocate the tension between you both with passion.

He kissed you deeper, pulling at your clothes, and you didn’t even have the strength to stop him. You just wanted to feel something, anything but the crushing weight of the mess you’d both created. The sex was rough. A blur of tangled limbs, harsh words, and tangled emotions. But it was also familiar. Comforting, in a sick way. You let him inside you, let him have control, because you didn’t know how to control him, or yourself.

Oliver didn’t pull out.

You thought nothing of it but he had this whole thing figured out, he felt you slipping away so he had to do something about it.

INT. PLANNED PARENTHOOD - NOON

You had just done a blood test a week ago. Now you were sitting on the table waiting for your doctor that told you about your first pregnancy to come back to the room. You bit your nails nervously more nervous than you were 2 years ago maybe because you had Oliver with you back then. Tears started to form in your eyes again similar to the first time but this time you didn’t have anyone to hold you and tell you it was alright and that you’d get through this together.

“Please, Please, Please.” You said trying to calm yourself down only as your hands started to shake your mind going to the worst possible things ever. ‘What if Oliver leaves you this time.’ Or ‘You can’t even handle one kid, you're just 19 you’re still learning and growing yourself how could you take care of two kids.’ You held yourself firmly and soon after the doctor entered the room with an envelope in his hand.

“Here you go.” He said handing the envelope over to you, you opened the envelope reading through the basic stuff like thanks for your patience and stuff then saw the results in big bold words. YOU ARE PREGNANT🎉.

Your whole world seemed to crash down on you, your hands started to shake and the doctor gave you a worried expression. “Do you need me to call someone?” He said looking down at his clipboard “I could call your mom.” You shoot your eyes towards him “What no! She died three years ago.” You said tears in your eyes while stumbling over words “Well I’ll call Aiku Oliver he’s the second person on emergency contact.” The doctor said keeping his composure so you wouldn’t freak out even more.

“No please.” “I have to, I can't let you behind the wheel when you’re obviously not doing well ma’am.” He said picking up the phone dialing the number that was on the paper. He spoke with Oliver telling him to come pick you up but he never told him why you were there but Aiku was smart he knew exactly why you were there.

It took him less than fifteen minutes to get there which scared you when he slammed the door open revealing him and your daughter on his hip. “What happened?” He said, faking the worried expression as the doctor handed him the paper you had read off earlier as his eyes read through it he finally got to the end of the paper and his eyes went wide as if he was surprised.

He put down your daughter and looked at you with an excited look as he walked up to you pulling you into a hug, a tight one like if he let you go you’d disappear. “C’mon let’s go I’ll get someone to come get your car.” He said helping you off the table as your two year old just looked at the two of you confused as the three of you walked out of the building.

“You did this on purpose.” You said putting your seatbelt on as he turned to look at you “I have no idea what you’re talking about L/n.” He said pulling out of the parking lot while your daughter started babbling about any and everything.

INT. HOSPITAL - LABOR ROOM - NOON

The last nine months have been HELL on earth for Oliver. You made every single day hell for him even for the slightest thing but he put up with it because he loved you. Surprisingly he even woke up late at night for you driving hours on end for some weird fruit that you randomly started to crave.

But then the day finally came you were about to yell at him to go get you some weird shaped pizza but then you felt the warm liquid run down your leg as Aiku went into panic just like last time and rushed you to the hospital making a quick stop at his moms house dropping off his daughter before speeding to the hospital.

“PUSH ON IT ASSHOLE BEFORE I PUSH THIS BABY OUT ON YOUR CAR FLOOR.” You yelled and you weren’t lying you had already started to push which horrified him as he started to go over 100.

Now you were back in a similar hospital bed holding onto Oliver’s hand as he looked at you with admiration “You got it baby, I’m not leaving ever.” He said as a smile spread across your lips because you knew he wasn’t lying.

“I know Oliver.” You said while pushing as he gave you a reassuring smile. As twisted as your relationship was, the two of you still loved each other no matter how much the two of you tried to convince each other you didn’t.

“OHMYGOD GET IT OUT!” You yelled at the nurse as one of them laughed at you as you paused and looked at him “Did you just laugh.” You looked down at him as he looked scared for a second as Oliver laughed and you turned towards him as his facial expression went neutral.

Then you felt the urge to push and you did as the doctors panicked “NO, NO, NO, NO!” One of the nurses said trying to get you to stop pushing but you kept on as the baby’s head started to come out then a few more pushes the baby was finally out. “It’s a boy! Congratulations mom and dad.” The male nurse said laying the baby on top of you.

“Holy fuck he looks exactly like you.” You said looking at the crying baby who opened his eyes showing his Heterochromia eyes leaving Oliver shocked looking at his baby. You definitely weren't leaving him now.

FOUR MONTHS LATER

Yeah you just had a baby literally identical to Oliver and you thought maybe that would be enough to stop doing the stupid shit he was doing but no it was like a cycle that you wanted to break.

But if you couldn’t break it you would just leave him.

“Mommyyyy.” Your oldest daughter let out looking like she was ready to fall out. “Yes?” You said fixing the end of your dress. “I don’t wanna go to gammy house.” She complained falling out on the floor as you lifted her up dusting off her pants.

She had gotten used to being around you all the time so when it was time for her to go to someone else’s house or anything of that sort she wanted to fall out. The baby on the other hand, he was quiet most of the time unless you didn't feed him when he wanted then you’d have a huge problem.

“I’m going out, you're just going to be with gammy for a few hours.” You said kneeling down to the girl's height she pouted but nodded her head. “Now go put on your shoes, we gotta go now and put an extra baby bottle in your brother's baby bag.” You said walking into your room picking up your bag and grabbing your keys.

Oliver’s mom's house wasn’t too far away from your house so that was a quick and easy drive now you were on your way to the restaurant that the guy you met suggested. One part of you felt happy about it because he knew about your past and your two kids but still stayed. But another part of you felt guilty because you knew you still had love for Oliver, a toxic type of love, a type of love that nobody else could give you.

Pulling into the restaurant's parking lot you felt a shiver down your spine but you still stepped out of the car and entered the restaurant. The guy you were meeting was also just entering the restaurant and gave the hostess the name and time and the hostess let the two of you enter and seat the two of you also.

“You look beautiful.” He said as a smile appeared on your face “Thank you.” Was the only thing you could say as you picked up the menu and started flipping through it “You have two kids right, how old are you?” You paused and looked at him while smiling “Yeah I’m nineteen turning twenty soon.” You said with smile not leaving your face because you refused to be ashamed of your own mistakes.

“Must be hard, is the dad still around?” “Yeah he loves them.” You said no lie detected before his face went straight “Does he still love you?” “No but at one point I wished he did.” You said looking back down at the menu.

Now the rest of the date was going well. He even got closer to you and you had the bright idea to take a quick boomerang on your phone. Your drink in one hand, his hand in full view on your leg. You post it to your story with nothing but a heart emoji. You knew exactly what you were doing.

INT. SOCCER STADIUM – LOCKER ROOM – NIGHT

Oliver's lacing up his cleats, phone in hand when the notification lights up his screen. He clicks, pauses, he stares at the image for too long. Too quiet. The locker room is loud, but his brain isn’t registering a word anyone’s saying.

“Yo, you good?” Niko asked, looking at the obviously upset Oliver. Oliver’s jaw ticks “Yeah I’m good.”.

He’s not, not when he’s walking out onto the field during warm-ups thinking about how some guy had his hand on you, his future wife, the mother of his kids. Thinking about what you were doing when he wasn’t there.

A sigh left your lips as you walked through the front door heels in hand before you heard the front door slam shut like in the movies.

You looked behind you to see a very upset Oliver. “You left my fucking kids at my mom house to go out with a fucking man, Y/n are you fucking kidding me.” You just blinked at him then tilted your head. “Like you don’t leave me with them for days on end while you go out and cheat on me.” You said as softly as he scoffed at you before walking into the living room as you followed behind him.

“You wanna act like me so bad, huh?” You looked at him with disbelief “No, I wanna remind you that I could be you if I wanted to.” You said as he started walking towards you.

“I cheated on you, you know this you’ve always known this and you got your get back. I won’t do it again, do you trust me?” You let out an unpleasant laugh in his face “THE FUCK?!” You said rolling your eyes at the audacity this man had.

“You’re fucking insane Oliver I’ve been wanting to leave your crazy ass for the longest you know?” You pointed at his face and shoved him away from you but he walked back up to you again.

“You’re not going anywhere.” He said grabbing your face pulling you closer to him “You have two kids with me, you’re stuck with me baby.” His hand now moved down to your waist. “Get the fuck away from me.” You screamed at him pushing him back off of you before you walked back towards the front door and slid on a pair of crocs.

“Where the fuck are you going?” He was irritated at your actions “To get my kids and getting away from you.” You said, meaning every word you just said. “You’ll be back and you know it, you'll think you need someone else but really you just need me.” He said as you scoffed and walked out the door slamming it in his face.

After picking up your kids you started to drive with no destination in mind till you realized you were on your way back to your old house. It was only an hour away so you continued to drive silently the whole time. The road stretches endlessly in front of you, headlights cutting through the dark. Your daughter is fast asleep in the back seat, curled against the window with her blanket bunched under her cheek. The baby’s quiet, occasionally letting out soft breaths that remind you he’s still there, still yours, still needing you.

But even with the breathing of both of your kids your thoughts went back to Oliver. Every argument, every apology, every kiss that tastes like a trap, every time you swore it was the last time, and yet you stayed, your grip on the steering wheel tightens every time his voice echoes in your head.

By the time you pull into your dad’s driveway, the sky’s started to bruise purple. The sun is barely rising, casting an orange glow over the porch. You sit in the car for a minute, hands shaking slightly as you look at your reflection in the rearview mirror. Eyes swollen, face bare, exhausted, you knock softly, once, twice.

When the door opens, your father doesn’t say anything at first. He just looks at you then your baby’s then back at you then let out a tired sigh as he steps forward and pulls you into a hug like he used to when you were little. You melt into it. The baby stirs in the car seat, your daughter still fast asleep in your arms. “Come inside,” he says quietly. “I’ll set up the guest room.”

You stay there for a week.

No posts, no texts, no calls answered, Not even his. The days are slow and quiet. Your dad makes pancakes every morning. You sit on the porch with your baby and let your daughter chase butterflies in the backyard. You cry once, in the shower because that’s the only place they won’t see you fall apart.

EXT. STADIUM – EVENING

It’s game day, the stadium is buzzing, stadium lights burning like suns overhead, music blares through the speakers, the announcers talk fast, hyped voices bouncing off every wall

“Aiku’s back on the field tonight fresh off a messy breakup. Will heartbreak affect the game or fuel it?” The crowd gets louder at the mention of his name. Section signs wave in the air, girls scream, cameras flash.

Oliver Aiku jogs across the field for warm-ups, sweat already glistening across his brow, his hair down, calm, confident. That same smug smirk on his lips. He dribbles the ball like nothing’s wrong, like his whole life isn’t unraveling in slow motion behind his eyes. He hears his name chanted “Aiku! Aiku!” but it’s all static to him, white noise, Like always.

Until he stops mid-jog, head snapping toward the front row, like something just shifted.

Section C.

His eyes narrow. Through the barricade of fans and flashing cameras, you’re standing, front row, lips glossed, wearing his jersey, his name and number on your back the same as the other two kids like a brand. Your baby boy is nestled against your hip, wide eyes blinking at the lights. And your daughter clapping like she knows every cheer in the book, swinging her legs like she owns the world.

And maybe she does, because you showed up, her mommy, his weakness.

Two days ago, Oliver looked right into a reporter’s lens and said, “We’re done. I’m just focused on my career and my kids.” And now she’s here, looking like everything he's ever lost and everything he still wants, like every sin he’s ever committed.

Oliver’s teammates are calling for him, The coach is signaling. The whistle blows, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, doesn’t breathe, because you’re here. Like you always were. Like he always prayed you’d be. Suddenly the crowd vanishes, the lights dull, the field blurs.

All he sees is you, all he hears is the memory of your voice in the dark. The slam of the door, the silence that followed. Because no matter who he’s sleeping with, no matter how many goals he scores, how much fame he earns, or how far you run.

You’re the only one who’s ever owned his soul, and you’ll always come back.

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starleska · 8 days ago

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a PSA for anyone who is confused by the panic over the UK heatwaves! ☀️

the UK has an amber warning declared for a heatwave this weekend, where temperatures will reach above 30C (86F). to many, especially Americans, this doesn't seem like a notable temperature, and i've seen many ignorant posts mocking UK residents who are worried about how they and their loved ones will be affected by the temperatures. i'd like to explain why heatwaves in the UK are different than other parts of the world, and why they cause such a panic: 🔥 because we are an island nation, our heat isn't dry: it's horrendously humid. high humidity means that your lungs need to work harder to breathe, and it's much harder for your sweat to evaporate in the air. sweating is how your body regulates its temperature, and you sweat more in humid environments. when sweat doesn't evaporate it remains on the skin, leaving you feeling hot, sticky, and ill. 🔥 our homes and buildings are built to retain heat. because the UK is so cold and rainy for the vast majority of the year, our homes are supposed to trap heat, not let it out. not only are our homes smaller on average, but between double glazing, cavity wall insulation and loft insulation, when heat hits a British home, it causes a greenhouse effect. heat just sits in our homes, and it doesn't dissipate at night, meaning we are unable to sleep. 🔥 we have no air conditioning. i have never been in a home with air-con, and very few public buildings have it (except some shops). because of the aforementioned cold, rainy conditions that affect the UK for the vast majority of the year, air-con has never received a significant roll-out here. this means that we have little to no relief from being inside buildings besides being in the shade, and few homes even have fans. 🔥 our city centres are packed and highly urbanised, which causes heat traps. because our streets and homes are often stacked tightly together, including rows of houses/buildings/etc., heat in densely packed areas has nowhere to go, and will simply sit. trying to walk through a city during a heatwave will leave you sweating and exhausted in minutes. likewise, there are limited spaces to go to cool off during these temperatures: people will literally go to the shops to stand in the fridge/freezer aisles. 🔥 our infrastructure is not built to cope with heat. during heatwaves, our tarmac melts. the rails which hold our trains bend and warp. our grass catches fire. a few years ago, airport runways cracked and lifted in the heat, halting flights. the UK is brought to a standstill during high temperatures because our cities and towns are built for colder, wetter temperatures. add in the 16 hours of daylight we get during the summer, and you have a recipe for disaster. 🔥 the hottest temperature ever recorded in the UK is 40C (104F). this was in England, and in other UK countries, it's even lower: in Wales, it was 37.1C (98.78F); in Scotland, it was 34.8C (94.64F), and in Northern Ireland, it was 31.3C (88.3F). because these are our highest temperatures, many of us are unused to the symptoms which signify heat exhaustion or heat stroke. i need to emphasise: people die during heatwaves. i highly encourage people to read about the 2022 UK heatwaves, which saw the deaths of nearly 3000 people (many of whom were elderly). we could do nothing but hunker down and survive the heat during this time, and it was especially dreadful for anyone who is older, disabled, and/or neurodivergent. so while 30C is not unheard of in the UK, any heatwave poses significant risks, including illness, disruption to transport, wildfires, and even death. thanks for reading, and to everyone from outside the UK who's provided useful advice on keeping cool! i'm sure we'll be alright, but i'm hoping folks won't parrot misinformation about us just 'not being able to cope with the heat' 💔

#the 2022 heatwaves were insane. i don't think i moved for days #unfortunately this 'lmao look at these idiots who can't cope with heat' sentiment is one i've often seen expressed by Americans #who take their air-con and large airy homes and dry heat for granted and assume the rest of the world functions exactly like America #i remember being trapped inside and seeing that mockery on social media in 2022 while reports came in of all the deaths. it was dreadful #so yeah be kind to anyone you know living in the UK right now we're going to have a fun weekend 🙃#(signed an autistic migraine-haver whose temperature regulation is god awful at the best of times)#heatwaves #british heatwaves #british heatwaves 2022 #climate #climate change #uk #starleskatalks #long post #tw: death #tw: illness

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laughhardrunfastbekindsblog · 11 months ago

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Just thinking about Howzer saying "I will not abandon my squad. They are good men. I have to try to get through to them."

Just thinking about how deep this must have hit Hunter for him to stop and hesitate, looking back at Howzer -

- and then Hunter does leave with his squad, but I also think he senses Crosshair's attention being on them as he turns back to look -

- and I just keep thinking about how conflicted Hunter must have been all season long, but I imagine the inner conflict reaches a peak here.

Because he is abandoning a member of his squad. He hasn't been able to get through to Crosshair - granted, the last time they met wasn't exactly conducive to deep conversation anyway, but Crosshair, the brother Hunter remembers, was a good man.

And yet... Hunter has to look out for the other four members of his squad, too. He can't abandon them, either. As he told Omega earlier, "Being strategic means knowing your limitations." And he can't risk everyone else, all the other good people on his squad, in a mad attempt to blast through endless Imperial resources and kidnap an angry brother who has given precious little indication that he wants to return to the squad anyway.

I do think Hunter is angry at himself, and at Crosshair; but mostly I think he is hurt, and confused, and uncertain, and trying to weigh the risks and figure out how best to protect the family - including Crosshair.

And I think Hunter spends a lot of time up until Crosshair returns trying to figure out how he could have gotten through to him.

And it just breaks my heart 💔

#the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #tbb hunter #tbb crosshair #tbb analysis #hunter carries such a heavy burden as the leader #and he does an admirable job #but i don't think he realizes it

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spr1ngpvrinbwunnie · 4 months ago

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Steve Raglan (or rather, this version of William Afton) isn’t the type to lose his temper easily, but if there’s one person he will go to extreme lengths to control himself for, it’s you.

🖤 1. His Patience is a Gift—Only for You

With everyone else, he has zero patience for stupidity, incompetence, or people who waste his time. He will cut them off with a dry remark, a pointed look, or, if he's in a particularly bad mood, an icy, condescending smile that feels sharper than a knife.

But with you? Oh, that’s different.

If anyone else pushed his buttons, he wouldn’t hesitate to put them in their place. But if you do it? He exhales slowly, rubs his temple, maybe pinches the bridge of his nose, but he does not snap. Instead, he breathes through it and calmly, dangerously says: "You’re testing me, love."

He means it, but not as a threat—he's simply reminding himself of just how much he lets you get away with.

😤 2. He Won’t Yell at You—Even If He’s Furious

If he's truly, deeply angry, his voice won’t rise. In fact, it will get quieter.

He might go completely silent for a moment, processing, controlling himself, maybe flexing his fingers like he’s forcing himself not to grip something too tightly.

The most he might do is exhale through his nose, slow and controlled, before saying something like: "You know, if you were anyone else, they wouldn’t be standing right now." (He doesn’t mean it literally... probably.)

But no matter how upset he gets, he will never shout at you. It’s the one line he refuses to cross.

🖤 3. Violence? Never. Not Against You.

Steve can be violent. He has been violent. But with you?

He won’t so much as grab your wrist too hard.

He won’t even throw something in anger if you’re in the room.

If he’s that mad, he will leave the room first before doing anything reckless.

His self-control is frighteningly strong, but only because he would never forgive himself if he ever hurt you.

If you flinch around him—even unintentionally—it will wreck him inside.

"Do you really think I’d hurt you?" His voice is quiet, not angry, but... something else.

He’d rather let you scream at him, hit him, break something—anything—before he ever lifts a hand against you.

So it will like this:

🖤 4. He Indulges You More Than He Should

You have far too much power over him, and he knows it.

You want to annoy him? He'll roll his eyes and tolerate it.

You want affection? He might sigh dramatically, but he will let you climb into his arms.

You push him too far? He’ll grit his teeth, clench his jaw, and let it slide—because it’s you.

The only time he might push back is if he thinks you’re being reckless or putting yourself in danger. That’s when he’ll draw the line and tell you, "You can do whatever you want to me, but I won’t let you be careless with yourself."

🖤 5. The Rare Moments When He Actually Loses It

The only times he might come close to snapping is if:

You intentionally push him past his limits.

You put yourself in danger (this is the real trigger).

You say something that genuinely hurts him (whether you meant to or not).

And even then, he won’t lash out—he’ll just go eerily quiet. He might look at you with an expression that makes your stomach drop, like you just did something irreversible.

He won’t yell. He won’t insult you. But he will turn away, run a hand down his face, and say something like: "I need a minute."

If it’s bad enough, he’ll disappear for a while—maybe an hour, maybe a day—because he refuses to say something he’ll regret.

💔 6. If He Ever Makes You Cry? It Would Kill Him.

If he ever, even accidentally, made you cry? He’d shut down completely.

He wouldn’t know what to do at first—because he never wanted to be the reason for your pain.

If you walked away, he’d just stand there, hands at his sides, jaw clenched, hating himself.

If you let him get close, he’d hesitate before touching you, like he’s afraid he doesn’t deserve to.

He’d murmur, "I’m sorry." And when he says it, he means it. Fully, completely, painfully.

🖤 Final Thought: You Are His One Exception

Steve is cold, calculating, and impatient with the world.

But you?

You are the one person he will never raise his voice at.

The one person he will never lay a hand on in anger.

The one person he would burn the world down for before he’d ever hurt.

And he knows it. Which is why, no matter how frustrated, angry, or even furious he gets, he will always, always take a deep breath, close his eyes, and remind himself: "They are worth it."

#william afton #william afton x reader #fnaf #fnaf movie #steve raglan x reader #steve raglan #fnaf x reader #william afton headcanon #╰₊✧ ﾟ⚬𓂂➢💜✧*̥˚ 🐇 𝓐ℱ𝑇𝓞𝓝 🎭 *̥˚✧ 🔪#‹꒰ 🇶🇺🇾🇪🇳'🇸 🇼🇷🇮🇹🇮🇳🇬.꒱𖥔 ࣪~#five night at freddy's #fnaf william afton #fnaf movie x reader #william afton x you #william afton x self insert #steve raglan fnaf #purple guy #steve raglan x you

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vettelsdarling · 2 years ago

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Hiiii can I get a request for Lando basically a sunshine x grumpy where the reader is a new driver that wants 0 distractions and ruled out dating any drivers and so she gets along with everyone but is more distant with Lando because she knows if they get close she’ll fall in love with him but she can’t afford any distractions but he still puts in effort to get to know her and making her smile etc despite her pushing him away and they have this moment and idk you can finish it however you like plsss and thanks!

𝐈𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦

Lissie note… Hey there! This is a really cute idea, I love the thought of Lando pining!! Thank you for the creative freedom to finish it off however I feel!

Things to note:

This is set in the 2022 season, but not in the same timeline(?) you'll see

Reader isn’t completely new to Formula One, but it’s her first time on the grid as a driver (she’s been a reserve driver)

Reader is a few months/a year younger than Lando

Reader is a Red Bull driver

Pairing: Sunshine!Pining!Lando x Grumpy!Serious!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Some cursing, Pretty angsty, J*s Verstappen

Word Count: 6.5k+

Recommended playlists: 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭💔, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟💗, 𝐋𝐍𝟒

Formula One. A bloodsport, really. Vicious and dangerous. Somehow you’d managed to rise through the ranks and get there. Even earning a place next to Max Verstappen, the second-youngest world champion. Christian Horner, your team boss, was the kind of person who nursed his drivers as if they were his own children. You yearned for the proud look on his face. Not just for him, but for yourself.

Growing up in a middle-class family, you weren’t as privileged as other kids in karting. Your mother worked tirelessly to support you, whilst your father took you to each race. Now that you’d finally made it to Formula One, you wanted to do everything you could to pay them back. They had given the better part of their lives up so that you could live yours the way you desired.

Winning a championship in Formula One had always been a childhood dream of yours.

… and you were not about to give up on that dream anytime soon.

You, Max, and Horner had come to an agreement: Max would help you win as much as possible. Nobody and absolutely nobody was to get in your way. Max promised to make sure of that. Since you were younger than him, he treated you like a younger sister, whilst still treating you as an equal. Given the fact that he had a sister, he was great at it.

You were in your car. It was the first qualifying of the season, and you felt all of your nerves tense up. It was your first ever feel for Formula One besides sim racing. You’d been stuck as a reserve driver for nearly 2 years— safe to say, you were relieved to finally get a seat. Max and Lewis had just been dominating too much. However, this year was yours and yours alone. You were determined to shine, and you would take down anyone who so much as breathed a hint of threat your way.

You were released and you started your out lap. The tyres felt smooth and the car was completely in sync with you. It was nothing like sim racing, and nothing like Formula 2 either. You’d done practice runs several times before, but there was something about the real deal that elevated the experience that much more. You knew there was a lot of pressure on you for qualifying. Mainly due to the fact that Max had no way of helping you. It was every man for himself, and there was no way you were going to get kicked in Q1.

“You doing alright?” You heard your engineer say. It made you get distracted, and you accidentally exceeded track limits.

“Well, now I’m not! Shut it, please.” Well, shit. You knew that blunder would be noted immediately. It was surely a deletion of your time. Therefore, you decided to push. Hard.

The next lap was a go, and you worked your way meticulously around every corner, hitting every apex just right. You were determined to make it into Q3. No matter what it took.

You got one final time in, and it was announced by your radio that you made it into Q2, placing P5. You weren’t the type to scream out with joy, so you merely thanked them for the notice.

Q2 began, and you barely made it through to Q3, placing P10.

What nobody expected was your spirit. If you wanted something, you were going to get it.

“Okay, we’ve notified Max that he should try to slow down a bit, to possibly get you a pole position. This way, we can also help you from behind in the race.”

“Copy.” Your chest felt ticklish with adrenaline, and you pushed harder than before. You did everything you could. Your body felt as if it had been fused to the car. You were getting the fastest sector time left and right. It was exhilarating.

“That’s a pole! Great job! We did it!” Your engineer screamed into your ear with excitement. It was deafening, but that didn’t matter. It felt so good.

“Thanks for the help, guys.”

The front row consisted of you, Max, and Lando Norris; a driver from McLaren. You hadn’t really conversed with him much before. Except one time. Max had invited you to attend the end-of-year party a year back. Lando barely managed to introduce himself before he was interrupted by the Dutchman.

After Lando finished his interview, he moved back to where you were waiting patiently for your turn.

“I hear you’re into brunettes?” You were, but you hadn’t told anyone. Which could only have meant that it was his go-to pick-up line. Lame, if anything.

“Did you also hear I’m into guys who don’t bother me?” It wasn’t a matter of teasing him or playing hard to get. You simply had no time for something as frivolous as dating on the grid. It was pointless and would only serve as a distraction when you had to stay focused.

“Cute.” It almost felt repulsive to hear him say that. You’d never really been in a relationship other than the many situation-ships you’d allowed yourself to fall victim to in your Formula 2 days.

When your turn finally came, you shook David’s hand with a smile. Adrenaline was still making its rounds throughout your system.

“You did an amazing job today, surely you must be excited!” David was such a gentle and warm soul, so you decided to lay off the colder side for a little.

“I feel amazing, really, I’m over the moon!” You grinned. He asked you some generic questions and you gave him appropriate responses for each.

“You’re the first woman in a long time to have raced in Formula One, you should be proud,” he finished off, before letting you go.

Max slung his arm over your shoulder as the two of you walked back to the Red Bull motorhome. Christian greeted you at the door on his way out, pulling you into a big bear hug and thanking Max for the sacrifice. The two of you made yourselves comfortable on the leather couches in front of the small flatscreen that was inside.

“Max, I really hope it’s okay for you to do all of this for me…” You looked over at Max who was scrolling through the channels.

“Of course, I’ll do it for you. We’re teammates. Besides, it would’ve been wrong if you weren’t talented and couldn’t actually take me on… but you can… so…” He started trailing off as he got a phone call. It seemed to be his father, so he immediately answered it. Of all feelings, you were definitely not surprised by the angry bickering coming from his father through the phone. The look on Max’s face was all but whipped with joy.

When the call ended, you tried to find the right words to comfort him. It was rather hard though, as you’d never really experienced his situation before.

“… I’m here if you want to talk about it?” That was really all you could offer. But your support meant everything to Max, who had made quite the impression on track. Fans saw him as a hot-headed brute, with nothing on his mind but winning.

“It’s okay. It wasn’t anything. Don’t worry about it.” His demeanour had completed a full 360°.

“Well, in any case, if you ever happen to need someone… you know I’ll always be right here.” Without warning, you pulled your brother figure into a warm hug, rubbing his back gently. You’d only ever met his dad a couple of times, but both times were horrible. The man was stone cold. He was intimidating to you.

To celebrate your pole in qualifying, Max had invited you out for dinner with a couple of friends. He said you knew who they were, but still, you felt off about it.

Your hair cascaded down upon your shoulders, masking your exposed collarbone from your little black dress. It was a simple dinner dress you’d brought along for the trip. Your makeup was light but accentuated your features to the fullest extent. Your shoes were designer and matched your padded Prada mini-bag. You threw on a black blazer to complete the look. Flawless.

Max had texted you the address of the restaurant along with the time. You jumped in a cab and gave the driver the information. The cab driver was chatty. He talked about his family, mentioning the fact that he had twin daughters who had just started middle school. You zoned out on the rest of his chatter though. The thoughts of dining with Max’s friends felt daunting somehow.

When you finally arrived, you were already late. You’d been too busy zoning out to notify your teammate. Upon walking in, you saw a fancy vined wall with several pictures of celebrities who’d visited the establishment. Amongst them was a picture of Max and the Brit who’d tried to hit on you. Lando Norris. A waiter approached you with a polite smile and a guest list.

“Oh, um… Max Verstappen?” You also made sure to mention your name so as to not stir any confusion or suspicions. You could’ve easily been mistaken for a fan.

“Right this way, miss.” He led you to a quiet room in the back. It was likely reserved for the restaurant’s VIPs. There you laid eyes on Max and Daniel Ricciardo… but Lando Norris too?! A wave of relief washed over you, as you realized you knew them somewhat.

“Max, you didn’t tell me she would be here?” Lando took the view in with delight, smirking as you noticed it. You rolled your eyes and took a seat beside Max. Unfortunately, that seat was across from curly-haired Brit.

“It was a surprise. We’re actually celebrating her first pole today.” You felt slightly embarrassed, almost like people singing you birthday songs.

“Max, isn’t this just rubbing another Red Bull win in our faces?” Asked Daniel. He was obviously joking, so you shot him a playful glare, chuckling shortly after.

After a while, Daniel and Max had gotten deep into their conversation, which left you to deal with Lando. He’d stolen several glances of you throughout the dinner and it didn’t seem like he was planning to stop. You took it as your opportunity to strike up some small talk. All in hopes to get him to stop staring.

“You should stop staring, my image might get burned into your retina.” He didn’t even bother blinking. His eyes moved from your figure to your eyes.

“I think that’d be a blessing, no?” You scoffed at his reply. You saw it as nothing but a foolish attempt at flirtation— which you didn’t appreciate. Sure, you were off-track, but that didn’t mean you had time for meaningless distractions. Lando gave off a clear vibe that he was nothing but a hindrance to your ultimate goal of becoming a champion.

“You’re playing hard to get. I like that,” he smirked and slightly leaned back in his seat.

“Could you be any more obnoxious?”

“If that’s what you want me to be.” He was truly impossible to communicate with. Every sentence was a pick-up line to some degree.

“I’m not interested in you, Norris.” He seemed to completely disregard the message you sent, as a smile grew on his face the moment you uttered his last name.

“Glad to know you know my name, Miss Red Bull.” Admittedly, he was pretty easy on the eyes, and his small chuckles were cuter than you wanted to acknowledge.

“You should let me take you home after this.”

“You don’t even know me.” Contrary to your belief, that wasn’t true at all. He knew exactly who you were. He and Max were close friends after all. But the real kicker was; he’d been into you for much longer than he led on.

His infatuation first started in the early stages of the 2021 season, when he’d see you wandering around the tracks on weekdays. He’d seen you in the Red Bull garages, usually deep in conversation with one of the engineers. He’d asked about you from multiple people. That included the big man himself; Christian Horner. Though, Christian encouraged him to stop asking around and just strike up a conversation with you. However, Lando never actually found the time to approach you. You were always surrounded by mechanics and the media. It was simply impossible to get to you. It was almost like you were a national treasure. Pretty to look at, but that was all he could do.

“Trust me, I know you.” For a moment, you got lost in those dashing eyes of his. He returned your gaze, only looking into what would be considered the windows to your soul. Could he read you? Could he understand that you didn’t want him? Did you want him?

“You’re incredible up close.”

“Excuse me?” You snapped out of whatever trance you’d been stuck in as soon as those words left his pouty lips. That statement was creepy if anything, and not flattering in the slightest… or was it?

“That’s a pretty off-putting thing to say, you know?” This luckily caught the attention of Max who’d finished off with Daniel. The two of them turned their heads your way to join in.

“What’s off-putting?”

“Oh, we were just talking about how obsessed Lando is with me.” You said it in a joking manner, but everyone’s faces went semi-pale. Especially Lando’s.

“So he finally talked to you? I’m glad I don’t have to answer any more of his idiotic questions.” Your mouth went dry at his words, and Lando’s face turned a rose colour. As if all air conditioning had been turned off on a hot summer’s day.

“Excuse me?” You’d lost your appetite, making your curiosity the only reason you had to stay. That and your appreciation for Max having paid for the dinner that was supposed to serve as a celebration.

“I- um…” Lando was reasonably hesitant to say anything.

“Well… I was just referring to his constant flirting. I didn’t believe it was deep or anything but… um… you know what? This was nice, Max. Truly. I think I’d like to get home. I’m absolutely drained.” You sighed with a screwed smile on your lip. You gathered your things and pushed your chair in. Despite your friend’s heavy protests, you left and got a cab for yourself.

Leaving on an empty stomach hadn’t been the plan, so you had no choice but to stop by a grocery store. Many in the area had salads ready to go. It was no five-star meal, but it had to suffice.

Of course, you felt awful for leaving early, but you knew you couldn’t let yourself stray away from your goal. Lando was attractive, you couldn’t stand there and lie to yourself, but that was all the more reason to stay away. Well, besides the point that you barely knew the guy. The flirtatious comments and borderline creepy behaviour were nothing to you. It wasn’t anything you wouldn’t be able to ignore. As long as he stayed out of your way.

Except he didn’t.

The following morning, you had a couple of missed messages from Max. He’d been worried after you took off. You were too frazzled and in a hurry to respond. There was no time left before the briefing back at the motorhome. Being punctual meant that you showed an interest. It meant that you showed passion. You were not going to let some silly McLaren driver ruin it for you. That was simply not your style and would never be.

When you got there, everyone was already gathered. They’d been waiting for you to arrive. Honest, but embarrassing mistake. You wanted to let out a slew of self-insulting jabs. Lucky for you, it didn’t last too long, and you were on to start prepping for the race.

“Hey, are you okay?” A certain Dutchman tapped your shoulder and spun you around when you weren’t responsive. The look he saw in your eyes spoke volumes. Notes that you wish weren’t easily revealed. The eyes didn’t lie. They never did.

“I’m fine, I just really want to focus on winning. I don’t have time for whatever Lando is trying to drag me into.” You sighed as the two of you walked to the motorhome.

“Look, I know you haven’t known him for long, but maybe try to get along with him? You don’t have to accept his shitty flirting. He’s my best friend and so are you… it’s really awkward that you can’t even be around him.” True. You had acted somewhat irresponsibly, but you certainly weren’t the only guilty party in that.

“Fine, but under one condition. You tell him to stop being so flirtatious with me. I hate it.”

“Deal.”

The race ended with a lucky pole position. Somehow, you’d gotten away with defending yourself from none other than your little McLaren fan. As much as you enjoyed your national anthem being played and spraying champagne— you felt so empty. It felt like a worthless celebration. All because you knew you’d been underperforming. You hadn’t given it your all, yet Lando still kept behind you. Of course, with Max behind him, there was nothing for you to worry about. Both drivers were amazing when it came to defending their place, but you just couldn’t understand how he hadn’t gone for the win. It was right there. Right within reach. It was so close, his beautiful curved lips could touch it. It didn’t make sense to you, nobody would be stupid enough to sacrifice coming out on top. You didn’t believe it. You simply didn’t even want to.

Lando became unavoidable. As more races were won by you and some by Max, it was finally time for the summer break. 3 weeks of much-needed rest.

… what you thought would be a relaxing 3 weeks, turned out to be the most stressful weeks of your life.

Max had texted you on short notice to come over for dinner, as Kelly had made too big of a batch of gnocchi. Since you lived walking distance from him, you didn’t see any harm in coming over. Kelly wasn’t exactly your favourite person in the world, but it wasn’t like she was insufferable. She was still a nice person… somewhat.

Max greeted you at the door, having Penelope run up behind him to say hi. You might’ve not been the biggest fan of her mother, but she was such a cute little thing. You took her up into your arms and smiled,

“Hi there ‘P’!”

Your smile quickly faded though. The Brit from McLaren came into view from behind Max, and it was almost as if all of your spirits had been sucked out of you like the marrow of a bone. It was something of a consolation, however, that he stayed silent. He just stood there and watched as you played around with Penelope. The toddler was full of energy.

“Come come, the gnocchi is ready.” You put the girl down and followed them into the dining room. Kelly had plated everything and had taken the liberty to sit across from Max. You had no choice but to sit next to her. It wouldn’t exactly make sense for her to be sitting next to Lando.

“Kelly, I must say you are an amazing cook, this looks fantastic!” Fake it until you make it. In all honesty, though, she was a great cook.

“Thank you. I’ve been practicing lately.” It felt like deja vu when the couple got into talking. There was just you, Lando, and Penelope.

“I think I should apologize for… everything?” Lando suddenly spoke. You scanned his face, his hair, his outfit. Were you in trouble? Perhaps.

“You know what, Kelly? I think I’ll help tuck Penelope in!” You got up from your seat and politely put down your cutlery.

“Oh, sure. Thank you. It’s way past her bedtime.” She smiled at you and signalled for Penelope to come with you before she turned back to Max.

Lando had the guts to follow you into Penelope’s bedroom. He watched as you lifted the little girl up into your arms and placed her carefully on the duvets that covered her bed. She was already in her pyjamas, which made your job all the more easy. He took the chance to sit next to you on the bed, as you stroked the toddler’s cheek.

“Are you really going to avoid me forever?” He said in a quiet whisper, not wanting to disturb the girl from dozing off into the gentle night.

“You’re a fool if you let relationships taint your path to victory… in my opinion.” You turned your head to look at him. The moonlight shining from the gaps in the blinds complimented his dancing eyes. They looked at you. Your figure. Your facial features. They admired you as if you were a priceless piece of art at a gallery.

“You must’ve led a pretty sad life up until now.” He wasn’t right. You’d been around love and laughter for the better part of your life. You weren’t that lonely… were you?

“Lando… we don’t even—”

“Don’t tell me we don’t know each other. You know me and I know you. This isn’t like all those months ago. We’ve been in social settings together more than I can count on my fingers. You and I know each other.” He was obviously desperate. It made sense when thinking of the massive crush he’d had on you thus far. You did feel a tinge of guilt knowing you had to turn him down no matter what.

“Lando, please don’t do this.”

“I apologize for being so forward, okay? How about we begin with a friendship, huh? That’s what Max would want anyway.” He wasn’t wrong. That’s what Max had asked of you several months ago, but you’d only been distant.

You got along with everyone pretty well. Mick was someone you would chat with every time you saw him on race weekends. Sebastian was like an older brother. Lewis, although your biggest competition, was a good buddy too. You were always hanging around Pierre and Kika too. There were no hard feelings between you and pretty much all of the other drivers. Except for Lando.

As much as you hated admitting it, Lando’s charms had taken a massive effect on you. His flirtatious little comments were nothing short of annoying, but you loved the banter. You loved his energy, his radiant laugh whenever Max would hurl jokes his way. You loved his smirk whenever you rejected his advances.

Over just a couple of months, you found yourself needing to avoid him. So you did. As more time passed, Lando must’ve started to notice, because he dialled his game up by the tenths. Avoiding him became an impossible mission. He seemed to be everywhere. If you went to the Red Bull motorhome, he was there with Max. If you went to the garage, he was there with Max. Even on-track he was right behind you in your slipstream. He was always chasing you. You only had one other option left— to act completely apathetic and aloof. Which brought you right to the confrontation in front of a little toddler trying to fall asleep.

“Just leave me alone. I don’t want you here. Just go, okay?” Your heart clenched as he gave you a disappointed smile.

“If that’s what you want.”

That night you couldn’t fall asleep. It was impossible. Whilst you didn’t harbour any real feelings for Lando, you knew you’d fall hard if you spent any more time with him. Your mind was supposed to be focused on winning, but instead of that— you were stuck on him. You didn’t want to fall for him. You didn’t have time for that. There was only one person that mattered, and that was you. Only you.

“Is he really that bad?” Kika asked as she took a sip of her coffee, placing it on the plastic coaster on the wooden table. You’d invited her over for a sleepover of sorts. Mainly what became an accidental therapy session,

“You know, I came here to Monaco to explore. Why are we sitting here and sulking? Lando isn’t all that bad.”

“Yes, Kika, he is! He keeps trying to get close to me, and when I reject him he makes me feel so guilty for doing so.” Your face was squished against the table, signalling your utter defeat in the matter. You were at a complete loss. You didn’t know what to do anymore.

“Sounds to me like you have a thing for him, no?” Kika was a voice of reason in many situations, but this was not acceptable to you. Denial and delusion was the only solution.

“Never. I want to win a championship, not go fool around with some British guy from a midfield team.” Harsh, but you had to say it. Saying it didn’t exactly have an effect on the situation, but it made you feel better.

“I don’t see any quick fix to this, honestly.” You groaned at her words, wanting your misery to end.

“Come on, relationships take time. I should know, I’m with Pierre.” Pierre wasn’t Lando though. She and he were meant to be. It was as if they were put on the planet to be with each other. You, on the other hand, were put on the planet to win. Lando was nothing but a meaningless distraction.

“Fine, I’ll help you out,” she finally said and sighed. You sprung up and looked at her with wide eyes,

“Really?”

“Really. Now listen. I’ll set up a double date thing, okay?”

“Wait what? No! Kika, no. That’s only going to make it worse. Why would you do that?” Your head dropped again.

“Look, do you want my help or not?”

“I do…”

“Then let me do my thing, and sit tight.” It was her win. You just wanted to get Lando out of the way. Any lengths were necessary if it meant being able to blow right past the Brit.

A week passed before the supposed ‘double date’, and you were not feeling it one bit. Lando wasn’t even all that close with Kika and Pierre. Not as close as you were. You’d end up being the only reason he’d have to stay.

Sadly you realized that fact too late. You were sat with Kika and Pierre at a fancy seafood place down by the harbour. Lando had noted that he’d be late, which gave the three of you some time to discuss some last-minute details. It was imperative that he’d be completely out of the equation by the end of the date.

It wasn’t so much the question of whether or not you’d fallen for him. No, it was whether you could ignore it altogether. Completely shut out any little squeak from your heart when it tugs at the sight of him. Which is just did.

You saw him walking through the door with a casual, but not too casual outfit. His curls were slightly slicked back and his smile was as radiant as ever. You couldn’t stand the sight of him. It was repulsive. Was it not? It made you sick. Did it not?

When he took a seat next to Pierre, across from you, it was hard to not look at him. Oh, but how badly you wanted to. Then again— you didn’t. You hated the fact that Kika had some diabolical plan in mind. One that probably went against everything you stood for.

“Well! Now that Lando’s here, we should order appetizers!” She pulled out the menu and casually looked through the variety of foods.

Whilst she ordered for the four of you, Pierre gave you a nervous look and slightly peered over at Lando, who luckily had his nose buried in his phone. Likely some business stuff. You could only mouth ‘What do I do?’ to which the Frenchman replied with a shrug and a miserable look on his face. He knew just as much as you, that this date would end up in a knot of awkward silences and unfinished sentences.

“Lando, I didn’t think you’d actually show up. You know, given this girl’s obvious distaste for you.” You nearly snapped your neck, as she pointed at you. Oh, how you wanted someone to interrupt your date. Anyone. Lando put his phone away, sighed, and looked at you with a small smile, before giving her a reply,

“I don’t care if I’m being completely honest. I’ve done it for months. I can go for years if I have to.” Kika had seriously misinterpreted Lando’s intentions and how badly he actually wanted you. Your version of the situation had him painted in an entirely different light after all. You made him out to be some meaningless player. Which, by the sound of things, wasn’t his style at all.

“I was under the impression he was trying to play you! That’s why this date would’ve worked out to get him off your back. What is this?!” Kika whisper-yelled. Everything was messed up. Way off course. The plan had gone to shit within less than an hour.

“Well… I really don’t like him, so isn’t there something you can do?” You whispered back. The two of you both realized that the guys were able to see you whispering back and forth, so she hauled you into the ladies’ room. It was quiet and nobody would disturb you.

“Do you want the truth or a sugar-coated lie?” She asked, resting a hand on her hip.

“The truth?” You were conflicted though. Did you actually want the truth? Did you already know it? Did you perhaps just bury it deep within the darkest chambers of your pitiful little lonely soul? Were you so obsessed with rising to the top, that relationships truly didn’t matter?

“You like him. No, it’s more than just an infatuation. You’re head over heels for him. The way you looked at him when he walked in? I saw it. Pierre saw it. The waiters saw it! Open your eyes.” Hearing it from another person really put things into perspective, and it didn’t sit right with you. All your life you were used to pushing people away. Silly little childhood crushes would stay exactly that; crushes. You never let anything go beyond the first stage.

“Kika… I don’t know,” you groaned and turned on the faucet, splashing some water on your face.

“Come on, let’s get back to them. They’re waiting for us.”

After sitting back down, Lando tried to give you a curt smile. It was awkward and the pressure was rising. It was hard to stay within 10 feet of the guy.

“I remember when I first started falling for Pierre. It was really something… how about you, Lando? When did you start having a thing for her?” Oh please, Kika seemed too determined to let it go. A part of you liked that, but the other part felt its gut screaming in agony.

“It’s been more than a year or so now, actually… it’s a little hard to explain.” With that, you couldn’t handle it anymore. You apologized and left the setting abruptly. It was far too much for you, and you just knew your heart would give out.

As you walked out of the restaurant and started looking for a cab, you heard footsteps running after you, with the calling of your name soon following right behind. You knew exactly who it was, but you didn’t know if you were ready for that conversation.

“Please don’t. Don’t leave again.” You turned around to see a very desperate-looking Lando.

“Lando, do you know how embarrassing that was for me?” You sighed and rolled your eyes as if you were a bratty teenager being denied the latest fashion statement dress.

“What?”

“Even I didn’t know it had been a whole year and more than that! You were seriously going to tell them all about your weird little obsession with me! Don’t you see how embarrassing that is for me?” The curly-haired brunette looked reasonably upset by your words. They cut deep like a dagger to the chest.

“I’m sorry, okay? I was just being honest. It felt like an interrogation. I was uncomfortable and just had to say something… well… the truth. It was really as if Kika wanted to know my intentions, though.” How was the guy so spot on?

“Lando, just leave me be and go back to the others. We can live our separate lives. I don’t want to be near you right now.” You didn’t want your face to reveal any underlying feelings, so you buried your gaze in the asphalt.

“Why don’t you go ahead and look into my eyes whilst you say that.” Your heart stopped. Lando was simply impossible.

“Lando, just let me go. I don’t want you and if you can’t accept that— I don’t think there’s any space for a friendship either.” This time, he went to hell with it and cupped your face with both hands. You could feel the warmth pulsating in each palm, sending jolts down your spine.

“There’s no reason to treat me like this if you can’t even say it straight to my face.” He held you too tightly for you to look away from him. All you could see was the genuine despair in his eyes. The little hope he had left was slowly slipping the more you denied and denied and denied.

“Lando if you don’t let go of me right now…”

“What are you going to do? Distance yourself from me? Isn’t that what you've been doing this whole season? Do you think you’re invisible? I’ve seen you. I saw you on the podium. I saw you on the screens. I saw you in the magazines. Just because you run away, doesn’t mean you get to go the easy way out. No, you’ll know that I—“ Fuck. Your brain was struggling to scramble everything together. All you could think about was those sweet eyes of his. Those curly locks. That desperate look on his face.

“Just let me go… please.” The overload of sensory input sent a single tear streaming down your face. Lando, seeing this, immediately let go of you, making sure he hadn’t hurt you in some way.

“I’m so sorry. I really am.”

“I know…” You quickly wiped the salty drop of truth away and put on yet another jester’s face.

“Please, can you tell me why you hate me so much? I just need closure. I just can’t find it in myself to believe that it’s because of my flirtation.” He’d given you space to breathe and space to think.

“I don’t hate you…”

“Then why do you keep leaving? Why are you avoiding me?”

“Because I’ll fall in love with you if I don’t… and that’s not what I want to do.” It was hard to read his face, but it was certainly portraying some kind of relief. You confirmed it when he pulled you into his chest. The sound of his heartbeat matched the pace of yours. Fast and relenting.

“Please, could you give it a chance? Give us a chance?” He pulled away, grabbed you by the hips and looked deeply into your eyes. The window to your soul.

“I just told you… that’s not what I want, Lando…” You were just about to give the ground another look at your face when Lando grabbed you by the chin,

“I know you’re obsessed with winning. I heard from Max. I won’t compromise that. I promise. It’s just… I need you in my life, and now that I know you feel the same way… I can’t just sit back and watch you slip away.” He was making it harder than you wanted him to. He had a point and you chewed on it.

“Fine… but you better let me win. At least for the remaining races of this season.”

“Sounds like you’ve got yourself a deal.” He smiled. It was as if time stood still, as you’d eyes closed with his— your lips touched his with a certain birding falling off your back along with it. His lips were like a cure. They were soft and delicate. Not something you expected, but the feeling was certainly welcome.

The season had ended with you as the champion. The party that was held was unlike the others. It was your party. Not Max’s. Not Lewis’. It was yours and yours alone. People cheered your name and toasted in your honour. You felt like you were on top of the world. More than anything though, Lando held you in his arms that same night. He showered you with congratulations and compliments. Even going as far as buying you a bouquet of roses. The club smelled of alcohol and cheap perfume, but all you could smell was the woodsy and warm scent of Lando’s cologne. You were practically engulfed in it throughout the entire night.

He took you on an official date a week later, waiting for the season to fully conclude. Mostly due to the stress of packing and making it back home.

It was a picnic in one of the many British marshes. Everything was home cooked. Well, you’d cooked everything and he had bought the wine. It was a win-win. You’d done everything overnight, as you wanted to arrive early into the morning.

You’d spread out the checkered tablecloth for you to sit on, opened the basket, and prepped everything. Lando opened the aged wine and poured you a glass before he poured his own— a true gentleman. You swirled your wine around, watching it hit the rim of your glass before you took a sip.

“For once, you aren’t running off before we eat. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dine, even with all the dinners we’ve had together,” your boyfriend chuckled and handed you a chocolate-covered strawberry. You took a bite of it to show off that you, in fact, were able to stay and eat. It stirred a little chuckle from him. He then mimicked the exact way you ate it and gave you another one after you finished yours.

You leaned against your lover’s shoulder, feeling his arm wrapped around your waist. The two of you watched the yellows, the oranges, and the reds in the sky as the sun started its ascension far into the horizon. It was mesmerizing. Truly. You admired the view, taking in all of life’s pleasures, and listened as the mourning doves cooed the same old nostalgic tune from your adolescent years. There was no place you’d rather be, and nobody you’d rather be there with, than with Lando Norris. The one, who through one too many races, was right in your slipstream.

𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻...

𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚!

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝗣𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗱𝗮𝗽𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝘆, 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗲, 𝗼𝗿 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺— 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻.

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ninazadzia · 2 months ago

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Title: 🩸 If You Hold Me Without Hurting Me Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Yelena Belova Also Featuring: Robert Reynolds | The Sentry Rating: E (18+) Spoilers:Thunderbolts (2025) Word Count (Ch. 1): ~2k AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65393155/chapters/168280408

Summary:

Yelena is supposed to keep Bob stable. Bucky is supposed to keep his distance. Neither of them are doing a very good job.

rampant thunderbolts* spoilers. Inspired by Lana Del Rey’s Cinnamon Girl, which I listened to on a loop while writing this. 10/10 recommend hitting play while reading. ✨💔

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part i: bob

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there's things I wanna say to you, but I'll just let you live

—Lana Del Rey, *Cinnamon Girl*

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We can’t.

I had the words loaded and chambered. Practiced, even.

Bob gave me that look again—the one he’s been giving me more and more lately. The look that says maybe this time, even if it never is.

Usually, I shut it down before we get here. But tonight… I don’t know.

This was the last stop on our New Avengers press tour—a PR-fueled damage control campaign, cooked up by Valentina herself. And for the grand finale, she wanted optics. Flashbulbs. Champagne. A full-on gala, hosted at Avengers Tower.

“It helps us fight the Bargain Bin narrative,” she’d said.

Bargain Bin Avengers. B-Vengers. The press hadn’t exactly been kind—not since Sam filed that lawsuit.

And because perception was everything, Val hadn’t needed to say it out loud. I was to stay close to Bob. Keep him grounded. Presentable. On message.

They didn’t use the word babysit. But that’s what it was.

I was the one he trusted most. The only one he really listened to.

Natasha was to Bruce what I was to Bob. Emotional anchor. Ground wire. Whatever metaphor made it sound less grim.

And most of the time, I was good at it.

But tonight, he looked at me like I was the only thing keeping him tethered to the floor.

And he looked good.

He’d shaved. Put on a real suit. Even combed his hair. I don’t know if it was cologne or just clean skin, but something about him smelled different—sharp, warm, intentional.

And maybe I’d had one too many glasses of bubbly. Maybe I’d gotten a little too used to the way his eyes lingered on me.

Maybe—for once—I didn’t want to carry all the weight alone.

We were the last ones up. Ava had bailed first. Walker wasn’t far behind. Alexei fell asleep mid-rant, slumped sideways on the couch. Bucky made some dry crack about the Soviet serum losing its punch, then hauled him off like it was a chore he didn’t mind doing.

Which left me and Bob. Alone.

And close.

He reached for the champagne.

“Ahh,” I said, lifting a hand.

“What?”

“I’m cut off. Already past my limit.”

Bob hesitated. Then tipped the bottle—not to himself, but toward me.

I shook my head. “Nice try.”

His smile faltered. “Right. Sorry.”

He poured himself a glass anyway. His hands shook slightly—barely enough to notice if you didn’t know him.

I knew him.

“You sure that’s smart?” I asked.

“It’s not meth.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry,” he said again. “Just… I wanted something to take the edge off.”

I didn’t answer. Just watched him drink.

It wasn’t the first time I’d felt the pull between us, but it was the first time I let myself acknowledge it. The way he looked at me like I mattered. The way his knee brushed mine and didn’t move.

I didn’t want Bob. Not really. Not in the way he wanted me.

But I did want to be wanted. And he did that—wanted me—without apology. Without hesitation.

It made something ache inside me.

His eyes flicked to my lips. My breath caught.

The silence that followed was thick. Not uncomfortable, exactly—just heavy with the weight of whatever we weren’t saying.

Bob glanced at me again, slower this time. Like he was working up to something. Like he was asking a question with his eyes.

I didn’t look away.

And for one reckless second, I thought—what if I just kissed him? Just leaned in and let it happen. Let myself feel wanted. Let him think it meant more than it did.

He looked so soft, tonight. Not just cleaned up—but vulnerable. Hopeful.

But I couldn’t.

Not with everything I knew. Not when I was the thing standing between him and the Void.

He leaned a little closer, and for half a second, I didn’t pull away.

And then—

Footsteps.

Too steady. Too timed.

“Shit, sorry—didn’t realize you were still up.”

Bucky’s voice cut through the moment like a blade. He crossed into the kitchen without looking at us, poured a glass of water, and took his time drinking it.

Casual. Measured. Deliberate.

I’d pulled this move before. Walk in late, look unbothered, kill the mood.

Maybe he was just returning the favor.

He was already halfway across the room, headed to the kitchen like it was a casual water run.

Bob practically teleported to the far end of the couch.

I could still feel his breath on my skin.

Bucky filled a glass, took a sip, and only glanced at us on the way back.

“Don’t let me interrupt,” he added dryly.

It was too smooth. Too perfectly timed.

I knew that move. I’d used it myself.

You sly bastard.

Bob was muttering something under his breath, looking at the floor.

Bucky’s eyes flicked to mine—checking. Not asking. Just seeing.

I stood up fast. “I’m heading to bed.”

And just like that, the spell broke.

I didn’t look back. But I knew exactly who was watching me leave.

What the fuck, Yelena.

I’d almost kissed Bob. Bob. Robert Reynolds—the Sentry, the Void. The most powerful human, being, or God recorded in human history. The one person on the team I’d been not-so-explicitly tasked to protect at all costs—and to help avoid emotional distress.

I tried my best not to run down the hall to my room. My hands shook as I ripped my dress off.

“Get a fucking grip, Yelena,” I muttered, like a mantra. How could I be so fucking stupid?

Bob and I had always been close—closer than the other Thunderbolts. I had a soft spot for him. And I knew he knew that. But the more I thought about it—the way he looked at me, the way he always looked at me—I knew he’d felt it too.

That pull, that longing, between us—it was real. But was it mine? Or was I just mirroring it back at him? Letting myself feel wanted, instead of… whatever the hell I actually was.

I threw on the nearest sweatshirt and pants I could find. Shut off the lights. Crawled into bed.

If I could just pretend to sleep, maybe I could pretend I hadn’t almost made the worst mistake of my life.

“We can’t,” I whispered to myself.

Even though the thought alone made me wet. Even though I could still feel his breath against my lips, his suit against my skin.

But I didn’t want Bob. Not in the way I wanted to be wanted. Not in the way I…

God. Why was Bucky always the one who showed up at the exact wrong moment?

Or maybe—the exact right one.

I slipped my fingers between my thighs. The pressure hit fast—hot, desperate. “We can’t,” I whispered again, as I teased the edge of my clit.

I’d fleetingly had this fantasy before—but it wasn’t like I’d ever acted on it. Not really. Not until now.

I imagined his head between my legs. His mouth. His hands. The weight of his body, holding me in place.

My thighs trembled. Breath caught. I was so close—

—and then the door creaked open.

I didn’t even have time to yank the blanket up.

“Shit—”

He turned fast—too fast. Hand up over his eyes like it could erase what he’d just seen.

“I—I knocked,” Bucky stammered, mortified. “I should’ve knocked louder. I didn’t think—fuck, I’m sorry.”

His voice cracked with it—panic, embarrassment, regret.

“You always check on people like this?” I managed, breathless, yanking the blanket up over my hips.

“You said you were going to bed. I just—I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Clearly.”

He froze in the doorway, still turned away. His hand stayed over his face like I might combust on contact.

“Bucky.”

My voice came out quieter than I meant.

He turned, cautiously, like he wasn’t sure if it was a trap.

“For what it’s worth,” I said, voice low but steady, “this wasn’t… a regular thing.”

His mouth twitched. He didn’t quite meet my eyes.

“I wasn’t planning on it. You just… caught me on a weird night.” I shrugged, folding my arms. “Can’t blame a girl for having urges.”

That got a reaction—barely. The ghost of a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Especially when we’re all playing pretend half the time,” I added. “Like we’re not human.”

He was quiet for a beat. And then—

“You’re not the only one with urges.”

The words slipped out before he could stop them. His posture went rigid the second they landed.

“What?” I said, blinking.

“And you’re not the only person on this team who wants someone they can’t have,” he added, softer, almost like it hurt.

Silence.

His eyes widened just slightly, like he’d only just realized he’d said it out loud.

“Shit,” he muttered, mostly to himself.

“That sounded… personal,” I said, cautious now.

“I should go,” he said quickly, already turning.

“Bucky—”

“Forget I said anything.”

“That’s gonna be hard.”

His hand gripped the doorknob like it was an anchor.

“Sleep well,” he said.

And then he was gone.

#bucky barnes #yelena belova #bucky x yelena #bob reynolds #sentry #marvel fanfiction #thunderbolts 2025 #fanfic #fic rec #bucklena #mcu thunderbolts #winterlena #james buchanan barnes #yelena x bucky #winter soldier #light boblena #bucky/yelena

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