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odxrilove · 11 months

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☆ TXT AND THINGS THEY DO THAT MAKE YOU QUESTION WHAT YOU TWO ARE

pairing: txt x f!reader

genre: hcs/scenarios, fluff, bsfs/friends2???? ~1.2k :D

a/n: requested by anon! song rec - nouvelle vague by wave to earth.. also big thank u to val pookie @fairybinie for helping me out sm with these scenarios!!! happy birthday poo i hope u had an amazing day and i wish u the best!! love you lots :D

back to masterlist!

☆ YEONJUN

constantly keeping his hand on your waist. such an action may seem futile and unnoticeable considering yeonjun’s the one doing it, but it still makes you confused. yeonjun’s known to be flirty, a literal heartthrob wherever he goes. he’s also very touchy, easily hugging someone or putting his arm around their shoulder. but it’s only truly with you that he lets his hand rest on your hip, finger hooked into one of your jeans’ belt loops.

at first he started doing it at parties, after finding you in the crowd, arms circling your waist to keep you from getting lost in the wave of people. it continued at normal hangouts, laughing alongside his friends as his fingers fiddled with the hem of your top. then it happened when you two were alone, lounging on your couch while watching a movie. there wasn’t anything or anybody he had to protect you from, but he still slid his hand between the backrest and your body until you were practically glued to his side, his arm comfortably holding onto your waist.

you’re not sure why he does it; maybe to show others you’re not available– you are though, or to purposely tease you and make your heart skip a beat– something that already happens a lot in his presence. but one thing you know for sure is, it certainly doesn’t help your already weak heart.

☆ SOOBIN

being oddly protective of you. soobin is the least confrontational person you know, so it didn’t surprise you when he kept his mouth shut as one of your classmates teased him in class. that’s initially how you two became friends, him nursing your wounded fist after you punched the bully right in the nose for calling him a lanky nerd. 5th grade sure was wild. the following years, soobin tried his best to defend you like you defended him back in the day but again, he’s the least confrontational person you know. however, his best friend-instincts took over him when a guy tried to hike up your dress at the graduation party. you nursed his wounded fist after and the two of you became even closer. after the “fight of the century” soobin swore to himself he would protect you. at first, you found it funny, trying to stop yourself from blushing when he would raise his voice at whoever decided to bother you that day. you don’t really know when it started but with each new time, his best-friend protection act would slowly turn into something that held a lot more feelings than just platonic ones. the way he would look at you to see if you were alright, or the way his hand would slid into yours, or even the one time he called you his partner instead of his best friend. everything was slowly changing, and you didn’t even know if soobin was even aware of it himself.

☆ BEOMGYU

calls you his girlfriend. the first time he did it, you thought he was just joking around, trying to tease you. so you laughed it off, attempting to hide the way your heart fluttered at the thought of you being his actual girlfriend. but the second time, a week or so later, you were even more confused. did beomgyu think you two had something going on? did he find out about your old crush on him? you really didn’t know why he started calling you his girlfriend, since none of his other actions showed he felt anything except platonic feelings for you. he stopped after the fourth time, after he noticed your disoriented and clearly disheartened expression. weeks passed and not once did beomgyu explain his old but short habit to you. but then, months later, when you had almost forgotten about the whole ordeal, beomgyu did it again. to be honest, him calling you his girlfriend that time was in fact beneficial for you– you refused to talk any longer to the creep begging for your number. but the way the word rolled off his tongue, a hint of arrogance and a ton of proudness, made you reach for his hand, acting like the role he had assigned you. tension followed after, for weeks, and your heart continued to long for him. if only you knew you were the only thing on his mind whenever someone said the word “girlfriend”.

☆ TAEHYUN

constantly buys you things. it may seem shallow at first, but whenever taehyun brings you a small trinket or whatever food you were craving at that moment, your heart fills with joy. it’s not the way he spends money for you, but the way he looks at you when he gives it to you, eyeing you to see your neutral expression change into a happy one. taehyun’s a great listener, so he knows all your orders and favorite things by heart, which only makes it easier for him to empty his bank account for you. he swears you’re not special, or at least not more important than the rest of his friends– for whom he rarely ever buys anything– but he can’t really stop his brain from thinking of you when he sees something pretty or tasty at the mall. the dainty necklace around your neck is the literal proof of his favoritism towards you. he had given it to you on your graduation and you hadn’t taken it off since. it was a symbol for your friendship, he said, something to remember the many years you spent together, but the shiny “T” letter pendant made your heart swell every time you felt it against your skin. in all truth, taehyun was just waiting for you to notice the letter pendant of your name he wore on his necklace and hid, carefully, under his shirt collar.

☆ HUENING KAI

he constantly mentions you two in his future. you and kai have been friends since the two of you were in diapers and basically experienced all your first together. spending all those years together, in the same neighborhood, school and friend groups lead to many talks about your futures, sometimes wiping anxious tears away or doubling over from laughter at the mention of so many possibilities. it was a normal thing for you two, getting together and just talking about whatever would be on your mind at that moment. every conversation was different but one thing never changed, the way huening kai wouldn’t forget to mention you in his future plans. he would have pictured everything out, you two living next to each other in your own homes, working across the street from each other, adopting pets at the same time so they could be friends, meeting every friday for a ramen and movie night… whenever you were worried about what the future prepared for you, kai would comfort you, reminding you that no matter what happened later, he would always be there. it always reassured you but unfortunately, you never had the guts to tell him that you’d prefer to live together later, spend your work lunch breaks together, adopt a pet together, and turn every night into a movie marathon.

taglist: @0x1lovebot @fairybinie @blaqpinksthetic @odetoyeonjun @pockyandme @soobin-chois @lolalee24 @soobisms @junityy @kaimal @laylasbunbunny @jaeyunverse @enhacolor @honglynights @starry-mins @bibinnieposts @raevyng @yoonzin0 @tyunni @pointlessapple @yyx2 @pearlygraysky @angelyeo-hyj

please do not copy, repost or steal any of my work. all content belongs to @odxrilove

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02zhoonie · 7 months

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i testify this lovin’

18+ MDNI !!

guitarist! park jongseong (jay) x fem! reader smut

(can be read as idol!jay too)

you watch your boyfriend play the electric guitar. he’s hot. antics ensue.

cw: fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, semi (?) public sex (they’re in a soundproof music studio in a company building do with that what you will), slight sub!reader/dom!jay

word count: 2.4k

a/n: this was supposed to be a drabble i don’t know how this became longer than that. how dare jongseong drop that tiktok video on us on a random tuesday morning does he know his effect??? shout out to my love @fakeuwus for inspiring me and also fueling my delusional tendencies ?? i feel insane. anyway please do enjoy this !!

NOT PROOFREAD

your boyfriend jongseong was practicing on his new electric guitar for the past hour and though you enjoyed the music he played, you couldn’t help but start to get restless. it was getting stuffy in the small studio he had in his company’s building and it also didn’t help that he looked incredibly attractive like this. he is handsome on a daily basis - something you find yourself having to indoctrinate in him whenever his self doubt comes into play, but there was just something about him being so fixated on playing the guitar that made you so… horny

maybe it was the way a pout was formed on his lips as he usually did when he concentrated hard on doing something. or the way his thighs were spread to accommodate the length and size of the guitar. his outfit choice today was simple but his hair being unstyled and bare face just added to the appeal. and it was definitely the way his skillful fingers plucked and strummed on the strings as the sound filled the room. even the song that he chose to focus on seemed to be suggestive as well. you couldn’t help but to squirm while imagining all the things you wanted to do with him in this very moment. so much so that you didn’t realise that the song had stopped playing on loop and your boyfriend was trying to get your attention.

“baby? are you with me?” jongseong let out a soft chuckle after you finally noticed that he was taking a break. you nod slowly after snapping out of your daydreams, cheeks getting warm as you register what you’d just been doing. hopefully your boyfriend wouldn’t have been able to tell.

“tired?”

“no jjongie, just got distracted for a moment.”

“ah,” a smirk graces his lips. shit. “c’mere then, i wanna teach you something.”

he pats on his lap invitingly, and you can’t help but oblige, getting up from your spot on the sofa to join him where he was sitting, not before taking a quick sneak at his thick thighs. you make yourself comfortable between his legs, leaning back against the warmth of his chest. after pecking the top of your head, jongseong adjusts his guitar and brings your smaller hands to clutch the fret board.

“gonna teach you how to play a chord ‘mkay” he utters from behind you and feeling his hot breath against the nape of your neck. you feel the stickiness start to gather between your thighs as he does something as simple as gently moving your fingers to press down on the strings. it’s quite embarrassing to admit how worked up you’re getting by his actions, his other arm looping around your waist to keep the base of the guitar steady.

“relax, baby,” he laughs at you again, “your fingers are so stiff.”

“there’s a reason why i don’t play instruments, jay.” you roll your eyes though he can’t see, trying to deflect away from the fact that really your awkwardness stems from his presence overwhelming all of your senses at this very moment and you could barely focus on holding your hands still much less relaxing them. jongseong steals a quick kiss against your cheek, muttering a short apology knowing you were getting tired of his teasing, and continues on to properly explain what he was teaching you in detail.

“so this is a g chord,” he says after placing your fingers in an almost triangle like shape across the board. “it’s one of the most basic chords and almost every pop song has at least one in it.”

“can you hold it there for me baby?” your boyfriend asks before removing his hand from your wrist and placing it on your thigh instead, dangerously close to where your panties were slick with your wetness. his hand that was previously around your waist, moves to the bridge of his guitar and strums once. “and it sounds like this.”

“did i hold it right?”

“yes, you did so good for me baby. that’s my girl.” he moves in to place an open-mouthed kiss against your neck and that’s when you know it’s game over. he knows.

“mmm, jjongie!” you squeal as he moves down to suck on that sweet spot between where your neck ends and your shoulder begins. your cunt clenches and you pray to every god out there that your panties are not drenched through to the leather seat cover.

“wanna tell me what you were so distracted by, baby?” slowly manoeuvring the guitar away from the two of you and safely onto the stand, one of his hands crawls up your torso to play with your nipple through the fabric of your t-shirt, drawing circles around them and sending tingles straight down your spine. your voice is strained as you are barely able to force out a response, his lips traveling down to your clavicle as he paws at your shirt collar.

“your lips” you let out a gasp as both his hands now have found their way under your shirt and grab at your boobs.

“mhmm.”

“your thighs” he pulls you ever so close to him, his large hard bulge pressing against the small of your back.

“‘s that all baby? you know, you were staring so hard.”

“your h-hands,” you stutter as he sucks harder on your neck, pulling the flesh between his teeth to leave a pretty purple mark there. he hums in satisfaction at your answer as his fingers trail down to the waistband of your sweatpants but pausing before going any further down. a whine leaves your lips at this.

“what about my hands baby?” he inquires with a curious lilt to his tone, though he already has an inkling of what you would say.

“looked like they would make me feel so good” you admit, biting down hard on your bottom lip. feeling yourself grow impatient as your boyfriend continues to drag out his teasing even more, you pull him by the wrist and all but shove his hand down your pants. “please jjongie, if you don’t touch me now, i feel like i’m going to explode.”

as the wetness that has pooled at your cunt reaches his fingertips, you just know that there’s a smug look on his face as he realises his effect on you. beginning to toy with your clit using his thumb, his index sweeps up and down your folds almost slipping in your entrance.

“all i did was play the guitar but my baby’s already this wet and needy for me.” oh he definitely has that smug look on his face.

without warning his finger plunges into you and the squelching noise echoes as he expertly moves it in and out of you. you mewl loudly after finally finally getting the contact you so desperately craved but cut yourself after remembering where you were.

“it’s okay, make all the noise you want, these walls are soundproof.” jongseong assures you as he realises you were muffling yourself. “i wanna hear you, pretty.”

soon enough he adds another finger into the mix, pushing deeper within your walls, easily finding the spot that makes your back arch and moan his name repeatedly. there was something so confident and assured about the way he was fingering you that sent you to seventh heaven. normally he was good, knowing all your pleasure points and hitting them just right but this was good. as if the ego boost from you had allowed him to push into you deeper and stronger. you feel your high start to approach at an embarrassingly fast pace and he knows it too with the way your pussy starts gripping his fingers like crazy, bending the tips of them to press against the most sensitive parts.

“‘m so close, jjongie.”

“i know baby, can you take one more? wanna stretch you out some more.”

you let out a noise of approval, too blissed out to gather a proper response as he presses his third finger into you, giving your walls a delicious stretch. the feeling of being so full of his fingers makes you cry out and jongseong has his lips against your shoulder, eyebrows furrowed and little pants falling out of his mouth as he tries so intensely to bring you to your high.

“cum on my fingers baby, i wanna see you make a mess on them”

and with that your orgasm washes over you, collapsing against his chest with heavy breaths as he lets you calm down a bit in his arms, before pulling his fingers out and adjusting you so that you are now straddling his lap. his hand is coated in your arousal as he brings them to his lips and licks them clean. there’s also a damp patch on your sweatpants as well as on his loose jeans where you came. holding his jaw in your hands, you join his lips messily with yours, giving him a long wet kiss, not caring that you can taste your juices on his lips and he lets out a (cute) noise of surprise.

“so. they lived up to your expectations then?” he asks with a quiet laugh after you separate, but it was more of a statement than a question at this point. you let out another miffed whine at his words burying your head in his neck and steadily grinding against the bulge in his pants.

“just shut up and fuck me already.” you demand, losing all sense of politeness in your tone as your patience and neediness for his cock overrides everything else.

“what happened to my sweet, shy princess who got horny just from watching me play my electric?” he starts to hook his arms under your thighs and carry you over to the couch. “has she lost all her manners? wants me to just fuck her here in my studio?” he attempts to sound stern but he can’t keep the amusement out of his voice. if he knew this would have had that much of an effect on you, he would have invited you over to watch him play a long time ago.

“sorry jjongie, just fed up of waiting.” you pout as he lays your back gently on the cushions, pulling your sweats and panties off in one motion. undoing the button of his jeans and finally being able to release his cock out from his boxers, the tip red and pulsing, he climbs his way so that he’s hovering over you on the sofa, grabbing one of your legs and wrapping it around his hips.

“it’s okay baby, i’ve always dreamed of taking you on this couch.” he has the biggest shit eating grin on his face as he says this, recalling the lonely late nights in this room that he spent finishing up his work. now having you laid out beneath him, it was almost like he was fulfilling one of his biggest fantasies. he lines up his cock at your entrance, looking back at you for your go ahead.

“take me then”

you didn’t have to tell him twice.

jongseong presses into you, letting out a loud groan as your walls basically swallow his cock whole. it takes a little while for you to adjust to his size though having been fucked by him many times, he’s still the biggest you have ever had and it drives you crazy how full he makes you feel.

“fucked my fingers into you and you’re still so tight for me?” he grunts when he’s able to push all the way into you, touching that crevice behind your cervix that has you clawing his back. “god, you’re a fucking dream.”

you tap on his shoulder as a sign for him to start moving and your boyfriend begins pounding you into the sofa cushions with no mercy. incoherent babbles were the only things leaving your mouth. your little ah’s and um’s and calls of his name, only drove him to go deeper with his thrusts.

he gets down on his elbows to steal your breath away with a kiss, body moving rhythmically to fulfill your needs. there’s not enough words in your vernacular to describe the pleasure that comes from the repeated ramming of his dick into all the right places in your pussy.

“wan’ more” you finally muster after so long of being breathless, “wan’ you deeper jjongie, please”

it’s in the way he immediately proceeds to put your legs over his shoulders and practically folds you into half, that you know you don’t have to say much for him to know and do exactly as you want. (and that’s princess treatment from park jongseong for you.) his eyes are half-lidded as he continues his motions and it’s a sight to behold, the beads of sweat running down his temple, glistening against his tanned skin.

“love it when you give me your body like this” he murmurs between breaths as they grow heavier with his physical exertion. “mine to hold, mine to fuck and mine to fill with my cum”

“mmm, please” you beg at his words, the idea of white cum spilling down your thighs making your eyes roll back in excitement.

“please, what baby? fill you up?”

you nod your head so violently, jongseong is starting to get afraid you’d get vertigo from it. with a hand on one of your ankles and the other supporting his weight, he starts plunging in you harder, gritting his teeth as your walls tighten around his cock and the pleasure becomes immeasurable.

“i will baby, i'll fill you up so good i promise. you just gotta be a good girl and come with me, okay”

“i will jjongie, i’ll be good for you.”

that’s enough for him to release his load into you, and as the first spurt of warm cum starts to fill you up and his thrusts become more sporadic, you reach your second high of the night, squeezing his cock for every last drop.

after gently removing your legs from his shoulders, your boyfriend collapses against you, not wanting to pull out just yet, the two of you squashed in that sofa. he plays with strands of your hair, smiling as the two of you catch your breaths.

“so,” he says after a beat, “you think guitar players are sexy huh?”

“JONGSEONG!” you yell, the warmth returning to your cheeks as you try and inevitably fail to hide your face away from him.

“nothing to be shy about baby, i’ll just make a mental note for later.”

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen smut #jay enhypen smut #jay smut #jongseong smut #jay imagines #enhypen hard hours #jongseong hard hours #jay hard hours #jay hard thoughts #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen x reader #jay x reader #jongseong x reader #park jongseong smut #park jongseong x reader #park jongseong imagines

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vesppperoro · 1 month

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hii uhh, i had a little idea that id like to share if thats ok, it might be quite triggering tho so be warned ‼️

a sinner demon reader thats based on a teddy bear, because theyre too soft and mushy personality-wise, and they ended up in hell due to being suicidal. like their whole body is covered in stitches thats supposed to be a metaphor for sh scars

do whatever u want with that info, u can even ignore it if u like, have a nice day ❤️

Hazbin Hotel Cast with a Teddy Bear!Sinner Reader

Includes: Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Husk, Niffty, Sir. Pentious, Cherri Bomb, Alastor.

A/N: this is such an interesting idea! I’m going based on my own experiences as someone like this, along with research. I appreciate you for trusting me with this <3 I definitely WILL make a p2!! Might write for this sinner more tbh I loved writing them!! I thought you meant a child and I wrote that I’m so sorry 😭

Charlie Morningstar

She truly didn’t understand why you were in hell.

You are such a sweetheart! She adores you.

When you showed up to the hotel one day, without clothes and covered in stitches, she was immediately worried.

She took you in and washed you up as best as she could.

You were like a child! Why were you even here?

She was happy that you wanted to be redeemed, however.

She became a mother figure to you.

You go to her when you’re sad and you hug her frequently.

She traces your scars sometimes and you two share a silent moment together.

A silent moment of understanding.

She loves picking you up and holding you!

She hugs you like you’re an actual teddy bear.

She’s the one you go to for emotional things.

She’s good at comforting you. She somehow knows what you wanna hear at all times.

Vaggie

She became a secondary mother figure to you.

She was Charlie’s girlfriend, so of course she was.

She understood your situation and was pissed heaven casted a sweetie like you because of your lowest point.

She’s the more levelheaded one.

She’s the one who gives you advice and stuff like that. While Charlie is the more emotionally supportive one, Vaggie is the more mature and steady one.

She also traces your scars. Even if you don’t like them, she tells you you’re beautiful no matter what.

When you told her more of your story, she almost cried.

A child feeling this way broke her to pieces. Especially since you were so soft.

Other than the sad stuff, she loves cuddling you.

You, her, and Charlie sometimes have cuddle sessions with you in the middle because you’re so warm + soft + squishy.

She would kill anyone for you. You’re just so adorable!

She tries to teach you to fight but gives up when you don’t want to hurt anyone.

Angel Dust

Honestly, he saw himself in you.

A lost, scared, and lonely child. You didn’t know the cruelties of the world, aside from those cruelties in your mind.

He tries his best to comfort you. He’s not the best with words, but he’s always there for you.

He calls you sugar bear! He loves you to death.

He would go to the ends of hell for you.

He treats you like he wished to be when he was the same way.

You two share a lot of similarities, so you bond well.

He nearly cried when you told him your stitches were scars from sh.

He embraces you any time he can.

He tries to be the parental figure he needed so you can have a better life, somewhere no one would judge you.

Husk

He’s stubborn, like a dad. He acts like one too.

A hardheaded, yet sweet dad.

He’s like the father you never had. Or did have. Whichever.

He’s the bartender, so he knew how to comfort.

But when you told him your story, he almost broke.

You two definitely sing some sort of song together. Maybe Angel or Vaggie joins.

He cuddles you and hides you with his wings.

If you give him baby doe eyes, he might just take you on a flight.

Husk is SUPER protective over you. He’s very similar to Vaggie in a way when it comes to protection.

He gives you good advice but he still hides behind his tough guy exterior.

He doesn’t understand why you’re down here, even if you tell him. You’re so sweet!

Either way, he adores you.

He loves patting your head and messing with your fuzzy ears.

Might even boop your nose once or twice.

Late night talks.

He probably talked you down from trying to commit again.

Niffty

Another tiny person! Yay!

You’re not a bad boy. She may be a psycho, but she would never call you bad.

Actually, she did once and felt bad once you cried.

She likes to hang out with you since you’re both tiny!

She cuddles and hugs you like you’re her stuffed animal.

Bug killers! Even if you don’t wanna kill bugs, she’s dragging you along anyways.

She tries to hide her needle from you since Husk told her what your stitches meant.

Alastor has to babysit both of you basically.

You and her do almost everything together! You’re best friends!

She sneaks into the kitchen and grabs you both snacks so you can watch a movie.

She makes you sleep in her bed sometimes so she can cuddle you.

Sir. Pentious

He’s a dad. Or, he was.

He treats you like he wishes he treated his son before he passed.

He acts like your father. An awkward father, but he still tries.

He also protects you.

Expect him to curl his tail around you and cuddle you when you’re sad.

He literally cried when you told him your story.

He tells you anytime he can that it’s not your fault. Your stitches are still beautiful.

Best girl dad ever.

Buys you anything he wants, even if he’s broke. (Except sharp things)

He teaches you some things about inventing!

You made him a little metal flower and he was so overjoyed. He took it with him everywhere.

He still remembers you, even if he’s in Heaven now.

Cherri Bomb

Chaotic auntie energy.

She would do ANYTHING for you.

She picks you up and places you on her hip like a baby.

She loves your ears! She also adores how sweet you are.

She wouldn’t admit it, but you’re the cutest thing she’s ever seen.

Even if you tell her your story, she wouldn’t see you differently. You’re a child, a child who went through so much.

Hangouts with her and Angel are a MUST.

They try to avoid doing the normal around you and focus on fun time.

She took you with her when she had a territorial fight one time and you almost cried.

She felt so bad that she bought you anything you wanted for a week.

She did anything you wanted to do, even if Husk or someone else said no to you.

Basically, if you wanted something, you went to her.

Alastor

He’s not one to like kids, really.

He was, however, kinder to you.

He did anything to protect you.

He was like your insane uncle.

He was the one who taught you how to use your abilities. Maybe to help you, or to manipulate you when you grow.

He made you jambalaya once and it became your favorite dish to share with him!

He introduced you to radio and he was happy that you loved it.

He started bringing you to his studio whenever he did a radio show.

He took you to an overlord meeting once. That’s how you met Rosie.

He pats your head like a dog lol.

Don’t expect him to be emotionally available. But he will be there to have fun sometimes.

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indigovigilance · 9 months

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A Nightingale Sang in 1941

This is my inaugural meta (yay!) Eventually I will learn how to add gifs and whatnot to make this more interesting but today, I give you a wall of text.

I need to give credit where credit is due to three existing metas that I’m drawing upon heavily here:

A speculative continuation of the 1941 story, which includes an almost-kiss while “A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square” plays on the gramophone,

A behavioral analysis of Aziraphale during the S2E6 finale (will find ref later if possible)

A meta-analysis of the way in which “coffee” is used as a symbolic equivalent for liberty and freedom of choice, a running theme of this show (will find ref later if possible)

I’m going to expand upon meta #2 and #3 and explain why I think there is are very compelling reasons to believe that #1 will be canonized.

At the end of S1E6, an instrumental version of “A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square” plays diegetically, but the lyrical version plays non-diegetically over the credits (we hear it but the protagonists don’t). So we the audience could plausibly say “that’s their song,” but as of the close of S1, we have no reason to believe that they know that it’s their song. Even Aziraphale’s S1E3 (1967) suggestion that they dine at the Ritz could be a reference that only he gets, or just a fancy restaurant suggestion.

So when I was watching S2E6 and Crowley said “no nightingales,” I was jarred. What does that even mean? We know it has something to do with dining at the Ritz, but what does it mean to them? The reference only works if they know it’s their song. But we’ve only ever seen them hear it together after the averted apocalypse; if this is the direct reference that Crowley is making, it leaves our 1967 reference contextless and twisting in the wind.

If we assume that there was a romantic story beat in 1941, wherein “A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square” (which, incidentally, was written in 1939 and saw the height of its popularity at the end of 1940, so timeline-wise it’s spot-on) became their song, then a lot of events get renewed interpretations through this lens, in a way that makes this story much more cohesive and the “no nightingales” comment even more soul-shattering than it already was.

Let’s presume that immediately after this became their song and just as they were discovering their romantic potential, they were forced back into hiding. Forever after, references to the song serve as a macro for “I’d like to pick up where we left off that night.”

The 1967 suggestion of “dining at the Ritz” now becomes a directly romantic suggestion. It also gives better context for “you go too fast for me.”

Actually going to the Ritz in 2019 is not simply a celebration or even a callback to 1967, it’s a callback to their almost-romance of 1941.

When Crowley says “no nightingales” in 2023, this isn’t to say “we’re not going to eat together at the Ritz anymore.” It’s saying that the romance that began that night, the precious, fragile romance, is over.

I’ll give you a moment to dry your eyes before we move on to metas #2 and #3.

In light that this is what has been going on - they know they want a romantic relationship but have gotten so used to hiding and denying it that they are more comfortable keeping the status quo static and quo-y then trying to achieve their ideal - a lot of S2 behavior can get a fresh view.

Crowley’s reaction to Nina isn’t a realization that he’s in love - he knew that already. You can only ask someone to run away with you so many times before you are forced to admit some things to yourself. No, he’s realizing that trying to hide it (which was justified by survival), hasn’t been working, but despite failing at being stealth nothing bad has happened. He’s realizing that it may finally be safe to show it.

Crowley’s confession, then, is not a revelation. It’s making the subtext text. He’s not telling Aziraphale anything he didn’t already know. He’s saying it now because he thinks he’s safe to do so. Pin in that.

Lots of people have lots of theories about Aziraphale’s motivations in the S2 finale, which can more or less be divided into 4 camps: the genuinely held belief, the coffee theory, the lie theory, and the mutual trick theory (some version of the body-switching at the end of S1). Let me start by saying that I love all the fans and all their theories and I find their analyses to be insightful. The genuinely held belief theory, while I believe it to be erroneous, has been incredibly conducive to so many wonderful conversations and I love being in a community that has those conversations. But I’m going to explain why I think the lie theory finds the most support in canon.

Re-watch the finale (when you feel like you can) from 35:18 to 36:19 and then from 40:45 to the end, paying very close attention to Aziraphale’s words and his eyes. Michael Sheen is telling us a LOT with his eyes, and in the back half of the finale scene, with pacing.

For 60 seconds of footage, this setup is doing a lot of work. If Neil Gaiman wasn’t doing enough to beat us over the head with how evil the Metatron is, that glare at Crowley at the end with the non-diegetic ominous horns should convey the message. But again, focusing on Aziraphale. He initially refuses to talk to the Metatron; he’s made his position quite clear. There is no hint of regret or wavering; this is not someone who’s aching to return to the fold. The Metatron ignores his refusal and functionally forces him to accept a “cup of coffee.” The coffee isn’t spiked, but it is a metaphor. It is symbolic of choice. The Metatron is going to force Aziraphale to make a choice. Meta #3 does a great job of exploring the idea that a choice between anything and death is never really a choice. Hang onto that thought.

Notice I had you start up again 3 seconds before “The Conversation.” That’s because it’s important to note where the Metatron is right now. He is across the street, staring straight in through those giant windows to where our protagonists are about to have The Conversation. He is watching.

When Aziraphale returns, Crowley begins his “let me talk” riff. Aziraphale ought to be interested in what Crowley has to say, since the preamble is pretty compelling. You’ll notice that Aziraphale quickly turns to the window and back, through which he (but not we) can see the Metatron standing there, watching them. Aziraphale is then doing his best to get Crowley to STFU without raising the suspicion of the Metatron, eventually having to cut him off.

Because unfortunately, Crowley’s entire impetus for speaking up now is that it’s safe to do so. Only Aziraphale knows that they are in very real danger (or at least, Crowley is, but I’ll come back to that).

You might take something from the fact that he’s shaking his head while talking about “incredibly good news,” and seems to self-censor his criticism of Metatron (or more specifically, he takes ownership of any criticism of the Metatron, censoring out Crowley’s role in that, with the emphasis on I in “I might have misjudged him”).

Notice in the flashback that he begins the conversation reasonably relaxed. The Metatron also says a series of things about him that not only are false, but everyone, including the Metatron and Crowley, know are false: Aziraphale is not a leader, he’s a defector; he’s not honest, he lies all the time, in fact this entire season revolved around his one huge lie of hiding Gabriel. Not only does the justification not make sense coming from Metatron, but it shouldn’t make sense that Aziraphale would accept these reasons and it shouldn’t make sense to Crowley either. So is Aziraphale including these details in his recounting to Crowley so that he will get suspicious and figure out the jig? Maybe. Let’s continue.

Immediately upon being offered the job of Supreme Archangel, Aziraphale says “but I don’t want to go back to Heaven.” This is direct evidence against the genuinely held belief theory. If returning to Heaven and making a difference was a genuine motivation, we would have gotten a different response at this moment. But then we get something more.

“Where would I get my coffee?”

This is a beautiful response for a number of reasons; coffee should be trivial compared to the opportunity to be a Supreme Archangel, so it serves to highlight just how little interest Aziraphale has in returning. Taken at face value, it’s the Aziraphale equivalent of “not even at gunpoint.” But remember that coffee is a metaphor for liberty in this universe and this season. So what Aziraphale just said, in the language of Neil Gaiman metaphors, is:

I don’t want to go back to Heaven, I would rather have free will.

What does the Metatron do next?

He brings up Crowley.

Watch Aziraphale’s eyes before and after the mention of Crowley. He goes from confused to eye-flicking panic in the space of two syllables. Aziraphale already understands that his “no” is not being accepted, and that bringing Crowley into it can only possibly serve as a threat.

So the coffee, the choice, is a false choice. No one ever orders death. The Metatron has forced Aziraphale into a situation that looks an awful lot like a choice (it comes in a blue cup, after all) but it isn’t.

We definitely have some reliable narrator problems here. I’m going to presume for purposes of analysis that these cut-outs are accurate but incomplete, and that a more explicit threat about what would happen to Crowley if Aziraphale did not return to Heaven was made.

If we assume that Aziraphale has been made aware of a threat and is trying to hide that from Crowley, the rest of this scene reads very differently. Aziraphale cannot say, “you are in danger but you will be safe if you swear your allegiance to Heaven” or “I have to go, no matter what, and the only way we can be together is if you come with me,” but nonetheless he now has to convince Crowley to do the one thing he ought to know Crowley definitely doesn’t want to do all through subtext. Which we’ve spent an entire season establishing that they can’t communicate well when they are allowed to use their words. Disastrously, this is not a magic trick that Aziraphale can make work when it counts. Their failure to practice good communication means that, right now, when it counts most, they are not going to pull it off.

We see that Aziraphale is very hopeful that Crowley will pick up on his cues and play along. Obviously, he doesn’t.

If the whole riff about Hell being bad guys and Heaven being the side of truth and light is taken as genuine, it discards a massive amount of character development that we’ve witnessed in Job, Edinburgh, etc. (again, to all the genuine belief subscribers, I think it’s a compelling argument but it simply doesn’t account for the evidence). So if it’s not genuine, why say it? Again, to alert Crowley that something is Off, because Crowley should know that Aziraphale doesn’t actually believe that. They saved humanity from Heaven and Hell. They hid Gabriel from Heaven and Hell. Crowley knows that Aziraphale knows that Heaven and Hell are just two sides of the same coin. Notice again that Aziraphale glances out the window while he’s talking up Heaven; he knows the Metatron is watching, he can’t not defend the position of Heaven. I think it’s also worth noting that Aziraphale forcefully glances and gestures off to Crowley’s left (away from the window) when talking about Hell, and then turns his head to Crowley’s right (towards the window) to try to get him to realize that a representative of Heaven is literally standing right over there, just look out the window please dumbass!

When Crowley is asking Aziraphale if he said no, and we see the back of Aziraphale’s head, again we can see him turn his head to glance out the window. This is also when he changes strategies, and admits that Heaven could use a little reform. Because now there’s a problem almost as big as getting caught, which is that he won’t be able to get Crowley to go with him.

Which unfortunately makes the next part of this so much more heartbreaking. Because when Crowley begins his speech about being a team, Aziraphale wants to hear it. He can’t bring himself to shut down Crowley again, even though it could get them both in massive trouble. Notice that he glances out the window again during this, and the look of panic on his face. He begins to shake his head when Crowley mentions that Heaven and Hell are toxic; this can be taken a lot of ways but I’ll argue for the interpretation that he’s trying to get Crowley to STFU and stop saying shit that could get him destroyed.

After Crowley puts on his sunglasses we are in the “back half” and Sheen is doing a lot with phrasing here, specifically pregnant pauses.

“Come with me… to Heaven!”

“We can be together… as angels!”

Based on the pacing decision I am thoroughly convinced that the first half of each of these statements is intended to be the message to Crowley and the second half is always a qualifying statement to satisfy the Metatron.

Unfortunately, these pregnant pauses are completely backfiring in their effect on Crowley. The sentiment gives him hope and the qualifying statement crushes it again immediately. He is being taken on a horrible emotional rollercoaster with these declarations which are only further amping up his instinct to run away.

The only truly genuine, unaldulterated statement I think we get from Aziraphale is

“I need you!”

When it becomes clear to Aziraphale that there’s been an irreparable breakdown of communication between them and the subtext is not getting across, he says:

“I don’t think you understand what I’m offering you.”

He means this literally. Crowley has not understood that Aziraphale is offering him protection from whatever threat the Metatron has made.

Which makes this part extra-devastating and also absolutely in keeping with a major running theme of this season.

“I understand. I think I understand a whole lot better than you do.”

Your understanding and my understanding are different understandings.

Crowley views the offer to return to Heaven through the lens of his trauma. He understands what life in Heaven would be like. But he doesn’t understand that Aziraphale is offering him protection.

But Aziraphale just heard Crowley say that he understood everything, and he’s still going to leave. There might be a little suspense of disbelief here to believe that Aziraphale really interpreted the statement this way, but we know that Aziraphale isn’t always the brightest battery-operated candle in the drawer. So under the assumption that Crowley did understand him and is still rejecting the offer, rejecting him—

“Well, then there’s nothing more to say.”

Please pay very close attention to Aziraphale’s body language for the next part. He’s active, agitated, turning side to side, arms swinging. This is a very fidgety angel.

“No nightingales.”

Aziraphale is now completely still. He’s feeling that feeling. You know it. The one where your entire body is getting sucked into the pit of your stomach. The aching paralysis.

This is their song, the one that began their romance in 1941, the secret code for all other attempts at flirtation. Crowley has walked out on him before, Aziraphale has been stubborn and obstinate before. But they always came back together, sometimes with an apology dance or other rituals that belonged solely to them.

But now the song is over.

By saying this, Crowley has broken up with Aziraphale. We can see in Aziraphale’s sudden transition from fidgety to paralysis that he has understood it this way.

Then he turns away from the window so that the Metatron won’t see him cry.

The kiss was heart-wrenching already. But we’re not done with this analysis.

During the kiss, Aziraphale has a choice to make between two very compelling bad choices. This is the Job dilemma. But worse.

If he doesn’t kiss Crowley back, he will let Crowley think that he doesn’t love him. He will have missed out on this (maybe/probably their first kiss?) and regret it forever.

If he does kiss Crowley back, in full view of the Metatron, they are in deep trouble.

He seems to do his best to split the difference. I would even go so far to say that the awkward arm waving is Aziraphale acting for the Metatron’s benefit, to try to portray that he doesn’t want this even though he absolutely does (just not like this). The anguish when they break the kiss is absolutely real, and the first thing he does is glance out the window. Through all this he has remained painfully aware of their spectator.

He wants to say I love you. He mouths it. He breathes it.

But the Metatron is watching.

He can’t tell Crowley I love you. So he has to say the only other thing that has always unequivocally meant “I love you” when he said it to Crowley. He has to hope that Crowley understands him now, even though he never has before.

Spoiler alert: Crowley doesn’t.

My forgiveness and your forgiveness are not the same forgiveness.

One more point against the genuine belief fans (I love you): if the offer to let Crowley back in is what changed his mind, then Crowley declining removes that incentive. Aziraphale should/would have consequently retreated to his last stated position of “I don’t want to go back to Heaven, where would I get my Crowley—I mean, coffee?” [post-publication nod to @theonevoice for a great little meta] It simply doesn’t hold up to scrutiny.

I think a lot of fans were already making these assumptions about the use of the nightingale song so this meta may not feel revelatory, however, it isn’t canon (yet), and I’m sure I’ll find company that agree that canonization of this connection would strengthen a lot of these story points, as evidenced by how it is already assumed by many fans.

If you made it to the end - omg thank you! Please leave a note and tell me your thoughts!

Bonus: somebody already made the song connection here

~~~

if you liked this, you may also like:

Book of Life and what it means for Crowley

The Erasure of Human!Metatron

Baraqiel and Azazel

~~~

Recommended related (lie theory) metas by other people:

making the subtext text by @theonevoice

Aziraphale's Decision Matrix by @yowlthinks

Nothing Lasts Forever: META by @phoen1xr0se

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lewisvinga · 5 months

Text

the other woman. | charles leclerc x fem! reader

summary: after his engagement party, y/n realizes that she will always be the other woman..

warnings; mentions of cheating, sex, modern family reference

word count; 1.2 k

note; this song has been stuck in my head

‘born to die’ series masterlist !

f1 masterlist !

Y/n couldn’t believe what she had just read with her own eyes. She reread the invitation again in hopes she had misread it.

You’ve been invited to celebrate the engagement of Charles and Alexandra.

She felt sick to her stomach. She felt like she could just throw up. Lando, a close friend of hers, noticed the look on her face. “What’s wrong? You jealous?” He asks in a teasing tone.

“No!” She exclaims, accidentally saying it in a loud tone. “I-I just don’t feel good.” She lied. She quickly hands him the invite with a smile on her face. “I’m happy for them.”

“‘Bout time Charles proposed to her!” The Brit exclaims with a loud laugh, not noticing how tense she became.

Y/n lets out a laugh at some stupid comment Charles made at the sitcom playing on the TV in front of them. They were both underneath her covers, him in just boxers and her in a plain t-shirt.

After spending hours appreciating each other's bodies and Charles seemingly making love to her, they were still restless. Being restless was just a call to watch sitcoms together.

“C’mon, chérie, you’re telling me that Jay managed to get Gloria?” He asks in a shocked tone, watching a scene of the Modern Family characters.

“C’mon, look at those baby blue eyes!” She exclaims in a teasing tone. He playfully rolls his eyes, pulling her closer. She rested her cheek against his naked chest as a comfortable silence fell upon them while they watched the sitcom.

Y/n opens her mouth to say something when Charles’’ phone began to ring. He checks the caller's I.D. and lets out a quiet string of curses. Alexandra, his girlfriend, was calling. He was quick to get up and get dressed. “I have to go, chérie.” He quietly says.

She sits up in disappointment. A pout adorned her lips as she watched him pull on his pants. “You told me you were going to break up with her last week, Cha.” She mumbles.

“It’s complicated.”

“We’ve been sleeping together for weeks?”

“I’m trying, I promise. It’s just complicated.” Charles lets out a sigh as he pulls his polo over his head. He leans over to press a kiss against Y/n’s forehead. “You’re my girl, you know that. Don’t you?”

She glances up at him with a shy smile and nods. “Yeah, ‘m your girl.” She quietly responds, shifting around on the bed to sit up more comfortably. “Wanna come over this Saturday?”

“Can’t, I have an event with Alexandra and Arthur.” His response made her smile immediately drop and her stomach sink.

“Oh.”

“I’ll see when I’m free, okay?” Charles says with a smile. He leaves one last kiss against her lips before grabbing the rest of his belongings. “See you later, chérie.”

“Bye, Cha.”

“Hello? Earth to Y/n?” Lando exclaims as he waves his hands over her face. She glances up at him, his loud voice pulling her from one of the last memories with Charles. “Whatcha’ thinking about? You zoned out after I asked if you were going.” He asks with a laugh.

“Sorry, I’ve been busy.” Y/n nervously laughs, glancing at the white and gold invitation in her hand. “I mean, Charles is one of my closest friends. It’d be rude not to go. Of course, I’m going.” She responds a bitterness laced in her tone that the Brit fortunately didn’t notice.

“I think a lot of the others will go too! It’ll be so fun! I can’t believe it.” Lando seemed excited to see Charles finally engaged. Very much the opposite to Y/n who kept her eyes to the ground with a feeling of remorse filling her mind.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Y/n didn't know what she was doing as Lando parked his McLaren at the venue for the celebration. She felt sick as she clutched on the black Chanel Kelly bag Charles had gifted her for her birthday. Even the red mid-length Dior gown she wore was gifted by the Monegasque. All of her nice and luxurious things were gifted by him.

The sick feeling became worse as she entered the venue alongside Lando. The venue was decorated in a way that made it seem more heavenly. A large framed picture of Charles and Alexandra stood right at the entrance next to a white floral arch.

"Charles and Alexandra, the newly engaged couple. Cheers to forever!"

Lando read out loud the cursive writing underneath the picture. "Would you look at that!" He laughs, making fun of his fellow driver. He glances back at Y/n, noting her tense posture. "What's been up with you?" He asks, his tone filled with nothing but concern for his close friend. "Is it a boy?"

"It's complicated," Y/n replies, ignoring his confused stare as she makes her way past the picture. "Let's just greet Charles and Alex and then find seats."

They walked further into the venue where a couple of long decorated dining tables sat. There was a large space in the middle where Charles and Alexandra stood as guests greeted and congratulated them. Y/n visibly gulps as Lando dragged her over to the couple.

"Charles!" Lando loudly exclaims, causing the Ferrari driver to turn around with a wide smile. "Congratulations!" He continues, happily wrapping his arms around him.

Y/n makes eye contact with Alexandra who gives her a sweet smile. Y/n smiles back, ignoring the guilt she felt. "Alex, congratulations." She quietly says, "I must say, that ring is gorgeous."

"Y/n! Thank you." Alexandra replies with a smile. "That bag is beautiful. I have the purple one and I love it!"

"Can never go wrong with a Chanel Kelly, right?" Y/n says with a chuckle as Lando interrupts her to talk to Alexandra. Which meant it left Y/n to face Charles. The Monegasque's eyes widened as he recognized her red Dior dress and Chanel bag.

"Y/n, you look spectacular." He quietly says, pulling her into a hug. Y/n hated how such words made her blush and want to giggle. Her heart skipped a beat as she pulled away, now noticing how he was wearing glasses.

"Glasses? I've always loved them on you."

Charles chuckles, taking a glance at her up and down. That glance only meant one thing, that she would be underneath him after the party. She hated being at his engagement party but still felt such a need to be with him.

"I'll see you later, yeah?"

"Always."

The night dragged on and Y/n kept her gaze on Charles and Alexandra. They seemed happy. Everyone seemed happy for them. Her heart hurt knowing that Charles wasn't hers officially.

She felt the same heartbroken feeling as she watched him quickly change back into his clothes late that night. She still was naked underneath the covers, trying to catch her breath but he was rushing to get back to his fiance.

Y/n lets out a deep sigh as she watches him leave after kissing the top of her head. Water filled her eyes, laying her head against her pillow. She felt stupid for ever thinking that Charles would officially be hers. After all, she was the other woman.

#formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula one imagines #formula one scenarios #f1 scenario #formula one imagine #f1 scenarios #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc scenarios #charles leclerc imagine

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star-girl69 · 4 months

Text

Don’t Delete The Kisses

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Aphrodite!Reader

—-

synopsis: after breaking someone’s heart as apart of your initiation into the aphrodite cabin, you don’t think love is meant for you after your cruelty. clarisse thinks you’re ridiculous.

a/n: my friend was talking about how like insane this song makes her and i was like oh so this is genius

Don’t Delete The Kisses - Wolf Alice

warnings: insecure and very sad y/n ☹️, so like yeah all of that stuff, very ooc clarisse but IDC, i hate everyone but you trope fr, more talking about our feelings which we know is very hard for clarisse, the usual mentions of death and weapons, all that demigod stuff, more clarisse wanting, clarisse is insane as always i love her my ladybug fr, swearing, mentions of food, crap ton of violence, broken noses, whole bunch of blood, teeth get knocked out, yeah, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

“Well, did you do it?”

You wanted to sneak into the Aphrodite cabin silently, hoping your pink jacket would blend into the walls and hide you. But that was just wishful thinking. That was just something you whispered to yourself on the walk back to comfort your shaking body, wiping away the tears.

This is your initiation. They’re all sitting on their beds, waiting with eager eyes, greedy for a taste of someone else’s suffering, the comfort of knowing it’s not their own.

“Yes,” you say, pretending tears don’t rim your eyes.

You stand stall, shutting the cabin door behind you.

“I did it.”

Your sister Drew stands up and grabs your hand. You think she might comfort you. You think she might tell you Carter was in it all along, you didn’t really hurt him, it was all some elaborate prank.

Instead, she raises your hand up in the air and turns towards the rest of your siblings.

“Y/N!” she says, “Daughter of Aphrodite!”

Your siblings clap and cheer, smiling widely- one of the younger girls runs right up to you and hugs you, face in your stomach.

“You played him so good,” she giggles, pigtails swinging in the air. She is so naïve, so young, so unknowing. You wonder if you can give yourself amnesia if you slam your head into the column holding up the cabin.

You would do anything to forget this night. To forget the look on Carter’s face. He fell in love with you and you let your siblings guide you on what to do, what to say, you let them dress you up and and put pretty bows in your hair that he reached out to touch.

He thought he would end the night with a kiss, but instead he ended the night with your hand in his face, scoffing animatedly and asking “How could he ever think a daughter of Aphrodite could like him?”

You could feel his heart break, and you could feel your mother ghosting around the wind, you could feel the muscles in your face strain as your eyes filled with tears.

You wrap your arms around your younger sister and force yourself to chuckle.

“His face was so funny,” you say, but there was an unintended action to your initiation. Your heart broke too. You saw the look on his face- if that is how losing love feels then you never want to give yourself the chance to lose it.

Besides, it’s not like you could ever deserve love after this. The love your siblings crave but never quite get. True, encompassing, all-consuming love. After this night, after the hatred coiling up in your stomach like a snake, it’s just not meant for you.

—-

Everyone at Camp calls you princess.

It made you feel like a baby, weak, like you were nothing but a pretty face. But no matter how much you flinched at the nickname, grimaced when you found yourself answering to its call, no one stopped.

Your siblings all cooed and said it was so fitting, saying with curled lips that you were most definitely Aphrodite’s favorite. Your hair always fell in the most beautiful way, your makeup always stayed and looked beautiful, you know you can’t walk through camp without someone looking at you.

Especially after your charmspeak developed, you became a shell of yourself, scared constantly like you are just a walking knife, doomed to cut anyone you come near.

You’re not that different from your siblings- the only difference is you won’t ever lead someone on. You won’t ever make anyone thing they have a chance. Because you’ll never break someone’s heart again.

You’re still Aphrodite’s daughter, you still like to look pretty. So, you do your makeup and your hair, you revel in the feelings of eyes on you but you choose your words carefully.

But other than that, you despise love, your mother, everything about the Aphrodite Cabin.

But you suck it up, you let boys fix your posture, let them teach you to fight while they dream of kissing you, and you work silently and you wait to get out of this hellhole Camp.

You stay silent and you let them realize that you’re just simply not interested in a relationship. They’re sad, but their hearts aren’t broken.

Everybody calls you princess. But Clarisse says it differently.

Clarisse La Rue is probably the bane of your existence. She’s drop dead gorgeous, you would kill to run your hands through her curls, and she is the most talented person you know in battle. You’re pretty good, after all this silent training and the tips and tricks shared in vain, but she is a force.

She’s the one guilty pleasure you let yourself have. If only because you know she’s too strong to get hurt. So you let yourself look, keep a secret crush tight in your chest- only bursting out when you can’t stand it, and you just have to stare at her and revel in that for a second.

The thing about Clarisse is that she likes you. Which would be fine, you just tried to stay away, but she kept coming back for more and more until it became impossible to ignore her. It’s like you two were just doomed to forever be in love with each other, and you have to live with that and eat it like crow.

It’s not like she outwardly flirts with you. She just says your nickname differently. She caresses the words and says it softer. She doesn’t stare at you like everyone else- she looks at you. It feels amazing, your one guilty pleasure is to revel in her love from far away, but you make it clear that you don’t want a relationship and you never will.

Clarisse seems intent either to ignore that or wait you out. You don’t let her get close enough. You won’t break someone else’s heart.

Everyone calls you princess. You only like it when Clarisse says it.

—-

“Hi, princess.”

You don’t look at him, focusing on tying your shoes instead. “Can I help you?”

“Actually, I thought I could help you.”

You finish tying your laces, taking your foot up off of the bench and onto the ground. You grab your sword, hair tied back, tank top and stretchy pants. He looks you up and down. You do the same.

“Uh… Van, right?”

“Funny name so you won’t forget it, huh?” he winks, and you very obviously grimace.

“Ha, yeah.” You set your sights on a dummy currently not being attacked by a sword or spear and take a step forward.

“I noticed,” he starts, arm in front of you, stopping you from moving. “That the only weapon you don’t know how to use is the spear.”

You finally look at him. He’s wearing cargo pants and the orange camp t-shirt. His hand is plain and blonde, cut short, and his cheeks seem to be permanently flushed. He’s a son of Ares, pretty good fighter, but nothing else to speak for. Clarisse, at least, is the absolute best at almost everything she does- and she puts in the work to show it.

Van looks like he trains the minimum amount and gets by on his natural abilities as a demigod.

“Okay?” you say, wanting nothing more than to get away from him and go back to training. “I don’t get what you’re saying. And don’t flirt with me, either- one of my siblings would be happy to make out with you in a shed somewhere.”

“I’ll teach you,” he says, slightly exasperated. You finally notice he is, in fact, holding a spear. “Huh?”

You squint at him.

You do have a reputation in this camp. Part of the reason you’re called princess is because you’re standoffish and cold- people mistake it as you thinking you’re better than them. Really, you’re one of the worst people at this camp. You’re saving them from being tainted by association.

But every once in a while, someone will get it in their heads that soulmates do exist, and they’re the right person for you- and you’re mean and you shut them down, but that’s way before they fall in love. It hurts them, but not as much as it hurts you, not as much as it would hurt them if you gave them any ounce of attention.

The only person who keeps coming back for more sticks her spear into the ground next to you, fingers drumming against the wood.

“Van, you look fucking stupid.”

“Clarisse,” Van hisses, glaring at her. She glares right back, unimpressed. “Can you just go? Fuck.”

She raises her eyebrows. His spear hits the dirt before you can even comprehend that Clarisse kicked it out of his hands, and you have to admit- Clarisse is quick. Clarisse is good at what she does.

She pours everything she’s got into training- and pursuing you. You think it might just be a joke at this point, or something she finds fun, been doing it too long that stopping feels wrong. You would be lying if you said it wouldn’t be weird for her to stop. For both of you to stop whatever this is. This silent wanting.

“First of all, you are mediocre with a spear. Second, if Y/N wanted spear lessons she would come to me, right?”

“I don’t know,” you huff, walking away.

“Clarisse,” you can hear Van groan. “She was going to say yes until you ruined it.”

“Bro, she was not going to say yes. You’re welcome for saving your ass from even more embarrassment, Gods.”

“You’re just mad she doesn’t like you after you’ve been pining for years.”

She laughs, loud and boisterously, but there’s an edge to her voice, one of doubt, something like she’s scared.

“Oh, you’re fucking funny,” she says, and you can hear her slapping his shoulder. You stretch, risking a glance over your shoulder- Van is walking off and she’s looking at you.

But when your eyes meet hers, she quickly looks away. And you notice. You notice, but you do nothing about it. The way it’s always meant to be.

—-

The strawberry fields is the most beautiful place at camp. It’s where you feel something for your mother, because while gardening and plants are Demeter’s thing- finding beauty in the way the strawberry sits in your hand, the way the sun turns the sky into purple and oranges, the way the bright green trees stand out against that- it’s all your mother.

You can appreciate beauty here.

You see beauty everywhere, and you see love everywhere, but not the kinds your mother is famous for.

You’ve been picking strawberries for what seems like hours now, but it’s bearable under the setting sun and when you think about how good it will feel to finally sink into your bed.

“Y/N!” someone calls. “Princess!” you roll your eyes but stand up, turning around and putting your hand over your face to protect from the setting sun.

“Yeah?!” you shout back, squinting. You realize you’re alone in the fields.

“We’re heading back!” a Demeter girl, Sasha, says.

Your eyes flick to your basket that will only take a few more minutes to fill up.

“I’ll go back later!”

“Okay!” she shouts back, running off after everyone else.

You crouch back down, taking a deep breath before you begin ruffling through the leaves of the strawberry plant to find the juicy berries. You sneak a few as you work, shuffling down the line of plants. It’s so calm here. There’s no one to hurt. There’s nothing to be scared of.

When you stand up, there’s four figures standing by the shed. You gasp, bringing your hand to your chest, but Clarisse takes off her helmet.

“Princess?” she asks. “What’cha doin’ out here all alone?”

“Collecting strawberries,” you snort, full basket hitting your knees as you walk towards her.

“I see that,” she huffs. You notice Van behind her, and another sister, Carrie, a brother named Matty. “But what are you doin’ out here alone?”

You shrug, coming to a stop in front of the little group of Ares kids.

“Everyone else left.”

“It’s almost dark.”

“Not yet, though,” you smile sarcastically.

Carrie and Matty continue walking after they realize nothing fun is going to happen. You’re not gonna entertain them, so why would they care? But Clarisse and Van stay. You stare at Clarisse for a moment longer before finally looking away.

“You don’t have a weapon,” Van notes. “Smart to be out here alone?”

“Oh, relax,” you sigh. “We’re still in the barrier.”

You tighten your grip on the bucket and turn left, walking towards the shed. Clarisse is hot on your heels.

“And how do you know that? What if it had spontaneously, like, failed and shut down, or something.”

“Then I think everyone would be running around and screaming, because monsters would be crawling through camp. I would know.”

You place the bucket next to all the other buckets collected today- you’ll keep the good ones here over night, away from the animals and bugs and someone will collect them in the morning.

You stand up, rolling your wrists, wiping the sweat from your brow. You take the small cutters for the thicker branches from your pocket and throw it into the bin with the others.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, you can walk me back.”

“I jus’ think it’s stupid to be out here all alone,” she shrugs. You stare right past her, watching as the door slams shut. Was it windy?

Clarisse whips around, but sees it’s just the closed door. You frown, Clarisse steps forward.

“Sorry, Clarisse!” Van shouts from outside, and that’s when you hear the lock sliding into place. Your eyes widen as you realize what he’s done.

“Van, what the hell?!” Clarisse shouts, trying the knob. The door stays firmly shut. She slams her shoulder into it, but this place was built strong to protect from the elements, from all the little animals hungry for strawberries. “Let us out right fucking now, I swear, Van!”

“I can’t!” he says back, sounding sort of pained. “I just couldn’t get her alone!”

“Me?!” you yell, feeling increasingly trapped and claustrophobic. You shove Clarisse out of the way and rattle the doorknob, but it really is locked. “I didn’t do shit to you! Let me the fuck out!”

“For Carter!”

You take a step back. Your face falls from anger and anxiety into pure and utter turmoil. Your chest squeezes like it does every time you think about him. You carry the pain and the regret so heavily you doubt you’ll ever get rid of it. You’ll always be like this, rotting in your head, watching your beauty fade away and everyone give up on you.

Will you finally be free then? If you scream and take a knife to your face, make yourself unrecognizable, will everyone finally leave you alone then? Can you be something other than this stupid camp’s stupid princess?

But it’s wishful thinking. You’re a daughter of Aphrodite, and you were born to be beautiful, and you were born to be alone.

“Van, I’ll fucking kill you. Let. Us. Out.”

“Sorry!” he shouts, and you hear his footsteps in the dirt, running away while Clarisse screams for him to come back here.

You take a deep breath but it all comes crashing down like a dam breaking. All of the anger, the regret, the fear, it all comes pouring out until you’re sobbing into your hands in the middle of the shed.

Clarisse stops trying to break through the door. It’s painfully tense for a moment, nothing besides the crickets and the sounds of your sobs. You end up sitting on half-empty bags of fertilizer and mulch in the corner- although it’s not really used much, sometimes the Demeter kids like to experiment- it’s the most comfortable thing in this shed.

You’re 17 now, and you broke Carter’s heart when he was 13 and you were 12. You wake up and you feel your guilt like you feel the sun on your face- it’s your morning routine to stare at yourself in the mirror and know that you are the blessed one who doesn’t deserve it. You beg to be free, but this is your punishment.

“I’m sorry,” you cry out, “How does he not know I’m sorry?”

You never said it to him, of course- your siblings had told you Aphrodite would curse you if you said you were sorry, and you were 12 and scared so you shut up and you stared at him from afar, your first love and your first heartbreak. Could he not see the way you hated yourself? The way you hated everyone?

Why couldn’t anyone see that you weren’t a princess? You were a demon, so wicked you were worthy of being Hades’ right hand minion.

Clarisse sits down heavily next to you. She doesn’t say anything. She waits until the sobs start to ebb like a wave, until the worst is over.

“I’m sorry,” you say, one final time. Maybe the wind will take pity on you and carry your words to him. You wish it would, but why? Why do you deserve it? Your nails dig into your palms, leaving blood red moons.

“Why are you sorry?” Clarisse breathes, seeming more genuinely curious then demeaning. “Who’s Carter?”

You miss the way her lip curls around the name.

“I can’t tell you,” you moan, because Clarisse is the only person who actually gives half a fuck about you, and it feels so nice to have her eyes on you- not in the way everyone else does. They admire you, despise you, she appreciates you. She stares at you from afar and you both know that you want more, but she’s content to stare and you’re content to let her.

She laughs. “Yes, you can. I wouldn’t even care if you killed someone named Carter. But seeing as you escaped punishment from Chiron, and you only got locked in a shed, it’s probably not that bad.”

When you look up at her you can feel the mascara streaming down your face. You’re sure you look like a raccoon, and you can see how unnerving it is for her to see you- always so calm and put together- reduced to tears by a single name.

“I’m a daughter of Aphrodite, Clarisse.”

“I know,” she says, although it sounds like a question.

You stare at her, not able to say it, trying to convey to her with your eyes. You can practically see the cogs turning in her head as she thinks about the Aphrodite cabin.

“Oh,” she says. A few tears fall down your face. “The initiation thing- you have to break someone’s heart, right?”

“Yes,” you say, bitterly, resisting the urge to throw something and have a tantrum. You press your hands into your eyes, breathing heavily. “That stupid, stupid initiation. I hate being her daughter. I hate being like this.”

The hug starts out awkward. Clarisse places her arm lightly around your shoulders, starts mumbling apathetically that it’ll be okay. It’s not that she doesn’t care or anything, you’re both just foreign to what it’s like to feel this way for someone.

And it feels good to have someone touching you, so before you can stop yourself you’re shoving your way in her arms. She stiffens, sits up straight as your tears stain her orange camp shirt. But after a moment she hugs you back just as fiercely, with just as much desperation. She doesn’t say anything, probably because she doesn’t know what to say, and you can’t even comprehend your embarrassing, secret, unrealistic guilty pleasure of a crush is hugging you right now.

You’re too focused on the way she shushes you softly, her arm against your waist, the other around your shoulder- thumb drawing circles on your skin.

You’re too focused on the way she feels against you to even care about how awkward this will be later.

Finally, when night has really fallen and the wind starts to howl, you let go of Clarisse.

“Sorry,” you mumble, body locking up, staring firmly at the ground. Your face is caked in runny makeup- you feel as disgusting as you’re sure you look.

“It’s okay,” she says, hesitating for a moment before she stops touching you. “I, uh, I don’t think you should hate yourself.”

You scoff. Both at the ridiculousness of her stuttering and what she’s saying. “Whatever,” you mumble.

“No, I’m being serious.” She seems a little firmer now, like she really believes what she’s saying. But she doesn’t know you. “You shouldn’t hate yourself. Like, what do you even mean, you “hate being like this?’ What’s this?”

“I’m a monster, Clarisse. Literally, a fucking monster. I’m a horrible person, and yet everyone walks around and calls be princess because, what? I’m pretty? You can still be Aphrodite’s favorite and a monster. Maybe I am her favorite for a reason. Because of what I did.”

“A monster? Really?”

She looks at you like you’re the stupidest girl in the world. And Gods, coming from someone like Clarisse does that hurt.

You stare her down like you’re not about to cry. You squint so the tears won’t come, digging your nails into your palms to distract from the feeling in your stomach.

“I asked him to meet me at night. He told me he thought he loved me, and I laughed in his fucking face and said how could he ever think that I would love him? Who does that? Who is so fucked in the head?”

You look at her face, slightly twinged with disgust, and it feels good. It feels good to drive someone else away. To save them from yourself.

“This is my punishment. My life. And I hate it, but I know it’s what’s meant for me. I’ll never be loved. No matter how beautiful I am. I won’t let myself, I won’t hurt someone else. I don’t deserve it.”

She grabs your hand. You look at her, and she’s still so disgusted, so why is she touching you? Why is her face morphing into concern? Why does she still look at you like you’re this precious thing? Why do you like it? Why do you crave her like air?

“You don’t deserve this,” she says.

Why isn’t she listening to you?

“I don’t, Clarisse. Just- jus’ stop, please.”

But it finally hits you why she’s so disgusted. It’s not what you did, it’s the way you think about yourself.

“You came to camp when you were 12, right, so that’s when you completed your initiation? So, you were 12. You were 12 and listening to your older siblings. You were 12 and you made a mistake, and you’ve spent years and years punishing yourself over it. Most of the people at camp are blind, Y/N, but I’m not. I see the way you treat yourself, and that- you just don’t deserve that.”

“Fine,” you mumble, feeling a little breathless. “Maybe I was 12. But it’s too late. Everyone at camp thinks I’m a bitchy fucking princess.”

She smiles. “Well, you are.”

You throw her hand off of you and pretend to glare at her, but you’re smiling.

“You are a princess, Y/N, let me help you see it.”

Clarisse is your secret crush. She was a comfort for lonely nights, someone to think about when you were eating alone at dinner. And it didn’t help that she would stare at you while you imagined her sitting across from you. Clarisse is your secret crush, locked up in your chest and waiting to burst out like a cuckoo clock.

Clarisse is your secret crush, unrealistic and wishful thinking- but the way she looks at you right now makes it real.

The door clicks open.

“Oh,” Sasha, the girl yelling at you earlier says. “Sorry- I forgot my… uh…”

You quickly stand up, pushing Clarisse away from you. Sasha moves to the side and let’s you through the door. Against your better judgement, you stop and look over your shoulder.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow, princess.”

—-

The next day, after waking up and realizing what happened yesterday wasn’t a bad dream, Clarisse is really doing something this sweet for you, you’re ready to forget it all ever happened and sit alone as you usually do.

You stand at the edge of the pavilion, searching across the tables for an empty one-

“Y/N!” Clarisse yells. She looks at you expectantly, and you notice the empty seat next to her.

Oh. She wants you to sit with her.

As beautiful and sweet Clarisse is, you still can’t let her be anything more than your secret crush. But you can sit with her for one meal. You can pretend, and maybe that will hold you over when you eventually succeed in pushing her away.

Your head was clouded by her touch, her smell, her voice- you weren’t in the right state of mind to be making decisions about “seeing Clarisse tomorrow.”

You stop at the fire pit in the middle of the pavilion.

“Please, Mom,” you mutter, dumping almost all of your plate into the flames.

This is probably the first time you’ve really prayed to her since the day you broke Carter’s heart.

You set your tray down next to her, swinging your legs over the bench and under the table, settling yourself in. Her siblings don’t even look up, all busy eating identical bagel sandwiches- you squint, resisting the urge to laugh at the cheese, bacon, sausage, and eggs. Ares kids are always eating the most gluttonous foods, seeing as they train 24/7.

Clarisse glares at your plate.

“What?” you say, shifting awkwardly in your seat.

“That is not enough food.” And while your plate mostly is empty space, you’re really not that hungry this morning.

You shrug. “I was in a praying mood today.”

“Don’t care, go get more.”

You roll your eyes, but you’d be lying if you said her concern didn’t make your stomach twist in a good way.

“Okay, I’ll grab something on my way out.”

She hums, turning back to your sandwich. All of her siblings are intent on eating their big sandwiches, a few people at the end of the table talk in between bites- but the Ares kids take breakfast very seriously. They’re a bit more rowdy at lunch and dinner, but breakfast is always such a sordid affair, like someone died.

Someone else sits at the table. You look up from your plate, watching as Van digs into his sandwich, sporting a black eye, a bruised cheek, and a busted lip.

“Oh,” you mumble, cringing at his bloody, messy face.

You look over at Clarisse, notice her knuckles are split open. She feels you looking at her and turns to you, a bite of half-chewed sandwich in her mouth.

“Wha-” she starts, but catches Van out of the corner of her eye. She giggles, just a bit, and it makes your stomach twist. “Oh, Van, you are one of the funniest people I have ever met.”

Everyone at the table turns to him.

A few giggle at his busted up face, Clarisse smiles at him in that demeaning way she’s famous for.

“Move.”

“I’m not fuckin’ movin’, Clarisse. Go fuck yourself.”

One of her siblings laughs loudly. Matty, you recognize him. “Dude, you’re seriously going to get beat up- again.”

“You are,” Clarisse shrugs. “I’m serious, move.”

Van rolls his eyes and sets his sandwich down.

“Listen, Carter’s my friend, he never wanted to get revenge, but I wanted to get it for him. I know it’d make him feel better. I was tryin’ to convince him to go fuck up her bed or something when… well, yeah. I didn’t mean to trap you in there with her, Clarisse, okay? I know you’re fuckin’ obsessed with her, whatever, but she’s a serious bitch. And not even that hot.”

Matty puts his head in his hands.

The table is deathly silent. He looks around.

“Come on. All those Aphrodite kids are stuck-up bitches, but she’s just got a particular rudeness about her, huh? And, really, I don’t think I could fuck her even if the world was ending.”

“What the fuck,” someone across from you, Max, mumbles. A girl adjacent to you coos softly, and you realize that there’s tears falling down your face.

Clarisse puts her hand on your thigh.

“Van,” she says, her voice calm and even. She breathes in and out. “I am going to fucking kill you.”

Van looks over to Clarisse, and that’s when he finally notices you sitting next to her.

“I-” he starts, but doesn’t get to finish, not when you pick up your tray and throw it across the table- hitting him directly in the nose. “Holy fuck!” he shouts. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Gods, fuck-”

You stand up and make your way around the table, tears clouding your vision, and he quickly stands up as well. No one makes any move to hold you back or protect him.

“Bitch,” he hisses. “Huh? Come at me, princess.”

And you meet him, attacking like a feral cat, all scratching and kicking and hitting, a fury fueled fully by your anger and the beauty in letting it all go. He grunts and tries to hit you back, but they barely touch you.

You can see Clarisse out of the corner of your eye, watching closely, arms crossed over her chest. It takes you a second, but for some reason, you can see her face so clearly. She’s slightly worried. She watches the fight with an intensity, like she’s happy to let you fight him- but if he actually hurts you, then she’ll jump in. But more importantly, she’s proud.

Gods, does it make you feel good.

“Fucking- bitch!” he shouts. “Get off of me!”

He pushes you back, you steel yourself. When he sees you coming at him again, he punches you hard. You swear you see stars. You swear you almost met Hades, just for a second.

Blood runs down your face, gushing like a geyser- you groan, one of Clarisse’s siblings making you pinch your nose and tilt your head back. Matty puts his hand on your shoulder, and mutters something encouraging about keeping your head back.

It’s all a daze.

“Clarisse!” her sister Carrie shouts, trying to hold her back while Van scrambles away on the ground, yelling incoherently about his teeth. “Clarisse! Clarisse! You got him, you got him, c’mon.”

It all comes rushing over you. Adrenaline kept you sane just for moment, but all the pain comes rushing back, and you almost scream with how much it hurts. You double down, chest pressing to your stomach while Matty and someone else try desperately to pull you back upward.

“Oh, Gods, why does it hurt so bad?” you say, more blood gushing forward, even through your fingers. It’s running down your neck and chest, permanently ruining your shirt.

“Van has a good right hook,” Matty winces. “Ass at everything else, but.”

“Y/N,” Clarisse says. She’s in front of you in a moment, hands under your chin, forcing you to tilt your head back. You can feel your face is absolutely covered in blood. “Hey, it’s alright,” she says, so softly that you’re the only one who can hear. “Okay, I’ll take you to the infirmary, okay?”

Matty let’s go of you, Clarisse replaces him, arm wrapping around your waist, fingertips still keeping your chin up. You walk in silence until you reach the infirmary.

She chuckles a bit. “You’re good,” she says.

“At what?” you groan, eyes screwed shut. “Getting punched?”

“No,” she says. “Just… you’re good.”

One of the healers rushes over before you can even think of an answer.

—-

After your nose was reset, your shirt was changed, and all the blood was cleaned- you sat in the empty infirmary. Van was in a private room with most of the healers who were having a fun time trying to fix his face and do something with the teeth Clarisse knocked out.

She finds you slipping your shoes on, face puffy, a bag of ambrosia in your hand.

“Princess,” she says. “I told them it was all me. So, you’re fine. I made up some shit about you getting caught in the crossfire.”

Your chest deflates a bit. You were sort of looking forward to the punishment. “You didn’t have to do that, Clarisse.”

She shrugs. “I wanted to. And I do whatever I want.”

You smile, and she sits down next to you on the creaky bed.

“What’d you get?”

“Oh,” she sighs, hands on her knees. “5 months no dessert. 3 months of teaching sword practice to the little kids, that’s gonna be like Tartarus come again.”

“Sorry,” you mumble. “It’s all my fault.”

“I could have easily let the two of you beat each other to death. But I didn’t. You were too busy winning that fight to care about what I was doing.”

“I didn’t win,” you scoff. “If you didn’t jump in, the way he punched me, he got me.”

“You didn’t know about Van and his right hook,” she shrugs. “It’s okay. I fucked up his face a bit, but you did so much better.”

You’ve been permanently on the edge of tears because of the pressure in your nose, so when they spill over, it’s no surprise.

“W-why are you crying?” Clarisse asks, turning slightly towards you, placing her hand on your arm.

“Still a monster,” you remark, sarcastic smile on your face. “I shouldn’t have done that to him. I… I was just mad. And look, here I am escaping with no punishment yet again.”

You go to stand up, feeling like your heart is a hole in your chest.

She puts her hand on your thigh to stop you.

“I think… just the fact that you feel so bad means you’re not a monster. I don’t feel shit for Van. I’m glad he got hurt. I would do it again. I hope I get to do it again.”

“You’re horrible, Clarisse,” you smile. She smiles back.

“The only person I feel bad for is… you. You’re the only person I’ve ever felt bad for. Everyone else in this camp is blind, Y/N. But I’m not. Not when it comes to you.”

And it’s like you’re seeing her for the first time. The way her curls always stick up in that one place, the way her eyes reflect the sunlight streaming through the window, the way the rough skin of her hands is nothing compared to the bones inside that hold you so softly. The way her lips look. The way she calls you princess. The way she sees you.

You’re both leaning forward, you’re both just teenage girls learning to love themselves, because you’ve always loved each other.

When her lips finally meet yours it all comes rushing back to you. You gasp and pull away after just a moment.

“Sorry. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that-”

Clarisse grabs your face and kisses you.

“You’re not deleting that. I don’t care what you think of yourself right now,” she whispers, lips against yours. “Because you’re wrong, and I’m going to show you.”

And against your better judgement, you let her show you. She shows you with her hands in your hair, her hands on your neck, on your face, her lips against yours. You let her teach you love with just one kiss, and you decide you have a newfound appreciation for your mother.

If love feels this good, this beautiful, then you’ve been missing out.

This goes against everything you’ve been preaching for years. But you’ve found a new religion in her, you promise to listen to her and to feel what she makes you feel- no matter how wrong you think it is. Clarisse shows you it’s not wrong.

She finally pulls away for air, searching your eyes, but you can’t breathe when she’s not kissing you. She seems to like what she finds, because she smiles.

“You’re beautiful, princess,” she mutters, and kisses you again. “You’re beautiful, and you’re so kind, and I’ll show you what I’ve seen for years.”

Everyone calls you princess. But Clarisse says it differently. Clarisse says it like she’s caressing the word, pretending to caress you. Clarisse says it in the way you want her to say it, in the way that selfishly makes you feel so, so special. Clarisse says it like she knows you.

You were right. You’re not meant for love, it’s not meant for you. You’re meant for Clarisse.

—-

carter watching literally everyone fight over smth ridiculously stupid that happened when he was 12 and he got over 2 weeks after it happened: uh 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️

—-

clarisse when she realizes y/n hates herself: WHAT????? HOW IS THIS???? HUH????? like she just doesn’t even understand she can’t comprehend it

y/n after hating herself for like 5 years and pretending she’s chill: 🤗

—-

van after he loses his teeth: 😞

clarisse when van loses his teeth: LETS GO FUCK THAT BITCH

—-

clarisse being y/n’s new religion btw 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

979 notes · View notes

elizaleclerc · 16 days

Note

OMG PART TWO TO 'i dont know you at all' PLEASEEE <33

here to serve the ppl !

i don’t know you at all 🤍 (part two)

lando norris x reader

read part one here <3

summary: lando heals from bad habits as the racing season gets underway (warning for alcoholism)

song: drunk, running by lizzy mcalpine

author’s note: wanted this part to be a little angsty still but mostly sweet too <3 (prob won't do a part 3) also hit 50 followers so yay me!!

word count: 2k

The exhilarating racing season was once again in full swing, providing a much-needed break from Lando's reckless behavior and destructive habits. After his violent outburst where he drunkenly hurled a glass at your head, he had promised to change his ways. And true to his word, he stopped going to wild parties and completely gave up drinking. The apartment was once again filled with a sense of peace, and you found yourself back in the comforting routine of sleeping beside him each night. He seemed like the same old Lando that you had always loved, but you couldn't help but feel that deep down, he still struggled with his inner demons of addiction.

As the racing season continued, Lando was once again fully immersed in his career. Every weekend, he was out on the track, pushing himself and his car to the limit. You loved watching him race, feeling a sense of pride and admiration as he effortlessly weaved through the other cars. But at the same time, you couldn't help but worry about him.

You knew that once he got back into the cockpit of a race car, he had no choice but to be sober. You couldn't drink every night and still be healthy enough to be a Formula One driver. And while you were glad that racing forced him to stay away from alcohol, you also feared that once the season ended, he would fall back into his old habits.

But for now, you tried not to think about it and simply enjoyed seeing a glimpse of his normal self again. Surrounded by his friends in the paddock, Lando's infectious smile and carefree attitude returned as he joked around with his teammates and rivals. His world had become solely you and racing again, and it was a relief to see him find joy in those two things.

As Lando sat in his driver's room, getting dressed and mentally preparing for the upcoming Miami Grand Prix, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and pride. This was the second season that you were accompanying him in the McLaren paddock. And just like before, the team welcomed you with open arms, treating you like one of their own.

You sat on Lando's small plush bed as he finished getting dressed, admiring his neon helmet that sat on the table next to you. The bright colors and design always caught your eye, and it was a symbol of his identity as a racer.

“How are you feeling about today?” You asked him, breaking the comfortable silence in the room.

He turned around to face you, a small grin on his face. “Not too bad,” he replied. “The car felt good in practice and Quali, it's got the pace to win.” You nodded, knowing how important it was for Lando to have confidence in both himself and his car. He had been working tirelessly with his engineers to fine-tune every aspect of the car for this race.

“I'm sure you'll do great,” you reassured him with a smile.

Lando's face lit up with a wide, toothy grin upon hearing your words. “I hope so,” he replied, leaning in to give you a quick, tender kiss. Your hand instinctively cupped his cheek, pulling him in for another kiss, this one filled with more passion and desire. As you stood up, you wrapped your arms around his neck, drawing him closer to you as the kisses became more heated. In these moments, all the harsh memories of post-party arguments and unwanted touches faded away. All that mattered was being enveloped in Lando's embrace, lost in each other's lips.

As his lips pressed against your neck, your breath caught in your throat and your heart rate quickened. "I love you," you whispered into his ear, feeling his soft kisses and love bites in return.

His smile was evident even through the passionate exchange of kisses. "You know you mean everything to me," he said in a low, husky voice that sent shivers down your spine.

"I know, my love," you grinned, placing a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose. He had told you countless times that he raced not only to win but to make you proud, and every time it made your heart swell with pride. You could see the positive changes he was making for the better, and it only strengthened your love for him.

As he headed out of his drivers room towards the starting grid, you followed close behind. The atmosphere in the paddock was buzzing with energy and anticipation as everyone prepared for what would surely be an exciting race.

You watched from the McLaren garage as he expertly maneuvered through each turn and overtook other cars on the track. It was clear that he had full control over his car and was pushing it to its limits. With only a few laps left in the race, Lando radioed into his team requesting updates on his position. He was currently in second place, but with the leader's increasing tire degradation, Lando was quickly approaching the opportunity to overtake him.

You gazed on in the paddock watching the last couple of laps unfold. Tensions were rising, and on the second to last lap, Lando finally overtook his way into first place. You felt giddy with excitement, and before you knew it the checkered flag was waved.

This was the first win that Lando had earned while the two of you were in a relationship. You paced down to the podium celebration with the rest of the McLaren crew. Your heart was overjoyed as you bit your bottom lip in excitement.

With the roar of the engines still ringing in his ears, Lando emerged from his car, hastily pulling off his helmet and sprinting towards you and the rest of the team. He barely spared a glance for his colleagues before rushing towards you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. Through the metal fence that separated you, he pressed his face into your neck, inhaling deeply as if trying to imprint your scent into his memory forever. "I'm so proud of you," Your voice cracked with emotion as you held him close, fighting back tears. A mental image of Lando stumbling home from a wild party flashed through your mind, highlighting just how much things had changed in the past few months.

“I love you so so much,” His voice was cracking too, and as he pulled back you saw the faint glimpse of tears in his eyes. He grabbed your face and kissed you passionately. Embracing you one more time, he left to go up to the podium celebration.

As he ascended the podium, a triumphant smile lit up his face as he held up his gleaming trophy. He glanced down at you with adoration and blew a kiss in your direction. The sunlight bathed him in a golden glow, highlighting the lines of his chiseled body and the flush of exertion on his tanned skin. He cradled his first place trophy like a cherished treasure, his pride evident in the way he held it close to his chest. Your heart swelled with love and admiration as you watched him bask in the glory of his victory.

The weight of his past struggles and mental battles hung heavy in the air, unseen by the world around him. As he stood on that podium, basking in the love and admiration of those around him, you could only pray that he would hold onto this moment forever. He had endured so much pain and fought through it all with incredible resilience. This race win was a well-deserved triumph, a validation of his strength and determination a thousand times over.

As the excitement and chaos of the Grand Prix died down, you found yourself alone with him in his driver's room. The air was thick with tension, and you couldn't help but feel conflicted. On one hand, everyone expected him to go out and celebrate at the clubs in Miami as the race winner. But you knew he was struggling with a difficult decision - whether or not to join the party and risk breaking his sobriety.

"Do you want me to come with you?" You offered, torn between wanting to support him and wanting to retreat to your hotel room for an early night.

As he sat next to you, head low as he muttered “Maybe,” you couldn't help but feel torn. You wanted him to enjoy his victory and let loose, but at the same time, you understood his fear. Your hand intertwined with his, offering support and reassurance.

But as a tear fell from his eye, your heart ached. He sniffed, "I just don't want to put myself in a position where I could hurt anyone." You knew what was going through his mind - the night in his apartment, the pain he had caused you. It was a wake-up call for him, one that he hated but needed. His fear of hurting someone again consumed him, even though he had promised to change.

“It’s okay, I know how hard you’ve worked to change.” You knew your words could only do so much to make him feel better, but you came to a compromise. You would come with him to the club, making sure that he didn’t do anything drastic.

As the night wore on, you could see Lando slowly becoming more relaxed and comfortable in the club setting. He mingled with other drivers and even took a few shots of water when they were offered to him. You were proud of how well he was doing and made sure to let him know it. You leaned into him, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

He smiled at you, “Thank you for being here with me tonight. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

The two of you danced and laughed together, enjoying the celebratory atmosphere of the club. At one point, Max came over to congratulate Lando on his win and the two of them shared a friendly hug. It was a nice moment that reminded you that even though they were fierce competitors on the track, they were all still friends off it.

As the stars twinkled in the night sky, Lando's infectious laughter filled the air as he walked arm in arm with you back to your hotel room. His warm embrace and the soft hum of a familiar song made you feel at ease and content. As you reached your room, he turned to face you with a genuine smile on his face.

"Tonight was magical," he whispered, pulling you into a tight hug before leaning down to press his lips against yours in a sweet and tender kiss. The moment felt like it could last forever as the warmth of his body and the gentle touch of his lips stirred butterflies in your stomach. "Thank you for coming with me.”

You smiled back at him, “Of course, I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.” The two of you continued kissing until eventually collapsing onto the bed in each other’s arms. You snuggled up against each other as sleep started to take over your exhausted bodies. The Lando you had once loved had finally come back to you. You knew realistically he didn’t need you there at the club to make sure he didn’t relapse, but you were more than willing to support him. “I’m really proud of you, you know.” You told him as your head rested on his chest.

“Thank you, my love,” he replied, his words dripping with sincerity as he placed a gentle kiss atop your head. You were his everything, the reason for every waking breath and every beat of his heart. He would do anything to make you happy, to see that beautiful smile light up your face. As he held you in his arms, he couldn't help but envision the rest of his life with you by his side - growing old together, experiencing all of life's ups and downs together, and loving each other through it all.

#formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando x reader #lando norris #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1

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astraariel · 9 months

Text

eternal snow

pairing: sanji x fem!reader

summary: your love for sanji was unconditional, unfortunately, he didn’t feel the same seeing as there were petals coming out of your mouth.

word count: 3.6K

warnings: spoilers (?) just the name of a character from the whole cake island arc, it’s a modern!au so I don't mention anything about the actual arc!

tags: loosely based on “eternal snow” from fullmoon wo sagashite; angst; hanahaki disease; implied cheating; modern!au; hurt no comfort; lovesick; requited unrequited love

author's note: I think along with everyone opla is taking over my life so it encouraged me to finish this fic I started months ago lol. once again I like angst and this is soooo ooc of sanji he would never cheat I love him so much I’m sorry. on another note, I really like AmaLee’s cover of this song so you can give it a listen if you want to feel the vibe.

also, ignore the fact that Pudding is sixteen, she’s older than that in this. I couldn’t really think of anyone else to have/didn't want to think of a different character. just know, she’s of age. other than that, ignore grammar mistakes and enjoy♡

──★ ˙ ̟read pt2 here!

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You weren’t entirely sure how you had gotten to this point. You were certain that you two would be together forever. How you had unknowingly lost the one you love so dearly, you would never know.

Sanji was a flirt and you loved it, he could simply say that you looked beautiful today and you’d melt. Hell, that’s how you too met, Nami had introduced you two and Sanji wooed his way into your heart. You knew that he had you in the palm of his hand, but you weren’t sure you could say the same for him.

Sanji was an attentive lover. When he loved, he showered you with his attention. You could always tell that his presence was there whenever you spoke. He’d care and cater to every request you asked of him, not allowing you to lift a single finger. It’s who he was.

You were blinded by your love for Sanji that you never noticed him slipping away from your grasp.

The two of you were currently sitting together on your living room couch. Sanji mentioned there was a new show he wanted to watch, so here the two of you were. Your attention was focused on the TV in front of you while his was on his phone.

You glance at him, “Who’s that?”

He hadn’t looked away from it for more than 30 seconds throughout the last episode. You watch him out of the corner of your eye as he looks at you.

“Oh, it's the new dessert chef at the restaurant,” he shuts his phone off, “I've been assigned to help her around and show her the ropes,” he smiles, “It’s nothing, you want popcorn?”

You turn to him, “Of course I do.” He gets up to walk to your kitchen, “Hey, I love you.”

He walks up behind you and bends down, kissing your head, “And I love you more.” He stands up and you hear him rummaging through the pantry for a popcorn packet.

You cough slightly, “Could you grab me some water, Sanji?” He shouts back a response but you don’t make it out because you’re too busy pulling a petal out of your mouth.

♡‧₊˚

After that lone petal had made its introduction, it planted itself as a constant. Every so often for the following weeks, you’d feel something weird in your mouth, only to pull out a single flower petal.

You weren’t sure what was going on, but you couldn’t bring yourself to think too much about it. On top of the weird cough you were having, Sanji was also acting off.

It was small at first, just tiny, little white lies that he’d tell you.

Like when he’d say he was tired, that he was going to bed, but you could hear him on his phone laughing at something from the room. Or when he claimed that his phone had died and that’s why he hadn’t texted you back even though you were hanging with Nami at the time and he had replied to a video she had sent him a minute after you texted him.

That was just the first few weeks.

You weren’t sure when the white lies became real lies but it had only spiraled more. You had found that he wasn’t even bothering with lying anymore, simply stating that he was too busy to come over or that he didn’t even want to hang out with you that day.

Sanji would claim to be too tired and not bother to see you for an entire week, but then he’d call you complaining that he missed you and question why the two of you hadn’t gone on a date recently and then insist that he was going to cook dinner for the two of you. Those times were always the best. It made you feel like nothing was wrong.

It was pure whiplash.

You were never sure which Sanji you were gonna get that day. Maybe it’d be the Sanji that you loved or this new person who had taken over and wouldn’t even text you back for days on end.

Recently, he was your loving, doting boyfriend. Which caused you to completely forget about the flower petals you were currently collecting from your mouth when you were being distracted by Sanji’s full attention.

You were lying on Sanji’s chest recounting your day to him when suddenly the sound of his phone pinging cut you off.

A quiet chuckle made you peek up at Sanji, his eyes were looking at his phone intently, whatever was on his screen, clearly captivated him more than what was coming out of your mouth.

You sit up, his blatant disinterest in your day annoying you.

“Did I do something wrong?” Your voice cuts through the room.

He looked up at your now sitting form, it looked like he was just acknowledging your presence.

He lets out a noise of confusion, “What?”

“Are you angry at me? Did I say or do something that pissed you off? Because, please, just tell me, I can't take it anymore.” you pleaded.

You notice Sanji’s body tensing, his brow scrunching in even more confusion. He laughs awkwardly, “Baby, what are you talking about? I’m not angry.” he looks away, “I love you, you know that right?”

And suddenly, you weren’t angry anymore.

You smiled, “I love you too.”

He glances at his phone again.

But you don’t care, because he loves you.

Satisfied with his response, you settle back down but are interrupted when you begin to cough. Quickly, you stand up to fetch your handkerchief from your pocket, wiping your mouth swiftly.

You look back at Sanji, “I’m gonna-” but before you can finish, you feel the familiar flowers clawing their way up your throat. You walk out of the room coughing.

Sanji doesn’t look up from his phone.

♡‧₊˚

He was late.

Again.

You were exhausted. The constant lies that you fooled yourself into believing for the sake of your heart were beginning to wear on you.

The old hoodie you were wearing enveloped you in an attempt to provide yourself some level of comfort that no one could really give you anymore.

It’s late, around midnight, last you checked. The spaghetti dinner left on the table you had cooked had long gone cold. The Baratie had closed hours ago and Sanji still wasn’t home.

You sit in complete darkness, the TV is currently rattling off an old rerun of some show you didn’t watch. You’re too tired to get up and find the remote to change the channel so you settle on watching the old comedic sitcom. You’re holding your trusty handkerchief that’s become your best friend in the past months; ready to close around your mouth in an attempt to catch the petals of flowers that’d come up your throat every so often.

Your eyes glaze over the screen when you hear the door creak open. Footsteps were heard as a soft clatter sounded throughout the room from Sanji setting his keys down on the counter.

You sit up slowly, in an effort to prohibit any intense coughing.

Your eyes meet Sanji’s surprised ones, “You’re still awake? It’s late, you should go to bed.” he looks away.

“You missed dinner.” You look over at Sanji’s form, he’s stiff, you note.

“I stayed late to help close, sorry we can reschedule.” He brushes you off swiftly.

“Was she there?” The argument had already begun, why not fuel it some more?

Sanji whips his head at you, an incredulous look gracing his features. “Who are you talking about?” Acting dumb was never a good look on him.

Your tired eyes stare at him, “I know you’re spending time with her.” The venom in your tone was palpable.

You were over the lies. You were over the constant tiptoeing between each other, you’re honestly surprised he still even decided to come over. It would have been better for him to stay at his place and just call you in the morning to tell his lie.

He has balls, you’ll give him that.

“Do you even love me anymore?”

The silence that surrounded the room was upsetting. Of course, he didn’t, who were you fooling? You had all the proof you needed in all of the trashcans around your house, discarded tissues soaked in blood, and petals filled the bins.

Sanji scoffs, “I don’t know what you want from me.” He doesn't answer the question, “Why are you asking if I love you, you're being needy.” He stares at you before continuing, “If you don’t trust me,” he looks away, “Then maybe we should break up.” With a tone of finality, he turns around and walks toward the door, the sound of it shutting echoing throughout the house.

You’re left alone in the silence, the ticking of the clock on the wall muffling your coughs that were accompanied by flowers and blood.

♡‧₊˚

With the new development of the blooms coming out of your throat, you felt defeated. You’re not sure what you did in a past life to deserve this. You didn’t wish this on anyone, it was a lonely and awful feeling, physically and emotionally.

You’ve gotten used to your condition. It had been a month since you’d seen Sanji after he had broken things off and in that month, you would constantly find yourself leaning over the toilet bowl, hacking up blood and flower blooms.

You finally had the courage to look up what you assumed was hanahaki disease. It was a rare condition, but you were certain that was what was causing you pain. The only cure was to have surgery that resulted in the patient forgetting about whomever they had loved. That you’d act as if nothing had happened, that you’d live in ignorance bliss afterward.

Sacrificing your heart for your life.

After that month, you had decided to go to a coffee shop forcing yourself to get out of the house and do something.

So you went to Sanji’s favorite coffee shop.

Why you had put yourself through that? You weren't sure.

You remember wrapping your hand around the door handle, ready to walk in when a wisp of light auburn hair had caught your attention inside the cafe.

There she was. Pudding. The girl who had replaced you. The one who had captivated Sanji’s attention in a way you could only dream of.

Sanji stood beside her, you were certain he couldn't see you from inside, his attention was fully on Pudding’s face, absorbing whatever story she had been telling him.

He had never looked at you like that.

Did he ever love you? Were you that stupid to even see the truth? Had it been there all along and you were simply too blind to notice?

An “excuse me” had brought you back to reality and had you rushing back to your apartment in hopes of not bumping into Sanji or Pudding. You weren't sure your heart could take it if you were forced to talk to them.

After that defeat you noticed that you were no longer hacking up petals, but fully blossomed flowers, you couldn’t walk for a long distance without wheezing, the flowers constricting your airways preventing you from wanting to do anything. You knew you were nearing the final stage, soon roots were going to begin to show up, but you couldn’t bring yourself to go to a doctor. You had read that the longer you kept this from being treated, you’d enter the point of no return.

So, you simply waited.

Your mind was reeling. You never wanted to stop loving Sanji. You didn’t care about the pain that it brought you.

You don’t care that you still long to have Sanji tell you that he loves you. To tell you and for you not to immediately have to turn away and cough up blood and flowers.

You missed him. You yearned for him.

After Nami had found out why you and Sanji broke up, she went on a rant about how she was going to kill him, on how he could have done this to you. You weren't sure if you had ever seen her get so angry before.

But even after that, you confessed that you still loved him.

She proceeded to call you insane, but she simply didn’t understand. She didn’t know about how his eyes would sparkle when he would go on about a new recipe that he developed and how he was certain that it was going to be the new hit at the Baratie. She didn’t know how bashful he got when you complimented him on his food. How he’d kiss you like how it was the first time you were kissing each other.

You loved him. And you would forever love him.

But he haunted your life. Leaving you lying at night, not even allowing you to find comfort in your dreams since he haunted those too. When you’d close your eyes you could only mourn for the love that once was. To mourn for him even though he was alive and well, but could you say the same for yourself?

You had long accepted that you were going to die. If anything, you willed it. Never did you want to forget your love for Sanji. The idea that you would never be able to recall how he made your heart pound every time he’d look at you, would be a nightmare.

But you were tired.

In the months after the cafe incident you would go through phases where the pain would turn to anger, cursing Sanji, wishing you two had never met, wishing that Nami had never introduced you too.

But the anger would never stay directed towards Sanji. It would always circle back to you. And anger would turn to pity and pity would turn to sadness.

You wanted to cry and scream at the sky, to yell at the world, to question why love felt this way. Why couldn't he just love you back, why were you being punished for simply loving him unconditionally?

You suffocate yourself in the love that you have for Sanji. Sacrificing your every breath to simply feel the true and fierce love you felt for him. You’d cry until you were gasping for air, til you were choking up flowers that were clogging your lungs. You wished, begged, for it to go away. Wishing that you had never fallen for him.

But even with all the pain he caused you. You could never hate him.

You could never hate Sanji.

You can’t even bring yourself to hate Pudding, it wasn't her fault that Sanji was infatuated with her rather than you.

And you could never truly hate him for that.

The sterile white walls and the smell of disinfectant wafting through the air brought you back to reality.

Recalling how hours before Nami had found you on the ground of your bathroom, post-hacking your brains out from the various blooms of flowers that rose from your throat at what seemed like at every hour of the day as of recently. You hadn’t heard her call for you when she entered your apartment so you weren’t able to hide anything from her.

“Are you insane?” Her voice ricocheted in the bathroom after you had explained to her what had been happening to you for the last couple of months.

You were numb the entire car ride to the hospital as Nami yelled at you for being so careless.

“Why are you letting that boy kill you?”

Why were you?

Why were you putting yourself through this pain, knowing he would never love you again?

The recent memory reminded you of Nami’s presence on the side chair that was placed beside the crunchy bed you were currently sitting on. Her brown eyes met yours and smiled softly at you.

“You’re gonna be okay.” Nami’s attempt at reassurance was comforting to you for 5 seconds before the door swung open revealing the doctor.

“Hello,” she said your name, “you’re the one with hanahaki disease, correct?” You glance over at Nami before replying to the doctor in confirmation. “Well, unfortunately, it has been developing for a while and if you had come just a little bit later it would have been untreatable, so I highly suggest proceeding with the procedure as soon as possible.”

Your hands grew clammy. This was it. You were going to be relieved from this grueling life you had found yourself in. You would finally be able to go back to normal.

Normal.

Would it truly be normal if you didn’t love Sanji anymore? Could you truly live with yourself knowing that you gave up the one thing that has been keeping you going? You guess you wouldn’t actually remember your love for him if you did the surgery but your heart would know. Your soul would know.

You wished that all of this pain would go away. Longing to run back to Sanji, for him to stop the anguish that you felt. To have him whisper that he loved you and for you to not cough up flowers anymore. To know that he truly meant the words that he was saying.

You wondered how your life would have gone if you had never fallen for Sanji. Would your life still lead you to this very moment of hell that you’re living currently? You would think that hell would be hot, blazing with heat, but all you felt was the coldness of lies that you believed that spewed from Sanji’s lips when he spoke to you.

You would like to think that you wished you had never fallen into this trap. That your heart never fell for him, but you knew better. You knew that he had your heart from the beginning. You were doomed from the first interaction.

Wasn’t it a true act of love if you could let the person go? Wouldn’t it be the final seal of approval of your love if you went through with the surgery? The love that you felt for Sanji would be proven by this simple act.

You felt Nami’s hand grab yours. Her eyes were filled with remorse, a sadness that you could distinguish as the same sadness that you saw in your eyes ever since that first petal came to be.

Anticipatory grief.

She was grieving your love for him already, grieving for your heart, how you would never love again, how you would never love him again.

You sigh.

♡‧₊˚

You wake up to the soft murmurs of the television in the corner of the room.

Your mind was hazy, from what, you weren't entirely sure yet. It felt as if you had lost something like it was on the tip of your tongue, but you just couldn’t think of exactly what it was.

Guess it wasn’t important.

Your eyes wander over to your surroundings, the hospital room is bare except for the basic, usual furniture. Your eye caught movement out of the corner of your eye, turning your face to examine what it was.

A balloon with the words “Get well soon!” fills your vision, and your gaze scans over the hearts that surround the bubble letters in bright yellow hues. You reach over the side table to grab the card that sat under the balloon.

Hope you feel better - Nami.

Sad that you had missed your friend, you made a mental note to pay her a visit after you were discharged from the hospital to thank her.

A soft knock echoed throughout the room, your attention to the door opening revealing the doctor. “Hi, glad you’re awake. The procedure was a success. You should be good to go soon, but take it easy for the next two weeks.”

The procedure.

You quickly scour your brain for answers of who it was you loved but came up short.

Guess that was the point, wasn’t it?

Before you could thank the doctor, rushed footsteps were heard outside the room, hasty knocks piercing the air along with the clamor of the door opening quickly.

Sanji’s blond hair comes into view, and he stands, wide-eyed, near the doorframe. He was panting slightly, a sign that he possibly had been running before he got here.

He says your name quietly, the doctor gives you a nod before excusing herself from the room to give you guys privacy.

“Sanji,” you smile brightly at him, “Did you get off of work? Why are you here?”

His eyes shift over to the balloon on the stand beside the bed. “Nami told me about the…procedure.”

“Really?” you roll your eyes teasingly, “It’s not that big of a deal honestly, that Nami. Always the worrier, thank you for visiting me though, you’re a good friend, Sanji.” You look away before you can notice Sanji’s face falling.

You look back at him, “Oh, could you take me home? I probably shouldn’t be driving right now.” you laugh quietly and scan Sanji’s face. His mind seemed to be somewhere else, perhaps he was really busy at the restaurant. “If you can, if not I’ll just call Nami.”

“No,” he clears his throat, “Yeah I can take you home.”

You offer him a smile, “Thanks, hey I think I may have to fill out some paperwork. Could you grab it while I go change?” You begin to stand up slowly before he rushes over to help you up.

You look up at him to thank him again when you realize his eyes are watering.

Weird.

Your eyebrows knit in worry, “Hey, are you okay?”

He blinks rapidly while looking away from you. His hand lets go from his grasp on your arm and runs it through his blonde hair while turning away from you. “Yeah, I’m fine.” he coughs, “Uh, I’m gonna go look for those papers.”

He walks out of the room before you can respond, leaving you slightly confused but you shake it off before you begin to look for your clothes.

You don’t see Sanji standing outside the doorway, coughing up a flower petal.

#astraariel♡#one piece #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x y/n #sanji x reader #sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji x reader

811 notes · View notes

ghouljams · 9 months

Note

pls can we get a crumb of service top ghost knight doing a quickie in the castle stairwells i beg

I might've misunderstood what part of the service top we were looking for here...

“Thought I might find you here,” Ghost says, you lift your head from your folded arms to look at him. Even a few steps down you have to tilt your head to meet his eye. Your fault for sitting you suppose. You scoot to press against the wall, give him room to sit on the step next to you. Well, not exactly next to you, a step down, enough to give you privacy as you sigh. “Want to talk about what just happened?”

“Not particularly,” You huff, settle your chin in your hands, content just to nudge Ghost with your knee. You like seeing him all dressed up, you know he still has his chainmail under his jacket, you might be the only one that knows that. He’s a handsome figure even with it. It’s too bad he wears a mask for parties, but you suppose that adds to his charm.

You wouldn’t want anyone else to see the crooked nose you’d accidentally broken, or the lips that smile just for you. You reach to straighten his collar, and he catches your hand. Rough calloused fingers lace between your much softer ones. You’re unused to feeling his hands, they speak to years of dedication, hard work. Something you could never dream of. You’re almost jealous that he seems to tell the full tale of his life on just his skin. You sometimes wonder if you’ll even be lucky enough to appear as a footnote in your family tree. You’re sure they’ll be singing Ghost’s songs for generations.

“All those men just see me as a means to an end,” You grumble. Ghost hums, you wiggle your fingers in his grasp, tapping his knuckles. You try not to hope for his thoughts of you. It doesn’t work, but you still try.

“Is that why you stomped on the Marques’ foot and ran off?” He asks, amused, never judgemental.

“No,” You frown, stop your tapping, “I stomped on his foot because he grabbed my ass.” Probably trying to get a feel for what he was getting into if he became king. Just the thought of having to go to bed with that man makes you shudder. Ghost is silent for a long moment. It’s an insult against you, you both know it, but there’s little you can do at such a public function. Not like you can have your knight chop off his hand in the middle of the ballroom.

Although you’re sure he wants to. You’ve never seen Ghost stand for any disrespect against you. It’s comforting to know that you always have him in your corner. Certainly makes you less upset that he knows all your hiding places. You think just having him here is enough sometimes, just being near your pillar of safety. Your knight in shining armor.

Ghost twists to stand and face you, pulling you to your feet with your joined hands. “Come on, back to the ball,” He tells you, you pout and he sighs, “None of that, be a good girl for me, princess. Don’t wanna have’ta carry you.” Although the smile in Ghost’s voice begs to differ. You offer him a smile.

“Just to the bottom of the stairs?” You try, you know how easily Ghost caves to you. He releases your hand and you wrap your arms around his neck, feel him wrap an arm around your legs, another around your back. You’re easily lifted into his hold, your legs dangling nicely under his arm as you bury your face against his shoulder.

He’s warm, sturdy. You breathe him in and smell leather, steel, the last tinge of campfire smoke, Simon. You think you feel his head dip, the ever so gentle nudge of his nose against your hair. You press into him, tighten your grip on his shoulders as his fingers tighten on your dress. You haven’t moved, haven’t started your descent down the stairs. Why should you? You have everything you could ever need right here.

I love you, you think, I never want anyone else to touch me. You pull back enough to look at him, to meet Ghost’s drawn expression. He’s so close, just waiting for you. If you never see another soul you’ll at least have seen him, at least have loved him. You wonder what it would be like to kiss him. You slide your hand from his shoulder to cup his cheek, he closes his eyes like you’ve struck him.

“Don’t-” He rasps, you freeze, “don’t make this harder than it has to be my lady.”

“Of course,” You drop your hand, turn your face away from him. Of course. You swallow down your heart, and feel him start down the stairs.

#cod x reader #simon ghost riley #x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #knight!ghost #princess!reader #medieval au #I forgot quickie means sex #I saw service top and stairwell and just kinda blacked out sorry #complicated princess feelings coming at y'all

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crdteezv · 4 months

Text

Untitled - Han

Paring: !childhood friends to lovers! , perv!han jisung x afab! reader

Genre: idol! Au, smut

Synopsis: You finally reunited with your childhood best friend after 10 years! But, you didn’t notice how much he changed since you last saw each other…

Warnings: smut, rough sex, dub/non-con, somno, dirty talk, teasing, kissing, fingering, groping, use of sex toys, voyeurism, manhandling, overstimulation, unprotected sex

Word Count: 2.5k words

A/n: This was requested by someone a long time ago and I decided to post it now. This does contain CNC (aka consensual non consent) & if that’s something you’re not comfortable with please DON’T READ THIS!!!

One late night, you and Jisung were in a convenience store. He was up late in the studio working on a song with Chan. On his way home, he thought he should stop by and grab some food. You so happened to be there wanting the same thing. The aisles were really small and you had barely any room to walk around. You accidentally bump into him and he looks at you with a confused look.

Then it hit him.

You both used to be childhood friends and practically grew up with each other. You were also neighbors at one point and used to hang out all the time. Sadly at the beginning of high school, you had to move away. You both lost contact with each other and haven’t spoken since then.

“Hey, do you remember me? Han Jisung? We used to be neighbors and would hang out all the time.”

In that moment all the memories you shared with him came back. You were shocked, to say the least. Who would’ve thought you would reunite with Jisung in a convenience store of all places?

“OH MY GOD YES! I do remember you, Jising how have you been?”

He was so relieved that you remembered him. It's been over 10 years since you last saw each other. Even after all this time, he can still recall your beautiful smile.

“I’ve been good and I took your advice and focused on music! I am now a part of an Idol group. Thank you for always motivating me to become an Idol.”

“Aww of course! I still can’t believe you remember me telling you to go for it. That was such a long time ago. I was just a kid and would just be saying whatever really.”

"Well, how could I forget someone like you? You were my best friend - I was too shy to talk to anyone else."

Both of you shared a laugh. Jisung usually stuck to his close friends and found it difficult to make new ones. As he mentioned, you were his only true best friend.

“Well, I knew you would love pursuing a music career! I recently moved back here for school!”

♡♡♡♡

From that point on you and Jisung talked the whole night, he even walked you home. You exchanged numbers and would hang out when you both could. One thing led to another and he asked you officially on a date. You both knew you had feelings for each other.

You and Jisung got into a relationship not too long ago after that. It’s only been about 5 months and still very fresh and new. Sadly, after dating for 2 months, he had to go on a tour with all the members. So the majority of your relationship was long-distance. You still were learning so much about each other at this point.

However, people can change in the span of 10 years. Although Jisung was still the same kind-hearted and witty guy, you knew something was different about him.

Jisung became such a pervert for you and you didn’t even know it.

It only took you guys reconnecting recently to realize how obsessed he was with you. Before you started dating, he would sometimes come over to your apartment late as a surprise. Given how often he was at your place, you had given him a spare key.

One night he left the studio early and went straight to your place because he missed your company. He entered your apartment and kept calling out your name. He was confused when he didn’t hear you give a response back. He saw that your bedroom was opened a little bit and you were moaning out loud. He was taken aback by what he was seeing right now. He always would think of you in a sexual light but this was too much for him.

Your legs were spread open as you used your dildo. You let your imagination go wild and imagine Jisung was the one pounding into you. You were so horny you even moaned out his name.

He felt so hard after seeing all the things you were doing to yourself. He also felt really bad because he knew he was not even supposed to be here right now. He just wanted to watch a movie with you like he always does before he goes home. Jisung always loved watching movies with you, especially the cheesy romance movies. You would both make fun of the actors and how bad their acting was.

Instead, he was outside of your room stroking his cock to your moans.

He was imagining that he was making you feel this good. He tried to not make a noise so you didn’t suspect anything. It wouldn’t even matter anyway because you were too busy in your own world fucking yourself to the thought of him. He eventually came at the same time that you did.

Jisung realized how perverted he was jerking himself outside of your room without you even knowing. He quickly cleaned up himself and left your place before you noticed. He never told you about that night.

There are a lot of things he doesn’t tell you.

Sometimes you would send him some scandalous photos of yourself to see if you look good. You would ask him so you can get a guy's perspective on it.

However, he would secretly save them on his phone and beat off to them later. He always tells himself he will delete them and will never do it again. Yet, every time he is horny, he keeps on going back to those photos in his folder of you and gains so much gratification from it.

He was so obsessed with you that every little thing you did would turn him on. The way you put him in a trance from just your moans alone was insane. All he can think about is the first time he caught you getting off to him.

Now ever since you have been dating, you guys see each other less since he recently went on tour. All these nights you guys would spend without each other was so hard for him. It was so bad to the point that he would sometimes hide in the hotel bathroom and jerk off to your pics and videos he still had saved of you.

This was so embarrassing for him and he already felt like shit doing all this behind your back. But, he was too far gone give a fuck about it now. He always thinks about how disgusted you’d probably feel if you ever found out about his secret collection of you.

He just misses being with you in person instead of calling on FaceTime. It was getting frustrating for him and all he wanted to do is fuck you.

However, tonight was his last straw and he couldn’t take it anymore. He has been back from touring for about a week now. He took some time to recover before seeing you. He knows the moment he sees you it's going to be over for him.

Unfortunately, he had to be in the studio tonight with Chan and Changbin making some new music. It really sucked because today you and him were supposed to hang out after he was done working. But at the last minute, Chan told him he needed his help on this song he was thinking of making. The whole time Han was thinking about your moans from all the times he would touch himself to you.

He kept on getting distracted and barely gave any help to Chan and Changbin.

“Hey Jisung, are you okay? You’re normally not this quiet.” Chan said.

Jisung knew that he wasn’t ok.

All he wanted to do was go to your apartment and fuck the shit out of you. He has been pent up for too long now. You and him only had sex a handful of times and you have been without each other for 3 months.

“Yeah, I'm just a little distracted right now. Sorry, but I don’t think I’ll be much help tonight.”

“Hey, it’s ok! I know how tired you may feel after the tour so you can go home tonight. Have a good night!”

Jisung nodded his head and quickly left the studio. There was only one thing on his mind right now.

You.

He went straight to your place and opened the door with his key. He noticed you were asleep, lying on your side. Under the covers, you had your vibrator in your hands, and you were passed out on the bed.

That alone made him so hard. The thought of you using it and moaning out his name is driving him crazy.

He started taking off his clothes leaving himself in just his boxers. He gets into bed with you, wrapping his arms around you. You were barely awake but you leaned back against him not even realizing he was there with you.

He started grinding against you and became hard for you. He couldn’t hold back and started grunting out loud. At this point, you started to wake up. You felt afraid as the room was dark, making it hard for you to realize that it was Jisung. In your drowsy state, you half-awake, you thought he was an intruder.

You start to panic.

“Hey, who is there? Get the fuck off of me-”

You started hearing a buzzing sound.

It was your vibrator and he started to push it against your clit to try and make you stop talking.

“Shh sweetie it’s me. I am sorry you just got me soo fucking hard and I can’t take it anymore.”

You were in a state of shock and disbelief. You have never seen Jisung like this before.

“Mhmm I know you’re but I already came and I am too tired to do it again. Can’t we just do it in the morning?”

If only it was that simple.

Jisung's patience was running thin and he decided to not hold back anymore.

He covered your mouth and whispered in your ear and said

“I’m sorry baby, but tonight I am going to take what I want. And right now I need you to just let me fuck you.”

At this point, you were squirming around and yelling at him to stop it. You really weren’t in the mood for all this. He kept getting agitated and started putting his hand around your neck and began choking you. As he did that he started marking you and biting your neck and shoulders. With his other hand, he started to pump into his cock and get off to your cries and whimpers.

“You're squirming so much for me baby and I think it's so cute. The more you struggle, the harder you’re gonna get me"

You couldn’t believe what Jisung was saying to you right now. Your perception of him completely changed now. You thought he was sweet-hearted and nice and not such a creep and pervert.

He couldn’t take it anymore and started lowering his boxers and took out his cock.

You can already feel the precum that was escaping him and how needy he was for you. He started slowly pushing it in you. You gasped out so loud even though he was covering your mouth.

You forgot how big he was.

He also put his hands under your shirt and held onto them as he started pounding up into you. He also had the vibrator on your clit too. He started leaving hickeys all over your neck. He didn’t care what he was doing at this point he was marking where he felt like it.

You were still whining and crying from how hard he is fucking you and the vibrator on your clit wasn’t making it any better.

“Stop making so much noise sweetie, I already feel bad as is.”

You started crying at this point because all you want for him is to stop but he just keeps on going. He says such sinful stuff in your ear that you don’t even know how to feel at this point.

He started laughing at you crying from his dick,

“Aww baby, are you crying from how hard I’m fucking you? You’re so pathetic can’t even take a couple of hard strokes.”

You didn’t know why but for some reason when he said that you started to tighten up around him. That alone made you feel wetter.

He noticed it.

“Mhmm look at you becoming such a good girl for me. I knew deep down you secretly wanted this.”

You kept shaking your head, displaying that you were against this.

That just made him more hard and started fuck you harder and harder. You started to become so dizzy from all this stimulation.

Jisung was at his breaking point.

All this overstimulation started to become overwhelming for you. You wondered why he wasn't pulling out, as he usually does when you both are close. However, this time, he continues without stopping, still thrusting into you.

“ I am sorry but tonight, I have to finish inside you. I have been waiting for 3 fucking months. So how about you be good to me and take what I give you ok darling?”

At this point, you couldn’t take it anymore.

He took his hand off your mouth as you both came at the same time. You didn’t give a fuck at this point you were practically screaming out his name as he pumps his load into you. Both your moans were so loud you wouldn’t be shocked if your neighbors heard you.

Jisung fell back beside you and pulled you into him. He put you on his chest and wrapped his arms around you. He started kissing you all over and said

“Sweetie, I’m sorry for the way I acted out tonight. I just missed being with you these past 3 months. Especially being inside of you. Fuck I missed that soo much and having you moan out my name.”

You nuzzled into his chest and said “Yeah it's okay and I missed you so much too. Next time just tell me whenever you're in the mood. Tonight you really scared me. I hope you don’t act like this again.”

“Fine, I’ll never act out like that ever again and I am truly sorry if I hurt you.”

However, you both knew that wasn’t true and he would always come to take what he wants…

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zepskies · 27 days

Text

Wake Me Up - Part 2

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: A few weeks after you and Ben celebrate your first Christmas together, Ben is returning from another mission with the Supe Affairs team. When he discovers that you’ve been taken, he’ll do whatever it takes to find you. And then, to help you heal.

AN: Thank you so much for your lovely responses on Part 1! Last week's angst was very physical. Now let's get into emotional...

Song Inspo: “I Can Read Your Mind” by the Doobie Brothers.

Word Count: 6.4K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, PSTD, hurt/comfort, medical trauma and injuries…and a bit of Nurse Benjamin? lol

💚 Wake Me Up Masterlist || Break Me Down Masterlist

Part 2: “All in Your Eyes”

At first, it was all shapeless color.

It felt like a small eternity before your vision cleared, and you dimly became aware of being in a hospital room. Your steady heartbeat clipped away on the monitor.

You had an IV in your hand and wires suction-cupped to your chest. Your raggedy clothes had been replaced with a blue paper gown, hidden under the blankets keeping you warm.

It was a slow process, and it hurt, but you managed to turn your head. You saw a man sitting in the corner with a laptop balanced on his lap. He typed with two fingers at a time, which reminded you of your grandfather. His brown hair fell over his furrowed brows, but his beard was well-trimmed.

His head soon rose, possibly feeling the weight of your gaze. His eyes widened a fraction, and he hastily closed the laptop and set it down on his seat before he went to you. You frowned when he came to sit at your bedside, and even touched your cheek with a gentle hand.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said. His voice was deep and smooth. “How’re you feeling?”

You didn’t have the energy to lean away from his hand, but you did give him a look of weary confusion.

“I…I don’t…who are you?” you asked.

His green eyes went blank for a moment. His hand fell from your cheek.

Then he chuckled in disbelief.

“Eyes are barely open, and already you’re fucking around,” he said.

That confused you even more. You were saved from answering, however, when there came a knock at the door. A blonde young woman peeked in. She brightened with a shocked, but happy smile when she saw you were awake.

“Hey! Oh my God, you’re awake,” she whispered in excitement. She went to your bed on the other side and picked up your hand. It took you a moment to remember her name, but you did recognize her.

“A-Annie? What…what happened?” you asked. You didn’t recognize the roughness in your own voice.

Annie shared a sobered look with the man sitting beside you, and she looked down at you again.

“Oh, hun. What do you remember?” she said.

You tried hard to think…but you couldn’t. It was all blurry and muddled in your mind.

Then, it was incredibly painful. A sharp, piercing pain that permeated through your skull and rattled down your spine, waking up the rest of your body in the worst of ways.

You whimpered, and the monitor began to beep more incessantly as your heart rate began to climb. You uttered a cry of pain while you held your aching head. You felt the gauze wrapped across your temples, forehead, and under your chin, half-covering your face.

The man turned to Annie with an angry frown.

“Get the goddamn doctor!” he snapped. But he reached for your closest hand and held it gently. He met your tearful eyes. Part of him didn’t know quite how to comfort you though. His eyes flit over your pained face, the way you were gripping your head with one hand.

He brushed his thumb over the one he held.

“…It’s okay, I got you,” he said eventually. “Just breathe.”

You couldn’t respond. There was too much pain, too much confusion. The last thing you saw was the worry in his eyes, before your head fell back against your pillow.

Your world faded away once again.

Dr. Helen Jeong, the neurologist Grace hired specifically to attend you, had been with you for a while. When she came out, Ben, Annie, your mother Marie, your sister Louisa, and the rest of the team (except for Butcher) were in the waiting room. All of them wanted to hear how you were doing, as well as the doctor’s prognosis.

Ben stood with his arms crossed, and Marie and Louisa followed suit. Technically, Marie was your next of kin, considering you and Ben weren’t married. She was close to tears again, but Louisa was supporting her.

“She’ll need a few more tests to confirm, but it looks like dissociative amnesia,” said Dr. Jeong. “It could be selective. Meaning, she remembers parts of her life, but not others, specifically tied to the past few days and the past year.”

“And me,” said Ben. He was frowning angrily. “Why doesn’t she remember me?”

She gave him a patient look.

“Her skull is fractured, but she’s also gone through an emotional trauma, as well as a physical one," she said. "The memories she’s lost are likely linked to that trauma, and so, her brain is trying to block out anything related to that painful time. It’s the body’s way of coping.”

Somehow, that explanation didn’t make it any better. Something dark and unfamiliar had been churning in Ben’s gut for days, but now he was forced to reckon with it.

It was guilt, and it was eating at his insides, clawing up to his throat. He covered it up with a hot layer of anger.

“Aside from time to heal from her injuries, it’s important that she be taken care of in a familiar, low-stress environment,” said Dr. Jeong. She aimed that last bit at Ben.

“How long until she’s better?” Louisa asked. “Will her memories come back at all?”

Ben shot her a dark look for even asking that question, but the doctor bobbed her head.

“It may take a while. Weeks, or even months, but have patience with her. As she heals, and with therapy, her memories should come back eventually,” she said. She gave Ben in particular a more reassuring glance.

He wasn’t interested in being reassured. He wanted results.

The doctor moved on so she could schedule an MRI for you, among other tests. Annie went over and laid a tentative hand on Ben’s arm. He glared at her touch and slid his gaze over to her.

“Look, we’re here for her…and for you,” she said. Even though she withdrew her hand, she looked sincere. “Whatever she needs, just let us know.”

Hughie was just behind her with a sympathetic look of agreement. M.M., Kimiko, and Frenchie were quietly supportive, if somber. You’d recognized Annie and Hughie earlier, but the others were strangers to you as well—likely because you’d met the other two at Supe Affairs, before you took on one fateful mission that would lead you to Ben. And him to you.

He let out a breath and gave Annie a minimal nod.

She smiled a little, and she and Hughie went back into your room to say goodbye for now. They promised to come back and visit, along with the others.

Meanwhile, Marie and Louisa were talking quietly. Ben’s ears perked up to it.

“I think she should come stay with you, Mom, until she’s better,” Louisa said.

When Ben heard that, he approached them. His darker frown was back in place.

“She’s coming home with me,” he said, in a tone that boded no argument. He should have remembered that your sister was too much like you sometimes. Fucking stubborn.

“If she doesn’t know you, she’s not going to be comfortable with you,” Louisa pointed out.

Marie gave her daughter a look, one that said she could’ve had a little more tact there.

“The best way for her to get her memories back is for her to stay with me, in a familiar place. In her home,” Ben said, his voice terse and shoulders tense.

“But trying to remember is hurting her,” Louisa said. “She needs to heal from her injuries first. And oh, how about this? No one will even tell us how the hell this happened in the first place!”

Ben’s frown deepened. Your younger sister had been warming up to him a bit more since the Christmas holiday you all spent together last month, but it seemed she was just as protective of you as you were of her.

Fine. Ben understood it, but Louisa was just a college student, not even old enough to order a fucking beer. He wouldn’t have this little girl telling him what was best for you.

However, as he glanced at your mother, he also couldn’t bring himself to answer Louisa’s non-question. At least, not with the whole truth.

“It was retaliation,” he replied, “for a supe we put away a while back.”

Louisa sighed heavily. Her lower lip trembled as tears welled up in her eyes, and she bit her lip and shared a look with her mother.

“Why did they want her though?” Louisa asked Ben, sniffling.

He held the tremor of unease deep inside, and he thought fast.

“He had connections in the CIA. She was the only part of the team here at the base, so he singled her out,” he said. The lie rolled off his tongue without much effort, even though part of it did add to the dark churning in his gut. His gaze fell beyond them.

“All of this is a moot fucking point,” he said. “All she needs is my blood, and she’ll be just fine.”

Louisa wiped under her wet eyes and scoffed.

“You think she’s going to accept a blood transfusion from a supe? Look, I’m sorry, but she’s not the person you know right now—”

“All the more reason to fix this sack of bullshit,” Ben snapped.

He turned on his heel and headed for your room. By now, Annie, Hughie, and the rest of them had cleared out. You were dozing, it seemed, but your eyes opened when Ben thundered in, followed closely by Marie and Louisa.

“Ben,” Louisa warned.

“What’s going on?” you asked weakly.

Ben shook his head and went to your bedside. He took up your hand and didn’t notice (or ignored) the apprehension in your eyes.

“Look, I know you think you don’t know me. You’ve been through…a lot,” he said. He paused when he considered the hell you’d probably endured the past few days. His gut began to roil again, but he pushed forward.

“Last year, you got hurt. Bad enough that you were going to need surgery,” he explained. “But I gave you some of my blood, and you healed right up. I’m gonna do the same for you now.”

You saw that he was serious, that he probably believed he was telling the truth. You just didn’t know this man—this supe that they’d told you was actually Soldier Boy. Instinctively you tried to pull your hand out of his grasp.

“No thanks,” you said, trying to hide your nerves. “I think I’m good healing on my own.”

Ben frowned. He held your hand a fraction tighter.

“Look—”

“No, you look,” you said in frustration, and a frisson of wariness. “I know you think I’m your…girlfriend or life partner or whatever the fuck, but I don’t know you.”

Just as the words left your lips, something sharp and painful flashed in your skull.

You can’t. You can’t. You can’t.

“But you do. You fucking know me!” Ben insisted. His grip on your hand tightened enough to make you flinch, a whimper sounding in your throat.

“Hey!” Louisa snapped at him.

“Ben,” Marie said, more gently, but not without urgency.

He realized what he was doing, and he forced himself to relax his grip. He watched you take your hand back and look at him like he was some kind of animal. He also realized then that you were scared. Scared of him.

Fuck me…

By degrees, he relented. Heaving a sigh, he carded a hand through his hair and gave a short nod.

“All right,” he said, and he met your eyes. “I’m, uh…I’m sorry, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

He held your wary gaze until you nodded in acceptance. He took in your face, bruised, and still stained pink from the blood that had been cleaned away with antiseptic wipes. Your neck, arms, and chest were the same; your other wounds were stitched up and bandaged.

According to the first doctor who evaluated you after you came out of emergency surgery (Ben had already forgotten the broad’s name), you’d also sustained broken ribs and a fractured cheekbone, aside from your other injuries.

“And…what about the rest of it?” Ben had asked. He spoke alone with the doctor, just outside your room. Marie and Louisa were in there with you now in the ICU.

The doctor shook her head, offering a look of professional reassurance.

“No. There’s no evidence of sexual trauma,” she said.

Ben took that information in with a nod. Inside his chest, however, the clenching around his heart eased a great deal.

But even with that relief, just your battered face, and the way you were looking at him now…it was all too much.

Ben ignored the voice deep inside that said this was what he deserved.

He stood up, and he left you with your family.

While Louisa had to go back to her dorm for school tomorrow, Marie stayed with you that night. You zoned in and out while New Girl played on the little TV on the wall.

Marie caressed your hair gently, though she was mindful of the way most of your head was wrapped after surgery to fix your skull. If only they could fix your mind too.

“That man…” you trailed. “Um, Soldier Boy. All that crazy shit he was saying…was it true?”

Marie gave you a look for your use of language, but she nodded gravely, and with sadness.

“Yes, Ben was telling the truth,” she said. “He’s the one who saved you. Believe me, he’s very upset that you’re hurt like this.”

You tried to process that as you frowned in contemplation. He’d certainly been…pushy. And determined, like he could actually heal you.

It didn’t matter though. You weren’t about to let a supe feed you his blood like a damn vampire, or whatever Compound V-tainted shit he tried to give you. You weren’t Bella Swan, and this wasn’t fucking Twilight.

“Ben” was rough, and demanding, and gave off a real assholish exterior. Just before he left, though, you also saw his upset. He had taken in your injuries like he was angry, just at the state of you. Like he was mad that he hadn’t been able to prevent it.

“I guess he went home,” you said. Marie shook her head.

“No, he’s still here.”

Your brows knitted together. “What?”

“He’s in the waiting room downstairs,” she explained. “Grace made sure he had a special pass so he could stay with us in the hospital, just in case…”

“In case of what?” you asked. Marie smiled and continued to brush your hair back.

“In case we need him,” she said. “For protection, he said.”

Her eyes shone with sadness again, like she knew something you didn’t. It made you suspicious, but you were surprised that he was still here, despite what you’d said to him.

…Huh, you thought.

Thanks to the (fucking awesome) power of morphine, you fell asleep shortly after.

A week later, you were still recovering in the hospital. The shitty fact of it was, between the medication for your injuries and the risk of pulling your stitches, you could barely move. Dr. Burke was pleased that you at least had feeling in your extremities. One of her main concerns for you had been mobility issues.

Well, you still had to use a bedpan, and sometimes you missed your mouth when you ate pudding, but at least you could feel your feet.

Marie took the whole work week off from her job in order to stay with you. Louisa visited you every day she could after her classes, but she had a recital coming up, and you didn’t want her to lose focus. You encouraged her to only come if and when she finished getting in all the practice she needed.

And Ben…well, he came often. Mostly when you were sleeping. And every time you woke up, you saw something new from him: a beautiful bouquet of flowers, imported chocolates, a snack from the deli down the street from the hospital, a good breakfast from your favorite café in the city, or even several orders of takeout for you, him, and Marie.

You also noticed how your mother doted on him almost as much as she did on you, offering to grab him cups of coffee, or laying her blanket over him while he napped in the big lounge chair close to your bedside.

The guy just refused to leave. So you didn’t say anything about it. You just watched him whenever you were lucid enough to notice he was there.

As it became easier for you to stay awake, and to observe his quiet, but solid presence, the more your wariness of Ben bled away.

You soon began to realize that you were curious about him. If you really had been with him before, how had you two met? And what had made you get with a supe, let alone the original supe Vought ever introduced to America?

You considered him now while he dozed in that uncomfortable looking chair. His brown locks had once again swept over his brows, almost obscuring his eyes. Part of you itched to lean over and brush it all away from his face. If only you were close enough.

You could admit, if just within the safety of your mind, that he was a damn fine specimen of a man. Between the cut of that bearded jaw, the broadness of his arms and chest, the length of those widespread legs…

“Keep staring at me and you’ll wear a damn hole in my face,” he muttered.

You inhaled sharply, and his eyes cracked open. A small smirk raised his lips in amusement. You smiled as well, more in embarrassment at being caught.

Ben let out a long breath and rolled the cracks out of his neck, confirming your assumption that the chair was even more uncomfortable than it looked. You felt a bit bad for him, that he was putting himself through all that for your sake…for someone who didn’t remember him.

He turned to you in askance. “How’re you holding up?”

You shrugged.

“Okay. Pain meds are finally kicking in, at least for the hour.”

He nodded, dragging a hand over his beard. He knew that you’d eaten lunch with your second dose of the day not too long ago.

“You still hungry?” he asked. “I don’t know how they could give you that shit. What was that, some poor fucking excuse for baby food?”

“Whatever it was, it wasn’t pleasant,” you agreed, but the doctor had requested something you could easily digest, with all the medication you were on.

Ben shook his head and rocked onto his feet. He’d get you a candy bar or something. He knew Twix was your favorite.

“Um…Ben,” you said, halting his steps. He turned to you with a raise of his brows. You pointed over to the folded quilt at the foot of your bed. Your mom had brought it from home.

“Would you give me that blanket over there?” you asked. “I’m a little cold.”

You’d get it yourself, but it pained you to fold yourself over. Ben was gracious enough to go over and get the blanket for you. He even opened it up and covered your body up to your chest. His face was stoic, more or less, but there was care in his hands. You found yourself staring up at his face. He leaned against the guardrail of your bed and met your eyes.

“Thank you,” you said, in a near whisper. “And, um…my water?”

You pointed to the plastic cup and jug on the rolling tray to his left. He shot you a look, but he did as you asked, pouring some fresh water into the cup and handing it to you. His fingers brushed with yours on the pass, but you tried not to focus on the warmth of his hand. Instead, you took a few sips from the cup and handed it back to him. He set it back on the tray for you.

“What’d I do to get the hot nurse?” you couldn’t help but tease.

Ben’s brows rose again, somewhat incredulous this time. Then, he was unable to restrain a cocky smile.

“Hmm, I’m a let that one go, since you’re laid up,” he said.

His gaze roamed your face. He noted that your purplish bruises were easing up somewhat, to green and yellow. Your lacerations were beginning to heal. And before, where there had been wariness, he now saw curiosity in your eyes.

“Can I ask you something?” you drew enough courage to ask.

His lips twitching to one corner, he lowered the guardrail and sat down on the edge of your bed. He gave you an expectant look. You sucked in a breath to steel yourself.

“How long have we been a…a thing?” you asked, pointing between the both of you.

Ben quirked a brow. “About a year now.”

You nodded, though your eyes were wide in surprise. You actually began to blush.

Ben smirked. He reached for the phone in his pocket and handed it over to you, after scrolling to find his photo album.

“Does that look like we don’t know each other?” he asked.

You shot him a wry glance, but you took the phone and started looking through the album. Many of the pictures that featured both of you looked like ones you’d taken, just from the angle. One picture was rather innocuous of him sitting on a couch, presumably watching TV, while you rested on his shoulder and smiled at the camera. His arm was wrapped around your waist.

Another was of you glaring at him in surprise, mid-bite on a large chili hot dog. He wore a Cheshire grin while leaning in close to your cheek.

There were several more than you flipped through, but each one made you sting with the unfamiliarity of it all. You couldn’t remember any of this, but it was undeniable what you and Ben were to each other.

Then you happened on a picture of just you, fresh out of the shower with a towel barely wrapped around you. You looked annoyed, but by the evidence of your smile, also amused that he’d surprised you with the picture.

Your blush intensified as you scrolled past that one. Then you encountered more pictures of you and him, each position filled with more bare flesh—and even more compromising than the next. You refused to press play on any of the videos.

“Oookay,” you said with a full flush heating your face and neck, and the tips of your ears. You minimized the album and all but tossed the phone back at him.

Ben’s smirk had deepened the longer he watched you peruse through the pictures. Now he chuckled and pocketed his phone.

“Like what you see, huh, sweetheart?” he couldn’t help but tease.

Frankly, you were adorable, getting all embarrassed, crossing your arms and pulling the blanket up to your neck. You shot him a look of warning.

What, you could eye him like a honey-glazed ham, flirt with him even, but you couldn’t take a little on the return side?

Ben chuckled some more and reached for your hand, to uncross your arms. You allowed it with a thinly veiled wariness. You weren’t afraid of him…anymore. But that didn’t mean there was no reason to keep your guard up around this guy.

Meanwhile, Ben actually struggled to figure out what he wanted to say to you. Something that wouldn’t put you off, or come off too strong. This was just too fucking strange…

He met your gaze with a heavy exhale.

“You’re going to be let out of here soon enough,” he said. “You don’t need to be scared of me. I’m not gonna hurt you. Matter of fact, I saved you.”

I’ve saved you more times than I can fucking count at this point, he thought wryly.

You stared back at him in contemplation. He sensed you were listening, really trying to hear him.

“You do care about me, don’t you?” you asked, almost in wonder.

Ben didn’t answer you right away. Your question took him off guard a bit, but he also found himself meeting your gaze.

“I think that’s pretty fucking obvious,” he said. You frowned at him then.

“Not entirely," you said. "Not if you don’t say it, Romeo.”

Ben stilled. Against his will, he remembered the last real words he’d said to you before this nightmare began.

“I love you,” you’d said. He could hear your pretty smile through the phone. “Just wanted to make sure you knew that.”

“Mhmm,” Ben replied, smiling himself. “I’ll see you soon, baby doll.”

He could also hear your disappointment, there in your brief silence.

“Come on, say it,” you implored.

Ben restrained a sigh. He cast a subtle look from the corner of his eye, watching Butcher, M.M., and Kimiko loading the car with their weapons, along with the supe they’d captured. They were all too close for comfort.

“Say what?” Ben asked, feigning ignorance. Your sigh reached him, stinging him.

“You know exactly what,” you replied.

He knew what you wanted, but he still didn’t give it to you.

He didn’t allow himself.

Now, he brushed a thumb over the back of your hand, and he sighed. Sometimes, regret weighed just as bad as guilt, even if you couldn’t admit to either one.

His gaze now slid up to yours.

“Well, I do… I care about you,” Ben said.

You’re fucking mine, his selfish heart added. He just didn’t think you’d react well to that admission.

“What do you say about coming home with me?” he asked. “I think being around all your stuff will help you…get better.”

You debated his proposition, and you realized his idea made sense. If this man was really your boyfriend, and you’d been living with him for a year…then maybe you could trust him.

Just not entirely.

“I want my mom to come too,” you said.

Ben smiled. It was a small, but true smile, and it took you by surprise. But you only felt your face getting warm again when he pressed his lips to the back of your hand.

“Yeah, she can come help me take care of you, ‘til you’re feeling better,” he said.

You regarded him for a moment, still wondering if you could trust him. The longer you stared into his eyes, the more you found yourself relenting.

“Okay,” you agreed. “I’ll go with you.”

After you were finally discharged from the hospital, Ben drove you and Marie out of the city to his apartment in Scarsdale. Technically, it was your apartment too.

He promised that it had been fitted with a much better security system, now with motion cameras around the apartment, and sensors on the roof. (You didn’t know that Hughie would have to explain to Ben how all that shit worked on his phone.)

The apartment itself was familiar to you, but it felt fuzzy in your mind. Like you had a dream of being here, living a life that wasn’t yours.

Thanks to the stairs, Ben left your bags at the foot of them, before he carefully maneuvered you into his arms without pressing on any of your stitches. You sucked in a shaky breath and held onto his shoulders, squeezing your eyes tight for a moment as the movement jostled your sense of equilibrium.

“You okay?” he asked. You blinked your eyes open and met his. His brows were furrowed in concern, but it was the intensity of his eyes that stole your breath. Part of you wanted to smile, half out of nerves, but you tempered it.

“Peachy,” you replied.

His lips twitched. He then moved carefully up the stairs.

He set you back down on your feet once he reached the top, at your insistence. Marie came in from behind with her suitcase and your forearm crutch, but Ben still kept a supporting arm around your waist.

“I’ve got it,” you told him, a bit nervous and hasty to escape his hold.

He released you, and reluctantly watched you head further into the apartment on your own two feet (and crutch). You wandered into each room like you were looking for a damn portal into Narnia.

It was hard for Ben to watch you like this. With a sigh, he went back downstairs to grab the rest of your things. He set them down in the living room while you ambled off into the guest room. Marie touched his arm in comfort.

“It’ll be okay, honey,” she said.

She’d developed a soft spot for Ben not too long after meeting him. And though he’d never admitted it, the sentiment was reciprocated.

He didn’t answer her, but after a moment, he nodded. She rubbed his arm with a faint smile and went to check on you.

Marie soon found you in the office you and Ben shared. It didn’t look like he used this room often, while your desk was covered in papers and files. It did, however, smell like his cologne in here.

Or, well, the scent was masculine and woodsy—like sandalwood and spice (and a hint of weed, as evidenced from the ashtray on his desk). You had to assume the scent belonged to him, even though you didn’t think he’d worn cologne at all in the hospital. Or maybe you just inherently recognized it as his.

Huh. Smell is the strongest sense, you mused to yourself.

The thought of you remembering anything at all from what you’d lost had you the slightest bit excited, and nervous. Dr. Jeong said you’d been through a terrible trauma. The evidence of it now littered your body and had nearly broken you. So you were fairly certain that there were things you didn’t want to remember.

The touch of your mother’s hand on your shoulder had you jolting. You breathed in relief when you saw her. Her eyes widened and she held up placating hands.

“Oh! I’m sorry,” she said. “You okay?”

You nodded, though you continued to take in your surroundings with a small frown. She helped you sit in one of the office chairs, as your strength was already waning.

“It seems like everything he said was true. It’s just…it’s a lot,” you said.

“Of course it is,” said Marie. “But if it helps, you seemed very happy here. You were just glowing all night with him at the Christmas party.”

Great, yet another event that was entirely blank in your mind. If you couldn’t remember celebrating your favorite holiday, then what was the point? You huffed.

“I just find it hard to believe that I’d end up with a supe,” you admitted. You worked at Supe Affairs for God’s sake.

Marie only laughed and rubbed your back.

“Well, you found a good one,” she said.

A good one, huh? you shook your head in true wonder.

Now that was food for thought.

When you first arrived, Ben had led you to the master bedroom and said it was your room. So why the fuck was he climbing into bed with you?

“Excuse me,” you frowned at him, drawing the blankets closer over your body. You only had on a large shirt over your underwear. It was how you preferred to dress for bed, and it was easier than pulling a pair of shorts over the healing scars on your legs.

Ben had on a gray shirt and some plaid pajama pants. He’d shucked off his old man loafers before making the right side of the bed dip with his weight. He raised a brow at you.

“What?” he asked.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you asked.

“Going to bed, sweetheart. Been a long fucking week,” he retorted.

“I thought this was my bed,” you said.

“It’s our bed,” he corrected. He grabbed the edge of the blanket to pull some of it towards him, but you pulled it tighter against you.

“Look,” you said flatly. “I agreed to come here and stay with you, but I didn’t agree to this kind of close quarters.”

Ben stared back at you in annoyance and willed his temper not to snap. So fucking what if he shared the bed with you? It was a California king. The odds of your bodies even touching were slim to none.

However, he saw that stubborn look in your eyes. It was all too familiar.

Christ on a cross. He forgot how goddamn difficult you were in the beginning.

And really, you two were at the beginning, all over again. He’d gotten you to trust him, slightly, but he knew the rest would take time.

Is this really fucking worth it? came an insidious thought deep inside. The selfish part that had ruled for most of his life.

Then, he spied the silver Rolex on his nightstand—the one you’d gifted him for Christmas, along with the photo album that you’d put together for him. It included the only pictures he kept of his mother, and new ones you’d made with him. They were pictures you’d collected and captured of your life together so far.

With a deep sigh, Ben wordlessly got out of bed. He grabbed up his pillow and a throw blanket that had slid to the floor, and he made his way to the living room. Marie was taking up the only guest bedroom, so he supposed he was relegated to the couch in his own home. How the fuck did that happen?

He sat down heavily in the middle of the couch and had to take some deep breaths. His head slowly fell into his hands, elbows resting on his knees. With both hands, he tried to rub the exhaustion and frustration from his face.

There were words he couldn’t say. However, within the safety of his mind, he was forced to reckon with it.

This was his fault. He knew it, down to his bones.

It was all really his fucking fault.

He should’ve gotten you a protective security detail from the beginning. He just didn’t think anyone would have the balls to…

Ben breathed past the tightness in his chest that was once again clawing at his throat.

Well, this fucking blows like a cheap whore, he thought.

And as you might expect, he slept fitfully that night.

The next morning, you winced at the ache in your head that was now customary for you. You had practically drowned in this giant-ass bed, but the reality was, you’d barely slept. You just couldn’t get comfortable enough to stay asleep.

You didn’t know if it was because it was an unfamiliar place, or because you now had a lower dose of pain meds than you’d been given in the hospital, or if it was because there was just something missing here.

You sighed and hauled yourself out of bed to freshen up. Really, you should’ve waited for your mother or Ben to help you out of bed, but you weren’t used to being incapacitated like this. And even when you were down, it had been ingrained in you (through your father’s special brand of “parenting”) to play through the pain.

So you grabbed your crutch from beside the bed, and somehow you managed to make it to the bathroom by yourself.

After dressing in sweatpants, a bra, and a tank top, you padded out into the hall. Your mom was still sleeping, but you found Ben in the living room.

He was sprawled out across the couch. Half the covers had slipped off his body and pooled on the floor. Again, you tried not to admire the length and broadness of his form, and the way that shirt stretched across his chest and arms.

His arm was curled across his closed eyes, but he lowered it when he heard you approaching.

His eyes were a bit red and bleary. It didn’t look like he’d slept very well either. You felt bad for that, as you leaned on the back of the couch to greet him.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” you teased him a little. “You slept like shit out here, didn’t you?”

“What was your first damn clue?” he groused. You had a feeling he was grumpy in the morning, regardless of how well he slept.

“Okay, I’m sorry about that,” you said. Even though you had every right to sleep alone, you still felt bad for making him sleep out here. “How about I make us some coffee?”

He nodded with a grunt. You smiled and teetered only slightly on your way to the kitchen. Ben frowned as he realized it.

“You shouldn’t be walking around like that yet,” he called after you.

He forced himself to get off the couch, rolling to his feet. You shot him a stubborn look.

“I’m fine,” you said.

Ben’s frown deepened with annoyance.

…Right. Okay, you weren’t exactly fine.

You were still exhausted. Still felt like utter crap, as stiffness pulled at your muscles and pain at your stitches and broken ribs. And, oh yes, your head was still broken.

But, this was the most mobile you’d been in a few weeks. You were determined to do at least one normal, productive thing today. Even if it was just making coffee, then you were going to count that as a win.

By the time Ben joined you, the coffee was done percolating and you handed him a mug. He took a sip before he remembered to tell you…no cream.

He looked into the mug in wonder. You’d actually made his coffee with sugar, no cream. Just like he liked it.

Noticing the look on his face, you paused.

“Oh, sorry. I forgot to ask how you take it.”

“No,” he said, sitting across from you at the breakfast bar. “It’s just right.”

You blinked in surprise, but then you shrugged and sipped at your own cup of coffee, which had both cream and sugar. While you were preoccupied with brainstorming where to order in for breakfast, Ben allowed himself to smile a little.

You were in there, somewhere.

He just needed to help you come out.

AN: See? I promise, there's hope. 💚

(But there's also still drama ahead...)

Next Time:

“We’re not gonna have this discussion again. You need to fucking eat,” he said. “I could feed you, though I promise you’re not gonna like it.”

His surly, frowning face was annoying you. His deep voice was annoying you. His tall, ridiculous wall-of-man body in your line of vision was annoying you, clothed in a rumpled shirt and the sweatpants he’d slept in.

Everything about him annoyed you right now.

But that could also have something to do with the pounding ache in the back of your skull, radiating forward and between your eyes.

“Bro, I’m on like, three kinds of medication,” you replied in weary irritation. “With what appetite do you expect me to eat?”

Bro? His eyebrow twitched.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 3

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Break Me Down Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BMD/Series Tag List (Part 1):

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26

@spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@mrsjenniferwinchester @lyarr24 @xoxovienna @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28

@nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022

@emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @theonlymaninthesky

@kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun

@lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420

@tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67 @deansbbyx

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tarjapearce · 9 months

Note

small request ^^

for the soccer family, in gabis early toddler days, Miguel and wife!reader still nervous and getting used to be parents of their baby growing and changing. Miguel firsts long shift at work in awhile and comes home worried about his girls, to find wife doing Gabis hair humming peacefully to her as they sit in comfortable silence

hopefully that make sense, if too much don’t worry about writing it ty :)

Hope it worths the wait 🥹✨

Ever since you and Miguel became first time parents, the initial panicky state you both lived in were slowly but surely easing as Gabriella turned bigger and healthier.

If she was crying out of nowhere? Doctor. Her poop wasn't the right color? Doctor. She refusing her baby formula? Doctor.

You had certainly ran to the hospital the first time Gabriella cried so hard she forgot to breathe, teary eyed and panicky, Miguel had to fly from his work to go to the hospital to meet you, only to be meekly reprimanded by the doctor that at this point seemed to know you both.

"She's fine. It's a completely normal thing they do, they just forget how to breathe for a moment. She's fine."

The pediatrician had told you, You both were just happy that little Gabi was fine and that it was all a scare.

------

His thoughts couldn't help but wander towards you and Gabi. We're you fine? Was everything fine? You hadn't called, which divided his thoughts in 'is she okay?' and 'She's gonna be fine."

It was rare when you didn't call him to report the current status of your adoring little girl, that loved to sleep in his broad chest as he caressed her hair. Gabriella was a Papa's girl through and through.

If she was particularly fussy, Miguel would be the one that would pick her up and rock her to sleep as you prepared her bottle.

Hours passed and still no signs from you. Another hour passed and it was enough. It had been his extra work that put him on edge.

These extra hours had surely been squeezing any chance to go home faster and help you with his part of the parenthood.

Once he was done, he clocked out and ran through the streets to get home.

He called your name, desperation mixed with fear as he came close to appreciate the scene before him. Curled in the rocking chair were you, combing Gabi's soft, wavy and ravenous strands, sang to her a little nursery rhyme song.

You made one of your hands to made a 'shh' noise, everytime he moved in closer.

Gabi had lost the little battle against sleepiness a while ago. Miguel picked her up and kissed her forehead, earning a photo-worthy pose of Gabi and himself.

"Thanks Papa" You smiled as he went to Gabi's room. He had been concerned when his phone had remained quiet the whole day, and even worst when little Gabi had been 'recovering' from that scary episode.

But seeing her all quiet, peaceful and certainly deep in sleep soothed his nerves so comfortingly and it also grounded him. He couldn't fear forever, neither you and him could.

"We are." He nodded, relieved with a small smile.

Sighing, he went back to you and wrapped his generous arms around you, a kiss on your temple.

"Why didn't you called me?"

"Gabi was asleep and quite entertained the whole day with a pair of munching toys, I forgot to call you. Sorry"

"It's fine. We can't fear forever."

You nodded and caressed his arms

"I know. It's scary, but I think we're doing a pretty good job."

Another kiss and a smooth caress on your skin.

"We certainly are."

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #talking with t✨#miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #t writes✨#dad miguel o'hara #gabi o'hara #soccer family ⚽🕷️#miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel o'hara fluff

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olee · 4 months

Text

Mil Horas | Enzo Vogrincic

*for the request of enzo :)

English and Spanish

It has been a challenging experience for you to witness the effects of your boyfriend's acting career on his mental and physical health. Your boyfriend, Enzo, recently secured a role in the movie "Society of the Snow," to be honest, this was a big deal for him. This was his first acting gig in a movie, and it was directed by a renowned film director, J.A. Bayona.

The movie's plot is set around a group of people surviving in the Andes mountains, and it follows a gripping storyline that keeps Enzo on his toes. He had to narrate some scenes and play a significant role in the film, which was exciting and nerve-wracking.

However, as the filming progressed, Enzo began to feel mentally and physically drained. He had to work long hours, often late at night, and the pressure to perform well was overwhelming. He struggled to balance his regular life with his filming schedule, and this took a toll on his mental and physical health.

You have been a supportive partner, trying your best to help Enzo cope with the demands of his acting career. You hope he can overcome these challenges and emerge victorious, as this is a significant milestone in his career.

Enzo, the lead actor in the upcoming film, had to drastically change his lifestyle to meet the demands of his character. He was required to follow a strict diet plan, but his dedication to his role led him to take extreme measures. He skipped meals and pushed himself beyond his limits as if he were truly surviving in the wild. As his loved one, you were understandably concerned about his health and well-being. You even spoke to the film's director, Bayona, about Enzo's condition.

One day, Enzo called you on WhatsApp, looking pale and exhausted. He had just finished filming a scene in Barcelona and was feeling weak. You answered his call and asked how he was doing, but before he could respond, you interrupted him and urged him to take care of himself, "Enzo, por favor, necesito que me escuches. Te lo he dicho millones de veces y nunca me das bola. Por favor, cuídate, me tenés preocupada. Necesito que sigas la dieta, si no vas a tener una reacción fea." You reminded him repeatedly to follow his diet plan and emphasized that he did not have to take the role so seriously. You assured him that his health was more important than anything else, and advised him to take some time to relax and meditate.

He sat there at the open-air café, his complexion drained and expression distant, sipping on a cup of coffee. With a reassuring tone, he said, "My love, don't worry about me. I'm perfectly fine. Take a look, just enjoying a peaceful moment with a cup of coffee here, and I wanted to see you. Honestly, Barcelona is treating me well, but I miss you so much, and I really need you here." Unsure how to respond, tears welled up, and you confessed, "Enzo, I miss you too!"

Enzo, noticing your tears, adopted a more comforting tone. "I don't want you to cry. I'm fine. Barcelona is challenging, but I know we'll be together again soon. I miss your hugs, your laughter, everything."

As you spoke, the conversation became tinged with nostalgia. Enzo shared details of his days in Barcelona, enthusiastically describing places and situations. "I swear, I even miss your scoldings here. No one cares for me like you do, and that's what I'm missing."

Amidst sips of coffee, you discussed plans for the future, dreaming of the moment when you would be face-to-face again. "We'll be together again soon. Don’t worry."

The background music caught your attention as he showed you through his camera the charming street in Barcelona where he was seated. To your surprise, it was your favorite song, "Mil Horas" by Los Abuelos De La Nada. A smile spread across your face as you recognized the familiar tune.

Funnily enough, Enzo, caught up in the moment, started singing the song, “Tengo un cohete en el pantalón/Vos estás tan fría/Como la nieve a mi alrededor/Vos estás tan blanca/Que yo no sé qué hacer/La otra noche te esperé bajo la lluvia, dos horas, mil horas, como un perro/Y cuando llegaste, me miraste y me dijiste: ‘loco, estás mojado, ya no te quiero’”His voice, carried by the ambiance of the street, added a touch of spontaneity to the virtual encounter. Without a second thought, you joined in, singing along with him. The distance between you seemed to fade away as the shared love for the song created a delightful connection across the miles.

#enzo vogrincic #society of the snow #my writing #la sociedad de la nieve #uruguay #latina #spanish #enzo vogrincic x reader #enzo vogrincic fic #enzo x reader #fanfic #argentina #agustín pardella x reader #simon hempe #matias recalt #Spotify

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auras-moonstone · 3 months

Note

Hello!!! Hru?! I hope your doing great!

I don't know if the requests are open but i know you're a swiftie and 1989 tv just came out and "Slut!" really reminds me of Jack, so could you do a story inspired by it? Just reader being famous (actress/singer, whatever you think fits) and she is being all love-sick by meeting and dating jack? And she even buy that "i love my boyfriend/girlfriend" t-shirts?

I hope you get my request and i love your writing!! You are the best <3 (And what's you favorite vault track?)

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ slut! — jack champion

ᡣ𐭩 word count: 1.9K

ᡣ𐭩 pairing: jack champion x actress!fem!reader

ᡣ𐭩 summary: y/n has to deal with the reputation that has been set on her by the media as she falls in love with jack, her co-star and best friend.

ᡣ𐭩 contents/warnings: mentions of slut-shaming. friends to lovers. instagram posts. fluff.

ᡣ𐭩 author’s note: hiii! <3 thanks for sending this request! when i heard the lyrics “in a world of boys he’s a gentleman” my brain just screamed JACK so i agree with you! and my fav vault tracks are slut and say don’t go <3

ever since y/n started working as an actress, the media has been merciless with her. maybe it was because despite having been in the industry for just a few short months, she was already working with remarkable directors and successful and iconic franchises. media had always had the tendency to bash successful women, and y/n was fully living that experience.

the point was, she didn’t want to give the media more things to trash her for, so she stayed unproblematic and silent. and yet, regardless of all that, they had managed put a reputation on her that was far from the truth.

y/n was kind and had a unique vibe. every co-star spoke highly about her and the media always managed to twist this by painting the picture that she was a “serial co-star dater.” it happened to her with every single movie or show she worked in, and people bought it blindly. the name-calling became part of her every-day life, and she would be lying if she said it didn’t affect her.

she swore she would never make the media be right, and so she set a strict rule—never ever date a co-star or be extra affectionate with them. it was a sad way of living, setting boundaries that were useless because reporters and haters always found a way, but she just wanted to do what she loved. she wanted to be remembered for her good acting and not for who she dated.

but then jack champion walked into the set, with his cringy yet amusing dad jokes and contagious smiles, to turn her world upside down. everything was so natural with him y/n didn’t even notice the way she started ignoring the rules until the scream filming was nearing its end and the thought of not seeing jack as often anymore made y/n’s chest hurt as if her heart was being ripped out.

and then the questions ran through her mind—what should she do? should she act normal, as if realisation hadn’t drawn on her? should she confront jack and ask if there was something more than friendship between them? or should she start putting distance before the feelings got deeper?

what she didn’t count on was that she didn’t need to say anything, jack was not only observant, he also knew her like the words to his favorite songs. he noticed how her head was up in space, how she seemed to be always deep in thoughts, distracted. something was consuming her mind, and it was driving jack insane.

“you’re acting weird. what’s going on?” jack finally asked her, pulling her aside on set. right behind the trailers where no one could bother them.

y/n tensed up. “what? nothing.”

“please, don’t play dumb. if there is someone you can’t fool is me.” jack said firmly. he missed his y/n, the girl who brought him comfort like a cozy warm blanket. “i miss you.”

“i’m here.” she said breathlessly.

“but are you?” he accused her. “something is going on, and it has to do with me.”

“what makes you say that?” y/n asked nervously.

“because you’re especially tense when i’m around.” he said sadly, and it broke y/n’s heart. her mind has been a mess, and she was unconsciously hurting jack. “did i do something wrong? please tell me, we can talk about it.”

y/n shook her head and before she knew it she was breaking down. jack didn’t hesitaste to pull her in. “i’m the problem. i’m sorry.”

“shhh, it’s okay. i’m here. don’t worry about it now, just take a deep breath. we don’t have to talk about it now, i’m here whenever you’re ready.” he spoke softly, rubbing her back slowly, to try and bring some calm.

they both sat on the ground, backs resting against the trailer. jack held y/n’s soft hands tightly, hoping it would give her the comfort she needed. he had never seen her in such state, and he was concerned.

“it’s nothing bad… i guess. it depends.” she said, reading the expression on the boy’s face, which grew more confused by her words. “i realized some things a few days ago, and they have been occupying my mind. i don’t know what to do with this. no matter what i do, it’s going to change things so i might as well be completely honest.”

jack nodded, pressing his lips on the crown of her head. “not going anywhere, y/n/n. no matter what you say, i can promise that.”

“you know the reputation that precedes me, right? i’ve told you about it.” jack frowned but nodded. “because of that, i’ve set this rule, that i wouldn’t let myself be affectionate with my co-stars. and i have sticked to that rule, until you.”

a knot formed on jack’s stomach. “so it’s about that? you want to put some distance?” god, he hated this. he hated to think about not being able to hold her, but he would give it up if it meant he got to keep her around.

“that’s the thing, jack. the reason why i have been acting so unlike me is because i’ve been trying to convince myself that putting distance would be the wise decision. but… if these days have proven anything is that it would be ultimate hell.”

“why didn’t you talk to me?”

“well, to be honest i was thinking what i should do. you just beat me to it because you know me better than anyone else.” she smiled and jack mirrored it. “that’s… that’s not everything i realized though.”

“okay, go on.”

“when the countdown to our last day on set started, i got this horrible feeling on my chest. the first thing that ran through my mind was that we wouldn’t see each other that often anymore and i felt this hole in my chest… it’s more than just missing a friend, jack. i would feel empty because i like you and you’ve become my person.”

jack’s jaw fell open and he was close to pinch himself just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. the times he has dreamt about this scenario… it felt too good to be real.

“but…” she continued. and reality hit the shore, putting an end to his short-lived hope. “i’m scared of what people might say. it’s still hard for me to not let what others think get into my head, and to even think about the hate that might come your way if we dated, makes me sick.” she shook her head and then her eyes widened. “my god, what am i even saying? i just assumed that you liked me back, i didn’t let you talk. god, this is embarrassing i’m so sorry.”

jack cupped her cheeks. “y/n, y/n, stop. breathe.” the girl nodded and closed her eyes until she was breathing normally again. “okay, now listen to me. if you’re not ready for a relationship, that’s fine. but if it’s because you’re scared of the hate comments towards me, let it go. i don’t care about them, i just care about you. okay?”

“yes…”

“good. i want to be your boyfriend, and if you’re not ready because of what the media might think then i have an idea.” y/n’s curious eyes look up to meet his. “i really like you, too, y/n/n. we can date in secret, to see how things go, and whenever you’re ready, we can tell everyone.”

“jack, that’s a lot to ask to you…”

“you aren’t asking me anything. i want to do this. i want to call you mine so bad—in secret, in public, however you want.”

y/n smiled through the tears. “are you sure?”

“one hundred percent, y/n. never been so sure about something.” he reassured her.

y/n couldn’t even recognize herself. two months ago she had been completely against the idea of being in a relationship and now she was utterly and unquestionably love-strucked.

she used to think she was doomed to being lovelorn because of the restrictions she had put in her relationships with other people. and now, there she was in bed, feeling lovesick just because she hadn’t seen her boyfriend in two days.

though those days helped her make the decision. the relationship between them was beautiful, it was a safe place, it was her main source of happiness. jack was everything to her and she was tired of loving him in the dark. he deserved to be loved out loud, in plain sight. she knew she was going to be the one to pay the price, but it was fine.

“you know there’s no rush, right?” jack assured her for the hundredth time. when y/n told him she wanted to make their relationship public, he remained calm (even though he was jumping on the inside) and sat her down to think it through.

y/n smiled widely. how could she not fall for him when in a world of boys he was a gentleman? “i love you, and if they call me a slut… you know, it might be worthy for once.”

“i love you, too.” he pulled her in for a kiss. “okay. let’s do this.”

“okay. i’m just warning you, i truly believe in the slang go big or go home.”

jack eyed her suspiciously. “spill.”

the girl smirked mischievously and went to grab a bag. “i made us special shirts.”

“lord save me.” jack sighed when he took the shirts out of the bag.

“you don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to.” y/n said

“you know i’m going to, anyways. like i’d ever be able to say no to your pretty face.”

enchantedliv um, just bumped into y/n y/l/n and jack champion 🥺 they were wearing matching shirts that pretty much confirmed their relationship ????

landrysghost what did the shirts say??

enchantesliv “i ❤️ my girlfriend.” and “i ❤️ my boyfriend.” THEY ARE SO CUTE AND WERE SO SWEET😫

user1 are we really surprised? that girl dates everyone she works with.

user2 he’s too good for her.

user3 she’s going to dump her once she meets her next co-star for sure lmaooo

user3 y’all are so jealous lmao. acting bitter just because you want him, that’s her only crime. there has never been any proof that she dated previous co-stars.

liked by jackchampion, misstrinitybliss, baileybass and 878,913 more.

y/n.y/l/n hi everyone! this is more than me saying i’m taken by the most gorgeous and kindest man on the planet. this is also me getting something off my chest. been wanting to for a while, so here we go!

since the beginning of my career i’d told myself to stay unproblematic which i mistook for never fight back or defend myself.

the media always said i dated too many co-stars—even though that’s completely false. i’ve never dated anyone i worked with (until now)—, so i set this stupid rule for myself: try not to be too friendly with my workmates. i was so scared of proving the media’s rumours right that i built this shell around me, never allowing myself to fully connect with people. and then, a couple of months ago i met jack. he made me forget about those limitations i so foolishly put.

i’m done giving anyone the power to hurt me. i’m done letting people think it’s okay to shame a woman for who they date or not.

i’ve been in a dark place for a long time, and i never noticed until my person walked into my life and showed me daylight. i’m doing better than i ever was now. i’m never staying silent again, i’m going to defend myself, my relationship and my boyfriend. always.

that was all for now, thanks for reading.

ps. i love you, jack. all i need is you <3 thanks for being the best boyfriend, best friend and person in the world.

jackchampion so so so proud of you. this brought tears to my eyes not gonna lie. you’re the sweetest ever i love you 💌 thanks for the shirt, by the way, matches my personality!

y/n.y/l/n you’re so silly😭 i love you more and intend to be cheesy forever 🫶🏻💖

jackchampion certainly no complaints from me!

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