#but at the end it was the phone and distance
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home race - Oscar Piastri
Y/N x Oscar Piastri
Theme: Smut (you've been warned)
you're in a long-distance relationship with Oscar and surprise him at his "home race" x
word count: 3250+
taglist: @game-set-canet
open for requests :)
EN: Another big piece and I hope you'll like it. My first time writing Oscar.
You sat in your living room, staring at your phone. The screen displayed a countdown timer you set months ago when you and Oscar, your boyfriend, decided you could handle a long-distance relationship.
Living in the United States while dating a Formula 1 driver based in Europe wasn't easy, but the two of you made it work. You spoke every day, sent each other thoughtful gifts, and cherished the moments you could spend together in person.
The countdown finally hit zero. It is time for your big surprise.
Oscar is in Monaco for the Grand Prix, and you planned to surprise him for months since the season started. You told him you wouldn't be able to make it due to work commitments, but in reality, you managed to arrange everything perfectly, with a little help from the Mclaren Team.
You had your flights booked, your accommodation sorted, and a special pass that would allow you into the Mclaren motorhome, where Oscar would eventually be.
When you boarded your flight, you felt a mixture of excitement and nerves. You knew how much this surprise would mean to Oscar. The past few months have been challenging for him, dealing with the pressures of being a professional F! driver while missing you. You wanted to make this moment unforgettable.
After a long flight and a quick check-in at your hotel in Monaco, you head straight to the racetrack. You are wearing a Mclaren team hoodie, jeans, and a fitting cap, blending in with the team. You find your way to the motorhome and, with the help of a team member who is in on the surprise, get inside and wait for Oscar.
The atmosphere in Monaco is electric. The sun shines brightly over the azure waters of the Mediterranean, and the roar of engines echoes through the narrow streets of the city. The Monaco Grand Prix is one of the most prestigious races on the calendar, and the excitement is palpable.
The qualifying session just ends, and he pushes his car to the limit and secures second place on the grid. The team is ecstatic, and Oscar feels a rush of adrenaline as he climbs out of the car, waving to the cheering fans.
Inside the motorhome, your heart races as you finally hear footsteps approaching. The door opens, and you turn around to see Oscar standing there, a look of shock and disbelief on his face.
"Y/N? Is that really you?" Oscar's voice trembles with emotion.
You smile, your eyes filling with tears.
"Surprise!"
Oscar closes the distance between you in an instant, wrapping you in a tight embrace. He buries his face in her hair, inhaling your familiar scent, and holds you as if he never wants to let go.
At the same time, the faint scent of him swirls around you, and with a deep breath, you take it in, closing your eyes for a second to relish in this moment.
"What are you doing here?" He murmurs, his voice choked with emotion. "I can't believe you're here."
"I wanted to be here for you, at your home race." You say softly. "I've missed you so much, Oscar Piastri Leclerc."
Both of you pull back slightly to look at each other, your eyes meeting with an intensity that speaks volumes. Oscar cups your face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing away the tears that escape down your cheeks.
"I've missed you too, Y/N. More than you can imagine."
You kiss—a tender and passionate kiss that seems to make up for all the time you spent apart.
When you finally break apart, Oscar can't stop smiling.
"You look amazing in that Mclaren gear," he says, his eyes roaming all over you as they sparkle with admiration.
You chuckle, feeling a warmth spread through you. "I have to show my support for my favorite driver."
As you stand facing each other, the air between you seems to be charged with electricity. You feel the tension and excitement from qualifying still radiating off Oscar.
Tentatively, you reach out, letting your hand run across his firm chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heaving chest beneath your fingertips. His whole body is slightly tensed, still buzzing from the adrenaline rush.
Oscar's eyes soften as he looks at you, a smile spreading across his lips.
"It's so good to see you," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe.
You smile back, your gaze drifting over his racing suit. "You look so good in that green and yellow racing suit, Oscar. Really, you do. It suits you perfectly."
The special suit, designed to honor Senna, clings to his frame in all the right ways, accentuating his athletic build. The vibrant colors contrast beautifully with his complexion, making him look every bit the star he is.
Oscar chuckles, a hint of pride in his eyes. "Thanks. I didn't think I could pull off these colors, but hearing it from you makes me believe it."
Your fingers linger on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath. "I missed you so much," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion.
As your hand continues to stroke his chest, you feel Oscar's hands move to your waist, his fingers lightly gripping the fabric of your jeans. He pulls you slightly closer; your bodies now mere inches apart. The intensity of his gaze makes your heart flutter.
"Do you have some free time?" You ask, your voice soft and teasing, eyes glimmering with anticipation.
Oscar smirks, a playful glint in his eyes. "For you? Always."
The corner of your mouth lifts in a smile, your hand moving up to his shoulder. "Good." You breathe deeply, feeling the tension between you increase even more. "Because I've been waiting for this moment for a long time."
Unable to resist any longer, you lean in and kiss him passionately. The moment your lips meet, Oscar melts into the kiss, his arms tightening around your waist. The warmth and familiarity of the embrace make everything else disappear, leaving just the two of you in your own private world.
As the kiss deepens, you steady yourself against his firm chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm. His hum of approval sends a thrill through you, and you take your time, savoring the moment, relishing the closeness you missed for far too long.
With a teasing glint in your eye, you reach for the zipper of his racing suit. Slowly, you begin to unzip it, feeling the resistance of the fabric give way. Oscar's breath hitches as you draw the zipper down to his tummy, exposing his tight black fireproofs beneath.
You let your hands slip inside, and stroke his chest. "You look so good," you murmur, your hands resting on the exposed fabric. The smooth, taut material hugs his body, accentuating his toned muscles.
Oscar's eyes darken with desire as he looks at your hands running across his chest, a mixture of amusement and longing playing on his features. "You're making it very hard to concentrate," he says, his voice low and husky.
You chuckle softly, your fingers tracing patterns on his fireproofs. "Good," you whisper, leaning in for another kiss.
This time, it is slower, more deliberate; each touch and caress a reminder of the desire crackling between you.
As your kisses grow more intense, you feel the heat rising between your bodies. Oscar's hands roam over your back, pulling you even closer, as if he can't bear to let you go.
With your hands still roaming over his chest, you draw a line down to his abs, feeling the firm muscles beneath your fingertips. Each touch elicits several low growls from deep inside his throat, the sound sending shivers down your spine. As you continue your exploration, Oscar leans his head back, his eyes closing as he savors the sensation.
You decide to take things a step further.
"Let me help you." You breathe deeply, gently pushing the upper half of his suit off his shoulders.
Oscar obliges, his breath hitching as you peel the fabric away, revealing more of his muscular torso. The sleeves hang down from his waist, the tight fireproofs beneath barely able to contain the immense tension building inside him.
His muscles bulge with each movement, with each breath he takes, the strain and excitement of the day evident in every contour of his body. You can't help but admire him, your hands now tracing the lines of his arms, feeling the strength beneath his skin.
Oscar opens his eyes and looks at you, his gaze filled with desire and affection. "You're driving me crazy," he growls, his voice rough with need.
You smile with a playful glint in your eye. "Flex for me." You reply, your fingers continuing their journey across his entire upper body.
With a mischievous grin, Oscar obliges again, flexing his arms and chest, showcasing the impressive muscles that have been honed through countless hours of training. The sight makes your heart skip a beat; a rush of admiration and desire floods through you.
"Like what you see?" he teases, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
You bite your lip, trying to keep your composure as you let your hands roam over his flexed muscles. "You have no idea," you reply, your voice filled with genuine awe.
He chuckles, the sound low and rumbling from deep inside his chest. "I'm just glad you're here to see it."
One of your hands traces the contours of his biceps, feeling the power and strength beneath your fingers, while you let your other hand roam freely across his chest and even further down to his crotch.
You feel his hunger building up inside his pants; the fabric bulges just along his member tenting visibly. With two fingers, you trace the tangible outlines of his lust again and again, eliciting more and more deep growls from his throat.
Oscar is thoroughly enjoying himself, responding to your teasing with a mixture of laughter and passion. You see the gleam in his eyes, the way he savors every touch and caress.
Then, with a bold move, you slip one of your hands underneath his fireproofs, feeling the intense heat of his skin radiating against your palm.
Oscar's breath hitches at the sensation, his eyes so dark with desire. With a swift motion, he swipes the Mclaren cap from your head and lets it drop to the floor. A playful chuckle escapes his lips as he leans in, capturing your mouth in a deep, fervent kiss.
The kiss is electric, filled with a hunger that threatens to consume you both—the long separation and the yearning that built up between you. Your fingers splay across his warm skin, feeling the hard lines of his muscles beneath your fingertips.
Oscar's hands roam over your back again, pulling you closer, before he takes the lead, guiding you through the room and across a huge empty wall. Gently, your back meets the wall, steadying the two of you fully.
You feel the rhythm of his heartbeat, fast and powerful, matching your own. The world around you seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you locked in your passionate embrace.
His hands are now all over your chest, his touch both soft and possessive. Each caress sends waves of electricity through you, making your pulse race as far as his race car.
Oscar's kisses trail down your neck, leaving a warm, tingling sensation in their wake. His lips are gentle yet insistent, making a path that sets your skin on fire. The sensation is almost overwhelming—a perfect blend of tenderness and desire that makes your heart swell with emotion.
Amidst your intimate moment, you take in Oscar's familiar scent, a comforting aroma that envelopes you in a sense of security and belonging—a mixture of his cologne, mingled with the faint trace of adrenaline from the day's events, and the subtle hint of his natural scent.
Breathing him in, you feel a wave of warmth wash over you, and his scent is like a familiar embrace, making it even harder to concentrate.
Now, his hands slide underneath your hoodie, his fingertips dancing across your skin. You shiver at the sensation, your body responding instinctively to his touch. The contrast of his warm hands against the cool evening air heightens your senses, making every touch feel even more intense.
"You're amazing." Oscar breathes against your neck, his voice rough with emotion. "I need you."
Your breath hitches, your hands grip his shoulders for support as you tilt your head back, giving him better access. "Oscar," you whisper, your voice trembling with a mixture of desire and affection.
His hands roam freely now, exploring every inch of your torso with a reverent touch. You feel the strength and control in his fingers, the way he holds you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.
You arch into his touch, your own hands exploring the hard planes of his back, feeling the tension in his muscles. The fabric of his fireproofs is smooth and cool against your palms, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his body.
"Oscar." You murmur again, your voice barely audible as you revel in the sensations he is creating. "I need you, too."
He lifts his head, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that takes your breath away.
"I'm right here," he replies, his voice steady yet husky.
Licking your lips in anticipation, you let out a long, exhausted sigh. At the same time, you feel one of his hands make its way down your chest and right to your jeans. In one swift motion, he unbuttons it, just to make way for his hand to slip inside.
Your breath hitches right away as you feel his fingers tracing patterns in all the right places.
Even though it's hard to keep your composure, you manage to return the favor, letting one of your hands run down his back, along his spine, around his waist, and between his legs.
As you touch him, Oscar lets out a low, primal groan, the culmination of all the teasing and desire building up between them. His response sends a thrill through you, igniting a fire that burns hotter with each passing moment.
The tension is palpable; both of you are aching for a release, craving the other's touch.
Together, you help each other undress just enough to make it work. Panting and growling, he tugs at your jeans until they are sliding down to your ankles, so his hands stroke your thighs delicately.
Then, it's your turn to help him. Pulling at the suit clinging to his skin, the two of you manage to pull his length out of his pants, just for you to hold it and play with it.
Exhausted, Oscar leans in, kissing you passionately. You melt into him, offering yourself for what's to come next.
The moment he slides inside your body, it sparks a tingling sensation inside your stomach, and you let out a low grunt. Simultaneously, he moans right into your mouth, making it even harder to keep a straight face.
He is the first to take the lead again.
With your back against the wall, he begins to grind his hips against yours, rhythmically, sensually, and it is easy for you to catch up. The two of you move in sync with one another, letting out low growls, moans, and grunts.
Your hands wander all over his chest, stroking him through his firerpoofs. Oscar's breath comes in ragged gasps, his eyes dark with desire as he watches you.
The sensation of your touch through the fabric sends waves of heat through him, encouraging him to increase the pace and strength of his thrusts. In return, he steadies himself against the wall behind you while his other hand lingers on your breasts.
Your movements are slow and deliberate; you are fully aware of his most sensitive spots, and you encourage him more and more. Pinching his nipples, tracing the tangible outlines of his abs, and feeling his muscles bulge harder and hader.
Panting and moaning, Oscar's body grows stiff and rigid; unable to contain himself, he bites his lower lip before he grunts angrily.
"Fuck."
You revel in the power you have over him and the way he responds so intensely to your touch.
With each stroke, you feel him growing even more aroused, his body still tightening instinctively to your touch. His hands grip your breasts tighter, sending waves of pleasure through your entire body.
The two of you move as one; every thrust sends you closer and closer to the edge, and the way he grunts deeply tells you he feels the same.
As you lose yourself in the heat of the moment, you know there is no turning back. Your passion burns bright, consuming you both in a whirlwind of sensation and emotion.
With one final, heavy thrust, both of you let go of all that pressure and tension and scream out in ecstasy.
Several exhausted moans leave Oscar's lips, and he leans forward, grateful for the wall steadying him. At the same time, you lean your head back, moaning deeply.
You rest your head against his shoulder, swallowing hard. His body embraces yours right away; his firm shoulder is the perfect place right now.
Out of breath, the two of you barely regain your composure before you lock eyes again, both of you smiling contently.
"That was so good." He moans, exhausted, before he leans in, kissing you deeply.
"Oscar." You breathe into him, kissing him back.
After your passionate moment, you share another tender smile, your hearts still racing with the intensity of your connection.
With gentle touches and soft kisses, you help each other get dressed again, your movements slow and deliberate again.
As you adjust the sleeves of his fireproofs, you look up at Oscar, your eyes filled with affection. "You were amazing today," you say, your voice filled with pride. "I am so proud of you."
Oscar smiles back, his expression softening. "I am so glad you are here." He replies, his voice tinged with gratitude.
As he begins to change into fresh clothes, you watch him closely, unable to tear your eyes away.
Oscar moves with natural grace; every movement is fluid and confident. You can't help but admire the way his muscles shift beneath his skin as he removes his racing suit and tight firerpoofs.
He catches your gaze, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. Sensing your admiration, he makes a little show out of changing, exaggerating his movements slightly as he slips out of his fireproofs and into a fresh pair of underwear you hand him.
You laught at his antics, enjoining the playful side of him that he reserves just for you. As you pull on the pair of jeans and the Mclaren shirt, you feel a surge of affection for him, admiring the way he looks in the team gear.
"You look amazing." You say. "But then again, you always do."
Oscar grins, his eyes shining brightly. "I have to look my best, especially with you around." He replies, his tone teasing.
With a final adjustment to his shirt, Oscar turns to you, his expression softening. "Thank you for being here," he says, his voice sincere.
You reach out and place your hand on his chest again, gently stroking him once more. "I'll always be here for you." You reply. "No matter what."
#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri smut#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri x y/n#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 smut#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fic#formula 1 smut
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A Legacies Secret |1|
Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader
Summary: You just wanted a happy life with your girlfriend but then Ghostface attacks, revealing long thought to be buried family secrets.
Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Stabbing, Break in
Word Count: 3.3k+
Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist
Part 1
“Hey babe, what’s up?” you asked.
Tara smiled, even while at work you still managed to answer her calls. She could hear you moving around, the clanging of glasses and the sound of patrons on the other end of the phone. “I miss you,” Tara said. She hadn’t seen you all day and she was home alone and bored.
You chuckled. Tara couldn’t make out the words, you sounded far away but she could tell you were talking to a customer. “Sorry,” you said, coming back to the phone. “We saw each other yesterday.” Tara didn’t say anything, pouting as she grabbed a pot to make dinner. “But,” you sighed, but Tara knew you were smiling. “I missed you too.”
“You didn’t spend the night last night,” Tara pouted, even though you couldn’t see her she wanted to make you feel guilty. “I’m home all alone.”
“You’re always home alone.” Tara’s pout turned into a frown, she glared at you through the phone. “Besides I have an apartment, we could literally be alone together whenever you want.”
“Your apartment is tiny.”
Tara couldn’t help but smile, imagining the eye roll you’d surely give her. “Is that your way of saying when we get out of this hellhole, you’re not going to live with me?” Tara rolled her eyes; you always made everything so dramatic. “It’s fine. You’ll be going to college, living on campus, and I’ll be living in a shoebox all alone wherever you decide to go.”
“I’d love to live in a shoebox with you,” Tara giggled. “Sounds cozy.”
“Yeah?” you teased. “I thought my apartment was too small.”
“It is.” Your apartment truly was tiny. There was a living room, a kitchen, a bedroom, and a bathroom. It was tiny but it was all you. Tara knew it was the best you could do and still save money and since you were on your own it was actually incredible how well you were doing. She still loved giving you shit about your tiny apartment though. “But I like the idea of being in close quarters with you.”
It seemed you had taken the phone away from your ear again. Tara heard you mumbling and someone else, they had a deeper voice, she assumed it was your boss. “I have to go,” you sighed. “I’ve been informed this has counted as my break.”
Tara rolled her eyes; your boss could be an ass at times. “Tell them you’re dealing with an emergency. Your girlfriend is needy and wants your attention.”
You chuckled again. Tara bit her lip, she didn’t need to see you, just hearing your laugh was everything. “I’m not really sure he cares about that.”
“Ugh, fine.”
“I’ll come over after I get off.”
“I’ll wait up.”
“It’ll be late.”
“I’ll wait up,” Tara said again. She always tried to wait up for you. You worked at a bar and usually didn’t get off till well after midnight, almost early morning the next day at times. There were days you’d get off and come over and you’d be in bed for maybe an hour at most before Tara was getting up for school, those days you were always still in bed by the time she got home.
“Off the phone!” an angry voice came. They were clearly a good distance away, but Tara could hear them clear as day.
“Two seconds!” you screamed back. “I really have to go,” your voice went back to being soft, like it always was when you spoke to Tara. “I love you.”
“Love you too,” Tara smiled as she hung up. You’d been dating for almost two years and had said ‘I love you’ a long time ago but it never failed to make Tara blush.
Tara smiled to herself, swaying back and forth in the kitchen. You and her always casually talked about the future together. It wasn’t anything crazy, it wasn’t talks about marriage and getting a house together. It was simple, it was talking about moving in together once Tara graduated. It might seem rushed to most people, moving in together right after high school, especially since you were a few years older, but Tara was eighteen and she knew what she wanted.
Some of the people who thought she was crazy were her best friends, they didn’t have a problem saying it either. Tara didn’t listen to them though, you and her had a plan. Tara would graduate and once she heard back from the schools she applied to, she’d choose, hopefully she’d get into her number one choice, then the two of you would find a little place by campus and you’d work, she’d go to school, and she’d get to come home to you and wake up next to you every day.
Since she couldn’t talk to you, she decided to text Amber. She was bored and though she only needed to entertain herself for a few hours she didn’t want to do it alone. She would just have to make sure Amber didn’t spend the night. You and Amber didn’t get along to put it lightly. You basically hated each other but tolerated each other’s presence, to an extent, for Tara’s sake. Tara honestly wasn’t sure why you didn’t like each other. It was more Amber than you, you kind of just reciprocated her hatred. Amber was never fond of you though. Tara has tried to ask a few times what the deal was, and Amber only ever said she just didn’t think you were good enough.
Tara: Wanna come over? We can binge watch movies
Amber: Where’s the girlfriend?
Tara rolled her eyes. Amber always started off hostile when it came to you. Ever since Tara introduced you, even before the two of you started dating. Amber has always had attitude. Tara tried to avoid talking about you but in times like this it was hard when Amber was the one bringing you up for no reason.
Tara: Work
Amber: Glad to know I’m the second choice
Tara: Stop
Tara: Do you want to hangout or not?
Tara: I’ll make the popcorn
Amber: You can do better than that
The phone on the counter started to ring. Tara looked up from her phone, scrunching her eyebrows at the ringing. No one ever called the landline, if someone wanted to talk to her or her mom, they had their cell. Hell, Tara wasn’t even sure she knew the home phone number. She shook her head and went back to texting Amber.
Tara: You get first pick of the movie?
Amber: I got some homework to finish up
Tara rolled her eyes, of course Amber was going to be difficult. The landline continued to ring. Tara was doing her best to ignore it, whoever was calling seemed persistent though.
Tara: Open liquor cabinet
Amber: Sold!
Tara: Fucking landline won’t stop ringing
“Hello?” Tara answered the landline with an eyeroll, not being able to stand the ringing any longer and hoping to get rid of whoever was on the other end quickly.
“Hello, is Christina there?” A man asked.
Tara rolled her eyes again, of course it was someone asking for her mom. “No, she’s not available. May I take a message?”
“Oh, uhh, yeah, sorry,” he stumbled over his words. Tara didn’t pay him much mind as she got the footrest and made her way over to get the key to the liquor cabinet. “I’m a friend of hers from group. Shit,” he whispered, clearly not meaning to say that.
“From her shit?” Tara smiled to herself, suddenly much more interested in the conversation.
“Just tell her I’m from group, I’m Charlie, she’s got my number.”
“Oh, she goes to group?” Tara asked, not believing for a second her mom was going to any sort of group.
“I shouldn’t have-look can you just tell her Charlie called?”
“And I’ll do exactly that Charlie, once you tell me what kind of group we’re talking about. Is it AA? NA?”
“Well, you sound exactly like she described you.”
“She talks about me in group?” Tara couldn’t believe that either, that definitely didn’t sound like her mom.
“Look, I don’t think I can really talk about that.”
Tara sighed, pulling out her phone again. She needed to tell Amber about this. Amber knew exactly what her mom was like and there was no way she wouldn’t enjoy this.
Tara: Dude I think it’s my mom’s new BF
Amber: Seriously???
“What did she say about me?” there was an edge of hostility in her tone, she wanted to hear all about what her mother possibly said about her in this group.
“Well, she loves you very much.”
“Oh, what does she love about me?” Tara asked, her sarcasm coming back.
“She loves that you’re creative, you love art and TV and movies.”
“Okay, lots of people love movies,” she shook her head, dismissing him.
“But she said you love scary movies and that you guys have that in common. She’s proud at making a fan out of you.”
“She is?” Tara slowed her movements, she used to watch scary movies with her mom all the time, but she’d never heard her mom say she was proud of her for anything before.
“Yeah, she told me the other day she wonders, what’s your favorite scary movie?” Tara ignored the way the man’s voice changed, still focusing on the fact that her mom was apparently proud of her.
“Uhh, The Babadook, it’s an amazing meditation on motherhood and grief.”
“Isn’t that a little fancy pants?” the man asked with a chuckle.
“Well, it’s elevated horror.”
“What does that mean, elevated horror?”
“You know, it’s like scary but with complex emotional and thematic underpinning, it’s not just some schlocky cheeseball nonsense with wall-to-wall jump scares.”
The man hummed, not seeming very interested in her answer. “That seems kind of boring to me. Have you ever seen Stab?” his tone changed again when he asked her the question, but once again Tara didn’t think much of it.
“Once, I think, at a sleepover, when I was like twelve.”
The man laughed at that. “You live in Woodsboro, and you don’t know Stab? Well, your mother loves that movie, she talks about it all the time in group. How well do you remember the original?”
“I don’t know, and it was like super 90s, it was really over lit, and everyone had weird hair.”
“Do you remember the beginning?”
“Not really, I mean it started with a kill scene, right? They always started with a kill scene.”
“Yeah, that’s right. That’s right,” he tone shifted again. “It’s a girl at home alone, she answers the wrong number and starts talking with the killer who makes her play a game.” Tara slowed her movements again, thinking the conversation was treading into weird territory. “Would you like to play a game, Tara?” he whispered her name. A chill went down her spine and she quickly hung up, not bothering to answer him.
Tara tossed the phone on the counter, watching it as if it would ring again. Her eyes darted around the house, looking for anything that shouldn’t be there. She pulled out her phone and locked all the doors, arming the alarm. She knew it was Woodsboro and someone always liked to make prank calls, especially around this time of year but she wasn’t taking her chances. Tara looked out the window, not seeing anyone creeping around her yard as she closed the curtains.
Tara checked the time on her phone. Only several minutes had passed since she had talked to you. She still had a few hours before you’d get off and get to the house. Her thumb hovered over your contact, wanting nothing more than to hear your voice. Tara knew she was just being paranoid, but she just wanted your comfort, you’d calm her down within seconds. She didn’t want to bother you though, she knew you were at work, you were busy, and you’d already been yelled at for just talking to her.
She left your contact and went to text Amber. She just needed to be talking to someone. It was clearly a stupid prank, but she just wanted someone to help keep her sane otherwise her imagination would drive her crazy.
Tara: It was some psycho. I’m locking the doors.
Amber: WTF??? You okay?
Tara started to type out she was fine and just a little jumpy. She knew it was probably a prank but that didn’t mean it wasn’t freaking her out. Before she could finish typing her text though the phone started ringing again, making her jump.
Amber: You should answer it.
Tara scrunched her eyebrows looking at Ambers text, she slowly lifted her eyes to look at the ringing phone again, then back down at her cell. Her thumb hesitated over the letters as she typed out her message.
Tara: How did you know my landline was ringing?
Tara: Amber?
Amber: This isn’t Amber
Amber: ANSWER THE PHONE BITCH
Tara moved to call the police; she had nine dialed, tears slowly began to fill her eyes, when another message appeared.
Amber: ANSWER THE PHONE OR AMBER DIES
Tara ran back to the counter, picking up the phone. “This isn’t fucking funny Amber,” she said but couldn’t keep the fear out of her voice.
“I told you, this isn’t Amber,” the same voice as before said, this time sounding much more sinister. Just then a video was sent to Tara, when she opened it, she saw footage of Amber, sitting in her room and brushing her hair. “Amber’s looking particularly fetching tonight. She really shouldn’t leave her phone lying around for anyone to clone.”
“What do you want?”
“I told you, I want to play a game,” he talked to her as if she was a child. “Stab movie trivia, three rounds, you call the cops, she dies, you get a question wrong, she dies, her parents aren’t home, I can be in that room in fifteen seconds. You want a warm-up question?”
“I told you, I don’t know these movies,” came out in a whine, tears already getting ready to fall. “I don’t! Ask me about something I do know,” she tried to bargain. “Ask me about It Follows, ask me about Hereditary, ask me about The Witch.”
“In the first Stab movie,” he continued, completely ignoring Tara’s pleas. “What Woodsboro native was introduced as the franchise’s main character?”
“It’s Sidney Prescott! It’s Sidney Prescott and she lived on Elm.”
“Correct. You see, you’re gonna do great at this. Okay, question one.”
“Nonono, I got that one right, it should count.”
“Anyone could have gotten that one right, Sidney’s in every movie but the last one. Question one, who wrote the original book the Stab movies are based on?”
“The chick from TV,” Tara struggled to remember her name. She had never read any of the books and she certainly didn’t watch the morning show the lady did.
“The chick from TV is not going to cut it Tara,” they let out a disappointed sigh.
“Oh! Gale Weathers! It’s Gale Weathers you motherfucker.”
“Correct. Amber might live to see the sunrise. Question two, who played the dumb bitch at the beginning of Stab one who answers the phone and gets carved up by the killer?”
“Fuck you.”
“Is that the answer you’re going with?” Tara quickly typed on her phone, going to IMDB and looking at the cast for Stab. “A non-answer counts as a wrong answer Tara. Time’s running out.” He continuously repeated the words tick tock, getting faster and faster as the seconds passed, making Tara more anxious and scroll faster.
“Maybe I made a mistake,” he continued, causing Tara to halt her scrolling for a second. “Maybe Amber isn’t enough motivation.” Tara let out a shaky breath, preparing herself for his next words. “Maybe I should have gone after your little girlfriend,” he spit out, not able to hide is clear hatred. “It’d be much easier, I mean it’s late, there’s no one around. No one would even hear her scream.”
“She has nothing to do with this!” Tara screamed, sobbing into the phone. She couldn’t get the image out of her head of you leaving the bar and getting jumped by Ghostface, getting stabbed and left to bleed out in the street with no one to help.
“She has everything to do with this,” the voice snapped. Tara didn’t even have time to process the clearly emotional outburst. “Tick tock Tara,” they snapped again. “Or should I just kill both? I’m sure I can gut Amber and then make it to-”
“Heather Graham!” Tara screamed finally finding the name, cutting the killer off before he could threaten you again.
“Correct,” he said, going right back to his calmer demeanor. “You pulled that one out, now for the final question, who was the killer in Stab one?”
“Oh, I know this one you fuck,” Tara gasped, realizing she knew the answer. “It’s Billy Loomis! It’s Billy Loomis and he was Sidney’s boyfriend, and he was played by Luke Wilson, and I got you asshole,” Tara couldn’t help but chuckle, relieved at getting the answer right. “I got it! I got it right!”
“Oh, I’m sorry Tara,” he almost sounded sympathetic. “But that’s just not correct.”
“What?” Tara whispered, confused, and not believing what she was hearing. “No no no no it is, that is right.”
"The correct answer is Billy Loomis and Stu Macher, there are two killers in the original Stab. I’m afraid someone’s gotta die now.”
“Nono, Amber I’m coming!” she shouts as she sets down the phone and grabs a kitchen knife, running for her front door.
When Tara threw open her door, she was met with the sight of Ghostface who quickly slashed their knife across her left side. Tara punched them in the face and slammed the door. She fought against Ghostface as he tried to shove his way in but eventually, she got the door shut, quickly locking it.
Tara pulled out her phone again, arming the system again and hitting the button to alert the authorities. She picked up her knife, slowly backing up down the hallway as she heard Ghostface relentlessly banging on the door trying to get in when suddenly the banging stopped. Tara’s heart dropped when she heard the alarm system say it was disarmed, Ghostface had access to her system somehow. Tara quickly armed it again, but Ghostface was ready, disarming it once again. They went back and forth arming and disarming the alarm system until it finally landed on armed.
Tara stood at the end of the hallway gasping for breath as she continued to sob. The landline rang again, startling her and making her swing the knife. She held the wall, sobbing as she made her way back to the landline.
“Hello?” Tara said, her words shaky as she stood in the middle of the kitchen, keeping the hand holding the knife raised.
“Bonus question Tara,” Ghostface whispered.
“Please stop,” she begged.
“Do you think I made it inside your house before you could re-arm?”
Just as Tara’s eyes widened with the realization, Ghostface came out from behind her, stabbing her in the stomach. Tara let out a scream of pain. When Ghostface pushed her into the kitchen island she turned around, smacking him across the head before he could stab her again.
Ghostface grabbed her by the head and shoved her to the floor. Tara rolled over, kicking Ghostface in the stomach. Ghostface brought down their boot, snapping Tara’s leg. Tara rolled over, sobbing from the pain.
Ghostface brought down his knife towards her face, but she reached up, causing the knife to go through her left hand. Tara screamed, holding Ghostface’s arm up as he continued to try and push the knife towards her face despite it still being in her hand. He finally pulled the knife out and Tara kicked him, making him lose his balance and crash to the floor.
Unable to walk, Tara crawled her way to the front door, screaming for help. Just as Tara reached the door and she could hear the police sirens, Ghostface yanked her back, stabbing her in the side several more times.
“Nononononono,” Tara screamed as Ghostface brought his knife down onto her again.
#tara carpenter#tara carpenter x reader#tara carpenter x you#tara carpenter x fem!reader#tara carpenter imagine#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega#scream#scream 5#scream v#a legacies secret
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rafe taking you golfing and you hit it really well....just him proud and teaching you stuff !! obviously you suck at it so he has to kind and if anyone laughs at you .... he's gonna pull out a *wack* *wack* *wack* #popewasdonesodirty
golfing lessons
pairings: bf!rafe cameron x kookprincess!reader
summary: golf lessons with rafe and his friends, and when a certain group of pogues come around. he isn't happy.
warnings: fluff. violence. catcalling (?). rafe hitting jj with a golfclub.
a/n: thank you so much for the request, this is not that good because im new to writing and english is NOT my first language. PLEASE tell me if theres any grammar errors. enjoy reading <3
finally after three weeks of rafes begging for you to come golfing with him, you caved in. so there you were sitting in rafes private golf caddy, wearing your new golf clothes. watching him, topper and kelce play. you admired how is biceps flexed when he swung the golfclub, and how he smiled at you after.
"baby, cmere and play with us." rafe called out to you. you look up from your phone, hopping out of the caddy and walking over too rafe. "ive never played golf rafey, you know this!" you rambled nervously. "could you teach me?" you told him, looking up at him with a nervous smile. "of course, love" he told you, giving you a kiss and taking place behind you. he put the golfclub in your hands, teaching you how to properly hold it. kicking your feet apart and showing you the right position to stand in. "thats it baby, now lift your arm and hit the ball. okay?"
you did exactly what he told you, and too the groups surprise. you hit it perfectly, looking at the golf ball thats now on the other side of the field. "did i do good?" you asked. "better then i did the first time i played" kelce replied with a shrug. "you did amazing, sweetheart." rafe tells you and then plants a kiss to the side of your head.
you took a couple more swings, but then you heard a particular voice shouting from the distance. "looking good over there, princess." you wipped your head around, seeing no other then jj. he had two grocery bags in his hand, next to him was standing pope. "cut it out, jj." pope told jj, looking nervously at rafe standing next to you with a unreadable expression. "what did you say?" rafe shouted back. "give me that, baby." he told you and pointed at the golfclub. you hesitantly gave him the golfclub, waiting for what to come next. "im telling your girl that she looks nice, you have a problem with that?" jj told rafe.
rafe clenches his jaw, and walks over to the two pogues standing there. topper and kelce quickly following. "arent you guys on the wrong fucking side of the island, this is figure eight." topper states, with disgust on his face. "if you ever talk to her again, im going to kill you. you got that? you got that, jj? rafe says to jj. "i mean, no offence man. maybe you'll let me hit sometime?" jj says with a laugh.
It happens in a blink of an eye, rafe shoves jj to the ground. and starts hitting him with the golfclub. pope tries to shove rafe off jj, but it didnt work. topper launches at pope, getting a couple hits in. at the end of the fight, the two pogues leave with black eyes and bloody noses. "we dont want you here man, stay off figure eight." rafe shouts.
"are you alright, baby?" rafe asks you., with concern. "yeah.. are you?" you say while looking for any bruises or cuts on him. "are you boys alright?" you ask topper and kelce. "yeah, were okay.. i think." toppers tells you.
“can we go home now?” you whine.
let’s say after you dropped kelce and topper off, rafe took his anger out in another way.. if yk what i mean. ;)
#@lizardwrites ✧.*#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe imagine#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron soft
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would you be able to write something based of Kristie's tiktok with her and sam where sam comes in and shows off the ring but r is kristie?
6ft 5 - Sam Kerr
Sam Kerr x lionesses!reader
summary - you're filming a tiktok video and Sam wants everyone to know your hers
You set up the phone on the bathroom sink, adjusting the dress you were wearing before crouching down to press play. When the sound plays you lip sync to it applying some lip gloss at the same time.
'I'm looking for a guy in finance,' You begin standing up straight and moving around slightly 'trust fund, 6-' Your cut off by the door opening and your fiancée Sam comes in from behind you. She must've heard the sound as she gives you a slight nudge to get you out of her way as she walks up to the camera and shows off her engagement ring.
You laugh at her actions continuing to lip sync to the sound but you can hardly say anything as your laughing to much. When the video ends you grab your phone watching it replay still giggling at Sam's actions.
'Wow baby,' you say feeling Sam's arms wrap around your waist as she stands on her tiptoes to place her head on your shoulder looking at the video 'you really had to show off that ring.' You laugh.
'Had to show everyone who you really belong to.' She whispers into your ear making you shiver. 'Not some silly 6'5 guy with a trust fund.' She states pulling away from you and walking into the kitchen. You follow behind her eyes still glued to your phone as you post the video captioning it with a simple 'let's be honest' knowing the fans would love the rare Sam content. Once finished you turn your attention back to Sam.
'I mean your definitely not 6'5, more like 4'5' You give your fiancée a cheeky grin, her being much shorter than you was something you always made sure to tease her about.
'Shut up, I'm only a couple inches shorter than you, not my fault your whole family is giants' She groans leaning into your side. You stroke her head jokingly.
'It's ok I love you no matter your height.' You tease her placing a light kiss on her forehead.
'I think it's time to go, we've got a booking for 6 and the ubers almost here.' Sam tells you, and you can tell she is sick of the topic of her height. You agree following her out of your apartment to outside, waiting for your ride.
lt was nice to be back with Sam, neither of you had really liked the long distance relationship when you had played for Barca and she was here in England, it meant you hardly got to see each other except for the shortest of breaks you had. Your move to Arsenal had come as a surprise, all the fans had expected you to sign a contract extension with the team you had so much success with but you didn't care you'd do anything to be with Sam. Especially after she had proposed and your wedding was coming up.
For the first time in a while you had time just the two of you, as she had sustained and ACL injury and you had fractured you're foot. Both of your international teams were off on camp meaning you had a well earned break together.
The uber arrived and you both got in the back. You checked the video you'd just posted seeing it had already gone viral everyone commenting different versions of the lyrics that more fit Sam's personality, you found a few funny ones and read them to Sam as she didn't have tiktok. 'babe.' you say grabbing the Aussies attention.
'mhm.'
'These are some of the comments the fans wrote from the video.' You tell her and watch as her face slightly pales.
'I don't know whether to be scared or not.' She says causing you to laugh as you chose some of your favourites.
'one of them said looking for a masc in football, 5'5, trust fund,' you laugh at how short they thought Sam was, knowing that would not make her happy. 'oh this ones even better i'm looking for a girl in football, Chelsea, 5'4 brown eyes.' You watch Sam tense up.
'These people clearly know nothing about football, if they were true fans they'd know I'm actually 5'7.' She says grumpily and you crack, laughing so hard that tears threaten to fall.
'Chill Sammy, its just height nothing to be so defensive about.' You tell her. She sighs and you give her a side hug, she buries her face in the crook of your neck placing soft kisses everywhere, mood completely changing from before.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
After a nice dinner out with Sam, you decide to drop a photo dump form your night, making sure to include the video from earlier. Making sure to tease her more.
yourinstagram just posted
liked by keirawalsh, hayleyraso and 76,540 others
yourinstagram fun night with my little shorty 🫶🏽 @samanthakerr20
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samanthakerr20 I am 5’7 for every smart ass about to comment x 😘
user1 y/n is definitely making fun of her
katrinagorry midget
samanthakerr20 shut up
user70 Looking for a girl in soccer. Sam Kerr. Captain. Backflips.
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#samkerr#matildas#lionesses#sam kerr#sam kerr x reader#woso#woso one shot#woso imagine#matildas x reader#woso community#woso x reader#woso fanfics
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Kinda Tempting
Genre: a big mixed bag of all the things
Word count: 4.4k
Featuring: Mat Barzal x female reader x Matthew Rempe
Warnings: cheating, secret relationship
Summary: you recently left your position as the media manager for the Islanders behind, along with your boyfriend Mat Barzal, for a position with the Rangers. And their new rookie Matthew Rempe causes quite the stir both on the ice and off
Author’s note: I rewrote this like 4 times…hopefully it’s good. This will be a little series, so things should pick up. I feel like establishing background and stuff is always hard. Hopefully you all like this? And I’m sorry I literally picked two guys named Matt, could I have made that any harder on me and you lol
If someone told you that you’d be working in the NHL while also dating one of the hottest stars in the league, both in skill and looks, you would’ve never believed them. But here you were. The head of the media team department for one of the biggest teams in sports, and also the girlfriend of none other than Mat Barzal.
The two of you met during your first season leading the media department for the New York Islanders, and you made it your mission to get him to not hate doing the stupid challenge videos and dumb quizzes that every team made their players do. And by the end of that season he’d become a pro, eventually fessing up that he only enjoyed seeing you pop up with your iphone because he knew it meant an excuse to see you.
Now it certainly wasn’t a walk in the park getting the stamp of approval from the organization, but Mat reassured you he wouldn’t let you get fired over it. And they eventually came around to the idea, only for you to get a job offer from their rival New York Rangers 2 seasons later. Despite the move from Elmont to NYC only making your distance roughly 2 hours depending on the day, it had proven to be difficult on the two of you. Your schedules never the same, not even enough for phone calls or facetimes. Sometimes going months without seeing one another.
Thoughts plaguing your mind on whether or not he still loved you, if he’d been seeing other girls behind your back. When you look as good as Mat Barzal it’s hard to imagine him not having tons of girls throwing themselves at him. You didn’t want to think of the worst, but you saw how other guys in the league made things work with their girlfriends, so why couldn’t he do the same with you.
Luckily today was the stadium series game between the New York Islanders and the Rangers, meaning an opportunity to finally get to see your boyfriend after almost two months. And to say it was a big game was an understatement, you just hoped Mat would actually make time to see you, and reassure you that things were good between the two of you.
You arrived to MetLife stadium a few hours early, the media grind keeping you on almost the same schedule as the players. Your first assignment of the day was documenting the debut of Rangers rookie Matthew Rempe, though looking at this guy you’d never guess he was a rookie. He’s 6 foot 8, literally towering over every guy on the ice, and probably off of it too.
After he finished up a few interviews, you saw him making his way past the crowd of reporters, looking a bit lost as he scanned the faces around. You assumed looking for you since he’d be told ahead of time he had media content to film today.
“You must be Matthew Rempe.” You walked up to greet him and he smiled down at you, “How’d you know?” Eyeing him up and down you rolled your eyes as if he was someone easy to miss or not notice. “Let’s see, all the headlines talking about a 6 foot rookie debuting for the Rangers, I’d say that was the giveaway.” The two of you laughed as you started down the hall, walking towards the Rangers tunnel that led to the ice. “I’m sorry I didn’t even introduce myself, my name is y/n. I’m the media manager for the Rangers, and unfortunately for you, you’re gonna be seeing a lot of me this season.”
The rookie simply smiling down at you as you two walked together, “something tells me I might be okay with that.” Fighting the blush that threatened to grace your cheeks, you continued on explaining what it is he’d be filming. He listed to you explain things somewhat, but then he sort of zoned out. Paying too much attention to your smile when you laughed, the excitement in your voice when you talked about your job. Not to mention he was taken aback at how beautiful you were. Your hair failing perfectly over your shoulders beneath your Rangers beanie. He was captivated by you, but tried to keep his cool.
“Okay, so we are gonna do just a little introduction. Whatever you feel like saying, introduce yourself, tell us where we are, all that fun stuff.” Rempe quickly snapping back to reality, stopping at where the tunnel began to open up to reveal the stadium. He simply followed your lead, waiting as you took out your phone and cued him to start whenever he was ready.
“Hey Rangers fans, it’s Matt Rempe here. Getting ready to make my debut at the Stadium Series here at MetLife. It’s time to bang some bodies and bring home a win!” He pumped his fists as he emphasized his final words for the camera, you signaling that was a great take. Next, moving over to the bench to do a couple sit down questions.
“Perfect, you are really a natural Matthew. I’m impressed! It took some of the other guys years to get comfortable with doing all the media stuff.” He smiled as he stood up, once again towering over you. “Well you made it really easy, made me feel comfortable and all the nerves went out the window.”
“Well good! I’m gonna go edit this now and we will probably have it posted within an hour, just in case you wanted to see it.” “Oh perfect,” Matthew began reaching into his pocket before pulling out his phone, “can you text me once it’s up?” You took his phone, not thinking anything of it, you had plenty of his teammates phone numbers. It becoming a thing for guys to want to send embarrassing clips of each other for their group chats. “Sure thing, there you go! Shoot me a text so I have your number and I’ll get you the link as soon as it’s up.”
You smiled as the two of you headed up the tunnel, some of the islanders players making their way out to see the ice. The second you saw your boyfriend’s face walking toward you, all of your professional game day demeanor went out the window and you took off running.
As you took off up the tunnel, Matthew was a bit confused, not realizing what was going on, he continued walking as his eyes followed you. Soon seeing you jump into the arms of Mat Barzal from the Islanders. His heart sunk a bit, of course she’s not single, he sighed to himself as he pulled out his phone. Trying to not seem so awkward when he walked past the two of you kissing. Flashing a smile when you mentioned that you’d text him after you finished editing the things you two just filmed.
Why was he so shocked to see a beautiful girl like you dating someone? Maybe it was shocking that you were dating one of the top guys in the league, who also happens to be on one of the Rangers rival teams. He’d felt a bit foolish for thinking that a girl like you would not only be single, but ever give him, a rookie, the time of day like that. Heading into the locker room, he threw on his headphones and started to get zoned in for the game.
It had been about a month since you’d seen Mat, and you couldn’t contain your excitement. He smiled at you as he braced for your hug, cutting it short before giving you a quick kiss. “Mat, come on, it’s been almost two months. Aren’t you happy to see me?” He nodded to his teammates to walk without him as he stayed back, “yeah of course I am, but I’m also trying to get focused. I’m sorry I’m not jumping up and down like you.” His laugh caught you off guard, as almost if he was making fun of how excited you were to see him.
“Sorry for being happy to see my boyfriend. Well go get focused, I don’t wanna be a distraction to you” Dropping his hands you’d pushed past him, doing your best to hide any emotions you had and ignore the feeling of just wanting to cry.
“Y/n, babe come on don’t be like that!”
Mat stood in the tunnel yelling after you, but he didn’t bother to chase you. Knowing it wasn’t the time or place, though when was the time and place for you two anymore?
Finding a warm area tucked away at the stadium, you took out your laptop and started editing, anything you could do to get your mind off of Mat and how annoyed you were. .
Beginning to edit the footage you took of Matthew, a smile crept across your face. Everything about Rempe was infectious. His thick Canadian accent as he spoke made you laugh. The little phrases and things he’d say when he got excited about the game and this opportunity. Pulling out your phone, you shot him a text, not sure if he’d respond since he was probably getting warmed up.
“Soooo, when is it considered too early to make Matthew Rempe, let’s bang some bodies merch? Lol”
Sitting in his stall, Matthew heard a quick ding over his music, slightly cursing at himself for not turning his phone on do not disturb. He had been getting tons of texts from friends and family about his debut, and while he appreciated it, they were distracting for sure. He went to simply swipe the text away, figuring he’d respond later. But he stopped as he saw your name displayed on the screen.
He chuckled to himself at the text, typing out a quick reply before heading off to stretch with some of the guys.
“Ehhh, not sure how entirely appropriate the merch would be. People who weren’t in on it may think it’s like a sex joke or something.”
Finally seeing a reply from Matthew you laughed out loud, quickly typing a reply before you put the finishing touches on your social media post.
“Oh lord I can see the headline now, Rangers merch sales at an all time high after rookie proudly endorses banging bodies.”
As soon as you got your content edited and posted, you shut your laptop and got everything packed back into your bag. Deciding you were in desperate need of caffeine if you were somehow gonna make it to game time. The Rangers kept a stash of energy drinks in their locker room, half the time you swore just for you because you never saw the guys drink them.
“Oh no, here she comes! She’s gonna ask us to do a tik tok!” Vinny Trochek calling out to the guys playing soccer and they all pretended to scatter. Being the media girl the loved giving you a hard time, but you knew it came with the territory. “Very funny Vinny, just wait until you see the embarrassing shit I’ve got of you ready to post!”
Trochek making a face at you as you popped in the locker room to grab your drink.
buzz buzz
“You know, if you were sneaking in the locker room to try and catch a glimpse of me shirtless or something, you could’ve just asked ;)”
Practically choking on your Celsius you wiped your mouth as you stared at the text you receive from Matthew. He truly was something else, his flirting not at all subtle. Though you didn’t mind, he was a ten for sure. Though you knew he probably was a player and had girls drooling over him.
But after the not so warm greeting from your boyfriend, you welcomed a little flirting.
Exiting the locker room you locked eyes with Matthew giving you a shit eating grin as you tried to hide the blush on your cheeks. He smiled to himself as he bit his tongue, turning his attention back to the guys as they finished up their game of soccer.
The final horn sounded, ending one of the most exciting games you’ve seen in awhile. The Rangers somehow pulled out the win, coming back from down 3 goals to take the game in overtime. Rempe got his first fight in his NHL debut, and the media content you got from this game was endless. The thought of all the editing you’d have to do tonight buried in the back of your mind as you focused on trying to find something to eat in the catering area near the locker room. Lucky for you, some of the guys were always kind enough to set food aside for you, knowing you rarely ate when working the games. Not even by choice, but simply because you were responsible for catching anything and everything on camera and posting in real time.
You munched on some french fries as you scrolled through the comments on your post of Rempe’s debut, laughing at all the girls drooling over him through their screens. Continuing your scroll you hardly noticed the scratched up knuckles reaching in to steal a fry. “Matthew Rempe how dare you!”
He shot you a cocky grin as he tossed the fry in his mouth, “Sorry, I had to, you were asking for it.” Rolling your eyes you finished off the fries, then reaching for your bag only to be stopped by Matthew. “Here, as an apology for stealing a fry, let me carry this for you. It’s the least I can do.” Smiling softly you obliged, letting him hold the bag as the two of you headed towards the parking garage.
“Oh, nice fight by the way. Didn’t feel like wasting much time huh?” He smiled proud as he shrugged, “Better to get it over with early, gets the nerves out you know?”
As you approached your car, he pulled your bag from his shoulder. “Not seeing the boyfriend or anything?” Checking your phone, you’d never heard back from Mat whether or not he’d want to see you tonight. “Probably not, I’ve got a lot of editing to do and…” your voice trailed off as you tried to make up a believable excuse as to why your boyfriend couldn’t see you. To which Matthew saw right through, “I couldn’t help but notice the two of you earlier, trouble in paradise?”
Letting out a huff you tossed your bag into your passenger seat as you laughed, “how much time you got Rempe?” An apologetic smile crept across his face as he saw you holding in a lot. He wanted to just hug you, let you cry if you needed to. He’d only just met you a few hours ago yet he felt like he was meant to. Like you needed him to come into your life and somehow make it better. “Well, my family is in town and I definitely have to see them. We are grabbing dinner. But, I can certainly make time later tonight?” Nodding your head you walked over to the drivers side of your car, Matthew offering a quick hug to you, sensing you needed it. Which you did, very much so. He closed the car door before leaning down and resting his arms on the frame as you started it up. “I’ll text you when I’m done with my family? Pinky promise.” He held out his pinky which was quadruple the size of yours, making you chuckle as you wrapped yours around it. “Don’t make me sit around my phone waiting for a text you don’t plan on sending Matthew Rempe.”
He laughed as he walked away from your car, “you kidding? I’ve already got our conversation pinned in my messages!” Shaking your head you rolled up the window, pulling out of the garage and heading out on the traffic filled road for your drive home.
As much as you loved your job, sitting on your couch and staring at the same repetitive clips of the Rangers for hours while editing really got old fast. Trying to fight your exhaustion you closed your laptop, pulling out your phone to try giving Mat a call. He texted you after the game, a half hearted apology that truly did nothing more than make you roll your eyes.
Hey it’s Mat, I can’t come to the phone right now, leave me a message.
Typical Mat, phone on do not disturb after a loss, and you probably won’t hear from him until later or even tomorrow if he’s really in a mood. It had unfortunately become the norm, and while you hated it, you couldn’t say much about it. You did sign up for this somewhat when decided to date a NHL player, and one who happens to be one of the top names in the league. He bears a lot of weight on his shoulders from his franchise, and it’s been taking a toll on him for the last year or so. Spilling over to affect your relationship, though he won’t agree. He thinks things are as good as they’ve ever been. Despite the two of you barely speaking, rarely ever seeing one another now, and we won’t even talk about the lack of anything remotely sexual. Not even the occasional nude could get Mat going, so you’d stopped trying to change him. Accepting that maybe this was who he was now, but never building up the courage to just walk away.
The buzzing of your phone in your lap snapping you from your sad thoughts, as a smile now appeared on your face after seeing Matthew’s name pop up on your screen. “Thank you for calling y/n’s phone, how can I help you?” Matthew chuckled on the other end of the call, “I am really hoping that y/n is available and still wants to talk to me after the long day she had? I might even have dessert that I am sure she’d love right about now.”
“You want to come over?” Your tone sounding a bit more harsh than you intended, just a bit shocked that he was offering to stop by versus just talk on the phone or text. “Oh, um, I don’t know. You seemed a bit down earlier, and I just felt like you could use some cheering up. Plus you said it yourself, I’m gonna have to get used to spending time with you so might as well get a head start.”
Before he could finish his sentence you’d texted him your address, telling yourself to say fuck it and have him come over. You refused to sit and sulk over your boyfriend any more than you already had.
“Sweet, I’m only like 15 minutes away. Me and the cake will be there soon!” You cackled into the phone as Matthew quickly regretted his words, “I meant like the dessert, not my ass or anything. Oh god! Look I’ll be there soon okay?”
Embarrassed, he hung up while you continued your laughter. Packing up your computer and cleaning up your place a bit, not sure where your sudden nerves were coming from. It’s not like Matthew would be expecting a five star mansion to be hiding within your small NYC apartment. And before you could double check the clothes you’d thrown on the second you got home, a knock came at your door. The last thing you expected when opening it was Matthew to now be in gray sweatpants and a hoodie, his hair still somewhat damp from his postgame shower, looking even better than you’d remembered. To put in plainly, he looked hot.
“I hope you like vanilla cake with chocolate frosting!”
He beamed as he carried the cake inside, setting it on your kitchen island then taking in the apartment. Nodding in approval as you went to grab two glasses, offering water which Matthew kindly accepted.
“So,” he started as he took a seat on your sofa, “cake first or did you want to tell me your life story to get that over with?” Grabbing the box of cake along with two forks, you took a seat next to Matthew before handing him the extra utensil.
“How about both?”
“Okay so, why don’t you just breakup with him? I mean, I know that’s easier said than done, but you don’t seem very happy.” Playing with the hem of your sweatshirt as you finished telling Matthew the gist of your love story with Mat, and his reactions were all what you’d expected. “I don’t know, I mean, I love him. It’s not easy to break up with someone you love. And I keep telling myself it’ll get better.”
“When? Once he wins a Stanley Cup and finally eases up a bit from his Mr. Perfect persona and attitude? How long is that gonna take?”
He had a point, you truly had no clue when Mat would change and start being like himself again. You missed the karaoke nights with him and your friends, movie nights at your place, dinner dates, even just sleeping in the same bed as him. You missed him, but something tells you he didn’t miss you.
“Look, I’m not trying to be an asshole. Hell, I just met you like 10 hours ago yet somehow I am in your apartment sharing cake and talking to you about your relationship troubles. I don’t know how we ended up here but I’m not mad at it.” A smile crept on your lips for the first time in the past thirty minutes as Matthew rested his hand on your thigh. “All I’m saying is, if you were my girlfriend, I would’ve sprinted down that tunnel today to hug you and kiss you. I would’ve come to see you after the game no matter if my team won the game or lost by twelve goals. You’re beautiful, funny, super fucking talented at your job, and from the few hours I’ve been around you, I can see how amazing you are.”
You hadn’t noticed yourself tearing up until Matthew reached out to wipe your cheek. “I’m not trying to make you cry, now I feel bad. Should I make you laugh?” He pouted his lips at you, doing his best to earn a smile.
“Like being so for real, if I was your boyfriend and I got to see you today after like a month, we would’ve had to go somewhere private at that stadium cause there’s no way I’m not getting my hands all over you the second I see you.”
Shaking your head you grabbed the forks and cake box from the table, walking them all to the kitchen as Matthew laughed at his words, though not denying them. “Well, as amazing as that sounds, I couldn’t even tell you the last time Mat did any of that.”
Matthew practically choked on his water as you rinsed off the forks, “what?”, then putting them aside to dry. “Don’t tell me you haven’t even been having sex with him, he’s your boyfriend y/n! Like…is he gay?”
“Matthew Rempe!”
“I mean, I don’t know,” he shrugged as he joined you in the kitchen, “I’m trying to wrap my brain around how a guy could be dating a girl like you, and not be even having sex with her. Like I get the not seeing each other as much because of being in two different cities, the limited phone calls and stuff, but going months and months without sex!? I’m not trying to cause a stir in your relationship or come across disrespectful, but I would one hundred percent not be able to go a month without getting my hands on you and- actually, let me stop myself before I say some things I shouldn’t.”
Your jaw practically on the floor as he retreated, quickly sipping his water so he didn’t have to speak. “No, actually I think you should continue. I’m kinda tempted to hear this.” You leaned back against the counter as you crossed your arms in front of your chest, a smirk on your face as you could sense Matthew’s nervousness with you getting closer to him. He eyes you up and down from behind his glass before that signature cocky grin crept across his face. His hands now on either side of your waist as he looked down at you.
Everything in you was telling you to stop, to not let your interaction with Mat lead you to do anything you’d regret. But hell you’ve been in this cycle for months. Constantly waiting for the day your boyfriend starts acting like your boyfriend again. And you were also a woman with needs. If a 6 foot hot man in your kitchen wants to gas you up and show you what you’ve been missing, how are you to say no to that?
“Well for starters, I’ve been trying my best to not stare at your ass with these little shorts you’ve got on. Not to mention keeping my hands off your legs, which I can’t believe you were hiding underneath your jeans all day cause wow.” To say you were enjoying his compliments was an understatement.
“Anything else?”
His fingers now brushing your hair back from your face as he could see your breath catch in your chest, you were nervous. He could see it on your face, your heart telling you that it wasn’t a good idea. But your body language telling him that you’d been missing this.
“I didn’t come over to do this, or fuck up your relationship. I promise you that. And if you want me to stop, I’ll respect that.” His hand cupped your cheek as he waited for your sign to stop, but nothing came.
“I don’t think anything you do right now could fuck up my relationship any more than it already is.” You smirked as his lips finally pressed to yours, the butterflies in your stomach bursting as you brought your hands to his hair, deepening the kiss as he picked you up, your legs naturally wrapping around his waist.
A laugh escaped your lips as you saw how high you were off the ground in his arms, joking that he could help you be able to clean the top of your fridge from up there. Matthew shaking his head as he brought your lips back to his. Only to be interrupted by your phone buzzing on the counter.
“Oh shit, boyfriend’s calling.”
You rolled your eyes as Matthew handed the phone to you, only to silence the call and toss your phone back onto the island.
“Guess I’m a little busy right now.”
#matt rempe#matt rempe blurb#matt rempe fic#matt rempe imagine#nhl fanfiction#nhl imagine#mat barzal fic#mat barzal blurb#mat barzal x reader#matt rempe x reader
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Big government has finally done something for li'l old me: they installed a roundabout. In case you're unfamiliar, a roundabout is a road feature that you drive around, or in the Queen's English, "about." Instead of stopping at a four-way stop and waving each other on, you can now guess if you have time to fucking bury it and complete the exit before the confused SUV trying to navigate the circle rear-ends you. It's a lot of fun, which is what all public road infrastructure should aspire to be.
I don't think it goes far enough. And that's not just because I own a consulting company that builds roads. People are driving distracted: looking at their phones, messing with their radio stations, researching and performing experiments for science fair projects for their precocious children. Causes all kinds of accidents, because the most important thing when driving is to actually look where the car is going.
Here's my proposal. We take out all those boring straight roads behind my place and turn them into chicanes. Nobody is going to be scrolling Twitter when they are booking it at 100km/h through three sequential ninety-degree turns, or at least not for long.
No, to perform admirably at such an obstacle takes both hands on the wheel, some iron will, and a good understanding of braking distance and road conditions. Of course, if it means everyone stops driving on the road behind my house so I have it all to myself, that's a shame, but it's for the best. There's probably some kids or something that might conceivably play in the middle of that road in the future, and I don't think city council wants them to get flattened because you were too cheap to buy an FIA curb or two.
Of course, in the name of fuel economy, we still need to retain some of the straight roads. Cars make less pollution when they're not repeatedly hauling the brakes down to cornering speed and then flooring it to hit that apex and exit at maximum velocity. I recommend about a quarter-mile, or perhaps a little bit extra, with a light to stage at – I mean wait patiently for pedestrians to cross at. We'll throw in the water box for free, so you can do a burnout.
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regret:
pairing: jungkook x gn! reader
genre: non-idol au || angst ||
summary: regret is the worst emotion
tags/ warnings: kinda just angst… the ending is ambiguous so you can try make it happy if you want
notes: a little ramble based on how i feel at the moment as a little treat before bed <3 i feel very rusty because i haven’t written in so long
☆ where you can find the rest of my stuff!!
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.
the knowledge that the thing you want to say is going to hurt someone you care about is the worst feeling. a strange sinking in your chest, malleable guilt that chews away at your mind and your heart.
words tacky on your tongue as you rehearse them in your head over and over, a well practiced script. because ending something with someone you like a lot hurts. really, truly, hurts.
it hurts knowing you’ll hurt them and it hurts not knowing how your relationship will be after you utter the miserable set of words stuck in your mind.
jungkook was your first.
jungkook was your everything.
he was perfect, within whatever limitation human perfection has. he treated you like you were the best thing on the face of the earth. you were the light of his eyes, perfect in all your imperfect ways. a piece of you tucked away in his mind all hours of the day.
quick to message back when you text about your day. always on the other end of the phone. always there. the one person in the universe who loved you for who you were, the one person who loved to spend time with you all hours of the day. just the silent comfort of knowing you were there enough for him.
gentle as his fingers would run through your hair, legs tangled together and breathing soft as you linger between the waking world and gentle sleep.
his love for you was all consuming.
which is why you didn’t understand why it felt like your world was crumbling. a phantom hand wrapped around your delicate neck, constricting every breath you took.
a constant spiraling anxiety, tugging you further and further into this abyss of worry and self loathing.
the strange self loathing you have when you don’t know yourself anymore. unsure why. what reason there is to your existence. why people even liked you when it felt like you had nothing else to offer.
and at the time you thought you needed a break.
palms sweaty as you hold the phone to your ear, boyfriend understandably concerned by your recent lack of communication.
“hello..?” jungkook answers.
you swallow, “hi” it comes out quiet, throat already lodged, eyes glossy.
“what’s wrong, baby?” he hums, you hear him shuffle on the other end of the phone.
your lungs inflate as you take a deep breathe
“i..” you start, all that practice getting you nowhere as your mind stops, guilt clawing it’s way up your throat.
“baby?” he presses on, worry evident in his voice.
“i don’t know if i can do this anymore” the bitter words slip off your tongue, “you don’t deserve this”
and of course jungkook had been baffled. though maybe a small part of him knew that this was coming, how you’d slowly started to creep away from him. the unintentional distance scratching the surface of what was rattling around your mind.
“if this isn’t what you want… then that’s okay” he breathes, “i just want you to be happy”
you feel the tears trickle down the mounds of your cheeks, “no” you huff, “god, jungkook please don’t be nice right now”
“what do you want me to do?” he laughs, though you can feel the lack of humor, laugh dry as it’s pushed past his lips.
you wipe your wet cheeks, “call me a bitch or something”
“i’m not gonna call you a bitch” he sighs.
“but you don’t deserve this… i should have at least come in person or… i don’t know” you cry, “i feel like such a horrible person”
“you’re not a horrible person” he hums, “i don’t want you to feel bad”
“too late” you murmur, “i feel like shit… you’re just so nice and i really like you…. but i don’t think i can do this anymore”
the fact he has been so nice had made it harder. the sadness in his voice as he reassured you as you cried. the moment sinking in when you finally put your phone down. you’d shattered something so lovely. you’d ripped away the only person who made you feel seen.
and the week after was no different. he didn’t message you. so you never tried reaching out, how could you when you’d broken his heart.
it felt selfish missing him. wanting any sort of contact you could get.
and when he messaged about bringing some of your stuff over back to your place, that wasn’t enough. you knew that the small exchange wouldn’t be enough because you missed him, and asking for friendship after you ended the relationship chewed away at your mind.
sometimes missing someone is a strange feeling. knowing that the dynamic you once had is totally different, that it might never be the same as it was.
and sometimes missing someone hurts a little less than the guilt that eats away at you for what you have done. or missing someone can hide that slither of regret you have, wishing you knew you’d hate life without them as much as you did with them.
the world is lonely when you don’t feel seen.
dread wrapping around your mind. slowly sinking further and further into the darkness. nights spent thinking about the moments you’d shared together. that maybe you want what was once there.
you missed jungkook more than you’d like admit and it was eating away at your heart.
all it took was a week. a week of silence. a week of being alone and figuring out life by yourself.
you tip your head up, full moon shining down on the street as you stand outside jungkook’s apartment building, feet shuffling against the ground as you hold your phone to your chest. you’d written a message, rewritten the message, thought about what you’d say.
and that selfish part of you wants to send it. that selfish part of you wanting him to be there, for you to touch him, know that he’s really there and you can change what had happened.
#bts fanfic#bts#bts x reader#bts fic#jungkook#jungkook fic#bts angst#jungkook fanfic#jungkook angst#jungkook x reader#bts jungkook#jeon jungkook#jeon jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook fanfic#jeon jungkook angst#bts non idol au
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Go the Distance (Joshua Hong) ♫₊˚.🎧 ✩｡
Genre: Fluff, Comfort
Warnings: Nothing really except that this is like so sweet it makes me bitter at how adorable they are.
Synopsis: Joshua travels long distances just to see you, no matter how far.
Note: Another reworked fic from my pandora’s box of drafts / unfinished works, I wrote this while traveling so there might be typos or grammatical errors. Anyways, always remember to like + reblog as a way of showing support not only to me but also to other writers! Happy reading!
WC: 746
“Y/n? Can you open the door?” Joshua said from the phone. You were so close to dozing off when Joshua called, but you were jolted awake by what he had said.
“Joshua, what the fuck? This isn’t funny, you’re all the way in Seoul and I’m in Japan, there’s no way you came all the way here,” You huffed and went back to working on your essay, which was due the next day.
“Y/n, your mom called me. She told me about how you’ve been stressed over exams and school lately. I came to visit so you could maybe relax a bit,” Joshua said as you heard bags dragging from the other line. ‘He really is here,’ your eyes widened at the realization.
“Joshua, did you really fly all the way to Japan just to see me? You’re a week early for fucks sake! Isn’t the tour next week?” You were practically bolting down the stairs in your cinnamoroll slippers, almost slipping during the pursuit, which Joshua could hear.
“Maybe open the door so we can have a proper conversation?” Joshua had ended the call and you had opened the front door just in time, immediately engulfing your boyfriend in a hug as he spun you around.
The essay could wait, what mattered right now was that your boyfriend, who you hadn’t seen in almost half a year, was here to see you. Long distance was hard, especially with Joshua constantly on the move and his every schedule packed with work, but you were grateful that you and your boyfriend were able to make it work.
“Josh, I can’t believe you actually came!” You giggle, and Joshua buries his face into your hair. “Of course, I missed you so much. Now get off your laptop so we can spend time together,” Joshua says while walking into the cozy town house.
He’s been at your house a whenever he visited Japan, and it just gets more comforting as time goes on, especially the person living in it.
If Joshua wasn’t an idol, he would be fully content with just being your boyfriend and being a college student with you in the cozy town house you currently resided in.
“You really didn’t have to, I could’ve managed and been on my merry way to Seoul during the break you know,” You say softly and snuggle into Joshua’s arms as you watched a movie together.
“It was the least I can do, and besides, it’s been months since we last saw each other. I decided to get a headstart,” Joshua replied and snuggled his nose into the crook of your neck, a habit of his that you had missed so dearly.
“What did you end up bringing me by the way?” You asked, and opened the duty free bag curiously.
“I got you your favorite snacks that you always tell me to get whenever I fly over,” Joshua smiled gently, to which you responded with a squeal. Your boyfriend is the best person you could’ve ever asked for.
A few hours had gone by in a flash and after finishing some left over pizza from the day before and two tubs of ice cream, you and Joshua were beat.
“Are you tired? It’s getting late already, and you came here right after landing,” You say, concerned for your boyfriend, who had just come from a long flight.
“A bit, but I don’t mind because at least I finally get to see you after months,” Joshua whispers and gives you a gentle kiss.
You smile into it as Joshua leads you both into your bedroom, the two of you falling into your usual night routine as if time hadn’t passed.
When you were done, you laid in bed with Joshua, drawing circles into his firm chest as he ran his hands through your hair while slipping in a few pecks on your face.
“You seem so sleepy already,” Joshua chuckled, noticing your eyes slowly starting to droop. You did almost fall asleep at your desk before Joshua had called.
“I might be, I’m just scared that this is all a dream and you might disappear when I open my eyes tomorrow” You replied, already dozing off but still feeling Joshua’s gaze on you.
Joshua chuckles again and shakes his head at you. “Rest up darling, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here when you wake up,” he says, and turns off the lamp on the bedside table.
© rubyuji 2024’ -. no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any manner without the permission from the publisher.
#kpop#kpop fanfic#kpop ff#kpop angst#kpop fluff#kpop imagines#kpop au#kpop blurbs#kpop one shot#kpop one shots#kpop imagine#seventeen#seventeen fanfic#seventeen ff#seventeen angst#seventeen fluff#seventeen imagines#seventeen au#seventeen blurbs#seventeen one shot#seventeen one shots#seventeen imagine#joshua imagines#joshua one shots#joshua one shot#joshua hong#joshua ff#joshua fanfic#joshua hong imagines#joshua hong one shots
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Hello! Could I request something with Marc Guiu where he is smitten by reader who is two years older than him. She also live abroad. And she doesn't stop saying no to Marc to get into a relationship but Marc is adamant and wants to prove her that they can work a relationship together.
Like reader is studying in uni, having her own problems and doesn't want to add a long-distance relationship on top of those things.
Thank you! And I want to say that I really appreciate reading whatever you write.
Giving you a lot of hugs and hoping that you get your inspiration back 🥰
ready when you are / Marc Guiu
Summary: Marc x female!reader - Marc can't get you off his mind. You wish you could get him out of your face.
Warnings: suggestion of depriving oneself of proper self care
Requested?: Yes!
Author's Note: You're literally a lifesaver; thanks so much! Also, I made this a little bit more romantic and emotional than your request suggested, but do you really expect any different from tumblr user sports-on-sundays?!
Sometimes you think that giving Marc Guiu your number was the biggest mistake of your life.
You know it sounds mean, and it's not that you don't like Marc. He's funny; you enjoy chatting with him.
The only thing you did not realise, though, when you gave him your number, was that the boy is smitten by you.
He's stuck on you.
You just thought it'd be kind of cool. You know, you have the opportunity to stay in touch with Marc Guiu. Not world class or anything, but you're a Barcelona girl. It was just a cool idea.
Now, just as you're slipping under your quilt to shut your eyes for some sleep, nearly halfway across from Marc Guiu, in the United States of America (it was a treat to spend a lot of time here), you suddenly, to your dismay, hear your phone vibrating on the end table.
You roll over to snatch it up in annoyance, and sigh even louder when you see it's Marc trying to face time you.
You blow air out through your lips before sitting up and answering, immediately saying, "Is it not, like, 4:00 or 5:00 in the morning there?"
"It's 6:00 A.M.!" the guy beams, his brown eyes sparkling. "You said you didn't want me calling at 9:00 A.M. anymore, since that's like 3:00 A.M. for you, and I'm waking you up in the middle of the night. So I woke up early so I could call you now!"
"Marc," you groan. "It's 12:00 A.M. here! I was just about to go to sleep! Let me make this clear- calling me in the morning for you is off-limits."
His smile very swiftly turns upside, and he almost looks hurt, which immediately fills you with a considerable amount of guilt. "Sorry," he murmurs. "I just wanted to talk to you."
You sigh. Yeah, because you're mad in love with me, you can't help thinking to yourself. You decide not to say it, and inside respond, "I know. It's fine. Don't worry about it."
"Why were you going to bed at 12:00 A.M. anyway? You should be getting more sleep than that... did you not say once you have to wake up at 5:00 A.M....?"
"Oh, Marc," you click your tongue. "With all I've got going on, the last thing I'm worried about is getting enough sleep. I'm holding up two jobs, and having to study, and everyday I give myself at least some time for exploring and travel."
"How do you do all it?" he suddenly asks.
You shrug. "I like living like this. But health isn't my concern like it is yours. We have different priorities. And yours shouldn't be ridding yourself of sleep by waking up early to talk to me, hm?"
"Yeah, yeah. Sure..."
"Now, was there something you want to tell me?"
Through the screen, across the world, you can still see the tenderness in his eyes for you. His soft spot for you that's getting just a tad bit dangerous. "No, not really... Just wanted to... hear your voice, I guess."
"Oh... Oh."
"Yeah," he clears his throat. "I guess I just miss you..."
Despite everything, and the fact that you were determined to keep this to yourself, seeing Marc so open now about this still pushes the words out of your mouth as you say, "Well, Marc... My contract ends soon, which means I'll probably be coming home back to Barcelona for my next semester... After that, though, I've got plans for France... But at least that's closer, right? And you've got me for one semester."
You don't like how 'you've got me' sounds. And you know you shouldn't have said it.
Can't give this boy any more false hope than what he already has.
"Oh!" his eyes brighten, and his mouth tilts up once again. "Seriously! I'm so excited to see you again, then!"
You chuckle. "Y- Yeah, me too. Now, can I go to bed and get a few hours of sleep in?"
"Haha! Whoa, Marc, hold your horses, mate!" you laugh as he practically jumps into your arms for a hug, causing you to drop all your bags on the airport floor. "Just because I'm older than you doesn't mean you're not bigger and stronger!"
He grins, pulling away, and immediately scoops up all your bags for you. "I've already got a cab. Come on. I'll bring you to your flat and help you unpack!"
There's not much you can do to deter the Spanish boy, and once you're in your flat, all unpacked, you two plop on the couch. You sigh in relief as you say, "Feels good to be home!"
"Feels good to have you home, Y/n," Marc pipes in.
Even though you really don't want him to think you're interested, some of the little things he says never fail to make you smile, and feel warm inside.
Whether you want it or not, being loved feels good.
But then he slips his hand in yours. "So, the United States. That was the longest you've been away. Did you miss me as much as I missed you?"
"Probably not as much," you tease truthfully, "and we did face time pretty much every single moment you could. But, yeah, I missed seeing you in 3D."
He grins, and reaches up to tuck a piece of hair behind your hair, asking softer, "So... are you ready to date me yet?"
You lick your lips. You knew this would come, sooner rather than later. You sigh. "Marc, you know my answer." You begin to slip your hand away.
He grabs it back, and brings it to his chest. Now he's looking at you earnestly. "Please, Y/n..." His happy demeanor has quite suddenly turned almost desperate. "I know we can make this work..."
"Marc, I'm not going to be in a long-distance relationship like that."
He frowns, squeezing your hand tighter, looking you right in your eyes. "We already have a long-distance friendship. Why not a little more than that?"
"That requires more emotional involvement. My heart just can't take that. I can't be getting into relationships like that at this point in my life. Maybe someday, I can settle down and find someone. But you know I'm born to run, Marc..."
He looks down. Wraps your hand in both of his and rests it in his lap. "But we'll both be better off. I can make this work. Just give me a chance. Let me prove it."
"You're eighteen. You should be focused on your own things, like football, and your career, just like I'm focused on my own things, like travelling and studying for college. You shouldn't let yourself care so much about me, Marc," you speak gently, almost soothingly. "Please, please don't find your happiness in me. I'll fail you. You mustn't find perfection in imperfect people."
"But you're perfectly imperfect, just like me. Broken, like me, and I love you for these things..." he looks up again.
"Oh, Marc," you barely whisper, staring into those eyes. "Please don't ever say you love me. It's not good for either of us."
"But I do-"
"Marc," you say, sterner. "With everything else I have on my plate, and with everything else I'm chasing after, I can't give myself to you like that. Not right now. We're both so young, you even younger than me. I'd rather see you as a younger brother than anything else-"
"But Y/n-"
"Let's just be friends, okay?"
He sighs deeply. He doesn't nod, because he doesn't want it. But instead he leans in, resting his head against your shoulder, and wraps his arms around your body.
You sigh as his warmth is spread to you.
"Well, I'll enjoy you while you're here, and call often you when you're off to France. And you could run away and go wherever in the world you want, but please. Please always come back to Barcelona. Please always come back to me. Because I'll always be waiting here for you. And I'll be ready whenever you are. Ready for you whenever you're ready for me."
#sports-on-sundays#fcb#fc barcelona#barcelona fc#barcelona#fc barca#fc barça#barca#barça#barcelona imagine#barcelona spain#spain#france#united states of america#barcelona imagines#barcelona one shot#barcelona one shots#barcelona oneshot#barcelona oneshots#barcelona blurb#barcelona blurbs#barcelona fic#barcelona fics#barcelona fan fic#barcelona fan fics#barcelona fanfic#barcelona fanfics#barcelona fan fiction#barcelona fanfiction#marc guiu
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if you write for them 9. things you said when i was crying for beznaia
Mandalika 2023, Sunday Night.
His left hand playing with the bedroom access card, Pecco uses his right hand to refresh his text thread with Bezz, very aware that this is not how things work and he’s not going to have an answer appearing to him like this.
It’s not unusual for Bezz to forget about the existence of his phone but given his current condition, Pecco couldn’t help but worry. He hadn’t managed to catch up with Bezz after the race but he knew the heat and the distance must have taken a toll on his collarbone.
Pecco looks at the slim piece of plastic that Bezz had placed in the back pocket of his jeans on Friday night after they shared an elevator ride after dinner, the words “I know the view in my room is better than yours, you should come check it out before we leave” liberated in the air between them like Bezz was simply talking about the weather before he disappeared from the elevator, getting out on his floor.
People always tell Pecco that he needs to learn how to turn his brain off, stop thinking so much, go for his instincts, don’t overthink so much. That’s what Pecco does as he pockets his phone and heads out of his bedroom to knock on another door two floors down.
“Bezz, it’s me,” Pecco tries when he hasn’t received an answer after rasping his knuckles against the door a bunch of times.
Any other person, any other time, Pecco would have taken that as a sign to leave.
Trust your instincts.
Pecco swipes the plastic card against the magnetic reader above the handle. The LED at the top of it goes green, mechanism of the lock making sounds that appear stupidly loud in the otherwise silent hall.
Pecco calls for Bezz as he walks in but he only needs to take two steps in the room to find him sitting at the top of his bed, left hand holding his right arm against his chest, his head bent down over himself.
“Pecco?” Bezz lifts his head and that’s when Pecco realizes that he’s crying, the red of his eyes an harsh contrast to how pale Bezz’s skin looks.
The short distance between them gets eaten up fastly and once he’s in front of Bezz, Pecco’s hands immediately want to reach out before he sees Bezz wincing in pain, his eyes blinking away a couple of new tears.
Pecco settles for a hand on Bezz’s nape that has Bezz slipping his eyes closed for a second.
“Hey, I’m here, it’s okay,” Pecco says quietly, his thumb drawing circles against Bezz’s skin while his brain tries to take in the situation.
“How did you get in?” Bezz asks after wiping his face with the palm of his hand.
“You gave me your key, remember?”
“Oh, right. Sorry. Did you try to reach me? I left my phone in my pants and I haven’t had the force to get it.”
Pecco winces. It’s been a long time since he has seen Bezz like this, years, even. He was there when Bezz injured himself at the ranch and he kept a brave face in front of everyone —they all do whenever they need to— but Pecco knows you can’t always win against pain.
“Nothing to apologize for,” Pecco says easily, now not the day to guilt trip Bezz because he made Pecco worry. Maybe later, when Bezz is back on his feet and the injury is far enough for them to be able to laugh about it. Not now. Now— “Marco, when’s the last time you took pain meds? Do you have some with you or do you need me to call someone?”
“Flavio gave me something after the race but I think it’s starting to wear off. He gave me another pill for tonight, it should be in my jacket.”
Pecco checks the watch on his wrist and does the quick math to figure out how long it’s been since the race ended. Then, he turns around, looks for bright yellow in the mess that is Bezz’s bedroom and find his jacket on the floor next to the foot of the bed.
He grabs a water bottle from the mini bar, opens it for Bezz, and takes the pill out from the foil paper before presenting both objects to Bezz who still grimaces as he uses his left hand to take the medication.
“Good,” Pecco says, his hand catching the water bottle again, capping it and setting it on the nearby bedside table. “Have you eaten?”
Bezz shrugs and immediately regrets the gesture, painful wince distorting his face and making Pecco wince in sympathy with him. “I had dinner with the team. Wasn’t very hungry, though.”
Pecco frowns. He’s more surprised by the admission than the fact itself. “Okay,” he nods carefully, thinking about the next step here.
There is a small part of him that wants to call for someone else, someone more competent than him that will for sure know how to make sure that Bezz is fine. And then there is the part of him that knows that’s not what Bezz wants and the part of him that wants to do this for him, all on his own.
Pecco picks up the bedroom phone from the bedside table.
“Hello, I’m in room 307. Would it be possible to get a bag of ice, please?”
Pecco feels a tug on his t-shirt and when he looks down, he finds Bezz’s fingers fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Pecco smiles, puts his free hand on Bezz’s forearm.
“You have food options, right? What about sandwiches? Okay, yes, I’ll have the chicken one please. And a side of fries. Thank you.”
Bezz frowns at him and Pecco rubs his thumb against Bezz’s skin. It’s not the most nutritive of food and it's not a piadina but it’s something Bezz can easily munch on now and something he can eat cold later if his appetite comes back.
“You’ve won from the 5th row and you’ve taken the lead of the championship back, you should be out celebrating,” Bezz says once Pecco has hung up and pocketed his phone again after texting the handful of people that were expecting him to go out.
Bezz’s head is still leaning against the headboard and he looks so pale, Pecco wishes he could put some colors back into his skin.
As things stand, Pecco lifts his hand to Bezz’s face, pushes some curls away from his forehead and uses his thumb to wipes away some leftover tears. “It’s okay, I’d rather be here.”
Was Pecco in the mood to release some tension after how intense and mentally draining this weekend in Mandalika had been? Yes. Could he party without Bezz if Bezz wasn’t available? Sure. Did he want to when he knew Bezz was in this condition? Absolutely not.
Pecco remembers the days after Barcelona, how Bezz had called for Pecco’s physio when Pecco woke up in excruciating pain, unable to get out of bed. He thinks about Bezz bringing him stuff so he wouldn’t have to move and continuously offering Pecco his arm or his shoulder when his crutch wasn’t there.
Bezz had said “It’s okay, Pecchino, you’ll repay me later” with his usual laugh showing all of his teeth and Pecco had smiled back, some heat pooling on his cheeks and at the pit of his stomach.
“Oh,” Bezz muses. “Okay.” Pecco lifts his thumb to smooth the creased lines between Bezz’s brows. In answer, he gets tugged to the bed after Bezz’s hand has grabbed on his belt loops and Pecco stumbles a little, catching himself on Bezz’s thigh, avoiding his chest and the arm he’s still cradling there. “If we find the good position, I might be able to give you a decent celebratory BJ.”
Pecco feels very hot and then very cold, the sensations sobering even if he hasn't had a drop of alcohol. A stupid noise escapes his mouth. “If you injure yourself more because of sex, I’ll kill you.”
What Bezz does with other people is the last thing Pecco wants to think about right now. The concept of Bezz thinking an orgasm or two are the only reasons Pecco came tonight? Definitely makes Pecco feel a little sick.
“I only came for the view, remember?” He tries, conscious that his joke is going to fall flat the moment the words leave his mouth.
Pecco can hear the fingers on his waist fall back down on the mattress right before there is a knock on the door.
Follow your instincts.
Pecco leans down to press a kiss to Bezz’s forehead before turning around to get the door.
#rpf#prompt fill#my writing#6372#I'm sorry this is not like good or anything#also it's a prompt from early november but whatever#realistically the room service is very fast here but listen that's for the sake of fiction#and then pecco holds the ice to bezz's collarbone and they watch movies together#bezz is not in an ideal position to cuddle but I assure you they make do#they can maybe even kiss#think about bezz whining when pecco cool things off because he doesn't want to hurt bezz#I don’t know how to write people crying so—
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.02: SLEEP ALONE
As the adopted daughter of Tony Stark, your role becomes even more twisted and entangled when you meet and fall in love with one James Barnes. Unbeknownst to you, your world is about to flip upside down. Bucky x Stark!Reader
Word Count: 2,146
Warnings: mentions of death, dead body
*this was an anon request*
.01
Since that fateful meeting, you spent more and more time with James. You hadn’t booked a return flight from Bucharest, not until you found what you needed. You hadn’t pestered him anymore about his metal hand, which he had elaborated was actually his whole left arm. And he didn’t treat you any different after knowing of your powers. You simply started finding comfort in each others company. Daily coffee runs turned into shared dinners and discussions over tea. He had one more place he wanted to investigate that your mother might have stayed in and this time he conceded to your insistence on coming along.
It was what looked to be an abandoned warehouse about an hour from the city. James had explained that some people used it as a halfway house on their way out of Bucharest. It’s roof was still intact and it was large and spacious, lots of places to hide if you didn’t wanna be found.
“I’ll go first.” James said, which you appreciated. Even though you had what felt like the power of a nuclear bomb underneath your skin, this was unfamiliar territory and the last thing you needed to do was bring down a giant cement building. You could already see the headlines and the disappointed phone call you would be receiving from your father having to clean up your mess.
You followed close behind James as he entered the warehouse. You weren’t expecting to find anyone here. Every other lead had been a dead end but you weren’t exactly ready to give up either. The main room of the warehouse was empty, nothing but abandoned tents and scraps left behind by whomever came before. You sifted amongst the trash with your foot, to see if there was anything of potential value. James wandered off into one of the adjacent rooms as you continued looking. A moment later, James returned looking as if he’d seen a ghost.
“What’s the matter?” You asked, abandoning your search through the trash.
“There’s a body in one of the rooms back there.” He started, looking down at his feet and shaking his head. “I didn’t look too closely at it but it seemed to be female.” His blue eyes met yours and they seemed to tell you “Don’t go in there.” or did you read his mind?
You pushed by him and began marching towards the room he came from,
“Y/N.” He called out for you, jogging to catch up with you.
“I have to see. I have to know for sure.” You stated sternly and continued your momentum. When you entered the room, you saw a pile of blankets in the corner. James was right behind you, you could feel his soothing presence as you crept closer to the blankets. There was long brown hair sprouting from the top of the pile. Carefully you knelt down and slowly peeled back the blankets, revealing the still face of a woman. A woman who eerily looked like you. Same hair, same face. James stood a small distance behind you, giving you space but remaining close enough if you needed him. He was silent but observed your every move.
As you looked at her, you noticed something that looked like the corner of a piece of paper sticking out from the jacket she was in. Carefully, you pulled it from the body and found your name written on it. With shaking breath, you unfolded the paper and read the handwritten note.
“To my dearest Y/N,
If you’re reading this that means he found me. I am so sorry for all the pain I caused you, I only ever wanted you to have a normal life. Last I heard you were adopted by a very important man who has given you everything I never could. I hope you are happy. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy, which is why all of this started. If he hasn’t already, he will try to come for you. He hates people like you but you are a miracle. A magnificent and beautiful creature with endless capabilities. Never forget that.
Please, protect yourself however you can. I will be watching over you, I love you.
Your mother.”
You paused for a moment after you finished reading, standing up to your feet.
“Are you alright?” James asked softly.
“Someone killed my mother because of me.” You said through gritted teeth, you could feel the power surging in your veins. In every fiber of your being. White hot and begging to be released. James took a step closer to you.
“I’m sorry, Y/N.”
“Sorry won’t bring her back. Sorry won’t change what I am.” You eyes were locked on your mothers body.
“Y/N, it isn’t your fault. Don’t blame yourself for this.” James reached to place his flesh hand on your shoulder but you spun around pushing his hand away.
“Don’t patronize me! Don’t try to understand how it feels to know you are the reason your mother is dead in a warehouse!” You shouted, red sparks emanated from your fingertips. Something was waking up inside you.
“Y/N.” James called gently, as you fought the sobs trying to escape your throat. Let me out. The power within you cooed. Let me free.
“Y/N, look at me.” James’ voice was stern but you barely heard him over the roar in your ears. You began to hyperventilate, as the power continued to grow within you looking for a release.
“Y/N! Don’t!”
James’s voice was the last thing you heard before a scream erupted from your lungs. A scream so anguished and broken. Filled to the brim with pain. Then everything went black. There were flashes as your mind flowed in and out of consciousness. Smoke and rubble. The feeling of strong arms wrapping around you. James’ muffled voice so close you could feel the vibration on your skin.
When you came to, you were back in your apartment. James was sitting at the coffee table wringing his hands together. When he noticed you stirring he jumped to his feet to be at your side.
“Y/N. Are you okay?” He asked, his eyes scanning your face anxiously. You brought a hand up to your head and winced,
“I think so.” You mumbled. “What happened?”
James looked down for a moment,
“What do you remember?” He asked.
“I remember finding my mother and her note and then feeling so much anger and pain and then nothing.” You answered, looking to him and seeing the worry in his eyes.
“What did I do?” You asked urgently. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again.
“James, tell me, what did I do?” You insisted.
“You brought half the building down on top of us. I pulled us out of the rubble.” He admitted. You let out a deep sigh,
“Oh my god.” You winced, exactly what you didn’t want to have happen.
“It’s alright, it was an old building anyways no one will think anything of it.” James assured. “What matters the most is that you’re ok.” He added. You began rubbing your forehead, racking your brain to put together those lost moments of time but it only started giving you a migraine so you gave up.
“I’m sorry, James. I try so hard to keep it under control but-
“No, don’t.” He shook his head. “You don’t have to do that with me.”
“Do what?” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.
“Don’t have to explain yourself. What you are.” He hesitated before pulling a crumpled piece of paper from his jacket pocket and handing it to you.
“I figured you would want to keep this.” He said, changing the subject. You took your mothers note from his hand and felt the tears welling in your eyes. James moved to stand up when you reached out and grabbed his hand, stopping him leaving. He looked down at you in surprise, after the events of today he assumed you’d be done. On your way back home and he’d go back to being alone. But something changed when you grabbed his hand, you felt it and you pushed that feeling through you to him.
“Don’t go.” You whispered with a shaking voice. “I don’t like sleeping alone.” You felt vulnerable saying it but it was true.
“Neither do I.” He admitted but he made no move to join you in bed. “But I don’t think you’d want to share a bed with me.” He slid his hand from your grip and stepped back over to the coffee table. You sat up, propping yourself on your elbows as you watched him.
“What are you talking about?” You asked, observing him intently. His body language had changed, he was stiff and you could feel him closing you out.
“I’m not a good man, Y/N and if you knew everything I’d done.” His voice broke for a moment and he shook his head as if to collect himself. At this revelation you pushed yourself all the way out of bed and walked over to stand before him. Pulling his head up to look at you,
“I may not know every thing about you, you’re right. But I know enough to know that you aren’t a bad man.” You said, gazing into his eyes.
“No, I’m not. Not really.” He pulled his head away from your hold but you pulled it right back.
“Listen to me.” You stated, holding his head between both of your hands. “I get to decide who I want in my life and who I want to share my bed. No one else. If you think I won’t still love you because you have skeletons in your closet, after I nearly killed us both. You are out of your mind.”
His eyes widened at your accidental declaration. Love might’ve been strong but you felt something more than just affection for him. He didn’t try to pull away again so you released him, letting your hands fall to your hips.
“If you want to leave because you don’t feel anything for me, I will understand. But don’t tell me it’s because you don’t think you’re worthy. That just isn’t true.” You swallowed hard, waiting for him to push past you and leave but he didn’t. He simply stood still. So you reached down and took his left hand, slowly slipping the glove off and throwing it the the floor. You held his metal hand in yours, inspecting it delicately
“Is this why you don’t think you’re worthy?” You asked. James furrowed his brow and blinked as if recalling a painful memory. But he didn’t pull away. You interlocked you fingers with his,
“Whatever you did before, whatever it is you don’t want to tell me. I don’t hold it against you. And I never will.”
James blinked rapidly, holding back the tears you could see threatening to spill over. With your other hand you caressed his cheek and he leaned into your touch.
“You saw the worst side of me and you stayed anyway. What makes you think I wouldn’t do the same for you, James.” You said, leading him to sit on the edge of the mattress. As you sat down, you helped him shrug off the jacket he’d been wearing all day. His mechanical arm was more exposed now, just a cotton sleeve protecting it from your eyes.
“I’ve hurt a lot of people.” He spoke, his voice hoarse. He rolled up the sleeve to reveal more of his arm. “This arm has done nothing but cause pain until I met you.” He looked at you and the pain you saw in his eyes cut through you like a knife. Carefully, you placed your hand on the cool surface.
“Did you have a choice? When you hurt them, did you have a choice?” You asked.
“No.” James choked on the sadness in his throat. Once again you held his face in your hands, your faces inches from each other.
“Than it isn’t your fault.” You started. “Whatever you’ve done, is not your fault, James.”
His head dropped in defeat and you held him close against your chest. Letting him cry if he needed or simply just feel the warmth of you. For a moment you sat there, holding him to you until he sat up. You flashed him a sympathetic smile,
“Come, let’s lie down.”
You both slid into bed, it was not quite big enough for two but you didn’t mind feeling the warmth of him next to you. In fact you curled yourself up against his chest and fell asleep almost instantly. James remained awake, watching you sleep until he couldn’t keep the exhaustion at bay any longer. That night was the most peaceful night either of you had had in a long time.
-------
tags:
@blackbirdwitch22
@queenashen
@annonymsworld
@ladyvenera
@laurxn-robinson
#bucky barnes#marvel fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fanfiction#sebastian stan#sebastianstan#buckybarnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky x you#stark!reader#stark!daughter#bucky fanfic#james bucky buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes
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Clean Up Mix (Omegaverse Mpreg)
Tommy was relatively new to the relationship with Evan and Eddie. He was still getting used to them and learning new things about them every day. Like how Evan hated kombucha but Eddie loved it (which he currently couldn't have because of the pregnancy). Or how Evan loved to cuddle and practically climbed on top of him, while Eddie liked to keep his distance (he secretly loved cuddling too but he would never admit it). Or how Evan loved making playlists and had one for every occasion, while Eddie loved to sing in the shower. But then one day Tommy discovered that it wasn't just the shower where Eddie liked to sing. After his shift ended, Tommy went straight home. He heard the screeching noises inside the house and immediately opened the door, wondering if Eddie was in trouble. But nothing prepared him for what he saw. Eddie was singing what sounded like "Independent Women" by Destiny's Child while wearing a t-shirt that was a little too big on him. If Tommy had to guess, it was his shirt. Eddie was facing away from Tommy with headphones on and he was vacuuming the living room.
Tommy slowly closed the door behind him and took out his phone to record what he was seeing. This was just for his and Evan's eyes. Eddie looked hot. Tommy couldn't see it but he knew Eddie's pregnant belly must look so perfect in his shirt.
"The shoes on my feet (I bought it)," Eddie sang and pointed the vacuum at his feet. "The clothes I'm wearing (I bought it)." He pulled at his shirt to emphasize the clothes part and Tommy wanted to point out that the clothes were his, but he didn't. "The rock I'm rocking (I bought it)." He lifted his hand and looked at his empty ring finger. Tommy had to talk to Evan about maybe getting Eddie a ring. "'Cause I depend on me if I want it," Eddie sang and shook his ass before turning around.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!" Eddie screamed and threw the vacuum at him, but Tommy managed to dodge it in time before it could hit him in the face, dropping his phone in the process.
"Eddie, what the fuck?!" Tommy asked horrified. His heart was still pounding against his chest.
"Tommy! What the hell, babe?! Why'd you sneak up on me?" Eddie asked, holding protectively onto his pregnant belly.
"I- I- I didn't! You were singing and you looked so cute and I couldn't-" Tommy tried explaining.
A smile slowly spread across Eddie's face before he was laughing. "I can't believe you did that!"
"I barely did anything!" Tommy defended himself but couldn't help but laugh as well.
Eddie came over to Tommy and wrapped his arms around his neck. "You're lucky you're cute, babyboy," he told him and kissed him.
The door opened behind them as they kissed and then Tommy heard Evan's voice saying, "You two seem happy. What did I miss?"
Tommy pulled away from the kiss but rested his hand on Eddie's lower back instead. "You have to see this," he said picking up his phone.
"Wait! You recorded that?!" Eddie yelled.
"Yep," Tommy threw the phone at Evan before Eddie could take it from him.
A chuckle escaped Evan's throat as he watched the video before he looked up at the two of them. "Did you really scream like that?" He laughed bending over and grabbing his thighs. "Fuck, that's hilarious! "
"Oh yeah, he was really into that song," Tommy replied teasingly.
"You two are real comedians! Bullying a pregnant omega. I hope you're proud of yourselves," Eddie huffed and went over to sit down on the couch.
Tommy and Evan looked at each other before going over to Eddie and taking a seat on either side of him. "Sorry, baby," Tommy apologized and kissed Eddie's cheek.
"Yeah, baby, it was just a joke," Evan added and kissed Eddie's other cheek. "We're sorry."
Eddie sighed and shook his head. "I hate you two right now but if you made me nachos then I can be persuaded to forgive you..."
"Yeah, yeah, nachos coming right up!" Tommy told him and stood up.
"Whatever you need, babygirl," Evan added and stood up with him.
"He just duped us into making nachos for him, didn't he?" Tommy asked as he walked to the kitchen.
"Yes, yes, he did," Evan replied.
#tommy kinard#eddie diaz#evan buckley#buddietommy#polyfire#bucktommyeddie#911 abc#911 fic#911 fanfiction#omegaverse#mpreg#alpha tommy kinard#omega eddie diaz#alpha evan buckley
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many the miles, 1/2
evans!severus au
the one where 13yo severus sneaks off to cokeworth and unwittingly gets caught by his older sister, and they both end up on a train to the midlands
OR
a long meandering sibling-focused two-shot that i've been dying to write because these two wouldn't stop arguing in my head and it was driving me NUTS
wc: 6866 (more or less)
cw: mentions of epilepsy, growing up in the 90s/2000s, discmans, Fruit Polos (rip), being yelled at by older siblings in public places, 2000s eyebrows, swearing, whatever else
for @greens-your-color :)
--
“Severus!”
Severus froze mid-step at the sound of his name being called among the crowded orange halls of St. Pancras. It had been faint, as though coming from a distance or a fading dream, and his first thought was to consider whether his new potions regimen included late-onset hallucinations.
Fantastic, he thought grimly, but proceeded to steel himself to accept the possibility with reluctant grace. When his name was called out loud again, however, and this time with a hard edge, he frowned and quickly reconsidered the odds, deciding that hallucinations didn’t normally grow louder or fiercer as time went on. Besides…hallucinations didn’t tend to make Mercutio react, and as it was, he had already turned to face the opposite way, his massive tail thumping hard against Severus’ leg.
“Severus!”
There was something in the way his name was said that instinctively made him spin on his heel so fast that he nearly got whiplash. At first there wasn’t anything worth noting, but soon enough his eyes focussed beyond the crowd and he was met with the sight of a rather familiar blur of wild blonde hair and clenched teeth running towards him with all the speed and rage of a charging Erumpet…if said Erumpet was just over five feet and wore paint-stained overalls with their mother’s soiled red wellies (exactly the ones she usually wore when mucking about the garden and which he knew a fox had pissed on just days before).
His jaw seemed to unhinge, and he felt himself gaping in disbelief. Alarm flared hot and heavy in the pits of his stomach.
“Petunia…?!” Severus said with no small amount of trepidation. Between the possibility of being subjected to medication-induced hallucinations or his indignant older sister, he much preferred the former than the latter. Hell, death would be the preferred option to Petunia in a massive strop. His instincts screamed at him to run and find a dark corner to hide, but his trainers stayed firmly glued to the spot as he watched the figure approach.
Please don’t be her…please don’t be her, he found himself wishing, though he knew it was futile. The figure had already stopped in front of him, red-faced and breathless from the run, with the look of a creature possessed. Their chest heaved and their eyes flashed, and within the stuttering silence, there was a brief moment when Severus still held out the hope that this could all be a dream—
“You little…shit.”
A manicured nail poked him in the chest. Hard. Severus winced. Definitely (and unfortunately) not a hallucination then. Mercutio yipped again, happily. The traitor.
Severus held up his hands as though he was under arrest. Well, he technically was.
“Hang on—ow! Hang on, I can explain…” Raw fear made his words skitter and stumble past his teeth. His tongue had gone dry and suddenly wanted to make a home for itself on the roof of his mouth. “Listen, Toons, it’s not what you think—”
“No, no, no, you listen! Just what do you think you’re doing, Severus Tobias Evans?!” As though on cue, Petunia exploded, and Severus was suddenly awash in a tirade that rang and echoed across the station’s stone walls in a manner that would rival any well-placed Sonorous. “Do you know how worried I was?! I took my eyes off you for one hour and I came back to find your room empty with nothing but a cryptic note on your desk and the last redialed number on the phone one to a cab company leading here! It cost me sixty quid to get here, mind! Sixty! I’ve not washed my hair and I’m supposed to be revising for my exam! I only agreed to watch you for Mum and Dad since they said you were ill and not having lessons today. You’ve no business to be here. WHY ARE YOU HERE?”
Severus grimaced as Petunia shouted the final question, his ears burning something fierce. He hadn’t seen or heard her that furious in ages. The last time he could remember that she had exploded the same way was when he and Lily had been experimenting with their magic a year or so before they got their Hogwarts letters: they had ended up lopping the tip of Lily’s finger clean off and had attempted, quite unsuccessfully, to fix it themselves. Petunia had reached a similar volume then (possibly due to the amount of blood on the kitchen floor), but that one at least hadn’t been a public bollocking – she had calmed down enough by the time they had run over to Andi and Ted to ask for help, and had subsequently handed the reins off to the Tonkses for a second dressing-down; the memory of a particularly potent stinging hex against his palm wasn’t something Severus would soon forget.
This time it was different. They were out in the open and Lily wasn’t available for him to tag team with. If Lily had been there, she’d have likely covered for him so this entire situation wouldn’t even be happening. But as it stood, he now had to deal with an irate Petunia all on his own where strangers could ogle at them, and wasn’t that a treat?
“It isn’t what you think it is.” Severus forced himself to speak, although his voice was higher than he’d like. “It really isn’t.”
“Oh it isn’t? Because what I think is that you’re in heaps of trouble and that’s not even the whole of it.” Petunia spoke in a tone that eerily sounded like their mother’s and it made Severus’ skin crawl.“This really has to be the most idiotic thing you’ve done, Severus. Congratulations, you’ve exceeded expectations entirely with this act. What on earth could possibly justify your being here—”
She stopped mid-rant and Severus saw as she focused on the rucksack he was carrying, her eyes wide as they traveled up to his face. “Hang on, what is that?” She gasped, looking genuinely aghast. “Severus, are you running away?”
Severus groaned, resisting the urge to slap his forehead with his palm. Of course his sister would jump to that conclusion. “I just told you it isn’t what you think it is! I’m not running away.”
“Well, I don’t know what you want me to think given that we’re in a bloody train station and you’ve a bag with you! It’s not like I’ve caught you lollygagging at the corner store!”
“Toons, just—” He was getting equally frustrated and had to resist with his entire being from telling Petunia to just shut up for a bloody minute to make his ears stop ringing and from bringing them further embarrassment. God, he hoped none of the people around them knew who they were. “It really is going to be fine, just let me…” His words were starting to fail him again, and Severus clenched his fists at his sides. “Look. It’s only a daytrip, I promise. I’ll be back even before Mum and Dad get home, but you have to let me do this, Toons. Trust me.”
The shade of red Petunia’s face turned into wasn’t one he had ever seen on any living person before.
“Trust you—?! Severus, you’re thirteen! I can’t even trust you with a pocketbook of matches! And a daytrip? Are you mad?! Are you playing hookey just to go on holiday? Are you…” And this time, Petunia was mindful enough to look round and lower her voice before speaking the next sentence: “Are you going to Hogwarts, because I swear if you are—”
“What? No!” Severus frowned. “Why would I go to Hogwarts?” The first term for that year had barely started, and besides, he had already gotten approval to have several Advanced lessons that wouldn’t be taught to Lily and the rest of their class until later in the year. Apart from wanting to visit his sister, Hogwarts held very little appeal for him.
“How am I supposed to know what goes on in your head?” Petunia fumed. “Mum and Dad gave me specific instructions to keep an eye on you today because they said you were ill.” She peered closer at his face. “But you’re not, are you? You’re sneaking off to God knows where while they’re away!”
Severus felt himself flush. He hadn’t needed any of Lily’s Fever Fudge to fool his parents earlier that morning before they had left for their outing, but being called out on it now made him feel several levels of shame that he didn’t think he was capable of feeling. Petunia hadn’t even tried to see if he had a temperature; she had already cottoned on.
“Technically,” he muttered, “I am ill…with a chronic condition…”
“Oh, Severus!” Petunia exclaimed, and she really did sound like their Mum when she was at the end of her tether. It was freakishly uncanny. “How could you lie to them about this? Do you know how worried they constantly are about you? How I—” She stopped herself mid-sentence before consciously attempting to regain her composure. After a few uneven breaths, she leveled a glare at him.
“Right, you are going to explain now,” she ordered, her voice now deadly calm. “Or I’m phoning Mum and Dad, and you will be in so much trouble I doubt you’ll even be let out until you’re eighty.”
“You wouldn’t! That’s not fair!” Severus gasped. The worst possibility he’d considered in his plan was having his parents overly worry, causing them to stay behind. Careless as he was with many others’ feelings (his sisters sometimes included), his parents were the utmost exception and he took great care of theirs above all else, since he often despised how much they had to pause their own lives for his sake. The thought of his plan unraveling in such a way that it would make them cancel their holiday altogether made him sick to his stomach. Mum had even bought an entirely new wardrobe for it even though they were only going to be gone for the day. “They’ve been looking forward to this outing for months!”
“Well bully for you, I guess you should have stayed home like you were supposed to, then.” Petunia crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her head. “Talk,” she commanded.
Oh, Petunia was a tough nut to crack. If it came down to it, he knew she’d force the answers out of him somehow. Sometimes, Severus was glad his older sister wasn’t magical at all; he was sure she’d end up an Unspeakable, and the thought itself was enough to make him shudder.
“I really am not running away...” Severus said, and it took all his willpower to not allow his voice to tremble. He wasn't afraid, how could he be? Petunia was the height of a Christmas elf. But his knees felt weak all the same. And did his voice just break? Merlin. “Everything was all planned out. I put out a note just in case, but I wasn’t really expecting you or anyone else to find it.” He felt very much like a child as Petunia raised a razor-thin eyebrow at him (it looked so awful, why was this a fad? But both his sisters would kill him if he ever so much as breathed his opinion about them), but somehow managed to ramble on. “Anyway, I was going to go and be back before anyone could find out.”
“How could you think I wouldn’t check on you at any point?” Petunia looked deeply unimpressed which, honestly, was her default expression, but this time it seemed more pointed. “I would have had to make sure you hadn’t died before Mum and Dad came home…” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Severus, did you ward your room?”
Bleeding buggering hell, his sister should have really just joined the police force. An economics degree or whatever it was she was in uni for would be far too dull for her. Having Petunia as a copper would lower the crime rate in Britain to single digits, he reckoned. Between him and Lily, she had already garnered enough practice.
As in that moment, when the stilted silence between them already gave her the confirmation she needed.
“Severus Tobias Evans!” Petunia thundered, anger flooding her features once more. “How could you do such a reckless thing! You know Mum and Dad specifically told you to not put any kind of ward or charm on your room…it’s not safe!”
This time it was Severus’ turn to glare. Although he knew his family’s rules and their protectiveness always meant well, he couldn’t help but feel suffocated when they insisted on his safety as though he was made of spun glass.
“It was just the one time and you broke through well enough!” He said hotly. “That shouldn’t have even been possible with the Notice-Me-Not up!”
He was equally annoyed and perplexed at having been caught, especially knowing that it was due to Petunia being unaffected by the charm enough to enter his room. His sister was notoriously averse to magic, and simple charms usually worked on her effortlessly. To his surprise, Petunia scoffed at his statement. She raised her wrist and showed the bright green bracelet clasped around it. The same bracelets their parents wore, all of which were in the same fluorescent color as Mercutio’s enchanted emergency collar. Severus groaned, recognizing it right away.
“You’re bloody joking! How do you have one?” Part of him wanted to throw a tantrum, as pointless as it was. The bracelet would make Petunia the third person to have the ability to know of his general well-being whether he wanted them to or not. The very thought made him want to snap it off and chuck it into the Thames. “St. Mungo’s said it was only for parents and guardians!”
“I asked, and they gave me one when I came of age,” Petunia said snootily. “Your little tricks don’t work when your safety is concerned. The bracelet started growing warm all of a sudden this morning and I knew you were up to something. Now here I am, and my toast has been abandoned and is growing cold in the kitchen as we speak.”
“You were supposed to be revising for exams. I checked your timetable and everything and Mum had left me sandwiches in my room so you wouldn’t need to bother.” Severus was fuming. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
“Don’t even think of giving me lip,” Petunia snapped at him with a warning tone that instantly made him internally recoil, although he continued to glare at her. “And of course you went through my things even though I’ve told you a million times not to! And…hang on…if you bunked off your tutors today then even Andi doesn’t know your little scheme, whatever it is. She wouldn’t have expected you at her house today for lessons.”
It was more a statement than a question and Severus flinched. He had been avoiding trying to think of what Andi would do to him once – if – she found out.
“It would have been fine…” he said as he unconsciously rubbed his palm where Andi’s stinging hex had last been cast.
“Oh fine, he says!” Petunia’s sudden outburst earned them a few startled glances. “This is not fine, Severus, if you still haven’t noticed. You’ve told no one? Are you daft? If anything happened to you whilst you were out…we wouldn’t even know where to start!”
“I was only going to be gone for a couple of hours.” Severus couldn’t understand what she was so worked up about. In his mind, his plan made perfect sense. “I’ve been gone for longer to the library.”
“You’re comparing this to a trip the library, really? Have you utterly lost all sense? Do you truly not understand the danger…?!” At Severus’ defiant expression, Petunia groaned. “Seriously, I am going to end up tearing my hair out…what if you had gotten kidnapped? Mugged? What if you had become seriously ill at any point?”
Her eyes flashed at the words, although he needed no cues, verbal or otherwise, to understand what it was she was referring to. He crossed his own arms, mirroring his sister’s defensive pose.
“I wouldn’t have,” he said with full confidence. “But even if I had a fit, it would be fine. I’ve been taking my po—medicines, and Mercutio’s here—”
“Mercutio wouldn’t have been able to protect the people with you, you absolute numpty!” This time, Petunia didn’t look angry but terrified. “Did you not consider that in your grand plan? Mercutio could get you to hospital but someone apart from you could get seriously hurt with your…abilities…and then where will we all be? I don’t fancy being in prison—in either world! Mum and Dad either, mind!”
Severus felt the blood drain from his face at her words. The image of a train suddenly exploding mid-track and people losing assorted limbs due to his accidental magic ran unbidden through his mind’s eye and made him wince. It was true that he had only considered what would happen to him if he had gotten a fit at any point during the trip; he had forgotten about its effects on other people entirely. His family and the Tonkses and his tutors always seemed to know what to do…but he hadn’t planned on them being with him, had he?
Suddenly, Petunia being so spitting angry no longer seemed as ridiculous given that perspective.
Merlin’s bloody bollocks, he was a knob.
“I…” he licked his lips. “I didn’t…I didn’t mean…Look. Toons.” He attempted to placate his sister by being entirely upfront. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think—”
“That much is obvious.” Petunia snapped, before releasing what sounded like a pent-up sigh. She took a long pause before she reached for his hand. Her fingers were cold as she squeezed his.
“Listen, Severus, you honestly frightened me to death. Now…I won’t tell Mum and Dad, but let’s just go home, all right? Let this be the end of the adventure. We’ll forget about this and maybe I won’t use it as leverage against you in the future. All right? Let's just go.”
She tugged him in the direction of the exits, but he resolutely stayed put. Grateful as he was for his sister’s reprieve (a rare treat as far as he was concerned), he knew he couldn’t go. This had taken months of planning and he had already come so far.
“No,” he shook off Petunia’s hold. “No, I’m sorry, I can’t. I have to go today. It’s my only chance.”
“To do what?” Petunia, bless her, looked as though he’d hit her with an extremely powerful Confundus but was expending all her energy to fight it off. She pressed her palms against her eyes. “Go where? Severus, are you actually delirious? I don’t understand—”
“Cokeworth.”
“WHAT?” Petunia dropped her hands to gawk at him, her eyes nearly bugging out of her head. Her lips moved almost involuntarily although no further sounds came out. When her vocal chords seemed to have caught up with her, it was for high-pitched hissing and sputtering, making her sound rather like an anaphylactic snake, or an irate tea kettle.
“I’m sorry, you were planning to go where? The Midlands? NOW?”
“Yes.” Severus fished around in his pocket and produced the tickets he’d already bought. He’d saved his pocket money for weeks for this trip, and he’d even had to do some odd jobs around the house and for some of the neighbours. “The train is leaving in half an hour. You can go home and wait for me there, or just wait for me to come back here. But either way…I’m going.” He licked his lips nervously. He’d never stood up to Petunia this determinedly before and he was terrified of the possible consequences (Petunia could be quite vengeful, even for the pettiest things) but he didn’t want to mull over it now. Thankfully she seemed too distracted by the current circumstances to even ponder on future punishments.
“Are you even allowed to go?! As a child?? With a dog?? The police are going to be notified!”
It was a valid concern, but one that Severus had already covered. “I’m thirteen, it’s allowed, I checked,” he said, by means of explanation. He pulled Mercutio closer to him, who happily nuzzled his face into his hip. “Mercutio too. We’re not going to make trouble so there won’t be any reason for the police to come.”
This time, Petunia really did look as though she was about to murder him, and Severus was glad they were surrounded by people on all sides. She threw him a pointed glare before shifting her attentions to the clock on the wall, then the signboard, then her (well, their mother’s) shoes in movements so rapid Severus was wondering how it didn’t hurt her neck. It was a long minute before she started muttering a string of curse words that he was sure would have earned her a mouthful of soap if Mum had heard her.
“Bloody hell, I’m not even wearing socks.” Petunia whined as she tugged at the ends of her hair. “And…what am I wearing…fuck fuck fuck. I look properly mad.”
“Just stay here then…do a bit of shopping,” Severus offered, hoping his sister would take the bait. Petunia was as vain as the day was long, and he was sure the prospect of her getting a new wardrobe in case she met any of her many exes on the street was more enticing than tagging along with him to their old hometown while wearing mismatched clothing. “I’ll keep mum about the bills to Mum and Dad. And there’s…ah…a makeup store down the street, I think. I won’t be gone long—"
He made to already turn and walk away but was held fast by a tight grip on his collar. He yelped and when he looked up and there was only familiar determination in Petunia’s eyes, one he would normally associate with tyrannical despots or Andromeda Tonks whenever she requested audience with Headmaster Dumbledore for his ever-changing homeschooling curriculum.
“Right, you little miscreant. Listen here and listen well.” Petunia held him in place with an iron grip to his shoulder, bending a little so she could hiss straight at his face. All previous traces of amicability had been wiped away from her features. “Since you obviously won’t be dissuaded from your insane plan, I have no other choice but to fall in line with it. But let it not be said that I agreed with this! No, not at all! Because the second, and I swear, the second anything goes wrong, Severus Evans, I am taking you back home, kicking, crying and/or screaming, and Mum and Dad are going to hear all of it, you understand?”
“Hang on, you mean you’re coming?” It was Severus’ turn to sputter in shock. He had not, in the thousands of possibilities considered in his plan, anticipated either of his sisters coming with him. Lily had of course been removed from the equation at the onset, but Petunia, of all people?! No amount of Divination could have predicted this sorry lot. Forget the exploding train, there was going to be blood on their seats before they could even leave Kings Cross.
“But…your exam!” He finished lamely, his brain unable to think of any other valid excuse that could keep his sister in London.
“Sod the exam. I’m not going to fail that class. But Mum and Dad will have my head if I let you go off alone and something happens to you.” Petunia had a dangerous gleam in her eye. “You will owe me for a thousand years for this, whether or not we get out of this unscathed. Now come on. Let’s get this over and done with. I need to buy a ticket.”
Dumbfounded, Severus followed his sister as she stalked towards the ticketing booth, wild hair, dirty wellies, and all.
Merlin’s pants, what had he gotten himself into?
--
The train that would be taking them back to the Midlands (back home, a voice in his head said experimentally, but his stomach clenched painfully at the words) was nothing like the Hogwarts train. The Midland Mainline train was long and boxy, painted a dull green all throughout and covered liberally in a speckled coating of soot. Severus caught Petunia’s sneer when she first laid eyes on it, and she had automatically held out a hand as though to keep him back. Severus rolled his eyes before grasping her wrist and pulling her forward, ignoring the squeak that left his sister’s mouth as soon as they crossed from the platform to enter the compartment. He led them both to their seats, Mercutio at a leisurely pace beside them. It wasn’t a peak hour, thank Merlin, so locating their spot was simple enough, and he and Petunia both settled in rather quickly.
“How long was it again?” Petunia had chosen the seat adjacent from his, so he had full view of her sour expression.
“Two hours.”
A groan then a loud thump as she leaned hard against the window. “Bloody hell.”
“Shouldn’t you remember?” Severus barely remembered his life in Cokeworth but had counted that more as a boon than anything. He realized that although he had asked his parents more than once about their previous lives there, he had never thought to ask his sister. Trying to remember himself was a bit like wading through scenes being played on moth-eaten video tapes. “You were old enough when we moved, weren’t you?”
Petunia threw him a withering look. “We had a car, Severus, if you don’t remember being squished to within an inch of our lives at the back. We never took the—what the hell are you doing?”
Severus looked up from the small mountain of items that he had dumped from his rucksack onto the foldaway vinyl table that sat between them.
“Precautions,” he said, waving his sunglasses at her before putting them on. Even from behind the dark lenses, he saw as Petunia considerably paled at his response.
“You said you had taken your…your medicine.” Petunia’s wariness about magic extended to even their terms, and referring to his medication as potions was not something she could do even on a good day. At the moment, she looked as though she completely regretted being in an enclosed space with him; she looked fit to bolt. “Do you feel a fit coming on now? And don’t even think about lying!”
“Oh, will you relax,” Severus chided her as he untangled his headphones before putting them on his head. “I told you; I took my medicine already. This is just to…not tempt fate so to speak.” Pet Shop Boys on low was somehow effective at keeping fits at bay, and he had bought several CD sleeves with him in case.
“Severus…see here.” Petunia rapped at the tabletop, causing him to raise an eyebrow at her. “Swear to me.”
“What?”
“Swear to me that the second you start to feel something off, you’re telling me and we’re getting off this train. I don’t know how exactly, but we’re getting off.”
Severus rolled his eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time. “Toons, we’ve barely made it out of London…”
“I don’t care. Swear it, Severus!”
“Fine, yes, I promise to tell you,” Severus grumbled.
“Also I’m calling the shots. When I tell you we’re going, we’re going. There will be no ifs and buts, I am responsible for you during this trip and so help me, if you fight me, you are going to sorely regret it.”
Her directives made him clench his teeth, but there really was little he could do. Petunia’s presence already granted her default authority, and though Severus was loathe to do so, he knew agreeing to the path of least resistance was the most efficient way of getting through the trip with his sanity intact at the end. He could plot his revenge later.
“Fine,” he fought the urge to stick out his tongue, “but I don’t have to like it.”
“Good.” Petunia sat back in her seat, looking just a smidge bit relieved. “All we have to do is ride this out and hope your brain is calm enough the entire time.”
“I’ve told you though, the potions—” Severus stopped when Petunia hissed loudly, and begrudgingly corrected himself, “I mean, the medicine…it’s working this time around, believe it or not.”
“Working in what sense?” Petunia’s lips pursed. “It never does, or else Mum and Dad would have been crying in relief.”
“This batch works well enough. No fits so far while I’ve been on it, and it’s already been a fortnight.”
Petunia frowned skeptically. “But…? There’s always a ‘but’.”
Severus sighed. They had been battling his condition collectively for so long that none of them ever accepted any easy answers; doubt and anxiety always shadowed any sort of hope.
“There are some side effects. I didn’t really lie about being ill. The medicine makes me ill, but it’s just…fevers and headaches. Usually late in the afternoon then it lasts until early morning the next day.”
Petunia groaned. “You sod. And this is part of your plan too, I suppose? You’d taken into account that you’d be gallivanting off in the morning to the Midlands and coming back into London later in the day with a raging fever, is that it?”
“It’s hardly raging; it’s more annoying than anything.”He had debated not telling Petunia about the symptoms but had already learned from experience that it wasn’t wise. Besides, she already had the medi-bracelet from St. Mungo’s; she would know at any rate. “And a fever is child’s play. I’d take that over having a fit any day.”
“It’s hardly healthy to be getting those every day, Severus.”
Severus shrugged as he sucked on a Fruit Polo. The train was wobbling a bit even at the speed it was going, and it was already giving him a bit of a headache. “Well, if you’ve noticed, I’m not exactly the poster boy of health anyway.” He would have scrapped the entire plan if the new potions mix had had a worse effect, but since it hadn’t, the point was moot. He just had to do his utmost best to not be triggered into a fit which was, quite honestly, easier said than done, but Dad always quoted about boats being in harbors and their not being made for that, so Severus figured this was something along those lines. “I can take it. I know my limits.”
“Oh, please.” Petunia scoffed, but said nothing more on the matter. She glared stormily out the window as the train sped past Greater London, as if the view was a personal affront. “This is insanity,” he heard her mutter to herself.
Her eyes flitted across the aisle to the other seats of the train, and Severus knew she was imagining the worst-case scenario and figuring out an exit strategy (or several). Petunia had always been a bundle of nerves and paranoia, and it had only seemed to grow worse as they got older. He watched as her fingers knotted and unknotted themselves on the table before they were clasped against the sides of her head.
“Ugh, I can’t believe we’re doing this. Mum and Dad are going to kill me.” She groaned into the tabletop, and Severus wrinkled his nose in disgust. “I am going to kill you.”
Severus scoffed. “I’m sure if you wait long enough, the epilepsy will do it for you. That way, you don’t have to get your hands dirty—what?” He was startled as Petunia gasped, lifting her head so suddenly that it nearly sent her toppling backwards into her seat. “What?”
“That isn’t funny! Severus, you mustn’t say things like that!” She had paled so much her freckles stood out in contrast. “Take that back!”
“Oh, so you can threaten me but I can’t say the truth? It is funny. Dad calls it gallows humour.” He left out the bit where Dad didn’t like him making jokes about his illness either, but he didn’t often tell Severus off for it. “You just said it yourself: it’s hardly healthy to be ill this much. And at some point you’re going to have to accept—”
“Oh, just shut it,” Petunia snapped, and this time, there was real heat in her words. “Shut up right now. We’re not discussing this, not now, not ever.”
“What? You were the one who started—”
“Shut it, Severus!”
Severus bristled at being scolded and dismissed. It had been a while since he’d been alone with Petunia in such close quarters, and he’d forgotten how maddening it could be. While both his sisters had the habit of yo-yoing through emotional extremes, Petunia’s mood swings carried with her the weight of her authority as oldest and made it near impossible to defy her lest she follow through on any hidden or implied threats. Plus she could be downright nasty without trying.
“I didn’t ask you to come along,” Severus said. He felt so cross with his sister at that moment that felt compelled to goad her into an argument, consequences be damned. “You decided that all on your own, so don’t take it out on me. I didn’t want you here.”
“Well that makes two of us,” Petunia glared at him. “This isn’t exactly how I pictured my free day would be.”
“You can leave anytime, you know. The next station is in twenty minutes.”
“And that’s how we solve this, you reckon? I don’t have a choice, Severus!”
“Yes, you do because I don’t want you here! Look, I’ll pay you to go back.”
“Are you being serious right now? You realise I can put a stop to this merry jaunt of ours in a snap if you push me to it?”
“Do it then,” Severus was tired of her holding her authority over him. This trip shouldn’t have been that difficult but with Petunia there it was starting to feel like pulling teeth. “Do it already. You keep threatening to so just do it. I don’t care. I don’t.”
Somehow, he was close to tears although he couldn’t understand why. His head felt hot and heavy and his eyes stung. Petunia looked at him incredulously.
“The only reason I’m here,” she said slowly, “is I know…I can see how much this means to you. I wouldn’t have agreed otherwise. But even without your condition, you’re still only thirteen. I don’t care how grown-up or invincible you think you are. You aren’t going across the country alone with only your service dog for company.”
Severus’ face burned. “You think I’m too weak.”
“I think you’re a child.” Petunia said exasperatedly. “A rather reckless and stupid one, I might add.”
“You realize you being here with me makes you rather reckless and stupid too? You’re in as much danger being here with me than if you’d just stayed behind.”
“Yes, but that’s a risk I’m willing to take! That’s my business, not yours. Besides, there’s no way I could have made any other decision.”
“Why? You clearly have more important things to do and I’m always bothering you and everyone else. I would’ve thought you’d have liked a day off to yourself without being shackled into taking care of someone else—”
“You’re not ‘someone else’, you’re my brother, you idiot, and I’m not leaving you alone!”
The statement halted their argument in its tracks. Severus had already been close to being properly angry but found that he couldn’t think of a rebuttal to Petunia’s claim. He shut his mouth with a snap of his teeth and glared at his sister instead. Their small corner was quickly plunged into a filled silence and for a moment, they stared at each other, unyielding, but then Petunia’s gaze softened, and she sighed.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called you an idiot. But you are a child, literally, and that’s not something you can use as a defensive argument. You are also being an utter pain in the arse right now but that’s also because you’re my little brother and that’s part of your job description. Now, look…I really don’t want to argue on a train of all places. Let’s just agree that this entire situation is mad and be done with it. We’ve already paid for the bloody tickets so we should at least see it through.”
Severus glowered, not wanting her to get the last word in. “You’re being a right tit too and I hadn’t even wanted you here.”
Petunia nodded sagely. “Touche.”
She held out her hand for a Fruit Polo and Severus grudgingly gave her one. It was as good a peace offering as any. They sat and sucked on their sweets in silence for a long while, listening to the clacking and rumbling of the train on the tracks and each other’s slowing breathing. It was just calm enough to lull him into a stupor, which felt rather nice, given that his headache had persisted throughout their fight and had steadily grown to a dull throb.
“Why are you doing this anyway?” Petunia’s voice floated over to him in the haze. “Why go back to Cokeworth at all? Didn’t we already do well leaving all that behind?”
Severus opened his eyes, not even realizing he had closed them. He frowned at being caught off-guard. “I’m not playing Twenty Questions.”
“It’s a simple enough question seeing as we’ve already had a hundred arguments and I’ve already lost at least a hundred quid to this madness.” Petunia’s words were harsh, but her tone was mild. She wasn’t picking a fight; she was genuinely curious. “We’ve not even been back in Cokeworth since we left and now, all of a sudden, you skip your beloved lessons and lie to our parents in a fit of inspiration? The least you can do is tell me why.”
Severus bit his lip, unsure of his desire to share any more than he had to. His chest felt tight around the memory of the day he saw Tobias, larger than life but washed out and faded, standing on the street where they lived. It was his closest-guarded secret and one he hadn’t even breathed a mention of to anyone, not even to Lily. The conversation he’d had with him hadn’t even lasted five minutes, but Severus recounted it almost obsessively, picking through his father’s words and expressions, the small movements of his hands and the slump of his shoulders. He’d known then that he had to go back to Cokeworth, but the exact reasons were lost even to him.
“Ghosts,” he said simply, and Petunia frowned.
“Ghosts,” she repeated. She studied his face, worry pinching her features. “Severus…” and now her voice was gentle, “…did something happen?”
“No.” Severus said, the lie rolling easily from his tongue.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.” Severus breathed. “I just need to see it again, I think.”
Petunia’s face took on a strange expression. “Listen, I know we hardly talk about it but you have to know that it may not be what you expect or remember. I just want you to realise that. You were very young…and things…things were very very different.”
“I know,” Severus had already considered the possibility that what his glitchy memories could recall was far from reality, and the few photos they had at home didn’t really do it justice, “but it’s still worth seeing for myself.”
Petunia looked unconvinced, in fact she looked ready to put a stop to the trip once and for all, but she didn’t. She crossed her arms again unhappily but leaned further back in her seat as though in resignation.
“We’ll stay an hour and a half at the most. And we’re getting lunch first. You’ve gone all pale so I don’t care what you say, you’re drinking your second set of medicines where I can see you. Any arguments and I’m taking all of us back. I don’t care if we would have to get a cab all the way back to London. Clear?”
Severus gave her a grateful nod, glad to obey her orders for once. Bossy as she was, having Petunia there meant that he wasn’t required to think of the menial things, which was nice. He also realised that as badly as he had wanted to go back to Cokeworth, he also didn’t want to dwell too much on the matter. The memory of town itself felt like an old wound that still ached when touched or jostled, and he didn’t really want to figure out why that was until he had to, until he was there. If he had been alone, he wouldn’t have been able to help himself from picking at it his thoughts until they rattled about his head, unanswered. It would have eventually driven him mad. Arguing with Petunia and generally having her there had quieted them down somewhat, and for that he was relieved.
“Right, I’m just going to ignore you for the next hour then. I’m knackered and I don’t want another fight. Count sheep in the meadow and don’t bother me unless it’s an emergency.”
Not that he would have ever told her though.
“Crystal,” Severus said, before rolling over in his seat and shutting his eyes, soothed by the rhythmic clacking that surrounded them and warm in the knowledge that he wasn’t alone.
tbc
the story about tobias' unexpected visit to severus is here.
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how to get over someone who was perfect except that he lived in another country & couldn't handle long-distance texting (yeah I know I already did a post about it when it happened hut I'm still not over it 🥲). like I legit don't think I'll ever meet someone like him again. he was the first guy in 8 years I vibed so amazingly w + he was hot as hell. fck I'll die alone
and that idiot didn't even live that far away. legit takes 1.5h by plane to get there ugh
it always has to be a fcking Italian. 8 years ago a guy from sicily, now a guy from torino. I hate the universe. why connecting me w guys who either turn out to be shtty or I can't have?
anyway, back to remind myself my boys bts would've never dropped me like this & if they can keep in touch w fans during busy schedules, tours & military, so could a dude who supposedly likes me 🥲
at least I meant enough for him to take time to explain & apologize instead of just ghosting me
anyway sorry I just needed to vent for a sec 🥲
forgot to mention that he was an alex turner fanboy and loved tae's solo album when i showed him :') and we'd listen to 90-00s metal we grew up w due to both our mums.. fck my luck really
and the fact I finished begins ≠ youth by binge watching 8 episodes right after he dropped me surely didn't help w my melancholy either 🧍🏼♀️I mean, I knew what would happen, I read the books and webtoon but it still fcked me up. my poor boyssss 😭 so yeah, everything sucks rn
#personal rant#my love life#my love life is a mess#crush#Italian guys will be the death of me it seems#I hate the universe rn#why showing me the most perfect guy only for him being unable to use his phone and keep texting me#wasn't tae and yoongi enough??#at least they're celebrities so I always knew I can't have them#why introducing me to a normal guy who I could theoretically have IF HE WASN'T UNABLE TO COMMUNICATE W SOMEONE ONLINE FOR MORE THAN A MONTH#yeah it was only a month but I have felt more for him and there was bigger chemistry than w guys I talked to for longer#not that there have been that many guys#tbh most guys I only talk to for 1-2 weeks#but the vibes weren't that high either#meanwhile w him it felt amazing right off the very start#DID I MENTION THAT HE LOOKED HOT AND CUTE AND WAS EXACTLY MY IDEAL TYPE?#Ugh why universe why I hate it here#I should just become a cat lady at this point#like I would've been open to calls or videochats too! not just texts and audios! but no#his issue was the medium and distance#legit nothing I could have done smth about#and his fcking unflexibel Leo venus and mars ofc wouldn't bend for me#like first his issue was stress and being busy#but at the end it was the phone and distance#house of cards has been on loop for 2 days..
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Happy new years… let’s stay hydrated together ✨
#I didn’t end up going to the rave just stayed in with my buddies and had KFC (( Korean fried chicken )) and laughed til we cried so#it was still a wonderful start to the new year 💞🥰💞#but the fwb wanted pics of my potential rave look so I figured eh I brought the stuff anyways#and now I’m imagining locking eyes with a stranger on the warm and writhing dance floor#the beat thumps and shakes and rattles the air in our breath as the spotlights dance in the reflections of our held gaze#he pushes his way through the crowd with a singular stare and a wicked smile on his face#I smile and turn my back on him arching myself so he knows I am giving what he’s looking for#I take careful steps through the revelry toward the edge where the crowd thins out#I prop myself up on an available stool in a lonely corner of the club as he closes the distance between us#“now I wonder why you dragged me all the way here” he utters in a playful growl “trying to get far away from the crowd?”#I smile and I nod. “obviously. can’t really do what I want with you out there”#his eyes perk up and his smile gives away the desire building inside him. “yeah? why don’t you show me then.”#“I thought you’d never ask” I smirk. I reach down into my pants and pull out my phone#“so this one is blue. he’s the oldest but he’s sooooo sweet. and that’s Eva. my only girl she’s sassy but she loves swea-” he leaves#whaddahell I say demurely whimpering even… whaddahell…#gpoy
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never being anyone’s best friend or the most important person in anyone’s life, ever, can really fuck you up emotionally
#like throughout my life i’ve had people that i’d call my best friends#but I guess I was never theirs#like they always had more important friends that would always take precedence#and then now as an adult people’s partners always take precedence#which is fair and valid#I just can’t never find that for myself and always end up as an afterthought and it really really fucks you up#hence me sobbing rn#bc a friend and I were supposed to call tonight and had scheduled it a few days ago#aaaand they just told me they can’t because they’re still on a call with their partner who’ve they’ve called basically everyday this week#oh and this friend won’t be able to call anyone all summer so I just can’t talk to them on the phone again until fall#and yeah i’m sobbing rn#rants and rambles#friends#long distance friendship#lonliness#friendship#no friends#friend jealousy#never had a best friend#friendless#how to keep friends#i dont know how to make friends#friend yearning
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