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bweeeb · 3 months

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WILDFLOWER

Carmen Berzatto x Reader

Angst

Notes: I started watching the third season of The Bear and my love for Carmen returned.

Summary: When Carmen compares Y/n to Claire on a stressful day, he almost ruins everything with the woman in his life.

Carmen Berzatto was never a kid with many friends. In fact, he didn't have any for a big part of his life, until you came along. The principal and teachers thought you were too advanced for your grade and bumped you up a year, where Carmen was. Berzatto never imagined a girl as pretty as you would be his friend. He thought you’d hang out with Claire or the cool kids, but no, you obviously became friends with everyone, especially Claire, but mostly with him. It was you and Carmen. After school ended, your friendship lasted six years until he moved to New York and came back when Michael committed suicide. At first, things started off well again. You worked in your family’s marketing business, filming and promoting restaurants with creative and interesting videos. Carmen needed you to promote The Bear. You two started getting close again. Suddenly, you were helping him late at the restaurant, joining him and the crew for family meals, and then he asked you out, thanks to Richie pushing him to do it, and that’s how you got to where you are now. Maybe it was a bit early, but after a few long months, your lease ended, and without thinking much about it, you ended up moving in with Carmen. He was always working, so you didn’t get in his way, and he didn’t get in the way of your editing work. You didn’t have much to complain about. Every night, Carmen would come home, you two would shower together, helping him relax, and fall asleep watching something. Until it wasn’t like that anymore. You were always a clingy person since childhood. Your parents told you that, but never in a bad way. You always thought it was okay to show love through touch and words of affirmation, until Carmen seemed bothered by it. He started showering alone, saying he’d be with you soon. He’d let go of your hand on the couch and sit farther away than usual. The messages you used to send, which he said he loved because they relaxed his mind when the restaurant was chaotic, he no longer seemed to appreciate. You tried to make sure he was okay with all your emotions before starting a relationship, and Carmen assured you he was, even saying your touch calmed him and he’d never felt that way with Claire. Claire was never a tough subject between you two, but it was inevitable for you not to feel a pang of jealousy knowing Carmen sought her out before you.

It was almost eight in the morning, and that morning Carmen had left in a rush after oversleeping. While you were organizing things at home, his chef's coat appeared in front of you, and without much doubt, you realized he had left without it, which was almost unacceptable. You grabbed the coat and drove to the restaurant, not knowing that Carmen was having a bad day and taking it out on everyone in the kitchen. Entering through the back doors, your eyes widened at the commotion coming from the kitchen. You passed Marcus, who smiled and raised his eyebrows at you.— You need to calm your man down. He said, handing you a small bag and letting you pass. Walking through the kitchen, you passed by Sydney, who shook her head in disapproval, with Richie right behind her, clapping his hands.

— S/n, the cousin's losing it. If I were you, I wouldn’t go in there, but I think you’re our only hope.

Richie said, hugging you tight and lifting your feet off the ground, causing you to let out a low laugh that made Carmen look out of his office, seeing you in Richie’s arms. Carmen's neck vein popped out for no reason, feeling jealous of your friendship with Richie, which had never happened in the fourteen years of friendship. Now, his already bad day seemed worse. Carmen, without thinking, walked over to you both, and as Richie let go of you, he grabbed his coat from your hand roughly, turned his back, and ran his fingers through his oily hair that hadn’t been washed properly, unlike when you washed it. Yesterday, he had skipped your shower together. — Maybe a thank you would be great. You said, following him through the kitchen with Richie behind you like a loyal puppy.

— She brought it for you, cousin.

— Yeah, big deal. He muttered, and you stopped in your tracks, tensing at his harsh tone.

— Leave this to me, Richie, thanks. You turned to the older man, who nodded and stepped away, ensuring that if you called for help, he’d come running.

You slowly approached Carmen, who was at the counter cutting vegetables, and leaned on one arm to look at him. — Hey, babe, what’s wrong?

Your soft, calm voice, which usually soothed Carmen, made him swallow hard in irritation.

When you got no response or even a glance, your smile fell into a disappointed sigh. — Are you okay?

— Yeah, I’m fine, Y/n. Another robotic response.

— Okay, are you mad because you woke up late?

— Your hair’s gonna fall into the ingredients. His voice raised rudely, and you widened your eyes, taking a hair clip from your bag strap and tying your hair up. — There, better? Your voice stayed calm and low, not letting the others in the kitchen hear what you were saying, always the opposite of Carmen in bad moments. — Can you at least look at me when you talk to me, please?

You asked, and the knife in Carmen’s hand stopped. His fiery gaze landed on you, and you didn’t know if you’d ever felt such a strong urge to cry from a look before. — I don’t wanna talk to you, Y/n. I didn’t ask you to come here. Carmen’s harsh words escaped, and you frowned. You knew he hadn’t called you, but you knew him well enough to know he was freaking out about not having a coat.

— Excuse me? Why are you acting like a child? I know you didn’t call me here, you jerk, but all your coats were at home, and I brought one for you.

— I don’t care what you say. I don’t want you here. Didn’t you notice that? I don’t even know if I want you in my bed anymore. Carmen’s words gradually softened until his last words came out as a confession that made your eyes fill with tears. — Stop being so clingy, for fuck’s sake. Claire was never like that. Carmen exploded, causing the kitchen to fall into an awkward silence.

— Well, maybe you should call Claire then, Carmen. You said, biting the inside of your cheek, feeling like you were being stabbed in the chest. And you couldn’t stop thinking that Claire had always been the center of Carmen’s attention as teenagers, why wouldn’t she be now?

— Maybe I will, maybe I’ll call her and say my annoying girlfriend is being a pain in the ass at my fucking job. At least Claire didn’t stick to me like glue when I got home and knew how to respect my space. She did something useful at work, for fuck’s sake. Carmen yelled, and your throat formed a huge lump, knowing you’d either cry like a baby in front of him or outside, and you preferred to do it away from his eyes.

— Go fuck yourself, Carmen. You said, turning your back on your boyfriend, refusing to look at him with tear-filled eyes again. Walking through the kitchen, Richie came up to you with wide eyes, stopping you midway, but you just pushed him aside, making him run to Carmen with his hands on his head.

— What the FUCK did you just do, cousin? FUCK. That woman is the love of your life, damn it. Look at what you just said to her, you idiot. Richie yelled in Carmen’s face, who looked at his friend with his hands on his face as regret hit him. It was like while he was saying all those nasty things to the girl he loved most, his mind was clouded with adrenaline and anger, not at her, but at the pressure he was feeling that ended up being dumped on her. Running out of the restaurant, trying to catch up with you, but it was too late, and you had already disappeared.

When night came, Carmen walked into the house, and immediately when the emptiness greeted him, his chest felt heavy with regret again. There were no warm kisses, whispered caresses in his oily curls from spending all day at the restaurant, and no you, tiny and eager to try the food he’d brought for you to taste. He approached your shared bedroom and saw you curled up under the covers, hugging a pillow that used to be him. You never slept before he got home, and immediately, the fear of losing you hit Carmen, who got in the shower and felt his tears fall as he thought about how stupid he’d been to treat the person who made him feel safe and good after Michael left so badly.

After he got out of the shower, Carmen knelt by your side of the bed and gently caressed your cheek with his thumb, making you stir briefly and open your eyes quickly. Your usually bright eyes were red from crying so much, and it was impossible for Carmen not to notice. In a leap, you pulled away from his touch and sat up in bed, avoiding his gaze.

— I brought food for you. Carmen said, and you just shook your head, lying back down, unable to really sleep again.

— I’m not hungry, thanks. You murmured weakly, and Carmen wanted to slap himself for treating his sweet girl so badly. Even after hurting you, you thanked him when he couldn’t even properly apologize.

— I… I’m sorry, sweetheart. Carmen said, looking at your back and only receiving a nod. You knew your voice would crack from the tears starting to fall again, and you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry anymore. Carmen's heart sank at your lack of response, feeling the weight of his words crushing him. — I didn't mean it, any of it. I was just... I'm an idiot, and I took everything out on you. You didn't deserve that. You never do.

He whispered, his voice trembling with genuine regret. You stayed silent, trying to process his words. You wanted to forgive him, but the pain was still fresh. — Please, look at me, Y/n. I can't stand seeing you like this.

Carmen pleaded, his hand reaching out to touch you again, but stopping midway, unsure if it was welcome.

— Do you know how much it hurts to hear that from the person you love the most? You finally spoke, your voice breaking, making Carmen wince at the raw emotion in your words.

— I know, and I'm so, so sorry. I don't know how to make it right, but I'll do anything. Just don't leave me, please. Carmen's desperation was evident, and you slowly turned to face him, seeing the genuine remorse in his eyes. It was hard to stay mad at someone who looked so broken.

— I just need you to be honest with me. If you need space, say it. If something's wrong, tell me...— You stopped for a second, apprehensive — Can I ask you something? Do you see her in the back of your mind all the time wishing I were her? You asked, sniffling, and immediately Carmen shook his head. — Because I see her, and I can't keep on someone's place.

— Claire and I didn't work out because she couldn't stand me, and I couldn't stand her. You're the reason I wake up every day, knowing I'm going to come back from the restaurant to here and you'll be here is what makes me want to keep going, Y/n. Claire didn't do that, she never did. I'm sorry. He whispered pulling you into his arms in a hug. — I love you, Y/n. I'm sorry for making you doubt that.

— I love you too, Carmy. But I swear if you make me feel this shit again, I'll leave you forever, that's your only chance to do the right things, Carmen

— I promise. I'll be better. I don't ever want to lose you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. He confessed, his eyes filled with tears. You sighed. and Carmen hugged you tighter as he mumbled several apologies in a row.

— Can we take a nap now, please? I can't sleep without you.

— But what about the restaurant?

— They can handle lunch without me. He said, picking you up and carrying you to the neatly made bed.

#carmen berzatto angst #carmen berzatto imagine #the bear fanfiction #the bear hulu #the bear #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x fem!reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto angst #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy the bear #carmy x reader

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violetarks · 8 months

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bump into things, like someone in love!

anime: jujutsu kaisen

character: gojo satoru

summary: shoko and geto have noticed that gojo has become more... clumsy around one of the underclassman, and take it into their own hands to solve that problem.

warnings: afab! reader, she/her pronouns used, y/n is a bit oblivious lmao

shoko lights her cigarette, eyes on her best friends playing basketball on their break. satoru's glasses lay on her nose, suguru's jacket next to her. suguru was currently up five points, but satoru was slowly closing in. they only had a few more minutes until their break ended and they would have to go to class, and satoru was dead set on winning.

after a successful lay-up, satoru begins to whistle, "ya' losin' it, suguru!"

suguru passes the ball to satoru passed the three-point line, rolling his eyes. "you're just lucky, satoru." he huffs out, smiling.

"good job, satoru!" shoko lazily calls, grinning at his boosted ego.

satoru dribbles the ball a few times, now only three points away. as the two play around, you walk up to shoko on the bench, carrying your weapon's case, greeting your friend, "good morning, shoko. what's up?"

she glances over to you, smile on her face again. "hey, y/n. nothin', just watching them play. you got training soon?"

"yeah, yaga asked see yuu, kento and i on the field. he wants to see how we've been progressing." you say, fixing your collar. you glance towards the boys. "they're pretty good, huh?"

she nods her head, taking the cigarette out of her mouth to blow smoke away from you. she then calls out, leg over her knee, "suguru, satoru! look who's here!"

suguru turns to you briefly, sporting his calming nature and smiling gently. "morning, y/n!" he calls, turning his attention back to satoru, who's turning his head hastily to you.

"hey..." he mumbles, giving suguru the chance to steal the ball and shoot a three, effectively winning the game. satoru glares at his best friend. "hey! cheap shot!"

"pay attention next time, satoru." suguru jokes, catching the ball as the bell rings. he collects himself, walking towards shoko and you. satoru dejectedly follows after, crossed arms.

shoko tosses the boys their things before standing up. you hum out, jutting a thumb to the field as satoru and suguru came closer, "actually, principal yaga asked me to bring you guys. somethin' about an examination?"

"oh right, thanks." suguru says, feeling satoru standing behind him, watching from over his shoulder. he steps to the side, raising a brow. "what are you doing?"

"n—nothin'..." satoru replies, hands in his pockets as he looks away, sunglasses over his eyes. "hey, uh, y/n, how was your break?"

you blink at him, offering your kindest smile that makes his heart pound. "it was good, i spent the whole time dragging kento with yuu and i around for lunch." you say, shrugging your shoulders, "thanks for asking, satoru."

"yeah." he replies, clearing his throat.

shoko amd you begin to walk towards the field, where both nanami and haibara are waiting with their weapons. yaga stood by, talking to them. meanwhile, suguru squints at his best friend.

"what's up with you?" he whispers out, elbowing satoru, "you're acting weird."

"no i'm not." satoru scoffs, rolling his eyes. he tries to look away all nonchalant, but fails.

"is it y/n?" suguru asks, watching how you and shoko talk amongst each other. satoru watches as well. "did you do something to her?"

"you think i did somethin'?" satoru gasps in disbelief. suguru smiles. "why is that your first guess?"

"oi, y/n!" suguru calls, making satoru punch his shoulder harshly. you turn to them. "did satoru do something to upset you?"

satoru wants to destroy suguru after he says that, feeling as if his world is coming crashing down. you raise a brow and shake your head slowly, unsure of why he was asking.

"'course not." you reply, falling into step beside satoru. shoko taps her cigarette as suguru nudges her elbow. "why do you ask?"

"satoru acting strange to you?" he goes on.

"well, he did smash the flower pot yuu gave me when he walked me to my dorm." you explain, "but its fine, i ended up getting a new one."

satoru cringes at the memory of last week, and how you looked upset at the plant you were growing. he hastily bought you more seeds and you accepted them gracefully.

"is that so?" suguru mumbles out quietly, side-eying his best friend. satoru looks at the ground.

it isn't long until you reach your destination and the lesson starts. when it's your turn to go up against nanami, satoru watches you intensely. he watches your every move, and how you maneuver around the field with your weapon. you and nanami are evenly matched at this point, just as you both are with haibara.

"what do you think of the them?" yaga asks his older students.

"they're so cute." shoko chuckles, watching how haibara cheers the both of you on from the sidelines.

"they'll start going on solo missions soon." suguru states, leaning back as he sits down on the step. he glances at satoru. "you're invested."

"yeah? so what?" the white-haired male scoffs, crossing his arms, "i'm just watching."

"watching y/n?" suguru giggles under his breath.

"i am not watching y/n!"

he says that a little too loud. so loud that you instinctively turn to look at them as your name is called, and nanami sees his opening.

the match ends with him getting the slip on you after that.

you sulk back to the seats with your opponent in front of you. satoru blinks and stands up, jogging to meet you halfway.

"y/n! i'm sorry, i didn't mean to, uh, distract you..." he tells you, waving his handswith his apology. you look back at him, pout still on your lips. he falters, dropping his hands. "you... were still great out there."

"ah, thanks, satoru." you sigh, rubbing your shoulder as you sit down beside him with suguru on his other side.

satoru is kicking himself for making you lose your match, but suguru can't help buck snicker at it.

later, class has ended and its time for missions. everyone gathers in one of the classrooms, yaga standing at the front.

"suguru and nanami." he reads out, "you two are heading to a construction site in the south. take these reports and head off as soon as possible."

nanami takes them from the teacher's hands and shows suguru. the older boy reads it, eyes suddenly looking towards his best friend.

"good luck on your mission, satoru!" he chimes, smirking at satoru's red face. his friend flips him off in return.

nanami follows after geto shortly, leaving the room.

yaga clears his throat, "haibara, you'll be visiting the kyoto school to check in with the teachers there. they've requested the help of our school to deal with some missing cursed weapons."

haibara nods his head, fixing his uniform as he stands up.

"take l/n with you." yaga adds on.

you stand up as well, smiling at haibara and reading the report together. satoru blinks, watching as haibara nudges against you to get closer, letting you see the papers easier. he clicks his tongue. 'bad luck...'

"shoko, satoru. you'll be going to visit a high school south of here. suspected of harbouring grade 1 curses and holding some students hostage." yaga explains, but satoru keeps looking at you, "we don't known how many have been injured. make haste."

satoru makes his way to the exit when shoko holds up her hand. "actually, can i go with haibara? utahime and i have some things to discuss." she explains.

yaga, not looking too bothered by the idea, responds, "that's fine by me. haibara and shoko go to kyoto, and l/n and satoru."

shoko sends a sly wink to her friend, making satoru look away with furrowed brows. those two were always scheming! but he couldn't help but feel grateful, now being able to sit beside you on the train.

"after this, do you want to get dinner?" you ask him, looking down at your phone. satoru blinks at you. "it shouldn't take long since you're here, right? so i say we go to that thai place shoko mentioned."

"you wanna go with me?" his voice cracks as he points at himself. he blinks behind his glasses and you chuckle, making his face burn with embarrassment.

"of course with you, satoru. shoko told me that you enjoyed that place, so we might as well go after we're done." you reply, tilting your head, "and you're my favourite senior, after all."

he swears he's unable to focus the rest of the day. he's sloppy when taking down that high-level curse, and you have to snap him out of it a few times by calling his name. hell, you saved him twice when he mindlessly attacking, his mind doing re-runs of you telling him he was your favourite senior.

"satoru!" you shout, deflecting an attack by the curse that was going to hit him, hard. you hold your weapon in one hand, and grasp satoru's uniform front with the other, keeping him from falling off the ledge. you turn your head back to him, breathless. "c'mon, man! focus!"

"ah, i'm... sorry." he says, tracing your features in the sunset, "right! i've got this!"

you pull him up and look over to the scared high school students you saved. they're on the football field, protected by your cursed technique from any fighting outside.

truthfully, you didn't understand why he was off his game today. you've seen him fight before, you've heard all the stories. the almighty gojo satoru. here he was, tripping over his feet.

you decide to talk to him about it after, when the mission is done and you've sent your report back to yaga through a jujutsu worker. at dinner, it's an all you can eat and you snd satoru reserve a booth for yourselves. you sit across from each other (satoru thinks that sitting next to you would cause his heart to burst).

"satoru..." you begin, looking down at your food. he glanced up from his. "do you have a problem with me?"

he stalls, tilting his head. the light above you both illuminates his blush. "no, why do you think that?"

"because suguru is right. you do act differently around me." you explain, "you're always nice to me, satoru. but if you don't like me, you can just say so."

satoru mentally curses at suguru. the guy was putting ideas in your head to get him to confess! how could he play so much with your (non-existent) relationship?

"no! no, i don't have any problem with you." he is quick to react, reaching out to place his hand gently on top of yours, "it's the opposite, y/n... i like you. a lot."

"yeah? that's a relief." you sigh out, smiling at him, "i thought that maybe—"

"y/n, i really like you." he states, gathering all the courage possible to express himself. you stop yourself, staring at him. "i have for a while now... and i promise i'm not making it up, i'm just really bad at saying what i want to say."

"satoru..." you say, feeling his hand shiver on top of yours. you smile, turning your palm and gently holding his hand. "it's okay, i understand. i like you too."

"y—yeah?" he mutters, unable to hide his smile.

"yeah. you're always kind to me. and you've always given me souveniers from your missions out of town." you explain, satoru's heart racing, "i know it's you who leaves them at my dorm."

he hides his face in his other hand, uncontrollable blush on his face. "ah, i knew i should've just told suguru to give 'em to you..." he groans, holding his head in now both of his hands on the table.

you chuckle, standing up and leaning forward, pushing his silky hair back and pressing a warm and gentle kiss to his forehead. he freezes once your pull away, looking back at you from the top of his glasses.

"you're sweet, satoru." you say, leaving to the cashier to pay for the both of you.

satoru leans his chin on his palm, his whole face burning. he'd have to thank his friends, they were helpful even though they were so so annoying.

and when he gets back to school, he does just that. he barges into suguru's room where he and shoko are playing on his gaming console, as its wednesday night and its tradition to go to his room to play a few rounds before they head to sleep.

"you two!" he shouts, pointing accusingly, "you two meddlers! you two... monsters!"

"i take it the date went well." suguru says, pausing the game.

"date! date! it was a date!" satoru claims, falling back onto the bed behind them. the two sit on their own bean bags, turning around to face him. he was blushing like crazy. "i can't believe you two set me up!"

"someone had to." shoko claims, putting out her cigarette, "god knows you weren't gonna do it yourself."

"so how did it go?" suguru asks, wanting to know all the details.

satoru tells them about the mission and the dinner and how the confession went. suguru gets a punch in the shoulder for his intrusion, and shoko gets a glare for mentioning the thai restaurant.

the way he smiles and stares at the ceiling as he speaks makes his friends grin as well. it was high time that he finally got with you.

"and i walked her to her room when we got home and i thanked her for dinner—"

"no way you let her pay when you've got ten thousand businesses—"

"and i kissed her 'goodnight' and she said she wanted to go out again, soon." satoru finishes off, a happy smile on his lips, "she's really amazing..."

"finally! make me your best man." suguru says, turning back to the game with shoko.

satoru chuckles, turning to watch the game they were playing after changing your contact name in his phone.

y/n 💙

so next week? that cat cafe close by?

he smiles.

satoru ♡

sure thing, pretty

nanmi and haibara can hear you squeal in your dorm.

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo #gojo x reader #satoru #satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk x reader

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eternaldecisions · 4 months

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alexa play . . . hands on me by Ariana Grande .ᐟ.ᐟ

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ summary: You and Matthew, never liked each other, principally after an incident at a party, and when you found out your childhood bestfriend was kissing the person you hated the most, making intrusive thoughts take care of your body.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ warnings: Smut, rough sex, fem!receiving, degradation kink, spitting, enemies trope!! || ⸝⸝ author’s note: this is for @fawnchives !

The dazzling LED lights dominate your sight, enveloping your vision as you walk thru the party your best friend has just kicked off.

several couples getting drunk and making out in the corners, girls getting loose on the dance floor by the song “Hands on me” by Ariana Grande, why not join on the dance floor?

Making your way to the dance floor, excusing yourself to pass thru multiple people, the party was definitely crowded.

A sigh of relief escapes your lips as you get closer to the destination, put everything good in your mind disappears when you bump in the person you wanted to see the least.

Matthew Sturniolo.

You and him never liked each other, and had a big rivalry since high school, well firstly he was always a bitch to you, secondly you couldn’t stand seeing his attractive face structure everywhere.

The red cup filled with beer, spilled on his shirt, well lucky him it was a black shirt, if it was a white one it would be worse.

Im met with the pair of his blue eyes staring at me deadly, it scared you at the same time, but why be scared at a two faced loser?

“You never watch where you walk don’t you?” His gaze meet your body, taking a long up and down look, observing every detail of the outfit you had picked.

“Why are you such a asshole?” You comment, your gaze meeting his a light chuckle leaving his mouth.

“You owe me a new shirt, y’know?”

“Too bad, in your dreams maybe it happens.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes staring to walk away, he watches your figure disappearing into the crowded dance floor.

03:46AM

Multiple songs you liked were on and that made the party enjoyable, you smile with your friend Lizzie as you walk to a couch together refilling both of your cups, sounds of giggles escaping your lips as you two were enveloped in talking shit about people you didn’t like.

“Y’know, I hate Matth-“ you cut off yourself as you look to a corner right in your front, but still a bit far away, your eyes met the tall figure of Matthew as he basically as sucking the neck of your childhood bestfriend, Mila.

A strong grip on the cup is planted by the strength your hands make, Mila knew you hated him but she didn’t help it and offer herself to the guy you despised.

“That two faced cunt.” You mumble, Lizzie looking at you confused, you land your cup on the nearest table, beginning to walk outside for some fresh air.

Sitting on the crosswalk, as the wind hits your face you look to the street cars passing by, but one car calls out your attention.

Matthew’s Lamborghini Urus, parked the closest to you, a wicked grin forms in your face as your mind forms, why not ruin his car?

There was a lot of possibilities to ruin it, but the easiest was keying his car.

You suddenly remember you have needle in your shirt, after a problem had happened with your pink jersey, removing carefully the sharp object, standing up and walking up close to the driver’s passenger part, kneeling down, you started keying his car, damaging the shiny black painting, a white long line in his passenger door.

You smile to yourself, nothing better that knowing how man act when their precious car is ruined, and Matt’s car being ruined made you happy, he had what he deserved.

As you stand up once again, planting the clothe needle again in your jersey turning around, you meet face to face with Matthew.

Oh fuck.

In your mind you thought this would work because if you damaged and you disappeared after, he wouldn’t know it was you, maybe he could have an idea, but still.

His gaze turns to a anger look as he looks at you, he had been watching you all the time, and this wasn’t good, he crossed his arms against his chest, his muscles flexing as his voice starts echoing thru your ears, shivers being sent down your spine.

“You think you’re that clever don’t you?” He says, before you could reply, he shuts you off immediately by speaking again.

“Not only you bump into me with your clumsiness, spilling your beer on my shirt that now, you had to ruin my fucking car.” Every word that he spit out of his mouth he got even closer to you.

“Well maybe I have my reasons to key your car.”

“Are you mad that Mila was kissing me?” The anger in his voice was still visible, but he couldn’t help it and let a chuckle escape his mouth as a smirk is on his lips.

“Yeah, maybe I am because she was my bestfriend, and she knows damn well that I hate you!” You exclaim, you cross your arms just like he had, as you interlock eyes with him.

“That doesn’t give you any stupid fucking reason to key my car.” You open your mouth to comment, but before, a hand creeps up on your waist turning you around forcedly guiding you to the passengers side.

“Let me go!” You utter, as you try to remove his hand off you, but his grip was too strong.

“Why don’t you shut up that dirty fucking mouth of yours, hm?” He whispers in your ear as you can feel the smirk he has on his face, opening the door for you, you enter on the car, sitting and remaining silent for the rest of the ride, wherever he was taking you.

The whole car ride was silent, after he drove it to a luxury neighborhood, you knew he was driving to his house, his jaw was clenched most of the time and he was going 305 km/h, it was too fast to your liking.

As he parked his car, opening the electronic garage, he quickly left his side, going the other way to open yours, he grabbed you by the wrist making you gasp at the sudden act.

“You’re too mad just for a little damage in your car, I was having fun at the party.” You lie thru gritted teeth, for a moment it was but the second Matt was there, it had ruin everything.

“You’re a damn brat, maybe we can put you in your place isn’t it?” He states, his jaw still hardly clenched, his side profile being heavenly, like a sorta of Greek God had structured it.

You roll your eye as he guides you thru the big mansion he owned, every part of the place with different paintings and different furniture.

As you both go upstairs, he leads you to his room, the same time you step your feet inside, he is locking the door and pinning you against the wall, your faces being inches close.

“Now tell me hm? You wanted to be Mila didn’t you.” His strong cologne filled your nostrils, the same way your sweet scent filled his.

His hands creep up to your inner thigh, a sudden gasp leaving your mouth as you remain silent.

“What, cat got your tongue?” Matt utters, his soft lips attacking your neck, leaving wet kisses and marks, as his right hand kept going even more up arriving close to your pink laced panties.

His hand went fast to your core, how fast it was taken of there, as he picks you up in bridal style, positioning myself in his bed, as he tops me.

He pulls away my pink jersey throwing somewhere across his room, if someone ever told me i would be getting naked with the guy I hated, i would probably slapped me across the face.

His large hands find way to my denim skirt yanking it off, now i’m only left in my match bra and panties, how nice.

“You don’t need to lie, you’ve always wanted this as much as I did.” He commented ripping off my bra, my mouth wide how easily he had the strength to rip off the fabric.

“You owe me a new bra, idiot.”

He chuckles, as he pushes you close to him, his face leaning close to your stomach as he plants kisses along the way.

He gets each time closer to your core, making you clench around nothing, he pulls your panties to the side, with no warning, his tongue is deep down in my pussy, as a long moan leaves my lips.

I can feel the stupid smirk as he eats me out, his hands gripping my thighs to not let me move, he pulls leans up again, getting close to my face once again, smashing his lips against mine in a heavy roughy kiss, making me taste my juices in his tongue.

“Open your mouth, sweetheart.” The nickname made me wetter more then I was, i obey, sticking my tongue out, as he yanks his two fingers into, and i instinctively suck on them, dripping them with my saliva.

A wicked grin is planted on his face as the two digits are on my core, rubbing my puffy clit, as my mouth is open, soft moans leaving it which was music to his ears.

“Feels good getting pleasure by your enemy doesn’t it.” He expresses as his hands keep rubbing your clit faster.

“i still fucking hate you.” You spit it out, a loud moan leaving your mouth right after.

“The way your hips buck for more, it says otherwise doll.”

The please accumulated in your body leaves as he takes off the two fingers that were in your clit to his mouth, you watch him suck on it, tasting yourself once again.

Suddenly, his hands are removing his belt and his baggy jeans, seeing him in his Calvin Klein boxers, his hard cock wanting to be more than released.

Pulling his underwear down his dick hitting his stomach, you never had an idea he was that long, you can be a little thing but you like that long.

He leans down to your core, a full spit landing on it making you wince, your juices and his spit now combined.

He strokes himself a few times before slamming into you, a groan leaving his mouth as you moan in synchronization with him.

My head is thrown back, as he doesn’t give me time to adjust fully starting to thrust in and out of me, he wasn’t just some couple of inches, he had enough inches to bruise my cervix and leave me hanging for more.

“You liked being fuck like a slut don’t you?” He chuckles, keeping thrusting, my mind couldn’t even form words, my back arching for more, his dick had the perfect size to hit my g-sport.

“I asked you a question.”

“Yes, fuck.. I love it.” You moan our, your head throw back in his pillows, his hands finding way to smack your ass, the real meaning of pain and pleasure.

He smirks, as he gets closer to my face pulling me in a rough kiss, my moans being muffled by it, his thrusts were each time more rough then the before, he wasn’t like other guy that would fuck a girl just to cum inside her and leave, oh he was for sure waiting to see your face knowing he was the one giving you all the pleasure.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna.” Before you could finish your sentence you cum all around his dick making a mess in the sheets below.

“Making a mess on my dick like the fucking slut you are.”

He pulls out, stroking his dick a few times before painting your lower and upper body with his cum, before collapsing on top of you.

Sweaty beads were formed during the act, your panty and heavy breaths in sync together, as you catch your breath all you could hear was his deep voice echoing thru your ears.

“Y’know, instead of watching me suck your best friends neck, if you ever need my hands on you, don’t be scared to ask, it is better then keying my car for that attention.”

#eternaldecisions #sturniolo triplets #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris x reader #sturniolo fanfic

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bellarkeselection · 10 months

Note

Hiii!! I saw that you wrote for Georgie Cooper from you Sheldon and I was wondering if you would write for him again 😊 Can I get Georgie with a latina gf that loves to cook, whenever she goes over to his house she's always bringing food from her culture (I'm Mexican so Mexican food ofc) .

Culture Cooking

I am not Latina so I hope I wrote this correctly 🤗 and a very short request in my opinion but I hope you still enjoy

Coming out of Missy’s room that used to be Georgie’s old bedroom, I had decided to get up early and make the family breakfast. I had stayed the night after my date with her older brother, and we didn’t get back till really late, so she said I could sleep over in her room. Walking down the small hallway and into the kitchen, I got lost in thought, thinking of the ingredients that I needed. I have been bringing over some spices and stuff when I would come over here. I loved cooking for Georgie, and he always seemed to enjoy my family's food. “Hey…uh what are you doing up this early?”

Whipping my head around away from the stove I saw Georgie stumbling his way into the kitchen. “Oh hey. I thought I’d make the family my kind of breakfast.”

“Sweet.” He smiled sitting down at the table watching me go back to cooking. My family had moved to Texas after my father got a new job here being the assistant principal.

One day after I was leaving from English class I had been walking down the hallway and accidentally bumped into Georgie. All of our notebooks went flying and that’s how we met basically. Turning the oven off I put the whole meal together on a plate and slid it across the table to him. “I present to you one of my families favorite things to eat for breakfast.”

“Woah this smells really good.” Georgie gave me praise picking up his fork and dove right in. He took a big bite making the same noise he does whenever his Meemaw makes brisket for dinner that he loves.

Georgie stared at me with a mouth full of food. “So what’s in this?”

“Let’s see it’s a fried tortilla topped with salsa. And there’s eggs, pulled chicken, cream cheese and bean included inside it too.” I chuckled sitting down and taking some bites out of the one I had made for myself with him.

Georgie took a few minutes to finish his food wiping some sauce that was left on his plate. I bite my lip trying not to laugh at seeing some cream in his hair where I moved one hand up wiping it away. “Awe dang it! I guess you are a really good cook if I get it in my hair.” He chuckled back at me.

“Yeah suppose so.” I responded moving our plates off the table hearing someone else entering the kitchen seeing it was Missy.

She squealed hugging me by the waist. “Hi Y/n. What did you make for breakfast?”

“She made a fried tortilla.” Her older brother said forking some more from the pan onto his plate.

Missy gave me a confused look. “A fried tortilla?”

“Yes but it’s actually called Chilaquiles.” I told her before she sat down and I made her a plate of her own.

Georgie finished his second plate putting his plate up in the sink then came over to me. He wrapped his arms around my waist bringing me closer to his chest with that same cheeky grin. “Even if I can’t pronounce your food half the time. You’re still a really good cook. Everybody in the family enjoys it. So thank you for this and all the other meals.”

“You’re welcome, Georgie. I always love cooking for y’all.” Draping my arms over his shoulders I grinned up at him kissing him slowly where he tightened his hands around me deepening the kiss.

He moved one hand into my hair and the other on my waist. We we’re getting caught up in the kiss that we almost wound have gone further if it wasn’t for his sister being in the kitchen with us. “Eww. If I knew you two were going to kiss after you ate I would have eaten my breakfast in front of the tv.” Missy made a look of discomfort.

“Awe I’m sorry Missy. I can’t help if he’s a good kisser and likes my food at the same time.” I shrugged my shoulders with him draping an arm over my shoulder so I laid my head on his shoulder since he was slightly taller than I was.

Georgie looped our hands together sending me a smirk. “Best of both words, my darling. You’re pretty awesome Y/n.”

“Stop being cute or I’m gonna barf my food.” She whined at us with her tounge sticking out.

I gasped remembering that their parents were already at work for the day so that left Sheldon in our care. Snapping my fingers at Missy I questioned his twin sister worried he needed to eat. “Missy, go tell your brother that I made breakfast.”

“Sheldon, Y/n made breakfast!” She spun around in her seat hollering towards their bedroom causing me and her older brother to start cracking up in laughter. Squeezing Georgie’s hand in mine I always enjoyed anytime I got to cook for this family.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

#georgie cooper imagine #georgie cooper x reader #montana jordan #georgie cooper #the big bang theory #young sheldon #young sheldon imagine #young sheldon x reader #x reader #mexican #mexican food #ask box is open for anything #comments really appreciated #latina #latina reader #chilaquiles

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deliciousangelfestival · 4 months

Text

The Malicious Daughter is Back! - 3

Character : Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: It's just a business marriage. Bucky thought it would be easy until he encountered the stepsister of his fiancée. She turned his world upside down.

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || Support : Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

You scoffed, “Are you willing to wait until school is over? As you can see, I have to teach my precious students.”

Bucky smirked. This was the first time you had seen him smile. You had to admit he was handsome. Victoria must be proud, as Bucky was way out of her league.

But you didn't want to get close to him since he was already your step-sister's fiancé. Perhaps he had the same character as her.

Bucky interrupted your thoughts, “You don't have to worry since the principal has given you permission to leave after this class.”

Unbeknownst to you, before he entered your class, Andre had brought him to the principal's office. Bucky had bribed the principal with cigars.

For the first time, Andre saw his principal, who usually wore a flat expression from the stress of dealing with delinquent students, laugh heartily as he picked up the cigars. “Haha… of course. Miss Sinclair needs a day off.”

Clueless about Bucky's deal with the principal, you raised your eyebrows in surprise, not expecting the principal to give you a day off so easily.

Half a day without dealing with the delinquents wasn't a bad idea. As you rose from your seat, you issued a directive, "Fine. Let's go."

You pointed towards the hallway and added, "And stick close to me. It's like a jungle out there."

As Bucky followed behind you, he soon realized the context of your warning. The students erupted in cheers, though the intent behind their vocalizations remained ambiguous, potentially constituting either catcalls or attempts to provoke offense.

"You've got a rich sugar daddy, miss," one student jeered, while another offered unsolicited advice, "Dude, run while you still have the chance."

A misguided attempt at physical interaction occurred when one student attempted to bump into Bucky, prompting him to sidestep, causing the student to stumble and fall.

"Dude, what the heck?" the surrounding students exclaimed in confusion.

"Pardon me," Bucky politely interjected as he maneuvered away from the scene.

Observing the exchange, you addressed the student, Mark, with a pointed remark, "That's what you get."

In response, Mark displayed a gesture of defiance, raising his middle finger, to which you reciprocated in kind.

Witnessing the interaction between you and your students, Bucky noted your lack of fear, interpreting your demeanor as assertive and resilient.

“RINNNGG!”

Break time was over, and it was time for the students to return to their classrooms. However, none of them made a move.

You understood the reason; they knew you were leaving.

Standing near the school door, you raised your right arm and held up three fingers.

“If I count to three and you guys are still here, I'll make all of you fail my class,” you warned them, your tone firm and commanding.

“We'll make you viral, b*tch! This is unfair,” Mark protested.

“Try me. One…” You began the countdown, your voice echoing through the hallway, your expression steely.

Before you could even say “two,” the students scattered, rushing back to their classrooms in a panic.

Bucky watched in awe, though he didn't verbalize it. Instead, he gave you an impressed look, admiration evident in his eyes.

You shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. “Like I said before, devil spawn.”

Bucky chuckled and held the door open for you, a gesture of respect and acknowledgment of your authority.

💋💋💋💋💋

He brings you to a luxurious café, seemingly inspired by Moroccan design. The place features intricate tiles, arched doorways, and rich colors. Elegant furniture, soft lighting, and comfortable seating create a warm atmosphere.

It had been a long time since you visited a place like this, reminiscent of times before you were kicked out by your stepmother.

Opting for the cheapest drink on the menu, you ordered a cold brew, not wanting to owe him anything more than necessary.

Your drink arrived promptly, and you tasted it. The taste of the coffee made you forget about the shitty cafeteria coffee you just had. Compared to you, who ordered a simple drink, Bucky's was unique.

His coffee was prepared right before him, with the server announcing, “We have prepared your coffee cup, sir.”

Bucky nodded graciously. “Thank you.”

“You're very welcome, sir,” the server replied before departing. “Enjoy.”

Bucky savored his coffee with an air of elegance, his movements precise and refined. You couldn't help but notice that he had been wearing leather gloves this whole time.

Taking a sip of your drink, you asked, “So… What do you want to talk about?”

Bucky set down his drink and met your gaze with his calm, cold demeanor.

“It's about last night,” he began, his expression unreadable as he spoke.

You grumbled, “Oh my god. Are you going to sue me for sexual harassment? I'm sorry. It's a bad habit of mine, doing something without thinking. Please don't sue me. I don't have the money to hire a lawyer.”

Bucky struggled to follow your rapid speech. “No, calm down. I won't sue you. It's just…” He paused, taking a deep breath to compose himself.

Or did Victoria cry to Bucky and ask him to teach you a lesson? You couldn't help but wonder what he was going to say next.

“I have this disorder, Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD). The symptoms include being overly sensitive to sensory input, including touch,” he explained, his gaze shifting to observe your reaction.

“No judgment here. I've encountered various cases of trauma from my students,” felt relieved a bit you reassured him, trying to offer some comfort.

“Thank you for understanding,” Bucky replied gratefully. “When someone touches me without my consent, I will vomit or I will faint.”

Your eyes widened in realization. “Shit.” Guilt washed over you as you began to fully comprehend the impact of your actions.

Bucky confessed, “The weirdest thing is, when you touched me, kissed me, my body didn't have any reaction.”

You lifted your head in confusion. “Huh?”

“I went to different psychologists, tried many medicines, doctors, meditations, but none of them worked. Except you. A stranger that I've never met,” Bucky elaborated.

“Are you sure?” you asked, still trying to process the revelation.

Bucky then removed his leather gloves and called the waitress over. “You. Come here.”

The waitress approached, curious about Bucky's request. “Yes, sir?”

Bucky extended his bare hand. “Shake my hand.”

The waitress, unsure of the situation, complied and shook Bucky's hand.

In an instant, Bucky grabbed a nearby bucket and began to vomit.

The waitress and you were both shocked. Bucky, who had been calm and composed moments ago, now appeared pale and sickly in just a matter of seconds.

Could what he said really be true?

Bucky wiped his mouth and apologized to the waitress, his tone sincere. “I'm sorry. Please don't be offended. It's not because of you. I hope the tips my secretary will give you could cheer you up.”

The waitress, still unsure of what just happened, responded hesitantly, “Ah, thank you?”

Bucky's secretary appeared seemingly out of nowhere and began conversing with the waitress, diverting her attention.

Left alone with Bucky, he raised his hand again, as if asking for your right hand. Confused, you offered your hand, which he gently took and held in his.

You thought it might have been a mistake, but Bucky showed no reaction. He closed his eyes, seemingly waiting for something to happen. There was no rapid heartbeat, no sweating, and no urge to vomit.

He opened his eyes and saw you looking thoughtful. “Thank you for your patience and trust.”

You replied, “Ehm, glad to help.”

“My predictions were correct. You could be the answer to my disorder. I will make you a generous offer,” Bucky stated. His voice tone sounded like happiness is in it.

"Really?" You could ask for money for your grandmother's surgery. After you were kicked out of the house, you lived with your grandmother from your mother's side. After your mother died, your father stopped sending money to your grandmother.

Bucky nodded, his expression serious.

You hesitated. "Wait. Does Victoria know about this?"

Bucky shook his head. “Besides my parents, only you know about this.”

“Both of you are going to get married, and you didn't want to share the truth?” you questioned. Poor Victoria, the man she will marry, has a cold heart.

You were supposed to be the bad guy, glad that she would receive her karma. But why did this remind you of something?

He went silent. The thought of marriage with Victoria irked Bucky. He pulled on his leather hand gloves again and rested his hand on the table. He looks like he's discussing a business deal worth billions.

“The truth is, I saw this marriage as a business deal. I don't have the desire to have a heart-to-heart conversation with your stepsister. And from what I've seen of her, it's better if I don't talk to her about my disorder,” Bucky explained.

His tone was cold, sending a shiver down your spine. No wonder the Barnes family had been successful conglomerates for so long—they knew how to get what they wanted.

But there was something you didn't agree with. “I want to help you,” you stated.

Bucky visibly lightened up at your words.

You crossed your arms tightly, a frown creasing your brow. “But after what you said to hide it from your fiance, you reminded me of my father. A man of few words. A hero in business, but a failure in family.”

Your father, Jonathan, lived and breathed for money. He left everything about the household to your mom, while the families’ businesses thrived. But after your mother died, her family's business went bankrupt, and he didn't offer much help.

You didn't want to assist another man who reminded you of your dad.

Placing a dollar bill on the table to pay for your drink, you stood up abruptly. “I hope you find a cure, but I won't be the one to help you. Thank you and goodbye.” You grabbed your coat and started walking away.

Bucky hadn't expected you to reject him. And what's more outrageous is you're comparing him with your father. Bullshit.

He scoffed, his fingers tapping the table in frustration. No one had ever said no to him before.

He turned around and saw your back. “What if I raise my offer? Your childhood home and Velari into your hands?”

Your foot stopped before you reached the door. How did he know your deepest desire? The home you got kicked out of was the treasure from your mom. That beautiful home was designed by her; she was a designer.

And Velari, the fashion brand built by your mother, was now occupied by Celestial Enterprises, owned by Genevieve. It was your birthright to inherit your mother's work, but that other woman and her devil spawn were able to kick you out.

Lost in your daydream, you didn't realize Bucky was standing before you. “Do you like that deal?”

You lifted your head, meeting his gaze with a hint of mischief in your eyes. A sly smile played on your lips as you reached out and gently took his hand in yours.

Bucky felt a sudden surge of heat as your fingers intertwined with his.

You lifted his leather-clad right hand and brought it closer to your lips. Gently, you pressed a kiss against it. "With an offer like that, I might just be tempted to give you more than just my hand."

The gesture made Bucky shiver, though he didn't feel any disgust. This feeling was completely different from what he experienced last night.

From this moment, he knew you're a natural seducer, and he was playing with fire.

Author Note: I had goosebumps writing the last part. I hope you like this chapter. 💓💋

Taglist:

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@scott-loki-barnes

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@buckitostan

Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

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uniquexusposts · 4 months

Text

The politician's daughter

Main characters: James Beaufort x reader Genre: fanfiction, fluff, TV show Word count: 1482 Requested by: @marjoriesemente Note: there will be a second part

Summary: Y/N is new to Maxton Hall and tries to start over again. But one person is making it difficult. What will happen next?

An unfamiliar black BNW stopped in front of the gates of Maxton Hall. It caught everybody’s attention since it didn’t belong to the Beaufort’s. Y/N L/N stepped out of the car. The driver, a very handsome man in a black suit, opened the door. Y/N took off her sunglasses and looked around; the school in the English countryside was a stark contrast to her former life in the bustling capital city.

Her father, a prominent politician, insisted on this move since he was about to be elected president. He also hoped this elite school would provide a fresh start.

Y/N took a deep breath, bracing herself for what was to come. She looked at her driver and gave him a nod as thank you. As she walked through the grand entrance, whispers followed her every step. Her unique beauty, sharp features, softened by a mysterious aura, captivated the students. Everybody knew who she was. Whispers about her father’s influence and her wealth swirled around, making her the centre of attention instantly.

“Welcome, Miss L/N,” principal Lexington smiled and stuck out his hand. “It is a pleasure to have you here. I am direktor Lexington and I will show you around.”

Y/N shook his hand with a polite smile. It looked like she had media training, she effortlessly spoke and moved. “Thank you, direktor Lexington. I appreciate it.”

The first few hours of the day were a whirlwind of orientations and introductions. Principal Lexington navigated Y/N through the labyrinthine hallways. At the end of the tour, Y/N had to wait in front of Lexington’s office since he had to get some documents.

Y/N was wandering around in the hallway, scanning everything. The old architecture impressed her. Her face softened; this felt like she entered a TV show or movie. If she was honest with herself, she didn’t mind being here.

Just when Y/N turned around to walk back towards Lexington’s office, she bumped into James Beaufort.

James, tall and striking with an air of confidence, looked down at her, irritation flashing in his eyes. His eyebrows raised. “Watch where you’re going,” he snapped, brushing past her.

Y/N’s face straightened, and her eyes narrowed. “You bumped into me,” she retorted, her tone icy.

Cyril, James’ best friend, snickered. “New girl with a temper. This will be interesting.”

The tension was palpable, setting the stage for their contentious relationship.

Y/N sighed; it all was different from her previous school. She waited for Lexington, who quickly walked over to her. He led her to her new class and showed her the latest schedule.

“I paired you with James Beaufort,” Lexington mentioned when he and Y/N were standing in the class, taking the attention for the moment. James slowly turned around on his stool, and he lowered his eyebrows. “He will be on your side for this week and guide you through the classes,” Lexington said, looking at James to make sure he would understand it. “You can sit right next to him, Miss L/N. Welcome, and have a wonderful time here.” He gave her a nod and walked away.

The teacher warmly smiled. “Welcome. Please, take a seat. Mr. Beaufort will catch you up with the chapter.”

Y/N walked over to James, waiting for Cyril to pack his stuff and move to another table. Cyril raised his eyebrow, looking impressed and moved to the table behind them. Y/N hung her blazer over the chair and sat down next to James.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” James mumbled under his breath.

Y/N clenched her jaw. “Trust me, I’m not thrilled either.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“And you don’t even know me,” she whispered, getting her stuff from her bag. But the moment in the hallway said enough about him, Y/N thought.

He sighed and focused on the class, pretending Y/N wasn’t even there.

The hour went by, and it was time for lunch. Before Y/N could pack her bag and get up, James had already left with his friends. Y/N looked at how they left, pausing her packing. He was a douche, that was clear to her. Her eyes met a girl’s eyes, who walked up to her.

“Don’t mind him,” she said. “He’s… just James Beaufort.”

“He’s not interesting to me,” Y/N replied and carefully smiled.

“Good,” the girl said. “I’m Amelia, by the way.”

“Y/N.”

“I know,” the friendly-looking girl smiled. “I’ll show you around.”

Amelia and Y/N chatted about their lives and entered the grand dining hall. Y/N was aware of the eyes on her. She scanned the room, finding an empty sport at a table for her and Amelia. They got something to eat. Y/N learned about the school’s social hierarchy: James Beaufort was the unofficial king of Maxton Hall. His popularity and charm made him a leader, but his arrogance rubbed Y/N the wrong way.

“So, what’s your story?” Amelia asked, curiosity in her eyes.

Y/N hesitated. “My dad’s a politician, as you may know. And it looks like he will become the new prime minister.” She looked around, scanning the hall. “My dad didn’t want me to be in London anymore, something with security. So he sent me to my mum, and I moved to the countryside.”

Amelia nodded understandingly. “Must be tough.”

Y/N shrugged. “It has its moments. And what about you?”

“It sounds so awful, honestly, but my parents won the lottery, and they invested in big companies, so here I am.”

Y/N nodded impressively. “It’s the first time I’ve met someone who has won the lottery of her parents. What’s their secret?”

“If I know, I would tell.”

They shared a laugh, but they got overruled by a loud laugh from the table James Beaufort sat at. James was telling a story, and his friends were hanging on his every word. Y/N couldn’t help but feel a pang of irritation.

“Don’t let him get to you,” Amelia said, noticing Y/N’s gaze. “He’s used to getting his way.”

Y/N smiled faintly. “I’m not worried. Giving those guys attention, makes them even worse.”

Amelia’s eyes squinted. “I like you,” she said like she wasn’t sure about it first.

As the days passed, Y/N tried to settle into her new routine. Despite her best efforts to avoid James, their paths seemed to cross constantly. James didn’t want to be Y/N’s buddy, he didn’t want to be anyone’s buddy. Besides, other people were helping Y/N already. However, they met in classes, in the halls, and even during extracurricular activities. Each encounter was a reminder of the tension between them.

The first political debate about the presidency was on air during class. During lunchtime, everybody was watching and talking to Y/N since her father set up a very interesting debate. After lunch, Y/N’s class had an hour to spare. Y/N went to the library to study. She was struggling, deep in thought, when she heard a familiar voice.

“Enjoying the attention?”

Y/N looked next to her; James Beaufort was standing against the stool next to her with his back. He didn’t bother to look at her, yet he was waiting for a reply. “I didn’t ask for it.”

“Clearly, you’re used to it,” he replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Whatever my dad has to do, is none of my business.”

James finally turned to face her, his expression unreadable. “Your dad’s a big deal, huh?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “He’s just a politician.”

“Just a politician,” James repeated, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Must be nice.”

Y/N bristled at his condescending tone. “You think you know everything about me just because of who my dad is?”

James shrugged. “I don’t need to know everything. Just enough to know that you’re not as special as you think you are.”

Y/N’s jaw clenched. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Maybe not,” James admitted, his gaze piercing. “But I know enough.”

“And what exactly are you doing here? Can I help you?”

James paused, his gaze flickering with uncertainty momentarily before he regained his composure. “I was just passing by,” he replied casually, though there was a hint of defensiveness in his tone. “Thought I’d see what the new girl was up to.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, scepticism is evident in her expression. “Right,” she said, unconvinced. “Well, if you’re not here to help, then I suggest you leave me to my studies.”

James hesitated, his jaw tensing slightly. For a moment, it seemed as though he might argue, but then he simply nodded and turned to walk away. Y/N watched him go, a mixture of frustration and curiosity swirling inside her.

Click here to go to part 2

#james beaufort #maxton hall #maxton hall the world between us #james beaufort fluff #james beaufort x reader #james beaufort reader fluff #james beaufort reader #james beaufort y/n fluff #maxton hall die welt zwischen uns #damian hardung #james beaufort x y/n

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f1byjessie · 7 months

Text

A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.

sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.

( lando norris x photographer!reader )

━━ part nine.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 714,148 others

tagged: yourusername

mclaren As we get closer and closer to the start of the 2024 season, we thought we’d take the time to introduce new fans to the team that works behind the scenes! Starting us off, we have Y/N L/N, our personal paddock photographer! Y/N has been here with us at McLaren since 2019, and is the genius mind behind many of the photos we’ve posted throughout the years. She’s an important part of our community and helps tremendously in not only capturing our drivers in action, but also in getting the other behind the scenes members of our team the recognition they deserve. We’re glad to have her back here with us in Bahrain, and we can’t wait to see what beautiful concoctions she comes up with this year! 🧡

view all 9,147 comments

user if there is 100 y/n fans, i am one of them. if there is one y/n fan, it is me. if there are no y/n fans, i have died.

user love love LOVE that mclaren takes the time to recognize the hard work of everyone who supports the drivers

↳ user i feel like f1 promotes the racers, team principals, and pit crew so much and forgets about everyone else that makes sure these teams are able to function so seamlessly

user CAN WE GET A MEET THE ADMIN POST TOO??? 👀👀👀

user i bumped into y/n back in silverstone 2021, like literally bumped into her, and she was so sweet!!

user she’s my photography inspo 🤩

user her dedication to the mclaren team is so apparent when you think about the fact that she DOESN’T get the same recognition as the drivers, but she has chosen to work for them for what will be 6 years as of this season. she could have easily move to a different formula 1 team or even another sport entirely, but she still comes back and that’s a dedicated artist

↳ user the fact that she did a little stint over at manchester city fc and STILL chose to come back to mclaren even tho i imagine f1 has a much harsher and stricter schedule with the intercontinental travel than football does

user this is who we have to thank for all those beautiful shots of lando??? cuz if so, bless her omg 🙏🙏🙏

user in this household we appreciate the crew that works tirelessly to keep us entertained

user so tired of seeing ppl disregard her skill as a photographer just bc of who she’s dating

↳ user OMG SAME

yourusername glad to be here, can’t wait to travel the world with these amazing people 🧡

INSTAGRAM.

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren, and 214,051 others

tagged: mclaren

yourusername locked in and ready 😎

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oscarpiastri so glad you’ve gotten over your temporary obsession with blue 😁

↳ yourusername so glad you haven’t lost your ability to get on my last nerve 😁

↳ oscarpiastri so glad you’re still insufferable even on your best days 😁

↳ yourusername now that’s a comeback i can be proud of 🥹

user MISSED THESE LADS OH MY DAYS

user ONE DAY UNTIL TESTING GUYS

user oscar looking fine asf these days 😩 that winter break treated him well

mclaren The boys are back in town!

↳ yourusername dare i say my milkshake brought them to the yard?

↳ mclaren It certainly called us 😍

↳ yourusername you flatter me mclaren admin 😌

↳ mclaren Only the best for our best 😘

user that’s some pretty intense eye contact from lando in the last image…

↳ user he ain’t even looking at the camera

↳ user nah bruv is def looking at y/n 👀👀

↳ user I NEED THEM TO GET OVER WHATEVER HAPPENED AND GO BACK TO BEING FRIENDS CUZ I MISS THE BANTER IN THE COMMENTS

↳ user i think we should probably respect their privacy and understand that something happened (presumably in the off season) that we weren’t privy to. so long as they can both maintain professionalism around one another, they don’t have to do or “get over” anything. does it suck to see two very close friends no longer get along in the way they used to? absolutely. but we don’t know what happened or if anything even did happen. in the event that something did, we don’t know who’s involved or who, if anyone, is at fault. they’re both justified in choosing to end a friendship due to a falling out, or even if they just grew distant. but even as i say all of this, it’s still speculation.

↳ user we don’t actually know if they aren’t friends any longer or if they’ve just moved their friendship off of online platforms. it should be noted that y/n is very publicly dating someone, and idk about you, but i know firsthand how delusional fans can be. her bf’s fans could easily attack her over banter with another man, and lando’s fans could just as easily start reading into that same banter which runs the very real possibility of putting all three of them in an awkward situation where y/n is being shipped with a man that ISN’T her bf.

↳ user what about the banter she has with the mclaren admin? 🤔

↳ user context is super important here. the flirting between y/n and the mclaren admin is very obviously fake. it has been from the beginning, and when ppl “ship” the two of them together it’s for the bit and to play along with their fake bromance. lando and y/n have both been legitimately shipped together since they both started working with mclaren, which changes the undertone of the shipping comments bc ppl often genuinely misconstrue their banter as REAL flirting.

user why do comment sections related to y/n always turn into debate sessions

↳ user REAL like ain’t no way i’m reading all that

user oscar’s hair sticking up in every picture is my roman empire

user I’VE BEEN MISSING THE ORANGE I’M SO GLAD IT’S BACK 🧡🧡🧡

user wait i didn’t even realize until now that this is the first post in like a month that’s actually had public comments turned on

↳ user probably bc her bf’s loser fans have finally stopped harassing her

jackgrealish must be nice having all that sun 😒

↳ yourusername it really is, bet you’re jealous

Testing goes fine, until it doesn’t.

“A drain cover?” Lando’s voice echoes across the garage. “Another fucking drain cover?”

You purse your lips.

Yesterday, he’d been upset on Oscar’s behalf when they’d cancelled the remainder of the morning session after only a couple hours to solve the problem of the track’s dislodged pieces. He’d complained and cussed out the incompetence, and then reassured Oscar that things would be better for the third day.

But the third day is here now, and he’s even more upset now being told to pit after a measly thirty minutes for the same issue.

“This is the second fucking time━” he cuts himself off with an angry huff and runs his hands roughly through the curls of his hair, letting his fingers catch on the tangles and yanking through them in his frustration. Sweat glistens on his furrowed brow. His cheeks are still flushed from the heat of the car.

It’s the most emotion you’ve seen from him since you’ve come back.

The time you’ve already spent in Bahrain has been stilted at best. Lando continues to stick with his attempts at avoiding you, but it’s harder to do so here when your hotel rooms are on the same floor and you’re limited to the confines of the garage for most of the day. Even when he isn’t in the car, there’s not a lot to do wandering around the paddock and even if there was they’ve encouraged him to stay where he can easily be reached.

You’re trying not to be smug about it, but every time you glance over your shoulder and catch him watching you━ catch him quickly looking away when your eyes meet and he realizes he’s been caught━ you feel pleased.

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Lando, it’s that he’s always got a limit.

If you wait long enough, stand your ground and prove that you really have no intentions whatsoever of giving in and breaking the ice between the two of you, eventually he’ll cave. When he realizes he won’t get what he wants, that he’ll have to actually put in the effort to repair what he’s broken rather than having it magically fix itself, he’ll have no other choice but to do so.

“They might not cancel the session,” Oscar chimes in, attempting to placate his aggravated teammate. “Since they already had to yesterday, I doubt they’ll do it again today.”

Unfortunately, that doesn’t actually calm Lando down at all. If anything, it just reminds him again of the fact that this is the second time this same complication has happened which has him huffing angrily again and running his hands through his tangled curls even rougher.

You wince at that.

Andrea, McLaren’s team principal, steps forward. “Take a breath,” he orders, resting a heavy hand on Lando’s shoulder. “Go walk a lap around the garage or something, whatever, but I need you to calm down.”

You’re prepared for that to be the end of it, but then Andrea looks over and catches your eye. “Y/N,” he says, nodding his head towards Lando. “You go with him. Keep him out of trouble.”

Well.

You like to think you do a much better job at keeping your emotions off of your face than Lando, which isn’t hard when his features scrunch up into a pained scowl at Andrea’s words, but you can feel the pinch of your own eyebrows furrowing and the smile you send towards the team principal probably looks more like a grimace if Oscar pursed lips in your peripherals is anything to go by.

Lando storms out and you follow reluctantly after him.

He can’t really go very far, not if he wants to be within a reasonable distance when━ if━ they call him back to continue the morning testing session. So he paces back and forth and back and forth just outside the garage’s exit out into the paddock.

Your phone tells you that ten minutes pass like this. It’s the longest you’ve been alone with him in a while and his distraction lets you focus on the finer details that you’ve missed when he’s going out of his way to avoid you.

There are deep, dark, bruise-like circles that hang heavily beneath his eyes. His skin is sun-kissed and tanned from his time out catching rays during his travels, but there’s a pale pallor beneath the added color that makes him look sick. Despite his current anger and the tension coiled in his muscles just waiting to lash out and strike, his shoulders seem to droop beneath the invisible weight of whatever he’s carrying with him.

He looks small.

Lando’s always been on the shorter side, but he’s never before looked small. Not like this. Never like this.

The longer you watch, the more the back and forth pacing starts to transform into the anxious stride of a cornered animal.

You aren’t arrogant enough to assume he’s like this because of you entirely, but it does occur to you that maybe he’s having just as rough of a time as you are with the newfound distance between yourselves.

You watch him silently, for a little while longer, observing the way his stride hitches every few steps and he just barely manages to stop himself from stumbling over his own feet. He’s still running his hands through his hair. By the seventh time he practically claws his fingers through his curls you heave a sigh.

“Quit that,” you snap.

“Quit what?” He fires back with just as much bite.

You roll your eyes. “You’re gonna rip your hair out if you keep pulling on it like that.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he stops in his tracks and turns on his heel to face you with a sneer. His words drip with sarcasm. “I forgot you must be used to Grealish now, right? And I bet he’s got at least a ten-step hair care routine. I wonder, does he use unicorn sweat and essence of rainbow to keep it that smooth and bright? There’s no other possible way!”

“You’re being an asshole, Lando.”

“My sincerest apologies,” he says. “How could I ever think Grealish would use unicorn sweat of all things? He uses pixies tears, my mistake.”

You’re not sure how a few words managed to turn into this━ you’d just wanted him to stop pulling at his hair. It looked painful and he’s always been a bit tender headed. Now, instead, you can feel the anger bubbling up inside you and it seems like Lando’s frustrations about the testing delay, and your friendship with Jack apparently, have made things worse.

Like throwing gasoline onto a flame.

You scowl, “Seriously. You’re being a fucking prick.”

He throws his arms up into the air, “Why not just run off to Grealish then? Since he seems to be your new best friend and you tell him everything.”

If your life were a movie, this is the moment in time when the stars would align and fate would force everything to position itself perfect in place. Like the pieces of a puzzle, it would all work out and you’d calmly explain to Lando what happened back in January with Garrett and Manchester City, and he’d understand immediately and apologize, and you’d hug it out and then both return to the garage just in time for them to announce the testing session would re-commence.

But your life isn’t a movie, and reality feels significantly different to the scripted perfection of fiction.

The precarious security of the perch you’ve settled yourself upon comes crashing down, and the tentative balance you’ve managed to maintain since the start of February when you were back in papaya again shatters with it. Something inside you snaps. The dam has burst and everything held back comes rushing to the front like a torrential wave.

“At least he was there for me when some prick blackmailed me into a relationship at the threat of my livelihood,” you snarl.

Lando pauses for a moment. He makes a couple different faces before settling on a mix between pissed off and confused, and his arms cross over his chest. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I didn’t want to be in a relationship with Garrett Ward, Lando!” You exclaim. “He threatened that if I didn’t pretend to be his girlfriend, he’d fake some misconduct rumor and ruin my career and I was too afraid to say no because this is all I have!”

This isn’t how you’d wanted it all to go down. You’d always imagined you’d get the satisfaction of an apology, and that Lando would get drunk on cheap wine with you like old times, and you’d explain what all happened with the confidence of being a little tipsy and you wouldn’t feel ashamed because Lando’s your best friend and he’d reassure you that you did what you had to, and then you’d listen to him shit talk Garrett for the rest of the night. In the morning, he’d have some idea of how to fix it all without ruining your career, and then you’d be able to put it all behind you and go back to how things were before the winter off-season ever started.

This is far from that, but there’s a sense of relief that comes nonetheless from getting it all off your chest to Lando━ to the person you’ve wanted to talk to from the very beginning

You feel tears burning your eyes, blurring your vision. “I can barely pay my rent as is, and I’m only actually living there for a few dumb months out of the year anyway. Do you know how much worse it would be if I got kicked from McLaren too? Nobody else in the country would hire me if he followed through with what he was threatening.”

“Well,” Lando shrugs his shoulders, looking properly chastised. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I fucking tried, you muppet!” You throw your arms up in exasperation and then wipe at your eyes in frustration when the tears start to roll down your cheeks. “I called you every day for a week and you ignored me! I sent you text after text after fucking text━” your voice breaks, “━and you didn’t even read them! Did you know I locked myself in the bathroom and cried every single day I had to work there?”

You glare at him.

“The only thing that made it better was Jack fucking Grealish coming into my office and telling me I could at least go to him if I ever needed anything,” you snap. “So fuck off with this whole holier than thou bullshit. You left me, and Jack took your place because I was drowning!”

“Y/N…”

Crying hadn’t been a part of your plan, but the tears won’t stop now that they’re going. It’s embarrassing. You’re already worried about just how many people heard you shouting, and now you’re even more worried about someone coming back to look for you both and finding you sobbing your eyes out.

“I’m sorry━”

Lando’s arms wrap around you, warm and strong and sure.

━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @leclercsluv @f1luvur @formulaal @a-disturbing-self-reflection @starlightpierre @chezmardybum @marshmummy @405rry @sideboobrry11 @d3kstar @mcmuppet @happylittlereader @casperlikej @5starl1ght @bellezaycafe @whentheautumnleavesfall @mess-is-my-aesthetic @ssprayberrythings @landosgirlxoxo @lifelessfan @81ja @wcnorris @a-disturbing-self-reflection (CLOSED).

━━ a/n: and there we have it folks. lando is finally back in the picture! this part was a lot of fun to write, because i've been waiting for this moment since the initial fallout in the beginning. on that note, i finished getting it all whipped up this morning while watching the qualis, so if there are any mistakes that i haven't caught that's why. i was a bit distracted, so please pretend they aren't there haha!

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #social media au #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #ln4 #oscar piastri

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king-of-the-underworld-hades · 5 months

Note

Can you please do a Wednesday Addams & Enid Sinclair x Male Reader imagine? Where Reader is from a popular family of hybrids and tribrids, where Reader is a Vampire, a Witch and a Shapeshifter. And the three of them became roommates temporarily because there were no more available rooms for him in the boys' dormitory.

Tri-problem (Male)

Art by TanyaF2022 on X/Twitter.

You sigh as you feel the bumps of the road as the family chauffeur, Jack drives you to Nevermore Academy. You pull out your phone and start swiping on Instagram to see all your "friends" stories and whatnot. Rolling your eyes you start to block them all one by one. "Are you okay young sir?" Jack asks as he looks at you in the rearview mirror. "I told you to call me Y/N," you said annoyed. "But if you must know I'm just annoyed. Why am I being punished for something that my parents agree was the right action?" "Well, I doubt the school board was happy to hear you almost ended the life of your classmate," Jack said causing you to roll your eyes. "Please. No one would've missed him. He deserved it. He assaulted Normies to feed his ego. There is no excuse for that." "Yes, but you decided to, hex him, suck out almost two liters of his blood, and shapeshifted into a silverback gorilla to break both his arms," Jack said flatly. "And?" You said as if it wasn't a big deal. Jack just sighed.

"Well Mister L/N your father had informed me of your... predicament," Larissa Weems, the principal of Nevermore said as you sat across from her. "We have had your uniform custom made as your family requested but... I- uh..." she stumbled over her words causing you to raise an eyebrow. "We have no space in the boy's dormitory... and well... since you have no family in Jericho... I'm afraid you'll have to stay in the girls dormitory..." "You gotta be kidding me..."

She was indeed not kidding... here you were... standing in front of a dorm in Ophelia Hall... "Fuck my life..." You sigh and knock. Not like you had a choice all your stuff was there... "Enid. The door," you heard a flat cold muffled voice on the other side of the door "Coming~" you heard a second, sweeter warmer muffled voice. Soon the door was opened. "Hello...~ oh- I don't think I know you... have I seen around?" The girl asked her wide smile which showed off her sharp canines never faltering. She was about 5'2, had fair skin, rosy cheeks, pale blue eyes, blond hair with pink and blue tips, a pink sweater with white and maroon diamonds, a maroon skirt, and white thigh-high socks. You see that inside the dorm another girl was sitting at a desk writing in a typewriter. She had pale skin, black hair that was tied into two even braids, anthracite eyes, and a blank yet focused expression. She wore a pair of black boots, black jeans that went over the boots, a black shirt with white stripes that were slightly above her belly button, a black shirt with Ghostface on it that was the same length as the undershirt, a black vest, and a pair of black fingerless gloves. Before you were able to answer the blond girl's question, the ravenette turned and looked at you, her cold piercing gaze locked with your gaze as she spoke. "Y/N L/N. Correct?" Her voice was cold and monotone. "...Y-Yeah..." You mumble as the blonde's expression lit up. "You're our new roomie!" She exclaimed grabbing your hand and pulling you inside. Now inside you, we're able to see the room clearer. It was split in half, the spider web window was only halfway filled with color on, what you assume is the blonde's side, the other side had no color and was just normal glass with no tint. The blonde's side of the room was very colorful. Her bed frame was white and her blanket was splattered with multiple colors, her bed was on top of a puzzle-like rug with each piece being colored differently, ribbons were hanging from the ceiling, and a desk littered with notebooks, markers, pens, etc. A bean bag chair, posters, and so much more. The ravenette's side was the complete opposite. There was a lamp, a black cello, a black sheet music stand, a desk with a black typewriter, a black bed, and a black leather chair. All your stuff was neatly set in a corner of the room. The blonde let go of her hand as she looked at you her grin somehow wider. "My name is Enid Sinclair! I'm a Fur, AKA a werewolf! Nice to meet you roomie!" Enid said excitingly as she went to the ravenette and grabbed her cheeks making her look at you. "This is Wednesday Addams! She may look gloomy but she's a softie!" Enid exclaimed before Wednesday leaned away scowling. "...Nice to meet two..." You mumbled. "So~," Enid said as she leaned closer to you so close you could feel her breath on your face. "What are you? Fur, Scales, Fangs, Psychic, or something else?" She asked curiously. "Personal space Enid," Wednesday reprimanded her from her chair causing Enid to lean back pouting muttering "I was just asking..." under her breath. "I'm a tribrid... I'm part Vampire, Witch, and Shapeshifter," You explained as Wednesday stood from her typewriter. "Your family is known for that are they not?" Wednesday asked rhetorical. "Your family is known for giving birth to Hybrids and Tribrids," She said monotone with her cold expression. "Yeah... they are," you said as Wednesday nodded. "Weems had informed us of your... incident. Try to behave yourself," Wednesday said as she headed for the door. "Unpack and try not to make a mess of things," she said before leaving. "She always like that?" You ask. "Pretty much," replies Enid.

As the next two weeks passed you got accustomed to living with the two. You found out that Enid would try and snoop when you were on your phone or laptop to find something to put on her blog. When you caught her she blushed and turned away but after that day she would randomly ask to things, favorite color, would you rathers, song taste, etc. You got used to "Addams schedule," as Enid calls it. Basically when she did her writing when she wanted to be left alone, when she would leave for coffee, etc.

As time went on Wednesday had admitted she got used to your presence and even let you watch her write. Yoko, a fellow vampire and friend of Enid said that most Vamipres have a calming presence around them. Ironic. So since Wednesday hadn't really spent a prolonged time near vampires she was getting a heavy dose of it.

Enid on the other hand would paint your nails, do your hair, take you on friend dates, etc. You would talk to her about werewolf stuff, since you had cousins who were part werewolf you could relate in some aspects. After five months of living with the roommates, Weems came to visit.

"Hello girls, and Mr. L/N." "Yo," you did a two-finger salute from Enid's bed, your head in her lap as she dyed the tips of your hair. "I have news, one of the boys has moved out of his dorm as his parents found a suitable house in Jericho, so that means that Mr. L/N here will finally be moving to the boys' dorm. Fun!" Weems said with a smile but Enid stood up causing your head to fall onto the mattress. "What!? B-but he can't- I mean-," Enid stammered but Wednesday spoke I'm her usual monotone and cold tone. "What Enid is trying to say is we don't wish for Y/N's leave. He's been here for six months now. We have grown attached. So much so," Wednesday said as she stood from her desk and walked over to you, who had sat up. She cupped your face, causing you to raise an eyebrow, she then leaned down and kissed you softly. Her hands were cold to the touch. Her lips were soft and plush and tasted like coffee. Wednesday soon pulled away and looked at Weems. "We've started a polygamous relationship," She said as she looked at Enid who was blushing. Enid quickly walked over to you and kissed you as well. She was nervous, unlike Wednesday. Her lips were warm and soft. They also tasted like milk tea. Weems blinked a few times at this action. "W-well... this certainly complicated things..." she said as she looked at you. "I will... talk to your mother... see what she says about this...," She spoke before leaving. You were flustered and confused. The room was silent for a few seconds before Wednesday spoke. "I have him Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. We share Sunday." "T-that works..." Enid mumbled. "The fuck just happened?" You ask as Wednesday rolls her eyes. "You just got two girlfriends."

#male reader #reader insert #wedensday x you #wednesday addams x male reader #wednesday x reader #enid sinclair #king of the underworld hades #wednesday fluff #enid fluff #enid x reader #enid x male reader

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riordanness · 9 months

Text

fictional — [p.jackson]

pairing: percy jackson x reader

wordcount: 2.1K

warnings: none

‘i put myself in another world, where i can be any other girl, cause i don’t really wanna face it. cause if it isn’t real you can pretend all you want…’

I sigh as the lyrics of ‘Fictional’ by Khloe Rose filter through my headphones. My head leans against the cool glass window of the bus, bumping my forehead every time the driver goes over a pothole.

Hey, call me crazy, but this is probably the most relatable song in existence. At least to me. Falling in love with boys from books and movies was basically my job at this point.

I had one, though, that meant more than all my other ‘fictional boyfriends’.

Percy Jackson.

I’d grown up with this character, laughed with him, cried with him, held fast and braved the storm with him. I’d adopted his personality, tried to be like his girlfriend, acted as if we were best friends, talked to him, dreamt about him, read and written fanfiction about him, anything you can think of. I am obsessed, and no, I’m not ashamed of that fact.

I’m five years running with this crush now, and it’s not going anytime soon. I let out another sigh as I realise, yet again, that this is impossible. He’s fictional, as much as it hurts to admit. He isn’t real, and I can’t live my whole life pretending to date and marry a fictional character. Life just doesn’t work like that. Sadly.

The bus pulls up at school, and I climb off, slipping my headphones into my pocket. I’ll probably get them back out during a boring lecture in one of my classes, but for now I’ll just keep the daydreaming at a minimum.

“Hey, girl.” Andie sidles up to me, nudging me with her shoulder. “What’s kicking?”

“Nothing,” I deadpan. “Unless you’re a goat, like Grover Underwood.”

Andie laughs, my sarcastic comment going right over her head. I love her to death, seriously, but the girl hasn’t got an ounce of sarcasm in her. She’s the most literal and honest person ever, but she’s also super sweet and sincere. So, sarcasm isn’t even a word she knows.

“I’m not a goat, silly,” she giggles. “But guess what?!”

“Yeah?” I am actually kind of interested. Andie usually has all the gossip (somehow), so her news tends to be pretty good.

“There’s a new guy in our class today,” she squeals. “Apparently he just moved here from New York.”

“New York is where Percy Jackson lives,” I say automatically. “I wanna visit there someday so bad.”

Andie rolls her pretty eyes. She likes Percy Jackson. I made her read the books, and she did, but just so that she knows what I’m talking about most of the time. “You and your fictional boys, I swear. This is a real boy, y/n! You need to get your head out of a book for once if you ever wanna meet somebody.”

I shrug. “Real boys suck though.”

And even Andie can’t argue with that.

I’m doodling in my notebook, half listening to Mr Mintar explain something about geometry. I’m not terrible at maths, so I figure I’ll just catch up if I need to. My brain doesn’t want to pay attention today.

I perk up, though, when I hear something new.

“Students,” Mrs May, our principal, announces. “We have a new student joining us today. Please be kind to Mr Jackson and show him around. Remember, you were once a new student yourself.”

Jackson? Like Percy Jackson? How cool is that, I thought to myself. I yank my headphones out of my ears and glance up.

A boy is talking quietly with Mr Mintar; who is probably explaining what we’re learning and where he’ll sit. We have assigned seats in basically every class, because a few boys in our grade are idiots, so I sit alone in every class. Apparently, other students are very likely to copy my work if they’re sitting with me, so the teachers decided to make me sit alone all the time. It’s kind of okay, though. Means I can do whatever I want with no one to tell on me for listening to music.

I watch as Mr Mintar talks with his hands, waving them a lot. The boy has his back to me. He has messy black hair, and he’s wearing jeans, converse and a blue hoodie.

Mr Mintar gestures at me, and I sit up straight. The boy glances quickly, nods at Mr Mintar, and I realise what’s happening. He’s being assigned to sit with me, which probably means I'll also be assigned his personal ‘welcome-to-our-school’ guide. Which means I’ll be forced to be this guy’s friend for the next few weeks. Yay.

The boy turns to face me, and I swear my heart literally skipped a beat. Now, this wasn’t like those dumb fanfics where a girl’s celebrity crush just so happens to turn up at her school for some stupid reason, and they fall in love blah blah blah.

This was an honest-to-goodness ‘what the hell is happening’ moment. The boy now walking towards me looks exactly how I’ve always pictured Percy Jackson in my mind. The same crazily messy black hair, loose and slightly curled at the edges, twisting around his ears and falling in his eyes a little bit. He has the same smattering of freckles on his nose, the same tan skin, troublemaker grin, the same glint of determination in his eyes.

And gosh, I’d know those sea-green eyes anywhere.

The boy slides into the seat beside me. “Hi,” he says softly. “You’re y/n?”

I can’t do anything but nod, and I try to not stare at him too hard.

“You’re supposed to be my guide, or something, I think.” The boy sounds apologetic, like he knows how annoying being forced to be a school guide is. “And I’m supposed to sit with you in all my classes.”

I nod again, a little dazed. Even his voice is Percy Jackson-coded. A slight rasp, a little accented, ugh.

I find my voice. “That’s cool. I’d be happy to show you around and get you into the groove of things here at East High.”

The boy smiles, and he has little crinkles at the side of his pretty eyes, as if he smiles a whole lot.

“Awesome. I’m Percy by the way.”

I blink at him, absolutely sure he’s pulling my leg somehow. “What do you mean?” I ask.

Percy frowns. “Like… my name? The thing that people call me? It’s Percy. Percy Jackson.”

I just stare at him.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks.

“Your name is Percy Jackson?”

“Yeah?”

“Like the book character,” I add, surprising myself with the calm in my voice. Inside my head, though, I was screaming.

Percy’s brow furrows. “A book character? I dunno. Never heard of a book character called Percy, but there probably is. I don’t read that much. Dyslexia.”

I nod slowly. “Of course.”

Percy frowns again, then chuckles a little. “You’re weird. I like you.”

My tongue feels like someone’s deep fried it in the microwave. I try to swallow, and it’s nearly impossible. “So you’re not messing with me right now? You’re really called Percy Jackson, and you have dyslexia and probably ADHD, and sea-green eyes, and your hair isn’t dyed, and…”

Percy laughs again. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, and yes. What’s this about?”

I shake my head. “You wouldn’t understand if I told you.”

Percy raises his eyebrow. “Try me.”

It’s been a week since Percy’s arrival, and I’m still about 89% sure I’m dreaming. Not that I usually dream like this, but still.

I’ve spent basically all my school hours with Percy, as well as half my bus rides home, as his mum lives nearby to us.

The longer I know him, the more I’m sure that he’s real, that he’s actually here, and that he’s really, truly, Perseus Jackson, the not-so-fictional boy I’ve been in love with forever.

The weirdest thing, though, is the night after he arrived, I got home and all my Percy Jackson books and merch were gone. Mysteriously vanished. Even Andie doesn’t know what I’m talking about when I bring up PJO.

It’s like that movie, Yesterday, where everyone forgets about the Beatles. It’s like that, but with Percy Jackson. Oh, and obviously I have a real Percy to replace it; whereas Jack in that movie didn’t really have that.

Anyway, it’s crazy, it’s probably a hallucination, and it’s absolutely incredible. I’m spending every single day with my absolute favourite person in the universe, and he’s real.

The boy I’ve cried over, laughed over, loved for years… He’s here. He’s real. And he’s my friend.

“Marshmallows are not designed to be eaten alone,” I argue, pouting a french fry at Percy. “They aren’t even that nice anyway, but especially not when you eat them dry. All the powder, like, clogs up your throat and it’s disgusting. If you eat them on their own, you’re crazy.”

Percy laughs. “I hate them in my hot chocolates. They get all gooey and mushy, and… ugh.” He makes a face.

I roll my eyes. “You’re insane.”

Percy shrugs. “At least I don’t hate rice.”

“Hey!” I protest. “I have sensory issues! It’s not my fault the feeling of rice in my mouth makes me feel sick.”

“Hey, I know,” Percy says. “I was just kidding. I’m sorry.”

I relax. “It’s okay.”

I stare at him a moment, realising once again that this is really happening to me. That his pretty sea-green eyes are actually looking at me.

“What are you thinking about, love?”

“Huh?” I snap out of my trance, sitting up straighter. “What did you say?”

Percy smirks. “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

To be honest, I barely remember. “Uh—nothing. Trying to think of what to do this afternoon after school.”

“You don’t have plans?” he asks.

I shake my head, and sip my chocolate milk. It tastes terrible.

“You’re going on a date with me, dummy,” Percy says, so casually I almost miss it. He leans his head back and throws a grape in the air, catching it in his mouth. It’s surprisingly attractive.

“Wait,” I say. “What?”

“You.” Percy points his finger at me, then himself. “Me.” He makes a swirling motion with his finger. “That new waterpark by the beach.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You’re asking me to go on a date with you?”

“You aren’t saying no.”

“No,” I reply, my voice soft, “I’m not.”

“Wow,” I say. “That’s an epic waterpark.”

Percy grins down at me, his eyes looking extra pretty in the afternoon sunlight. “You wanna race to the gate?”

I pretend to think about it for a second, then begin sprinting as fast as I can. I hear Percy gasp in laughter, then start after me. He catches me easily, his legs much longer than mine, but as he does, he scoops me up into a hug.

“Hey!” I shriek. “Put me down!”

I can tell he isn’t taking me seriously though, because we’re both laughing too hard. Percy eventually drops me gently on the ground. I can’t help but suddenly miss the feeling of his bare chest against me. I blink, and instantly shake those thoughts away.

“Buy me an ice cream and I’ll let you win all our races from now on,” I tease.

Percy scoffs. “Darlin’, you couldn’t win if you had a jetpack on.”

I try to ignore the flutter in my chest and roll my eyes. “Could so, and I don’t need any old jetpack.” I flex my nonexistent muscles. “You see these? I’m perfectly fine on my own, thank you.”

“Oh, oh yeah of course. Sorry, your majesty.” Percy has a stupid grin on his face, and I have an urge to kiss him right then and there.

And so I do. I grab hold of his shoulders, pull myself up onto tiptoe, and press my mouth to his. “I love you, Seaweed Brain,” I whisper into his lips.

Percy wraps his arms around my waist, causing the flutter to return, more greatly this time. He deepens the kiss, his head tilting downwards to accommodate my shorter height. His lips taste of the jellybeans we were eating earlier together. He had insisted on eating only the blue ones, of course.

The world around me blurs, and fades, and I’m left with only him, only Percy Jackson. His fingers on my waist, his mouth on mine, my heart in his hands. I am completely and totally his, as I’ve been forever, but now? He’s completely and totally mine too. My not-so-fictional boy.

#percy jackson #pjo #fanfiction #fanfic #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x reader fanfic #percy jackson fanfiction #walker scobell #percy jackson and the olympians #rick riordan #pjo series #pjo tv show #percy jackson x you #perseus jackson #fictional characters #fictional boys #fictional khloe rose

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starkwlkr · 7 months

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mother (no, literally) | f1

I’m so happy you guys are loving this series 🫶🏼 this one has a bit of a time skip lol

part 1 part 2

“Did you hear the news?”

“What news?” Lando asked. It was the first race since coming back from summer break and Lando was excited. He had arrived a bit early so he could eat breakfast with his grid mom, but the mention of ‘news’ stopped him.

“Y/n is out of for the rest of the season. Porsche announced it yesterday.” His PR manager, Charlotte, told him.

“Who’s taking her seat?” He asked.

“Juan Manuel Correa.”

Lando stayed silent. He started to think of the worst possible scenarios. He knew she went to to Mykonos with Charlie for her break since she posted on Instagram and texted him that she got him several gifts. Did something happen on her vacation? He prayed that she was okay.

“Do you know if Adam is in the garage?” Lando asked.

“Yeah, he’s still there.”

And so Lando was off to the Porsche garage in search of their team principal. He definitely had the answers. After greeting the engineers, Lando spotted Adam talking with Juan Manuel Correa.

“Hey, man.” Lando greeted the older man. “Where’s Y/n?.”

Both Adam and Juan Manuel looked at Lando with a sorry look. “Did something happen to her? She didn’t text me anything about leaving Porsche.” Lando wanted the truth.

“She’s not leaving. She’s taking a break and don’t ask me for how long, I have no idea when she’ll be back, but for now we have Juan and I’m sure he’ll do an excellent job. Excuse us, we have to have a short meeting right now. Don’t worry, Lando, she’s not sick or injured. She’s fine, actually she’s more than fine.” Adam squeezed Lando’s shoulder as he passed by to get to his team.

“Do you know something?” Lando asked Juan.

“It’s not my place to tell.” Juan said then excused himself to follow his team principal.

Lando figured that if it was one thing bad then surely someone would tell him. But he received no answers.

TIME SKIP BROUGHT TO YOU BY MARK WEBBER’S DILFNESS

The F1 off season was here and Lando had plans. First, he needed to see his grid mother. It had been months since he last saw her and everytime he tried to make time to go see her, she wasn’t home. He found it odd, but at least she responded back to his messages.

Y/n was in her LA home with Charlie making dinner. She had found several recipes she wanted to try out. Her belly had grown, obviously, and she couldn’t hide it anymore. When she went out with Charlie, she would wear baggy clothes, but now those same baggy clothes couldn’t hide her bump.

“I’ve been thinking.” Y/n mentioned, grabbing a chocolate covered strawberry and eating it. “We never talked about godparents. Do you have anyone in mind?”

“I assumed Lando would be the obvious choice even if he doesn’t know about the baby.” Charlie replied, grabbing a strawberry and eating it.

“He was my first choice the second I found out. But I thought that you would choose one of your friends or costars from sons of anarchy.” Y/n stood up from her chair to check on the mac and cheese in the oven.

“If you think Lando should be our baby’s godfather then he should. He’s a great kid, babe. He’s technically your first kid.” Charlie teased.

“I miss my grid kids.”

The doorbell had rung meaning Lando had arrived. It was Charlie’s idea to have dinner with Lando to tell him the news. Well . . Once he noticed the big baby bump on Y/n, he would get an idea. While Charlie went to answer the door, Y/n got the mac and cheese out the oven.

Lando had gotten used to being around Charlie. Sure, he was a bit skeptical at first, but once he got to know the man, he knew that Charlie was the one for his grid mom.

“Hey, mate. How was your flight?” Cherie greeted Lando once he opened the door.

“Same as all the others. How are you and the missus?” Lando asked, bringing in his suitcase since he was going to stay with Y/n and Charlie for a couple of days.

“We’re great. Y/n was counting down the days until you got here. She’s in the kitchen. Babe? Lando’s here.” Charlie announced as him and Lando walked towards the kitchen.

The younger driver was stunned when he saw how much Y/n had changed. It it wasn’t a bad change, it was the best change. She smiled at Lando and walked to him to give him a hug.

“You’re pregnant! That’s amazing! Oh my god, you’re going to be an actual mum!” Lando gasped. “Is this why you’ve been hiding?”

“Pretty much. I didn’t want to make my pregnancy public until the birth. I wanted to make sure everything was okay. But it’s more than okay. Baby Hunnam is healthy and growing so fast.” Y/n explained.

“I’m happy for you. Wow, you’re going to be a mum.” He said it as if he couldn’t believe it. “Congratulations to both of you. Do you know the gender yet?”

“We decided to keep it a secret until the birth.” Charlie added.

“Well I think one thing is certain. Baby Hunnam is going to have a lot of overprotective uncles when they make their paddock debut.”

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 driver!reader #lando norris #lewis hamilton #charles leclerc #carlos sainz jr #george russell #oscar piastri #logan sargeant #mick schumacher #alex albon

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flowerandblood · 10 months

Text

The Man in the Black Mask

[ Amor • Aemond x Psyche • female ]

[ warnings: angst, violence, assassination attempt, mention of the murder of multiple people, descriptions of murders ]

[ description: After she is attacked in a fair by a strange man and narrowly avoids death, her father the king decides that from now on she will be watched over by one of his 'ghosts', a assassin acting on his orders, wearing a black mask. The man follows her like a shadow, accompanied by their past, which keeps her awake at night. Gothic horror love story, angst, sexual tension, very dark Aemond. ]

This story is several requests combined into one: sworn protector x female; Amor x Psyche; Phantom of the Opera! Aemond x female. I took the liberty of creating a completely new story from this, having only elements of each of these requests.

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* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Her father, the King, only realised how many enemies he had after a man dared to attack her while she was strolling around the fair during one of her walks. He wanted to get closer to her and slipped a dagger out from behind his cloak − if it hadn't been for the woman selling fish and her shouting, she wouldn't have noticed him or the steel gleaming in his hand.

She did what any other person in her position would have done, which is to say, she screamed in terror, stepping back, bumping into a wooden makeshift table full of vegetables, which toppled over with her − the assassin gave up at the last moment, terrified by the sudden outbreak of panic, and disappeared among the crowd.

Some elderly man helped her up, the knights of her father's guard rode up on horseback, alarmed by these frightened noises. One of them, Ser Lucas, her father's friend from his youth and the great rebellion furrowed his brow as he saw her face.

"Princess?"

She wasn't sure if her father was more furious with her or with the man who had tried to attack her. He commented on her irresponsibility and disobedience, her recklessness, and expressed outrage that her guards had not even noticed how she had escaped them.

"I just wanted to see the fair, my King." She said in a trembling voice without looking at him; she stood before him with her hair loose, wearing a beautiful navy blue gown with sleeves that reached to the ground − her shoulders were bare, on her hips a delicate golden belt made up of tiny eyes in which sapphires were framed.

"That's enough." He said agitated and impatient, raising his hand in a gesture of frustration, his dark hair and beard adding to his seriousness, his brow furrowed in anger. "Until you learn prudence, one of my ghosts will not leave your side."

She looked at him, horrified, and then turned her gaze to the man standing beside him, a few steps behind his throne, his figure hidden completely in shadow. He was dressed all in black, a hood over his head and a black mask on which a single tear was outlined under his right eye.

It was said that it was molded so that the people they were killing would have the feeling that they had compassion for them, that they were just a tool used by someone else.

People called them ghosts because they weren't seen on a daily basis – or at least that's what it was believed. They were forbidden to take off their mask or speak to anyone but her father, and were his principal emissaries that found his enemies, invigilated them and killed them.

Since the days of the rebellion and the overthrow of the earlier king, her father was perpetually in fear of an attempt on his or his children's lives, so he found, she supposed, people desperate or fond of killing, those who owed him everything and had no reason to betray them.

She passed and saw them extremely rarely, only during sumptuous feasts in the company of guests or gatherings of magnates from all over the country.

They stood then by her father's side, as always in the shadows, though invisible, constantly reminding her of their presence with their very posture, menacing and stony, the people around them afraid to look at them.

She didn't know how many of them there were in total; they were almost identical and differed only in height, besides that they wore the same clothes, masks, hoods and black leather gloves, probably to avoid staining their skin with blood.

The thought that someone like that was to accompany and guard her sent shivers down her spine − she had feared that her father would now know of her every move, that she would never leave the fortress again.

She lowered her gaze, saying no more, listening to his orders to find the man who had attacked her, whom she had described in detail to the other ghosts.

She left, feeling that if she stayed there another moment she would vomit.

It seemed to her that these black hooded figures were sucking the life out of everyone around them, that they were a walking harbinger of death and misery.

That night she heard his voice for the first time.

Her guards were outraged when he dismissed them.

"You are not a King, by what right do you command us?" Asked one of them, a cold, deep, mocking voice answered them.

"Shall I inform the King that not only are you incapable of guarding his daughter, but you refuse to obey his orders?"

She heard someone's growl and an unclear voice full of impatience, the clack of steel and armour proving that they had walked away − she was left alone with the cold murderer outside her door.

She pressed her lips together, felt her eyes burning due to the gathering tears at the realization that she had never felt more alone and abandoned than she did now.

She wriggled in bed, as she did every day, unable to fall asleep. It was raining loudly outside and she looked towards the window, seeing nothing but darkness. She felt small and even though she was lying under several thick furs, she was cold.

She rose slowly, putting a soft cashmere shawl over her shoulders, lighting a candle that illuminated her chamber with a pleasant, warm glow.

There is a man behind that mask, she thought.

He was not a ghost.

If she made any kind of bond with him, she would stop being afraid of him.

She walked to her door and stood in front of it for a long moment, feeling her heart pounding hard and fast. She swallowed hard and opened it with a loud creak of old wood.

Her candle instantly illuminated his figure − he was standing exactly opposite her door, leaning against the wall with his hands clasped in front of him. She wondered if he was asleep in that position, but after a moment she noticed something behind the translucent black material in the area cut out for his eyes, a blue iris staring at her.

She looked at him for a moment, wondering if he would move, but he stood like a statue − it seemed to her as if he were made of stone.

Was he supposed to stand like that all the time?

Her father had told her that he would gift her his one ghost.

Would they be exchanging? After all, he had to sleep at some point.

"What's your name?" She asked uncertainly, softly, wanting to sound as open and honest as possible.

Silence.

A long one.

"How am I supposed to address you if I don't know what your name is?" She asked again, looking at him pleadingly, asking him to let her at least get a little closer to him, to be able to give him humanity.

Silence.

She pressed her lips together and thought something else would make him speak.

"Should I complain to the king about you not answering my questions?" She asked lowly, wrinkling her eyebrows, wondering where she had got the courage to speak to this man in this way. A shudder went through her when she heard him let out a breath, as if he had given up, resigned.

"Call me any name you see fit." He said in a low, deep, indifferent tone, as if the fact that he had to speak to her frustrated him incredibly and he didn't understand what she wanted from him.

She felt a tightening in her throat at the thought that there was no more human thing than being given a name − it was the first thing given to a child at birth, and he renounced it.

"Shall I name you?" She asked shaking her head, not understanding what he was implying − he turned his face to the side, despite the mask she could feel the growing impatience beating from him.

"Yes. My Princess." He added after a moment, his words razor-sharp, cool, angry, mocking. She had the impression that he treated her interest as something completely unnecessary − apparently it suited him to remain in the shadows and he had no intention of coming out of it.

She looked at him with pain mixed with disappointment and thought he reminded her of one of the horrific mythological beasts her mother had once read to her about before bed, a great mighty dragon that sowed death and destruction.

"Vhagar."

She heard the word she had spoken echoed, followed only by the sound of rain, and felt that there was something final in what she had done.

"I will always treat you with respect and I will never make you do anything to humiliate you or offend your good name." She choked out with difficulty, wanting him to understand that they were condemned to each other and that this in itself was a misfortune, however, it would be even more so if they both pretended that he didn't exist, that he was just her shadow that followed her everywhere.

He did not respond.

She closed herself back into her chamber only walking towards her bed feeling that her legs were trembling. She lay down on her bed covering herself with thick furs, frozen and terrified, closing her eyes, praying to the gods to show her mercy.

That they would not lock her away in this cold, stone fortress forever until her father claimed to have found a suitable candidate for her to marry.

As she did every day, she also prayed for someone else.

Someone who had lived in this chamber before her.

The next day she got up awake, a terrible headache accompanying her from the moment she opened her eyes. She sat down at the table, covering herself with her shawl − overnight the wood in her fireplace had burned out.

She lifted her gaze as she heard the door to her chamber open, her servants entering with golden trays on which they served her breakfast.

She saw Vhagar follow them inside, his hands entwined behind his back − it seemed to her that his footsteps made no sound, that he could sneak up on someone silently.

"You're supposed to taste everything first." He said to one of them dryly and emotionlessly − the girl looked at him apprehensively, clearly already knowing stories of men of his ilk and what they did.

"My Lord?" She choked out, clearly not understanding what he was asking her.

"Anything the Princess wants to eat or drink − you are to taste it first. This is how it will be from now on with everything you bring her. Do you understand?" He asked coolly and insistently, and she nodded, lowering her gaze, pale.

"Is this necessary, Vhagar?" She asked looking at him with a furrowed brow − he turned his face towards her but answered nothing. He looked back at her servant after a moment.

"Begin."

"I've lost my appetite. Take this away. You can eat it all, let it not go to waste." She said raising her hand, allowing them to leave turning her head to the side, looking blankly at her wardrobe standing on the other side of the chamber.

She saw out of the corner of her eye that he hadn't moved from his spot, that he was looking at her, his aura giving her shivers.

She knew he was about to say something.

"My Princess…" He started and she turned her face towards him. "…are you going to eat your meal, or do I have to shove it down your throat?"

She looked at him with huge eyes, feeling her heart pounding fast.

She thought with horror that he was mad.

"That is all, Vhagar. You may leave." She said in an unobjectionable voice, clasping her hands in her lap, trying to hide how much they were trembling.

He stared at her, his black tear-streaked mask seeming even more frightening and mocking to her, cold and lifeless.

"Mmm." He hummed, though it sounded more like a purr, bowed barely visibly and left her chamber.

She let out a loud breath, burying her face in her hands, feeling a desperate burbling in her stomach from hunger, thinking that she would not give him the satisfaction of letting him dominate her life, ordering her servants around, locking her in a cage.

She asked her servants to help her dress − she put on this time a light-coloured gown with a fine gold belt around her hips made up of tiny chains, some of her hair pinned back in a bun, some falling down her bare back, her sleeves reaching all the way to the ground.

She walked out of her chamber without looking at him, without telling him where she was going, hearing that he immediately moved to follow her.

Her shadow.

She saw the ladies of the court looking at her, terrified of who was accompanying her, as if she were being followed by death itself − people turned their faces away and froze in silence, not knowing what to do, how to react to this unwanted sight.

She headed for the main castle library hearing him enter behind her − he stopped at the door when it slammed behind them, standing in front of it with his hands folded behind his back.

She was starving and decided to distract her mind with some reading. She picked up a few books on the history of her kingdom, sitting down at one of the large oak tables right by the window to get more light. She opened one of the books in front of her, looking for the chapter that interested her.

"You may sit down, Vhagar." She said dispassionately, not wanting him to think she expected him to stand there like some stone pillar, but he didn't move from his place.

An hour passed before he spoke to her, snapping her out of her reverie.

"You need to eat." He communicated a little more softly than before − she felt him looking at her, but she did not lift her gaze to him, uninterested.

"My servants will not taste my food. You yourself watch the cooks and what they put on my platters." She replied with reserve, answered by a long silence.

"Very well."

She looked up at him, sighing quietly, his face turned towards her − she knew what was the reason for his impatience, what he was afraid of.

What would the King think if it turned out that under his watch she had begun to refuse food and starve herself? How would that reflect on him as her protector?

She rose from her seat, putting her books slowly back on the shelf, returning to her chamber without changing another word with him.

As she sat down to supper with her father, her younger brother, and his closest associates, the King immediately asked her what she thought of her new sworn protector, who stood behind her chair right next to the wall, as usual, hidden completely in the shadows.

She swallowed loudly a piece of the roast she had just had in her mouth, noticing with a kind of discomfort that her father spoke of him as if he had given her a thing, not a man.

"Thank you, Father, I do indeed feel safer in his presence." She lied, clutching the wine cup in her hand and taking a loud sip from it, wanting to end the subject quickly.

The King nodded, looking impatiently to his confidant secretary, a companion to all the major battles won during the rebellion.

"Has Prince Aemond's body been found at last? It's been eight years, for goodness sake." He said sternly, impatient; as far as she understood, only his body of the entire Targaryen family had not been found after the great massacre that had taken place in the fortress where they were now feasting.

Lord Ronan grunted loudly, shifting in his seat, blinking rapidly as if thinking of what to answer.

"We are getting closer, my King. We're searching the city's underground, likely to find his corpse soon. The cut of the sword fell right on his face, he couldn't have survived that." He said with a certainty that was filled with the need to sound as convincing as possible, which did not escape her or her father attention.

She lowered her gaze, setting down her cup with a loud clang of steel on the wooden tabletop, looking down at her plate, losing her appetite completely.

The entire royal family slaughtered in their beds after her father at the head of the army stormed into the fortress, elected by the people to rule after the inept reign of King Viserys.

"With apologies, I will retire to my chamber. My King. My Prince. My Lords." She said bowing in turn and moved ahead, not waiting for her father's permission − she heard rustling behind her, she knew her ghost had not left her side.

They walked in silence through the dark corridors of the fortress illuminated only by the warm light of torches − she knew the way to her chamber by heart. Her mind, however, was elsewhere, wondering what would happen if Prince Aemond lived.

If he came in with his army and slit their throats as her father had done to his family.

She stood in front of the door to her chamber, glancing up at his tall black figure towering over her like a cold shadow.

"Thank you for your devotion, Vhagar. Rest now." She said turning her head and opened the door, but stood in half step, surprised to hear his voice behind her.

"How does it feel to sleep where she slept?" He asked with a kind of excitement, as if the thought of it gave him satisfaction.

She felt her heart start pounding like mad, a cold sweat on her back at the thought of Princess Helaena bleeding to death in the bed she was now sleeping in.

She looked up at him − in the light of the torch she could see through the black fabric his blue irises, his pupil looking at her in such a way that she had the impression that he was a predator who was looking at his prey, whose entrails he was about to tear apart.

She was silent for a long moment.

"Horrible." She said dispassionately lowering her gaze.

"I imagine her lying in my place and all I can think about is that the same thing will happen to me one day." She muttered, feeling his heavy gaze on her − there was some kind of tension between them, though she didn't know why. "I pray every day for her forgiveness."

"Ghosts do not forgive." He said coldly, as if stating some foreboding, indisputable fact − she looked at him with a pained expression, furrowing her brow.

"What else can I do?" She asked in a trembling voice, but got no answer, his black mask with a tear running down his cheek looked at her indifferently.

"Sleep well, Princess."

_____

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flippinpancakes64 · 2 months

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Uhm, I was wondering if you could do Cullens x quiet, insomniac! Reader who is silent and ignores people, but when someone makes a single comment about the cullens, they snap? And what would be the cullens reactions?

The Cullens with a reader who defends them

This ask is so cute I love it omg

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy

Edward:

He hears what people think about him and his family all the time

People think his family is weird

They think he's a loner

It's nothing new to him when he hears people whispering at the lunch table next to them

What IS new, though, is you whipping around in your chair to give those two girls an earful

He just sits there stunned as you throw insult after insult at them in HIS name

He is so shocked

And in love

He kisses you right then and there

He tries to tell you that you don't need to do that, but you don't listen obvs

He can tell that you keep defending him from the thoughts he hears from other people

He's not gonna stop you though

He will tell you that he doesn't mind what people think about him

You don't care

Alice:

She doesn't even have an opportunity to get a vision about what's gonna happen

She's chattering on and on in the back of the class as you sit next to her, silently listening

She's talking about the weather, about her new dress, her new shoes, a show she started watching last night, and everything in between

The classroom is mostly silent besides her as everyone completes their work

Suddenly one of the boys sitting directly in front of you two leans over to his friend and says "Damn, does that weirdo Cullen bitch ever shut up?"

You act so quickly she doesn't even have the chance to stop you

You stand up and start yelling at the boys, throwing every insult in the world their way

The teacher has to tell you to stop, and Alice pulls you out of the classroom to calm down

You start apologizing, saying that it must be because you're so sleep deprived

She just smiles and gives you the fattest kiss ever

Going forward, she does not stop you

She just loves that you love her so much you would be willing to step out of your comfort zone for her

Jasper:

You two are split up into different teams in gym class

He's standing across the gym and you can see him doing his deep-breathing exercises to keep himself from hurting anyone

He's staring into space, not really at any one particular thing

A girl leans over to you and whispers "Oh my gosh, look at the Cullen freak over there... he's so weird."

You throw your dodgeball at her face as hard as you can

She has to go down to the nurse, and you get sent to the principal's office, Jasper comes with you

On the way there, he starts asking a million questions

What happened, why did you do that, are you okay

You tell him about what she said, how you just couldn't let her get away with that

He tries so hard and you know that, it wasn't fair of her to make fun of him

He stops and just looks at you, before pulling you into a huge hug

He doesn't say anything for a while, until you hear him whisper a "thank you"

You get suspended for two days

Jasper stays home with you <3

Rosalie:

She doesn't give a shit what people think of her on a personal level

Like genuinely she couldn't care less

And you're always so calm and quiet that she never expected this

She's walking through the hallways with you and she accidentally bumps into someone

Or in her words, someone bumps into her

She shoots them a nasty look and tells them to watch where they're going

And they call her a bitch

And you go off

She doesn't tell you to stop

Eventually a teacher has to pull you away

You are fuming

Rosalie pulls you aside and helps you calm down

"You know, you don't need to defend me.. but that was really hot ;)"

She won't stop you in the future either

She loves this side of you

And she loves that it's because of her

Emmett:

It wasn't particularly directed towards him

Some kid just made a general statement about the Cullens being weird

He heard it but didn't say anything

But then you stood up and angrily told them to mind their own business

They start arguing back, asking why you even care

It's getting heated, so Emmett steps in

He tells them that if they ever insult or argue with his partner again he'll rip their heads off of their bodies <3

He takes you home after that

It doesn't matter if the school day just started

He takes you home to let you cool down

He thinks it's so fun

I feel like he'd love a little firecracker S/O

And again, he doesn't stop you

Esme:

You were out running errands with her

Alice needed her dress picked up and she would be in school until the laundromat closed

So that meant Esme had to go get it

And you went with her obviously

While you two are waiting for the attendant to get the dress, you can hear the two employees talking in the back

"Hey do you have the dress pickup for Alice?"

"Hm... Oh I see it... Alice... Cullen? As in that weird ass family that moved in not too long ago?"

"Yeah, I got two of them up front. A pair of freaks, I tell ya."

You see red

You can tell by Esme's face she can hear them too

The guy comes back with the dress and puts on his best smile, acting as if he wasn't just insulting you and your girlfriend

Just as Esme's about to pay and give him a tip, you take the cash from her hand

You give him the exact amount for the dress and hold on to the remaining money

"This would have been your tip if you hadn't been a dick"

And then you grab Esme, Alice's dress, and storm out

She helps you calm down

In the future, she tries not to let you do that

They don't want to draw attention to themselves

And she's worried you might get yourself hurt one of these days

Carlisle:

He wasn't even there when this happened

You were at the school with the rest of the Cullen children when some jackass started insulting Carlisle

He had been injured a week ago and Carlisle gave him the medication and instructions to make it better, but he wasn't following them

So you went up and punched him in his bad shoulder obviously

He did punch you back, though

Carlisle swore his heart stopped when Alice and Japser ran into his clinic, you being supported by their arms

The guy had clocked you square in the face, a bruise was already forming on your eye and you're 90 percent sure you had a concussion

As you sat in his exam room, getting checked over, he gave you a lecture

He can take care of himself, and you don't need to put yourself in danger to protect him

But he does appreciate the gesture

After he's done patching you up, he gives you a kiss

Vampire! Bella:

She's not completely used to being considered one of the Cullens

So when a kid at school starts talking about that, she doesn't even register that he's talking about her

You do though

You stand up and start yelling at him, telling him to stop talking about your girlfriend like that

Lowkey she joins in on it

"You were talking about me? Mind repeating that?"

She loves that you want to stick up for her

Before she moved to Forks and met Edward there wasn't really anyone who would do that

But she insists that you don't have to if it makes you uncomfortable

She knows that you prefer to keep to yourself

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