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#her memory was going so every time i talked to her i was scared she wouldn't remember me
nguyenfinity · 10 months
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In 2018, I made Fight Kiddo as a way to vent frustration with some stuff, but I didn't know what to name her 'cause I didn't really wanna call her Fight Kiddo the entire time. I ended up naming her after my grandma, an incredibly kind and loving lady who would not put up with people's bs.
She passed away year ago today (or. a year and a day ago today because tumblr formatting decided to be difficult, sorry) and like. When I say my 2022 sucked I mean like I caught covid the day before she passed away so for me it was just. Yeah it sure was a summer. It was a rough time to say the least but kept the fight goin huh?
I wanted to bring Fight Kiddo back to honor her namesake in a way, and though I can't do much else now besides draw this for her, I do thank you so much for reading along <3
Con vẽ cái này cho bà ngoại, con nhớ ngoại nhiều mà con mong ngoại thích nhe.
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mariamlovesyou · 5 months
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tuned into Plestia's live with Rahma Zein's second account (she got shadowbanned). key moments:
plestia talked about her adjustment to living in australia. "it's 1:30am now and it's normal for me and many palestinians who live abroad to be awake hours into the morning. i am scared of sleeping. because of the time difference, i'm scared if i sleep i will wake up to bad news. in gaza i was scared of the sound of the bombs, here i am scared of the quiet."
contacting family and friends in gaza is near impossible. "sometimes i feel like a crazy person, calling 20 times in a row hoping that on the 21st time the call might go through."
on the destruction of entire communities and neighbourhoods: "i'm scared when i go back to gaza i won't recognise it anymore. someone sent me a picture of my neighbourhood, and i couldn't tell it was mine at first. all my favourite places, cafes where the aunties used to give me extra food and ask about my day, have been destroyed. i dread looking at my gallery or seeing snapchat memories because most of these people in the pictures are no longer alive."
rahma asked plestia to talk about one story that stuck with her. plestia said "i remember walking one time on the 'safe corridor', that's what they called it anyway, and i saw an older woman clutching onto a donkey cart where her son's body was, refusing to let go of it. i asked my colleague what the smell was, he said it's dead bodies under the rubble. it was the first time i familiarised myself with the smell. the son's body was decaying and the woman told me about cats and animals eating away at it. i've had children talk to me about birds eating away at their parents' decomposing bodies and not being able to chase them away."
"it seems so silly to go to hospitals for minor sicknesses now. i can't even think about how many palestinian children are going to be terrified of hospitals now. there was a girl who was taken to the hospital to get treatment for injuries by one of the bombs, and while she was in the bathroom another bomb landed nearby. the impact from that sent the ceiling crashing down on her.. she got another injury while getting treated for her first one."
"i hate how people talk about our resilience - as if it's okay that this is happening to us. we are only surviving because we have to, because we have no other choice."
rahma brought up the way family homes are set up in palestine and asked plestia to elaborate. "basically, there are floors. someone will live on the ground floor, and then their married son lives with his children on the floor above them, and then their successors above them and so on. so when family homes are targeted, they wipe out entire families. many families officially no longer exist."
"i used to wear my journalist helmet and vest all the time, felt naked without it, even slept with the vest on sometimes until i realised it only made me more of a target. they didn't give me any protection, only headaches and back pain."
"i am an optimistic person, i loved covering sweet sentimental things, like at my graduation asking parents of top graduates how they feel about their children graduating. that's what i love reporting on. i wanted to cover things like that when i came back to gaza, show the beautiful side of gaza that the media didn't really show, but i didn't have the chance." "do you think they'll give you right of return?" "i can only hope."
plestia mentioned how hard it was being a journalist with limited access to the internet, charging facilities, no mics, lack of equipment and how difficult it was uploading things. rahma asked her what's one story that wasn't really recorded or posted due to these constraints; plestia said "the evacuations. sometimes they informed us about them, sometimes they didn't. you have no idea how hard it was, everyone looking for their family members, making sure every one was there, taking to the streets in 5 minutes and not knowing which way to go. i remember i went to my friend's house for shelter for 30 minutes before the first evacuation was announced and we ran to another family's house, stayed there for 2 days before another evacuation was announced. me, my friend, and that family all evacuated together to another family's house. there were already so many people there seeking shelter, it wasn't just one family staying there. none of us knew how long we had in any place."
before october 7th, palestinians were used to limitations on electricity. plestia used to plan her day's tasks around when the electricity was working. "for example when the electricity was on from 12 to 4, i would say i will do my laundry and charge the phones during this time. life wasn't exactly 'normal', but all of us pray to have those days back in comparison to what we are experiencing now." plestia also said that cars are running on cooking oil now because there is no fuel.
on hygiene: "many pregnant women have to give birth without any pain medication or medical attention. once we ran out of medicine, that was it. women who had to get C-sections couldn't stay to recover or get followup treatments because someone else needed the bed. we have no water, no tissues, no pads, barely any bathrooms. in the shelter schools you have to wait an hour before even getting to use the bathroom because of how many people are there."
"something you don't hear about is how many people die because of sadness. there's so many ways to die in gaza, because of the bombardment, because of starvation, the lack of resources, but i also know many elderly people who died because their hearts couldn't take it anymore. i have been in gaza before and lived through 4 aggressions, but nothing compared to this one."
a recurring sentiment that was echoed in the video: "sometimes i thought to myself: who am i recording this for? because we've already shown everything, we've already talked about everything. everything has already been said, the proof is everywhere, nothing i talked about today is new." rahma said the first video posted about what's happening in palestine should've been enough.
she is 22 today. plestia's closing words: don't stop talking about us, don't stop boycotting, don't stop protesting, please don't get bored of fighting for palestine.
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livinginshambles · 6 months
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I thought you'd be different | James Potter
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Pairing: James Potter x Slytherin!Fem!Reader
Word Count: 4.6k
Summary: A cinderella story (maybe a little romeo and juliet while we're at it) but Hogwarts - Enemies-ish to lovers. You find an enchanted parchment through wich you anonymously talk to a stranger (James). When you meet him at the Yule ball, he is not who you expected, but you give him a chance. When you realise that was clearly a mistake, you flee cinderella style.
Probably part one of two again.
Notes: Not proofread, grammar mistakes. Discrimination issues, themes of bullying. Regulus is our friend. James is an idiot, but we knew that already. Sirius sucks.
Masterlist. Part two. Part three
--------------------------------
You could still remember the moment vividly, as if it was engraved in your memory. That moment when the sorting hat placed you in Slytherin instead of Gryffindor like your two older sisters had been sorted. You could still see the look of surprise, concern, horror and then eventually disgust, every time you close your eyes.
“Now we finally know your true colors,” is what your sister Alyssa had hissed coldly at you. You had pleadingly looked at your other sister, but Marla had supported her twin sister, disregarding the confused and scared look in your eleven-year-old eyes.
“Don’t talk to us, don’t look at us and don’t mention us at all,” she sneered down at you and for a moment you wondered how she hadn’t been the one to be sorted into Slytherin instead. But you had cast your eyes down and agreed.
But years passed and you had become the very stereotype of a Slytherin student, completely leaning into the cold, distant, quiet but calculating persona that your sisters had created for you. Might as well, you figured after your parent’s dismay at the revelation of your house.
You were making your way down the corridor, long strides as you passed your sisters while looking them straight in the eye. They grimaced at the sight of you, but without their entire group of classmates, they didn’t dare make any comments. A feeling of victory erupted inside of you, and you couldn’t help the small smirk that crept up your face.
“What poor soul suffered for you to look so satisfied?” You turned your head to look at the person who called out to you. James Potter and Sirius Black were both leaning against a statue in the open yard. “Did you get rid of Regulus or something?” Sirius taunted. “Finally had enough of him following you around, did you L/N?”
“Go die in a ditch, Sirius,” you retorted with an eye roll, but seemed unphased.
“Why so much hostility,” James unpleasantly remarked, and you halted in your step. “10 points from Gryffindor for loitering,” you pettily decided.
“If you have nothing to do, other than insulting students, I would love to recommend you to Professor McGonagall for detention. Heard she was still looking for the person who made all the pumpkins explode last week during Halloween, and you guys are terrible at getting rid of the evidence.” With a last glance up and down, you continued your way towards the room of requirement.
When you entered the sober room with a sigh, you noticed the small scrolled up piece of parchment in the middle of the room. You frowned. This was your space. The room didn’t open this space for anyone else, you made it specifically as a safe haven.
You cautiously approached the parchment and rolled it open to reveal nothing. It was completely blank. You shrugged. If the room left this here, it was meant for you, and so you took a seat and started drawing on it.
James sat in an empty room, his invisibility cloak hiding him from plain sight as he pulled the now folded paper from his back pocket. He inspected it closely, almost pressing the paper to his glasses in a curious manner. He had gone to the Room of Requirements earlier that day and found a piece of paper floating in the air.
James unfolded the paper, and his eyebrows flew up. Lines were appearing on the paper by itself, and a beautiful portrait of a weeping willow with a girl, crying on a bench under the tree appeared.
James fumbled to find his quill and ink. Then he started to write something on it, in a handwriting that he only ever used for written exams. Credits to Professor McGonagall, who had announced that she would not be grading anything she couldn’t read. And she had looked over her glasses at him while she said it.
It’s beautiful.
You dropped the parchment at the words that formed right under your drawing. You traced it with your fingers. Then you decided to write back.
Thank you, I’ve been dreaming about this for the past two days.
You frowned at yourself, unsure why you would disclose such information, but figured no one would be able to trace this back to you anyway.
James blinked at the response he got, mouth open in surprise. He wasn’t sure why he was so surprised. It must simply be a spell of some sort after all. He stared at the sad drawing and the sentence, and then he made up his mind, writing back.
It must be lonely for that girl to cry by herself under the weeping willow.
Your eyes followed the words that formed in a trance.
If she ever feels lonely again, she can always pour her heart out on this parchment. I’ll be the mighty guardian wizard that will make all her worries magically disappear.
A grateful smile made its way up your face and when you scribbled back a response, James couldn’t help but smile as well.
Maybe she will.
You doodled a wizard sitting on the bench next to the crying girl, a consoling hand stretched out.
That's how you became James’ best kept secret. He learned that you were indeed a student at Hogwarts, but that you felt lonely. That you enjoyed butterbeer, but never got to enjoy it on a Hogsmeade outing with friends, because you rarely had any. He learned that you felt inferior to your siblings and a disappointment to your parents. He noticed how you would draw a circle as the dot on your ‘i’ and learned, when he asked, that you did that because you had once seen Professor McGonagall do that when you were in your first year, and had practiced mimicking her handwriting, should it ever come in handy.
In return, he had told you that he felt pressured by the reputation that he had to maintain. He loved Quidditch and absolutely despised Ancient Runes, to which you had replied, “who doesn’t?”. He told you that he had illegally learned to become an Animagus, a stag, and that he wasn’t sure yet what the future would hold for him. He even revealed to you that he desperately wants to protect his friends and sometimes had nightmares, which usually resulted in a sneak around the castle at midnight. When you had asked him if he’d ever been caught, he responded with, “never”, and had explained to you that he had an invisibility cloak.
Two months passed and before you knew it, you were explaining Transfiguration through the enchanted parchment. You did conclude from this that your pen pal was most likely in a year or two higher than yourself but decided not to comment on it. James on the other hand, was under the assumption that you must be from his year, as you managed to help him study for his exams.
But now, it was almost 12 o’clock midnight, and James chewed his lip while he looked at the parchment. He hesitated for a moment. Then he decided to ask you the one question he had been yearning to know the answer to.
Who are you?
You looked at the paper sadly, and sighed.
You’d be disappointed.
I understand if you don’t want to reveal yourself. But know that I could never be disappointed by you, Willow.
James sighed when you didn’t answer anymore. He waved away the light that emitted from the tip of his wand and took his glasses off. He went to put the parchment under his pillow as usual, when he saw the scribbling movement that he’d gotten so accustomed to.
He scrambled to grab his wand to shed light on the paper but accidentally nudged them off the nightstand and onto the floor, where it rolled under his bed. James’ eyes flickered back to the paper in his hand, and he managed to catch the first letter of your name as it was written in capital letters.
But your cursive handwriting, the dark and lack of glasses made it impossible to read the rest of your name. When he finally reached his wand and put on his glasses, he heard the clock strike twelve and he cursed as he grasped the parchment tightly, hurried ‘lumos’ and saw that the parchment had reset itself to a blank page again, just as every night at 12 o’clock at midnight.
Wait, please! I didn’t catch it before it erased itself. Please write it again?
You let out a sigh in relief after you had internally bashed your head against a wall.
No, it was stupid of me. I’m glad you didn’t see it.
You leaned back into your armchair with a racing heart. You couldn’t believe you had done that.
“Regulus,” you acknowledged as you pulled the chair back to sit next to him in the library. “Y/N,” Regulus quietly responded without looking up from his book, and if you didn’t know any better, his straight face would indicate annoyance. Luckily, you did know better.
“You smile any brighter, the sorting hat will transfer you to Hufflepuff, you know,” you teased him.
His face distorted in a grimace and without missing a beat, he replied, “do kill me before such a thing occurs.” You shook your head and finally sat down. Then you pursed your lips in thought.
“You know how I’ve been working all summer to earn galleons?”
“No.”
“Well I did.”
“So it seems.”
“Anyway, I rented a small flat,” you blurted out. Regulus finally looked up at you, surprise almost evident on his face. Then again, you didn’t have the most amazing home situation either. You often opted to stay behind at Hogwarts for the holidays. It is how you two had befriended each other, especially ever since Sirius left him to his own devices at home. Parents, it was a trauma bonding thing.
“Congratulations,” he nodded, his voice trailed off as he tried to see how this would concern him.
“So I thought you might want to stay with me over the Christmas holidays? Your mother doesn’t hate me, so I thought it might be possible. Gives you a chance to get out once in a while.” You tentatively brought up the sensitive subject.
“And what makes you think living with you will be any more bearable than living in my own mansion?” Regulus snarkily remarked.
You squinted your eyes at him in a scowl. “A simple ‘no’ would suffice don’t you think?”
“Do I have to pay rent?”
“Depends on whether or not the answer impacts your decision.”
“So not then.”
You huffed.
“Fine, I suppose I could join you in your small flat.”
“Merlin, don’t go doing me any favors Reg, I wouldn’t want to owe you.”
Regulus shook his head in amusement.
Satisfied with your rather successful attempt to invite him over, you got up. The chair you sat on screeched loudly as it was being pushed back. You could feel the librarian’s furious eyes on your back and rolled your eyes at her as you made your way to the door. “Alright, alright, I’m leaving,” you waved your hand in the air and exited the room.
You made it approximately two steps when you spotted your sisters again. “Of course you would cause a disturbance in the library,” Marla spat at you. You raised your eyebrows but remained unimpressed.
“I see you’ve got your buddies to back you up now?” you commented and tilted your chin slightly upwards. Your eyes flickered to your other sister, their closest friends, and the marauders.
For a moment, you considered walking away, but there was just something about that twitching lip of your sister that had you irked.
You stepped forward, narrowing the gap between you and your sister. You leaned in slightly and then, “Boo.”
It took your other sister, Alyssa about one second to have her wand pulled out and pointed at your throat.
James watched the interaction with a small frown on his face. He didn’t really speak with the fellow Gryffindor twins, but their friends and Lily were friends, so the marauders had joined them on their way towards the courtyard.
His mind flickered to a conversation he had had with ‘Willow’ about her sisters, and he wondered if you felt the same sadness and inferiority as his pen pal. And with that in mind, he pulled Alyssa back by her robe with one harm, the other lowering her raised wand.
“Let’s not,” he shrugged, when she raised her brows in question at him.
“She clearly threatened my sister,” Alyssa defended.
You scoffed at that. “I said ‘boo’. That’s hardly a threat,” you rolled your eyes and glanced at James who tried to offer you something that resembled a smile.
Was he mocking you? “Fancy yourself a hero, don’t you, Potter.”
“Hey, I was just trying to help,” he raised his hands in defense.
“Cause you’re such a good soul,” you sarcastically remarked.
“Yeah, actually. At least better than you. That hostility is so uncalled for,” Sirius mumbled under his breath, and you shot him a glare. “Right, better than me. Let me ask the two-dozen tormented Slytherin students you’ve bullied this past year. Bet Snape will buy your self-proclaimed ‘kindness’.”
You were already walking away when Sirius opened his mouth to call something out to you, but James kicked his shins in attempt to shut him up. Your words resonated in his mind.
Maybe he was a twat.
Am I a twat?
What the bloody hell are you on about?
Someone called me a twat today. Now that wasn’t necessarily true, but the implications were there.
Did you deserve it?
Sort of.
Sort of?
I mean, I am only an asshole to people who are assholes themselves and deserve it. But I guess that makes me an asshole too.
You hesitated for a moment and decided to write your opinion on the matter.
Maybe you being an asshole to people makes them assholes. And then it becomes a vicious circle. Self-fulfilling prophecy and all that bogger.
You reckon?
Wouldn’t have written it down if I didn’t.
On a brighter note, do you have a date for the Yule ball after the exams?
If you’re asking me out, I already promised my friend that we’d go together.
Oh right. But would you save me a dance? Maybe at midnight under the main crystal chandelier?
James bit his lip again in suspense. The Yule ball is a masked ball anyways, if you don’t want to reveal yourself.
Midnight, main crystal chandelier. You decided to leave it at that. Besides. You could enchant the mask a little extra, so you’d be even more unrecognizable. You wondered who would be behind the kind words of the parchment.
It felt strange to you. Really looking forward to something to the point you could feel jitters in your stomach in anticipation. But it was having a certain effect on you that even the younger Black couldn’t help but miss.
Regulus squinted his eyes and moved his jaw in thought. When he had had enough, he pulled you aside.
“Out with it.”
You deflated. You knew that he knew what he was talking about, so you shrugged. “Someone asked me to save a dance next week,” you mumbled.
“And you want to?” Regulus’ tone shifted to an incredulous one.
“I found an enchanted parchment in the room of requirements and it’s connected. I’ve been using it to have conversations with a mystery person.”
It felt great to be able to share this with your friend and you leaned against the wall behind you. “So yeah.” You finished the confession with an awkward hand gesture.
Regulus took a moment to register what you said. And then, as if it was the most normal thing ever, he responded with, “I see. And you have no idea who?”
You let yourself slide down the wall and tiredly put your head on your propped up knees. “Probably a Gryffindor.”
Regulus started laughing. You snapped your head up and scowled at him, not that he was used to anything else from you.
“As long as it’s not a mudbl-“
You kicked his legs and made him lose his balance. You shot him a warning glance. “You know my opinion on that.”
Regulus sighed. You had once confided in him about your home situation, including that time when you had overheard your parents argue when you came home for the first time after having been sorted into Slytherin. Your father had addressed the matter as soon as you walked through the door.
“You’re no daughter of mine.” He had said with disapproval in his voice. It wasn’t meant as a figurative insult. It was a statement. Your father believed that you could simply not biologically be his daughter. The words had you avert your eyes to the floor in shame.
“My entire bloodline has been sorted into Gryffindor.” He had looked at your mother. “Your family does have Slytherins. She’s most likely the result of your affair with that muggle a decade ago. It is possible.” And just like that, he had practically disowned you.
“Okay,” Regulus relented. “We’ll see who it is next week.”
James was nervously looking around, standing partnerless in the middle of the dancefloor. He had long forgone the mask that he had chosen because it prevented him from using his glasses. He looked at the great clock just above the table with drinks and pulled a hand through his hair.
It was time, so where were you? Hopefully you hadn’t chickened out yet because he was absolutely dying to meet you.
There was just something about you. It sparked something in him that he hadn’t felt since Lily. He’d look forward to your messages all the time. Every morning, he practically jumped up in anticipation and excitement as he reached under his pillow to read your ‘good morning’ message for the day. A smile would pass his lips each time.
James was ripped from his thoughts when a hand was placed on his shoulder blade. It tapped twice. He stopped breathing for a moment before turning around. And then the breath was knocked out of both of you completely.
For two different reasons.
James stared in awe at you. You wore a white and silver dress, covered in diamonds. A delicate white mask covered the upper part of your face, and he stared intently at your eyes, but somehow, he still couldn’t pinpoint who you were.
He could see all of your features clearly, but as if he was in a dream, he somehow couldn’t piece everything together to identify you. A charm, he realized. He was disappointed but shook it off. If you felt insecure, then he wouldn’t push it.
James’ face broke out in a grin, and he stepped forward. He couldn’t help but reach out to your face. But you took a step back. His hand fell and he frowned at your reaction, suddenly scared. He wasn’t wearing a mask after all. Compared to you, he was completely vulnerable.
Before he could say anything, you cut him to it. “No,” you hoarsely managed. “This was a mistake.” You turned around and escaped from the center of the dancefloor. James chased you.
“Wait, please. I’m sorry!” He called out after you.
You slowed your pace when you reached the corner next to the staircase. Then you shook your head with a sight, and you pinched your nose. James could see your furrowed brows.
“You have nothing to be sorry about. But my intention wasn’t to dance with James Potter. It was a mistake. Sorry for wasting your time.”
James shook his head in his turn. “Don’t say that,” his eyes pleaded. “So you know who I am. Am I..” He hesitated. “Am I that bad? I don’t know if you’ve heard any rumors about me, or what made you have a bad impression of me, but I’m the one you’ve been talking to for the past months.” He looked at you desperately. “Give me a chance, please. I only ask for a dance.”
Your eyes flickered over his sad face. You knew James from all the pranks that he did, mostly committed towards your house. You knew him from the banters you had with him, and from crying students that you undid hexes for. You knew him from pushing him out of the way as he purposely blocked your path to throw insults at you.
But you also knew the boy from the enchanted paper. The one who listened to all your worries. Who offered advice and indulged into your hopes and dreams for the future. You knew the boy who confided in you all his deepest secrets and own insecurities. Who made your day and cheered you up with his jokes and positivity.
“I can give you a dance,” you caved, and you offered him your hand, which he scrambled to hold.
James was a fairly decent dance partner, you soon discovered as he guided you with grace. “So I suppose you dance often?”
“I just practiced a lot,” he sheepishly admitted. “I had to impress you somehow, you know. Someone like you had to be crazy out of my league after all.”
Your lips twitched. “I think you’ve got it all backwards, Potter.”
“You know you can call me James, right?”
“Well, James,” you enunciated his name. It felt weird on your tongue. You had only ever spoken his last name in contempt. “I’m not very liked by more than half the students of this castle.” You motioned towards your mask. “Hence the enchantment,” you added halfheartedly.
“You don’t have to tell me who you are,” James immediately assured you, and you did relax at his words. “I’m just really happy that you’re real.”
You let out a laugh. “Why would I not be real?”
“I don’t know,” James whined. “Maybe I was just talking to really sentient paper or something?”
His answer only made you laugh more. James’ grin only spread wider.
“Whoever you are, I wouldn’t judge you,” James added quietly. You watched him silently as you swayed around the room.
“That’d be a first,” you joked sadly, remembering your own family.
“What can I say, I’m just different,” James cheekily winked and then twirled you around.
“We’ll see about that, James. You have the rest of the night to convince me.”
The dance ended and you curtsied to each other, out of breath. “But you’ll have to excuse me while I go find a bench because my feet are killing me. These heels are no joke,” you groaned in pain and sort of started to limp your way back.
James quickly came to support you and held your waist as he escorted you back to the side of the room. When you discovered that there were not in fact any benches, you sat down on the first few steps of the staircase. He raised his eyebrows when you kicked off your heels and saw that the entire slipper was made of glass.
“I transfigured those shoes myself, you know,” you proudly stated. James looked at it in disbelief. “This can carry a human weight?”
“Yeah, it took a lot of different enchantments and attempts,” you admitted.
James’ disbelief changed to awe. He took a seat next to you and you two started chatting about random things. You looked at James’ profile as he talked about Quidditch and felt soft towards him. Maybe he really wasn’t so bad after all.
The two of you were deep into a conversation when you were interrupted .
“Who is this, Prongs?” Sirius curiously stepped forward and shook your hand. You couldn’t help but grimace at him.
You politely nodded and explained the situation, but even though you engaged into a civil, nonchalant conversation, you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable at the presence of James’ friends.
“Anyways,” Sirius leans in towards James. “Did you see Snape over there?” He nodded his head towards Snape, and you squinted your eyes at the boy in front of you.
“You’re not thinking of doing anything to him, are you,” you sharply asked. Both James and Sirius were taken aback by your new tone.
“Nothing harmful,” Sirius laughed, but it faded when you simply raised your eyebrows at him. Sirius looked towards James for help. James hesitated. He had been reluctant to indulge Sirius’ ideas ever since his conversation with you about being a twat. But Sirius was his friend.
“We’re just having a bit of fun,” James tried to explain. “We’re just joking around, besides, he’s in Slytherin, so definitely a blood supremacist.” Your face fell at his words.
You watched his features contort in disgust and suddenly you were eleven again, and all you could see was your sisters disgusted face.
By the time you had snapped out of it, Sirius was already making his way towards Snape. James had gotten up and his head flickered between you and his friend.
You got up as well.
“I really thought you’d be different, James.” You scoffed to yourself. “You really had me convinced there for a moment. But I understand that you’re really just a bully after all, blinded by prejudice. You really are a twat.”
James’ heart dropped at hearing you say those words. He felt ashamed and shook his head pleadingly as he searched for words. But the thing is, you couldn’t care less, because you were hurt too. So you turned around and fled up the stairs as fast as you could, just in case he would come after you.
“Hey Prongs, you coming or not?” Sirius called out. James looked back at Sirius as he contemplated his next move. He mouthed ‘no’, and then tried to run after you. But by the time he reached the hallway that you had disappeared to, you were nowhere in sight.
In denial, James ran towards the moving staircases and looked up, in hopes to find you there.
Had he looked down, maybe he would have caught the last shimmer of reflection of the diamonds on your dress.
James refused to give up, however and he started to knock on the paintings, hoping that they could tell him where you went. He just had to apologize.
A symphony of protests and yelling echoed within the hall. “Quiet you!” “Have you no respect for the sleeping?” “I will complain to Filch about this, young man!” “Leave us alone!”
When the voices resided, most portraits were empty, their contents having escaped elsewhere.
Defeated, James groaned and hit his head with his fists. “You stupid git!” he yelled out in frustration at himself. James slouched down to sit on the stairs. Then he reached for the parchment and a pen in the inner pocket of his jacket and started scrambling something down.
“Please answer,” he whispered. He almost had to laugh at how pathetic he must look.
You sat on your bed after having made your way to the Slytherin dorms.
I’m sorry. You’re right, I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know why I said that. I’m stupid and I ruined everything. Please let me make it up to you. I enjoy being with you, I don’t want you to think of me like this.
 Like I said before, this was clearly a mistake.
James read your words over and over again and he buried his face in his hands in shame. He stayed there for a long while and by the time he returned to the room, the party was over, and people had started returning to bed. On the left side of the staircase were your enchanted glass slippers precisely where you’d kicked the off and left them.
Preview of part two
Part two
Taglist:
@bath1lda @lilianelena39 @quackitysdrugdealer @princessprongs @clumsyassbitch @thecraziestcrayon @themoonofeternity @ttkttt @rentaldarling @handybrownpurse @elsie-bells
@charlie-weasley-is-underrated @dreamingofmarauders @moonyslibrary98 @wildernessflora @hollandweather @queerqueenlynn @locklyebrainrot @thisrandombitch @grac3aph3lion @earfquak3 @venomsvl @middle-of-the-earth @shrekscrustybudassy @bettytaylorversion @littlepoisonmushroom @faumpje @iloveutwice @katelebate @moonysupremacy01 @marina468 @fangirl-kimora @bellesowl @badasswlthafatass @sjprongs @armydrcamers @its-a-ittle-bit-cold @ireallywannasleep127 @sayukoi @jsjcue @cashtons-wife @idllyastuff @severegiantjudgefriend @ivy-34 @moonyunebi @caspianobsessed @kquil @moonys-luvr @mindflay3r @nokkoongie
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renecdote · 1 month
Text
rebirth
Bi Buck cured my writers block, please have this short little episode coda for 7x04. [Read on AO3]
It’s after one a.m. when the light, bubbly excitement in his stomach sours, fear creeping in. Buck’s next breath sticks in his chest, his heart races, his fingers start tingling, and it’s so much like what kissing Tommy did to him, but for all the wrong reasons this time. His phone screen is suddenly too bright in the darkness, his search history a towering mess of questions, and Reddit threads, and quizzes he clicked into then out of before he could finish taking them.
The problem, he thinks, is that it felt so right. Tommy tilted his chin up and pressed their lips together and it felt like—himself, for the first time in… forever, maybe. Buck doesn’t know what he’s meant to do with that. Go out on Saturday night, maybe (hopefully) kiss Tommy again (and again and again and again), but then… But then?
He wants to call Eddie because he always wants to call Eddie. He wants to blurt out all the things he kept under his tongue when he apologised earlier. He wants to hear Eddie say his name, soft and warm and knowing, because if anyone can make him feel seen and heard and at home in his own skin, it’s Eddie. He wants so hard it’s almost painful.
But it’s the middle of the night, he can’t call Eddie.
He can’t call Maddie either. She would answer, he knows, and she’d have just the right words for the spiralling anxiety that’s sucking him in, but he’s not going to scare her with the phone ringing in the middle of the night. There have been too many calls like that that have only been bad news.
He won’t worry Hen or Bobby with a call like that either.
And as much as Buck wants to confide in them, wants to crack his chest open and show his family what has been inside the whole time, there’s another part of him that doesn’t want to share. Not yet. He feels like the newborn calves he saw at the ranch in Montana, young and fragile and unsteady as he tries to find his feet. The world suddenly feels bigger. Brighter. And it���s exciting, it’s freeing, but he can’t help feeling daunted, like he might get lost if he’s not careful.
“Bisexual,” he says aloud, just to hear himself say it, to taste the way it feels on his tongue not just as a word but as an identity. It feels like an exhalation, trembling at the edges but not just with fear, or excitement, but with relief. He thinks of that first breath of air when his head came above water in the tsunami, he thinks of being struck by lightning, he thinks of stepping into Station 118 for the first time, he thinks of catching the Jeep keys Maddie tossed him in the dark of a Hershey street all those years ago. Buck knows what it is like to be reborn, but he has never had a kiss make him feel like this before.
Did the first time you kissed a girl feel like this? he wants to ask Hen. Does it feel like this every time?
Is this the magic you were talking about when you first met Shannon? he wants to ask Eddie.
I figured it out, he wants to tell Bobby. I figured out what being at ease with myself feels like.
He has a shift in six and a half hours, but sleep feels as impossible as it did when he first climbed into bed. Buck lifts a hand to trace his lips in his dark, reliving the memory of Tommy there. He imagines Tommy everywhere else too, trailing his hand down his body, fitting Tommy into all the places a few dozen women have touched before. He feels like a teenager, giddy at just the thought of sex—of everything—and he exhales a laugh in the dark.
Buck opens his phone again and sends a text to the one person he knows is on shift and might already be awake: when you said you’d pick me up on Saturday, you meant in the chopper right?
Tommy replies instantly: those things are a bitch to park
And a second later: maybe on the third date
There it is again: breath stuttering, heart racing, fingers tingling. Buck wonders if this is what it feels like to get behind the controls and fly. He grins at his phone. He can’t wait to find out.
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buckys-metal-arm · 29 days
Text
Comfort
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Bucky x GN!Reader
Description: three instances of Bucky associating someone stroking his hair with comfort.
Warnings: fluff and angst, mentions of illness, period-accurate toxic masculinity, mentions of nightmares, no y/n used, only pronoun used is "you"
A/N: this is based on something I wrote for my self indulgent self-insert OC Juniper, where Bucky tells them the story of the first two memories and then decided I wanted to also do an x Reader with a similar idea.
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1930
One time, when Bucky was young, he was hit with an awful bout of illness. He felt like there was a hundred pound weight on his chest, and he couldn’t stop coughing. Steve kept trying to sneak in to go see his friend, but would be shooed away before he could actually see his friend. Rebecca, Bucky’s little sister, would slip notes from her and Steve under his door as often as she could, trying to remind him he wasn’t alone. One night, when his sickness got real bad, his mother came in to sit up with him. Since it was the Depression, she would be up pretty much every night working on sewing alterations until her fingers cramped and bled. But tonight, she was staying with her Baby Boy. She rubs Vick’s on his chest in hopes of soothing the cough, and sits by his bedside. When Bucky’s coughing gets so bad that he can’t fall asleep, she sits on the mattress next to him, running their fingers through his hair until he falls asleep. She saw how much it soothed him, and from then on whenever he was sick she would stay with him, running her fingers through her son’s hair to calm him. 
1942
Bucky was an adult now, dressed in a soldier’s uniform and trying to pretend he was proud of that. He’d just gotten home from the Stark Expo, and found that his mother and sister had stayed up to wait for him. Rebecca hugs her brother goodbye before heading to bed, but Bucky and Winnefred stay up late talking. During the conversation everything hits him at once. He’d spent the entire day forcing a smile and pretending to be brave, being strong in front of his date, of Steve, of anyone who saw him and saw a young man ready to take on the world and fight for his country. 
When in reality?
 He’s been terrified ever since he learned he was drafted. 
He broke down in front of his mother, telling her that he’s not ready, that he’s scared, and that he hates that he’s scared. That he’s a coward. But his mother shakes her head, and hugs her son tight. She doesn’t tell him to “man up” or that he needs to “get ahold of himself”, just held him and assured him that it’s okay, that he’s not a coward, that he’s not weak for being afraid. She took him back to his bedroom, getting him settled under the covers and sitting at his bedside, stroking his hair the same way she did when he was young. 
“Rest now, James,” she whispered, brushing his hair out of his eyes, “you don’t have to be strong tonight…” 
Now
Bucky woke up screaming, drenched in sweat. He tried to take deep breaths, to calm himself down, but the nightmares that had forced him awake still ravaged his subconscious. 
“Bucky?” He whipped around to see you, eyes tired but still filled with concern, “are you alright, Baby?” 
“Yeah,” he gasped out, running a hand through his hair, “yeah, yeah, I'm…I-I’m…” 
“Oh,” you cooed, wrapping your arms around him and laying your head on his back, “oh Sweetheart…” 
You hugged him close, and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. 
“Can you feel my breath?” You asked, running your fingers along his stomach. Bucky nodded, “good, Buck. Can you follow my breathing?” 
He matched your breaths as best he can, and you held him until he calmed down. Once his breathing evened out, you pressed another kiss to the crook of his neck and smiled softly. 
“What do you need to feel better, Sweet Boy?” You asked, “what do you need to go back to sleep?” 
Bucky chewed his lip for a moment, trying to decide. His mind drifted to his youth, to his mother carding her fingers through his hair and the feeling of serenity it brought him. 
“M-my hair,” he murmured. You looked confused, “will you stroke my hair for a bit?” 
He didn't give you a chance to respond. 
“Sorry,” Bucky's blue eyes wouldn't meet theirs, “that sounds stupid, but my Ma used to do it when I was younger but–” 
“Shhhh,” you slid in front of him, “it's not stupid. Of course I'll stroke your hair.” 
His blue eyes met yours, relief flooding his gaze. 
“Lay back down, Sweetheart,” he settled himself on top of you, laying his head on your chest and listening to your heartbeat. You cradled his head against your body, running your fingers through his dark hair. His eyes were already starting to feel heavy, and he nuzzled into your neck, a little hum escaping him.
“Get some rest, Bucky,” you pressed a kiss to the top of his head as he started to give in to sleep, “I love you.” 
The same feeling of serenity overtook him, and Bucky drifted off in his partner's arms.
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sykostyles · 17 days
Text
melodies | 1.0
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summary: he's the most powerful & ruthless mafia boss in the city, and she's just a music store owner. but once he hears her singing voice, he wants nothing more than to hear it for the rest of his life..and she's not so sure about that.. he'll do anything to change that. wc: 3.1k
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warnings: none this time around!
a/n: hi babies! I disappeared again but I swear I'm here! I won't lie to you all, I lost momentum for a bit but my dear love @gurugirl gave me the idea of repurposing my jjk fics for Harry! so this is my first attempt at that. I hope you all enjoy!
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Harry had been renovating his new estate for about a year now. Deciding on only the best of the best, but when it came to musical items that he wanted placed variously around his house; he wanted something more lived in. More story holding. Something that looks like it had been used and loved by many. That’s where he found you and your little shop “Encore Records” in the heart of downtown. 
He wanted a grand piano, but he didn't just want any grand piano. He wanted the grand piano you had on display in your store. The one your grandfather left to you from his touring days. Your grandfather was a traveling artist, carting this piano around to every city, every country. It’d been more places than you. It sat dead center in your shop, surrounded by records, plants and various instruments customers could test out before placing orders. The only thing unavailable to order was the piano. It served as a centerpiece that you played fairly often, especially while customers perused the store and Ellie ran the cash register.  
Harry had been stopping in probably two or three times a week to try talking you into selling him the piano for his home; not taking no for an answer. Sometimes Ellie would have to fend him off while you were working in the back. Ellie would then always dash to the back to tell you what happened before another customer would walk in.
“That big mafia guy was in here again!” she says, tapping you on the shoulder.
“Huh?” you ask, pulling one of your earbuds out., slightly startled from the touch.
“You know, the tall darkhaired one who’s hot as fuck, and defintely thinks the same about you,” Ellie says, motioning to your frame, giggling at your disgusted look. “The one with the huge hands,” she winked at you.
“Ellie, he wants the piano, not me.”
“Girl, he wants both.” she chuckles, “You’re allowed to be proud of yourself,” and she's leaving you alone. Proud of yourself for what? For some Yakuza man coming into your store every day, possibly scaring off possible customers? Not everyone wants to come in here when there’s a guy with a gun strapped to his chest, followed by three other men who are also armed. 
He’d offered you millions of dollars in return for the piano, but no amount of money could replace the memories you have sitting with your grandfather at this piano every night while he taught you how to play. Or the nights you’d gotten to be with him on tour and see him on stage sitting at the damn thing every night. There was no way you were going to give it up. But there was no way he was going to give up either.
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It was a rainy Tuesday the next time Harry decided to come in. Another attempt at your piano, but today something in him changed.
Walking in, Harry notices you’d just opened so there weren't any customers yet. You still haven't fixed the doorbell either, another thing he’ll have to chastise you for today. He hears you before he sees you, singing along with the radio playing Forever Young by Rod Stewart through the speakers of your store, as you stand behind the counter on a step ladder rearranging the wall of weekly favorites. 
“And may you grow to be proud
Dignified and true..”
Harry can’t believe his ears; the angelic timbre of your voice and how it just rolls right off of your tongue so effortlessly.
“And do unto others
As you'd have done to you..”
He could listen to you all day long. In fact, he just might. He takes a seat on the piano bench, and just listens.
“Be courageous and be brave
And in my heart you'll always stay
Forever young, forever young
Forever young, forever young”
Once the song is over, you turn on the stool to grab something behind you, and you're startled by Harry’s presence. 
“Jesus, Styles. Didn’t anyone teach you to knock?” you nearly fall off of the ladder,
“On a business’ door? No.” he smirks at you. “Didn’t anyone tell you to fix your doorbell? Pretty sure I did last week. And the week before that,” Harry counts on his fingers, scolding you, “I’ll just have someone come do it for you.” He snaps his fingers, pointing at the man standing on his right. A tall, broad man with blonde hair. He smiles as he pulls his phone from inside his jacket.
“No, no Styles. Boundaries, remember?” you watch as he strides over to you, offering you his hand to help you off the ladder, but you ignore his gesture; placing your hands on the back of the ladder, stepping down, and turning to face him.
“Birdie, I’m not taking no for an answer. Your safety is at risk, and that’s not okay.” He retorts, the blonde haired man already returning from making the phone call. He looks to Harry, giving him a singular nod, to which Harry nods back. “Repair man will be here soon.”
“Why do you even care? If I died, you could probably get a good deal on the piano.” your eyes involuntarily roll,  “And I told you Birdie is reserved for my friends and those fortunate enough to see me naked, and you are neither of those things. Nor are you buying my piano.” Your hands are planted firmly on your hips as the words leave you.
Birdie was a nickname your grandfather gave you when you were young. Always running about singing like a bird. He’d scoop you up and you’d squeal, making him laugh with you. You were just a little birdie that wanted to sing her heart out. It’s what your mother wanted before she passed away. This store was your way of honoring your mother and your grandfather. They both instilled your love of music into you. 
Mom loved singing karaoke anywhere she could; praying she’d get recognized by someone who saw potential in her. And oh boy, did she. But she had you and you were her main priority and nobody could deal with that when she’d mentioned she had a daughter to the talent agents. Her heart was broken but watching you grow up was what she really enjoyed. She just made sure you had the same love for music as she did.
“Ouch, you don’t see me as a friend yet? I practically come to see you every day.” he trails his fingertips up your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Plus, if you were to die, I wouldn't be able to ask you to sing to me every day.”
“You weren’t supposed to hear that. Nobody was,” you mutter. Nobody had heard you sing since before your grandfather passed away. He always begged you to go on tour with him and sing some of his songs with him but you always doubted your ability.
“Well, maybe if your doorbell was working, you could have stopped before I did.” The cocky man stands before you, hands in his pockets as he retracts them.
“Do you like hearing the sound of your own voice? Wouldn’t you rather listen to music?”
“Mm, sometimes. But the only music I want to hear is your voice telling me “I love you” for the rest of my life.”
“Fat chance, Mr. Mafia man. Now, if you’re not here for anything other than to bother me about my doorbell and my piano, please leave.” your hands make haste to wipe the counter off before you lean back on the ladder. “What about a date?” you nearly choke on your own oxygen at his question.
“I’m sorry?” you giggle your response, unable to believe what he’d just said. Maybe Ellie was right.
“You don’t have to apologize,” he chuckles, “I’ll repeat it for you. I’d like to take you out on a date, Birdie.”
“Sty–”
“Harry. I’ve told you to call me Harry.” You don't miss the way his men behind him offer each other uneasy glances. He must not let anyone refer to him by his first name, and you’re not about to start either.
“Styles, that’s not going to happen.”
“You wound me some more,” he dramatically clutches his chest, “I’ll change your mind one day.. Just watch,” he says as he makes his way to the door, his men leaving before he does. “Have a good day, Birdie. See you tomorrow.”
You’re staring into space as he leaves, thinking of the extravagant date he’d probably take you on. He’d probably be able to give you the Pretty Woman moment you’ve always dreamed of. The heels, the long red dress, the lipstick to perfectly match and the updo hairstyle to tie it all together. Harry would probably make the best Edward Lewis in your life. But you’d never admit that out loud.
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An unknown amount of time passes before you’re startled again; Ellie’s voice snaps you out of it. “Helloooo, Earth to Y/N!” she snaps her fingers in front of your face.
“Shit, sorry. I was stuck, haha,” you rub your eyes before looking at her face and offering her a smile. She hands you the coffee she had hid under her arm before tucking her belongings under the counter. You went back up the step ladder after grabbing the dust rag you’d gone looking for before you were so graciously interrupted by Harry. “Good morning, by the way.”
“Why did Mafia man just tell me you agreed to go on a date with him?”
“Huh?” you quickly turn to face her on the ladder, the legs wobbling under your jerking movements.
“He walked by me on my way up the sidewalk saying he finally got you to agree to a date and that I owed him the hundred bucks we bet on.”
“HUH?” nearly losing your footing for the second time today, you make your way down the ladder.
“Why are you acting like you don't know what I'm talking about?” she eyes you quizzically.
“Because I don’t know what you’re talking about! What bet?” your hands find your hips again.
“Why are you more interested in my wrong doings? He’s out here lying about you!” Ellie waves her hands back and forth, feigning innocence. 
“And my best friend is betting against me!”
“Semantics! C’mon, y’know I'm not actually going to pay him. He’s got more money than any one person knows what to do with.”
“That’s not the point, Ellie. You bet against me! How could you?” you toss the dust rag at her, feigning annoyance.
“Because I see the way you look at him when he’s here!” she tosses it back at you. 
“Ellie, he’s literally a yakuza. I can’t entangle myself in that, whether I like him or not,” you’d love to just let him spend a night with you but, a night with him is a night with five other people that go everywhere with him.
“Birdie, you have to live a little. Enjoy the thrill. Plus, he’d probably keep you so safe.”
“While simultaneously putting me in the most danger I've ever been in.
“Okay, but the one with the double buns on top of his head is hot and I want that one so i need you to take one for the team and go on a date with this man.”
“Is that your part of some deal you made?” you jokingly accuse her.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, just go on a date with him.”
“You go on a date with him,” you huff and you leave her up front. To which it only lasts about fifteen minutes before she’s coming into the back room telling you some random guy is there fixing the doorbell and isn't taking ‘no’ for an answer.. 
You just roll your eyes.
Ellie just wants you to be happy, no matter the cost. And you think maybe she’s not weighing the cost as much as you are. Sure, you’d be under protection at all times but the fact that the protection needs to be there at all times means you’re in just as much danger. Which does not totally sit right with you, but he is very persistent. And fairly beautiful. But you have to think with your brain and not your vagina for once.
A few hours later, you’re rearranging the Pop section of records when the phone rings. Ellie picks up with her normal “Encore Records, this is Ellie,” a few seconds pass before you hear her speak again. “Hm, let me ask real fast she’s right here. Hey, Birdie, do you have a piano lesson available tonight at 6?” 
“Humm, I think so, check in my calendar. Take it if I do, please!” you go back to putting the Ariana Grande records in order by year. You hear Ellie laugh with the customer on the phone before she hangs up, thanking them for their business. “So do I have a piano lesson at 6 now?”
“Yeah, said his son's name was Niall and that he had been hounding him to learn piano from the lady at the big CD store.”
“His son sounds adorable! I’m looking forward to teaching him.” you smile at the thought.
“You just like the ego boost,” Ellie side eyes you with a laugh.
“You should try shutting up,” you chuckle, going back to arranging your floor inventory; moving to the Metal section.
Six rolls around and you’re pulling the sheet music you have for teaching beginners around on the stand. Ellie makes her way up front to gather her things, reaching under the counter and turning the lights down.
A huff leaves you, “Hey, I still have that piano lesson tonight.”
“I know,” she gives you a look, “Have the best time, Birdie, and she’s out the door.” Uh, okay?
Right after Ellie leaves, the doorbell sounds again and you turn to be met with Harry.
“Styles, I have a piano less–,” you pause, “There is no piano lesson for a boy named Nial is there?”
“He’s Niall,” Harry motions behind him to the man who called about your doorbell earlier. “And I’m the one who’s here for the lesson.”
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Seated at the bench next to him, you can't believe you’re actually going through with this. But if he hadn’t put a deposit down over the phone, you wouldn't have. Clearly Harry and Ellie had cooked this scheme up somehow. You almost appreciate the effort.
“You don’t seem to need a lesson,” you remark, watching him mimic your motions without even trying.
“Would you be upset with me if I said I didn't?” He starts playing Forever Young on the piano, making your eyes widen.
“Not upset, confused,” your eyes are glued to his hands, fingers flowing effortlessly over the keys.
“Just wanted an excuse to talk to you for longer than a few minutes.” Harry’s hands keep up the melody.
“You’re not going to let this up are you?” your eyes roll for the millionth time because of this man. He has a way of making your skin crawl in a good way. But again that’s something you’d never admit;
“After I heard that singing voice? Never,” he smiles over at you, continuing to play the song on the keys. “Will you show it to me again? Please, Birdie?”
“If I say yes will you stop asking to buy my grandfather's piano?” fat chance, but you’ll try anyway.
“Scouts honor,” he winks. Huh? That easy? “Or is he just that in love with you?” You can hear Ellie say in your head. Shut up. 
As you begin singing along with his playing, Harry’s smile grows in size. His hands and arms move effortlessly across the piano, fully impressing you as you watch in awe. The words flow out of you like they did earlier today.
Once you finish, Harry looks at you like you just told him he’d won the lottery. Not that he needed to win the lottery. “You really have such an amazing voice,” he breathes out, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. 
“I’d call it a good harmonizing voice,” you chuckle. “I sound better with the radio.”
“I’m sorry, was I the only one with ears for the last three minutes? Mitch? Niall?” he makes you chuckle next to him as he turns to the men behind him
“I heard it Sir,” they both said in unison.
“And how did she sound?”
“Lovely, sir.” Niall says, looking over to you with a friendly smile.
“I have to agree with Niall,” Mitch says, without a smile. He seems to be more of a hardass than the other one. 
“Ah, so you are the delusional one here,” Harry turns his attention back to you. 
“Shut up. Lesson’s over,” you laugh.
“Aw, but I was just getting started. How about a date then? We can take the rest of this time somewhere else.”
“You would love that wouldn’t you?” leaves you in the form of a laugh.
“Certainly. Cmon, Y/N. I know the best place down the road. Whadya say?”
“I say you’re dreaming,” you stand from the piano bench. Walking over to the light switch, you turn the lights all the way up, making everyone wince at the sight. “And now it's time to wake up, Styles.”
“I’ll make it so worth your while. Please, just once chance, That’s all I’m asking for,” he stands and makes his way over to you. “Please, Birdie.” he runs his thumb over your cheek, you lean into the touch before you realize what you’re doing.
“If I say yes and I have a horrible time, can I reserve the right to ask you to leave me alone permanently?”
“Of course. I’d swear on it to never show my face in here again. But I promise we won’t have to worry about that. So tonight then?”
“Not tonight, how about tomorrow? After I close for the night?’
“It’s a date,” He smiles. “I’ll pick you up,”
“You mean you’ll all pick me up?” you motion to the guys behind him.
“Nah,” he shakes his head. “They’ll be around, but not with us. I want you to be comfortable.”
“Maybe you should have started with leaving them outside then,” you roll your eyes, “No offense, boys,”
“None taken,” they say in unison again. Harry snaps his fingers and the men leave.
“You didn’t have to do that,” a chuckle leaves you again. You head for the door but Harry softly grabs your arm.
“Leave em, I’m heading out anyways, he slides his grip down your arm until he’s holding your hand, offering a kiss to your knuckles. “Until tomorrow, dear Birdie. He kisses your hand once again, turning to leave.
“B-bye, Styles.”
“Harry,”
“If you impress me, then maybe.”
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pixiesfz · 4 months
Note
would you write for alexia putellas?
okay I always find it hard to write for Alexia but I finally thought of a good plot
inspired by Olivia Rodrigo's unaired song
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prison for life a.p
plot: you've always been independent in life but when Alexia walks in you cant help but want her to protect you.
warning: idk
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You sat in front of an interviewer in front of the goal posts as he asked questions about your new signing to Barcelona FC.
"So what caused the change from United to here?" he asked and you smiled "Change of scenery I think, there is nothing wrong with the club and I cherish every memory I have there" The interviewer nodded his head "So you don't feel for the comments saying you are moving just to get wins under your belt?" he asked slowly, almost as if he was scared to ask the question.
Your eyes slightly squinted at him but you leaned back as you remembered it is only his job "I'm a big girl" you smirked "I'm not going to listen to comments left on my Instagram because they're not the ones controlling my movements, I am" you said with a nod.
The interviewer smiled, impressed with your answer as the camera stopped rolling "You're very good with the media" he complimented you as he packed up his set "thanks" you smiled before returning to practice.
As you reached the other side of the pitch Keira turned to you "any personalized questions?" she asked and you shrugged "talked a little bit about the rumors of why I moved but that's all" Keira nodded "I will say in this team you get asked more personal questions so I'm here if you need" she suggested and you nodded "I'll be fine" you reassured her "yeah?" she asked "I'm good at protecting myself".
You had moved to Barcelona for a change of scenery but to also spend more time with your girlfriend Alexia who lived and breathed the club.
She was injured at the moment so she wasn't at a lot of the trainings and would appear at some games, she was very protective but you knew that... to an extent.
Your whole life you had protected yourself from the prying eyes of others and didn't rely on anyone else so whenever someone offered to help you, you always declined.
They didn't need to, you had yourself sorted.
But as your early weeks turned into months at Barcelona more interviewers and fans started asking more questions and players on the pitch were starting to recognize some of your go to traits which ended in more tackles, risky tackles.
You had never played in the same team as Alexia yet but as she was getting better and sat on the bench you saw her eyes darken whenever a tackle on you was played.
When the game ended you walked over to the bench where she sat and took the water bottle she had out for you "you know if looks could kill Ellie Carpenter would be six feet under" you joked as the girl had slide tackled you at least five times during the game.
"I don't like it when they try and hurt you" she shrugged and you smiled, leaning over to place her hair behind her ear "it's apart of the game Ale, it's her job and she is good at it." you told the blonde and she rolled her eyes "they hurt you, I hurt them" she shrugged before walking off into the change rooms.
You stayed in your place as you watched her go.
"She's so protective of you" Mapi scoffed as she watched your interaction with Ingred "you know it wouldn't hurt if you were that protective over me" Ingred teased "Alexia would go to prison for life if anyone laid a finger on her"
You furrowed your eyebrows at the couple as they walked away from you still babbling about how Mapi could be more protective of Ingred.
You looked around the crowd before walking around to say hello and sign t-shirts for the crowd.
You always did the lap, some girls stopped every now and then because some of the fans could be too much but you were always good, protecting yourself when something would go too far.
But when a man tried to convince you to take off your playing shirt and give it to him you thought about Mapi's words.
You wish you had Alexia here to protect you.
But you had never invited her too, always making excuses for people or sticking up for yourself.
You knew you could protect yourself but you wouldn't mind Alexia saving you.
You bid the man farewell as he groaned at your non-willingness to take off the top.
When you went home that night you took another hot shower as Alexia cooked dinner you couldn't stop smiling over the fact that Alexia cared so much about you.
When you got out of the shower and changed, you went to the kitchen and wrapped your arms around Alexia's toned stomach.
"comfortable?" she asked and you nodded "very" Alexia laughed "almost done, go put something on the TV" she suggested and you nodded, kissing her back which was covered by a singlet and walking to the couch and picking a television show.
You sat in the corner as you waited for Alexia, your mind wondering into situations where Alexia could save you and how her arms could hold you oh her arms-
"penny for your thoughts?" Alexia said as she put your plate down in front of you "not thinking much" you shrugged and Alexia rolled her eyes "I know when something is on your mind amor" she said and you ducked your head into your arms out of embarrassment.
"It's silly"
"I doubt it is" Alexia moved closer to you and picked up your head with her fingers so you would face her "are you okay?"
"I'm fine I just-" you stopped yourself and Alexia nodded for you to go along.
"Well my whole life I've always stood up for myself and solved my all problems" you started and Alexia nodded "I know, it's one of the things I love about you"
You blushed as she kissed your cheek "And today when I saw your eyes on the pitch and then what you said after the game I realized that I can also allow you to protect me" you said softly
"And I just really like the fact that I have you and that you care about me so much to even suggest hurting someone who hurt me" you laughed at the end.
"I would do more than just hurt them" Alexia quipped and you smirked "would you say you would end up going to prison?" you asked, thinking of Mapi's comment from earlier.
"For life".
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woodlandwrites · 2 months
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i. mind over matter
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aphrodite!reader x luke castellan
pre-tlt, characters 18+, mdni, def going to be a pt.2
warnings: cursing, whole lotta impertinence!
2.7k read - unedited
You have been plagued by flocks of doves and Luke Castellan. So Aphrodite decides to meddle a little a lot in your love life. Who needs memories anyway? Unfortunately, the only person you find comfort in - is the very person you hate.
A/N: first fic in a loooong time - stick with me here. there will be more parts and maybeee some spice? anyways hope you enjoy!
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You’d like to think that Aphrodite loved the game of making you miserable. In retrospect, you hated your mother. She was a hard act to follow. 
Don’t jump to conclusions - you loved your cabin. Your brothers and sisters were wonderful - not vain like most campers would say. No, that was not an issue. The problem started with one slender, curly haired, crooked smile boy - Luke Castellan. He was the golden boy of Camp Half-Blood and the bane of your existence. 
Luke was an astonishingly aggravating self-centered egotistical bigot. 
“Why do you hate him so much,” Silena asked one day out of the blue. You both sat in the stands watching Luke teach his swordsmanship class. You pondered her question for a while.
“Because. He confuses me - and aggravates me constantly. I have never met anyone so full of themselves in my entire life. He is Narcissus reborn again. It also does not help that he is a complete jerk,” you nodded as you ate another fresh strawberry. Silena pondered on your words.
“Are you sure this has nothing to do with mom and the whole..argument,” she said in a cautionary tone.
Silena was the only one who knew about you and Aphrodite’s - complicated past. To be fair - she didn’t know the entire truth. The prophecy, the impertinence, all the bullshit. However, she did know that your shoulders seemed to tense every time Aphrodite’s name was mentioned. 
“I mean every time I have talked to him at camp counselor meetings he seems like an alright guy.
Silena - forever the optimist. Sometimes when you looked at her through the corner of your eye she resembled your mother. She had this soft tone and locks of hair that seemed to always catch the wind just right. Yeah, no wonder Luke was nice to her. Selina was extremely beautiful - Beckendorf struck gold. 
“Yeah, I can see right through the façade-” you were cut off by a dove landing next to you. He started pecking at your strawberries mindlessly. Silena stifled a small giggle. 
“It is funny when it isn’t happening to you. The bastards have been following me around for days,” you said annoyed.
You tried scaring the bird away - only for more to return. After a couple minutes an estimated 20 doves flocked around you mimicking every move. 
“Go away!” you screamed - only for the feathered friends to cock their heads in curiosity. By now, the entire arena seemed to convert their attention to you. 
“Hey! I heard if they shit on your head it’ll bring good luck,” Luke echoed watching amused.
He leaned against his sword in a cocky manner. What an asshole - you hated when he did that. The other campers seemed to laugh along. 
“Up yours, Castellan,” you yelled with a face the color of cherries. 
The doves had now increased their army to a solid 50 - all looking to you for a further instruction. Doves had followed you around your entire life - a gift your mother had bestowed to you. The unfortunate part was that they were pretty much the most non obedient monsters on the entire planet. You never had truly understood why they would appear - most of the time it was a random occurrence. Of course - Luke was always there to revel in your misfortune. You still had not forgotten when the doves caused a complete riot last month at dinner - leaving quite a mess for you to clean up. The younger campers were still traumatized. 
That was the thing about doves - they were just like your mother. At first they are nice to look at, almost sweet. That is until they turn into vicious assailants from Tartarus (Silena says you overreact). They also annoy you - another common attribute with your mother. 
“For Gods sake just leave!,” you yelled again, stomping off, bidding Silena goodbye.
You did not want to continue being entertainment for the rest of the campers. The doves seemed to take the hint - maintaining their place in the stands. You were sure there were some week old snacks stuffed between the seats the rotted things could ravish on. Luke chuckled before turning his attention back to his students. 
The sun was setting and soon it would be dinner - but you still sat in bed thinking about what Silena had mentioned early about your mom. Maybe it was your nerves - but you knew a visit soon would be unavoidable. The doves only confirmed your suspicion. It was rare for gods to visit Camp Half-Blood, at least publically. The closest thing the camp had to godliness was Mr. D - what a joke. However, you knew your mother and her constant desire to meddle with your life. 
Dinner went without a hunch - except for the Stoll twins starting a food fight at the Hermes table. You loved quiet nights like these where the summer breeze feels like a warm hug. Silena nudged you - reading her expression you knew she was inquiring about the events from earlier. A shrug sufficed. You were so caught up in laughing with your siblings you failed to notice the yelling from the other side of the pavilion. 
“One of the Ares girls was flirting with Luke after you left today - Charlie and I could not help but laugh. It was so awkward,” Silena mentioned.
 There were a couple of murmured sounds and gawking from your siblings - which was the usual. If there was one thing they loved it was - well - love. However this subject rubbed you the wrong way - maybe it was just Luke’s name being mentioned.
It felt like a suffocating gut punch and it was most likely your mothers doing. If there was anything she loved more it was demigod love - the trials and tribulations - and of course the unfortunate ends. It quite literally made you sick. But why did Luke have to be roped in it and moreover - why did you care? You smiled and nodded - trying to pay attention and not let the thoughts take over. 
“Get these goddamn things off of me!,” a familiar voice yelled in annoyance.
So wrapped up in thought - you failed to care - assuming it was a practical Hephaestus joke with an Ares kid. Selina quickly nudged you pointing towards the Hermes table - for quite an interesting scene. Luke being attacked by a merciless army of doves. 
“Hey Castellan, let them shit on your head - heard it was good luck!,” the words reflected from just a few hours prior.
You couldn’t help but giggle - it was nice not being the receiver of dove aggravated assault (as Beckendorf had termed it). It was also nice not to be the joke for once - everyone laughing at someone else for a change was different. 
“Call the damn things off,” he struggled - yelling your name in the process.
“Why do you automatically assume I am the one who set them off? They just do what they want!” you retorted.
 Silena looked at you - questioning your motives. He struggled even more as the doves thrashed him around - seemling gaining confidence in their blows. They seemed - deadly - more than before. Silena muttered your name.
“You have to try,” Silena persuaded. Reluctantly you obeyed - knowing she was being more serious than she was putting on. 
“Stop!” you yelled sternly to the winged creatures.
Like usual - they did not obey. Unfortunately, they keep going - tearing Luke’s shirt in the process. He held himself quite well against dove assassins  - a fact you did not want to admit to yourself. 
“παύω!” You spoke - pleading that it would end.
It was all your mothers fault. She wanted you to be miserable. She wanted to ruin your night, humiliate you - and to hurt Luke. You weren’t sure why that last part bothered you so much.
 “Φεύγω!” you screamed once more in an earthshaking tone.
The doves dissipated automatically. Like literally - poof - into dust. Again - the entire camp had its eyes on you - what else was new?
“What is wrong with you,” Luke questioned - still astonished at the sheer power of your voice - that very voice that made doves disintegrate. You slowly looked up at his disheveled appearance - he looked worse.
Beautiful. 
You wish that voice in your head would go suck a dick!
“Shows over, enjoy your dessert,” you said bitterly to the crowd taking a bow.
Silena yelled your name but you had already darted towards the woods. You could hear the muttering of the crowd questioning the evening entertainment. You could not seem to care. 
You took a seat in the sand on the beach overlooking the shore. The moonlight seemed to make the water sparkle like diamonds. You felt almost calm here - no one to distract you from your thoughts. Why did his words strike you like a knife? He might as well plant backbiter into your back, it would hurt less. It all led to the proper question - why? Why would the doves attack him anyway? They had never done anything quite so ruthless before - nevertheless to another sole person. 
Then again - it was always about Luke - ever since you got to the infernal camp. He was probably celebrated for his brave victory in the battle of the doves - hoisted up by other campers. You suppose a feast in his honor was in order. 
“You think such unhappy thoughts,” an angelic voice sang from the sea. 
Your attention turned towards a bundle of sea foam. The foam began to sparkle and mangle to take the shape of a woman the closer it got to shore. Soon after your mother - Aphrodite stood before you - in all her glory.
“I thought seafoam was just whale jizz,” you spoke casually. You chucked at yourself that was a good one!
Of - fucking - course. Your mother was behind the entire dove fiasco - you called it. You should start placing bets at this point. 
“Most would be labeled impertinent with that attitude - especially with a God.” 
“I am impertinent.” You shrugged, pulling your knees to your chest. Maybe if you really ignored her she would disappear. 
“I will not disappear yet - we have much to discuss.” 
“Get out of my head.” 
“I heard what occurred tonight at dinner. Shame, doves are very gentle creatures.”
A dove magically appeared in her hands, letting out a soft coo. You cringed. If you saw another dove tonight - you might just roast it and eat it. 
“So that was you?” You asked venomously.
“Well thanks mom! Now the entire camp thinks I tried to kill the golden boy with a league of killer doves. They all think I am absolutely crazy.”
“I did nothing, my child.” You gawked at her - she paused to collect her thoughts.
“However, you might want to look within yourself before you spit accusations that are not true. I merely gave you a gift - how you use it is at your own expense.” She finished. 
“But I don’t control those horrid things - they just show up and do whatever. Why would I even attack Luke with a bunch of wimpy doves?”
That was your mother, having the audacity to say you caused the incident. That it was all your fault. 
“Love, perhaps?” Her eyes seemed to glitter at the thought. 
“No.” Ugh, not this again, you thought.
“Doves are a mere - personification of one’s inner love. That is why I gave you the gift - so your innermost feelings can never be bottled. That does horrid things to one’s complexion.” 
“Well thanks for the shitty gift, mother. Next time maybe a pair of socks will do the trick.” 
“Why do you insist on denying who you are? Denying what you are destined to become? Denying yourself the love of the century?”
“Why love someone if they eventually will die.” It was true. Your father had died when you were young - leaving you an orphan. Your demigod friends you made throughout the years died horrible unspeakable deaths.
“Isn’t that all the more fun?” 
“You’re enjoying this aren’t you? You just love to see me suffer?”
“You’re being rash.” She fired back.
“Rash? Where have you been?” You scoffed at your godly mother.
“Child, I do not write destiny - I only enforce it. I know you more than you would like to admit, sweet dove. And you - are in love with the child of Hermes.”
 Apollo could’ve shot you through the chest - it would have felt better. 
“Mother, you have it mixed up - I do not have any feelings for Luke. You’re just making things up because you are bored and need some excitement. Please go back to Olympus and meddle with someone else’s life,” you stated. You staggered to your feet dusting the sand off. 
Before you could walk away a bolt of pure energy hit you in your spine. You flew to your feet hitting the ground with a hard thud. In a blur your mother was standing proud above your feet - surrounded in a pink aura. 
“Luke Castellan, he will keep you safe - and you will keep him steady.” 
You might have thought to curse at her - but you couldn’t speak - let alone move. She had disappeared from vision leaving only a dove in her wake. The pain - was excruciating - like being electrocuted a million times. Your ears rang terrible tunes as you tried to level yourself - only to fall back down. The world was spinning at an unmeasurable pace. You could hear shrill screaming - or was it yours? You weren’t even sure who you were? Only images of dark curls, broad shoulders, and crooked smiles flashed through your vision. 
A quake of footsteps running towards the shore were felt as you thrashed in the sand. Voices - yelling a name - whose name? You couldn’t recall. All you knew was darkness. 
“Y/N?!” a feminine voice called. You could feel her hands shake your shoulder violently - it felt like knives.
You heard screams - this time knowing it was your shrill cry. You pushed her away with force. You backed away, crawling backwards in desperation. 
Once your vision returned you focused to see a swarm of kids all in orange shirts - staring at you in shock. The girl who touched you - you could only assume was kneeling in the sand in front of you. She seemed to be pleading.
“Stay away, please,” you pleaded with tears streaming from your eyes. You weren’t sure what had happened but you knew you had never felt pain so deeply. 
“Y/N, please you were screaming. We only want to make sure you are okay. We can go to the infirmary and figure it out,” the girl reached out only for you to retreat more. You hyperventilate on your own words. 
“What’s going on?” another voice asked with urgency from beyond the crowd.
Every child seemed to turn their attention to focus on the male figure. Pushing his way through the crowd - he became shocked at the scene before him.
However, you felt as if all the oxygen had left your body - leaving you limp. You felt as if a hand had grabbed your heart and ripped it in two. He was the one - the one you had seen in your visions. 
“Y/N?” he questioned - half concerned, half annoyed. His chocolate eyes seemed to lock ever so easily with yours. He was indeed the most beautiful man you had ever seen - like a carving of marble. Your soul ached. Without a thought - on instinct alone - you ran. He was engulfed in a desperate hug - his shoulder muffled your pitiful cries. 
“Please, you’re the only one who can help.” You could feel the eyes on the two of you - the gasps were hard to ignore. He went stiff in his posture - not sure how to react. Silence fell over the entire shore, only the crashing of waves in the background. 
“Y/N what is going on? Is this some sort of prank?” he asked in disbelief. 
He had never seen you like this - so scared. Some small part of him wanted to scoop you up, hold you tight, and tell you everything would be okay. He wanted to tell you how he would fix all your problems - just so he would never see you cry again. Although these feelings were so suppressed he restrained.
Gods you were beautiful. 
“I- I don’t know who Y/N is. I don’t know anyone. I don’t know me.” 
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randomshyperson · 2 months
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I'll Crawl Home To Her - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots
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Summary: A rewrite of the fight scene in WandaVision, with a less aggressive but equally painful discussion. 
Warnings: canon-typical Westview angst, talking about magical submission and free will, established relationship, some grief mentions, rough kissing just because I can, love confessions/reaffirmations | Words: 1.644k
A/N-> I'm just rewriting loose scenes from WandaVison, none of which are really going to end up in anything bigger. But I hope it's a decent read. 
General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad
-&-
“It’s not often that you get a dog and bury them the same day.”
To your line, Wanda could have chosen to mumble in agreement. She could have said she was sorry, or she could have chosen to remain silent.
Instead, she chooses sarcasm, as if she had a good idea of how ridiculous everything was starting to get around that town.
“Well, life moves pretty fast out in the suburbs.”
You end up sighing, able to feel the anger slowly building up in you. Wanda continues to put toys away, and you decide to wipe your hands on the nearest dishcloth before turning to your wife.
"I spoke to Norm this morning." You start with a serious look on your face, and Wanda, oh your beautiful, stubborn wife, makes a mocking expression. You don't understand why she's acting this way. "He told me things that really frightened me, Wanda."
It was her turn to take a deep breath, the confidence in her expression wavering for a second. There was only one balcony between the two of you, but somehow the emotional distance was immeasurably greater.
Wanda looks you in the eye. "What's that supposed to mean, darling?"
“You tell me.”  You hit back without hesitation. But what you get from Wanda is a tired sigh, falsely innocent.
"I didn't know it was charades night again." She continues to mock. 
You can't remember if Wanda was ever cruel, but it's a fact that you can't remember anything that happened before Westview.
"I got scared because he was scared, Wanda!" You insist, approaching the counter to lean on one hand, while the other gestures your despair. "It was like a different person, a real, suppressed personality crying out to be released. It was accidental, of course, to discover this. But I'm not an idiot, Wanda. I can see what you're doing. The things that are changing around us every time something gets out of your control. And I don't understand why, and you won't talk to me, and I'm so scared!"
The tears in your eyes match hers. "Stop." She pleads earnestly, but you shake your head.
"You don't want this." You say.
Despite the emotion in her eyes, and the thick tears, Wanda gives a short, ironic laugh, her head tilting slightly. "Don't I?"
"If you did, I wouldn't know. I wouldn't be able to see, to question.” You sigh.”You’ve always been so... extraordinary." Her expression suddenly flinches at the compliment. "Your abilities, your power, I can't tell what happened before this place, but I know about now. There's not a trace of doubt in my mind about you, about how magnificently powerful I've always perceived you to be. Not even about how much I love and trust you." Wanda swallows dryly at your words, but you give a sad sigh. "Then I don't understand why you keep letting me see the flaws. If you're going to lie to me, leave me in the dark. Because I think I'm losing my mind little by little. I can't ignore the suffering of those people, and I can't ignore the uncertainty that grows in my chest every second. I can't remember anything, Wanda. I see those pictures on our walls, those fabricated memories, and nothing reaches me. I can't even recall if I had any kind of family before this place."
Wanda comes around the counter with a certain desperation, her hands reaching for your face. "You have a family. Me and the boys, why can't that be enough?"
Your hands reach for hers. "It's not that, sweetheart. Our family is perfect. This life is the closest to heaven I could get. But I can't be at peace with it at the cost of other people's suffering. I can't ignore their pain."
"I'll help you think of something else." She responds with a nod, pulling your face in to kiss you firmly.
Kissing Wanda has always been intoxicating, a sensation that's easy to get lost in. But fresh in your mind is your coworker, terrified and begging you to get away from this place. Get away from your wife.
You pull away, breaking the kiss and ignoring the way your whole body protests. Wanda is equally out of breath, but the gleam in her eyes hides a deep irritation.
"Wanda, I-
"Save it." She interrupts, turning her back on you. You catch a glimpse of a new form of anger and hurt in her eyes at being rejected. You sigh impatiently, following her instantly. 
"You're not going to run away from this conversation, Wanda, I need to know what's going on in this place!" You practically beg, yelling at her back because Wanda just keeps walking towards the stairs. You huff angrily and teleport immediately into her path. She jumps slightly in fright, grimacing with impatience and taking two steps backward, away from the steps as you insist; "Please. Talk to me."
"There's nothing to say if you don't believe me when I tell you there's nothing wrong." But you shake your head at the words, one hand pulling your hair back. Wanda chuckles humorlessly.  "See, you already have an opinion on the subject. On me. I'm already the villain in your story, darling, so why don't you keep digging behind my back and end this whole thing?"
She mentions going upstairs again, but you stand in her way, one hand pulling her face towards yours. The kiss is more intense than the one in the kitchen, heated enough for Wanda to gasp into your mouth.
She's ready to reciprocate with the same eagerness when you break it, the hand on her cheek caressing her skin.
"Because I love you, Wanda Maximoff." You whisper against her lips, and it's not just the words, but the devotion in your gaze that makes Wanda's legs wobble. You offer her a small smile, an air of lost battle in your expression. "There is no part of me that would plan and act against you. Even here, with the truth scratching at the walls, where I could if I wanted to access the suffering of these people, I wouldn't turn against you. I can only beg for a little mercy, my love. Take the pain away from me, the doubt. I will be loyal and complicit in any of your desires and decisions."
Wanda sobs, hugging you before you can say anything. You can't remember anything that came before, but she can, as clearly as if she were there. And Wanda loved every trace of your old self as much as she loves this Westview version, willing to do anything she asks. It's not so different from the person she lost, with the most striking exception that makes it clear in that moment, that nothing could ever replace the real you. 
You would have taken Wanda out of that fantasy. For better or worse, even if she hated you afterward, even if she never forgave you, you wouldn't let her cross lines through grief, you wouldn't let her lose herself again. After all, that's what you swore to do after witnessing first-hand all the guilt she carried for Ultron's madness and the accident in Lagos. Your true version would never let her drown in sorrow and hurt people again.
But the Westview version, so sweet and devoted, would stroke her back and say the same thing you always used to say, even if now you can't remember it.
"I'm sorry if I made you cry, princess, I never meant to. Look at me so I can bring your smile back."
Wanda holds on a little tighter, tears staining your blouse. The vast majority of the times she had heard this phrase, it had been at much less dramatic moments. While she had a passion for sitcoms and things that made her laugh, you liked more emotional movies that could make you cry. And every time you had a movie session, you would tell her that, easily achieving your goal of putting a smile on your girlfriend's face. But there were also times when the situations were dramatic - a poorly planned workout where Wanda ended up hurting you and tears of guilt escaped her and you tried to make her feel better by saying that same phrase. Or when you had a fight and it got a bit out of hand, and you started your apologies that way.
Or when Thanos took you from her, and Wanda had to hear it twice because of a time stone.
She doesn't want to hear it for a third occasion. 
You're ready to say something, maybe apologize, when Wanda breaks the hug. But she holds your cheeks and presses her mouth to yours. Slowly, allowing you to taste even the saltiness of her tears. There's a shaky sigh escaping from between your lips as she breaks away again, but your affected gaze changes to a curious one as red irises stare back at you.
"I'll make it better." She whispers, nodding slightly. You swallow dry, closing your eyes and resting your forehead against hers.
The only thing you whisper is exactly what makes her hesitate. "I trust you, Wanda."
She ignores the internal conflict and lifts one of her hands to stroke the back of your neck. It must be easy, especially within Hex, to change your mind. To make you no longer question.
You repeat that you love her, and Wanda brings trembling fingers to your forehead. 
She suddenly becomes very aware that consciously, she could never do that to you. She would rather you found out everything and hated her than take away your free will. To turn you into another puppet.
She sighs shakily, ready to say she'll put an end to this whole place when the doorbell rings.
Nothing could prepare her for seeing her twin brother again, but that's another story. Besides, not that Wanda has any idea, far away from there, a fallen Avenger is being stitched back together while calling her name in their sleep.
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natsglorifiedsimp · 4 months
Text
Something Changed 2
A/N: You guys asked for it.
Taglist: @queen2234 @pipsipey17 @casquinhaa @natashajumpinoff @natsxwife @dark-hunter16 @i-lovescarlettjohansson @mrsrushman @tropicals-things @alianovnasposts @nova-kyle @jusnough @splzq @yellowthingsstuff
Part 1
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Tasha's POV
"Hey, Maria!" Natasha called.
Natasha noticed the subtle eye rolling of Maria. She squinted her eyes. It was unusual for Maria to act like that especially cause she's been helping her get to date you.
"What do you want Natasha?" she grumbled.
Natasha was taken aback by this. "Jeez, I'm just asking about Y/n." another eye-roll was given to Natasha. "Have you seen her? I haven't seen her on campus."
"Glad you noticed, Natasha" she sarcastically said. Maria feigned a thinking posture and started to glare at Natasha, "Let's see hmm" Maria said with diction.
"How about the fact that you've been ignoring her since you and Wanda dated and now she's gone off to Los Angeles leaving us behind because of you!" Maria gritted her teeth trying to contain her anger because you were in the hallway where students were passing around thinking Natasha and Maria were doing a secret drug deal.
"W-what?" Natasha stuttered. "I-I haven't ignored her."
"Save me the drama, Natasha. All you think about is yourself." Maria said.
Natasha was so confused. She didn't know what she did to you. She hurriedly texted you, hoping you'd give her some explanation but all was left delivered. That's not usually you. You always reply as soon as you see the message pop.
Natasha back reads you guys' conversation. Seeing if there were any clues on when are you going to LA or something that would hint at anything.
But all she saw was how she neglected you. She could see in every message how much you needed her. She missed your rants, your rambles, and everything that you guys would do when you hang out.
She broke her promise.
Y/n's POV
LA was different. The school was fine so far. No one dumped milk on your hair yet. No one made fun of you yet. And you were hoping it would stay that way.
The new environment was hard for you. It is hard to start a conversation with people when you don't know who they are. Natasha always does the talking. But somehow in this world, you are the one who needs to adjust.
Even if the people were friendly, throwing a smile at you or saying hi, somehow you still felt timid and awkward. You were scared to make friends.
Cause you know they will leave again.
Natasha did. What could any of these peer's differences be?
You cried every night knowing you had no one cared. That even if you consider them your best friends they will never think of you the same way. You were an option. You are a pawn to someone's real agenda.
You cried because you knew how much you cherished friendships. You knew to yourself that you would care and love people and go out of your way just to be there for them.
But somehow with you, it was always the opposite.
You are left alone, and when you thought someone cared...
She never really was.
Natasha's POV
She tried calling you a million times, even called your parents just to have a chance to talk to you. To apologize. But you were too far gone.
She may have found the love of her life but she left you. She left you feeling like she didn't care. She disregarded your feelings and put herself first. She took advantage of you.
Natasha regretted everything that she did. Everything that she broke. She knew how much you value friendships and she also knew how to break it.
There were no more Y/n. The laughter you shared is now a glimpse of memories that she wished would last forever. Love may have come her way but she didn't have to run you over just to find it.
You were her person.
But i guess...
Loving involves losing right?
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hotchfiles · 2 months
Text
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ the mood i'm in ❞ ─ an adhd chronicles blurb
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pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!adhd!reader. summary: sometimes rearranging a whole entire closet is a biological need. content warnings: fluff, adhd antics (i'm diagnosed don't try to come for me) word count: 600+. a/n: this was requested by @ficmeoutofthisworld and i felt the need to make a blurb!verse of it, so expect more fluff for these three 🩵 & the idea of jack calling you honey came from honey is for love by @angellsell
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“daddy, honey has that weird look again.” aaron can’t help but smile at his little boy, putting the files he was working on down on his desk, telling him to come closer with his hands. jack had gotten into the habit of calling you honey very early on in your relationship, that being one of the pet names aaron used the most when talking to you. it was too endearing to correct him, even after you moved in. you both just let the boy be, knowing that he would call you by name once he got older.
you didn’t mind him not calling you mom or any of its variants, even if the relationship you shared now was much alike mother and child, jack didn’t remember a lot of haley by himself, he was too little, but aaron always did his best to keep her memory alive in him, so if for his young mind it was easier to call you a pet name, you would take it every single time with a smile. and so would aaron. 
“what look, buddy?” he asks even though he’s sure he knows the answer, having been through that a few times over the last two years. 
“she’s staring at my stuff and sitting on the floor.” bingo. every once in a while you would get obsessed with something, it made sense after you were diagnosed with adhd and he learnt how to accommodate you properly, but for a while it was just a big clash of his organized and controlling nature and your chaotic mind. 
“let’s see what she needs, okay?” jack nods, leading the way with his dad closely behind. they find you exactly as his boy explained to him, sitting with your legs crossed on the floor, staring at his wardrobe so attentively it might scare the unknown eye. 
“darling? what’s going on?” he asks without entering the room, not wanting to invade your space before you called him in, instead he decided to lean on the door frame, observing you with his kind eyes.
“i want to rearrange all of jack’s clothes but we need more hangers for that and i don’t want to go to the store just to buy hangers, but i also can’t get up to go to the kitchen and check what else we need.” you answered quickly, finishing your ramble with a huff, dropping your shoulders and looking at your fiancé with a pout that made him get closer to you, offering his hands so you could have some support while getting up, you lazily do it, being embraced by him as soon as your feet touch the ground. 
“go watch something with jack, okay?” his tone is always soft, as if your conversations, even the silliest and mundane ones, were secrets for you two to keep. he knew you too well, so he prevented the whine he knew would come–you wanted to get this done, you needed to rearrange jack’s clothes or the itch in your brain wouldn’t leave–and he did so by holding both of your cheeks with his hands, making you look at him. “i’ll make the shopping list and then you both can go to target while i get some reports done.” you nod happily, his hands moving with your head. 
telling you to watch something with jack could seem like a mindless choice of words, but it wasn’t, aaron knew you were feeling stuck and how bad that made you feel, you needed a dopamine kick before you could do something, and no better way for that than colorful silly shows with your favorite boy.
by the time he’s done with the shopping list, you had already started another important project: napping on the couch with jack. so he leaves it attached with a magnet on the fridge, gives you both soft forehead kisses and goes back to work, not minding the fact he did it quickly for no reason, happy you were resting and that it was done for when you decided to shop.
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a-simple-imagine · 3 months
Text
Perfectly Pathetic Pt.2
synopsis: you try to fix things with cady while maintaining your friendship with the plastics
pairing: regina george x fem!reader, elements of cady heron x fem!reader
words: 6.6k (6666 to be exact)
A/N - it’s here at long last besties!! get it while it’s hot because i might delete later idk how i feel about it
WARNINGS - swearing, toxic relationships and general toxicity, d-slur, and bullying
PREV //
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come Sunday, you wake up with a throbbing head and zero energy left in your body but memories sit crystal clear. you remember Regina trying to come onto you. her scaring Cady away. Gretchen rubbing your back as you listen to her whine about Jason for the millionth time. weird night. you check your phone but don't bother to reply to anyone except Karen who wouldn't stop sending you explicit details about some reality show she was binging. but alas the weekend was over and you're forced to brave the embarrassment of going back to school after a party. happens every time. people do dumb shit and are forced to face it on Monday.
the first person you come across is none other than the red-headed new girl herself. you have got to imagine she is mad at you after what happened; the lies Regina told. it was not your fault but you should probably try and make peace.
"Hey! New girl," yelled down the hallway, you walk a little faster in order to catch up. you watch her glance around a little confused as you approach.
"Oh," her expression seems to neutralise as she realises it's you. "hi."
"did you have a good Sunday?"
"it was alright," the fact she was speaking to you was a good sign. "I spent it with my mom."
"cute," you flash a smile. Cady was clutching her books pretty tightly. "I thought we should maybe talk about Saturday."
"We don't have to to."
"but I want to," you insist. "please?"
"Regina already told me,"
"Regina is a liar," you blurt out. hopefully, that wouldn't get back to her. "I don't know what she said exactly but it's not true," she looks at you with curious eyes. "I wasn't stringing you along or anything,"
"Sure,"
"I like you, Cady. you're... different," you express. "I wanna be your friend. and I was really happy when you showed up at the party,"
"Really?"
"mhmm," you hum, nodding to prove your point. "cross my heart." you mime the action of drawing a cross across your chest. you're not sure they're gonna forgive you but the bell for homeroom would ring at any moment so time was running out.
"Okay," replied after a moment. a small smile that's quick to fade.
"do you want to finish working on our assignment later?" you ask.
"Sure," they shrug. "meet you out front?"
you're not entirely convinced you're forgiven but you'll take what you can get. you're about to respond when your eyes spot Gretchen amongst the crowd. you lock eyes for a second before she bolts in the opposite direction. with a heavy sigh, you charge after her.
"Gretchen." yelled down the hallway causing a few heads to turn. people naturally darted out of your way but you almost smashed into a few people. "Gretchen," is she getting quicker? "will you just stop?" the answer was apparently no because she just kept going until you manage to grab her arm forcing her to stop. "what the fuck?"
"oh hey, I didn't see you back there." she lies, offering a less-than-genuine smile.
"I was literally yelling your name?" your brow furrowed. you could almost see the gears turning in her head trying to come up with some kind of excuse.
"Sorry, I'm tired- mustn't have heard you." was that the best she could do? you just roll your eyes.
"Can you not tell Regina I was talking to Cady."
"Why?" she asks despite already knowing the answer.
"Please, Gretchen? it's really not a big deal, okay so let's just keep it between us."
"I said you should stay away from her and you ignored me."
"I know and you were probably right but," you shrug. "it's too late and besides, I have to do a presentation with her, that's why we were talking. you can even ask Karen."
"I won't tell anyone." that was a lie. She won't tell anyone except Regina obviously. always trying to be in her good graces.
"if you promise not to tell, I'll... tell Jason something bad about Taylor? like she has crabs or something?"
her eyes light up at the prospect. "really?"
you nod. Taylor had never liked you so you weren't exactly on the best of terms and if making up some rumour about her gets Gretchen off your back then great. "but you can't tell Regina, deal?"
"deal," Gretchen smiles brightly. thank fuck for that. you start walking together now. "so what happened at the party?"
"don't you already know?" you tease. "thought that pretty little head of yours knew everything."
"I'm working on it."
you shrug. she'd probably find out eventually. "nothing really. Regina told Cady some stuff about me."
"that you don't like her and are only pretending to be her friend?"
"so you did already know,"
"I don't know what you see in Cady."
"I don't know." she just wasn't like anyone else. a new avenue to discover. most of these people you've known for years. the bell rings out and suddenly you remember you were supposed to drop off a take-home quiz by homeroom today. you had actually done it but forgot it was in your locker. "oh shit,"
"What?"
"I just forgot to hand something in i'll see you later," with a quick wave goodbye, you rush off back the way you've come. it wasn't like you were bad in school or anything. just sometimes you'd forget to bring in homework. one... or four late quizzes later and suddenly Ms. Norbury is giving you extra work to make up for it. it's not like you have a life or anything. As you grab the paper from your locker, Karen Shetty emerges.
"Morning," sang dazzlingly as she shoved your locker door closed.
"good morning," you smile softly, a glance over her outfit. "you're particularly chirpy today and look great,"
a tiny theatrical gasp, she puts a playful hand over her chest. "thank you,"
"where did you get the cardigan?"
"thrifted it,"
"oooh, I love that," you say. "also it goes so well with that super cute bracelet you're wearing,"
"Aw thanks, my friend made it."
"that's so cute, she must be a really great friend," you tease.
"she is," Karen nods. "where are you headed?"
"I gotta drop this off to Ms.Norbury or I'll fail math,"
"Can I come?"
it wasn't exactly an exciting trip so you don't know why she would want to? plus you were late for homeroom now. "I guess?"
"did you have fun at the party?" Karen inquiries as you begin towards Ms Norbury's homeroom class.
"it was alright,"
"I heard you got into a fight with Regina,"
"hardly a fight," you sigh. it was gonna be a very long day. "it's fine. you know how she can be,"
"was it over Cady?"
"Why does everyone suddenly care about Cady?" you stress. "it really doesn't matter."
a shrug. "I heard from Gretchen that Connor is grounded now because he didn't tell his parents about the party and they found out because somebody was sick in like a vase or something,"
"ew," you giggle, scrunching up your nose in disgust. "like they just found cold vomit in a vase?"
"mhmm," Karen nods eagerly. you make a fake gagging action as you knock on the open door. why is it always so awkward to walk into an already full classroom? ms. Norbury invited you further inside and you can't help but look at the people staring at you.
"so you do know how to hand things in on time," you resist the urge to roll your eyes. "great. now if you can just do that all the time."
"I make no promises," you answer, placing your homework down on her desk. when your eyes meet Cady's she waves a little. you flash a smile.
"come see me after school and I'll let you know how you did and if I need anything else from you,"
"Okay," you sigh. wasn't your first extra credit quiz. nor your last probably. you leave the classroom quickly, grabbing Karen's hand. she'd been waiting at the door.
"lots of people in there,"
"yeah because we're supposed to be in homeroom," you advise her.
"I didn't hear the bell,"
oh, Karen. "just come on."
it was a rather lifeless day thank god. you were grateful for the peace. and ms. Norbury hadn't given you any more work. you still had your tutor sessions but they never bothered you too much. now you're sitting staring at your laptop pretending you're doing research. Cady is scribbling in her notebook. Once again you're bored. and you can't help but watch Cady and wonder if she really has forgiven you. sure you were together right now but only because of this stupid presentation. you sit up a little straighter, taking a sip from your water bottle. "are you mad at me?"
it's sudden and she seems perplexed as she glances up at you. "huh?"
"I don't want you to be mad at me"
"I'm not mad," she urges, going back to her little scribbling. "you said Regina was lying, I believe you."
"just like that?" it seemed too easy.
"just like that,"
"how do you know I'm not lying about Regina lying though?"
"I don't." a shrug, she looks at you. "I'm just trusting you so can we please get back on track." you're not sure you would forgive someone as easily as this. it seemed naïve. or maybe she was just a better person than you. either way, this was what you wanted so...
"This is so boring," you whine loudly, pushing your laptop away so you can dramatically collapse against the table.
"if you actually help instead of complaining, we'd get it done quicker."
"Cady," you sigh loudly. "let's not, I'm just here to be pretty, okay? I shouldn't be forced to do homework too."
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure," you sit up properly once more. "ask away."
"Why do you hang out with Regina?" the question catches you a little off guard. why did she wanna know that?
"What does that have to do with the book?" you counter, a playful raise of your brow. "if you stayed on topic, we'd get it done quicker."
"I'm serious."
you shrug a little. "why wouldn't I? She's like one of my best friends."
"why though? I've seen the way she treats you,"
"you just don't get Regina," very few people did. sure she was kinda mean and pushy, you'd never deny that but the rest of the school didn't get to see her other side. which was also kinda mean but a tad softer. the blonde was fierce. if someone fucked with you, or Karen, or even Gretchen, she'd go to war. you've watched her destroy girls just to prop Gretchen up to Jason. maul boys for making fun of Karen. you only got away with half the shit you did because you were friends with Regina. maybe she kept you around because you showered her with love and attention but she, in her own way, gave it right back. "she can be a lot but she's really cool."
"she's horrible to literally everyone."
"yeah but that's like kinda funny," Cady gives you a look suggesting she doesn't agree which was fair but she didn't exactly pick the nicest people to be friends with. Damian was funny in class and you liked to tell him gossip that Gretchen told you. you never really spoke to Janis too much but you've seen her around. heard what she says about you. She makes jokes right to your face. "don't act like Janis doesn't do the exact same thing. why do you hang out with her?"
"That's different,"
"is it?" you challenge. "or is Regina just popular?" Cady seems to not have an answer because she goes back to the book. "she's my friend and I like her. simple as."
"I'm sorry for asking,"
"Don't worry about it," you weren't particularly angry. you knew how people viewed Regina. a mixture of high admiration and fear. "So did you enjoy your first party?"
"yeah. not exactly what I was expecting,"
"they're not all like that," you urge. "sometimes they're fun. sometimes you wanna stab yourself in the eye to get out of it."
"did you have fun?"
"fun is not the word I would use but it was an experience," After Cady left you kind of just sulked with Gretchen until Karen found you and insisted you had to dance together. you spent the rest of the night with her. "I'm happy you came. I wish Regina hadn't messed everything up."
"sorry I left."
"you don't have to apologise." you smile. "we're hanging out now even if you're making me do homework. and there's always next time."
"I'm not making you do homework," Cady argues. you just smile. shuffling along the bench so you're right beside her. She has the book open in front of her and a notebook full of scribbles. you repeatedly tap the notebook with your finger.
"Are these not notes for our project? is that not homework?"
"yeah but these are my notes," she expresses, snatching up her notebook to place on the side away from you. As your eyes meet, you can almost pinpoint the exact moment she gets flustered. a dusting of pink gracing her cheeks. "you're just fucking about."
a dramatic gasp before a smile takes over. "I would never."
Cady smiles and before you have time to react she is leaning in to connect your lips in the softest of embraces. it reminds you of the first time Regina kissed you. only it never had the chance to become anything more before you pull back.
"Sorry- I didn't. I don't know why I did that." that dusting of pink is now a deep shade of red. panic in her voice. eyes firmly on her homework. you're unsure of what to say exactly. you liked Cady. maybe even the same way she apparently liked you. but you just weren't sure yet.
"It's alright, don't worry about it," you express. "uh... should we get back to the book?"
you weren't mad or upset with Cady. her kissing you had just left you feeling... weird? so even as you parted ways and you got texts later in the evening, you couldn't bring yourself to reply. you just needed some time to think.
Lunchtime is weird. Everyone is quiet. Painfully quiet. Karen and Gretchen are just eating their lunch. Regina is staring at the label of her yoghurt. you're sat there anxiously like a child bursting with energy. this was so unlike them. "can someone just talk already," you blurt out. a little startled, everyone looks at you. "sorry. just nobody is talking and it's freaking me out. normally Gretchen never shuts up."
"why are you even here?" Regina asks, twisting the dessert in her hand. you wish she'd just eat it instead of inspecting it.
"why wouldn't I be?"
"shouldn't you be over there with the pyro-dyke and her band of freaks." her head nods in the direction she means but her eyes never leave that stupid label. the nickname referred to Janis and Band of Freaks must mean Cady and Damian.
a sigh. "you're being ridiculous,"
"I'm being what?" Regina asked firmly. her yoghurt placed down slowly as her eyes zone in on you. sharp and daring. Karen gently nudges your leg with hers but you're not sure if it was an accident or a warning. you glance at her and then at Gretchen who is keeping her eyes firmly on her food.
"nothing. sorry," you say softly.
"stand up," voice low but commanding. you can't tell if she's serious so you remain seated. watching her. "stand up. now." she was louder now. attracting attention. putting on a show as various people looked to see what the commotion was. "you wanna run around with freaks and lesbos, then go."
"Are you-"
"go." you swallow hard. willing yourself not to crumble under the pressure of everyone's gaze. you could argue back but you know better than to challenge her when she's this pissed off. so you just push up, grab your tray and leave the table. you lock eyes with Janis along the way who is next to Cady. you can't join them like Regina so angrily implied, it'd just make things worse for them and yourself.
your last few classes of the day are spent wondering what you've done to piss off Regina today. you've hardly even seen her. maybe Gretchen told her about the hallway yesterday? She promised not to plus this seemed like a massive overreaction. you're at your locker, grabbing your stuff when Gretchen approaches. "Regina said if you can behave yourself you're allowed to come shopping with us,"
"hello to you too Gretchen," you slam the metal door shut. "no thank you.."
"Seriously?"
"she basically banished me from the cafeteria today, why would I wanna go anywhere with her?" you ask but it was mostly rhetorical as you start down the hall.
"you know she was only joking," the brunette trails after you.
"was she? felt pretty real to me,"
"that's just her humour," Gretchen assures you. "you have to come. Regina will be upset,"
"Regina doesn't have emotions," you fire back, pushing through the double doors, you almost collide with another person. "Jesus, watch out."
didn't take long to realise who it was. "it's Karen actually,"
"I know your name, baby" you pat her shoulder. "why are you right outside the door?"
"waiting for you," she takes your hand. "we're going shopping."
"I don't wanna do that," you express but Karen is already leading you towards Regina's jeep. "Karen, let go" you groan but put up little resistance. the blonde is leaning against the side eyes on you as you're being dragged across the front lawn.
"you found her then," the blonde comments, pushing away from the metal of her jeep. "thought we'd have to start putting up lost dog posters or something."
"why am I even here?"
"Isn't it obvious- get in the car." Regina climbs in and everyone else does the same. "we need someone to carry the bags."
why were you here? why had you given in so easily? You didn't even want to go shopping and now you're staring at yourself in the wall-length mirror of a dressing room, trying on outfits. with a heavy sigh, you step through the curtain
"what do you think?"
"you look great," declares Gretchen.
"beautiful," an eager Karen. She had picked it out.
Regina turns from the large mirror at the end of the space where she was inspecting the dress she was trying on to you. "ew." is all she says before turning back.
"yeah, I never liked it," Gretchen remarks quickly.
"try this," Karen shoves a hanger in your hand before pushing you back towards the dressing room. you stare at your reflection once more. you didn't think it looked too bad but maybe Regina was right. it wasn't exactly your style but that's because Karen picked it. it was more you than most of the outfits she tried to get you to wear... it did sit a little weirdly. you can hear Regina talking to the girls, sending them each on an errand. and then it's silent. you begin to undress when the blonde calls your name. you stop what you're doing. She says it again and you walk out.
"what's up?" you question cautiously. you weren't about to let your guard down around her.
"what do you think of this dress?" the blonde spins to face you. hands on her hips. your brow furrows. why did she want your opinion? your eyes drift. taking in Regina. notice every curve. She really was a sight to behold.
"looks good."
"That's all I get?"
"What were you expecting?"
The girl turns back. "A shower of complements but guess you're not even good for that anymore."
"I said it looks good?"
"I'm done with you now. go change out of that ugly outfit already."
you wanna say something but you decide to just bite your tongue and head back into the dressing room.
come the weekend, Regina is out of town with her parents which means you've ended up with babysitting duties. Gretchen and Karen had both decided they were coming over to your place. you didn't mind. so now you're loitering on the bed with your back against your headboard scrolling through your phone. Karen is snuggled up in half a blanket using your lap as a pillow also scrolling through her phone. it's silent but comfortable. Gretchen vanished about ten minutes ago and hasn't returned. "do we have to start hanging out with Cady?"
"What?" you glance down from your phone. 
"I don't wanna hang out with her, she's creepy."
"that's not very nice, Karen," you scold. "but no. why would we?"
"Because you're like a thing now," Karen answered, pressing her phone to her chest. She meets your stare. "you kissed"
"excuse me?" your heart practically skips a beat. you undoubtedly hadn't told anyone that Cady kissed you and you're almost certain she hadn't.
"what? Gretchen told us that she saw you and Cady making out after school on Monday," Gretchen fucking weiners. of course. but how did she know?
"by us you mean?"
"me and Regina," fuck.
"When was this?" you wonder. and as if summoned on cue, Gretchen emerges through the doorway and you can't help but raise your voice. "you told Regina I was making out with Cady?"
"What?"
"Karen told me so don't lie," you demand. "I thought we had a deal."
"I didn't tell her about the hallway."
"Are you stupid?" you press. Gretchen sits on the edge of your bed, fluttering her eyelashes.
"I'm sorry," a hefty sigh. the girl shuffled up the bed so she was beside you. "are you mad at me?"
"Obviously."
"but you love me?" you don't reply and she nudges your shoulder with hers. "right?" you stay silent, glimpsing at her withan empty expression. you did love her but you were pissed off with her right now.
"look at this," Karen shoves her phone straight up and into your view. it shows a picture of herself. you assume she had just taken by the outfit.
"adorable," you smile walmly but it quickly fades. Gretchen had very much fucked you over. That day with Cady, you hadn't seen anyone around other than a few stray students. why was Gretchen even still there? and why hadn't she asked you about it before telling Regina?
"did you see what Kelsey posted today?" Gretchen questions, pulling out her phone. "it's so pathetic. like she's clearly doing it just for attention." you let your head fall back against the wall as Gretchen proceeds to talk in your ear. your mind drifts to the day in the cafeteria when Regina embarrassed you in front of everyone. you had thought it was an extreme reaction to a conversation in the hallway but turns out it was because of the kiss. was she that jealous of the idea of you and Cady? That made little sense when she was running around with Shane.
"Does Regina hate me?"
"of course not," Gretchen insists, a comforting hand placed on your shoulder. "you know anger is basically her love language. she just cares a lot."
"Regina thinks Cady is a freak," Karen contributes. "and that you hanging out with her makes us look bad."
"We were just doing homework."
"I saw you kiss her," Gretchen retorts.
"she kissed me,"
"you have been hanging out with her a lot," Karen states
"and you invited her to Connor's party," Gretchen resumes.
"yeah but..." you trail off because you really don't have a comeback. All those things were very much true. "this is stupid."
"if you had just listened to me-"
"Jesus, we get it Gretchen" you huff sharply and then feel bad for it. "sorry but you have to stop saying that- I should be able to talk to a girl without it being the end of the world."
"maybe talk to less weird girls?" Karen proposes brightly. "like me.... or Gretchen.... oooh or Regina."
"Thanks for the suggestion." you tap her nose gently, making her face scrunch up. "but I meant other than you three."
"you can talk to whoever you want," Gretchen reassures you, dropping her head to your shoulder. "as long as Regina approves."
"you sound insane,"
Gretchen shrugs. Karen's attention has returned to her phone. and you were suddenly so aware of how insane being friends with Regina George truly is.
the bell for first period has you walking down the hallway towards your history class. you share it with Gretchen who you haven't spoken to since Sunday. you're still mad at her.
"Hey, can we talk?" your brow furrows a little. it was Regina. and you were still mad at her too for last week.
"I have to get to class," you huff but she doesn't take the hint; instead she takes your hand and drags you straight into the nearest closet. it smelt like chemicals, dust and... vanilla. you imagine the vanilla is the girl, not the room.
"what the hell?"
"Just give me a minute,"
"why are we in a closet?" you wonder. it was cramped. a painfully buzzy lightbulb hung over head, flickering through an array of intensities. shelves full of supplies.
"I'm sorry, okay?" your eyes were looking anyway but at her until now. staring into blue-green eyes. did she just... apologise for something? was this a dream? your dreams never normally included Regina apologising but that seemed like the only way this could be real. "I'm sorry I got mad over you and Cady. you've just been acting weird since she joined"
"Are you... fucking with me right now?""
"what? I can't apologise?"
"I never said that," you did imply it but you would never say it. "I'm just confused." a shrug of your shoulders.
"I just don't like it. I don't like her," she wasn't about that. you weren't confused about her feelings towards Cady. you were confused as to why she was apologising for it? also, why do you have to do this in the closet? couldn't you have done this in a place with such a dizzying aroma? "I get like angry when I see you together. and then when Gretchen told me you kissed her-"
"she kissed me."
"Whatever," a dismissive wave. "I mean, it just was a lot y'know."
"not really" Your brow furrows.
"you're not that fucking dense, are you?" as the blonde takes a step forward, you take a step back crashing into a bucket and mop. She grabs your wrist. maybe an attempt to save you? "careful." said much softer. caring almost. it makes you suspicious. more so than the apology you hardly believed in the first place.
"we're gonna be late for class," you answer quietly. you try to pull your arm away but her grip doesn't falter. it's firm and tight; possessive almost. "Regina, please,"
"you promised to stay away from her," Regina mentions softly. you think back to that day. Regina straddling your lap. hands on your chest. moving against you. soft lips. it makes you blush. she pulls you closer. "promised you didn't like her more than me." her other hand gently cups your cheek. "was all that a lie?"
"no," you shake your head slow and stern. "no. i-"
"you kissed her." stated firmly.
"she kissed me," you argue back. her fingers press a little harder into your cheek.
"don't remember asking," expressed as she leaned in close. hot breath hitting your skin. vanilla fills your nostrils. "tell me you love me," whispered. you swallow hard. "please."
"Regina..." grip on your wrist tightens.
"go on."
"I... love you," you sound more confused than sure.
"more than cady?"
"you're my best friend,"
a once gentle hand now grips your chin. "more than Cady?" asked again.
"uh... more than Cady,"
"say you're obsessed with me." her lips loom mere inches from yours threatening a kiss.
"I'm... obsessed with you." her eyes are so intense, it's kinda scary. it's always treacherous being so close to her.
"Good," her lips press into yours. fierce and strong. but gone just as quickly. "I'll see you at lunch." she lets go and leaves without another word. The door to the closet closes with a click. insane. you remain for a few minutes. a little lost. a little confused. then you leave for class.
sat at a table under the beautiful shade of a massive umbrella during your free period. Cady is opposite. Gretchen was supposed to be here too but you don't know what happened to her. probably worried about sitting with Cady. "why are you doing work?"
"It's a study period. you should also be doing work,"
"It's almost lunchtime don't be ridiculous," you groan loudly. the bell rings mere moments later bringing a smile as the animals are released from their classrooms out into the wild. "see."
"you didn't do anything,"
"never do. That's half the fun of a free period before lunch."
"hey baby," that was Regina's voice. you look up promptly, half expecting her to make a comment or demand your presence but instead, she takes a seat right beside you.
"Hello," you try not to think about earlier. about how weird this is and focus on the fact she seemed to be in a good mood. her arms snake around you, drawing you back into her embrace.
"Cady,"
"hi Regina,"
"you look good today," Regina comments. your brow furrows. she was being weirdly affectionate. should you be concerned? probably but you were gonna enjoy her openness. the last week had been so weird and you kinda of just wanted things to go back to normal. and while this wasn't exactly normal, you prefer this to outward anger.
"thank you,"
"Now say it back," you roll your eyes but wear a playful smile.
"you look radiant Regina," said playfully. She gives you a quick squeeze and you finally settle in her embrace.
"I know," hummed in your ear. "so do you wanna come to mine after school?" muttered in your ear.
"what's the occasion?"
"I want you to," Regina declared. "why does it matter? you're coming over."
"am I now?" you ask playfully.
"We should get food," Regina lets go and gets up. you watch her for a moment expecting her to bark a demand but she doesn't. she just walks away. it freaks you out so you bid farewell to Cady and go scampering after the blonde.
"you good?"
"course," she states as you fall in step.
"you're being strange," you observe. "I was half expecting you to drag me away from that table."
"what's the point?" she asks. "you'd just go running back to the little nerd."
"no running is involved."
"running. skipping. drooling." the blonde teased. when you enter the lunch room, Gretchen is already sitting alone at your usual table. "like a love-sick little puppy dog."
"Okay, ew, no,"
"where have you been?" Gretchen wonders as you approach. She knows where you've been. you text her.
"no love involved whatsoever,"
"Who are you in love with?" Gretchen asks.
"no one,"
"I got tater tots," Karen announces as she zooms past with a try, taking a seat at your lunch table.
"oooh, they have tots today? let's go get food," you grab Regina's hand and start pulling her towards the food. Gretchen comes scrambling after the two of you. "I'm starving."
"aren't you always," Regina comments. the sea parts as she leads the way to the front of the line. it's unfair. but you never call her out. you always take advantage.
"Who are you in love with?" Gretchen repeats
"nobody, we moved on,"
"god keep up Gretchen," Regina huffs. you're so excited about your tater tots you practically run back to the table with your little tray. your two friends in toe. you take your usual seat next to Karen. Regina sits opposite with Gretchen.
"Cady keeps looking over here," Karen announces, popping a tot in her mouth. "it's creeping me out."
"she's so weird," Regina sighs. "if she's anything like her freaky friends it's because she's obsessed with our dear sweet puppy,"
"she is not obsessed with me,"
"This is what happens when you give losers attention, " Regina persists. "they think they have a shot. soon she's gonna think she can just come over and talk to us and it's your fault."
"Firstly, she would never do that. She's intimidated by you," you express. "secondly. she is sweet, you gotta lay off her."
"as she should be," the blonde looks disgusted. "also gross. She's so fuckin weird."
"you guys are being mean,"
"Is it mean if it's true?"
"still yes," you insist. "I like cady."
"We know," Gretchen states. Regina shoots her a dirty look.
"you don't get to talk Gretchen," Regina spits. "you never shut up about Jason like he's not disgusting."
"Cady would be cute if she just learnt how to dress. and do her makeup," Karen interjects.
"I don't even think that would help."
"Can we stop talking about her please?"
"don't wanna hear us shit talk your girlfriend."
"not my girlfriend." you argue. "but I would like this to end. quickly. let's go back to Jason that dude fuckin sucks."
"he's so sleazy," Karen adds. and the conversation flows into something other than you and Cady. thank god.
you're lying on Regina's couch. in Regina's room. alone. after school. you expected Karen and Gretchen to be here too but alas they weren't here. after this morning, you wouldn't be surprised if this was some cult worship ceremony. the door creaks open and in walks the infamous blonde. a glance before going back to your phone.
"my mum wants to know if you're staying for dinner,"
"am I?" you don't even know why you're here. and knowing Regina she could kick you out at any moment.
"I said yeah but you don't have to," a shrug.
"guess you're not mad at me anymore then,"
"When was I mad at you?" she questions, sitting down on her bed.
"When are you ever not?" you tease. "sometimes I think you hate me."
"if I hated you, you wouldn't be here," the blonde comments.
"you've been so short with me recently." you sit up properly.
"Because you've been acting different." the girl insists. "and it's weird. and I don't like it. I want you to go back to how you were."
"I don't even know how I've been acting different?" you lean back. "I think you're just jealous."
"jealous of what?"
"Cady." you see her eyes narrow. jaw tense.
"you are obsessed with her."
"not obsessed," you correct. "I don't even know what is going on between me and Cady."
"but you like her?"
you shrug. "do you like her?"
"no," it makes you smile for some reason. same old Regina. number one cady hater. "not even a little. she's strange. can't dress for shit. really awkward."
"tell us how you really feel," you chuckle a little.
"you'll just call me mean," like she wasn't already being mean.
you shrug. "I like when you're mean."
"I know," a smile quirks at her lips. the blonde pats the space next to her. "come here,"
"why?"
"Just come here," a dramatic sigh. you push up and cautiously walk over to sit down next to her. "why are you acting so scared of me?"
"I don't know," you shrug. "kinda expecting you to push me off the bed or something."
"why would I do that?" her brows furrowed.
"Because you're evil," a smirk slowly takes over her lips. you nudge her softly with your shoulder.
"I love it when you call me evil,"
"I know," you reply. "because you're obsessed with me."
"you wish."
"I don't have to wish," you tease. "because you're obsessed with me."
"you're really pushing your luck here," Regina comments. "stop." her tone suggested she was done playing. the blonde falls back against her bed. you just look at her as she starts typing on her phone. "and stop staring at me freak."
"but you're so pretty,"
"your girlfriend wouldn't like you saying that."
"not my girlfriend," you insist. "no more than you are." the blonde doesn't respond and you both fall into a comfortable silence. you lie down beside her. "why did you invite me over?"
"make out. prove a point. why do you think i asked in front of cady?" you just shrug. the girl sighs loudly and discards her phone off to one side before rolling onto her side to look at you. you just turn your head to face her.
"for someone so smart, you really are stupid," you'd be offended but there was hardly a point. she just watches you, watching her. you crack under her gaze and look away but she just reaches over and forces you to look at her. "do you know why I keep you around?"
"Because you love me?" said playfully but quietly. you know it's not the answer she was looking for.
"I like the way you look at me," she admitted quietly. "everyone stares at me but you... you look at me like I'm the only person in the entire world." she went on. "like you just can't get enough." you don't know what to say. Regina was like nobody you had ever met but in a different way to Cady. She just commanded attention. a beauty beyond words. and sometimes you wonder why you ever caught her eye. the girl shuffles closer now. "you can run around with freaks. you can be confused about Cady. but at the end of the day, none of it matters." that hand on your jaw loosens and begins to trail down over your neck. "you'll always come running back to me."
"What makes you think that?"
"It's in the way your breath hitches when I'm close. the way your eyes linger when I walk away. the way you so easily melt under my touch," her voice was gentle but taunting. her hand slipping lower and lower down the length of your body. you could hear your heart beating loudly in your chest. an onset wave of heat flushing your cheeks. "I can say or do whatever I want," her hand stops at your thigh, squeezing roughly. body leaning into yours. pressing you further into the plush fabric of her bed. "and you'll always be mine." whispered sharply before her lips meet yours and the fire makes the rest of the world melt away. you reach up to draw her closer. deepen the kiss and the way she groans makes your head spin. but then she pulls away unexpectedly. "oh I forgot to mention Shane is coming over after dinner so you gotta be gone by then. Cool?" you can feel the emotions stirring. it's weird and confusing. Shane's name fills you with anger; annoyance even. through no fault of his own. was she fucking serious? but at the same time you couldn't move. maybe a wiser person would have stopped everything right here. walked away with their dignity in their hands. Cady was probably a safer option. she liked you. and maybe you liked her too. but there was just something about Regina. being on her good side meant the world worked for you too. it was a world you'd become so accustomed to, you can't imagine it any differently. you can't imagine a life without the blonde. you didn't want to leave. you wanted to chase the high of each kiss. the pain as her nails dig into your skin. the firey mess of being with her.
"cool." you nod simply, pulling her back into the kiss. dignity was overrated when it came to Regina George anyway.
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fangirl-dot-com · 3 months
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The Inheritance
Guys, I keep messing up the timeline. So here we go. Christian, Geri, and Mitch find out about Lorenzo and your parents disowning you at your last F2 race. Max finds out about Lorenzo in this chapter (although not written in detail). Max then finds out about your parents in chapter 18 “All For You.” 
This is proof that I listen to my readers :D @dreamy-state-of-mind asked to see how reader bought her cars and this chapter was created! I can't do every ask for an idea but I try to listen to what y'all want!
Y'all are being fed...two chapters in a row (which means the next one won't be out for a little bit - so I apologize!)
Like always comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated! Enjoy!
TAG LIST IS CLOSED
Your hands were in your pockets as you walked around the open room. You had somehow lost Max, Vito, AND Christian. It wasn’t like you meant to walk away, you just did on accident. How could someone know that the foreign car dealership was this big. Well, you would know, but that’s beside the point. 
It was quite cold in Germany. Thankfully, you had packed extra layers, something the men seemed to not know how to do. You were sure that Max would have worn his Red Bull polo if you didn’t mention to Kelly where you were going. Sure, he could dress on his own, but who would want that? 
Your eyes gazed at all of the cars on the floor. Most were the common stock models. Audis, Mercedes, and even Volkswagens littered the area; yet, the cars you were looking for were nowhere to be found. You kept heading in the same direction, hoping to at least find a familiar someone who looked like they worked there. 
Your ears picked up on some German words. Feet taking faster steps, you rounded a corner. Ah, there they were. 
Somehow you completely missed seeing that the Porsches would be in a different room. You gingerly stepped farther into the vast open-ceiling room. Your hand itched to touch them, but you knew better. 
Looking at the cars brought back some great memories of the first time your godfather took you here. Yes, he could have gotten any Italian brand of car that he wanted. Everything was at his fingertips. Yet, he brought 11-year-old you to Germany to get his imported cars. 
Your eyes landed on a familiar model. If you thought hard enough, you could hear the imprints of Lorenzo’s and your laughs as he took you to do donuts in abandoned parking lots. 
“A beauty isn’t she,” a voice scared you, causing you to fall on your ass. Your cheeks burned at the thought of being caught. Yet, when your eyes met familiar friendly ones, the redness left. 
“Hi Seb,” you greeted as you took his outstretched hand that he offered. He pulled you to your feet and into a hug. After you were done, you pulled away to turn back to the car. This time, you let your hand gently grace the older door. 
“Enzo had one,” you simply stated, leaving it at that. Most knew you didn’t like to talk about the man, since it brough on so many emotional memories. 
Sebastian took a couple steps and stood next to you. 
“Do you still have the keys to the garage?”
You grinned up at the German ex-driver. “Of course I have the keys. You know he left me the entire house.” 
He bumped your shoulder, head jerking to lead you away from the car. You followed without hesitation. 
“What do you plan to do with it?” 
You cocked your head in thought. “I’m going to keep it for now. I don’t want to sell it. It’s not like I need the money anyway.” 
He chuckled. “I forget that you’re like a multi-millionaire at 20.” 
You just shrugged. “Not my fault that I was basically his only family. I never asked for it.” Your eyes dropped to the shiny floor below. A hand was placed on your shoulder. 
“I know. I’m glad that you’re well off. Makes me feel better about not seeing you as much.” A sad smile graced his face as he looked at you. 
You tried your best to give him a genuine one in return. “I’m doing much better than I was.” 
“Have you showed Max your vast array yet?” 
“Nope.” You popped the ‘p’. “I plan to soon, actually. I told him that I needed to go to Italy after this.” 
Seb raised his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything else. You went to talk, but familiar voices echoed in the big room. 
“Kid!” 
“Seb?” 
Your head whipped toward the sound. Ah, there they were. 
And they brought an assistant with them. 
Max and Christian looked at Seb in question as Vito brought the German into a big hug. You stood toward the side to watch the two friends reunite. The assistant took this opportunity to approach you. 
“Ah Miss L/n, so good to see you again!” 
“Again?” Max questioned, looking at you. 
The assistant turned to the Dutchman. “Yes. Miss L/n has been a patron at this establishment for years now.” He turned back to you. “I have the two models that you called ahead for. I will lead you to them.” 
The man turned on his heal and began to walk deeper into the room. 
Sebastian was now talking to Vito and Christian, which led to Max walking by you. 
“I didn’t know you’d been here before.” 
You looked up at him with a sly smile. “My godfather bought a lot of his cars from here and would take me with him. Some of the cars at the front are a part of his collection that I donated when he passed. He left me so many, I didn’t know what to do with them.” 
Max stopped in his tracks as you kept walking. Once he got over his shock, he sped up to catch you. 
“So many?”
You placed a hand on his shoulder. 
“Maxie, how much money do you think I have?” you asked, an innocent look on your face.
“Couple thousand?”
You shook your head. 
An eyebrow rose. “A couple hundred thousand?” 
Another shake as a mouth dropped. 
Max looked around before whispering, “Millions?” 
“Bingo. We’re going to tour my house when we go to Italy.” 
You kept on walking, leaving the even more confused Dutchman. 
“House?” 
A few steps more and you had caught up with the group of four men. Christian whistled at the sight of what lie before him. 
“Thank you Mr. Klein,” you shook the assistants hand as you looked at the two dark green cars in front of you. “Did the payment go through well?” 
The man nodded. “Yes it did. Mr. and Mrs. Fischer send their best regards and also thank you for the donation.” 
The four men (minus your manager) gawk at you. Yet, you were too busy beaming. 
“I’m so glad. Tell them that I will reach out the next time I’m here for longer. I want to see their children again, I miss them.” 
With a couple more goodbyes, weird stares, and going over plans to ship your Porsches to Monaco and England safely – you were on your way to Italy. 
Thankfully Sebastian wanted to join, saying something about how he hadn’t seen the house in forever. Which brought on more questioning looks from Max. 
However, Christian had to sadly say goodbye as he had a connecting flight to go somewhere else for business. You promised you’d send some pictures when you could. 
A chauffer had met you at the airport, names written in fancy calligraphy on a starch white piece of paper. 
The man gave you two cheek kisses as you greeted him. 
“Guido! Come stai amico mio?” (how are you my friend?) 
Max couldn’t wipe the look off his face as you began to talk to the older gentleman in perfect Italian. Vito only patted his shoulder. 
“You’ll get used to it. She’s definitely someone to unravel. You’ll get there.” 
The four of you then followed the man to the Rolls Royce that was waiting in the parking area. Suitcases were loaded in, and the three of you were on your way to your house. 
Or, more like mansion/estate/castle that Max found out as the car pulled closer. He turned to you. 
“Kid?” 
“Inheritance Max. Inheritance.” 
Your door was opened once the car was parked. Multiple people came out of the house, wanting to greet you. 
“La mia famiglia! Mi siete manvati tutti!” (My family! I’ve missed all of you!”) 
A couple of the staff took your bags as you walked through the giant doorway. Once you were through, you turned around and opened your arms. 
“Max, welcome to Casa di Lorenzo Alessandrino.” 
Max’s head was in a state of looking upwards as he walked in. He would have held his mouth open, but the interior seemed to demand respect as power and poise dripped from its walls. Now it was turn for Max’s hands to itch, wanting to touch everything.
Once everything was settled, you gave Max a tour as Vito and Seb went to go get some drinks. Your fingers twirled a special key ring as you led Max to your garage. 
You turned to him and gave a smile. “You ready?” 
Let’s just say, Max was not ready to see so many cars. Max let his jaw drop. 
The garage was deep and long, probably housing close to 40-ish cars. Your eyes glimmered as you looked at the older cars that you missed dearly. 
“You can go look you know,” you told Max as you made your way down the little staircase to the floor. Your heels clicked and echoed with each step. Max was quick to be on your tail. The Dutchman made his way quickly to each car, stopping for only a second before getting distracted by the next. 
You hummed as you looked at the empty spot among the Ferrari’s on the back wall. You pointed to it when Max came up beside you again. 
“The only car Lorenzo never had in his collection was the F40. I need to talk to Charles or Carlos about seeing how I can get one ethically. I want to complete the collection, but not pay far more than what it’s worth.” 
Max nodded, soaking in your words. He was about to say something, but a flash of orange caught his attention. His eyes sparkled as he looked at the spaceship looking car. 
“What kind of car is that?” 
You smirked as you gazed on your most prize possession. 
You walked closer and clicked the keys, making the car roar to life only for a second. (You don’t want to give you and Max monoxide poisoning.) 
Your hand ran over the orangey hues that covered the car.
“This is the Apollo Project Evolution.” 
Max looked down at the hyper car. 
“What that a V12?” 
“Yep. A Ferrari V12 to be exact. Three million dollars, one in ten made, over 700 horsepower, and completely street legal. I’d take you for a ride, but I would rather keep this between me and whoever knows about it.” 
You turned on your heel to start walking toward the door where you walked in. “I bought it because it reminded me of the spaceship from Guardians of the Galaxy.” 
Max snickered as he could imagine you at 14-years-old, watching that movie and falling in love with the space craft. Then, he imagined you last year, trying to find out how you could get your hands on it. 
He took one last glance at the big room, before following you back into the house. He softly shut the big door behind him. 
“Does Arthur know about this place?” he asked as he caught up to you, not wanting to get lost. 
You softly smiled at him. “Yes. I brought him here after Lorenzo passed away in 2020. I just didn’t want to be alone. Vito was here as well.” 
Max returned your sad smile. You and Vito had told him about the place on your way here. Tears were shed, hugs were given out, but you’d get through it. 
But then he suddenly pouted at the thought of you not bringing him here earlier. 
You tutted. “Don’t worry, Charles hasn’t been here if that’s what you’re pouting about.” 
That brought an instant grin to his face. You rolled your eyes at his childishness. Soon, you joined Vito and Sebastian in the kitchen. Aperol Spritzes lined the kitchen counter. Your hand reached one, before Vito was thrusting an different one into your hands. You pouted when you realized that yours was probably nonalcoholic.  
Sebastian snorted. “Let the kid have one.” 
“Vito, what do you think they do for podiums? Make sure mine isn’t actual champagne?” 
Vito rolled his eyes and handed you one from the kitchen counter. You quickly smiles and took a sip of the bubbly drink. 
“So kid, did you show Max the garage?” Sebastian raised an eyebrow as he took a sip of his own drink. 
You nodded as you placed your cup down. “Yep!” 
“And the track?” 
“You have a track!?” 
y/n.89 has posted
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y/n.89 glad to be back to my home away from home. Italia, quanto mi sei mancato. conserverai sempre ricordi preziosi e non posso ringraziarti abbastanza per amarmi da bambino. quando tornerò sarò sul podio, ne sono sicuro
(translation : italy how i've missed you. you will always hold precious memories and i can't thank you enough for loving me as a child. when i return, i'll be on the podium - i'm sure of it)
liked by sebastianvettel, vito_official, y/nlover, and 58,204 others
y/n's_fav who was going to tell me that our girl knows Italian?
y/n_updates she speaks it fluently! her godfather was Italian and taught her when she was growing up! y/n_on_top all I'm hearing is that her, Carlos, and Charles can now talk shit about Max if needed
charles_leclerc quindi Max non riesce a capire? (so max can't understand?)
y/n.89 no, quindi è ora di svelare i segreti dell'infanzia, Charlie (no, so spill the childhood secrets Charlie) carlossainz55 abbiamo molto da dire (we have a lot to tell) maxverstappen1 I CAN READ MY OWN NAME - I KNOW YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT ME y/n.89 senti qualcosa? (do you hear something?)
vito_official così felice di essere a casa. possiamo restare ancora un po'? Guido e Luigi dicono che gli manchiamo troppo (so glad to be home. can we stay a bit longer? Guido and Luigi say they miss us too much)
y/n.89 mi mancheranno così tanto. torneremo presto! (i'll miss them so much. we'll be back soon!)
sebastianvettel glad to have been able to go with you! I'll see you soon kinder!
y/n_in_italy NOT HER HOUSEKEEPERS'S NAMES BEING GUIDO AND LUIGI
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TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @agent-curt-mega @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @cashtons-wife @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19
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lucyandalexiafan · 2 months
Text
I'm scared | Alexia Putellas x Reader | part 2
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summary: first time that Alexia and reader talk about sex (specifically: masturbation) after the walk.
warnings: angst, allusion to past sexual abuses. really light smut moment (r comes home early and sees Alexia have orgasm using a vibrator).
words: 3k
Part 1
When you had spoken to Alexia about your past, about those experiences, you hadn't expected her to be so understanding and engaged in helping you.
Even though you knew she was a sweet person, kind, and in some way you knew she loved you, or was starting to develop strong feelings for you, up until that day you had believed she wouldn't stay with you once she found out what had happened to you.
Alexia is beautiful, charming, loved by hundreds of thousands of people; she's the captain of Spain and Barcelona, which means she's surrounded by beautiful women, a lot of them probably much more predisposed to have sex with her and much less anxious about it. She's famous, so not only fans and other footballers would want something with her, but also other celebrities, like models or actresses or singers.
Alexia doesn't just play football, she's also a football activist, a model and she works with some brands, which means she works in contexts that allow her to meet many (beautiful) women.
All these things had made it difficult for you to think that she would stay after that walk.
She took you home once you had returned to the car because the next day she had to go to Madrid for work with Nike. Before getting out of the car, you had kissed her and, thinking it was the last time, you had tried to imprint the image of Alexia so close to your face in your memory. You thought you wouldn't see her again and that she wouldn't contact you anymore, that she would ghost you or break up with you by message.
You had spent that night sleepless, tears flowing heavily from your eyes and nausea that had forced you to sit on the bathroom floor for a few hours, the retching had painfully contracted your body several times during those hours. Even though you hated yourself every time you did it, you kept checking your phone hoping to see a notification from her, a message, a post sent on Instagram or TikTok, and the more time passed, the more you received no news from her, the more nausea and the tears increased, the more you believed you had lost her forever.
Yet, the next day, the sound of the doorbell had woken you up. You had struggled to get out of bed, the headache was killing you and your back seemed to be broken in two by the pain, the sweat covering your forehead was a symptom of yet another nightmare that had invaded your sleep. 
You looked at the video intercom and saw a delivery man. "Yes, who's there?" you had asked, your voice hoarse, ruined by crying.
"Hello, I'm from Bakery Adele, I was told I have to deliver this order to this address" the delivery guy had replied, his voice annoyingly shrill, before asking for confirmation of identity.
You had told him he could leave it at the concierge and that you would come down later, but he had persuaded you by saying there was a piping hot double espresso cappuccino and a freshly baked cream-filled brioche waiting for you.
You had put on a jacket that was hanging on the coat rack, a jacket of Alexia, and had gone down. The delivery guy handed you the breakfast, a little note attached to the package, and then said goodbye.
Bakery Adele doesn't do deliveries, never.
Once you had entered the house, you had opened the note, and tears had returned when you had read it.
"I thought of ordering your favorite breakfast from your bakery. Whenever you feel like it, if you want, write to me or call me, I'm always here. I miss you, but I'll wait for you to feel ready to talk to me. Alexia <3"
Tears, tears, and more tears.
You had bitten your lip as you grabbed your phone to video call her. You didn't care about the condition of your face or your hair at that moment, you only cared about seeing if it was true, if she was sincere. You had spent the whole night thinking she hadn't written to you because she didn't want to talk to you anymore, only to find out she was waiting for you?
"Amor," her voice, her sweet voice, invaded the deafening silence of your home.
"Ale-" you had replied trying to articulate a sentence, but inevitably ending up crying.
"What's wrong, amor? Are you okay?" she was worried, her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes squinted.
"I thought you didn't want me anymore and now the breakfast has arrived and I don't understand and-" You start speaking quickly, thoughts overlapping in your mind one after another, as you try to express yourself, to tell her how confused you feel right now.
"Take a breath, amor breath with me. Did you think I wouldn't call you? - you shook your head - Amor, I told you I'm in love with you, why would I leave you?"
You hadn't talked much, actually, because she was about to enter the store and there was a lot of confusion, but she had called you back that evening.
And the day after, and the day after that, until she had shown up at your house with takeout Chinese food.
A couple of days after she returned, you had asked if you could talk, if you could talk about what had happened. You knew that the best idea would have been to go to her place, a place from which it would have been easy to run away from her if things didn't go as you hoped, and not to your place, where Alexia could have stayed even against your will; but the emotional comfort you felt being in your own home was crucial to be able to talk to her, to face the situation.
You were at your home, on the couch: you were sitting cross-legged, your hands holding hers, and you had told her that you understood if this thing was bigger than her, if she didn't want to wait for some time to do something sexual, but you had also told her that a part of you would have wanted her to stay because you wanted to face this thing with her, that you truly wanted to face it.
Alexia, hesitant, had told you, after a while of talking, that she thought it was appropriate for you to start a therapy process, maybe also to go to therapy together, because only then could you fully face the trauma. She also made sure to tell you that if you couldn't afford it continuously over time or with the right frequency, she would help you financially because, yes, facing it, but with the right psychologist. Shyly, she had told you that she had done a couple of searches on the best psychologists in Barcelona for this type of trauma and had found one really good, and that she would also be available to do couple therapy.
You had told her you would think about it and a few days later you had contacted one of the psychologists on her list.
The initial doubts about her seriousness in being faithful to you and not seeking anyone else for sexual satisfaction surfaced when she left for a National Team camp, and they exploded when you thought she was cheating on you with Jenni. The endless social media edits you continued to see fueled the doubt that perhaps, while genuinely attempting to complete the therapeutic journey, she was seeking to fulfill her sexual desire with someone else in secret.
At the third couple's therapy session after that camp, you addressed the issue. You had resignedly told her that you wanted to know if she was with other women, that you would understand but needed to know. She was shocked. She had told you multiple times that she only wanted you, that she would wait for you, that she didn't want anyone else, that she didn't want Jenni.
You had discussed it several times in therapy over the next two weeks, and even outside of therapy, but Alexia always said the same thing: I will wait for you, I want you.
The doubts had more or less disappeared when few weeks later you caught her having an orgasm with a vibrator while she thought you were still out. You were on holiday in the Canary Islands, you had gone out to do some shopping and go to an open-air market while she was sleeping, and you had left her a message saying you wouldn't be back in two hours; too bad the open-air market was on Thursday, not Tuesday, so you had returned after a little over half an hour. 
As soon as you entered the house, you heard moans and silently approached the bedroom, only to see her in the middle of the bed, her hand between her legs and a buzzing sound in the background accompanying her moans. 
You froze in place, not knowing what to do, or what to say. 
You didn't even know she had a vibrator. You hadn't really thought about it, actually.
You hadn't even had time to think about how to react because shortly after she reached the peak of pleasure, so you quickly moved towards the door, opened and closed it more loudly, pretending you had just entered. You didn't know why you did it, maybe you thought it would be easy to pretend you hadn't seen her, but you were wrong, especially for two reasons: seeing her climax had made you incredibly horny and you couldn't remove the image of her having an orgasm from your mind, so you couldn't even look her in the eyes.
Alexia had sensed something was wrong and asked you if everything was okay at dinner, when she asked if she had done something wrong. You almost choked on the water you were drinking, your cheeks suddenly burning, as you tried to come up with some excuses, only to give in.
"Amor, I don't know how to say it - you lowered your gaze, embarrassed to admit it, afraid she would get angry - I... today I came home earlier than you think and I-I saw you-"
"Fuck - Alexia exclaimed bluntly - Amor, I'm sorry, I... it shouldn't have happened, I thought you'd be back later," her tone suddenly guilty, as if masturbating were a fault.
"Are you sorry? - you asked, looking her in the eyes, and she nodded, her face red with embarrassment - But... why?"
Her expression became confused. "I-you weren't supposed to see me, I don't want you to think-"
"Since when you do it?" you asked, then realized the stupidity of the question when the older woman tilted her head to the side; you tried to change the subject, but she asked you to talk about it, to ask her, because it was important for her that you talked about it.
"Do you want to know if I've been doing it since we started dating or when I started doing it in general?" her tone was so calm, so relaxed, that you trusted her, trusted that she really just wanted to talk about it.
That was the first time you had talked so specifically about your sexual life, at least hers. 
She had told you she lost her virginity to a girl when she was fifteen, started using sex toys at sixteen, that throughout her relationship with Jenni they had been an integral part of the relationship, but she started using them less when she broke up with her because at that point she was having a lot of casual sex.
"I had sex with other women before I met you, both occasional and steady partners, so I didn't really need to use them to have an orgasm. Then we met, the relationship became serious and we started dating, so I stopped seeing other people, and when I realized we wouldn't have sex, I started using them more often. Since you told me about your past, I've started using them frequently again."
You bit your lip as you listened to her, it was evident that she was hesitant, choosing her words carefully, but at the same time she was so sure, so calm. The calmness with which she spoke about it almost gave you comfort, almost reassured you that she wasn't lying, that what she was saying was true.
"You can ask me anything, amor, none question is stupid."
"Do you do it because we don't have sex?"
She nodded hesitantly. "How does this make you feel? - you raised your eyebrows, confused - I don't want this thing to make you feel bad."
"It makes sense that you do it - you replied, your tone devoid of negative emotions - We don't have sex and you need to... have an orgasm. Why didn't you tell me?"
She took a sip of water in an attempt to stall. "I... I thought you would take it badly, that you would feel guilty or something, and I didn't want that. I told you I want to wait for you, but I was afraid that if I told you you would think that I necessarily need someone to have sex with or for me to tell you to speed things up - she sighed - But as you saw, my sex toys give me great orgasms and I could go on just with them for years" she continued, trying to relax the tension that had been created with her answer.
You chuckled with her, even though you were sorry she did it in secret, that she did it only when you weren't there, that she was afraid you would take it badly.
It was her first orgasm you had seen, and you had never really thought about the fact that she could be satisfied in other ways than having sex with other people.
"I had never thought that you would seek orgasms in other ways than sex - you simply stated - It's a stupid thing, sorry."
"It's not, actually. We've never talked about this, about maybe masturbating or actually wanting to have sex, regardless of whether we do it or not - the reflective tone, the calm voice - For example, when I feel the need to have an orgasm, use a vibrator because the orgasms I have using it are generally more satisfying than when I just use my fingers; but when I want to have sex, as well as an orgasm, I use my fingers because they feel closer to what I could have having sex with you."
You widened your eyes at the revelation, at how calmly she said it. You knew it was normal for her to be calm, you were glad she talked about it freely, but you didn't expect her to be so sincere.
"I've said too much, sorry. Please forget it," she continued, her voice concerned, her gaze now on the plate, her hands quickly grabbing the fork and knife to put them on the plate.
"No! - you replied, scaring her - Sorry, I don't know how to talk about it, but I'd like to, I like that we talk about it."
There was a pause, Alexia was simply smiling at you, perhaps surprised that you were actually having this conversation, perhaps because she didn't know what to say.
"I masturbate thinking about you," you said, a statement.
The woman in front of you widened her eyes, a choked moan escaped her mouth, the dismay obvious.
"When I do it I-I think about the two of us having sex or-or... doing sexual things - you lowered your gaze, a sense of humiliation invading your body when she said nothing - Please don't be mad at me"
You close your eyes, scared at the idea that she might start yelling that it's disrespectful, that it's wrong for you to do it, or, worse, that she might get up to hurt you, or physically punish you for it.
"Get mad? Why should I get mad? - her voice confused - It's normal for you to masturbate, to seek orgasm."
"Even if it's not with you?" she nodded "It's just that we don't have sex but I masturbate and... doesn't it make you mad?"
Your voice sounded more frightened than you wanted, but it was true that you feared she would get angry. You didn't want to have sex with her, you were afraid to have sex with her, but you touched yourself thinking of her; how could she take it?
"I'm glad you can touch yourself, that at least that part of your sexuality hasn't been broken," she moved her hands towards yours, squeezing them between hers "There's nothing wrong, amor, I'd be a selfish insecure person to think otherwise."
You bit your lip as you looked at her, admiring her. How could she always know what to say, always say the right thing?
"So, did you like to watch me while I touch myself?" you coughed embarrassed, not knowing what to say, or how to explain it.
You had enjoyed watching her come, even though it was by chance and for a short time, even though it was an unexpected thing that shouldn't have happened. The image of her coming, of her orgasm, was imprinted in your mind.
"I- you were just so beautiful when you came. I don't know how to say it, I feel stupid, and- it was like, I don't know - you sighed frustrated - it's just that I wish it were me making you come like that, not a vibrator."
"There's time, amor," she told you.
She was right, there was time, but you wanted to be the one instead of that vibrator.
I'm sorry it took me so long to post this, a few bad things happened and I didn't have the mind to write. this is a text that I wrote about two weeks ago but I only translated it last night; I'm not 100/100 satisfied, but I wanted to introduce a moment of discussion about sex before anything sexual could happen. I dealt with the topic of insecurity and jealousy in a very light way (perhaps superficially) but it seemed like the only way to introduce the moment on holiday. the hardest part for me, and what makes me a little dissatisfied, was trying to figure out whether what I wrote about accidentally seeing Alexia have an orgasm was itself a violation of consent, or could be construed as an accident (which it actually is); I chose to interpret it as an accident that Alexia knew could happen and to avoid the parties considering it a violation of consent. If this seems wrong to you, or will trigger a lot of people, I think I'll revisit this chapter. as usual, thanks for reading what I wrote :)
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nyctophicbtch · 1 year
Text
The Songcord - Neteyam
[ Neteyam x Omatikaya!reader ]
Request: Can I request a Neteyam x Omaticaya!reader
Author’s note: I recommend listening to From Darkness to Light, The Spirit Tree, and The Songcord if you have tissues prepared
Warnings: angst, mentions of blood, death
Word Count: 3,101
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“Feels like I haven’t been here in ages,” you muttered, hands brushing the glowing strands of the tree of voices. Kiri and Tuk were already immersed in their own worlds, not hearing a thing you were saying. Spider was out exploring on his own, eyeing the sky, the flowers, the tree, and basically everything else.
“Better make the most of it then,” Lo’ak replied, attaching his queue to a strand.
Neteyam was standing near the bark, and it looked like he wasn’t going to join them any time soon, so you followed Lo’ak and did the same.
It had been a while since you’d done this, or had been anywhere near the tree at all. Although there were plenty of excuses to use, you knew you were just scared of what you’d see.
It was moments like these, where you’d hear and see your actual parents, that made you afraid. You had been fighting so long to earn your place here with the Sully’s.
Even though you started off wanting to befriend the family of the person who insisted on becoming your friend, it’d grown into something deeper over time. And every time you looked back to your parents whenever you visited the tree made you realize that you could never have what you actually wanted.
The feeling overwhelmed you, screamed at you until the bond was forcefully broken and you were thrown back off your balance. You didn’t know what was happening, but you could somehow make out Lo’ak’s muffled yelling over your blurry vision and ringing ears.
“Neteyam!”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know!”
“Move!” You felt hands grasping your shoulders, but you were too caught up on trying to breathe to see who it was. It felt like the air was sucked out of you and none of your senses were working properly. “Hey, it’s okay. We’re here.”
There was no coherent thought on what was going on, but you could feel the thumb gently rubbing small circles on your shoulder.
“Shh. You’re okay,” Neteyam whispered, leaning his forehead to yours.
Your shallow breaths slowly returned to normal, and you started to make sense of what was happening. You could start to feel the numbing of your legs from the uncomfortable position, and you could see Lo’ak’s worried gaze on you. You started to hear Neteyam’s comforting words clearer and feel the way he was holding you.
You heard the sigh of relief Lo’ak released when you felt yourself calming down and Spider running towards you, closing your eyes to let yourself succumb to Neteyam’s comforting hold.
He kept his eyes closed and forehead pressed against yours for as long as you’d like to assure you that he wasn’t going anywhere. It was only when you felt the numbing of your legs begin to worsen when you pulled away, finally looking at your surroundings.
Kiri and Tuk were still engrossed in their memories and it looked like they did not witness the scene that had just unfold beside them, much to your relief. You didn’t know how you’d explain this to the cheery child.
“Hey, you okay? What was that?” Spider questioned.
“I don’t know.”
They all decided to leave you to yourself and give you time to think, well except Lo’ak who wasn’t going to let it slide that easily.
“What did you see?” he asked as he sat down beside you, leaning his head against a tree.
“The usual.”
“Then why did-“ Lo’ak stopped himself with a sigh before he could interrogate you any further. “Don’t leave me hanging for too long. Talk when you’re ready.”
“Yeah. Of course.”
“Guys, it’s dark out we need to get back.” You heard Kiri call out from a distance.
“You were the one that took so long,” Lo’ak replied as he stood up, offering a hand to you for support.
“Let’s go, children.” Neteyam rallied everyone, placing a hand on Tuk’s back when she almost lost her balance.
You all ran back from the way you came, anxiousness gripping at each one of you when you saw the sky completely dark, the only thing lighting it up were the stars and moons.
But there was no room to worry about curfew when all you could think about was what had happened back there. Everything happened so fast you could barely process it.
“You coming?” Neteyam’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.
You looked up to the boy waiting for you, his head turned back to face you expectantly. In a matter of seconds, you regained your senses and jumped up to the branch near him.
Maybe you didn’t really regain all of your senses after all, considering how you slipped on the moss and fell backwards. Lucky for you, Neteyam had incredible reflexes, grabbing your hand before you managed to fall. Being the Olo’eyktan in training had its perks.
“Careful.”
“Thanks,” you muttered half-heartedly.
Neteyam decided he wasn’t going to press you further on it, giving you some space for whatever is going on in your head.
The branches suddenly felt further apart than they were, and your legs felt heavy as you leaped from branch to branch, following the Sully kids.
“Mom’s going to be so mad,” said Kiri as she ran past Lo’ak to catch up with Spider. Poor Tuk was left behind, so you grabbed her hand and matched your pace with the youngest Sully.
“Come on, Tuk,” you encouraged her when you saw the big jump she had to make. She pursed her lips and made a running start before leaping, Neteyam steadying her balance on the other side.
“Go ahead, I’ll be right behind you,” he whispered as you passed him.
You could see the circled-outlines of the moons in the sky, their glow being the only thing that allowed you to see your path, apart from the glow behind the opening in a tree bark that indicated you were finally there.
“And where-“ Neytiri started as Neteyam joined your circle. “Have you all been?”
Technically you weren’t actually family, you thought as you slowly backed away from them. With it being so dark and you standing on the edge of the group made your escape seem pretty easy. Neteyam noticed your movements but didn’t comment on it.
“You too.” You froze in your spot, Neytiri’s eyes trained on you like a spotlight.
You doubted that they saw you as family, but Jake and Neytiri had an odd way of making you feel like it. You had been a little younger than Tuk when Lo’ak had found you, and from there, each day you spent with the Sullys brought you closer to the family. But in times like this, you wished you didn’t feel like part of the family enough to escape Neytiri’s scolding.
-
“Why do they get to do the fun stuff while we sit here? I’d rather join them.”
“Suit yourself. I like it here,” replied Kiri.
Just on time, you stopped your pacing and ran out to the sound of the people shouting for the war party. The scene that greeted you wasn’t what you had initially expected, but it was no surprise either.
You kept your distance as you watched the two boys look down guiltily when Kiri approached, trying to drag the older brother out of the situation.
However, the huge gash on Neteyam’s chest worried you more than anything. His tail was swishing gently, showing the unease he felt.
Eventually, Jake let them both go and you followed them into the tent, and when the boys saw you, their faces lit up.
“Hey,” you approached Neteyam who was sitting on top of a wooden table with Kiri tending to his wounds.
“I’m offended you didn’t come to me first,” grumbled Lo’ak from the corner of the room. He had his arms crossed over his chest stubbornly, and the bright look turned into a sour one.
Although you knew he was messing around, you heard some truth in his words. Besides, it was Lo’ak that had befriended you first, and it was him that had spent his nights up to no good with you when his brother was busy being a good child.
“Missed you too, Lo’ak.”
“Ouch. Can you not?” Neteyam flinched as Kiri pressed into the cut a little too forcefully.
“Do you want me to help?”
“You’re doing this on purpose.”
“No I’m not,” she scoffed before pressing his wound even harsher, making him slap her hand away. “Now that was on purpose. You do it, I’m gonna find Tuk.”
Kiri gave you the bowl before exiting the tent. You were never one for healing, but you saw her plenty of times and she knew that. It was usually Kiri that did all the work when her brothers came back all bruised and bleeding.
“It’s fine. I don’t need it anyways,” Neteyam argued and started to get up when you smeared the sap on his cut.
“It’s deep. You’ll get an infection.”
“No it’s-“
“Sit down.” You gently pushed the hand that wasn’t holding the bowl to his chest and Neteyam sat down. He kept his eyes on you as you continued working on him, making sure to be extra gentle.
“I’m still here,” Lo’ak called out, unamused. “This is getting sappy. I’m leaving.”
“How come you’re younger than me and you get to boss me around all the time?” Neteyam started once his brother was out of earshot.
“I’m Lo’ak’s age.”
“And I see him as a baby.”
You sighed, feeling around his head to find any injuries. Neteyam could tell you were distracted and that your thoughts were everywhere but here with him just from the look in your eyes. You’ve been welled up in your thoughts ever since your last visit to the tree of voices, and the change of mood that came with it was evident.
“You okay?” Neteyam finally decided to speak up, wincing when you pressed on a sore spot in his scalp.
“Hmm?”
“You’ve been like this for the past week,” he explained. “Distant.”
“What do you mean?”
“Come on. I know you better than that. Lo’ak thinks it has something to do with me and he won’t shut up about it.”
“I’m fine.” You applied the sap with just a bit too much pressure on his head and he grasped your hand in his, bringing it away from his head.
“I won’t tell him,” he started when you finally looked at him for the first time ever since Kiri left. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”
Neteyam saw your hesitance and reached for the bowl in your other hand to set it down next to him. He lowered his voice, speaking gently as if he was afraid of hurting you. “What happened when we were in the tree of voices?”
“I don’t know. I saw my parents and when it stopped I just panicked and I don’t know why. This never happens. Then I started thinking about your family and how they don’t really consider me a part of their family made me wish I had something like that.” You didn’t even realize the tears were falling until you felt Neteyam wipe the ones that fell to your cheeks. He stood and put an arm around you to bring you into an embrace, allowing you to bury your face in his shoulder.
Every welled up thought and feeling from the past week you’ve tried to shove as deep in the back of your head as possible suddenly resurfaced all over again. Maybe you were too scared to admit it, but Neteyam’s comfort was what you’ve been needing.
“You’re as much of the family as I am,” he softly assured whilst pulling away, tilting your chin upwards with a finger to look at him. “It might not look like it, but we all care. Even mom and dad.”
And then Neteyam did something stupid.
He leaned in to press his lips against yours, his grip around you tightening to pull you closer. You could taste the salt from your own tears as you responded with the same amount of intensity, all the built-up emotions finally pouring out into the kiss.
Your hands reached out to wrap around his neck when you felt his tail brush against your leg, the slow loving movements indicating how blissed out he was.
You weren’t sure how long the two of you stayed in that tent, but when you pulled away breathlessly, Neteyam did the same with visible effort.
“How am I going to tell Lo’ak?”
Neteyam breathed out a small laugh and closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against yours.
“I’m more worried about dad.” At his words, you parted from him anxiously. “Relax. You’re family. If anything, they’ll be more worried about you than me.”
He wasn’t wrong. Jake looked like he was having a panic attack when the two of you told him and Neytiri.
“You want to tell me how this happened?” He pointed between the two of you who looked like guilty kids that had gotten caught stealing. You both glanced at each other hesitantly as Jake grew impatient waiting for an explanation from either of you.
“Neteyam kissed me.” Your voice came out so quiet you weren’t sure whether you’d said it out loud or if you’d only said it in your head.
Jake and Neytiri looked purely out of it. They cast their son a look while he looked anywhere but at his parents.
“Neteyam,” Neytiri warned.
The Olo’eyktan made sure to make the list of rules clear for the both of you. No wandering off too far alone together and definitely no sleeping together, even just next to each other separately. Jake mentioned how he knew it wasn’t uncommon considering how you’ve been doing that since you were children, but now it was off limits. He also mentioned a whole set of other rules and how he would kill Neteyam if the boy laid a hand on you or hurt you in any way.
In a way, the protectiveness they held towards you made you feel welcomed and accepted. It made you feel as if you were actually part of the family. And even more so when they offered you to join them to pursue lands beyond the Omatikaya clan.
Since the only people you’ve stuck to since you were young were their kids, Jake and Neytiri knew you’d be devastated if you had to part with them, especially when you were now attached with their eldest son.
There was no dismissing their offer from your side either. You weren’t going to leave the only people who truly knew you, and you weren’t going to leave Neteyam. Though you had to admit, you missed the forest just as much as everybody else.
“What’s that?” asked the youngest Sully as she peeked over your shoulder to get a closer look at what you were holding.
“A bracelet I’m making for you.” Her face brightened even more.
“It’s pretty!”
“It needs more shells. I’ll fetch some more outside and woah-“ your eyes widened when Neteyam and Lo’ak entered, all bruised and bloody. “What now?”
“Got into a fight with Tsireya’s brothers. They were picking on Kiri. Hey Tuk,” Lo’ak said, ruffling his sister’s hair.
“You too?” You looked at the older brother.
“What? Was I supposed to stand there and watch him get beaten up?”
“I could’ve handled them on my own.”
Neteyam snorted. “No, you’d be with Eywa if it wasn’t for me.”
Lo’ak grumbled his way to Tuk, who looked like she had so many questions for him. He picked up the bracelet you made and twirled it in his hands, earning an angry protest from his sister who snatched it away from his hands.
You were about to leave to go shell-hunting when a thought passed through your head after seeing blood on Neteyam’s lips.
It looked like it hadn't dried up, so you acted on impulse when you approached him and brought your hand to his jaw to pull him into a gentle kiss, making sure to lick his bottom lip where the blood was.
The kiss took Neteyam by surprise, and once he was about to respond, you pulled away, leaving him puzzled.
“You got blood on your lips,” you whispered, tracing your fingers along his jaw before reluctantly letting go.
“Gross, you two. Poor Tuk’tirey’s tainted.” You barely heard Lo’ak’s words as you walked away from them.
The rest of your days were filled with the same routine. You’d learn a thing or two from the Tsireya and then Lo’ak would stir up trouble with her brother and his friends. How they had managed to get along after some time was a miracle.
Everyday was filled with new discoveries of their waters. Tuk would ask to see something new almost every hour, and being the favorite, you’d accompany her almost every time. If you weren’t with Tuk, you’d be sitting somewhere with Kiri. If you weren’t with Kiri, you’d be exploring the waters with Lo’ak, and if you weren’t with Lo’ak, you’d be discovering new places on land with Neteyam.
Today, you were with Lo’ak, and you hadn’t expected that warning his Tulkun friend would turn into something much much worse. You weren’t even sure how it came to this point.
You were escaping the sky people when Kiri, Lo’ak and Tuk were taken. It was one thing after the other and the next thing you know, you were trying to keep your composure as you watched Neteyam writhe in pain from a bullet wound in his chest, your palm caressing his jaw to let him know you were here.
It’s okay. He’s going to be okay.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Jake voiced your thoughts.
“I want to go home.”
No. It’ll take more than a bullet to kill you.
“I know, I know. We’re going home.”
No. No.
You felt your heart breaking followed by a tear with every sob and pained sound that came out of his mouth.
“It’s okay,” you quietly assured him as your thumb gently stroked his cheek, the first word you’ve spoken coming off as a whisper.
Neteyam glanced your way one last time at your voice before the pain in his eyes turned lifeless and his convulsing body went still.
“No. No, no-“ Neytiri begged and it felt like the air was sucked out of you. “Neteyam!”
You couldn’t even hear your own scream over the ringing of your ears. Everything happened all too fast.
“Neteyam,” you sobbed, cradling his head close.
You can’t leave me. Come back.
:)
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girlgenius1111 · 5 months
Text
i wake up screaming from dreaming
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ingrid engen x reader
reader has a nightmare. ingrid picks up the pieces.
It was a common dream for you to have- you'd never had a good relationship with your parents. You often thought back to the culmination of this poor relationship; the night they threw you out, spewing awful, hateful things at you. You'd long ago given up trying to stop the replaying of this event in your nightmares. It had been years, and it still plagued your dreams.
You'd never had it before around another person, though. You'd had relationships before but you'd never spent enough time with the other person for them to happen to be there when you the memory visited your dreams. It wasn't like that with Ingrid.
You'd been together for only a few months, but already, you knew what you had with her was different. She knew you more than most people did, having an odd ability to see through you when you pretended to be fine. She didn't know everything, but all that she did know, didn't scare her off. The Norwegian always seemed like she wanted to know more, in fact.
Still, when you startled awake to the sound of her voice calling your name, rousing you from the horrifying memory, you couldn't help the fresh wave of fear that washed through you.
You were drenched in sweat, breathing hard, and looking around frantically. It was obvious to Ingrid what had happened, and she could tell how panicked you were, even with how out of it you seemed.
"Y/n, elskling," Ingrid called softly, careful not to touch you when you were in such a state. You looked at her from where you were propped up on your elbows, eyes wild. She reached over to the bedside table, flicking on the lamp, squinting as the light filled the room.
"Ingrid," you said breathlessly, as if just now really processing that she was there. Ingrid hated the look on your face, as if you were shocked that she was still laying next to you.
"Yeah, I'm right here," she said soothingly. Tentatively, she reached out a hand. You responded by all but launching yourself across the bed into her. She took your weight easily, leaning back and letting you settle on top of her. She could feel your chest stuttering with every inhale, and she began to run her nails up and down your back.
"It was just a dream, elskling, you're here with me, and you're completely safe," she murmured into your ear, feeling you nod against her chest. Being pressed up against her was calming you down fast; her long arms wrapped tightly around your body, holding you securely to her.
"Sorry for waking you," you gasped out.
"Don't be sorry, I'm glad I woke up," Ingrid shushed you. She sounded so sweet, so genuine. "Do you want to talk about it?" She asked, tone telling you that it was okay if you didn't.
"Not right now," you told her, wanting nothing more than to forget everything about the dream.
"That's okay. What about a warm shower?" she asked, wanting to find something that would make your body stop trembling.
At this, you pushed up off of her, rolling back to your side of the bed, face flushing red.
"I'm sorry, I'm all gross," you panicked, "I'll go shower now." You moved to get out of the bed, even as a little of the panic began to return now that you weren't inhaling the scent of Ingrid; pine and pear that made you feel safe.
Ingrid stopped you, though, with a gentle hand wrapping around your wrist. "No, kjære, that's not what I meant."
You looked at her, thick hair sleep tousled, but expression alert, awake. You didn't understand. Ingrid's heart ached at the how your bottom lip quivered, watery eyes hesitantly meeting hers.
"I thought a shower might calm you down, but if you want to stay laying here with me, that's fine to," she told you delicately.
"A shower sounds nice," you said faintly, again moving to stand up from the bed. Ingrid let you this time, and you walked shakily into the bathroom. The soft patter of footsteps behind you caused you to turn around, and you looked at Ingrid in confusion.
"Let me help," she insisted, stepping around you to turn the shower on. You did, allowing her to undress you and tie your hair up, before she absentmindedly tugged her own clothes off, attention completely focused on you.
"Ingrid, you don't have to," you started, but the brunette interrupted you, as she pulled her hair up into a loose bun.
"I want to," she said simply, and you decided to stop arguing as she pulled you into the shower. You reached for the soap, but she stopped you, guiding you to lean back against her under the stream of warm water.
"Just relax, jenta mi," she soothed. You hadn't realized you were still shaking, until Ingrid's arms were stilling your movements, and the warm water was washing over you. You let your eyes slip shut, leaning back against your girlfriend. "There you go," she murmured, leaning down to kiss your temple lightly.
After a few minutes, once your body had stopped trembling, Ingrid released you, fighting back a smile at the noise of complaint you let out. She grabbed the soap, lathering your body in it, her hands movement gently across your skin. She was so careful, so intentional with her movements, it made you feel loved, cherished. You stepped back under the spray, rinsing off, and she pressing you back into her chest, hands splaying out across your bare back. She completely enveloped you, your smaller frame fitting against her, tucked away.
It was so peaceful, in the dimly lit bathroom, the warm water raining down on you both, and your eyes fluttered shut once again. You didn't realize you started to drift off, through, until Ingrid pulled back, cupping your face with her hands, and pressing a peck to your lips.
"Don't sleep yet, let's get out of the shower first," she told you, and you could hear the amusement in her voice. You grumbled, but let her tug you out of the shower and dry you off. Your eyes remained closed, body following Ingrid's lead, until you felt her fingers lightly tap your cheek. You blinked open, finding her emerald eyes looking down at you.
"Wake up," she teased. "I'm gonna get some clothes, don't fall over,"
You nodded, fighting to keep your eyelids from falling shut. She left and returned quickly, and you felt a rush of emotion, of love, when she wordlessly helped you pull on a pair of her shorts and one of her shirts. Once she had pulled on clothes of her own, you sagged into her, completely drained. She supported your weight easily, leading you out of the bathroom, across the soft carpet, and back into bed.
You felt refreshed, calm, and so comfortable as you settled under the covers, resting your head on Ingrid's chest, scooting right up against her side.
The Norwegian was content to lay there with you, in silence, until you fell back asleep, which she assumed would be soon based on how you'd almost drifted off standing up in the shower. She lazily ran her fingertips up and down your arm, feeling sleep tug at her too.
She jolted slightly when you shifted, scooching up to rest your head higher on her shoulder, until your breath tickled the skin of her neck.
"Love you," you mumbled into her shirt, already half asleep, but unwilling to drift off until you'd made sure Ingrid knew how much you appreciated her.
Ingrid melted a little at your sleepy voice. "I love you too, elskling," she promised.
You allowed yourself to drift off, then, confident that if another nightmare found you, Ingrid would be there to bring you back to earth.
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writing about ingrid but not with mapi feels... incorrect. anyway here is something short and sweet :)
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